“The Queen Mother”
Plan
1.A crucial bulwark for the House of windsor .
2.Elizabeth’s early years .
3.The end of the sunny youth ( The First World War ) .
4.Wedding with the Duke of York .
5.The early days of the wife of King George VI.
6.The Queen Mother searched for a role .
She was born when William McKinley was President of the United States and Victoria still ruled the greatest empire in the history of the world. Hitler was 11, Eisenhower 10, Winston Churchill had just been voted into Parliament as a 25-year-old hero of the Boer War. Electrons had just been discovered. There were no airplanes or tanks or radio broadcasts, no antibiotics, fewer than 20,000 cars in the whole country. The average British baby born the same day could expect to die before 50.
It has been the bloodiest, most tumultuous of centuries. But the women born Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother as she has been known since the year after her husband King George VI died in 1952, has accomplished the remarkable feat of traversing these turbulent times with a fame and popularity. Her famous wave and upturned hat brims, that tilt of the head and benign smile, her sharp common sense and enthusiasm for people and for life, have turned out to be a crucial bulwark for the House of Windsor and earned her a durable place in modern British history.
Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon was the first women not a princess to marry the son of an English king in more than 200 years, but in every way that counted she was no more a commoner that Henry VIII was uxorious. Her family had owned their Scottish estate, Glamis, since 1372; by legend it was the place where Macbeth killed King Duncan. She was the ninth child of the Earl of Strathmore and his engaging, vigorous wife. “Life is for living and working at,” read one of the needlework samplers her mother made; and Elizabeth’s early years, spent mostly on the family estate in Hertfordshire, combined steady doses of duty with the expansive enjoyment of country pursuits that was the Edwardian ideal. There was a pony called Bobs, pigs, cats, chickens, a garden with weeds to pull, a tennis court and a piano. She would raid the kitchen with her brother to snitch cakes and buns, retreating to the attic of an outbuilding and was outside by 6a.m. When she was 10, a palm-reader reported she would one day be a queen. She was affectionately teased with the nickname “Princess Elizabeth” – and liked it.
Certainly she displayed the aplomb of a monarch. At age three, she reportedly told a workman on the estate: “How do you do, Mr. Ralton. I haven’t seen you look so well, not for years and years, but I am sore you will be sorry to know that Lord Strathmore has got the toothache”. A classmate from the two years she spent at a fashionable London school – otherwise she was educated at home – wrote how the headmistress came for tea and found that Lady Strathmore was not yet back from an appointment. The nine-year-old Elizabeth stood in for her mom, “rang for tea, poured it out, and made conversation until her mother arrived.” She was sharp, too: that same year, already fluent in French, she started an essay on “The Sea” with a Greek quotation. She was told she was showing off.
August 4, 1914, the day the lights went out in Europe as Britain declared war on Germany, was coincidentally Elizabeth’s 14th birthday and marked the end of her sunny youth. Her family turned Glamis into a hospital for convalescing soldiers. Too young to join the nursing staff, Elizabeth helped with tending the patients. She would walk a mile into the village to make sure they had candy and cigarettes, write letters for them, serve meals to the bedridden, organize songfests. Thrown in with men of different classes having a tough time, she turned out to be a natural. One Scottish sergeant wrote: “My three weeks at Glamis have been the happiest I ever struck. As for Lady Elizabeth, why, she and my fiancay are as alike as two peas.”
When the war ended, she slipped easily into the life of a London debutante. Always a favorite with men, lively and engagingly flirty, she danced with many but caught the eye of a shy naval veteran, Prince Albert, the Duke of York. His father King George V was a martinet who scared his children. His mother Queen Mary was cold and remote, and his older brother David, the future Edward VIII, had charm and movie-star looks that made Bertie feel even worse about his terrible stammer and ponderousness. Elizabeth’s easy grace and warmth, and the cheerful conviviality of her family – so unlike his own – were an immediate magnet and he proposed in 1921. “You’ll be a lucky fellow if she accepts you,” the King told his son.She refused. Life in the public eye, in the frosty bosom of the Windsor’s and with a husband who could be maladroit and had fits of rage and agonized depression, did not appeal. But he persisted. Over time his warmth and decency became clearer, and in January 1923 Elizabeth accepted. Their wedding captured worldwide interest as editors began to grasp how to package royalty for a mass market. The BBC wanted to broadcast the glittering ceremony, but officials of Westminster Abbey refused.
Bertie was handsome and a fine athlete but needed encouragement and confidence. There is no doubt the new Duchess of York strengthened and steadied him. A member of her household later said that Elizabeth “”not only had all the courage in the world, she had the power to transmit it to you.” She eased Bertie’s way with his father, who melted in her presence. She helped her husband with the anti-stuttering breathing exercises that allowed him for the first time to make speeches without embarrassment. Their tour of Australia and New Zealand in 1927, in which her own people skills warmed many surprised republican hearts, was a triumph and a turning point in his career. The country also delighted in their two children, Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret, whose upbringing was more influenced by the warmth of the Strathmore than the rigidity of the Windsors – though the eight-month-old Elizabeth was left back in London for six months during the Australia tour.
Their great crisis, and greater opportunity, came when Bertie’s brother David, then King Edward VIII, abdicated after only 11 months in December 1936.
Bertie never wanted the crown and was ever more distressed because he felt the abdication had imperiled it. His early days as King George VI were miserable. But his stolid sense of duty, coupled with Elizabeth’s warmth and shrewd sense of the public mood, turned out to be a potent formula, quickly put to the ultimate test of a world war. Pressed to evacuate the princesses to Canada during the blitz, Elizabeth refused. She practiced shooting with a rifle and revolver in case the Germans tried to seize the royal family. Six bombs hit Buckingham Palace in September 1940. The King saw the roaring plane coming and pushed his wife to the floor, after which debris started falling around them. She turned the close call into a source of enduring public affection. “I am glad we have been bombed,” she said. “It makes me feel I can look the East End in the face.”
