Yesterday was the Sabbath, but it had more the appearance of a holiday
than a day of rest. It had been announced the day before, that the Royal
fleet was expected, and at an early hour on Sunday, the entire town
seemed to be on the move towards Kingstown, and as the family with whom
I was staying followed the multitude, I was not inclined to remain
behind, and so went with them. On reaching the station we found it
utterly impossible to get standing room in any of the trains, much less
a seat, and therefore determined to reach Kingstown under the plea of a
morning's walk; and in this we were not alone, for during the walk of
five miles the road was filled with thousands of pedestrians and a
countless number of carriages, phaetons, and vehicles of a more humble
order.

We reached the lower town in time to get a good dinner, and rest
ourselves before going to make further searches for Her Majesty's fleet.
At a little past four o'clock, we observed the multitude going towards
the pier, a number of whom were yelling at the top of their voices,
"It's coming, it's coming;" but on going to the quay, we found that a
false alarm had been given. However, we had been on the look-out but a
short time, when a column of smoke rising as it were out of the sea,
announced that the Royal fleet was near at hand. The concourse in the
vicinity of the pier was variously estimated at from eighty to one
hundred thousand.

It was not long before the five steamers were entering the harbour, the
one bearing Her Majesty leading the way. As each vessel had a number of
distinguished persons on board, the people appeared to be at a loss to
know which was the Queen; and as each party made its appearance on the
promenade deck, they were received with great enthusiasm, the party
having the best looking lady being received with the greatest applause.