XVII. CHAP. Prebendaries on chairs within the rails of the altar. The choirs of the Queen's Chapel Royal and their music in the upper galleries on each side of the organ. The In the procession to the Cathedral the House of Commons led the way. At eight o'clock they proceeded to the palace at S. James's, then along Pall Mall, and so to the Cathedral, where they took their places. The Lords met at ten. The procession formed, preceded by the officers of the House, masters in chancery, judges, peers under age, then barons, bishops, viscounts, earls, dukes; then the great officers of state, the archbishops, and Sir Nathan Wright, Keeper of the Great Seal. They, too, went on to the Cathedral and took their seats. All the while till the arrival of the Queen the organ continued playing voluntaries. At 11 the Queen took coach at S. James's; at Temple Bar she was received by the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen on horseback. The Lord Mayor surrendered the sword with a short speech. Queen returned it, and the Lord Mayor bore it before her to the church. On her arrival at the West door the Queen was met by the peers and principal officers of state, and conducted up the nave to her throne. She knelt at her fald-stool, and after a short ejaculation' rose and seated herself. The music ceased. Dr. Stanley, a residentiary, read the first service. After which the Te Deum was sung, with vocal and instrumental music. The old Whig Bishop of Exeter, Sir Jonathan Trelawney, preached an 'excellent' sermon on Joshua vii. 9: 'But as for you, 'no man hath been able to stand before you this day.' It lasted about half an hour; then the anthem, prayers, benediction, no doubt from Compton. The Queen led the way back. The Tower guns, those on the river, and those in S. James's Park, were fired three times: once as the Queen left S. James's, the second time when the BLENHEIM AND OTHER VICTORIES. 431 Te Deum was chanted, the last on the Queen's return to Such was the model and precedent for royal processions and for royal receptions at S. Paul's. In the reign of Queen Anne they were repeated with glorious frequency. The second was to celebrate the victory of Blenheim, September 7, 1704. Parliament was not sitting. But the Peers, Privy Counsellors, and great officers of State were in attendance. There was a full service with the precommunion. The sermon was preached by the Dean of S. Paul's (Sherlock); Psalm lviii. 2, 'Doubtless there is a 'God that judgeth the earth.' Again, August 27, 1705, the Queen commemorated the forcing of the French lines at Tirlemont by the Duke of Marlborough; the sermon was by Dr. Willis, Dean of Lincoln. Again, July 1, 1706, for the battle of Ramilies and Lord Peterborough's successes in Catalonia; Stanhope, Dean of Canterbury, preached. Again, in 1706-7, January 1, for great and wonderful successes, and in May, 1707, the Bishops of Salisbury and Oxford preached. Again, in 1708 (August 23), for the battle of Oudenarde e; preacher, Bishop of S. Asaph. On July 7, 1713, was the thanksgiving for the Peace of Utrecht. Both Houses of Parliament attended in full state. The Queen signified her pleasure not to go to S. Paul's, but designed to return thanks to God for peace in her own closet. On this day was the first spectacle of the Charity Children in the streets, not yet in the Cathedral. They were said to be 4,000 in number, and to occupy a space of 620 feet, eight rows, one behind the other. Before this last great festival, about three years, the exterior of the Cathedral was adjudged to be complete. It stood with its perfect dome and encircling colonnades, its galleries and ball, and surmounting cross. In the year CHAP. XVII. XVII. CHAP. 1710, Sir Christopher Wren, by the hands of his son, attended by Mr. Strong, the master mason who had executed the whole work, and the body of Freemasons, of which Sir Christopher was an active member, laid the last and highest stone of the lantern of the cupola, with humble prayers for the Divine blessing on his work.2 If ever there was an occasion on which the heart of man might swell with pardonable pride, it was the heart of Wren at that hour, whether he himself was actually at the giddy summit of the building, or watched his son's act from below. The architect looked down, or looked up and around, on this great and matchless building, the creation of his own mind, the achievement of his sole care and skill. The whole building stretching out in all its perfect harmony, with its fine horizontal lines, various yet in perfect unison, its towers, its unrivalled dome, its crowning lantern and cross. All London had poured forth for the spectacle, which had been publicly announced, and were looking up in wonder to the old man, or his son if not the old man himself, who was, on that wondrous height, setting the seal, as it were, to his august labours. If in that wide circle (let us, however doubtful, lift the old man to that proud eminence), which his eye might embrace, there were various objects for regret and disappointment; if instead of beholding the spacious streets of the city, each converging to its centre, London had sprung up and spread in irregular labyrinths of close, dark, intricate lanes; if even his own Cathedral was crowded upon and jostled by mean and unworthy buildings; yet, on the other hand, he might survey, not the Cathedral only, but a number of stately churches, which had risen at his command and taken form and dignity from his genius and 2 In the Wren MS. there is a sentence which implies the presence of Wren himself at that giddy height, perhaps too much for his advanced age.-Elmes, p. 493. |