Transcribed from South Africa Magazine, 12 April 1902

THE LATE MR. RHODES

FUNERAL PROCESSION TO RHODESIA AND BURIAL IN THE MATOPPOS

SOLEMN AND HISTORIC SCENES

AN IMPOSING SERVICE IN ST. PAUL’S CATHEDRAL

THE WEEK’S NEWS AND COMMENTS

THE JOURNEY NORTHWARD

A LAST “HOMECOMING”

UNIVERSAL MOURNING

As stated in our last issue, the funeral train bearing the remains of Mr. Rhodes left Cape Town on Thursday last week, after scenes of impressive solemnity in the southern metropolis, and, passing through some of the most pronounced Dutch districts of the Cape Colony, was greeted with signs of the greatest respect, real sorrow being apparent on every hand. The coffin was near the head of the train, in a kind of chapel consisting of the De Beers Directors’ car, and the remainder of the cars were formed by the train de luxe which has already been illustrated in South Africa, and was built under Mr. Rhodes’s instruction for future use on the Rhodesian Railways, but had hitherto only been used once—for the conveyance of the Prince of Wales from Simon’s Town to Cape Town last August.

REMARKABLE DEMONSTRATIONS

From Fraserburg Road on Friday the correspondent of the Daily Mail telegraphed: The beautiful train in which Mr. Cecil Rhodes’s body and the funeral party are being conveyed to Bulawayo has been the centre of remarkable demonstrations at every station, even in the dead of night. Great crowds, including many of the Dutch population, assembled at the wayside halting places, some of them traveling unheard-of distances. Grief-stricken men, women, and young people file past the mortuary car and deposit wreaths or single posies on the coffin as a small but most important mark of respect for Mr. Rhodes. The progress resembles the triumphant journey of Mr. Rhodes to Cape Town from Matabeleland in 1894. Another correspondent stated that almost the whole population, both English and Dutch, along the route by which the train conveying Mr. Rhodes’s remains passed, crowded the stations to see the coffin and deposit floral tributes.

At Beaufort West General French met the train with his staff, and a commandant was present at Matjesfontein. At Laingsburg before dawn ladies awaited the train bringing wreaths. All along the line the garrisons at the blockhouses awaited the train, standing at attention with arms reversed.

KIMBERLEY’S SORROW

The train reached Kimberley at four o’clock on Saturday morning. Its arrival was followed by a remarkable demonstration of sorrow, about fifteen thousand people, consisting largely of employes of the De Beers Company, all dressed in mourning, filing past the coffin, around which more than a hundred additional wreaths were deposited. The train resumed its journey at a quarter to eleven amid the strains of a band playing the “Dead March.”

ARRIVAL AT MAFEKING

Two thousand whites and 7000 natives took part in a demonstration when the funeral train reached Mafeking at half-past two on Sunday afternoon. It was an extraordinary scene of sorrow. The men of the Baralong tribes, who assisted so gallantly in the defence of that town and who regarded Mr. Rhodes much as his native soldiers regarded Nicholson, were, by order of their chief, drawn up beside the railway lines. Mr. Petizius Winter, the Mayor of Mafeking, was on the platform of the station, accompanied by a deputation bringing wreaths to add to the many tokens of sympathy already deposited on and about the coffin. The crowds of people who had gathered in the neighbourhood of the station were permitted to file past the car which bore the coffin. The whole town turned out to salute the train. Colonel Wilford, D.S.O., was present on the platform, with a detachment of the British South Africa Police, and Guards of Honour were furnished by the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment and the Town Guard, which includes hundreds of men who served through the siege.

STILL NORTHWARD

The train reached Palapye on Monday. Khama did not come to meet it as was expected. It is probable (telegraphed the Mail correspondent that King Khama was too busy arranging the gigantic task of removing his whole tribe to Sekuli, thirty miles west from Palapye, where the water is giving out. Dr. Jameson (who had been reported to be slightly unwell, is better, and the rest of the party are well, in spite of the long and trying journey. Says another correspondent: An armoured train, swinging its searchlight round the dark country, preceded us from Lobatsi, dropping us at Crocodile Pools. At Magalapye a party of surrendered Transvaalers met the train. They number thirty families, and are living three miles from the line. The natives again assembled at this point of the line. The weather is delightful, and the country at its best. Khama is said to be engaged in important affairs of State, and does not, as was expected, meet the train at Palapye Road.

THE GATES OF RHODESIA

The train passed through Francistown on Monday, when Khama’s brother and other chiefs came to pay their respects to the remains. From this station a correspondent dispatched the following: We have arrived at Francistown at last, and stand at the gates of Rhodesia. Our escort of Cape Police have been relieved by troopers in the service of the Chartered Company, who have now taken over the honoured task of mounting guard over the body of their Chief. The night is hot, and on the station platform are groups of men in shirt-sleeves and mining dress, and a few women—all, indeed, who could come hither to pay tribute to the body as it passes through. The native Chiefs are also in attendance. Ever since leaving Vryburg, we have traveled through forest country. The Bechuanaland veld is looking very beautiful after the rains and the fresh green of its verdure is cheering and refreshing. But the region is a curiously lonely one—a vast solitude calling for human habitation. Tomorrow we shall reach Bulawayo, where will be enacted the final scenes of these great obsequies. The funeral procession has, to all intents, extended over thirteen hundred miles. It has been a home-coming worthy of a great chief and master of men, and no eloquence could portray its significance and its pathos in befitting terms.

