CHAPTER XII

THE KING’S TOUR IN INDIA

Lord Canning, the great Viceroy of India, once told the Prince Consort how desirable he thought it that the Prince of Wales should, when grown up, visit Queen Victoria’s Eastern Empire, and later on, those who had the privilege of the young Prince’s friendship were well aware that an Indian tour had become one of his most ardent wishes.

But the project of the Heir-Apparent’s visit to India only really took shape early in 1875, and on 20th March it was publicly announced that the Prince contemplated this journey, the Marquis of Salisbury, who was then Secretary of State for India, making an official announcement to the Council of India of the intended event. The Council passed a resolution that the expenditure actually incurred in India should be charged on the revenues of that country.

Curiously enough, a great deal of hostile feeling was aroused by the announcement of this Royal tour. On 17th July a great meeting was held in Hyde Park to protest against the grant of money which was then being sanctioned by Parliament to defray the expenses of the journey. Many people went so far as to declare that they would have acquiesced in the passing of the vote had the Heir-Apparent’s visit to his mother’s Eastern dominions been a “State visit” instead of a mere “pleasure trip.” And yet it need hardly be pointed out that, greatly as King Edward looked forward to his tour, the journey was likely to prove anything but a mere “pleasure trip” to India’s Royal visitor. He and those about him well knew that from the moment he landed at Bombay till the day he left India he would not only constantly remain _en évidence_, but he also expected to conciliate the many different races with which he was going to be brought in contact when passing through the various Indian States.

There were many points to be considered about the tour. The rules and regulations which had sufficed for the Prince in Canada and the Colonies were inapplicable to India. One notable feature of Oriental manners is the exchange of presents between visitors and hosts, and it was early arranged that King Edward’s luggage should contain £40,000 worth of presents to be distributed among the great feudatory and other potentates who would have the honour of entertaining or at any rate of meeting him.

It was also arranged that he was to be the guest of the Viceroy, Lord Northbrook, from the moment he landed on Indian soil; and, roughly speaking, it was estimated that the expenses of the reception alone would probably come to about £30,000. The estimate made by the Admiralty for the expenses of the voyage to and from India, and the movements of the fleet in connection with the Royal visit, came to £52,000; while for the personal expenses of the visit a vote of £60,000 was included in the estimate submitted to the House of Commons when in Committee of Supply. However, here again this suggestion did not meet with universal approval when the necessary resolution was brought forward in the House. Mr. Fawcett, afterwards Postmaster-General, raised a discussion, basing his objections to the vote partly on sentimental and partly on economic grounds. However, he only found thirty-three members to agree with him, and the vote was passed. During the debate, Mr. Disraeli, who was then Prime Minister, drew a very remarkable picture of the extraordinary pomp and circumstance with which King Edward was about to be surrounded.

It was felt better that he should go as Heir-Apparent of the Crown, and not as the representative of Her Majesty, but, as might have been expected, these fine distinctions were not understood in India, and he was expected to do just as much as he would have done in a more directly official capacity.

Before starting on his tour he thoroughly studied the subject of India and her peoples, and he even made himself acquainted with the peculiarities of every one of the large Indian cities where he would be expected to receive and answer addresses.

The question of the suite was, as may be imagined, very important. It was early decided that Sir Bartle Frere, whose name was familiar to millions of the inhabitants of India, should accompany King Edward, and the Duke of Sutherland was also asked to join the party. Of his private friends, the Earl of Aylesford, Lord (now Earl) Carrington, Colonel (now General) Owen Williams, and Lieutenant (now Admiral) Lord Charles Beresford, also accepted an invitation to be of the party. Then came the official Household, consisting of Lord Suffield; Colonel Ellis, the Prince’s equerry, to whom was confided the delicate question of the giving and receiving of presents; General (now Sir Dighton) Probyn, to whom were left the arrangements for horses, travelling, and shooting parties; and Mr. (now Sir Francis) Knollys, the Prince’s private secretary. Canon Duckworth went as chaplain, and Dr. (now Sir Joseph) Fayrer as medical man. Mr. Albert Grey (now Earl Grey) went as private secretary to Sir Bartle Frere, Mr. S. P. Hall accompanied the party in order to sketch the incidents of the tour, while Lord Alfred Paget was specially commissioned by Queen Victoria to join the suite. Dr. W. H. (now Sir William) Russell, the famous war correspondent, who was temporarily attached to the suite as honorary private secretary, wrote on his return a very interesting account of the tour, entitled “The Prince of Wales’s Tour in India,” which has remained the standard authority on the subject.

