Lord Dundonald's banner. Corona. tion of scheme, the Dean of Westminster was naturally chosen, both from his position as the chief Presbyter in the Church of England, and also from his connexion with the Abbey in which the ceremony was to take place. It was his duty to receive the swords of the knights, lay them on the altar (erected for the purpose), and restore them to their owners with suitable admonitions. Under the altar were placed the banners of the deceased knights, during which ceremony the Dead March in Saul was played.1 The installations continued, at intervals more or less remote, till 1812, under the Regency, since which time they have ceased. In 1839 the Order underwent so extensive an enlargement and alteration, that no banners have since been added to those then hung in the Chapel. One remarkable degradation and restitution has taken place. Earl Dundonald's banner was, after the charges of fraud brought against him in 1814, taken from its place, and ignominiously kicked down the steps of the Chapel. After many vicissitudes, it was restored to the family upon his death; and in 1860, on the day of his funeral in the Abbey, by order of the Queen, was restored by the Lancaster Herald to its ancient support. In the place of the shield an unknown admirer has rudely carved, in Spanish, Cochrane • —Chili y Libertad viva !' 33. We return to the ordinary routine of the royal inauguGeorge II. rations. The coronation of George II. Oct. 11, 1727. was performed with all the pomp and magnificence that could be contrived; the present King differing so much from the last, that all the pageantry and splendour, badges and trappings of royalty, Gent. Mag. ut supra.-In 1803 the Queen and Princesses sat in the Dean's Gallery, at the south-west corner of the Nave, and were afterwards entertained in the Deanery. The knights, in their passage round the Nave, halted and made obeisance to them, the trumpets sounding the whole time of the procession. For a quarrel with the Dean on this occasion, see Chapter Book, November 4, 1727. The 'Veni Crea'tor' was omitted by mistake. (Lambeth Coronation Service.) were as pleasing to the son as they were irksome to the father. The dress of the Queen on this occasion was as fine as the accumulated riches of the city and suburbs could make it; for besides her own jewels (which were a great number, and very valuable), she had on her head and on her shoulders all the pearls she could borrow of the ladies of quality at one end of the town, and on her petticoat all the diamonds she could hire of the Jews and jewellers at the other; so that the appearance of her finery was a mixture of magnificence and meanness, not unlike the éclat of royalty in many other particulars when it comes to be really examined, and the sources traced to what money hires or flattery lends.1 34. The coronation of George III.2 is over,' says Horace CoronaWalpole,― tion of George III. 'Tis even a more gorgeous sight than I imagined. I saw the pro- Sept. 22, cession and the Hall; but the return was in the dark. In the morn- 1761. ing they had forgot the sword of state, the chairs for King and Queen, and their canopies. They used the Lord Mayor's for the first, and made the last in the Hall: so they did not set forth till noon; and then, by a childish compliment to the King, reserved the illumination of the Hall till his entry, by which means they arrived like a funeral, nothing being discernible but the plumes of the Knights of the Bath, which seemed the hearse. My Lady Towns 6 hend said she should be very glad to see a coronation, as she never had seen one. 'Why,' said I, 'Madam, you walked at the last?' Yes, child,' said she, but I saw nothing of it: I only looked to 'see who looked at me.' The Duchess of Queensberry walked! Her affectation that day was to do nothing preposterous. For the coronation, if a puppet-show could be worth a million, that is. The multitudes, balconies, guards, and processions, made Palace Yard the liveliest spectacle in the world: the Hall was the most glorious. The blaze of lights, the richness and variety of habits, the ceremonial, the benches of peers and peeresses, frequent and full, was as awful as a pageant can be; and yet for the King's sake and my own, I never wish to see another; nor am impatient to have my Lord Effingham's promise fulfilled. The King complained that 1 Lord Hervey, i. 88, 89.-This was caused by the loss of Queen Anne's jewels. It is noted, that whereas few gave half-a-guinea for places to see George II.'s coronation, and for an apartment forty guineas, in the time of George so few precedents were kept for their proceedings. Lord Effingham owned, the Earl Marshal's office had been strangely neglected; but he had taken such care for the future, that the next coronation would be regulated in the most exact manner imaginable. The number of peers and peeresses present was not very great; some of the latter, with no excuse in the world, appeared in Lord Lincoln's gallery, and even walked about the Hall indecently in the intervals of the procession. My Lady Harrington, covered with all the diamonds she could borrow, hire, or seize, and with the air of Roxana, was the finest figure at a distance; she complained to George Selwyn that she was to walk with Lady Portsmouth, who would have a wig, and a stick. 'Pho,' said he, 'you will only look as if you were taken 'up by the constable.' She told this everywhere, thinking the reflection was on my Lady Portsmouth. Lady Pembroke, alone at the head of the countesses, was the picture of majestic modesty; the Duchess of Richmond as pretty as nature and dress, with no pains of her own, could make her; Lady Spencer, Lady Sutherland, and Lady Northampton, very pretty figures. Lady Kildare, still beauty itself, if not a little too large. The ancient peeresses were by no means the worst party: Lady Westmoreland, still handsome, and with more dignity than all; the Duchess of Queensberry looked well, though her locks milk white; Lady Albemarle very genteel; nay, the middle age had some good representatives in Lady Holderness, Lady Rochford, and Lady Strafford, the perfectest little figure of all. My Lady Suffolk ordered her robes, and I dressed part of her head, as I made some of my Lord Hertford's dress; for you know, no profession comes amiss to me, from a tribune of the people to a habitmaker. Don't imagine that there were not figures as excellent on the other side: old Exeter, who told the King he was the handsomest man she ever saw; old Effingham and a Lady Say and Seale, with her hair powdered and her tresses black, were an excellent contrast to the handsome. Lord B- put on rouge upon his wife and the Duchess of Bedford in the Painted Chamber; the Duchess of Queensberry told me of the latter, that she looked like an orange-peach, half red and half yellow. The coronets of the peers and their robes disguised them strangely; it required all the beauty of the Dukes of Richmond and Marlborough to make them noticed. One there was, though of another species, the noblest figure I ever saw, the High Constable of Scotland, Lord Errol; as one saw him in a space capable of containing him, one admired him. At the wedding, dressed in tissue, he looked like one of the giants in Guildhall, new gilt. It added to the energy of his person, that one considered him acting so |