Then, at her funeral, her second gift was to give – temporarily at least – the country a sense of her importance. Thoughts that we were a nation in decline, with large numbers of its population unsure whether they would be able to afford to eat and stay warm in the coming months, were put on hold. We had a history worth celebrating. We and the country mattered. Leaders from around the world gathered at Westminster Abbey to pay their respects to our late Queen in a ceremony of unrivaled pomp and pageantry. We could tell ourselves that no one else could have given the head of state a better send-off. We were the center of attention. We were a superpower. We could be proud. Delusional, perhaps. But proud. Just for one day. Guests began arriving at the abbey shortly after 8am. One of the first was a top Jacob Rees-Mogg. Then came select members of the public, unreigned monarchs – the Prince of Venice and the Margrave of Baden bow – and other politicians. Next came the minor heads of state, many of whom boarded buses. Several tried to show their orange invitations at the door. They just waved at them. No one expected any gaatecrashers for this event. The only uninvited guest turned out to be the spider that had gotten into the flowers on the queen’s coffin. We never got to see who sided with the North Koreans. Or if there was an unofficial Naughty Step for dodgy regimes. The seating plan must have been a logistical nightmare. Joe Biden arrived in his own car and had to wait at the west door to allow the procession of Victoria and George Cross recipients to take their places in front of him. Then came the former prime ministers. First John Major, by all accounts the Queen’s favourite, and ending with Boris Johnson, by all accounts the most loathed. Her last service to the country while she lived was to see his back. Johnson was sitting next to the Mays. But unlike at Westminster Hall several days earlier, this time Theresa could put her husband, Philip, between her and Boris. Philip didn’t seem particularly pleased to have drawn the short straw. The junior royals took their places – James Severn, Prince Edward’s son, is only 14 but has still managed to collect a few medals – along with the Princess of Wales and her two older children, Prince George and Princess Charlotte. The subject of succession was inevitable. All is well with the House of Windsor. Meanwhile, at Westminster Hall, the Queen’s four children along with the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Sussex prepared to walk behind the coffin as it was carried by more than 140 sailors on a carriage. Andrew and Harry were again wearing morning suits and not military uniform. It seemed cruel for Harry to be given the same punishment as Andrew, but the royal family can be ruthless when they want to be. Outside the abbey, there were some cheers but mostly a sense of quiet. Even the planes were diverted. The one interruption, at least on the BBC, was the audio of Huw Edwards telling everyone what they could already see and promising that there would be no commentary during the service itself. Blessed relief. The past 10 days of having to talk official gibberish for 14 hours a day have understandably driven Edwards a little crazy. It’s almost as if he considers himself an integral part of the royal house. Someone he can no longer function without. The whole occasion was at once quintessentially British in its ceremony and also profoundly un-British. Normally, we try to put death in a place where it can’t be seen. Or felt. Somewhere we can pretend it’s not the price we pay to live. However, here we had death at the center. The Queen’s coffin in the center of the abbey. He felt somewhat healed. After opening the prayers and hymns, Lady Scotland read the first lesson, taken from Corinth. He spoke wonderfully, so that even those who had no faith could half believe that faith could triumph over death. That there was life after death. Liz Truss predictably slayed the second course from St John. Speaking out loud is not her forte and she has yet to realize that punctuation is there to help you understand the text. However, its deathly monotony was not entirely out of place at a funeral, and the Queen would have been pleased to be read by anyone but Boris. Former prime ministers were among congregants at the Queen’s funeral. Photo: Gareth Fuller/AP The Archbishop of Canterbury also had some comments to make about world leaders in general and Johnson in particular during his unashamedly political sermon. Only those, like the Queen, who first and foremost served a higher power will be remembered. Those whose only God was their fragile ego would be forgotten. There were more surprises near the end of the service with the Queen’s selection of Charles Wesley’s Love Divine. This hymn is a Methodist hymn. Replaced religion gave voice in most cases. Perhaps the Queen was a more complex and conflicted woman in terms of her faith than many believed. Maybe there was an egalitarian side to her that got lost among the privilege. The King looked thoughtful as the congregation performed the soul-stirring national anthem. Well it can. He doesn’t just mourn his mother, he must follow her example. Who knows if the country will ever love him as much as they loved the queen? Or indeed if he can hold the monarchy together. William and Harry often seem more interested in their personal feuds. Without the queen the whole thing might fall apart. After the service, military bands played a funeral medley as the group made their way up to Marble Arch. The Heralds and the Pursuivants, looking like extras from a Disney theme park, tried to march in time without stepping on the horse while the senior royals took their places behind the carriage. Their farewell in London was to oversee the Queen’s carriage in the hearse. A few flowers were thrown, but this was not Princess Di’s moment. Time for grandeur and dignity rather than sentimentality. The last public act took place at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. Despite the congregation of 800, it felt familiar. Almost as if we were intruding on something private. Something historic as the knife, bullet and crown were removed from the coffin. Something grand as the Lord Chamberlain broke the staff of office and left it in the coffin. Something unbearable as the King stood in front of the coffin while descending into the vault. The last we would see of the queen. Charles looked so lonely. Even lost. As if he had been waiting 73 years for this moment and now he didn’t know if he really wanted it. The wailing of the bagpipes spoke for him. As it did for all of us. Rest in Peace.
