A SOLDIER’S BURIAL

Evening Star, Issue 18050, 18 August 1922, Page 7

A SOLDIER’S BURIAL

FUNERAL OF MURDERED / FIELD-MARSHAL. BETWEEN ROBERTS AND WOLSELBY [From Ode London Correspondent.] June 29. Nothing at all was "wanting to make solemnly impressive tho slow passing of the murdered Field-Marshal Sir Henry Wilson to hia grave in St. Paul’s. Great silent crowds filled the streets, in startling contrast with those' that lined the route to greet the Prince last week, only the •lay before Sir Henry Wilson was shot down, latchkey in hand, on his own doorstep. A dramatic pall of- storm clouds threw a sombre shade over the city, and an Irish drizzle from the south-west fell dismally on roof and road. I watched the long, stately funeral procession wind round the Embankment. First the life Guards, tho Blues and the Rede, in their distinctive cloaks, their horses stepping slowly. Then the Foot Guards—Grenadiers, Coldstroams, Scots, and Welsh, but no Irish—with arms reversed, save only tho color parties, whoso rifles with fixed bayonets were at tho slope. Now the Field-Marshal's while charger, saddled but riderless, with reversed top-boots in tho stirrups. And now the gun carriage, drawn by bays ridden by R.H.A. drivers in the blue and gold of that famous corps, with tho flag-draped coffin, on which rested Sir Henry's whito-plumcd hat and sword. Around the gun-camago marched the pall-bcarors, a sol emu-vis a god galaxy of illustrious commanders, Ifoch, Haig, French, and Beatty conspicuous among them all. Then, came a single carriage in which sat Lady Wilson. At her passing even the lowest whispers of the awed crowd were hushed.

Tho finest body of men in the procession was tho Ulster Volunteer contingent, a platoon of grim giants, as smartly turned out as any of tho Guards, and marching with perfect precision. Bub the Ulster Specials ran them close, and drew the client admiration of the London crowd, who recognised men bearing ‘an aura of heroism. Motor cars laden with flowers of magnificent hues and profuse wealth followed last of all. As tho gun-carriage reached Blackfriars tho guns from the Park boomed out their echoing requiem, in final adieu to the great soldier whose oar was so long -tuned to them, the military bands throbbed into funeral rhap-

sody,, and all the troopß slow-marched. And so up tho steep lull into tho vast shadow of St. Paul’s, whero "with dirges duo in sad-array ” Field-Marshal Wilson wag laid between Wolseley and “ Bobs,” and tho Guards’, buglers sent the heartrending cadences of ‘ Tho Last Post ’ winding over his open grave. POLICE PRECAUTIONS.

That tho authorities were afraid of some sort -of demonstration was* proved by the elaborate precautions taken in St. Paul's Churchyard. Tho-chairman of a,city company, who has seen every ceremony at St. Pawl’s for twenty-fivo years, told me that this was tli© first occasion tho public had been excluded from tho churchyard. A few people, however, were allowed through tho barriers just as the funeral procession reached the top of Ludgato Circus. Tho silence in the vast empty space was most impressive, the cooing of the- pigeons being the only sound until tho giant bell began to toll This was by special license, tho bells normally being tolled only for Royalty, the Lord Mayor, or the Dean. Tho police were even afraid that some further outrage might bo perpetrated at Sir Henry Wilson's house in Eaton square before -the funeral. A strong guard was posted there over the week-end to prevent any possible attempt to seize tho body, a fear that proved to bo groundless, but was certainly entertained. All dav on Sunday there was a small crowd outside the bouse, and not a man massed tho door witbpnt moving his hat. Several women laid weaths on the •steps without disturbing the household by ringing the bell.