would not be the seat of war.  The houses and gardens, the kitchens and dairies, the cellars and plate chests, the wives and daughters of our gentry and clergy would not be at the mercy of Irish Rapparees, who had sacked the dwellings and skinned the cattle of the Englishry of Leinster, or of French dragoons accustomed to live at free quarters on the Protestants of Auvergne.  Whigs and Tories joined in thanking God for this great deliverance; and the most respectable nonjurors could not but be glad at heart that the rightful King was not to be brought back by an army of foreigners.

The public joy was therefore all but universal.  During several days the bells of London pealed without ceasing.  Flags were flying on all the steeples.  Rows of candles were in all the windows.  Bonfires were at all the corners of the streets.270 The sense which the government entertained of the services of the navy was promptly, judiciously and gracefully manifested.  Sidney and Portland were sent to meet the fleet at Portsmouth, and were accompanied by Rochester, as the representative of the Tories.  The three Lords took down with them thirty-seven thousand pounds in coin, which they were to distribute as a donative among the sailors.271 Gold medals were given to the officers.272 The remains of Hastings and Carter were brought on shore with every mark of honour.  Carter was buried at Portsmouth, with a great display of military pomp.273 The corpse of Hastings was brought up to London, and laid, with unusual solemnity, under the pavement of Saint James’s Church.  The footguards with reversed arms escorted the hearse.  Four royal state carriages, each drawn by six horses, were in the procession; a crowd of men of quality in mourning cloaks filled the pews; and the Bishop of Lincoln preached the funeral sermon.274 While such marks of respect were paid to the slain, the wounded were not neglected.  Fifty surgeons, plentifully supplied with instruments, bandages, and drugs, were sent down in all haste from London to Portsmouth.275 It is not easy for us to form a notion of the difficulty which there then was in providing at short notice commodious shelter and skilful attendance for hundreds of maimed and lacerated men.  At present every county, every large town, can boast of some spacious palace in which the poorest labourer who has fractured a limb may find an excellent bed, an able medical attendant, a careful nurse, medicines of the best quality, and nourishment such as an invalid requires.  But there was not then, in the whole realm, a single infirmary supported by voluntary contribution.  Even in the capital the only edifices open to the wounded were the two ancient hospitals of Saint Thomas and Saint Bartholomew.  The Queen gave orders that in both these hospitals arrangements should be made at the public charge for the reception of patients from the fleet.276 At the same time it was announced that a noble and lasting memorial of the gratitude which England felt for the courage and patriotism