Another huge stand was that erected in the churchyard of St. Martin's Church, Charing Cross. This also contained 4,000 seats, ranging in price from one to fifteen guineas. Its erection engaged the labour of 120 men for some five weeks. It contained 175,000 cubic feet of timber and twenty tons of ironwork. The rent of the site was £4,000.
[Illustration: _From a Photograph_} { _by J. de Souza._
THE PROCESSION OF IMPERIAL AND COLONIAL TROOPS, June 19.
What was in effect a dress rehearsal of the Jubilee procession took place on the Saturday preceding that event, when the Life Guards, the Dragoon Guards, Horse and Field Artillery, and Colonial Mounted Troops assembled at Victoria Park, and marched by Grove Road, Mile End Road, and Whitechapel, to the Mansion House. The picture represents the South Australian Lancers leaving the Park. The troops, and particularly the Colonials, were received with the greatest enthusiasm by the immense crowds which lined the route. It was a happy idea to give the East End this opportunity of welcoming the Colonists.]
There were many other stands of colossal size, but that which represented the most enterprising speculation of the celebration was undoubtedly the colossal stand on the north side of St. Paul's Churchyard.[J] For the purpose of its erection one of the most valuable city properties was purchased and pulled down. The seats in these various stands were offered at fabulous prices, but the public refused to purchase, and the venture resulted in a heavy loss to its promoters, as indeed did most of the speculations in seats. However, very large sums indeed were paid to witness the procession, £2,000 being offered and accepted for the use of a building in St. Paul's Churchyard for the day. In some cases the vendors offered prizes ranging from £50 downwards to purchasers of their seats.
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.