On March 7th, 1902, the King and Queen came down to lay the foundation-stone of the new College. This was, of course, a tremendous fête day for Dartmouth generally, and the _Britannia_ in particular. Their Majesties arrived in a special train at Kingswear, and crossed the harbour in the Great Western Railway Company's little steamer the _Dolphin_, which was profusely decorated. A large wooden pavilion was erected near the site of the College, handsomely hung with flags, etc., of various colours. The foundation-stone is a block of Cornish granite, which is to form the base of a column 60 feet high on the left of the main entrance. The casket to contain the coins and records, and the mallet, were made of oak from the old _Britannia_, and there was, of course, a silver trowel, which was designed by the architect, Mr. Aston Webb. [Illustration: THE KING'S VISIT, MARCH 7, 1902. _Photo: Russell & Sons, Southsea._] All was going off swimmingly, when it was discovered that the medals, which the King, after declaring the stone "well and truly laid," was to present to sundry persons, had been left on board the ancient and much-bedizened _Dolphin_! What was to be done? The failure of the captain of the _Britannia_, or whoever was responsible, to produce the medals at the proper moment would, of course, be immediately followed by the mandate, "Off with his head!" or at the least, "To the Tower with the knave!" However, a saviour was found in the person of Lieutenant Woollcombe, who was mounted in some official capacity, and who, on learning of the impending disaster, stuck his spurs in his horse and tore at full gallop through the town to the pontoon, where the _Dolphin_ was found lying; he seized the packet and thundered back again, arriving in time to save the captain's head. The magazine has something to say about this feat:-- "Blessed with magnificent weather, everything went smoothly, except for one slight incident, which introduced the Deputy-Master of the Horse in the character of Gilpin (wasn't it?) in his celebrated ride to York; and if the shedding of garments had continued, we are not quite certain that the rôle of Godiva would not better have suited him." There is some unkind allusion here which is not quite apparent to the uninitiated: it would appear as though the wild horseman had hastily dispensed with some of his garments as he rode; and, for an officer in full, gold-plated, stand-up-collar uniform, this is indeed a difficult and daring feat, especially if he contrived, while still at full gallop, to replace them before he arrived in the royal presence. When he next rides through the town May I be there to see! The magazine proceeds:--"We were lucky enough to witness an excellent cinematograph a few days after their Majesties had been with us, showing in detail their movements outside the pavilion; and the picture showing the arrival of the Royal carriage was greeted with enthusiastic applause.