Behind the invisible armour of duty the monarch was simply a grieving widow...
THE tears had been shed in private as she prayed beside his coffin inside the castle where they spent their final days.
She had lingered over their parting, perhaps placing a kiss on the casket with her gloved fingers, before composing herself and preparing to face the world.
When Her Majesty the Queen emerged yesterday to bid farewell to her consort, she was the picture of dignity and stoicism.
But behind her Covid-compliant mask and the invisible armour of duty, the monarch was simply a grieving widow.
Anguished Lilibet, mourning her beloved Philip, the light of her life for more than 80 years.
And in her black mourning clothes on a dazzling spring afternoon, she looked smaller, more frail and more alone than ever.
Pale, bowed, a little unsteady on her feet – but determined to ensure the Duke of Edinburgh got the send-off he had wanted.
A fleet of cars had ferried most of the mourners to St George’s Chapel before the Prince’s coffin left the castle with senior royals walking behind the Land Rover hearse.
SALUTES
In an unconventional gesture of respect, the Queen followed behind in a State Bentley, accompanied by her most trusted lady-in-waiting, Lady Susan Hussey.
The car stopped at the chapel’s Galilee Porch where the Queen was greeted by the Dean of Westminster.
They exchanged a few words and then she paused and half-turned, listening to the final round of the minute salutes which were fired from the same field gun used at her wedding to Philip in 1949.
She was led into the chapel, with her lady-in-waiting following.
Lady Hussey was not one of the 30 official mourners but remained in attendance in case she was needed.
The Queen was guided to her seat in the second row of the quire stalls on the right, closest to the altar.
In front of her was the empty, purple-draped catafalque, awaiting her husband’s coffin.
Outside, it was being carried up the West Steps where the bearer party paused for the national minute’s silence. The Queen marked it inside, standing with her head bowed.
Then a Royal Navy piping party piped the Carry On call and the Queen turned to watch the coffin borne down the aisle, topped with her wreath of white lilies, roses, freesia, sweet peas and jasmine.
She watched intently as it was gently set down, her eyes resting on the naval cap and sword that Philip had worn to accompany her to thousands of official functions. And the empty seat beside her
You ached for someone to be able to place a hand on hers for the briefest moment of compassion
was another reminder of the loss of her consort – the strength and stay who helped her bear the burden of monarchy.
“Grief is the price we pay for love,” Elizabeth once said at a time of national mourning.
But after a loving marriage lasting 73 years, the depth of her own grief was impossible to fathom.
During the service, the TV cameras only occasionally focused on the
Queen, respecting the strain of the occasion. Her face mask was trimmed in white and a glittering brooch was pinned above her heart.
But each time our monarch bowed her head in prayer, her black hat made her become almost invisible against the dark wooden quire.
You ached for somebody to be able to place their hand gently on hers for the briefest, protocol-breaking moment of compassion.
But while the cruel constraints of a global pandemic left Elizabeth physically isolated in the chapel, she was certainly not alone in her darkest hour because the thoughts, prayers and affection of the nation and Commonwealth were with her.
And every single person who has lost a loved one to coronavirus must have felt the extra twinge of a deep sadness for her pain.
PARTNERSHIP
Most of those tuning in to watch the TV coverage of the funeral have only ever known the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh as a partnership.
“My husband and I” became part of the English language – the Queen’s unique royal catchphrase.
Because while Philip always walked a respectful two steps behind, he was still the other half of the team. And as Elizabeth and Philip weathered the storms of family life and the changing fortunes of the nation, they represented an unerring constancy, commitment and devotion.
Philip had planned his funeral down to the very last detail to reflect his life, faith and passions.
When the order of service was released, the Palace had explained his choice of music and the significance of military ceremonial.
But really, the Queen was the only person who truly understood the symbols and references because she had shared the life, the faith and the
passions, and every detail must have sparked another achingly poignant memory.
And yet she remained strong and composed, just as he would have expected.
If her composure failed her at all, it must have been at the moment Philip’s coffin disappeared from sight – lowered into the royal vault on a mechanical lift.
It will remain there until the death of the Queen, when they can be laid to rest together.
As the coffin slipped away, a lone piper played a lament, walking out of the chapel so that the notes drifted poignantly away.
But then, so typically of Philip, he had asked for ‘Action Stations’ to be sounded.
It was his way of telling his wife and family: “Back to work now, just get on with it.” And the Queen did just that, leaving the chapel to return to Windsor Castle.
In the months the royal couple spent together in lockdown, they had been “reminiscing madly”, a royal source revealed.
They watched cine camera films which Philip had digitised and went through treasured family snaps.
They will have looked at their wedding photographs too, recalling how they vowed to love and honour… till death do us part.
Now they are parted and the Queen must continue her reign alone. But she will continue to honour her beloved Philip, and their love will never die.