The Royal Dukes, Sussex, Kent,
York, and Gloucester, were each drawn by six horses and escorted by a
separate party of the Guards. It took eight horses to drag the
Prince himself to divine service, and he, too, was encompassed by
soldiers. Arrived at the cathedral, he was marshalled to a kind of
pew surmounted by a lofty crimson-and-gold canopy. There he sat
alone, worshipped his Creator, and listened to a sermon by the Bishop
of Chester. Neither Jean nor Pauline troubled themselves to go out,
and indeed it would not have been of much use if they had tried; for
it was by no means certain that Almighty God, who had been so kind as
to get rid of Napoleon, would not permit a row in the streets.
Consequently, every avenue which led to the line of the procession
was strictly blocked. They heard the music from a distance, and
although they both hated Bonaparte, it had not a pleasant sound in
their ears. It was the sound of triumph over Frenchmen, and,
furthermore, with all their dislike to the tyrant, they were proud of
his genius.
Walking towards Clerkenwell that evening, the streets being clear,
save for a number of drunken men and women, who were testifying to
the orthodoxy of their religious and political faith by rolling about
the kennel in various stages of intoxication, Jean pressed Zachariah
to go upstairs with him.
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