DIANA, PRINCESS OF WALES
THE FUNERAL 1997
This is written 9 years after the events described – it was a breathtaking 24 hours, as far as I can recall all the thoughts and comments are as they were on the day, not second hand from subsequently watching on television or the countless re-runs down the years
It was a normal Saturday, went over to Rod and Tracey’s house for a few beers and few chuckles…. came back went to bed and to sleep.
No-one had any idea of the events about to take place in Paris… and subsequently the whole of Britain and possibly the world
It started on the Sunday morning – quite early I suspect… Jonathon burst into our room in high dudgeon. “They’ve not put the Herbs on” he wailed “just because that Princess has died”.
Of course, things don’t register that quickly…
“Don’t worry, watch something else”
“huh!”.
Gradually the original comments started to filter through… “Princess” “Dead”… didn’t compute…. had to think about it…. it may have been hours, may have been seconds, but asked the obvious “What?”
He said “the Herbs haven’t been on”… patience, try from a different angle “What Princess?”
“Diana” he replied.
this didn’t seem to make any sense. I must admit though, my first thought was “she’s been taken out by MI5 or someone….” That thought didn’t last many seconds, I’ll never believe that Oswald assassinated Kennedy, or that Steve really beat G4, but I don’t go with the conspiracy theory on this one…. it was a tragic accident caused by the paparazzi and a drunk driver.
So, on with dressing gowns, down to the television news…. the story of the crash in the Alma tunnel, the confirmation that Diana was dead, watching in disbelief…. phoned my mum “have you heard the news?”… she hadn’t…..”stick the tele on” I said
Long silence…. shock…… cant believe it…… “I’m going to ring Pat”.
So it must have been in many an English home that Sunday morning, a day when the world really did go mad, really turned upside down.
Lets be clear…. Diana was no saint….. I never saw her as a saintly figure…. some compared her to Mother Teresa….. no contest…. Mother Teresa was different class. Others compared her to Eva Peron, possibly, but still a million miles wide of the mark.
She was a special person, she was a beacon who affected many lives for the good – the picture of her holding the hand of the aids victim…… the fairy tale Princess (or so it seemed that day in 1981 when we sat on the Mall on her Wedding day. She did a lot for charity, people who knew her all spoke highly of her. She was an English Rose who had many great qualities….she did in the end prove to be a catalyst to change in the institution.
She was also part devil, clearly little connection latterly with Charles, she manipulated the press to demean everything he did and make him the Devil to her Saint…. In protecting her children she did a great deal to jeopardise their chances of ever taking the throne of England. She cynically manipulated the media to look like the victim in all things while her behaviour seemed to be getting worse and worse, heading into the excesses of a C list celebrity out for column inches.
We will never know the truth of it all – no-one who really knows what went on can or will speak without having a vested interest, the truth is lost… but in many ways that doesn’t matter, we are dealing with the events of one day, as they were on that one day.
Whatever else Diana was, she was the mother of the Heir to the Throne’s children, the mother of a future King of England. I’ve never liked my heroes to be perfect… and she certainly wasn’t….. basically she was a creature of extremes – the good bits bordered on greatness, the other side…. hmmm.
We never really said “Shall we go to the funeral?”, as the week went on and the mourning bordered on the hysterical, we just started working out what time to set off, what we would take….. we’d been at the wedding, and knew we had to be at this funeral.
Friday night, 5th September 1997….. driving down the M11, aiming for Stratford to park up at work and catch the tube in to London. Listening to the radio…. the announcer said “if you’re not in Central London now, no point going”…like hell, we wanted to be a part of this event for many reasons. Kept on heading south.
The radio was all talk about Diana, the funeral and the reaction to the Royal Family – they were on a loser whatever they did…. I reckon that a low profile and protect the boys wasn’t so wrong…. but there should have been a broadcast, a statement in the early days, along with an explanation of their thinking – as we were on the road the Queen’s broadcast finally was made – a good broadcast, carefully crafted, avoiding cloying sentiment and lavish praise which would not have been credible, but none the less, retrieving the situation to some extent.
