MONTREAL
I
The Prince had had a brief but lively experience of Montreal earlier in
his tour. It was but a hint of what was to happen when he returned on
Monday, October 27th. It was not merely that Montreal as the biggest
and richest city in Canada had set itself the task of winding up the
trip in befitting manner; there was that about the quality of its
entertainment which made it both startling and charming.
Even before the train reached Windsor Station the Prince was receiving
a welcome from all the smaller towns that make up outlying Montreal.
At these places the habitant Frenchmen and women crowded about the
observation platform of the train to cry their friendliness in French,
where English was unknown. And the friendliness was not all on the
side of the habitants.
"They tole me," said one old habitant in workingman overalls, "they
tole me I could not shake 'is han'. So I walk t'ro' them, _Oui_. An'
'e see me. A' 'e put out 'is 'an', an' 'e laf--so. I tell you 'e's a
real feller, de kin' that shake han' wis men lak me."
Montreal itself met the Prince in a maze of confetti and snow.
Montreal was showing its essential self by a happy accident. It was
the Montreal of old France, gay and vivacious and full of colour mated
to the stern stuff of Canada.
It is true there was not very much snow, merely a fleck of it in the
air, that starred the wind-screens of the long line of automobiles that
formed the procession; but Canada and Montreal are not all snow,
either. It was as though the native spirit of the place was impressing
upon us the feeling that underneath the gaiety we were encountering
there was all the sternness of the pioneers that had made this fine
town the splendid place it is.
There was certainly gaiety in the air on that day. The Prince drove
out from the station into a city of cheering. Mighty crowds were about
the station. Mighty crowds lined the great squares and the long
streets through which he rode, and crowds filled the windows of
sky-climbing stores. It was an animated crowd. It expressed itself
with the unaided throat, as well as on whistles and with eerie noises
on striped paper horns. It used rattles and it used sirens.
And mere noise being not enough, it loosed its confetti. As the Prince
drove through the narrow canyon of the business streets, confetti was
tossed down from high windows by the bagful. Streamers of all colours
shot down from buildings and up from the sidewalks, until the snakes of
vivid colour, skimming and uncoiling across the street, made a bright
lattice over flagpole and telephone wire, and, with the bright flutter
of the flags, gave the whole proceedings a vivid and carnival air.
Strips of coloured paper and torn letter headings fluttered down, too,
and in such masses that those who were responsible must have got rid of
them by the shovelful. Prince and car were very quickly entangled in
fluttering strips and bright streamers, that snapped and fluttered like
the multi-tinted tails of comets behind him as he sped.
There was an air of cheery abandon about this whole-hearted
friendliness. The crowd was bright and vivacious. There was laughter
and gaiety everywhere, and when the Prince turned a corner, it lifted
its skirts and with fresh laughter raced across squares and along side
streets in order to get another glimpse of this "real feller."
Bands of students, Frenchmen from Laval in velvet berets, and English
from McGill, made the sidewalks lively. When they could, they rushed
the cars of the procession and rode in thick masses on the footboards
in order to keep up with the Royal progress. When policemen drove them
off footboards, they waited for the next car to come along and got on
to the footboards of that.
When the Prince went into the City Hall they tried to take the City
Hall by storm, and succeeded, indeed, in clambering on to all those
places where human beings should not go, and from there they sang to
the vast crowd waiting for the exit of the Prince, choosing any old
tune from "Oh, Canada," in French, to "Johnny's in Town," in polyglot.
It was a great reception, a reception with electricity in it. A
reception where France added a colour and a charm to Britain and made
it irresistible.
II
And it was only a sample, that reception.
Tuesday, October 28th, as a day, was tremendous. For the Prince it
began at lunch, but a lunch of great brilliance. At the handsome Place
Viger Hotel he was again the centre of crowds. Crowds waited in the
streets, in spite of the greyness, the damp and the cold. Crowds
filled the lobbies and galleries of the hotel to cheer him as he came.
