Protect and Keep E-Book

David Long

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

The summer of 2022 saw the celebration of the seventieth anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's coronation, the first time in British history that a monarch has reached this remarkable milestone. As the event was the first of its kind to be televised, images from the ceremony inside Westminster Abbey are instantly recognisable. Far less familiar are the scenes in the streets outside, where huge crowds assembled to see a procession of state coaches and historic regiments marching past public buildings festooned with patriotic banners and colourful grandstands erected outside many famous landmarks. Using a private collection of more than 200 rare images of London's West End, Protect and Keep looks back to the day that the Queen pledged herself to her country. It provides a unique and precious record of an historic occasion: the day of the Coronation as it was seen by ordinary members of the public.

Leseprobe

CONTENTS

TITLE PAGE

INTRODUCTION

1 THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE QUEEN

2 A THOUSAND YEARS OF HISTORY

3 WENT THE DAY BADLY

4 PREPARATIONS BEGIN

5 LIGHTS, CAMERAS … ACTION

6 HER MAJESTY’S GOWN

7 INTO THE ABBEY

8 REJOINING LONDON

FINALE: THE QUEEN’S CORONATION DAY SPEECH

APPENDIX: THE QUEEN’S BEASTS

COPYRIGHT

INTRODUCTION

Sixty years on, arguably the most enduring memories of that cold wet June day in London are of grainy black and white images taken inside the lofty hushed portals of Westminster Abbey. This, after all, was the first time in history that the government and church authorities had agreed to allow such a sombre and important ceremony to be filmed for television and enjoyed by the wider public, and as a result those same images were always certain to cast a long shadow as they echoed down the years.

At the time the impact of the decision was indeed immense, with literally millions tuning in to view what was to be the most significant television event since John Logie Baird’s first demonstration of his new ‘televisor’ back in the 1920s. Across Britain tens of thousands of households bought their first television sets expressly in order not to miss out on such an historic occasion. And on the day itself many thousands more, unable to afford what at this time was still a rare and major expense for most families, crowded into the homes of their better-heeled neighbours to enjoy the spectacle and pageantry of a truly splendid national occasion.

While much of what took place that day must have baffled foreigners, the excitement around the world was just as high, and with the coronation of the new sovereign of the United Kingdom the first such event anywhere in the world to be broadcast internationally, the larger overseas broadcasting organisations sent hundreds of their own commentators to London to provide bespoke coverage in more than thirty languages. Among them was Miss Jacqueline Bouvier of the Washington Times-Herald, who later that year married future president John F. Kennedy. But perhaps best served was Canada, the Royal Air Force ordering its advanced new Canberra jet-bombers into the air so as to rush film across the Atlantic in record-breaking time to be shown by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation with instant feeds to major US networks such as NBC and ABC1.

The quality of this coverage, the attention to the tiniest detail of dress and protocol, and even more so the sheer novelty of having cameras present at such an event, nevertheless means that those same monochrome images are today the only ones that most of us ever see. How many know, for example, that there was a good deal of colour film shot on the day as well, and that a colour film of the Queen’s Coronation, A Queen is Crowned, was afterwards narrated by the actor Laurence Olivier? (It was even nominated for an Oscar.) There was even some experimental 3D footage shot as well, although of course until the 1960s no home television sets at any price were able to show anything but ordinary black and white film – so that even now this other material is only very rarely seen.

Much harder to explain is that the photography and footage from outside Westminster Abbey is also now relatively unknown. Indeed much of this imagery – moving and still – is so rare that today it is all too easy to overlook just how big a show London put on for its new queen and for the world.

For weeks the eyes of the world were on London

The weather may have been foul – so much worse than on the days of the two full dress rehearsals which had been conducted in late May – and ‘Austerity Britain’ meant Londoners and others were still very much caught up in the grip of the post-war, ration-book malaise, but against this there was a real determination in the country to make the most of the occasion. From the early morning, the area around the ancient Collegiate Church of St Peter at Westminster was thronging with respectful well-wishers hoping to glimpse members of the royal family and other dignitaries and to share in their joy.

