Hawaii's Story by Hawaii's Queen/Chapter 25
CHAPTER XXV
THE JUBILEE—AT THE ABBEY—AT THE PALACE
On the following, or great day of the Jubilee, we were to be present in the morning at the historic church of Westminster Abbey; and the hour of half-past ten had been appointed for General Dominis and Colonel Boyd to take their positions there. Our party, consisting of the members of royal families, left at eleven o’clock, the procession being led by the Japanese Prince; then followed the Prince of Persia, the Prince of Siam, and then the Indian Prince.
Succeeding these came the Queen of the Hawaiian Islands with myself, and to us was accorded the most unusual honor of an escort drawn from the Life Guards of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. This was scarcely expected, but we were told that it had been especially granted to the Queen and Crown Princess of Hawaii. When we spoke of the high appreciation we felt of this and all the attentions we had received, we were assured in response, that, as we had come such a long distance to do honor to the occasion, Her Majesty had thought that the least she could do was to provide for us special honors. We were given one of the queen’s own carriages, with horses and drivers, during our stay in London. Our drive to Westminster Abbey was a short one. We passed through crowds and crowds of people, both sides of the street being thronged, but there was perfect order; besides which, the Life Guardsmen were on each side of our carriages. Detachments from the British navy, and members of the metropolitan police, were stationed at every point. But it was a happy, good-natured crowd (eleven millions, so I heard it estimated), assembled in the great city of London to congratulate the sovereign on her semi-centennial anniversary. As we passed from the Alexandra to the beautiful Abbey, cheering could be heard on every side; the fronts of the houses were a living mass of humanity. Benches were placed along their fronts, on which the people stood or sat, and every party that passed received enthusiastic salutations.
On reaching the doors of the Abbey, our party was met by Lord Lathom and Sir Henry Ponsonby, as representatives of Queen Victoria; and by them we were conducted to the seats reserved for our use. Colonel Iaukea and Hon. Mr. Synge disappeared at once as though swallowed up in the vast crowd which had been gathering in the place since the early hours of the morning. As the people arrived, they were arranged by the ushers in charge according to their rank. As delegation after delegation came in, each was quietly and properly assigned to its appropriate station.
In the centre of the great edifice, there was a raised platform, or dais, to which we were conducted. Soon after us a most prominent party arrived, and were also seated on the dais. We found them to be the kings, queens, princes, and princesses from several of the European countries. There was a little lady who made her appearance accompanied by her husband, who was blind; she seated him on a bench back of that we occupied; then she proceeded to adjust his necktie, she pulled down his coat and smoothed it out, and arranged other parts of his uniform to suit her own taste. Finally, when his appearance seemed to her satisfactory, she left him, and coming towards us took a seat directly between Queeen Kapiolani and myself. This lady was none other than the Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, whose royal cousin, Queen Victoria, was celebrating the Jubilee of the day. On the left of my sister-in-law sat the Queen of the Belgians.
While we were awaiting the opening ceremonies, the grand duchess turned to me and said, “Parlez vous Français?” Upon my response in the negative, she addressed to me a similar question, only this time asking if I spoke English; to which I replied, “Yes, a little.” Then, much to my amusement, she motioned to the princesses opposite to us that her companion understood English, and we were very soon in a most agreeable and animated conversation on the topics of the day. Soon the band began the grand and solemn strains of “God Save the Queen,” and all but a few arose under the impression that it announced the entrance of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. The little duchess inquired of me why I was rising, and without awaiting a reply volunteered the information, that the anthem was probably in honor of the arrival of some members of the royal family. And this proved to be the fact; for almost immediately there appeared a company of ladies, these being the daughters, granddaughters, and daughters-in-law of Queen Victoria. They advanced, and took their seats on the left side of the dais.
Their entrance was followed by another blast from the bugles and a further measure of the national anthem, to which there responded a company of the sons and grandsons of the reigning sovereign, led by His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. These took their seats on the right of the dais, and thus we were surrounded by the royal household. After all was tranquil, there followed a final flourish of the trumpets; and for the third time the band gave us “God Save the Queen,” and at this salutation there appeared Her Majesty Queen Victoria, preceded by the Archbishop of Canterbury and four other bishops. Slowly they proceeded to the stations which had been reserved for them, in the centre of the great church at the end farthest from the people, but quite near to where I sat, so that I could watch them to my perfect satisfaction.
Queen Victoria ascended the dais, and advanced to her seat at its very centre, where there was a plain-looking, old-fashioned armchair, said to have once belonged to St. Peter himself. She stood at a spot just opposite to this seat. All the rest of us had risen, and remained standing during her approach. Before seating herself, she made a little courtesy, which salutation was returned by all those who had awaited her coming from the opposite dais or platform. She was simply attired in a neat, black dress, wearing a bonnet very small and unobtrusive, while about her neck she wore a handsome necklace composed of single stone diamonds.
After she was in her seat, and the rest of us had followed her example, the religious services were begun, and most impressive they seemed.
