My Lords, having heard the moving contributions of colleagues yesterday—and I think particularly of the contribution of the Leader of the House, my noble friend Lady Smith of Basildon and the noble and learned Lord, Lord Judge—my wife Janet and I very much wanted to go down to Buckingham Palace and, like so many others throughout our land, pay a floral tribute to Her late Majesty. The mood and what was said and the make-up of the crowd outside Buckingham Palace said everything that ever needs to be said about Her late Majesty.
There was a sense of loss and emptiness, and of people somehow feeling that something that was stable, certain and ever-present in their lives was no longer there—something that was of value to them. Then there was also a sense of gratitude for a life well-lived, one of service and dedication to duty, and there was a sense of gratitude to her and to her family, for whom we must feel particularly at this time, in their personal loss. We have lost a sovereign; they have lost a mother, a grandmother and a great-grandmother. But there was also a sense of gratitude for the joyfulness of her reign and for the grace and beauty that she always brought to her duty. As for the make-up of the crowd, it was international—the embodiment of so many nations. I reckon that all the continents of the world were present there, with everyone feeling that she belonged to them. Yes, she was our Queen, but she was actually, genuinely, the Queen of the world.
I thought particularly, in terms of my own life, of Queen and Commonwealth. I was brought up in the Commonwealth. In the course of her long reign, the Queen made two visits to Ghana, in 1961 and 1999. In 1961, I was a little boy in the dust waving a flag on the side of the road; in 1999, I was one of her Ministers. But it is really the 1961 visit to Ghana about which I just want to say a few words. It was a problematic visit in many ways. There were many, including those on all sides in this House, who said that she should not go, that her life would be in danger and that Ghana was not a place that she should go to or be in. She went regardless. She went because the Commonwealth mattered to her, Ghana mattered to her and Britain’s place in the world mattered to her. She knew that not going would be seen as a snub, would undermine the Commonwealth and would be contrary to Britain’s interest.
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She displayed that courage, perseverance and determination that was so characteristic of her. It is said—and there is no reason to disbelieve it—that she said to her Prime Minister:
“How silly I should look if I was scared to visit Ghana and then Khrushchev went and had a good reception … I am not a film star. I am the head of the Commonwealth — and I am paid to face any risks that may be involved. Nor do I say this lightly. Do not forget that I have three children.”
That was her courage.
She went, and it was an outstanding success. As it happens, my father was Minister of the Interior and worked with Duncan Sandys, of the other place and of this House, to make sure that it was a success in terms of security, because that was their responsibility. It was a success that she herself had brought about. It was a triumph. That, for me, says it all about her political acuity, her courage and her commitment and dedication to the Commonwealth.
The messages have been flooding in. I am a former chair of the English-Speaking Union and I chair the International Council of the Duke of Edinburgh’s International Award Association. We all have several WhatsApp groups these days, and there have been messages from all over the world of appreciation, respect, gratitude and love. She was loved. She was loved here in this House, in the country and around the world.
We bumped into a small group outside Buckingham Palace on that visit yesterday. They were called Christians in Entertainment and happened to be laying flowers at the same time. They had come out because of Her Majesty’s support for charities in the entertainment world and the Royal Variety shows, which we all remember and which she graced on so many occasions. Suddenly, as they were there and laying flowers, they began to pray. They prayed, and all those around us and them joined in that prayer. It was a prayer of gratitude to our God for our late Queen. God bless our late Majesty, and God save the King, as he becomes Head of the Commonwealth, for which she gave all her life’s service.
My Lords, I cannot describe adequately the sadness which I and my family feel at the passing of Her late Majesty the Queen. It is a great privilege and honour to have been given the task of opening the batting, so to speak, for my party in your Lordships’ tributes today, and to be able to give my personal tribute and that of all of us who are involved in the world of horses, in recognition and celebration of this most special and remarkable lady. I ask that your Lordships indulge me while I recount briefly Her Majesty’s passion for the horse and all matters equine. As the Racing Post recently wrote:
“The realm of the horse has lost its best friend.”
