It was a very simple ceremony on Saturday, and a very simple though effective procession. The King and Queen, in the splendid new State landau, drawn by the familiar cream-coloured ponies, and accompanied by member of their family and great officers of State in other carriages, and escorted by detachments of bluejackets, cavalry and artillery, with aides-de-camp and Head Quarters' staff, rode from Buckingham Palace to the Guildhall, and after lunching there returned by way of South London, stopping four times on the way to and fro—to receive addresses from the County Council, the Northern Metropolitan Boroughs" and those of the southern side, and to go through the customary ceremony at the City boundary. The King looked as robust and the Queen as beautiful as ever, and both seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly and to be but little fatigued by the duty of constantly responding to the greetings of their people. One of the most interesting incidents of the day was the passing of thirty-two survivors of Balaclava, drawn up in the Fleet Street within the line of soldiers keeping the route. These veterans were the guests of Mr. T. R. Roberts the publisher, who has for some years devoted himself to their welfare; and the interest of the incident was enhanced by the circumstance that the day happened to be St. Crispin's—the forty-eighth anniversary of the charge of the Light Brigade, as well as the four hundred and eighty-seventh anniversary of Agincourt.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.