Windsor Castle (Part IV): The State Apartments

Let’s finish with my trip to Windsor Castle, shall we? (Especially since I plan on having many more photos to discuss over the coming weeks!) After visiting St George’s Chapel and Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House, I made my way—alongside EN and AT—into the main part of the castle.

The top of the Grande Staircase

We climbed the Grand Staircase—which is filled with glistening arms and armor, and dominated by a statue of Queen Victoria (that I was sadly not able to photograph due to palace officials)—and moved toward…

THE STATE APARTMENTS

Suffice to say, these Apartments are a bit grander and more formal than mine and Nic’s tiny studio apartment. In fact, you could probably fit our entire building in some of these rooms. But, such size is necessary given the functions they hold (e.g., a cozy dinner for 162 of The Queen’s closest dignitary friends). And as far as beauty goes, the Apartments house works of art by the likes of da Vinci and Rembrandt, and armor once worn by the likes of King Henry VIII.

Visitors to Windsor are allowed to visit the following State Apartments (whose names are somewhat deceptive at times):

The Waterloo Chamber: Built to honor the defeat of Napoleon, this chamber was once an open courtyard. Today it holds many famous paintings, the largest known seamless rug in existence, and is used to stage concerts and other private performances.

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The King’s Drawing Room: This room features many works of art, and a clock from 1730 that still plays music!

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The King’s Bedchamber: Though there is a bed, the Sovereign does not actually sleep here. Rather, it is used for formal ceremonies (i.e., telling the King goodnight—formally—before he goes to bed elsewhere).

[NB: This photo is not mine!]

 The King’s Dressing Room: This room has served as both the Sovereign’s private bedroom and, later, as a dressing room. Now it holds a collection of Italian Renaissance paintings.

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The Queen’s Drawing Room: Like the King’s Drawing Room, this chamber features many impressive works of art, including royal portraits of various Tudors and Stuarts. Also in this room is the famous Portrait of Charles I in three positions by Van Dyke. 

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The King’s Dining Room: Located between the Queen’s and the King’s Apartments, the room served as the dining room for King Charles II.

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The Queen’s Ballroom: As its name suggests, this long room was used for dancing (though I have a hard time imagining so many large gowns in such a narrow room!).

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The Queen’s Presence Chamber and Audience Chamber:  The former is essentially an anteroom used by visitors before they are brought before Her Majesty in the Audience Chamber. (NB: Given that they are open to visitors, I doubt the current Queen actually uses these rooms for this purpose—though I could certainly be wrong!)

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 The Lantern Lobby: This room marks the spot where a private chapel once stood. It is also the spot where the 1992 fire broke out, which is commemorated with a large plaque.

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 St George’s Hall: This room is ginormous! At 30’ x 185’, this room is used for State banquets—a 175’ long dining room table is brought in which can seat up to 162 guests. There are also panels on the ceiling and elsewhere that are inscribed with the names of various knights. According to one source, the plain white shields mark Garter Knights were have been disgraced by crime or treason.

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 Also on display in St George's Hall is the black armor used by the King's / Queen's Champion from the time of King James I through George IV. It is this figure's role to act as the champion of the new Sovereign at their coronation, in the (unlikely) event of a challenge to the throne being issued. It was required of the Champion that (s)he ride, in full armor, into Westminster Hall during the coronation banquet and await any challengers. (NB: The Sovereign—by virtue of rank—could not face his or her challengers in single combat.) 

A purely ceremonial position today, Queen Elizabeth II's current Champion is Lieutenant-Colonel John Lindley Marmion Dymoke, Lord of the Manor of Scrivelsbry and the Manor of Telford—he acted as Standard-Bearer of the Union Jack at Her Majesty's coronation ceremony in 1953.

Moving on... since The Queen wasn’t in residence, we were also allowed to visit some of the...

SEMI-STATE APARTMENTS

These Apartments were created for King George IV in the 19th Century. Today, Queen Elizabeth II uses them for entertaining. These rooms are made up of the Green and Crimson Drawing Rooms, the State Dining Room, the Octagon Dining Room, the China Corridor, the Grand Reception Room, and the Garter Throne Room.

This last one is the one I’m most interested in. Before being converted, the Garter Throne Room was actually two separate rooms, the King’s Presence and Audience Chambers. Today, it is where The Queen conducts investiture ceremonies for new Knights and Ladies of the Garter prior to their installation in St George’s Chapel on Garter Day.

