Morris Dancing to Rule Britannia

Wags (and the BBC docu-sitcom 2012) have dubbed the royal and sporting celebrations of this summer the 'Jubiliympics', a concise summary of the festivities taking place throughout Britain this year. However, as with most things, it’s not a new idea.

A correspondent to Cobbett’s Political Register, known only by his initials ‘CL’, mused upon how George III’s jubilee should be celebrated in 1809. Clearly a man with the benefit of a classical education, he recommended an extravagant celebration where no expense would be spared, which would encompass musical, thespian and Olympian activities. He advocated the construction of amphitheatres and temporary stages, the marshalling of musical bands, sailing and rowing matches, and the gathering of athletes and actors.

Almost one hundred years ahead of his time with the his notion to revive the ‘Olympian Games’, CL’s ideas now sound strangely familiar.

‘I would therefore recommend the institution of a National Jubilee to consist of Grand Sacred Oratorios, Amphitheatrical Sports, Thespian Amusements and various other public Diversions, somewhat after the following manner: Grand Oratorios should be appointed to take place in every Cathedral Church in Great Britain . . .Extensive amphitheatres should be erected upon specified plains throughout the country at proper distances from each other, in the centre of which gymnastic exercises should be exhibited, after the manner of the Olympian Games of Greece. . .

...These sports should consist in trials of skill in the arts of fencing, cudgel-playing or single-stick sparring, wrestling, horsemanship and the like; together with morrice-dancing, running leaping and throwing, &c. . .

. . . the air at every interval to be agitated with the most powerful bands of martial music, playing the national airs of ‘Rule Britannia’, ‘See the Conquering Hero Comes’, ‘God Save the King &c’.

So there we are: if the river pageant, the beacons and processions are not for you, celebrate the jubilee and the Olympics in one fabulous display of patriotism and sport synthesized by Olympic Morris dancing and wrestling while Rule Britannia plays in the background.

Loyalty, harmony & hilarity: the jubilee in Wales

To celebrate the latest leg of the Diamond Jubilee tour, the Queen's visit to Cardiff and south Wales, here's a taste of how the Welsh celebrated George III's jubilee in 1809. The quotations are taken from An Account of the Celebration of the Jubilee, compiled in 1810.

Cardiff, Glamorganshire

The Vice-Lieutenant of the county, the High Sheriff, the Corporation, the Cardiff Troop of Cavalry, and the Military stationed there, attended divine service; and the day was afterwards spent with the greatest loyalty, harmony, and hilarity, there being two public dinners — the High Sheriff presided at one of them, and Captain Wood at the other. The Local Militia, quartered at Cardiff, were liberally regaled with roast beef, plum-pudding, and Welsh ale, at the expense of their Officers.

Further north in Snowdonia, in Dolemelynllyn, Merionethshire,

Mr. Bowes, of Dolemelynllyn, called together upwards of 120 peasants, with their wives and children,and feasted them on the grass-plot before his house, while he and his friends enjoyed the spectacle. The following letter, containing an account of the proceedings at Dolemelynllyn, to the editor of a provincial paper, may be interesting to many persons, as a picture of the gratification experienced by the lower orders of society upon this truly joyful occasion.

Sir, Being a farmer of the poorest kind, near Dolgelley, our market town, where I usually go once a week on business, and in the evening, over a pint of ale, hear your newspaper read, which last week contained an abundance of news about the feastings and rejoicings at every place, and finding nothing about our feast at Dolemelynllyn, which strangers say is a beautiful place, where now lives (God be thanked for it!) Mr. Bowes, his wife, and two daughters, all strangers in this country, but who, ever since they have lived here, have done everything in their power to make their poor neighbours happy.

Please, Sir, to tell the world, that these gentlefolks did, on the Jubilee day, invite me, and above 120 more persons, who were poor and in low condition like myself, to a feast on a green before their house; we had beef, mutton pies, and puddings, such nice ones too, as few of the feasters ever tasted, or even saw before, and plenty, plenty of them. I thought my children, Evan and Lowry, never would have stopped eating. The gentleman and his friends stood behind our chairs, along with the common servants, without the least pride in the world; they would give us all clean knives and plates to eat our pudding. When the board was cleared, on came plenty of ale and then the King's health, with three hurras. Next we were took to a large room, where the young folks danced until past midnight; in the meantime we had plenty of ale and cold meat. Never was such a happy day, never, never. God bless the founder !

The Jubilee Asylum

King George III’s Golden Jubilee in 1809 was remarkable not only for the wide geographical scope – every area of the British Isles hosted some sort of festivity – but also because every event was locally organised. There does not seem to have been a hint of intervention from central government. It was an example of localism writ large in an age when speedy communication was measured in the single figures of horsepower not megabytes.

General discussion about the king’s jubilee began in the national press in the summer of 1809. There was some debate about exactly when and how the jubilee should be observed, because according to the Bible, a jubilee should be observed every 49 years, with the 50th year proclaimed sacred for reflection and forgiveness of debts and sins. The Grand National Jubilee of 1809 was observed for one day, on 25 October 1809, as George III entered the 50th year of his reign and the Biblical sentiments were observed by pardoning debtors, deserters and prisoners, and seeking ways to alleviate the suffering of the less fortunate.

