eave from him to sit in his window from dinner onwards, that I
might see the show.

It was about five o'clock that the affair began; and the day was pretty
dark by then. A great number of people began to assemble little by
little, up Fleet Street on the one side, the Strand on the other, and
down Chancery Lane in the midst; for it was announced everywhere, and
even by criers in some parts, that the procession would take place and
would end at Temple Bar. My Lord Shaftesbury, who had lately lost the
presidency of the Council, had rendered himself irreconcilable with the
Duke of York, and his only hope (as well as of others with him) lay in
ruining His Highness. All this, therefore, was designed to rouse popular
feeling against the Duke and the Catholic cause. So this was my welcome
home again!

It was strange to watch the folks assembling, and the gradual kindling
of the flambeaux. In the windows on either side of the street were set
candles; and a line of coaches was drawn up against the gutter on the
further side. But still more strange and disconcerting were the
preparations already made to receive the procession. An open space was
kept by fellows with torches to the east of the City Gate; and here,
looking towards the City, with her back to the Gate, close beside the
Pillory, stood Queen Bess in effigy, upon a pedestal, as it were a
Protestant saint in her shrine; for the day had been chosen on account
of its being the day of her accession and of Queen Mary's death. She was
set about with gilded laurel-wreaths, and bore a gilded sceptre; and
beneath her, like some sacrificial fire, blazed a great bonfire, roaring
up to heaven with its sparks and smoke. Half a dozen masked fellows, in
fantastic dresses, tended the bonfire and replenished the flambeaux that
burned about the effigy. Indeed it was strangely like some pagan
religious spectacle--the goddess at the entrance of her temple (for the
gate looked like that); and the resemblance became more marked as the
ceremonies were performed which ended the show. A Catholic might well be
pardoned for retorting "Idolatry," and saying that he preferred Mary
Queen of Heaven to Bess Queen of England.

It was from Moorfields that the procession came, and it took a good
while to come. But I was entertained enough by the sight of all the
people, to pass the time away. A number of gentlefolks opposite to my
window sat on platforms, all wrapped up in furs, and some of them
masked,