Open Writing

Every time I hear the British national anthem I think of John Noble’s cat.

Long before I learned to sing God Save Our Gracious Queen, a village joker got to me.

This was in a tiny Yorkshire mining village, too long ago. A time when adults were usually shouting when they addressed children.

“Stop swinging on that gate!’’ “You can’t play football round hear.’’ “Don’t you know better than to throw stones?’’

The men of our village, most of them miners, used to gather on fine evenings to set the world to rights.

A gang of us village lads passed by the village “parliament’’ one day when there was a lull in the debate.

“Look who’s here then,’’ said Miner No 1. “Casey’s Court.’’

“The Bisto Kids,’’ said Miner No 2. “So what did you lot learn at school today?’’

“They don’t learn ‘em owt,’’ said Miner No 1. We were too young and innocent to notice the beginnings of a twinkle in his eye. “I bet they don’t even know the National Anthem. Come on young Hinchy, let’s hear you sing it.’’

“What’s the National Anthem?’’ said I.

“Told you,’’ said Miner No 1.

So they taught us what they said was the anthem

God save John Noble’s cat
Killed two mice and one rat
God save his cat..

When Miss Mercer, the village schoolmistress, finally taught us the true version, the words came as an anti-climax.

Mind you, as a loyal British subject, I have stood to attention many a hundred times while the approved version is played and sung.

Only rarely did I join the rush to get out of the back door of the Regal Cinema before the anthem concluded the show - and those rare occasions when to display loyalty would involve missing the last bus home.

When I wore Her Majesty’s Air Force blue I was taught how to properly stand to attention. National Service worked wonders for the back-bones of the nation’s youth.

But the words of our National Anthem do little to promote our image as a nation of poets. Take for example the second verse.

“O Lord our God arise, scatter her enemies, and make them fall. Confound their politics, frustrate their knavish tricks, on Thee our hopes we fix, God save us all.’’

God save us all, indeed! Can this be the work of a fellow countryman of the great Will Shakespeare?

That verse sounds as though it was cobbled together by a committee in the taproom of a London tavern after the ale had run out, but while it was still too early to go home.

The words and melody of the anthem first appeared in the Gentleman’s Magazine in1745. No-one claimed authorship. Not surprising really!

Nowadays the anthem is rarely heard. Citizens don’t often have to give expression to their loyalty to the Crown.

When it is played at football matches, so-called fans commandeer it to appeal to God to save their gracious team.

Outsiders must think we British are a disloyal lot.

In every American school youngsters daily pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States.

Americans seize every opportunity to sing “Oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light, what so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming…’’

That’s poetry, that is. Makes the British anthem seem a bit…well, a bit thin.

Nevertheless, at the first drum roll heralding “God Save Our Gracious Queen’’ my back will stiffen.

If in public, to attention I will spring.

Even if in the very back of my mind I’m remembering John Noble’s cat.

Sorry, Your Majesty. No disrespect intended.