The Grand Old Man / Or, the Life and Public Services of the Right Honorable William Ewart Gladstone, Four Times Prime Minister of England

by Richard B. Cook

The Princess of Wales and the Duchess of York occupied the Dean's pew opposite. Other royalties were present in person or by their representatives.

Within the chancel stood the Dean of Westminster, and behind him were gathered the cathedral clergy, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the scarlet and white surpliced choir, filling the chapel.

It was the wish of the deceased for simplicity, but he was buried with a nation's homage in the tomb of kings. In the northern transept, known as the "Statesmen's Corner", of Westminster Abbey, where England's greatest dead rests, the body of Mr. Gladstone was entombed. His grave is near the graves of Pitt, Palmerston, Canning and Peel, beside that of his life-long political adversary, Lord Beaconsfield (Benjamin Disraeli), whose marble effigy looks down upon it, decked with the regalia Mr. Gladstone had so often refused. Two possible future kings of Great Britain walked besides the great commoner's coffin and stood beside his grave, and all the nobility and learning of the nation surrounded his bier. This state funeral, the first since that of Lord Palmerston, was rendered more imposing by the magnificence of the edifice in which it was solemnized. The coffin rested on an elevated bier before the altar, its plainness hidden beneath a pall of white-and gold embroidered cloth.

A choir of one hundred male singers, which had awaited the coffin at the entrance to the Abbey, preceded it along the nave, chanting, "I am the Resurrection and the Life." When the coffin was laid on the bier, Purcell's funeral chant, "Lord, Thou Hast Been Our Refuge," was sung, and Dean Bradley and the whole assemblage sang, "Rock of Ages," and then while the coffin was being borne along the aisle to the grave, sang Mr. Gladstone's favorite hymn, "Praise to the Holiest in the Height."

The choir of Westminster Abbey is said to be fine at any time, but for this great occasion special arrangements had been made, and there was a recruiting of the best voices from several of the choirs of London, and many musical instruments beside. The result was to win general praise for the beauty, harmony and perfection of the music. The weird, dismal strains of a quartette of trombones, in a recess far above the heads of the congregation, playing the three splendid "Equali," Beethoven's funeral hymn, swept through the vaulted roof of the Abbey, in pure tones never to be forgotten. When these ceased and finally died away, the great organ and a band of brass instruments took up Schubert's funeral march, booming sonorously; and changed to Beethoven's funeral march with a clash of cymbals in the orchestral accompaniment. A third march being required, owing to the time needed by the procession to reach the Abbey, "Marche Solennelle" was played.

The choir, and a large number of bishops and other clergy, joined the procession at the west door and together they all proceeded to the grave.

There was no sermon. The service was simple and solemn. The final paean of victory over death and the grave from Paul's great epistle was read, and the last hymn sung was, "Oh God! Our Help in Ages Past." The dean read the appointed appropriate service, committing the body to the earth, and then the Archbishop of Canterbury, in a loud voice, pronounced the benediction. The family and others near the grave kneeled during the concluding ceremonies, and then Mrs. Gladstone was helped from her knees to her unoccupied chair at the head of the grave.

After the benediction came one of the saddest moments of the day. Mrs. Gladstone stood, with great courage and composure, throughout the service, supported on the arms of her two sons, Herbert and Stephen, and with other members of her family near the grave. Her face was lifted upward, and her lips were moving as though repeating the lines of the service. She also kept standing during the one official feature of the service; "The Proclamation by Garter, by Norroy, King of Arms, of the Style of the Deceased," as the official programme had it, and in which the various offices which Mr. Gladstone had held in his lifetime, were enumerated. Then, when the final word was spoken, the widow, still supported by her sons, approached the edge of the grave and there took a last, long look and was conducted away. Other relatives followed, and then most of the members of Parliament. Finally the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York and other pall-bearers defiled past the grave, took a last view of the coffin in the deep grave, and when they had been escorted down the nave to entrance, the people slowly departed.

The "Dead March" from "Saul" and the "Marche Solennelle" of Schubert was played as the congregation slowly wended its way out of the sacred edifice.

Perhaps the most solemn function of all, witnessed by none but the Gladstone family and the officials, was when the casket was opened shortly after midnight on Thursday to allow the Earl Marshal to verify with his own eyes that it really contained the remains of the dead statesman. It was said that the old man's face, seen for the last time by the Duke of Norfolk, who is responsible to England for his sacred charge, was more peaceful and younger looking than it had seemed for years. At the very last moment a small gold Armenian cross, a memento of that nation for which the great statesman worked so zealously, was placed by his side. Then all was sealed.