projecting part of the esplanade below the Taj Hotel. Here Royalties are
in the habit of landing and embarking. On the centre has been built
something in the nature of a triumphal arch with eastern arches and
minarets at its four corners with golden domes. It is all white, and
between it and the pavilion at the landing stairs a great awning, or
Shamiana is stretched, of broad red and white striped cloth. Everywhere
are waving flags from golden spears, and little palms and shrubs in
green tubs are arranged on either side of the Shamiana; and the effect
is quite pretty; but considering the historic importance of the occasion
and the natural suitability of the surroundings for a Royal landing, the
conception and arrangement of spectacular effect was astoundingly
poor--and it must be admitted it is a mistake to hide the principal
actors at the most telling point of a momentous event with bunting and
shrubs in pots, or both! The actual landing, the stepping on shore,
should have been pictorial and visible to the thousands of spectators.
Instead of this, the Royal personages, the moment they stepped ashore,
were conducted into this tent, to listen to written speeches! What an
occasion for a great spectacular effect lost for ever!

When we got down to the Bundar the Sikh cavalry had dismounted and stood
at their horses' heads; their dark blue and dark rose uniforms and
turbans made a foil to the brilliant dresses of the crowd.

After witnessing the departure of the Prince, we sat a breathing space
on the lawn at the Yacht Club and watched the day fading, "Evening
falling, shadows rising," and the ladies dresses growing faint in
colour, as the background of the Bay and the white men-of-war became
less distinct; the golden evening light crept up the lateen sails in
front of us and left them all grey, and the moon rose beyond the Bay,
and the club lamps were lit, and the guns began to play--vivid flashes
of flame; and a roar round the fleet, straight in our faces, and again
far over to Elephanta, yellow flashes in the violet twilight, and the
Prince came ashore.

The cavalry and their lances at once follow his carriage; they are
silhouetted against the last of gold in the west, flicker across the
lamps of the Bundar, and rattle away into the shadows of the streets.
There is the noise of many horses feet and harness, and the last of the
guns from the fleet. Then the night is quiet again and hot as ever, and
there's nothing left