Evidence of this can be seen in the many famous landmark buildings which were festooned with flags and bunting – looking down on Piccadilly Circus the figure of ‘Eros’ was temporarily housed in a gilded cage – and the immense grandstands which were erected at strategic points around the route along which the new sovereign would travel on her journeys to and from this most ancient of rituals. Also on the Mall, still London’s only authentically ceremonial piece of town planning, where giant illuminated arches and crowns were installed to lead the way to Buckingham Palace2.

Happily the sight of all this can now be seen here in all its glory, in this hitherto private and unpublished collection of candid and informal colour photographs taken by members of the huge crowds which greeted the new sovereign when she emerged from the abbey. They show a London which is at once quite different to the London of today yet wholly familiar to anyone who walks the same streets sixty years on or views them from the top of a bus. By capturing the spirit of this great occasion, and the excitement which swept the country in the early summer of 1953, they more than anything convey the atmosphere and optimism and the real sense of history which was to greet Britain’s New Elizabethan Age. The death of George VI may have been sudden and tragic, but the coronation of his daughter was to provide a tonic for a nation still bruised and battered by the war – and a reason to celebrate.

Respectful crowds gather in the Mall for the rehearsal.

The weather was foul, but thousands came to see the pageantry and colour.

London was festooned with colours and decorative structures.

1 The operation, codenamed ‘Pony Express’, involved three Canberras lifting off at 1.30, 3.15 and 6.20 p.m. The flights took a little over five hours, so that at 4.15 p.m. local time a full ‘telerecording’ of the BBC’s coverage was able to be broadcast by stations in Ottawa, Toronto and Montreal. Across the Atlantic more than two million homes tuned in to enjoy the show.

2 Linking the arches along the ceremonial route, and providing flashes of further colour, were long lines of standards mounted with golden crowns and hung with four scarlet banners bearing the royal monogram, EIIR.

1

THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE QUEEN

The historic proclamation signifying the continuity of a traditional hereditary monarchy is especially heavy with meaning when the deceased was loved and respected. That was certainly the case on 6 February 1952 when the death was announced of His Majesty King George VI of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the last Emperor of India – and with it the accession of his daughter as Queen Elizabeth II.

Born at 2.40 a.m. at her maternal grandfather’s Mayfair townhouse at 17 Bruton Street on 21 April 1926, it was only the abdication of her uncle a decade later that placed the young HRH Princess Elizabeth Alexandra Mary of York directly in line for the throne. And now, on the death of Britain’s wartime king, as Queen Elizabeth II she became Sovereign Head of the Commonwealth and Queen Regnant of seven independent countries of the Commonwealth1.

The death was sudden but cannot have been entirely unexpected in establishment circles as the king had been suffering from a painful illness for a long time, and had undergone surgeries for cancer. At the time, however, few knew the full details of his condition, and certainly no one expected his death to come when it did. Just a week earlier he had visited the theatre with his wife, daughter and son-in-law, and shortly afterwards His Majesty had accompanied Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh to the airport, bidding them farewell as they set out on a lengthy trip through the Commonwealth on his behalf.

The king’s death occurred while the princess was travelling in east Africa, specifically while she and Prince Philip were staying at the Treetops Hotel in Kenya. (It was afterwards observed by a lady-in-waiting, one of Lord Mountbatten’s daughters, that Elizabeth had gone up the giant fig tree a princess and come down a queen.) Travelling to Sagana Lodge – a modest hunting lodge which had been given to the royal couple as a wedding present from the colony – it fell to Prince Philip to break the news to his wife who thus became the first British monarch since the Elector of Hanover, George I, to be outside the United Kingdom at the moment of succession.

In fact with the king’s health evidently in decline since the previous year, Princess Elizabeth had already been undertaking many of his duties. Now she was to do so on her own behalf, and once she had decided on her regnal name – confirming that she would reign as Elizabeth – the news of her accession was proclaimed throughout the Commonwealth, and plans were made for the royal party to travel back to England.

