him from Grenada, landed at Castries at noon, where he was received by
Colonel Davidson-Houston, Administrator of St. Lucia, supported by Mr.
Anthony de Freitas, Chief Justice, and other members of the Executive
Council. St. Lucia's special arch was of coal, token of the colony's
importance as a West Indian coaling-station. From under it His Royal
Highness proceeded through decorated streets, the entire population of
which had assembled to welcome him. The first stopping-place was in
Columbus Square. Here, in the warm shade of big coco-nut palms and mango
trees, a thousand children were drawn up, each school flanked by
teachers, many of whom wore the black cassock of the Catholic Church.
The Prince afterwards climbed a hill overlooking the town, and wandered
through the deserted barracks of historic fort Charlotte, where his
great-great-grandfather, the Duke of Kent, father of Queen Victoria,
hoisted the British flag in 1797, after the capture of the island by
forces under Sir Charles Grey and Sir John Jervis. Here, standing amidst
luxuriant tropical vegetation, he looked northward to the rocky Vigie
promontory, on which he could descry lines occupied by Sir William
Medow's thirteen hundred British, who in 1778 hurled back invading
enemies twelve thousand strong. Westward he looked over the muddy
Cul-de-sac Bay, where Sir Samuel Barrington, in the same year, fought a
desperate engagement with the French fleet under Count Destaing.
Eastward also the scene was full of historic interest, for here, beyond
the red roofs of Castries city, was visible a distant palm-shaded beach,
where Moore and Abercromby effected their landing in 1796.
Descending the steep grassy Morne, the Prince afterwards attended a
popular reception at Government House, and thence went back to the
_Renown_.
The still hot dawn of the following day found the ship passing the green
hills of the island of Martinique, birthplace of the Empress Josephine,
also the bare sea-girt Diamond Rock off its coast, where, a hundred
years ago, for eighteen lurid months, gallant Lieutenant Maurice and a
hundred and twenty men with five guns from H.M.S. _Centaur_ beat off
attack and themselves threatened all approach to the important harbour
of the enemy in Fort-de-France. Here also, towering into the clouds,
were visible the dim slopes of Mount Pelee, the eruption of which,
eighteen years before, had brought death in a few hours to forty
thousand people.
Thereafter, through summer seas, crossing the place of the decisive
battle of the Saints, the _Renown_ pushed on, anchoring before noon off
the pleasant town of Roseau, capital of Dominica Island, and
head-quarters of the lime-juice industry of the world. As she neared the
shore, the ship was met by the sound of cheerful bells, reflected out to
sea from church towers backing upon green hills that rose into peaks,
extending tier beyond tier in the interior, in such tumbled form that
Columbus, describing it to his Queen, compared the island to a fistful
of crumpled paper. Here the light cruisers _Calcutta_ and _Cambrian_
joined the _Renown_, the three vessels making a fine show as they lay
together, decked with bunting, in the brilliant sunshine of the
roadstead.
The Prince landed at a decorated pier jutting out into the harbour. He
was welcomed by Sir Edward Merewether, Governor of the Leeward Islands,
Mr. Robert Walter, a descendant of the founder of "The Times,"
Administrator of Dominica, Dr. Nichols, Senior Member of the Senate, and
other leading residents. A guard-of-honour of the local defence force
was in attendance, and a crowd of gaily-dressed West Indians. A little
group of yellow Malay-faced Caribs, representing the survivors of these
now nearly extinct aborigines, stood on one side. Their chief, an old
man in top-hat and black coat, was one of those with whom the Prince
shook hands. The scene as the Prince proceeded inland from the wharf,
with cheering West Indians racing alongside his car, was one of much
quaint excitement and enthusiasm. He was taken in procession through
decorated streets, masses of coloured Dominicans and their womenfolk
clapping, shouting and laughing as he passed. "Than' God I not die las'
week," was one pious cry, to the accompaniment of the widest grin.
Some beautiful botanical gardens, containing big trees, all grown in the
space of twenty-seven years, were inspected, and a visit paid to
Government House, which stands in pleasant, shady grounds. The Prince
re-embarked in the _Renown_ at sunset.
Unlike most of the other West Indian islands, which did well out of
sugar during the war, Dominica, when the Prince visited it, was
recovering only slowly from war depression which had hit its previously
flourishing lime industry hard. This very depression, however, had
increased the available openings for newcomers, good land offering at
very reasonable rates. As the result, we were told, increasing numbers
of returned men were settling there, with bright hopes of making good
amongst beautiful surroundings and in a climate which is one of
perpetual summer.
