The day was saved!

‘At 3.15 it started to rain - C.C. in the depths, bemoaning his ill fortune - the long-anticipated inspection of the garden would be out of the question. [. . .] 3.28 the bell rang - the Royal car rounded the corner of the yard - C.C. hastened to the bottom of the stairs as fast as his poor stiff muscles would allow. The Queen emerged, followed by the King and Princess Mary. Muriel and I stood at attention at the top of the stairs - C.C. presented us to his Royal visitors and then led them into the Drawing Room. At that moment the rain stopped miraculously and the sun began to shine. Laus Deo - the day was saved!’ This is Alan Campbell Don, newly-appointed secretary to Cosmo Lang, Archbishop of Canterbury (C.C.), writing in his diary about a day - 90 years ago exactly - when teh King and Queen made a private visit to the archbishop’s residence, Lambeth Palace.

Don was born in 1885 into a manufacturing Dundee family at Broughty Ferry, Scotland. He was educated at Rugby school and Magdalen College, Oxford, before studying for the ministry at Cuddesdon College. He was ordained priest in 1913, and the following year he married Muriel Gwenda McConnell, but it would not prove a happy marriage, and there were no children. He became curate in Redcar and then vicar at Norton-by-Malton, also in Yorkshire. For 10 years, starting in 1921, he was the Provost at St. Paul’s Cathedral Church, Dundee. 

A chance meeting in 1931 led Don to offer his services to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cosmo Gordon Lang. He was taken on as secretary, a position he retained through most of Lang’s tenure. Between the mid-1930s and mid-1940s, he was also chaplain to King George and to the Speaker of the House of Commons. From 1941 to 1946, he was both Canon of Westminster and rector at St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster. He was elevated to Dean of Westminster in 1946, remaining in that position until 1959 (a period which included the coronation of Queen Elizabeth); and he was knighted in 1948. He died in late 1963. Further biographical information is available from Wikipedia, The Peerage, or the Westminster Abbey website.

Don started keeping a diary on taking up his appointment as secretary to Lang in 1931, and he continued with regular entries through until 1946. The original diaries are now held in the Lambeth Palace Library. Not until last year (2020), however, were they edited by Robert Beaken and published by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge as Faithful Witness: The Confidential Diaries of Alan Don, Chaplain to the King, the Archbishop and the Speaker, 1931-1946. Some pages can be previewed at Googlebooks and Amazon.

The publisher says: [Don’s diaries] offer a wealth of detailed insight into the ecclesiastical, royal, and parliamentary affairs of Britain and her élite during two historically significant decades. They also open a window on the history of the Church of England and its role in the social, political and military upheavals of the 1930s and 40s as well as the lives of Alan Don and Archbishop Lang.’

Beaken, in his introduciton, adds: ‘As we read Don’s diaries, we are transported back to the world and culture of Britain in the 1930s and 1940s. In some ways, it all seems very remote and distant. In other ways, it is surprising how much remains recognizable eighty or ninety years later. In the pages of the diary, we closely observe Alan Don and Archbishop Lang - two very human men, with strengths and weaknesses, and much quiet kindness and decency - busily working away, endeavouring to do their best during some very difficult and often tragic years of British history.’

Here is an extract from Don’s diaries, one written 90 years ago this very day and only a short time after he had started work for the archbishop. His boss was all a fluster that day because the King and Queen had promised to come visiting!

19 July 1931

‘I celebrated at the Parish Church. A wet and windy morning. Muriel and I lunched alone with C.C. who was much put out by the vagaries of the weather in view of the fact that he was expecting a private visit from their Majesties. I rang up the Equerry in Waiting after lunch to enquire whether the King and Queen were coming - he knew nothing of the matter nor could he discover anyone in the Royal Household who did - no orders had been given and their Majesties were still engaged at luncheon. Had the Queen forgotten all about it?

Then to the relief of His Grace came a message at 2.40 that all was well - the Royal party would leave Buckingham Palace at 3.15. I warned Woodward, the porter, to be ready - Dowding, the butler, and the two footman threw open the front doors. I donned my frock coat and Muriel a hat. C.C. paced the corridor gazing at the clouds. At 3.15 it started to rain - C.C. in the depths, bemoaning his ill fortune - the long-anticipated inspection of the garden would be out of the question. What was he to do? Inspect the Crypt or what? Every door was unlocked in anticipation of a circular tour of the house. 3.25 came - it still rained in torrents. Had they started? “O dear me, oh dear me - how pitiable” was all that escaped the archiépiscopal lips. 3.28 the bell rang - the Royal car rounded the corner of the yard - C.C. hastened to the bottom of the stairs as fast as his poor stiff muscles would allow. The Queen emerged, followed by the King and Princess Mary. Muriel and I stood at attention at the top of the stairs - C.C. presented us to his Royal visitors and then led them into the Drawing Room. At that moment the rain stopped miraculously and the sun began to shine. Laus Deo - the day was saved!

So out they went through the Archbishop’s study, the King talking at the top of his voice - ‘What a small room,’ he shouted as he caught sight of the enormous study. Muriel and I listened in the passage upstairs to the royal banter and then watched the inspection of the garden from the window of the Bishops’ Smoking Room. The sun shone merrily and the Archbishop’s spirits rose - Budden the gardener was summoned from his lurking place behind the bushes and was introduced all round. An animated conversation ensued - Princess Mary took notes - the King gesticulated - the Queen asked questions. Budden was in his glory, spied upon by envious eyes from the Palace windows. C.C. finally led the party to the steps up to the Vestry and entered the House. A tour of the Chapel, Crypt and Library followed - the Visitors Book was signed - the royal car drew up at the front door and at 4.45 they moved off, passing en route Muriel holding ‘Nigel’ aloft and A.C. Don waving his top hat.

We joined C.C. at tea and congratulated him upon the delightful entertainment he had provided for us. It was great fun - and Their Majesties quite evidently enjoyed themselves too.

When, I wonder, did the King and Queen of England last pay a private visit to His Grace of Canterbury? C.C. is indeed in high favour.’