In the letters column of The Times and The Gentleman’s Magazine, correspondents wondered whether the cost of illuminating buildings as part of the celebration might not be better spent on poor relief. On October 5, a minister of religion, urged the bishopric to guide their flocks towards ‘a sensible recommendation of public worship, public subscriptions and private acts of devotion, as far more appropriate to the occasion than the tumult, the riot and excess’ proposed by the secular authorities.

A rather alarmist letter published on 21 October 1809, signed by ONE WHO WILL ENJOY THE JUBILEE RATIONALLY, believed that illuminating windows ‘will be the signal for a mob to commence their lawless sport of demolishing windows’.

Courtesy of www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk

My favourite suggestion comes from the Morning Chronicle of 22 September 1809, which advised the establishment of a public subscription in every county to fund the construction of an asylum ‘to enable the poor, the old and the helpless . . . to commemorate the blessings of a reign which has made the people of great Britain so happy’.

It was an entirely laudable and well-meaning suggestion, although the author may have lost the sympathy of his female readers before the end of the first paragraph.

The king was 71 at the time of his jubilee, so the writer symbolically used that as the age of entry for men. And as he had been on the throne for 50 years this somehow seemed the logical age at which to admit women, especially because ‘at that period all women have lost the bloom of beauty’.  Logically, therefore, they should be locked up, with nothing much to look forward to except ‘a good dinner and a drink’ twice a year on the king’s birthday and the anniversary of his accession.

Diamonds in the Jubilee Portraits

Two diamond jubilee portraits, separated by more than a century, both evoke dignity, tradition and majesty. With the Victoria Memorial shining against an azure sky, Elizabeth II's portrait seems to deliberately emphasise her links with Queen Victoria.

The two queens share more than just a long and proud record of service, however. Elizabeth II wears Queen Victoria's Collet Necklace, which her great-great grandmother wore for her own Diamond Jubilee portrait in 1897.

This underlines the great continuity of the British monarchy, but more prosaically it seems to be a favourite piece of jewellery. Queen Elizabeth wore it to her coronation in 1953, and she wears it in her portrait on British coinage (pre-1998).

Like many items in the Royal Collection, the Collet necklace was made up from 'recycled' diamonds, which had preciously adorned a garter badge and a ceremonial sword. The large, detachable, pear-shaped stone is the Lahore Diamond, which was presented to the Queen (along with many other magnificent gemstones) by the East India Company after the Great Exhibition of 1851.
Designed by Prince Albert, this necklace was shown to great advantage in the 1859 Winterhalter portrait of the queen, and was one of the few items of jewellery that that she continued to wear during the long years of her widowhood.

The Queen's Steam Yacht

How times change. Although many people would like to see Elizabeth II presented with a new yacht to mark her Diamond Jubilee, many more question whether it is entirely necessary and whether it is affordable in these hard times.

In 1842, when Britain still ruled the waves, it was unthinkable that Queen Victoria should be deprived of a decent royal yacht. It is striking from Prime Minister Sir Robert Peel’s letter below just how quickly it was commissioned as a replacement for the aging Royal George. The following July, the Queen wrote to the Duchess of Norfolk that ‘we shall probably be making some aquatic excursions in our new yacht’ in September.

‘Our new yacht’, was the Victoria and Albert, the first steam-powered royal vessel, 200 ft in length, fitted with a 430hp engine and two guns. According to her biographer, Lytton Strachey, the 24-year-old Victoria was delighted with her new ship. 

'"I do love a ship!" she exclaimed, ran up and down ladders with the greatest agility, and cracked jokes with the sailors.'  The Queen offered it to the navy as a hospital ship during the Crimean War, but is only saw service with the royal family, making some 20 voyages until it was replaced by Victoria and Albert II in 1855.

Queen Victoria's visit to Le Tréport, September 1843, by Louis Gabriel Eugène Isabey

And the cost? Just £30,000 - the equivalent of approximately £1.5 million today.

Whitehall 22 September 1842
Sir Robert Peel presents his humble duty to your Majesty, and begs leave, with reference to your Majesty’s note of yesterday, to state that the first act of Sir Robert Peel on his return from Scotland was to write to Lord Haddington [First Lord of the Admiralty] and strongly urge upon the Admiralty the necessity of providing a steam yacht for your Majesty’s accommodation.

Sir Robert Peel trusts that your Majesty may entirely depend upon being enabled to make any excursions your Majesty may resolve upon in the early part of next summer in a steam vessel belonging to your Majesty, and suitable in every respect for your Majesty’s accommodation.

Sir Robert Peel . . . now finds that the Admiralty is building a large vessel to be worked by steam power, applied by means of a revolving screw instead of paddles. It may be doubtful whether the same degree of velocity can be attained by means of the screw, particularly in a very large vessel. Of this a full trial will be made.

Sir John Barrow [Second Secretary to the Admiralty] assures Sir Robert Peel that he has been on board a steam-boat moved by the screw and that the working of the engine is scarcely perceptible; that there is none of the tremulous motion which accompanies the beats of the paddles, and that it will be possible to supply an apparatus by means of which the smoke can be consumed and the disagreeable smell in great measure prevented.

Sir Robert Peel will leave nothing undone to ensure your Majesty’s comfort and safety in any future naval excursions that your Majesty may be pleased to make.