The Queen's throne is the white chair in the distance.

[NB: This image is not mine!]

Now, you may be asking yourself, ‘What is Garter Day, and who are these Knights and Ladies?’

Well, this is the highest order of chivalry that one can be invested with in England, and its doling out is entirely at the discretion of the Sovereign. Membership is limited to the Sovereign, the Prince of Wales, and no more than 24 others at any one time (meaning that new members have to wait an existing knight or lady vacates their position). The emblem is a blue garter with the motto ‘Honi soit qui mal y pense’ (‘Shame upon him who thinks evil upon it’) embossed in gold. The Order was founded in 1344 by King Edward III.

In addition to Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Charles, other current members include: Prince William; the Princess Royal; the Dukes of Kent, Gloucester, York, and Wessex; the Kings of Spain, Sweden, and Norway; the Queens of Denmark and the Netherlands; the Emperor of Japan; former Prime Ministers Margaret Thatcher and John Major; and Baroness Soames (the only surviving daughter of Winston Churchill).

[NB: This image is not mine!]

[NB: This image is not mine!]

 Well, that’s all that I have to say about the interior—especially since we (obviously) couldn’t visit the section cordoned off for the Royal Family’s private Apartments. 

(However, you can see them from the outside in the photos below of the Upper Yard. The wall farthest away is where the private Apartments are located, and the wall running along the right-hand side is for official guests of Her Majesty. The entrance seen in the middle is the exterior entrance to that section.)

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little play-by-play of my trip to Windsor, and that you haven’t minded too much my geeking out!

Until next time…

Strolling Through Southwark...

As I mentioned yesterday, I really plan to make the most out of my remaining time here—apparently, I was determined to prove that point by going all out today! And what an amazing time I had!

I kicked off today by meeting my friend BC for coffee at LJ’s. She and I first met during my trip to Morocco and, like me, she’s an American studying abroad (in Ireland). We spent about 2 hours, just catching up and chatting about the similarities of our experience over caffeinated beverages and ginger bread.

Eventually it was time to part ways and so, after bidding one another adieu, I set off on the rest of my adventure. I’ve been meaning to spend some time in the Southwark area since arriving, but time and energy have simply not been on my side. Determined to rectify this situation, I started walking in that direction from Soho. En route, I made a brief stop at Forbidden Planet, a comic shop I had spotted earlier but hadn’t had time to check out.

Oh. My. Stan. Lee!

In the first few minutes of being there, I had multiple nerdgasms! They had absolutely everything this geek could want: there was a diorama of Yoda’s hut (inside and out, and perfectly sized for the Star Wars toys); statues of various action heroes and villains; a wall of everything Doctor Who related; plush comic book characters and action figures; loads of Star Trek stuff; and, of course, actual comics, books, and related films. 

Being on a tight budget, I restricted myself to two items. One of these was the first book from the Game of Thrones series—I’ve caught up on the television adaptation, and cannot wait to find out what happens, so I’m going to read ahead. The second item I bought was a two-disk She-Ra, Princess of Power DVD set. It’s basically the same ‘Secret of the Sword / Best of…’ set that we got in the states, but what caught my attention was the cover artwork: the Sorceress of Castle Grayskull was on there. Based on that alone (well, that and the £4 pricetag), I knew I had to have it! Imagine my further delighted surprise then, when I opened the pack and found that the disk images were the Sorceress and Shadow Weaver—my two favorite POP characters! #YAY!

Eventually I pulled myself away from Forbidden Planet, and resumed my journey to Southwark. 

Ultimately, I decided to go by the Tate Modern finally. Now, I should preface all of this by saying that I’m not the world’s biggest modern art fan. In fact, I’m not even the world’s biggest tepid modern art fan. Bottom line: I’m not a fan. But, I knew that I had to give it a shot, as the Tate Modern is one of the most famous art museums in existence. 

Gettin' my modern on...

I confess to enjoying it more than I expected to. The Powers that Be do a really good job of curetting the exhibits—for the most part, it’s really accessible, and ‘they’ provide the necessary historical and artistic insights that make these works of arts understandable to a wider audience. In doing so, they challenge the typical, alienating sense of religiosity and awe contained in most museum settings. I'm a huge fan of this demystification process!