On the day that King Edward left Sandringham, amid many demonstrations of goodwill and wishings of God-speed from his country neighbours, he presented his Consort with a team of Corsican ponies and a miniature drag. He spent the last few days of his stay in England with Queen Alexandra and their children at Marlborough House. On the Sunday before his departure they were all present at divine service in Westminster Abbey, and the next day the King went to say good-bye to his old friend Dean Stanley, who, in a letter to an intimate correspondent, gave the following vivid description of the visit:--

“On the Sunday night we had a message to say that the Prince and Princess of Wales would come to take leave of us at 3.30 P.M. the next day. They came about 4 P.M., having been detained by the members of the family coming to Marlborough House.

“They brought all the five children, wishing, the Prince said, to have them all with him as long as possible.

“They all came up, and remained about twenty minutes. Fanny was in the back library, and the children, after being for a few minutes with Augusta, who was delighted to see them, went to her.

“The Prince and Princess remained with Augusta and me. A. talked with all her usual animation. They were both extremely kind. The Princess looked inexpressibly sad. There was nothing much said of interest, chiefly talking of the voyage, etc. As I took him downstairs, he spoke of the dangers--but calmly and rationally, saying that, of course the precautions must be left to those about him. I said to him, ‘I gave you my parting benediction in the Abbey yesterday.’ ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘I saw it. Thank you.’

“Later on in the evening Augusta wished me to telegraph our renewed thanks and renewed good wishes to the _Castalia_ at Dover. I did so, and at 11 P.M. there came back a telegram from him: ‘Many thanks for your kind message. God bless both of you! Just off for Calais!’”

King Edward started from London on 11th October, immense popular interest being taken in the event. Huge crowds assembled long before the departure of the special train from Charing Cross, and the King and Queen Alexandra were wildly cheered. The Queen accompanied her husband as far as Calais, and then the King travelled across the Continent _incognito_, meeting his suite, who had started a few days previously, at Brindisi.

The eventful journey was made in the _Serapis_, one of the old large Indian troopships, and the voyage was very successful from every point of view. The Royal party spent a few days at Athens, where the King was entertained by his brother-in-law, the King of Greece, to whom he had brought a number of gifts from Sandringham, including an Alderney bull and cow, a ram and sheep, several British pigs, and a number of horses.

From the Piræus the _Serapis_ proceeded to Egypt, and King Edward invested Prince Tewfik, the Khedive’s eldest son, with the Order of the Star of India.

As the _Serapis_ steamed onwards the various programmes of the Royal progress through India were submitted to the King, and even the addresses which were to be presented to him were shown and his answers were carefully prepared; in fact, before he left Aden, His Majesty knew with what words the Corporation of Bombay, for instance, would receive him.

As may be easily imagined, all India was by now in a ferment of excitement, and the official world were very much concerned at the immense responsibility placed upon them by the mother-country. Four officers, of whom two had obtained the Victoria Cross, were carefully selected and commissioned to look after the comfort and the safety of the King and of his suite, Major Bradford (afterwards Sir E. R. C. Bradford, Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police) being entrusted with the responsible task of attending to the safety of the Royal visitor’s own person.

The question as to how King Edward was to make his first appearance in Bombay was keenly discussed, and at one time it was thought that splendidly caparisoned elephants would form the most fitting mode of transport from the landing-stage to Government House, but finally the party went in carriages. Among the cargo of the _Serapis_ were three valuable horses, specially chosen from the Marlborough House stables, which had been regularly taken to the Zoo, in order to be accustomed to the sight of the wild beasts and reptiles which they were likely to meet with in India.

At last it was noised abroad that the _Serapis_ had been sighted, and the Viceroy, Lord Northbrook (afterwards Earl of Northbrook), went out to meet King Edward, returning to Bombay in order to receive him on landing. There was a good deal of discreet curiosity as to which of them would give precedence to the other, for of course the Viceroy represents Her Majesty, and so was entitled to take precedence, but Lord Northbrook, with considerable tact, unobtrusively gave his Royal guest the first place.

The moment the King emerged from the dockyard a salute was fired, and at every station in India, whether important or obscure, the signal was given by telegraph for a Royal salute wherever there were guns to fire it.

While actually in Bombay King Edward and his suite became the guests of the Governor, Sir Philip Woodhouse, and it was there that two days after his arrival in India the King celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday, the first object which met his eyes in the morning being a charming portrait of Queen Alexandra, who had specially entrusted it to Sir Bartle Frere. On this eventful day the glories and the fatigues of the King’s Indian tour may be said to have begun.

