Great multitudes of people from all the neighbouring shires had come up to see the show.  Never had the City been in a more loyal or more joyous mood.  The evil days were past.  The guinea had fallen to twenty-one shillings and sixpence.  The bank note had risen to par.  The new crowns and halfcrowns, broad, heavy and sharply milled, were ringing on all the counters.  After some days of impatient expectation it was known, on the fourteenth of November, that His Majesty had landed at Margate.  Late on the fifteenth he reached Greenwich, and rested in the stately building which, under his auspices, was turning from a palace into a hospital.  On the next morning, a bright and soft morning, eighty coaches and six, filled with nobles, prelates, privy councillors and judges, came to swell his train.  In Southwark he was met by the Lord Mayor and the Aldermen in all the pomp of office.  The way through the Borough to the bridge was lined by the Surrey militia; the way from the bridge to Walbrook by three regiments of the militia of the City.  All along Cheapside, on the right hand and on the left, the livery were marshalled under the standards of their trades.  At the east end of Saint Paul’s churchyard stood the boys of the school of Edward the Sixth, wearing, as they still wear, the garb of the sixteenth century.  Round the Cathedral, down Ludgate Hill and along Fleet Street, were drawn up three more regiments of Londoners.  From Temple Bar to Whitehall gate the trainbands of Middlesex and the Foot Guards were under arms.  The windows along the whole route were gay with tapestry, ribands and flags.  But the finest part of the show was the innumerable crowd of spectators, all in their Sunday clothing, and such clothing as only the upper classes of other countries could afford to wear.  “I never,” William wrote that evening to Heinsius, “I never saw such a multitude of welldressed people.”  Nor was the King less struck by the indications of joy and affection with which he was greeted from the beginning to the end of his triumph.  His coach, from the moment when he entered it at Greenwich till he alighted from it in the court of Whitehall, was accompanied by one long huzza.  Scarcely had he reached his palace when addresses of congratulation, from all the great corporations of his kingdom, were presented to him.  It was remarked that the very foremost among those corporations was the University of Oxford.  The eloquent composition in which that learned body extolled the wisdom, the courage and the virtue of His Majesty, was read with cruel vexation by the nonjurors, and with exultation by the Whigs.823