OF CORONATIONS, CONSORTS, AND COLD WARS

 

 

Originally published during the lifetime of Queen Elizabeth II (February 2022), this piece is being reprised following the state funeral of the late British monarch. It has been supplemented with notations, in red italics. This reprise is being released in advance of any announcements concerning the details of the next coronation, and the speculations offered herein are just that: speculations:

Open speculation about the next coronation at Westminster Abbey has always been a bit of no-no in the United Kingdom. As it is considered by many Britons to be in poor taste to discuss such things while Britain’s much-revered current monarch is yet living, the topic is regarded as something of a taboo. 

Tut-tutting and editorial pearl clutching over the topic may be just a bit duplicitous, however, since, in reality, such speculations occur frequently enough. It is all happening now, in fact, and has been for some time behind closed doors as the House of Windsor comes to grips with how best to stage the formal inauguration of the reign of a British monarch in this increasingly volatile and uncertain 21st century world. 

Sensitive though it may be to openly discuss what will happen after the death of a beloved queen, it is necessary, of course, to have a plan in place, especially when one considers that the time which will transpire between the demise of Her Majesty (long hence, we hope) and the coronation of her successor is expected to be quite brief relative to the lengthy buffer between the death of King George VI in 1952 and the coronation of Elizabeth II in 1953. 

That was a stately 16-month gap. It has been reported, however, that Charles, by contrast, will be positively whisked into the Abbey after a mourning period of only a few months. Some have explained that the rationale behind the greatly reduced lead time anticipated between the queen’s state funeral and the next coronation is that arranging matters thus will reduce opportunities for British republicans and others to publicly agitate against the next coronation (and against the next reign). In these times of ferocious protests, insurrections, and trucker convoys, the wisdom of the plan comes into greater focus, perhaps. 

The timing of the death of Elizabeth II, in the late summer, lessens the likelihood that a coronation will be held within only a few months, since to do so would put it in winter. It is speculated that the coronation of Charles and Camilla may be scheduled to occur on June 2, 2023, the 70th anniversary of the coronation of the late queen. That would mean a lengthy wait of nine months. 

The next coronation will be of a king born generations ago and it will occur in the presence of generations far, far removed from the days of the last coronation and to whom the coronation ceremony is something with which they are mostly unfamiliar. In the 21st century, coronations of the European sort have only ever occurred (if perhaps somewhat eccentrically) in the island nation of Tonga, and very few people around the globe are even aware of those events in the South Pacific, much less have they witnessed them. 

To give ourselves a sense of just how long ago it was that a British monarch was crowned, consider that at that time the Cold War was in its early stages, Dwight D. Eisenhower had only just begun his first term as president of the United States, the grand opening of Disneyland was still two years away, and the first hit single by the “King of Rock and Roll” had not yet hit the charts. Paul McCartney was an eleven-year-old boy; Mick Jagger was only ten.

Remarkably enough, Elizabeth II’s 1953 coronation at Westminster Abbey was not the most recent to take place in Europe. Fully a decade later in 1963, in fact, the equally spectacular (and equally anachronistic) coronation of Pope Paul VI would take place at Rome in Saint Peter’s Square, the last event of its kind. Paul’s was the last European head to be crowned, and I gather many at the time would have added to that observation, “ever”. 

The conflicted pontiff’s elaborate medieval coronation rite, saturated as it was in baroque liturgical excess, seemed somewhat incongruous with the space age in which it occurred and, it must be noted, a bit out-of-step with the proposed reforms of the then-ongoing Second Vatican Council. 

After the 1963 spectacle, therefore, the papacy determined that a significantly less ostentatious inaugural ceremony was needed going forward. In 1978, consequently, Pope John Paul I was installed like a bishop rather than crowned like an emperor. His successors would follow suit. 

Kings and queens of Great Britain, however, are not really meant to be installed in simple fashion. They are expected to be ceremonially crowned and anointed, and they are furthermore expected to be crowned and anointed inside a magnificent abbey church in the context of a dazzling display of regal pomp and circumstance. 

Such has been the custom since time immemorial, and even as other European monarchies have dispensed with their coronation ceremonies (the few, that is, which had a coronation ceremony to begin with), the British monarchy is revered, at this point, for holding fast to its splendid ceremonial traditions. “Pared-back” and “streamlined” are not phrases one generally associates with British pageantry, after all. 