At Monserrat, a small island with open, cultivated fields contrasting
with the dense tropical jungle of Dominica, the Prince was received by
Mr. Condell, the Commissioner, and other leading inhabitants of the
colony, which is prospering in the good prices at present offering for
its sea-island cotton. Boiling sulphur springs, in a vast rocky cauldron
of steam, upon a mountain-side covered with aromatic cinnamon gardens
and flourishing fields of sea-cotton and potatoes, were things to see if
not to smell. The Prince was cheered by crowds of coloured folk, who, in
their broken English, still retain distinct traces of a brogue inherited
from one side of an ancestry which dates back to 1664, when Irish
immigrants were taken to the island by Sir Thomas Warner. It was a
quaint mixture.
The _Renown_ put out to sea in still murky weather, with a yellow ring
round the moon, signs significant to all sailor eyes, and not rendered
more cheerful by the knowledge that a wireless message had reached the
ship, reporting one hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico and another off the
coast of Texas.
The _Renown_ slipped through a smooth sea, however, to Antigua,
completely escaping bad weather. Antigua proved to be another open
island, not unlike Monserrat. The ship anchored five miles at sea off
St. John's, a small sheltered harbour in which, three centuries ago,
Prince Rupert successfully attacked two of Cromwell's ships. Here a
number of wooden fishing boats, of half a dozen different nationalities,
formed a lane of many-coloured bunting through which the Prince's
picket-boat was conducted to a decorated wharf.
Sir Edward Merewether, Governor of the Leeward Islands, who had come on
in the _Renown_, Mr. Johnston, Colonial Secretary, Mr. Griffith,
Colonial Treasurer, Very Rev. Shepherd, Dean of Antigua, and members of
the local Executive and Legislative Councils welcomed the Prince at the
landing-stage. Thereafter, through decorated streets of dazzling white
wooden houses, reflecting back the tropical sun, and alive with cheering
coloured folk, the Prince went in procession to the old colonial
Court-House. Here, in the presence of an assemblage of the leading
citizens and their families, an address of welcome was read by Mr.
Griffin, Chief Justice of Antigua.
The Prince replying, referred to Nelson's having refitted his ships in
this island before the Trafalgar campaign. He once again testified that
his own travels had been a wonderful experience and that he hoped to
have many opportunities of repeating and extending them in the future.
A pretty function followed on the breezy cricket ground, where a
surprisingly large gathering of white school-children, besides masses of
coloured mites, cheered the Prince enthusiastically. A state luncheon
was afterwards given by the Governor, followed by a popular reception in
Government House Grounds. The _Renown_ then sailed for the Bermudas, and
the Royal visit to the West Indies, during which the Prince's cheery
presence had produced the happiest impression, was over. The pleasure of
the Europeans at seeing him in their isolated corner of the globe was
almost pathetic. For those of West Indian blood the occasion was also a
memorable one. It certainly revived feelings of solidarity with Great
Britain which have sometimes been strained by that preaching of
race-prejudice from which no people situated as these are can ever be
completely exempt, be the white administration never so tactful.
Never, perhaps, has there been greater occasion for tact, as well as
strength and sympathy, in the political guidance of the Islands than
exists to-day. At the moment the West Indians are exceedingly prosperous
on the whole, owing to the phenomenal war-prices their sugar, cotton and
other produce have been fetching in the markets of the world. But the
quarter of century or so of lean years that preceded the last half-dozen
fat ones, have limited their outlook and retarded their development in
all directions. They have become isolated. They lie between two worlds,
with a tendency to take their ideas from their neighbour the United
States rather than from the distant Mother Country or from Canada.
The only public information of any interest reaching them by cable of
happenings throughout the world is supplied through New York. American
capital is displacing British for the development of their mineral and
other resources. Their agricultural produce tends more and more to find
its way to the United States. Their visitors from Great Britain and the
Dominions are few compared with those arriving from America; yet that
this state of things can be changed is proved by the partial revival in
relations with the British Empire that has followed the conclusion of
the recent admirable West-Indian-Canadian Agreement.
This agreement, however, is only one step in the right direction, and
requires to be followed by many more. Direct steamers and direct cable
communication with Great Britain are specially needed. The growing
demand of the West Indian population for progress towards
self-government, within the Empire, is also a matter of which the
importance cannot be too strongly emphasized, though self-government
cannot be realized without local readiness to face additional taxation
and expenditure.
The splendid colonial Civil Service, sent out from London, has governed
the British West Indies faithfully and well for many years, despite
inadequate remuneration, and often discouraging deficiency in
recognition from public opinion at home; but the day when rectitude in
administration and efficiency in maintaining security and justice were
sufficient by themselves to satisfy the imagination of a coloured people
is passing away. The time is coming for new developments, in the
interests alike of the West Indies and of the Empire as a whole.
