What became of Lady Katherine Grey immediately after the marriage of the queen is not recorded. From Winchester the royal couple went to Basing Hall for their honeymoon, where they were splendidly entertained by the Marquis of Winchester; but as the suites of the queen and her consort were, to use Dominie Sampson’s expression, “prodeegious,” both in quality and quantity, a large contingent of them rode on to London to await their majesties’ arrival. After a week at Basing Hall, the royal couple, with their courts, proceeded, in mended weather, to Windsor. The cavalcade consisted of fifty-two of the lumbering but vividly painted coaches then in vogue, containing about a dozen persons each: that occupied by the prince and the queen, who sat opposite each other precisely as they would have done in an omnibus, was the only one painted scarlet. The passage of the royal party and their suite through the hamlets, villages, and small towns on the way, created, we may be sure, a delightful impression upon the country-folks, unaccustomed to seeing so many gay coaches, litters, cavaliers, and horsemen. Long before the interminable cortège reached Windsor, the sun shone out gloriously, as the noble silhouette of the incomparable castle, with its round and square towers rising majestically from the midst of its delicious surroundings of every tint of verdure, burst upon the delighted English and the surprised Spaniards, who had no conception that England—which, according to their letters home, they considered a land of barbarians—contained any palace so superb: one that coul until August 27, in that fair riverside palace, of which, unfortunately, so little has survived. On the morning of that day, Philip and Mary, in their state barges, escorted by nearly a hundred other craft, some of them manned by as many as forty oarsmen, rowed down the river to Suffolk Place, Southwark, where they spent the night before making their state entry into London. In those days, Suffolk Place, of which only a memory remains in the name of a mean court, was one of the most magnificent Tudor residences in England. It had been inherited by the queen’s uncle, Charles Brandon, from his uncle Thomas, and sumptuously furnished for the reception of the queen-dowager, Mary Tudor. In the reign of Edward VI it was converted into a mint, but was now refurnished for the reception of Prince Philip. It is not likely that either the Lady Frances, or her daughters Katherine and Mary, were included in the state procession that started for Westminster from Suffolk Place early in the morning of the 28th of August. The tragedy of Lady Jane was too fresh in the minds of the people for it to be prudent to recall it too forcibly by the presence in a public function of the mother and sisters of the numerous victims. The state entry of Philip and Mary into the metropolis must have been very curious, if only on account of the number of giants which, for some unexplained reason, formed part of the usual pageants along the road: their towering height contrasted sharply with the very diminutive stature of the queen. Of greater interest probably to the people of London than this state entry was another procession which passed through the streets some months later, bearing to the Tower no less than ninety-seven iron chests, each a yard and a quarter in length, and reported to contain a quantity of Spanish silver, which, says Machyn, “will mak by estymacyon 1 thousand pounds.” These chests were carried in carts specially constructed for the purpose, and guarded by Spaniards in rich liveries, and were greeted, so it was noted, with greater enthusiasm than was shown for either the prince or the queen. Naturally the people were well pleased to see so tangible a proof that the national exchequer, which had been emptied by Henry VIII and by the protector, under Edward VI, was being thus replenished by the otherwise intolerable Spaniards.