Hyde Park from Domesday-book to Date

by John Ashton

CHAPTER IX.

Coronation of George IV.—Boat-racing on the Serpentine—Illumination of the Park—Fireworks—Coronation of Queen Victoria—Fair in the Park—Fireworks in Hyde Park, at “Peace rejoicing,” May, 1856.

The next jollification in Hyde Park was on July 19, 1821, at the Coronation of George the Magnificent. According to The Morning Chronicle of that date, “The preparations for the amusements of the populace are extensive. Boats were conveyed to the Serpentine River, and the arrangements for the fireworks and other diversions are on the most extensive and magnificent scale. It is expected that a sort of Coronation Fair will be established in Hyde Park, and that oxen and sheep will be roasted whole. Many hogsheads of Ale and Porter have been transported thither for distribution.”

In the next day’s number the same journal gives the following description:—

“On the slight view we had on Tuesday evening of the preparations making in Hyde Park, we had no conception they were of such an extensive nature as we found them to be yesterday. The machinery erected for letting the fireworks off was on a larger scale than any thing of that kind which has hitherto been produced in this country; the number of rockets for explosion exceeded 3000. The workmen were most actively employed during the day, to complete the work within the railing. It was placed on a piece of ground on a height on the north side of the Serpentine River, and the view from the river, on the south side of it, only prevented by the scattered trees on the bank of the river, and they were illuminated with Chinese lamps nearly to Hyde Park Corner. On the right and left of the enclosure were the designs for the fireworks, and, in the centre, were several marquees scattered, to about the number of 30, which had the appearance of a camp. The back of the enclosure was completed by transparencies; the centre one was Neptune on his car, drawn by sea-horses, followed by the usual group of figures. Above that, in another transparency, was the figure of Britannia, with an olive-leaf in her hand.

“On the border of the river stands a small house, for the purpose of containing the necessary articles to preserve persons from accident, who venture to bathe in the river. This was fitted up for the purpose of displaying some elegant devices in the way of illuminations. At the east end of the River, near the Bridge, preparations were made for the fireworks and illuminations. There were not less than 500 hampers of lamps in the Park in the morning, and people busily employed in cleaning and trimming them. The Park itself during the day had a most beautiful appearance, which was assisted by the assemblage of several persons of the first distinction; and, to enliven the scene, there were more than a hundred wherries and barges on the river, some of them covered with awnings. The novelty of the scene pleased, and we saw many families alight from their carriages, and take boat. At one time there were not less than 30 boats rowing up and down the river, filled by most elegantly dressed ladies. The surface of the water was unruffled, the sky was clear, and the sun shone most brilliantly, and its lustre was not diminished by the beauty of Britannia’s daughters.

“The fireworks were of the most splendid description, the ample space of ground allotted for the purpose enabled those who had the management of this description of amusement to render it peculiarly gratifying to an immense crowd of spectators.”

The description of this fête in The Times of July 20th, 1821, is somewhat more meagre, but it supplies some deficiencies in the foregoing.

“The crowd moved forward to Hyde Park to witness a boat-race, which took place, a little before two o’clock, on the Serpentine River. Upon this occasion four boats started, and were obliged to double a standard, erected at either extremity of the river, twice. The race was won by about two lengths of the winner’s boat. The river was crowded with boats filled with ladies and gentlemen regaling themselves upon the water; and its banks lined with carriages and well dressed persons, who appeared to derive much enjoyment from the scene before them. But what excited the greatest share of attention from the spectators, was a splendid triumphal car drawn by two elephants, one before the other, as large as life, and caparisoned after the eastern manner, with a young woman, dressed as a slave, seated on the back of each, and affecting to guide the animals with an iron rod. The machine was constructed on a large raft, and was towed by three or four boats, manned by watermen in blue uniforms.”

The Crace collection (Port. ix. 98) has a few small water-colour drawings of this fête, but they are so sketchy as to be practically valueless.

At the Coronation of William IV. and Queen Adelaide, on September 8th, 1831, Hyde Park was only utilized for a display of fireworks, at which many were more or less hurt by the falling rocket sticks; six so seriously as to have to be taken to St. George’s Hospital.

In the Crace collection (Port. ix. 99) there is a very fair lithograph of a bird’s-eye view of the fair in Hyde Park on the occasion of the coronation of Queen Victoria, on June 28, 1838, and The Morning Chronicle of the following day has the best and fullest account of this fair I can find; and, as it is so intimately connected with one of the most joyful events in the reign of our good and beloved Queen, I may, perhaps, be pardoned if I give it in extenso.

“The Fair in Hyde Park.

“Of all the scenes which we witnessed connected with the Coronation, probably this was the most lively, and that in which there was the least confusion, considering the mass of persons collected together. Our readers are already aware that the fair was permitted to take place by the Government, on the petition of the present holders of the show which formerly belonged to the celebrated Richardson; and it was to their care, together with that of Mr. Mallalieu, the Superintendent of Police, that its general management was entrusted. In justice to those gentlemen, we must say that the arrangements made for the accommodation of the public were admirable, while they were carried out with the very greatest success. The booths were arranged in a square form, and covered a space of ground about 1400 feet long, and about 1000 feet broad.

They were arranged in regular rows, ample space being allowed between them for the free passage of the people; and they consisted of every variety of shape, while they were decked with flags of all colours and nations. One portion of the fair was set apart exclusively for gingerbread and fancy booths, while those rows by which these were surrounded were appropriated to the use of showmen, and of persons who dealt in the more substantial articles of refreshment. Of the latter description, however, our readers would recognize many as regular frequenters of such scenes; but, probably, the booth which attracted the greatest attention, from its magnitude, was that erected by Williams, the celebrated boiled beef-monger of the Old Bailey. This was pitched in the broadest part of the fair, and immediately adjoining Richardson’s show; and at the top of it was erected a gallery for the use of those who were desirous of witnessing the fireworks in the evening, and to which access was to be procured by payment of a small sum.

“While this person, and the no less celebrated Alger, the proprietor of the Crown and Anchor, were astonishing the visitors with the enormous extent of the accommodation which they could afford the public, others set up claims of a character more agreeable to the age, in the exceedingly tasty mode in which they had decorated their temporary houses. Of these, that which struck us as most to be admired, was a tent erected by a person named Bull, of Hackney, the interior of which, decorated with fluted pillars of glazed calico, had a really beautiful appearance. It would be useless, however, to attempt to particularize every booth, for each held out its alluring attractions to the gaping crowd with equal force, and each appeared to be sufficiently patronized by the friends of its proprietor.

“Not a few, in addition to the solid attractions of eating and drinking, held out others of a more ‘airy’ description, and in many it was announced that a ‘grand ball’ would be held in the evening, ‘to commence at six o’clock’; whilst, in others, bands of music were heard ‘in full play,’ joining their sweet sounds to the melodious beating of gongs and shoutings through the trumpets of the adjoining shows. In attractions of this kind we need only say that the fair was, in most respects, fully equal to any other at which we ever had the good fortune to be present, whether at Greenwich, or Croydon, or in any other of the suburban or metropolitan districts. Beef and ham, beer and wine, chickens and salad, were all equally plentiful, and the taste of the most fastidious might be pleased as to the quality or the quantity of the provisions provided for him. In the pastry-cook’s booths, the usual variety of gingerbread nuts and gilt cocks in breeches, and kings and queens were to be procured; while, in some of them, the more refined luxury of ices was advertised, an innovation upon the ancient style of refreshment which we certainly had never expected to see introduced into the canvas shops of the fair pastry-cooks.

