Arrangements had been under discussion for some time in connection with this visit to the Crimea and Sir Andrew Buchanan's opportune arrival had, no doubt, a good deal to do with the matter. On April 12th Sebastopol was sighted, crowned with its ruined bastions and replete to the Royal tourists with memories of the Redan, the Malakoff, and the Mamelon. Neither flags nor men were visible, however, upon the ramparts as the yacht came to its moorings although elsewhere Russian soldiers could be occasionally seen. Presently, General de Kotzebue, Governor of New Russia and Bessarabia, came on board with his suite—a decorated and energetic survivor of the great siege at which he had been Chief of Staff to Prince Gortschakoff. After the four days programme for the Crimea had been settled the Prince and Princess landed and went first to inspect the Memorial Chapel and then to visit the great cemetery. A drive to some of the scenes of battle during the Crimean conflict followed, with an escort of Tartars and with carriage horses which at times seemed to fly over the ground. General de Kotzebue knew every foot of the soil and was, of course, a splendid host on such an occasion. On this first day the field of the desperate Alma fight was gone over carefully and on the succeeding morning the ruined ramparts and redoubts of the once great Fortress of Sebastopol—not as yet restored—were visited and studied. The Cemetery of Cathcart's Hill was visited and here there were few in the party who did not find the names of friends or relatives in this city of silent streets while the Princess found very many around which associations of some kind were twined. In a small farmhouse, close to the windmill which was almost a centre of battle on the day of Inkerman, the Royal party took lunch.

Afterwards the Prince and some of the gentlemen rode over the ridge around which the famous fight occurred and General de Kotzebue explained the technical character of the struggle. The Malakoff was next seen as well as the colossal statue of Lazareff—the father of the Black Sea fleet and of that conception of Russian power which was shattered for a time by the success of the Allies. On the 14th the French Cemetery was visited and thence they went across country to the famous British Headquarters—the home for so long of Lord Raglan, General Simpson and Sir W. Codrington. The house was in perfect order and the Prince was shown with care one of the rooms on the wall of which was a tablet with the simple words: "Lord Raglan died." Balaclava was next visited and the scene of the famous charge carefully studied by the Prince. A drive followed through a country of varied and striking beauty to the Imperial Palace of Livadia where the Czar's Master of Ceremonies, Count Jules Stenbock, was waiting to receive the Royal visitors. A ceremonious entertainment was given here in the highest style of refinement and with the somewhat unexpected accompaniments of chamberlains in green and gold and a mass of servants from St. Petersburg, together with every sort of luxury. Here the Czar Nicholas had stayed in 1855 when he went to reconnoitre the position of the Allies. A visit followed to Alupka, the palace of Prince Woronzow and thence, after an exchange of telegrams with the Czar, they went on board the Ariadne once more.

April the 16th saw the Royal party once more in the Bosphorus with blue lights burning along the shores and bands playing a courteous welcome. On the following day the Prince, attended by Colonel Teesdale and Captain Ellis, paid a last formal visit to the Sultan and this was promptly returned by His Majesty amidst much ceremony. Meanwhile, the Princess had taken a last fond "incognito" look at the Bazaars attended by Mrs. Grey and Mr. Moore of the Embassy. The Ambassador came to the yacht to luncheon and soon afterwards Sir Andrew and Lady Buchanan bade farewell. Then, in the evening, came the second departure from Constantinople, the Ariadne passing through the lately increased Turkish fleet, under Hobart Pasha, amidst a brilliant display of rockets, coloured lanterns and blue lights.

A VISIT TO HISTORIC ATHENS

The Port of Athens was reached on April the 20th and here Sir A. Buchanan once more rejoined the party, followed very soon by various Russian, French and Italian officers and diplomatists. Next came the King of Greece—George I., brother of the Princess of Wales—accompanied by a suite and with sounds of distant cheering and the roar of guns echoing around the vessel. After luncheon Athens was visited and found to be gaily decorated and thence the Royal party passed by train to the King's Palace in the country, a beautiful place surrounded by beautiful scenery. In the distance were to be seen the green fields and olive forests of the Attic plain, the Piraeus and the Bay of Salamis, the groves of Academus, the ancient Acropolis and Ilissus, and the modern City of Athens. On the following day the Acropolis was visited and the glories of that scene of historic greatness revived in the memories of the Royal travellers. A state banquet followed in the evening and on the next day a number of memorable sights and scenes were visited while the evening was the occasion for a coloured and very striking illumination of the mighty ruins of the Acropolis. Athens was left behind on the 23rd of April and the Royal party, including the King and Queen of Greece, proceeded to Corfu, which was reached on the following day and a more kindly greeting accorded to the visitors. The stay here was a very quiet one enlivened, so far as the Prince of Wales was concerned, by a hunting party on the somewhat wild coast of Albania. May 1st saw a formal leave-taking from the King and Queen of the Hellenes and a departure from this pleasant old-world Island.

On the following day Brindisi was reached, and Turin on the 3rd. Accompanied by Sir Augustus Paget, the Minister at Rome, the Royal party crossed the mountains by the Mont Cenis Railway and reached Paris two days afterwards. Here, until May the 11th, they remained in a succession of visits, dinners, reviews and entertainments provided by the Emperor and Empress, and on the following day arrived at Marlborough House after a six months' absence from England. It had been a round of arduous duty mixed with every form of honour and compliment, and including much of genuine pleasure and useful experience, together with the acquisition of practical and valuable knowledge. To the Heir Apparent it was one more step in the training and education necessary for any Prince who is destined to reign over the destinies of an infinitely varied and scattered people.



CHAPTER VII.

Serious Illness of the Prince

Following his return from foreign travel and the fulfilment of a brief round of public functions and duties came the now historic and really eventful illness of the Prince of Wales. It was a critical period in his career. Boyhood, youth and the first flush of manhood were gone; his marriage had taken place and his family been born into a position of present and future importance; his own training in public duties and experience in foreign travel and observation had been completed up to a very high point of efficiency. The one element which seemed to be a little lacking was that of a full appreciation of his own responsibility to the nation and the Empire. The brilliant light which blazed around the Throne could find no fault in the actual performance of any duty; but the critical eye and caustic pen had been prone for some years to allege an overfondness for pleasure and amusement and the pursuits of social life.

Whether true or false in its not very serious origin this impression had been studiously cultivated in certain quarters at home which had an interest in the theoretical flash-lights of republicanism; and extensively propagated abroad by cabled falsehoods and magnified incidents until actual harm had been done to the reputation and character of the young Prince amongst those who did not know him and could never actually expect to know him except through the journalistic food upon which they were fed.

On the other hand, the English people had hardly learned to appreciate the important place filled by the Prince of Wales in the community, in the daily life of the nation, in the hopes of his future subjects, and deep down in the hearts of the masses. Something was apparently needed to develop those two lines of feeling—one personal and the other national—and this came in the illness which struck down the Prince in the closing months of 1871. During the Autumn he had paid a visit to Lord Londesborough at Scarborough, and, although not feeling well, nothing was supposed to be seriously wrong. From there the Prince had gone to stay with Lord Carington at Gayhurst and thence returned to Sandringham where he became decidedly ill. The Times of November 22nd was compelled to state that His Royal Highness was suffering from "a chill resulting in a febrile attack" which had confined him to his room. On the following day a bulletin signed by Doctors Jenner, Clayton, Gull and Lowe stated that the Prince was suffering from typhoid.

ORIGIN OF THE ILLNESS

Amid the anxiety caused by this announcement every one wondered where the disease had been contracted, and ere long it was known that all the guests of Lord Londesborough at the time of the Royal visit had become more or less indisposed; that the hostess herself was seriously ill; that the Earl of Chesterfield, one of the recent guests, was down with typhoid and, finally that Blegg, the Prince's groom, had caught the same disease. Ultimately both peer and peasant died, and the seriousness of their illness as it developed in the public eye added to the gradually growing excitement over the condition of the Heir-Apparent.

The growth of popular feeling in the matter was evidently deep and serious. Bulletins stating that the symptoms of the fever were severe but regular continued for a time amid ever-increasing manifestations of interest and, as the weeks passed slowly by and the Queen had gone to the bedside of her son and something of the devotion of his wife to the sick Prince became known, this feeling grew in volume. Meanwhile the Princess Alice had also come to lend her brother the sympathetic touch and knowledge of nursing for which she was so well known. For a brief moment on December 1st, the patient roused from his delirium sufficiently to remark that it was the birthday of the Princess, and for a week thereafter the news of improvement in his condition was good. Then came a crisis when the fever had spent itself while the patient had also become worn out. It was impossible to say whether he could live another day. The Royal family were summoned to Sandringham on December 9th, and on the following day (Sunday) prayers were offered up in all the churches of the land and in many other countries, by request of the Archbishop of Canterbury. In the morning, the Vicar at Sandringham Church received a note from the Princess of Wales: "My husband being, thank God, somewhat better, I am coming to church, I must leave, I fear, before the service is concluded that I may watch by his bedside. Can you say a few words in prayer in the early part of the service, that I may join with you in prayer for my husband before I return to him?"

