More Memories of the Queen

 https://bookswelove.net/martin-paula/ 

More Memories of the Queen

Last month I told you about my early memories of Queen Elizabeth II shortly after her accession to the throne in 1952. Here are a few more memories:

Two years after the Coronation, the Queen visited my home town as part of her tour of Lancashire. By then, I was a Girl Guide, and we formed a ‘guard of honour’ along one of the roads her car travelled into the centre of town. Being at the front of the crowds lining the route, we had a quite a good view of her – I remember she was wearing a purple coat. Once the car had passed us, my friend and I decided to run as fast as we could the half mile or so to the centre of the town in order to see her again on the steps of the Town Hall – and caught another (distant) glimpse of her from the back of the crowd there.

It was forty years later before I saw her again. By this time I was a Girl Guide Commissioner, and returned home from a Guiding event one Saturday to find a letter awaiting me from the office of the Lord Lieutenant of Manchester with an invitation to a Buckingham Palace Garden Party. About ten minutes later, I had a phone call from our Region Commissioner, telling me that she would be sending me an invitation to one of the Garden Parties. So you wait all your life for an invitation to Buckingham Palace – and then you get two in one day!

Anyway, on a sunny July day, one of my Guiding friends and I joined the queue outside the Palace, showed our tickets, and then we were free to wander around the Palace gardens – along with about 8,000 other people! We found it fascinating to see all the uniforms, traditional dress, and of course the hats of many of the other guests. The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh appeared about 4pm, and walked along a cordoned off area surrounded by crowds. We decided instead to stand next to the rope cordon near the Royal tea tent, so not only did we get a close-up view of the Queen, but also several other members of the Royal Family as they walked across the lawn to the tent. They included Princess Anne, and also Prince Michael of Kent who, with his full beard, was the spitting image of his grandfather King George V.

At the end of the afternoon, we exited through the Palace – through a hallway with wide, red-carpeted staircases at each side, then across the gravelled inner courtyard, and out under the arch into the forecourt of the Palace where there were several photographers offering to take our photos. Of course we said, ‘Yes, please!’

The next event was again thanks to the Lord Lieutenant, who sent me two tickets for the Millennium Service at St Paul’s Cathedral on 2nd January 2000. Outside St. Paul’s, we saw that people were clutching yellow, green, and pink tickets. As our tickets were white, I joked to my friend that they probably meant we would be seated behind one of the white marble pillars, unable to see anything! Imagine our wide-eyed surprise, therefore, when an usher looked at our tickets and said, ‘Ah, white tickets. Go right down to the front, under the dome’. Which was how we ended up on the sixth row from the front, next to the aisle. It was a case of ‘spot the famous faces’ as the Prime Minister (Tony Blair) and his wife, and several other government minsters took their seats on the first two rows. Then the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh came down the aisle, escorted by the Archbishop of Canterbury. The service lasted about an hour, and as the Queen walked back up the aisle, she smiled at me! Maybe she recognised my Guiding uniform – or maybe she just smiles at everyone!

My last story is one of ‘just missed seeing the Queen.’ In 2002, we held an international camp at the Guide Activity Centre about 20 miles from Preston, and at the end of the event I had to take six Canadian Guides and their two leaders to Preston station in the minibus. As I approached the centre of the town, it was apparent from the crowds lining the pavements that something was happening. A policeman stopped me and said I couldn’t go any further because the Queen was due to arrive at Preston Station and all the roads were closed. When I explained that the Guides and their leaders had to catch a train in 30 minutes, he spoke to someone on his radio, and then told me which streets to use to reach the station. He added, ‘But you’ll have be quick. Drop them off at the top of the station approach and then carry on down Fishergate.’ The Guides delightedly waved to people as I drove along the crowded street to the station, and another policeman told me where to stop. After hasty goodbyes to the girls, I continued past the station, away from the crowds. Later, I learned that one of the station staff, recognising Girl Guide uniforms, very kindly took the girls onto the platform where the Queen’s train was due to arrive. The Queen actually stopped to speak to them, asking where they were from and why they were visiting England – a very memorable ending to their international camp. Meantime, I was frantically trying to find my way out of the town, avoiding all the streets which had been closed to traffic!

Find me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/paulamartinromances

Link to my Amazon author page:  author.to/PMamazon  

The Queen

 

 

https://bookswelove.net/martin-paula/ 

The Queen

 Earlier this month we in the UK (as well as many people throughout the world) were shocked to learn that Queen Elizabeth II had died. Yes, she was 96; yes, she had just celebrated her 70th year on the throne. Maybe we should have been ready for it, but somehow we weren’t.

Only two days earlier, she had been photographed asking our new Prime Minister to form a government. True, she looked frail, but we still didn’t expect her to die two days later.

For the majority of people, she was the only sovereign they had ever known. I am actually in the minority, as I do remember her father, King George VI. The Brownie ‘Promise’ I made when I was seven included the words “To serve The King and my country.” About a year later, the head teacher came into my school classroom to inform us that the King had died. I only remember seeing black and white newspaper photos of his funeral.

The following year, there was great excitement about the Queen’s Coronation. Streets were decorated, and street parties were held. My mother had a wool shop and I helped her make a display for the window, with the Union Flag in red, white and blue balls of wool surrounding a photograph of the young Queen.

On the actual day people crowded into the homes of those who actually owned a television, which were few and far between at that time. My parents arranged for me to visit a friend of theirs who did have a television set, and so I watched the Coronation on a black and white, nine-inch TV screen. As a nine-year-old, I confess to becoming somewhat bored by the lengthy ceremony, apart from the actual crowning when everyone shouted ‘God Save the Queen’. After that a few friends and I went out to play in the garden, but we were called back to watch the newly-crowned Queen return to Buckingham Palace in the ornate state coach.

Ten days after the Coronation, we had a school trip to London, at that time a five-hour journey by train. I’m not sure how our teachers coped with about thirty excited youngsters, but we went to Westminster Abbey and also saw all the decorations in the streets, especially the huge arches in the Mall.

We were outside Buckingham Palace, where a lot of people seemed to be congregating on the pavements. One of my teachers asked a policeman what was happening, and was told the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh were due to arrive back from a visit to Greenwich. The policeman then allowed us to climb into one of the VIP stands which had been erected outside the Palace for the Coronation. As a result, we had a wonderful view of the Queen when the open carriage came round the Victoria Memorial and entered the Palace forecourt.

That was my first sight of Queen. Since then, I’ve seen her three more times, and on one occasion I met and spoke to Prince (now King) Charles, but I’ll tell you more next time!

Find me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/paulamartinromances

Link to my Amazon author page:  author.to/PMamazon  

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace (A A Milne poem)...by Sheila Claydon

Find my books here

This book covers some of the early history of Britain and links it to the present day.

Buckingham Palace

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -

Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

Alice is marrying one of the guard.

"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"

                                     Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -

Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

We saw a guard in a sentry-box.

"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"

                                     Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -

Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

We looked for the King, but he never came.

"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"

                                     Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -

Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

They've great big parties inside the grounds.

"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"

                                     Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -

Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.

"He's much too busy a-signing things,"

                                     Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -

Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

"Do you think the King knows all about me?"

"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"

                                     Says Alice.

A. A. Milne's poem Buckingham Palace, written about his son Christopher Robin of Winnie-the-Pooh fame,  was one of the first I ever learned. Written in 1924 it was about the palace of King George V. When he died in 1936 the British people had King Edward VIII, who abdicated in less than a year, and  then George VI, the late Queen's father. After him came our much loved Queen Elizabeth II.

Now, as the whole world knows, she has gone. The guard at Buckingham Palace has indeed changed. At the very moment she drew her last breath, King Charles III became King, as is the British tradition. So far he is proving to be much more popular that the doomsayers have been predicting for so many years. Not even the unkind and ludicrous portrayal of him in the Netflix series 'The Crown' seems to have dented the affection being displayed by so many members of the British public. This is probably because, as a nation whose monarchy can trace its bloodline back more than 1,200 years, we identify with him and his ancestors. Their history, both the good and the bad, is our history.

Times are changing of course, but nearly every little girl in the UK still delights in dressing up as a queen or a princess, while young boys use sticks for swords and race to be first to the top of a hill where they crow that they are 'King of the Castle!' It's a game that has been played for centuries, in the same way that many of our centuries old nursery rhymes and folk tales evoke our past kings and queens. 

