"Jilly Cooper's memorial last week started with the dean of Southwark telling a story from her funeral last year: as the congregation made their way to her final resting place, five horses ambled majestically across a field, and came to stand in formation, looking at the grave. They would not be budged and their intention was crystal clear: they were paying their horse-respect (this is not verbatim by the way) to an author who did as much for equine-kind as she did for humans."
"The memorial was star-studded the actual queen was there. People of a certain vintage were awed, overwhelmed even, to be singing I Vow to Thee My Country in a room where Rupert Everett was singing it (albeit it's a gigantic room, a cathedral) and, again, you could imagine the scene as written by Cooper, who had an uncanny knack for being solemn and funny at the same time."
Jilly Cooper's memorial began with the dean of Southwark recounting five horses who paused at her grave, standing in formation as if paying respect. The anecdote juxtaposed romance, magnitude, absurdity and animals. The service attracted high-profile attendees, including the queen, and featured Rupert Everett singing I Vow to Thee My Country in a cathedral. Cooper's talent for blending solemnity and humour emerged through the stories shared. Many mourners described personal links to her through correspondence and cards. A printer who produced her cards received Valentine's cards from her, illustrating close, unconventional friendships and the affectionate rituals that marked her life.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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