Some Beautiful and Not-So Beautiful Things...

On 29 May 2012, with my time abroad quickly drawing to a close, I decided to spend some time just wandering around central London—plus, I needed to find some sort of crown to wear to a Diamond Jubilee-themed tea party I had been invited to. Because I saw so much, but nothing really new (for the most part), what follows is basically just random snippets of interest.

Let’s start, as I did that day, with an early morning visit to Buckingham Palace. I had been alerted by EN to the fact that construction had begun on the decorations for the Diamond Jubilee concert. Even so, I was not quite prepared for the radical transformation that had taken place. 

Around the large Victoria Memorial, work had begun on a staging area, from whence performers such as Sir Tom Jones would eventually perform. Similarly, all around the circle, tiered stands had also been erected for those lucky few who had been able to secure tickets to the event. (I tried, but being a non-British citizen I was not able.)

Stage and Bleachers

From the palace, I made my way down the Mall and across St James’s Park—as I have done so often during my stay—and then over to Westminster Abbey by way of Horse Guards Road. I had hoped to find some sort of suitable crown in the gift shop there but, alas, no luck. 

Leaving Westminster, I walked by the Horse Guards Parade and on over to Trafalgar Square (with a brief stop-over at Heaven which, although not open, I wanted a photo of nonetheless). 

Continuing my walk, I swung by the National Portrait Gallery—I had wanted to check out their new exhibit on The Queen, which includes a holographic version of the picture seen below, but didn’t have time—and Leicester Square (where I got a picture taken with the blue M&M), before moving over to Piccadilly Circus and then Soho.

One of my favorite images of HM The Queen!

Do you suppose he's related to Aki T. Fish?

Aside from the usual interest in the Soho area, I specifically wanted to swing by Soho Square so I could finally take a photo of the bench dedicated to singer Kristy McColl. After being killed in a freak boating accident, McColl was memorialized in Soho Square owing to a song she wrote about the area. However, I’m familiar with her through the songs ‘Fairytale of New York’ and the awesomesauceyness that is ‘In These Shoes?’

From Soho Square I trekked onward to the ritzy Mayfair area, where I finally used the  Easter money Mom sent me to buy chocolate form Charbonnel et Walker, official chocolatiers to The Queen. It was delicious!!!

We Approve of Charbonnel et Walker Chocolate!

While there, it hit me: I would get my crown from the gift shop at Buckingham Palace! So, I circled back around—passing St James’s Palace en route—and visited the shop within The Queen’s Gallery. Sure enough, there was the perfect (toy) crown! Mission accomplished!

By now, it was getting lateish, and I had plans for that evening, so I headed home to drop off my stuff and shower, before turning around and heading back out. You see, my friend LD had agreed to cut my hair and add some red low-lights. The only problem: he lives all the way on the east end of London.

But, since I had to go out that way anyway, I decided to finally take a side-excursion to a place even further to the east that I hadn’t made it yet: Thamesmead, the filming location for ‘Beautiful Thing’! 

It took a bit of time, but I finally found the exact building and area where it was set. Unfortunately, I wasn’t comfortable staying too long—it was a highly sketchy and run-down area, and I was actually a bit afraid (something I hadn’t experienced at any other time or place whilst in London). This meant I wasn’t able to re-enact my favorite moment from the film, when Jaime and Ste slow-dance in the courtyard. Ah, well, at least I was there. 

The real thing...

The best still I could grab--with the amazing Linda Henry!

And I even took the 180 bus to get there, which was kind of a big deal only because of its connection to the film (i.e., Jaime and Ste take the 180 when they go to their first gay pub, the Gloucester).

After snagging those images, I set off for LD’s, where he proceeded to give my hair one final trim before the return home.

All Sorts of Easter Goodness...

Just a super-quick blurb about this past Easter weekend.

I’m still dealing with the residuals of my recent illness (seriously, WTF?), but it was Easter weekend and so some pretense of ‘doing something’ was in order.

Saturday morning (7 April) was cold, gray, and raining, but I forced myself out of bed relatively early nonetheless. This was so I could meet EN at nearby Stratford Center and get my eyebrows threaded—she found a place there that would do it for £2, which is a heck of a lot cheaper than what I paid before. 

Well, let me tell you: there’s a reason why it was so cheap! 

The first time I underwent this process it was a breeze…this time it was a hurricane. I seriously thought she had drawn blood on more than one occasion. I think in the future I’ll stick to my hot, albeit more expensive Middle Eastern stylist.

As an aside, it was also during this trip that I realized that the God-awful, red, twisted-metal thing that I can see from my kitchen window is actually part of the Olympic Park! (In other words, all those times I said I hadn’t seen any of the Olympic junk firsthand I was totally wrong!) 

The monstrosity is called the ‘ArcelorMittal Orbit Sculpture,’ and is the tallest sculpture in the UK—taller, even, than New York’s own Statue of Liberty…

But, seriously, isn’t this the most hideous thing you’ve ever seen?

The sculpture and stadium where the Olympics will be held. [NB: This image is not mine!]

At any rate, having de-caterpillared my eyebrows I headed back home and spent the rest of the afternoon attempting (and failing) to start on my final essays for my three UEL classes—as crazy as it is to believe, we only have one class session left, and then one week after that to work on our essays…and then the semester is over!!!

That night, I decided to reward my…lack of progress with another trip out. 

EN and I met up again in Soho, determined to have a night of fun and dancing. And we succeeded this time! We met at Village at around 10:30 PM, and didn’t leave until they closed—and most of that time was spent up on the ‘stage’ downstairs, jumping around like crazy people. 

(At one point we got down, but I was prompted to get back up by some random guy who told me I was a good dancer. I don’t know if he was just drunk, or if he meant it, but it gave me an ego boost and so I climbed back up—EN was right on my heels, LOL!)

Where it all goes down... (This photo was taken on a different day when I was in the gaybourhood.)

Sweaty dancing queens...in bad lighting...

As another aside: since the tube stops running at around midnight, after my nights out I’ve been frequently forced to take a bus (which everyone knows I hate). In particular, I take the 25 bus to get to my place on the eastside of London. 

I bring this up because some of my readers who are also my Facebook friends may recall that I posted a comment Saturday night/Sunday morning complaining that there’s always some form of drama on the bus on my way home. (In that particular instance it was three young, drunk, straight guys harassing a lesbian couple, and then everyone who tried to intervene.) 

So, I did a bit of research today…only to discover that “Route 25 from Ilford [basically where I live] to Oxford Circus [which is where Soho is] has been revealed as London's most dangerous bus route with 471 code red emergency calls…” Now, admittedly, this statistic is from 2006—but still…not overly comforting.

Moving on...

Despite the fact that I only had one beer Saturday night—far less than I’ve had any other time I’ve gone out during this trip—I didn’t wake up on Easter Sunday until almost 2 PM. I guess I was just depressed that the Easter Bunny couldn’t leave me his/her usual basket of goodies (though she did send me an e-basket with money which was greatly appreciated). 

Regardless, this meant that my day was pretty much over before it even began, because I needed to leave shortly thereafter to go to church.

Yes, church. (I’m not a total heathen…I just play one on TV and the interwebs.)

Since arriving in London, one of my goals has been to go to the Easter service at Westminster Abbey. Well, I made it! Fortunately, their main service for the day wasn’t until 6:30 PM, so my extra-long sleep didn’t totally mess up plans.

I arrived at around 5:45, and we were finally allowed into the abbey at around 6:15. I took an aisle seat to the right of the High Altar, in the area known as ‘Poet’s Corner’—near where Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip sat during Prince William and Catherine’s wedding service.

Eyebrows Threaded and Ready for Easter

[NB: Obviously, I was not at the wedding, nor is the image mine (other than the arrow and text).]

What I did not realize going in, and which came as a welcomed surprise, was that the official delivering the service was the brother of my friend AH. (I knew that AH’s brother was a reverend at Westminster, but I had no idea I would ever actually sit through a service delivered by him.) 

Another welcomed surprise was that the first song was ‘Jesus Christ is Risen Today.’ By itself this was not a surprise—it is, after all, a traditional Easter song—but this particular song is a favorite at my parents’ church, and so it made me feel somewhat connected to them to hear it. 

Also, while I’m on the subject of music at the service: I was standing near a woman whose voice was…well, bless her heart, I’m sure it sounded lovely to the good Lord’s ears. But, though off-key, it was also kind of sweet to mine because it reminded me of my paternal grandmother. My grandmother was the epitome of a good Christian woman (the real kind), and I have so many fond memories of standing beside her at Sheppard Park, listening to her joyfully warbling along with the hymns. 

So, in a way, the service not only reached me on a spiritual level, but it also made me feel more closely connected to my friends and family (both here on Earth and beyond). Aww…

Finally, I just want to share striking bit of text that was included in the service’s program. This excerpt comes from an Easter sermon attributed to St John Chrysostom (c. 347-407):

If any be lovers of God, let them rejoice in this beautiful, radiant Feast. If any be faithful servants let them gladly enter the joy of their Lord. If any have arrived only at the last minute let them not be ashamed because they have arrived so late. For the Master is gracious and welcomes the last no less than the first. Enter then, all of you, into the joy of your Master. First and last receive alike your reward. Rich and poor dance together. You have fasted in Lent and you who have not, rejoice together today. Come, all of you, to share in this banquet of faith; draw on the wealth of God’s mercy and love. Let no one lament their poverty; for the universal kingdom has been revealed. Let no one weep for their sins, for the light of forgiveness has risen from the grave. Let no one fear death; for the death of our Savior has set us free. He has destroyed death by undergoing death. He has despoiled hell by going into hell.

Though it may come across as a bit preachy, I share this bit of text because, for me, it encapsulates the true meaning of Christ’s teachings: love and forgiveness, regardless of your socioeconomic class or potential moral failings. In essence, none of that matters because we are all equal (meaning it is none of our places to judge another). 

This is the ideology behind my understanding and practice of Christianity, and it is this understanding which allows me to continue calling myself a Christian despite the fact that men like James Dobson and the Pope have tried to pervert what it means to be a Christian.

And so, I leave you with that happy thought—now, if anyone wants to send me some of their extra jellybeans and/or chocolate bunnies (even if you’ve already bitten off the ears), let me know and I’ll give you my address!

A Royal Success!

It finally happened today—I caught a glimpse of Queen Elizabeth II!

I have so much that I should be doing at the moment (on top of the post-holiday exhaustion I’m feeling) that I had pretty much scrapped the notion of trying to catch Her Majesty at Westminster Abbey today. But, at the last minute, I opted to go for it…

So, at about 2:00 PM I found myself standing once more outside of the Abbey. The occasion: the Commonwealth Observance, which

“is the annual celebration of the Commonwealth. The centre-piece of the day is a multi-faith service at Westminster Abbey organised by The Royal Commonwealth Society, on behalf of the Council of Commonwealth Societies.

The theme for this year is 'Connecting Cultures'. Through a mix of world music, dance and personal testimonies, the service will explore the golden threads that tie together people from every continent, faith and ethnicity.

In April 1949, Heads of State from Australia, Britain, Ceylon, India, New Zealand, Pakistan, South Africa, and the Canadian Secretary of State for External Affairs met in London and deliberated over six days. The outcome was the Declaration of London which gave birth to the modern Commonwealth. The origins of the Commonwealth stretch back much further than sixty years, but 1949 marks the pivotal point at which the Commonwealth's colonial legacy was positively transformed into a partnership based on equality, choice, and consensus. The organisation decided at a meeting in Canberra in 1976 that Commonwealth Day would be celebrated on the second Monday in March each year.” ~ Westminster Abbey Website

Somewhat unfortunately, the spot that I had—which in other respects was great—was right next to a bunch of Republicans who were protesting the monarchy. (Again, I get it—but at this particular moment I wanted to just enjoy being in the moment as an ‘outsider’ who doesn’t often get the chance to witness such pomp and circumstance.) Fortunately for the Royal Family, there seemed to be far more supporters than detractors in the ever-growing crowd.

Regardless, I enjoyed watching the representatives from the various Commonwealth nations arriving, many of whom were dressed in the traditional dress of their home-countries. 

And then the Royal Family began to trickle in…

The first to appear was Sophie, the Countess of Wessex.

I had no clue who she was at the time (and if you’re too lazy to click the link above, she’s the wife of Prince Edward, The Queen’s youngest son—she’s also supposedly the only one of The Queen’s daughters-in-law that she’s ever been especially close to). Despite not knowing who she was at the time, I loved her hat. I mean, fer realz, I need to gets me one of those!

I recognized the owner of the purple hat in the next limo immediately: Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall. She was sitting on ‘my’ side of the limo as it turned into the Abbey’s driveway, and she was staring out at the crowd—with the aid of her hat and a beaming smile, the duchess completely filled the window. 

In fact, Camilla so thoroughly caught my attention that I completely overlooked Prince Charles’ presence and assumed she had gone to the service alone. It wasn’t until I got home and reviewed the video I recorded more closely that I caught the Prince of Wales.

A couple more moments passed, and then the burgundy limo I only snagged a glimpse of the other day rolled past once more. 

This time I was looking right at The Queen, and she was smiling at the crowd (despite the protesters) as it turned into the drive. At that point, my view became somewhat obstructed owing to the support vehicles and police officers that followed her in—but, regardless, I did finally see Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh.

Before I close, there's just one thing that I want you to consider—something that struck me on the way back home afterwards: 

Setting aside for a moment the problematics surrounding the institution of the monarchy, and looking at the situation purely in terms of historical continuity, think about how many people in your life remember a world without Queen Elizabeth II upon the British Throne. 

Immediately, you’re forced to look at only those over the age of 60. And now reduce that again, to just those who are old enough to actually remember the reign of her father—now you’re talking about those between 65-70 and older.

Love the monarchy or hate it, the historical continuity afforded by Queen Elizabeth’s long reign is pretty impressive.

You Won't Care About Most of This but, Gurl Look At That Hair! (I'm Sexy and I Know It!)

Time for another quick break from the Paris narrative!

This morning, courtesy of Groupon and my wonderful mother, I went on another walking tour—and this one was a lot less gruesome than the Jack the Ripper tour from a few weeks back! 

The topic of this morning’s walkabout was Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee, and (as I’m sure you all know by now) I’m a sucker for this kind of stuff. There weren’t many details about what we would be looking at or where we were going, but participants were promised that it would highlight

the best, the worst, the most fascinating and the most worrying moments of the life of Queen Elizabeth II in honour of her Diamond Jubilee. We see where she was born, some memorable locations and some of her favourite places as well as discuss her successes and achievements during her long reign.  She has had her ups and her annus horribilis; she has seen changes more far-reaching than any monarch and has handled this with dignity and poise. (Coutours Website)

That was enough to rope me in, so off I went…

NB: Most of you will probably find this boring as all-get-out. Nic was actually laughing he was so bored. But it’s my blog and, damn it, I’ll write what I want to!

So, we met near the Bond Street tube station, which is a bit north of Buckingham Palace (near Soho, actually), and then proceeded to walk about ½ mile down Davies street. En route, we paused near Claridge’s, which Emma—our guide—informed us was home to various deposed and exiled (and just visiting) monarchs from other countries in the earlier part of the 20^th Century, particularly after World War I. 

NB: This photo is not mine!

Emma further explained that Claridge’s was/is the setting for most of the ‘thank you’ banquets hosted by visiting heads of state (following the banquets hosted by Her Majesty), because most embassies do not have adequate security for such functions.

Now, I don’t know how much I trust this little tidbit—if she had said it was because the embassies weren’t large enough to accommodate the large parties I might have been less skeptical. But security concerns? at the embassy? at a time where the head of the corresponding nation is visiting? Sounds sketchy to me…

 

At any rate, it was also while standing in front of Claridge’s that Emma began telling us about the current queen’s grandparents’ (King George V and Queen Mary) efforts to distance themselves from their Germanic links during the WWI era. Such efforts included dropping the family surname of ‘Saxe-Cobourg Gotha’ in favor of the more English-sounding ‘Windsor.’ Similarly, King George and Queen Mary largely did away with the old (German) matrimonial restrictions, which eventually allowed for their son—and England’s future king—Bertie to marry (then-)Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, (then-)Princess Elizabeth to marry PrincePhilip, and Prince William to marry Catherine 'Kate' Middleton. Finally, Emma told us a bit about King George and Queen Mary’s roles in setting the standard for present-day monarchical expectations.