These stories, rhymes and games are part of us, as is the casual way we refer to members of the royal family by their first names, as if they were our relatives. We know them from their photos in the newspapers, from the stories of previous generations, from cinematic newsreels and the radio in the years after the war, and now, of course, from television and news broadcasts from around the world. I had two favourite books when I was growing up. One, the factual one, was The Little Princesses. Written by their governess after she left the palace, it was a book full of photos and stories about the then Princess Elizabeth and her sister, Princess Margaret. In it, despite the castles and the wealth, their lives were so mundane and ordinary that it was easy to identify with them. And I did. I, too, had to wear a brace on my teeth like Princess Elizabeth. I, too, liked dogs and horses. I, too, wore a plaid kilt with a warm woollen sweater, and a coat with a velvet collar and button up shoes, just like them. 

 

The other book was Children of the New Forest. Set in the UK's civil war of the 1640s, it is a story of 4 Royalist children whose Cavalier father was killed fighting for the King. Escaping from Oliver Cromwell's Roundheads when they set fire to their house, the children were kept safe by a forest verderer who pretended they were his grandchildren. Much happens in the story before the King is restored to the throne, but mainly I loved it because it was set in the New Forest in Hampshire, England, in a place very close to where I lived. Also the children's surname was the same as mine before I married, Beverley. Naturally I thought they were my ancestors and told everyone so until I was old enough to accept that it was just a story. It did, however, confirm my Royalist loyalty. I wasn't about to support anyone who was prepared to burn down a house with children in it, especially children whose surname was the same as mine! Ironically, my son-in-law is a distant descendant of Oliver Cromwell, but I've forgiven him for that!

One of my earliest memories is watching Queen Elizabeth's coronation on a tiny black and white television in a room packed full of people. As the youngest I had to sit on the floor in front of the adults, which meant I had the best view. I can remember being thrilled that this young and very beautiful woman was a real Queen, not a storybook one.

When she was crowned, every schoolchild was given a tall blue drinking glass with a gilt rim as a memento. It was decorated with part of the the royal coat of arms featuring the lion and the unicorn, Her Majesty's initials, and a royal crown. Beneath it was written 'Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II June 2nd 1953. There were street parties throughout the country too. I can remember mine. I wore a white dress with cherries embroidered all over it,  a fluffy, short-sleeved Angora shrug, and I had a white ribbon in my hair. It would have been my Sunday best. 

Whether the nation will be as excited when King Charles is crowned is unlikely in these changing times, although it will still be watched and celebrated by the majority of the population and royalists will tolerate the inevitable republican grumbles as they enjoy the panoply of the traditions that bind them to the past. Our interest in the royal family is, in part, because most of us, somewhere, somehow, have actually seen at least one of them. Rarely to speak to, but because they visit so many parts of the country during the year most of us have watched them cut a ribbon or give a speech, launch a ship, attend an event. Over the years I have seen the Queen, Princess Anne, King Charles, the Duchess of York, Diana when she was Princess of Wales, Elizabeth The Queen Mother, the Duke and Duchess of Kent, Princess Alexandra, even the now disgraced Prince Andrew.Those who are divorced also remain part of the fabric of our country and the royals, as they are known, work tirelessly for the people, turning up to do the most mundane things and always with a smile and a kind word. 

So now, in return, many of the people have turned up for them, in a queue that stretches for miles, waiting patiently in line to pay their respects to a much loved Queen while also welcoming her successor. To admire, too, the stoicism of the royal family as they cope with their grief publicly under the relentless eye of the cameras. 

I am writing this immediately after the Queen's funeral. As a nation, most of us watched the funeral and the committal, either from the streets as the procession passed, or in the comfort of our own homes in front of the television. And we were proud. Proud of the precision of our armed forces and police. Proud of every member of the royal family, and especially their children who all behaved so impeccably for hours and hours. Proud of the pageantry and the colour. Proud of our traditions. And proud too of having had such a much loved Queen. Now it is over we will mourn her passing for just a little longer before turning to welcome our new King. Charles is the 62nd monarch of England and Britain over a period of more that 1,200 years. This is not something to be lightly dismissed as an anachronism because it is the cord that binds us to our past as well as our future. It is also the cord that binds us to one another, something that the new friendships made and the many tributes given by the people waiting in that long and patient queue made abundantly clear.

Without it we would have to reinvent ourselves.