I have conducted a lifelong love affair with the horse. Being involved with horses, especially racehorses, was my principal goal, indeed my constant dream, all through my childhood days and beyond. At the age of 17, I went to work as a student for a great teacher of riders, Bertie Hill, a former three times Olympic three-day event rider who had ridden for Her Majesty. Bertie was based at Great Rapscott in Devon, a stone’s throw from the Castle Hill Estate and my noble friend Lord Arran. The Queen had two very special horses with Bertie—Chicago and Great Ovation—and I helped to look after them. That was my first job with horses.
At the forefront, though, was her love of horseracing. She was incredibly knowledgeable as an owner, a breeder and an expert on form and bloodlines. Indeed, her racing adviser, John Warren, is quoted thus:
“If the Queen wasn’t the Queen, she would have made a wonderful trainer. She has such an affinity with her horses and is so perceptive.”
The Queen’s first winner on the flat was Astrakhan at Hurst Park in 1950. The horse was a wedding present from the Aga Khan. Her best colt was undoubtably Aureole, who very nearly won the Derby for her in 1953.
My Lords, it is a privilege to speak today and to add to the tributes we have heard so far the gratitude and respect of the many arts and cultural organisations across the country that benefited from the support and patronage of Her late Majesty the Queen over the 70 years of her reign. As the noble Earl just reminded us, it is easier to picture the Queen and Prince Philip at the races than at the theatre. It is hard to deny that they would likely have felt much more at home in a hippodrome intended for horses than one designed for performance. To my great surprise, I once found myself discussing choreography with the Duke of Edinburgh, but it was in the context of his having agreed to create a dressage display for a charity event. In characteristically colourful language, he shared his frustration at the complexities of combining movement with music, and I secretly enjoyed his grudging realisation that there might be more to this whole dancing business than he had previously imagined.
And yet, her Majesty’s interest in the arts was real and it stretched back across her life. An Arts Council report from 1946 includes a photograph of the Queen attending a concert in Kings Lynn with her mother and paternal grandmother, suggesting, perhaps, that it was they who helped instil her interest in the arts. As Sovereign, she opened and reopened countless galleries, museums and theatres, cutting ribbons and unveiling plaques. She attended no fewer than 35 Royal Variety Performances. The first, in 1953, included the Tiller Girls and Vera Lynn at the Palladium; the last, in 2012, was at the Royal Albert Hall. She was a patron, over many decades, of arts organisations around the country, including orchestras, brass bands and choirs as well as major institutions such as the National, the Royal Shakespeare Company and the Royal Opera House, where I had the great privilege to meet her.
Many of those visits were, of course, formal occasions—occasions on which she was obliged to perform her own role and to dress in costumes and jewellery that rivalled those we wore on the stage. She would come backstage to meet the performers after curtain down and, before the days of mobile phones, we would fervently hope that the official photographers would catch the moment of regal handshake and preserve it for posterity. Perhaps she enjoyed those ceremonial visits—she was far too discreet to let on if not—but they were also part of the life of duty about which we have heard so much over recent days. Yet we also know that, away from the formal schedules, she would occasionally attend performances for sheer pleasure, making unofficial visits to “Billy Elliot” to celebrate her 80th birthday in 2006, and to “War Horse” in 2009. I recall one such private visit to the Royal Ballet, when Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret, the company’s long-standing president, decided she liked one ballet so much that she would come back to see it again, and this time, she would bring her sister too.
My Lords, like most Bishops from these Benches, I have stories to tell; stories of doing jigsaws in Sandringham on Sunday evenings and of barbeques in the woods at Sandringham in the middle of January—I even have a slightly scurrilous story about healing the Queen’s car. Perhaps I will tell it.
I had preached in Sandringham parish church. We were standing outside and the Bentley was there to get the Queen. It did not start. It made that throaty noise cars make in the middle of winter when they will not start, and everybody stood there doing nothing. I was expecting a policeman to intervene, but nothing happened. Enjoying the theatre of the moment, I stepped forward and made a large sign of the cross over the Queen’s car, to the enjoyment of the crowd—there were hundreds of people there, as it was the Queen. I saw the Queen out of the corner of my eye looking rather stony-faced, and thought I had perhaps overstepped the mark. The driver tried the car again and, praise the Lord, it started. The Queen got in and went back to Sandringham, and I followed in another car. When I arrived, as I came into lunch, the Queen said with a beaming smile, “It’s the Bishop—he healed my car”. Two years later, when I greeted her at the west front of Chelmsford Cathedral, just as a very grand service was about to start and we were all dressed up to the nines, she took me to one side and said, “Bishop, nice to see you again; I think the car’s all right today, but if I have any problems I’ll know where to come.”
When I became the 98th Archbishop of York, during Covid, I paid homage to the Queen by Zoom conference. I was in the Cabinet Office; everyone had forgotten to bring a Bible, including me, but there was one there—which is kind of reassuring. Just as the ceremony was about to begin, the fire alarm went off. The Queen was at Windsor Castle, but we all trooped out of the Cabinet Office, on to the road, and were out there for about 20 minutes until they could check that it was a false alarm and we could go back in. When I went back into the room, there was the screen, with Her late Majesty waiting for things to begin again. I do not know why I find myself returning to that image of her, faithful watching and waiting through those very difficult times. That was a very small part of a life of astonishing service.
My Lords, I rise with no sense of provocation in following the most reverend Primate the Archbishop of York, but, when our new King spoke to the country last night, he mentioned a number of new responsibilities for the Prince of Wales and for his wife. He too had taken on a new responsibility from his mother—the Duke of Lancaster. I wear the tie today of the Association of Lancastrians in London because Her Majesty the Queen, throughout her long life, was our patron. Many noble Lords will have been at dinners where the toast was to the Queen, and heard someone in the audience say, “the Duke of Lancaster”. That responsibility as Duke of Lancaster is where I begin my remarks.
In the 1960s and 1970s, I had the honour and pleasure of working for two Prime Ministers, Harold Wilson and Jim Callaghan. Both affirmed what has been said by all the living former Prime Ministers: what a comfort, guidance and help it was to them in doing their job to have the opportunity of an audience with the Queen, with no leaks, briefings or anything else—just the benefit of her wisdom.
The nearest I got to finding out anything about it was when I accompanied Jim Callaghan to visit President Mobutu in what was then Zaire. In advance of our visit, Jim told me that, when Mobutu had come on a state visit to London, he was put up at Buckingham Palace. It was only after he had arrived, and his suite was ensconced there, that they found he had brought a dog with him, which had come through without quarantine for rabies. Jim said that, quite often when meeting the Queen, she would refer to “That dreadful man who nearly gave the corgis rabies”. I wondered how this would be handled when we met President Mobutu. Sure enough, when Jim and the President met, he said, “And how is Her Majesty?” “Very well, Mr President”, said Jim, “She speaks of you often”.
The other memory, which again ties in with the Queen’s interests, is going to a Privy Council meeting at Windsor, after which she kindly invited the three privy counsellors present for lunch. Before lunch she invited us into her study. Two things stuck in my memory. One was that on her desk was a photograph of her sister, Princess Margaret. The other, as has been referred to, was the BAFTA that she won for her performance at the opening of the Olympics. That epitomises two of her strong personal virtues: her commitment to family, and a sense of humour that did not take all of majesty entirely seriously.
My Lords, I was not intending to contribute to the tributes today until last night, when I realised that we are weaving a tapestry that all our memories, recollections and stories can be part of and which other generations can read in years to come, learning from the mistakes as well as the lessons that our generation can contribute in the light of the Queen’s amazing reign. I was her fifth Archbishop of Canterbury. We have had 15 Prime Ministers, but we archbishops seem to endure a little longer than our political colleagues. Long may that endure. However, that means that if you are an archbishop or a bishop, you have very close relationships with the Royal Family.
