THE FUNERAL OF PRINCE LEOPOLD.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 3479, 30 May 1884, Page 2

THE FUNERAL OF PRINCE LEOPOLD.

The London correspondent of a contemporary gives a long and interesting description of the interment of the late Prince Leopold, from which the following is an extract: —Directly the coffin had been carried to the bier, in the centre of the choir, occurred, perhaps, the most striking incident in the pathetic ceremony. Military bands and pealing organs, the voices of white-robed clergymen, and the sobs of mourners are com mon to many funerals ; but it is rare, indeed to hear in St George’s Chapel, in the intervals between the song of praise and the prayer of priests, the voice of the officer in command giving directions to the soldiers who faithfully obeyed him. Admirably, indeed, and with befitting solemnity, did this particular officer of the Seaforth Highlanders take the lead in this incident of the ceremonial. The music had ceased, the voice of the Dean was silent, and tbea was heard the directing voice of the officer in command as he bade bis men lower decently their sad charge and burden. He did more than order ;he personally assisted, and, kneeling down, the commanding officer adjusted the coffin to the bier which sank slowly out of sight, leaving the floor of the choir and the entrance to the vault carpeted, as it were, with the covering Union Jack,and strewn with the last of the memorial flowers. Before the coffin bad been lowered from the choir it was made the resting-place of the coronet and insignia of the dead Duke, borne by bis old and faithful friends, Mr R. H. Collins, C. 6., and Major Waller, R.E., members of the Household of the Duke of Albany, and the mourners having grouped themselves about the entrance to the vault, the burial service proceeded. Let us try to picture the scene. The Dean of Windsor, the Canons and Minor Canons, are within tho altar rails, the Dean in the immediate centre, all in their white surplices. Immediately in front of them, on the lowest step of the chancel, are the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Steward in uniform and with wands of office, facing the mourners in the centre of tho choir. On the north side sits Her Majesty the Queen, in the middle of a group of Princesses in deepest mourning, whilst over against them stand the Seaforth Highlanders and the GarterKing at-Arms. Appointed places are given to the pall-bearers and to the servants and household on either side of the bier, whilst the whole floor of the choir is filled with mourners, headed by His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, who stands bowed down with

grief at the head ofjthe coffin. The service, bo far arrested by the military incident and Jthe mournful words of command, is taken up again by the choir,'who begin the grand old hymn “ 0 God, our help in ages past," to the well-known tune called St. Anne’s It is followed by the declamation, not intonation, of the pathetic 39th Psalm, ‘‘l said I will take heed to my ways; that I offend not in my tongue," and by the reading of the Funeral Lesson, the 15th chapter of Corinthians. A happy interval of music next occurs. It is the singing of the anthem, Spohr’s “Blest are the deported,” and few in the chapel can restrain their tears as organ and voices join in exquisite harmony, and fill the brilliant chapel with waves of melody. The service is continued by the Dean, still standing on the highest altar step commanding this sad but impressive scene; first, the sentences

usually spoken at the grave whilst the corpse is made ready for the earth, “Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery,” until the moment, in the subsequent prayer, when a handful of earth is thrown upon the departing coffin—“ Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of His great mercy to take unto Himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground —earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust—in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.” It fell to the lot of Mr Walter Campbell, one of the pall-bearers, and the most intimate friend of the Duke of Albany, to perform this last act in the sad ceremony. Distinctly could be heard during the touching pause of silence the earth and the stones rattling agninst the sides of the coffin half lowered to its resting. 1 place. But tho effort of devotion ; proved toff much for tho young friend, j and he fairly broke down, covering his streaming eyes with his haaderchief, and <

perfectly prostrated with grief. The appointed collects were followed by the comforting benediction, and then once more the choristers broke in with their singing of the concluding hymn, one of the most beautiful modern religious lyrics in the English langu»ge. It was the hymn called “ Lead, kindly light,” which was written by Cardinal Newman on the eve of his departure from the English Church, and which contains sentiments singularly in accordance with the feelings of all who were present, and mourned not only a Prince, but an affectionate friend. None could have listened unmoved to such words as those uttered by the surpliced choir and sung to the well-known tune from “ Hymns Ancient and Modern,” and none could have failed to see their peculiar significance on the present occasion : So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it Will lead me on [still O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is gone; And with the morn those angels’ faces smile Which I have loved long since and lost awhile. Amen.

During the singing of the last verso of this exquisite hymn Her Majesty and the attendant Princesses silently went out, and they were gone when the last notes of the melody died away and the religious part of the service was at an end.