During that drive came the other massive announcement of that week, My memory is that Peter Allen, in his calm measured way, delivered the lines “In this week of weeks , it has been announced that Mother Teresa has died in Calcutta”. Well… you could hardly believe it…. I seem to recall swerving, I seem to recall virtually every other vehicle on the raod doing the same.
We left the car at work and headed for the tube. It was a normal Friday night, the boys in the pubs raucous and getting drunk, a normal day. We got on the tube and everything seemed normal, a fight broke out, a normal Friday night in East London… eventually the miscreants were removed and we carried on. Changing tubes in Central London was the first time that the enormity of what was happening… there was a different feeling on the platforms, sombre, quiet, but very calm.
We got on the train to Green Park…. got off, and walked towards the exit on the Park…. we were now walking in a historical moment…. there were people wandering around, looking lost, looking desolate, some with flowers, some without, everyone unsure what to do…. it was around 9:30 on the Friday night….
We walked across the park….. you had to be there….. you had to see it….. you had to smell it…. to feel it….. what we had seen on TV, and what we have seen since did not come close….. there was a pool of light on the Mall – lighting had been rigged up to guide the people through the crowds and to light the paths to the toilets and food and drink sellers…. the smell was mind boggling a sweet heavy haze from 10’s of millions of flowers, of candles, of incense . No words can describe it, you had to be there…..
The first view along the Mall, thousands upon thousands of people - some standing, some sitting, some lying down, some wandering around,. Very very quiet…. very very calm….. and candles…. candles….. candles….. so many, so many. The front of the Palace, by the railing, flowers waist high or more across the whole pavement…. down the mall, everywhere, flowers, flowers, candles…. pictures did not convey it, you had o be there….. There were teddies with messages scribbled on envelopes,… notes, playing cards….. yes, the queen of hearts….. sounds tacky… wasn’t, you had to be there….
Walking along the Mall, near the barrier, there are two middle aged women taking up a lot of space, but a small gap to their side. We speak to them
“Hi, is anyone else here, can we share this bit of barrier with you”.
“Aye, course you can, there’s plenty of room”
We stand there, bemused, and get into conversation with them, they’re Geordies down from Newcastle. Ordinary people like us, drawn to the Mall. We talk to the two lads on the other side…. quite young guys, they are over from Belfast… they said they just knew they had to be there.
Two couples arrive and stand behind us, older people, retired I guess, they prove to be from the East End, but not the typical cartoon East Enders, at least not tonight. We all talk together, comparing notes of other state occasions we’ve been to, or seen, talking about Diana, about Charles. The views are fairly even, none of the vitriolic “Diana is a Goddess, the Royals are Scum” sort of stuff that has graced the media all week…. again the media have portrayed their prejudices rather than public opinion…. no entirely, there is a great deal of anti-royal feeling in the country caused by taking sides between Diana and Charles… but how much stirred up by a biased media we will never know.
Whatever, my experience of this night is people mourning for Diana, not using it to cast a swipe at the Royal Family.
The night is cold, very cold, we take it in turns to lie down and have a sleep… we have a couple of stools, we share them among our new friends and all take turns.
We also take turns to go for a walk, to look at the tributes while our friends keep the spaces …. you would have to have no soul not to be touched or shed a quiet tear looking around… the night is cold but calm, everyone is
peaceful and friendly, everyone reads the cards, the memorials, the tributes, some weep openly, some blink back tears, others wipe their eyes…. and me… well, that’s for me…. you had to be there……
We go back and sit down again, the East Ender guy goes for a walk, comes back laden with coffee for everyone, we share our sandwiches, the Geordies have cakes, it is like a loaves and fishes job, everyone has a bit of something,
then we all settle down to try to get an hour or two…. some hopes….
By six o’clock we have spent what, oddly, is one of the pleasantest nights ever, the peace and calm everywhere, mingled with the choking sweet smell of the flowers, candles and incense is intoxicating, everyone is calm and at peace, but starting to get the feeling of why we are here, not doom, not mournful, but there’s a quiet air of sadness in the air, you can see it, as the Police make sure that everyone is waking up and getting prepared.
