accompaniment; many of these carried flags, while others bore youngsters on their shoulders. Factory girls, arm in arm, danced upon the pavements; women seated upon hand-barrows were wheeled along in triumph by men; youths with pasteboard noses and painted faces played pranks in the roadway. These were the harmless saturnalia which took place as the dawn was breaking. Before 3 o’clock a row of people had taken their seats on the projecting stones of the Law Courts branch of the Bank of England, many also were resting on the kerbstones, and by the obelisks at Ludgate-circus men and boys were lying at full length taking a few hours’ sleep. The people, as usual, fraternized with the police. While the night lasted the question most frequently asked was, “Where can we get lodgings?” Shortly afterwards the universal question was, “Where can we get breakfast?” and outside the coffee shops the people gathered in little groups until the doors should be opened. Many cyclists threaded their way slowly through the streets, among them some ladies who received from the bystanders equivocal cheers. Before 4 o’clock some people had already taken their seats in the windows of the houses and offices, prepared with Anglo-Saxon patience to sit there for eight or ten hours. In Fleet-street and Ludgate-hill the predominating colours of the decorations were purple and gold. Square columns, surmounted by tripods bearing flowers, were erected at short intervals on either side of the street, and garlands of flowers were stretched from column to column. The obelisks in Ludgate-circus were draped in purple and gold cloth, with embossed shields and palms. In Ludgate-hill the columns were surmounted by relief banners of elephants, through whose trunks the line of garlands passed. These elephants, which were a striking feature of the decorations, were decked with purple and gold trappings, and were mounted on a base of Oriental design. The Griffin at Temple Bar was surrounded with flowers and evergreens, and the pedestal was adorned with palms, flags, and medallions. The newspaper offices in Fleet-street had made as brave a show of the decorative art as could be found anywhere upon the line of route.
In 1896, Queen Victoria became the longest-reigning British monarch but, mindful of the vast sums lavished on her Golden Jubilee celebrations, asked that any commemoration wait until the 60th anniversary of her accession the following year.
By then, the Empire was at its zenith and the Diamond Jubilee festivities became a celebration of this. The six-mile long circuit of the procession through London was lined by soldiers from all the colonies and dominions in their striking dress uniforms.
Seventeen carriages carried the Royal Family and other dignitaries, with that of the Queen pulled by eight white horses. Hundreds of thousands of people watched the parade as the best vantage points were rented out for enormous amounts. A first-floor room with five windows on Fleet Street was let for 300 guineas (about £30,000 now).
The crowd broke spontaneously into renditions of ‘God Save the Queen’ as she passed, with the throng remaining in good voice well into the night; the pubs stayed open until half past two in the morning. It was, the Queen recorded in her diary, ‘a never to be forgotten day’.
4 February 1901
Nothing could surpass in splendour the pageants which had been witnessed during the progress of the dead Queen from Osborne to Windsor. But it is here, where her life was mainly passed, and where her funeral scene has been performed, that the pathos of the stately ceremonial has been most keenly realized. There is no exaggeration in saying this; nor any underrating of the deep grief which is felt by all the subjects of the venerated lady who has been taken from those who revered her as mother, wife, and Queen. But Windsor seemed in some especial way to belong to Queen Victoria and she to it. It is but a few short weeks since she left the Castle on her customary visit to Osborne. Saturday saw her home-coming not to resume her sway in the ancient home of the English Sovereigns, but wept and mourned by innumerable multitudes. To-day her lifeless body will be laid beside that of her devoted husband, and the place that knew her shall know her no more. The personal affection which the Queen’s beautiful character created in the hearts of all her people was intensified in the case of the inhabitants of the royal borough by the fact that she lived among them, was seen month after month and year after year as she took her daily drives, and was known by the countless acts of benevolence and kindness dictated by her generous and sympathetic nature.
The morning of Saturday broke chill and damp, and rain fell during the early hours, causing many an anxious moment to those who had counted on a continuance of the glorious weather which has been experienced throughout the greater part of the week. At Windsor, fortunately, the suspense was not of long duration. As the people flocked into the town the sun pierced through the clouds; and although at no time was the sky serene, the proceedings of the day passed off without excessive discomfort to the public and with complete success from the spectacular point of view. The later hours of Friday saw every hotel in the town crowded with visitors, and on Saturday morning the early trains brought thousands of people from London and all the neighbouring towns, so that by 9 o’clock the streets were congested to such an extent as to render vehicular traffic impossible. All along the line of route to be pursued by the procession the town presented an appearance which none who saw it are likely to forget. The signs of mourning were universal. The houses were shrouded in purple hangings. The people were clad in the profoundest black. The demeanour of the crowds was markedly subdued and respectful, and everything betokened the heartfelt sorrow which is felt by all classes of society.
At the age of 81, Queen Victoria died on 22 January 1901 at Osborne House, her residence on the Isle of Wight. She had been ailing for some time, but her death nevertheless shocked the nation and threw the Court into confusion.
The Queen had not only presided since 1837 over a transformation of Britain’s way of life and a vast expansion of its empire, she had also outlived everyone who could remember how to bury a sovereign. Moreover, she had decreed that she wanted no black worn at her funeral and that the ceremony be appropriate to a ‘soldier’s daughter’.
After much indecision and squabbling, her body was taken first to London and then to Windsor. The Queen was dressed in white and her staff laid keepsakes in her coffin, including those of Prince Albert and of John Brown, the ghillie who had become close to her.
The funeral, attended by the Kaiser and many other European relations, took the form of a military procession. It did not pass off without a hitch, notably when at Windsor the horses pulling the gun carriage became flustered and had to be replaced by sailors, but its solemnity and grandeur were fitting accompaniments to the end of a reign, and of an age.
10 February 1906
But it is about the future rather than the present that misgiving prevails; the flood-gates seem to many to have opened, and Heaven knows what water they may let through. The Labour members, and especially the Socialistic element, may increase until they swamp everything. They may; but, if the foregoing diagnosis of the election be at all correct, it provides some reasons for doubting that this will happen. The Labour party will continue, and probably increase, but not at an alarming rate. The special circumstances of the present occasion will not be repeated, and great changes are much more often followed by reaction than by still greater changes in the same direction. The Labour party will now be on trial itself and subject to the pendulum. Behind organized labour stand the far larger ranks of unorganized labour, which everybody seems to forget; and they do not care two straws for trade union leaders or Socialists.
