TO LONDON FOR THE JUBILEE c^^O /-y- TO LONDON / FOR THE JUBILEE BY • • • r\ '1 • • • TORONTO: GEORGE N. MORANG 63 Yonge St. 1897 Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand eight hun- dred and ninety- seven, by George N. Morang, at the Department of Agriculture. PRINTED BT TBI CARSWKLL CO. LIHITID. PREFACE. •••• In offering this little volume to the pub- lic, I am obeying the commands of certain shadows who, ever since these letters first appeared in the Mail and Empire^ have written over vague signatures asking that such letters be gathered together and pre- sented in the form of a book. I am now presenting them in such a form. I am hoping that you will care to read them. Their only recommendation is that they recite (in a more or less fragmentary man- ner, I fear), the principal movements of the great pageant of the Queen's Jubilee, an event, the most dignified and tender of the century. The letters have been little if at all altered. They are newspaper writings, which were set down with a hot pen while the events related were yet happening. vi Preface. They are offered to you for what they are, as a little memory that you might care to have and keep of the most historical year in all the hundred years which are n earing their close. I cannot say much for them. Perhaps you will be kind and accept them with all their shortcomings. KIT. CONTENTS. •••• I. The Eve of the Jubilee. II. Jubilee Day — London Decorations. III. Via Triumphalis. IV. The Lights o' London. V. The Review of the Fleet. VL The Royal Military Review. VIL State Night at Covent Garden. VIIL Colonials Decorated by the Prince of Wales. IX. The Duchess of Devonshire's Fancy Ball. I. The Eve of The Jubilee S the train steamed softly into London you caught your first sight of the Jubilee decorations. Coming direct from the freshness of a bright Canadian city, gray old London, with the soft blue mists of June enveloping her, and her flags and bunting gaily flying, gave a splendid picture to the eye tired of sad ocean reaches and the monotony of the mournful sea. A sort of breathlessness seized one at sight of the tall towers of Westminster loom- ing through the soft blue vapours ; at glimpses up long vistas of streets already decorated with tall Venetian masts and crimson draperies ; at Father Thames shining in the June sunlight, with slow-moving barges sailing evenly upon his broad breast, One felt the nearness of the Jubilee, the importance 10 The Jubilee. that was attached to this great and historical event, now that one was on the spot and at the heart of things. When the train stopped at Waterloo Station the first burst of the splendour of London came full upon one, for all London society seemed thronging upon the platforms on its way down to the Jubilee Ascot, where, as you know, the Prince's Fersimmon behaved in a royal manner. We had a glimpse at great people and their clothes. The young Duchess of Marlborough wore a pink foulard, and had three little frills edged with lace to lier skirt. The bodice was guipure lace over white satin. The sash was black. A charming toque of black and white chiffon, with pink roses, topped up this gay costume, and the Duchess looked very well, very Eng- lish, and very, very young. The Mar- chioness of Londonderry wore a lovely gown of dove-gray moire, with a queer waving satin design upon it. A lace bolero opened on a soft front of white silk muslin and exquisite lace. This chic little coat was edged with grey The Jubilee. 11 chiffon. Her sunshade was of burnt- straw coloured satin, covered with Cluny lace and edged with lisse. The Duchess of Westminster also wore gray. It was a delicate silver-gray gown of bengaline, finished with billows of creamy guipure lace. The bodice v/as a fluff of white chiffon. The sunshade was gray. Mrs. Graham Murray, the wife of the Lord Advocate for Scot- land, wore a water-green and white silk, simply veiled with white silk grenadine, under which it shimmered softly. She reminded one of pond lilies and cool river reaches, and the quiet country places. Many women wore lovely dust cloaks of gray or fawn silk, under which you could catch the sheen of satin and billowy edges of white chiffon. There were many glori- ous poke bonnets tied round fresh, 1 jlly Varden, English faces. Altogether it was a lovely, cheery sight. Driving from Waterloo Station, tho first hansom that passed us contained Mr. Laurier, Somehow I took it as a good omen. It brought Canada near in 12 The Jubilee. a rather down-hearted moment — down- hearted, probably, because of certain fears as to where one would lay one's head that night in this overcrowded, tumultuous London. I thought I had seen crow^ds and knew all about them. Had one not experienced Chicago Day at the greatest fair of the world? Was not one packed with other sardines in a row at the inauguration at Washing- ton ? And did not one know what a London crowd looked like ? " Eather," I would have answered had anyone ad- dressed these interesting queries to me a couple of weeks ago in Toronto. But here was a five and a half million crowd augmented by three millions more. The big town is literally packed. With dif- ficulty does the traffic make any head- way, and yet it is marvellous to see the way the streets are managed. The " bobby " lifts his imperial hand, and busses, cabs, drays, hand-waggons, bi- cycles, fall back as it were on their haunches, and the crowd surges across the narrow streets ; then onward rushes the stream of traffic, and the wooden The Jubilee, 18 streets resound hollowly to the tramp of horses' feet. The hum rises to a dull roar, the Mansion House crossing looks impassable, and shoals of timid women make wild dashes for the little stone " islands " in the middle of the streets, and hover on these stony shores until some officer, pitying these pilgrims, escorts them across deep waters and lands them on the other side. Country cousins are here, thick as the currants on the bushes in their gardens. They block the way, and get run into as they stand gaping at the decorations along the Strand and Fleet street. The latter roadway is almost impossible to tra- verse. You march along at a funeral pace, often getting a " set-back " from the crowd in front, and oftener rush- ing forward impelled by umbrella and elbow-prods from the throng behind. Your toes are calmly trampled upon, and there is no time to resent it. By the time you reach Ludgate Hill you are hobbling like a cripple, but you see St. Paul's in the distance, and gird up again, and struggle to its heavenly pre- 14 The Jubilee. cincts, where you sit in a dim corner, and suddenly forget all about your punched and bruised person, because afternoon service is going on, and a boy's voice lifts you with it to the dome, and you are lost to London. Ordinarily, London holds something over five millions of people, but just now she is called upon to house and feed eight millions and a half. Never was such an immense crowd seen before in the world's capital. The doings of ten years previous, on the occasion of the first Jubilee, fade into insignificance before the splendour of the present un- dertakings. The very Cit}' of London proper — always such a deserted and lonely place after business hours — is invaded by hordes from the provinces — from America, from the Cr^jnies, Soldiers in strange uniforms are to be met with everywhere. The women on the streets blaze with diamonds and jewels. These women are largely the American contingent, who never — it seems — can be taught the vulgarity of wearing gems on the street. In the The Jubilee. 15 Park, early in the morning, you find the really nice London people. The prettiest human butterflies in the world flutter here in the first sunshine of these pleasant June days. Lady Ethel Keith - Falconer rides here often. She has a splendid seat, and rides her beautiful mare with an ease that you do not find among riding-school girls You can only get that by country and hunt work, and it is not common in London. I saw Lord Wolseley in a brown squash hat the other day, pacing along the Row on his horse, and bowing to the Duke of Cambridge. Nearly all London's beau- ties come here for a quiet morning walk or ride. The Irish girls are holding their own. Lovely Lady Moyra Cavendish, in white canvas, is something to wonder at. Miss Enid Wilson, one of the greatest beauties here, has a young sister just coming out, whose exquisite little face is one of the joys of the Jubilee to who- ever is fortunate enough to look upon it. The dresses are dreams of costly simplicity. Almost the fir^it thing to do was to 16 The Jubilee. call at the Colonial Chambers, 17 Vic- toria street, and pay one's respects to our High Commissioner, Sir Donald Smith. Overwhelmed with business as Sir Donald is at this moment, he always finds time to help you on your way, give information of all kinds to travel- ling Canadians, and welcome everyone from the Dominion. The Colonials are really the most important people in town just now, and Canada stands at the head of the Colonies. I called on Mr. Laurier at the Hotel Cecil. There are seven Premiers staying at this magnificent hostelry, and each is pro- vided by the British Government with suites of rooms and special servants. I found a Royal Canadian Dragoon guarding the entrance to Mr. Laurier's suite. Quite a crowd was awaiting admittance, and the Premier has not a moment to himself. The Earl of Jersey was with him when we called, and all sorts of notabilities were down in the visitors' book. Our Premier had time, however, for everybody. His private room is a pretty, secluded chamber, The Jubilee. 