In addition to this, Edinburgh 1950 found me filling in two mornings each week with Robert Helpmann and the conductor Hans Schmidt-Isserstedt giving tableaux performances of Stravinsky's Histoire du Soldat, and three late-night sessions per week of David Lindsay's The Gentle Shepherd. This was a fascinating little frolic, being in Ancient Scots, which was originally completely incomprehensible but later became a matter of daily use with the four woodwind players who were the only musicians used, apart from Cedric Thorpe Davie, who composed the music and played with us on an antique fortepiano.... At night, all four of us were bewigged and dressed in best Regency style, and had to attend to our own candle-snuffing. Once Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother sat at my elbow, and certainly understood every word of the ancient language. It was interesting to see that when one of the many 'blue' passages came and the audience suddenly fell about with joy, she was able completely to control her features and suddenly take no part; but her eyes showed complete understanding. There was also a memorable occasion when Beecham came in, late as usual, simply to see the show, and in the hush which preceded the start of the overture, looked at our small group of bewigged and powdered players and roared with laughter. 'Good God, it's Jackson!' he shouted, seeing his favourite first flute with ten times more hair than was his wont. << less