It was the silence that heralded the Queen’s arrival. Thousands of people who had been noisy and bored moments earlier went utterly mute as they sensed the procession was about to arrive.
The silence was deafening until the ceremonial guards suddenly appeared around the corner, turning from the Mall past my vantage point on the pavement near the Citadel.
At that moment the solemn music of the Queen’s guards washed over everyone as they craned their necks forward to catch a final glimpse of their beloved monarch.
For a brief moment she was hard to find, with her coffin being surrounded on both sides by her ceremonial guards. But as they came closer we saw the riderless horse, a poignant reminder of what Britain has lost.
The next thing we saw was the jewelled crown, just visible over the tall hats of her guards, giving the brief impression that it was floating on air.
Then the draped coffin came into view mounted on a gun carriage and bearing the Imperial State crown alongside a floral wreath. Simple but powerful.
The crowd barely had time to draw breath before two generations of royals were in front of us. Eyes raced to identify them all before they passed. Closest to me was Edward who was marching in lockstep with Andrew, who was wearing a suit rather than a military uniform as befitting his fall from grace.
Alongside him was Anne who has accompanied her mother everywhere since she died, often looking grief stricken, but at this moment, walking behind the coffin, she was composed.
Marching in a steady gait next to her was the new King whose face was fixed in a thousand-yard stare, an inscrutable blend of grief, grit and duty.
Behind the King was the bitter-sweet sight of his warring sons, William in his military uniform and next to him Harry in a suit, reflecting his self-imposed exile from royal duties.
Both of them, frankly, looked miserable as they kept their eyes determinedly fixed on the coffin of their grandmother.
You couldn’t help but feel for them doing this again, 25 years after they walked behind the coffin of their mother Diana when Harry was just 12 and William 15. That time there was no crown on the coffin, just a letter from Harry addressed to ‘Mummy.’
The royals and the guards finally marched past and then suddenly there were three cars. Those inside reportedly included William’s wife Kate and Harry’s wife Meghan, presumably choosing separate cars as befitting their frosty relationship. But the windows were also frosted so no amount of neck-craning could answer the mystery.
And then they were all gone. The procession snaked around the corner into the Horse Guards Parade ground and then out of sight.
For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence as people digested what they had just witnessed. But then someone started to clap. Then someone else, then someone else, until it spread like a Mexican wave, rippling across London with thousands of people bursting into loud applause.
It was a thank you and a goodbye all at once. It was what the people of London came to do, to wait for hours by the road for a chance to witness the passing of their Queen and the end of an era.
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