most particularly to the Earl
of Glengall, he with the greatest kindness made me his page upon that
memorable occasion. This certainly was a very distinguished mark of his
friendship, for only one Esquire was allotted to each peer, and the
greatest interest was made to obtain those appointments.

The eventful morning came; and London presented at day-break crowds of
carriages of every description, and its floating population pouring in
dense masses to every point that possessed the slightest degree of
interest. Lord Glengall, in order to avoid the misery of passing through
crowded streets, and of being every moment impeded in his course, engaged
apartments in Lambeth, at Godfrey and Jule's, the boat-builders, where he
slept the night preceding. His lordship had appointed me to breakfast with
him there, at six o'clock on that eventful morning; I was resolved to be
in time, and at half past two, A. M., I left my home and fell in with a
line of carriages on my way toward Westminster bridge. I found that many
of them had been there from twelve the preceding night; peers and
peeresses in their robes, gently moving, not hastening, to the desired
spot. After waiting some two hours with exemplary patience, and finding my
case entirely hopeless, I wisely took the precaution of driving to the
water-side at Chelsea, for the purpose of procuring a boat. As it is
possible that some of the distinguished artists of the day may wish to
convey my appearance to posterity, I will give a description of my dress;
and I shall also feel greatly obliged, if at the same time they will
select the best-looking portrait of me for the likeness: a scarlet tunic,
embroidered with gold-thread; a purple satin sash, with a deep gold
fringe; a ruff _a la Elizabeth_; white satin pantaloons; shoes with
crimson rosettes; black velvet hat and feathers. My hair, not naturally
curling, had been put in graceful _papillote_ the preceding evening. As I
write in the reign of Queen VICTORIA, the reader will readily believe that
people are not much in the habit of walking about the streets in such a
costume. Imagine therefore my arrival at the watermen's landing very soon
after five o'clock in the morning; a splendid sun pouring, if not
absolutely a flood of light, yet its lovely beams upon my person. Crowds
of little girls and boys instantly gathered on the spot, receiving me with
small voices but loud huzzahs, as I descended from the carriage. A boat
was immediate