ARRIVAL AT BULAWAYO

The funeral train arrived at Bulawayo at half-past nine on Tuesday morning. The remains were at once conveyed to the drill hall, where they lay in state. The route was lined by crowds of people. Colonel Rhodes and Dr. Jameson were in the funeral procession, which was a mile in length. Thousands flocked to the drill hall to pay the last respects to the founder of Rhodesia, and a large number of wreaths were laid upon the coffin. Black draperies were displayed everywhere.

The induna Faku sent the following touching message to the Government and Miss Rhodes: “I am an old man on the brink of the grave. I was content to die knowing that my children and my people would be safe in the hands of Mr. Rhodes, who was at once my father and my mother. That hope is taken from me, and I feel that the sun has indeed set for me. I am now given over to hopeless grief.”

Large crowds, says a correspondent telegraphing on Tuesday, had gathered in and around the station, and a gun-carriage, with an escort of the Chartered Company’s Police, was drawn up inside the station enclosure. There was no band in attendance, but on the appearance of the coffin the troops presented arms, and a bugle sounded the “general salute.” A procession was then formed to the Drill Hall, where the casket will lie in State until Thursday, when it will be conveyed to its final resting place in the Matoppos. The public will be permitted to view the body today. All business is, of course, suspended in Bulawayo. The houses are draped with mourning, and above one of the buildings appears the well-worn, but singularly appropriate motto, “Si monumentum quaeris, circumspice.” The Government have made the most complete and elaborate arrangements for the proper conduct of the obsequies in the Matoppos.

ANOTHER LYING IN STATE

The casket containing the body of Mr. Rhodes, telegraphed the special correspondent of the Standard from Bulawayo on Wednesday, was placed in the Drill Hall yesterday, under a great canopy of black silk. The bier was guarded by a captain’s guard, under the command of Captain Daniel Judson, and sentries were posted round the canopy. On each side of the coffin stood an officer of the Rhodesian Volunteers, motionless, with drawn sword. A veiled electric light, and the great waxen candles, served only to accentuate the gloom and somberness of the Hall. Throughout the day and far into the night, the people filed silently past the bier. Their demeanour was remarkable; it left no doubt as to the sincerity of their grief.

At the special Memorial Service held in the Drill Hall on Wednesday the attendance numbered fully 1000. Bishop Gaul, who officiated, read the first portion of the funeral service, and the procession then began its march through the town to the burial place in the Matoppo Hills. The cortege was headed by escorts of British South African Police and Southern Rhodesian Volunteers. Next came the processional cross, followed by the choir, the clergy, and Bishop Gaul. The behaviour of the spectators was most reverential.

The Times correspondent states that a very simple memorial service was conducted in the presence of 1000 white people from all parts of Rhodesia. A procession half a mile long, including the remnant of the pioneers of 1890 and 1893, who acted as pall-bearers, traversed the town, and the body afterwards left for the Matoppos.

In the centre of the huge Drill Hall, said the Morning Post correspondent, a mighty catafalque has been erected, beneath which, banked in by wreaths, lies the casket containing the body. All the electric lights in the hall are veiled with crape. At the head of the catafalque rise two great waxen candles and a brazen cross. A captain’s guard, under the command of Captain Dan Judson, is in charge of the Drill Hall. At each corner stood a sentry leaning on reversed arms, and at each side of the bier was a stalwart officer of the Rhodesian Volunteers, standing erect with sword drawn.

As we approached the town, continues the correspondent of the Morning Post, we saw in the distance Government House, standing on the ancient “place of killing,” and, away to the right, flat-topped Thabas Induna, heavy with memories of the Empire-maker’s early triumphs. At the station were great crowds of people—the bare-headed mourning crowds which have thronged our path for thirteen hundred miles. At the far end of the platform there awaited our arrival a gun-carriage surrounded by a little group of citizens—prominent townsmen and pioneers. In the background stood a squad of the British South Africa Company’s Police, and attending the gun-carriage was a small detachment of non-commissioned officers of the highest rank.

PROCESSION FROM THE STATION

Without a hitch and without delay the coffin was removed to the gun-carriage, and the rifles of the police rose and fell as the men presented arms to the brazen blare of the bugles sounding the salute. Then in simple silence a procession was formed, which wended its way to the Drill Hall, the Queen’s wreath, now a little faded, owing to its long journey, being carried behind the coffin. Surely a more reverent crowd it was impossible to meet than that which swept slowly along beside the procession as it moved towards the Drill Hall. The road was lined by the Chartered Company’s troops, looking well set up, smart, soldierly, potent to the doing of honour, but for the keeping of order unneeded. At the Drill Hall we left the body, and then proceeded to the quarters apportioned to us as guests of the Government.

THE CITY’S MOURNING

Bulawayo was indeed in mourning. Every building was hung with the somber trappings of woe, and business for the time being was suspended.

Many of those who filed past the bier, says Reuter, were in tears, and some of the old Rhodesians lingered before the wreath-covered coffin, and seemed loth to leave. At night one brilliant jet of electric light was thrown on the coffin, the rest of the hall being in complete darkness. Over all were the words, “Requiescat in pace.”

Looking from the verandah of Fuller’s Hotel, over the valley of the Molemo and Mr. Rhodes’s great farm, one sees, said the Standard correspondent, something like a thousand people encamped, in readiness for tomorrow’s ceremony. A great trek has been organized, and the scene promises to be one unprecedented in history. Mr. Rhodes’s body lies in state in his own farm, which he had so often used as a meeting place with the indunas in indaba.

