The best – and the worst – of the Queen’s extended goodbye

Fussy state funeral can’t spoil the magic

First, the worst

Queen Elizabeth’s state funeral was nothing like Prince Philip’s pared-back and intimate funeral just seventeen months before.

I got the impression that just too much was going on.

I don’t know if it was difficult circumstances and acoustics for broadcasting or poor production, but much of the music (something that was exceptional at Prince Philip’s) grated on me. A few of the hymns sounded fussy and overdone, losing their way in the vaults of Westminster Abbey. One piece of organ music I found turgid and much too grim as well as much too long. Meanwhile we experienced the Church of England at its stern and lecturing worst: laying on the God stuff far too heavily, hectoring the gathered political leaders and presuming to act like a moral majority for the world.

Maybe this is what the Queen wanted, as Justin Welby was keen to inform us. However I think it misjudged the moment and the audience - and much of it left a sour taste in my mouth.

Now the best - almost all the rest

However, thankfully, the main event couldn’t quite spoil the magic of a remarkable eleven days of ‘mourning’– something I reckon nearly all of us are unaccustomed to.

On the day itself, the armed forces including the superb military bands surpassed themselves once more with their superb organisation, discipline, colour and music. The public did the deceased matriarch proud by coming out in their many thousands both in Central London and along the route to Windsor. And the Dean of Windsor presided over a much better, more intimate service at St George’s Chapel once the casket arrived back at Windsor Castle.

There have been many stunning and spectacular moments over these special September days.

Here are my favourites (not quite the best since I didn’t see it all):

The first procession, to Westminster

A spectacular procession of the coffin up the Mall, through Horse Guards Parade and down Whitehall to the Palace of Westminster, with the children and some of the grandchildren marching in step with the armed forces and military band.

Psalm 139 sung as the coffin is laid down in Westminster Hall

A beautifully rendered version of these Biblical passages from James O’Donnell, who incidentally is a Catholic, as the heroes of the ‘bearer party’ brought the coffin into Westminster Hall and laid it down on its platform for the lying-in-state.

The Queue

Some didn’t approve of ordinary people queuing for ten or more hours to see the Queen lying in state because it made her look too valued by the people (or because a ticketing system could have made it more organised – take you pick). However it gave the opportunity for people to be there, to be spontaneous about being there, to make sacrifices to be there and to not have to negotiate the terrors of technology in order to secure their place there.

Hundreds of thousands of people, not just Britons but people from around the world, did just that. It said something very powerful – though I think we all struggle to explain exactly what in words.

The vigils of the Queen’s children and grandchildren

At the lying-in-state, Charles and his siblings Anne, Edward and Andrew stood guard over the Queen’s coffin on Friday, then on Saturday it was the turn of the Queen’s grandchildren, eight of them – including Louise at just 18 years old and James at 14. How brave they all were. And how good it was that ordinary people continued to pass respectfully during the fifteen minutes they were there. I got a powerful sense of the family and the public being united. Very special.

The procession from Westminster Abbey to Wellington Arch

After a faltering start to the TV production, when I found it difficult to figure out what was going on, the massed procession of the armed forces (led by some Royal Canadian Mounted Police) from Westminster Abbey to Hyde Park Corner settled down into a steady, slow march, accompanied by the various famous funeral marches and the Skye Boat Song from the pipers. It was maybe rather repetitive and tiresome for some, but I found it mesmerising, even meditative. This stretching out of time is something we don’t experience much in our hurried world.

Lone piper plays as coffin is committed

As Huff Post’s Elyse Wanshel writes, “The man who woke Queen Elizabeth II on the last day of her life also put her to rest.” Pipe Major Paul Burns used to play under Queen Elizabeth II’s window every morning “at all of her British residences” apparently. As the coffin was lowered into the St George’s Chapel vault to join Prince Philip, Burns played “Sleep, Dearie, Sleep” – and walked through the arch into the light of the space beyond just as a piper did for Philip’s funeral. However here the sound of the pipes continued faintly as proceedings continued and he disappeared from view.

Why would you not want this?

At times, these remarkable events got me thinking about our very noisy anti-monarchists and their allies, many of them and their allies fervently anti-British.

The thought occurred, at least for those who are genuine (as opposed to just wanting to destroy things): why on earth would you not want this? Why on earth would you prefer some random celebrity or failed politician as a President over this? Why would you want to destroy such a great and strong edifice that actually works, notwithstanding the troubles the Royal Family always has bubbling in the foreground.

It's an imperfect family, no doubt, but families are imperfect by their nature: and I think that is one reason why the Royal Family works. It’s because we can identify with them, in the changing cycles of life and death, joy and trouble, that they go through - because they match in a fashion those that we go through.

For countries including Australia, New Zealand and Jamaica, I think the question is somewhat different since having your head of state sitting in a country half a world away is at the very least incongruous. In our globalising world where everyone and everything is apparently merging into sameness, the sameness of the extended Anglophone world is not that of the British monarchy. For the most part, it appears to be variations of American progressivism, both of the left and right.

However, for us – meaning the British people – this family feels very much ours. To share their proceedings and their grief so publicly with us was special. It’s also heartening that these sentiments seem to have been shared far and wide around the world.

RIP Your Majesty.