In grief, kindred spirits revealed their true selves

This was the House of Commons at its best, because it was paying respects to one of its best members. The tributes given to Sir David Amess yesterday stressed his principles, kindness and – I use the word as a compliment – eccentricity, reflected in his twin passions of animals (at one point he kept six budgies and fish in his office) and making Southend a city.

John Whittingdale recalled that during the Westminster dog show, Sir David told MPS that they should vote for his French bulldog, Vivienne, because she was a strong supporter for granting city status to Southend.

The PM set the tone for the afternoon. Dressed in black, his hair almost brushed, Boris Johnson condemned this “contemptible act of violence” that violated “the sanctity of the church and the constituency surgery” that Sir David was conducting when he was attacked.

Those words got to the heart of it. MPS are not only bereft at losing someone who was liked by all – a man with a “mega-watt smile” who “always asked after my children” – but they’re also frightened that this could happen again. They’re angry that security is so lax. They’re furious with internet companies that they believe offer a platform for hate that is constantly directed at them and their staff.

“We might disagree passionately about how best to help people,” said Mark Francois in a remarkable speech, struggling to hold back tears, “but we came [into politics] to try. For which we are systematically vilified day after day. Enough is enough.”

“Farewell David,” he concluded, “my colleague, my great friend, in fact quite simply the best bloke I ever knew.” It wasn’t a speech you might expect to hear from Francois, the hard man of Brexit, but in grief MPS revealed something about their true selves – such as in poetic remarks by Labour MP Mike Kane, who reflected upon Sir David’s Catholic faith and closed with the prayer, “May the choirs of angels come to greet you, may they lead you to paradise.” There was a quiet chorus of “Amen”.

Labour members have been through this, too: they recalled how they felt after Jo Cox was murdered, and Sir Keir Starmer offered “to reach across and acknowledge the pain that is felt on the opposite benches”. Civility matters, he said. So, as Sir David showed, does good humour.

When he first ran for Basildon in 1983, revealed Sarah Dines, a family friend, Sir David was advised to get a wife and cut his hair. He married his sweetheart but kept the locks. He was the embodiment of a generation of working-class Tories – plenty of them still on the benches today – who were proudly patriotic and thoroughly loyal to Mrs Thatcher.

On his first visit to No 10, said Sir David Evennett, he asked the great lady to take him on a tour, and she showed him where she cooked Denis his breakfast. As an MP he missed, or escaped, ministerial advancement; his dedication to his constituents and his multitude of causes was probably too great. He kept colleagues down to earth with surreal jokes. Introducing James Duddridge to others, the MP for the next-door constituency, Sir David would say, “Meet James. He’s my neighbour. He’s recently got out of prison.”

As the memories rolled out over two hours, the mood of the Chamber lifted, like sunshine after the storm. And the good news, revealed the PM, is that Southend will finally be made into a city. The chamber applauded.

Vivienne will be pleased. And I’ve no doubt that somewhere else, Sir David – a dedicated servant to Southend – is absolutely delighted.

MPS are not only bereft at losing someone who was liked by all, they’re also frightened that this could happen again