"ROBERT," KING OF ENGLAND.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1043, 4 February 1911, Page 11

"ROBERT," KING OF ENGLAND.

LONDON'S TRIBUTE TO HER . POLICE. " . IMPRESSIVE . SERVICE AT. ST. ~ PAUL'S! . ' [Br Evelyn - Isitt.] London, Thursday, December 22. . ; Last 'Friday llight—and a wild blustering night fit for evil deeds it was—thero were three policemen on duty in one o£ th« less. important of the city tlvorough}ares, keeping their usual watch on tho closed shops and warehouses before which they paced, without a warning of what that cruel night had in store for them, or a possible thought that' to-day they would be. tho city's heroes, that the 6taets from St. Paul's Churchyard, far down to the East End would be thronged with' men come to do them honour, or that, the great Cathedral would open wide its . doors to the hushed multitude through whose, midst they would be borne. The Magic of His Hand. London its policemen. If the fact had not been familiar to you from childhood,. you would find as soon as you arrived here that the visitor was right who said "Robert is the real. King of England." Ho is also the most familiar figure in tho London landscape, and it is amazing how he- enters into, almost every phase of London life. It is not only that you see him at the street corners waiting, to give information, or in the middle of the busiest streets with his back set sternly against a roaring tide of traffic, controlling its turbulence with tho magic of his hand, but you meet with him elsewhere at every turn, in. the centre of the market lane. with a wary eye on the: dealers, qn the steps of the church at a wedding, shepherding the queue - that waits..patiently outside a theatre, and again at the tpp of the gallery stairs taking charge of .-the little wicket gate, pacing through the art galleries among the glories of the Raphaels and Titians, taking tickets at a railway station, guarding the gates of Parliament, and when the city gives itself to pageantry'springing up along the route like magic, till he and his comrades stand shoulder to shoulder iq such numbers that tho stranger rubs his cyi;s in amazement'at finding even tho world itself can contain so manv policemen. . His kindliness is proverbial, nnd Londoners, who have tho most perfect confidence in his trustworthiness, have also a strong affection for him. Grief and Indignation. ' A' tremendous sensation, a shock. of indignation and grief was caused when London heard the news of the tragedy that occurred on Friday night near 'Houndsditch, where three of-the policemen who, on' suspecting the presence of burglars in a small house, demanded admission, ;«ad were instantly shot b*.the inmates, one being'killed outright, and two others fatally injured. Such an outrage was almost; unheard of. The. policeman, who even at. night is not armed sayo'with a truncheon,"seldom has to cope with armed violence, though as this tragedy proved he does, not' falter for. a moment when he has tn ,fne» i'• Tfe men who had been murdered were hailed as martyrs in the cause of duty, and their foreign assailants—everyone was relieved to.know they were foreigners —were stvkd assassins. Leading'newspjipers suggested that the three .men should be accorded a public funeral, and the huge gathering in the ctiy this morning justified their suggjstion. The, while demonstration was most impressive, .and ohe felt that it .was npt only a tribute to' the'.three men who .had fallen in the path of duty, but to,all-.their living, com; rades,''who hcld'thenis?lres'r-ndv''''to do' the same, at any time, and who meanwhile serve, the coni"innitr in a thorsard ways. It was London's supreme tribute tA' her police force.