THE CRISIS AND THE RECOVERY

On December 11th the Times stated that "the Prince still lives, and we may, therefore, still hope." During the following days crowds in every town surrounded the bulletins and waited in the streets for the latest newspaper reports; and the Government found it necessary to forward medical statements to every telegraph office in the United Kingdom as they were issued. On the 14th of the month a favourable change seemed apparent, and on the 16th the Prince had a quiet and refreshing sleep. On the following day the Royal family went to church, where, by special request, the Royal patient and his dying groom—Blegg—were prayed for together. The latter died within a few hours, but not before the Princess had found time to visit him and comfort his relations. Slowly, but steadily, from that time on the Prince began to make headway towards recovery, though it was not until Christmas Day that the danger was thought to be past and his Royal mother could express her feeling to the nation in a letter which was made public on December 26th: "The Queen is very anxious to express her deep sense of the touching sympathy of the whole nation on the occasion of the alarming illness of her dear son, the Prince of Wales. The universal feeling shown by her people during these painful, terrible days, and the sympathy evinced by them with herself and her beloved daughter, the Princess of Wales, as well as the general joy at the improvement of the Prince of Wales's state, have made a deep and lasting impression on her heart which can never be effaced."

CELEBRATION OF HIS RECOVERY

The recovery of the Prince took the usual course of the disease and was protracted in character; but on January 14th the last bulletin was issued. The Princess of Wales and the Princess Alice had been his nurses throughout this trying time, and they had never seemed to weary in their devoted care. Nine days after the issue of the last bulletin Dr. William Jenner was gazetted a K.C.B. and Dr. William W. Gull a baronet. There were rumors at this time that the patient had been at one stage actually in extremis, but had been saved by one of those sudden inspirations which sometimes constitute so important a part of medical practice, and which consisted in a vigorous and continuous application of old champagne brandy over the body until returning animation had rewarded the doctor's efforts. The 14th of December, the anniversary of the Prince Consort's death and the day upon which the actual turning point in the disease took place, was commemorated by a brass lectern in the Parish Church of Sandringham, which bears the following inscription:

To the Glory of God. A Thank-Offering for His Mercies. 14th December, 1871. Alexandra.

"When I was in trouble I called upon the Lord, and He heard me."

The good news from Sandringham was received throughout the country with expressions of the most unbounded popular satisfaction; and the announcement that an opportunity would be afforded of returning public thanks to the Almighty for his mercy was universally approved. The day for the National Thanksgiving was finally settled for February 27th, and St. Paul's Cathedral as the place; but before that time came Dr. Stanley—who had now become Dean of Westminster—suggested a private visit to the Abbey and a personal expression of his feelings by the Prince. This was done in absolute privacy, with only the Princess and a few members of the Royal family present. A sermon was preached by the Dean in which, as he told an intimate friend, he was able for once to say what he wished to say.

THE NATION UNITED IN A COMMON SYMPATHY

Many of the papers of the country commented upon the event with much the same freedom as the Dean was able to use on this occasion, and it seemed to be felt that the unbounded solicitude and affection so evidently and profoundly shown for the Prince had given a certain right of counsel to the nation. It was generally admitted that the illness had disclosed to the people as a whole something like an adequate knowledge of their own convictions in connection with the monarchy and concerning its maintenance as a permanent and powerful institution of the realm. Whatever might be the abstract ideas held by individuals in times when Mr. Bradlaugh and Sir Charles Dilke were preaching republicanism and Mr. Chamberlain was suspected of harbouring the same opinions, it had become apparent that the subjects of the Queen in Great Britain were practically a unit in their preference for a constitutional monarchy and in their personal devotion to the Crown and the Royal family. In addition to the event having awakened the nation to the strength of its own sentiment in this regard, it was also believed that an important influence would be found to have been exerted upon the Prince of Wales—a steadying sense of responsibility resulting from holding such a place as he did in the hearts of his countrymen.

THE PUBLIC THANKSGIVING OF THE NATION

The Illustrated London News well embodied this thought in the following comment: "Doubtless what has occurred during the last few weeks has also a meaning for the Heir Apparent to the Throne. No man of the slightest sensibility can witness the emotional effusion of a great nation towards himself without being deeply impressed with the responsibilities of his position. The Prince comes back to the British people from the brink of the tomb, and they who most pathetically lamented his danger hail his return to health with devout thanksgivings and acclamations of joy. Can there be a more powerful incentive to that course of future action which will commend him to their approbation and their love? That he will recognize and respond to it, we cannot allow ourselves to doubt." One of the interesting incidents of the illness was the fact that when the announcement was made that His Royal Highness might only survive a few hours his obituary was, of course, prepared and put in type in all the leading newspaper offices in the land to an extent varying from the pages of a metropolitan daily down to the half dozen columns of the Provincial press. Proofs of the obituaries were, it is understood, afterwards collected and sent to the Prince, who had them pasted into an immense scrap-book at Marlborough House.

The Thanksgiving Day celebration commenced on February 27th at 12 o'clock, when Her Majesty the Queen, accompanied by the Prince and Princess of Wales and the Princess Beatrice and Prince Albert Victor of Wales, drove through the gates of Buckingham Palace. There were nine Royal carriages in the procession, containing a number of ladies and gentlemen of the Court, and the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Arthur, Prince Leopold and Prince George of Wales. With the latter was the Marquess of Aylesbury, Master of the Horse; Mr. Brand, Speaker of the House of Commons; Lord Hatherley, the Lord Chancellor. H. R. H. the Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief, headed the procession as it passed slowly through Pall Mall, Charing Cross, the Strand, Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill to St. Paul's Cathedral. The streets were lined with dense masses of people, while every shop-window, doorstep, portico and available roof were black with cheering throngs. Decorations there were of every sort and range—squalid or simple or splendid—but all representing pleasure and loyalty. Along Fleet Street and the Strand they took the form of an actual canopy of banners, standards, streamers and strings of flowers. Venetian masts, flying pennons, countless trophies and miniature shields, with varied mottoes and many kinds of loyal wishes, were seen all along the route. A band of school children numbering 30,000 sang the National Anthem in Green Park, while soldiers lined the roadway from the Palace to the Cathedral. Hearty and enthusiastic cheers greeted the Royal party, and the Queen and Princess were described as looking bright and happy, and the Prince as being pale, but not thin. The Queen wore a black velvet dress trimmed with white ermine, the Princess of Wales was in blue silk covered with black lace, and the Prince was in the uniform of a British General and wearing the orders of the Garter and the Bath.

At Temple Bar the Queen was formally received by the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London, and the city sword handed to Her Majesty and returned in the usual way. At one o'clock the Royal party arrived at the Cathedral and passed up a covered way of crimson cloth to the steps, where they were received by the Bishop of London, the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's and the officers of Her Majesty's Household. The vast interior of the building had been arranged to accommodate 13,000 persons, and was crowded to the doors. Space under the dome was reserved for the Queen, the Royal family, the House of Lords, the House of Commons, the Corps Diplomatique and the distinguished foreigners, the Judges and the dignitaries of the law, the Lords Lieutenant and Sheriffs of Counties, the representatives of universities and other learned bodies. The choir was reserved for the Clergy, and the place assigned to Her Majesty and their Royal Highnesses was slightly raised, made into a kind of pew and covered with crimson cloth.

The Royal procession as it moved up the aisle included, besides the members of the Royal family, such well known officials and members of the Court as Major-General Lord Alfred Paget, Lieutenant-General Sir John Cowell, Colonel H. F. Ponsonby, Major-General Sir T. M. Biddulph, General Sir William Knollys, Rear-Admiral Lord Frederick Kerr, the (late) Lord Methuen, General Lord Strathnairn, the Marquess of Aylesbury, the Viscount Sydney, the Countess of Gainsborough, the Lady Churchill, Lady Caroline Barrington, the Hon. Mrs. Grey, the Countess of Morton and Lord Harris. Most of the great names and great personages of England were present at this function. There were 200 Peers and Peeresses; the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and fourteen Bishops; nearly every member of the House of Commons. Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone were there as were Mr. Disraeli and Viscountess Beaconsfield. Lord Northbrook, Mr. W. E. Forster, Mr. Cardwell, Mr. Chichester Fortescue, Mr. Goschen, and Lord Granville were visible. Throngs of ladies, brilliant in blue and mauve and crimson satin and gems were present, and, as the sun suddenly shone through what had been sullen clouds, the spectacle within those parts of the Cathedral touched by the stream of light was beautiful indeed. It shone upon the bright blue of many dresses—the Royal colour of the day—mixed up in a confusion of effective shadings with the dark blue and burnished gold of the uniforms, the scarlet and white plumes of the officers, the gorgeous robes of the Peers, the white lawn of the Bishops.

After walking up the aisle on the arm of the Prince of Wales, with the Princess on the other side, Her Majesty took her place in the special pew with the chief members of the Royal family on either side. After a brief special service of thanksgiving the Archbishop of Canterbury preached the sermon for the occasion in words of tact and eloquence from which one quotation may be made: "Just as in one of our own homes when death threatens, the whole history of the loved object we fear to lose comes back in the hours of waiting, so England was stirred by a hundred touching memories when danger threatened the Royal house. And God doubtless thus touched our hearts to deepen our loyalty and make us better prize the thousand good things secured in a well-ordered State by love to the head of the State." At the conclusion of the sermon a Thanksgiving Hymn was sung and the benediction given. The following was the concluding verse:

"Bless, Father, him thou gavest Back to the loyal land, O Saviour, him Thou savest, Still cover with Thine Hand:

O Spirit, the Defender, Be his to guard and guide, Now in life's midday splendor On to the eventide."

