Happy and glorious

I recently went for a walk on the grounds of one of my favourite buildings, the Ontario Legislature, called the Pink Palace because of the colour of the sandstone. The architectural style, known as Richardson Romanesque, was also used in Toronto’s Old City Hall.
Suddenly, I saw a jarring sight. The statue of Queen Victoria, sitting in her usual place to the right of the main entrance, was surrounded by a square of stakes tied together with yellow tape. Were the powers-that-be thinking about dismantling and taking down Queen Victoria?
On the one hand, I understood their concern. Other statues of Queen Victoria in places as diverse as Montreal, Kitchener and Winnipeg have been toppled or defaced. Maybe they were being proactive and preserving the old girl. Yet Queen Victoria not only gave her name to the surroundings, but also served as the basis for the style of the statue of Queen Elizabeth unveiled in 2023 to the left of the front entrance.
They were supposed to be what’s known as a pendant where two things are alike. The newer Queen was carved in a similar size and height as the older. Both were seated on thrones with two steps and a plinth. That careful balance could soon be gone. Queen Victoria might have to show a stiff upper lip somewhere in storage.
If so, was this wrongheaded decision taken by the same committee that allows another statue nearby to continue standing? Known as the Northwest Rebellion Monument, it honours soldiers and volunteers sent to quell the 1885 uprising led by Métis leader Louis Riel. In recent years there has been much guilt and lamentation about how badly we treat our indigenous peoples so why does Queen’s Park still display this statue honouring the white-folks winning side?
Further, there’s the embarrassing matter of the Sir John A. Macdonald statue that’s been shuttered and hidden in a box for four years because of vandalism. I remember talking about this situation to someone who was part of an official group charged with deciding how to deal with this predicament. That was 2021.
By the time my walkabout took me back to the site of Queen Victoria, a four-man work crew was inside the yellow tape. I drew closer and shouted, “Is she coming down?” “No,” came the reply. “We’re just doing some repairs.” Then he paused and added, “The sun never sets on the British empire.”
Relieved, I bowed, and departed. My Queen still ruled.