While the palace mostly abided by food rationing, serving Spam and sugarless cakes on silver plate, the Queen eschewed rationed clothing as she energetically toured factories, slums and blitzed cities. Instead she chose to look like a decorous movie star. She said later: “People stand for hours waiting to see me, even in the rain. They do not want me to look like the mothers in Windsor High Street – that would be unfair.” She plunged into the crowds too, the first royal to do the “walkabouts” now commonplace. She has that quality of making everybody feel that they And they alone are being spoken to.” It was her finest hour, “the hopeless, wonderfully impractical clothes in pastels and in high heels stepping through the debris, but being very practical,” says her biographer Ann Morrow. “People of a certain generation will never forget that.”
She would never again have the same kind of central public importance. The country reverted to a less demanding peace, and more importantly, her husband’s death from lung cancer in 1952 meant the powers of state and the public’s attention swung inevitably to another Queen Elizabeth. The Queen Mother searched for a role.
She moved into Clarence House and began a splendid, energetic, half-century “retirement” as a king of ambassador and national grandmother rolled into one. For 25 years she was Chancellor of the University of London, delighting in meeting students, going to their dances, drinking rough red wine with them until the small hours. She is patron of some 350 organizations and in her 90th year still managed 118 official engagements.
She lives in the highest possible style, with 50 servants from footmen to gardeners, ladies’ maids to chauffeurs. She is still acquiring horses, her stable having won 440 races. She spends every penny of the $970,000 the British government provides annually, and many millions of her own – or her daughter’s – besides, on artwork, flowers, her trademark couture and one of the finest tables in London that never skimps on the Hollandaise or the Jersey cream on fresh strawberries. She loves a stiff gin and Dubonnet too – or several. “Gin likes her too,” says Morrow. “It hasn’t the slightest effect on her.”
She is widely loved because she has always been her true self. and that includes, underneath the flouncy hats, a shrewdness and determination that helped deliver the British monarchy into its next century.
Notch – ïåðåâàëèòè, ïåðåéòè
Boer War – áóðñüêà â³éíàTumultuous – áóéíèé
Feat – ïîäâèã
Traverse – ïåðåòèíàòè
Turbulent – áóðÿíèé, íåñïîê³éíèé
Brim – êðèñè êàïåëþõà
Tilt – íàõèëè
Benign – äîáðèé
Crucial – ì³öíèé çàõèñò
Commoner – çâè÷àéíà, ïðîñòà ëþäèíà
Uxorious – ùî äóæå êîõຠñâîþ äðóæèíó
Earl – ãðàô
Sampler – âèøèâêà
Pursuits – çàíÿòòÿ, ñïðàâè
Raid – ó÷èíèòè íàá³ã
Snitch – ïîòÿãòè
Outbuilding – ôë³ãåëü
Consume – ç’¿äàòè
Palmreader – âîðîæêà ïî ðóö³
Tease – äðàæíèòè
Aplomb – àïëîìá
Reportedly – ÿê ðîçïîâ³äàþòü
Stand in – çàì³ùàòè
Show off – òóìàíó íàïóñêàòè
Coincidentally – çà çá³ãîì îáñòàâèí
Convalesce – âèäóæóâàòè
Tend – äîãëÿäàòè
Bedridden – ïðèêóòèé äî ë³æêà õâîðîáîþ
Tough – âàæêèé, ïîâíèé íåñòàòê³â
Natural – ëþäèíà, ñòâîðåíà äëÿ ÷îãî-í.
Strike – çóñòð³÷àòè íà æèòòºâîìó øëÿõó
Fiancay – íàðå÷åíà
Debutante – äåáþòàíòêà
Martinet – ïðèõèëüíèê ñóâîðî¿ äèñöèïë³íè
Remote – áàéäóæèé
Stammer – çà¿êàííÿ
Ponderous – íóäíèé, òÿãó÷èé
Conviviality – âåñåë³ñòü
Propose – îñâ³ä÷èòèñÿ
Bosom – êîëî, ëîíî
Maladroit – íåçêàðáíèé
Fit of rage – íàïàä ãí³âó
Appeal – ïðèâàáëþâàòè
Decency – ïîðÿäí³ñòü
Steady – ðîáèòè òâåðäèì
Stutter – çà¿êàííÿ
Rigidity – ñóâîð³ñòü
Abdicate – â³äð³êàòèñÿ
Imperil – ï³ääàâàòè íåáåçïåö³
Stolid – áåçñòðàñíèé
Shrewd – ãîñòðèé
Blitz – áîìáóâàííÿ
Debris – îñêîëêè, óëàìêè
Call – çàêëèê
Enduring – òðèâàëèé
Abide by – òâåðäî òðèìàòèñÿ ÷îãî-í.
Spam – êîíñåðâîâàíèé êîâáàñíèé ôàðø
Eschew – êíèæí. óíèêàòè
Slums – íåòð³
Decorous – ïðèñòîéíèé
Revert – ïîâåðòàòèñÿ
Chancellor – íîì³íàëüíèé ïðåçèäåíò óí³âåðñèòåòó
Rough – òåðïêèé
Footman – ëàêåé
Skimp – ñêóïèòèñÿ
Stiff – ì³öíèé
Flouncy – îçäîáëåíèé îáîðêàìè
Literature
Digest , 2001, ¹14 , p . 2-3 .