AT THE GRAVESIDE

The whole party accompanying Mr. Rhodes’s remains to their last resting place left Fuller’s Hotel on Thursday morning in one long procession, which extended through the hills and gorges for a length of five miles. It included every variety of vehicle, men on horseback, men on cycles, and many on foot—all determined to be present at the last ceremony.

The scene at the last outspan, says Reuter’s correspondent, was a most striking one. Here, a mile from the grave, every one dismounted and the rest of the distance was covered on foot. It was, in fact, at this point that the funeral procession proper was formed. No vehicles were allowed, but even with these excluded the line of mourners was still a mile in length. The military forming the guard of honour marched with arms reversed, and the whole moved slowly off to the strains of the “Dead March” in Saul, played by a band, the weird strains re-echoing among the hills. A detachment of volunteers brought up the rear.

THE PLACE OF BURIAL

is a large stone kopje, so steep and rugged as to be almost inaccessible. The coffin was drawn up the heights by 12 oxen. The hills were lined with wondering natives, standing like statues and at first holding back, but finally the indunas Shembli, Faku, and Umgula came down, and over 2000 natives were present at the last rite. All seemed greatly impressed, and the words “My father is dead” were heard on all sides among them.

The procession finally reached the place of interment, and punctually at noon the Bishop of Mashonaland began.

THE FUNERAL SERVICE

The final scene was a most impressive one. About 1000 whites were congregated around the wind-swept hill, but the accommodation in the immediate vicinity of the grave was very limited. The grave, which is cut 3 ft. deep into the solid rock, is encircled by six boulders, and the whole space around it is only 15 yards long.

A Union Jack lay on the coffin, which was lowered into the grave with chains, the wreath from the Queen and those from Mr. Rhodes’s brothers and Dr. Jameson being let down with it.

Many people were in tears, and the natives were full of emotion, every one feeling that a great chief had gone. In the course of the service, the Bishop, speaking in impressive tomes, consecrated the grave in the following words:--

“I consecrate this place for ever as his grave. Here he fought, here he lived and died for the Empire, fully alive to the great mystery of death.”

The Old Hundredth was afterwards sung by all present, and also the hymn “Now the labourer’s task is o’er.” The other portions of the service were chanted. At its conclusion, the band again played the “Dead March” in Saul.

At the end of all, the people reverently passed round the grave in turn, quantities of flowers being thrown upon it. The whole place around the grave was covered with wreaths.

THE NATIVES

on Thursday night brought their Chief 15 oxen to be slain as sacrifices, so that, as far as they are concerned, Mr. Rhodes, whom they mourn as their only Chief, will have been buried with the same honours as Mosilikatze. Their mourning ceremonies lasted all night.

Dr. Jameson, Colonel Rhodes, and all the other mourners who were not residents left Bulawayo on Thursday night by special train.

A VIVID PICTURE

The special correspondent of the Morning Post gives the following picture of the last scene. Dating his telegram from “the heart of the Matoppos,” he says: A great crowd of persons has been conveyed hither in all sorts and conditions of vehicles. They are encamped in a lovely valley amid bright sunlight and beautiful weather. Mighty kopjes of piled-up granite boulders wall us in on every side. To our left, outlined against the sky, stands the gun-carriage on the summit of the Mountain of the “World’s View.”

The body was brought from the Indaba Hut early this morning, and the difficult ascent of the hill was accomplished by nine o’clock without accident. The body now awaits only the final ceremonies. A long procession of police carrying the Queen’s and other wreathes, which will be laid on the surrounding rock, has just ascended the mountain. The decorum and order of the crowd are remarkable. Fresh wagons are arriving every moment. The men’s costumes, striking features of which are shirt sleeves and big slouch hats, is most picturesque.

One hundred indunas and 1000 Matabele have gathered to witness the burial. Cattle will be killed for them tonight. Some of the natives have tramped 100 miles in order to be present at the interment. The head-dresses of the younger men are gay, and with the ring-headed men they make up an impressive spectacle.

THE LAST SCENE

The sublime obsequies concluded at half-past twelve on Thursday with the placing of the coffin in a vault hewn from the solid granite at the summit of the Mountain of the “World’s View.” Bishop Gaul gave a short address and read a poem by Mr. Rudyard Kipling over the grave. Sekombo, the great induna orator of the Matabele, made an important utterance at the conclusion of the ceremony. He said that both Mr. Rhodes and Umsiligazi, the founder of the Matabele nation, were buried on mountains in the Matoppos, and that the Matabele now considered that the spirit of Umsiligazi was with Mr. Rhodes.

MR. KIPLING’S POEM

The following are the last three verses of the poem by Mr. Rudyard Kipling, which appeared in the Times on Wednesday, and was read at the burial:--

Dreamer devout, by vision led

Beyond our guess or reach,

The travail of his spirit bred

Cities in place of speech.

So huge the all-mastering thought that drove—

So brief the term allowed—

Nations not words he linked to prove

His faith before the crowd.

It is his will that he look forth

Across the lands he won—

The granite of the ancient north—

Great spaces washed with sun;

There shall he patient make his seat

(As when the death he dared)

And there await a people’s feet

In the paths that he prepared.

There, til the vision he foresaw

Splendid and whole arise,

And unimagined empires draw

To council ‘neath his skies.

