Not from the abbey, silly…
I had no intention of witnessing this event. We’re at home in Pawtucket, and were awake at our ordinary time, made breakfast and sat down together, turning on our local news. Always concerned with the weather situation…
Only to tune in as Ms Middleton was escorted down the long aisle of Westminster Abbey. I’ve got to say the live trees were a nice touch.
We didn’t look for another channel.
Now, I’m an American. That means I’m a republican and have no truck with royalty, descendants of mafia thugs who took control of the nation by violence, the current royals little more than parasites on the body politic. And, at the same time, as an American, and feeling the hayseeds in my hair, find myself in awe in the pomp and splendor of the whole thing…
Everyone in place. Everyone remains standing.
At the heart of it all a simple archaic ceremony. Ten minutes? And while I’ve been deeply disappointed in the Archbishop of Canterbury’s willingness to sell gays down the river, and women, in a vain attempt at salvaging the rent in that particular bit of the garment of holy church, I have to admit he cuts a worthy figure at a ceremony like this. Love the hair. And no one does robes better than the Anglicans.
The crowd bringing its own fanciness. Love the hats.
Of course if the royals have a use it is this: pomp and ceremony, showing the nation all is well, even, perhaps, when it isn’t. Our American political system with our head of government being also the head of state does perhaps put too much on a single person. Although I think our current president and family presents a certain vigor and dash that we haven’t seen in quite a while, bringing at least to many of us, a sense of hope in the midst of very hard times. And we see it done at its best here at the heart of the British nation. (Almost said empire…)
I think this wedding has done its duty for the Brits. Let the brand shine.
The ceremony may have been brief, shockingly so to me, although when I thought it all over, the couple were escorted to chairs to listen to a follow up of readings, and music, and a sermon. It looks like the takeaway from the preacher is every wedding is a royal wedding. Oh, and something about Jesus. Just this side of excruciatingly long. More music. The Lord’s prayer. Another prayer, a litany. A blessing. Becoming tedious. Another benediction.
A closing hymn. Can’t go wrong with a little Blake. And oh so Brit…
Another blessing.
A choral benediction.
And then horns and kettle drums announcing God Save the Queen. All cameras on herself. I found myself becoming impatient.
The bridal boquet is handed back to the royal bride, by I assume, her sister, what sounded like guns being fired, blaring horns and the wedding party departs through a door behind the altar. Where I understand they’re signing the register in the chapel of Edward the Confessor during a musical interlude.
On my television some talking heads going on about this and that.
Then various pre-recessionals, including royals and the archbishop.
Blaring horns.
Everyone stands.
The young couple appear.
I thought I heard some cheering. It must be from outside the abbey.
A slow and dignified recessional down the long aisle to music alone.
Love the trees.
It’s a long walk.
And to the doors, thrown wide open.
The light outside is wonderful.
Bells begin to toll.
The couple pause in the doorway.
The crowd goes wild.
Horses appear. A stately open carriage.
The crowd doesn’t stop.
And they’re off…
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In