The Royal party then proceeded in due state to their carriages and the procession returned through the streets of the city to Buckingham Palace over the Holborn Viaduct, along Holborn and Oxford street to the Marble Arch, via Hyde Park to Piccadilly, and thence down Constitution Hill. Enthusiastic cheering was heard all along the route and decorations were seen everywhere in the greatest abundance. In the evening London was brilliant with light. The dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, the Mansion House, and the two large triumphal arches were particularly bright and beautiful in their varied colours and illuminations. The Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress entertained the Lord Mayor of Dublin and the Provincial Mayors to a banquet at the Mansion House and, all over the United Kingdom, celebrations of a popular or religious character, holiday gatherings, crowded meetings and illuminations, marked the day and the pleasure of the people. Addresses poured in by hundreds and rejoicings were not confined to the Island portion of the Empire. An incident of this celebration was the collection of a Thanksgiving Fund for the completion of St. Paul's Cathedral. To it the Queen gave L1000 and the Prince of Wales L500. Another feature of the event was the splendid behaviour of the millions of people who lined the seven-mile route of the procession and paid loyal tribute to their Queen and to the son who was heir to all the traditions of his race and the greatness of the Royal name. On February 29th Her Majesty wrote to Mr. Gladstone a message intended for the nation:

"The Queen is anxious, as on a previous occasion, to express publicly her own personal very deep sense of the reception she and her dear children met with on Tuesday, February the 27th, from millions of her subjects on her way to and from St. Paul's. Words are too weak for the Queen to say how very deeply touched and gratified she has been by the immense enthusiasm and affection exhibited towards her dear son and herself, from the highest down to the lowest, on the long progress through the Capital, and she would earnestly wish to convey her warmest and most heartfelt thanks to the whole nation for this great demonstration of loyalty. The Queen, as well as her son and dear daughter-in-law, felt that the whole nation joined with them in thanking God for sparing the beloved Prince of Wales's life."

Perhaps the most beautiful and effective presentations of popular feeling and hopes in connection with this now historic sickness of the Heir Apparent were the sermons preached by Dean Stanley. No one has ever been closer in friendship and in personal knowledge to the Prince of Wales than had this eloquent and saintly ecclesiastic. No one has been more admired and respected in the Church of England in modern days than he; nor has any of its clergy possessed a wider view or more generous heart. Speaking in Westminster Abbey on December 10th, 1871, when the nation was awaiting in deep anxiety the issue of a struggle which seemed to be almost fatally and surely decided, he embodied the popular feeling in beautiful and appropriate words: "On a day like this when there is one topic in every household, one question on every lip, it is impossible to stand in this place and not endeavour to give some expression to that of which every heart is full. We all press, as it were, round one darkened chamber, we all feel that with the mourning family, mother, wife, brothers, sisters, who are there assembled, we are indeed one. The thrill of their fears or hopes passes through and through the differences of rank and station; we feel that, while they represent the whole people they also represent and are that which each family and each member of each family, is separately. In the fierce battle between life and death, for the issues of which we are all looking with such eager expectation, we see the likeness of what will befall every individual soul amongst us; and the reflection which this struggle, with all its manifold uncertainties suggests, concerns us all alike."

The sermon which followed was a skillful presentation of thoughts suggested by the text, "To live is Christ and to die is gain." It concluded with an earnest hope that the Royal life which might so greatly influence the national destinies might still be preserved—"a life which, if duly appreciated and fitly used, contains within it special opportunities for good such as no other existence in this great community possesses; a life which may, if worthily employed, stimulate all that is noble and beneficent and discourage all that is low and base and frivolous." In these and other words he concluded a sermon which could not but have had its influence in after days upon the life and character of the Prince who so greatly respected and regarded the preacher. A week later the cloud had lifted from Sandringham and the life which had been so much prayed for in so many lands was slowly passing into the region of safety and strength. It gave the opportunity to Dean Stanley to speak again at the historic Abbey in a strain of instruction and to draw a national moral from the events of the past few months. He referred to the spontaneous outburst of every class and every party which had, to his mind, proved the permanent supremacy of the British Crown in a Christian State. "There are nations and there have been times in which the devotion to the reigning family has been a thing separate and apart from the love of country. There have been times and places when the love of country has existed with no loyal feeling to the reigning family. Let us thank God that in England it is not so. Loyalty with us is the personal, romantic side of patriotism. Patriotism with us is the Christian, philosophic side of loyalty. Long may the two flourish together, each supporting and sustaining the other."

On the Sunday following the Thanksgiving Service at St. Paul's—March 3rd—the Dean preached for the last time upon this subject in Westminster Abbey. After stirring references to the wonderful scene of national enthusiasm lately witnessed and to the gathering in St. Paul's Cathedral of representatives of every creed and religious division in Great Britain (except those of one exclusive body) to offer thanksgivings in "the venerable forms of the National Church" he expressed his belief that the demonstration as a whole was "the response in every English heart to the sense of union—too subtle for analysis yet true and simple as the primitive instincts of our race—which binds the people of England to their Monarchy and the Monarchy to the people." He dealt with the functions and character of that institution in most striking words. "No other existing throne in Europe reaches back to the same antiquity, none other combines with such an undivided charm the associations of the past with the interests of the present. It is the one name and place which, being beyond the reach of personal ambition, beyond the need of private gain, has the inestimable chance of guiding, moulding, elevating the tastes, the customs, the morals of the whole community. It is the one name and place which, being raised high above all party struggles, all local jealousies, over all classes, ecclesiastical as well as civil, is the supreme controlling spring which binds together in their widest meaning all the forces of the State and all the forces of the Church. It is the one institution which by very nature of its existence unites the abstract idea of country and of duty with the personal endearments of family life, of domestic love, of individual character."

It was the greatness of this national possession—one which had steadied national progress and promoted peace in the midst of tumults and freedom in the midst of disorder—which had, Dean Stanley thought, helped to make the people pray that its destined heir should be worthy of his noble inheritance. And then the speaker pointedly and clearly pictured the increased and increasing responsibilities of the Prince of Wales upon whom, henceforth, "as by a new consecration and confirmation, devolves the glorious task of devoting to his country's service that life which is in a special sense no longer his but ours, for which his country's prayers, his country's thanksgivings, have been so earnestly offered." The sermon concluded with a description of these great responsibilities; an appeal to the Prince to begin life afresh and to take the lead in all that was true and holy, just and good; a warning that "of him to whom much has been given, much shall be required;" a picture of a Christian England fighting evil in every form and in every place and growing greater in all the elements of higher national and individual life.



CHAPTER VIII.

The Prince of Wales in India

To make a Royal tour of the vast British possessions in Hindostan was an inspiring idea. To constitute the Crown a tangible evidence of Imperial power and a living object and centre of Eastern loyalty and respect was a policy worthy of Mr. Disraeli and of the statecraft in which he had once declared imagination to be an essential ingredient. To precede this action by the purchase of the Suez Canal shares in order to safe-guard the pathway to the Indian Empire and to succeed it with such an impressive appeal to Oriental individualism and personal loyalty as the proclamation of Queen Victoria as Empress of India were strokes of statesmanship such as no other Englishman of that time was capable of initiating.

INCEPTION OF THE PROJECT

In Bombay, when the project was finally in full fruition, the Prince of Wales told a distinguished audience that "it had long been the dream of his life to visit India," and there seems no room to doubt that it was a part of the original plan mapped out by the keen perceptions of the Prince Consort for the education of his eldest son. It was unquestionably suggested to the former by Lord Canning, when Governor-General of India in the wild days of the Mutiny, but the idea necessarily slumbered until the young Prince was old enough to undertake the heavy duties involved.

By that time his father had passed away; the old-time rule of the East India Company was gone; a new and greater India had expanded in territory and population; while the loyalty of its native Princes had become a constant marvel to other peoples. Yet there were causes of discontent and grounds for trouble. The myriad masses of Hindostan did not yet fully understand who was ruling over them, nor had they ever fully comprehended how the rule of the Company passed away. The word "Queen" had to them an Eastern significance which did not exactly compel respect, and that personal side of Government which means so much to the Oriental mind had never been brought home to them. The assassination of Lord Mayo proved the possibilities of greater trouble, and there was always the danger of Russian aggression and the existence of border warfare. In the winter of 1874, therefore, the question of a Royal tour was seriously considered, and some correspondence passed between the authorities concerned. To send the Heir to the Throne on such a visit was a unique project, and there were various difficulties to overcome. India was accustomed to visitors of the type of Alexander the Great, of Timour, Baber, Mahmoud of Ghuznee and Nadir Shah; but a peaceful progress of the foreign Heir to its Throne was another matter. Brief and hasty visits to some of its Princes had been made in recent times by Prince Adalbert of Prussia, the King of the Belgians and the Duke of Edinburgh, but there had never been a state tour of the country with all its accompaniments of splendour and costliness, the danger from fanatics and the trying changes of climatic conditions.

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE TOUR

It was not an easy matter to arrange, and the probabilities are, that if the Prince of Wales had not himself insisted that it was his duty to go, the project might ultimately have been abandoned. He had by this time come to fill so important a place in the public eye and in the external functions of Sovereignty that his absence for six months, or more was a serious consideration. The preliminary obstacles, however, were overcome, and on the 16th of March, 1875, the Marquess of Salisbury, Secretary of State for India, announced that the visit would take place, and a little later the Times stated that Sir Bartle Frere would accompany His Royal Highness. The former was widely known in India through administrative duties admirably performed in Bombay and the North-West Provinces. The Duke of Sutherland, a much respected nobleman, was selected as one of the suite, together with Lord Suffield, head of the Prince's Household; Lieutenant-Colonel Arthur Ellis, Equerry to the Prince, and who had served in India; Major-General (Sir) D. M. Probyn, V.C., who arranged the details regarding horses, transport and sporting; Mr. Knollys, who has since been so well known as Sir Francis Knollys, the Prince's Private Secretary; Lord Alfred Paget, an old man and most attached friend to the Prince; the Rev. Canon Duckworth, who went as Chaplain; and Dr. Fayrer, who attended in the capacity of guardian to the Prince's health, and afterwards became a well known physician and Sir Joseph Fayrer, Bart., F.R.S., etc.

