The Express.
London, England, 1861-10-19 00:00:00

CORONATION

or
THE KING OF PRUSSIA.

THZ
KING S ENTRY INTO KONIGSBERG

(nom ova (uncut col

KONIOBBERO. MONDAY.
I cannot say for the pageant, the witnessing of
which occupied me the whole of this morning, that
it was as imposing in military display as others
which I have seen amongst the continental sore-
reigntien, but in my judgment that was ono of its
greatest merits, as showing the desire of a constitu-
tional King to let no parade of force stand between
him and his people on a great occasion, but to look
for his best body guard in their loyalty, and not
blind but discriminating and appreciative attach-
ment.

With respect to the weather, one would almost
think that the alliance with the royal family of
England had purchased for his Prussian Majesty
that interest with the meteorological depart-
ment which secures for her Majesty a fine day every
time it is her pleasure to appear in public. In fact
it would not have been possible to have had a finer
day if we had arranged all the sunshine, and the
light clouds, and the pleasant airs ourselves. The
old town presented an exceedingly gay and pleasant
appearance. Front the railway station up to the
Groin Brticke, runs a wide, open, rather modern
street, built in French fashion, called the Vorstadt,
and its long white facade on each side gave ample
opportuuity for those tasteful festoons of fir sprigs
which seem to be the great Konigsberg idea of
triumphal greenery. The windows were all open
and filled with ladies, the lower ones opening into
temporary tribunes, all of which were let for the day
at a very large figure. A very conspicuous feature in
this street wan the front of a large house situated
about the centre, out of one window of which leant a
" turbaned Turk " in solitary grandeur, the re-
mainder being filled, at his invitation, with a large
and fashionable company of ladies. Crossing the
" Brucke" up that street to the name of which I
undertook to make only the moat distant allusions
in future, I found the same scene repeated, only
that the street was narrower, the houses older and
more picturesque, and that, therefore, the quaint
style of decoration had a much better effect than
in the modern avenue.
All those Londoners who saw the main street of
Gravesend on the morning of the departure of the
Crown Princess to her new home can form a very
good idea of the appearance which the main street
of old Konigsberg presented this morning. The
street had been carefully sanded—a must necessary
precaution—all the way up to the old castle, and
down it +he people poured all the morning, in one
continuous stream, both horse and foot, whilst
every peregrinating animal, whether biped or qua-
druped, seemed positively to revel in the—alas !
only fleeting joy of a smooth footway. I had se-
cured a place in an excellent tribune close to the
bridge, on the suburban wide, and here I took my
mat betimes, provided with the necessary fuliginous
appliances for whiling away a long expectant sinner.
I could see everything and everybody, and my busi-
ness was to see both, and "take a note of. The
first thing I looked at was the water, to see
how my perplexed friend the harbour-master had
got over his political difficulty with reference to the
Danish question, and was happy to see a good sized
Prussian ship close to, with her bowsprit reaching
quite acmes the bridge, and exhibiting in her many-
coloured bunting enough of black eagles to satisfy
the most enthusiastic Prussians. Her stout sailors
manned the yards, and kept themselves very busy
singing the national song, " I'm a Prussian, don't
you see my colour,. I" a question which in this case
mint have received an universal affirmative ; but
having begun their concert in that elevated position
which poets know as " the giddy mast," they soon
found that the harbour-master in providing their
novel orchestra had forgotten to ballast the ship,
which began to rock so violently under them that
they were obliged to descend precipitately and repeat
their musical question, " Do&t you see my colours I"
fmni the deck. But it all looked very gay. There were
Sardinian, and Spanish, and Swedish, and even the
unpopular Danish colours in abundance ; and on
one mast far down the river I saw a certain piece of
bunting known among its friends, and sometimes
very well by its enemies, as the " Union Jack, "
waving gently in the autumnal breeze. Another
thing which I saw, however, did not give me quite
so much satisfaction, and that was the postman,
whose duty it was to take the letters down to the
station, standing at ease on the deck of one of the
ships with his precious box before him, and de-
ckling that he was "a Prussian" in u vehement
vocalisation as any of the rest. Every time he
shouted out "Don't you see my colours 1" I was
inclined to reply, " Don't you see your box of let.-
ten !" which were certain to be late ; but it was no
use, they do everything at slow time iu North Ger-
many.
As I sat on nay lofty tribune, I was quite asto-
nished at the numbers and diversity of the crowd,
and, let me add, at their good order and good
humour.

The line was supposed to be kept by the gene-
d'armes d pied, but these warriors in green were as
jolly as anybody else, and as anxious to let every
one know in vocal numbers that they were " Prus-
sians," so that the " line " was a very imperfect
representation of linear regularity up to the very
last moment. Carriage' rolled on incessantly—
those extraordinary looking =nag' in which the
Prussians delight, but many of them having good
heavy horses, and displaying a considerable amount
of cumbrous magnificence. The corporation, all
wearing cocked bats, and looking in them consi-
derably more fierce as well as municipal than the
Lord Mayor of London, rolled by in open caleches,
and it was their glory to keep the cocked hats
in a perpetual state of aerial oscillation, in
reply to the constantly recurring recognition of
the streets and the tribunes. Then almost a
squadron of general officers would ride by, in the
fine but by no means gaudy uniform of the Prus-
sian army. In front of one of these cavalcades the
veteran General Wrangel, the commander in the
Schleswig-Holstein war, was recognised in the uni-
form of the Cuirassiers. It would be quite impos-
sible to overrate the enthusiasm with which he was
received. His was the greatest ovation of the day,
and all, as I was told, in consequence of his having
measured swords successfully with the Danes, who
are by no means popular in these parts.
Then the eye was caught by the quaint and
grotesque procession of the trades or guilds of
Konigsberg, a sight which had more interest for
me than the most splendid military pageant, as
being a reminiscence of the times when the ances-
tors of the sturdy handicraftsmen whom I saw
before me did fierce and successful battle for that
civil and religious liberty, which is now the boast
aad blessing of Old England. They were beaded
by the butchers, who in Germany—and, as I think,
very properly—take precedence of all other trades-
men, only I wish they bad better beef upon which
to exercise their sublime art. On this occasion
they looked the kings of tradesmen, and their
leader the emperor of butchers. They were all tall,
stout, rosy men, respectably dressed en Lou
with cocked hats, and well mounted. The COM-
mander-in-Chief took off his hat as he passed our
, tribune at • leisurely caracole, and I, only too
proud, appropriated the honour too surely intended
for somebody else, replying with my best insular
imitation. Then came the bakers, full price and
low price, in separate battalions, and carrying
models of windmills and other typical insignia of
theiruseful trada The engine-makers, a craft not
known in the old Burgher times, and • very newe-
-1 roes sad respectable looking body, followed,