Passing Pageant

Radio Record, 9 December 1938, Page 28

Passing

Pageant

@hrixtntar in Englatd tradttiotal feaut mf #eace atd gooiiill _ tke tillatye cbutrrh tuith itx holly-Decken memx . . turkey . tle {ule Lug hlazitg higk . . . the Kittg' % tice frmm Sandringhatt 8 0^ read @cetnt Tane % Whristmas Alageattt today:

AX ny one hour ago I took a pencil and wrote | Passing Pageant at the top of this page. Then I stretched myself out on the grass in the warm sunshine and had a sleep. Now there’s a plane droning smoothly in the blue sky overhead ... the river’s singing a summer song beyond the trees... our little party has had its picnic lunch and is asleep, too. New Zealand summer, and nearly Christmas again. My mind drifts back to another December and another land. The byways of Kent will be brown with fallen leaves r now, just as they were last year. In the deep little hills near Tansbridge Priory the frost will be white and clear. A cool sharp wind will be sweeping up the English Channel and ruffling the grass on Beachy Head. ,

rg |F I had travelled half across the world merely to enjoy a real English

Christmas I’d have counted the experience more than worthwhile. You New Zealanders who are fair-weather travellers, don’t race away from England when November begins to scatter the leaves in Hyde Park! Stay a while longer and enjoy the last relic of’ Dickens’s England... @ real old-fashioned Christ-

mas, I don’t mean a Christmas dinner at the Savoy or the Dorchester, surrounded by Americans and expersive bands, _I mean a Christmas in the country, a Christmas with real English peoplethe kindly hospitable folk whose lives are bound up with the very soil of England.

THERE was a huge Christmas tree glittering with tinsel end coloured lights standing inside the entrance of Victoria Station . .. there were small children with their nannies being bundled into train compartments ... thera were schoolboys, very naive with their assumed nonchalance... there were mothers and fathers and luggage and porters. It was four o’clock on Christ-

mas Eve and everyone was leaving London and going into the country. Ye

vO T was nearly dark when I got out of the tram at Horshom. My host was waiting for me and we drove through the old towne into the cold, sharp air of Sussex. In Lower Beeding, at the Kittle store that ts also the post office, we stopped te send @ telegram. The old soul behind the counter had @ stiff, old-fashioned starched blouse and «@ black velwet ribbon round her throat. The shelwes of her little shop were decorated with holly leaves and four red candles burned in the tiny window. She wished us a merry Christmas.

HE house where I was to stay had been built in the seventeenth century. Its original roof of Horsham stone had been replaced by tiles, the stones having gone to make crazy paths across the frost-tinted lawns. Lights shone in the windows, a gay holly wreath hung beside the front door. After dinner we sat in the big panelled drawingroom, the old dog slept beside

the blazing fire, the wireless brought us something Christmassy and appropriate from London. ‘Last Christmas,’"’? said my hostess, ‘‘we were in New Zealand. Yes, on a eruise, and we spent Christmas Day in North Auckland. It seemed all wrong,

somehow, to be cating turkey under the trees with the sun beating down. It was the first time I had been out of England for Christmas-I think I like our cosy, cold-weather Christmases best.’’ x g* the breakfast table on Christmas morning I found a silver pencil, some handkerchiefs, a big box

of cigarettes... presents from my hosts. . Later in the morning we walked along the frosty road to the tiny church where tall and virginal lilies stood beside gleaming candles and _ holly wreaths. Everyone was there ... the squire and . his family, the old woman from the little store, my — host’s gardener and his five children, the local member cf Parliament, the two elderly spinsters from the Big House (there’s always a Big House and it’s always on a hill) and. a well-known colonel in startling checks that lookéd too horsey for words. a. a

: a . We sang with great heartiness all the good old Christmas hymns, the vicar preached a

by

Trevor

Lane

homely sermon about peace and goodwill and the fairness of the Christmas morn, and afterwards we stood about in the little churchyard and talked to a great number of people about nothing in particular. The only things that weren’t running true to type were the robins. I couldn’t see one anywhere, p" 4

Tf three o’clock was the . . King’s speech and, as I sat in that old, peaceful room listening to the Royal voice from Sandringham I thought for a moment how it was going out over thousands of miles of ocean and how New Zealand would be hearing it in the quiet hour before the dawn of a summer’s morning.

