The night scene at Detroit on the occasion of the entry of the son of Queen Victoria into the United States was one long to be remembered by all who witnessed it. The glittering line of steamers on the river and the illuminated shores had a beautiful effect, and so also had the six hundred torches of the firemen, that threw a lurid glare upon the heads of the immense and densely packed multitude from the water-side to Jefferson Avenue.

Unfortunately, however, the crowd was too great to be comfortable, and it was with some difficulty that even the lines of the boat were fastened to the snubbing posts. It became a still more difficult matter to attempt the formation of the procession which had been planned. The military and firemen were wedged here and there in the general mass, and endeavors to get them into order were utterly useless. The carriages were jammed in immovably, and could not be approached from the steamer. Half an hour was thus passed, during which the cheers that had greeted the illustrious party had given place to a Babel of sounds, a noisy enthusiasm, expressive of the bubbling ardor and curiosity which swayed the congregated thousands. It was amusing to watch the unflinching perseverance with which delicate women, in spite of crushed bonnets and flattened crinoline, struggled in the midst of all for a place near where the Prince was likely to pass. Such heroic fortitude deserved a better reward than it met with. It was fortunate that only one of the crowd was pushed into the river, and that he was rescued immediately afterwards.