As the queen’s cortege left Balmoral on Sunday morning, they were already waiting in Dundee.
“A sense of duty is part of it,” says Kate Duncan. “I felt like there wasn’t a choice. We’ve been given this opportunity to see the queen, so we should be here.”
“I explained to the children where we were going and they said, ‘I’ve got karate, I’ve got football”, adds her friend Karen Harbison. “I said, ‘This is the queen. You’ll thank me in 20 years’ time’. Plus, I wanted a really good spot.”
The women had found the perfect spot — right by the road where, on Sunday afternoon, the hearse bearing the queen’s coffin passed on its way to Edinburgh, the first part of its journey from her place of death at Balmoral to London for her funeral.
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As the convoy travelled towards them through eastern Scotland, the crowd grew. In Dundee, the roadside was lined with people; the embankment overlooking the main A90, where The Irish Times was waiting and the city’s dignitaries would pay their respects, the grass was covered with crowds who brought camping chairs or coats and blankets to sit on, or who simply stood wherever a vantage point was available.
It felt like a sombre picnic; there were sandwiches and tea, dogs on leads and children playing with tablets, while dotted among the crowd were Union flags, splashes of tartan, and military medals. Throughout, there was the sound of the television news commentary as people watched the progression of the cortege on their mobile phones.
A police motorcycle flashed past, and then another. Silence fell as the queen’s hearse moved slowly past, the coffin draped in the Royal Standard for Scotland with flowers from her own gardens on top.
There was a brief ripple of applause and the crowd again fell silent; on the podium the civic dignitaries — royal representatives from Dundee and the surrounding areas, plus council leaders and senior council officials — stood to attention, some with heads bowed, some wearing black armbands. One saluted.
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From the crowd, a single flower was thrown on to the hearse.
“It was a sombre moment,” says Scott Campbell after the cortege passed. “I didn’t expect to feel that kind of emotion, and I’m not even particularly a monarchist, but it was as if a reverence fell over the whole crowd ... it’s the end of an era.”
Others feel the same. Elizabeth Hood (78) remembers, as a child, receiving a rare treat of a tin of sweets for the queen’s coronation. She and her daughter, Pauline, and son-in-law, Paul Atkin, travelled some 160km to be there on Sunday.
“I wanted to come and pay my respects to my queen,” says Hood, who is happy at Charles’ accession to the throne and believes “he’ll be a good king, because he has had the benefit of the guidance of his mother”.
Yet, her son-in-law expresses concern as to what the queen’s death will mean for Scotland’s place in the union.
“It’s that cliché, she was the glue, and now the glue’s gone,” he says.
Dundee is a “Yes town”, The Irish Times is informed several times by those present. In the 2014 Scottish independence referendum it returned the highest vote in favour of breaking from the UK in all of Scotland.
But, among those spoken to, many believe Scotland is better off as part of the UK rather than as a smaller, independent nation; many of those present also have an allegiance borne of a military background or connections.
Petra McCann and Inga Hallam — who are German and Lithuanian, respectively — are married to British soldiers. The queen, they explain, was the commander-in-chief of their husbands’ regiment, the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards, and they met her twice in this capacity.
“I think we were more obsessed with her [the queen] than people from Scotland,” says McCann. “They said they were really sad [when she died], but I don’t think they were as upset as we were.
“Our husbands would both say, many times, that they made an oath to the queen.”
“I think the fact she died in Scotland showed she was a true British person who loved all the countries [of the UK],” says Karen Harbison. “I think she represents all that is good in Britishness.”
For her husband Alastair — originally from Co Antrim — the monarchy is part of the “backbone” of the country and offers stability in confusing times. Yet, their friend Kate Duncan questions whether the outpouring of support shown for the queen in Scotland since her death will translate into any lasting change in people’s opinions.
“I work in mental health, I am working in a system which is chronically underfunded,” says Duncan. “People are angry about the cost of all of this [the mourning arrangements] and the monarchy in general.
“But whether that will translate or not, I don’t know.” When it comes to the monarchy or politics, she adds, “I have to hold my tongue a lot ... it is hard to voice your views.”
“This is quite a pro-independence area,” says Harbison. “The SNP are strong here.”
She pauses, and looks around at the crowd. “But this was a lady who dedicated her whole life to serving people. I’m glad they’ve turned out for her.”
