CORONATION TIDBITS

MOST APPROPRIATELY, THE MAY 2023 ISSUE of BBC History featured Tracy Borman’s “How (and How Not) to Stage a Coronation.” Here are my favorites, together with a Papal tale topping them off. 

Canterbury’s Snacks, 1953. Tracy Borman writes, “Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation was held in Westminster Abbey on 2 June 1953…. The Duke of Norfolk, as earl marshal was responsible for the proceedings, had drawn up no fewer than 94 diagrams, ‘each depicting different parts of the ceremony in which every minute was worked out, and every movement within each minute prescribed.’ ”

But it was Geoffrey Fisher, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who “was just as prepared,” says Borman. “It was a long and exhausting day for Elizabeth and her attendants, who had been up since 5am getting ready for the three-hour ceremony…. When the queen and her entourage retired to St Edward’s Chapel toward the end of the proceedings so that she could change her gown and crown, he handed round a flask of brandy and sausage rolls.”

“Yum, Ma’am,” pronounced with a short ‘a,’ such as in ‘jam.’

George II’s Garb, 1727. Borman recounts, “As George made his way to Westminster Abbey from the cool shelter of Westminster Hall, the unseasonably warm October sunshine came as something of a shock. Quickly becoming overheated in the heavy velvet and thick ermine of his robes, he tried to find shelter under the canopy that his attendants held above him, but the crowds complained that they could not see him.”

“To make matters worse,” Borman continues, “his crimson velvet cap—which was also lined with ermine—was too large for him and kept falling over his eyes. By the time the procession reached the abbey, George’s notoriously short temper was almost boiling over.” 

To coin a phrase, His Majesty “was not amused.”

The Second Wife, 1533. Borman writes, “Henry VIII’s scandalous second wife, Anne Boleyn, tried to dazzle her new subjects into submission at her coronation in June 1533, which was one of the most lavish events in royal history.”

“The theme,” Borman recounts, “was the assumption of the blessed Virgin Mary (somewhat disingenuous, given that Anne was six months pregnant at the time)….”

What’s worse, the new queen’s lord chamberlain, Thomas Burgh, “sparked outrage by seizing the royal barge of the king’s estranged wife, Catherine of Aragon, and ripping her coat of arms off it so that they could be replaced with those of her unpopular successor.” 

Borman adds, “Henry and Anne’s intertwined initials were displayed everywhere along the processional route. But this was turned into parody as the new queen passed, and cries of ‘HA HA’ could be heard among the disdainful crowds.”

Papal Highjinks, 1159. Throw in ecclesiastical certitude, and things can get really out of hand. My favorite is the Accession of Pope Alexander III in 1159. It’s a tale reported here in SimanaitisSays as part of “Papal Highjinks,” but so good a tale that it’s worth repeating there: 

There were 30 cardinals charged with choosing Hadrian IV’s successor, and 27 of them elected Cardinal Roland of Siena destined to become Pope Alexander III. However, one of the three dissenters was Cardinal Octavian of Santa Cecilia—and really a poor loser.

The scarlet mantle was brought forward for the investiture. After a customary display of reluctance, Roland bent his head to receive it. But Octavian dived in, snatched the mantle and tried to don it himself. It was wrested away, only to have one of Octavian’s supporters provide another. Octavian got this mantle on—only in his haste, back to front.

Roland’s supporters tried to rip the mantle from his back, only to get the fringe entangled around his neck. Octavian made a mad dash for the papal throne, sat on it and proclaimed himself Pope Victor IV.

Roland and his supporters took refuge in St. Peter’s Tower, a fortified corner of the Vatican, and waited things out. Having influential Romans on his side—not to say those 27 votes—Roland received formal consecration as Alexander III two weeks after the fracas. 

One of Alexander’s first acts was to excommunicate the antipope. Victor retaliated by excommunicating Alexander.

Needless to say, the recent coronation of Charles III was fine, but hardly a show-stopper. ds 

© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2023