The Archbishop of Canterbury opened the ceremony with prayer. Then followed the Te Deum; and the music must have had an especial charm of tender regret for the queen, for it was the composition of the Prince Consort, her deceased husband. Thus the grand pageant of religious worship proceeded; and while uprose the prayers of the vast assembly, invoking the blessing of the Almighty upon the head of the great British Empire, a gleam of God's sunshine penetrated through one of the windows, and finding its way from the casement across the grand temple, illuminated with its radiance the bowed head of the royal worshipper. It was a beautiful emblem of divine favor, and reminded me of the coincidence of which mention has been made that occurred at the moment of the coronation of my brother in Hawaii.
The inspiring anthems, as they were so grandly and harmoniously rendered by the great choir, lifted all hearts up to the Ruler of the Universe, and the solemn tones of the great organ hushed every thought inconsistent with the devout worship of the occasion. When this part of the ceremony came to a close, Her Gracious Majesty received the homage of her daughters and granddaughters, tenderly kissing each one in turn. They responded by a respectful kiss on the royal hand. The sons and grandsons next went through a similar manifestation of affection and respect, after which the procession began to form for leaving the Abbey. Its order in departing was exactly the reverse of that at the entrance, those preceding who had been last to arrive; finally, the last of the lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses, kings and queens, were out of doors and on the way back to Buckingham Palace. The crowds had never left the streets and sidewalks, but had remained in position so as to get another view as we passed along. The sea of heads on both sides of the royal party had not diminished perceptibly by so much as one individual, the gay decorations were all in place, and flags and streamers floated from every point. Never could there have been a day when London was more lavish of its holiday attire.
When we arrived at Buckingham Palace, I was waited on by the Duke of Edinburgh, whilst Queen Kapiolani was under the escort of the heir to the British throne, the Prince of Wales. In the banquet hall was a long table through the centre, which took up the entire length of the room; this was assigned exclusively to the visiting kings and queens from every part of the world, many of whom had travelled long distances to be present at this Jubilee, Two smaller tables were attached at each end of the long one, and these were set apart for the princes and princesses who were also the guests of the nation. To one of these tables, and towards its centre, my escort, H. R. H. Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, and now of Saxe-Coburg, conducted me, and gave me a seat; on my right was the present Emperor of Germany, who proved to be a most sociable neighbor, and an agreeable conversationalist, so that we kept up quite an animated flow of words. Truthfully speaking, I think the Duke of Edinburgh was not quite easy in his mind. He was the Lord High Admiral, and was naturally thinking of the long line of officers and men which had been drawn up to do honor to the royal visitors, and who could only be relieved from guard duty by his order. He excused himself to us a few minutes, probably to give some preliminary command to this effect, but soon returned, and still appeared as though he were anxious that the lunch and its ceremonies should be over. I suppose it was the natural uneasiness of the sailor, and a sense of the responsibility he felt for the comfort, and release from duty, of those under his authority.
During the course of the lunch, Prince William of Prussia asked me if I recognized a gentleman sitting opposite to us. I responded that I thought I did, and went on to say, that, to my remembrance it was Prince Henry of Prussia. He said that I was correct, and complimented me warmly on my strength of memory. This was the same prince who had once visited our Islands many years before this date, and whose delightful visit was unexpectedly shortened by the death of his brother Waldemar.
The naval forces were drawn up in a line a short distance from the palace, and as soon as possible after the repast they received the thanks of their royal commander; the officers and the men were assured of the queen’s appreciation of their loyalty and devotion, and then all were permitted to retire, each body to its own vessel, I am confident that not a man there was more relieved at the change than the sailor-prince himself, who then became more animated, and more like the duke of whom I had such delightful reminiscences when he visited me in Hawaii,—as I have said in a previous chapter of these memoirs.
From the banquet hall Her Majesty, followed by her royal guests, adjourned to a larger room in the palace, commanding a fine view of the streets and squares about us. Here from the windows we watched the marines and the naval forces as they filed past on their way back to the ships from whence they had come. They were a superb body of men, of whom their royal commander, and indeed all England, might well be proud.
After they had marched away, we were shown into a side room where were displayed the presents which had been sent to the queen in recognition of this her jubilee year. They were too many and too varied for me to attempt anything like an enumeration; yet there were one or two pieces which I will mention. Hawaii had sent a unique frame placed on an easel, in the centre of which was an embroidered piece, with the letters "V. R." worked in the rare royal feathers, while the frame itself was studded with diamonds. Then there was a very perfect representation of St. George and the Dragon in the traditional form, but wrought of gold. This had been presented by the Crown Prince of Prussia, husband of the Princess Royal of England, the daughter of Queen Victoria, who was soon after this epoch left a widow by her husband’s untimely death. At present she is the Dowager Empress of Germany. I now learn that her afflictions have been increased by a loss tained in the recent conflagration at the Paris charitable bazaar, a calamity which put more than one household in Europe of royal connections into deepest mourning. After spending some time with us in the examination of her presents, Her Majesty Victoria retired. This was the signal for us to do likewise, so one by one we withdrew to our respective hotels.
As we drove homeward, and passed over the route by which we had come, scarcely a man or woman of all that vast crowd which had congregated there so recently was to be seen; the avenues of travel seemed to have been deserted. Yet the throng had dispersed in so orderly a manner that there had been no confusion, and no accidents were ever reported to mar the joy of the Jubilee.