In the great dining-room was a great crowd, a crowd that seemed to be
growing out of a wilderness of flowers. There was an amazing profusion
and beauty of flowers all through that room. And not merely were there
flowers for decoration, but with a graceful touch the Mayor and the
City Fathers, who gave that lunch, had set a perfect carnation at the
plate of every guest as a favour for his buttonhole.
The gathering was as vivid as its setting. Gallic beards wagged
amiably in answer to clean-shaven British lips. The soutane and
amethyst cross sat next the Anglican apron and gaiters, and the khaki
of two tongues had war experiences on one front translated by an
interpreter.
It was an eager gathering that crowded forward from angles of the room
or stood up on its seats in order to catch every word the Prince
uttered, and it could not cheer warmly enough when he spoke with real
feeling of the mutual respect that was the basis of the real
understanding between the French-speaking and the English-speaking
sections of the Canadian nation.
The reality of that mutual respect was borne out by the throngs that
gathered in the streets when the Prince left the hotel. It was through
a mere alley in humanity that his car drove to La Fontaine Park, and at
the park there was an astonishing gathering.
In the centre of the grass were several thousand veteran soldiers who
had served in the war. They were of all arms, from Highlanders to
Flying Men, and, ranked in battalions behind their laurel-wreathed
standards, they made a magnificent showing. Masses of wounded soldiers
in automobiles filled one side of the great square, humanity of both
sexes overflowed the other three sides. Ordinary methods of control
were hopeless. The throng of people simply submerged all signs of
authority and invaded the parade ground until on half of it it was
impossible to distinguish khaki in ranks from men and women and
children sightseers in chaos.
In the face of this crowd Montreal had to invent a new method of
authority. The mounted men having failed to press the spectators back,
tanks were loosed.... Oh, not the grim, steel Tanks of the war zone,
but the frail and mobile Tanks of civilization--motor-cycles. The
motor-cycle police were sent against the throng. The cycles, with
their side-cars, swept down on the mass, charging cleverly until the
speeding wheels seemed about to drive into civilian suitings. Under
this novel method of rounding up, the thick wedges of people were
broken up; they yielded and were gradually driven back to proper
position.
Again the throngs in the park were only hints of what the Prince was to
expect in his drive through the town. Leaving the grounds and turning
into the long, straight and broad Sherbrooke Street, the bonnet of his
automobile immediately lodged in the thickets of crowds. The splendid
avenue was not big enough for the throngs it contained, and the people
filled the pavements and spread right across the roadway.
Slowly, and only by forcing a way with the bonnet of the automobile,
could the police drive a lane through the cheerful mass. The ride was
checked down to a crawl, and as he neared his destination, the Art
Gallery, progress became a matter of inches at a time only. It was a
mighty crowd. It was not unruly or stubborn; it checked the Prince's
progress simply because men and women conform to ordinary laws of
space, and it was physically impossible to squeeze back thirty ranks
into a space that could contain twenty only.
I suppose I should have written physically uncomfortable, for actually
a narrow strip, the width of a car only, was driven through the throng.
The people were jammed so tightly back that when the line of cars
stopped, as it frequently had to, the people clambered on to the
footboards for relief.
In front of the classic portico of the Art Gallery the scene was
amazing. The broad street was a sea of heads. Before this wedge of
people the Prince's car was stopped dead. Here the point of
impossibility appeared to have been reached, for though he was to
alight, there was no place for alighting, and even very little space
for opening the door of the car. It was only by fighting that the
police got him on to the pavement and up the steps of the gallery, and
though the crowd was extraordinarily good-tempered, the scuffling was
not altogether painless, for in that heaving mass clothes were torn and
shins were barked in the struggle.
The Prince was to stand at the top of the steps of the Art Gallery to
take the salute of the soldiers he had reviewed in La Fontaine Park, as
they swung past in a Victory March. He stood there for over an hour
waiting for them. The head of the column had started immediately after
he had, but it found the difficulties of progress even more apparent
than the Prince. The long column, with the trophies of captured guns
and machines of war, could only press forward by fits and starts. At
one time it seemed impossible that the veterans would ever get through
the pack of citizens, and word was given that the march had been
postponed. But by slow degrees the column forced a way to the Art
Gallery, and gave the Prince the salute amid enthusiasm that must
remain memorable even in Montreal's long history of splendid memories.
III
Montreal had set to excel itself as a host, and every moment of the
Prince's days was brilliantly filled. There were vivid receptions and
splendid dances at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel and the big and comfortable
Hotel Windsor. Montreal is the centre of most things in Canada; in it
are the head offices of the great railways and the great newspapers and
the leading financial and commercial concerns. The big men who control
these industries are hospitable with a large gesture. In the hands of
these men, not only the Prince, but the members of his entourage had a
royal time.
Personally, though I found Montreal a delightful city, a city of
vividness and vivacity, I was, in one sense, not sorry to leave it, for
I felt myself rapidly disintegrating under the kindnesses showered upon
us.
This kindness had its valuable experience: it brought us into contact
with many of the men who are helping to mould the future of Canada. We
met such capable minds as those who are responsible for the
organization of such great companies as the Canadian Pacific and the
Grand Trunk Railways. We met many of the great and brilliant newspaper
men, such as Senator White, of the _Montreal Gazette_, who with his
exceedingly able right-hand man, Major John Bassett, was our good
friend always and our host many times. All these men are undoubtedly
forces in the future of Canada. We were able to get from them a juster
estimate of Canada, her prospects and her potentialities, than we could
have obtained by our unaided observation. And, more, we got from
contact with such men as these an appreciation of the splendid
qualities that make the Canadian citizen so definite a force in the
present and future of the world.
IV
During his stay in Montreal the Prince was brought in contact with
every phase of civic life. On Wednesday, October 29th, he went by
train through the outlying townships on Montreal Island, calling at the
quaint and beautifully decorated villages of the habitants, that
usually bear the names of old French saints. The inhabitants of these
places, though said to be taciturn and undemonstrative, met the train
in crowds, and in crowds jostled to get at the Prince and shake his
hand, and they showed particular delight when he addressed them in
their own tongue.
On Thursday, October 30th, the Prince drove about Montreal itself,
going to the docks where ocean-going ships lie at deep-water quays
under the towering elevators and the giant loading gear. Amid college
yells, French and English, he toured through the great universities of
Laval and McGill--famous for learning and Stephen Leacock. He also
toured the districts where the working man lives, holding informal
receptions there.
He opened athletic clubs and went to dances. At the balls he was at
once the friend of everybody by his zest for dancing and his
delightfully human habit of playing truant in order to sit out on the
stairs with bright partners.
As ever his thoughtfulness and tact created legends. I was told, and I
believe it to be true, that after one dinner he was to drive straight
to a big dance; but, hearing that a great number of people had
collected along the route to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel where he was
staying, under the impression that he was to return there, he gave
orders that his car was to go to the hotel before going to the dance.
It was an unpleasant night, and the drive took him considerably out of
his way; but, rather than disappoint the people who had gathered
waiting, he took the roundabout journey--and he took it standing in his
car so that the people could see him in the light of the lamps.
It was at Montreal, too, that the Prince went to his first theatrical
performance in Canada. A great and bright gala performance on
music-hall lines had been arranged at one of the principal theatres,
and this the Prince attended. The audience with some restraint watched
him as he sat in his box, wondering what their attitude should be. But
a joke sent him off in a tremendous laugh, and all, realizing that he
was there to enjoy himself, joined with him in that enjoyment. He
declared as he left the theatre that it was "A scrumptious show."
V
On Sunday, November 3rd, Montreal, after winding up the tour with a
mighty week, gave the Prince a mighty send-off. Officially the tour in
Canada was ended, though there were two or three extraordinary
functions to be filled at Toronto and Ottawa. The chief of these was
at Toronto on Tuesday, November 4th, when the Prince made the most
impressive speech of the whole tour at Massey Hall.
This hall was packed with one of the keenest audiences the Prince had
faced in Canada. It was made up of members of the Canadian and Empire
Clubs, and every man there was a leader in business. It was both a
critical gathering and an acute one. It would take nothing on trust,
yet it could appreciate every good point. This audience the Prince won
completely.
