Toby Harris – 2022 Tribute to HM Queen Elizabeth II (Baron Harris of Haringey)
The tribute made by Toby Harris, Baron Harris of Haringey, in the House of Lords on 10 September 2022.
There have been many fine tributes and I am sure that there will be many more from all corners of the House. That reflects the way in which we have all been touched by the life of Her Majesty the late Queen. We have all suffered a loss but, until Thursday evening, I had not appreciated how much of a loss was felt around the world. I happened to be in Rotterdam at an international conference and I noted the number of delegates from all corners of the world who came up to express their condolences, in a way that reflected the fact that they recognised that, for someone from this country, this was a personal loss, like that of a family member. But, as they spoke, they also talked about their own sense of loss, because the Queen touched all of their lives, all around the world.
Continuity and permanence were part of what it was all about—the noble Baroness mentioned the words of President Macron. So what do we all remember about Her late Majesty? First, there are those acts of unsung kindness, such as the daffodils delivered, without any publicity, to hospital staff rooms during Covid.
Above all, I think that we most remember that mischievous twinkle. Theresa May has probably stolen the market with her anecdote about the cheese, but I too have a cheese anecdote, although it happened not to me but to a senior police officer, who found himself sitting next to the Queen at a small dinner at Sandringham. As is often the case, towards the end of the meal, a very large Stilton slowly circulated around the guests. In it was a spoon, with which you were supposed to dig in and that was your portion. So he dug in, but he could not detach the Stilton from the spoon. He tried more and more forcefully, until it flew off, and he decided that he would give up and pass the Stilton on. It reached the Queen and, looking him firmly in the eye, she dug the spoon in and then demonstrated that, when you pressed a little button on the side of it, the Stilton dropped out. That twinkle remained with him for ever.
We have all had our experiences and I think that we should limit ourselves to two anecdotes a speech at most. My personal anecdote is about when I was a council leader and, at the request of the children, the Queen came to a primary school in my borough. She had visited around 30 years before, when the school was reopened after it had been bombed in the Second World War. But it then suffered a fire and, when work on it was completed, the children wrote to the palace. I am very touched that she decided to visit. I was just a bystander, watching the way in which she arrived, engaged and so on. Of course, the children made presentations: first they gave a bunch of flowers, then there was a concert and then the Queen was presented with a papier-mâché crown, the best description of which would be of the exuberance with which it had clearly been put together. The twinkle with which the Queen received it, thanked the children and then spent far longer than her attendants had expected talking to and playing with the children was remarkable.
Several people have asked how we will, or should, remember Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. A number of noble Lords have talked about “Elizabeth the Great” or “Elizabeth the Good”. There are other suggestions and one I particularly like is “Elizabeth the Dutiful”. But for me and, I suspect, for many other people, it will be as the Queen with the mischievous twinkle—not just for us but particularly for the children.