Thus, it will not come as much of a surprise to anyone, I think, when Charles, Prince of Wales—after at last succeeding his mother, Queen Elizabeth II—is formally and ceremonially crowned in Westminster Abbey just as all his predecessors have been since the days of William the Conqueror. Beyond being a simple matter of course, however, a coronation is what the world expects and seems to require of British monarchs. 

Of the 1953 coronation, Vincent Massey, then governor general of Canada, reflected that “During these times of stress and trouble, the Crown, unshaken by disaster, has been ennobled through trial. It helped us to face the dark days. It has been with us to brighten the glad ones. And, therefore, as we have returned once and again to this ancient rite, we have found it enriched with an even deeper meaning.” 

Barring some spectacular national or global disruption (which seems a laughable thing to say in these menacing times), Charles will be crowned. Just how spectacularly Charles will be crowned, however, is the question which the British establishment has been wrestling with for some time, now. With each passing year of the current reign and with each shock wave that reverberates through this uncertain century, the appetite for stunning spectacle in the context of plans for Charles’ coronation seems to dwindle such that one is given to wonder what the thing might actually look like when it at last unfolds. 

If the level of pageantry witnessed during state funeral presents a foretaste of what to expect in terms of solemnity, however, the next coronation may not disappoint, at all.

The current orthodoxy is that the next coronation at Westminster Abbey will much resemble the last royal wedding to occur there (William and Catherine’s…a whopper), at least in terms of duration and pageantry. That would seem appropriate enough, and I imagine few would find themselves particularly exorcised by such a ceremony. It would seem familiar and even contemporary, in a way--the sort of thing, in fact, that royal weddings through the years have by now acclimated us to. 

While the royal wedding template provides something familiar to the public, it also provides the monarchy with a sufficiently regal setting in which to stage the monarch’s inaugural rites so that they may remain what they are fundamentally meant to be.  Going one step further and staging a simple investiture ceremony minus an actual crowning would constitute something of an egregious break from tradition and would, furthermore, seem so anticlimactic after such a lengthy wait that it would, perhaps, disappoint even the most hard-boiled republican watching at home on TV. 

That the ecclesiastical portion of the inaugural rites of Charles and Camilla will take the form of a traditional abbey coronation is scarcely in question, therefore, any more than there is a question as to whether the ceremony will somehow be less spectacular than that of Queen Elizabeth II in 1953. It will be less spectacular, to be sure. That much we know for certain. 

Less spectacular need not mean less poignant, however, nor need it mean that the event will be somehow less interesting to observe. Tradition does not really rely upon romantic spectacle, after all, for value and meaning. It is the tinsel and the glitter which are the variables in such a circumstance and those accidentals may be altered, reduced, or even wholly dispensed with easily enough without negatively impacting the traditional elements of the thing. 

In our starker and more sober post-pandemic age we might not really find ourselves missing all that frou-frou, to be honest, any more than we today miss hula-hoops, poodle skirts, and tailfins. Those who would miss all the glitz and glamour of another era reference nostalgia, after all, rather than tradition.  

Consider, if you will, that much of the non-essential pageantry of post-Restoration coronations was dispensed with as early as 1831 when King William IV--who had bristled at the extravagance of the 1821 coronation of his spendthrift elder brother, King George IV—was crowned in a much-simplified ceremony which excluded, among other things, the procession to the Abbey from Westminster Hall and the subsequent banquet at Westminster Hall. Those events (and that venerable structure) were once considered part and parcel with the coronation rite, itself, though they have never been reintroduced.  

King William nearly had no coronation at all, in fact. Had he not, one can only wonder as to whether or not Queen Victoria—who disliked participating in tiresome ceremonial rituals--might have followed suit. “Silly Billy”, however, was, in the end, persuaded to change his mind, and the coronation ritual has been preserved thanks to him, even though the pageantry of it is greatly reduced from what it was in Georgian times. 

The essence of the ceremony, though, and not the extraneous pomp accompanying it, is what should and will be maintained (with various modifications to suit the times), and one will be able to see it all the more clearly and be drawn into the meaning of it all the more deeply, perhaps, with the smoke and mirrors of the past removed from the ceremony and put away. 

Shorn of much of the razzle-dazzle of the 1953 spectacle, the coronation rite’s medieval fundamentals will be laid bare, so to speak, and will, as a result, make their impact felt the more fully. That will be something to experience. The coronation, furthermore, presented in a rather less glamorous way, will seem, perhaps, less dated than it would seem otherwise and will have about it a rather more timeless quality. 

