It was announced at Grand Lodge on 10 September 1997, that on behalf of the craft, HRH Edward, Duke of Kent had sent the following message to HRH the Prince of Wales: “All Freemasons under the United Grand Lodge of England send sincere condolences on the tragic and untimely death of Diana, Princess of Wales. Our thoughts are particularly with the Princes William and Harry. Edward, Grand Master.”

The public life of Diana, Princess of Wales, was a fairy tale. She entered as a Royal Princess; she ended, England’s Rose, as Lady of the Lake.
    Fairy–tale is an expression of underlying myth. All Freemasons know the power of myth, borne upon the shoulders of symbol and allegory. In our rituals we act out our myth; for the duration of the ritual, we are moved by the myth, we become part of it. And it is this participation which brings changes within us all, for our myth conveys a moral message. However, it is not often that we can participate openly in an emerging mythology and feel ourselves moved by its power.
    During the first week of September, following Diana’s tragic death, elements of a powerful myth were dropping resonantly into place. Each day brought omens of an impending mythological eruption: massed emotion swinging between grief and anger; a desire for a place of pilgrimage, a place to leave gifts of flowers and cards; a desire for the Royal family to appear in their London palaces; an obsession with one heroine; even visions, talk of canonisation, and cards which begged Diana to intercede for the relief of illness or distress.
    It was focused and finally crystallised around 11.30 in the morning of Saturday 6 September as Elton John sang goodbye to “England’s Rose”; as Earl Spencer defended his Princess with all the courage, power and love we normally associate with medieval chivalry. He spoke from his heart of blood kinship and of souls that might freely sing. He issued challenges to all who might have impugned her honour, no matter from which quarter they came. He was the most noble knight, defending those in need.
    Before the combined mysticism of the Rose and the knight, the powerful symbolic elements could no longer be restrained. An ancient mythology broke its chains and arose as an overwhelming emotion which was manifested in the rush of applause which invaded the Abbey from the crowds beyond its doors. At that moment, Britain’s peoples participated together in a mystery as old as humankind. An ancient myth of the unattainable princess and the compassionate knight, of male and female seeking unity in the alchemical wedding; this ancient myth gathered people together under a symbol, the Rose, beneath the benign protection of the Cross.
    Traditional British reserve gave way before the demands of the heart. The feminine values of feeling, instinct and intuition erupted, despite the struggle of the male values of control and restraint. The demands of the Rose and the Cross for balance proved more powerful than any rational appeal to duty or precedent. Inside and outside the Abbey, tears flowed freely in a national catharsis; the crucible gave up its gold. The nation changed.
    Hesitant at first, we looked towards the horizon. And we liked what we saw.

The Rose
William Browne of Tavistock. 1588– 1643

A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the North,
Grew in a little garden all alone;
A sweeter flower did Nature ne’er put forth,
Nor fairer garden yet was never known:
The maidens danced about it morn and noon,
And learnèd bards of it their ditties made;
The nimble fairies by the pale–faced moon
Water’d the root and kiss’d her pretty shade.
But well–a–day! – the gardener careless grew;
The maids and fairies both were kept away,
And in a drought the caterpillars threw
Themselves upon the bud and every spray.
God shield the stock! If heaven send no supplies,
The fairest blossom of the garden dies.