THE KING IS CROWNED!
The day of the coronation came at last. It was a bright clear day,
king's weather the Londoners called it.
The streets all along the route of the procession were crowded with
great masses of people, held back from the road by London bobbies. They
hung out of windows, sat in trees, covered the tops of buildings, and
filled immense grandstands. Some of them had been in their places all
night. Others, long before dawn, had found their way through the dark
streets. It seemed as though all the world was there, waiting
expectantly for the royal family.
When the procession came at last, wave after wave of cheering swept
along the crowds. From her place in a coach, Nan looked out on a merry
happy throng, for the king was well beloved by his people.
Nan, with others who were to surround the royal family in its moment of
triumph, was ushered through a side door of the Cathedral and taken to
her place under the great pointed arches. Here, in this church, every
English sovereign since the beginning of England's history had received
his crown, and here, now amid the tombs of kings and queens and the
distinguished dead of all ages, a new king and queen were to take their
vows.
These things ran through Nan's mind as she glanced about the Cathedral
and tried to locate her friends. Was that Bess that she saw in a gallery
high above her? And that Walter sitting next to her? Nan puckered her
brows and looked again. Yes, it was, and she had no more than found
them, when the deep tones of the great cathedral organ spread out
through the church. The Westminster choir joined in singing, "I was glad
when they said unto me, we will go into the House of the Lord."
With this, the king and queen entered, walking slowly and solemnly down
the long coronation carpet to the altar where they stopped and knelt.
During the service that followed, so solemn and serious that many in the
church were crying, Nan, for the first time began to realize what a
great honor had been bestowed upon her in allowing her to be present.
She felt humble and insignificant as the ceremony proceeded from one
climax to another.
When the Archbishop of Canterbury finally placed the crown on the
king's head and said, "God crown you with a crown of glory and
righteousness," no other sound could be heard under the great vaulted
arches. Then, as he finished his words, drums and trumpets broke into a
clamor and the shout of "God Save the King!" rang through the Abbey,
from floor to roof, while far away outside, guns announced to the
waiting throngs that a new king had been crowned.
The peers put on their coronets. In the same manner as the king, the
queen was crowned. The peeresses put on their coronets.
When it was all over, a procession formed and passed, under the slanting
rays of light that came through the big rose windows, to the wide open
doors and then out, where all London waited to sing and shout, "May the
King live forever! Long live the King!"
"I'll never forget it," Nan said to her friends, her Lakeview Hall
friends and Jeanie, Hetty, and Maureen at the tea that followed. It was
the tea that had been planned so long before on the boat, and was given
now by Hetty's grandmother in honor of Nan so that all might hear of the
wonderful things that had been happening.
"Nor will we," her friends echoed, for each had seen something special
in the coronation.
So we will leave them, comparing notes on the biggest event of their
summer holidays. As we go out, it's Hetty who turns to Maureen and
reminds her, "Remember, grandmother said on the boat that you never can
tell what's going to happen to the likes of us."
Maureen nods her head, and Hetty adds as we close the door, "What
happened to Nan proves it."
You can hear them talking about it now and agreeing. You'll agree too,
if you read of their further adventures in the next exciting volume in
the series, "Nan Sherwood on the Mexican Border."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note: Obvious printer's errors were silently corrected.
Otherwise spelling, hyphenation, interpunction and syntax of the
original have been preserved.
End of Project Gutenberg's Nan Sherwood's Summer Holidays, by Annie Roe Carr