I see it as like a hive in which there are lots of parts. Obviously there is Westminster, Sandringham, Windsor and the clergy, which together form a generous establishment. That generosity came out in the most reverend Primate the Archbishop’s speech yesterday when he referred to the umbrella. During the Queen’s time she gave access to that. She made us all feel very welcome. This is no longer the Church of England dominating. We have a Catholic presence in this country that is strong and vigorous, and we saw the impressive contribution that our present King Charles has made to Muslim-Christian secular dialogue.
In my decades I had no royal wedding, sadly, and I even missed two baptisms because I was abroad. However, I had more than my fair share of funerals, such as that of Princess Margaret, who became a very dear friend. I anointed her on her deathbed, and my wife Eileen, who is here, was with me on that occasion. I spent a lot of time with the Queen Mother and learned a lot from that very loving and distinguished lady, who died at the age of 101, and I was able and privileged to preach at her funeral service.
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Princess Diana’s death moved me in a very sad way. I saw through her something of the value of a verse in Jeremiah 1 about the role of politics to destroy at times but then to build up. I have to say—I have discussed this with Her Majesty and members of the Royal Family—that I saw Her Majesty’s strong faith and fortitude as she resisted all the destructive power that could have destroyed the Royal Family but which did not because of her strength of character. However, I also saw something that is important for our own time as we now support King Charles III, which is to do with the fourth estate: the power of the press to destroy as well as to build up. I hope that we as part of Parliament can make our contribution to building up, strengthening and getting behind our King, as well as giving thanks to a remarkable woman, but also to say to the press today, “It’s your job also to join us in building up so that we can pass on the real lessons of what it is to be a land that is focused on building up the young and the strong today.” We give thanks to Her Majesty and we pray for King Charles III.
My Lords, ordinarily on such occasions the repetition of words and sentiments can be tedious and unproductive. Too often we hear, “Everything’s been said, but not yet by everyone”, or the House of Lords equivalent, which is, “Everything’s been said, but not yet by me.” However, in the last 48 hours the repetition of such words as duty, service, honour, decency, commitment and dedication does not jar at all; it seems both appropriate and fitting when they apply to the 70 year-long reign of the late Queen Elizabeth. She set a standard and a vector against which all who serve in public life can and indeed should be measured, and we should be profoundly grateful for that example, as well as for so many other things. Indeed, she was the gold standard—the glue that kept a fractious country together when multiple pressures of populism and extremism were tearing, but never destroying, our communal fabric. With our latest Prime Minister and the nation facing serious crises in energy, the cost of living, health and a foreign war, her example of cool, clear thinking is more necessary than ever it was.
As these two days of debate have shown, we all have memories of Her Majesty the Queen, especially those of us who had the opportunity to meet her. My latest one was of returning last year the insignia of the Chancellor of the Order of St Michael and St George by Zoom. I have to say that she was a lot more comfortable with the situation then I was. “Come forward”, she demanded, “I can’t see you”, as I nervously walked towards the screen at the end of the long room.
However, I have another vivid memory, of her visit in 1996 with the Princess Royal to Dunblane after the ghastly murders in the primary school. The noble Lord, Lord Forsyth, was the Scottish Secretary at the time and the local MP. I was his shadow and both a local resident and a parent. We were, at that time anyway, tough political adversaries, but we had been welded together by the tragedy in that small community. We witnessed that day the monarch, with just her presence and simple words, speak to and for a grieving town and indeed a shell-shocked nation. It helped immeasurably to bind some of the gaping wounds of that time, and that was her powerful effect.
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Over the years, she bred and owned so many top-class racehorses. To name a few: Dunfermline, Highclere, Height of Fashion and, more recently, Estimate, Carlton House, Dartmouth and Tactical. A raft of the very best jockeys had the honour of riding for her: Sir Gordon Richards, Lester Piggott, Willie Carson, Ryan Moore, John Reid and many more. Once asked what it was like to ride for Her Majesty, Willie Carson said, “To put on the royal colours makes one feel six inches taller.” That was a rare feat in Willie’s case. Her trainers were the greats of their profession: Sir Cecil Boyd-Rochfort, Major Dick Hern, Peter Cazalet and, these days, John and Thady Gosden, Sir Michael Stoute, Andrew Balding, Michael Bell, William Haggas and more.
