My older Canadian friends will take the reason for this post immediately I’m sure, as will a few others.
However for those who may not quite get it, or those in the know who want to relive the old days, left click on the photo above.
The word for May 23rd is: Dominion /dəˈminyən/: [noun] 1.1 Sovereignty or control. 1.2 The territory of a sovereign or government. Middle English: via Old French from medieval Latin dominio(n- ), from Latin dominium, from dominus ‘lord, master’.
I mentioned to a younger friend (which at this stage could be pretty much any of my friends) that Victoria Day weekend was coming up. They looked genuinely puzzled. I started to explain than thought it best to refer her to a post I wrote in 2007. She thought it was all very quaint. I guess maybe it is but being an old dog in my mind it still bears the name of Victoria Saxe-Cobourg and Gotha.
There was a time in this fair land when Victoria Day – the 24th of May – was a big celebration – at least in English Canada. We celebrated the reigning Monarch’s birthday, commemorated Queen Victoria’s birthday, cried hip-hooray for the British Empire and trumpeted our British heritage. It was all very WASP, all very jingoistic. A celebration of an Empire that was fading away.
On the Saturday cottages were opened for the summer and preparations made for the weekends events. On Sunday, after a suitably solemn service of Morning Prayer with special anthem, family and friends gathered for the first picnic of the year. We proudly strung Union Jacks and Red Ensigns from house to tree, ate our hot dogs (though my mother frowned on that – you never knew what they put in those things!), drank our lemonade and when it finally got dark lit our fireworks. The…
When I was growing up – as opposed to growing old – the 24th of May holiday weekend was a major cause for celebration. It was known as Victoria Day because May 24th was the day that Alexandrina Victoria, future Queen of the United Kingdom and Ireland, Empress of India, was born in 1815. And it was celebrated as such in Her Majesty’s loyal Dominion and after her death became a day of remembrance of the old Queen. Since 1952 it has served double duty as Victoria Day and as the official birthday of our reigning monarch.
A left click on the picture of a Victoria Day celebration in 1949 (?) will take you to a bit of a ramble on Victoria Days passed.
In our neighbourhood it was a day for celebration, the first family picnic of the summer, community events, parades, and usually fireworks to end the day. It was a bigger to-do than the first of July, Dominion Day, in most communities. But things have – as they will do – changed over the past twenty odd years. For most people Queen Victoria means a period soap opera on PBS and the birthday our current Queen is largely forgotten in the hectic exodus to cottage country or the floral frenzy at the local garden centre. It is now a holiday for beer, bbq, bugs, and blooms.
And though we are indeed heading to the country for a barbecue today I would still like to salute the Old Queen – oh stop it! You know what I mean! – with a few clips of her that show she did have her lighter side:
And in deference to the horsey tastes of our own beloved Queen I offer this running of a traditional derby – a fine way to celebrate her birthday:
Queen Victoria (Charles Léandre, Le Rire, June 12, 1897)
In the middle of the last century when I was a wee Willy – oh grow up the lot of you!!!! – today was known as Victoria Day and we celebrated the birthday of a Queen who had been dead for over 50 years. But as I wrote previously it was a time to assert our “Britishness” – to fly our Union Jacks and show that we were loyal Monarchists through and through. In 1953 – after the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth – it became the official day for observing the Queen’s Birthday (though her birthday is actually April 21), up until then the Monarch’s birthday had been a bit of a movable feast. Now 50 years later it seems to be a day that has lost any Royal significance and has become better known as the “Let’s Open the Cottage” weekend.
Back in 1951 as well as Victoria Day we had another occasion to show how true, blue and loyal we were and show it we did. The young Princess Elizabeth and her husband came to Canada for a visit in October of that year. For 33 days she toured Canada and included in that trip was a 48-km ride through the streets and boroughs of the Queen’s City – Toronto. As I recall we were given the day off school and little union jacks, red ensigns and buttons that proclaimed our welcome to the Princess and her Prince were distributed.
A few days ago while going through a drawer I came across two of those small buttons – long forgotten souvenirs of a childhood memory. In all probability my mother had kept them and when I was cleaning out her apartment I found them and as now so then memories were revived and I put them away as a memento of an era that even in 1996 had been long past. An era when like the young Princess we looked forward to the last half of the 20th century with optimisms and high expectations.
This image is much larger than the buttons we were given in 1951
– the actual button is about 1 1/2 inches across – the 25 year old Princess would have
had to have remarkable eyesight to see this Welcome on my lapel.
Ah well when you are 5 years old its the thought that counts.
