The part of the town where Mr. George and Rollo were walking at this time—the vicinity of St. James's Square—is the region occupied by the palaces and mansions of some of the higher nobility of England. These residences are built in a very open manner, standing, many of them, apart from each other, and being in the midst of parks, gardens, terraces, and pleasure grounds, which give to the views that are presented to the eye of the stranger in walking among them a most enchanting variety. As Mr. George and Rollo passed along the streets among these residences, they soon began to observe other marks of excitement besides the illuminations. They saw unusual numbers of well-dressed people walking along the sidewalks; and at length, on turning a corner, they came suddenly into a street where the margin of the sidewalk, for a long distance, was lined with crowds of people,—men, women, and children,—who seemed to be waiting for
something to pass by. They were, in fact, waiting to see the queen.
As has already been said, it was the queen's birthday; and it is the custom for the queen, on her birthday, to hold what is called "a drawing room," in which she receives the calls and congratulations of the nobility of England, the foreign ministers resident in London, and of such strangers as are of sufficient distinction, in respect to their wealth, their rank, or their fame, to entitle them to the honor of being presented to her majesty. The queen does not receive these visits in Buckingham Palace, which is the principal place of her residence in London, but in St. James's Palace, which is an older edifice, formerly the residence of the royal family, but now, since Buckingham Palace was built, reserved for official and state purposes and occasions. St. James's Palace is a large and irregularly-shaped building, of brick. It has nothing special to distinguish it from the other buildings that surround it, and which, in fact, some of them, seem to be so connected with it, by courts, and passages, and wings, and arcades, that it is difficult to tell where the palace begins or ends. In fact, no one would suppose that it was a palace at all were it not for the soldiers, in red uniforms,
which are to be seen at all times walking to and fro, or standing sentry, before their little boxes, at every door and gateway.
Buckingham Palace, on the other hand, is farther out of town. It stands by itself, on the margin of one of the immense parks for which London is so famous—or, rather, on the margin of two of them. Before it is St. James's Park, with its green fields and its winding walks, its groves and copses of trees and shrubbery, its beds and borders of flowers, and above all its beautiful little lake, with gayly-painted boats to sail upon it, and flocks of ducks, and geese, and swans, of every form and color, swimming in all directions over the surface of the water. On the side of it is the Green Park—a broad expanse of the smoothest and richest green, intersected with drives and walks, all crowded with promenaders. Behind the palace is a large enclosure, which contains the private gardens of the palace itself. These gardens are planted and adorned in the most magnificent manner; but they are guarded on every side by a very high wall, and by a continuous line of trees, which bear a very dense and lofty mass of foliage, so that the public can never see what is in them.
Here the queen resides when she is in town, going only to the ancient palace of St. James to
attend meetings of her cabinet council, to hold drawing rooms and levees, and to be present at other great ceremonies of state. Whenever occasions occur on which her majesty is expected to proceed from Buckingham Palace to St. James's, great numbers of people usually assemble in the streets between to see the royal procession pass by.
Mr. George, having learned by inquiry what it was that the people were waiting to see, determined that he and Rollo would wait too. So they took their places in a convenient position, near a lamppost, and waited for her majesty's coming.
They had not been there long before a great movement among the crowd indicated that the royal retinue was in sight; and a moment afterwards some horsemen, elegantly dressed and caparisoned, came rapidly on, followed by a train of two or three carriages very elegantly decorated, and with servants in splendid liveries before and behind, and finally by other horsemen, who brought up the rear. The whole cortége went by so rapidly that Rollo could scarcely distinguish any thing in detail. It passed before his eyes like a gorgeous vision, leaving on his mind only confused images of nodding plumes, beautiful horses, gay footmen and coachmen clothed in
the gayest colors, and carriages plain and simple in style, but inexpressibly elegant and graceful in their forms and in their motions.