17 furnished in pale blue and lemon colour. On the table there was a huge bunch of the largest and most beautiful orchids I have ever seen, and in the midst of these there stood one tall hollyhock. That quaint, old-fashioned flower was somehow a comfort to one. It brought thoughts of an old garden, and moon- light nights, a.id music stealing out through open windows, and — maybe, tender words. " And we'll be seeing the old garden," I told Thady, who sat silent, oppressed by London and all this grandeur and the thoughts of seeing the Premier. But he paid no heed to my words. "Wait till I tell John," he whispered. " He thinks he's great be- cause his mother shook hands with the President of the United States, but he'll get a tit when he hears Mr. Laurier shook hands with me." Mr. Laurier received us with his usual kindly courtesy. He is looking extremely well, despite the incessant fatigue to which he is subjected with his immense correspondence and atten- tion to the crowds of visitors who are 2* 18 The Jubilee. constantly calling. As we arose to leave, I said : — "I suppose it will be Sir Wilfrid when next we meet, Mr. Laurier ? " To which he replied that it was optional with him whether it would be so or not, and he had not yet made up his mind about it. He is certainly a great success in London, is our Premier. He takes precedence — as no doubt you will have read — of all the other Premiers, and will head the Colonial procession alone, in a royal carriage. His speech at the Colonial dinner, given at the Imperial Institute, when the Prince of Wales gave, as the principal toast of the evening, " Our guests, the Colonial Pre- miers," was a most happy one, although his assertion that the Queen has no more loyal and devoted subjects than the French-Canadians was to me a little surprising when I remembered the in- tense loyalty and almost adoration in which her Majesty is held by her Eng- lish, Irish and Scotch Colonists. Still Mr. Laurier knows whereof he speaks, The Jubilee. 19 and the fact that the leading man in the Dominion is a French-Canadian carries ^reat weight. Mr. Laurier add- ed that nowhere is the unity of the Empire more prized than in the Domin- ion. He was assuredly right in that. Altogether Canada assumes a very important place in London just now, and the cheers whenever " Our Boys " parade are deafening. Some of the London papers have it that there is no " system " about the preparations made for the Colonies. A Canadian wrote to a London journal on this matter, and concluded his letter with : " We cannot kick up a row here, but we can write home, and do you blame us if we do ? " Scanty welcome and abundant snubs are what this Cana- dian complains of, and the Daily Graphic publishes a conversation with one of the Australian troopers, which rather upholds the Canadian's view of things. " We always get a good din- ner," said the Australian, "and have a capital time outside barracks, but we are somtimes a little short morning 20 The Jubilee. and night." Naturally the English papers' are incensed at this sort of thing, and while abusing the want of system of the authorities, they declare that the Colonials are the men " whom all Eng- land is desirous to honour." In fact, the Colonies are the big people of the Jubi- lee, representing as they do the solidity and integrity of the vast British Em- pire. Their loyalty is exploited in the editorials of the leading papers, and the brightest tribute to Queen Victoria on her Commemoration Day will be the immense Colonial contingent, which as- sures the whole world — if any such as- surance were needed — of the might and strength of the British Empire, and of the extreme personal attachment felt for her Majesty, not only as Queen, but as a most perfect and beautiful example of all womanly virtues, by her subjects from the Colonies. Any want of " sys- tem," therefore, in the arrangements made for Colonial troops, will, I feel as- sured, be speedily rectified. To drift to other matters. London belongs just at present to The Jubilee. 21 carpenters and decorators. There is virtually no business doing. Shop fronts are boarded up, and business people are grumbling. Not for merely one day has commerce been interrupted, but for a full week. The decorations, as well as the Queen's procession, I will reserve for another letter, touching on them merely so far as to say that they are on a very magnificent scale and outdo anything I have ever seen. The difficulty will be to find words wherein to describe gray old London in her royal garments. Royalty is rather cheap just now. That is, you may meet it anywhere. The other night we saw the Prince and Prin- cess of Wales and Prince and Princess Charles of Denmark at Mme. Bern- hardt's performance of that exceedingly dull and long-drawn-out tragedy " Lor- enzaccio," at the Adelphi. The always- divine Sarah pla3^s the part of a young man, who w^ears black tights and a black embroidered