The Royal birthday was duly honoured all over Hindustan at noon, and although the heat, even at 8 A.M., had been very considerable, the King was compelled to hold a great reception in full dress, that is to say, in a uniform of English cloth loaded with lace and buttoned up to the throat. The scene was very impressive. The King during the reception was seated on a silver throne, and everything was done to invest the affair with the greatest pomp and circumstance. His suite all stood round him in full uniform; behind the throne was a portrait of Queen Victoria; and although the King was not supposed to hold durbars, the ceremony being simply styled a private visit or reception, it was in every way as impressive and remarkable as if it had carried full official significance.

An immense number of native Princes and Rajahs paid their respects in person to their future Sovereign. The first potentate to be presented was the Rajah of Kholapur, a child of twelve years old, the ruler of nearly a million people. The little Rajah was attired in purple velvet and white muslin encrusted with gems, his turban containing a King’s ransom of pearls and rubies. In spite of his extreme youth the Indian Prince remained perfectly serious, and went through the somewhat complicated ceremonies with absolute self-possession.

After the last Rajah had departed, King Edward had a long talk with the Viceroy, and then made his way to the _Serapis_, where he had the pleasure of seeing the crew enjoying the birthday dinner provided by himself. He also cut a birthday cake, and looked over the telegrams just received from Sandringham. That same evening was held a great reception, to which naturally the British officials and residents came in great force.

The next few days were also equally well filled. King Edward had to pay elaborate return visits to the chiefs and Rajahs who had attended his reception, and it was then that he was enabled to show his tact and the extraordinary knowledge he had acquired of their complicated ranks and genealogies; indeed, he greatly pleased several important Rajahs by showing that he had heard of the antiquity of their families, and by graciously alluding to the gallant deeds of their ancestors. The British people of Bombay had organised a great dinner for the sailors of the fleet, and, much to their gratification, the King consented to attend the banquet. Not content with a mere formal glance at the proceedings, he mounted a plank, and with a glass in his hand, exclaimed to the delighted men, of whom there were over two thousand present, “My lads, I am glad to meet you all. I drink your good health, and a happy voyage home.”

King Edward took the opportunity of laying the foundation-stone of the Elphinstone Docks, the ceremony being carried out with Masonic honours, and it was considered very interesting and significant that among members of the craft present were Parsees, Mahomedans, and Hindus.

During the month of November the King visited Poona, where he held a review, and visited the Court of the Gaikwar of Baroda. There a fine elephant was prepared for his use. The animal was of extraordinary size, and the howdah on which the King rode was said to have cost four lakhs of rupees. He held a reception at the Residency, and had his first sight of Indian sport, for he attended a cheetah hunt, himself killing a fine buck, and much enjoying his day’s sport. About the same time he also joined a pig-sticking expedition, a very popular Indian sport, and at last, to his great satisfaction, had the opportunity of “getting his spear,” in other words, of killing a wild boar.

Then, returning to Bombay, the Royal party once more took up their quarters on the _Serapis_, where the King spent Queen Alexandra’s birthday. From Bombay he found time to visit the Portuguese settlement of Goa, and thence went on to Ceylon, where he inspected a tea plantation, and where the peepul planted by him in commemoration of his visit is still proudly shown to the ubiquitous globe-trotter.

At Madras the King had a splendid reception, spending, however, 14th December, the anniversary of his father’s death, in retirement at Guindy Park, the country seat of the Governor, eight miles from the city.

Christmas Day was spent in Calcutta, where an immense programme was gone through, including a considerable number of public ceremonies, the holding of audiences, and last, but not least, a _levée_, at which both natives and Europeans were present. After the King and the Viceroy had attended divine service in the Cathedral, His Majesty entertained a large party at lunch in the _Serapis_. His health was drunk with Highland honours, and many messages were exchanged between himself and “home.” On the afternoon of the same day the Royal party drove out to the Viceregal Lodge at Barrackpur.

The most important ceremony attended by King Edward in India, namely, a Chapter of the Order of the Star of India, at which he acted as High Commissioner for his Royal mother, was held on New Year’s Day 1876. His Majesty wore a field-marshal’s uniform, almost concealed beneath the folds of his sky-blue satin mantle, the train of which was carried by two naval cadets, who wore cocked hats over their powdered wigs, blue satin cloaks, trunk hose, and shoes with rosettes. The Chapter tent was carpeted with cloth of gold with the Royal Arms emblazoned in the centre. An immense number of the Companions of the Order attended, forming a most impressive procession, walking two and two, one half native and the other European. The Begum of Bhopal, the first Knight Grand Commander, had a procession all to herself. She was veiled and swathed in brocades and silks, over which was folded the light blue satin robe of the Order.

