carriage, in which sat the Queen, attended by the Mistress of the Robes and
the Master of the Horse. Her Majesty's full-dress was a "splendid pink
satin shot with silver." She wore a queenly diamond tiara, and, as we are
told, looked remarkably well. Her approach was the signal for enthusiastic
cheering, which increased as she advanced, while the bells of the city
churches rang out merry peals. The fronts of the houses were decorated with
bright-coloured cloth, green boughs, and such flowers as November had
spared. Devices in coloured lamps waited for the evening illumination to
bring them out in perfection. Venetian masts had not been hoisted then in
England, but "rows of national flags and heraldic banners were stretched
across the Strand at several points, and busts and portraits of her Majesty
were placed in conspicuous positions." The only person in the Queen's train
who excited much interest was the Duke of Wellington, and he heard himself
loudly cheered. The mob was rapidly condoning what they had considered his
errors as a statesman, and restoring him to his old eminence, in their
estimation, as the hero of the long wars, the conqueror of Bonaparte.
Applause or reprobation the veteran met with almost equal coolness. When he
had been besieged by raging, threatening crowds, calling upon him to do
justice to Queen Caroline, as he rode to Westminster during the wild days
of her trial, he had answered "Yes, yes," without a muscle of his face
moving, and pushed on straight to his destination. For many a year he was
to receive every contrite huzza, as he had received every fierce hiss, with
no more than the twinkling of an eyelid or the raising of two fingers.

The gathering at Temple Bar--real, grim old Temple Bar, which had borne
traitors' heads in former days--was so great that a detachment of Life
Guards, as well as a strong body of police, had work to do in clearing a
way for the carriages. The aldermen had to be accommodated with a room in
Child's old banking-house, founded by the typical industrious apprentice
who married his master's daughter. It sported the quaint old sign of the