It was the longest speech the Prince had made, yet he never spoke
better; he had both mastered his nervousness and his need for notes.
Decrying his abilities as an orator, he yet won his hearing by his very
lack of oratorical affectation.
He spoke very earnestly of the wonderful reception he had had
throughout the breadth of Canada, from every type of Canadian--a
reception, he said, which he was not conceited enough to imagine was
given to himself personally, but to him as heir to the British throne
and to the ideal which that throne stood for. The throne, he pointed
out, consolidated the democratic tradition of the Empire, because it
was a focus for all men and races, for it was outside parties and
politics; it was a bond which held all men together. The Empire of
which the throne was the focal point was different from other and
ancient Empires. The Empires of Greece and Rome were composed of many
states owing allegiance to the mother state. That ideal was now
obsolete. The British Empire was a single state composed of many
nations which give allegiance not so much to the mother country, but to
the great common system of life and government. That is, the Dominions
were no longer Colonies but sister nations of the British Empire.
Every point of this telling speech was acutely realized and immediately
applauded, though perhaps the warmest applause came after the Prince's
definition of the Empire, and after his declaration that, in visiting
the United States of America, he regarded himself not only as an
Englishman but as a Canadian and a representative of the whole Empire.
In a neat and concise speech the Chairman of the meeting had already
summed up the meaning and effect of the Prince's visit to Canada. The
Prince, he said, had passed through Canada on a wave of enthusiasm that
had swept throughout and had dominated the country. That enthusiasm
could have but one effect, that of deepening and enriching Canadian
loyalty to the Crown, and giving a new sense of solidarity among the
people of Canada. "Our Indian compatriots," he concluded, "with
picturesque aptness have acclaimed the Prince as Chief Morning Star.
That name is well and prophetically chosen. His visit will usher in
for Canada a new day full of wide-flung influence and high
achievements."
This summary is the best comment on the reason and effect of the tour.
VI
The last phase of this truly remarkable tour through Canada was staged
in Ottawa. As far as ceremonial went, it was entirely quiet, though
the Prince made this an occasion for receiving and thanking those
Canadians whose work had helped to make his visit a success. Apart
from this, the Prince spent restful and recreative days at Government
House, in preparation for the strenuous time he was to have across the
American border.
But before he reached Ottawa there was just one small ceremony that, on
the personal side, fittingly brought the long travel through Canada to
an end. At a siding near Colburn on the Ottawa road the train was
stopped, and the Prince personally thanked the whole staff of "this
wonderful train" for the splendid service they had rendered throughout
the trip. It was, he said, a record of magnificent team work, in which
every individual had worked with untiring and unfailing efficiency.
He made his thanks not only general but also individual, for he shook
hands with every member of the train team; chefs in white overalls,
conductors in uniform, photographers, the engineers in jeans and peaked
caps, waiters, clerks, negro porters and every man who had helped to
make that journey so marked an achievement, passed before him to
receive his thanks.
And when this was accomplished the Prince himself took over the train
for a spell. He became the engine-driver.
He mounted into the cab and drove the engine for eighteen miles,
donning the leather gauntlets (which every man in Canada who does dirty
work wears), and manipulating the levers. Starting gingerly at first,
he soon had the train bowling along merrily at a speed that would have
done credit to an old professional.
At Flavelle the usual little crowd had gathered ready to surround the
rear carriage. To their astonishment, they found the Prince in the
cab, waving his hat out of the window at them, enjoying both their
surprise and his own achievement.
On Wednesday, November 5th, the journey ended at Ottawa, and the train
was broken up to our intense regret. For us it had been a train-load
of good friends, and though many were to accompany us to America, many
were not, and we felt the parting. Among those who came South with us
was our good friend "Chief" Chamberlain, who had been in control of the
C.P.R. police responsible for the Prince's safety throughout the trip.
He was one of the most genial cosmopolitans of the world, with the real
Canadian genius for friendship--indeed so many friends had he, that the
Prince of Wales expressed the opinion that Canada was populated by
seven million people, mainly friends of "the Chief."