“While these marchands were holding out their various attractions to the physical tastes of the assembled multitude, the showkeepers were not less actively engaged in endeavouring to please the eye of those who were willing to enjoy their buffooneries or their wonders. Fat boys and living skeletons, Irish giants and Welsh dwarfs, children with two heads, and animals without heads at all, were among the least of the wonders to be seen: while the more rational exhibition of wild beasts, joined with the mysterious wonders of the conjuror and the athletic performances of tumblers, in calling forth expressions of surprise and delight from the old, as well as from the young, who were induced to contribute their pennies ‘to see the show.’

“Nor were these the only modes of procuring amusement which presented themselves. On the Serpentine River a number of boats had been launched, which had been procured from the Thames, and watermen were employed, during the whole day, in rowing about those who were anxious to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the water, after the turmoil and heat of the fair. Ponies and donkeys were, in the outskirts of the fair, plentiful, for the use of the young who were inclined for equestrian exercise, while archery-grounds and throw-sticks held out their attractions to the adepts in such practices, and roundabouts and swings were ready to gratify the tastes of the adventurous. Kensington Gardens were, as usual, open to the public, and not a few who were fearful of joining in the crowd contented themselves here in viewing the gay scene from a distance. Timorous, however, though they might be, of personal inconvenience, they did not fail to enjoy the opportunities which were afforded them, of looking into the book of fate; and we observed many of the fairest parts of the creation busily engaged in deep and private confabulations with those renowned seers, the gypsies.

“With regard to those persons who visited the fair, we must say we never saw a more orderly body. From an early hour the visitors were flocking in; but it was not until Her Majesty had gone to Westminster Abbey, that the avenues approaching Hyde Park became crowded. Then, indeed, the countless thousands of London appeared to be poured forth, and all seemed to be bound for the same point of destination. Thousands who had taken up their standing places at Hyde Park Corner, poured through the gate; whilst many who had assumed positions at a greater distance from the Parks, passed through the squares and through Grosvenor Gate. Every avenue was soon filled, every booth was soon crammed full of persons desirous of procuring refreshment and rest after the fatigue of standing so long in the crowd to view the procession.

“These, however, were not the only persons who joined the throng. Every cab, coach, or omnibus which had been left disengaged, appeared to be driving to the same point, full of passengers. Fulham, Putney, Mile End, and Brixton alike contributed their vehicles to carry the people to the Parks, and thousands from the very extremities of the City were to be seen flocking towards the fair. All seemed bent on the same object, that of procuring amusement, and work seemed to have been suspended, as if by common consent. While the east end thrust forth her less aristocratic workmen, the west end was not altogether idle in furnishing its quota to the throng, and we noticed many really elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen alight from their carriages to view the enlivening scene; and many of them, who were, apparently, strangers to such exhibitions, were, evidently, not a little amused at the grotesque imitations of those amusements in which the aristocracy delight.

“Carriages of every description were admitted into the parks, and the splendid carriage of an aristocrat was not unfrequently followed by the tilted waggon of some remover of furniture, with its load of men, women and children, who had come to ‘see the fun.’ All seemed, alike, bent on amusement: all, alike, appeared to throw aside those restraints which rank, or fashion, or station had placed upon them, and to enter fully into the enjoyment of the pleasure of the busy scene in which they were actors. The delightful locality of the fair, the bright sunbeams playing upon the many-coloured tents, the joyous laughter of the people, untouched by debauchery, and unseduced by the gross pleasures of the appetite; the gay dresses of the women, all in their best, joined in making the scene one which must live long in the recollection of those who witnessed it. All appeared to remember that this was the day of the Coronation of a Queen, so youthful, so beautiful, so pure, and all appeared to be determined that no act of insubordination, or of disorder on their part, should sully the bright opening of a reign so hopeful, and from which so much happiness is to be expected.

“We have already said that the arrangements of the fair were excellent; but, while these called forth our admiration, the exceeding attention paid to the public by the police force, appeared to prevent the possibility of accident or robbery. All gambling-booths and thimble-riggers had, of course, been necessarily excluded, but we fear it was not possible to shut out all those persons whose recollection of the laws of meum et tuum was somewhat blunted. We heard of numerous losses of small sums, and of handkerchiefs and other trifles, but, throughout the day, we gained no information of any robbery which was of sufficient extent to produce more than a temporary inconvenience to the person robbed. A temporary police-station was erected in the grounds, in which Mr. Mallalieu and a considerable portion of his men were in attendance during the day; but, although there were, necessarily, some cases in which slight acts of intemperance were visible, nothing of any serious importance occurred during the whole of the early part of the day.

“The orderly conduct of the people, which we have already described as having been observable during the morning, was maintained during the rest of the day. Notwithstanding that the crowd at three o’clock had increased tenfold, no disturbance nor riot occurred. The return of her Majesty attracted a few from the crowd, but nearly every one returned, and all remained for the grand attraction of this part of the day’s amusements—the fireworks. As evening closed in, the fatigue of the people rendered rest, as well as refreshment, necessary, and every booth was in a short time crowded with eager inquiries for eatables and drinkables. The dancing booths were crowded to suffocation, and the viands of the purveyors of grog were soon put into requisition.”

The fireworks, which were to have been let off at nine o’clock, were, owing to the light night, postponed till eleven, and were very noisy and effective, and “One o’clock having arrived, the people separated in a quiet, orderly manner, but it was not till a very late hour that the fair was quite cleared of visitors. Like all such scenes, some irregularities were observable, but on the whole, we never, at any time or in any place, saw a crowd so orderly disposed. No accidents of any importance, we believe, occurred during the day in the fair. Fears were, at one time, entertained that some of the crowd might have sustained injury from the fall of the rocket sticks and other fireworks, and a troop of horse was suggested as a proper means of keeping them at a proper distance from the ground. The excellent arrangements of the police, however, rendered such a step unnecessary; and, although the crowd advanced until within a yard or two of the ground, forcing their way through the cheveaux de frise, we believe no serious injury was inflicted on any person.”

The fair was, at the solicitation of Mr. Hawes, M.P. for Lambeth, permitted to be held for two days, the Coronation Day, and that following—but it was further extended for two more days. The area allotted to it comprised nearly one-third of the park, extending from near the margin of the Serpentine, to within a short distance of Grosvenor Gate.

