The Queen left Balmoral on the 22nd of October, and slept that night in the palace of Holyrood. On the following day the Prince Consort laid the foundation-stone of the new General Post Office in Edinburgh, and afterwards performed the same ceremonial for the Industrial Museum of Scotland. On the same evening the Royal party resumed their journey to England, and arrived at Windsor Castle at half-past eight the following morning. On the 1st of November the Queen, as Sovereign of the most exalted Order of the Star of India, held her first investiture in great state. This Order had been instituted a few months before, to provide a means for adequately recognising and honouring services rendered to the British Crown in India, whether by native princes or by British subjects. It consisted of a Grand Master (who was the Viceroy of India for the time being), and twenty-five knights, together with such extra and honorary knights as her Majesty might from time to time see fit to appoint.
Nothing unusual was heard of the Royal Family till the middle of December; and the heavy toll of the great bell of St. Paul's gave the first intimation to many of the people of London that the Prince Consort had been suffering from any dangerous illness. On the previous Saturday the Court News had announced that the Queen had driven out in an open carriage, and that the Prince had been confined to his apartments during the week by a feverish cold, attended with pains in the limbs. On the following Wednesday a bulletin stated that he was suffering from fever not attended by unfavourable symptoms, but likely from its nature to continue for some time. On Saturday, however, rumours were abroad at the West-End that the Prince was dangerously ill and that he was sinking fast. Then it was reported that he had rallied and that even at the Castle no serious alarm existed. When, therefore, the bell of St. Paul's tolled at midnight over the hushed city, it inspired a feeling of apprehension which was too sadly realised next morning. The news of the death of the Prince on the 14th was then flashed along every wire throughout the United Kingdom and over the Continent of Europe. It being Sunday, it was not till the people went to church and noticed the omission of the Prince's name in the Liturgy, that the truth was realised. The grief was universal, pervading every household, as if each had lost some dear and honoured relative. The funeral took place on the 23rd of December. At the express desire of the departed Prince, it was of a private character; but all the chief men of the State attended the obsequies at the Royal Chapel. Nature seemed to sympathise with the national feeling of depression and gloom. The weather was cold and damp, the sky dull and heavy. There was a procession of State carriages to St. George's Chapel, at the door of which the Prince of Wales and the other Royal mourners were assembled to receive the corpse. The grief of the Royal children was very affecting; little Prince Arthur especially sobbed as if his heart were breaking. When all was over, and the last of the long, lingering train of mourners had departed, the attendants descended into the vault with lights, and moved the bier and coffin along the narrow passage to the royal vault. The day was observed throughout the realm as one of deep solemnity. The bells of all the churches were tolled, and in many churches special services were performed. In the towns the shops were closed, and the window blinds of private residences were drawn down. A large number of persons appeared in mourning, and in seaport towns the flags were hoisted half-mast high. The words of the Poet Laureate were scarcely too strong when he said—
"The shadow of his loss drew like eclipse
Darkening the world. We have lost him: he is gone:
We know him now: all narrow jealousies
Are silent; and we see him as he moved,
How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise;
With what sublime repression of himself,
And in what limits, and how tenderly;
Not swaying to this faction or to that: