Coram Regina – A Memory from the Queen’s Visit

This week marks 158 years since the visit of Queen Elizabeth II. To coincide, an Old Mancunian shares memories both of the visit, and also of the teaching of Latin and life in general at MGS during the 1960s.

A, ab, absque, coram, de

Palam, cum, prae, ex and e…

All those who studied Latin at MGS in the 1960s, and no doubt for many decades before and perhaps since, will have been familiar with Kennedy’s Shorter Latin Primer. This handy compendium of Latin grammar, declensions, conjugations and sundry rules was handed out to all of us, most commonly with the second and third words of the title on the cover altered by previous possessors of the book to “Shortbread Eating.”

The author clearly believed that schoolboys learned better if the rules could be turned into doggerel verse, so that the book was dotted with examples of this with a further block of them at the end. It’s questionable how far these verses actually helped, but back in the 60s the Head of Classics, R. M. Simkins, the inimitable Simmy, certainly thought they did and encouraged us to learn them. Even now, sixty years later, I can still recite quite a few so at least they stuck.

The one including the first two lines above deals with prepositions governing the ablative case, and the fourth word, “coram,“ meaning “in the presence of,” is notable for its rarity in Latin. In seven years of studying the language at MGS, and two more subsequently at Cambridge, I only encountered it a handful of times.

So what is the connection with the late Queen? In 1965 I was in Div II of Classical VIth, our form master being Simmy himself. I was also a prefect, so on the day of the royal visit there were various duties including shepherding the boys from one of the junior forms to the side of the drive from Old Hall Lane so that we could applaud Her Majesty as she walked along it. However that is not my main recollection.

In the run up to the great event we were told that the Queen would be having lunch in the Refectory and that some, but not all, of us would be allowed to eat at the same meal. I am not sure how the lucky few were chosen, but a few days before the visit Simmy took obvious pleasure in reading out the list of those who would be eating “coram Regina.”

Needless to say, he pronounced this immaculately – ray-ghee-nar – with the long “a” at the end indicating the ablative case. Correct Latin pronunciation was taken seriously at MGS. It was particularly important for those of us who had to translate into Latin verse, rendering sundry bits of Milton, Tennyson and the like into what might, on a good day, have passed for ersatz Virgilian hexameters or Ovidian elegiac couplets. Getting the quantities and scansion right was essential and remembering which vowels were long or short was a key part of that. So Simmy would never have mispronounced a Latin word, and clearly relished combining one of the most obscure prepositions with one of the most widely recognised first declension nouns.

As it happens, I was one of those chosen for the special meal. It was notable chiefly for having three courses, soup being the first one as I recall. Yet whilst little else of that august occasion remains in the memory I cannot forget that, for the first though not the last time, I was privileged to eat coram Regina.

David Ritchie OM 1959 – 66

The Visit of the Queen – Two Experiences

In light of the death of Elizabeth II this week, after seventy years on the throne, we thought we would take a look back to 1965 when the Queen visited MGS. The Visit of the Queen in 1965 rightly induced many pages of description and reflection in Ulula. Sixty-two years on it is interesting to compare the different experiences of those who were there. The “official” account read as follows:

“In the next seventeen pages we give an account of the Royal Visit. It is not a balanced account; some things lend themselves to verbal or pictorial records, others do not. Nor can it deal comprehensively with the reactions of everyone. The occasion was magnificent and stirred even cynical republicans to admissions of enthusiasm, while at the other end of the scale ardent royalists luxuriated in happy sentimentality. Between these extremes most of us put aside any reservations we may have had about pomp and protocol or the time taken from ordinary activities and enjoyed wholeheartedly the mixture of informality and ceremonial, the excellence of all that had been prepared for the Queen to see, and, above all, the grace, charm and interest which Her Majesty bestowed on the whole occasion. For though everything, even the weather, was perfectly prepared, it was her personality, her outgoing and radiant sympathy, which lifted the visit to such an inspiring level.

Her interest, so well shown in many of the photographs, must suffice as an indication of the excellence of what she saw. Whether it was painting in the Art Hall, climbing activities in the Gym, canoeing in the Swimming Bath or lute-making in the Workshop the standard was the same and the reaction of Her Majesty just as enthusiastic and interested. It is this wonderful display of sympathy and enthusiasm to which we have attempted to pay tribute in the few pages concerned with the displays.

After the photographs of the tour of the School we turn to a more formal narrative of the laying of the foundation stone, the lunch in the refectory and the final departure. Much has been omitted: the Queen’s entry down the Main Drive, the presentations, the part of the tour where prefects took over from the High Master and showed Her Majesty the Gym and the Swimming Bath. Some of these are mentioned in the unofficial accounts at the end of this section but comprehensiveness is not our aim. During the tour of the School Her Majesty was accompanied by the Chairman of Governors and the High Master and for part of the time by the School Captain and prefects. Now, on leaving the Workshop, she was rejoined by the whole official party. This consisted of Lord and Lady Derby, the Countess of Euston, Lady in Waiting to the Queen, other members of the Royal entourage and a civic party (including Alderman Chadwick, an Old Mancunian, then Lord Mayor of Manchester).

