Six Years and Hundreds of Witnesses Later, Coroner Rules in London Bombings

Stories of bystanders fighting their way into mangled, pitch-black subway cars and refusing to leave passengers whose lives were slipping away. Stories of body parts strewn in the rubble of a sliced-open bus. Stories of grievously wounded people who somehow cheated death because of resilience, luck and the extraordinary efforts of strangers.

And the story, too, of how four British men of Pakistani descent committed one of the worst acts of terrorism in British history on July 7, 2005, setting off four bombs in London’s transportation network that killed 56 people, including themselves, and wounded at least 700 more.

Nearly six years later, after a highly unusual inquest in which the final moments of each of the 52 victims’ lives unfolded in forensic detail in a courtroom here, the coroner in the case made her ruling: “unlawful killing.”

It was a foregone conclusion, as, in a way, was her other finding: “That the evidence I have heard does not justify the conclusion that any failings on the part of any organization or individual caused or contributed to any of the deaths.”

But the coroner, Lady Justice Hallett, explained that the inquest, standard practice after violent deaths in Britain, had in this case a larger purpose: to provide a way for the surviving families to “find out what happened, how their loved ones died and if their deaths could have been prevented.”

The inquest into the 7/7 bombings, as they are known, has been widely praised for its humane and sensitive approach. Though inquests are usually held soon after someone dies, this one was delayed until after the end of several terrorist trials that had bearing on the evidence.

It was an immensely complicated proceeding, dealing with four crime scenes, three in the subway system and one on a bus in central London, and detailing the background and movements of the four men responsible. It heard from 309 witnesses, including intelligence officers, and listened to the written statements of 197 other people.

In her remarks, Lady Justice Hallett said she was certain that the bombings could not have been prevented, even though two of the bombers were known by MI5, Britain’s domestic security service.

She also acknowledged that there were widespread problems in the emergency response to the bombings: some people who survived the attacks died while waiting for up to an hour to be rescued. But she also said that after hearing all the medical evidence, she was convinced that none of those victims would have survived.

“The evidence I have heard does not justify the conclusion that any failings on the part of any organization or individual caused or contributed to any of the deaths,” the coroner said.

But she made a number of recommendations about how the security services could improve intelligence gathering and the emergency services their coordination and organization.

The families of some of the victims said that her recommendations did not go far enough and called for a new inquiry. At the same time, 10 of the families said they were grateful for how the inquest had been conducted.

“The coroner should be commended for her efforts in ensuring that these proceedings have been conducted at all times in a dignified, timely and sensitive manner to those who lost their lives,” they said in a statement.

Day after day, the inquest heard from an array of witnesses, some arriving in wheelchairs or using crutches or canes, others still traumatized and in counseling. Some of the witnesses said that anyone would have helped the way that they did.

The inquest heard how Group Capt. Craig Staniforth of the Royal Air Force smashed his way into one of the bombed subway cars, swinging onto the wreckage from handrails and then discussing his daughter’s college applications with a severely wounded passenger in an effort to keep him conscious.

“I can almost reel off to this day what four universities those were,” the passenger, John Tulloch, told the inquest.

It heard how another passenger, Steve Hucklesbury, climbed into a wrecked car to try to resuscitate Laura Webb, 29, with help from a woman shouting directions through the window, but how he had to give up when her mouth and nose filled with blood and it was clear that nothing more could be done.

It heard how Gill Hicks, on the subway near the Russell Square station, seeing that her legs were “literally hanging by a sinew of skin,” fashioned two tourniquets out of her scarf and willed herself to remain alert because otherwise, “you know, I would die,” she said. She lost 75 percent of her blood and both her legs.

“Until I started this process, I had no idea that people could survive injuries as horrific as yours,” Lady Justice Hallett told her at the inquest. “You are amazing.”

And it heard how Gerardine Quaghebeur, a neuroradiologist who was sitting in the same subway car as one of the bombers, refused to evacuate the wrecked, pitch-black train. wounded, dead and dying passengers, stacked one on top of the other.

Speaking of a woman who had been seated near her, Ms. Quaghebeur said: “She asked, ‘You can’t be leaving us. You aren’t going to leave us?’?”

“No,” she replied. “No, I’ll stay.”

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A Traditional Royal Wedding, but for the 3 Billion Witnesses

It was an impeccably choreographed occasion of high pomp and heartfelt emotion, of ancient customs tweaked by modern developments (Elton John brought his husband).

Viewing estimates for the ceremony, at 11 a.m. British time on the dot, hovered in the three billion range, give or take 500 million. Australians held bouquet-throwing competitions; people in Hong Kong wore Kate and William masks; New Yorkers rose by dawn to watch the entrance of guests like Victoria Beckham, teetering pregnantly in sky-high Christian Louboutin heels, Guy Ritchie, the former Mr. Madonna, and assorted monarchs from European countries that are no longer monarchies, like Bulgaria.

