Being invited the day previous to occupy part of a window in Upper Sackville Street, I was stationed at my allotted place, at an early hour, with an out-stretched neck and open eyes.  My own colour differing from those about me, I attracted not a little attention from many; and often, when gazing down the street to see if the Royal procession was in sight, would find myself eyed by all around.  But neither while at the window, or in the streets, was I once insulted.  This was so unlike the American prejudice, that it seemed strange to me.  It was near twelve o’clock before the procession entered Sackville Street, and when it did all eyes seemed to beam with delight.  The first carriage contained only Her Majesty and the Prince Consort; the second, the Royal children; and the third, the Lords in Waiting.  Fifteen carriages were used by those that made up the Royal party.  I had a full view of the Queen and all who followed in the train.  Her Majesty—­whether from actual love for her person, or the novelty of the occasion, I know not which—­was received everywhere with the greatest enthusiasm.  One thing, however, is certain, and that is—­Queen Victoria is beloved by her subjects.

But the grand fete was reserved for the evening.  Great preparations had been made to have a grand illumination on the occasion, and hints were thrown out that it would surpass anything ever witnessed in London.  In this they were not far out of the way; for all who witnessed the scene admitted that it could scarcely have been surpassed.  My own idea of an illumination, as I had seen it in the backwoods of my own native land, dwindled into nothing when compared with this magnificent affair.

In company with a few friends, and a lady under my charge, I undertook to pass through Sackville and one or two other streets, about eight o’clock in the evening, but we found it utterly impossible to proceed.  Masses thronged the streets, and the wildest enthusiasm seemed to prevail.  In our attempt to cross the bridge, we were wedged in and lost our companions; and on one occasion I was separated from the lady, and took shelter under a cart standing in the street.  After being jammed and pulled about for nearly two hours, I returned to my lodgings, where I found part of my company, who had come in one after another.  At eleven o’clock we had all assembled, and each told his adventures and “hairbreadth escapes;” and nearly every one had lost a pocket handkerchief or something of the kind:  my own was among the missing.  However, I lost nothing; for a benevolent lady, who happened to be one of the company, presented me with one which was of far more value than the one I had lost.