Of course, the next day’s fair was not so thronged as that on Coronation Day, still, “By three o’clock a vast number of people were in the parks, and thousands were hourly arriving, but the fair was not crowded. At the time just stated, a heavy thunderstorm came on, in the first instance accompanied by hail, which lasted nearly an hour. To those who were in the fair, the drenching rain was a most unwelcome visitor. Some of the unlucky holiday makers who had ventured in the vertical roundabouts, were in a woful plight; the rain was pelting on them while they were dangling in the air, and the men to whom the machines belonged coolly got under shelter till the worst part of the storm was over, utterly regardless of their patrons aloft, several of whom, at the risk of their necks, slid down the beam to terra firma, and good, stout exhortations soon relieved their aerial aquatic companions. The storm was a godsend, in more senses than one, to the victualling booths, for more was disposed of in the shape of ham, beef and stout during its continuance than, perhaps, would have been if the good things were to be given away in fine weather. People dined whether they were in want of that meal or not, and, no doubt, took credit for their patronage.

“When the rain ceased, the fair-going gentry crept from their canvas coverings, and made for the spot where the clown’s gibes and jeers were wont to set his auditors in a roar. But the rain had made the ground so wet and sloppy, that a melancholy seemed to have come over all, the clown included. As for the poor boats on the Serpentine, they clung to the shore, as if they had taken a dislike to an aquatic life, and few were there disposed to navigate them. The gipsy tribe, of which there were hundreds in the fair, crept to their blanket hovels, to bewail the loss of the silver crossings of which the previous day had furnished an abundant supply. Into one of these miserable cabins upwards of thirty were seen to go in the space of an hour, whose appearance and manners would denote that they should know better than to put faith in the trash of the walnut-dyed impostors.”

The day afterwards turned out fine, and the fair was crowded. On the third day a booth caught fire, but no great damage was done. On the fourth and last day, the Queen drove as close to it as she well could do, and all the booths were cleared away that night.

Shirley Hibberd, writing in Notes and Queries (7s. vi. 105), says: “The many interesting papers that have of late appeared recalling scenes and incidents of the Queen’s Coronation, are (so far as I have seen) defective in making no mention of the morris-dancers in Hyde Park. My recollections of the event have been delightfully revived by recent readings, and once more the joyous celebration is before me. I see the park a dusty field, with not a blade of grass upon it, and I hear my father say, in accordance with the belief prevailing, that the grass would grow all the better for being thus destroyed. And, amongst the things that then surprised me, were the morris-dancers, that I had read of, and had never, till then, seen. There could be no mistake, I should now say, about their genuineness, for they were clad as peasants, and all their ways consorted with their new and nicely trimmed smocks, and their well tanned faces. The dancers had, at least, two distinct styles, which I now conjecture were representative of two far-removed provinces, for the two styles were accompanied with distinctive habiliments. In each case the music consisted of pipe and tabor. One set struck short staves at a certain turn in the dance, when the dancers stood in two ranks face to face. The other set struck white handkerchiefs, which were thrown out by a trick of the hand so as to acquire momentary rigidity.”

The police charges from Hyde Park on Coronation Day seem to have consisted of small gamblers and thimble-riggers, and the following is given as an example.

“Marylebone.[35] Three men and one woman, who gave their names John Scullie, Edward Clegg, Lewis Joseph, and Ellen Taylor, were brought before the magistrates, charged with having been found gambling in Hyde Park, in the thickest of the fair.

“The male prisoners were detected by the special constable on duty at the above spot, in the act of playing at a most deceptive game, called ‘prick-in-the-garter,’ at which each of them had contrived to fill his pockets at the expense of the deluded multitude, many of whom, being countrymen, were not at all aware of the artful dodge. The female was found rattling the dice in one of the booths, and had, also, contrived to line her pockets very well. On being taken, she declared she was an innocent country servant out of place, and most vehemently denied that the dice belonged to her.

“They were all four despatched to the treadmill for one month, the magistrates at the same time informing them that the money found on them would go to their support in prison.

“Clegg, on hearing this, exclaimed, ‘Dang it, that is hard, too, that I should have to pay the Governor for punishing me on the wheel, a sort of caper wot I arn’t at all accustomed to. Do let me have a few bob, good luck to your honour, to spend when I comes out.’

“Mr. Rawlinson. ‘Not one farthing. The fair is meant for the recreation of honest people, and not for the advantage of blacklegs and gamblers.’

“Clegg. ‘Vell, if this ’ere arn’t a vicked robbery, I never seed one in my life; but the Queen, God bless her, shall know how her subjects are treated, for, if I don’t publish it in all the papers, my name’s not Edward Clegg.’

“The prisoners were then removed.”

There was no demonstration of joy in Hyde Park to celebrate the marriage of the Queen and Prince Albert on Feb. 10, 1840; and the next occasion when any public entertainment took place therein was in thankfulness for the Treaty of Peace between Russia, France and England, signed at Paris in April, 1856. This “Peace Rejoicing,” as it was called, took place on May 29th following, and took the form of a display of fireworks in Hyde, Green and Victoria Parks and on Primrose Hill. We have only to deal with those in Hyde Park, and the best contemporary account of them that I can find is in The Morning Chronicle of May 30, 1856, as follows:—

“Whatever may have been the sentiments with which the conclusion of peace was received, there can be no doubt, whatever, but that the fireworks displayed to celebrate that important event were highly popular. In delaying the period for public rejoicings until several weeks after the exchange of the ratifications of peace, it would almost appear that the Government were anxious that all the conditions of the peace should be fully and fairly discussed, and thoroughly understood, before calling upon the nation to celebrate its rejoicings. It may be, that by postponing the event, we may have appeared to have ignored altogether the existence of electric telegraphs, and those other means of rapid communication and intercourse which were unknown at the last celebration of peace, and professed ourselves unable to believe any news which had not travelled through the old time-honoured channels of official routine.

“It may have been fitting that we should, as was done at Paris, command an illumination, and indulged in our fêtes, immediately the electric spark had conveyed to us the intelligence of the signature of the treaty. But there can be no doubt but that the public rejoicings of last night had more of real value and greater significance, because time had been allowed for calm reflection, and the people thoroughly understood what it was for which they were called upon to rejoice. A grand display of fireworks, such as that which has been for some time past announced, could hardly fail to draw together an immense number of spectators; and, while we would not confound the desire to witness a magnificent spectacle with an assent to the terms of the treaty of peace; still any person who mingled among the crowds would have abundant opportunities of learning from the general tone of the conversation that there was little or no dissatisfaction with the conditions upon which the peace had been obtained, which they were assembled to celebrate.

“Long before the shades of evening began to fall, the immense area of Hyde Park set apart for the public was crowded with a dense mass of individuals, the majority of whom, without, perhaps, either knowing or caring much about the occasion which had called them together, were resolved to be in time to secure good places to see the fireworks. Thousands had already congregated by two or three in the afternoon.

