Such was the aspect of the locality at the time that, amidst deafening and renewed acclamations, the royal barges, on board of which were the Queen and her court, approached the landing-place of the fortress. A guard of honour was waiting to receive them; and the commander-in-chief, Lord Hunsdon, with his staff, were also in attendance. A troop of sumpter-horses, too, under the charge of the royal equerries, waited close by, and everything was prepared to convey the Queen to the field.
A salute of one hundred guns was opened as Elizabeth stepped on the shore. She bowed her head to the guard, who had presented arms; and then, with a bright smile, extended her hand to the general, Lord Hunsdon.
“A fair day to you, my Lord General,” she cried. “Are we for the field to-day?”
“An’ it shall please your Highness to be our leader,” replied the old warrior.
“That will it, heartily!” returned the Queen. “Ho, for a horse!”
A noble steed, white as snow, and brilliantly caparisoned, was brought forward immediately, and drawn up before her. She paused to survey him a moment, and, seemingly pleased with his appearance, then caught up the rein, and suffered herself to be raised to the saddle. When she had settled herself on the saddle, she turned to Lord Hunsdon, and, with a smile, directed him, as her lieutenant, to mount a horse at her side. The ladies and cavaliers of her train mounted in her rear, and, the whole party being horsed, the Queen led the way, in company with Lord Hunsdon, towards the neighbouring field.
The gate of the fort on the London side, leading to Tilbury Level, had been thrown wide open, in order that the cavalcade might sustain no delay; and a strong force of archers, selected from the Queen’s guard, walled the avenue on either side, so as to keep it clear of the crowd. But the appearance of the Queen in the gateway quickly altered this state of things. The guard of archers was broken through in a moment; the people covered the lately open avenue like dust; and the roar of the artillery itself, though proceeding from the adjacent batteries, was lost in a tremendous shout of “God save the Queen!”
Never before or since were subjects so intoxicated at the presence of their sovereign. Men threw themselves down before her, in the dust, to be trampled on by her horse; young gallants threw up their plumed caps, when, from the density of the crowd, they could never hope to recover them, merely to show how they held everything to be hers; and afar off, above a thousand heads, were seen young children, waving their tiny arms, and invoking Heaven’s benison on their matchless monarch.