More Memories of the Queen

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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!

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Burning of St Paul’s by Katherine Pym

London burning

Of late there has been a plethora of articles re: the London Fire. The reason for this is we are nearing the 350^th year anniversary of this spectacular event. Books are coming out. We’ll probably see a television special on it, maybe a movie.

If you believe in reincarnation, people who were there will remember it while we are being inundated with its drama. If you believe that memories can be passed down from one generation to another from the genes of our ancestors, if you are in any way related to them who lived through this event, you will remember the horror of it today.

The fire began in the wee hours of Sept 1, 1666 in Pudding Lane. A great wind rose that stoked the fire into a conflagration that did not end until Sept 5.

St Paul’s Cathedral was 2 churches in one. Underneath the grand structure, in the crypt, was St Faith where booksellers and their families worshipped. It was also a storage place for books, paper and printing presses. While the fire consumed the eastern portion of London city, people stored their goods there, expecting the great cathedral’s stout walls would protect them. 

View of London burning from Tower of London

When built 150 years earlier, the roof had been layered with lead, but over the years, holes had been patched with wood to keep out the weather. During the Civil Wars, horses had been stabled in the church. A blacksmith had worked within those vaulted walls, his forge chimney piercing through the cathedral’s lead roof.

In 1663 or so, a committee gathered to repair the old building. The closest they came was to enclose it with a webbing of wooden scaffolding. By Sept of 1666, the old cathedral was a neglected pile of stone. All it needed was a spark to meet its end, and what a spectacular end it was.

Wind whipped the London fire into a frenzy. It burned so hot, the glow and smoke could be seen for miles.  

People fled into the old church because it was stanchion against all adversity. They ran with what they could carry on their backs and huddled within the nave. Tuesday, as night fell over the burning city, the worst was yet to come.

“The pall of black, oily smoke over the city grew more and more dense, forming clouds so thickly charged with particles that a thunderstorm broke out, but it was unlike any storm the watchers... had ever seen. Out of the lowering pall of smoke, lightning began forking down around St Paul’s, the bolts stabbing into buildings that already were ablaze. The peals of thunder were lost in the roar of the flames and screaming of the wind...” ^{pg 134 Great Fire of London}

“The dry timber forming the roof above the stone vaulting burnt furiously... Large parts of the roof, both stone and burning timber, fell in, and the Cathedral became a roaring cauldron of fire...” ^{pg 177 The Story of London’s Great Fire}

The choir loft crashed into the vaults, causing the floor of the cathedral to collapse.  Tombs split open, their contents furiously burning.  Walls burst apart like cannon torpedoes, and the massive lead roof melted, pouring off the sides of the walls like silver rain.  It covered everything in a silver sheen before running in molten streams down London streets. 

Ludgate burning w St Paul's in the background

The next morning, a man named Taswell walked through the smoking ruins of London to Paul’s Cathedral. “The ground was so hot as almost to scorch my shoes; and the air so intensely warm that unless I had stopped... I must [would] have fainted... I perceived the metal belonging to the bells melting; the ruinous condition of the walls; whole heaps of stone of a large circumference tumbling down with a great noise just upon my feet, ready to crush me to death.” ^{pg 181 The Story of London’s Great Fire} 

Flames still burned from St Paul’s 48 hours later. Those who had sheltered in there slept with dead in their vaults. Piles of stone cooled under a sheathing of lead. It covered ancient relics in silver relief, reminders of the cathedral’s better days.  

The city hissed and smoked for weeks after. Over the months, spontaneous explosions would burst from cellars where the fire had never stopped smoldering.

Yes, we’ll see more of this in the coming weeks, but I don’t know if the extent of the calamity will ever be felt by those glued to their seats. Only those whose memories have drifted through the eons to this moment will really know what it was like.

Map of the destruction

Many thanks to:

Wikicommons, Public Domain

 

Bell, Walter G. The Story of London’s Great Fire, London 1929

Hanson, Neil. The Great Fire of London in that Apocalyptic Year, 1666. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New Jersey, USA. 2002

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