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Great Writing - Home > Extended > Day after Day - Chapter 1
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Extended Work
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| Day after Day - Chapter 1 | |
| By jean.day | ||||||||||||
| 27 March 2006 | ||||||||||||
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Another family saga - this time set from 1901-1908 but again in Worcester. The people and dates are real, but the story line is my invention. Again I make use of the book of poetry written by a family member in 1834. Edited version - 26 June. It was the Memorial Service for Queen Victoria, February 2nd 1901. Muriel King and May Stinton took their seats near the front of Worcester Cathedral. Muriel noticed that they were very close to the effigy of Robert Wylde in the Cathedral, almost up to the level of the Choir. These special seats were because they were guests, as Muriel was to have a part in the festivities later in the day after the church service, and May was accompanying her as her faithful supporter. Both girls had been in the Cathedral often, both having their twenty growing up years in Worcester but never in circumstances quite like these. Not a seat to spare, and more mink coats and fancy dress outfits than either girl had ever seen – to say nothing of those dressed in their regalia of office, like the Mayor, judges and other notables of the community. The Queen of course, had long been expected to die, as she was old and frail, but despite that, the whole country was in deep mourning for she was well beloved. Queen Victoria had actually died on January 22nd and her real funeral was even at this very time being held at St. George’s Chapel in the precincts of Windsor Cathedral in London. Cathedrals and Churches throughout the nation were holding simultaneous services in order to maximise those who could feel a part in saying a last good bye to this monarch who had given 64 years of service to Britain and the Empire. Muriel looked around the Cathedral. The sun was shining and reflecting through the many stained glass windows - giving a rosy glow to the proceedings. The west window, which was the most recent addition, was particularly stunning. “I wonder what this place was like in 969, almost a thousand years ago, when it first took form and was a Cathedral-Priory of the Early English style,” she mused. Muriel was very interested in Church architecture, and she knew from reading books and listening to her father harp on about it, that the Cathedral was first remodelled in 1084. Then when King John visited the Cathedral in 1207, he gave 300 Marks for rebuilding the cloisters and offices. He was repaid in 1216 by being given his choice of burial place – and he was interred in the centre of the chancel. Still the original coffin lid, it has a marble effigy of him on top. (Unfortunately, several bits of his effigy were missing, such as his nose, which was removed by the followers of Cromwell.) The Cathedral was rededicated in June of 1216 in the presence of Henry III. Henry VII’s son Arthur died in Ludlow in 1502 and his tomb is in the chantry south of the high altar. The Beauchamp tomb (The current incumbent of the title was in church today with his wife) is near the north door. “Then of course,” thought Muriel, “in those terrible years of dissolution and civil war, these blessed walls housed horses for Lord Essex and Cromwell and his men.” The cathedral has one of the finest perpendicular towers in Britain, built in 1374 and standing 196 feet. The Cathedral is built of sandstone and the architecture is of Norman period with an impressive crypt and the only centrally-planned chapter house of this date. The nave is decorated except for two bays which are Transitional with round and pointed arches. The misericords are from the 14th century. Another complete reconstruction was done in 1857, and the Cathedral was reopened in 1874, looking much as it does now, in 1901. The naves, aisle, transepts were all paved in marble. There was a new pulpit and a great organ was built with 4 manuals and 62 stops, the air being blown by a hydraulic machine placed in the crypt. The organist was someone Muriel knew slightly. She knew many of the important people of Worcester – because her father, who owned a very exclusive grocery shop, had most of them amongst his customers. George Williams King, although not involved directly in politics, was known and treated with respect by all the gentry of the city. The solemn tones continued with the assistant organist, Mr. Coul, playing Shubert’s Funeral March. The dignitaries had paraded in, the various noble and ancient lords leading the way. Earl Beauchamp in his full regalia walked past on the way to his seat. His Honour Judge Sir Richard Harrington from the Whitbourne Court in Worcester followed, with other court officials such as Anthony Swainson Allen, Herbert Arthur, Luke Jeson Sharp, Edmund Cox and Richard Amphlett. The local MP, Hon George Higinson Allsopp, the Mayor, John Alfred Stewart and the High Sheriff, William Kay paraded in. Then came the aldermen, Walter Caldicott, Ernest Augustus Day, Harry Day, Walter Holland, Charles Perrius, William Price, Hon. Percy Allsopp, Albert Buck, Walter Higgs, John Millington, Ambrose Knott and William Winwood. Then came various important men from the community including Warren W.A. Tree, solicitor. Muriel and May knew his daughters, Margaret and Jessie who were still attending the same school as they had, The Worcester High School for Girls, a Church of England School, and Muriel spied Miss Alice Ottley, their headmistress in the back of the church. And there was Fredrick Haillard the headmaster of Kings, also called the Cathedral Grammar School. It was founded by Henry VIII in 1541. May’s brother Tom was a student at Kings. The lectern and candelabra were decked in black crepe. It reminded Muriel about how the local newspapers’ advertising had been where to buy your mourning clothes, for the suggested 28 days of official mourning – so the shops would be benefiting from this day. “I too come from a noble lineage,” Muriel whispered to May. “I’ll tell you about it later.” “Hush, they’re just about to begin,” said May and at that moment, everyone one stood and the Bishop of Worcester, Rev. James Stewart Perowne took his place by the altar. The excellent choir, made up of 45 men and boys from the King’s choir school sang O God our Help in Ages Past. The Bishop started the main service with prayers for the soul of the Queen and for her family, who have the daunting task of following in her footsteps, especially King Edward VII. He then talked of the glory of the Queen coming into a new kingdom, the kingdom of God. Dean Forrest and Canon Melville read lessons and the service was from that Burial of the Dead. The Psalm, Lord Thou Hast Been our Refuge, was said. Another Hymn, The Souls of the Unrighteous Are in the Hands of God was sung, and then the service ended with the Dead March from Saul. After the service, the dignitaries and important people of Worcester were invited to the Hall of the Cathedral Grammar School, originally the refectory for the monastery that was part of the Cathedral itself and containing sculpture and gilding and colourings which dated from the 12th century. Here it was that the invited guests were to have tea and afterwards tributes to the Queen would be offered from the general public, this more secular venue being thought to be more appropriate for the views of the common man. The first tribute came from Charles Walker, elder statesman of the city, well known for his many literary works. Now aged 64, still working in the corn, coal and guano business in Lowesmore, he intended to retire later in the year. He said, “Queen Victoria reigned for nearly 64 years - longer than any other British sovereign. When she succeeded her uncle, William IV, in 1837, the monarchy was probably less popular than at any time since the 17th Century.” (He went on a bit and Muriel started to daydream. Then suddenly she realised that she had better pay attention as her part would be coming soon.) “By the end of her reign, the crown had been raised to new heights of prestige and affection, and the British Empire now rules much of the world, “said Charles. “I had the pleasure of seeing her majesty when I attended the Great Exhibition in 1851. I was on the Duke of York steps to see the Queen pass in magnificent and gorgeous procession to prologue Parliament. After she had passed we walked nearer Buckingham Palace to see her return and were within a yard of the carriage and had an unobstructed view of the first lady in Europe, a stout motherly woman, looking very good tempered and warm.” Several others spoke including Alderman William Bass Needham. His son lived just down the road from them on Lansdown Crescent. Then it was time for Muriel’s contribution. She had begged her father to allow her to be included in the programme. She was using a poem found in an album written by her grandmother for the Queen when she was newly crowned back in 1837, and Muriel felt the need to share it with the world, or at least the assembled company. Muriel enjoyed being the centre of attention, and was wearing her new black suit. The skirt was gored and created an elongated trumpet bell. The jacket had a high collar. Her lavish hat gave her a certain grandeur for the occasion. Her head held high, and with a deep clear voice she said, “This is a Poem written by my grandmother Martha Banyon Trew in 1834. “This is a Poem written by my grandmother Martha Banyon Trew in 1834. All hail to thee, Queen of the fair and the brave, The bold song of joy reaches the skies; Bright bright o’er the foam of her subjects wave See the star of Victoria arise. Young queen of the ocean – prophetic our fire To hail thee, the greatest we’ve seen Hark the thundering strains of the old sea-god’s quire To welcome Victoria the Queen. May years full of glory and loyalty’s love Be thine in thy place of renown; To say that we honour thee, means not enough For Britons all honour the crown. But the crown that encircles young beauty’s fair brow With fonder devotion is seen. And chivalry sheds its romance o’er the vow We pledge to Victoria the Queen! Long, long royal maid may the olive entwine With the laurels that circle thy crown; But if war should arouse the old lion again, 'Twill be to increase thy renown. To battle, while rushing each heart would beat high To triumph as wont we have been Propitious to conquest, our bold battle cry “Victoria! For England’s fair queen!” After her proud moment, Muriel was surrounded by those congratulating her on her performance and one lady said the quality of the poem had brought tears to her eyes. Muriel was pleased with their approval, but anxious to get back to her group of friends and usual pleasure of gossiping and planning for their futures, and more specifically their intended husbands. Muriel went to rejoin her best friend May, who was by then chatting with Charlotte Walker, and Eveline Duncan. These women, both spinsters, were ten years older than May and Muriel, but she knew them vaguely through family connections. Just then a tall, thin good looking young man came up and said, “Good to see you again, Aunt Evaline. I’m sorry I must rush, as I’m straight back to Oxford this evening, but I was very pleased to come to this service.” He then bowed to Charlotte and said, “Please tell you father, Miss Walker, how appropriate I thought his remarks. I have long held him in high regard, for his writing and opinions.” Then he turned to Muriel, “Congratulations Miss King, on a magnificent delivery of a beautiful poem.” And then he quickly left. Muriel was absolutely beside herself. Who was this wonderful man?. She almost swooned with pleasure from his words, and thought to herself, “This is the man I am going to marry.” She didn’t know how this would happen, she didn’t even know his name, but she knew that somehow or other, his name and hers would be entwined for the rest of time.
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