The Royal Tour in India being a matter of supreme importance, it was
only right that Henty should be chosen by the journal for which he had
done such admirable work to accompany His Majesty, King Edward, then
Prince of Wales, and accordingly, in 1875, we find him one of the select
corps of artists and correspondents who went on this memorable journey.
It was an agreeable change from the picturesque squalor and misery of
civil war to a triumphal spectacular tour through the principal cities
of the Indian Empire, in the train of the heir-apparent to the throne.
No correspondent's journey can be anything less than arduous. He is
always face to face with a heavy call upon his energies; he must be
continually on the strain in order that he may feel that he is doing his
best for his paper; above all, he must miss nothing that is of
importance and worthy of the chronicler's pen. Still, in comparison
with Henty's last journey, this was a pleasure trip, with all
difficulties smoothed away. He travelled through a country in holiday
guise, where day after day the various rajahs and Eastern potentates
vied with each other in the splendour of their receptions, in their
displays of Eastern magnificence, and in the opulence of their trains.
It was all like a long series of Eastern fields of the cloth of gold.
Notwithstanding that this was the latter half of the nineteenth century,
it was like stepping to where medieval pageantry was in full swing, and
the brilliant East surpassed itself in dazzling spectacle to do honour
to the son of the august lady who on the first of May of the following
year was to be proclaimed Empress as well as Queen.
Henty reached Bombay in November. He was present at the receptions at
Baroda and Goa, and then went southward to Ceylon. Turning north he
went to Madras, and he reached Calcutta at Christmas to be present at
the brilliant receptions of the Indian potentates. At the beginning of
the following year he saw the unveiling of the statue of the
Governor-general, the unfortunate Lord Mayo, who was assassinated by one
of the convicts during a visit to the Andaman Islands.
From Calcutta the Prince's train visited the grand old cities of Benares
and Lucknow--name of ill omen, shadowed by the horrors of the Mutiny,
but now glittering with splendour, the streets crowded with peaceful
subjects eager to add to the brilliancy of the scene and to give fitting
welcome to the son of the Great White Queen.
Henty visited city after city brilliantly coloured with the pomp of the
Orient, before the Prince went northward to Nepaul. He was present too
at the river-crossing by the great train of elephants in their gorgeous
trappings, a scene transferred to canvas by his old fellow club member
and companion of the journey, Herbert Johnson, who has also since passed
away.
It was in Nepaul that Henty was brought face to face with much of the
barbaric splendour of Northern India, whose rulers, proud of their
independence, have kept up much of the tradition of the past. There are
some among us still who can recall the display made by the Nepaulese
ambassadors in 1850, with their prince, Jung Bahadoor, and it was
fitting that our Prince should visit an Eastern king who fought bravely
and stood firm for England during the horrors of the Mutiny in 1857.
The name of the brave little hill men, once our opponents and at war
with us, is historic in connection with many a hard fight in which they
have done good service for England. They have made their British
officers proud to be in command of a Gurkha regiment, and though
rifle-armed, they are still wielders of their ancient weapon, the
curved, willow-bladed, deadly _kukri_.
It is in Nepaul that the primeval tract of jungle, dear to all sportsmen
under the name of the Terai, is to be found, and Henty's pen was called
upon here to describe the hunting expeditions, with the train of
howdah-bearing elephants and beaters in pursuit of tiger and the other
savage denizens of the wide-spread forest. Here the Prince was able to
show his prowess with the rifle, and among the presents he received is
there not still living one of the little plump elephants he brought
back, to become in course of years a huge bearer of juvenile visitors at
the Zoo?
At Bombay Henty, of course, had to describe the brilliant illuminations,
and he put in a word too for the marvellous coloured fires which flashed
from the port-holes of the fleet, also for the illuminated fort and
esplanade, in all about three-quarters of a mile of general brilliancy
and display of loyalty. Reference is made also to the Byculla Club ball
and the arrival of the Prince and suite. There was a grand banquet to
the soldiers of the Bombay garrison and the sailors of the fleet, and it
was a pleasant time for the writer generally, especially after
describing the horrors of war.
The display of loyalty to the young Prince was tremendous. Fete
succeeded fete, and Henty speaks of a banquet to the juveniles, of
receptions galore, and of the Parsee ladies in their wonderful dresses.
He, of course, saw the famed Temple of Elephants, but it has been
described _ad nauseam_. He has a word in season as to the overpowering
force of the sun. After such heat, welcome indeed was the shade of the
Cave Temples with their religious figures. Then came the visit to Poona
and the approach to the _ghauts_. There were reviews and more fetes
before returning to and leaving Bombay. At the reviews he was struck by
the brilliancy of the native troops, especially the Bombay Lancers and
Poona Horse. He touched, too, on the trooping of the colours of the
Marine Battalion for the last time prior to being presented now with new
colours. The Bombay Marine Battalion had been raised a hundred years
previously, and enjoyed a fine record.
At Baroda came the visit to the Gaekwar and Sir Madhava Rao. Here the
Prince mounted the elephant in waiting, his host having provided a
majestic beast, richly caparisoned and gorgeously painted. The howdah
was of silver, beautifully decorated with cloth of gold, the gorgeous
housings reaching to the ground. It was a resplendent spectacle. The
base of the howdah was a platform on which stood attendants to drive off
the flies and fan the air. A procession was formed, all the elephants
being splendidly caparisoned, and a small escort of dragoons rode in
advance.
