THE casual reader would have noticed little on the front page of his Evening Press on January 23, 1901 to suggest the momentous news it carried inside. As always, the front page carried only advertisements: the most prominent announced the Great Annual Linen Sale at Magean & Co, Coney Street.

On closer inspection, however, the reader would have spotted that the seven columns of adverts were separated by thick black lines. Like the rest of Britain and the Empire, the Evening Press was in mourning.

"La Reine Est Morte!" announced the leader column inside. Queen Victoria, the nation's longest reigning monarch, who had presided over an empire on which the sun never set and through an age of astonishing progress, had died.

After a remarkable 63 years on the throne she passed away at her Isle of Wight estate, Osborne, on the evening of January 22, 1901 - one hundred years ago today. She was 81.

Although the news did not force its way on to the Evening Press front page, the imperious prose inside captured the significance of the moment.

"For an unprecedented period in the annals of British history she wielded with firmness, equity and love the sceptre of an Empire before which all the other empires of the world must pale their uneffectual brilliance...

"To every wife and mother in the world she was a shining example, and under her sway the purity of Court life reached a height which it had never before attained."

A York reporter continued in similar vein. "The leaden sky, which pall-like, has hung over the city for the past few days, has given place this morning to bright sunshine, but the gloom of the people has deepened.

"Last night the news was too fresh for its dread import to be realised in its full poignancy, and a measure of nervous excitement held place. Today that has passed away and general gloom has descended on the city."

The next day the new king, Edward VII, was proclaimed in York by the civic party on the steps of the Mansion House. A crowd, dressed mainly in black, listened attentively.

The Lord Mayor ended the proclamation with the cry God Save The King! "A spark as to gunpowder seemed to kindle the people and loud ringing cheers - good old British cheers, three times three and three again, burst out from every throat", the Press reported.

Queen Victoria's body lay in state at Osborne for ten days while plans for the funeral were finalised. This gap was long enough for a row to break out in York over the city's attitude to the funeral.

In the issue which carried news of Victoria's death, the Evening Press predicted that "the theatres will almost certainly be closed until the end of the week, and probably all the big shops will voluntarily close their doors today and again on the day of the Queen's funeral, February 2".

In fact the Theatre Royal reopened the following day, and it seemed many businesses were preparing to reduce their trading hours rather than close altogether on the day of the funeral.

Reader James E Simpson wrote in disgustedly. "We boast of being loyal, and of one of the Royal family having resided in the city for some time, and only last year our gracious king visited the city, and still we nearly put ourselves to shame as most of the cities and towns are closing the whole day."

A missive from 'A Loyal Grocer' said if traders did not shut up shop it would be seen "as an utter disgrace to the so-called old and loyal city".

'Loyalist', in his letter, expressed astonishment and indignation that concerts were still being held. "Whilst possibly no disrespect is meant by the promoters it is, all the same, to say the least of it, a matter of very bad taste to engage in scenes of merriment at such a time as the present."

Alderman Coning, chair of the York City Police bench, intervened, saying he hoped tradesmen "would look upon the day of the Queen's funeral as one of mourning, and that the citizens would avoid frivolity or holiday excitement".

Ultimately it seemed that, "in accordance with the Royal proclamation", business was suspended for the day. Certainly the Evening Press did not publish. It carried reports of the London funeral procession and the ceremony at St George's Chapel, Windsor, the next Monday.

That York was not unanimously devoted to the memory of Queen Victoria may reflect the fact that the city rarely saw her. Legend has it that she only set foot in the city once and, so affronted was she by a row over the cost of entertaining her, she vowed never to return.

In fact, as Hugh Murray revealed in an essay for the York Historian, this is a myth. Victoria first visited as a princess, spending a week in the city for the York Music Festival in 1835.

Later, as Queen, she embraced the railway age and travelled along the East Coast Main Lain via York to her Scottish holiday home at Balmoral at regular intervals.

In 1849 she was persuaded to leave the royal carriage and receive a loyal address from the Lord Mayor of York, James Meek. Twenty thousand people gathered to watch her arrival. With Prince Albert, she went on to enjoy a luncheon at the railway station Banqueting Room.

This was paid for by the city, leading to objections from some quarters about the cost. But this did not dissuade the Queen from taking refreshment in York; instead she arranged for any future costs to be met by the Royal Household.

However, future glimpses of the Queen were brief. In total, she passed through York 18 times, was seen by the public 15 times and set foot on York soil - albeit only the station - ten times.

After her death, a public subscription fund was launched to pay for a statue of Victoria. But this was never a popular idea, and it took more than four years of struggle to reach the point where the statue could be unveiled.

Even then the controversy dogged the monument. Firstly, it was far too big for its setting, the Guildhall. As Sarah Duffield reveals in her essay for the York Historian, the statue was first shunted off to the Exhibition Buildings in 1912 and then moved to West Bank Park in 1955.

There she stands today, largely forgotten except by the birds who use the Empress of India as a handy perch.