Bunting, beer and Blanco: In their own words – how Britons celebrated the Queen’s coronation

From lining Parliament Square as part of the procession to playing musical chairs at a street party, four people remember how they marked the start of this new era

It felt, for many, like the beginning of a new era.

When the Queen ascended to the throne on 6 February 1952, it was widely portrayed as the start of a new dawn for Great Britain. In a country still scarred by the horrors of the Second World War, this 25-year-old monarch suggested a brighter future: the second Elizabethan Age.

Her official coronation 16 months later on 2 June 1953, was held in just this spirit.

Some 8,251 guests from 129 different countries saw the new Queen Elizabeth II crowned at Westminster Abbey, while some estimates suggest 3 million people lined London’s streets to watch her arrive in a golden carriage.

But this was a celebration for the whole country too. Cities, towns and villages were decked out in flags and bunting. Countless street parties were thrown. Some 20 million people are estimated to have watched on TV. So keen were people to see the event, that there was a surge in new sets being sold.

The Queen and the royal family appear on the balcony of Buckingham Palace to mark the coronation (1953 AP)

But what was it like to live through such a moment of history?

Today, as the country prepares to mark the Queen’s platinum jubilee, four people tell The Independent how they marked that special day all those decades ago.

‘The girls in the crowd were shouting their numbers at us. A few liaisons started that way’

As a junior under officer with the army, John Landau – now aged 88 and living in Cheltenham – was among those lining the procession route in Parliament Square.

His unit stood for six hours saluting every head of state who went past as part of the ceremony.

John Landau fondly remembers saluting the various heads of states during the procession (John Landau)

It’s a long time to stand to attention, is six hours. And it’s even longer when it’s raining. We were in blue tunics and blue trousers with white belts which had been polished with Blanco – and it tipped it down so hard the Blanco started to run. But I was young – 19 – and far too excited to be much bothered about the weather.

We got up at 2.30am that morning and marched from Sandhurst to Camberley Station. We caught a train at 4am to Vauxhall and marched to Millbank, where we had a big cooked breakfast – bacon, eggs, that kind of thing. Then we got in position at Parliament Square for 8.30am.

Where I was stood was right in front of one of the Commonwealth stands, and it was filled with people from Australia and New Zealand, and they were all shouting at us. Jokes and insults – good natured stuff. They gave us a real barracking and all we could do was keep looking ahead. But the girls were also shouting their phone numbers. There were lads there who spent the day remembering them and called them afterwards. A few liaisons started that way, I believe. Not me, I should add.

I remember the Queen going past. She looked radiant in that golden carriage. It was a sight to behold. My favourite of all the other heads of state was the queen of Tonga. She had the biggest smile I’d ever seen and was waving at everyone. She looked as excited as the rest of us felt.

Afterwards, we did the same journey – the same marching and trains – back to Sandhurst. I was shattered by the time we got back. We’d been up 20 hours. Sandhurst is usually pretty dry but the officers had made sure there was some cider in for us to have a drink. Well, some people had that, changed into civilian clothes and then headed back into London for a night out. I’m afraid I wasn’t one of them. I was ready for bed.

In July of that year, I was one of 220 who became commissioned officers and ever after we were known as the coronation year. Since 2017 we’ve marched every Remembrance Sunday, although, as I suppose one might expect, our numbers are getting smaller each year now. How funny: it seems hardly any time at all since that day when all our lives were ahead of us still.

‘There were people sleeping on every pavement in central London’

In the week before the Queen’s coronation, Anne Ashton, now 84, was on a school trip to Paris.

As their coach arrived in Dover just before dawn on 2 June, a decision was made to drive home – to Ashton-under-Lyne – via London so the children could see the capital’s bunting.

Anne Ashton remembers people sleeping on pavements to secure their spot to get a glimpse of the new Queen (Anne Ashton)

I was 15 and don’t think I’d ever seen so much colour in the streets. I was gobsmacked. There were swathes of flags everywhere. Once you got into London, there didn’t seem to be a building that didn’t have a Union Jack hanging from it.

But the thing I remember most was all the people asleep in sleeping bags. Thousands of them on every pavement, I suppose hoping to get a good position to see the Queen. It was still early but a few of them were already cooking breakfast on little stoves or drinking tea from flasks. Well, you can imagine for a teenager in the Fifties, that felt very exciting.

When we got home I had something to eat and then went straight round to my friend’s house with my younger brother, Colin, because she had a TV and we didn’t. Her whole family and some of her neighbours were there, all crowded round this little box in the corner. It was the first time I’d ever watched telly. The second time was a cup final a couple of years later.

