Uncle George Remembers XV

Uncle George leaves nothing to chance as he prepares for the Coronation.

“So that the ceremonies in the Abbey should have a greater chance of proceeding smoothly and tidily, with no hesitations such as when those taking part stop and look at each other anxiously with the unspoken question “What next?” (as indeed had been known to happen during previous Coronations), I prepared diagrams showing each and every movement of the seventy or so people who had active parts to play. These were in addition to the printed instructions which were themselves adequately detailed; and I prepared also a timetable which covered, minute by minute, and even at some moments second by second, everything of any consequence which was to happen within the Abbey precincts on The Day – from the arrival of the four hundred Gold-Staff Officers between 5.30 and 6.00 in the morning to 2.45 in the afternoon when the Queen left the Abbey in her golden coach.

Taken together these aids, plus a great many rehearsals, ensured that everyone concerned knew exactly what to do and when to do it – with the result that the whole world commented afterwards that they looked as if they had been doing it every day for years.

In the next few pages I will try to recapture a little of the Coronation atmosphere at the time by recounting some of the incidents , whether they were magnificent or trivial, happy, sad or silly, which occurred in connection with the great event. But first, so that what I say may perhaps be more easily understood, I will endeavour to encapsulate the Coronation as follows: its basic purpose is to confirm absolutely, with God’s blessing and with his subjects’ approbation, a king’s rightful kingship of his kingdom. The rites and acts which are performed in order to symbolise this are: the king stands uncrowned before his people. They acclaim him as their rightful king. He acknowledges their acceptance of him and promises to rule over them wisely and justly. He is then anointed and consecrated, after which he receives his regalia and his crown, which are the visible symbols of his sovereignty. After that, seated on his elevated throne, he receives the promises of his people to obey and serve him faithfully. This simple framework is enshrouded in solemn and splendid ceremonies which demonstrate its sanctity and importance.

The structure of a Coronation is and probably always has been based on precedent – what happened at previous ones. Thus the 1953 Coronation did not differ in essential from, say, Queen Elizabeth I’s, or indeed King Edward the Confessor’s, or even earlier ones in Saxon England or in other places, like ancient Byzantium. But of course there have inevitably been changes from time to time, though they were not numerous in 1953. Queen Victoria’s Coronation, but shortened by an hour or two, was the precedent followed.

The greatest innovation in 1953 was of course the admission of television cameras into the Abbey, and I have dealt with this in more detail elsewhere. Another change, only a modification really, was the relaxing of dress regulations in the interests of economy. Peers and peeresses of the realm, for example, some of whom were by no means in the upper income bracket, were allowed, but only if they were not taking part in the ceremonies and were beneath the rank of earl and countess (since they would be less visible because they would not be seated in the front rows), to have a substitute coronet, which consisted of a velvet and ermine cap such as is normally inside a coronet of rank but dispensing with the usual symbolic gilded metalwork, silver balls etc. Likewise, if they had no red velvet and ermine robes of State, they were allowed to wear less costly ones from a simplified design by the Queen’s robe-maker, Norman Hartnell. I wonder if many people knew that, in that seemingly veritable sea of red silk-velvet and sumptuous white ermine which filled so gloriously the south and north transepts of the Abbey where the peers and peeresses sat respectively, there was, here and there, velvet which was not strictly velvet, and ermine which was really Japanese white rabbit or, perhaps even worse, Norman Hartnell’s own synthetic white fur substitute!

The most sacred rite in the Coronation ceremony is the anointing which, in origin and significance, comes uncertainly from the remote past. The nature of it requires, or anciently required, a degree of privacy or shelter and for that reason a canopy is used, consisting of an embroidered silk roof supported by four silver-garnished wooden poles. By custom dating perhaps from the fourteenth century it is held over the Sovereign by four Knights of the Garter during the Anointing Ceremony.

The detailed action sequence leading up to this particular ceremony is as follows. The canopy is behind a convenient pillar, collapsed, folded and out of sight. At exactly the right moment four Gold-Staff Officers get it ready, hold it taut and, still behind the pillar, hand it over to four heralds who have come from their stations to bring it out into the Theatre (the central area of the Abbey at the Crossing) and transfer it to the four Knights of the Garter who are awaiting it there and who will proceed with it to the Sovereign, who is seated in King Edward’s Chair nearer the altar.

It was the strain exerted on the canopy poles in order to keep its roof taut that made me think it might be a good idea to have it checked over, especially as it had not been used since the 1937 Coronation and may indeed have been used at previous ones. It was carefully tested and immediately one of the poles snapped.

The mind boggles (though I find the term “boggles” is here totally inadequate) at the awful and indeed utter confusion which might have ensued had the pole snapped whilst the canopy was actually being held over Her Majesty during the Ceremony of the Anointing. My mind is still inclined to boggle when I think of it.

Another canopy, Queen Alexandra’s (made for the 1901 Coronation), was got out of store, carefully tested, and used for rehearsals, including the final dress-rehearsal, at which it was held over the Duchess of Norfolk who for that occasion doubled for the Queen. In the real event, however, the Sovereign’s canopy, having been repaired and thoroughly tested, though only just in time, was used successfully.

There was one other canopy incident, though it was of less importance. During a rehearsal the four heralds came out correctly from behind their pillar, but without the canopy they were supposed to be carrying, and advanced in their correct square formation towards the four Knights of the Garter who were waiting for them and the canopy in the Theatre. When the four heralds and the four knights met there was of course a moment of perplexity, because there was nothing to hand over. “Haven’t you forgotten something?” enquired the Earl Marshal, pleasantly. He was noted for keeping calm in an emergency.

(To be continued)

The Hon, Sir George Bellew, KCB, KCVO, KStJ, FSA.