The technicians are testing the OB units on the Mall. As six o’clock becomes seven o’clock becomes eight o’clock we are incredibly cold. The radio tells us that the sun is up and London is waking to a sunny and warm morning – not on the shady side of the Mall it ain’t…..
The day gradually warms up, gradually we are taking off coats, everyone is, and starting to lean on the barriers, there’s still two hours to go, and another hour or more until the cortege reaches us… there’s not much talk now… the Mall is quiet, one or two have radios, so we are listening to the preparations on the radio…. it is going to be something most of us have never experienced before. We are all lost in our own thoughts. I don’t know what Jane is thinking… I’m thinking this night has actually been much pleasanter than the night before the wedding – more unification in the crowd, we’re all together, not in our own groups this time. I’m wondering how I’m going to react when the coffin comes by, I’m wondering just what the day has in store for me…
It’s Ten O’clock, the muffled bell of Westminster starts to toll, an aching sound, counting out the minutes, the mood changes, everyone moves from the slumped. draped postures to stand up look towards the Constitution Hill from where the cortege will be approaching us…. but there’s an hour or more to go yet….
We see Prince Philip in a car going towards Clarence House… we realise he is going to walk behind the coffin…. we see the Queen Mother go the other way…. she will be going to the Cathedral.
The procession of disabled, people go proudly by towards Clarence House…. touching moment, emotions are now getting stretched, there are people holding onto one another, everyone is supporting their neighbour… the East End couples are standing in silence behind us, the Geordie women looking blankly towards Constitution Hill, the Irish lads just muttering
“I cant believe it, I cant believe it”
The cortege is now moving, we hear the radio, professional presenters are struggling to keep their composure, there is no sound from the crowd, suddenly, from the radio, a cry of “Diana” it changes again, everyone is focused now, the commentator on the radio, I think it was Jane Garvey, is struggling to say something intelligible through the tears, it seems to affect everyone, there’s certainly a lot of blinking and rubbing of eyes going on now.
Eventually, after what seemed to be many days, the commentators are describing the cortege reaching the Wellington Arch… I remember Jane saying “We’d better switch the radio off now”
Yes, everyone with radios had now switched them off, the only sounds to be heard were an occasional sob and the tolling of the bell…. there is a massive expenctancy now… we are on the very edge… we know that the cortege is now only minutes from being in view….. I have no idea of the emotions in my head, let alone anyone else at this stage. Its like every has breathed in and holding their breath ready for the emotional onslaught we anticipate as the coffin comes close.
The barriers are actually in the middle of the road…. we are conscious that the crowd opposite are very close…. that the officials have left the narrowest possible channel for the cortege to go through.
The Police are lining the route, they are all standing facing the crowd, but not really looking at the crowd. It isn’t necessary on this day. Some officers are standing to attention, others heads bowed. Many of the officers are openly carrying firearms, after everything else it doesn’t seem unusual, but the Police have done a great job, as ever at these state occasions, looking out for people who are not well, and helping those who need it.
Craning my neck as far as possible, suddenly, in the Mall, a movement, a flash of colour, the cortege is now in view….
You can hear the sobs, the cries, the moans, moving down the Mall with the cortege, then approaching, the first real view….. shit, it takes your breath away……
But the first thing we see is a line of mounted Police, behind them the soldiers, in the short dark tunics with the gold braid – in many ways not as spectacular as the Blues and Royals or Household Cavalry, but really smart – I always like this uniform, really elegant and distinguished…… behind the horses comes the gun carriage, with the coffin….. at this range it is just like a picture, but it gets closer, closer, the moans and cries are moving along the Mall in parallel with the coffin….
The Police line is now level, now the soldiers… a girl behind sobs, someone opposite yells “Diana” the coffin is in front of us…. we can clearly see the lilies and the cards on the front, we can even see the writing on the envelope…. cant read it but it’s there…. the coffin, draped in the flag….. on the gun carriage…… it looks so simple, so elegant, so tragic…… it is now that you start to think that whatever the story, this is the funeral of a young woman, in her mid thirties….. you shouldn’t be dead at that age….. and she was a beautiful woman…. the enormity strikes….. you cant help it, there are tears…..suddenly it has gone….. the people beyond us to our left are now going through the same emotions…. the sighs and cries are moving away to our left….. is it over……..
