Out of a day of many unforgettable images, viewed by a worldwide audience, one picture has quickly come to epitomize the funeral of HRH Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, on Saturday 17 April 2021. It is the photo of his widow, HM the Queen, sitting alone in the choir stalls of St. George’s Chapel, a tiny figure, her shoulders stooped with age and sorrow, masked (perhaps a blessing?) and wearing somber black relieved only by a stunning diamond broach that first belonged to her grandmother.

The scene set me thinking…. One of my first forays into reading books about the royals, fifty-some years ago, was Marion Crawford’s THE LITTLE PRINCESSES. Miss Crawford – the Scottish governess who cared for and companioned the princesses from the early 1930s, through WWII, and up to Elizabeth and Philip’s marriage – noted her concern at the time as to whether Princess Elizabeth should attend the Lying-in-State, and then the Windsor funeral, of King George V in 1936. Was it too much for one so young? (Not yet age 10 at the time.) It was duly decided that the princess would attend and, as one would expect of this particular princess, she proved her mettle. “Crawfie” described her as somber and pale, wearing a black coat and little velvet tam as she joined her heavily veiled mother and the royal ladies at Paddington Station for the trip to Windsor and St. George’s.

Later on Saturday, after the funeral, I decided to look for any images of Princess Elizabeth at that 1936 funeral and struck gold as it were. On YouTube, I found a clip from the British Pathe newsreel coverage of that day: YouTube: The Funeral Of His Majesty King George V (1936). If you look at the 9:00 minute mark you’ll find the coffin of George V being carried up the steps of St. George’s Chapel, followed by his sons, widow, and family. At the 9:30 mark, you will see, in the lower right of the screen, the unmistakable image of Princess Elizabeth, solemn but observant, as she and her mother join the Duke of York on the steps. A small solemn figure, dressed in black… then, and now.

The Queen is the last surviving member of the family that attended the funeral of George V. In subsequent years she has returned many times, for the burial services of her adored father, George VI; her formidable grandmother, Queen Mary; her mother-in-law, Princess Alice; her uncles, the Dukes of Windsor and Gloucester; her mother, Queen Elizabeth; her sister, Princess Margaret; and various other members of the House of Windsor, now including that of her much-beloved husband and companion of 73 years. (Among those, I’ve looked, but have not found out, whether she was also among the attendees at the particularly poignant and tearful funeral of the Duke of Kent in 1942, after his tragic death in wartime service.)

Not one to dwell on such things, snippets of memories of all those other funerals must nonetheless have passed through the Queen’s mind over the last week or so… along with thoughts of others such as Lord Mountbatten’s and Princess Diana’s, in particular. For all of those services since 1947, she had had Prince Philip at her side.

On Saturday Philip was not at her side but, in a way, he was all around her. Though down-sized and adapted due to COVID, Prince Philip’s hand shown through in every detail of the striking service that may set a new standard for royal funerals at St. George’s. Two of the pieces of music, the settings of Psalms 100 and 104, beautifully sung by the 4-person ensemble in the bare nave, were originally commissioned by Prince Philip. Liturgically and aesthetically, the whole service was perfection.

Following the service I found myself imagining the Queen calling the Prince of Wales and her new Lord Chamberlain over to her afterward and saying something to the effect of, “On Monday, start re-writing my funeral plans to be more like this. I know there will have to be the State ceremonies in London, but here at Windsor, I want something like today.”

It is inevitable that sometime in the next few years the Queen will follow those who have gone before her. That, too, must have crossed her mind, sitting there by herself on Saturday afternoon. And, with that thought, perhaps also the well-known and much-beloved prayer of John Henry Newman:

O Lord support us all the day long,
until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes,
and the busy world is hushed,
and the fever of life is over,
and our work is done.
Then in your mercy grant us a safe lodging,
and holy rest, and peace at the last,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Yours aye,
Ken Cuthbertson – The Laird o’ Thistle
April 19, 2021