National Hunt racing, which is my particular love, is a beneficiary of her horseracing enthusiasm as well, as the Queen has horses with Nicky Henderson and Charlie Longsdon. In the showing world, her favourite show was the Royal Windsor Horse Show, which, like her beloved Royal Ascot, she never missed. The inaugural Royal Windsor Show was held in 1943 to support the war effort financially. Her late Majesty enjoyed many successes there, among her most recent being Wyevale Harry, Balmoral Leia, Walton Highwayman and the Cleveland bay, Hampton Court Ivory.
The Queen was a highly accomplished horsewoman who learned to ride at the age of four on a Shetland pony called Peggy, a birthday present from her grandfather. She continued to ride to the age of 96. She encouraged and helped so many young riders, and indeed produced a daughter and a granddaughter of world-class ability and achievement. Her late Majesty was patron of many of the best agricultural shows and breed societies throughout the Kingdom, including the Welsh Pony and Cob Society and the Royal Welsh Show. She supported many rare equine breeds and bred top-class highland and fell ponies. One of the last photographs I saw of her was choreographed by her stud groom, Terry Pendry. It had Her Majesty standing between a fell and a highland, holding their halter ropes with the most wonderful of magical, radiant smiles spread across her face. She was with her equine friends, to whom she had given so much throughout her life and who had repaid her with total loyalty.
Her late Majesty was the pinnacle of the horse world, and she has her place in equine history as one of the very greatest stalwarts. Thank you, Ma’am, for all you have done. May you rest in peace. God save the King.
So, while her love of the arts may have been lower profile than her passion for horses, her support was steadfast and enduring, and the fact that it was passed on through the generations of her family is another of her many legacies. His Majesty the King is an extraordinary supporter of the arts, across music, dance, visual arts and theatre, and has been patron of some 400 organisations. He is particularly committed to opening up opportunities for young people, encouraging them to fulfil their individual creative potential through participating in art.
Over history, monarchs have always inspired artistic creations, and our late Queen was no exception. Her Coronation included a new composition from William Walton, “Orb and Sceptre”, played alongside a march he had composed for her father’s Coronation. It inspired Benjamin Britten’s opera, “Gloriana”, and a new ballet from Sir Frederick Ashton, “Homage to the Queen”, a ballet I had the opportunity to dance some 40 years later. Surely, no sovereign before her inspired such a diverse range of fictional representations in theatre, on stage, on screen and in literature. Perhaps this is as good a measure as any of the changing times over which she reigned. When she ascended the Throne, the Lord Chamberlain still had the power to refuse a licence to a play that might offend, a power that would remain in place until 1968. While one sometimes has occasion to wonder what the 1950s censor might have made of all this, the creative and sometimes whimsical imaginations of writers from Sue Townsend to Peter Morgan and Alan Bennett have given us a different kind of legacy for an exceptional life exceptionally lived. And as other noble Lords have recalled, Her Majesty had her own sense of performance, deployed to memorable effect at the London 2012 Olympics and, more recently, in that unforgettable and heart-warming two-hander with a virtual bear.
Over the coming days, some theatres and arts venues may close their doors, observe moments of silence or dim their lights. They will do so as a mark of gratitude and respect not just for someone whose patronage was so valued, but whose dedication to duty was the living embodiment of that well-known theatrical adage, “the show must go on”. To some, that may sound too trite for such a solemn occasion, but it is a phrase that came to my mind this week as we witnessed Her Majesty summon the strength, even in the fading moments of her life, to carry out her last constitutional duty: a defining moment of both continuity and change that was echoed today as the Council of Accession met and the proclamation of the new King rang out. The curtain falls; the curtain rises. Thank you, Ma’am, and to King Charles III, we wish every success.
The other thing I have noticed in the last couple of days is that we are all telling our stories. Yesterday, I found myself sharing stories with somebody in the street. I at least had had the honour of meeting Her late Majesty; this person had never met her, but we were sharing stories. I said, “Isn’t it strange how we need to tell our stories? It’s not as if she was a member of our family.” Except she was. That is the point. She served the household of a nation. For her, it was not a rule but an act of service, to this people and to all of us.
