Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Baroness Benjamin Excerpts

Friday 9th September 2022 Lords Chamber

There are two bricks in the cathedral church from which I travelled to the House this morning, two among the very many bricks for which tens of thousands of Surrey residents—and many others too, my grandmother included—paid 2/6 to see Guildford Cathedral, the Cathedral Church of the Holy Spirit, erected. They bear the signatures of Her Majesty the Queen and His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh, a reminder of one of several visits they paid to the cathedral and very many to the town and county. Perhaps it was providential that when we gathered there earlier this year to celebrate the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee, it was on the day of Pentecost, the festival when Christians celebrate the coming of God’s Holy Spirit. This spirit empowered Her Majesty to live the life she lived through every annus horribilis and every annus mirabilis of the past 70—indeed, the past 96—years. As others have expressed, may she indeed rest in peace and rise in glory.

[Baroness Benjamin (LD)]

My Lords, I start my tribute to Her Majesty the Queen by expressing my deep sadness and condolences to the Royal Family for the loss of Her Majesty: a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. All our thoughts are with them.

The word “icon” is banded around quite freely these days, but Her Majesty the Queen was truly a global, iconic monarch who personified everything the people of this country and around the globe truly admired and loved. Her dedication to duty and unflinching devotion to her people and the Commonwealth was, to use a modern term, awesome. When you think about it, we will not see another woman on the Throne for maybe 100 years. We have all lived through unbelievable history.

Her Majesty lived through wars, disasters, floods, political and social upheaval, and incredible technological changes. Yet she had a way of embracing change seamlessly, with easy curiosity, fun and joy. You could see that when she introduced the Invictus Games, with her grandson Prince Harry, online. She was a role model for those who needed to be inspired never to give up and practised consideration, commitment and unconditional love to others.

She was an important pillar of strength to children over the last seven decades and represented something constant in their lives. Many young children wanted to grow up to meet her one day. She gave them that sense of pride which is so important for the human soul and spirit, which young people need. I grew up in Trinidad in the Caribbean in the 1950s and as a little girl sang “God Save the Queen” in the school playground every day. Never did I dream that one day I would meet her, but I had the honour of doing so. I first met her in 1995, when I was president of the Elizabeth R Commonwealth broadcasting fund, which was set up with funds she donated from the royalties of the BBC programme for the 40^th anniversary of her reign and which hundreds across the Commonwealth have benefited from.

The meeting I remember most fondly was when she visited the University of Exeter for her Diamond Jubilee in 2012. She was overwhelmed, touched and thrilled by the rapturous reception she received from the thousands of students who came out to greet her on that memorable day. It made her smile; she gave one of her famous smiles all through the visit. As chancellor, I had the task of hosting her. It was then that I got a glimpse of the true character of this remarkable woman. It was like having a masterclass in people skills. She loved to indulge in finding out about everything and in a short time I had to judge who she wanted to find out more about and when she wanted to move on. The signal of that famous handbag meant so much. When she met someone from the Commonwealth, she exuded excitement and interest and had so many questions she wanted to ask them. You could see that this filled up her knowledge bank. She was like a walking encyclopaedia; she knew everything about everything solely because she took an interest in people. She had a great sense of empathy and embraced differences with ease.

She arrived in Exeter at lunchtime and had read every single newspaper, including the Racing Post, because she quoted from them. During our conversations I could tell how much she loved her family by how she spoke about them in the way that any proud mother would. You could tell how much she loved her own mother by the excitement she showed when I showed her where her mother had signed the visitors’ book at the University of Exeter. Her reaction was delightful—so girlish, childlike and wonderful to see. We chatted and shared stories about everything, including faith and forgiveness, which were qualities she told me she admired in Nelson Mandela. We spoke about children and education, which were so important to her. We spoke about fashion—she was a fashion icon—and about food and her famous barbeque.

She had a great sense of humour and her blue eyes twinkled mischievously when she shared a funny story with you, which you felt privileged to hear. Those are unforgettable memories that will stay in my heart for as long as I live.

Our late Queen was a record-breaker. There will never be anyone like her ever again. I feel a sadness saying that. Long may we remember Queen Elizabeth II: a monarch and a woman who touched so many lives across the world. What a legacy she has left behind, including her son. Long may King Charles live and prove to his mother that her legacy was worth while. May she rest in peace. I feel strongly after speaking to her that an eternal spiritual place is waiting for her, which she had been prepared for. Thank you, Ma’am, for being who you are and for being a role model to all of us.

[Lord Anderson of Ipswich (CB)]

My Lords, when a Knight of the Thistle dies, the surviving spouse or a child attends on the sovereign to return the knight’s insignia. Shortly before Christmas, as we started to recover from Covid, that extraordinary honour fell on me. Appointment to the Order of the Thistle, Scotland’s equivalent of the Garter, is, as noble Lords well know, in the personal gift of the monarch. My father had no other titles but was thought of, I suppose, because as a young teacher at Gordonstoun he took Prince Charles under his wing. We were proud of our modest tradition of royal service, exemplified by my grandfather, who used to travel to Balmoral, tape measure in hand, to fit the Royal Family for their kilts. Her Majesty seemed to remember everything—that included.

Her Majesty explained that the insignia did not actually need to be returned, pointing to my father’s thistle collar and the badge already laid out on the small round table in Windsor Castle. But she had reckoned without our family incompetence in matters of protocol. I fished out of my pocket a gold-coloured medallion, feeling ashamed that I had not ironed its green ribbon first. We had wrongly believed that it was our duty to keep it safe at home. Royal surprise turned to triumph when the Queen’s sharp eyes spotted that the medallion fitted into an indentation in the jewellery box which contained the badge. She pressed it in like the last piece of a jigsaw.

“It’s been a funny time, hasn’t it?” said Her Majesty, as she drew the audience expertly to a close. “Do you think things will go back to the way they were, or have some things just changed?” That question, posed in the context of the pandemic, came back to me after her death. Some things will never go back to the way they were, and in that there is infinite sadness. The future, by contrast, affords us no comfortable memories and fear often weighs more heavily with us than hope. But our national future can be happy and glorious if we unite to make it so. After an unparalleled life of service, Her Majesty has left us in good hands. Thank you, Ma’am, and long live the King.