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naturalness of Elizabeth’s behaviour in front of her Foreign Secretary and his wife. On<br />

one occasion when Philip was sounding off about something, Elizabeth said to him ‘quite<br />

sharply’, ‘Oh Philip, do shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ 10<br />

On the second day out of Bermuda a Force 9 gale came up. Britannia rocked and rolled<br />

in a welter of huge waves. Assembled for pre-dinner drinks the passengers speculated as<br />

to who would turn up. Elizabeth, it was believed, did not enjoy rough seas. She<br />

appeared, however,<br />

looking philosophical, almost merry, twenty yards of chiffon scarf flung over one shoulder. Half a pace<br />

behind her was her Consort, his face less fresh than usual, ashen and drawn, in fact. We didn’t spend long at<br />

table that evening, and soon after returning to the drawing-room for coffee, the Queen rose to say goodnight,<br />

resting one hand against the handle of the open sliding door which at that moment began sliding shut,<br />

Britannia having failed to take a breathing spell before heaving over again. The Queen gripped the handle<br />

firmly, pressed her back to the door and moved with it as it slid slowly shut, the chiffon scarf flying in the<br />

opposite direction. ‘Wheeeeee,’ said the Queen. Britannia shuddered, reeled again. The chiffon scarf flew the<br />

other way. ‘Wheeeeee,’ said the Queen. Britannia hesitated before the next heave. ‘Goodnight,’ said the<br />

Queen, slipping through the door, Prince Philip half a pace behind her… When we foregathered in the<br />

drawing-room before lunch, complexions were better than the evening before. ‘I have never seen so many<br />

grey and grim faces round a dinner table,’ said the Queen. She paused. ‘Philip was not at all well.’ She<br />

paused. ‘I’m glad to say.’ She giggled. I’d forgotten that her Consort is an Admiral of the Fleet. 11<br />

The heat in Philadelphia and Washington that July was appalling, the temperature<br />

hovering around 100° Fahrenheit at night and in the shade, the humidity suffocating.<br />

The schedule worked out between the royal household and the US authorities was<br />

punishing. In Washington it involved in one day an arrival ceremony on the White<br />

House lawn, a reception at the British Embassy for foreign heads of mission, a reception<br />

and a luncheon at the Capitol, followed by an inspection of the Magna Carta in the<br />

Rotunda, a visit to the Smithsonian Institution and an exhibition of London Treasures,<br />

and to the National Gallery for the ‘Eye of Jefferson’ exhibition, a presentation at the<br />

District Building, and a dinner and reception at the British Embassy for President and<br />

Mrs Ford. ‘The Queen never faltered in the day’s walkabout under a remorseless sun,<br />

crowds stretching their arms out to her,’ Susan Crosland wrote. On the Monday evening<br />

before the first day of the visit, the Queen had shown her how to stand for hours without<br />

tiring. ‘“One plants one’s feet like this,” said Her Majesty, hoisting skirt above ankles to<br />

demonstrate. “Always keep them parallel. Make sure your weight is evenly distributed.<br />

That’s all there is to it.”’<br />

State visits by the Queen have a glamour which no politician can rival, an intangible<br />

value which is symbolic rather than real, but valuable none the less. Elizabeth is very<br />

conscious of being the representative of the British people and ‘the condition of Britain’<br />

is something which concerns her deeply. Just occasionally, in the late 1970s when<br />

Britain seemed to be slipping into irreversible decline with the economy diving and<br />

unemployment rising, she let her preoccupations show in odd asides, usually when some<br />

visit with an historical context brought it home to her. On the German state visit of

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