The deposed King of the Zulus, Cetewayo, who was subsequently restored to a portion of his kingdom, made a considerable stir when he visited this country as the “guest of the Government.” A friend who was appointed to take shorthand notes when Cetewayo attended at the Foreign Office enabled me to gain a view of the burly black monarch, and I had an opportunity of comparing the original with the many published portraits. He was a handsome type of a fine race, and looked a king even among the stalwart members of his suite, everyone of whom seemed to be six feet at least in height and well-proportioned. Cetewayo’s figure had been in the Exhibition some time before, and it now became possible to bring it up to date. Everything was done to impress Cetewayo with the strength of the British Empire; but it was discovered that the objects which appealed most to his savage taste were the cattle in the fields, the cloth in the factories, and the gewgaws and jewels in the shop windows. “He is uglier than that,” said an envoy of the Induna King, Gungunhana, critically scrutinising Cetewayo’s figure, when he visited the Exhibition in June, 1891. This native envoy rejoiced in the name of Huluhulu-Untato, his companion being Umfeti-Inteni. They thought the figures were really dead bodies which had been preserved from decay. When told that they were merely waxen images the Indunas expressed disappointment that the white man had not completed his work by putting breath into the bodies. When Huluhulu came before the figure of Queen Victoria he saluted Her silent Majesty, and stood audibly worshipping her for a minute or two. CHAPTER XXVI The Berlin Congress--Lord Beaconsfield and the “Turnerelli wreath”--“The People’s Tribute” finds a home at Tussaud’s--The sculptor’s despair--He constructs his tombstone and dies. The year 1876--in which we find the Prince of Wales arriving at Calcutta, the commercial metropolis of India; “Empress of India” added to the royal titles of Queen Victoria; and Disraeli’s elevation to the Upper House as Earl of Beaconsfield--gave us subjects that kept our studios extremely busy, and also brought a constant stream of visitors to the Exhibition. The portrait of the Queen had now to be remodelled; that of the Prince of Wales appeared in the garb of a big-game hunter; and Disraeli’s doffed its ordinary attire for the robes of a peer. Following these “moving” events, we now come to a period when the country became apprehensively aware of ominous happenings in the Balkan States. Russia declared war on Turkey in 1877, and forced a clear road to Constantinople. This threat to our Eastern Empire aroused the spirit of war, particularly in London, and “gentlemen of the pavement,” as Bismarck styled the men in the street, gloried in the ultra-patriotic sentiment which obtained the name of “Jingo”; while music-halls and taverns rang with the rousing chorus embodying that distinctive epithet: