THE QUEEN AT TEMPLE BAR
We had an exciting time, as the custom has always been that when the Lord Mayor receives the Sovereign at Temple Bar he should await his or her arrival at Child’s Bank, which is No. 1 Fleet Street. We accordingly went there with our family and particular friends, including my father and mother. My father’s ancestor, Sir Thomas Leigh, was Lord Mayor when Queen Elizabeth visited the city on her accession and presented it with the Pearl Sword; and two of my husband’s ancestors, Sir Francis Child and his son bearing the same name, who were Lords Mayor in the eighteenth century, are represented in their portraits at Osterley as holding this sword.
The Lord Mayor of the Diamond Jubilee, Sir George Faudel-Phillips, brought this same sword to the Bank and showed it to us, realising our special interest, as the representatives of both our families had had charge of the sword in bygone years, and were present to see it offered to Queen Victoria.
This ceremony took place exactly opposite the Bank, and was certainly a trying one for the Lord Mayor, as he had to offer the sword to her Majesty, receive it back, and then in his flowing robes leap to his horse and still bearing the weapon ride before her carriage to St. Paul’s.
It was impossible not to recall pictures of John Gilpin when one saw his mantle flying in the air, but I must say that Sir George displayed excellent horsemanship and carried through his part without a hitch.
I never saw the Queen more beaming than on this occasion, and no wonder, for she fully realised that the wild acclamations of the people came straight from their hearts. When we were again at Windsor in the following May I ventured to hope that Her Majesty had not been overtired. She said, “No—not on the day, but when the celebrations had gone on for a month she was rather tired.”
Rather an amusing incident occurred during the procession. Lady Northcote and her father, Lord Mount Stephen, were among our guests at the Bank. A few days previously Lady Northcote had met Lord Roberts, Sir Donald Stewart, and Sir Redvers Buller, and had said jokingly: “What is the good of knowing Field Marshals if they do not salute one on such an occasion?” As a result all three saluted her—Lord Roberts in particular was riding at the head of the Colonial and Asiatic troops on the little white Arab horse which he had ridden all through the Afghan War, and all the time when he was Commander-in-Chief in Madras and in India. The horse wore the Afghan medal and the Kandahar Star given him by Queen Victoria. When Lord Roberts was opposite Child’s, he duly reined his charger round and solemnly saluted. An evening paper gravely asserted that he had saluted the city and that it was “a fine thing finely done.” It was finely done, but the salute was to a lady, not to the city!
In the following year our eldest daughter Margaret married Lord Dynevor’s son, Walter Rice, and in 1899 our second daughter Mary married Lord Longford. These proved the happiest possible marriages, and our grandchildren as delightful as their parents. Both these weddings took place from 25 St. James’s Place by the extreme kindness of Lady Northcote, who provided the whole of the entertainments, including putting us all up for the two occasions.
My brother Rowland in 1898 married in America the daughter of General Gordon of Savannah, who was warmly welcomed in our family.
In March 1899 Lady Northcote and I had a short but delightful tour in Holland and Belgium.