In the afternoon there was an elephant fight--one of the popular
amusements in Baroda--and on the next day a barbaric display of combats
between other animals.
The following day came a cheetah hunt, to display the skill of the
highly-trained, greyhound-like leopards. Shooting followed during the
rest of the stay, including pig-shooting. The Prince took part in the
pig-sticking, which he greatly enjoyed.
The expedition returned to Bombay and started at once for Ceylon, taking
Goa, the picturesque and Lilliputian Portuguese Indian Empire, _en
route_.
At Colombo there was a brilliant assemblage of Europeans and native
chiefs at the railway station. At Kandy the thoroughfares were thronged
with vociferous crowds, while triumphal arches were everywhere, and this
in a land where every tropical road seems to pass under a series of
nature's beautiful bowers. The Prince left Kandy _en route_ for two
days' elephant-shooting and for Colombo, and Henty describes the
Botanical Gardens and the Temple of Buddha, where the chief head-man
displayed Buddha's tooth.
Afterwards there took place a grand torchlight procession, with fifty
elephants, bands of native music, and natives in the guise of devils
performing antics--a novel and successful pageant. The town was
illuminated, and beacon fires were lit on neighbouring hills, enhancing
the natural picturesque beauties of the place.
It was when returning from an elephant hunt at Colombo that the royal
carriage was overturned and smashed, the Prince being thrown underneath,
but fortunately escaping unhurt. An exciting feature of the hunt came
when the party was pursued through the dense bamboo jungle by a herd of
fierce, wild elephants.
At Madras there were grand festivities, with an elaborate Nautch and
Hindustani drama. At Calcutta the _maidan_ was lined with troops, and,
as a sign of peace and prosperity, the National Anthem was sung by ten
thousand school-children. Here the renowned Zoological Gardens came in
for notice. Everywhere the natives flocked in thousands to see the
royal visitor, while the programme at Calcutta also included
tent-pegging and another procession of elephants.
At Benares there were visits to the temples. The Prince was the Rajah
of Benares' guest in a splendid castle on the Ganges, the roof of which
afforded a view of the magnificent illuminations. Lucknow supplied more
sporting features. At Cawnpore a visit was made to the sad memorial of
the cemetery, while at Delhi there was further military display and
another grand review. Henty touches on the remarkable appearance of the
elephant batteries. The Prince and the brilliant staff rode along the
line of eighteen thousand troops. At Lahore they saw the old palace of
Jamoo, another brilliant display of fireworks, and a dance of lamas from
Ladak.
At other of the great cities of the country there were receptions by the
rajahs. The account of the illumination of the Golden Temple reads like
an extract from the _Arabian Nights_. At Agra the procession to meet
the Prince was gigantic, a most brilliant affair in every way, several
hundred elephants bearing gorgeous trappings marching past, while
seventeen rajahs were present. Every available man, horse, camel, and
elephant were utilised on the occasion of a visit to the Taj Mahal
monument, which was illuminated with wondrous effect.
At Gwalior, accompanied by a strong British escort, the Prince was met
by the Maharajah Sanda, who accompanied him to the old palace, the route
of which was lined by fourteen thousand of the Maharajah's picked
troops, who looked uncommonly well, while a sham-fight which was
arranged was a noteworthy affair. This, in fact, was one of the
grandest receptions of the visit.
From Gwalior the expedition moved on to Jaipur, where the Maharajah gave
the Prince the opportunity of shooting his first tiger. The next visit
was to the camp at Bunbussa, where the Prince was received by Sir Jung
Bahadoor, the ruler of the Nepaulese. Here there was a guard of honour
of Gurkhas, and it was worthy of remark that the Prince and Sir Jung
were in plain clothes; but after a brief interval Sir Jung Bahadoor
returned, with his suite, all in full dress, blazing with diamonds. A
durbar was held, and the Prince paid a return visit. At each durbar
there were presentations, and to each member of the Prince's suite the
servants brought in trays of presents. Two tigers in cages, many other
wild creatures, and a splendid collection of the beautiful pheasant-like
birds from the Nepaulese mountains, were offered to the royal visitor.
Splendid sport was enjoyed here in the Nepaulese dominions, seven tigers
being shot, six falling to the Prince's rifle. Upwards of six hundred
elephants were employed in beating the jungle, and the sight was of an
imposing character. Before leaving, the royal party had a most exciting
hunt. The Prince and his suite, accompanied by Sir Jung Bahadoor, went
in pursuit of a wild rogue elephant, a splendid animal with huge tusks,
which at the end of a long day's chase, and after charging the royal
party several times, was eventually captured by means of tame elephants.
Such were some of the scenes and incidents which Henty was called upon
to witness and describe, and to a man fresh from the arduous trials of
the Coomassie campaign the change must have been both refreshing and
delightful.
It is amusing to read a telegram from Aden which gives an account of
some of the Prince's presents:--"The menagerie is quite comfortable. It
contains eighty animals. The elephants walk about the deck,"--this, of
course, meaning our two little friends that were known so well at the
Zoo--"the deer are very tame, and the tigers are domesticated, though
they exhibit tendencies to relapse." So says the chronicler
sarcastically.
At the conclusion of the Prince's visit, in March, 1876, and shortly
after Henty's return, there was more food for his pen, but of a very
different character. The Turko-Servian War had broken out, and once
more he was the busy war correspondent, though this proved to be the
last time that he went to the front.