Thursday, 28 May 2026
Royal Automobile Club of Australia, Sydney
Her Excellency the Honourable Margaret Beazley AC KC

Bujari Gamarruwa

Diyn Babana, Gamarada Gadigal Ngura

In greeting you in the language of the Gadigal, Traditional Owners of these lands and waterways, I pay my respects to their Elders past, present, and emerging

Thank you, Mossie^[1]

Honourable Justice of the Supreme Court;^[2] Members of Parliament;^[3] Deputy Consul-General;^[4] members of the Australia-Britain Society, Australians for Constitutional Monarchy, Friends of St George’s and Descendants of the Knights of the Garter, the English Speaking Union, the Cook Society, and the Royal Overseas League; Royal College of Music Supporters and Alumni; friends, distinguished guests all,

On the 4th of June 1788, King George III turned 50.  George Bouvier Worgan, the ship’s surgeon on the HMS Sirius, which together with HMS Supply had remained ‘in service’ for the Colony in Port Jackson recorded the occasion in his journal as follows:

This being the Anniversary of His Majesty’s Birth Day, Governor Phillip had prepared, for the Celebration of it, with every Mark of Loyalty and Distinction, he could think of. At Sun-rise the British Flags were displayed on Board the Ships, and on the Shore. The Sirius, and Supply fired 21 Guns each; This Ceremony they repeated at 1 o’Clock, and at Sun-set. At 12 o’Clock the Battalion was drawn up before the Governor's House, where, they fired three Vollies of Musketry, the First part of God Save the King being played by the Band between each Volley, after this Ceremony, the Officers of the Battalion, together with the Naval & Civil Departments, proceeded to the Governor’s House, to pay our Respects to the Governor, who received Us with great Politeness, and congratulated Us, on being the first of His Majesty’s Subjects, who celebrated this Day in New South Wales.^[5]

In addition to these formal ceremonial components, there was also a luncheon at 2 o’clock, hosted by the Governor in his prefabricated house, a multi-roomed wooden-framed oil-cloth structure^[6] that had been brought on shore and erected shortly after the First Fleet’s arrival in Sydney Cove.^[7]

Being something of a foodie, Worgan went to some length to describe the victuals, which included:

Mutton, Pork Ducks, Fowls, Fish, Kanguroo, Sallads, Pies & preserved Fruits, The Potables consisted of Port, Lisbon, Madeira, Teneriffe and good old English Porter, these went merrily round in Bumpers.^[8]

After numerous Loyal Toasts, and as evening came around, the guests went outside and gathered around the bonfires, which had been built by the convicts over two days. God Save the King was sung, and a rousing 3 cheers were given for the Governor. “In a word” wrote Worgan, “every Heart beat with Loyalty & Joy.”^[9] This was understandable… not only had work been suspended for the day, but also, as Worgan tells us:

Each Convict was allowed a Pint of Grog, […] Every Private Soldier […] a Pint of Porter, and every Seaman […] an additional allowance of Grog, [so all could toast the King’s health] and all this, at the Governors own Expence.^[10]

In the spirit of tonight’s occasion, which raises funds to support the Royal College of Music’s new Australian Commonwealth Scholarship Fund, I feel it incumbent to mention also that Surgeon George Worgan did not just tend to the bodily ailments of this motley group of individuals from the First Fleet, he also tended their souls – lifting their spirits as only an accomplished musician can, as Worgan was. Indeed, he is responsible for bringing the first piano to Australia, a portable mahogany ‘square’ piano with collapsable legs made by Frederick Beck.^[11]

The piano was soon moved into John Macarthur’s house once it was built, a fortunate circumstance as the Sirius, with Worgan on board, later sank off Norfolk Island in 1790. Apparently, Macarthur had obtained custody of the piano so that Worgan could teach Macarthur’s wife, Elizabeth, to play. As such, Worgan not only brought the first piano to Australia, but also gave the first ever piano lessons here.^[12]

But back to the celebration of Kings’ Birthdays.

