GLORY OF CORONATION DAY 50 YEARS AGO

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[WilliamDaily] GLORY OF CORONATION DAY 50 YEARS AGO



GLORY OF CORONATION DAY 50 YEARS AGO
Jun 2 2003
James Whitaker


I HAVE a number of childhood memories, none particularly upbeat. The
sound of bombers flying over my family home in Cheltenham on their
way to obliterate Birmingham and Coventry... a recurring nightmare
that German troopers would capture me.

The freezing winter of 1947, when deep snow was on the ground from
pre-Christmas to Easter; memories of my parents' dachshund, Bollinger
(named after the champagne), growling at my father as he tried to get
into my mother's bed when home on leave from that dreadful war.

And being bundled off to a boarding preparatory school at Seaford,
near Brighton, aged five (I asked to go because my cousin, Jeremy,
was there).

But my happiest recall is of June 2, 1953, the day when our glorious
Queen was crowned at Westminster Abbey. I believe it was a Tuesday. I
know it was a weekday because, I was by now at a second prep school,
and we all got a day off from Latin and maths, geography and French.

Having been born in October 1940 (I was known as a Blitz baby) I was
12 and in my final term at The Elms at Colwall near Malvern in
Worcestershire. Life was good.

I'd just passed my common entrance exam to go on to Cheltenham
College and was a successful athlete, representing my school at
rugger, soccer, cricket and cross-country.

This is relevant because the entire Colwall village celebrated the
Coronation by holding a sports day/fete on the green. I remember
winning two races and finishing runner-up in a team egg and spoon
competition.

Getting half-a-crown (121/2p) for each of my two wins and one
shilling (5p) for finishing second, it was the richest I had ever
been in my life.

In between all this effort we marvelled at the bunting, the Union
flags, the jellies, the egg sandwiches and the jam doughnuts (what a
treat) offered up for tea.

In those days, almost every man would wear a hat and a tie while the
children had baggy running shorts, a vest and plimsolls. I don't
remember a single track-suit and certainly not trainers.

The most exciting modern invention of all on show was the television
set, precariously set up in the cricket pavilion.

I don't know whether the one we all crowded around that June day (it
was about six inches square and, of course, black and white) was the
only set in the village, but I had never seen one before.

Even then, I could see little of what was going on in London that
extraordinary day. The set constantly flickered and grown-ups got in
the way. But the magic was there.

As children we were easily impressed. We were much, much more
innocent than our modern counterparts. I don't remember being
particularly deprived, but throughout the war there had been little
entertainment.

THERE had been shortages of fuel, food and fags, and rationing
(particularly of sweets) had been severe.

I suppose that crowning of HM, 50 years ago, was the day we came out
of one of the most depressing periods of the last century (maybe
second only to the Great War of 1914-1918). At last we had not only
something to truly celebrate but also a person who was as beautiful
as any film star.

But while we were living in our own joyous little worlds (similar
celebrations were going on all around the country) what was happening
in London and elsewhere?

The answer is: plenty.

It is estimated that nearly one quarter of the people then living on
earth celebrated Queen Elizabeth II's Coronation. In those days the
inhabitants of Britain and the Commonwealth numbered nearly
650million. Many headed for London. Certainly every hotel and
boarding house was full.

Every seat in every stand lining the route to the Abbey was sold the
day booking began and, in the black market that formed, prices soon
reached ?50 (value today: ?830) for a decent view.

Balconies overlooking the route cost even more: ?3,500 for 50 people,
including champagne.

Everybody, including us schoolchildren, was given a holiday. More, we
were variously handed Coronation plates, mugs (I still have mine) and
badges.

For the Queen, it was not quite so carefree. I'm not too sure, but it
is my guess that June 2 is the most significant day of HM's life. She
takes being sovereign very seriously. She always has done and indeed,
in her Christmas message the previous year, she asked us to "pray for
me." We did.

One should never forget that as she took her vows before God she was
anointed with holy oil. It is this single fact that means there will
never be an abdication.

There was the utmost care taken to ensure no slip-ups. Rehearsals for
the actual crowning ceremony were meticulous.

The Queen herself was not too hands-on. It was considered
sacrilegious for her personally to mimic in advance all the ancient
rituals she would act out at the Abbey.

Instead, the Duchess of Norfolk stood in for the Queen, who watched
anxiously from the sidelines. In the privacy of the Palace, HM
rehearsed wearing her heavy robes by pinning a sheet to her shoulders
to imitate her long train. She also played records from her father's
coronation over and over.

One of her greatest concerns was bearing the weight of the massive St
Edward's Crown, the official Crown of England. She rejected out of
hand a suggestion of wearing the Imperial Crown of State, made
especially light for the coronation of Queen Victoria.

Norman Hartnell was given the task of designing a gown of white satin
similar to her wedding dress of 1947. It was encrusted with seed
pearls and crystals to create a lattice-work effect. It had short
sleeves, a fitted bodice and a full, flared skirt. The neckline, cut
square, curved into a heart shape.

Incorporated in the robe were the Tudor Rose of England, the Welsh
leek, the Scots thistle and the shamrock of Ireland.

Inspired by her Commonwealth, there were the maple leaf of Canada,
the wattle flower of Australia, the New Zealand fern, South Africa's
protea, two different lotus flowers, symbolising India and Ceylon,
and Pakistan's wheat, cotton and jute.

On the day itself the Queen arrived at the Abbey from Buckingham
Palace in her gold state coach at 11am on the dot. By her reign, the
somewhat daunting tradition of a sovereign spending the night at the
Tower of London before being crowned had ended.

THE weather, despite June 2 being chosen by "experts" and soothsayers
as likely to be the sunniest day of the summer, was not good.

The 30,000 who had slept out on the streets the night before could
testify to this. It rained on them throughout the night. And for the
entire day there was intermittent drizzle. At my humble "do", beneath
the Worcestershire Beacon in the Malvern Hills, it was the same. But
nobody really cared. During the taking of the oath, part of the
service, the young Queen undertook to rule according to law. She also
vowed to exercise justice with mercy.

For her anointing - the part of the service that has always meant the
most to HM - she removed her crimson robe and sat under a canopy of
cloth. This was done with the aid of a 12th-century anointing spoon,
one of the few items to survive Oliver Cromwell.

This deeply moving but still wonderfully theatrical moment is the
central act of the religious ceremony. During it, the choir sings
that magnificent anthem "Zadok the priest... anointed Solomon King",
originally set to music by Handel for the coronation of George II in
1727.

Soon, and I remember this so well as I jostled to see the tiny silver
screen in Colwall, came the actual moment of crowning. Everybody in
the Abbey - princes, princesses, peers and peeresses - put on their
coronets and crowns before the great shout went up: "God save the
Queen." Our respect - yes, we were much more reverential in those
postwar days - was satisfyingly complete.

Our empire might have gone, but our admiration for the Queen and her
much-loved late father, George VI, was huge.

I felt the same as anybody else. Our material way of life might have
been sparse, my father might have been finding it difficult to get a
suitable job because he'd been away fighting for king and country at
a critical moment of his life, but I will always associate this
Coronation day as the moment we came out of a long, dark tunnel.

And there were those foot races to be won, worth half-a-crown each
and a sweet (what a treat) thrown in.

All in all, a day worth remembering and celebrating.