As the bells continue to toll, the coffin is heading to the Abbey for the service…. some radios are on again, we hear commentary on the rest of the procession….. It sounds the same as the earlier bits…. , but the cortege has been rolling some 90 minutes now, another 30 to go to the Abbey.
After the coffin has gone from view, we all look blank… we are all spent…. some remain standing, others sit down on the ground, everyone holds onto the person they are with, you still find time to hold the hands of others nearby… everyone feeling the same things, the same emotional exhaustion, sharing the moment – the strangers all around are friends now…. the Irish lads just stand there, the East Enders stand holding onto each other , the Geordie women are looking blankly to each other…. we sit quietly…. looking at each other but not really seeing each other….. but still comforted by each other…..
Finally the coffin arrives at the Abbey, we hear about the Welsh Guards who have walked beside the gun carriage lifting the coffin…. then suddenly the public address system on the Mall bursts into life and the music from the Abbey fills the Mall…. I cant remember what it was, but we are now listening o the funeral service
But that is skipping on a bit too fast….. rewind some five minutes….. there’s been talk about lowering the flag over the Palace… that cant happen, the protocol is that when the Monarch is in residence the Royal Standard flies at the top of the pole… and the Monarch is now in residence. Even in the event of the death of the Monarch the Standard flies high in honour of the new Monarch… “The King is dead… Long Live the King” (Here come the new boss… same as the old boss).
I’m looking around idly, feeling a bit vacant I suppose, looks like every else is, slightly lost and bewildered, the sights are over, all remains is to listen to the service and then roll up the memories and take them home to store with the others. But hang on….. the flag slides down the flagpole….. there’s an audible gasp… looking in disbelief as the Union Flag rises to the top of the flag pole, catches the one bit of breeze and flies out in its full glory before subsiding slowly to half mast…… this is the gesture everyone wanted from the Queen… totally against everything English of course, but…. after this week the bizarre is normal and things are changing in the country.
It was a great great moment… gradually every realises what has happened, what it means, you cant calculate all the implications of that one gesture…. it is boundless
Back to the service, a lovely service, the music, readings by religious leaders, her family, Blair (nothing is perfect…). I cant really remember the sequence of the readings and music, but I think it was straight after Blair…. we’re sitting down now, I’m on the floor, Jane on a stool. I’m looking upwards at Jane then the tree against a glorious blue sky…. We’re all starting to feel somehow healed, somehow ready to carry on….
Suddenly, out of a brief silence, delicate but clear piano notes…. t is the new version of Candle in the Wind being sung by Elton John. Now I always loved the original song, which was about Marilyn, We’d seen the lyric to this in the morning paper…. cant always tell about lyrics from reading them in the paper…. the the piano introduction sent shivers down the spine…. then the voice (ok, not everyone’s cup of tea…).. but the first line “Goodbye England’s Rose….”.. it hits the mood perfectly…. the song progresses…. the tree goes out of focus…. goes blurred…. the song continues, tears flow easily….. the song is perfect for the moment…. Elton’s voice appears to falter… will he crack…. voice recovers… he’s held it together and got through it…. more than can be said for most of us sitting out on the Mall. The song has hit the spot…. the emotion is staggering… you can see the emotion in the air… it’s got to everyone without fail…. it’s a performance and an emotion I don’t think I can ever experience again…. it’s a unique moment….
But then, along comes Earl Spencer…. delivering his eulogy…. as he starts you are thinking what’s he talking about…. you then start thinking “god you cant say that here and now”. It’s clear that though the speech is rehearsed it is straight from the heart… it is so impassioned….. as you sit there still reeling from ‘Candle’ the guy has got you hook line and sinker…. it’s almost like Saruman…. you know he is telling the absolute truth with a heart-stopping passion.. the crowd, one by one, rises to its feet, we are all up and behind the man…. this is mesmerising….. gradually, we realise he has finished, presumably in the Abbey he’s walking back to his seat… on the Mall there is an open mouthed silence followed by the applause that is now ringing around from the whole funeral route, and for all we know into the Abbey itself. This is unprecedented… a totally unbelievable response to a funeral eulogy….. this has been some day.. you could never have believed the feeling sitting out there hearing Elton John and the Earl Spencer… you had to be there, words cannot express the depth of emotion, not just in individuals, but across such a massive crowd… you really had to be there.
