Hi Neal,I don't know about Queen Elizabeth 11 of England and the 1st of Scotland being "my Queen" though I am certainly her subject. I don't think she would be very pleased at being called "my Queen". After all, under feudal fiefdoms, the principle is that I, as a villain am owned by her most gracious majesty...and not the other way round...though it would be nice to have ones own queen. I wonder if it would be better to call her Queenie or Queen Liz, and treat her like my personal friend. Funnily enough, it wasn't until the U.K. joined Europe that I rose to become a citizen. The last time that happened was when England...and part of Scotland were under the Romans, way back in 45 A.D.
When I was President of the Students Union at the college where I studied, Her Majesty came to open a new shopping centre at Ealing Broadway in West London. As President, I received an invitation to attend the opening and meet her in person, but I declined, saying that I was otherwise engaged, and the deputy President went instead, because he had never met a real Queen before and really wanted to see her. He just couldn't believe his luck and couldn't understand why I had declined the invitation. The Queen of course, never knew anything about it, leaving such minor considerations of who should be invited to see her, to one of her minions.
I did however, see the Queen once, when she was leaving Windsor Castle by the back route, presumably on her way to Buckingham Palace after a nice weekend. It was a Monday morning, some time in the early 1970's and at Datchet, near Windsor, there was a one of those railway level crossings over the road. As I approached, the gates came down and the lights started flashing and the bells started ringing and I had to stop. Whilst I was sitting there waiting, I noticed a familiar Rolls Royce, it looked rather like a hearse, sitting on the other side of the crossing, but I didn't pay much attention. it was only when the gates opened and our two cars crossed paths, that I realised it was the Queen of England, sitting in the back of the car, all on her little ownio. She was dressed up to the nines, must have been going to some important engagement. Our eyes met for a moment, but there was no sign of recognition, or acknowledgement of each others existence by either of us, and we went on our merry way. Funny how life presents us with such situations, completely random...and it just goes to show, that even our most senior citizen is at the behest of British Railways, rather than it stopping to allow her free passage. If I were King, I wouldn't allow such a thing to happen. Just goes to show how this country is going to the dogs, all this democracy and constitutional monarchy stuff, demeans the royal presence and undermines her sovereign power. It all goes back to the Magna Carta of course, way back in 1215 or whenever it was. The monarch made a big mistake giving the feudal barons all those human rights, in my opinion.
My grandmother was an English Lady, she came from Durham, and spoke with a beautiful accent and had wonderful mastery of the English language. She was very religious, very well educated and never touched a drop of alcohol in her life. She was a founder member of the Faith Mission, a religious sect which was set up to civilise the poor black Africans, and give them a good Christian religion instead of all the heathen stuff which they suffered in their own countries. Her family were very rich, owning a whole chain of shops around Durham. She fell in love with my grandfather, who was a coal miner, and then a moulder, until he hurt his back at 50 and had to retire. He was very fond of the drink, and they never had two pennies to rub together, on account of my grandmothers' side of the family disowning her when they found out she was going to marry a Scot, a Freemason, and a miner to boot. One should never marry outside one's class.
When they did get married, the tradition was that he, my grandfather, brought a dowry to the marriage and this dowry was kept by his mother. On the day of the marriage, his mother never turned up and when he went to find out why, he found that the dowry had been spent by his mother, and she was too embarrassed and frightened to come to the wedding. He never spoke to her again, for over 50 years whilst she lived in the village. I knew her too, went to visit her a couple of times when she was in her 90's, she lived to be 100. My grandfather told me the most amazing stories about the First World War, he fought in the trenches at Ypres and at Constantinople. He was a trench mortar instructor and reckoned that he could get 13 mortars in the air before the first one landed. Another story he told me was that there was a farm in the middle of no mans land, and every morning at 6 a.m. a cockerel crowed, waking every one up. He and a couple of mates got so fed up with being woken up and were so hungry that they crept out of their trench early one morning and grabbed the cockerel, strangled it and had it for breakfast and lunch the following day. All the troops were wondering why the cockerel no longer went cock a doodle do! I could never work out whether he was having me on, or if it were a true story...but there you are...I have always been a sucker for a story and give everyone the benefit of the doubt...gullible is my middle name...:-).
ATB Dougie. On 01/07/14 20:18, Neal Lamb wrote:
Dougie,There is a family rumor that my grandfather, John Lamb(Brechin) new your Queen.He certainly knew my grandmother Lois Lamb nee Williams(Wales).Us grandchildren grew up with a grandmother who spoke the english language with a lovely accent. Our only complaint was how she over cooked the roast beef on Sunday dinners,but her yorkshire pudding was the best and her gravy's.