Royals behaving badly
How would you behave if you were at the Royal wedding? I concede that at this stage the contingency is remote, but humour me anyway. It’s a grand sight, the sort of pageant that Britain does best. The royal family, bishops, assembled dignitaries, guardsmen lining the route: all that’s missing is a Spitfire, Vera Lynn and some fleeing Bosche. But Huw Edwards and some bearskins does not a state occasion make. The wedding will look splendid and solemn, but, once the religious ceremony ends, it’s like any other familial knees-up. So was it ever thus. The Gentleman’s Magazine, a staple of polite Georgian England, considered this question of deportment in