(For the record, it was also around this time that she stopped over-explaining things to this li’l ol’ American, because I pointed out that I was in the midst of Pope-Hennessy’s ginormous biography of Queen Mary, and that I had already finished comparable ones for Queens Victoria and Alexandra and the Queen Mum.)

From Claridge’s, we continued down Davies until we hit Berkeley Square, and then we hung a left on to Bruton Street for our first ‘official’ stop: 17 Bruton Street.

Though the original home no longer stands (it was bombed during WWII), this Mayfair address is where Queen Elizabeth II was born on 21 April 1926. At the time of (then-)Princess Elizabeth’s birth via c-section, 17 Bruton Street belonged to her maternal grandparents. 

The street as seen in 1904. (NB: This is not my picture!)

Today it’s a nightclub and is next door to a Bentley dealership. But there is a plaque that marks the spot on the wall of said-club…it’s above the sectioned-off smokers section. *SMDH*

Now, a quick note about the pictures in this entry. Most of them are not mine, simply because there wasn’t too much worth snappin’ pix of. So, for illustrative purposes I’ve included a couple of corresponding images I found on the web. There you have it…

Moving on, quite literally across the street: the former shop of Norman Hartnell. Within the walls of this shop, Hartnell designed dresses for famous figures such as Merle Oberon, Marlene Dietrich, Elizabeth Taylor, and—most importantly for my purposes (excepting, maybe, Oberon)—the eventual Queen Mother, Princess Margaret, and Queen Elizabeth II. 

Perhaps the best-known of Hartnell’s designs was the wedding dress he created for Her Majesty:

NB: This photo is not mine!

 After discussing Her Majesty’s wedding for a bit, we continued on down Bruton Street and made our way over to the Royal Arcade on Old Bond Street, which houses the queen’s official chocolatier—complete with Royal Warrant above the register, Royal Seal affixed to the window, and the queen’s portrait above the preparation area. This was all by way of getting us to Bond Street proper. Now, I have to say: this is definitely another of those areas of town where I do not fit. I mean, fer realz. (Though the Louis Vuitton store—see here—sure was beautiful to look at!) Then it was a quick right onto Grafton and a left onto Albemarle.

It was on the corner of Grafton and Albemarle that we found Garrard & Co.’s jewelry shop. The significance of Garrard’s is that, for many years, they were responsible for the creation and maintenance of the Crown Jewels—including the iconic ‘little’ crown worn by Queen Victoria in so many images. 

(NB: This is not my photo!)

Unfortunately for them, they also seemed to have a knack for ticking off Queen Elizabeth II. (Or so-said our guide.) The first hiccup in their relationship was immediately following the wedding of Prince Charles and (then-)Lady Diana Spencer, when Garrard’s decided to sell exact replicas of Diana’s wedding ring—which they had the plans for because they had designed it. The next hiccup came when they hired Jade Jagger (Mick’s daughter) as their creative director, and she started steering the company in a different direction. And a third hiccup occurred when they hired Christina Aguilera as the ‘face’ of Garrad & Co. As a result, in 2007 a statement was released by Buckingham Palace that Garrad’s services were ‘no longer required’ and a new Crown Jeweler was announced. (Jagger was also fired shortly thereafter.) Ouch.

Leaving Garrad’s behind, we trekked over to St James’s Palace, followed by quick stops to Lancaster House, Clarence House, St James’s Park, and finally Westminster Abbey. Since I’ve talked about all of those places before—and didn’t really learn anything new here—I won’t go into any further details with those.

