in the castle quadrangle. The troops occupied the whole square. At
about ten the king appeared with his family. He passed round the lines,
while the salute was performed; and many a rapid word of inquiry had he
to offer to the colonels who accompanied him. Not always did he wait
for an answer--but that was after the fashion of royalty in general. He
passed onwards towards St. George's Chapel. But the military pomp did
not end in what is called the upper quadrangle. In the lower ward, at a
very humble distance from the regular troops, were drawn up a splendid
body of men, ycleped the Windsor Volunteers; and most gracious were the
nods of royalty to the well-known drapers, and hatters, and
booksellers, who had the honour to hold commissions in that
distinguished regiment. The salutations, however, were short, and
onwards went the cortege, for the chapel bell was tolling in, and the
king was always punctual.

Great was the crowd to see the king and his family return from chapel;
for by this time London had poured forth its chaises and one, and the
astonished inmates of Cheapside and St. Mary Axe were elbowing each
other to see how a monarch smiled. They saw him well; and often have I
heard the disappointed exclamation, "Is _that_ the king?" They saw a
portly man, in a plain suit of regimentals, and no crown upon his
head. What a fearful falling off from the king of the story-books!

The terrace, however, was the great Sunday attraction; and though
Bishop Porteus remonstrated with his majesty for suffering people to
crowd together, and bands to play on these occasions, I cannot think
that the good-tempered monarch committed any mortal sin in walking
amongst his people in their holiday attire. This terrace was a motley
scene.