St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1910-06-15
The Royal Funeral.
Impressions Made on an Eye Wit
ness by the Funeral Procession
of King Edward.

now IN England, describing the funeral
procession of King Edward as she saw
Every true democrat yearns to look
upon ROYALTY His outward attitude
may be that OF superior Indifference. His
references to crowned heads as the 'gilded
toys of the populace' may be frequent,
but underneath, the traditions of his race
are strong and in spite of his principles
he feels distinct thrill at the prospect of
seeing the descendants of that long line
of kings to whom his ancestors once
sworn allegiance. If THAT isn't true, why
was it the advance sale OF seats to view
the late Kings funeral procession was
largely made to Americans So the
papers said. 1t couldn't have been
entirely our national love of parade.
At any rate, when the glorious
opportunity came to one loyal American,
she threw to the winds all the arguments
with which she had been yainly trying to
console herself for not going to London
with the rest of the world on May Goth
and took the first available train. Though
crowded in every carriage, it was only
one of hundreds which all day long had
been pouring thousands of tolk,-old and
young, rich and poor, but all in black
garments,-intO the various railway
stations of London. The universal
black had for d Ays past been curiouslv
depressing. All the Oxford shop win
dows showed black shutters, "a straight
wooden strip either covered with black
cloth or painted black, cutting the Win
dow vertically; inside were black
draperies of all sorts. The gay chantecler
creations in the miIliners' windows had
been abruptly swept aside for sombre
black hats hastily thrown together.
Even the undergraduates neckties,
usually OF ferociously flaming shades,
had suddenly gone black Though his
socks might still be a vivid green or
purplel) and the gloom so insistentlv
thrust upon our vision, soon affected ones
spirits, so that there was a certain
dread of the thought of seeing a great
city like London draped IN the SOmbre
color.
The minute we alighted at Paddingt ton
Station there came the shock of relief.
The color for royal mourning is of course
purple, not black, and the few sugges-
tons at decoration at the far end of the
great shed were in that rich color, with
large green laurel wreaths to break the
monotone. Once outside the Station, the
shifting, black CARRIED crowd brought its
own exhiliration. All along the miles of
the line of route they were streaming
to see the decorations, to watch the
carpenters busy with hammer and saw
at the completion of the various stands,
to haggle (vainly) with the hawkers of
seats for a reasonable place and price.
and to look at the thousands of other
people who were doing the same thing.
Tiers after tiers of seats there were, with
in shop windows, outside along the
pavementS, upon balconies, banked high
on both sides of the street called Oxford
and Cambridge Terraces, -more seats
than could possibly be occupied, we
thought, yet over and over again we
heard the question Seats here? receive
the laconic reply "All sold"
We were carried on with the crowd,
down the long stretch of the Edgeware
Road to the Marble Arch. Here too were
tiers of seats but more widely scattered.
The crowd would fill the open square as
far as the police would let them and then
would spill over into the Park through
which the line of route passed. Across
stretch of grass we could see the white
tents of the soldiers detailed for duty
tomorrow who were camped there for
the night
But one of the most impressive sights
in the city was down at Westminster so
we climbed to the top of bus and were
trundled down Park Lane to Hyde Park
Corner and then leaving the line of route
for a more circuitous approach to the
Abbey, lodging down side streets.
passing interposing policemen with the
assurance that we wished only to see
the line-not to join tive finally c Ct me
out just below the great Victoria Tower
of the Houses of Parliament Up and
down Abingdon Street as far as we could
see there was no traffic, only policemen on
guard, but on the pavement opposite
was the sight we had come to see-the
u 1 Il
had Westminster Hall for its goal. The
queue of men, women and children who
were to see the coffin of King Edward
VII lying in state in the Hall begun by
his Norman ancestor, William Rufus,
stretched three miles from it's west door
down along the embanknent, fed con-
stantly through the day by people who
had hurried down the street parallel, to
find the end of the seemingly endless line.
Four hundred thousand there were who
went in on Thursday alone, the papers
said. Twenty thousand were disappoint-
ed the night before when the doors of the
Hall were closed at ten o'clock. 1t was
tremendously impressive this intermin-
able line of mourners, which had been
Flooding steadily past this very point,
all through the long hot day.
A threatening thunderstorm drove US
back up Whitehall and through Picca-
dllly. Everywhere were the purple hang
ings and laurel wreaths, from many Of
which hung card inscribed with the
names of the givers. Across Whitehall
near the Horse guards, hung a great
banner bearing the words The CITY of
Westminster Mourns." Impressive, but
not so suggestive as one we had seen
near Paddington Station, strangely
enough, adapted from the famous in
scription on Sir Christopher Wren's
tomb in St. Pauls Isl requiris Monumen-
tum, Circumspice." If King Georges
eyes were caught by that banner the
next day, its inscription must have had
sudden dramatic meaning and force in
the silence and barred heads of the throngs
who had gathered to pay tribute to the
dead King.
Instructions had gone out that seat
holders were to be in their places at
seven thirty on he rnOruino of the Doth