Other random things I saw today, however, included James Lock & Co., where the first Bowler Hat was created (but which you should order using the name ‘Coke Hat’ [pronounced ‘Cook’]); White’s, which is one of—if not the—oldest Gentlemen’s clubs in London, and which counts the Duke of Edinburgh and Prince Charles amongst its members (NB: there have only ever been two occasions whereupon a woman was allowed entrance to White’s—both times it was Queen Elizabeth, and she had to be granted permission by special vote.); Hunter Boots, the official boot makers of the Duke (and possibly the Queen too); the former site of Texas’ Embassy (from its brief time of independence—according to our guide, the king was still smarting over the American Revolution, and so he gladly threw his support behind Texas’ attempts at remaining independent…I sure as hell wish he’d fought harder!); and, in that same courtyard, supposedly the site of the very last duel fought in London.

Okay, I’m sure you’re all bored to tears by now. In fact, even I was a bit bored there toward the end of writing this out. But it really was fun, you’ll just have to take my word for it!

One final note: after leaving behind the tour, I made my way over to nearby Soho where I finally got mah hair and eyebrows did! YAY! Thank you, Youssef from Groovy Hair Salon, for being both within my price range and giving me a look that Nic has referred to as ‘brash and Euro!’

Westminster Abbey: A History

So, after a rather lengthy disagreement between my laptop and my camera that started on Monday, they’ve finally patched up their differences and allowed me to upload more recent photos and videos. Meaning I’m back with another update.

I spent Monday morning in my continued pursuit of housing. Alas, I remained unsuccessful. (Are we noticing a trend here?) Frustrated and feeling as if my time in London was being wasted by people who cannot be “bovvered” to respond to my inquiries, I decided to check-off one of the things on my “To Do” list: tour Westminster Abbey.

Now, the first thing I should say is this: you’re not actually allowed to take photos within the abbey; but, as Nic can attest, I tend to work around such signage by taking secret videos when no one’s looking. The way I see it, I’m not using the flash setting, so there’s no risk of damaging anything—plus, for the most part, they’re only shared between me and my pals. No harm, no foul. At any rate, that’s why some of what follows are videos, and the images are fairly grainy (they’re screen caps).

First and foremost, a bit of history on the abbey itself:

“Westminster Abbey is steeped in more than a thousand years of history. Benedictine monks first came to this site in the middle of the tenth century, establishing a tradition of daily worship which continues to this day.

The Abbey has been the coronation church since 1066 and is the final resting place of seventeen monarchs.

The present church, begun by Henry III in 1245, is one of the most important Gothic buildings in the country, with the medieval shrine of an Anglo-Saxon saint still at its heart.

A treasure house of paintings, stained glass, pavements, textiles and other artifacts, Westminster Abbey is also the place where some of the most significant people in the nation's history are buried or commemorated. Taken as a whole the tombs and memorials comprise the most significant single collection of monumental sculpture anywhere in the United Kingdom.” ~ Official Site for Westminster Abbey

 

Bein' all touristy...

Pretty neat, huh?

As noted by the quoted section above, there is a “significant” collection of monumental sculpture within the abbey. This is not surprising, considering there are over 3,000 people buried there, including the likes of Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Laurence Olivier, Rudyard Kipling, and Charles Dickens. 

Old Dickens was dead as a door-nail...

It’s practically impossible to be within the abbey walls without seeing and/or standing atop someone’s memorial!

But, for now, let’s look at some of the living, and then I’ll return to the dead people in a moment...

One of the things I was most eager to see was King Edward’s Chair (a.k.a. the Coronation Chair). This is the more well-known of two thrones the monarch occupies during the coronation ceremony. 

King Edward's Chair

The chair itself is has been used during every coronation ceremony since 1308, and once housed the Stone of Scone (the coronation seat for Scottish royalty). The fact that it looks a bit beat-up is not surprising, consider its age and the fact that for a long time it was not placed under lock-and-key as it is now—meaning the abbey’s students were able to carve their names and other sundry graffiti on its ancient surface.

It truly is a site to behold! And, one day—hopefully not for a very long time—Prince Charles will sit here, just as his mother did in 1953.

This image is NOT mine!

 

Another site from the abbey that some of you may recognize is the High Altar.

The High Altar...kind of.

Most recently, this was seen during the wedding ceremony of Prince William and the now-Duchess of Cambridge (nee: Catherine Middleton)

 Now, some interesting things to be pointed out here:

First, notice the two doors on either side of the altar. Near the end of the ceremony, the bride and groom exited through the door on the right, and then returned through the left-hand door a bit later. This was so they could sign the wedding register. What you may not know, however, is that on the other side of those doors is the tomb of Edward the Confessor, the man responsible for starting the abbey’s construction so long ago.

