Their minds were no sooner made up on this point than they hailed the first boatman that passed, and entering his wherry they proceeded to seat themselves therein, and were rowed up and down the small river under the safe conduct of the sculler.
This was pleasant enough for a short time, and the Sandboys amused themselves by observing the freaks of the crowd. Across the Park, they could see the people coming in streams from all directions, like ants to a nest. There were men in flannel jackets; women with children in their arms; hawkers, some with Programmes of the Procession, others with long panoramic pictures of the Lord Mayor’s Show fluttering in the wind, which they were crying as “a correct view” of the opening of the Great Exhibition by the Queen in State; countrymen some in their smockfrocks, and others in their fluffy beaver hats. Never was there such a crowd congregated in any part of London, and certainly in no other part of the world. The multitudes that had entered the Building were but as a few grains of sand collected, as it were, from the vast shore of human beings without.
It has been said that not less than half a million of people were gathered together in the Parks alone, and doubtlessly with truth, for it had been declared a general holiday, as it were by universal acclamation, throughout the metropolis.
Some few of the shops had opened for an hour or two, but finding all their customers had departed to the “Great Show,” the masters had followed their customers’ example, and, putting up their shutters, had started with their families to have a peep at the sight themselves. The omnibuses had many of them begun running from all parts of the suburbs to the Crystal Palace from six o’clock in the morning. The “Atlases,” the “Paragons,” the “Waterloos,” the “King’s Crosses,” the “Paddingtons,” the “Camberwells,” &c., had all abandoned their accustomed routes, and taken to carry passengers, for the time being, to Knightsbridge—many of them being covered with large placards of “To the Exhibition,” pasted over their wonted destinations. Most of the ’busses, too, had a very gay appearance, with their new reins and trappings, the large rosettes at their horses’ ears, and bows on their whips, with long streamers flying, and bunches of flowers in the button-holes of the coachmen’s coats.
Through the streets travelled excursion-vans, with the curtains festooned and looped up, with huge bunches of flowers and evergreens at each fastening, and filled with holiday folk, with a table in the centre, and a barrel of beer at the end.
Not a part of London but what bad poured forth its countless throngs. The main thoroughfares, that were usually almost impassable at mid-day, were as still and deserted as in the dead of night. Not a cab was to be seen in the streets; and even the fruit-stalls had left their accustomed corners. The sparrows hopped and chirruped in the middle of the causeways. A stray Jack in the Green might occasionally be seen, but though the musician blew his pipes with all his might, and beat his drum with all his force, not a boy was to be drawn after them—not a child to be attracted to the windows by the sound, even though, owing to the stillness of the streets, the drum and pipes sounded doubly as loud and shrill as usual.
Every one had gone to the Great Exhibition! and certainly the multitudes assembled in the Park were proof demonstrative of the fact.
The Sandboys, as they flitted across the Serpentine, could hear the shouts of the people, as some well-known Minister or nobleman was recognised in his carriage by the populace. Then, as they stood up in the boat, they could catch sight of the bright breast-plates and helmets of the Life Guards, as they galloped rapidly by. Next they could see the scarlet and gold coats of the royal coachmen dart along between the open spaces of the trees; then they heard the hoarse cheers of the multitude, as the Queen entered the Crystal Palace; and they saw the solitary Sapper-and-Miner, standing beside the flag-staff, on the topmost curve of the crystal roof, hoist the Royal Standard immediately her Majesty crossed the threshold.
For a short time afterwards all was still and silent, with the exception of the cries of the hawkers, who, immediately that the cheers had ceased, might be heard again shouting at the tops of their voices their “full and correct Programmes of the Procession—only a penny.” Presently they could catch by gusts the faint sound of the organ, peeling forth its full rich harmonious tones within the Crystal Palace.
Then the sculler pulled the boat down towards the spot where the mimic frigate lay at anchor, so that Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys might see the signal made, telling those on board that the Queen had declared the Great Exhibition to be opened.