Foreign News: Your Undoubted Queen

In the broad transepts of Westminster Abbey, a thousand peers and ladies sat, clothed in velvet and miniver, dazzling in their show of decorations won in peace and war. In the nave, the chivalry of empire unrolled like a Bayeux tapestry. Music played, yet over 7,000 subjects, gathered to honor their Queen while worshiping their God, a hush of dedication hung like a prayer.

Shortly before 9 a.m., the first processions arrived: the Lord Mayor of London and the Speaker of the House of Commons; the representatives of 74 foreign powers, including General George C. Marshall and Russia’s Jacob Malik; the Sultans of Zanzibar, Perak and Selangor; Her Majesty, the Queen of Tonga. The Dukes of Gloucester and Kent entered and took up positions in the chancel. The Queen Mother and Princess Margaret, each with her ladies in waiting, moved down the aisle and took their privileged places. Outside, and ever nearer, came the sound of horses’ hooves on Parliament Square.

As Big Ben tolled 11, the hoof beats ceased. Four hundred boys’ voices soared into the great crescendo of Sir Hubert Parry’s anthem: “I was glad when they said unto me, We will go into the House of the Lord!”

Vivat Regina. From the west door of the Abbey, Westminster’s beadle led the ranking clergy of Great Britain to the foot of the altar steps. The orders of knighthood followed—Bath, Thistle and Garter—then the standards of the Commonwealth, led by Ceylon’s (a lion grasping a sword), and concluded by the Royal Arms of England, borne by Montgomery of Alamein. Polity, law and religion—the triple stays of monarchy—were impressively represented in the persons of eight Prime Ministers (of Ceylon, Pakistan, India, South Africa, New Zealand, Australia, Canada and Britain), two Archbishops (York and Canterbury), and the Lord High Chancellor of England in full-bottomed wig and gown. Last came Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, and then, with joyous fanfare of trumpets, Her Majesty, the Queen.

“Vivat Regina Elizabetha! Vivat! Vivat! Vivat!” shouted the Queen’s Westminster Scholars as the Queen walked up the aisle, her long, crimson train borne by six maids of honor. At a faldstool on the left of the altar, the Queen knelt and prayed alone. Silently she rose and stood before the altar, facing first east, then south, west and north, to show herself to the people. Four times, once to each side, the Archbishop of Canterbury proclaimed: “Elizabeth, your undoubted Queen: wherefore, all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, are you willing to do the same?”

Four times, with four fanfares, the answer came back: “God Save Queen Elizabeth!”

Oracles of God. Thus “presented” and “recognized,” Elizabeth of England accepted the oath of high office:

Archbishop: Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern [all your peoples] according to their respective laws and customs?

The Queen: I solemnly promise so to do.

Will you to your power cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?

I will.

Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the laws of God . . . [and] maintain in the United Kingdom the Protestant reformed religion? . . . All this I promise to do.

The Queen knelt at the altar, kissed the Holy Bible and made her solemn oath: “The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep. So help me God.” With a golden pen she signed a copy of the oath, the only formal contract between Sovereign and subjects. The Moderator of the Church of Scotland presented her with the Bible. “[It] is the most valuable thing that this world affords. Here is wisdom; this is the royal law; these are the lively oracles of God.”

Spoonful of Oil. Therewith began the Anglican Communion service, which is the heart of coronation. Embedded in the familiar liturgy of the Book of Common Prayer, the mysteries of the anointing and crowning lost their strangeness for Britons, and the Abbey became, in a trice a nation’s parish church. Archbishop and people intoned:

Lord have mercy upon us.

Christ have mercy upon us.

Lord have mercy upon us.

The Duchess Dowager of Devonshire, assisted by the Lord Great Chamberlain, unfastened the silk ribbons that held the Queen’s train, and slipped over Her Majesty’s arms a white muslin smock. Thus, with jewels hidden, Elizabeth crossed the chancel to her seat in King Edward’s chair. The choir sang Handel’s anthem Zadok the Priest, and four Knights of the Garter, gathering about their Queen, raised a cloth-of-gold canopy above her. The Dean of Westminster poured a spoonful of holy oil (containing perfumes of orange blossom, roses, cinnamon and jasmine, mixed with musk and ambergris) from an eagle-shaped vessel called the Ampulla. The Archbishop moistened his finger in the oil and made the sign of the cross on both the Queen’s hands, on her breast and on the crown of her head. He spoke the ancient words: “As kings, priests and prophets were anointed, and as Solomon was anointed king by Zadok the priest . . . so be thou anointed, blessed and consecrated Queen over the peoples whom the Lord thy God hath given thee to rule.”