The immense and brooding spirit still

Shall quicken and control.

Living he was the land, and dead

His soul shall be her soul.

SOUTH AFRICAN TRIBUTES

AT JOHANNESBURG

As a tribute to the memory of the late Mr. Rhodes, business was suspended at Johannesburg during the time of the burial ceremony in the Matoppo Hills. All flags were placed at half-mast. The Stock Exchange and the offices of the Chamber of Mines were closed for the day, and a number of the principal buildings were suitably draped. The president and officials of the Chamber of Mines attended the memorial service.

THE PRETORIA TOWN COUNCIL

on Wednesday held its first meeting since the death of Mr. Rhodes. Mr. Loveday, the Chairman, moved a resolution expressing the Council’s sense of the irreparable loss to the Empire, and particularly to that portion of it, through the death of Mr. Rhodes. He desired, he said, to have placed on record an appreciation of the enormous services which Mr. Rhodes had rendered to the cause of civilization and to the progress of South Africa. Though many had differed from Mr. Rhodes politically, all agreed with him in the one great object which he kept constantly in view—namely, the development and expansion of South Africa. He was a statesman who wanted equality for all white men in South Africa, and whose loss would be most keenly felt, like the loss of all strong men, of which there were but a few in South Africa. His death must affect the interests of South Africa long after they had passed away, but his memory would be dearly cherished and his work would live. The resolution was unanimously adopted, the Councillors standing.

The Durban Town Council has passed a resolution deploring the death of Mr. Rhodes, and expressing appreciation of his great work.

The Portuguese Governor of Manicaland telegraphed to Mr. Milton, the Administrator of Southern Rhodesia, expressing his deepest sympathy on the occasion of the death of Mr. Rhodes, and adding, “Manicaland has ever had the liveliest admiration and the most profound veneration for Rhodes.”

THE LAMENT OF THE MATABELE

Baba N’Kosi! Chief and Father!

Friend to all the old indunas

To the broken Matabele—

Children of Mosilikatze!

Once again you come among us

Once again unarmed we greet you

Do you hear us, great N’kosi!

Woe to all the Matabele

For our father does not hear us!

Let us gather round his mountain

Where is set his tomb, incwaba;

Pray that he persuade the Spirits

That they send his like to guide us

Fierce and brave—yet understanding.

W. B. FLETCHER ROBINSON (in the Express)

MEMORIAL SERVICE AT ST. PAUL’S

A SOLEMN SUPPLICATION “IN STREAMING LONDON”S

CENTRAL ROAR.”

LAST GRAND FAREWELL TO CECIL RHODES AMID THE

ROLL OF DRUMS AND THE HUSHED VOICE OF

HEARTFELT PRAYER

THE EMPIRE’S TRIBUTE IN ITS CAPITAL TO THE GREAT MAN GONE

“Lead Out the pageant: sad and slow

As fits an universal woe,

Let the long, long procession go,

And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow,

And let the mournful, martial music blow;

The last great Englishman is low.

Mourn, for to us he seems the last,

Remembering all his greatness in the past.”