In 1789, the Colony’s ordinances were fired for the first time^[13] – the 6-pounders unloaded from the Sirius and placed at the East Battery, where the Opera House now stands.^[14]

Again, there was a luncheon hosted by the Governor, but this time, in his new house which had only recently been completed and, although initially planned as a temporary residence, would function as the Sydney residence of the Governors for the next 56 years.

In 1803, another, and significant, addition was made to the King’s Birthday’s ceremonies, adding to the military reviews, Royal Salutes, Governors’ Luncheons, fireworks, and lavish evening Balls which had become standard fare. On that occasion, the Royal Standard was hoisted by Governor King at Dawes Point at 9 in the morning, therefore being “displayed for the first time in this Territory”^[15].

Now, at least according to today’s vexillological protocols, the raising of the Royal Standard – technically the Banner of Arms of the Monarch – is usually reserved for occasions in which the Sovereign is present. Its raising in 1803 at Dawes Point was the first of what was possibly a unique Australian tradition: raising or breaking the Royal Standard or Personal Flag of the Sovereign to signify the symbolic – rather than physical – presence of the Monarch. It is precisely this tradition that will be continued in nine days’ time during the King’s Birthday Parade at Government House, when King Charles’s Personal Flag for Australia will be unfurled.

But… back to the Royal Standard raised at that 1803 ceremony… it was, in the arms that it comprised, only a couple of years old. For, following the Acts of Union 1800, which merged the Kingdom of Great Britain and the Kingdom of Ireland to create the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, a Harp had been added.^[16]

Similarly, a change had also been made to the Union Jack, with the addition of a red saltire, counterchanged and fimbriated, to represent Ireland, which gives the Union Jack its current asymmetrical form.^[17]

In 1807, yet another element was added to the King’s Birthday celebrations in Sydney… the ringing of church bells throughout the day.^[18]

The story of the bells rung on that day, the oldest in Australia, is interesting.

Apparently, in the 1790s, King George III heard that a church was being built in the new Colony, the wattle and daub Old St Phillip’s, completed in 1792 near what is now the corner of Hunter and Castlereigh Streets.^[19] The King ordered that a peal of 8 bells be cast for it. The Duke of Clarence (the future King William IV) presented the bells, which were small enough to transport, to Captain John Hunter just before his departure from England in 1795 to take up his appointment as the second Governor of the Colony.^[20]

For reasons unknown, the bells were not hung when they arrived in Sydney, and, in any case, a couple of years later, the original St Phillip’s was burnt down by convicts.^[21]

A new St Phillip’s was planned and a foundation stone laid in 1801 on what became known as Church Hill, and is now the beginning of York Street, but the building – once described as “the ugliest church in Christendom”^[22] – would not be consecrated until 1810.^[23] However, its distinctive 150’-tall circular clock tower was finished enough by 1807 for Governor Bligh, who had apparently “found” the bells in the intervening time,^[24] to order they be hung and tested on the 29th of May, 6 days before the King’s Birthday.^[25] But here there was another setback.

For those familiar with bell ringing as a particular religious musical genre, the pealing of bells should be able to be heard up to 1.5 to 5 kilometres away. However, as a writer in the Sydney Gazette, complained “… the bells [of St Phillip’s were] so small that they cannot be heard distinctly beyond the distance of 300 yards.”^[26]

Despite this inadequacy, the colony took to these Royal traditions with gusto, including the raising of the Royal Standard and pealing bells for numerous celebrations on the birthdays of Royal spouses and heirs.

