To South Africa, soon after Sir George Grey had resumed duty there, came a member of the Royal family.  This was Prince Alfred, later the Duke of Edinburgh, now the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha.  Sir George suggested the visit, and he believed it had excellent results.  It delighted the colonists to have a son of the Queen among them.  Seeing him the natives could exclaim, ’Again, the Queen loves us or she would not send us her son!’ The visit drew out the regard of South Africa towards England and its Sovereign.  Certainly the federal idea!

‘Prince Alfred,’ Sir George made an appreciation of him, ’was a nice, frank, handsome boy; an excessively taking little boy.  In his honour, we had perhaps the largest hunt that ever took place in South Africa.  It was calculated that he shot more deer in fifteen minutes, than his father would have shot in the Scottish Highlands in a season.

’The Prince had to face a different sort of experience at a town, Port Elizabeth I think, which we reached on his birthday.  He had to walk between lines of girls, laden with bouquets, which they flung down before him, to the words:  “Many happy returns of the day.”  It was rather trying for a midshipman.

’Everybody was delighted with Prince Alfred, and even the President of the Transvaal Republic called him “Our Prince.”  For his progress through the country, I had a beautiful wagon made.  At the close of the tour Prince Alfred gave it, a friendly gift, to the Transvaal President.  You can understand how it would be regarded by him, even be useful.  Moreover it was calculated, while only a wagon, to impress the burghers of the Transvaal with the greatness of England.  A simple pastoral people, they could not themselves have begot such a vehicle and team.’

Prince Alfred confided to Sir George Grey, with boyish certainty, that he never wanted to succeed to the Duchy of Saxe-Coburg.  He wouldn’t have it.  ‘I have been all over the place,’ exclaimed the dashing young sailor, ‘and, believe me, it hasn’t a pond on which you could sail a punt.’

XVI THE FAR-FLUNG BATTLE-LINE

A captain of the sea most proves himself that when it storms, and so a captain of empire.

The danger signal was flying again in New Zealand, and Sir George Grey must needs be asked to get it down.  Hardly had he been keel-hauled for his doings in one colony, when another required him.  He must have been uncertain whether to despair or smile.  It was like love-making.

During his first rule in New Zealand, Sir George held a conference of Maori chiefs, Te-Whero-Whero being present.  He had come along, in the train of the Governor, without any of his own people, who lived farther north.  It grieved him to be thus situate, at a crisis when the ability to tender assistance in men, might be of the utmost worth.

‘Those other chiefs,’ he addressed Sir George, ’are all inferior to me, but they have their retainers with them.  They are promising you to bring so much strength into the field, while, for myself, I have no one here.  I seem not to aid you at all, but as long as I am separated from my own people I’ll fight in the ranks of some other chief.  You have treated me badly, in that I am here without support to give you.  You force me to put myself in quite a humble position.’