Tennyson

On Thursday, while the remains of the late Cecil Rhodes were being laid to their eternal rest in their rock-hewn place of sepulchre in the lonely Matoppos, a never-to-be-forgotten ceremony was accomplished in the stately Cathedral of St. Paul, in the very heart of London, the capital of the Empire. For centuries past no career has impressed the general public like that of the late great Empire-builder, and the National sentiment found expression in the National Cathedral. The arrangements throughout were grandly simple, and it was known beforehand that they would be so, but that did not prevent a gathering under the stately dome of all that is recognized today as of the very best in our national life. Quietly, reverently, and entirely without ostentation, representatives of Royalty, the Government, State-craft, Literature, Philosophy, Finance, and Adventure gathered together to show their appreciation of a life devoted to the highest interests of our Empire. From the time the service was announced there was the greatest anxiety on the part of all who knew Mr. Rhodes to be present at the Service of Solemn Supplication, as it was described on the order for the prayers. So that there should be no confusion, the Chartered Company undertook the distribution of an enormous number of tickets, while a large portion of the space in the Cathedral was thrown open to all comers. The steps taken to secure an orderly service were of the simplest, but, at the same time, they secured perfect regularity. The service was timed to begin at half-past two o’clock in the afternoon; but long before then crowds of mourners began filing into the nave and aisles. They continued to do so till accommodation could be found for no more, and then the disappointed consoled themselves by lingering around the doors and watching the arrival of those who had been favoured with tickets for the seats in the transept and under the dome. The traffic was going on as usual, but, for all that, a great solemnity seemed to have fallen upon the City; and in its busiest haunts, namely, the Stock Exchange and Throgmorton Street, the ordinary avocations of its habitués were entirely suspended. So far as the demeanour of the “man-in-the-street” was concerned, the occasion might well have been the ornate funeral of one of the grandest figures in the State instead of a remarkably simple memorial service for one who, at the time of his passing, held no active official status in the Empire, and for whom a funeral in the wilds of a new Colony was his own choice. Inside the Cathedral the scene was of the most impressive character. The grey shafts of the afternoon light of a chilly spring day shone through the great windows upon a vast congregation, moving quietly to their seats to the music of the fine band of the Coldstream Guards. Peer and statesman, bronzed explorer and pale student, soldier and man of peace softly traversed the great spaces of the Cathedral and sank into their seats in attitudes of prayer and resignation. The Lady Mayoress had very kindly placed her private pew at the disposal of the principal mourners, the brothers and sisters of the late Mr. Rhodes and their families, while she herself sat in the choir. The following members of the family of Mr. Rhodes were present: Captain and Mrs. Ernest Rhodes and two children, Captain Bernard Rhodes, Miss Louisa Rhodes, Miss Edith Rhodes, Mrs. Rhodes, Mr. and Mrs. William Rhodes. The King was represented by General Godfrey Clerk, C.B., the Queen by Earl de Grey, and the Prince of Wales by Lieut.-Colonel the Hon. Sir W. Carington, C.B.; Mr. J. H. Choate, United States Ambassador, and Baron H. von Eckhardstein, Councillor and First Secretary of the German Embassy, represented foreign Powers; and the High Commissioner for Canada and the Agents-General for New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, Queensland, West Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand, the Cape of Good Hope, and Natal were present. Lord Salisbury could not be in attendance, but the Hon. Schomberg McDonnell, C.V.O., C.B., was there in his stead. Of politicians the list was very long. It included the Lord Chancellor, Mr. Balfour, Mr. Chamberlain, Mr. Asquith, M.P., Lord Balfour, the Hon. A. Brand, M.P., Mr. Butcher, M.P., Mr. Bryce, M.P., Mr. Burdett-Coutts, M.P., Mr. Sydney Buxton, M.P., Mr. Evelyn Cecil, M.P., Mr. Jesse Collings, M.P., Lord Elcho, Mr. Hayes Fisher, M.P., Sir Edward Carson, K.C., M.P., Mr. Arnold-Foster, M.P., Lord Fortescue, Lord Farquhar, Major Gosehen, M.P., Mr. Herbert Gladstone, M.P., Lord George Hamilton, M.P., Mr. Hanbury, M.P., Lord Harris, Mr. Hoult, M.P., Lord James of Hereford, Lord Knutsford, Sir F. Dixon-Hartland, M.P., Mr. Walter Long, the Hon. J. Scott-Montagu, M.P., Mr. Harwood, M.P., the Master of Elibank, M.P., Mr. W. A. McArthur, M.P., Lord Hardwicke, the Hon. George Peel, Mr. J. A. Pease, M. P., (with whom was Mrs. Pease), Mr. Paulton, M.P., Mr. Ritchie, Lord Tweedmouth (with whom was Lady Tweedmouth), Colonel Sir Howard Vincent, M.P., Mr. George Wyndham, Mr. Yerburg, M.P., and Mr. Wanklyn, M.P. Other distinguished persons present who had been closely associated with the dead man were the Duke of Fife, the Duke of Abercorn, the Duke of Teck, Lord Grey, and Lord Roberts. Oxford was represented by the Vice-Chancellor, and Oriel College by Dr. Shadwell and the Dean (Mr. Hall). Yet there remains a long list of ticket-holders, every name in which recalls some special memory of, or connection with Mr. Rhodes. It included Lord Annaly, Sir John Akerman, Sir Robert Affleck, Sir Frederick Abel, the Bishop of Brisbane, representing the Church in Australia, Sir Graham Bower, Colonel Beale, C.M.G., Mr. Alfred Beit, Lord Arthur Butler, Sir George Birdwood, Mr. C. Boyd, Mr. Herbert Barker, “General” Booth (Salvation Army), Mr. and Mrs. R. H. Benson, the Directors of the Consolidated Gold Fields of South Africa, Limited, Lady Moyra Cavendish, Lord Chesham, Sir Marshall Clarke and Lady Clarke, representatives of the Chamber of Commerce, Mr. Edward Dicey, C. B., the Directors and staff of De Beers Consolidated Mines, Limited, the Hon. Julia Dutton, Dr. Walford Davies, Lady Decies, Mr. E. Davis, Mr. H. J. Deary, Baron Frederic d’Erlanger, Sir Robert Pearce Edgcumbe, Sir Leslie Falkiner, Sir Douglas Fox, Mr. H. Wilson Fox (joint Manager of the British South Africa Company) and