"In the evening the principal streets of the City and West End were most brilliantly illuminated, and, the weather being fine, the crowds of eager spectators who had been disappointed early in the day rendered the streets impassable. The club houses in Pall Mall, St. James's Street, and elsewhere, were elegantly and most appropriately illuminated, with one solitary exception—the Reform club house in Pall Mall, in front of which was exhibited the word "Victoria" in variegated lamps. Some wags doubted the propriety of this display, and, looking at the Parliamentary events of the preceding night, were sceptical as to the fitness of the word at such a moment. It was, however, questioned by some bystanders whether the display was designed as a compliment to the heiress presumptive, or had reference to the "mighty triumph" of the pseudo Liberals in the House of Commons on the recent division.[20] Whatever was the intention of the parties by whose direction the exhibition was made, it is beyond doubt that the word 'Victoria' was, in that view, as much laughed at as though an insignificant 'Five' had blazoned forth in all the arrogance of conquest.
"Though the illuminations were by no means general, yet the tradespeople of the Royal Family manifested devoted loyalty and considerable taste in the displays they made. It would be invidious to the parties, and uninteresting to our readers, to describe the numerous devices and their localities. The task must be indefinite, and it must, therefore, content the curious to know that the brilliancy of the illumination, the taste displayed, and the good humour which manifested itself in all directions, made some considerable amends to the disappointment of the holiday folk in the morning. Densely as the streets were thronged (and we never saw them more so), we heard of no accident having occurred—a fact which was rendered the more remarkable by the total absence of anything like police arrangements as to the passage of carriages through the principal and most attractive of the streets. On the whole, however, the day passed off wonderfully well, and a late hour of the night saw thousands home, who were highly delighted with the sights they had seen."
Fraser's Magazine for June had a rather smart sonnet on that majority of five, called
"June Sonnet.
"Good was the omen on th' auspicious night
When kept was fair Victoria's natal day—
London in gas, and oil, and tallow gay,
Looked a vast isle of artificial light:
Anchors and crowns, and roses beaming bright;
Stars, garters, and triangles, shone around:
Lions and unicorns all chained and crowned,
And other blazonings—yellow, green, red, white—
Dazzled the air. But, more delighted, we
Welcomed one blazing letter everywhere
Playing a double duty. Hail, great V!
V! Ministerial sad majority—
Mark of the unhappy Five! with grim despair
Did Melbourne and his men that symbol see.'
The next thing of interest was "The Spitalfields Silk Weavers Ball," held on June 1st, at the King's Theatre. After the Edict of Nantes, nearly fifty thousand French artisans and manufacturers fled into England, and the silk weavers located themselves at Spitalfields and Bethnal Green. At this time their trade was very bad, and there was much distress among them. This being represented to the King and Queen, they commanded that a ball should be given at the King's Theatre for the benefit of the weavers, and at which their Majesties intended to attend. All the feminine portion of the royal family and the principal ladies of the nobility were patronesses, and a royal command was given that no ladies should appear dressed in other than satin or silk of Spitalfields manufacture, and that those gentlemen who were not attired in military or naval uniforms should wear fancy waistcoats of the same fabric.
The theatre was specially and beautifully decorated for the occasion; the front of the boxes were hung in festoons of satin and silk (all of Spitalfields manufacture), the grand tier being purple, with the badge and insignia of the Order of the Garter; the second tier crimson, with the badge and insignia of the Order of the Bath; the third tier light blue, with the badge and insignia of the Order of St. Patrick; the fourth tier green, with the badge and insignia of the Order of St. Andrew; and the fifth tier light blue, with the badge and insignia of the Guelphic Order. Five of the centre boxes were thrown into one, and a large projecting balcony erected for the reception of the royal visitors, and two boxes on either side for the accommodation of members of the household. The pit was boarded over and made even with the stage.
Weippert's band of sixty-four performers formed the orchestra. Mr. Kendon, dancing-master to the Princess Victoria, acted as master of the ceremonies, and special precautions were taken to prevent the admission of improper characters. With that view the patrons and patronesses gave vouchers to those who were anxious to be present, which were afterwards exchanged by Mr. Willis, of Almack's, for the regular tickets of admission, of which about 2300 were sold. Not a seat was empty, and the ball was a decided success.
Neither the King nor the Queen were able to attend, for the poor old man was moribund. A slight decline of strength had been perceptible to the immediate attendants of the King at the commencement of the year, but it was not till the month of May that the state of his Majesty's health excited any serious apprehensions. On the 17th of that month he held a levee, but, on his return to Windsor Castle, he showed great signs of debility and exhaustion, with oppression of breathing, in consequence of which he had considerable difficulty in ascending the staircase; and when he had reached the corridor was under the necessity of resting on the nearest sofa. He tried to keep up as well as he could, but on June 7th his physicians found him much worse. On June 8th his illness was noticed in the "Court Circular," with a notice that the state entertainment intended to have been given at the castle to the knights of the several orders was indefinitely postponed; indeed, on that day, in obedience to the Queen's wishes, the party staying at the castle dispersed.
Day after day he grew worse, with just a little flutter of improvement when the Waterloo memorial flag was presented to him, when he expressed himself as glad to see it, and begged the Duke of Wellington to be told that he desired the Waterloo banquet to be held as usual, and hoped it would be an agreeable dinner. He gradually sunk until June 20th, when the following bulletin was issued:—