The only downside is that this encourages people to bring their children. Not only is this inconvenient due to their sticky fingers and high-pitched squeals but, also, there’s nothing quite as awkward as realizing that a three year old is staring at you as you admire Paul Delvaux’s ‘Sleeping Venus’ in all her naked glory—‘cause you just know that little brat thinks you’re looking at Venus’ prominently displayed no-no parts when, in fact, you’re attention is drawn to the chick with the fierce red hair who looks like she just stepped out of a Tim Burton film about drag queens. 

But I digress…

There were a couple of pieces I enjoyed, the aforementioned being one of them. Another was Do Ho Suh’s Staircase-III. I was amazed at how detailed it was—including ‘simple’ details like light switches made out of fabric—and how this piece made me feel like I was in some weird dreamlike state. In hindsight, I really regret not getting a photo of it. (A second trip might be required at some point solely for that reason.)

Another work I want to mention, which I enjoyed seeing mostly for the spectacle, was the notorious Damian Hirst’s ‘For the Love of God’ (a.k.a. the crystal skull piece). For those who aren’t familiar, 

For the Love of God is a life-size platinum cast of an eighteenth century human skull, covered by 8,601 flawless diamonds, inset with the original skull’s teeth. At the front of the cranium is a 52.4 carat pink diamond. Since it was first exhibited in 2007, For the Love of God has become one of the most widely recognised works of contemporary art. It represents the artist’s continued interest in mortality and notions of value. Alluding to the iconography of the skull in art as a memento mori—a reminder of the fragility of life—the work can be viewed alternatively as a glorious, devotional, defiant or provocative gesture in the face of death itself. (Tate Modern website)

'For the Love of God' [NB: This image is not mine!]

 

 Now, I’m not here to get into a whole debate about Hirst and his art—I don’t know enough about the man or the topic to do so. That being said, I confess to liking this piece. And it’s for the same reason I like some of his other work that I’ve seen photos of, and even the earlier-mentioned ‘Sleeping Venus’: 

I like my modern art grim. 

You see, I realized today that I’m much more willing to give modern art a chance if it’s filled with dark colors and abject(ified), Gothic imagery. If it’s all simple geometric shapes with no purpose, pained in neon oranges and pinks and yellows, then I want nothing to do with it. Give me depictions that tell a story—about death, or about how shit this life can be sometimes—with dark blacks, and blues, and purples. That, I can appreciate.

But I’ve gone on enough about art. I did a lot more today than just that!

After leaving the Tate, I continued eastward along the Thames, passing the (rebuilt) Globe Theatre along the way. Eventually, I reached the Clink Prison Museum. Nic and I caught a glimpse of this place when we were here back in 2008, but we weren’t able to go in for one reason or another (I think we had tickets to do something that night). I knew that I just had to go there this time.

The Clink is a subterranean prison that was in operation from c.12th Century until 1780. The origins of its name have been lost to time, but it has been speculated that the sound comes from sounds of chains being affixed to prisoners—furthermore, it is from this notorious gaol (jail) that the slang term ‘the clink’ came to symbolize modern jails.

Undoubtedly arrested for public drunkenness...

It’s reputed to be haunted, though I didn’t see any ghosts. Honestly, I was kind of underwhelmed. However, it was pretty interactive—I was able to handle actual (reproductions) of torture devices that were used—and I did learn some new things, too. 

For instance, another common prison-related term used today—‘the hole’—can be linked back to the Clink. Except, rather than being solitary confinement (as we might understand it today), this was literally a hole that prisoners were shoved into and forgotten about. 

At high tide, the polluted water from the Thames would fill the hole almost completely, but not enough to drown (most of) the prisoners—instead, they succumbed to either hunger or various diseases they contracted from the water (e.g., Dysentery). It was also not uncommon for prisoners in the hole to become so waterlogged that their skin would literally begin to rot while they were still living. Terrifying!

The Hole! (You can't see it here, but the pit is filled with water.)

After touring the Clink, I climbed back up to the street level and started toward my next destination. I wrapped around the Golden Hinde, crossed London Bridge (which thankfully did not fall), passed the Monument to the Great London Fire of 1666, and finally arrived at St Paul’s Cathedral.

I arrived in time for the Evensong Service, which meant that I didn’t have to pay to get in (the main reason I hadn’t visited prior). I was able to go in and look around a bit, but there wasn’t really anything interesting that caught my attention. 

