FUNERAL OF LORD ROBERTS.
The kingdom and the Empire gave burial yesterday in solemn pomp to Field-Marshal Lord Roberts, the great soldier who had devoted his long life, up to its last hour, to their service at home and in the field.
The ceremony at
He died full of years and honour ; he died, as
surely he would have wished to die, on the field of war, giving
encouragement and cheer to old friends and new; and three nations joined
in the funeral ceremonies which began on the other side of the
THE SCENE AT
WOUNDED AMONG THE SPECTATORS. At
On the coffin, which was covered with a Union Jack, lay the Field-Marshal's field service cap, his baton on a cushion, and his sword. Behind the coffin came Lady Aileen Roberts, and, among others who followed were Lord Roberts's son-in-law, Major Lowin, Colonel W, M. Sherstone Colonel Sir Neville Chamberlain, and Lord Roberts' private secretary, Mr. Fergusson. Members of the local detachment of the Red Cross, Boy Scouts, boys from the Gordon Boys' Home, and the Church Lads' Brigade also formed part of the procession,
The road was lined with silent and respectful people, and outside the hospital at the race-course special facilities were given to the sick and wounded soldiers home from the war for paying the last tribute to their dead Chief. On arrival at the station the Boy Scouts and others lined up on the platform. The coffin was lifted to the shoulders of the eight tall bearers from the Irish Guards, under the command of Captain Lord de Vesci, and by them laid in the saloon carriage in the special train. One floral offering only was sent with the coffin—a cross of white flowers given by Queen Alexandra. The engine of the train bore a Union Jack and purple mourning bands. The simple and impressive ceremony had proceeded without a hitch. The mourners, the officers, and the bearers took their places in the train, which carried also a number of Lord Roberts's servants; and at half past nine it moved quietly out of the station.
A memorial service was held at the church at Ascot
at the same hour as the Burial Service in
Within Charing Cross Station, from which the
public was excluded, a guard of honour was formed by 50 men of the Irish
Guards, all of whom had taken their part on the battle-fields of
At half-past 10 the special train steamed into the station. Lady Aileen Roberts, who had travelled in it, was met by Sir Arthur Lawley and driven to the Cathedral. Very reverently the coffin was carried to a gun carriage of "P" Battery of the Royal Horse Artillery, while the guard o£ honour presented arms and the distinguished chiefs of Great Britain's Army and Navy saluted their dead leader. From the courtyard drifted the slow strains of Chopin's "Marche Funebre," and from St. James's Park boomed the first shot of a salute of 19 minute guns fired by the Hampshire Artillery.
Field-Marshal Lord Kitchener.
As they passed into the street the low murmur of the crowd was instantly hushed. The Coldstream Guards stood at the salute, all heads were bared, and in an unbroken silence the procession moved slowly onward.
PROCESSION IN THE RAIN.
The procession had as sombre and gloomy a setting as could well be. It was a raw, grey morning, bitingly cold; there was more than a touch of yellow fog, so that the warehouses on the south side of the river loomed dim and mysterious as seen from the Embankment. Moreover, at about the time when the sullen booming of the guns proclaimed that the procession had started, a cold, steady drizzle of rain came on that threatened at any moment to turn into sleet.
No doubt the inclement day kept many people
indoors; hut, as it was, a very large number of Londoners assembled to
pay their last tribute of respect. The procession was announced to leave
It was an orderly, respectful crowd, stamping now
and again to keep itself warm, but otherwise very still and silent, the
only noise coming from the hawkers, who proclaimed their memorials and
programmes with raucous cries, and continued to do so even as the
procession was passing. The route was lined with soldiers, while in the
UNENDING LINES OF TROOPS.
