THE END.

The early part of September, 1704, had been stormy and wet and very dismal, so that all in London feared that the great spectacle, which had been arranged with much pains and forethought for the seventh of that month, must be impaired if not totally ruined by the inclemency of the weather. And many there were who, during the night that passed away and when the dawn came, rose from their beds to peer out and see what the day promised.

Yet by great good fortune none were doomed to disappointment. For from away over the river, down by where the great ships were all a-lying dressed with flags, the sun came up in great magnificence and splendour; the clouds turned from purple to a fair pure daffodil; a sweeter autumn morning none had ever seen nor could hope to see.

And now from very early in the morning the crowd came in from far and wide, from north and south and east and west, from the villages along the river as far away as sylvan Richmond on one side, or Hampstead on another; while the gentry drove in from their country seats at Clapham or Kensington and on the road that leads to Fulham. Also those regiments at Hounslow, and the foot guards at Kensington, as well as the city militia from the east side, were all making their way into the town, with drums a-beating and flags streaming out to the fresh morning air and trumpets braying, while in the city itself my Lord Mayor was getting ready to proceed to Temple Bar, there to receive the queen and court.

For this day, the seventh of September, had been fixed for the thanksgiving for the victory of Blenheim which the Duke of Marlborough had recently won. The pity only being that, of those who were to take part in the great ceremony, my Lord Duke could not be there, he being still engaged on the Continent.

Nevertheless, from St. James' there set out so great a company for St. Paul's that 'tis never likely any one then alive could expect to witness a more noble and imposing sight. For there were all the great officers of state, with, amidst them, the queen in a sumptuous coach drawn by eight horses, Her Majesty being ablaze with jewels. Alone she went in that coach excepting one companion, a lady dressed as quietly and simply as could be any lady in the land, there being neither at neck or bosom or throat, or in her hair, any single trinket to be seen.

Yet, I think, she was that day the proudest woman in all England, not even excepting great Anna, since she was the wife of the conqueror who had trampled Louis and his armies under foot; was Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. Could any female heart have desired to be more!

In front of, as well as behind, and on either side of that chariot of state, there rode the Queen's Guards; yet ahead of those who rode behind--he being nearest to the back of the carriage--was one who yielded to none in thankfulness and gratitude for all which Providence had seen fit to do for him. An officer this, one handed, his left arm bound up--it having been nearly lopped off at Blenheim by one of the Elector of Bavaria's huge dragoons, whom that officer slew a moment later with his right hand--whose scarf, sword knot, richly laced scarlet coat and gold cockade proclaimed him a colonel of horse--myself.

From where we entered the Strand--by the cross set up here--we saw that all the shops were boarded up and scaffolded, partly to resist the crowd and partly to furnish benches on which sight-seers might sit. On those benches, also in the shop windows, on the bulks and at the windows of the tradesmen's parlours above, was a noble and splendid company, the ladies of which had all adorned themselves with their choicest dresses and ribbons and laces, the more to do honour to those other two ladies in the great coach. Then, behind, came the lords of Parliament and the gentlemen of the Commons, also the Bishops in their wigs and lawn--each and all in coaches drawn by six horses--as well as many others of the nobility; while from the churches along the route, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, St. Mary's in the Strand and St. Clement's Danes, the bells clashed and clanged, and, inside, the organs blew and anthems pealed.

At Temple Bar there was a great halt, since the gates were shut, yet opened as the queen came to them, whereon my Lord Mayor, surrounded by the aldermen and sheriffs, in their red robes and on horses richly caparisoned, received Her Majesty, the former handing to her the sword of the city, which she at once returned; after which we progressed once more toward St. Paul's, where, later, the dean preached a moving sermon.