Letter: ‘I stood for 24 hours for the late Queen’s coronation!’
I’ve been sharing my memories of the late Queen’s coronation in 1953 with my daughter, who is helping me to write this. For me, it was not only the events of the day, but also those before and after.
I have lived in Hackney since 1955 and indeed was born here, but I spent my formative years in Fulham, living with my parents above the general store which my mum ran.
I was visually impaired and by 1953, aged 25, I was working in Whitehall as a Braille shorthand typist. I left work at 5pm the day before the coronation and went straight to the pavement spot on which I’d set my heart, where the procession would pass as many as three times, on the corner of Whitehall near Trafalgar Square. There I stood for 24 hours! I think concerned about me, my father joined me in the evening and stayed overnight. We crossed to The Strand to buy dinner and breakfast – and use toilets. He left early in the morning and to my mother’s dismay, woke her up arriving home. I’m not sure that she forgave him as she was left feeling tired and later fell asleep while listening to the coronation service on the wireless.
I had a memorable day. It may have rained, but as one of the few with an umbrella, I soon made friends. I took in all of the splendour, including that of the Queen’s carriage, as well as the music and the attendees – most notably Queen Salote of Tonga, whose open carriage was stationary in front of us. She engaged with us directly as the crowd encouraged her to use an umbrella, but she was in high spirits, having far too much fun to be covered up. Later, this featured in news coverage.
We cheered each of the various Commonwealth troops but the New Zealanders were given an especially loud cheer as we’d heard that morning that their countryman Sir Edmund Hillary had climbed Everest with Tensing Norgay.
I always remember, as I began to make my way home, walking down the middle of Whitehall, when Big Ben struck 5pm. I had spent an entire day on the pavement! Then, surprised to spot a Number 11 bus on diversion, I summoned the energy to run and jump on it.
Before the big day there was great excitement, and central London was decorated in celebratory, regal style. I had spent three years in Chichester having been evacuated there in 1939. I was billeted to a good family with a son, Barrie, aged seven, and daughter, Wendy, three. I adored London and missed it and my home terribly. At times I would entertain Wendy by vividly describing in detail the familiar walks I would take with my parents on Sunday afternoons when our shop was closed. Wendy’s mum often said: “When the war is over, I can see our Peter showing Wendy around London and standing on London Bridge.”
Before the coronation, I met Wendy at Victoria. We took in the view from the top of the tower of Westminster Cathedral, the shop decorations of Victoria Street and the flags and banners of Parliament Square, Whitehall, The Mall and Trafalgar Square. I said that we must go to London Bridge as her mother had envisaged years earlier. There, on cue, a ‘director in the sky’ raised Tower Bridge in a cinematic finale. I had not witnessed that before, or since!
After the coronation, the Queen made an extensive tour of the Commonwealth. She and the late Duke of Edinburgh made a grand return to London by travelling along the Thames, arriving at Westminster Pier. They then proceeded to Parliament Square, en route to Buckingham Palace. I was not going to miss this!
At work, in the Ministry of Housing & Local Government, I asked for permission to bring guests to watch with me from the offices. I was given responsibility for a room on the corner of Whitehall and Parliament Square. I invited the parents of the family to whom I was evacuated, and my father was able to come too. It was indeed a room with a view. Despite the remaining bomb damage, it is hard to convey the feeling of shared joy and freedom in this period of post-war optimism.
Although I cannot see now, on Saturday I will picture clearly the inside of Westminster Abbey as I often used to go there in my lunch hour. I was fascinated by the history so compiled my own notebook of detailed plans. I knew the Abbey like the back of my hand! I will have an image of the coronation ceremony.
I would still love to experience some of the procession, though at 95 years old and in a wheelchair, I will need to prepare – and pace myself!
Peter Gosnell