The Earl of Aylesford, Lord Carington and Colonel Owen Williams were invited, as personal friends of the Prince of Wales, to join the party, while Lieutenant the Lord Charles Beresford, M.P., who had accompanied the Duke of Edinburgh on his preceding hasty visit, also lent his experience and unflagging gayety to the suite, and was aided by Lieutenant Augustus Fitz-George of the Rifle Brigade. Mr. Sydney Hall was the official artist of the tour; Mr. Albert Grey (afterwards Earl Grey) was Private Secretary to Sir Bartle Frere; and the present Sir William Howard Russell was a special correspondent with the nominal duties of Honorary Private Secretary to the Prince. When Parliament met various questions were asked as to whether the expenses of the tour were to be charged to the British or Indian Governments; whether the Prince would represent the Queen; whether he would supersede the Governor-General for the time being, etc. On July 8th Mr. Disraeli made a full statement for the first time in connection with the subject. He alluded to the previous travels of the Prince of Wales and expressed the opinion that they were the best form of education for a Royal personage. But the rules and regulations and etiquette which sufficed for the Prince in Canada and other countries would not do in India. One important difference was the probably costly character of the ceremonial presents which would have to be exchanged between the visitor and his hosts amongst the native Princes. Money would have to be granted for this, and the sum of L30,000 had been casually estimated for the purpose. The estimate of the Admiralty for the expenses of the voyage and corresponding movements of the fleet was L52,000. He would ask for a vote of L60,000. The Prince would go as the Heir Apparent to the Crown and be the formal guest of the Viceroy from the time of setting foot upon Indian soil. The expenses of the tour were to be charged to the Indian Budget. This statement created some criticism, while the very small amount proposed for expenditure caused still more comment. As a matter of fact, the Prince did not exceed, in the end, the comparatively small amount voted.

THE JOURNEY COMMENCED

On Sunday, October 10th, a farewell sermon was preached at Westminster Abbey by Dean Stanley, who expressed the hope that the visit might leave behind it "on one side the remembrance of graceful acts, kind words, English nobleness, Christian principles, and on the other awaken in all concerned the sense of graver duties, wider sympathies, loftier purposes." On the following day the Prince left London amid marked popular demonstrations of respect and regard, and with every evidence of a deep public interest shown by the press of the country. At Dover thousands of people cheered the Prince farewell. He took the boat for Calais, accompanied by the Princess, who, however, did not land, but returned home next morning. At Paris he was accidentally met by President MacMahon, who was leaving on the train for another place, and welcomed to France; officially he was received by Lord Lyons, the British Ambassador. On the following day His Royal Highness lunched with Marshal MacMahon at the Elysee. This visit and the ensuing journey through Turin, Bologna and Ancona to Brindisi was carried out in a private and non-official capacity. Nevertheless, at every station there were officials, guards of honour and crowds of people to see the special go through and to do honour to the traveller. The bulk of the Royal suite followed the Prince a little later, and on October 16th the whole party met at Brindisi and the voyage proper commenced.

WELCOMED BY THE KING OF THE GREEKS

Later in the same day H. M. S. Serapis, under the command of Captain the Hon. H. Carr-Glyn, accompanied by the Royal yacht Osborne, left Brindisi, and two days later the Prince was being welcomed in Athens by the King of the Hellenes—Otto I—and by a picturesque Court clad in the attractive costumes of the nation. Visits to the Acropolis and to the country house of the King were followed by a State banquet at the Palace, which gathered together all that was eminent in modern Grecian life, glittering with laces, orders and decorations, and including some young men who have since become famous—Tricoupi, Delyannis, Commoundourus and Zaimes. Illuminations of the city ensued, and in the morning, after a Royal reception, the Prince left Athens through crowds of people, who seemed a little more demonstrative than had been the case at first. On October 20th the Piraeus was left behind after a farewell visit from the King and at dawn the next day Crete was in sight. The ship steered steadily ahead and three days later was welcomed at Port Said by Egyptian frigates on sea and Egyptian infantry on shore.

There was no cheering from the people but much curiosity. A formal welcome was offered for the Khedive by Princes Tewfik, Hussein and Hassan, who were accompanied on their visit to the Serapis by the well-known statesman Nubar Pasha, and other officers of the Court. The Prince then transferred himself to a smaller vessel—the Osborne—and with a Royal Standard floating over the ship for the first time since the Empress Eugenie had opened the Suez Canal, he traversed that famous waterway. At Ismaila, the Prince and his suite landed and took a special train to Cairo, where His Royal Highness was welcomed by the Khedive in person, with the towering form of the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia standing behind, and a brilliantly uniformed Court around him. To the Prince of Wales the Gezireh Palace was given as his temporary residence. The succeeding day was occupied with ceremonials of various kinds, a banquet being given by the Khedive at the Abdeen Palace in the evening, when the Prince passed to and fro in a lane of light made by myriad many-coloured lamps.

On October 25th, the Prince of Wales invested Prince Tewfik—afterwards Khedive of Egypt—with the Order of the Star of India amidst all possible state. In a letter he told His Highness that the honour was conferred to mark British appreciation of the Khedive's friendship to England, and his good work in promoting the safety of British communication with India. The next day saw the Royal departure from Cairo after a formal visit from the Khedive, the Princes his sons, and his Ministers, who were again at the station to see him off a little later. Suez was reached in the evening and, amid elaborate preparations from the Pasha of that place, crowds of people and illuminated men-of-war in the roadstead, the Prince and his party boarded the Serapis and, accompanied by the Osborne, proceeded on the voyage to Aden. Perim, which has been described as "a gigantic blistered clinker," was reached and passed on October 31st, and from the ship the Prince got his first view of Her Majesty's Indian troops. It is to be hoped that the cheering Bombay Infantry drawn up on that vitrified surface, got a fair view of the Prince in return. On the following day the volcanic-like Island of Aden was reached, and its fortifications gazed upon with interest. As the flag flew from the mast-head of the Serapis to announce its arrival the ships and crags rang with the roar of cannon. The Prince landed, clad in uniform of a somewhat mixed character, with Field Marshal's insignia, and accompanied by his suite. Upon, or around, the platform and triumphal arch erected at the landing-place, was every variety of picturesque oriental costume with a background of mountain and blistered rock and white, painted houses. Chiefs from the mainland in gorgeous array, the King's Own Borderer's Regiment, all the ladies of the island in European or Asiatic costume, fierce-looking Arabs, meek-looking Hindoos, sleek Parsees, people from all the regions between the Persian Gulf, Zanzibar and Arabia, were there to welcome him.

THE PRINCE RECEIVES AN ADDRESS

A formal address was presented to His Royal Highness by the Resident—a Parsee—and then followed a drive through decorated streets with numerous arches and curious mottoes to the Residency. A Levee was held here and later in the day the ship was again boarded and steamed away from the Indian Gibraltar as it lay bathed in lines of light along all its town and batteries.

Bombay was reached on November 8th, after a voyage which was upon the whole pleasant—certainly as far as surroundings and comforts could make it. For a few hours official visitors streamed on board, and then in the afternoon Lord Northbrook, Viceroy of India, appeared on the scene and was received with the honours due to his station. There had been some idea abroad that difficulties might arise as to the respective positions of the Heir Apparent and the Viceroy in State ceremonial, but from the day of this first formal meeting there does not seem to have been the slightest trouble upon the point. Each knew perfectly what pertained to the position and rank of the other. Then came the Governor of Bombay, Sir Philip Wodehouse, and with him the Commander-in-Chief of the Presidency, Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Staveley, and the members of the Council. Meanwhile the harbour was filled with ships and boats of all kinds, flags were streaming everywhere, in the distance was a vast triumphal arch spanning the waterway between two piers, and, as the Royal and Vice-regal party stepped into the barge and started for the landing-place, the cannon roared, bands played, guards saluted and crews cheered.

As the Prince of Wales landed the scene was one of the most splendid conceivable. Long lines of seats draped in scarlet cloth stood out under the sides of the gigantic archway and upon them stood a multitude of native notabilities—Chiefs, Sirdars and gentlemen, Parsees, Hindoos, Mahrattas and Mohammedans—a crowd glittering in gems and bright in all the brilliant hues of Oriental garb. Amongst them also were the officers of the Government and Municipality, leading citizens and dignitaries, and all the ladies who could be found within a radius of a hundred miles. Flowers and shrubs and banners and flags were everywhere. An address expressive of loyalty and pride in the British Throne was presented from the Municipality and duly answered, and then the Prince, with Lord Northbrook at his side, walked along a carpeted avenue, speaking to various Princes and Chiefs as they were presented—the first being Sir Salar Jung, the Prime Minister and representative and famous statesman of Hyderabad. At the end of the avenue, where carriages were taken for the procession of seven miles through the teeming streets of the city, a band of Parsee girls in white were waiting to strew garlands and flowers in the Prince's carriage and on the roadway.