The children had to sit on cushions on the floor. I remember we barely spoke. It was enthralling because, you know, we’d grown up in the shadow of World War Two – with rations and bomb craters – and all of a sudden here was this new Queen, not much older than us, in these colourful streets, and it seemed like a new beginning. And it was ours because we were young.

Afterwards, I went home and my mum had done a special tea. There was ham sandwiches and jelly. My dad had been working and he came home and had a wash and was asking all about it. My aunt came round too. She brought a trifle in a beautiful dish and, some years later, she gave that dish to me. I still have it to this day. I still make trifles in it now.

I’m going to my daughter’s during the coronation weekend so, all these years on, I’ll be the one taking a trifle in that same dish.

‘We bought a two-shilling periscope so we could see the Queen over the crowd. All we could see were other people’s periscopes’

Second World War veteran Mervyn Kersh was 28 years old and working as a trainee manager in a fashion shop in London in June 1953.

Now aged 97 and still living in the capital, he remembers that he and his brother went to the Mall on the day of the coronation to join the thousands lining the streets.

Mervyn Kersh remembers a sea of periscopes as people tried to spot the new monarch (Mervyn Kersh)

The thing that still stands out is the fella selling cardboard periscopes for a couple of shillings each. The idea was you could look into it and see the Queen over the crowds. Me and my brother thought that was a great idea so we bought one each.

Well, we got to the Mall and looked through them, and what could we see? Thousands of other people all holding these periscopes up above their heads. They were no good at all because everyone one in front of us had them too.

I’d missed VE celebrations eight years earlier because I was still in Europe and I was determined I wasn’t going to miss this. Why was I so keen? Because it was the start of a new era. The country was so poor after the war and this felt like its resurrection. I’d become a dad two months earlier and everyone was saying this was a new golden age, and that’s how it seemed to me. I was very happy.

I can’t remember too much about the procession. Just the periscopes and the crowds. I saw the Queen and her coach pass by but only just. The crowd was too big to get a good view. You could hardly move for it. But it was about being there. I wouldn’t have swapped it for anything. It was the atmosphere. I think we bought a flag to wave. I remember still having that when we got home later.

That evening, we went to my sister-in-law’s house to watch the re-run on TV. I remember us saying we saw more of what had happened on that little box than by being there.

I like the monarchy – I think it’s a system that adds stability to the country – and I’ve always like the Queen. I’m glad I was there for her coronation. She’s one of the last of her generation now, just like me I suppose. It’s coming to an end, the second Elizabethan Age, and it was golden, I think. I feel lucky to have lived through it.

‘Mum and dad bought a TV because they wanted to see history being made’

Such was the scale of interest in the coronation that it created a TV buying boom. Tens of thousands of sets were purchased by people in the run up to 2 June.

Among those that splashed out were the parents of Margaret Spencer, now 83, and from Bury.

Margaret Spencer’s family bought a TV so they could watch the event (Margaret Spencer)

If you saw that television today, you wouldn’t think much of it. It was a little black and white thing with a screen that was only about nine inches. But for a 14-year-old – it was a very exciting thing to suddenly have in the corner of your living room.

My mum and dad weren’t ardent royalists or anything but they didn’t want to miss something so historic. They wanted to be able to see all the pomp and ceremony, and the gold coach – although, of course, it could have been any colour and we wouldn’t have known the difference on our TV.

It was a wonderful day. A wonderful few weeks actually. The build-up was all very exciting. I remember I embroidered a plaque which I still have today.

We had friends and neighbours round to watch it all. There was beer for the men and sherry for the women, and dandelion and burdock for the children. I think Mum did sausage rolls.

Then afterwards we went to a party at the local Conservative Club. It was supposed to be a street party but it was raining so they moved everything inside. It was wonderful. There were balloon and flags, long trestle tables full of sandwiches and jelly. My mum won an enamel plate. It had a picture of the Queen on. She said she was thrilled but I don’t think she thought much it. She didn’t keep it long, put it that way.

There were games for the children: musical chairs and blindman’s buff. I remember wearing my best shoes, some white canvas sandals. I was very proud of those. I’d cleaned them the night before. It was a historic day. There was no excuse of not having clean shoes.

I imagine I’ll watch the jubilee this year but I don’t suppose I’ll be at a party. I go to an over-60s lunch club sometimes and there will be a little celebration there. That will be nice. It will be nice to remember it all with others who were alive back then too.