“Towards seven o’clock, all trees commanding a view of the enclosure where the fireworks were prepared had received their share of venturous climbers, whose good positions excited envy, and made them excellent marks, not merely for the jokes, but for the missiles of the vulgar crowd below. A perfect storm of turfs and sods, torn from the grass, was hurled at the people who swarmed the trees, many of whom were speedily dislodged; but others, who had secured the uppermost branches, remained possessors of their positions to the end. Foiled in their attempt to dislodge the arboreal class of spectators, the roughs commenced an indiscriminate assault on the crowd, hurling clods and pieces of turf among the more densely packed masses. The assailants became, in turn, the assailed, and many a long and annoying battle was waged, and no small share of angry feeling created by these discreditable proceedings. Any person with a decent coat or hat was sure to become a mark for the mischievous young urchins who indulged in those freaks, and it was only when some two or three persons had the good sense to administer a little wholesome chastisement to the young rascals, that temporary peace was secured.

“At length the hour of nine o’clock arrived, and a signal rocket sent up announced that the long expected display was about to commence, and it was immediately followed by a grand display of white, red, green and yellow fires, with a continuous discharge of maroons. Scarcely had the brilliant colours ceased, when 100 rockets went screeching and screaming through the air in their graceful course, and shell after shell exploded in rapid succession. Then came wheel pieces and gold streamers, and blue and yellow rockets and green and yellow shells; then pearl streamers, blue and yellow rockets, and serpents and yellow shells, and numbers of fixed pieces and tailed stars, and rocket wheels and Scotch stars, and parachutes and pearl rain, and twelve-pointed stars and crackers, and Saxon hoops and silver rain, and diamond pieces and looking glasses, and kaleidoscopes and Maltese crosses, and turning suns and tourbillons, and five-pointed lances and ten-stars, and a variety of other things known only to the initiated in the mystery of the pyrotechnic art.

“The beauty of the varied coloured showers of fire, the bold careering of the rockets, the graceful curves of the jerbes falling over like sheaves of wheat, formed a scene such as falls to the lot of a generation to witness but once only. The grand tableau, by some strange arrangement, instead of coming as a grand finale to the whole, was discharged about the middle of the proceedings; its effect was grand and effective in the extreme. By far the most imposing part of the spectacle was the aerial portion. The fixed pieces presented but little of novelty or grandeur, and several of them were scarcely worthy of the occasion. Two colossal fountains, showering around a golden shower, were remarkable for their splendour, and were among the most successful of any of the displays.

“Notwithstanding the enormous masses of people present, there was no vast pressure from the crowds except at the conclusion of the display, when the attempts made to pass through Grosvenor Gate, and the other outlets of the park, were attended with some of those fearful crushes which, somehow or other, appear to be inseparable from a London gathering. The houses of the nobility and others, looking on to the park, were illuminated in splendid style, and conspicuous among the whole of the adjoining mansions was that of Lord Ward, the whole front of the house being literally a blaze of gas jets, formed by lines following the architectural details of the building.”

Being present, I can vouch for the good behaviour of the crowd, also to the general harmlessness of the rocket-sticks, which fell among us in showers. But the light-fingered gentry reaped a great harvest. I, and all our party, lost our scarf-pins, and, on going to Bow Street next day to try and recover mine, a large iron tea-tray full of pins, taken from captured thieves, was brought, and I was told to pick out my own, but I could not find it. The fireworks were made at the Laboratory, Woolwich, and in such profusion that it was said there were enough over for another display.

CHAPTER X.
The Great Exhibition of 1851.

But what has rendered Hyde Park historically immortal is the choice of it as the site of the “Great Exhibition of the Industry of all Nations,” in 1851, an institution which was claimed to have been foreseen by Chaucer, as evidenced by portions scattered at wide intervals over his Book of Fame.[36]

“But as I slepte / me mette I was
Wythin a temple y made of glas
In whyche / there were mo ymages
Of gold / standyng in dyuers stages
And mo ryche tabernacles
And with perle / mo pynnacles
And mo ryche portretures
And quaynt maner of fygures
Of gold werke / than I sawe euer
. . . . . . . . . .
Tho sawe I stonde on thother syde
Strayt doun to the doris wyde
From the deys[37] many a pyler
Of metal that shone not ful cleer
. . . . . . . . . .
Tho gan I loke aboute me and see
That ther come entryng in to the halle
A ryght grete company wyth alle
And that of sondry regyons
Of alle kyns condicions
That dwelle in erthe under the mone
Poure and ryche.
. . . . . . . . . .
But whyche a grete congregacioun
Of folke / as I sawe come aboute
Some wythin and some wythoute
Nas never seen ne shal be ofte.”

The Society of Arts organized a small exhibition of manufactures in 1847, at their rooms, which attracted much attention, so much, indeed, that in 1848 they had an exhibition of pottery, and in 1849 one chiefly of works in the precious metals. These shows were so successful, that it was felt that something should be attempted on a far larger scale, and it is now, I believe, generally conceded that the conception of the Great Exhibition of 1851 was due to Mr. F. Wishaw. Secretary to the Society of Arts. True it is that Prince Albert is generally credited with the idea, but this arose from the fact that he took a leading part in the movement, as President of the Society.

In this capacity he was kept fully informed of what the Society were doing; but immediately after the termination of the Session of 1849 he took the subject under his own personal superintendence. He proceeded to settle the general principles on which the proposed exhibition of 1851 should be conducted, and to consider the mode in which it should be carried out. On the 29th June, 1849, the general outlines of the Exhibition were discussed by his Royal Highness, and a portion of the minutes of a meeting of several members of the Society of Arts, held at Buckingham Palace on the 30th of June, is as follows:—

“His Royal Highness communicated his views regarding the formation of a Great Collection of Works of Industry and Art in London in 1851, for the purpose of exhibition, and of competition and encouragement.

“His Royal Highness considered that such Collection and Exhibition should consist of the following divisions:

Raw Materials.
Machinery and Mechanical Inventions.
Manufactures.
Sculpture and Plastic Art generally.

“It was a matter of consideration whether such divisions should be made subjects of simultaneous exhibition, or to be taken separately. It was ultimately settled that, on the first occasion, at least, they should be simultaneous.

“Various sites were suggested as most suitable to the building, which it was settled must be, on the first occasion at least, a temporary one. The Government had offered the area of Somerset House; or, if that were unfit, a more suitable site on the property of the Crown. His Royal Highness pointed out the vacant ground in Hyde Park on the south side, parallel with, and between the Kensington drive and the ride commonly called Rotten Row, as affording advantages which few other places might be found to possess. Application for this site could be made to the Crown.”

Besides Somerset House, the Commissioners had to consider the merits of other sites proposed for the Exhibition, among which may be named Leicester Square, Trafalgar Square, the Isle of Dogs, Battersea Fields, and Regent’s Park; but they selected, after the most careful consideration, that of Hyde Park, and the building occupied a site between the two roads, the eastern end of the building being exactly in the centre of the Knightsbridge Barracks, and its western end reached very nearly to Exhibition Road; and possession of this ground was given to the contractors on 30th July, 1850.