There was no music in this wonderful night procession and its surroundings are difficult to describe. Mr. W. H. Russell, the diarist of the Royal tour, speaks of the spectacle as being absolutely baffling to the eye. "There was something almost supernatural in these long vistas winding down banks of variegated light, crowded with gigantic creatures waving their arms aloft and indulging in extravagant gesture, which the eye—baffled by rivers of fire, blinded with the glare of lamps and blazing magnesium wire and pots of burning matter—sought in vain to penetrate." The piled-up masses of human beings along these miles of streets; the Parsee women in brilliant costumes, which vied with the colours of the surrounding fires and lights; crowds of Mohammedans; Hindoo temples with roofs covered by Brahmins and their votaries; a Jew bazaar, an American store, a European warehouse, or a Japan temple in close proximity to each other and all bearing a burden of people in varied dress; flashed a picturesque and never-ending variety of sight and colour and character to the gaze of the quiet, dignified man who drove through it all as the central figure of a spectacle whose like may never be seen again. A banquet followed in the great hall of Government House, and a state reception closed the varied proceedings of this first busy day in historic Hindostan.

Meanwhile, camp-fires blazed for miles around the city, the fiery furnace of the streets settled into as much of silence as an Oriental centre under such conditions could attain and all over India, in every mart and village and town where a gun could be found, volleys had announced the arrival of the heir to its Imperial throne. In the morning a Royal reception was held at Government House and, amid splendid surroundings and every form of dignity and severe etiquette necessary to impress the visiting Princes and Chiefs and Rajahs of the great Presidency of Bombay, His Royal Highness stood or sat for hours in the intense heat, clad in a stiff uniform, laden with lace and buttoned up to the throat. With him were the Duke of Sutherland, Major-General Lord Alfred Paget, Sir Bartle Frere, Lord Suffield, Lord Charles Beresford and the rest of his suite. The Oriental dignitaries, each in great state, came with attendants and ceremonies and gifts in accordance with his rank. Each Prince was treated along graded lines of cordiality, courtesy or civility, as was supposed to become his position. The little Rajah of Kolapore; the Maharajah of Mysore; the Maharana of Oodeypore; the Rao of Cutch—who left a sick bed and returned home to die; the little Gaekwar of Baroda, who was described as looking like a crystallized rainbow and was accompanied by the famous statesman, Sir Madhava Rao; Sir Salar Jung of Hyderabad; and the Maharajah of Edur; were received one after the other and then a succession of less important rulers with tremendous names, fierce-looking guards and more or less gorgeous costumes.

At the end of what was a Durbar in all but name the Prince was only beginning his functions for the day. The Viceroy had to be received and many matters discussed; a visit was paid to the Serapis where the men were celebrating the Prince's birthday, as were many millions throughout India; telegrams were exchanged with the Princess at Sandringham; every step was marked by pomp and splendour; a state banquet was held in the evening and another, but less formal, reception afterwards. Meantime, the city, the shipping and the harbour were a blaze of light and general illumination—the great bay looking as if it were filled with rows of fiery pyramids and the streets as if all India were trying to pass through them. On November the 10th the Viceroy bade farewell to the Prince, who did not see him again until near the end of his tour. He went on a journey himself to parts of India which His Royal Highness was unable to visit. Another formal reception of lesser Rajahs and Nawabs took place in the morning. In the afternoon the Prince drove into Bombay, accompanied by Sir Philip Wodehouse and held a Levee in the Government Buildings. Then followed a visit to the harbour where, in an open space, seven thousand children of all castes, classes, colours and creeds, dressed in brilliant hues and laden with flowers, sang patriotic songs. They almost smothered the Royal guest in flowers as he ascended to his place. State visits were then made to a number of the native Princes who had been already received and, in the evening, a grand European ball, given by the Byculla Club, was attended. Other Chiefs were visited next day by the Prince—those who had not residences or were not of sufficient importance being assigned reception rooms at the Secretariat, or Government Buildings.

THE PRINCE'S POPULARITY AT BOMBAY

After this wearisome and almost unbearably hot business was over the Prince attended a dinner given by the people of Bombay to the sailors of the fleet and the vigorous cheering of these two thousand seamen as His Royal Highness entered the hall must have been a relief after the heavy and sustained etiquette of the past few days. Following this was the laying of the foundation stone of the Elphinstone Docks with Masonic ritual and ceremonies. Then came a visit to the Hyderabad Prime Minister and deputation and to others and a busy day closed with the usual state dinner and reception. On the evening of November 12th the famous Caves of Elephanta were visited and a banquet received by the Prince of Wales amongst these wonderful and massive efforts of distant ages to embody what seemed to them the divine attributes. Returning to the city the Royal barge passed between two rows of ships, discharging volleys, while the hulls and riggings were brightly illuminated, coloured fires were everywhere and earth and sky seemed merged in a tremendous display of fireworks and rockets. A visit to Poonah followed and this included an inspection of the Temple of Parbuttee, from one of the windows of which the last of the Peishwas had seen his forces routed on the plains of Kirkee below; a review of native troops; a reception in the city characterized by the usual fireworks, triumphal arches, crowded streets and revel of colour.

On the 16th, His Royal Highness was back at Bombay considering plans which had been disarranged by the prevalence of cholera in Southern India. Finally, it was decided to visit Baroda, the capital of a State where the Gaekwar had recently been deposed for his crimes. It was felt that danger might exist, as even the most evil of Eastern rulers has fanatical followers, but the former Resident, Sir R. Meade, expressed the belief that it could be done safely and would be of great service and the authorities and Prince, after much discussion, approved the change of programme. This last day in Bombay saw the presentation of colours to a battalion of Native Infantry amidst an immense concourse of people, and a ball given by the citizens at which natives, Chiefs and gentlemen could see Europeans dancing and amusing themselves. The presents received during this part of the tour numbered over four hundred and included specimens of every variety of Indian workmanship—tissues, brocade, cloths, arms, jewellery, gold, silver and metal. The Rajah of Kolapore, in addition to the gift of an ancient jewelled sword and dagger, had assigned L20,000, or $100,000, to the founding of a Hospital to be called after the Royal visitor.

The journey to Baroda was commenced on November 18th and finished early on the following morning. At the station the Prince of Wales was received by the Gaekwar, Sir Madhava Rao, the British agent and other officers, and outside were triumphal arches and a rolling sea of dark, silent faces, topped by turbans of every colour in the rainbow. Outside also was an enormous elephant, with a golden howdah on his back, and into this the Prince and the Gaekwar presently entered. Everything was cloth of gold and velvet. The procession started after a time with a long line of gorgeously-caparisoned elephants following, a way was cleared for them by an advance guard of the 3rd Hussars, while in the rear were some of the Gaekwar's artillery and cavalry and a great crowd of Sirdars and lesser chiefs. The three miles to the Residency was lined by cavalry, and the spectacle must have been a superb one to see for the first time. The whole of the route was bordered by a light trellis work of bamboos, hung with lamps and festooned with flowers, while at certain points were special arches and clusters of flags. On his arrival the Prince held a sort of Durbar, paid a return visit to the Gaekwar and went to the Agga, or arena for wild-beast combats, where he saw Eastern wrestlers, an elephant fight, a buffalo fight, a struggle of fighting rams, and a show of wild or curious animals. The night was brilliant with illuminations, and the Prince accepted an invitation to dine with the 9th Native Infantry—an honour of which they were very proud.

The next day was devoted to sport, and in the evening dinner was taken with another Native regiment. On the evening of the 21st the Prince visited the Gaekwar at the ancient Palace of the Mohtee Bagh, and on the way crossed a bridge spanned by triumphal arches, with men holding blazing torches placed along the parapets. Lamps and lights were everywhere. A great banquet was held, in the course of which Sir Madhava Rao expressed the thanks of the Gaekwar, and said that "it was now their felicity to see that Prince who was heir to a sceptre whose beneficent power and influence were felt in every quarter of the globe; which dispelled darkness, diffused light, paralyzed the tyrant's hand, shivered the manacles of the slave, extended the bounds of freedom, accelerated the happiness and elevated the dignity of the human race. He had come to inspect an Empire founded by the heroism and sustained by the statesmanship of England; to witness the spectacle of indigenous principalities relying more securely on British justice than could mighty nations on their embattled hosts."

THE PRINCE TAKES PART IN A HUNTING EXPEDITION

After dinner, various Eastern performances in dancing and juggling were given, and then they departed for the shooting grounds farther south, where "pig-sticking" and other sports were enjoyed. His Royal Highness succeeded in killing one wild boar. On November the 24th the Royal visitor arrived again at Bombay and went on board the Serapis. On the following day he landed to take leave of the Governor, and suddenly, to the dismay of the local authorities who had lined his announced route with troops, intimated his intention to attend the wedding festivities of the son of Sir Munguldass Nuthoobhoy, a great native merchant. The visit proved well worth the trouble, and the undisguised delight of the host and those present was a privilege to see. A farewell incident was the knighting of the energetic Chief of Police, Sir F. H. Soutar. At 6 P.M. the Serapis was on its way to Goa.

The visit to this ancient Portuguese dependency was not prolonged and the incidents of importance were few. But much that was curious was seen and many historical memories revived. On November 28th the little foreign strip of territory was left behind and Beypore was sighted on the following day. It was found, however, that cholera existed along all the routes which the Prince proposed to take in this part of the country and the medical men would not take the responsibility of advising a continuance of the tour in this direction. The Prince bore his disappointment philosophically, though he had expected much pleasure from the splendid shooting places of the Mysore country. What can be said, however, of the disappointed people and authorities? The Mysore Government had spent thousands of pounds in preparation; Ootacamund, Bangalore, Travancore and other places had laid out much money and the population for hundreds of miles was stirred with expectancy. A visit was paid to the shore and a brief glance taken at the old-time land of Tippoo Sahib, and then the voyage was resumed to Ceylon.

