The Death of Queen Elizabeth II: The End of the Second Elizabethan Age

I honestly don’t know where to begin – or where this post will end – but I wanted to express a few emotions about the death of Queen Elizabeth II. My experiences and thoughts in this online journal of adventures through life.

Sadly, on the afternoon of 8th September, Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth realms, died peacefully at her home at Balmoral Castle in Scotland.

Rumours had been flying about all day that she was seriously unwell – just two days after she had officially welcomed the newest British Prime Minister who went up to Scotland to meet the Queen, instead of in the traditional Buckingham Palace room which had seen so many Prime Ministers beforehand.

Early in the day I had heard rumours from two different very reliable places – so warned my social media clients without tipping an actual hand – and the BBC pulled all regular programming and dressed their presenters in black tie which spoke volumes, as they announced she was very unwell.

At 6:30pm Huw Edwards sombrely announced that the Queen had died. ‘Operation London Bridge’ – if she passed in England, and ‘Operation Unicorn’ if she passed away in Scotland had been planned for many years – and it was this day, the 8th September 2022 that they were rolled into action.

Living in London, this is a collection of my own experiences and emotions, as a Commonwealth resident living amongst a nation grieving. It just doesn’t seem real.

As the BBC so beautifully express it, the Queen came to the throne in 1952 and witnessed enormous social change. Her son King Charles III said the death of his beloved mother was a “moment of great sadness” for him and his family and that her loss would be “deeply felt” around the world.

He said: “We mourn profoundly the passing of a cherished sovereign and a much-loved mother. I know her loss will be deeply felt throughout the country, the realms and the Commonwealth, and by countless people around the world.”

During the coming period of mourning, he said he and his family would be “comforted and sustained by our knowledge of the respect and deep affection in which the Queen was so widely held”.

Queen Elizabeth II’s tenure as head of state spanned post-war austerity, the transition from empire to Commonwealth, the end of the Cold War and the UK’s entry into – and withdrawal from – the European Union.

We watched the wall-to-wall coverage of events on the news, as ‘Operation London Bridge’ swung into action, transforming London into a sea of police, stewards, crowd barriers and horse parades as the military practised.

Early on a Sunday morning I felt moved to wander down to Buckingham Palace; partially to pay my own personal respects, partially to video the crowds for my family back in New Zealand. It was all friendly and sombre – the queues were busy even at that hour, but completely respectful and moved at a good pace along the pathways snaking around Buckingham Palace.

My favourite ultimate British thing happened when I was queueing on Sunday for Buckingham Palace – some people tried to make a shortcut in the queue, but the police saw them and shut it down. The queue quietly applauded the police officers.

The next day when she landed at RAF Northolt, we felt moved to share our respects & line up along the A40 with thousands of others – all quietly respectful with a tinge of odd excitement. When the outriders appeared, the crown burst into applause (and fired up the mobile phones) as her casket, laid with her standard, came back into London for her last journey.

To say this felt oddly surreal was an understatement – then the cold rain which had held off started to fall. I’ve been lucky to see her in person a couple of times in my life, but sadly this was Mr Kiwi’s first time.

Later in the week, the NZ Society organised an informal wreath laying; we gathered just off Park Lane only to find out that Green Park had been closed off to crowds – we learned this was so she could be moved from Buckingham Palace to Westminster Hall, where her catafalque would lay in State for the public to pay their respects.

She would be surrounded by family & guards – The Queue* would stretch for 5 miles over 5 days as people solemnly filed past. People, including friends joined the queue for up to 12 hours of shuffling forward, to quickly bow/curtsey/acknowledge the catafalque. [*it’s a testament to the British sense of humour that ‘The Queue’ became an entity of its own; someone wrote an Instagram musical, the press were OBSESSED with it, Twitter was alive with hilarious, sardonic posts.]

During this wreath laying/watching the procession in Hyde Park I somehow ended up on the National New Zealand news (in the first slot of the prime night-time TV1 news) after being interviewed by the lovely Joy Reid…

…all to the sound of cannons firing every few minutes.

During this time, official engagements have been cancelled and union flags will be flown at half-mast on royal residences, government buildings, across the Armed Forces and on UK posts overseas. Members of Parliament paid tribute to the Queen, and took an oath to King Charles.

Then, came the day of the funeral. It was declared a bank holiday, and what a pageantry of precision it was. It was breathtaking; from the glorious military uniforms to the sweeping shots of London, from 10am-5pm we were glued to the Telly. Camping overnight to witness it in-person wasn’t something we were keen to do…

…but I had plenty of friends who did, and watching their updates was fascinating. Carefully invited world leaders including the New Zealand Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, gathered together at Westminster Abbey, the streets resounding with the footsteps of carefully orchestrated military personal – including a swathe of Royal Navy ensigns (including 15 women for the first time ever) who pulled her casket, before carefully handing it to the 8 pallbearers.

It was filled with pageantry, but contained moments of in-utterable sweetness;

her (sustainable – a request of King Charles III) wreath containing rosemary, myrtle grown from her wedding bouquet & English Oak
little Princess Charlotte’s feet not touching the ground during the Westminster Abbey service
mile upon mile of the UK public lining the streets & throwing flowers to the passing hearse
then, at Windsor Castle her pony + two of her corgis standing watch to say goodbye [yes, yes, I know they were led there by humans, but the thought put into this is so, so lovely]

It touched my heart. And the dignified, but sad faces of the Royal Family were heartbreaking.

But, I think it would do a disservice not to hold space to acknowledge that her reign wasn’t perfect – there were political, economical and personal choices that affected many, many lives; and she was the [titular] head of this. In death we seem to almost deify people – but no-one is perfect.