Don’t get me wrong: it’s absolutely gorgeous inside, and reminded me of so many pictures of the Vatican that I’ve seen over the years. Everything was a crisp white, glistening gold, or polished onyx—a far cry from the stony interior of Westminster Abbey, for instance. Nonetheless, I just didn’t have a desire to stay, and so I sneaked out before the service started.

St Paul's Interior

 From there I made my way through Trafalgar Square—passing the Royal Courts of Justice en route—and down to the Horse Guards Parade and Whitehall / 10 Downing Street. 

Regarding the former, today this is where the annual Trooping the Colour ceremony—which officially marks the Sovereign’s birthday—takes place, but in the past it was used for other events as well (e.g., jousts held for King Henry VIII). 

The latter site is the home of Britain’s Prime Minister. Sadly, you cannot see his exact residence from the road—the gate at the edge of the street is as close as you can get.

And, finally, I concluded my day by taking a brief stroll through St James’s Park, where I once again snapped lots of bird photos. But I also did this for another reason: for myriad reasons, I’ve found myself in St James’s Park about once a month throughout my stay. The photos I’ve taken there somewhat show the changing of the seasons, and will serve as a nice, overarching reminder of my time here.

St James's Park with Buckingham Palace

Okay, it’s late and I’m exhausted—and no wonder: GoogleMaps tells me I walked over 8 miles today—time to wrap this up! 

Today's Trip

Until next time…

Windsor Castle (Part III): Queen Mary's Dolls' House

Time for part three of my trip to Windsor Castle…

If you’ve been following along, it should be abundantly clear that I have a fascination with the various Queens who have reigned from Windsor over the last 175 years: Victoria, Alexandra, Mary, Elizabeth (the Queen Mum), and Elizabeth II. Well, this particular entry is devoted to an object bearing the name of the middle figure, known also as Queen Mary of Teck.

Queen Mary [NB: This image is not mine!]

The object in question—promoted as one of Windsor’s biggest ‘attractions’—is…

QUEEN MARY'S DOLLS' HOUSE:

This idea for this magnificent piece of craftsmanship is credited to the queen’s cousin, Princess Marie Louise. You see, it was well known at the time that Queen Mary was fond of collecting miniaturized objects (e.g., Fabergé animals). So, following a pleasant visit with her cousins Mary and George V, during which time they showered her with hospitality, Princess Marie Louise decided to create the dolls' house as a token of her gratitude. After gaining The Queen’s permission, the princess began consulting with the eventual designer of the not-so-tiny dwelling.

Queen Mary's Dolls' House

 According to the Royal Collection website (which is fun and interactive, and allows visitors to explore the dolls' house in great detail),

Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House is the largest [built on a scale of 1:12], most beautiful, and most famous dolls’ house in the world. Built for Queen Mary, consort of King George V, by the leading British architect Sir Edwin Lutyens between 1921 and 1924, it includes contributions from over 1,500 of the finest artists, craftsmen and manufacturers of the early 20th century. From life below stairs to the high-society setting of the saloon and dining room, a library bursting with original works by the top literary names of the day, a fully stocked wine cellar and a garden created by Gertrude Jekyll, no detail was forgotten—the Queen’s Dolls’ House even includes electricity, running hot and cold water and working lifts. Each room, is fully furnished in every way, and waiting to be explored. (Royal Collection Website) 

The Saloon (top), The Dining Room (bottom), the Storage Room with tiny crowns (middle-left)

 The level of detail, as noted in the detail above, is incredible! 

Designed to show how the Royal Family lived in the 1920s, the dolls’ house has tiny wine bottles filled with the actual vintages on the label, replicas of famous books and paintings (some of which have been skillfully created by the original artists), and even miniature toilet paper rolls in the bathrooms. 

The Library

 

And, as noted, the plumbing (with hot and cold running water) and electricity actually work—once every year, the close the exhibit and flush the system to keep everything going!

Following its completion, Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House was put on display at the British Empire Exhibition (1924-25) to raise money for the Queen’s myriad charities.

It truly is an amazing piece of artistry, and worth seeing if you ever make it to Windsor!

Until next time…

Thirty Days Left...

Thirty days. 

As of today—6 May 2012—that’s all I have left of my time in London. As usual, I’m behind with this thing, but didn’t want this milestone to pass by without saying a little something about it.

All in all, this timeframe marks the beginning of a period of transition—things here draw to a close, as I begin the trek back to my own weird version of ‘normality.’ And it’s not just the big things that are concluding, like my semester as a University of East London student. It’s also the little things, like the huge canister of coffee I’ve used throughout most of my stay finally drying up (the day after classes ended, ironically). Let’s ignore the coffee for a second, though, and look at my time as a student instead. 