On January 3rd, 1850, a Royal Commission was appointed to carry out the proposed Exhibition, and the following were the members. The Prince Consort, Duke of Buccleugh, Earls of Rosse, Granville and Ellesmere, Lords Stanley and John Russell, Sir Robert Peel, Henry Labouchere, W. E. Gladstone, Sir A. Galloway (or the Chairman of the Court of Directors of the East India Company for the time being), Sir R. Westmacott, Sir Charles Lyell (or the President of the Geological Society for the time being), Charles L. Eastlake, Thomas F. Gibson, Richard Cobden, William Cubitt (or the President of the Institution of Civil Engineers for the time being), John Gott, Samuel Jones Loyd, P. Pusey and William Thompson. They were “to make full and diligent inquiry into the best mode by which the productions of our Colonies, and of foreign countries may be introduced into our Kingdom; as respects the most suitable site for the said Exhibition; the general conduct of the said Exhibition; and, also, the best mode of determining the prizes, and of securing the most impartial distribution of them.” John Scott Russell and Stafford Henry Northcote were appointed joint secretaries, and an executive committee was formed, consisting of Henry Cole, Charles Wentworth Dilke, George Drew, Francis Fuller, and Robert Stephenson, with Matthew Digby Wyatt as secretary.

The story of the building is succinctly told by Sir Henry Cole in his Introduction to the Official Catalogue. “The Committee ventured at once to recommend that upwards of 16 acres should be covered in; a bold step at that time (Feb. 21) when no data whatever of the space likely to be filled had been received. It was their opinion that it was desirable to obtain suggestions, by public competition, as to the general arrangements of the ground-plan of the building, and public invitations were accordingly issued.... In answer to the invitation to send in plans, upwards of 245 designs and specifications were submitted.... All these plans were publicly exhibited during a month, from the 10th of June, at the Institution of Civil Engineers, Great George Street, Westminster.... The Committee reported that, in their opinion, there was no ‘single plan so accordant with the peculiar objects in view, either in the principle, or detail of its arrangement, as to warrant them in recommending it for adoption.’

“They, therefore, submitted a plan of their own; and, assisted by Mr. Digby Wyatt, Mr. Charles Heard Wild, and Mr. Owen Jones, they prepared extensive working drawings, which were lithographed.... The Building Committee published in detail the reasons, both of economy and taste, which had induced them to prepare plans for a structure of brick, the principle feature of which was a dome two hundred feet in diameter. Public opinion did not coincide in the propriety of such a building, on such a site, and the residents in the neighbourhood raised especial objections. The subject was brought before both Houses of Parliament; and, in the House of Commons, on the 4th July, 1850, two divisions took place on the question, whether the proposed site should be used at all for any building for the Exhibition. In the one division the numbers in favour of the site were 166 to 47, and, in the second, 166 to 46. The Commissioners published at considerable length a statement of the reasons which had induced them to prefer the site, and there can be no doubt that the force of this document mainly influenced the large majority in both divisions.

“Whilst the plan of the Building Committee was under discussion, Mr. Paxton was led, by the hostility which it had incurred, to submit a plan for a structure chiefly of glass and iron, on principles similar to those which had been adopted and successfully tried by him at Chatsworth. Messrs. Fox, Henderson, and Company tendered for the erection of the Building Committee’s plan, and strictly in accordance with the conditions of tender: they also submitted estimates for the construction of the building suggested by Mr. Paxton, and adapted in form to the official ground-plan. An engraving of Mr. Paxton’s original design was published in the Illustrated London News, 6th July, 1850, which, when compared with the building that has actually been erected, will show what changes were subsequently made. The Commissioners having fully investigated the subject, finally adopted, on the 26th July, Messrs. Fox, Henderson and Company’s tender to construct Mr. Paxton’s building as then proposed, for the sum of £79,800.”

The first iron column was fixed as early as the 26th September, 1850, and the building was ready for opening on May 1st, 1851. It covered an area of 18 acres, was 1850 feet long, 408 feet wide, and 64 feet high, irrespective of the arched roof of the transept; and in order to put it familiarly before people, Mr. Fox, at a dinner given to him at Derby, June 28th, 1851, said, “I walked out one evening into Portland Place; and there, setting off the 1850 feet upon the pavement, found it the same length within a few yards; and then, considering that the building would be three times the width of that fine street, and the nave as high as the houses on either side, I had presented to my mind a pretty good idea of what we were about to undertake.”

It was also part of the contract that the building was removed and the site given up within seven months after the close of the Exhibition, namely before the 1st of June, 1852; which was duly done, and the building re-erected at Norwood, where it still is in existence under the name of the Crystal Palace.

The Mr. (afterwards Sir) Joseph Paxton, who designed the building, was head gardener to the Duke of Devonshire at Chatsworth, where the glass-houses are the wonder and admiration of all who behold them; and he may as well tell the story of how he came to be mixed up with the Great Exhibition, in the same words as he told it at a meeting of the Derby Institute.

“It was not,” said he, “until one morning, when I was present with my friend, Mr. Ellis, at an early sitting in the House of Commons, that the idea of sending in a design occurred to me. A conversation took place between us with reference to the construction of the New House of Commons, in the course of which I observed that I was afraid they would also commit a blunder in the building for the Industrial Exhibition. I told him that I had a notion in my head, and that if he would accompany me to the Board of Trade, I would ascertain whether it was too late to send in a design. I asked the Executive Committee whether they were so far committed to the plans as to be precluded from receiving another; the reply was, ‘Certainly not; the specifications will be out in a fortnight, but there is no reason why a clause should not be introduced allowing of the reception of another design.’ I said, ‘Well, if you will introduce such a clause, I will go home; and, in nine days hence, I will bring you my plans all complete.’ No doubt the Executive thought me a conceited fellow, and that what I said was nearer akin to romance than to common sense.

“Well! this was on Friday, the 11th of June. From London I went to the Menai Straits, to see the third tube of the Britannia Bridge placed, and on my return to Derby, I had to attend to some business in the Board Room, during which time, however, my whole mind was devoted to this project; and whilst the business proceeded, I sketched the outline of my design on a large sheet of blotting paper. Well! having sketched this design, I sat up all night, until I had worked it out to my own satisfaction; and, by the aid of my friend, Mr. Barlow, on the 15th, I was enabled to complete the whole of the plans by the Saturday following, on which day I left Rowsley for London.

“On arriving at the Derby Station, I met Mr. Robert Stephenson, a member of the Building Committee, who was also on his way to the Metropolis. Mr. Stephenson minutely examined the plans, and became thoroughly engrossed with them, until, at length, he exclaimed that the design was just the thing, and he only wished that it had been submitted to the Committee in time. Mr. Stephenson, however, laid the plans before the Committee, and at first the idea was rather pooh-poohed; but the plans gradually grew in favour, and by publishing the design in the Illustrated London News, and showing the advantage of such an erection over one composed of fifteen millions of bricks and other materials, which would have to be removed at a great loss, the Committee did, in the end, reject the abortion of a child of their own, and unanimously recommended my bantling. I am bound to say that I have been treated by the Committee with great fairness.

