TRUE TO TRADITION
Historical novelist Jack Jewers reflects on the parallels between the coronations of King Charles III and King Charles II
MORE than 20 million of us here in the UK – and an estimated 400 million people worldwide – tuned in to watch the Coronation of King Charles III. Broadcast live from Westminster Abbey on 6 May, the event was quite the spectacle, rich with ancient pageantry That makes it all the more surprising to learn that it’s completely unnecessary Charles became King the moment his mother passed away We could have crowned him with a paper hat from a Christmas cracker if we’d wanted to. Or not at all.
Of the 12 countries in Europe that still have monarchies, Britain is the only one still to bother with a coronation. So what was the point?
One word: tradition. The ceremony is a direct connection with royal history that stretches back a long way Areally long way in fact – the earliest English coronation ceremony was that of King Edgar, who was crowned in
Bath in the year 973. The oath Charles recited was essentially the same as the one Edgar took. The choir sang a liturgy in Latin that hasn’t changed since 1327. The chair in which Charles sat has been used in every coronation at WestminsterAbbey since 1300. Did you notice the graffiti etched into the wood? That’s been there since the 1700s, when leaving your mark on the ancient chair was a popular attraction for tourists. Like all traditions, the history of the coronation gives it power And never more so than at the coronation of the King’s distant ancestor and namesake, Charles II (1630-1685). For that Charles, the coronation was a matter of survival. Charles II was crowned on 23April 1661. At that point, England had already been torn apart by a brutal civil war between King and Parliament. Charles I was beheaded and his son fled into
exile. The country was governed as a republic for a decade, mostly under the leadership of Oliver Cromwell But after Cromwell’s death in 1658, the turbulent republic couldn’t hold together, and Parliament began secret negotiations for the return of the king. We know a surprising amount about the preparations for Charles II’s >
restoration, due to the work of one man – the most famous diarist in English history, Samuel Pepys (1633-1703). I became immersed in Pepys’s world when researching my novel, The Lost Diary of Samuel Pepys I had to imagine what he did next after putting down his pen in 1669, at the age of 36.
In my novel, he becomes an investigator for the crown, drawn into a dangerous mystery that could ignite a war in Europe. It was great fun to write, but the actual story of Samuel Pepys was filled with real-life drama. He had a front row seat at some of the biggest historical events of the century, including the Great Fire of London. In 1661, he was part of the delegation sent to bring Charles back to England as king.
Not everyone welcomed the return of the monarch, but Londoners turned out in force to show their support as the king made his way to the coronation. Pepys describes how Charles processed to Westminster Abbey through streets lined with cheering crowds, although he neglects to mention that the procession went past the Banqueting House on Whitehall. This was where a teenage Pepys had skived off school to watch the old king’s execution.
Efforts were made to display a Britain that was more inclusive and diverse
Pepys’s description of the coronation conjures its majesty and splendour
And a great pleasure it was to see the Abbey raised in the middle, all covered with red, and a throne (that is a chair) and footstool on the top of it; and all the officers of all kinds, so much as the very fidlers, in red vests: At last comes in the Dean and Prebends of Westminster, with the Bishops (many of them in cloth of gold copes), and after them the Nobility, all in their Parliament robes, which was a most magnificent sight.
No mention of Penny Mordaunt with a sword, but otherwise that all sounds quite familiar, doesn’t it? And yet, the Coronation of Charles III was also unique in certain ways. Efforts were made to display a Britain that was more inclusive and diverse than the institution of monarchy may suggest. One of the most symbolic moments was the procession of non-Christian religious leaders, featuring representatives of the Baháʼí, Buddhist, Hindu, Jain, Jewish, Muslim, Sikh, and Zoroastrian faiths. This was a moving symbol, especially in the middle of a building that has itself been at the epicentre of religious conflict – and sometimes brutal oppression – over hundreds of years.
Certain elements of the service were scaled down. The guest list was a comparatively restrained 2,000 (a little over a quarter of those at the coronation in 1953).Afew of the gaudier traditions, such as the handing over of gold ingots to the new monarch, were done away with all together At a time of real hardship for millions of people, with a devastating cost of living crisis and inflation running at over 10 per cent, it was judged unwise to lean too far in to big displays of excess. In 2023, tradition is really a matter of politics. Just like it always has been.
England’s most famous diarist Samuel Pepys put his pen down for the last time in the summer of 1669 – or did he? The Lost Diary of Samuel Pepys is Jack Jewers’ swashbuckling period drama that reimagines “what happened next” in the extraordinary life of Samuel Pepys.
The Lost Diary of Samuel Pepys is published by Moonflower Books. Out now in Paperback and eBook, £8.99.