Memoirs of Caroline Queen of England. 
[Sept. K 
was, however, still withheld, and not 
given till the moment when the body 
was removed to the hearse. It now 
appeared that the most retired ways 
had been selected, and particular in¬ 
junctions were given that it should not 
proceed in the direct road through 
London. This arrangement the people 
were, however, anxious to frustrate, 
and the head of the cortege found all 
tile avenues which led to the north, 
blockaded with overturned carts, wag¬ 
gons, &c. By a feint it passed Hyde 
Park down Piccadilly, but on a sud¬ 
den the hearse was turned about, the 
advanced people and carriages left be¬ 
hind, anti the body drawn into Hyde 
Park. It proceeded by a quick trot to 
leach Tyburn gate, but the people 
fled before it, shut the gate, and began 
to barricade Edgware road. A party 
of horse guards in the mean time forced 
the gate, rode over and cut down the 
people, who returned vollies of stones. 
On this, a boy officer fired his pistol, 
and shot an inoffensive man, when the 
troops began a general firing, by which 
another innocent man was killed, and 
many wounded. The procession now 
passed by Edgeware and the New Roads 
to Tottenham Court Road, where afresh 
blockade, and the want of a competent 
military force, obliged the conductors 
to pass down St. Giles’s, while other 
barricadoes at the end of Holborn, 
and Great Queen-street, forced them to 
proceed along Drury Lane to Temple 
Bar. Here ended this disgraceful and 
never to be forgotten contest. The 
Corporation assembled suddenly, and 
led the procession peaceably through 
the city; but such w 7 as the perverse 
spirit of power, that although the pro¬ 
cession was nine hoars in moving from 
Hammersmith to Whitechapel, it was 
hurried on to Chelmsford, and was not 
allowed to rest till four in the morning! 
It was subsequently hurried on to Har¬ 
wich, and with little or no ceremony, 
embarked in a frigate for Germany. 
In conclusion we may observe that 
this Princess had endeared herself to the 
people of these realms by her unshaken 
virtue under the severest trials-—by the 
urbanity of her character, combined 
with, an amiable condescension of man¬ 
ners—by an habitual benevolence and 
goodness of heart which she never ceased 
to exert—and by vigour of mind and 
extent of intelligence which qualified 
her to endure persecutions as unex¬ 
ampled as protracted ; while as Queen 
consort, she inspired the best hopes of 
the nation in the ardent affection which 
she cherished for the British people, 
and in the public testimonials which 
she repeatedly gave of her respect to 
the laws and constitution, and of her 
devotion to the principles of civil and 
religious liberty. 
The sympathy of the people was 
peculiarly drawn forth at her death, by 
contrasting the flattering prospects and 
auspicious circumstances which attend¬ 
ed her first landing in England, with 
the events of which she became the vic¬ 
tim : in being separated from conjugal 
ties, and from a court, of which she was 
qualified to be the brightest ornament, 
—in being the object of secret investiga¬ 
tions, which though terminating in the 
disgrace of false accusers, wounded the 
delicate sense of female honour—in 
being d eprived of the society of a beloved 
daughter, whose affections constituted 
her only solace, and whose premature 
death left her without hope—in having 
her father and brother successively cut 
off in the field of battle—in suffering 
the loss of a generous protector in the 
late king—in being driven into exile 
in the hope of finding repose in distant 
countries, yet every where followed by 
the same persevering malice, and beset 
by spies, whose interest led them to 
misinterpret every action of her life— 
and when at length on becoming a part¬ 
ner in the throne of this great empire, 
she sought to enjoy her dignities, and 
presented herself to a greeting and sym¬ 
pathising people, by finding herself the 
object of renewed persecutions—yet 
though again triumphant, in being nei¬ 
ther restored to her rights as queen 
consort, nor permitted to fill the public 
station in society to which she was en¬ 
titled by rank and birth. 
Under such accumulated wrongs and 
complicated sufferings, she displayed 
to the last day of her life, unshaken 
firmness and dauntless courage, accom¬ 
panied by an equanimity of mind which 
enabled her to baffle, if not extinguish 
the malice of her enemies. At length 
female sensibility yielded to the various 
and combined arts by which she was 
incessantly assailed, and after a few 
days illness, she left to her friends and 
partisans only the painful duty of la¬ 
menting her misfortunes, and paying 
an unavailing tribute to her virtues, by 
attending her last obsequies, in which 
last hope they were nevertheless disap¬ 
pointed by a series of vexatious manoeu¬ 
vres. 
CORNUCOPIA 
