the rest of the company is not mentioned, but
clearly the Guildhall could have been no place for them. That was
summarily occupied by an army of carpenters. The tables were struck and
carried out. The hustings, where the great folks had dined, and the
floor of which had been covered with rich carpeting, was covered afresh,
and the whole hall rapidly got ready for the ball, with which the
festivities were to conclude. On the return of their majesties, and as
soon as they were seated under the canopy, the ball was opened by the
Duke of York and the Lady Mayoress. It does not appear that the royal
couple took the floor, but "other minuets succeeded by the younger
branches of the royal family with ladies of distinction."

About midnight Georgius Rex, beginning probably to get sleepy with all
this derangement of his ordinarily methodical way of living, signified
his desire to take his departure; but things are not always possible
even when kings are in question. Such was the hurry and confusion
outside--at least that is the reason assigned by the chronicler--that
there was great delay in fetching up the royal carriages to the
Guildhall door. Our own impression is that the coachmen were all drunk,
not excepting the state coachman himself. Their Majesties waited half an
hour before their coach could be brought up, and perhaps, after all the
interchange of civilities, went away in a tantrum at the end. It is
clear the Princess Dowager of Wales did, for she waited some time in the
temporary passage, "nor could she be prevailed on to retire into the
hall." There was no procession on the return from the City. The royal
people trundled home as they best might, and according as their
carriages came to hand. But we are told that on the return journey,
past midnight as it was, the crowd in some places was quite as great as
it had been in the daytime, and that Mr. Pitt was vociferously cheered
all the way to his own door. The King and Queen did not get home to St.
James's till two o'clock in the morning, and it is a confirmation of the
suggestion that the coachman must have been drunk, that in turning under
the gate one of the glasses of their coach was broken by the roof of the
sentry-box. As for the festive people left behind in the Guildhall, they
kept the ball up till three o'clock, and we are told that "the whole was
concluded with the utmost regularity and decorum." Indeed, Sir Samuel
Fludyer's Lord Mayor's day appears to have bee