the Hon. Mrs. Wilson Fox, Sir Frederick Frankland, Dr. J. K Fowler, Mr. J. A. Grant, the Hon. Maurice Gifford, C.M.G., Lord Gifford, V.C., and Lady Gifford, the Dowager Lady Gifford, Mr. Arthur Grenfell and Lady Victoria Grenfell, Mr. J. P. Grenfell, Mr. P. Lyttelton Gell and the Hon. Mrs. Lyttelton Gell, Lady Macpherson-Grant, Mr. Hirschler (late Mayor of Bulawayo), Major Colin Harding, C.M.G., Mrs. Hugh Hole, Lieutenant Colonel J. Hanbury-Williams, C.M.G., Mr. H. Ryder Haggard, Mr. Bourchier F. Hawksley and Mrs. Hawksley, Dr. Rutherfoord Harris, Lord Howick, Sir Harry Johnston, Mr. Jones (Joint Manager and Secretary of the British South African Company) and Mrs. Jones, Canon Knox-Little, Lieutenant-Colonel Julian Leverson, C.M.G., Mr. A. L. Lawley, Lady Loch, Mr. F. Lowrey, Mrs. Lewis, L. Michell, Mr. Iwan Muller, Mrs. E. S. Milton, Sir Richard Martin, Mr. Rochfort Maguire and the Hon. Mrs. Maguire, Sir Clement Markham, Mr. Henry Partridge, Sir W. H. Preece, Major Ricarde-Seaver, Mr. T. Blair Reynolds, representatives of the Royal Society, Mr. and Mrs. C. D. Rudd and Miss Rudd, Dr. Hans Sauer, Mr. and Mrs. Stead, Mr. Ernest E. Schnadhorst, Miss Flora L. Shaw, representatives of the South African banks, Mrs. Scott-Turner, Mr. John Tweed, Mr. Percy Tarbutt, Lady Helen Vincent, representatives of the Union-Castle Company, Mr. Arnold White, Sir John Willoughby, Mr. Samuel Weil, Major the Hon. Robert White, the Hon. Charles White, Mr. Julius Weil, Mr. Weatherley, Sir J. Wolfe-Barry (Chairman of the Eastern Telegraph), Lady Sarah Wilson, Mr. and Mrs. Wernher, Mr. and Mrs. R. H. Benson, Mr. Arthur and Lady Victoria Grenfell, Lord Howick, Mr. Francis Fox, Mr. Robert Williams, Mr. Herbert Canning, Mr. E. C. Clegg, Mr. and Mrs. George Cawston. Lady Alexander Hamilton, and Mr. Percy Inskipp. The altar was undraped, while there were no artificial lights save those in the choir, and the general air of gloom seemed fitting to the wailing music of the band. The somber tones which prevailed were indeed brought only into greater contrast by the scarlet of the military performers, and the white robes of the waiting clergy and choristers. The bandsmen were stationed immediately under the dome and in front of the gates admitting to the choir. Mr. Rogan, the conductor, had strengthened his forces with drummers from the Grenadier Guards, making some sixteen side, tenor and bass drums and tympani. The first piece performed was an old but beautiful funeral march called “Regrets,” the name of whose composer has been forgotten. This was followed by the touching In Memoriam overture in C, by Sir Arthur Sullivan; but the third piece deeply stirred the already solemnized congregation. It was the “Trauermarsch” from Wagner’s Gotterdammerung. Nothing could have been finer than the almost unearthly wail which went echoing down the stately aisles, the sound as of a mighty rushing wind, the thunder of the drums, the crash of the cymbals, and the wonderfully plaintive finale reminding one of nothing so much as the soft pattering of rain on an unburied coffin. The immense audience listened in almost painful silence, and as the last strains died away the eyes of even strong, stern men, who have often faced the foe upon South African battlefields, were seen to be suffused with tears. Then the long white line of clergy and choristers issued slowly from the crypt and passed into the choir singing to Croft’s beautiful setting the grand opening sentences of the burial service. “I am the Resurrection and the Life.” By this time also Sir George Martin, the Organist of the Cathedral, wearing his robes of Doctor of Music, had taken his place at the conductor’s desk, and as the clergy and choir moved to their places the listening air was penetrated with the chanting of the words of immortal hope, “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” and those of grateful resignation, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Following this procession into the choir came the civic pageant of the Corporation of the City of London. The common Councillors came first in their mazarine gowns, then came the Aldermen and Sheriffs in scarlet and miniver, and Lastly the Lord Mayor, the mace and Sheriffs in scarlet and Miniver, and lastly the Lord Mayor, the mace with a little crape on it, and the sword all black. The congregation once more sank upon their knees, and the silence was again broken by the voice of the minister rising and falling in beautiful intonations of “The Lord’s Prayer,” followed by the solemn sentences. The clergy present were the Dean (Dr. Gregory), the Rev. Prebendary Reynolds, the Rev. Prebendary Jackson, the Rev. Prebendary Ram, and Minor Canons Gilbertson and Hall. Minor Canon Besley conducted the service, marked by a severe simplicity which in no way lessened its dignity and solemn effect. The Lord’s Prayer was recited, and then a few suffrages. After the antiphon, “I will walk before the Lord,” the Psalms were sung. These were Psalms cxvi., “Dilexi quoniam,” to a setting by F. A. J. Hervey, and Psalm cxxx., “De Profundis,” to Dr. Bexfield’s music. Again came the phrases of the antiphon, and, whereas before only tenors and basses sang, the full choir now joined in rendering the versicle. The Dean read the Lesson, taken from 1 Corinthians, xv., 50-58. The words, “I heard a voice from Heaven,” were sung by the boys only, and the music, as was that for the Magnificat which followed, was by Sir John Goss, in E. The great song of praise again was succeeded by the full verse, “I heard a voice from Heaven, saying unto me, Write, From henceforth blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; even so with the Spirit; for they rest from their labours.” The beautifully rendered anthem was from Mendelssohn’s St. Paul, “Happy and blest are they who have endured; for, though the body dies, the soul shall live for ever.” “The sound of the sorrowing anthem” was wonderfully impressive, and there was also a great hush when the two special prayers commended to the mercy of Almighty God in loving remembrance and Christian hope “Thy servant, Cecil John Rhodes.” The prayers concluded with the fitting aspiration “May the Lord of His mercy grant to us, with all the faithful departed, rest and peace.” And then came one hymn, selected by Earl Grey at the request of the family, which undoubtedly impressed all with its appropriateness:--