UEL Docklands Campus

 Because the US Olympic team will be staying in UEL’s dorms, the entire semester calendar was out of whack. Basically, we turned in midterms, had two weeks of Easter Break, one week of classes, and then our finals were due. 

It was a whirlwind, crazy experience—and if you’ve been following me on Facebook, you know the experience was both taxing and moody-making. Nonetheless, I persevered, and in the end I think I handed in three strong final works.

Most likely, I won’t know how I did on those final projects until I’m back home, but I can talk about how I did on my midterms, as well as offer some final feedback on my experiences in the corresponding modules:

‘Cultural Politics: Power & Contemporary Social Change’ (CC1202; you can find the module description here): Though it served as mostly a refresher course for me, I did enjoy this course quite a bit. The instructors, SM and DS, were my favorites, and really knew what they were talking about. Also, I walked away feeling like I had a much better understanding of Marx—though I still prefer Foucault for his focus on questions of identity.

My CW1 (midterm) assignment was, literally, just the first draft of my final piece. A reflexive work, it explored gay men’s participation in the act of marthoning/triathloning as a form of body-modification and self-surveillance (in the Foucauldian sense) rooted in the discourse of HIV/AIDS and the idealized (gay) male form. On CW1 I scored First-Class marks (the equivalent of an ‘A’), and the assessor’s feedback listed my work as 'a very substantial and scholarly case study that uses excellent examples.’ Based on the early feedback I received on CW2, I’m fairly confident that I’ll receive First-Class marks on the completed work as well.

‘Realism, Fantasy & Utopia’ (CC2202; you can find the module description here): Whereas DS was the co-instructor in the aforementioned class, this module was solely hers. And it was amazing—by far, it was the most brilliant of the courses I took at UEL. My love of this class was not solely based on our phenomenal guide, however—equal credit goes to the amazing friends I’ve made therein, amongst them TvH, RAS, SV, and AR! 

As far as my midterm goes, I also received First-Class marks on this one. It was a rather easy assignment, wherein we merely had to explain the concepts of realism, fantasy, and utopia. As a funny aside, one of the critiques DS offered of my work was that she felt I was too quick to privilege the perspective of the artist/author—she and I have subsequently agreed to discuss this further, as this is an argument I tend to get into with everyone. I strongly feel that too much credit is already given to the reader, and that rather than privileging either the author or the reader, one needs to pay equal lip-service to both perspectives. After all, to overlook the author’s intent de-historicizes and depoliticizes the work. 

Based on the early feedback I received on my final essay—a critique of American Horror Story as a heteronorm-affirming Gothic text—I think DS and I are much more in-sync this time around. This second piece was approached from a Feminist and Queer theory perspective, and DS seemed really excited when she read the draft version. I’m hoping for First-Class marks on this essay and, with her help, I’m hoping to submit it to the Watercool Journal for publication—if accepted, that would be the second piece I’ve had electronically published in a peer-reviewed journal!

‘Culture, Power & Resistance in the 21st Century’ (CC3202; you can find the module description here): By far—by leaps and bounds, and fathoms and light-years—this was my least favorite of the three classes. The instructor was highly disorganized, often came across as condescending toward me, and lacked time-management skills. I highly recommend that Columbia students do not take this class. 

As a result of myriad problems I had in this class—which, to be completely fair, included the resistance I developed after one too many failures to meet what I consider good teaching practices—my CW1 assignment from this class only garnered a 68 (i.e., ‘B’ / 2.I classification). I don’t hold out hopes for a higher score from my CW2 assignment, as the instructor replied with his feedback right before the deadline—5 full days after the date he agreed to. Fortunately, I suspected something like that might happen, and so I asked DS for feedback as well. With her help, I was able to turn my work into something that should at least enable me to pass the class.

Overall, my experience with UEL was a good one. I definitely miss my home-uni, despite it’s countless problems—and I definitely miss CCC’s technology infrastructure, ‘cause UEL’s is atrocious—but the University of East London has been a nice classroom-away-from-home, and I will be eternally grateful for this amazing opportunity! 

So, what now?

