The policeman searching bags at the entry point to the king’s coronation media stand opposite Westminster Abbey was sounding a bit regal himself. A journalist in the queue asked the busy officer whether he wanted him to empty out his bag, ready for the next search. “One of my men will do it for you,” said the officer in a lofty tone, waving towards a colleague. Then he caught himself and laughed. “One of my men?! What am I talking about? I sound like the bloody king.”
It was barely 7.30am but this part of central London was already locked down in advance of the coronation of King Charles and Queen Camilla. All roads in the area were closed to cars and most were also off-limits to pedestrians. Only the accredited were being let into the zone around the abbey, where British monarchs have been crowned for almost 1,000 years.
Journalists and event stewards roamed the streets among myriad hues of military personnel in full regalia, such as foot guards in red tunics and those iconic bearskin hats. Sand was deposited to cover up all the road markings. As Big Ben struck 8am from the far side of Parliament Square, a steady stream of guests in formal attire was already winding its way into the abbey. Everything and everyone was dolled up to look their best.
As the 2,300 guests including royals and political leaders from across the globe arrived, it all had the atmosphere of an elaborate and multicultural wedding. Then word started to filter through that police on the Strand had arrested peaceful protesters from anti-monarchy group Republic. The authorities’ ruthless approach underlined the formal weight of the occasion. This was no wedding.
[ King Charles is a walking, breathing, polo-playing mascot for a gloomy nationOpens in new window ]
There was a giddiness among some early arrivals. A beaming woman with unnaturally white teeth did an excited jig for the world’s media in front of the stand. Self-styled “Brexit hardman” Steve Baker, the UK’s minister of state for Northern Ireland, was next to arrive. Then came Ephraim Mirvis, Britain’s chief rabbi, who had walked all the way across London – it was Shabbat, the day of rest for Jewish people when the most devout won’t use anything mechanical, not even cars.
The big guns started arriving by 9.30am, with the majority of the guests now already inside the abbey. Jill Biden, the wife of US president Joe Biden, came in a four-car motorcade including two huge armoured vehicles flown in from the US. By now the rain was falling steadily as various military brigades also started taking up positions around Parliament Square and Broad Sanctuary, the road that sweeps along the side of the abbey.
Official Britain began to arrive in droves. Sir Lindsay Hoyle, the speaker of the House of Commons, followed behind Sarah Clarke, the Black Rod official who controls access to the House of Lords. Both were accompanied by staff members helping to bear their robes. Humza Yousaf, the first minister of Scotland, and Mark Drakeford, first minister of Wales, were followed by all seven living former UK prime ministers: John Major, Gordon Brown, Tony Blair, David Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson and Liz Truss, whose 44 days in the job were enough to get her a big day out in her big orange dress.
“Has Boris brushed his hair for the occasion?” asked someone on the broadcasters’ platform. Everyone around her laughed.
The sense of hierarchy was by now clearly apparent, with the most important guests arriving last. Foreign political leaders were followed by a slew of foreign royals, including King Willem-Alexander of the Netherlands and King Abdullah of Jordan. Then came minor British royals in a fleet of Range Rovers and buses, followed by Bentleys bearing those others further up the ranks, such as Princess Anne.
Suddenly, at 10.45am, there was a frisson. The king’s procession rounded the corner from Parliament Square as it arrived from Buckingham Palace. There were no crowds to cheer them, with ordinary people kept well back from this point. The horses drawing the king and queen’s carriage snorted and strained as they went by. Yet inside, Charles looked relaxed as he arrived for his date with destiny. He always knew this time would come, even if he had to wait 74 years for it.
The king and queen entered the abbey followed by Prince William and Princess Catherine of Wales, and the two-hour service commenced inside. The Westminster Abbey choir could be heard from outside. Shortly after they hit the high notes of Handel’s Zadok the Priest during Charles’s anointing at noon, the abbey’s bells rang out for two minutes – the signal that the king had been crowned.
There was still an hour to go inside the abbey, but the military formations were already beginning to form outside for the 4,000-strong coronation procession back to Buckingham Palace. Long lines of cavalry, footguards and soldiers bearing rifles and bayonets were assembled with precision.
Then the gold state coach that has been used at every coronation for more than 200 years came from the direction of Victoria Street. This would be the ride home for the newly crowned king and queen. Other, less ornate, horse-drawn coaches lined up in Dean’s Yard outside the abbey, turning it into a sort of regal taxi rank.
The procession returned to Buckingham Palace. The king and queen passed by in the gold state coach. Inside one of the following coaches, the Princess of Wales could be seen smiling and talking to her children, who looked nervous.
The rest of the congregation emerged from the Abbey. Sinn Féin’s Michelle O’Neill walked past the singer Nick Cave on her way towards Westminster. Nearby, Humza Yousaf posed for selfies. The rain kept falling but, as the cliche goes, it didn’t seem to dampen spirits. For all its current problems and strife, Britain still knows how to throw a royal party.