Of course I don’t remember the exact date or really the details but because it was October we must have dressed warmly for the trek up to the Queen Elizabeth Highway. A 10 minute walk from our hose the QEW was the major highway (4 lanes! can you believe it?); it had been named after the Princess’s mother and dedicated on the Royal Visit in 1939. I do remember that my mother and father took Teresa – our next door neighbour and my best friend – and I up to join the crowd that lined the road – our whole neighbourhood was there. We were all waiting to greet the Princess – flags at the ready, buttons proudly displayed and hearts primed to show our future monarch how much we loved her and her Prince. The motorcade moved passed us – we waved and cheered and behind the glass a small figure acknowledged us with a smile and a wave. It was a fleeting moment but I knew then as I am as sure 51 years later that she waved and smiled right at me!
Some Facts and Figures from that 1951 Royal Visit
During her 33 days in Canada Princess Elizabeth:
Shook hands at the rate of 30,00 times per week.
Heard the national anthem played 150 times.
Met 53 mayors.
Inspected 24 guards of honour.
Accepted official bouquets from 23 little girls.
Signed 21 golden books.
And survived it all to become Queen and reign for over 60 years. That is one incredibly strong woman!
(Source: Pierre Berton, The Royal Family, 1954)
21 May – 1502: The island of Saint Helena is discovered by the Portuguese explorer João da Nova.
There was a time in this fair land when Victoria Day – the 24th of May – was a big celebration – at least in English Canada. We celebrated the reigning Monarch’s birthday, commemorated Queen Victoria’s birthday, cried hip-hooray for the British Empire and trumpeted our British heritage. It was all very WASP, all very jingoistic. A celebration of an Empire that was fading away.
On the Saturday cottages were opened for the summer and preparations made for the weekends events. On Sunday, after a suitably solemn service of Morning Prayer with special anthem, family and friends gathered for the first picnic of the year. We proudly strung Union Jacks and Red Ensigns from house to tree, ate our hot dogs (though my mother frowned on that – you never knew what they put in those things!), drank our lemonade and when it finally got dark lit our fireworks. The Burning School House was a great favorite but I particularly loved the fairy light fascination of the sparklers – shades of things to come?
My brother Al, in his scout uniform.
On the Monday a street parade formed up at Horner Public School and marched the four blocks over to the Alderwood Community Park. Lead by the local scout troop (my brother (left) proudly carrying the Union Jack), The Maple Leaf Forever blaring from a tinny speaker mounted on an old Ford pick-up, the Girl Guides giggling and waving their Union Jacks, followed by a throng of costumed kids with decorated bikes, trikes and wagons. The rearguard was brought up by the Alderwood Volunteer Fire Brigade truck the blast of its horn scaring the smaller kids who were lagging behind.
There were prizes for the best decorated bike – guaranteed if you used Union Jacks, a picture of the King or Queen or red, white and blue streamers you’d win some sort of prize. There was a prayer from the local Anglican minister asking a blessing on the Monarch and their loyal Dominion of Canada, speechs from our MPP and Alderman and God Save the Queen shrilly led by the public school choir and rousingly sung by one and all. Later that night was the “big” fireworks display – 15 or 20 rockets donated by the Hands Fireworks Co., some Catherine Wheels and more sparklers for all the kids.
Like the Empire we celebrated back then most of the May 24th traditions have faded away. It’s now just the first long weekend of the summer. This past few days people opened their cottages and there were BBQs and picnics, but there were no parades and I haven’t heard a single firework all evening. Sure there’s fireworks on Canada Day, July 1st but I always thought how lucky I was back then: I had two chances to burn that old schoolhouse.
I think the picture at the top of the page dates from 1949 and that fine looking pair of gentlemen at the left are my father Ab (Albert) and me (notice that damned tuft of hair again.) The lady behind us is my beloved Aunt Lil. Until the day she died she kept her Belfast accent and she was the only one who could get away with calling me Billy when I became an adult. The way she said it was musical.
Jerry and I get around. In 2011, we moved from the USA to Spain. We now live near Málaga. Jerry y yo nos movemos. En 2011, nos mudamos de EEUU a España. Ahora vivimos cerca de Málaga.
Telling the stories of the history of the port of Charlottetown and the marine heritage of Northumberland Strait on Canada's East Coast. Winner of the Heritage Award from the PEI Museum and Heritage Foundation and a Heritage Preservation Award from the City of Charlottetown
There was a time in this fair land when Victoria Day – the 24th of May – was a big celebration – at least in English Canada. We celebrated the reigning Monarch’s birthday, commemorated Queen Victoria’s birthday, cried hip-hooray for the British Empire and trumpeted our British heritage. It was all very WASP, all very jingoistic. A celebration of an Empire that was fading away.
Willy Or Won't He 