The direction these developments must take is indicated by the nature of
the situation that stands so plainly in view. Its evolution upon
practical lines, in relation to the all-important question of the
raising of funds necessary to pay for direct steamers and cable services
and the attraction of settlers and capital from the British Empire, is a
matter that, though difficult, is no longer impossible as in the past,
for the reason that the recent growth in material prosperity in the
islands has removed the bar hitherto existing to proposals for new
taxation. In all consideration of the matter, of course, the fact has to
be envisaged that the post-war conditions, which are affecting the
world as a whole, are potent also in the British West Indies, and that
no policy which does not take them into account can remain at all
permanently in force in these important islands.
The position of the negro population in the United States necessarily
reacts upon that of the corresponding people under British rule.
Propaganda is undoubtedly passing from negro organs in the Republic to
all the British islands. This propaganda takes into consideration the
political conditions in Cuba and Puertorico, which differ
constitutionally from those obtaining in the British West Indian
colonies. It has also to be remembered that the constitutions of the
various individual British islands differ amongst themselves, and that
the formulation of a uniform policy for their development may reasonably
be looked for in the near future. Such a policy must recognize the
interests of the labouring classes as well as of the old planter
families. It would seem, at present, that the Governments have some
difficulty in reconciling these two points of view, towards which they
have equal responsibilities.
XXV
THE BERMUDAS
The picturesque islands of Bermuda, in the North Atlantic, the last
halting-place upon the Prince's tour, put up a brave show in honour of
the Royal visitor. The _Renown_ anchored at daylight on 1st October in
the open sea off what is known as "Five Fathom Hole," where the cobalt
of the deeper sea shaded into greenish patches above treacherous coral
reefs. Through tortuous channels the _Calcutta_, to which the Prince had
transhipped, felt her way, skirting on her left a prominent rock
celebrated as the "Ducking Stool," testing-spot of seventeenth-century
witches and place of punishment of scolds, where a battery of artillery
fired a salute. A little inland of the Ducking Stool a green hummock
rose, topped by Government House. Admiralty House also stood out
pre-eminent amongst smaller villas. On the right, as the _Calcutta_
passed on, curved a long sickle-shaped arm of rock forming the other
side of the harbour, and terminating in the white sheds and
fortifications of the naval dockyard. In the middle were tiny rocky
islets between which the _Calcutta_ steered with margin only of a few
feet on either side. Upon the way the U.S.A. battleship _Kansas_, under
Rear-Admiral Hughes, a vessel sent to Bermuda by the United States
Government in honour of the Prince's visit, fired a welcoming salute.
Coral-rock houses are a characteristic feature of Bermuda. They are
built of squared blocks sawn out of the hillside, and have sloping roofs
of similar stone rendered watertight with cement. One finds them
everywhere. In the country their grey walls and roofs are surrounded by
wildernesses of brilliant flowers, including purple bougainvilleas, the
aptly named "flamboyants," and pink oleanders, with smooth lawns,
terraced vineyards, and overgrown vegetable gardens sheltered by sombre
conifers. In the city one finds sky-scraper hotels and substantial
offices, workshops of Bermuda's principal industry, which is that of
catering for the American tourist, who flies to this sunny spot to
escape the New York winter, and dine where he may still drink.
The Prince's visit took place in the off-season of hot weather when the
principal hotels are closed. The entire city had nevertheless been
decorated, and a large proportion of the twenty thousand inhabitants the
islands boast, assembled along the Club Wharf in Hamilton City, where
the landing took place. They consisted, for the most part, of cheerful
negroes and coloured folk, with a considerable proportion of
well-dressed whites, including many Americans. A guard-of-honour of the
Royal Sussex Regiment, in familiar khaki, stood to attention on the
landing-stage, rifle-barrels gleaming in the fierce sun. Here also
waited Sir James Willcocks in white uniform ablaze with war medals, also
Admirals Hughes and Everett and their staffs, and the principal civilian
officials in the perspiring black morning dress of more temperate zones.
The Prince and his staff landed unostentatiously in white naval kit
from a brass-funnelled steam picket-boat. The usual procession of
carriages was formed, after the reception formalities, each drawn by a
fine pair of horses, and the Prince was taken through decorated streets
to the House of Assembly, where he inspected a guard-of-honour composed
of seamen from H.M.S. _Calcutta_. Within were assembled members of the
Executive and Legislative Councils and other leading residents and their
families, in the garb with which civilized ceremony defies temperatures
the world over.
