The Most Eyebrow-Raising Elements of King Charles’ Coronation, Explained

I didn’t realize that I am actually excited for King Charles’ coronation on Saturday until I began working on this piece. The idea that the monarchy continues to exist as an institution in the year 2023 is sort of hard to wrap my mind around, but damn if it isn’t entertaining. There is so much pomp, circumstance, drama, history, wealth, and religion wrapped up in this single event that I, for one, am looking forward to waking up obscenely early on a weekend and observing it all.

Allow me to delve into the nitty-gritty of the kookiest and funniest elements of the ceremony, so the interested among us are better equipped to follow along.

This is literally just an old rock. But according to Edinburgh Castle’s website, it is considered a “sacred object” (by whom, it does not say) and has been used during the coronation of monarchs since King Edward I “seized” the stone from Scotland and built it into a new throne in London in 1296. (Stealing is, after all, the classic way for British royalty to acquire priceless objects.) The fancy stone was repatriated to Scotland in 1996 and now only crosses into England for coronations of new monarchs. It will be at the base of the chair Charles sits in during the coronation. You can also call it the Stone of Scone (pronounced “scoon”), which I think is delightful.

However, I cannot emphasize enough that it is just a rock. A very old rock, to be sure, but also…rocks are famously old. King Arthur didn’t even pull a sword out of this one.

Much like a rich bride at her Instagram-friendly wedding, Charles will appear in not one, not two, but three outfits during the course of the two-hour coronation ceremony, according to Marie Claire. He’ll enter Westminster Abbey in the Robe of State, which is made of crimson velvet. Before his anointing (more on that shortly), he’ll change into the Colobium Sindonis, a white tunic that symbolizes “purity before God.” On top of that, he’ll wear an embroidered Supertunica (which I assume is just Latin for “super tunic”); the Robe Royal (aka the Imperial Mantle, which looks sick as hell); and the Stole Royal (a band of gold silk embroidered with various symbols relevant to the Commonwealth). Then, for his exit pics, he’ll take off the Robe and Stole Royals and put on the Imperial Robe, which is made of purple velvet. Go off, literal king!

Apparently, Charles’s coronation will be more casual than coronations past due to the “cost of living crisis,” as one royal expert told Marie Claire. Sure! A king of the people...LOL.

Nothing says “congrats on your coronation” like a pastry that is essentially eel pie (ew), but Charles is getting out of eating this gross concoction pretty easily: Fishing for lampreys requires a special permit in England due to population loss, and old Chucky is famously really into sustainability, so it only seemed appropriate to phase out lamprey pie. (It will be made with pork instead, though that’s not all that sustainable, either, for the record.)

Also, according to the New York Times, Lord-Lieutenant Edward Gillespie, a representative who “accepted” one such faux-lamprey pie on the king’s behalf earlier this week, said Charles “wouldn’t like it” if it were made with eels. You and me both, brother.

Once upon a time, this holy oil was made with civet oil, which comes from the glands of small mammals, and ambergris, which comes from the intestines of whales. We’ve already established that Charles is a sustainability queen, so it only made sense that the recipe was updated for his coronation. It is now basically just really, really fancy olive oil (with some essential oils, sesame, rose, jasmine, cinnamon, and neroli thrown in).

As the BBC noted, the coronation is not just for show—it’s also a religious ceremony, since Charles has become the head of the Church of England. As such, he’ll be anointed with chrism oil on his head, chest, and hands.

The oil was consecrated at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is built on top of the site in Jerusalem where Jesus is believed to have died. Look, religion aside, olive oil from the Mediterranean is good shit!!

OK now we’re getting into the really good religious shit. Pope Francis (the man who was kissing the urn in the previous slide) donated two shards of wood that he has it on good authority came from the cross upon which the big guy, Jesus Christ himself, was crucified. The splinters have been incorporated into the Cross of Wales (right), which will be used during the coronation ceremony.

As an admitted British history nerd who was very into the Tudor Era as a teen, this whole situation is wild to me. The Church of England, which Charles is now the head of, famously only exists because Henry VIII wanted to get divorced but couldn’t in the Catholic church, so he formed his own thing. The fallout was extremely dramatic and violent, and Catholics and Anglicans fought literal wars over whose religion was better for the better part of a century! But I guess that’s all water under the bridge now, because nothing says “let’s not fight anymore” like the sharing of religious relics of questionable provenance.

Organizers are touting the “modern” elements of Charles’s coronation ceremony. Lady priests will be involved! Figures from other religious traditions will be present! And the public is getting an opportunity to take an active role! What, exactly, are the regular old plebs across Britain and the Commonwealth being asked to do, you ask? It’s not that weird, it’s just uh, swearing allegiance to the king.

The “homage of the people” is apparently replacing the “homage of the peers” (aka Lords and other aristocrats), which I think we’re supposed to interpret as being more democratic (truly, LOL). Monarchy PR lackeys are saying the oath will be recited by a “chorus of millions,” according to the BBC, but I cannot imagine more than a couple thousand hardcore royalists will actually recite it in their living rooms or at their garden parties. In case you’re one of those few, here’s what you’ve gotta say when prompted: “I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors according to law. So help me God.” (Also, if you do it, please send me a video. I need proof.)

This actually does look like quite a fancy spoon, to be fair, but the phrase “coronation spoon” has sent me into paroxysms of cackles over the past few days.

“The silver-gilt spoon has an oval bowl, divided into two lobes, engraved with acanthus scrolls,” according to the Royal Collection Trust. And though its first recorded mention came in 1349, it dates back to long before then. To risk going a bit too much into British history, this spoon survived Oliver Cromwell’s purge of coronation regalia in the mid-1600s, so it is the oldest object (besides the Stone of Destiny of course) to be used during the ceremony, the Guardian reported. Neat!!

That eagle is an ampulla, which will store the chrism oil used to anoint Charles. A bit of oil will be poured into the coronation spoon, and the Archbishop of Canterbury will dip his fingers into the coronation spoon during the anointing process.

Last but not least, some gossip-adjacent elements of the ceremony: Back in the halcyon days of Spring 2019, before royals drama began and ended with Meghan Markle, it was widely rumored that Prince William (now second in line for the throne) had stepped out on Kate Middleton with their neighbor, Rose Hanbury aka the Marchioness of Cholmondeley (pronounced “chumley,” naturally), in white above. (I’m sorry but she looks so like Kate, it’s bizarre.) Their group of friends out in the countryside, inexplicably called the “turnip toffs,” was never the same, and Kate reportedly demanded that she be iced out.

In any case, Rose’s husband, David Cholmondeley, comes from a long line of aristocrats, and in 2022 he was awarded “the Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order (RVO) which recognizes distinguished personal service to the monarch,” according to the Associated Press—so he’s hot shit in royal circles. So hot that he’s been made King Charles’ Lord-in-Waiting, which means that he and Rose will attend various royal occasions, and he will sometimes act as a representative of the King, the Daily Mail reported. The idea that your dad would appoint the husband of your ex-lover as one of his closest associates? Delightfully juicy, absolutely no notes.

Rose and David’s 13-year-old son, Oliver, will also be one of the pages in the procession into Westminster Abbey, alongside Prince George.