XVIII South Australia
The Prince alighted at sundown at the shipping centre Port Augusta, at the head of Spencer gulf, and was welcomed to South Australia by Mr. Barwell, State Premier, and other members of the Cabinet. A civic reception was held, and the party changed over from the standard gauge train of the Trans-Australian Railway, into a train on the narrow gauge of South Australia, which was standing in the station profusely decorated for the occasion. A start was then made on the two hundred and sixty miles that lay between that point and Adelaide, throughout the whole of which distance, we afterwards learnt, a guard had been placed on every bridge and culvert. The people of South Australia were in no mind that the Prince should run the risk of further accident.
Civic receptions, at which numbers of returned men and other war workers were drawn up, and all the inhabitants turned out, were given at various places en route, including Quorn, Peterborough, Terowie, and Gawler. The first part of the way was over the picturesque Pichirichi pass, thirteen hundred feet above sea level. After descending on the other side the narrow gauge gave place to the broad five-feet-three-inch track, which connects Adelaide with Melbourne. Sir Archibald Weigall, Governor of South Australia, soon afterwards joined the train. The latter part of the route was through flat and extraordinarily fertile farming country.
Adelaide was reached about noon. Here a large proportion of the inhabitants of the province had assembled to welcome the Prince. A procession was formed at the railway station, where guards-of-honour were drawn up. The Prince shared a motor with Sir Archibald Weigall. Mr. Barwell and other members of the South Australian Government occupied cars behind. A well-mounted escort of light horse, in khaki, jingled on either side. The entire route, some three miles in length through the principal streets, had been elaborately decorated, and was lined ten deep the whole way with cheerful crowds. Entering the spacious and solidly built King George’s Street, where magnificent bodies of Flying Corps, Engineers, Naval Reserve, and other returned men kept the barricades, the Prince was greeted by numbers of lady war-workers, in fresh white uniforms, who had public-spiritedly reopened, for the benefit of the blue-jackets and marines on the various visiting war-vessels, the “Cheer-up club” which did such good service during the war. Cadets, red cross workers, and masses of medalled returned men lined the space opposite the town hall, where Mayor Moulder read a civic address, to which the Prince replied, describing his now nearly half-completed travels in the Commonwealth as a most memorable experience, a statement heartily endorsed by all who shared them. From the town hall the procession went on to the working-men’s quarter, where the reception was as enthusiastic as anywhere. It was also noticeable that although only school-children, of whom there were incredible numbers, lined the route for at least half a mile in this part of the city, order was as well kept as in thoroughfares elsewhere, where regulars or volunteers were lined up.
Outside the big market in Rendal Street, beneath a wide arch built on one side with vegetables, and on the other with apples and oranges, a pretty function occurred, a little girl, daughter of the oldest gardener doing business with the market, presenting the Prince with a bouquet, and a small boy, the son of the oldest packer, with a basket of fruit, offerings that symbolized pleasantly enough the very considerable business done in South Australia in garden produce.
Further on, in North Terrace, a more touching spectacle was presented where hundreds of beds from the hospitals, each with a nurse in attendance, lined the route, and the Prince paused for a word of greeting with the patients. Medical students, apprentices, and yet more cadets, were lined up near the fine stone buildings of the Art Gallery, the University and the Exhibition, which are here grouped together. The procession ultimately entered and ended in the quiet gardens of Government House, where H.R.H. was to spend the week of his visit.
Amongst functions which took place at Adelaide during the next few days, was a state dinner at the leading hotel, at which three hundred sat down, including everybody of importance in the South Australian Government. Mr. Barwell proposed, and Mr. Gunn, spokesman of the Labour Party, and Leader of the Opposition in the State Legislature, seconded the toast of the Prince’s health. The Prince replied and the proceedings throughout were of the usual cordial nature. A climax was reached after the dinner was over, and it was time for the Royal guest to get home to bed. It was then discovered that the streets outside were so solidly packed with people that it was quite impossible either for the motor-cars to reach the door or for the party to walk to where they were posted. The Prince was brought back into the building, whence he addressed the crowd, at first from an upper window, and afterwards from a roof on which he climbed so as to be nearer the throng. In the end, a way out was found through a side street, by a door much affected by bridal couples.
In the course of his speech at this dinner, the Prince referred sympathetically to the recent death of Premier Peake. He went on to express appreciation of the welcome given him by Adelaide, “the garden city of the Commonwealth,” and dwelt upon the fine war-services of South Australia, and the magnificent opportunities which this State offers for development. He also mentioned the extent to which the future of Australia, as a whole, depends upon a broad far-seeing railway policy, a railway policy in fact “that is continental in scope.” Continuing he expressed regret at having been compelled to omit his originally proposed overland journey from South Australia to Queensland, and announced that, to make this up, it had now been decided, in consultation with the Queensland Government, to substitute at least one week in the back-blocks or interior of Australia, for the proposed visit to the new mandated territory at Rabaul. “I am very sorry,” the Prince added, “to have had to cut out Rabaul, but as I had to choose between the two I am delighted to think I shall now be able to spend some days in seeing bush and station life for myself in the real heart of Australia.” This decision met with general approval. Rabaul stands for the mandated territory of tropical New Guinea, formerly in German possession, and now allocated to the Commonwealth. It is a territory bigger than England and Wales but only sparsely inhabited, partially developed, and with no specially outstanding features. No interest it offers could compare with that of Australia itself.
The next few days were busy ones, public functions succeeding one another almost continuously, and acres of close-packed crowds assembling wherever it was announced that the Prince was to be present. On one occasion he unveiled a fine bronze statue of the late King Edward. On another he conversed with an assemblage of blinded soldiers. One of the most picturesque of his experiences was when four thousand women war-workers, including nurses, members of Cheer-up clubs, motor-ambulance drivers, comforts workers, and members of the Mothers’ League marched past him in solid battalions, many of them bearing stripes indicative of five years’ public service, and some the badge which stood for son or husband killed at the front. The scene of enthusiasm will long be remembered when he told them he hoped that they, like the diggers, would all look upon him as a comrade. It was a thing he said often but never too often.
The Prince also made expeditions into the surrounding country, which has a climate like that of Italy, the vineyards climbing the terraced hills around Adelaide enhancing the resemblance. He here made the acquaintance of the Australian wine industry, which continues to prosper and expand, despite the new and devastating form of drought that threatens it throughout the world. The difficulties of the trade are considerable. The Australian is not himself a wine-bibber. His intoxicant is whisky and his stimulant is tea. Withal he is a very temperate person. No great home market, therefore, is at hand for the native wines, and in spite of an excellence in many brands which must in the long run establish them, the European importer still shows only a modified confidence in stocking them to the displacement of the better known labels of Southern Europe. Six million gallons annually, however, are being drunk somewhere.
On the day of the Prince’s departure from Adelaide, eight thousand state school-children and forty-five thousand spectators said good-bye to him in brilliant sunshine, on the Adelaide cricket-ground. From the cricket-ground he proceeded to the University, where the degree of D.C.L. was conferred upon him. Thence through large crowds, which had waited hours for his passing, and greeted him when he appeared with friendly shouts of “Good-bye, Digger,” he went to the railway station, and proceeded by train to Port Adelaide. Here a local civic address was presented, and yet another large gathering of children, returned men and war-workers cheered him. The Royal train eventually went on, down the Port Adelaide main street, which was black with people, to the outer harbour wharves, where Sir Archibald Weigall, Mr. Barwell, Mr. Moulden, and other leading men of South Australia went on the Renown and said good-bye, the Prince ultimately sailing for Tasmania.