‘You’ll think we’re just dotty old people’ self-deprecating Queen Elizabeth told me

Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh chat while watching a musical performance in the Abbey Gardens during her Golden Jubilee visit to Suffolk in 2018. Picture: Getty Images.

It was the habit of the Queen, when hosting guests at Windsor, to take them after dinner to the magnificent library of the castle and show them something of relevance to them. On such an occasion, when I was leader of the opposition, she produced the letters exchanged between one of my cherished political ancestors, Disraeli, and her own great personal ancestor, Queen Victoria.

These letters are fascinating in themselves, particularly as Victoria admired Disraeli and loathed Gladstone, showing a strong preference for who her prime minister might be from which today’s monarchy has wisely moved on. Yet the fact that I, as a young party leader, could sit with the Queen, poring over such letters, jointly deciphering the handwriting and reflecting on the changed nature of royal and political leadership is one tiny example of the astute work of an assiduous constitutional monarch.

Much has been made, rightly, in the past few days, of the importance of the weekly audience between prime ministers and their sovereign. But upholding the “constitutional principles” affirmed by King Charles III in his first address to the nation involves maintaining personal links with the loyal opposition, as his immediate meetings with political leaders demonstrated.

Serving eventually as her foreign secretary, I travelled with the Queen on state visits and experienced at first hand her humour, hard work and diplomatic prowess. Returning with her and the Duke of Edinburgh from visits to the UAE and Oman, my wife Ffion and I were invited to have lunch with them – the first-class cabin of a British Airways plane having been converted to a dining room for the purpose. Thinking at first that it might all be very formal, I will never forget the Queen telling stories, being genuinely funny and self-deprecating, and exclaiming after endless witticisms from the duke: “Mr Hague, at this rate you will think we’re just dotty old people.”

Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip ride along the Mall in an open top car on their way to watch a parade in celebration of the Golden Jubilee in 2002. Picture: Getty Images.

No, Ma’am, I naturally hastened to say, I didn’t think that at all. Far from it. They had just completed, at the ages of 84 and 89 respectively, a gruelling set of visits with long-haul flights, late-night banquets and several days packed with visits and ceremonies, without ever putting a foot wrong or making a misplaced remark. As a result of such professionalism and her longevity, such visits were prized among the host nations as the very pinnacle of global honour and recognition.

On another occasion, at Buckingham Palace, I was ushered in for an audience with Her Majesty to brief her on a security matter, to find she was looking out of the window at the last stragglers to leave that day’s summer garden party. These late departers, no longer sure what to do with their cups or glasses, could be seen hiding them under a plant or in the bushes. They would have been horrified to know that their Queen and foreign secretary were watching them from behind a curtain and remarking on each ill-mannered act. She sat down with a knowing smile, born of long acquaintance with her errant subjects.

The serious side of such meetings left no doubt that the Queen unfailingly read through her daily box of briefings. She was always familiar with the background to any major issue. Armed with recollections of discussing foreign affairs with Churchill and Eisenhower, virtually nothing could surprise her.

Queen Elizabeth strokes Candy, her corgi, as she looks at a display of memorabilia from her Golden and Platinum Jubilees earlier this year. Picture: AFP.

On her fifth state visit to France, in 2014 – from which I treasure the memory of the citizens of that deeply republican country shouting “Vive la Reine!” – she recalled the details of the previous visits, spread over six decades, while conducting the discussions in beautiful French. When President Hollande saw a copy of the speech she would give at his banquet, he told his staff to prepare a new one for him – he needed to raise his game.

I witnessed President Obama, a phenomenal speechmaker, visibly nervous at speaking in front of her. When President Trump came to Buckingham Palace, his family told me they had never seen him so concerned about doing and saying things correctly in his life. Yet the diplomatic achievements of the Queen went far beyond keeping such very powerful people on their toes. Her state visit to Ireland in 2011, as the first British monarch to set foot there since partition, set the seal on a quarter-century of governments’ efforts to build a close bilateral relationship, and was a flawless display of personal charm and acute political sensitivity. After she arrived on the first day to a tense atmosphere, by the fourth and final day I could hardly believe my eyes as huge crowds in Cork waved Union flags and cheered the British Queen.

The Queen and Prince Phillip drive in a open top car at a special Diamond Jubilee event in the grounds of the Stormont Estate in Belfast. Picture; AFP.

William Hague, then Tory leader, with Queen Elizabeth.

Such scenes are the answer to the frequent observation that the modern British Crown has no power. The power to make political decisions has, of course, passed to democratically elected ministers, but power takes many forms. The United Kingdom benefits greatly from the power of a respected monarchy to elevate a commitment to the highest level, to give the strongest possible seal of approval to the work of others, to show beyond doubt that a dispute is over, or a friendship renewed – and that was what we were seeing in Ireland that day. The Crown is an asset of incalculable importance in any successful British foreign policy.

Countries that do not have a monarchy cannot invent one. In this country, however, we are lucky to have a focus of loyalty that allows politicians to do their grubbier jobs democratically but without getting too big for themselves. Here, any political leader who attempts to remain in office despite losing an election will get short shrift.

The Queen with her red boxes in Sandringham House, Norfolk. Picture; AFP.

Above all, we benefit from a sense of long-term stewardship, which is one of the most inspiring aspects of the long life and reign of Queen Elizabeth II. In a world where many people measure their success by instant results or statistical targets, her life reminds us that the careful stewardship of great institutions, even while they change, is of vast importance to human society, giving people a pride in their work or their country that goes beyond financial reward. The Queen who took the trouble to bring out Disraeli’s letters and discuss their significance with me will be a towering inspiration for the rest of my life.

It is a lesson for many of our formerly great institutions. We can all think of parts of local government, or Whitehall, or even major companies or police forces, where the ability to combine stewardship with change, to move with the times while representing continuous excellence, seems to have been lost. This is a time to reflect on such lessons; to learn from the life, as well as mourn the passing, of a Queen we loved so much.

The Times