“Mr. Brunel, the author of the great dome, I believe was, at first, so wedded to his own plan, that he would hardly look at mine. But Mr. Brunel was a gentleman, and a man of fairness, and listened with every attention to all that could be urged in favour of my plans. As an instance of that gentleman’s very creditable conduct, I will mention, that a difficulty presented itself to the Committee as to what should be done with the large trees, and it was gravely suggested that they should be walled in. I remarked that I could cover the trees without any difficulty; when Mr. Brunel asked, ‘Do you know their height?’ I acknowledged that I did not. On the following morning, Mr. Brunel called at Devonshire House, and gave

me the measurement of the trees, which he had taken early in the morning, adding, ‘Although I mean to try to win with my own plan, I will give you all the information I can.’ ”

These trees caused a happy modification of Paxton’s plan, and to them we owe the transept, which redeemed the building from being a long and ugly glass shed. As it was, the trees suffered no damage, and really were a very effective feature in the Exhibition. Some other and smaller trees were cut down, which were thus bemoaned by Punch.[38]

“Albert! Spare those Trees.

“Albert! spare those trees,
Mind where you fix your show;
For mercy’s sake, don’t, please,
Go spoiling Rotten Row.

“That Ride, that famous ride,
We must not have destroyed,
For, ne’er to be supplied,
Its loss will leave a void.

“Oh! certainly there might
Be for your purpose found
A more congenial site
Than Hyde Park’s hallowed ground.

“Where Fashion rides and drives,
House not Industrial Art;
But, ’mid the busy hives
Right in the City’s heart.

“And, is it thy request
The place that I’d point out?
Then I should say the best
Were Smithfield, without doubt.

“There, by all votes approved,
The wide world’s wares display,
The Market first removed
For ever and a day.”

Prince Albert’s academic cap is typical of his being LL.D. and Chancellor of Cambridge; and the singular-looking being addressing him is a staunch and bigoted Tory, whom Punch delighted to caricature, Colonel Charles de Laet Waldo Sibthorp, M.P. for Lincoln, whose opposition to the Exhibition of 1851 amounted almost to mania. Take, for instance, the following quotation from a speech of his in the House of Commons on the subject (26 July, 1850):—

“Hyde Park was emphatically the Park of the People, and it was now proposed to be devoted to purposes which he must hold to be prejudicial to the people in a moral, religious, and social point of view. It was sought to appropriate it to the encouragement of—what? To the encouragement of everything calculated to be prejudicial to the interests of the people. An exhibition of the industry of all nations, forsooth! An exhibition of the trumpery and trash of foreign countries, to the detriment of our own already too much oppressed manufacturers.... They were flying in the face of the rights of the public merely to gratify the foreigner, who had no right to be here at all.”

On another occasion he said, “They might call it success, but he called it failure. He did not wish to see that building destroyed by any acts of violence, but would to God that some hailstorm, or some visitation of lightning, might descend to defeat the ill-advised project.” For this he had to sit for his portrait once again. Punch, 15th February, 1851.

On the opening day of the Exhibition, Parliament sat afterwards, at 6 p.m., and, in the course of a debate on the “Oath of Abjuration (Jews) Bill,” Colonel Sibthorp told the House that “He was not present at the Crystal Palace. He felt that his duty to God and his country demanded of him that he should not go there, and he deeply regretted that an eminent prelate of the Church should have been induced to invoke a blessing on that which he (Colonel S.) considered most injurious to the interests of the country and an insult to Almighty God.”

But if Colonel Sibthorp took a pessimistic view of the Exhibition, others held equally optimistic opinions respecting it. It was going to inaugurate a sort of Millennium and a general brotherhood of nations: war was to cease, and all countries were to vie with each other in cultivating the arts of peace. The following song will show the drivel they used to sing about it in the streets.

Crystal Palace.
Britannia’s sons an attentive ear
One moment lend to me,
Whether tillers of our fruitful soil,
Or lords of high degree.
Mechanic too, and artizan,
Old England’s pride and boast,
Whose wondrous skill has spread around
Far, far from Britain’s coast.

Chorus.

For the World’s great Exhibition,
Let’s shout with loud huzza,
All nations can never forget
The glorious first of May.

From every quarter of the globe
They come across the sea,
And to the Crystal Palace
The wonders for to see;
Raised by the handiwork of men
Born on British ground,
A challenge to the Universe
Its equal to be found.

Each friendly nation in the world
Have their assistance lent,
And to this Exhibition
Have their productions sent;
And with honest zeal and ardour,
With pleasure do repair,
With hands outstretch’d, and gait erect,
To the World’s Great National Fair.

The sons of England and of France,
And America likewise,
With other nations to contend
To bear away the prize,
With pride depicted in their eyes,
View the offspring of their hand:
O, surely England’s greatest wealth
Is an honest working man.

It is a glorious sight to see
So many thousands meet,
Not heeding creed or country,
Each other friendly greet.
Like children of one mighty sire,
May that sacred tie ne’er cease;
May the blood-stained sword of War give way
To the Olive-branch of peace.

But, hark! the trumpets flourish,
Victoria does approach,
That she may long be spared to us
Shall be our reigning toast.
I trust each heart it will respond
To what I now propose—
Good-will and plenty to her friends,
And confusion to her foes.

Great praise is due to Albert,
For the good that he has done,
May others follow in his steps
The work he has begun;
Then let us all, with one accord,
His name give with three cheers,
Shout huzza for the Crystal Palace,
And the World’s great National Fair!

The Exhibition was opened on the first of May, and, as over forty years have passed since then, a good account of the ceremony will, doubtless, be grateful to very many of my readers, whilst to those who are old enough to remember it, it will be a pleasing reminiscence. Forsan et hæc olim meminisse juvabit. The following is condensed from The Times of May 2nd, 1851.

“That the ceremonial of the opening may be distinctly understood, let us sketch, as rapidly as possible, the appearance of the interior about half-past 11 o’clock, when the doors closed and admission ceased. In the north half of the transept, and grouped around the throne, were assembled the Royal Commission, Her Majesty’s Ministers, the Executive Committee, the Diplomatic Corps, the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen of the City, the Commissioners of Foreign Powers, the Special Commissioners, Dr. Lyon Playfair and Colonel Lloyd, the architect, Mr. Paxton, the contractors, Messrs. Fox and Henderson, and the principal officers of the Executive, including Messrs. Digby Wyatt, Owen Jones and C. H. Wild. A list of the great and distinguished persons present would only be a repetition to the public of names with which they are familiar, and we, who have watched, from the commencement, the progress of this great undertaking, think it only justice, in describing an event such as that which occurred yesterday, that those who, by their energy and skill, have contributed to the success which has been accomplished, should chiefly be remembered.

“Let us look at that assemblage for a few minutes, and see what meaning we can gather from their movements. They are nearly all in Court dresses, and, in some instances, the experienced eye can detect the awkwardness of manner which such unwonted habiliments superinduce. While they chat together, other characters appear on the scene.

“The Heralds come—a curious mixture of the ancient and modern; one half of their personelle strictly à la mode, the rest, a tabard covered with mediæval escutcheons and devices. Notwithstanding recent retrenchments, the Beef-eaters showed themselves yesterday in great strength, health and corpulence; and some of them, for size, might bear comparison with the giant porter of ‘Queen Bess.’ Officers of the Household troops appeared on the scene at an early hour, their showy uniforms heightening the effect, and giving brilliancy to the whole assemblage. The galleries which run along the northern half of the transept had been, to some extent, reserved for choristers and for families of distinction.

