From the first note of the first piece of music to the last reference to the nation’s ancient symbol of sovereignty - an ordinary looking stone sitting on an ordinary looking plinth - this was a Scottish service for a Scottish King.

The music made it clear from the start that it was going to be different from the great pomp of the Westminster coronation: more informal, more Scottish. There were no thrones this time – instead the staff at St Giles' said they’d looked out their “best seats” for the King and Queen. And as the congregation settled down, there were snatches of songs we all know: The Bonnie Banks and Auld Lang Syne, touches of ordinary.

The music was also a conscious tour of the Scottish kingdom that is marking the coronation of a new king. The Honours of Scotland Ensemble, specially assembled for the service, sang of the Highlands, the organ piece composed by James MacMillan brought to mind the hills of Ayrshire, while Nicola Benedetti’s violin piece travelled hundreds of miles from the Orkney islands.

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The personal hand of the King could also be seen in the music. I spoke to Jay Capperauld, who was commissioned to write Schiehallion, the piece that was played just as the cathedral was preparing for the arrival of the King and Queen.

“The piece was made of three traditional Scottish folk tunes specially selected by the King to reflect his personal connection with Scotland,” said Jay. “Two of the tunes Dark Lochnagar and Bovaglie’s Plaid both come from Balmoral which has a deep meaning to the King and the third tune The Flowers of Edinburgh signifies the celebrations of the occasion.”

There was also an even deeper connection going on because Jay, associate composer with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, grew up in New Cumnock near Dumfries House, which the King saved for the nation in 2007. It has a special place in the King’s affection but Jay has also seen how the estate has helped the regeneration of his local area through the arts and traditional crafts.  “I’m very humbled that His Majesty is keen to support a composer such as myself as well as many musicians from all over Scotland,” he said.

The Herald: The King and Queen during the serviceThe King and Queen during the service (Image: free)

A few minutes after the last notes of Schiehallion faded, the King himself arrived and it was the turn of the four State Trumpeters of the Household Cavalry, their glorious uniforms newly branded with the insignia of the new King: CRIII, numbers and letters intertwined. 

The procession into the cathedral was led by a saltire and then a trilogy of stars of the show, ancient and new. First came the Elizabeth Sword, a new artefact commissioned for the service and held by athlete Katherine Grainger (doing a Penny Mordaunt for the day), followed by the sceptre, borne by the Lord Justice Clerk Lady Dorrian.

And then The Crown, older than anything England can do. The English Crown Jewels were destroyed after the execution of Charles I but the Scottish ones survived, were smuggled here and there, were hidden, and eventually restored to Charles II when Cromwell was long gone.

There were constant reminders of all of this history in the service, but also pointers throughout to its meaning, the minister of St Giles', Rev Calum I MacLeod, reminded everyone that James VI worshipped in this church and that the present King’s mother had received the Scottish crown jewels here herself in 1953. But he also pointed out what the honours as they’re known are supposed to mean: service.

The congregation was then led in prayers, and they chanted the Lord’s Prayer from memory. Outside though, you could hear another chant, which came and went, but was loud and clear during the quiet moments: Not our King! Not our King! Not Our King! It was the signature tune of the people who didn’t want to be here and didn’t want it to happen. Some might have been surprised at how close they were to the cathedral.

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The ceremonial part of the service, during which the chants from outside could be clearly heard, was over very quickly. Dame Katherine held the sword in front of her and addressed the King: “we pledge our loyalty, entrusting you to defend our laws” and the King replied: “I so promise by God’s help”.

The same ritual was repeated for the sceptre and the crown. By the sceptre, the king promised to seek the prosperity of the nation and by the crown, he pledged to serve all his people. Again, he promised. By God’s help.

It was tempting in other parts of the service to look for meanings and signs of the status of the King, his kingdom, his subjects and those who do not wish to be. One important sign, certainly one of the most positive, was the fact that one of the readings was by Scotland’s first Muslim First Minister. But everyone would also have known that it was also a reading by the first of Scotland’s leaders to hint heavily at a possible end to monarchy.

And did Mr Yousaf wonder at something the Dean of the cathedral said when he addressed the congregation and formally offered the honours to the King on behalf of the people of Scotland? “As we offer these to the King,” said the Dean, “we celebrate the peace and unity of our land and its people.” Peace and unity? We could hear that chant outside: Not our King, not our King.

The Herald: Crowds on the Royal MileCrowds on the Royal Mile (Image: free)

The sermon, delivered by the Moderator Rt Rev Sally Foster-Fulton, also had some significant messages, not so hidden really, if you were looking for them. Sisters and brothers, she said, look around you at everyone here. Look at this beautiful tapestry of humanity. Look at Scotland. We should learn to listen to each other, she said, not just respond.

She went on to develop her theme: “How narrow our sight, and how monochrome our understanding when we do not embrace the richness of different perspectives,” she said.

She also appeared to be directly addressing our fractious age later in the sermon when she urged people to “choose collaboration and trust over fear-filled circling of our wagons. We are one global neighbourhood, intricately inter-related and completely co-dependent, woven together, like a tartan”.

The moderator’s sermon was also a reference to what the service was trying to do with those who had been invited: some 650 people, many from the charities the King leads and supports. One of those in the congregation was Dame Sue Bruce, chair of The Prince’s Foundation, which leads many education and training programmes in Scotland.

“It’s an honour to be here representing The Prince’s Foundation,” said Dame Sue. “Inspired by the vision of our founder His Majesty King Charles III, the charity carries out a significant amount of philanthropic work in Scotland, most notably at our Dumfries House headquarters. Thousands of young people are invited every year to engage in education and training programmes which champion traditional craft skills, sustainability, the arts, and the importance of engaging with nature.” Some of the people who have benefited from the programmes were in the cathedral.

The Herald: Red Arrows flypastRed Arrows flypast (Image: free)

And what did they see, because the service would be different for different people. Some would see all the old, old symbols of monarchy, all the traditions, the military (and some might be adding up the cost in their heads). But others might see the signs of modernity, of change.

The sermon, for example, was tradition itself, and the First Minister’s reading was taken from the Old Testament. But the King was also addressed by representatives from other religions including Chief Imam Sayed Razawi and Rabbi Moshe Rubin from Giffnock.

But most intriguing of the community leaders was the one who represented no religion at all: Fraser Sutherland, chief executive of the Humanist Society Scotland. Even Patrick Harvie and Lorna Slater, conspicuous by their absence, might have approved of Mr Sutherland’s message: “all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights”. He said he would celebrate today with the King in that spirit.

After the prayers and messages, the service was drawing to a close, but there was still time for an appearance by one final star of the show: the Stone of Destiny, resting on an ordinary-looking plinth (referred to now, I assume, as the Plinth of Destiny).

The Lord Lyon told us what it meant. The presence of the stone, he said, was a historic moment in the life of Scotland and an ancient symbol of Scottish sovereignty. But he went further than that and in so doing underlined the ways in which this was a Scottish service for a Scottish king.

“Carved from the earth,” he said, “this is a simple piece of stone. Yet, in its simplicity, it has precious and significant symbolism for the people of this land.” How wonderful, and how Scottish, that it should end like this: not with the King, or the sceptre, or the jewels, but with an ordinary looking chunk of stone.

The Herald: The royal processionThe royal procession (Image: free)