The Royal Standard also played a part in the official ceremonies here for the accessions of King George IV in 1820, King William IV in 1830, and Queen Victoria in 1837. To mark the passing of the immediately preceding monarch, the Royal Standard was flown – either at the front of First Government House, at Fort Phillip, or Dawes Point – at half-mast for at least the morning of the day of the reading of the Proclamation of Accession, after which the Royal Standard was then raised to full mast, mirroring, to some degree, similar ceremonies in London.^[27]

Today, of course, this would never occur… since 1952 and the death of King George VI, the stipulation from the College of Arms has been, because the Crown is never extinct, the Royal Standard is never half-masted.^[28]

In 1838, the year after Queen Victoria’s accession, the Royal Standard was also raised at “Fort Macquarie and Dawes’ Point” on the 26th of January as part of the “The Jubilee” celebrations marking the 50th anniversary of Phillip’s raising of the Union Jack for the first time at Port Jackson in 1788.^[29]

For Queen Victoria’s Birthday in 1841, the Royal Standard was flown for the first time at the new – and now current – Government House, construction of which had begun in 1837.^[30] In 1843, enough of the new Government House had been built to host its first ever function – Queen Victoria’s Birthday Ball;^[31] but it would be another two years before it was ready for the ninth Governor of NSW, Sir George Gipps, to actually move in.

Finally, on the 31st of October 1867, the Royal Standard was flown in the presence of Royalty for the first time in Australia, when Prince Alfred, the Duke of Edinburgh and second son of Queen Victoria, stepped ashore in Adelaide.^[32]

Representing his mother and being commander of the HMS Galatea, a steam-powered sail-equipped frigate, the Royal Standard, fluttered not only at the prow of his ship, but also conspicuously (sometimes as large as 20’ square) at the many places in Australia he visited.

To say Prince Alfred’s 5-month tour was eventful is an understatement. In Melbourne there were sectarian riots, shootings, and fires.^[33] Here in Sydney, of course, there was the attempt on the Prince’s life, when he was shot in the back at a fundraising picnic at Clontarf by Irishman Henry James O’Farrell, an ardent Irish Nationalist.^[34]

Thankfully, the Prince, perhaps due to the care provided him during his stay at Government House by a pair of Florence Nightingale trained nurses, recovered. Relieved or elated, or perhaps both, the first known public fund raising was held to help build the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital in Camperdown and the Alfred in Melbourne.^[35]

13 years later, in 1881, the Prince’s nephews, Prince Albert and Prince George, 2nd and 3rd in line to the throne and 17 and 15 years old respectively at the time, also came to Australia… Like their uncle, they came as sailors, as midshipmen aboard the HMS Bacchante, part of the Royal Navy’s Detached Squadron.

Like their uncle’s, their tour was also unexpectedly interrupted, when the Vice Admiral the Lord Clanwilliam, commander of their Squadron, collapsed the day before its intended departure from Sydney^[36]. It would be several weeks before Lord Clanwilliam was well enough to continue the tour, during which time the Princes stayed at Government House, contributing, it has been claimed, to the later financial difficulties of the Governor, Lord Loftus.^[37]

Twenty years later, in 1901, Prince George would return to Australia, but this time as the Duke of Cornwall and York and heir to the throne, following the death of his older brother Prince Albert and his grandmother Queen Victoria.

The reason for the Duke’s visit was to address and open Australia’s First Parliament on behalf of his father, King Edward VII. Hence, on the 9th of May 1901, the future King George V – great grandfather of King Charles III – presided over our nation’s first symbolic step as a parliamentary democracy. If you look at Tom Roberts’ famous painting of that scene, you will see, hanging above the Duke’s head, an enormous Royal Standard.^[38]

In the years since the first King’s Birthday celebration in Sydney 238 years ago… the various traditions by which we mark it, even the days upon which we do so, have changed. Just as we, a people and a nation have changed.

Some elements remain… some have been added or altered.

For instance, the flag that will be unfurled at the King’s Birthday Parade at Government House in nine days’ time to represent the Sovereign’s symbolic presence is King Charles’ Flag for Australia, approved by His Majesty in 2024 for use on his first visit to these shores as King.

This is as it should be… it is a commemoration of the past set firmly in the present, a celebration of the sovereign and the changing relation to our systems of governance that we honour.

Much can be said about the past… much about what we might learn from it in going forward.

What can never be forgotten is the contribution the institutions we have inherited from Britain make to the enviable constancy and stability of our modern democratic nation, which, to borrow the words of the Sirius’s surgeon George Worgan, fills our hearts with “loyalty and joy”.