Thus accompanied Her Majesty went on to the major ceremony of the day. This was the laying of the Foundation Stone for the new Sixth Form Block which is now being erected in the space between the Gymnasium and the Library. This, though performed most gracefully before a large audience of guests and forms chosen by ballot, was perhaps something of an anti-climax. The loudspeakers did not do their job as they should have done and perhaps too the inevitable formality of such a glaringly symbolic operation accorded poorly with the lively personal interest which Her Majesty was able to show during the rest of the visit. Doubtless these things have to be done; nonetheless telling a man in the cab of a motor crane to lower a large stone on to a temporary wall will never have the glamour and drama of smashing a bottle of champagne on the bows of a ship. But still the symbolism was there and that is the essential part of the affair—the building will always be the one for which the Queen laid the foundation stone.

The ceremony completed, the Queen departed via an exhibition in the Library to take sherry with the High Master and the Governors. Then everyone went their several ways to dine, lunch or eat disconsolate sandwiches; which depending on their status or fortune in the ballot. The Governors and some of the official guests were nobly accommodated in the Meals Room. The other guests and the Royal Party joined members of the School for lunch in the Refectory. The menu for this meal was a source of some amusement to the School. It was described as a normal School Dinner; but it did not escape anyone’s notice that there were three courses instead of two and that the efforts of the Kitchen Staff had been very much more extensive than would normally be possible. Nonetheless it was no fancy banquet, merely a very good meal well cooked and well served. Of course it was not a normal School Dinner but it was sufficiently like one for it to have been true to claim that Her Majesty came and shared a meal with the School; as also she shared coffee with a party of masters in the Common Room after the meal. And so to the departure; a presentation of flowers by a temporarily cherubic first-former; a stately procession of noble cars down the drive past the assembled school and a final glimpse of a smiling sovereign prepared to give a special wave to two little girls standing away from the crowd in Old Hall Lane.

That special wave to the little girls was so typical of the immense warmth, interest and skill Her Majesty brought to the occasion. Even to someone as experienced as she a visit of this sort must be taxing but throughout she was no passive spectator but a keen and interested observer. One expects her to be able to cope with the small boy who says “Yes Miss” when asked if he is enjoying his work, but we were not ready for a memory which recognised Christopher Whittaker, who was to explain the gym display, as one of the horn players in the fanfare an hour earlier; or which remembered that Mr Corbett, introduced after lunch, had pulled the cord which unveiled the coat of arms. This is the expertise that comes of devotion. We can only say humbly how grateful we are that she honoured our School with three hours of this noble service of graciousness.“

The following description came from a First former:

“My first impressions of the Historic Day were as I first sighted the school from the pavement of Old Hall Lane. For instead of a mass of builders’ tools, a bright white marquee could be seen. As I approached the marquee I could see a platform covered with a red carpet and a brick covered with a small green tarpaulin on top of two wooden blocks. As I approached still nearer, a brand new motor crane was exposed to view. Entering my form room I was greeted by a deadly hush. Judging from my own form it seemed as though everyone had had his hair cut. Then came the hour of waiting. At last at 10-20 I, with the others in the choir, went into the Memorial Hall. There everyone from governors to cleaners came in, all in their best outfits. As time dragged on Mr Cawthra wandered round the orchestra in nervous fashion waiting for the arrival of the Royal Party. At last the muffled noise of clapping reached our ears, the quiet organ music ceased and the entrance grew nearer. As the first of the procession entered, the people in the hall stood up. There was a touch of tenseness in the air. Then it happened, Her Majesty entered, wearing a gorgeous hat and coat in deep turquoise. The programme continued with a masque specially written for the occasion. Then I hurried back to my form room where we had a “ normal” Latin lesson as the Queen’s party passed. This was followed by another waiting period until the foundation stone was to be laid. On arrival under the marquee we were ushered into our places by some prefects. There we were filmed by the BBC while the ceremony took place. This wasn’t very thrilling and the Queen didn’t even lay the cement. When she blessed the stone there was nothing to be heard as the microphones were badly placed. On our return to Room 12 we had a sandwich lunch while six of our form had a “very” ordinary three course meal in the Refectory. After lunch we were told to play in Birchfields Park. Then at 2 p.m., just three hours after she arrived on her lightning tour of the school, she left in brilliant sunshine.“

To see more photographs of the Queen’s Visit follow this link: https://www.mgs-life.co.uk/article/the-visit-of-the-queen-march-1965?ref=

To read more, follow this link and select Ulula Summer 1965: https://www.mgs-life.co.uk/article/ulula-library?ref=60