As to precisely what the coronation of Charles and Camilla might look like, we can only be sure of the most fundamental elements of the order of service as it has played out through the centuries. Beyond that, we may make more or less accurate assumptions of the general atmosphere of the ritual inside the Abbey based upon the way royal solemnities have looked and felt in the Abbey through the years. 

The music will be familiar, many of the faces, likewise, and the structure, itself, will show beautifully on camera as it has in the past. Solemn churchmen and robed officers of state will make their stately progress up the aisle to their places in a way reminiscent, perhaps, of the State Opening of Parliament, and the new king and queen, having been driven to the Abbey in gilded state coaches escorted by the household cavalry, will arrive to the usual fanfare. 

What is not known to the public yet is what the precise details will entail and how those details might differ from past coronations. In the past, for example, in order to accommodate large numbers of invited guests, rows upon rows of tiered seating were erected up and down the nave of the Abbey, within the transepts, and about the quire. The tracks of a miniature railway were actually laid within the Abbey in 1953 for the purpose of transporting all the building materials to their places. 

There has, however, been enough commentary to the effect that the tiered seating will not be erected next time around to assume that nosebleed seats will not factor in the next coronation, but that only as many guests as may be seated on the street level of the Abbey (about 2200) will be invited, just as with a royal wedding. 

Another unknown is whether or not the Abbey will erect the vast carpeted platform between the high altar and the quire which in the past constituted the coronation theatre. Upon this platform traditionally stood the coronation chair and the throne(s) used during the homage rite. Will the platform rise, as it has in the past, or might the handsome stone and marble floor of the Abbey be left bare, the requisite chairs being placed directly thereupon? 

Consider in respect of that question that there has been talk about Westminster Hall being reintroduced to the coronation ceremonies as a venue, not for banqueting, but for a contemporary adaptation of that part of the ceremony known as the “Homage”, for the purpose of presenting it within a more inclusive secular setting. Should the Homage be extracted from the Abbey service, the chairs of homage need hardly be present and in their absence, one might gather that the coronation theatre platform, itself, might be either eliminated or reduced in size. 

Within the coronation theatre (platform or no), one is given to wonder just what might happen next time around. 

If the media reports are as accurate as they are eager, Charles’ head is not the only head which will be crowned. Camilla is going to be crowned queen, the reporting goes, as queens consort have been in ages past. Should Camilla indeed be crowned, it will be the first time such a rite has occurred in Westminster Abbey since 1937 when, while kneeling upon a pre-dieu before the high altar, the late Queen Elizabeth (The Queen Mother) was anointed, then crowned, as consort of George VI. 

The assumption that Camilla will be crowned, however, seems to be based upon the revelation that Camilla is to be gifted the crown worn by the late Queen Mother. Jumping a few yards ahead of the game, perhaps, the media have concluded that that gift can only mean that she will be crowned alongside Charles. 

Perhaps that is precisely what the gift of the late Queen Mother’s crown means. Then again, perhaps not. Elizabeth’s crown, as it happens, has detachable arches and was, after her 1937 coronation, only ever worn by Elizabeth as a diadem. It is altogether possible that Camilla, rather than being ceremonially crowned, will simply attend the coronation already wearing Elizabeth’s crown as a diadem. 

It must be noted that the coronation of a queen following the coronation of the king would only serve to lengthen the ceremony whereas it has been stated that the intention is to significantly shorten it (for some possibly misguided reason). The smarter money, therefore, seems against the coronation of Camilla. Time will tell, however, and further details illuminating the plans may, in fact, come out between now and then. 

The understanding, today, is that Queen Camilla will, in fact, be crowned. 

In an age wherein movies shown in the cinema frequently pass the three-hour mark, however, it could be argued that the drive to drastically shorten the coronation ceremony from its three-hour duration in 1953 may be a plan that is less wise than it might seem at first glance. 

The coronation of a British monarch having not been seen in 70 years, the instinct to rush it when it finally does occur seems a bit off. It is doubtful that spectators would grow bored of it after only an hour or so. It seems rather more likely that such a rare event would tend to captivate both attendees and the viewing audience at home for at least the length of a typical Batman movie. 