It transpired that, having retired to his Sandringham estate for the winter break, a place where he could relax and go hunting, the king had spent his last evening doing a crossword puzzle while listening to his younger daughter Princess Margaret playing the piano. After tuning in to the BBC to hear news of Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip, he had gone to bed, passing away peacefully in his sleep of a coronary thrombosis during the early hours.

The sad discovery of the king’s death was made by his valet at 7.15 a.m., the news being first broken to his wife, now the Queen Mother, then his younger daughter, Princess Margaret, and his mother, Queen Mary, the new Queen Dowager. Calls were made to London after which officials from Buckingham Palace made the short crossing to Downing Street to inform the Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill. At 10.45 a.m. the aforementioned formal public announcement was made from Sandringham House, to the country and the Commonwealth, and a declaration in London signed by nearly 200 Privy Counsellors.

Dressed in mourning black, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II arrived on British soil during the afternoon of 7 February. Following a statement from Downing Street saying that, ‘the Prime Minister feels that it would be in accordance with the wishes of the public that the return of the Queen to London should be as quiet as possible and that Her Majesty should be met only by those whose official positions make it appropriate for them to be present’, there was no public gathering at Heathrow Airport. Instead Her Majesty’s aeroplane, the DC-4M-4 Argonaut Atalanta of the British Overseas Airways Corporation, was met by Sir Winston Churchill, Mr Clement Atlee as Leader of the Opposition, HRH the Duke of Gloucester, and a number of members of her Privy Council. Conveyed by black Daimler car to Clarence House, she immediately approved arrangements for the king’s funeral before being met by her grandmother, HM Queen Mary, who as custom required curtseyed and kissed the new queen’s hand.

That evening the Prime Minister made a broadcast to the nation. The king, he said:

was greatly loved by all his peoples and respected as a man and as a prince far beyond the many realms over which he reigned. The simple dignity of his life, his manly virtues, his sense of duty – alike as ruler and servant of the vast spheres for which he bore responsibility – his gay charm and happy nature, his example as a husband and a father in his own family circles, his courage in peace or war – all of these were aspects of his character which won the glint of admiration, now here, now there, from the innumerable eyes whose gaze falls upon the throne.

Banners spoke for the nation – and the world.

Another statement was issued by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Geoffrey Fisher, describing the late king as a grand leader of his people ‘by reason of his courage, his simple humanity, his selfless regard for others, his single-minded devotion to duty. We thank God for his example.’ Cardinal Griffin similarly, on behalf of Britain’s Roman Catholics, sent a telegram mourning the sad loss ‘of a great King’. By his selfless devotion to his duties, said the Cardinal, ‘by his loving interest in the welfare of his peoples, by his courage in the face of illness and by his magnificent example of family life, King George VI had won a unique position in the hearts of his subjects.’

As reported by the BBC, it was Her Majesty who formally proclaimed herself queen, Head of the Commonwealth and Defender of the Faith, doing so from the sovereign’s official London residence, St James’s Palace, and in the presence of the Lords of the Council. These numbered 150 in total, and were joined by representatives from the Commonwealth, the Lord Mayor of London and other City of London dignitaries.

Before them all Elizabeth read an official proclamation, declaring her reign as Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second. ‘By the sudden death of my dear father,’ she declared, ‘I am called to assume the duties and responsibilities of sovereignty. My heart is too full for me to say more to you today than I shall always work, as my father did throughout his reign, to advance the happiness and prosperity of my peoples, spread as they are all the world over.’

Following the formality of this official Accession Declaration, the new queen held her first Privy Council meeting when her proclamation was signed by the Prime Minister, the Lord Chancellor and others present. It was then taken to the people, proclaimed at St James’s Palace by the Garter King of Arms, who with a cavalry escort then proceeded to Charing Cross, where he read it once more, and then to Temple Bar, the entrance to the Square Mile, and to the Royal Exchange. Ceremonial gun salutes were fired from Hyde Park and the Tower of London, and the process repeated at Edinburgh, Windsor and York and – albeit with somewhat less pomp – at shire, town and guild halls around the country.

