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LONDON PAGEANTRY

KING OPENS PARLIAMENT About once a year the State opening of Parliament interrupts with impressive pageantry the everyday life of London. After a new House of Commons has been elected at a general election, and at the beginning of every new session, the Sovereign drives in the gilded State coach from Buckingham Palace to the House of Lords to deliver from the Throne the “King’s Speech” in which the Government’s legislative programme for the session is outlined.

The procession from Palace to Parliament and the elaborate, richly-col-oured ceremony centred round the Throne are not only picturesque survivals of mediaeval days but events that throw a vivid light on the evolution, through troubled days of conflict between King and Commons, of the British consitution. Anyone who follows the details oi the State opening will become more than ever aware of the British genius, or weakness if you prefer it, for compromise, and the British unwillingness, even in these changing, challenging days, to abandon ancient historical customs that have lost much of their original significance. The next State opening will be on October 26. Parliament will be prorogued on October 21, having then completed the programme outlined in the last King’s Speech. To "adjourn, ’ as for the summer recess, would not meet the case. Technically a new Parliament is needed to deal with a new programme. So the Parliament that has completed the old programme is “prorogued”—a process that involves what is known as “the slaughter of the innocents,” the killing ot private members’ Bills that have not succeeded in passing through all their stages. The new session thus starts with a clean sheet.

It is in the process by which this new session is brought into being that the Throne plays its part. In the old days Parliament could not assemble till the Sovereign thought fit to summon it, and the Lords and Commons were expected to confine themselves to the programme put before them by the Sovereign in his speech from the Throne. It is characteristic of the British love of historical continuity that the prerogative of summoning Parliament, and deciding what it shall do, is still vested in the Crown. Theoretically, Parliament can still be summoned only by the Sovereign, but actually, since the revolution of 168 b. the Sovereign summons it automatically on the “advice” of the Cabinet.. Theoretically, too, Parliament must confine itself to the “causes of summons” set forth in the speech from the Throne, but actually, since 1688, Parliament always at the beginning of a new session asserts its right to discuss what it pleases. In the old days the speech from the Throne was made by the Sovereign in his own words. Now it is prepared by the Cabinet, and the Sovereign signs it as a guarantee that he will deliver it as it stands.

On the appointed day he drives with the Queen from Buckingham Palace in the State coach drawn by a team of Windsor greys through an avenue formed by the Brigade of Guards, and escorted by detachments of the Household Cavalry, Yeomen of the Guard, and other picturesque survivals in quaint and brightly-coloured uniforms. Crowds lining the route cheer as the pageant passes. ’ He is awaited in the House of Lords by a distinguished company of Peers in red and ermine robes, the Law Lords in more sober costume, the Diplomatic Corps in uniforms of many colours, anti Peeresses in evening dress, though it is still morning. On a raised platform at the end of the stately, panelled chamber stand two vacant high-backed chairs emblazoned with the Royal arms in gold. A few moments before the entry of the King and Queen the lights are lowered, except those immediately above the vacant chairs.

The Heralds, surprisingly dressed in Tudor tabards, and bearing such unexpected names as Garter King-of-Arms and Portcullis Pursuivant, enter slowly. This is the signal for the lights that have been dimmed to blaze out again to give the entry of the King and Queen a dramatic emphasis. Everyone stands. The women curtsey. Pages hurry to arrange the long trains of the State robes worn by the King and Queen as they take their places on the high-backed chairs. “My lords, pray be seated,” says the King. There is a pause while Black Rod, an imposing figure dressed in knee breeches, black coat and a cockea hat, is sent along the corridor, in his capacity as King’s messenger, to sum mon the Commons to hear the speech from the Throne. It might be expected that so important a messenger would be received with some show of deference.

On the contrary, the moment he fs seen by the attendants of the Commons they bang the massive doors giving entrance to the chamber in his face, and bolt them. He has to knock humbly three times before he is admitted. In that way the asserts its independence. Black Rod walks towards the Speaker bowing deferentially. But there is a hint of the old days when he cries in a loud voice, “Mr. Speaker, the King commands this honourable House to attend His Majesty immediately in the House of Peers.”

Commands! The word is still allowed to stand, but it is a tradition that the Speaker should not hurry to obey the summons but should leave his chair with deliberate slowness and dignity. When the Speaker has arrived in the Lords the Lord Chancellor kneels before the King and hands him the speech which he has undertaken to deliver. The King reads it; rises with the Queen; bows to the standing company and leaves the chamber. The ceremony may seem to some observers to have an unreal, almost theatrical quality, but it has roots deep in English history and shows no signs of yielding to the advance of time. In the afternoon both Houses meet to move that “a humble address be presented to His Majesty” to thank him for “his most gracious speech from the Throne.” But there is no real humility. Far from it. The first act of both Houses is to emphasise their independence by giving a formal first reading to Bills which are never heard of again till the opening of the next session—the Vestries Bih in the Lords and the Outlawries Bill in the Commons. This is done to maintain the right of Parliament to act as it thinks best without reference to any outside authority and to debate matters other than those set forth in the King’s speech from the Throne.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WC19371022.2.88

Bibliographic details

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 80, Issue 251, 22 October 1937, Page 8

Word Count
1,088

LONDON PAGEANTRY Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 80, Issue 251, 22 October 1937, Page 8

LONDON PAGEANTRY Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 80, Issue 251, 22 October 1937, Page 8