The King took his seat on the daïs, and after the roll of the Order had been read, each member standing up as his name was called, the Chapter was declared open, and His Majesty directed the investiture to proceed. Never had such a gathering been seen in India. Among those present were Lord Napier of Magdala, “Political” Maitland, the Maharajah of Kashmir, and the Rajah of Patiala, who wore the great Sancy diamond in his turban.

As each investiture took place, seventeen guns were fired, and the secretary proclaimed aloud the titles of the newly-made Knight Grand Commander or Companion as the case might be. The pageant was incomparably splendid, the close of the ceremony being quite as fine as the beginning, for the Knights Grand Cross, the Knights Grand Commanders, and the Companions all formed once more in a procession in the reverse order of their entry.

At the close of the King’s visit to Calcutta he began his journeys by rail. At Benares he visited the famous Temples, and the Golden Pool, going from thence by steamer to the old port of Rammagar, where he and his suite were splendidly received by the Maharajah, who presented him with some very costly shawls and brocades, together with what is to an Indian the very highest proof of regard, namely his own walking-stick, a thick staff mounted with gold.

At Lucknow the King laid the foundation-stone of a memorial to the natives who fell in the defence of the Residency. On this occasion he took the opportunity of paying a well-deserved tribute to the faithful soldiers of the native army. Some of the veterans were presented to him, and they were not allowed to be hurried by, ragged, squalid, or unclean; indeed, His Majesty insisted on exchanging a few words with several of them.

While at Lucknow he took part in a pig-sticking expedition, at which Lord Carrington’s left collar-bone was broken, and curiously enough, Lord Napier of Magdala met with a precisely similar accident on the same day.

From Delhi the King proceeded to Cawnpore, a spot he had been extremely anxious to visit, in common with many less illustrious tourists. His Majesty, after a drive to the site of the old cantonments, where the heroic defence took place, made his way to the Memorial Church, where he stopped close to the gateway which no native may pass through. There he alighted, and, with signs of deep emotion, walked to the spot which marks the place of the fatal well. There was deep silence as he read aloud in a low voice the touching words, “To the memory of a great company of Christian people, principally women and children, who were cruelly slaughtered here.”

On returning to Delhi the King held a _levée_, attended by hundreds of British officers, at the close of which several notabilities of the native army were presented. The next day a great review was held, Lord Napier of Magdala entertaining His Majesty at his own camp. Delhi was illuminated, and no trouble was spared in showing what was once the capital city of India to the Royal visitor.

Some interesting hours were spent at Agra, where the King went to see the Taj illuminated, the beautiful marble “Queen of Sorrow” erected by the Shah Jehan in memory of his much-loved wife, Moomtaz i Mahul, who died at the birth of her eighth child. The King was so greatly charmed with the beauty of the Taj, lit up by myriad lights, that he would not return to the city till nearly midnight. All through the journeys and expeditions which immediately followed, His Majesty could not forget what he had seen, and before finally leaving the district he paid one more visit to the famous tomb, seeing it this time not illuminated, but by the beautiful full Indian moonlight.

The King shot his first tiger on 5th February in the neighbourhood of Jeypur, but it was by no means the last, for it is recorded that he shot six tigers in one day when hunting in Nepaul with Sir Jung Bahadur. Then he returned through Lucknow, Cawnpore, and Allahabad. At Jubbulpur His Majesty went through the prison, and had some talk with seven Thugs who had been thirty-five years in confinement, and whose life in the first instance had only been spared because they had turned Queen’s evidence. The King questioned them as to their hideous trade, and one man, a villainous-looking individual, answered proudly, in reply to the question as to how many people he had murdered, “Sixty-seven.”

King Edward and his suite left Bombay for home on 13th March, just seventeen weeks after the _Serapis_ had first dropped anchor in Bombay harbour. During those four months he had travelled close on 8000 miles by land and 2500 miles by sea, and during that time he had become acquainted with more Rajahs than had all the Viceroys who had ever reigned over India, and he had seen more of the country than had any living Englishman.

The intelligence that Queen Victoria was about to assume the title of Empress of India had become known before the _Serapis_ left Bombay, and caused her son great gratification. Curiously enough, the King met Lord Lytton, who was on his way out to Hindustan to succeed Lord Northbrook as Viceroy, when the _Serapis_ was going through the Suez Canal.

The Royal party spent five days in Egypt. By 6th April Malta was in sight, and the King was received there with great enthusiasm, as was also the case at Gibraltar, where he had the pleasure of meeting his brother, the Duke of Connaught. From there the _Serapis_ proceeded by easy stages round Spain, the King taking the opportunity of visiting Seville, Cordova, Madrid, the Escurial, Lisbon, and Cintra. At Madrid King Alfonso came to meet the King at the station, and they drove together to the Palace, going from there to Toledo in order that the Royal visitor might inspect the famous manufactory of Toledo blades.

