Heavy indeed was the burden of Empire which events, imposed last week upon the new King.
The weather was cold but sunny on the day Sandringham sent the last remains of beloved George V on a gun carriage to the railway station, with Queen Mary, the Princess Royal and the Duchesses of York. Gloucester and Kent following sorrowfully by carriage. King Edward and his three brothers walked bareheaded the whole two and a half miles, the collars of their closely-buttoned and furlined greatcoats upturned as they approached the station.
Norfolk villagers, with tears in their eyes, pressed as close as they respectfully could to the Royal Train. Jock, faithful pony of the late King-Emperor, was left with the country folk but Charlotte, the venerable parrot of George V, was put aboard the train which for the first half mile steamed along at a walking pace.
The hour set for arrival in London was 3 p. m. but somehow the train got there 15 minutes ahead of schedule. In the royal salon car as it drew into King's Cross Station a painful dilemma was in course. Gently the King urged Queen Mary and the Duchesses to alight at once and set out by limousine for Westminster Hall close by the Abbey, where George V was to lie in state. The Queen in her grief felt that she should not leave the railway station until the gun carriage bearing George V had rolled away. Assenting, the King then proposed to start the procession at once. The Queen reminded him that 3 p. m. was the hour at which Londoners expected the cortege to leave the station. Through the plate glass window of the salon. Edward VIII could be seen gently urging his point. Then he swung swiftly to the door of the car. Stepping out, His Majesty ordered the guard of honor, which had frozen at rigid attention, to "stand at ease'' until just before 3 p. m.
The ordeal of walking behind the casket, upon which now rested the Imperial State Crown brought from the Tower of London told visibly on Edward VIII as he tramped the additional three and one-half miles. At one point London's massed and silent grief for George V was broken by a brief, explosive cheer for Edward VIII. This was instantly chopped short by His Majesty who frowningly jerked his head in the direction of the cheer. As he plodded on. His Majesty began to limp from fatigue. As he forced himself on beside the Dukes of York and Gloucester, subjects noticed that King Edward repeatedly clenched his jaw, bit his lips.
The solemn lying in state of the body of George V evoked tremendous homage. Spontaneously Britons of all degrees hurried from Scotland. Wales, the English counties, London suburbs and all parts of the great metropolis to form a line eight-abreast which began more than a mile up the Thames Embankment and day & night filed sadly through Westminster Hall. It was so cold that middle-aged "Beefeaters" from the Tower and Gentlemen of the King's Guard wore their heaviest cloaks, but the four officers rigid at the corners of the bier stood in their uniforms only, chilled to the marrow. The great throng's moment of deepest emotion came when it was known that Queen Mary and Edward VIII, unannounced, had quietly entered by a side door. Down the mile-long line passed the simple affecting words, "The King and Queen are with us."