“Almost the first person who arrived here was the Duke of Devonshire. His name is closely connected with the design and progress of the Exhibition, and his presence was recognized by a large number of persons. The next arrival that attracted any interest was that of the Duke of Wellington. It was his 82nd birthday. As usual, he came early, and the loud cheers which announced his coming outside were enthusiastic and protracted as he took his place in the north-eastern gallery of the transept. Thence, after a short interval, he descended to the area below, and, again, his presence was hailed with repeated acclamations. After conversing for some time with the Marquis of Anglesey, he turned his attention to the practical men, to whose well-directed skill and energy the magnificent display before him must be attributed. He complimented Mr. Fox and Mr. Paxton, and talked with them both for some time. He conversed with Mr. Cobden, and was engaged in close confabulation with the Marquis of Anglesey, when, to the immense amusement of everybody, a Chinese mandarin, with a tail of fabulous length, appeared before them.[39] He saluted them both in the Oriental style, and, though he did not venture to exchange one observation with them, he hovered around their chairs for some time, expressing, by his looks, the interest which he felt in the presence of persons so distinguished. This live importation from the Celestial Empire managed to render himself extremely conspicuous, and one could not help admiring the perfect composure and nonchalance of manner which distinguished him. He talked with nobody, yet he seemed perfectly at home, and on the most friendly terms with all. The great variety of uniforms and costumes worn by the assemblage collected in the space around the throne, and the remarkable manner in which the proportions and decorative arrangements of the building brought out their position, rendered the spectacle which the north side of the transept presented a very imposing one.

“Seated apart from the throng, and accompanied by his chaplains, might be observed the Archbishop of Canterbury, and, not far off, the Bishop of Winchester, who, in the absence of the Bishop of London, appeared as senior suffragan of the province. The Lord Chancellor was also conspicuous in the assemblage, and our Civic dignitaries, in their flaunting scarlet robes, enjoyed their full share of public attention.

“A chair, selected from the Indian collection, and over which a magnificent scarlet velvet elephant cloth, richly brocaded, was placed as a covering, served as a throne. In front of the raised dais on which it was placed rose the splendid crystal fountain of Mr. Osler, the appropriate centrepiece of a Palace of Glass. This object had, previously, been concealed from public view, and its beauty and artistic design captivated everybody. It is 27 feet high, contains four tons of crystal, and is a work of which its exhibitor may well be proud.

“And now let us turn from the scene which the area of the north transept presented, to the aspect of the building generally. After all, there is no decoration which a building can possess which equals that presented by a vast and well arranged assemblage of people. Living masses convey to a great structure a character of animation, which no inanimate objects, however beautiful, can supply. The long lines of faces lighted up with excitement, the diversities of dress and ornament, of themselves furnish subjects for inexhaustible reflection; and when they are so disposed that the fairer portions of humanity have the precedence, and occupy the first rank, the scene presented appeals directly to the gallantry and enthusiasm of the spectator. So it was yesterday. The seats, which on either side lined the nave and its galleries, were reserved exclusively for ladies; and thus, standing in the centre of the building, one could see stretching from that point, east and west, north and south, long lines of elegantly dressed women, the verge and binding of an assemblage which comprised not less than 25,000 people.

“It was originally contemplated that the centre of the nave should remain entirely unoccupied; but, as we anticipated, this arrangement was found, at the last moment, impracticable; and thus her Majesty and the State procession were left to make their progress between living walls of loyal subjects and admiring foreigners, extending in long lines from one end of the buildings to the other.

“The hour hands of the clocks with which the Crystal Palace is decorated were approaching 12 when the faint huzzahs of crowds outside announced that the Queen had arrived; the booming sound of a Royal Salute from across the Serpentine struck faintly on the ear, and then a loud flourish of trumpets from the north gallery of the transept told that her Majesty had entered the building. She was conducted, at once, to the robing room. Thence, after a short pause, and attended by her Court, she proceeded, between flower-stands and tropical plants, past the Colebrook Dale gates, and the fountains and statuary with which that part of the edifice is adorned, to the throne in the centre.

“On her appearance, the vast assemblage rose to welcome her, a burst of enthusiastic cheering broke forth from every side—ladies waved their handkerchiefs, gentlemen their hats, and the whole scene presented was of unusual splendour. The sun, too, for a moment, emerged from the envious clouds that for some time previously had dimmed his lustre, and a flood of light pouring in through the glistening dome of the transept, illuminated this imposing spectacle of loyalty. When her Majesty ascended the throne, attended by the Royal family and the distinguished visitors of her Court, the organ of Messrs. Grey and Davison pealed forth the notes of the National Anthem, and the immense choir, collected for the occasion, accompanied the strain. This produced a grand effect, and not a heart present could remain unmoved at a scene so touching and so sublime. His Royal Highness Prince Albert, when the music had ceased, joined the Royal Commissioners, who drew near to the throne, and read to her Majesty a long report of the proceedings of the Commissioners, to which the Queen suitably, but briefly, replied. His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury then approached the throne, and, with great fervency of manner, offered a prayer, invoking God’s blessing on the undertaking.

“At the close of this prayer the choir joined in singing the Hallelujah Chorus, and the effect of this performance may be estimated from the fact that the Chapel Royal, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, and St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, contributed their entire vocal strength, while there were also present pupils of the Royal Academy of Music, part of the band of the Sacred Harmonic Society, and many other performers, both foreign and English. The vast area of the building left free scope for the volume of sound poured forth, and the assembled multitudes, their feelings already elevated by the grandeur of the spectacle before them, listened with becoming reverence to the triumphant music of the great German composer.

“It was at this stage of the proceedings that the Chinese already alluded to, and whom we discover to be no less a person than the Mandarin He-sing, of the Chinese junk, unable any longer to control his feelings, made his way through foreign diplomatists, Ministers of State, and the distinguished circle with which Court etiquette had surrounded the throne, and, advancing close to her Majesty, saluted her by a grand salaam, which she most graciously acknowledged.

“A procession was then formed, which, turning to the right, moved to the west end of the nave on the north side, and, as it passed, the glazed roof of the building vibrated with enthusiastic cheers. Down a deep lane of human beings, full of loyal expectancy, it passed—her Majesty and the Prince, preceded by the Lord Steward and the Lord Chamberlain, their faces turned towards the Royal personages, and their feet performing that curious movement, known only at Courts—namely, advancing backwards.

“The coup d’œil varied at every step, yet was always picturesque and beautiful. The foreign Commissioners, whose labours had hitherto confined them to their own department of the Exhibition, gazed with wonder at the development of British industry by which they found themselves surrounded. Even those most acquainted with the objects that lay on either side the route, were surprised by the new and undiscovered attractions which everywhere presented themselves. The Indian and Colonial collections were left behind, the Fine Arts Courts passed, and the procession, cheered incessantly in its progress, moved into the area devoted to our many featured manufacturing products. Glimpses were caught, over the heads of the spectators, on the right, of the Furniture Court, and the massive forms of the fixed machinery beyond it. On the left, the Colebrook Dale dome, the gigantic statues of Lords Eldon and Stowell, the well known form of our great dramatist, and many other objects which adorn the centre aisle, were left behind.