tunic with a black cloak. From amid these sombre sables her blonde head and clear-cut features 22 The Jubilee, rise radiant, delicate, cameo-like, and marvellously youthful ; but as a fact not even the genius of the great actress is able to cope with a play so gloomy, crude and monotonous. Madame Bern- hardt cannot lay aside her petticoats with impunit}^ and she assuredly de- serves much commendation for the de- votion to her art which leads her to dis- card them on this occasion, and appear as the diminutive hero of de Musset's tiresome drama. The Royal party seemed very pleased, however, and applauded heartily, and Bernhardt received an ovation. ^P" ^^ ^^ VJn ^> "^ ^^ '^* "T^ ^^ We take off our hats to the Queen, We take off our hats to the Queen ; We tell naughty tales to the good Prince of Wales, But we take off our hats to the Queen. So sings the knowing little soubrette at the Gaiety. Poor Prince ! Gen- ial First Gentleman of Europe ! they are always having a sly fling at him. He is truly beloved for all that. What a popular King he will be if ever he The Jubilee, 23 gets the chance ! The theatres along the Strand are doing a roaring busi- ness. Country cousins go with delight to spend " A Night Out " at the Vaude- ville, and '* Two Little Vags " delight crowds at the Standard. " The Red Lamp" and "Ballad -Monger" at- tract immense audiences, and yet the streets are fairly impassable at night with the throng of people who move along at funeral pace. Ambling and shambling and blocking up the thor- oughfare before the splendid " Old Lady of Threadneedle Street," who for many nights before Jubilee day was attired in royal jewels, the people from the country stand and gape while the Artful Dodgers pick their pockets. Everybody has to walk un- der ladders, whether it wiK bring him ill-luck or not ; and every other per- son receives with equanimity the drop- pings of shavings and paint-pots. The penny merchant stands along the kerb, indifferent to the noses of horses which rest on his shoulders, and to the frantic cries of enraged cabbies, so long as he 24 The Jubilee, can sell you a jubilee decoration. You see many shabby people. Seedy old men and faded old women perambulate the West-end and gaze, lost in admira- tion, at the club decorations along Pali- Mall. The very poor are out expressing their loyalty, and the meanest London street, along which a parade of troops (not the Queen's procession) is expected spends its pennies — none too plentiful — in little Jacks and tawdry roses, and bits of bunting. There is to me some- thing very touching, not to say pathetic, about this expression of loyalty from poor and dingy Londoners. Their *• God Bless Our Queen," " Sons of the Colon- ies, we are proud of you," written in sloppy letters on a rag of bunting, carry a cordiality and honesty with them which one hardly finds expressed in the more gorgeous mottoes of the wealthy districts. It cost some self-denial to get up even these poor little decora- tions — therefore are they priceless, as the gifts of the poor always are. It is a glorious thing, we know, to be a Pirate King, therefore the private The Jubilee. 25 'buses are out in force, and the conduc- tors thereof swoop down upon your sixpence and behold with scorn your coppers. Ihey are raking the big city fore and aft. Occasionally the passen- gers mutiny and leave the ship in a body, whereupon the disappointed pirate expresses his private emotions in lan- guage quite unfitted for the use of schools, and not to be printed in jour- nals for fear of the Young Person. Sharks sail about the London streets, and gobble the colonial and country little fishes. Altogether there is a good deal of wholesale plundering going on. We spent a moment or two at old St. Stephen's. The House w^as in jubilee mood, and it was easy to capture your particular member. The place was full of American ladies, who, lu splendid apparel, which lighted up the sombre dark-green hue of the House of Com- mons, were being escorted everywhere by attentive Parliamentary cavaliers. I had a few minutes' chat wituT. P. O'Con- nor, and a glance at the Speaker and a few other Parliamentary notabilities. 