Sir – Reg Little opens his history of the New Bodleian (Feature, March 4) with a description of the “highly embarrassing moment” when the King, having been presented with the key to ceremonially unlock the new building, was unable to do so. I remember — I was there, age seven. There was quite a crowd anxious to see — at least one boy was clinging halfway up a lamppost. The cavalcade of big shiny cars arrived and disgorged George VI; he ascended the steps, took the key from the cushion on which it was presented to him, inserted it — and struggled for a time.

We didn’t realise the key had actually broken, we just assumed it didn’t work, and though it was comical (someone had to go in through a back door and unlock it from inside) I don’t think many people laughed.

We felt sorry for the King, so unkinglike, with his stammer and his shyness, such a contrast with his glamorous brother Edward, whose wild romance had placed George on the throne.

Even dyed-in-the-wool republicans felt a lot of sympathy for him. And that business with the key seemed just typical of his bad luck.

Irene Gill, Oxford