Its coming was extraordinarily, almost oppressively, quiet. Without any of the shouting that warns us of the approach of more cheerful cavalcades, without even a hint of expectation, the head of the procession swung suddenly into view, the pipers of the London Scottish marching in a silence broken only by the tramping of feet. Then followed long rows of troops—the 14th County of London Battalion of the London Scottish, the 5th Battalion of the Royal Sussex Regiment, the 4th Battalion of the Grenadier Guards, the men all in their great-coats and marching with arms reversed, while those who lined the street stood—in that attitude of profound and picturesque sorrow—resting on their arms. Men and still more men wound into view from the Embankment., and then vanished gradually down New Bridge Street; the street seemed filled with nothing but the round tops of caps going on and on as far as the eye could reach. The band of the Scots Guards came by silent, as were the pipers, their trumpets unblown, and after they had passed there was a halt of a few minutes.
When the procession moved on the order "Slow march" was given, and almost at the same moment there came from New Bridge Street that long, solitary roll of the drums that seems to net the whole air quivering. Chopin's Funeral March slowly died away in the distance towards St. Paul's, and meanwhile there filed past the 2nd Battalion Irish Guards, a detachment of the Royal Naval Brigade in great-coats of khaki, and a representative contingent which included, among other troops, some very small cadets and some boys from the Eton Officers Training Corps in their grey and light blue uniforms. After these followed one of the Indian mountain batteries, the mules with the little guns on their backs. each mule led by his Indian driver, the men all in khaki with just one splash of dull red in their turbans.
After these, again, came a battery of the Royal
Horse Artillery and the gun-carriage bearing the coffin. The
gun-carriage was draped with a Union Jack, and on the top of it, on a
ground of red velvet. There rested Lord Roberts's cap and medals and
baton. Behind was his horse, led by a groom. When the gun-carriage was
It was raining hard and bitterly cold now, and the wait seemed a long one before the procession slowly moved on again.
There came more officers—Lieutenant-General Sir
Reginald Pole-Carew, Major-General Sir George Pretyman, Major-General
Lord Downe, Major-General Henry Wilson, Colonel Sir N. Chamberlain, and
Major-General Sir Colin Mackenzie—carrying the dead Field-Marshal's
insignia on red velvet cushions, then officers of his personal
staff—Major Hereward Wake, Colonel H. Streatfeild. Major Lord March,
Lieutenant-Colonel Lord Kerry, Lord Derby. and Colonel H. V. Cowan—and
some Indian officers. At the end came a long procession of cavalry, the
1st Life Guards and the Royal Horse Guards. not in scarlet and blue and
lovely shining breastplates, but one long row of khaki, and finally King
Edward's Horse. When the gun-carriage had reached
THE SERVICE IN ST. PAUL'S. A MOVING CEREMONY.
Among all the stately ceremonies of which
Shortly after half-past 11 the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London in full robes of office entered by the west door and passed to their seats in the choir. A little later the Cathedral clergy headed by the Bishop of London; and the choir walked down to the door to meet the coffin. Then followed an interval that was almost painful in the intensity of its emotion, while the music of the Dead March sobbed through the Cathedral, with the long shattering rolls of the side-drums and the big drums throbbing like the muffled sound of guns.
ARRIVAL OF THE KING
The funeral procession itself was short and without elaborate ceremony, in keeping with the simplicity of character of the death. First, went the choir and the Cathedral clergy, immediately preceding the coffin, which was borne on the shoulders of eight sergeants from Lord Roberts's regiments. Behind the coffin walked the pall-bearers, Lord Kitchener prominent among them, and after them came the Archbishop of Canterbury, preceding the King, who had entered the Cathedral inconspicuously to take his place in the procession.
Still to the heartrending strain of the "Dead March" the procession moved up the church and the coffin was placed upon the catafalque (the same that was used at the Duke of Wellington's funeral 60 years go) beneath the dome. The King had a seat in the right of the catafalque facing north. Around and near him on one side of the catafalque or the other, besides the. pall-bearers and distinguished mourners, were grouped members of the Government, the leaders of the Opposition and men eminent in all walks of life. Close by were a number of Indian soldiers in places of honour and the official representatives of the Allied Powers.