Perhaps taking a page out of the playbook of William IV, it is known that Charles intends to be crowned wearing his naval uniform. King William was thus crowned, dispensing with the traditional surcoat, knee breeches, and buckled court shoes. “Reform Bill” had no stomach for all that, and neither, I think, will 21st century Britons. It seems a safe bet, therefore, that the surcoat, breeches, and pumps, last worn by George VI in ’37, will be consigned to the past by Charles and his successors. 

And what of the peers and peeresses in attendance? Their numbers will be very much reduced from the last coronation given the lack of extra seating. Will they don their coronets and coronation robes over court dress as they have done in the past? That seems unlikely given all the chatter about clearing away the things from the 1953 coronation which today seem outdated and over the top. 

Even in 1953, peers under the rank of Earl were permitted to dispense with the coronet, whereas lower ranking peeresses were permitted to substitute for their coronation robes and coronets a simpler “austerity” ensemble designed by Norman Hartnell (which was actually rather chic). 

While some of the peers more central to Charles and Camilla’s coronation ritual may well don the traditional robes and headgear, it seems improbable that they all will. More than likely, peers and peeresses without an actual role in the service will simply wear rented Parliament robes over morning attire or business attire, just as they do during the State Opening of Parliament.  

As to the marshalling of the guests and participants of a coronation, that has been aided in the past by the erection of a temporary (yet elaborate) annexe in front of Westminster Abbey. It was in the annexe that the procession would form prior to entering the nave and making its slow, stately march up the centre aisle to the coronation theatre. Such an expense seems almost unthinkable, now, however. Perhaps event tents will serve the purpose which the structural annexes formerly served. 

While we can rest fairly well-assured that Charles will be crowned, we can only speculate as to which crown he will be crowned with. Will it be the so-called “St Edward’s Crown”, the crown with which Elizabeth II was crowned in 1953? That is, after all, THE coronation crown of England. That’s what they say, at least, but is that accurate? 

It turns out, no, in fact. Not only has that crown no association with St. Edward, whatever (it was minted for King Charles II in 1661), it has also not been used exclusively to crown British monarchs since then. St Edward’s Crown, as it happens, has only been used to crown a mere handful of monarchs. Following the 1689 coronation ceremony of William and Mary, St Edward’s Crown was not used again to crown another monarch for over 200 years. It was only in 1911 that King George V revived the practice of being crowned with that piece, making it very much a 20th century custom. 

Considering that all monarchs of the House of Windsor have been crowned with it, however, it seems unlikely that Charles will not be. The Imperial State Crown, until a few years ago worn by the Queen annually during the State Opening of Parliament, is traditionally worn by the newly crowned monarch when exiting the Abbey. Presumably that crown--created for King George VI and significantly altered for Elizabeth II--will be altered, again, for Charles, to give it a more masculine form (and to better fit his head, of course). 

It may be supposed that Charles and Camilla will be anointed in the context of the Abbey rite but that is not yet known for sure. Of the speculation concerning the ritual of the next coronation, the greater part has had to do with the religious nature of the ceremony. Will it be in the context of an Anglican communion service (Mass), as it has been, or will the event occur in the context of an ecumenicalized ceremony? Or will Britain and the world witness a largely secular event conducted within a sacred space? 

Presumably, the monarch will be crowned by the archbishop of Canterbury, as usual, but will the archbishop also anoint the king? Will the king be anointed at all? If so, will the queen? It will be interesting to see whether that part of the ritual, once considered the most fundamental element of the inaugural rite, is, in fact, maintained. 

Everything about the first days of the reign of King Charles III signals a maintenance of tradition and the status quo. Reports through the years of Charles' predisposition to making significant alterations to the religious aspects of the coronation service seem exaggerated at this point. Charles has accepted the title "Defender of the Faith", for one thing (despite multiple prognostications through the years to the contrary), and has publicly declared his commitment to the Church of England.

Should the anointing occur, it can be safely assumed that mid-century scruples over televising that portion of the rite have long been overcome and that the chrismation ritual will be viewable by everyone out there in TV land as well as those present in the Abbey. Bet, however, on a modified anointing limited, perhaps, to the hands and forehead of the monarch (it will be rather difficult to anoint his breast through a buttoned-up wool naval uniform).  The golden canopy traditionally held aloft of King Edward’s Chair by four knights of the Garter may also have to go if cameras are expected to capture the moment (although not necessarily). 

The traditional coronation robes and vesture also form something of a question mark at the moment. We know what they are and which garments have been worn at which moments in the past, but will they all make an appearance at the next coronation? 

