The Children's Book of London

by G. E. Mitton

THE CORONATION CHAIR, WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

The royal coach was followed by an escort of soldiers, and all the way to the Abbey that loud roar of cheering was kept up. It must have been very delightful for the King and Queen to think how warmly all their people loved them, and how glad they were to see them crowned.

Meantime, at the Abbey itself everything had been got ready for the ceremony. It is the custom at a coronation that all the peers and peeresses should be present, and that they should all dress alike in rich robes of crimson velvet and white ermine, and each peer and peeress has a little coronet which he or she does not put on at first, but keeps on a cushion until the King puts on his crown. Then all the little coronets are put on at the same instant. Now, the arrangements for the coronation were very difficult to make, for all the peers and peeresses had to have seats in the Abbey given to them, and there were so many that it was difficult for them all to get in. Quite early that morning, at seven o'clock, the Abbey doors had been opened, and the dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, and barons, with their wives, had rolled up in their carriages, and alighted and gone inside there to wait. I expect a good many of them had never been up so early in their lives, and had never waited patiently for so long before. Some of them did not come in carriages, but as it was fine walked across from their houses, which were only a short way off, and what a sight they made! Nowadays to see a man dressed in crimson velvet and white ermine, with white silk stockings, and with a page carrying a coronet on a cushion by his side, and another page holding up his long train, is not very usual. The people watching must have enjoyed all this unusual grandeur, and felt as if they were living in a page of English history.

Then the royal carriages, with the scarlet-clad coachmen and footmen, began to sweep up, and the great festival had begun. The guns boomed out, telling that the King and Queen had left Buckingham Palace, and not very long after they arrived at the hall which had been built at one end of the Abbey, and there the Duke of Norfolk, bareheaded, waited to receive their Majesties. The Queen, being nearest to him, stepped out first, and she was clothed in cloth-of-gold, which shone and glittered even on that dull day. The King followed her, looking up with pleased surprise at the beautiful reception-hall that was prepared for him, and they entered the Abbey hall to make ready for the procession in the Abbey itself.

Already we have spoken so much of the grandeur of the spectacle that it is difficult to say more; perhaps no one who did not see it can ever realize quite what it was like. The peers and peeresses took their places in the Abbey, and then the procession which was to walk up the aisle was formed. First came princes and princesses, with distinguished persons bearing their trains; then guests, invited by the King, and many high officials and nobles, with coronets carried after them by pages; and then the clergy, who were the King's own chaplains. After that came the Queen, with all her attendants and ladies and many more nobles, and the jewels of the coronation called the Regalia; and then the King, with bishops before and on either side. He was attended by eight royal pages, boys of about twelve to fourteen years, who were dressed alike in scarlet coats, with bunches of white ribbon on their shoulders. Most of these boys were peers in their own right, their fathers having died, and the titles having descended to them. They were followed by more nobles and more of the Court officials, and so the grand procession swept up the Abbey aisle to the east end to begin the service.

The boys of Westminster School, which adjoins the Abbey, have the privilege of shouting out 'Vivat Rex!' at the coronation of their Sovereign—this means 'Let the King live'—and right heartily did the hundreds of young voices greet their King and Queen in this quaint way, shouting, 'Vivat, Vivat, Vivat Rex Georgius!' as the King was seen advancing up the aisle. The organ rang out, trumpets sounded, and a glorious mass of sound ascended to the roof and died away in echoes in the gray arches that have seen so many kings crowned and buried.

We have heard that the first English Edward, the Confessor, began to build the present Abbey, and that the last Edward, seventh of that name, was crowned King in that place. It was an Edward, too, called the First of England, who had brought here the coronation stone. On the chair which enclosed this stone sat the King. Among other notable people present that day were the Duke of Connaught, the late King's only living brother, and the Princess Royal, King George's eldest sister, with her two daughters. Also his other sisters the Queen of Denmark and Princess Victoria.

Among the reigning monarchs of other countries, who were guests, was the ex-Kaiser, of Germany, now living in exile. His mother was King Edward's sister. It is fortunate for her that she died before she saw all the misery and slaughter caused by her son in the Great War. There were perhaps some present even then who knew the Kaiser's evil dreams of world-power, and his wicked ambition, and feared what it might cause.

After prayer the King turned to face the representatives of his people, and the Archbishop presented him, and everyone shouted together, 'God save King George!' There were many more prayers and beautiful singing by the rich voices of well-trained choir-boys; and then came the anointing, during which the Archbishop touched the King with oil in the form of a cross on head, breast, and hands. After many other ceremonies, in the course of which the King received the sceptre and the orb, made of gold and mounted with precious stones, symbols of his authority, the crown was brought forward, the magnificent crown, covered with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds, and the Archbishop held it above the King's head, and a great hush fell on all that vast congregation. Slowly it was lowered, it touched the King's forehead, and the trumpets sounded, and all the nobles raised their coronets, and, putting them on their heads, shouted: 'God save the King!'