A QUEEN BY ANY OTHER NAME There won’t be many republicans in
evidence in London this summer. Even non- royalists will be caught up in the pageantry of Her Majesty’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations; an event guaranteed, even more so than the Olympics, to lift the nation’s spirits at a time of general despondency. As part of the celebrations The Queen has granted city status to four UK towns: Perth in Scotland; St Asaph in Wales; Chelmsford in England and Armagh in Northern Ireland.
There was another time in history when the country’s collective spirits needed lifting – sixty years ago. Residential streets were closed to traffic so that local communities could hold street parties. Bunting and Union flags hung from lines strung from upstairs windows on either side of the streets. Makeshift tables sagged under the weight of sandwiches, jelly and custard and bottles of Tizer.
Games were organztised, one of which consisted of the father of a family threading a needle and cotton which he then handed to his impatiently waiting offspring who would sprint down the road to the mother. The mother would sew a button onto a square of material which the offspring would then rush to the referee. Not all the families could participate in this game; some of the fathers had not returned home eight years previously.
In the evening we sat round our wireless sets to listen to our new Queen’s speech: “…Throughout all my life I shall strive to be worthy of your trust…”
In this speech the Queen also paid tribute to the support of her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, and the speech is as valid and as relevant today as it was sixty years ago.
Times changed. Britain changed; in some cases beyond recognition. But there has been one constant: a tower of strength
32
whose influence will not be fully appreciated until she is no longer with us.
In a much earlier speech, made in Cape Town on her twenty-first birthday, 21 April 1947, the then Princess Elizabeth declared “… my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service…” Well, we all know now that it was to be long. We also know that she meant every word she said.
How differently history would have read had her would-be assassin, Marcus Sarjeant, succeeded in acquiring a real gun and live ammunition. The mentally disturbed teenager fired six blank shots at the Queen as she rode in the Trooping the Colour ceremony on 13 June 1981. He was quickly overpowered by Police Sergeant John Woodcock and St John Ambulance man John Heaseman. He told them “I wanted to be famous. I wanted to be a somebody.” And he had written a diary entry: ‘I am going to stun and mystify the world. I will become the most famous teenager in the world.’
Fortunate not to have been shot on the spot he escaped with five years imprisonment. But most notable was Elizabeth II’s majestic reaction to the incident. As her horse, nineteen- year-old Burmese, panicked and reared she calmly brought him under control and
To advertise call 01279 410345
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64