On December 1st the lights of Colombo were sighted, and soon the familiar spectacle of British men-of-war dressed to welcome royalty was seen. The sight at the landing-place was a pretty one, and the long avenue of gaily-decorated and flower-garlanded boats through which the Royal barge first passed was equally so. The Prince was received in a beautiful pavilion under a striking archway and everywhere in sight were arches and flags and palm-leaves, and massed displays of fruits and flowers, and tier on tier of spectators. All the dignitaries of Ceylon were there and the usual addresses and replies were given. Thence the Prince passed to the Government Buildings and took a drive round the town, meeting everywhere an enthusiastic and sincerely generous reception and a wealth of decoration in fruits and flowers and ferns. His Royal Highness gave a state banquet on the Serapis in the evening, while Colombo was illuminated and the ships were a blaze of light. Never were the Cinghelese more happy than on that day and night, and spectators found it hard to describe the revel of light, fantastic, Eastern pleasure. On the following day the railway train was taken for Kandy amid genuine British cheers from throngs of men clad in petticoats and wearing combs in front of their chignons.

At this splendidly situated town—the ancient stronghold of Chiefs and the seat of more than one rebellion against earlier British rule—the Prince was received by a great number of queerly-clad but distinguished personages and Buddhist priests. The Governor, Mr. W. H. Gregory, who accompanied the Royal traveller, was unusually popular and this, perhaps, helped in the success of the reception. Addresses were received and in the evening the Governor held a state dinner attended by all the notabilities of Ceylon and accompanied outside by the beating of native drums, the blowing of myriad horns, the clang of mighty gongs and sounds of distant cheering. Afterwards the Prince witnessed a grotesque and extraordinary procession of elephants, dancers and priests of the Temple. On the following day he visited the Royal Botanical Gardens and in the evening held an investiture of the Order of St. Michael and St. George at which the Governor was knighted and some lesser honours given. The Chiefs and their stately and dignified wives were then formally presented. From the audience hall he afterwards passed to the Temple and was shown the famous "Sacred Tooth of Gotama Buddha"—an object of veneration to many millions of the human race and of visible fear to the priests who stood around the Prince or took it from its precious and numerous cases. On December the 4th the Prince went on a visit to the interior of this wonderfully beautiful country and enjoyed the excitement of an elephant hunt and of killing some of those colossal creatures of the jungle. Colombo was reached again, three days later, and another state banquet attended in the evening. On the following day the new Breakwater was inaugurated by the Prince and in the evening a farewell banquet received and the city left amid scenes of brilliant illumination and fantastic Eastern beauty.

The Prince of Wales and his suite landed in Tuticorin on the coast of India, again, on December 9th, and proceeded inland by train without any particular or formal reception. The Tamils were found to be a handsome, mild-natured, respectful people and the land cultivated and apparently prosperous. At Mainachy, a deputation of six thousand native Christians and one thousand boys and girls, headed by the Rev. Dr. Caldwell and the Rev. Dr. Sargent, presented an address and a handsomely-bound Bible and Prayer-book in the Tamil language, to His Royal Highness. A native "lyric" was then sung by the children including words of which the following is a translation: "Crossing seas and crossing mountains, thou hast visited this southern-most region and granted to those who live under the shadow of thy Royal umbrella a sight of thy benign countenance." Madura was reached a few hours later and found to be profusely decorated, one of the arches being made of native work in perforated paper, covered with talc plates and silver plaques in front of a screen of red. The name of the town signified "sweetness" and it turned out to be a place of great charm, imposing buildings and unusual cleanliness. The Rajah of Pudducottah was duly received and during his visit he showed the Prince a book consisting of original letters, dispatches etc., which had passed between Clive and his own ancestor during the times of French and English struggle for supremacy in Southern India. The Prince visited some of the ancient buildings of the place, including the Temple of Minakshee, where Nautch girls scattered flowers before him and garlands were placed over his shoulders, and the Tank of the Golden Lotus and received a number of interesting presents from the Rajah and from the Ranee of Shivagunga. He left on December 11th for Trichinoply, where he arrived in a few hours.

Here, His Royal Highness, after his progress through flowers, arches, crowds, officials and decorations of unusual richness and taste, visited the famous Temple of Seringham which has been described as "a vast bewildering mass of gate, towers, enclosures, courts, terraces and halls." In one of the last-named there were one thousand columns of granite each consisting of one block and carved with elaborate images of deities. The next place seen was the ancient Palace of the Nawabs of the Carnatic and here presentation of the notabilities of the city took place and an address was received by the future European Emperor of India in the very home of the olden Eastern power. The scene from this place in the evening was very striking—immense multitudes below, a great tank full of boats and blazing with coloured fires and lights, Clive's historic home on the opposite side and, above and over all, the vast pyramidical pile, the Rock of Trichinoply, with its Temple of Ganesa crowning the famous precipice and towering above the city.

PRINCE WELCOMED IN MADRAS

On December the 12th, the Royal visitor was again travelling and on the following day reached Madras, where he was formally welcomed by Lieutenant-Governor the Duke of Buckingham, the Rajah of Cochin, the Maharajah of Travancore, the Prince of Arcot, the Rajah of Vizianagram and others. The procession then passed from the station to Government House through the narrow streets of the native town and the wide thoroughfares of the European quarters. A golden umbrella was held over the Prince's head and thus the massed populace—more fortunate than that of Bombay—was able to be certain of his identity. At the Wallahjah Bridge some thousands of students and boys and girls were ranged on both sides, each school with its distinctive banners and badges. The audiences given afterwards at Government House to Native Chiefs, and the return visits, were conducted in the same manner and style as those at Bombay. In the afternoon a crowded Levee was held and in the evening a state banquet given to which the Governor invited all the chief personages in the City and Presidency. A brief reception followed and then His Royal Highness drove out to the Duke's country residence where he spent the following day in seclusion as being the anniversary of his father's death.

The events of the succeeding day included fashionable and interesting races at Guindy Park which all the Madras world attended under the patronage of the Prince; and in the afternoon a Royal reception of the Chancellor and officers and Fellows of the University; of the Grand Officers of the local Freemasonry; of Commissions or deputations from Mysore and Coorg and Coimbatore. Each of the latter bore gifts and all presented addresses. Formal calls were made upon the principal Chiefs and a memorial foundation stone of the new Harbour works laid. The latter was an impressive scene and on his way home the Prince, despite pouring rain, visited the historic Fort of St. George with its many reminders of past struggle and conquest. Another state banquet and reception followed.

On the following day the Prince enjoyed a spectacle of Indian jugglery and saw feats performed which in a western land would be deemed miraculous. December the 17th saw His Royal Highness lunching at the Madras Club where he tested Indian curries in their highest state of development and in the afternoon he was welcomed at the Park by thousands of children. A little later he reviewed a body of troops accompanied by the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Paul Haines. With the latter he dined in the evening and at ten o'clock drove to the Pier to see the great event of the visit. This was an illumination of the sea. Mr. W. H. Russell in his Diary says: "Man will never see any spectacle more strange—nay awful. Neither pen nor pencil can give any idea of it. It was exciting, grand, wierd and beautiful." Fireworks from the ships looked like volcanoes bursting from the deep, while multiplied fireboats had an effect upon the stony ink-blackness of the surf, like rolling flames pouring in upon the shores. At midnight the Prince passed from this scene to a special Native entertainment in his honour. The great railway station had been converted into a decorated theatre crowded with many thousand natives. Upon the elevated platform the Prince received an address and an exquisite gold casket and then watched a programme of eastern dancing. At six in the morning the Prince was up and away to attend a meet of the Madras pack and enjoy a few hours' sport—and in the afternoon the Serapis was again his home and Madras was left behind.

After a pleasant voyage up the Bay of Bengal the Prince of Wales arrived at Fort William, passed through a great fleet of vessels and prepared to enter Calcutta, the capital of the great Eastern Empire. Meantime, many eminent Indian officials and unofficial personages called to pay their respects and finally, the Earl of Northbrook, Viceroy and Governor-General. Amidst the thunder of artillery from fleet and forts His Royal Highness then landed and was welcomed by a great multitude of people, luxuriously seated in tiers of seats ranged beside two pavilions draped in scarlet, the canopies of which were upheld by gold pillars wreathed with flowers. Beyond was a massive arch of triumph and the platform and landing stage was carpeted with red cloth. In the surrounding crowd was the whole central machinery of government amongst three hundred millions of people and Rajahs, Chiefs and authorities innumerable. The procession through the "City of Palaces" was marked by the same splendour, the same crowds, the same curious contrasts as had impressed the observer at Bombay. But the absence of the night effect and its wierd illumination and the presence of certain indefinable elements made it more dignified; while the greater number of English people gave a certain leaven of western enthusiasm which had been wanting elsewhere. In the evening a magnificent banquet was given by the Viceroy and the city was a blaze of light and the scene of general festivity.

