“‘I need hardly say that My constant endeavour will be always to walk in Her footsteps. In undertaking the heavy load which now devolves upon Me, I am fully determined to be a Constitutional Sovereign in the strictest sense of the word, and as long as there is breath in My body to work for the good and amelioration of My people.
“‘I have resolved to be known by the name of Edward, which has been borne by six of My ancestors. In doing so I do not undervalue the name of Albert, which I inherit from My ever to be lamented, great and wise Father, who by universal consent is I think deservedly known by the name of Albert the Good, and I desire that his name should stand alone.
“‘In conclusion, I trust to Parliament and the Nation to support Me in the arduous duties which now devolve upon Me by inheritance, and to which I am determined to devote My whole strength during the remainder of My life.’
“Whereupon the Lords of the Council made it their humble request to His Majesty that His Majesty’s Most Gracious Declaration to their Lordships might be made public, which His Majesty was pleased to Order accordingly.
“A. W. FitzRoy.”
His Majesty’s selection of King Edward VII. as his “style and title” proved extremely popular, for it is an essentially English name, and is bound up with so many historical associations, especially with the glorious memory of King Edward I. At the same time the King’s tribute of filial piety to his much-loved father deeply touched the hearts of his subjects. All over the British Empire King Edward was proclaimed amid rejoicings which were tempered only by a vivid sense of the common bereavement under which His Majesty and his subjects were alike suffering.
The marvellous and unprecedented outburst of sorrow for her late Majesty, which showed that not only the British Empire but the whole of the civilised world shared in King Edward’s grief, undoubtedly brought His Majesty some consolation, which was increased by the decision of the German Emperor, who had been joined by his eldest son, the Crown Prince, to remain for the funeral.
This magnificent ceremonial, in which was exemplified the lamentation of an Empire, lasted from Friday, 1st February, to Monday, 4th February. It was both naval and military in character, as befitted the funeral of the Sovereign who set so much store by her position as head of the services. The Royal Yacht Alberta, bearing her precious burden, passed from Cowes to Portsmouth along a line of warships which, reinforced as they were by foreign vessels sent by friendly Powers, seemed typical of the firm yet peaceful policy of the great ruler who was being borne to her last resting-place. The pageant through London, distinguished as it was by the presence of four reigning Sovereigns, the German Emperor, the King of the Belgians, the King of the Hellenes, and the King of Portugal, as well as numerous other representatives of foreign States, will never be forgotten by the vast crowds who saw it pass along its appointed way. It is perhaps worthy of mention that the Countess of Ranfurly represented New Zealand, her husband being Governor of that Colony, and thus the funeral of the great woman Sovereign is believed to have been the first public occasion on which a State of the Empire has been represented by a woman.
The stately and yet simple dignity of the whole ceremonial was marred by only one mishap, which is recorded here because a number of incorrect versions of what happened were current at the time. The funeral cortège did not arrive at the Great Western Railway Station at Windsor till some time after it was expected, the result being that the artillery horses, which were in waiting to draw the gun-carriage bearing the coffin to St. George’s Chapel, became chilled. Just as the procession was about to start one of the horses on the off-side—that is, one of those that had no rider—reared and plunged, and eventually stood up on its hind legs. This started the next pair, and they also began to kick, and the situation became both dangerous and painful. So restive, in fact, were the horses that an officer on the Staff approached the King and received permission to remove them from the gun-carriage. It was at this juncture that Prince Louis of Battenberg respectfully called the attention of His Majesty to the naval guard of honour drawn up close by, and suggested that the seamen should draw the coffin to the chapel. The King at once ordered that this should be done, and Prince Louis, sending for Lieutenant Boyle, who commanded the guard of honour, gave instructions to that effect. The traces, made of chain covered with leather with a hook at each end, were taken from the horses and were easily connected up by the seamen into two long drag ropes. There was a brake on the gun-carriage, but in descending the hill this was found to be insufficient for the weight—upwards of two tons—and a party of selected petty officers manned the wheels and eased the carriage down the declivity spoke by spoke.