As the _Serapis_ anchored near Yarmouth the King was informed that Queen Alexandra and the Royal children had come to meet him on board the _Enchantress_. He immediately went on board their ship, bringing Her Majesty and their children back with him a little later on board the _Serapis_.

It need hardly be pointed out that King Edward received a very remarkable number of gifts during his tour in India. The cost of a gift made to him by a native Prince was supposed to be strictly limited to £2000 in value, but in many cases this restriction was evaded by the present being priced at a nominal sum, the real value being anything from £5000 to £30,000. As an actual fact the splendid collection brought home by His Majesty, which is his own personal property, is said to be worth half a million sterling.

Some time after his return home the King kindly allowed his Indian gifts to be exhibited to the public. They were afterwards distributed between Marlborough House and Sandringham, a considerable portion of them finding a resting-place in the Indian room of Marlborough House. There also were carefully stored away in solid silver cylinders all the addresses received by the King during his eventful Indian tour.

King Edward, who takes the very keenest interest in live animals, brought back quite a menagerie with him from India, and the quarters in the _Serapis_ assigned to his pets was for the time being a veritable Zoo, for there were tigers, elephants, ostriches, leopards, birds, ponies, cattle, monkeys, dogs and horses, some of which spent a peaceful old age at Sandringham.

There can be no doubt that from a political point of view the tour was a great success, doing much indirectly to consolidate the British power in India. It is also a curious commentary on the objections raised by the economy party to the visit that no less a sum than £250,000 was spent in London alone by native Princes in buying presents for His Majesty.

The principal incident of the voyage home had been a farewell dinner given by the officers of the _Serapis_ to the King and his suite when the vessel was nearing harbour.

The table was laid for forty on the main deck (called the Windsor Long Walk), which was decorated with flags, trophies of arms, and ornaments. After Queen Victoria had been duly honoured, Captain Glyn proposed King Edward’s health, and begged him to accept an album as a keepsake from himself and his officers. It contained, besides a large photograph of every officer, photographed groups of the men and the Guard of Honour, views of different parts of the ship, and photographs of a few favourite animals.

The real popularity of the King’s visit to India was significantly proved by the popular demonstrations which awaited him on his return. Enthusiastic greetings of welcome hailed him in the evening both at Victoria Station and in his drive round by Grosvenor Place, Piccadilly, and St. James’s Street to meet the Queen at Buckingham Palace. The appearance of the King and Queen at the Royal Italian Opera in the evening, within two hours of their reaching home, was a particularly graceful act of consideration. Nothing could surpass the enthusiasm with which they were greeted when they were seen in the Royal box.

During the days that followed, their Majesties received congratulatory visits from all the members of the Royal Family then in England, and from many distinguished personages. On the Sunday after his return, King Edward, accompanied by his Consort, the Duke of Edinburgh, and the Duke of Connaught, attended divine service at Westminster Abbey in the afternoon, when special thanksgivings were offered up for His Majesty’s safe return from India.

Soon afterwards the King was entertained at a banquet and ball given by the Corporation of the City of London at the Guildhall. The temporary building erected for this brilliant assembly, to which over five thousand were invited, occupied the whole of Guildhall Yard. The reception hall was on the basement floor, the ballroom being built above it, and was beautifully decorated and draped with Oriental hangings. A daïs had been erected for their Majesties; and the scene is described as a combination of quaintly mediæval magnificence with modern luxury and elegance. The reception ceremony took place in the new library of the Guildhall, where an address of welcome, in a golden casket of Indian design, was presented to the King by the Lord Mayor. His Majesty, in a brief reply, said that it was his highest reward and his greatest pride to have received from the citizens of London and his countrymen such a welcome at the termination of a visit which had been undertaken with the view to strengthening the ties that bound India to our common country. The invitation tickets for this brilliant function were both beautiful and appropriate, the Star of India and the Taj Mahal at Agra figuring prominently in the design.

Among the other entertainments given in honour of the King’s return may be mentioned a concert at the Albert Hall. King Edward and Queen Alexandra on their arrival were received by a Guard of Honour of 120 bluejackets from the _Serapis_, the _Raleigh_, and the _Osborne_, under the command of Captain Carr Glyn, and in the vestibule were all the Council of the Albert Hall, wearing the Windsor uniform. At their head was the Duke of Edinburgh in naval uniform. The vast hall was crowded with a distinguished audience.