Well, as I noted earlier, it’s a time of transition. The biggest thing on the horizon once I return to Chicago is my participation in the Chicago Marathon (26 miles). Given that I’ve never run that distance before—in addition to triathlons, I’ve only ever done a half-marathon—I’ve had to start training here. Yesterday I went for my first 3 mile run of the season. It wasn’t bad, but it was a bit chilly—9˚C/48˚F, with a cold drizzle—and a bit slower than I wanted. Ah, well. By the time I return to Chicago on 5 June, I’m supposed to be running 7 miles.

Speaking of the marathon, I should probably take a brief second to tell/remind folks why I’m doing it. You see, for the third year in a row, I am part of the amazing Team to End AIDS (T2) but, this year I’m putting my bike and wetsuit aside, and solely workin’ the running shoes! (Get it? ‘solely’ and ‘running shoes’? It’s a shoe-joke.)

Take a moment to watch this short video, as it tells you a little more about the journey I'm about to embark upon:

However, in order to train with T2 I have to raise (a minimum) of $1200 by July 1st for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago (AFC). HIV/AIDS continues to be a very real problem today, even though it’s not always talked about in the US. In fact, every 9 1/2 minutes someone in the United States is infected with HIV, and each year people grieve for loved ones whose lives have been claimed by the disease. Fortunately, AFC—which was founded in 1985 by community activists and physicians—is leading the fight against HIV/AIDS, and striving to improve the lives of people in the Chicago area who are affected by this pandemic. By funding prevention programs and vital services such as medical care, food and housing, AFC works to stop new infections while helping to keep people with HIV/AIDS alive until the day there’s a cure.

So here’s the skinny:

On top of wanting to overcome a new physical challenge (and achieve a fit-in-the-British-sense body), I desperately need help in raising $1200 for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago this year. As of right now, I only have $540 to go! Not only will sponsors be joining me in the fight against HIV/AIDS, but they will also be supporting me in the pursual of a personal goal that—even a year ago—I never considered possible.

All one has to do is visit my fundraising page and click on the ‘Sponsor Me’ button in the upper left-hand corner (or, if interested in making alternative payment arrangements—which includes sponsorship by volunteerism—just let me know). Any and all donations are appreciated, including those from people living outside of the U.S., and they’re tax deductible to boot!

AC, JD, AT, Nic, and Me after completing the 2011 Chicago Triathlon with T2.

Other than that, the plan is simply to make the most of my remaining 30 days abroad. 

I’ve certainly already started in regards to celebrating my time here—a certain less than stellar photo of me drinking a Mojito out of a suitcase attests to that (thanks, TvH and LD). But I’ve got some other things planned too. For instance, on Wednesday I’m going to go watch as The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh make their way to Westminster for the State Opening of Parliament. Also, I’m meeting my friend BC—she and I met during my trip to Morocco—for coffee tomorrow morning. And, finally, I’ve officially scheduled my final international sojourn during this trip: I’ll be going to the Netherlands (Amsterdam) from 13-16 May, and since I’m going by bus(!) I’ll have a chance to see the northern part of France and Belgium as well!

Amsterdam's Red Light District. [NB: This photo is not mine!]

Oh, yes, the next few weeks will be very exciting!

Windsor Castle (Part II): He's Not A Damned Alien; He's A Dead Body!

Back for part two of my trip to Windsor Castle…

After watching the Changing of the Guard ceremony, the group made a brief stop in the Middle Ward to admire the Round Tower, before heading down to the Lower Ward. At such time, we made our way into St George’s Chapel. 

The Lower Ward. St George's Chapel is on the right.

NB: This image is not mine!

ST GEORGE'S CHAPEL 

This beautiful place of worship was started by Edward IV in 1475, but not completed until the reign of Henry VIII. Within its walls are buried 10 monarchs—one day that number will be 11, as this is where Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, will be buried when she passes away. (She will likely be the last of the monarchs buried in the chapel, as space has become an issue.)

Now, being both a history geek and a fan of burial spots, you’ll forgive me (I hope) for droning on this entry. But I want to highlight some of the important figures buried here, as they have all changed the course of history in one way, shape, or form.

The first person I want to talk about was actually not a monarch. Princess Charlotte Augusta was the only (legitimate) child of the man who would become King George IV. She was also the only eligible heir to the Throne amongst George and his brothers. The public adored her, especially since her grandfather (King George III) was quite mad, and her father and uncles were despised for their hard-partying and lavish, irresponsible spending habits! Charlotte was seen as a breath of fresh air, and there was great hope for her reign. Sadly, at the age of 21, she died due to complications from childbirth. The baby was stillborn. 

