THE QUEEN MOTHER

Press, Volume LXXXIX, Issue 27055, 2 June 1953, Page 14 (Supplement)

THE QUEEN MOTHER

[Specially written lor “The Presa," by

ANGELA MAY

LONDON, May 20. There is one unforgettable thing about the Queen Mother—her smile. It is not the set smile of polite acknowledgement: it is warm, friendly and spontaneous. It has put civic dignitaries at their ease, charmed the stiffness out of official occasions, unfailingly bridged the traditional gulf between a Queen and her subjects. For it comes from the heart. The Queen Mother likes meeting people; she enjoys hearing about their jobs and tai cing about their homes and families. That charming ease of manner is not the product of poise, or a long training in public life. It springs from an unaffected interest in all she sees and does. When she married the Duke of York in 1923, she did not envisage the onerous tasks that lay ahead. Yet, on the abdication of the Duke of Windsor, she tooK up the responsibilities qf a Queen with a natural grace that won not only our respect but our love. How much she did to smooth the way for her husband, George VI, has probably

never been realised. He was far' from robust, shy and retiring. His speecn impediment made public functions an ordeal. Patiently she worked , with him to overcome that impediment, not for weeks but for years. When King George made a formal speech those sitting nearby could see the Queen closely following every word, silently repeating the phrases to herself and almost willing him not to falter. His courage and her perseverance overcame that difficulty in the end. Happy Family Life Although engagements and ceremonies took a heavy toll of their days together they were able to retreat to the security of a happy family life with their two lovely daughters. Even in the vastness of Buckingham Palace, the Queen Mother succeeded in creating a home. Queen Elizabeth and her sister, Princess Margaret, were brought up naturally and wisely without undue emphasis on their future status. It was the Queen Mother who gave them their first lessons, went with them to the theatre and took them out on shopping expeditions. Remembering her own carefree childhood she resolved that her daughters should know the same happiness. She was born in 1900 at Waldenbury, Hertfordshire; but most of her youth was spent at romantic, 500-year-old Glamis Castle in Scotland. Elizabeth Angela Marguerite Bowes-Lyon, daughter of the

14th Earl of Strathmore, liked nothing better than to ride her pony over the wild Scottish moors. People who have seen her daintily dressed in her favourite pastel blue and a wide picture hat can hardly imagine her standing in waders in a fast-flowing stream patiently fishing hour after hour, as she sometimes does. It was clear when her engagement was announced to the Duke of York that this was no “arranged” Royal marriage. Their devotion to each other was always apparent. Mr Churchill said at the end of the war, “The Queen has been everywhere with the King—to scenes of suffering and disaster, to hospitals, places shattered the day before by some devastating explosion, to the bereaved and to the sufferers and to the wounded.” By the King’s Side Although her children were evacuated and her London home was bombed she never doubted that her place was by the King’s side. When he was on his visits to troops in North Africa she wrote a letter to him every day.

After the worst of the blitzes she would move among her people, calm, always smiling. Although she was Com-mandant-in-Chief of the three Women’s Services she never wore uniform. In those dark days she came as she had always done, refreshingly feminine in pastel coloured dress, a pretty hat and high-heeled shoes. Photographs do not do justice to her Dresden air. Jet black hair frames a wild-rose face. Her china blue e/es are direct and very beautiful. She makes few concessions to fashion. She likes furs, fringes, flowers and feathers and wears them with her own essential grace. That fragile beauty covers a lion heart. She, more than anyone, must have known the grave battle that King George VI fought against ill-health. Through the months of anxiety when he walked with death she did all in her power to lighten his load, thus gravely increasing her own burden. She carried on with a ceaseless round of official engagements, quietly and charmingly, although she knew her husband’s life was in jeopardy. After his death she sent this message to the nation: “I commend to you our dear daughter. Give her your loyalty and devotion; in the great and lonely station to which she has been called she will need your protection arid your love.” She above all knows how heavy can be the burden of monarchy, a burden she shared so devotedly and well with her beloved husband.