On June 11 the official programme was published, and henceforth the sole topic in men’s minds was Jubilee Day and its doings. Previous to this, however, the most elaborate precautions had been taken to ensure the safety of the multitude of sightseers, and to guard against any hitch occurring in the actual procession.
Meanwhile the guests of the Nation began to arrive from every part of the World. The Prime Ministers of our great dependencies in Australasia, in South Africa, and Canada, were lodged in the palatial Hotel Cecil; the foreign princes and their suites were accommodated in the Royal Palaces and in private mansions rented or lent for the occasion, while the detachments of troops from the various self-governing and Crown Colonies were billeted at Chelsea Hospital, at Hounslow, and at Woolwich. The Indian officers composing the deputation from the Imperial Service Troops, and the British officers in charge, were lodged at the “Star and Garter” Hotel at Richmond. It is impossible to convey any impression of the hospitality that was now lavished on our honoured guests. While the troopers of the Colonial forces were being fêted by Tommy Atkins and the Volunteers of London, the Colonial Premiers were the lions of the great houses of the Metropolis. “He died from the effects of British hospitality” is the humorous epitaph composed for himself, in the event of that casualty, by the Right Honourable G. H. Reid, Premier of New South Wales. Royal carriages and Royal servants were placed at the disposal of visitors of high rank; but it is certain that the genuine enthusiasm of their reception among the millions of London was even more highly valued by our distinguished visitors than these marks of Royal favour.
THE ROYAL TRAIN ON THE GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY, SPECIALLY FITTED UP FOR THE JUBILEE OCCASION.
While the good citizens of London were entertaining the guests of the Nation and getting their houses in order for the culminating function of June 22, there was ever present in their minds a fear lest the great festival would be marred by a catastrophe such as that which threw a black shadow over the Coronation of the Czar. It was vaguely felt that the vast multitudes that would throng the streets on that day might become unmanageable—that some of the temporary stands would collapse, or that the great pressure of the massed crowds at certain points would result in disaster. |Precautions against Accidents.| It is due entirely to the sagacity and foresight of the authorities that the streets were never more safe than they were on June 22, and that not a single life was lost in consequence of the Jubilee arrangements. Temporary stands were examined—and where faulty condemned—again and again by the officials of the London County Council and of the Corporation, and the most scrupulous care was taken that there should not be gathered at any one point a larger number of persons than could be easily controlled.
INTERIOR OF THE ROYAL TRAIN.
The smaller picture shows the break-van and kitchen, with the gas stove at which refreshments are prepared for Her Majesty’s use while travelling. The larger illustration represents the interior of the Queen’s saloon; in the picture at the top of this page it is the third carriage from the engine. This saloon is lined, and its furniture covered, with blue silk; it communicates by an enclosed gangway with that of Her Majesty’s personal attendants.
At an early stage in the proceedings the police decided to close the great bridges connecting the north of London with the south. London Bridge was closed at midnight on Jubilee Eve, the other bridges were closed a few hours later, the idea being to prevent a possible great and dangerous rush from north to south of the Thames to view the procession both on the Middlesex and Surrey sides.