(Yes, that very hurried video is the one I captured of the room behind the High Altar. The structure at the top is the tomb itself, and in the alcoves beneath it visitors can pray.)

 

Secondly, the man seen behind the Duchess' father is the fellow who lead our tour of the abbey!

The guy who looks like he's asleep--yup, that was my tour guide.

Now, as I said earlier, I want to get back to some of the dead people buried at the abbey. (’Cause, let’s be honest, that’s the biggest reason why I went!)

There are slightly less than twenty monarch entombed within the abbey walls (though, most of the recent royals are buried on the grounds of Windsor Castle). Aside from Edward the Confessor, there is also:

·      Henry III (King of England died 1272)

·      Edward I (King of England died 1307)

·      Edward III (King of England died 1377)

·      Richard II (King of England died 1400)

·      Henry V (King of England died 1422)

·      Edward V (King of England died 1483)

·      Henry VII (King of England died 1509)

·      Edward VI (King of England and Ireland died 1553)

·      James I (King of Great Britain and Ireland died 1625)

·      Charles II (King of Great Britain and Ireland died 1685)

·      Mary II (Queen of Great Britain and Ireland died 1694)

·      William of Orange (King of Great Britain and Ireland died 1702)

·      Anne (Queen of Great Britain and Ireland died 1714)

·      George II (King of Great Britain and Ireland died 1760)

Now, as impressive as that list is (at least to geeks like me), there are actually three names that I’ve left off. Three very, very important names—and the main ones I went to see:

·      Mary I (Queen of England and Ireland died 1558)

·      Elizabeth I (Queen of England and Ireland died 1603)

·      Mary, Queen of Scots (Queen of Scotland died 1587)

Let’s start with the first two names: 

Queens Mary I and Elizabeth I were both daughters of the infamous King Henry VIII. And they didn’t see eye-to-eye on much, mostly because Mary was Catholic and the daughter of Henry’s first wife (Catherine of Aragon), whereas Elizabeth was Protestant and the daughter of Henry’s second wife (Anne Boleyn).

When Henry died, followed shortly thereafter by his only recognized son (Edward VI), Mary became queen—and promptly declared Protestantism illegal. And then slaughtered a bunch of non-Catholics, earning her the nickname “Bloody Mary.”

Well, eventually, Mary herself died, succumbing to cancer two or three years into her reign. At which point Elizabeth ascended to the throne. I don’t suppose I have to say too much about Elizabeth I here, as her history is fairly well-known.

What I did not know, and what I imagine others didn’t either, is that, after Elizabeth died, her successor (King James I of England and VI of Scotland) had Elizabeth buried alongside Mary at Westminster Abbey.

 Yes, they share the same grave. King James even affixed an inscription that reads: “Consorts in realm and tomb, here we sleep, Elizabeth and Mary, sisters, in hope of resurrection.”

Since the new King shared Elizabeth’s religious philosophy, the memorial atop the tomb is dedicated solely to Elizabeth I. There are no effigies dedicated to her elder sister.

An acknowledgment of those who lost their lives over their faith.

Morbid? Perhaps. But, I was there!

Across the way from Queens Mary and Elizabeth rests another Mary—Mary, Queen of Scots. While Elizabeth I was still on the throne, she was worried that her cousin, the Queen of Scotland—as next in line for succession—might make a move to usurp the crown. So, it was off with her head!

At first, Mary was not buried in Westminster. However, when her son—yup, you guessed it: King James I of England and VI of Scotland—took over, he had his mother’s body exhumed and brought to the abbey, where she was buried near her cousins, Mary I and Elizabeth I.

Pretty self-explanatory...

Again, I recognize the morbidity--but I was there!

Whew!

Well, that was exhausting to type all out, and I’m sure you’re exhausted from reading it all! I think I’ll close now. I ain’t bovvered, though.

Until next time…

PS: Yes, the King James I mentioned here-and-there is the one the Bible translation is named after.