I remind us, again and again, that that came from somewhere: it came from her profound faith in the one who said,
“I am among you as one who serves.”
The hallmark of leadership is service, watchfulness and waiting. It was her lived-in faith in Jesus Christ, day in and day out, which sustained, motivated and equipped her for that lifetime of service. How inspiring it was last night and this morning to see the baton pass to our new King, King Charles, in the same spirit of godly service to the people of a nation.
Her Majesty the Queen died on 8 September, the day on which the blessed Virgin Mary is remembered across the world and the Church. Another Elizabeth, the cousin of Mary, said of her when she knew she would be the mother of the Lord:
“Blessed is she who believed that the promises made to her would be fulfilled”.
Shot through all our tributes in this House and another place, and across our nation, is that which we have seen, especially as it was only on Tuesday—I thank the noble Baroness, Lady Bull, for reminding us—that the Queen received a new Prime Minister. Can it really be possible? She served to the end—a life fulfilled.
I will finish with a handful of her words. This is what the Queen wrote in a book to mark her 90th birthday, reflecting on her faith in Jesus Christ in her life:
“I have indeed seen His faithfulness.”
I am not supposed to call noble Lords “brothers and sisters”, but dear friends, we have seen her faithfulness too, and we see it now in our new King. May Her late Majesty the Queen rest in peace and rise in glory. God save the King.
I have one final reflection. I was alone in my office on Thursday evening, with the television on, when Huw Edwards suddenly interrupted what he was saying and said, “It’s just been announced that the Queen is dead.” I was shocked at how sad I was. I have worked around Whitehall and Westminster for over 50 years, and you become fairly hard-boiled to the passing of various personalities around this village. However, I really felt a sadness—I thought, “You’re getting soft, McNally”—but I found over the next 24 or 48 hours that that emotion, that initial feeling that she is gone and feeling sad about it was shared by millions of people in this country and around the world. In a way, that is the biggest tribute to a life of service that any words can convey. It was that we will miss her and that service, that dedication and that example but, in so doing, we know that she has worked so hard to pass that baton on to our new King, so that we can with confidence say, “God save the King.”
Another, more pleasant memory I have is of when, as Defence Secretary, I brought the then Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, Crown Prince Mohammed, to Balmoral to meet the Queen. After our lunch, he accepted an offer from her to see the estate but, boy, was he astounded, coming from a country which banned women from driving, to find the Queen behind the wheel of the Land Rover and rolling off without the rest of the party. I was at the castle entrance when they all came back. She looked at me and said, “I think he thought I was driving too fast.” I said nothing at all. Then she said, “I also think he thought I was lost.” I bravely said, “Well, you can’t get lost. You’re the Queen, and where you are is where you’re supposed to be.” She frowned at me and then said emphatically, “Quite right”, and marched away. Soon after that, the Crown Prince became King of Saudi Arabia, and belaboured every visiting Brit with stories of the Queen’s mad driving.
My final point is to talk about the Queen’s deep loyalty to the Commonwealth; my noble friend Lord Boateng also mentioned that. When she made that famous pledge to preserve and protect the Commonwealth at the point when she took the Throne, it was not some nominal pledge or promise, it was to her a sacred commitment. That passionate commitment to the unique and precious club of like-thinking nations that is the Commonwealth was to matter to her over all her years, especially those years when not a few irritated politicians would quite happily have strangled the organisation. Getting past the Queen, dispassionate and non-partisan as she might well have been, would have required a lot more tenacity and political force than is possessed by any mere politician yet to be born. The Commonwealth survives and thrives because of Her Majesty and her promise.
Last night, as so many have said, the new King spoke to the nation with raw personal feeling about the loss caused by the Queen’s death and what it meant to the Royal Family. It was a moving and incredibly significant address. The fact is, however, that we are all her family, and he spoke for us in our loss as well. He becomes King at a momentous time and we must, with memories of his mother fresh in our minds, wish him the very best in his demanding new role. The family that is his nation is with him.