In London, the Metropolitan Police said, a million people lined the route of the royal procession, and half a million gathered in front of Buckingham Palace to watch the bride and groom, now known as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, kiss (twice) on the palace balcony.

People paid attention almost despite themselves.

“I never really think too seriously about them,” said Kathy Gunn, 54, speaking of the royal family. Yet she had somehow been inexorably sucked into the spirit of the occasion, watching it unfold with a crowd on a huge screen at a cafe in central London. “It gives you a great sense of community and spirit,” she said. “I am a royalist for the day.”

In a world of scattered attention, the occasion had the effect of providing a single international conversation about a subject with universal appeal. It was like a party scene in “Dallas,” only with Prince Philip instead of J. R. Ewing.

Grizzled political correspondents, hauled in to television studios to serve as wedding anchors, found themselves talking in all seriousness about the passementerie of the mother of the bride’s dress and the provenance of Miss Middleton’s tiara. (She borrowed it from Queen Elizabeth, in case you were wondering. It is made of a great many diamonds.)

There was a feast of interesting particulars. First, Kate’s dress. Though The Daily Mail successfully predicted the name of the designer — Sarah Burton at Alexander McQueen — it was still an official secret, so much so that Ms. Burton tried to sneak into Kate’s hotel on Thursday night with her face mostly obscured by a huge yeti-like fur hat.

St. James’s Palace released the details of the dress just as Miss Middleton stepped out of a royal Rolls-Royce with her father, Michael, to walk down the aisle at Westminster Abbey.

Her “something old” was the design of the dress, using traditional craftsmanship. “Something new” was represented by her earrings, a gift from her parents. The tiara was borrowed, and she had a blue ribbon sewn into her dress for her blue item.

Prince William wore the bright scarlet coat of an Irish Guards mounted officer, the uniform of his senior honorary army appointment. He was wearing “gold sword slings,” St. James’s Palace said, but no sword.

The outfits of the guests were generally tasteful and royal-friendly. A few things stuck out. The exotic costumes of foreign dignitaries, seeming throwbacks to imperial times. The hats worn by the ladies, which resembled, variously, overturned buckets, flowerpots, lampshades, fezzes, salad plates, tea cozies, flying saucers, abstract artworks or, in one case, a pile of feathers. There were also a number of fascinators, decorative shapes with flowers or feathers, that are stuck in one’s hair but are not hats.

Catty observers pointed out that Prime Minister David Cameron’s wife, Samantha, was possibly the only female guest who wore no hat (or fascinator) at all.

Mr. Cameron wore a traditional morning suit. The dress code had filled him with angst this month when news broke out that in order to avoid appearing too posh, he intended to wear a regular business suit, what the British call a “lounge suit.” But as scorn poured upon him — he is in fact posh and frequently wears posh clothes — he said that he would wear a morning suit after all.

Some questions were also raised about the guest list. John Major and Margaret Thatcher, former Conservative prime ministers, were invited; Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, former Labour prime ministers, were not. (Mr. Major attended; Lady Thatcher was ill and stayed home.) The Syrian ambassador was invited, and then uninvited. Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess of York, was never invited.

The new duchess, of course, has parents who made their own fortune with an Internet party-accouterments business. Even a generation ago, she would have been considered unthinkable as a prospective royal bride.

The country’s merciless news media have been watching hopefully, and mostly fruitlessly, for signs of middle-class behavior from the Middletons. One TV commentator, standing outside the Goring Hotel, which the Middletons rented for the night before the wedding, remarked, “It’s sometimes hard to tell who are Middletons and who are staff.”

But except for having no titles, no inherited tiaras and no military uniforms, the Middletons were indistinguishable from the guests at the wedding. The bride’s mother, Carole, wore a lovely outfit by Catherine Walker, an aristocrat-approved designer; she did not chew gum, as she was said to have done once when she appeared in public at a royal event, or exhibit déclassé tendencies of any kind.

Kate’s elevation, such as it is, to royalty adds a special frisson to the story of her romance with William. The world knows that there are often no fairy-tale endings to these made-for-television moments — the collapse of the marriage of William’s parents being the most obvious example. But this couple seems to be a real one, with the potential to resuscitate the image of a royal family tarnished by misadventures like the antics of Prince Harry and Prince Andrew, and resentment over privilege and expenditures.

Kate, who promised to love William but not to obey him, is not actually a princess yet (if she were, she would be called Princess William, which is perhaps not a dream title). But she seems already at ease in what will now be a lifetime job, one with a heavy burden of responsibility as well as great privilege. As the couple drove in their horse-drawn carriage from the church to Buckingham Palace, she waved like a pro — from the wrist, the royal way.

Ravi Somaiya contributed reporting.