The service which followed was shortened, as part
of it had already been celebrated in
After the choral rendering of sentences from the Burial Service, to music by Dr. Croft, the choir sang the 23rd Psalm ("The Lord is my shepherd ") to a chant by Barnby. The Dean of St. Paul's then read the Lesson from 1 Cor xv. 50, which was followed by Hymn No. 537 (" Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin"). The singing of the hymn was singularly beautiful, and it was impossible not to be moved by the appropriateness of some of the verses. And again, after the prayers, which were read some by the Dean and some by the Bishop of London, when Hymn No. 437 was sung (" For all the Saints who from their' labours rest") no one present can have failed to be touched by the appositeness of the lines :
And when the strife is fierce. the warfare long.
BY THE GRAVESIDE.
Before the singing of this hymn, while the Dean was reading the committal sentences from the Burial Service, the coffin was lifted from the high catafalque, where, rising above the level of the heads of the congregation and with candelabra burning on either side of it, it had been visible from all parts of the Cathedral, and, still covered with the flag, was lowered into a grave which stood open a few yards nearer to the chancel.
The scene was a solemn and affecting one. On one side of the grave the King. with bowed head, watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. Facing him, on the other side, stood Lord Kitchener. About the grave were grouped the distinguished prelates who took part in the service, and around, in the grey light, the dimness made more noticeable by the flickering of the candles beside the catafalque, were gathered most of the great and eminent men of the country— and not a few who had been the comrades of the dead Field-Marshal on many distant fields.
On the conclusion of the second hymn. the Blessing
was given by the Archbishop bf
For some minutes the great assemblage stayed while the King and other members of the Royal Family, the private mourners, the Lord Mayor and others who had taken part in the procession left the Cathedral, which soon after 1 o'clock was empty of all except the officials whose duty it was to make the arrangements for the lying-in-state, to which the public was to be admitted at 2 o’clock.
The coffin, as has been said, rested some feet below the level of the pavement of the Cathedral. It wag covered with the Union Jack, and on it was placed. at the head, Lord Roberts's service cap—A little lower were laid all his war medals, and just below them his Field-Marshal's baton. Below again, to the feet, was stretched his sword. Above, on five crimson velvet cushions set at various points around the grave, were all the stars and orders, other than the military medals, which the dead soldier had worn.
When those who had been present at the service
issued from the Cathedral a cold sleet was falling; but in spite of it,
with nearly an hour to wait, a long queue already stretched across
Queen Alexandra was present at the funeral service
in a private capacity and was represented officially by Sir Dighton
Probyn. Prince and Princess Christian were represented by Captain C.
Irving, Princess Henry of Battenberg by Mr. Victor Corkran. anti the
Major-General J. C. Dalton, late RA., was unavoidably prevented from being present at the funeral owing to indisposition.
A short notice of the funeral of the Duke of Wellington which will enable a comparison being made between the proceedings yesterday In St. Paul's and that 62 years ago on November 15, 1852, may be of interest.
At Wellingtons Funeral St. Paul's was crowded and
disfigured by galleries, and refreshments were allowed in the Cathedral.
Workmen were engaged for a month in the preparations. And the churchyard
was full of timber. The body lay in state in
The musical arrangements of the service are said to have been modelled on those of Nelson's funeral, whereby, the night congregation had to be in church at 7 in the morning and wait patiently till 11. Both services were great military displays, both testifying to the national desire to do honour to two great English soldiers and heroes; but the quiet and. subdued observance at. St. Paul's yesterday, where at 48 hours notice the Dean and Chapter have made the ecclesiastical arrangements without fuss, and the War Office the military ones with commendable promptitude; testify to what the funerals of Nelson and Wellington hardly showed, the religious character of the service and absence of unnecessary pomp.
A small committee of City men have formed a
society to be known as the League of Interpreters, with the object of
assisting Belgian and French refugees who may find themselves in
linguistic difficulties in our streets and public places. The members
will wear a badge bearing the inscription "Ligue des Interprets" or
"Vertalers Bond." All communications should be addressed to the Hon.
Secretary, the League of Interpreters, City Central hotel, 60,