The Ssrvico at St. Paul's, Not for many years, say Londoners, has such a crowd congregated round the steps of St. Paul's as assembled there early in the. morning to wait for the service, which took place at midday. St. Paul's has seen many magnificent ceremonies on occasions of national jubilation and national mourning, but those who.found admittance then' were the noblest, the wealthiest, tho' most distinguished, of the laud. This was the first time .that" : a funeral service had been h'eld in' the national c'uurch for heroes'of such humble rank, and the great crowd who pressed for. entrance' represented every class of worker, from the city man to the riverside labourer. It was a crowd composed mainly of men, sombre in colour and most hushed and reverent, of demeanour, who stood there for hours,'stretching Tight across the roadway, which for practically half the day was blocked to traffic. Unable to gain admittance at the main door, very early closed to the public, •we went to the sonth door, and from the' steps watched as the ticket-holders were passed in; sailors, officials, policemen, one of them evidently an officer of some rank, who asked anxiously whether he had come to the right door. (In'some odd way bis nervousness at taking part 'in a ceremony where po doubt he had often been set in authority made ono realise more than iever how tremendously impressive this service must be to the members of the force), while others who brought 110 tickets were passed in as by riijlit, two nurses probably associated with the East End police, and men and women who were evidently well known as friends of the murdered men. An old quavering man who came without a ticket and begged to be allowed to go in, was bidden to stand near by at one side, and later on when the stream had passed one of thd sergeants called to "Daddy" and let him through that iron gate, The Floral Tributes, Every man in the crowd, with the exception of the police, uncovered as the procession'came in sight, the .hearses buried in flowers, the carriages overflowing with the wreaths that had been sent from every company of the local police, from the Lord Mayor, from tho Home Secretary, from taxi-cab drivers, firemen, postmen, newspaper sellers, hawkers, and flower-girls. The flower-girls of Liverpool Street, -which immediately adjoins Houridsditch, were among ' ■who sent iloral tributes to the men they must have, known, well. See the harp, Jim, see the harp," murmured one of the men on duty as there came into view what was evidently the tribute sent by his own division, a Jarge white harp with broken strings. This idea of a life cut short by violence jvas emphasised more frequently by the broken columns of white flowers,''emblems which were placed on each coffin and stood, out among tho wreaths in tho carTiages behind. A Wonderful Scene. Fivo thousand people were assembled inside the Cathedral, where they say no more representative gathering has ever been seen, and among them were some of Ixmdon's poorest, men, and women, and little round-eyed children. The Lord Mayor and his sheriffs, in robes of offico. were there in stale, representatives of every branch of civic life, sailors, here and there a. scarlet-clad soldier, postmen, firemen, with many hundred members of tho city and metropolitan police in their dark blue uniforms. It was a wonderful scene. Yellow lights, lovr-hting, shone softly through the hazy atmosphere, on the ivory-tinted walls, tho massive pillars, and the lofty archcs, beneath which the shadows lurked,-on the dull gold of the galleries, and oil the rich hues of the painted windows. It shone on the memorials to bygone heroes of naval and military fame. It was thrown back from the dull bronze surfnre of that beautiful yinsed memorial to the colonial trooper? in its distant niche, mid it fjleruned on tW white figure of Nelson,, instinct with vitality, which gazed sharply over the head* of that great congregation to the catafnlnucs by the chancel gates where the coffins were to rest. The Funeral Procession. The choir chanted the.opening sentences of the Burial Service. "I Am the Resurrection, and the. Life," and the vast congregation rose, as up tho aisle came tho

funeral procession, led by donn and choir and clergy, followed by the tall bearers, stalwart polico sergeants, bearing on their shoulders, abovo the heads of the crowd, the bodies of tho two sergeants who had died, while constables bore tho coffin of their comrade, and tho yellow lights shone softly on polished wood and silver, white (lowers and scarlet, and the dark helmet which surmounted each coffin.

It was a short ami simple service, and tho music that came from tho far-off choir and soared away into tho shadowy dome was of almost unearthly biauty. Never went' humble heroes to their grave accompanied by more, glorious strains. One thought of tho lives theso men had lived, performing all sorts of uninteresting, arduous, and tedious tasks, exposed to bitter inclement weather, dealing with tho roughest classes in London, and dying at tho last a violent death, and one found it very hard to associate the thought of them with this almost fairy music. The servico closed with tho congregational singing of "Rock of Ages." That was more like them, and afterwards came the Dead March in "Saul," magnificent and impressive in its lament and its triumphant tones, a march which must have been familiar to every policeman there. The last note died away, and there was silence while the crowd stood waiting, a silence broken by wave after wave of sound which surged through tho arches, and beat against tho walls, and 'rose into tho Wonder of Chopin's Funeral March, a marvellous close to a service that ono never could* forget.

Deep Emotion. Dean and clergy and choristers, the cross borne before them, passed in procession out iuto tho chapel beyond, and then down the central aisle again came the bearers of the three flower-wreathed coffins, each followed by its long train of mourners. One felt very sorry for the policemen then. The strain on them during these past few days had been very severe, the service had been almost overpowering in. its dignity and beauty and significance, and it was no wonder that now the tension snapped, and that the men who had been so self-controlled broke down; big burly riien shaken by emotion as they watched their dead com'rades being carried through the great doors and so cut to their last journey through the crowded streets. In the Cathedral five thousand people to do the dead honour, in the streets beyond tens of thousands waiting patiently through long hours to pay their last tribute of respect, as the procession took-its slow'way toward? tlio cemetery, which was only reached is the afternoon light faded from the sky. It was an extraordinary tribute to London's polico force, but more than that it was a somewhat stern demonstration of the horror felt by tho community at the outrage by which these men met their deaths, a very striking lesson for the lawless alien element which is felt to be such a menace to the city.