It was a scene such as the eye had rarely beheld. On one side appeared the shore of Kent, backed by the height of Windmill Hill, and falling down towards Gravesend, when it swept round a graceful curve of the river, in a long, verdant level, towards the point since called Milton. Then came the river, bright as a mirror, with its broad bosom, here seeming to expand into a noble bay, covered with every description of craft, all filled with passengers, and decked with a thousand streamers. The grim fortress, bristling with cannon, yet scarcely rising from the low ground on which it was situated, then prepared one for the warlike scene beyond. There the spirit thrilled before the interest and singularity of the expansive prospect. The verdant heights in the background, running from the village of Tilbury towards London, sparkled with white tents, and streamer-capped marquees, forming the army’s camp. On the extensive level in their front stood the army, fifty thousand strong, and embracing, as was before stated, the strength and flower of England’s chivalry. To conclude, the vast area was enclosed, beyond a picket of volunteer cavalry, by one impenetrable mass of spectators, men, women, and children, all dressed in their gayest apparel, and animated by one common feeling of nationality and patriotism. 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.