Symbols of Kingliness. Thus sanctified, the Queen was invested with the Colobiun Sindonis, “the robe of purity,” and over it the Supertunica, a belted cloth of gold lined with crimson silk. She was ready to receive the emblems of temporal power.

The Archbishop laid in her hands the Sovereign’s Sword—to “do justice, stop the growth of iniquity, protect the holy Church of God . . . restore the things that are gone to decay, maintain the things that are restored, punish and reform what is amiss, and confirm what is in good order.” The Queen took the Sword, advanced with it to the altar and offered it to God. Turning, she stole a glance at the royal gallery, where her 4-year-old son Prince Charles, in a white silk suit, watched enraptured. She paused and returned to the chair.

On her wrists the Archbishop placed the Armills, or “Bracelets of sincerity and wisdom,” over her shoulders was draped the golden Pallium, symbol of “the robe of righteousness and the garments of salvation.” And to remind the monarch that “the whole world is subject to the Power and Empire of Christ our Redeemer,” the Dean of Westminster presented her with the Orb, a golden globe surmounted by a cross.

Elizabeth took in her hands next the symbols of Kingliness: the Ring (of sapphire and rubies), to wed the Queen to her subjects; the Royal Sceptre with the Cross, decorated with the Star of Africa (a 516½-carat diamond), for “kingly power”; the Rod of equity and mercy, to “lead your people in the way wherein they should go.” The climax of the coronation was near.

Crowning. The Crown itself sparkled in the candlelight. The Archbishop of Canterbury moved to the high altar, clasped it in both hands and raised it before him. “Oh God, the Crown of the Faithful,” he prayed, “bless, we beseech Thee, this Crown, and so sanctify Thy servant Elizabeth, upon whose head Thou dost place it . . . that she may be filled by Thine abundant grace, with all princely virtue.” With the Crown borne before him, Canterbury approached the Queen. He raised it high above her, paused for all to see, and placed it on her head.

From the Abbey’s depths welled the deep voice of Elizabeth’s subjects:

“God save the Queen! God save the Queen!”

Trumpets stabbed the air, and as one, a thousand peers and peeresses rose and put on their coronets. Outside (and across the Commonwealth, and wherever there were British ships), bells pealed and cannon roared.

Homage. The Queen sat motionless, her twin scepters held upright, her brown tresses peeping out from the rim of the lustrous Crown. From the choir rose the anthem, Be Strong and of Good Courage, and Elizabeth II, escorted by her nobles, moved to the high throne.

Geoffrey, Archbishop of Canterbury, was first to kneel at her feet. He placed his hands between his Queen’s and spoke for the Established Church: “I will be faithful and true, and faith and truth will bear unto you, our Sovereign Lady . . . Defender of the Faith.” Next came Philip, her husband, first peer of the realm. “I, Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, do become your liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship: and faith and truth I will bear unto you, to live and die against all manner of folks. So help me God.” The Duke touched his sovereign’s Crown, kissed his wife on the left cheek, then descended the five steps of the dais to his place on the left of the altar.

One doughty champion from each of the five degrees of peerage (dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts and barons) followed in Philip’s footsteps. Philip and the Dukes of Gloucester and Kent alone kissed Her Majesty’s cheek. As each peer pledged his fealty, the members of his ancient order repeated, phrase by phrase, his oath of liegemanship. When it was done, the acclaim roared out once more:

“God save Queen Elizabeth!

Long live Queen Elizabeth!

May the Queen live forever!”

Communion. There remained one more duty for Elizabeth II to perform: to receive the Lord’s Supper. The liturgy of the Holy Communion was said as the Archbishop led the Queen to the Communion rail. Kneeling, she removed her Crown and offered the oblation which custom demands of monarchs: “An ingot or wedge of gold, of a pound weight,” and “a pall or altar cloth.” Philip, her husband, stepped to her side, and while the choir sang the hymn, All People That on Earth Do Dwell, man & wife received the bread and wine. Together, they led the prayer: “Our Father, Which art in Heaven . . .” Thus, freely confessing that “Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory . . .” Elizabeth II celebrated her crowning.

Outside the rain beat down heavily on her loyal subjects.