The history that shaped the Queen’s funeral
People around the world were transfixed by the scale and splendour of Elizabeth II’s funeral in September – a ceremony that drew explicitly on centuries of British royal traditions. TRACY BORMAN reveals how such events have changed, yet remained the same, across generations
The funeral of Queen Elizabeth II on 19 September broke an array of records.
It was the UK’s biggest security operation, with 10,000 police officers deployed in the capital. It was attended by 500 world leaders, with almost 6,000 military personnel taking part in a meticulously choreographed operation. In short, it was the largest and most impressive royal state funeral in British history – fitting, given that Elizabeth II was the country’s longest-reigning monarch.
The ceremony may well prove to be the apogee of royal funerals.
With hints of a more frugal, slimmed-down version of monarchy from Charles III’s reign onwards, we will probably never see anything like it again. Though its scale might have been unprecedented, it was the result of centuries of tradition surrounding royal funerals.
One of the earliest burials for which we have detailed evidence
was uncovered at Sutton Hoo in Suffolk on the eve of the Second World War. Archaeologists found a burial, dating from the early seventh century, of incomparable richness. Musical instruments and intricately carved weaponry rendered from precious metals and gems were placed in a huge ship intended to convey the deceased to the afterlife. The presence of diplomatic gifts from Scandinavia hint at someone wellrespected and well-connected, while the shoulder clasps modelled on those worn by Roman emperors are symbolic of power. Together, they indicate someone of exceptionally high, likely royal, status – possibly Raedwald, king of East Anglia.
Early royal funerals often took place over two days,
with the state ceremonies on the first day and the interment on the second. Over the centuries this was condensed to a single day, though often with the same delineation between the more public funeral service and the more private interment – as was the case with Elizabeth II. For centuries, royal funerals were held after sunset, as was also the case with royal weddings and christenings. Only gradually, as the monarchy became more conscious of the need to project its magnificence to the people (particularly after the Restoration in 1660), did funerals shift to daylight hours. For much of the crown’s history, a new monarch did not attend the funeral of his or her late predecessor, possibly because of a superstitious dread of associating themselves too closely with death.
From the 14th century on, it became a tradition for an effigy of the dead monarch
to be carried either on or near the coffin during royal funerals. This would be startlingly lifelike and dressed in the late sovereign’s coronation robes to heighten the effect. Many of the effigies still survive in Westminster Abbey, and reveal fascinating details. For example, the twisted face of Edward III suggests he died of a stroke, while the effigy of Mary I has a distended stomach – a symptom either of the phantom pregnancy she experienced shortly before her death or of an ovarian tumour.
The dress code for royal funerals has traditionally featured black – lots of it.
Beautifully detailed illustrations of Elizabeth I’s funeral procession in 1603 still survive in the British Library. They show the long procession of mourners swathed in full-length black mourning cloaks and hoods. Colour comes from the heralds, who wore tabards over their mourning cloaks and carried the late monarch’s achievements listed on a colourful banner. Ironically, given that she spent 40 years in black after the death of her beloved Albert, Victoria ordered that there should be no black cloaks or
drapes for her own funeral in 1901, and that the pall covering her coffin should be white.
In general, however, royal funerals in recent times owe much to Victoria – as is the case with so many royal traditions. It is largely thanks to her that they have such a strong military flavour. She expressed a desire to be buried as “a soldier’s daughter” – her father Edward, Duke of Kent, had been commander-in-chief of British forces in the Maritime Provinces of North America. In place of the usual peers, privy councillors and household staff that had dominated the procession for centuries, military personnel were now on prominent display. Her pallbearers were equerries rather than dukes and, for the first time, a gun carriage was employed to convey the queen’s coffin.
In the long history of royal funerals, things haven’t always gone to plan. During the ceremony for William the Conqueror at Saint-Étienne in 1087, one of the houses nearby caught fire, “sending up great balls of flame”. The blaze quickly spread to neighbouring houses, sending the congregation into a panic. Many of the guests fled, leaving the monks to hastily lay their late ruler to rest. Then, as they attempted to force William’s bloated corpse into a sarcophagus that was too small, the body suddenly burst open, emitting “an intolerable stench that soon filled the entire church”.
Rather less grisly was the mishap that befell Victoria’s funeral. During the procession, horses pulling the gun carriage that bore her coffin reared up and broke their harnesses, and could not be reattached. “You would think that the English monarchy had not been buried since the time of Alfred,” one eyewitness scornfully remarked.
The elaborate ceremony surrounding royal funerals has two distinct purposes. One is, of course, honouring the deceased sovereign – but the other, more subtle purpose is to
symbolise the continuity that lies at the heart of the British monarchy. This was in full evidence at Elizabeth II’s funeral, in the moving of the imperial crown, orb and sceptre from her coffin to the altar of St George’s Chapel, the relentless march of the military ranks, and the prominence of the new King Charles III and his heirs in the procession. As Lord Lyndhurst, who served three 19th-century monarchs as Lord High Chancellor, put it: “The sovereign always exists; the person only is changed.”
“Tradition fetters your limits. The past clogs the present.” So reflected Wallis Simpson about the state of the UK – and, as far as the country itself was concerned, she may have had a point. But the exact opposite is true of the monarchy. For more than 1,000 years it has weathered crises that looked set to consign it to the pages of history. The key to its survival has been the unchanging ceremonies that have defined the crown over the centuries, and which still fascinate and inspire millions of people around the globe. As the Whig politician Lord Halifax pointed out to Victoria’s private secretary: “The mass of people expect a king or queen to look and play the part. They want to see a crown and sceptre and all that sort of thing. They want the gilding for their money.” This “gilding” in turn reinforces the sense of continuity that the monarchy symbolises, which – as well as helping to ensure a smooth succession after the death of a monarch – offers a much-needed sense of certainty in a rapidly changing world.