26 The Jubilee. There is a tremendous fall in the price of seats. The jubilee syndicate seats people will learn the value of soap-bubbles. Their prices were for- bidding, and it is now surmised that sales of seats will never pay for the elaborate stands the syndicate got up. The wise ones wait till the last mo- ment, and then procure places at a trifling cost of twelve shillings or so. Many orders have been cancelled. Two windows in Fleet Street, which at first asked twenty -five pounds a window, and are now willing to let you have them at two guineas each, will give some faint idea of the slump in seats. Mean- time the sandwich men go up and down with all sorts of prices printed on their backs, and the street vendors sell everything from jubilee pins to penny matches. The carpenters drop ends of timber and fragments of gas- pipe on the heads of the innocent crowd ; little fires start and frizzle up the paper roses and strings of ever- greens, and cemeteries are hidden away under loads of finery. Thus The Jubilee, 27 do the dead participate. As for the rest — We take off our hats to the Queen, We take off our hats to the Queen ; We tell naughty tales to the good Prince of Wales, But — we take off our hats to the Queen, 28 The Jubilee, II. Jubilee Day LONDON DECORATIONS. No city in the world lends itself more readily to decorative art than the old, gray, hoary City of London. The June sunshine which floods the streets on these summer mornings turns the smoke-cloud — which lies always over the vast city — to faint blue tones, misty, cloud-like, unreal. Through this blue haze the ancient, gray, stone houses, the blackened steeples of churches, the domes, the high roofs, loom vaguely. Sometimes they are quite lost in mists, and the steeples are often far up in cloudland ; the sky seems to brood low in dim, gray vapours that descend on the high roofs and envelop them softly. Then, as if a radiant hand swept aside this curtain of mist, the old buildings, suddenly irradiated with sunshine, stand forward, exhibiting many a quaint Tlie Jubilee. 29 griffin and gargoyle, and the doves wheel in soft gray circles about St. Paul's, and the Temple, and the British Museum, and sometimes they, too, are lost in the clouds. Looking down the streets one sees the buildings at the far end through these delicate mists, which soften the old dark places, and make London a half-phantom City — a place where poetry lurks as well as romance ; a sort of grim old fairyland, peopled by fan- tastic and weird human types. Given, then, this City of fog and smoke ; these narrow gray streets ; these ancient and blackened churches ; these tall and aged houses ; given these — to say nothing of broader thorough- fares, of glorious green parks, of com- monplace shop-lined roads — all deco- rated with a reticent magnificence, an artistic taste, an admirable harmony, a fine regard for the unities, and you have a picture of splendid colouring, which nothing short of the brush of the great- est painter could present. I shall begin with the City proper, and try to give a faint idea of the 30 The Jubilee. splendour in which this old, old part of London arrayed herself for the coming of her Queen. Afterwards we shall drift — spasmodically, for I cannot pre- tend to describe them all — to the decora- tions of the West-end. The City hoary and old, the City which has seen so many processions— -Coronation Proces- sions, Royal Funeral Processions, Processions to the Scaffold and to the Tower — has an interest far and away beyond that which the more modern and youthful part of London com- mands. It is so old and gray. The houses seem full of grim secrets and grimmer laughter. They have seen so much. So many ants have moved along the ways carrying each one his burden ; so many poor little royal hu- man atoms have pranced in gallant ar- ray along the narrow streets, atoms long since ground into dust in the great mill of Eternity; so many still poorer human atoms have gone on their hopeless way to destruction and to the river. And the old houses have seen them all. The old houses that The Juhitee. 31 lave been bedecked so many times tor so many Royal Processions. Bulg- ng forward as though bursting with reminiscences, these ancient dwellings [are yet again to be decorated for a [Royal Progress. Beginning, then, at the Griffin, that [odd monument which replaces terrible ITemple-Bar, let us look down Fleet Itreet. I wonder what Dr. Johnson ^ould have said had he seen the lamp- )osts he so loved to touch on, all jlothed with purple and gold, with long loops of greenery festooning them, one dth another? Doubtless he would lave bellowed, " What's all this, sir ? 'hat's all this d — d nonsense, sir?" ind have passed, growling, to visit Gold- smith, at No. 6 Wine Office Court, and thence the two friends would have [ourneyed to the sanded parlour of the /heshire Cheese, and there surveyed [hings from the famous window of that tncient tavern. And they would have |een how the telegraph-poles that re- place the lamp-posts were turned into [uare columns, surmounted by tall 32 The Jubilee. tripods, bearing flowers, and how these columns were clothed with purple cloth and twined with gold, each one bearing mouldings and enrichments, and shields and banners, covered with gold leafage. A wreath with the initial " V " appeared in a little panel at the top of each column, and the garlands of green which linked them were each caught up in the middle, and festooned gracefully along the ways. And from where they were looped there hung charming bouquets of purple and yellow flowers, which swayed in the wind, now almost against the old black walls of St. Dunstan's Church ; now out towards the centre of the narrow street. Columns bearing relief banners of ele- phants, through whose trunks the lines of garlands passed, were also placed at intervals. These elephants w^ere decked with gold and purple trappings, and were mounted on bases of Eastern de- sign. The houses were festooned with crimson and purple cloth, shields, crowns — which at night would blaze as with royal jewels — and other charming de- vices. Thus old Fleet Street, through The Jubilee. 