KK BEFORE dinner, which is the alpha-beta of an Englishman’s Christmas, we — drank Bome of the King’s Brew-a sherry glass of beer which is said to have been brewed by King Edward back in 1907. Each year in this household one bottle is brought out and drunk with ceremony on Christmas night. : Dinner was true to tradition. ‘An old mahogany table lighted by silver candelabra, a huge fire, an important-looking turkey, a pudding blue and bright

with brandy flames, champagne for toasts ... The King, Absent Friends, Prosperity in the Coming Year. A perfect Christmas Dayone that I’ll never forget. p’ a

¥ QN the morning of Boxing Day we were up bright and early and drove over the hills to Winchester. The little cathedral town, once the capital of England, was quiet, its High Street almost deserted. But the famous old eathedral was warm, and a wintry sun shone down through the tall windows. A little man in a shabby rusty-black suit offered to show us round. He was the most loquacious person I had met on my travels and he told us with great pride that he featured in H. V. Morton’s book, ‘‘In Search of England.’’ He knew Winchester Cathedral, though. He took us up a tortuous, winding staircase till we were standing above the nave-the longest cathedral nave in Kurope. Here he showed us the great beams that had been supporting the roof since the days ‘of Edward the Confessor. In the Gothic pillars we saw the holes made by Cromvwell’s

soldiers for the hooks they used to tether their horses. On the stone walls we saw the little marks made by Saxon workmen, Here were the tombs of Ethelred the Unready, Jane Austen, King Canute, the shrine of St. Swithin, ps

UNCH in the High Street meant a meal at a fascinating inn, Ye Hostel of Ye God Begot, one of the oldest buildings in England. "Way back in misty antiquity the site of the inn had been occupied by a small castle presented by King Alfred to his sister. Part of the present inn had been built wn the fourteenth century. We looked at the menu and the waitress said, ‘‘ You can ’ave pork ’n’ beans if you want ’em.’’ But we decided that roast beef and Yorkshire pudding were more suitable to the place and the occaoy

. On MADE even more famous by the Duchesses of Kent and Windsor, such dress designers as Paquin and Schiaparelli are already planning to open branches of their busi-

nesses in Sydney. The reason? The appointment of the Duke of Kent as Gover-nor-General of Australia. And, as his wife is the best-dressed member of the British Royal Family, these famous couturiers

will doubtless find Australian salons a profitable investment, al,

rN T IS no secret that George the Fifth was more than a little annoyed when he offered Australia his third son, the Duke of Gloucester, ag GovernorGeneral and Australia declined with thanks, :

But there’s been a lot of trouble brewing in the world since 1935, with the Italians showing their muscles in the Mediterranean, the Germans down the Danube and the Japanese over-running the Far East, There was never a time when Empire bonds needed to be cemented more firmly, and this cementing

process was accelerated when the King was pleased to appoint his brother, the Duke of Kent, to come out to Australia and take over the job that George the Fifth couldn’t get for the . Duke of Gloucester,

K JN TERVIEWED in. London, George Garcia, Australian head of "Aspro, the firm which

selts enough tablets in Europe every year to banish half-a-billion headaches, said: "‘T am elated. Australia has always been keen on the Royal Family. We want a governorgeneral from outside the Commonwealth who can make unprejudiced decisions. The ‘Duchess will appeal to Australians because she is beautiful and chie and she is a mother."’ aie

rN [t is quite obvious that Neville Chamberlain, in an endeavour to bring the Empire back into the closest harmony, is preparing to play every card, and the British Royal Family is featuring very largely in his scheme, "abe

aad WHILE the Kents are prearing to leave for Australia (and possibly run across to New Zealand for our Centennial celebra-’ tions), the Gloucesters have just returned from British Africa. The King and Queen cross the Atlantic soon on a tour of Canada and a goodwill visit to the United States. Being trained to do Royal curtsies are the quintuplets, who will be presented to Their Majes-

ties. You’ll remember that these five little girls are the King’s wards. The cables this week say that the Windsors met Neville Chamberlain ’ in Paris the other week and it is probable that they will be part of the big Christmas party at Sandringham. .