The body of the late king remained at Sandringham until the queen’s arrival in Norfolk on 8 February. Once she had paid her respects to her father privately, his coffin, draped in the Royal Standard and accompanied by a bunch of white flowers from Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, was moved to St Mary Magdalene’s Church where estate workers kept vigil, day and night, until 11 February. On that day a small cortege accompanied the coffin to the station where the royal train was waiting to return the king’s body and the royal family to London.

In London, as was only to be expected, tens of thousands of people lined the streets to see the king’s coffin pass on a gun carriage from Victoria station to Westminster Hall. The crowds were silent and their mood tangible, one of unbearable loss, of actual loneliness for some, and of profound sadness for many. Pulled by Windsor Greys and closely followed on foot by TRH the Dukes of Edinburgh and Gloucester, and then by the other members of the royal family, the procession made its way to the historic Palace of Westminster where the late king was to lie in state.

Once there members of the two Houses of Parliament, the Lords and the Commons, would assemble to pay their respects, as later would more than 300,000 loyal subjects, ordinary members of the public being admitted to the ancient, lofty and silent hall once the royal family and establishment grandees had withdrawn.

For Queen Mary it was to be the third time she had buried a son. Prince John, an invalid, had died when still a teenager and was buried on the Sandringham estate. HRH the Duke of Kent had been killed in a flying boat crash in Caithness in 1942, leaving three young children. And now, a frail old lady widowed sixteen years previously, the Dowager was mourning the loss of her beloved Bertie, King George VI. Notwithstanding the sadness of such a thing, the occasion provided an opportunity for a unique and historic portrait of three queens and three generations: Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II, gathered together to see the passing of a son, a husband and a father.

The scene inside Westminster Hall was no less unique. Upon the dais the Royal Standard covered the king’s coffin. Above this set on a cushion was the magnificent Imperial State Crown, set in turn with many diamonds and other precious stones, including Edward the Confessor’s sapphire. Alongside this the King’s Orb and the Royal Sceptre rested, the latter the very symbol of royal power and justice, while eight guards mounted a vigil over the coffin both day and night.

Preparations for the king’s funeral were meanwhile well underway, in London and in Windsor, with heads of state from all over the world making their way to the capital. In Britain and in many countries abroad flags were flown at half-mast, and on the day itself, 15 February, an estimated two million people flooded onto the streets of London as, veiled and in mourning dress, the royal party arrived at Westminster Hall. (Queen Mary was sadly too frail to attend, and instead closely followed television images of her son’s final journey from a room at Marlborough House.)

Elegant archways sprung up along the Mall.

Servicemen and women from all three branches lined the streets from the Palace of Westminster to Paddington station, where a platform had been prepared for the departure of the king’s body for interment at Windsor Castle. At 9.30 a.m. exactly, a volley of gunfire, the first of fifty-six marking each year of the late king’s life, coincided with the half-hour chime from Big Ben as eight officers emerged from Westminster Hall carrying the coffin. Placed on a gun carriage, and pulled by ninety-eight members of the Royal Marines (with a further forty behind to act as a brake) the late king was conveyed through London as part of a grand cortege accompanied by bands playing slow, sombre marches.

The queen, the Queen Mother, Princess Margaret and the late king’s sister (Princess Mary, the Princess Royal) followed immediately behind in the Irish State Coach. Behind them came the four royal dukes of Edinburgh, Gloucester, Kent and Windsor – the latter in the uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet. The former King Edward VIII had made a rare return to Britain to pay homage to the younger brother who since the 1930s had shouldered the real burden of his own abdication.

Greatly swelled by further carriages and many more dignitaries marching on foot, the long, slow procession was to last almost three hours, finally arriving at Paddington station not much before 12.30 p.m. There, watched by the world, and in the presence of two queens and the two princesses, the king was about to leave London for the final time.

The sense of history was tangible.

In Windsor itself the mood was much as in London. In the shadow of the ancient fortress tens of thousands had flocked to the streets to see the cortege, to see the Royal Marines pulling the gun carriage with its sombre load. Once more the queen, the Queen Mother, the Princess Royal and Princess Margaret followed behind, this time in a Windsor Landau, and behind them came the same respectful line of royal dignitaries and statesmen slowly making their way towards the shrine of St George’s Chapel.