CORONATION PROCESSION

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23223, 22 June 1937, Page 17

CORONATION PROCESSION

KING AND QUEEN ACCLAIMED MR SAVAGE WAS INVISIBLE (From Our Own Correspondent) (By Air Mail) LONDON, May 15. Whitehall, one of London’s most famous thoroughfares, and the scene of many a national gathering, provided some of the best views of the procession of the King and Queen on their way to Westminster Abbey to be crowned. Well used to the massing of men and women, the passing of thousands, and the tramp of martial feet, Whitehall witnessed a scene unparalleled for a quarter of a century. By 6.30 o’clock practically all seats were occupied, except by a few sluggards who had risen later than 4.30. As Big Ben boomed out seven strokes the crowd had settled itself for the last stage of its long, patient, wait. Both pavements were packed, and those who had the good fortune to be on the outer edge sat frankly and unashamedly on the kerbstone, and watched the bluejackets lining the route. The grey mist of the early morning had lifted by now, but the sky was grey, sombre, and sullen. The crowd was strangely quiet, but there was an air of alertness, and every movement of the road sweepers flinging their store of yellow sand over the black bitumen Was watched by thousands of pairs of eyes. The flags, which seemed to sprout from every building, bung listlessly, but the flowers used so artistically and to such good effect on the Government offices were fresh and bright. Everywhere there was colour, enhanced by the gloominess of the buildings and the unrelenting heavens. Splashes of scarlet, blue, white, and yellow were in abundance, and uniformity was given by the grey and crimson cloth facings of the stands. Gradually, the road became golden too. CHEERS FOR THE CHIEF SCOUT An hoyr passed, and with it a few coaches trundled along to the Abbey, uniformed coachmen standing guard over the occupants. The Lord Mayor s great coach rumbled op its way from the citv. and throats were cleared, and the earliest of the cheering began. Mounted policemen moved restlessly to and fro. their horses prancing and champing at their bits. The first warm enthusiasm was shown when the Chief Scout, Lord Baden-Powell, in his Scout’s uniform, walked down slowly towards the Abbey, stopping here and there to give a word of encouragement to his boys, who were busy selling official souvenir programmes. And so the long wait continued. Chirpy Cockney sparrows chattered incessantly overhead in the newly-leafed trees. The two white lines of naval ratings’ hats, running all the way from Westminster up to Trafalgar square, were immobile. The sky remained sullen. Shortly before 9 o'clock there was a stir. All heads were turned towards Nelson’s column. A long line of what, in the distance, appeared to be a procession of large black beetles was appearing—the cars of the representatives of foreign Powers. Silently they moved over the sand to the accompaniment of occasional cheering as various dignities were recognised. At least four beautiful women were declared to be the Duchess of Kent—by those without guides or programmes and with no idea of the order of procession. By now the crowd had stirred from its apparent lethargy, its interest had quickened, and realising that the long-promised awaited pageantry was about to be seen, it demanded entertainment. The Royal Marines Band, which had contented itself by marching sedately over portion of Whitehall, returned to its post outside the Horse Guards Parade and obliged with the popular dance tunes. It was promptly greeted with cheers, and a chorused demand of “ We want more! ” THE PRIME MINISTERS PASS

The request, met with unruffled urbanity, was soon forgotten in a few minutes when a dark cavalcade appeared in the distance, relieved by flecks of red uniformed horsemen. Now approached to the Abbey the Prime Ministers of the Empire, headed by Mr Stanley Baldwin, who leaned forward with a good-natured smile, acknowledging the cheers and waving from his closed carriage. The scarlet jackets of the Canadian Mounted Police, following “their man,” Mr Mackenzie King, gave a colourful splash to the clattering procession. After Mr J. A. Lyons and his mounted escort came Mr M. J. Savage, rather lonely in his carriage to himself. Shy and retiring as ever, Mr Savage sat well back and was comparatively invisible. Mounted New Zealanders were his escort.

