Two rivers ran through London on Friday. The serene Thames, guardian of the ancient city's 2000 year history, glided silently past the Palaces of Hampton Court, Westminster and Greenwich on its way to the sea. From St. Paul's Cathedral, the dome of which adds such splendour to London's skyline, another river flowed; a river of tears and emotion.
It welled up with the first chord from the Cathedral's great organ. It bubbled over the beautiful Grinling Gibbons choir stalls as the Cathedral choristers in white ruffs and surplices began to sing the American National Anthem. It rippled down the long nave and engulfed Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II as she led 2700 mourners in singing The Star Spangled Banner. It flowed out though the open doors of the twin-towered west portico of Sir Christopher Wren's monumental Baroque Cathedral and down Ludgate Hill, enveloping, as it went, the 13,000 worshippers who stood outside in the pale Autumn sunshine.
It was 12 noon, GMT. London was mourning the innocents of the Manhattan massacre with The Queen and proclaiming the bravery and dedication unto death of the New York Fire Service. It was a moment of unity with America in a shared grief and anger that was watched by millions at home on TV.
The Queen does not sing National Anthems. As Head of State, she stands with lips firmly closed on such occasions. Nor does The Queen show emotion in public. As Britain's Head of State, she maintains a legendary 'stiff upper lip'. People are not encouraged to wave National flags during worship in St. Paul's Cathedral. Friday changed all that. The Queen sang America's National Anthem and later when she led the congregation in singing the rousing Battle hymn of the Republic, (last heard beneath the dome of St. Paul's at the 1965 funeral of our great Anglo-American Knight of the Garter, Sir Winston Churchill), she wept. Earlier, the Stars and Stripes waved proud as the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. George Carey, described from the pulpit the sight of the Statue of Liberty torch rising triumphant above the smoke of Wednesday's dawn in Manhatten; a symbol of "hope and inspiration" in the dark aftermath of horror and suffering.
There are few in the Kingdom who have heard their Sovereign sing. This is a pity. Her Majesty is blessed with a melodious soprano voice, rarely heard beyond the ears of her family and the royal household.