33 whose historical way all the Coronation IProcessions of ages liave passed on their Jway from the Tower to Westminster ; iwhose straight street witnessed in 1448 ithe most extraordinary procession of lill, that of Eleanor Cobham, Duchess f Gloucester, and aunt of Henry VI., I^valking bareheaded through it to St. aul's, with a lighted taper in her hand, n penance for having made a wax fig- re of the young King, and melted it efore a slow fire, praying that his life iglit melt with the wax. On up Ludgate Hill. Here we have belisks draped still with royal purple nd gold, with embossed devices, and reat palms bearing the Queen's mono- ram. So to St. Paul's, where the ast warehouses in the churchyard ave followed the harmonies of Fleet treet and Ludgate Hill, by draping hemselves with the same royal colours larvellous loopings of purple cloth re outlined in gold, and mixed with hese there are lines of shields bearinof olden palms, and floral crowns and )ouquets, and rich hane^ing baskets 3* 34 The Jubilee. filled with flowers. Down now to the Mansion House, the Bank and all the rich heart of the world's greatest city. Evergreens festooned with blue-em- broidered draperies almost hide the great house of London's Lord Mayor. Around its immense columns garlands twined, and the Royal Crown was out- lined upon these splendid hangings. Facing the Mansion House stands the Equitable Life office, gaily picked out with light and dark blue. Over the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street there was erected a great allegorical paint- ing by Legros, symbolizing Great Britain, Labour and Commerce, and all about the gray old buildings look- ed almost grotesque, arrayed with this splendid flaunting of flags, draperies, flowers, shields and crowns. Every- where " V. R." met the eye, and half hidden among the gorgeous hangings one could detect the dull-coloured bulbs, which at night would flash forth in golden, crimson and green ropes of light, that would transfigure this an- cient city, and make of her for the moment a city fit for the gods. The Jubilee. 35 Down Cheapside and the Poultry, Venetian masts, painted dark blue and supporting small shields, golden crowns, and royal quarterings, line the road. Further on lines of little flags flutter in festoons between the richly-draped telegraph poles. The great railway bridge by St. Saviour's Church, cross- ing to the Borough, was roofed with cloth of purple and gold ; the letters V. I. R. were supported in the middle of it by natural palm fronds, while fes- toons of flowers hung from gilded laurel wreaths. In the Borough, you came again on Venetian masts draped with crimson and yellow, with garlands stretched between and fastened with purple and gold sashes. At old St. Georges (Little Dorrit's church), Southwark, sweeping garlands were stretched on wires across the road. Large gilt eagles, with wings out- stretched, brooded above the roadway, sustained there by invisible wires, and ropes of greenery trailed off* in charm- ing curves over the nearest house-tops. Again came decorated masts — how Bri- 36 The Jubilee. tain rejoices in her navy — and stream- ers, and ropes of flowers topped by standards upon which little gilded lions *' ramped." Further along the famous cricket-bat makers, Messr . Lilly white & Frowd, had a big sign out congratu- lating the Queen on her record innings, " 60 and not out." Along the quaint old Borough, crystal Prince of Wales Feathers replaced the lamps. And now imjxgine for yourseh^es the streets arrayed thus, the gray houses glorious with colour, yet preserving their reti- cent, grave, serious individuality, as though saying, " Yes, you may deck us with gewgaws ; you may festoon us with drapings and flowers in honour of our beloved Queen, but w^e will not per- mit you to infringe upon our respect- ability, nor our solidity, of which we beg to inform her Majesty." But the gay little flags brushed across the brows of those grim old houses, and the flower- baskets beat softly against the gray walls, and the great ropes and ever- greens, lifting on the wind, tried to crown their stony heads with wreaths The Jubilee. 