In 1953, Elizabeth II shunned both the crimson and purple surcoats, preferring that her elaborate, one-of-a-kind coronation dress should not be hidden by velvet tunics but fully visible (a sensible bit of regalia editing, indeed). 

We already know that Charles will not be wearing surcoats and breeches at his coronation, but what else might he not wear? One might well imagine that the magnificent (and astronomically costly) satin-lined and ermine-trimmed robe of state of purple velvet, worn only for the monarch’s exit from the Abbey, might well find itself on the editing room floor in the planning stages of the next coronation. 

That particular piece of vesture has always been an unjustifiable extravagance, as it is worn only once, and then, only briefly, and there is little chance of one being specially-made for Charles in the age of animal rights activism. Although it is possible that the used purple mantle of one of Charles’ predecessors might be recycled for the event, the sight of all those dangling ermine tails may offer an optic that causes more trouble for the new monarch than it is worth. 

My current sense is that the sight of ermine tails will not prove much of a concern.

The robe of state of crimson velvet (rather less cringeworthy than its purple counterpart as it hasn’t any dangling animal tails to offend modern eyes) may well pull double duty during Charles’ coronation. It will be interesting to see, again, whether an older model is recycled or if a new one is created for the use of the new monarch. It will also be interesting to see whether Queen Camilla wears one. 

Should King Charles' first state opening of Parliament occur prior to the coronation, that event may well answer this question. 

It will all be interesting, in fact, provided, of course, that the times in which Charles and Camilla find themselves enthroned as king and queen of England are tame enough to permit Britain and the world to focus upon their inaugural ritual. If the pair were to be crowned today, for example, as Vladimir Putin’s missiles rain down upon Kiev, it is conceivable that few would notice and that fewer still would care. 

The war in Ukraine continues, of course, although is not likely to have the impact it had when this piece was first penned. 

The fact of the matter is that Charles and Camilla, when ascending the throne, will likely need to gauge very carefully the mood of the country and the world as the day of their coronation approaches and may need to make day-to-day revisions to whatever plans might be in place as events unfold. Everything, alas, is so touch-and-go in these times. 

What the state of the world will be at the time of the commencement of the next reign is the biggest unknown, of course, although things aren’t exactly moving along a trajectory of improvement as the pandemic seems to wane. The fate of mankind becomes less and less certain with each passing day and with each new headline. 

Just how jubilant the queen’s Platinum Jubilee celebrations this spring will be, given all that is happening at the moment, is now in question, let alone the degree to which the next coronation will be festive. Should the 21st century continue to behave as it has been behaving, however, the next coronation at Westminster Abbey, far from captivating the imagination of the world, may well end-up with a relatively brief mention on page two of your local newspaper. 

The celebrations of Elizabeth II's platinum jubilee were a triumph, and the coronation of Charles and Camilla has every chance of being a triumph, as well. 

Let us hope that things do not come to that. We all hope, of course, that the global situation significantly improves from where it stands today by the time of the Platinum Jubilee celebrations and certainly by the time the next reign begins. Although we might be tempted to remark that things can hardly get worse, history, we know, says otherwise. The state of the planet is the one thing which could, in fact, scotch the coronation of King Charles III altogether, forcing Britain to inaugurate his reign in a much more sober and spartan way. 

Elizabeth II was crowned in the midst of the Cold War, of course, although the Cold War at that time was cool enough to permit the world to revel in such a spectacle. Talk of a renewed cold war today, however, seems a bit optimistic, perverse as it may seem to say so. If a new cold war is all that’s on the way, we may be thankful. 

The war between Russia and Ukraine, however, is anything but cold. We may, in fact, be witnessing the start of a new historical epoch of hot wars waged by unscrupulous, self-serving strongmen at the helms of the world’s major powers, as the democratic West’s post-WWII order begins to dissolve. The days of the Thirty Years’ War and of endless successions of wars upon wars—an era in which the common man becomes but cannon fodder in service to the ambitions of wealthy ruling families--may be making their comeback as our time of liberty, equality, and fraternity…and relative calm…recedes. 

Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps everything will sort itself out better than we have the capacity to hope for at this point and the chimes of Westminster Abbey will, following a splendid peacetime coronation for a new king and queen, joyously ring out to mark another reign…and thereafter, another, and another, and another, for centuries to come, pandemics, cold wars, hot wars, and maniacal Russian despots be damned. 

God save the queen.

God save the king.


THE KINGDOM OF GREAT HANOVER  .  2022




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