The Governor read an address of welcome, in the course of which he
reminded the Prince of their having met in France, where he, Sir James,
was in command of the Indian Army Corps. The Prince, in the course of
his reply, referred to the celebration of the tercentenary of the
establishment of representative institutions in Bermuda, then taking
place in the island, having been postponed for a month to coincide with
his own visit. He also acknowledged the courtesy of the United States
Government in sending the U.S.S. _Kansas_ to meet him. In conclusion he
touched upon the impressions left upon himself by his tour and its
lesson of the unity, strength and devotion which bind all parts of His
Majesty's dominions to British ideals.
Later on in the garden of the public buildings the Prince laid the
foundation-stone of a war-memorial, the Bermuda Volunteer Rifle Corps
and Militia artillery furnishing guards-of-honour, and relatives of
fallen men being presented.
On the following day the Prince inspected the Royal Navy dockyard, and
placed a wreath upon the grave of the late Admiral Napier, until
recently in command of the Royal West Indian squadron, who was one of
the victims of an outbreak of typhoid in these islands. He also paid a
farewell visit to H.M.S. _Calcutta_, Flagship of the Royal West Indian
Squadron, which had been his escort throughout the tour in these waters,
and said good-bye to its officers and men, at the same time conferring
the Knight Commandership of the Victorian Order upon Admiral Everett,
and the Companionship on Captain Noble, R.N.
The final day of the Prince's visit to Bermuda found him at St. George,
the quaint coral-built old capital, to which he drove himself from
Government House, Hamilton, in a high-seated mail phaeton, with two
horses, Sir James Willcocks beside him. The drive was twelve miles along
the coast, through most beautiful country, a fresh sea-breeze mitigating
the heat, which had previously been trying. Much of the way the road was
shaded by feathery Lignum-vitae trees, here known as cedars, which have
deliciously scented wood and were once a rich asset for shipbuilding.
Flowering groves of pink oleander, dense thickets of scarlet, pink and
yellow hibiscus, purple masses of bougainvilleas bordered the way, which
was past garden after garden of the wonderful rich red loam which has
won for Bermuda potatoes, Bermuda onions and Bermuda bananas a
reputation almost world-wide.
_En route_ the Prince alighted to look into the shadowy depths of the
Devil's Grotto, a deep rock-bound pool of clearest water connected with
the sea, in which big fish of brilliant colours swim lazily. He also
wandered hundreds of yards underground, through an extraordinary rift in
the coral formation known as the Crystal cave, from hundreds of
thousands of semi-transparent stalactites, many of them reaching from
floor to ceiling, in some cases overhanging still pools of clear salt
water, or forming grotesque figures, with which the electric lamps, that
light the place, played the most fantastic tricks. The cave is one of a
number in different parts of the islands, and claims to be of
extraordinary antiquity, the stalactites growing at so slow a rate that
a hundred thousand years are believed to be represented by a mere
fraction of their length.
The entire route from Hamilton to St. George had been decorated, the
arches representing an immense amount of willing labour. One of them had
been solidly constructed of square blocks of sawn coral rock by coloured
volunteers, who had built it at night after their ordinary working hours
were over. Another, which had been put up by members of the garrison,
was a wonderfully worked-out reproduction of the sailing ship _Patience_
built near by, over three hundred years ago, by which the shipwrecked
crew of Sir George Somer's ship _Sea Venture_ made their way to
Virginia. This arch was entirely constructed of the local cedar, which
was the wood used in building the _Patience_.
At St. George the Prince was entertained by Mayor Boyle and members of
the local town council, the Mayor's tiny but very self-possessed
grand-daughter presenting a bouquet, the last local attention of the
tour. He was given a great send-off when he finally embarked by launch
to rejoin the _Renown_ waiting for him beyond the reefs with the end of
her mission in sight and her blunt grey nose pointing toward home.
Eight days later, on the 11th October, early in the morning, the heart
of England turned for a moment to her old harbour of Portsmouth, where,
through one of her own October fogs, her great battle-cruiser was
drawing majestically into port, bringing home from his second journey to
kinsfolk the eldest son of her Royal House. Perhaps the heart of England
felt a certain pride....
XXVI
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE TOUR
This Chapter is, by kind permission, largely reproduced from an
article by the writer published in the "Nineteenth Century" of
December, 1920.
"The tumult and the shouting dies," and what, now that it is over,
remains to Britain of the enterprise? What treasure came back in the
_Renown_ to make this Royal adventure worth while?
The word may be disputed. The nation's heir, it may be said, does not
adventure in travelling to the hearths of kinsfolk. There is no
adventure in a voyage surrounded by every means of safety and comfort
that modern science can devise, a voyage backed by the blessing and sped
by the hope and pride of this sound old Mother Country. Yet in the fluid
state of social and political emotion to-day it was an adventure, a
challenge in the very teeth of those unbridled forces that are so
blatant and busy in the disservice of the British Empire, and a
challenge before which not one of them raised its head.