87 of laurel, and down below the crowd murmured and cheered, and flung abroad its laughter. PTo ! for London Bridge ! the Queen never crossed it until Jubilee Day. She went \nuler it in the Royal barge with her prince-husband tliat day long ago, when they went to inspect the Thames tunnel. But not until she had reigned for sixty years did her Majesty cross it. The Mayor and Corporation did nobly. The crimson gates were thrown wide, and a great arch built on royal- crowned poles, gay with gold and violet garlands, floral shields bearing the dates 1837-1897, and a royal crown in flowers of yellow, scarlet and white spanned the centre of the bridge. Long, white masts stretched away, and from them the flags flung out over the great river. Opal globes, ready for illuminating the bridge at night, clustered above the gas standards. The craft in the river were gloriously dressed in the gayest colours, and the view of the Thames on either side of the immense bridge was en- chanting in colour and harmony. Far 33 The Jubilee. off, the Monument, with it8 long lines of bunting curving down from the high gallery, brings this marvellous scene to a climax. There is no expression in mere language for the splendour of the decorations. They tire the senses. It is too much. Away, for a moment, to some parts of the West-end of London. The clubs, St. James, Piccadilly, and the Strand — verging as it does citywards — demand attention. Where shall I begin ? One grows confused, dazed with all this mag- nificence. In Piccadilly, from Hyde Park corner to the top of St. James Street, the decorations almost baffle de- scription. Venetian masts, hung with evergreens, flowers, electric light bulbs, ran along either side. Crimson cloth, picked with gold, almost clothed the houses. Lord Rothschild's house, at Hyde Park corner, was simply studded with flags, red, white and blue. The courtyard seats were canopied with red striped canvas, festooned with pink and white flowers, which ran along between tall poles clothed in white and red. Tiie The Jubilee. 39 Junior Constitutional Club was also fes- tooned with gay little flags, and the bal- conies were draped with cloth of light blue, red and white. From Apsley House (the Duke of Wellington's mansion) many flags floated, the Royal Standard, the Jack, the Spanish, Portuguese and Belgian flags. A flag-framed picture of the Queen' shone from the face of the house. Crimson and gold enwrapped the Junior Athenseum Club, and with the Burdett-Coutts house, the decora- tions reached a climax of loveliness. Imagine the whole side of a building decorated with drapery, simulating leaves, and over these hangings of crim- son and mauve velvet edged with gold, the whole topped by a greao crown ! It was a splendid sight ! One of the most marvellous in London. But when you turned into St. James* street you almost cried out, for it was walking into fairyland ! All across the road hung garlands of greenery. These formed great St. Andrew crosses, and from these and the straighter garlanded lines depended huge baskets of flowers. 40 TJie Jiihilee. Other ropes of feathery fronds were festooned and looped from the crosses ; while birds, with outstretched wings, were invisibly wired so as to sway in and out among the greenery and flower baskets. Fifty tall white masts lined the street, and these were linked and crossed with garlands of Britisli oak, crowns, and wreaths, and ropes of roses. Upon these crept lines of electric bulbs, ready for lighting when the darkness fell. The houses, heavy with crimson cloth, with purple and gold, and paler drapings of pink and silver and delicate mauve, were softened by the swaying green roof that shaded all the street. One walked in a lovely arbour, seeing a vista of tender blue mist, which served as a delicate veil to all this beauty. Below, at the foot of the street, the stern gray old palace, unadorned, laden with history, heavy with the secrets of ages, seemed to view witli sad eyes this resplendent roadway, this shimmering green-roofed street, the most fitting highway for royalty to travel that has ever been seen before in London. The The Jubilee. 41 contrast, of all this fairy-like beauty, this splendour, with the old brick gate- way and sfrim walls of St. James' Pal- ace, struck one with a shock. The mind leaped to history. There was something sardonic in the appearance — amidst all this exquisite frivolity — of this old fortress, with the Anna Boleyn love- knots on the side-doors of its heavy gateway, with the memories of Charles I. about its ancient rooms, with the echoings of the marriage rites of Mary and William of Orange whispering through the dim corridors ; this palace where Kings and their mistresses lived ; where Queens died and Princea were born. We could no longer view further decorations. We came to a dead stop here by the old palace. London seemed to end before these gaunt, gray walls, pierced with the narrow, peering win-