The Express.
London, England, 1863-03-09 00:00:00

SOUTHWARK.

The procession was formed in the station-yard
in a few minutes, and here the faithful chronicler
has a most unpleasant duty to perform. He has to
accuse the weather of being out of harmony with a
million and a half of people, by raining on the
Princess just as she began her triumphal march
through London. At five minutes past two the
royal procession began its journey, and at five
minutea past two a sharp shower came down upon
the heads of the performers and the audience. An
attempt to shut in the royal carriage was met by
strong signs of disapproval by the black mass of
spectators ; and the popular wish was acceded to
by the royal party just as the clouds began to dis-
perse. The muscular pushing crowd on the foot-
ways on each side of the Old Kent-road and the
Dover-road was in no humour to be baulked of the
show which it had waited patiently five or six
hours to see. The shops, houses, balconies,
rook churchyards, and even tress, craw
med full of swaying, eager-looking human
beings, were all deter:mufti that Ophelia
should not be shut out of the Danish play. The I
sisging of children, the shouting of men, the
pealing of church bells, the crash of military betide,
and the roar of voices, made a strange, impressive,
deafening sound as soon as the procession got fairly
under weigh. The fluttering of thousands of flags,
the waving of thousands of handkerchiefs, the lines
of streamers quivering from house-top to house-top,
the dingiest houses wearing a strange mask of orna-
mental devices ; the " welcomes" and short prayers
plastered on every projection ; the long walls of
human faces—faces of old and young, male and
female—planted as thickly as leaves in a forest,
formed a sight in which all want of harmony iu
colour, and all meanness of detail, were lost in one
grand impressive whole. The dammed-up mass on
the pavements and in the gutters flowed thickly and
painfully, drawn on by the procession. Then
began the struggle with the police—the fight
in too many cases foe life and air. The policemen,
who strove manfully, and almost savagely, to do'
their duty, and to keep the line of the procession
from being hopelessly mixed up with the struggling
outside crowd, were tossed about like straws in a
high wind. Ohildren were held high above the
human whirlpools, to save them from a peril they
ought never to have been exposed to. Here and
there a small gap in the crowd and piercing shrieks
that rose even above the festive and almost
heartless clamour of bells and trumpets pointed out
a spot where a few had been pressed down and
were being trampled upon. The procession itself,
at points like the junction of the two Kent-roads,
the entrance to the Borough from Dover-street, and
the passage up the hill on to Loudon-bridge, was
only preserved from utter dispersion by great exer-
tion and violent cohesive force, especially in its
rear ranks. The foot troops who were at the tail of
the show had their ranks broken several times, and
once they had to form a square and threaten to use
the butt-ends of their muskets.
The march past St George's-church and through
the broad part of the Borough was like
filing through • deep valley, shut in by high
mountains of human beings. Across this noble
thoroughfare—one of the most striking parts of the
whole route—a large triumphal arch was erected in
the widest part of the High-street. It spanned the
road with three arches, and rose to a height of 60
feet, surmounted by a rich cornice. The middle
arch, about 30 feet wide, formed the passage for the
procession to pass through, and the keystone of this
was a lion's head! holding festoons of flowers. The
pediment of this structure contained allegorical
figures representing History, Peace, Poetry, and
Painting. The pilasters on each side were half-
covered with evergreens and flowers, studded here
and there with devices. The arms of England and
Denmark were displayed on each side, and the
Prince of Wales's feathers were used as a lofty
central ornament.

The site of the old Town-ball—now a builder's

.desert--ITaaBlled with a large gallery containing
the charity children of the local schools, who sang
as the prooesaion passed. The ugly iron railway-
&nth which spans the Borough by Bt. Thomas's
Hospital, had neither flower, flag, nor festoon, but
its dull-lead colour was relieved by some peculiar
ornaments. These were a few of the railway
labourers in their working dresses who stood on
a narrow ledge, or hung suspended over the edge
of the bridge by a frail painter's platform. The
danger to them was probably not so great as to the
Icrowd below, who would certainly have been the
greatest sufferers by any fall from above.