DEPARTURE OF THE GUARDS FOR EGYPT. Our London Correspondent's Description of the Scene.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 101, 9 May 1885, Page 3

DEPARTURE OF THE GUARDS FOR EGYPT. Our London Correspondent's Description of the Scene.

Last Saturday morning broke cold and cheerless, a damp fog enveloped Westminster in its folds, and an icy east wind penetrated every nook and cranning of the places of shelter along the embankment. Nevertheless London was early awake. At nine o'clock the Scots Guards -dearly beloved of every true Cockney — were to embark at Westminster Bridge, en route to "smash the Mahdi," and put things to rights in the Soudan, and from the Prince of Wales down to the humblest coster of Claro Market, all who could were anxious to see the last of the soldiers, and bid them heartily "Godspeed." What a scene it was ! Myself and some friends took up our station in the St. Stephen's Club (opposite the Houses of Parliament), which commands views alike of the pier at Westminster and the approach from Great George street. At halfpast 8, when, with considerable difficulty, our hansom reached the Club door, a dense mob, composed in the main of the " rough" element, stretched every way as far as the eye could reach — lamp-posts, the embankment walls and railing, the gates of Palace Yard, Cleopatra's Needle, and eveiy other point of vantage, had long ago been swarmed by " rampers," and as the police were for once insufficient, "King Mob " had things pretty much his own way. The people were not, however, mischievously inclined On such an occasion kindly feelings animate the minds of even the most depraved, and beyond now and then chaffing the shivering unfortunates on the tops of the omnibuses and in private carriages, the crowd was quiet and orderly. We had not been enjoying the vagaries of the mob for many minutes when a loud shout and the distant strains of a military band indicated the proximity of the Guards. Here they come ! It is a sight to stir the blood of the least martial and make even a a'street- boy's heort beat. The men are so soldierly, and march so cheerily in their picturesque new uniforms. The ordinary get-up of the Scots Guards we all know, but these tall, strapping youngsters look strange in their long, dark serge overcoats, white helmets with brass straps, and all the elaborate paraphernalia of havresack, canteen, water-bottle, etc. In front is the band, to the strains of which the solid column mechanically keeps step without effort— tramp, tramp, tramp. All round the men surges the crowd. One Guardsman has his sister hanging on to his arm as he steps along, another his sweetheart, another his brother or a friend. But all are full of spirits. "Good-bye, Dick. Mind you write." "Good-bye, Tom. Take care of mother." "Come back to us safe, old man." "Good-bye, and good luck." Such are the expressions which, according to the newspaper men in the crowd, were heard on every side. Hardly any seemed to be marriei men. They were apparently going to war perfectly contented, and without anxiety for thoseleft behind. And now as the crowd grows thicker in Great George-Btreet,loud cheers break forth, to which the outward-bound warriors merrily reply, and the roar of human voices drowns alike band and bugles. Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! If this is going to meet the foe, may Englishmen always go in the same spirit and with the same bright faces. Every eye is clear, every step firm and elastic, every voice at its best when cheering has to be done As the column enters Broad Sanctuary the sun breaks forth from the clouds, and its light shines brightly on the hundred towers and pinnacles of Westminster Palace, still wet and dripping from the morning mist, until they sparkle as if tipped and edged with silver. Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! The crowd here bids fair to break through the strong cordon of mounted police and smash the dark blue line into little bits, so wild is its enthusiasm. Hats are thrown up, ringing cheers from ten thousand throats till the air, and a mad rush towards the pier indicates the ovor-powor-ing desire of everybody to view the embarkation. Louder ascend the cheers, louder and more jubilantly rattle the drums, and down the column pours— tramp, tramp, down the stone steps, along the gangways, and on to the river steamer. It is a splendid sight. The bridge and the bank are literally alive with a dense London crowd, and now to crown all, the police make way through the throng for a quiet brougham, a bluff, portly gentleman, in uniform, emerges, and the band breaks, amidst a deafening roar of cheers, into " God Blees the Prince of Wale 3." H.H.H. trots down the gangway and on to the pier, shaking hands with this officer and nodding to the other. Then he bare his head, and turning to the thronged steamers with raised hand, calls out heartily, "Good health, God speed, and a safe return >" Thenthesteamerscastoff.thepaddles turn, the crowd gathers itself together for a final cheer, and amidst a waving of hats and continuous " hurrahing," the boats disappear down the river. A memorable sight this departure of the Guards, and one that those who witnessed it are not likely to forget.

A drug in the market— opium. Te Aroha wants no more " pubs." Strong winds throughout the colony yes* terday. English policy in Egypt— "False prophet and quick returns." The brewery of HallyßroB.,at Cambridge, has been gurchfcsetl by a Southern man.