On the 9th of August, 1845, the Queen and Prince Albert embarked at Woolwich to visit the land of her maternity and his natal spot. In the Belgian and Prussian territories, and in the Duchy of Coburg itself, they were rapturously welcomed. At Bonn, they were serenaded by a monster orchestra, consisting of no fewer than sixty military bands. At the same city they assisted at the inauguration of the statue of Beethoven. The same evening they witnessed at Cologne an illumination and pyrotechnic display which turned the Rhine into a _feu-de-joie_. As darkness closed in, the dim and fetid city began to put forth buds of light; lines of twinkling brightness darted, like liquid gold and silver, from pile to pile, then along the famous bridge of boats, across the river, up the masts of the shipping, and all abroad on the opposite bank. Rockets now shot from all parts of the horizon. The royal party embarked in a steamer at St. Tremond, and glided down the river; as they passed, the banks blazed with fireworks and musketry. At their approach they glared with redoubled light; and, being suspended, let the vessel pass to Cologne, whose cathedral burst forth a building of light, every detail of the architecture being made out in delicately coloured lamps--pinkish, with an underglow of orange. A few days afterwards the Queen steamed up the Rhine. At Stoltzenfelz there was another magnificent illumination and display of fireworks. The whole river, both its banks, its crags, ravines, and ruins, were simultaneously lighted up; showers of rockets and other fireworks besprinkled the firmament, while repeated salvoes of artillery called the grandeur of resonant sound to the aid of visible beauty. [Sidenote: VISIT TO COBURG.] At Coburg the Queen, as might be supposed, was still more cordially welcomed than at any of her previous stopping places. She and the Prince stopped at the Castle of Rosenau, and they occupied the room in which he had been born. A magnificent stag-hunt was got up for their entertainment; but what pleased the Queen most was being present at a festival entitled "The Feast of Gregorius." This was a species of carnival, in which the burghers and rustics, their wives and children, disguised in masks, indulged in innocent and exuberant gaiety. The Queen and her relatives freely mixed with the revellers. She talked to the children, to their great astonishment, "in their own language." Tired of dancing and processions, and freed from all awe by the ease of their illustrious visitors, the children took to romps, "thread-my-needle," and other pastimes, and finally were well pelted by the royal circle with bon-bons, flowers, and cakes. CHAPTER XVIII. THE QUEEN IN IRELAND.