As an occasional observer of grand, ceremonial events, I have been to few grander or more ceremonial than the Memorial Service for Lord Carrington in Westminster Abbey which was filled by the purple of Tory grandees, but enlivened by the recollection of Carrington’s own sense of humour and self deprecation, downplaying his role as a tank commander at the Battle of Arnhem, and a junior minister in what Winston Churchill called his shoot. Carrington was celebrated – rightly – by Lord Luce for being what Harold Macmillan called ‘the last of the Whigs’, his belief in public service, and his support for Britain’s entry into the EEC.