This threw the Royal Family into a state of panic! George IV was in poor health and, due to the long life of their father, he and his brothers were all getting old—and, suddenly, there was no heir to the Throne in the next generation. The king and his brothers engaged in a frenzied push to produce a new one, and eventually one of George’s younger brothers had a daughter…England’s future Queen, Victoria. One of the most famous rulers in history almost wasn’t.

It has been said that the public mourning for Charlotte was akin to that which was seen when Diana, Princess of Wales, died. Charlotte's memorial in St George’s (#4 on the map above) reflects that love, and depicts her ascent into Heaven with angels at her side (one of whom holds her baby). 

Sadly, because you aren’t supposed to take photos in St George’s (meaning I had to be underhanded about it—literally), I wasn’t able to get a clear photo.

What it looks like in-full. [NB: This image is not mine!]

 Almost directly across from Princess Charlotte’s memorial (#5 on the map) is an above-ground vault containing the remains of Queen Elizabeth II’s grandparents, King George V and Queen Mary. 

These two fascinate me, and they were the main ones whose tomb I wanted to see this time around (when I was here before, I hardly knew anything about them). I’ll have more to say about them later—when I discuss George’s younger brother, ‘Eddy’ (Prince Albert Victor), I will addresses one of the things I find specifically fascinating about this royal couple—but for now I just want to make mention of other things.

Regarding George V, we have him to thank for the Royal Family’s current surname. Past names—like Tudor, Stuart, and Plantagenet—are well known in popular history. But the name given to Queen Victoria’s descendants (by way of her husband, Prince Albert) was less enduring: House Saxe-Cobourg and Gotha. 

During World War, I the family name became a propaganda tool, when figures such as H.G. Wells criticized the Royal Family for its Germanic name. Wells even went so far as to call the Royal Court ‘alien [i.e., German] and uninspiring’. In response, George (allegedly) declared, ‘I may be uninspiring, but I’ll be damned if I’m an alien!’ 

To waylay such criticisms, the decision was made to change the Family’s surname to something undeniably British: Windsor. (During Queen Elizabeth II's reign, the name has changed again, becoming Mountbatten-Windsor, to reflect her husband's family.) 

King GeorgeV and Queen Mary. [NB: This image is not mine!]

 Queen Mary is a bit more interesting in my opinion. Terribly shy and reserved, she was nonetheless a pillar of strength and resolve when need-be. Anecdotally, this can be seen in her quest to return Family heirlooms that were sold off by George IV and his brothers to support their out of control spending habits. 

It has been said that when May (as her family called her) would find an object once belonging to the Royal Family, she would…suggest quite directly that it should be returned. It didn’t matter to her who was in possession of the object at the time—what mattered to her was that it was an important piece of history that should never have left the Family’s possession in the first place. After making her not-so-subtle demand, the Queen would then sit down, and not get up again until the object was being packed-up for its return (making polite small-talk the entire time, no matter how uncomfortable those around her were). Thus, people would hide these valued possessions if they knew she was coming. 

Something else worth noting about Queen Mary is that we have her to thank for the current model of Royal duties. Never one to be inactive, the queen paid daily visits to various galleries and museums throughout most of her life. However, during the First and Second World Wars, this constant need to be ‘doing’ transitioned into daily visits to hospitals and areas that had been devastated by attacks. In addition, she and her Ladies-in-Waiting were constantly organizing clothes- and food-drives to help those who were in need. Undoubtedly, the current Queen (Elizabeth II) was greatly influenced by her grandmother’s seemingly inexhaustible commitment to service, and has modeled her own actions after Mary’s.

Architecturally, I want to note one thing about King George and Queen Mary’s tomb. The King died in 1936, and the effigy of him was sculpted around the same time. But Mary was aware that the women in her line tended to live long lives, and she wanted her own effigy to be both accurate and of an age corresponding to her husband’s. Thus, she ordered the sculpting of her cenotaph at the same time as George’s, so their representations in death would look as they had in life at the time of his passing. 

(For the record, Queen Mary died in 1953, almost twenty years later. May lived to see her eldest son’s elevation to Kinghood and subsequent abdication, her second son’s elevation to Kinghood and subsequent coronation, and her granddaughter’s elevation to Queenhood. She died 10 weeks before Queen Elizabeth’s coronation, but left instructions that the ceremony should proceed as-planned. It did.)