Forward! Be our watchword,

Steps and voices join’d;

Seek the things before us,

Not a look behind;

Burns the fiery pillar

At our army’s head;

Who shall dream of shrinking,

By our Captain led?

Forward through the desert,

Through the toil and fight;

Jordan flows before us,

Sion beams with light.

The service closed with the Benediction, but all stood and remained motionless while the military band played in a manner which will remain in the memories of those present as long as life lasts, that wonderful instrumental representation of the awful gloom of death and the surprising glory of the resurrection—Handel’s “Dead March” in Saul. First the drums, with their wonderful roll of sound now rising with the full energy of the storm of life, now sinking to the still small whisper of the voice of death, sent the echoes flying and murmuring all through the sacred fane; then came the crash of martial music, the shrill note of the trumpet, and again the boom as of cannon on some hard-fought field. The impression produced was, indeed, too deep for words; but many of those who could not express their feelings as they recalled the incidents of that life which has closed, and saw as if by intuition the scene in the Matoppos where the Empire-worn frame was being laid to rest in the silence of the granite hills, recalled the lines of Tennyson, written of another great Empire-builder, but singularly applicable to Cecil John Rhodes:--

“His voice is silent in your council-hall

For ever; and whatever tempest lour

For ever silent; even if they broke

In thunder, silent; yet remember all

He spoke among you, and the Man who spoke;

Who never sold the truth to serve the hour,

Nor palter’d with eternal God for power;

Who let the turbid streams of rumour flow

Thro’ either babbling world of high and low;

Whose life was work, whose language rife

With rugged maxims hewn from life;

Whatever record leap to light

He never shall be shamed.”

SERVICES AT OXFORD AND BISHOP’S STORTFORD

On Wednesday evening a memorial service was held at St. Paul’s Church, Oxford, which was conducted by the Vicar, the Rev. W. B. Duggan. Psalms xc. and cxxx. were sung, and the second lesson was from “God of the living.” The vicar gave an address from Psalm xxxix., verse 7.

At Bishop’s Stortford, the birthplace of Mr. Rhodes, a memorial service was held in the parish church on Thursday. The church was the one where Mr. Rhodes attended as a boy, and of which his father was vicar for 27 years, from 1849 to 1876. The service was attended by a large and representative gathering from the town and district, the church being filled. The congregation included a number of clergy from surrounding parishes, the Chairmen and members of the Bishop’s Stortford Urban District Council and Board of Guardians, the Sawbridgeworth Urban District Council, and the Stansted and Hadham Rural District Councils. The head master and the assistant masters of the Bishop’s Stortford Grammar School, where Mr. Rhodes received his early education, and all the boys now at the school, were present, as were also several “old boys” who were schoolfellows of Mr. Rhodes and his brothers. The opening sentences of the Burial Service were sung to Croft’s setting. The anthem was “Happy and blest are they who have endured,” and the hymns sung were “O God, our help in ages past,” and “Jesus lives! No longer now.” At the close of the service the “Dead March” in Saul was played by the organist. The service was conducted by the vicar (the Rev. H. T. Lane) and the curate (the Rev. W. E. Boulter). Throughout the day flags were flying at half-mast from all the public buildings in the town; and a large number of the people who attended the service visited the Rhodes’ vault in the churchyard, and Netteswell House, where Mr. Rhodes was born.

A BUST IN THE GUILDHALL

At Thursday’s meeting of the Court of Common Council at Guildhall, the Lord Mayor presiding, Mr. Deputy Pearse Morrison, amid loud cheers, gave notice of motion for the next meeting in the following terms: “That this Court, recognizing the pre-eminent services of the late Right Hon. Cecil Rhodes, desire to put on record their admiration of him as a Briton, who, throughout his career and as evidenced by his last will and testament, sought to bind together, in the interests of peace, the whole of His Majesty’s Empire, and will cause his bust to be prepared and placed in the Guildhall.”

THE PASSING OF RHODES

An Empire mourns! For it hath lost a son

On whom were lavished rare and priceless gifts

By Nature’s bounteous hand. And we were blest

In that he used those gifts for noble ends,

For lofty purposes, unlike that wanton mind

Which dissipates its intellectual wealth

In vile pursuits or in ignoble aims.

Grief bows our heads as we in mourning stand

Meekly submissive to the will of Him

Who hath decreed our loss, yet knowing well

What we have gained in his accomplished work,

In all those blessings which he hath bequeathed,

And in those glorious, inspired designs

His mind conceived. And not the least the example

Which he hath left us for our guidance here—

Of steadfast purpose to dispel the gloom

With which Injustice would enshadow us

In distant lands. His was the mission here

To rend that power which ruthless would enslave

Ev’n Liberty itself, like some foul monster

Who strikes a terror in the human heart

By its defilement of sweet innocence

And maiden loveliness. He brought the light

Into the awful darkness of those haunts

Where superstition reveled in its deeds

Of chilling horror, and which now we see

Changed into scenes of beauty and delight.

Now let him rest—his body in the grave,

His image in our hearts on which to gaze

In frequent adoration. But with us still

We feel his restless spirit will abide,

To cheer us on, to urge us and inspire

To do our destined task.

W. W. WALL

“GENERAL” BOOTH’S REMINISCENCES

Among the so-called ‘moving spirits’ of the world few outside Christian and philanthropic circles impressed and interested me more than did Cecil Rhodes.” So writes General Booth in the War Cry.