“Past the furs of bears and other wild animals, suspended from many a girder, and carpets lending their brilliant colours to complete the decorations, and clothe the narrow lines of the interior, the pageant swept on its way. It reached the western entrance, and saw itself reflected in the immense mirror exhibited at this point. Then wheeling round the model of the Liverpool Docks, it was returning on the south side of the nave, when the gigantic organ, by Willis, suddenly hurled forth its immense volume of sound. The effect was extremely fine, but there was so much to think of, so many points to observe, and the admiration of all had already been so largely taxed, that each new, telling characteristic of the progress scarcely produced its deserved impression.

“At length the procession reached the transept, round the south end of which it proceeded, and then swept into the foreign department of the Exhibition. Here, immense efforts had been made to prepare for its suitable reception. France had collected the choicest specimens of her manufactures; and, though only two days ago her division was in confusion, and the possibility of her taking a suitable part in the opening pageant doubtful, one could not help admiring the tasteful manner in which her exhibitors had decorated the portion of their collection which was within sight. Other countries, more forward in their preparations, were, of course, able to make a more satisfactory appearance. The great attention which the industrial communities of Europe bestow on matters of artistic design and of ornamental manufactures, enabled them to decorate their divisions of the nave in a manner more effective than we, with our utilitarian tendencies, could hope to achieve.

“Amid a rare collection of various objects, the procession moved forward, received everywhere with loud acclamations. The French organ, by Du Croquet, and that from Erfurt, by Schulze, each in turn poured forth its music: and, as the pageant rounded the eastern end of the building, the bands of the Coldstream and Scots Fusileer Guards varied the performance by their spirit-stirring strains. The return along the north side of the nave renewed the enthusiasm of the foreigners and visitors assembled there. The cheering and waving of hats and handkerchiefs went on continuously around the building; and at last, having completed a progress more triumphant in its peacefulness and spirit of goodwill than the proudest warlike pageant that ever ascended the Capitol of ancient Rome, the Queen returned once more to the position in the transept where her throne was placed. She looked exceedingly well, and bore the excitement of the occasion with a firmness worthy of herself and of the people she governs. The applause of the assemblage was acknowledged both by herself and the Prince in the most gracious manner.

“His Royal Highness appeared less composed than her Majesty, and his emotion was visible when the ceremony and the procession had been happily conducted to its close. It was natural that he should feel strongly the termination of a spectacle, the grandest, perhaps, that the world ever saw, and with which his name and reputation are, henceforth, inseparably associated. He wore a field marshal’s uniform, and the Prince of Wales the Highland dress. The Queen wore a dress of pink watered silk, brocaded with silver, trimmed with pink ribands and blonde, and ornamented with diamonds. Diamonds and feathers formed the headdress. Her Majesty wore the riband and George of the Order of the Garter, and the Garter of the Order as an armlet. Her Royal Highness, the Princess Royal, wore a white satin slip, with two skirts of Nottingham lace, and had round her head a wreath of pale pink wild roses. The Royal children were objects of great attention, and the Prince of Wales received special cheers from the assemblage.

“And now the last act of the ceremonial remains to be recorded. The Marquis of Breadalbane, in a loud tone of voice, announced that the Queen declared ‘the Exhibition open.’ A flourish of trumpets proclaimed the fact to the assembled multitudes. The Royal family, attended by the Court, withdrew from the building; the choir once more took up the strains of the National Anthem; the barriers, which had hitherto restrained the spectators within certain limits, were withdrawn, and the long pent-up masses poured over every part of the building, unrestrained by policemen, and eager to gratify their curiosity.”

Thus was opened the Great Exhibition of 1851—and it speaks volumes for the good behaviour of the crowd, that, at Westminster Police Court, in which district the Crystal Palace was, there was, next day, only one charge having the least reference to the Exhibition, in which a London artizan was fined 10s. for a trifling assault upon the police, for which he expressed his contrition.

There must have been an especial glamour about this Exhibition, probably because it was the first of its kind, but I have never yet met with anybody who saw it, and all succeeding ones, but who, like myself, awards it the palm above all.

After having been open to the public for 141 days, it was closed on the 11th October. There was no ceremony, the only incident which marked the event being that, at 5 p.m., all the organs in the building played “God save the Queen,” accompanied by many voices in all parts of the crowded avenues; after which, a bell was rung, warning the visitors to depart. On the 13th and 14th it was open to exhibitors and their friends, who were admitted by tickets, without charge. On the 15th the history of the Great Exhibition was brought to an end, with a slight business-like ceremony, in which Prince Albert, as the President, received the reports of the juries, and made a speech in reply. This took place on a temporary dais, in the middle of the transept (the crystal fountain having been previously removed), and the whole building was crowded with exhibitors and others, admitted by tickets. This little ceremony over, the National Anthem was sung; after which the Bishop of London read a prayer of thanksgiving. This was followed by the Hallelujah Chorus, at the close of which the Prince and commissioners left the platform, and the business of the day terminated.

In a pecuniary point of view, it was a great success, the grand total of cash received being, according to a report of the Royal Commissioners, 6th November, £505,000, leaving an available surplus, after defraying all expenses, of £150,000. This was invested in land at South Kensington, where it provided a site for the Albert Hall, several exhibitions, the Natural History Department of the British Museum, the Imperial Institute, etc.

Concerning this money there are some curious facts. Of the money received at the doors £275,000 was in silver, and £81,000 in gold. The weight of the silver coin so taken (at the rate of 28 lbs. per £100) would be 35 tons, and its bulk 900 cubic feet. The rapid flow of the coin into the hands of the money-takers prevented an examination of each piece as it was received, and £90 of bad silver was taken, but only one piece of bad gold, and that was a half-sovereign. The half-crown was the most usual bad coin, but a much more noticeable fact is that nearly all the bad money was taken on the half-crown and five shilling days. The cash was received by eighteen money-takers; on the very heavy days six extra ones being employed during the busiest hours. From them it was gathered by three or four money porters, who carried it to four collectors, charged with the task of counting it. From them it went to two tellers, who verified the sums, and handed it to the final custody of the chief financial officer, who locked each day’s amount in his peculiar iron chests, in the building, till next morning, when, in boxes, each holding £600, it was borne off in a hackney cab, in charge of a Bank of England clerk and a bank porter. The money was received in all forms, ranging between farthings and ten pound notes. Contrary to the notices exhibited, change was given. Occasionally foreigners gave Napoleons, and these coins being mistaken for sovereigns, they received nineteen shillings out, and liberty of admission into the bargain. The moneys of America, Hamburg, and France were often tendered and taken.

To wind up this notice of the Great Exhibition, I may say that the total number of visitors, from the 1st of May to the 11th of October, was 6,063,986.