With the passing of the last carriage there followed another half-hour wait, and the crowd’s restlessness became quite apparent. The road sweepers were cheered ironically as they rattled their cart over the sanded way, and roars of laughter greeted one wit as he solemnly raised his blue peaked hat and enjoyed hugely the crowd’s good humour. Community singing was started fitfully, and the sun, having struggled for some time, at last pierced the clouds and shed its milk and water rays over the scene. The reward for further patience was a glimpse of the two princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret, accompanied by the Princess Royal and her son, Lord Lascelles, in a glass coach. Preceded by the bobbing red plumes and glittering breastplates of the Captain’s Escort, the two little girls, clad in white, peered shyly out of the windows, their large eyes running unceasingly over the masses. As the coach passed the Royal Marines’ Band the first bars of the National Anthem were played The onlookers in the stands stood up and stretched themselves, and won dered at the magnificence of the goldbraided lackeys as the coach receded into the distance. The princesses were followed by the Duchess of Gloucester and the Duchess of Kent, the latter no illusion this time. Another 20 minutes, with more cheers for the road sweepers, and then Queen Mary, accompanied by the Queen of Norway, passed on her vvay with every step of the horses jogging a memory of a similar scene 26 years ago. Now. the National Anthem was played in full, and the cheers increased in such volume that one of the black chargers of the bobbing escort turned and faced its companions and began to return to Marlborough House. It was soon checked, and reassured by the presence of 20 more companions, THE KING’S PROCESSION Now came the last interval, and then silently in the distance another caval.cade appeared at the top of Whitehall, advancing slowly—the procession of their Majesties. Red-coated, an officer of the War Office Staff, led the way, his chin high and his features almost disdainful. Once again, Whitehall echoed to the clattering of pranc ing horses ridden by jogging men with gleaming equipment and naked swords But this time, it was not a short appetiser. All the King’s horses, yes, and all the King’s men. preceded their Majesties—Yeomanry, Artillery with their creaking gun carriages, Indian orderly officers, picturesque to the last degree Royal Air Force men, field mai’shals in their scarlet jackets and their batons, the Air Council, the Army Council, and the Sea Lords —all on horseback, all jogging and nodding, followed by officers of the Dominion contingents including three New Zealander officers khaki clad, with green strips in their hat banding—Major C. F. Leckie, Captain H. G. Carruth and Lieutenant D Sweelzor,

More Indians, honorary aides-de-camp to the King, followed, and finally there was seen the golden coach of State drawn by eight magnificent greys and led by lackeys afoot Again the National Anthem, and then wave after wave of cheering Old cracked voices and voung fresh lungs veiled their hoorays as the King, wearing his striking Cape of State, and the Queen nodded and smiled A brief moment, a fleeting glimpse and the coach had passed But the cheering continued, reverberating the length of Whitehall completely drowning the clonping of the horses’ hooves, and lessening the interest in the remaining carriages. Their Majesties had passed, and the Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Kent, and

with their going, a large portion ot the crowd began disappearing in Downing street on the way to St. James's Park. More, however, was to follow in two hours. In the meantime, the bluejackets, their khaki gaiters swinging in unison, marched away in sections for a brief rest, the rc dsweepers began piling the wilderness of newspaper Utter, and the water carts and rubbish carts arrived to clear the debris. With the aid of loud speakers the remainder of the crowd listened to the Abbey service, heard the King recognised by the peers and affirm his intention to take the oath. As one the people rose as the Archbishop of Canterbury placed the Crown on the King’s head, and they nodded approval as the first of 41 guns was fired a few seconds later in St. James’s Park THE INFANTRY PARADE

Shortly afterwards a band clashed with the singing of the choir, and the loud speakers were turned off. Looking once again towards Trafalgar square, an amazing sight was seen. A long silver serpent appeared to be winding its way down Whitehall. It was formed by the gleaming bayonets of the infantry companies, swinging down to the Abbey. On they came, men from all parts of the Empire, from all ends of the globe, until the air echoed to the firm tramping of thousands of boots and the throbbing of band after band

Soon Whitehall was filled from end to end. and still the white thread twisted its way round from Admiralty Arch. First the Colonial Burma Contingents, followed by the Southern Rhodesians, the Newfoundlanders, the South Africans, and then the New Zealanders, with Major N W Weir at their i.ead on horseback. A fine lot they looked, bronzed, tall, and stalwart, swinging with easy grace along the route which they had travelled 13,000 miles to march. Next came the Australians, the Canadians, the Air Force, and the Indians. The stream of men and bayonets seemed unending, and the crowd was in ecstasy. But finally the last company passed, and Whitehall had seen the last of the Coronation of Kina George The siands emptied precipitately, and as the people filed through the Horse Guards Parade to the park the loud speakers were ringing out the service from the Abbey once more, and the air was filled with the singing of the choices! voices of 'he Empire.