The day before Christmas saw a state reception more remarkable than any yet held. The first native prince to be received was the Maharajah of Puttiala—a melancholy-faced man who died soon afterwards. Then followed the Maharajah Holkar of Indore who was said to have L5,000,000 in gold stored away; the Maharajah of Jodhpore, who wore an indescribable glittering mass of gems; the Maharajahs of Jeypore, Cashmere, Gwalior; the Sultana Jehan, Begum of Bhopal, of whom little more than a shawl and a silk hood could be seen; and the Maharajah of Rewah, a dignified personage who was said by some writers to be suffering from leprosy. A Levee was then held and the Prince, for two hours, with the Duke of Sutherland on one side of him and Lieutenant-Governor Sir Richard Temple on the other, stood in full uniform bowing to a steady stream of people. Another state banquet in the evening, and then attendance at an entertainment some miles out of town gotten up by Native gentlemen, brought this Christmas Eve to a close. On the following day the Prince attended service at the Cathedral accompanied by Lord Northbrook and listened to a powerful sermon from Bishop Milman—who died of a fever caught on his Episcopal tour a few weeks later. He then drove to the harbour and went on board the Serapis, which was decked out in imitation of winter, and here had a sort of Christmas dinner. The rest of the day was spent at Barrackpoor, the Viceroy's country residence, but better known as the place where the terrible first signs of the Mutiny were detected. After church on the 26th (Sunday) the Prince made an excursion to the little French territory of Chandernagore—one of the remnants of historic empire.

On the following day His Royal Highness held another reception for Chiefs attended by envoys from the King of Burmah, the Maharajah of Punnah in person, an embassy from Nepaul, the noble-looking Rajah of Jheend, the Maharajahs of Benares, Nahun, and Johore. This was the last of the Chiefs, for the moment, and the Prince and his wearied suite could rest from a succession of sights and ceremonies in which dark-featured magnates with diamonds, emeralds, rubies and pearls and an infinite variety of Sirdar escorts, must have come to be a mere picturesque and confused medley. Many splendid presents were received and on the two following days return visits were paid in state. On December 21st the Prince witnessed a tent-pegging exhibition by the 10th Bengal Cavalry, made a round of the hospitals and asylums, and wound up with a garden party at Belvidere and a dinner and grand ball at Government House.

On New Year's Day the Prince of Wales held a Chapter of the Order of the Star of India in place of the Durbar which could only be held by the direct representative of the Sovereign. Opposite the entrance to Government House a canopied dais was erected, carpeted with cloth of gold, covered with light-blue satin and supported upon silver pillars. Two chairs with silver arms were placed upon the dais and around it were the marines and sailors of the Serapis while on the left were infantry of the line. At nine o'clock came the processions, each presaged by a flourish of trumpets. First came the Companions of the Order, Native and European, presenting a stream of picturesque uniforms and costumes. Then the Knights Grand Cross entered the Pavilion followed in the case of each Indian dignitary by a small procession of Sirdars in rich and varied dress—the Begum of Bhopal, Sir Salar Jung, the Maharajah of Puttiala, Lord Napier of Magdala, the Maharajah of Travancore, Sir Bartle Frere, the Maharajahs of Rewah, Jeypoor, Indore, Cashmere, and Gwalior. Then came the Prince of Wales wearing a white helmet and plume, and a Field Marshal's uniform almost concealed by his sky-blue mantle. Following him was the Viceroy and the two took the chairs placed on the dais. His Excellency, as Grand Master of the Order, then went through the ceremonial of opening the Chapter and then, from out the tented field of, literally, cloth of gold which surrounded the Royal pavilion, came one by one the Knights to be. Each in turn left his tent with stately accompaniments, approached, bowed and knelt at the footstool of His Royal Highness who spoke certain prescribed words and placed the Collar of the Order around his neck. As he rose the number of guns to which he was entitled thundered forth their salute. The Maharajahs of Jodhpoor and Jheend were thus invested with the Grand Cross and a number of others were made Knights Commander or Companions of the Order. The proceedings closed with a procession to Government House which lacked no element of Oriental splendour and displayed untold wealth in jewels and unique characteristics in costume.

In the afternoon the Prince unveiled an equestrian statue of the late Lord Mayo and afterwards attended a polo match. In the evening he drove to see the illumination of the fleet and then attended in state a theatrical performance with Charles Matthews as the central figure. On January 2nd, church was attended at Fort William and the arsenal inspected; the Botanical Gardens and Bishop's College visited; and an amateur concert of sacred music listened to at Government House in the evening. The next day's programme included the spectacle of tent-pegging and polo-playing between rival regiments; the reception of an LL. D. degree from the University of Calcutta; a visit to a Hindoo Zenana under arrangements made by Miss Baring, Lady Temple and others; and a farewell reception at Government House.

The Royal special train arrived at Bankipoor station, near Patna, on the morning of January 4th and the Prince was duly welcomed by Sir Richard Temple, Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, his officers and a great concourse of people. He was driven through an avenue of four hundred elephants, all gaily caparisoned, to the Durbar tent, where, under a canopy and in front of a sort of throne, His Royal Highness held a Levee and marked in every way possible his approval of the splendid work lately done by Sir R. Temple and his officials in stamping out famine. Luncheon followed, and then the train was taken for Benares. Here he arrived at dark and found the magnificent ghauts or terraces alive with lights. The procession drove over the bridge of boats across the Ganges and through crowded streets out to the camp of the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir John Strachey, where a special and beautiful structure had been prepared for the Prince. On the following day an address was presented by the Municipality of Benares and answered, a Levee held, the foundation-stone of a Hospital laid, the Rajah of Vizianagram visited, the famous Temples inspected. At sunset the Prince embarked in a galley and went four miles up the Ganges to the old Fort of Ramnagar, where he was received at a carpeted and decorated landing-place by the Maharajah of Benares and witnessed a beautiful spectacle of illuminated river and battlements. Preceded by spearsmen and banners, carried in gold and silver chairs, passing between lines of cavalry, accompanied by elephants and the constant strains of wild music, the host and his Royal guest then went to the Castle. From the roof was seen another charming sight—the Ganges and its banks and terraces so lit up as to look like a myriad of tiny stars passing between banks of flaming gold. More presents were received and the drive back to the camp commenced.

THE PRINCE VISITS LUCKNOW

Next day, the journey was resumed to Lucknow, on the Oudh and Rohilcund Railway. At that much-modernized city the Prince of Wales arrived on January 6th and stayed at what was once Outram's head-quarters. Here, next morning, he held two Levees—a Native and a European one—and then drove to see the historic spots of the famous city. In the afternoon he laid the foundation-stone of a Memorial to the Natives who fell in defence of the Residency and the Empire during the Mutiny. Lord Northbrook had succeeded in getting together many of the survivors from all over India and they stood around His Royal Highness in their old war-worn uniforms. A touching scene followed the Prince's impromptu intimation that these veterans might be presented to him, and to each he said a word of kindness. In the afternoon a Native entertainment was given in his honour at the ancient Palace of the Kings of Oudh and a crown set in jewels was presented with the formal address. A reception, banquet, and fireworks, followed, and on the next day the Prince enjoyed a little hard riding and "pig-sticking" sport, during which Lord Carington had his collar-bone broken.

Sunday was spent quietly in visiting various interesting places, after church, and on the succeeding day the Prince presented colours to a Native regiment and watched a march-past of troops. In the afternoon Cawnpore was visited, and then the train taken for Delhi, which was reached on the morning of January 11th. The entry into the Imperial City was surrounded with all possible pomp and circumstance. Lines of soldiery kept the streets from the station to the Royal camp, where rows of tents, avenues of shrubs and flowers, marquees and beautiful enclosures, formed a temporary home for the visitor and his suite. The first function was the reception of an address from the Municipality of a city which for one thousand years had been the seat of dynasties and native rule. A Levee followed and then dinner with Lord Napier of Magdala in his own mess-tent. On the following day a grand review was held and for an hour and a half a stream of horse, foot and guns flowed past. Then came a great banquet given by the Prince to the generals and officers and a ball at Selinghur in those "marble halls of dazzling light" which have been so often described. During the next few days a great sham fight was held; a visit paid to the Kootab, where the Prince mounted the summit of the famous pillar and viewed the wide-spread scene of ruin; the beautiful Mausoleum of Houmayoun was seen; and the illumination of the ancient city witnessed.

A REMARKABLE SPECTACLE AT LAHORE

On January 17th the beautiful city of tents disappeared and the Prince of Wales was on his way to Lahore. There, he was received with the usual state and drove four miles to Government House under the shade of a golden umbrella and in the gaze of a vast multitude of people. A remarkable spectacle was presented on the way by the encampment of the Rajahs of the Punjaub. In front of them stood a long line of elephants, caparisoned in gold and silver and gems, with armed retainers and a salute for the Royal visitor, which included all that the roll of drums, blare of trumpets and clang and roar of many strange instruments could produce. Amidst the elephants flashed lance and sword and cuirass and other things reminiscent of the days of western chivalry. At Government House an address was presented by the members of the City Council, wearing turbans of gold tissue, brocaded robes and coils of gems around their necks. A European Levee followed and then came the Native Chiefs. Afterwards the Prince visited the citadel and watched the sun set over the plains from a window once used by the Lion of Lahore in his days of power.

