Great British tradition arrives right on queue amid scramble to see easel

After almost 12 hours of hysteria at the gates of Buckingham Palace, the clamouring gave way to queueing as those eager to see the Rococo easel and its statement confirming the newborn prince’s birth reverted to what came naturally.

By 8am, and after several refreshing downpours, police had called time on the scrum-style tactics which saw every man, woman and child wage their own path to the prize – a framed piece of paper, containing barely a few words announcing the royal arrival.

And so people began to queue. At first in two lines, but later in a long, single-file thread which weaved across the front of the Palace and down the wing along Constitution Hill.

“What are we queuing for?” asked one boy, showing a stoical disinterest in the pageantry, despite his mother’s best efforts to coax him into line with a large bag of Kettle Chips.

“Why are we here? I can’t queue to save my life,” he added. Then he went off, apparently to survey the source of the queue. He did not return. A few moments later, his frustrated guardian joined him.

But not everyone was letting the heat get to them.

Many were happy to be part of this rarest of occasions, despite the fact that most in the queue will probably not live long enough to see the prince on the throne.

That did not matter to film director Ira Trattner. “There’s nothing like a good, old British queue, is there?” the American said. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

And then, as the easel approached into view, security staff reminded visitors they were only allowed to take one or two photos before moving away.