Our objects, you see, differ,” said Mr. Rhodes, when the veteran Chief of the Salvation Army first met him in Cape Town. “You are set on filling the world with the knowledge of the Gospel; my ruling purpose is the extension of the British Empire.” Thrice, at intervals of times, Mr. Rhodes offered the Salvation Army a large tract of country in Rhodesia, to be chosen by the Army’s officers. “I wanted the country for the people,” The interview (those who know the General will take for granted) was not permitted to close without a straight and personal, but withal wary, remark by the chief of the “Blood and Fire” Brigade, touching the spiritual interests of Mr. Rhodes, for in this respect he regarded him “as a man of the world.” “Though he did not,” says General Booth, “assent to my remarks by any passing pretensions to religion, he did not resent them. On the contrary, he was serious and thoughtful, and when I said I should pray for him, he responded, ‘Yes, that was good.’ Prayer, he considered, was useful, acting as a sort of time-table, bringing before the mind the duties of the day, and pulling one up to face the obligations for their discharge. I must say I very dimly apprehended his meaning at the time, but a little incident that occurred some years afterwards showed that my remarks made an indelible impression on his mind.”

MR RHODES’S POLITICAL VIEWS

A REMARKABLE DOCUMENT

In the April number of the Review of Reviews, just published, there is given the longest confession of his political faith which Mr. Rhodes ever wrote with his own hand. Although it dates from 1890, Mr. Rhodes’s views, it is stated, remain unaltered down to the time of his death. Mr. Stead, in introducing it, says:--

The communication takes the shape of a resume of a long conversation which I had had with him just before he left London for the Cape. Despite a passage which suggests that I should sub-edit it and dress up his ideas, I think the public will prefer to have these rough, hurried, and sometimes ungrammatical notes exactly as Mr. Rhodes scrawled them off rather than to have them supplied with literary clothing by any one else.

THE KEY TO HIS IDEAS AND HIS SOLUTION

Mr. Rhodes says:--

Please remember the key of my idea discussed with you is a society, copied from the Jesuits as to organization, the practical solution a differential rate and a copy of the United States Constitution, for that is home rule or federation, and an organization to work this out, working in the House of Commons for decentralization, remembering that an Assembly that is responsible for a fifth of the world has no time to discuss the questions raised by Dr. Tanner or the important matter of Mr. O’Brien’s breeches, and that the labour question is an important matter, but that deeper than the labour question is the question of the market for the products of labour, and that, as the local consumption (production) of England can only support about six million, the balance depends on the trade of the world.

COMMERCIAL WAR FOR FREE TRADE

That the world with America in the forefront is devising tariffs to boycott your manufactures, and that this is the supreme question, for I believe that England with fair play should manufacture for the world, and, being a free-trader, I believe until the world comes to its senses you should declare war—I mean a commercial war with those who are trying to boycott your manufactures—that is my programme. You might finish the war by union with America and universal peace—I mean after 100 years.

FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE GREATEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD

It is a fearful thought to feel that you possess a patent, and to doubt whether your life will last you through the circumlocution of the forms of the Patent Office. I have that inner conviction that if I can live I have thought out something that is worthy of being registered at the Patent Office; the fear is, shall I have the time and the opportunity? And I believe with all the enthusiasm bred in the soul of an inventor it is not self-glorification I desire, but the wish to live to register my patent for the benefit of those who, I think, are the greatest people the world has ever seen, but whose fault is that they do not know their strength, their greatness, and their destiny, and who are wasting their time on their minor local matters, but being asleep do not know that through the invention of steam and electricity, and in view of their enormous increase, they must now be trained to view the world as a whole, and not only consider the social questions of the British Isles.

HIS GREAT AMBITION

They are calling the new country Rhodesia, that is from the Transvaal to the southern end of Tanganyika; the other name is Zambesia. I find I am human and should like to be living after my death; still, perhaps, if that name is coupled with the object of England everywhere, and united, the name may convey the discovery of an idea which ultimately led to the cessation of all wars and one language throughout the world, the patent being the gradual absorption of wealth and human minds of the higher order to the object.

“IF WE HAD NOT LOST AMERICA”

What an awful thought it is that if we had not lost America, or if even now we could arrange with the present members of the United States Assembly and our House of Commons, the peace of the world is secured for all eternity. We could hold your federal Parliament five years at Washington and five at London.

I note with satisfaction that the Committee appointed to inquire into the McKinley Tariff report that in certain articles our trade has fallen off 50 percent, and yet the fools do not see that if they do not look out they will have England shut out and isolated with 90 millions to feed and capable internally of supporting about six millions. If they had had statesmen they would at the present moment be commercially at war with the United States, and they would have boycotted the raw products of the United States until she came to her senses. And I say this because I am a free-trader. But why go on writing? Your people do not know their greatness: they possess a fifth of the world and do not know that it is slipping from them, and they spend their time on discussing Parnell and Dr. Tanner, the character of Sir C. Dilke, the question of compensation for beerhouses, and omne hoc genus.

WHAT AMERICANS CAN TEACH US

For the American has been taught the lesson of home rule and the success of leaving the management of the local pump to the parish beadle. He does not burden his House of Commons with the responsibility of cleansing the parish drains. The present position in the English House is ridiculous. You might as well expect Napoleon to have found time to have personally counted his dirty linen before he sent it to the wash, and recounted it upon its return. It would have been better for Europe if he had carried out his idea of universal monarcy; he might have succeeded if he had hit on the idea of granting self-government to the component parts. Still, I will own tradition, race, and diverse languages acted against his dream; all these do not exist as to the present English-speaking world.