Westward with the Prince of Wales

by W. Douglas Newton

And when he began to speak—after the nimble scintillations of Mr. Chauncey Depew—they gave him another. And they rose up in a body, and moved inward from the distant rooms to be within earshot—a sight for the Messenger in Macbeth, for he would have seen a moving grove of golden chair legs, held on high, as the diners marched with their seating accommodation held above their heads.

Crowds again under the vivid lights of the streets, as the Prince drove to the mighty crowd waiting for him in the Hippodrome. The Hippodrome is one of the largest, if it is not the largest, music-hall in the world. It has an enormous sweep of floor, and an enormous sweep of galleries. The huge space of it takes the breath away. It was packed.

As the Prince entered his box, floor and galleries rose up with a sudden and tremendous surge, and sent a mighty shout to him. The National Anthems of England and America were obliterated in the gust of affectionate noise. Minutes elapsed before that great audience remembered that it was at the play, and that the Prince had come to see the play. It sat down reluctantly, saving itself for his departure, watching him as he entered into enjoyment of the brave and grandiose spectacular show on the stage.

And when he rose to go the audience loosed itself again. It held him there with the power of its cheering. It would not let him stir from the building until it had had a word from him. It was dominant, it had its way. In answer to the splendid outburst the Prince could do nothing but come to the edge of his box and speak.

In a clear voice that was heard all over the building he thanked them for the wonderful reception he had received that night, and in New York during the week. "I thank you," he said, "and I bid you all good night."

Then he went out into the cheering streets.

It was an astonishing display in the street. The throng was so dense, the shouting so great that the sound of it drove into the silent houses of other theatres. And the audiences in those other theatres caught the thrill of it. They "cut" their plays, came pouring out into the street to join the throng and the cheering; it was through this carnival of affection that the Prince drove along the streets to a reception, and a brilliant one, given by Mr. Wanamaker, whose ability as Chairman of the Reception Committee had largely helped to make the Prince's visit to New York so startling a success.

VIII

On that note of splendid friendliness the Prince's too short stay in America ended. On Saturday, November 22nd, he held a reception on Renown, saying good-bye to endless lines of friendly people of all classes and races who thronged the great war vessel.

All these people crowded about the Prince and seemed loth to part with him, and he seemed just as unwilling to break off an intimacy only just begun. Only inexorable time and the Admiralty ended the scene, and the great ship with its escort of small, lean war-craft moved seaward along the cheering shore.