One of my favorite photos: Queen Elizabeth II, Queen Mary, and the Queen Mother at the funeral service for King George VI. [NB: This image is not mine!]

Down the way from King George and Queen Mary, and off to the side (#6 on the map) is a small chapel. It is here that Queen Elizabeth II will be buried one day, alongside her parents—King George VI and Queen Elizabeth (the Queen Mother)—and younger sister. 

Similar to Queen Victoria, George VI is a monarch that almost wasn’t. His older brother, who was proclaimed King Edward VIII upon their father’s death, abdicated before his coronation so that he could marry an American divorcee named Wallis Simpson. His brother's choice of love over duty (thankfully) thrust the shy, stammering ‘Berty’ (as the family called him) into the unexpected role of King. I really don’t have much to say about him, as it’s his wife that I find far more interesting.

The Queen Mother, as she became known upon her daughter’s ascension to the Throne—her proper title would have been ‘Elizabeth, Queen Dowager,’ but it was thought that title was too close to her daughter’s and would cause confusion—lived to be over 100 years old. Like her mother-in-law, Queen Mary, the Queen Mum was constantly on-the-go, and she was a force to be reckoned with. 

The Queen Mother was famous, among other reasons, for refusing to leave her husband’s side during World War II, even though it meant living under the constant threat of attack—she even trained with and carried a gun during this time, so that she could defend herself and her family in the event of an invasion. It is said that Hitler referred to her as the most dangerous woman in Europe. Whether or not that’s true, it’s an interesting anecdote. 

King George and Queen Elizabeth survey damage to Buckingham Palace following a bombing that barely missed them. [NB: This image is not mine!]

Another story about the Queen Mum that delights me to no end goes as follows: following a gala one evening, she was talking to the playwright Noel Coward. She noticed Coward occasionally making eyes at some nearby soldiers posted along a staircase, and whispered, ‘I wouldn’t if I were you, Noel; they count them before the put them out.’ 

(If you find yourself questioning the plausibility of such a public acknowledgement of Coward’s sexuality, I add the following: it is rumored that he carried on a long affair with the Queen Mum’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Kent, which certain members of the family knew about.) 

Yet another witty comment attributed to the Queen Mum in this vein was her rebuttal to a Minister that suggested the Royal Family not employ gay men: ‘We’d have to go self-service.’ 

All-in-all, a fascinating and hilarious woman.

Sadly, for the rest of these I wasn’t able to get photos—there were just too many officials around, and I didn’t want to get kicked out. Nonetheless, numbers 13 and 14 on the map above mark the spots where more ‘big names’ are buried: King Henry VIII and his wife Jane Seymour, and Kings Charles I (don’t worry—they sewed his head back on), Georges III and IV, and William IV. King Edward IV is buried at #8 and Henry VI is at #22.  

Queen Victoria’s successors (and the current Queen’s great-grandparents), King Edward VII and his wife Queen Alexandra, are at #23. I am especially said that I didn’t get an image of their tomb, as Queen Alexandra is another interesting figure. 

 

King Edward and Queen Alexandra. [NB: This image is not mine!]

NB: This image is not mine!

The last notable burial (in the Albert Memorial Chapel, not seen on the map) I want to discuss is Prince Albert Victor of Clarence and Avondale. The eldest child of King Edward and Queen Alexandra, he should have succeeded his father as England’s king. Instead, he preceded his father (and grandmother) in death, leading to George V’s eventual ascension. 

What I find intriguing about the prince is that, prior to his death, he was engaged to Mary of Teck—the woman who would marry his brother, George, less than a year later. In part, this union was made at the urging of their families. Adding to the awkwardness (and as mentioned already), King George and Queen Mary were both terribly shy. However, they bonded over their mutual love for the deceased prince—though this wasn’t the only factor—and, over time, they grew to love and cherish each other in the same way. (Their affection for one another was always expressed through letters, as their shared shyness prevented them from communicating their love directly). 

Engagement Photo of Prince Albert Victor and May. [NB: This image is not mine!]

Engagement Photo of Prince George and May, less than a year later. [NB: This image is not mine!]

All in all, it’s a terribly fascinating story and—as with Princess Charlotte—one cannot help but wonder how different things might have been had either of these heirs apparent not died.

One final note about St George’s Chapel: this is where the annual Ceremony of the Garter takes place, which is attended by The Queen and her Garter Knights. But more on that in a later entry…