“Although such incidents (the canopy cock-up) during the rehearsals could be treated lightly at the time, they were nevertheless disturbing to “the management” and had to be ironed out lest they be repeated on The Day.
Thus Lyon King of Arms of Scotland unhappily fainted during the dress rehearsal. His place during the ceremonies was a prominent one, standing in full view of everyone in the Theatre near one of the four great stone pillars there, beside the Lord Mayor of London, the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, and other significant dignitaries, and many of the people present saw him measure his length on the golden carpet and heard the distressing thump his head made as it hit the floor. Even as it happened, however, I raised my golden sceptre and an emergency squad of Gold-Staff Officers, specially briefed for such an eventuality and eagerly waiting for action behind a pillar, appeared like a well-trained flash of lightning and bore the recumbent Lyon swiftly away to where St John Ambulance men took care of him. Speed was the essence of the operation. Conventional stretcher drill would have broken the smooth flow of the ceremonies. As it was no one, except the Duke of Edinburgh who was seated in his Chair of State only a few feet away and half rose from it anxiously, and those who were actually involved in this little drama, seemed to take the slightest notice.
Since Lyon King of Arms was elderly and apparently infirm I persuaded him to accept a seat amongst some distinguished guests instead of standing at his customary place of honour, in case of a repetition of his unhappy experience. A Gold-Staff Officer was detailed to keep an eye on him even then and was instructed to provide him with a dram of a highland restorative should he need it, which he did.
There were moments too at rehearsals which required most tactful handling, as for example in the case of the Right Hon Harry Crookshank’s fidgeting. Harry Crookshank, MP, was Her Majesty’s Lord Privy Seal and was as well one of the best liked politicians of his time. Because of his high office he had a prominent part to play, in that he was one of those dignitaries who by custom stand near the Sovereign throughout the greater part of the ceremonies. Although he was Lord Privy Seal he was not a lord in the usual sense and therefore had no red velvet and ermine robe and gilded coronet to wear but only a Privy Councillor’s uniform which by comparison looked dull and drab. He was unfortunately of a somewhat sensitive disposition anyway and was obviously self-conscious and unhappy at the dress rehearsal when he started fidgeting, easing his collar with his finger, scratching the top of his head, looking at the ceiling, and so on, whilst the red velvet and ermine figures around him all stood as motionless as statues. The rest of the story can perhaps best be told as follows:
Garter King of Arms (during a pause and in a whisper): “Earl Marshal, could you possibly tell the Lord Privy Seal to stop scratching and fidgeting? It’s rather a delicate matter and I don’t think I am the one to do it.”
Earl Marshal (sotto voce): “Leave it to me.”
The Earl Marshal could be tough and at the same time tactful, and the Lord Privy Seal thereafter stood stock still, just like another statue, however much he may have been suffering.
There was one problem in regard to the swift removal routine which I have just described, which was what would happen if, God forbid, the Queen herself should faint. It would, one supposes, have brought proceedings to a stand-still, and might even have terminated them. I am inclined to think, however, that secret arrangements were made for such a horrendous eventuality but I do not know what they were, nor did I enquire. As far as I was concerned the Queen would not faint.
(To be continued)
The Hon, Sir George Bellew, KCB, KCVO, KStJ, FSA.