King’s Troop Inspection and Musical Drive at Regent’s Park

The King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery is declared “fit to represent the nation” following its annual inspection today in Regent’s Park by Colonel Hugh Bodington, Chief of Staff of Head Quarters London District. The horses and artillerymen put on a spectacular display for the Colonel on Gloucester Green, as the Band of the Royal Artillery attempted to drown out the roar of Lions from London Zoo.

Members of the public passing through Regent’s Park witnessed a world-class display involving more than 70 magnificently turned–out horses. The Musical Drive is one of the most spectacular displays of horsemanship in the world involving complex choreographed moves with split-second timing.

Teams of six colour-matched horses drew each of six Field Guns and limbers, with the gun detachment riding behind each gun. The guns in the Troop display are 13 pounders, all of which saw service in the First World War. Each gun and limber weighs one and a half tonnes, has no brakes, and combined with the team of six horses is approximately 54-feet long. 

Following the inspection, the streets of central London were treated to the colourful display of The King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery riding through traffic past some of the capital’s most iconic sights. Their six World War era Field Guns rattled over the tarmac as the unit rode in full ceremonial order back to Wellington Barracks in Westminster. 

The King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery is based in Woolwich and is responsible for firing Royal and ceremonial salutes.

Learn more about ceremonial events in


Images by Sergeant Steve Blake and Bombardier Murray Kerr; Crown copyright


Her Majesty The Queen carries out a longstanding engagement to visit Woolwich Barracks the new home to the King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery unit.  The Queen appeared to delight in the company of the Regiment but also met privately with those from the barracks involved in the aftermath of the murder of Drummer Lee Rigby who was based there.

© Copyright 2013 Mark Stewart Photography Ltd. All rights reserved.


So to keep my mother happy I’m going to go to university.

After that I’m going to join the King’s Troop for which I don’t even need GCSEs - just a “determined and ambitious attitude”. Where I will be encouraged to compete nationally with my horse and have a right good time.



Extolled above women be Jael,
The wife of Heber the Kenite,
Extolled above women in the tent.
He asked for water, she gave him milk;
She brought him cream in a lordly dish.
She stretched forth her hand to the nail,
Her right hand to the workman’s hammer,
And she smote Sisera; she crushed his head,
She crashed through and transfixed his temples.
At her feet he curled himself, he fell, he lay still;
At her feet he curled himself, he fell;
And where he curled himself, let it be, there he fell dead.


Yael or Jael (Hebrew Ya'el, יָעֵל, the name of the Nubian Ibex) is a woman mentioned in the Book of Judges in the Bible, as the heroine who killed Sisera to deliver Israel from the troops of king Jabin. She was the wife of Heber the Kenite.

    There had been a time when the gift of magic in the kingdom had been celebrated. Perhaps too long ago, and under the rule of a man who was infamous for his use of it, but not all agreed with his deposition and the rise of King Mickey.

    Not all of them had seen the destruction of the border as King Mickey’s troops marched through it.

    Unfortunately there were even fewer left who had the gift of a magical touch. The ability to mix potions into concoctions that could do both great, and terrible things. There was no denying that more than one war had been started on behalf of a potion with misintentions. Public sentiment wasn’t exactly quiet in its attention to magic and the craft–not after Xehanort had been dethroned and the country ‘liberated’ from his dictatorship.

    Never, however, had Aerith expected to be found out in her small healing practice under the guise of an herbal shop. The reaction had been…poor at best, and with the underground Resistance in the pro-wings of Xehanort out of town…their healer was to be put to the stake.

    Blindfolded, with her hands tied to a hard post at her back, she already felt the bristle of thorned branches and kindle building up to her thighs. The thick scent of animal fat being spread over the wood to catch it and burn faster. The angry murmuring buzz of the crowd, reminiscent of a hive of active hornets. The waft of smoke from the torches that would be set to her. She could see none of these things with the cloth tied over her eyes, but she could hear, taste, smell…everything leading up to her death. The cries began, but not from her own lips.

          “–Burn the witch!”