White as a sheet the King entered Westminster Abbey, the blanket of ermine that sat around his shoulders enhancing a slightly ghostly look as he stepped into the magnificent Coronation Theatre in the robes worn by his grandfather before him.

Encircled by the tendrils of time and those who are no longer there, the abbey walls stood watch on the new King and the 40th coronation to take place within this almighty space over the past 1,000 years.

The King’s pallor came in sharp contrast to the riot of colour that illuminated this monumental place. As people gathered here from around the world to represent their countries, their cities, their streets, their service, the knave and transepts were lit with a kaleidoscopic array of flamingo pinks, peacock blues, dizzying florals and shimmering jewels and spangles as the guests turned out their celebratory best.

Queen Camilla and King Charles III arrive for their coronation at Westminster Abbey. Picture: Andrew Matthews - WPA Pool/Getty Images

As the seats filled, a sea of 1,000 fascinators formed. Above, headdresses stood proud like the rarest, most beautiful and carefully poised birds.

In the beginning, the abbey felt like the setting of a rather jolly wedding waiting to happen. In black-and-white films of the 1953 coronation, it appeared as if the only permitted mood was grave. Here, it all seemed quite upbeat. Singer Lionel Richie, a friend of the the royals and global ambassador for the Prince’s Trust, caused a stir as he took his seat – rather incongruously behind Ian Blackford MP, who wore a SNP lanyard.

But there were many contrasts at this service. The most modest shoe of a monk stood next to a gem-encrusted slipper of the aristocracy. The most solemn reading was followed by the joyful harmonies from the white-suited Ascension Choir. Within these walls, you were taken here, there and everywhere as the atmosphere began to build.

When television stars Ant and Dec unexpectedly arrived, they got a cheer from the North Transept in a moment of relative normality.

The mood started to shift and tilt towards something more heavyweight as the Queen’s family began to appear, taking their seats to the left of her, as then, empty throne chair. Then through the door came a rather broken wing of the royal family, Prince Andrew at the front, followed by his children, their husbands and then Prince Harry hanging at the back.

He bowled into the abbey in a manner that brought to mind the false confidence one might deploy to get into a club after one too many, when you are all out of luck. He took his seat in the third row of the southern lantern next to Princess Alexandra,

Then the King appeared in his robe of state, the choir swirled up into the highest of vaults and the whole atmosphere shifted up through the gears as a journey into deep time, ritual and sacred space began. To the sound of the fanfare, all rose.

Although the Coronation Service has changed little over a millennium, work has been going on behind the scenes for decades to update the liturgy to reflect King Charles, his outlook and character. Nearly 30 years ago, the King, who has long had an interest in Islam and the supernatural aspects of spirituality, indicated he wanted not just to inherit the monarch’s traditional title of “defender of the faith”, but also to be a “defender of faith”.

In the Abbey, for the first time, leaders representing multiple faiths including Sunni and Shia Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, The Zoroastrians and Hare Krishnas – among others – held a central presence. Roman Catholicism was represented at a coronation here for the first time in 400 years.

The King took his place and, welcomed by a child, he said, with a fair bit of conviction: “I come not to be served, but to serve.”

The choir, with Sir Bryn Terfel, sang God Have Mercy in Welsh, their voices moving in pure vibration, from the highest to the lowest, those vaults filling a little more. At the Recognition stage of the service, when the King is presented to the four corners of congregation, ‘God Save King Charles’ is said boldly and clearly on every asking. This service is now in full flow.

The King, at 75 the oldest monarch to take the throne, appears small, almost fragile in this mighty space that is now taking on a life of its own as rituals coalesce and the volume from the choir builds and builds. In another first, the King prays in public and asks for gentleness and guidance to paths of peace.

The choir sings, we go higher again as the tones deepen one moment and flutter the next. The sound swirls again, over and over into a crescendo so loud someone up there – anyone – could have been summoned by this sound. The abbey feels like it is trembling.

As the Anointing draws near, the choir sings in English, Welsh, Gaelic and Irish and the Ampulla of chrism, made from fruits gathered from the Mountain of Olives, where the Duke of Edinburgh’s mother is buried, appears for the ritual so profound and ancient for Christians that time is almost lost as a measurement. Scented in London with rose, jasmine, cinnamon and neroli, over time the oil has not been to everyone’s liking. Elizabeth I described it as a “grease” that “smelled ill”.

The King stands stripped of his vestments and wears the colobium sindonis, the same plain, white tunic worn by his grandfather to represent the priest’s alb, as he prepares for his private moment with God. Just a split second before he disappears behind the newly-made anointing screen, the look on his face is as if he is away to fall. The choir sings. You see tears around you. For just a moment, everything is reduced.

Much has been made of the King’s reuse of the vestments worn by his ancestors, including the white coronation glove in which he squeezes his hand. Worn before him by George VI in 1937, this hand-me-down is perhaps a neat mirror of the succession itself. The King referred to the re-use as a nod to sustainability, although that somehow seems a fragile by-word to apply the monarchy-at-large.

Earlier, as Jamaica brought its national flag into the Sacrarium, it is hard to imagine it might appear at the next Coronation with current prime minister, Andrew Holness, announcing his administration's intention to hold a referendum on the monarchy by 2025. The Coronation, he says, has concentrated minds on the vote.

On the newly-made anointing screen, Jamaica is one of the 56 members of the Commonwealth represented and hand stitched deep into the velvet. By 2025, the needlework may well need to be unpicked, or a new screen made altogether for the next coronation, whenever that may come and however the Commonwealth may look by then.

The Prince of Wales, draped in full ceremonial dress uniform of the Welsh guards, looked on from the top seat in the front row of the southern lantern, his son by his side, his future before him, these rituals and ceremonies to be recycled and perhaps refreshed in time.

The King sits in the Coronation Chair, the Stone of Destiny, on its trip from Scotland, still there. Meanwhile, a Byzantine Chant gets underway. The state sword is swapped for a jewelled version and placed in the King’s hand before it is offered to the altar. Bracelets “of sincerity and wisdom” are touched and the Prince of Wales offers his father the Stole Royal. The orb is held, rocking a little.

Soon, Lord Narendra Patel, a Knight of the Order of the Thistle, steps forward with the Coronation Ring, set with a sapphire to represent St Andrew with a cross of rubies to represent St George. A highly-decorated obstetrician who spent his career at Ninewells Hospital, the surgeon, with his “rather old hands”, was intent on getting his duty rehearsed to perfection. Those hands did not flinch as he stepped forward with the jewel on a white cushion, with eye contact made and held with the King.

As the King’s body becomes cluttered with this regalia, the ‘Prince of Patches’ comes to mind, the name given to the now King in some media given his fondness for wearing and repairing the same coat for 20 years and his high regard for the cobbler.

Then, the St Edwards Crown appears, the light of its 3,000 diamonds dancing hard under the light of the Coronation Theatre, a show that does not fully translate to television. The crown is lifted by the Archbishop of Canterbury in the highest flourish of ceremony before a slight pause. Then, it is placed, a little awkwardly, on the King’s head.

It takes a moment to fix but, after 70 years, it is there. The abbey trembles again, his ghosts appear to fade.

Coronation of King Charles III: A true spectacle and high drama inside Westminster Abbey as liturgy updated to reflect a new King

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