The next day saw a return visit to the Chiefs in their picturesque, costly and oriental encampments; the opening of a Soldiers' Industrial Exhibition at Mean Meer; and a beautiful illumination of the exquisite Shalimar Gardens in the evening. On January 20th the Prince left for Jummoo to visit the Maharajah of Cashmere. Later in the day he was welcomed by this ruler, some seven miles from his capital and, mounted on an elephant preceeded and followed by a stately cortege, the Royal visitor passed through two miles of winding streets, brilliantly lighted and lined by Native troops, while piled-up masses of people showed many types of the Cashmeres, Lamas, Sikhs, Afghans, etc. On the summit of a great ridge was a specially constructed building created at enormous cost for the visitor's accommodation. The usual reception followed together with a great banquet. Sport was the occupation of the next day and in the evening a procession took place through the illuminated city to dine at the Palace with the Maharajah. A feature of the latter's entertainment was an extraordinary sacred dancing drama by Lamas from Thibet. The departure on the following morning occurred amid all the state that Cashmere could present—and that was not little. At Wazirabad, on the way back to Lahore, a brief visit was paid, a great bridge inaugurated and a banquet accepted. Government House was reached in the evening and, with Lieutenant-Governor Sir H. Davies, His Royal Highness then attended a Native entertainment at the College and witnessed fireworks lighting up all the forts and battlements and a sea of heads in the distant darkness.

After a quiet Sunday at Lahore, the departure was made for Agra. On the way Umritzur was visited and the route to the Fort was lined and arched with artificial cypress-trees, gilded branches and garlands. An address was presented from the Municipality in which Sikh, Mohammedan and Hindoo united in expressions of fervent loyalty. Here the Golden Temple was visited. At Rajpoorah a stop was made to accept a banquet from the Maharajah of Puttiala in a beautiful palace of canvas. Early on January 25th Agra was reached and the usual Oriental reception and procession followed. At the camp on the following day a Levee was held and a large number of Native Chiefs presented. In the afternoon the troops of the latter passed in review before the Prince—a mixture of thousands of men and elephants, camels, horses and bullocks, and knights in armour.

The principal event of the ensuing day was a visit to the famous and exquisite Taj Mahul—"too pure, too holy, to be the work of human hands." During the next few days some time was spent in shooting with the Maharajah of Bhurtpore; a grand ball was given at the Fort; a long interview granted Sir Dinkur Rao, the Native statesman; local convents and schools visited; the tomb of Akbar the Great—described as the grandest in the world—seen at Sekundra; a visit paid to the loyal Maharajah of Gwalior at Dholepoor. The next point visited was the famous old fortress of Bhurtpore and then the beautiful city of Jeypoor. Here the Prince went tiger shooting with the Rajpoot Chiefs and shot his tiger and, in the evening of February 5th, saw illuminations in which every Indian device appeared to have been exhausted. From the hospitalities of the Maharajah the Prince, however, soon turned away with his face towards the Himalayas and his heart in the prospective period of sport and liberty. The land of Kumaoun was the scene and with him was a camp which included twenty-five hundred persons without counting a perambulating army of provision carriers. Bears, elephants, tigers, wild boars and varied birds and game were amongst the trophies of his gun during a period of splendid sport which lasted until March 6th.

On that day the Prince resumed his tour and his Royal state and proceeded to Allahabad where he was met by Lord Northbrood and held a reception and an investiture of the Star of India at which Major-General Sir Samuel Browne, V.C., Major-General Sir D. M. Probyn and Surgeon-General Sir J. Fayrer received the ensignias of knighthood. The route was then continued to Indore and, on the way, the Prince stopped long enough at Jubalpoor to see seven Thugs who had been in jail for thirty-five years for having committed an immense number of murders—one of them boasted sixty-five. At Indore, His Royal Highness was received by the Maharajah Holkar with due state and went through the usual programme of reception, visits and banquets—important in this case as being the last. Bombay was reached on March 11th and two days later all farewells were made and the future Emperor of India had left the shores of that mysterious, tragic and historical land, after having travelled in seventeen weeks seven thousand six hundred miles by land and two thousand three hundred miles by sea; met more Chiefs and notabilities than all the Indian Viceroys of the past put together; and seen more of the country and its surface life and varied customs than any living man.

HE MEETS LORD LYTTON AT SUEZ

Before leaving the Prince addressed a letter to the Viceroy expressing appreciation of the reception given to him and of the loyalty shown by the people. On the way home news came that Lord Lytton, the first representative of the Queen as Empress of India, was on the way out. As a personal friend of the Prince of Wales it was fitting that they should meet at Suez, where the new Viceroy came on board. At Cairo, the Prince was welcomed by the Khedive and his suite and a new round of gaiety commenced, including visits to the Pyramids and a little quiet shooting. At Alexandria, on April 2nd the Prince entertained the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia at dinner on the Serapis. The next point touched was Malta, where the thunder of the saluting fleet and fortress made the heavens ring. Here, seven addresses were presented and much enthusiasm shown by the populace. A great banquet was given by Sir W. and Lady Straubenzee and on April 7th new colours were presented by His Royal Highness to the 98th Regiment. Other functions followed. On April 15th the Prince was joined by his brother, the Duke of Connaught. The Island was en fete, and one of the events of the visit was the reception of a deputation from the Sultan of Morrocco. The festive proceedings of the time were wound up with a great ball.

WELCOMED IN SPAIN

The Prince of Wales landed incognito at Cadiz on April 20th and then proceeded, with the Duke of Connaught quietly to visit Seville and Cordova. At Madrid, which was reached on April 25th, the Royal party were formally welcomed by King Alfonso XII. and attended a state reception at the Palace. A military review was held by the King, and then a train was taken for the Palace of the Escurial, where King Alfonso acted as guide for his Royal guests amidst the bewildering artistic and other treasures of that immense and historic pile. Various functions of stately dignity followed the return of the Prince to Madrid, and the departure of the Duke for London, and the incidents of the period included attendance at a sitting of the Spanish Cortes, and the spectacle of a bull-fight. On April 30th His Royal Highness departed for Lisbon, where, on the following day, he was formally welcomed by King Louis of Portugal, his Court, the Foreign Ministers and the British Admirals of the fleet in the Tagus. There were no flags, or arches, or decorations, or tokens of welcome in the streets of Lisbon, but there was a vast mass of silent and respectful people. Many functions followed during the next few days and on May 7th the Serapis started once more for England. Four days later the ship was met by a yacht bearing the Princess of Wales and the Royal children and, in a few hours, the Heir Apparent was again at home from his famous journey and receiving a welcome at Portsmouth which was a fitting prelude to similar greetings in London and elsewhere.

Such a tremendous experience as this tour had proved could not but have a pronounced and important effect. The burden of a continuous succession of events in which he was the central figure; the strain of a steady succession of brilliant spectacles presenting a kaleidoscopic variety of sight and sound and splendour and incident; the weight of a constant burden of ceremonial and state observances in a land where the slightest carelessness, or indifference, or cordiality—at the wrong moment—meant mortal offense to some important dignitary, caste, or interest; the physical trial of innumerable functions to a man clad in European costumes in a tropical climate; the infinite variety of his duties, the peculiar character of the hours maintained, the lack of sleep and the continuous round of banquets; must have tried the mind and heart and body about equally. In the end the experience must have broadened the conceptions and ideas of the Prince; educated him in a better perception of his immense responsibilities; trained him in an iron school of etiquette and helped to teach him that inflexible routine of duty which must ever face a British Sovereign.

To the people of India the tour brought home a clearer perception of the personal power presiding over their destinies and a vivid picture of the greatness of the authority before which all their greatest dignitaries with the traditions of many thousand years, bowed in loyal obeisance. To the imaginative Indian mind nothing more effective could have been presented than the scenes of that brilliant and triumphal passage through the stamping ground of ancient conquerors. To the people of Great Britain it brought home a more realizable sense of the vastness of their dominions and the equivalent greatness of their national duty and responsibility. It helped to lay the foundation of that Imperial future of which Disraeli then dreamed and for which others have since laboured with a measure of success shown in the events preceding and following the accession of Edward VII., King and Emperor.



CHAPTER IX.

Thirty Years of Public Work

During the years between 1872 and the end of the century the Prince of Wales filled a place in public affairs not unlike that of the Prince Consort in the later and ripest period of his useful life. He grew steadily in the faculties which make for wisdom in council and action while retaining and developing the qualities which make for popularity and, in a Prince, may embody the characteristics and feelings of his nation. In those thirty years he saw much and travelled far; met many men of varied qualities and attainments and character; learned much by personal experience and observation and much from other people's experience; tested almost the pinnacle of earthly splendour in his Indian tour and learned in private something of the suffering which comes to all individuals whether great or little. He created the position of Heir Apparent as now understood; gave it a significance and value never before attained to; and filled it with a tact and ability which no detraction or misrepresentation could practically affect, and which in time made him the admittedly most all-round popular man in the United Kingdom.

Before his illness the Prince had carried out a good many public engagements and helped a great number of useful objects. After that event and the outpouring of popular sentiment which found vent in the National Thanksgiving he became still more devoted to his round of public duties. On July 5th 1872, His Royal Highness visited the new Grammar School at Norwich and inspected the Norfolk Artillery Militia of which he was Honorary Colonel. At a banquet given by the Mayor he referred to his late illness, in expressing thanks for local sympathy, and added: "It is difficult now for me to speak upon that subject but as it has pleased Almighty God to preserve me to my country I hope I may not be ungrateful for the feeling which has been shown towards me and that I may do all that I can to be of use to my countrymen." On July 25th, he reviewed four thousand boys of the Training ships and Pauper Schools of the Metropolitan Unions at South Kensington, and distributed prizes. The Prince was accompanied by the Princess of Wales and his sons. A little later, on August 11th, the Breakwater at Portland was inaugurated, the Royal yacht being accompanied from Osborne by a splendid fleet of fifteen ironclads. At the conclusion of the ceremony the Prince visited Weymouth, which was gaily decorated, and where he accepted a public banquet.