By Pieter de Lange
A preview
I am not really a fan of the royal family, but it was difficult to resist the prevailing festive spirit and not to be fascinated by the sheer scale and complexity of the big event. So, on Friday I jumped into the car and drove to Ebbsfleet International, a railway station about 40 minutes away. I listened to the BBC on the way, and they were discussing the importance of the anointing of the king, something I never even thought about, which they said was the most sacred part of the event as it was based on that of King Solomon in the Bible. The oil for this ceremony comes straight from the Mount of Olives outside Jerusalem, they confirmed, and the recipe is a secret age-old one. They were also speculating whether it would be shown on television as the sovereign is anointed on the head, hands and heart to signify the gift of the Holy Spirit to inspire and guide him as he leads.
I arrived at Ebbsfleet and hesitated at first, as I am suffering from plantar fasciitis in my one foot, but I decided to press on and got on the train. The trains are usually half empty during late mornings, but now were packed with excited visitors, resulting in standing room only. “Good heavens,” I thought, “what will it be like tomorrow?” The festive mood was already palpable.
I managed to get to Green Park near Buckingham Palace, and there were high green screens everywhere; you could not even see the huge palace. As expected, it started to rain and I shared a temporary dry spot with a friendly couple from Sweden. I eventually found my way to The Mall. I wanted to see the diehard fans who queue and camp days in advance for myself. And yes, there they were, sitting on camping chairs behind the barriers that separated them from The Mall, soggy sleeping bags and folded plastic tents everywhere around them. Some drank coffee; others sipped something stronger. “That is to keep the cold out,” they told me. “Mad dogs and Englishmen,” someone with a bleary look muttered from the other side. A tall guide in a dark blazer explained the coronation process to a slightly wet audience of patient tourists in a booming voice.
I moved along towards Trafalgar Square, chatting to the cheerful royalists all along. There were quite a few Americans as well. A prominent group of very excited ladies all the way from Texas were enchanted by the prospect of seeing the “fairy-tale coach with a king and queen” aboard. Further down, there was a television crew from Italy, with the female reporter feverishly explaining the whole scene to her viewers. There were quite a number of officials around, as well as policemen. They were also in the moment and quite amenable to a quick chat. As I approached Trafalgar Square, there was a bit of a commotion. I noticed a parked police van and someone angrily explaining an incident to the police officers. Probably an attempted mugging, I thought. At this stage, my throbbing heel forced me to go back. But I was happy to have witnessed the extensive preparations and to have shared in the anticipation of a very special event.
Coronation spectacle
When Queen Elizabeth II was crowned in 1953, twenty television cameras covered the event. This time, the coronation was relayed by 126 television cameras. In 1953 there were about two million televisions in the United Kingdom, mainly in the big cities like London, Manchester, Birmingham, Cardiff and Glasgow, compared to 28 million currently. In 1953 the radio still featured prominently and at least 11 million tuned in to listen to the coronation proceedings. Surprisingly, more people were invited to the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II than that of King Charles III. 8 250 attended at Westminster Abbey in 1953, whilst in 2023, only 2 000 invites were sent out to family and friends of the King and Queen, as well as politicians, world leaders, celebrities and everyday heroes.
Millions of viewers tuned in on the slightly wet day in May to watch a spectacular event that was immaculately rehearsed. The Guardian newspaper described it as “A blend of pageantry, procession, music and mystery, with many private moments to savour.”
There was quite a moving moment when Charles, in a white tunic and shielded by embossed screens, kneeled before the Archbishop of Canterbury to be anointed with the holy oil.
Towards the end of the ceremony, both Charles and Camilla looked tired. He is 74, after all, in stark contrast to Elizabeth, who was 27 with her coronation.
Michael Billington summed it up brilliantly, in his article in The Guardian:
“I found it a dignified occasion and a reminder that, as a nation, we seem to be infinitely better at staging public spectacles than at governing the country.”
However, the unfortunate sea of rubbish, consisting of camping chairs, sleeping bags, Union Jack flags, plastic cups, empty beer bottles and cartons certainly detracted from the dignity of the ceremony and showed a distinct lack of respect for both the environment and the unfortunate officials who had the unenviable task of cleaning up.