As the service draws to a close, the speaker announces a minutes silence…. it may be a daft comment but I have never heard such an intense total silence, and in such a huge throng…. the silence is total, absolute…. nothing stirs…. we all stand and look at the floor, or close eyes – holding tightly to whoever you are with, or closest to… after the silence I look up, at the Mall… in front of me is a young female Police Officer – she has her face buried in a huge white handkerchief – often wondered if it was hers or if someone gave it to her – but it was as big as her… she was shaking with sobs… close by a grizzled Officer, openly carrying a handgun… stands in silence, not wiping away the tears that glisten on his cheeks… the Police haven’t been needed this night… no problems, no crime, just countless millions gathered to say farewell to the fairytale Princess for whom it all turned so sour.. so tragically…
the Police have stood separate from the public inside the cordon, but nonetheless have been part of the multitude, sharing the day, sharing the emotions, it has been something of a unifying, a coming together.
Some time later, the funeral over, the coffin is in the hearse making it’s way back through Whitehall, back along the Mall, past where we stand to give a last lingering look and a last farewell then its over, the last image on this night and day of incredible images and emotions, a hearse moving through the throng, and gathering flowers on the roof and bonnet every inch along the way.
Then its gone.. its over… we make our way slowly from the Mall towards the tube for the journey back to Stratford. London is unreal… millions on the streets walking back to wherever… virtually no traffic, virtually no buses, no noise, just millions of tired and spent people wandering along, some with a purpose, others probably not.
Once back on the tube, some sort of normality kicks in…. but not for long… we get back to Stratford and walk back to the car… don’t pass anyone along the way…. in the car again, we set off for home… we’re due to go to a Last Night of the Proms tonight….. we head out through Stratford to the M11…. we’re listening to commentary on the journey home to Althorp and burial.. it seems everywhere there are thousands pouring yet more flowers onto the hearse….it seems the whole world was either along the funeral procession or the M1…. unprecedented… we hear that the crowds have spread onto the M1 and virtually block it…
Meanwhile, we head north on the M11, PAST Cambridge, onto the A14 PAST Huntingdon then into Rothwell and to the next little town…. its not far from Market Harborough… we stop there at the chip shop for something to eat…. we haven’t seen a single vehicle or person since leaving Stratford until we get into the chip shop….. obviously this has been a momentous day….
Really this is the end of this memoir….. but maybe worth tagging a couple of other tales from the day…
As I said earlier, we were heading off to a Last Night of the Proms concert at Belvoir Castle…
The idea was to go straight on to Belvoir from Home, basically in, quick change and off….. didn’t work out like that…. went in and fell asleep, only had about an hour, it helped…. I had now had just under 2 hours sleep in the last 36….. not much really.
Off we went to Belvoir, still high from the day…. still emotionally charged….. had to stop on the way to get some petrol, so stopped in a petrol station somewhere in the country…. filled the car, went into the shop to pay - cant remember exactly how much it was, but the girl at the till asked for, say, £8… I looked at her, said, “no that’s wrong”….. she said that “it wasn’t” suggested That she check again…. she did, actually checked a couple of times… said “oh… it’s £18 not £8…. thank you so much for telling me, I’d have had to make it up out f my own pocket” – rushed round and gave me a hug…. it was that sort of day really…
Got to the concert late in the end… missed the silence and tribute to Diana – disappointed but probably couldn’t have faced another.
Drove home afterwards – now had 2 hours sleep in the last 41….. so tired… fell asleep at the wheel…. only time its ever happened…. truly frightening when you realise….
There it is ….. we went to the Mall to witness the funeral of Diana Princes of Wales – she was the mother of two boys who are heir to the throne, she had been a Royal Princes…. we had been on the Mall for her wedding…. she was demon and saint…. as Earl Spencer said, she was Diana.
Nothing can fully explain the emotion and feelings of the day….. you had to be there…. no-one who was there will forget what they saw and experienced on that day……
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