After the Prince had taken leave of his Spanish escort, and had gone on board an English fleet at Santander, whither it had put in to fetch him away, contrary winds, or, in the words of a contemporary narrative, ‘the brothers Boreas and Eurus,’ for a while delayed his departure. We are assured that people in England never regarded the weathercocks and the direction of the smoke and of the clouds with more painful anxiety than at that time. Even among the dependents of the royal house many almost gave up the Prince as lost; for who, they said, could trust the word of the Spaniards? The Protestant part of the population thought that he would at least be compelled to abjure his religion. At last the wind subsided. On October 5, after an absence of almost eight months, the Prince arrived in Portsmouth, and the day after in London. The universal joy with which he was received was indescribable: all business was at a standstill; the shops were shut; nothing was seen but waggons driving backwards and forwards, laden with the wood intended for the bonfires which blazed at evening in all the open squares, at all corners of the streets, even in the inner courts, but were most brilliant and costly at the Guildhall. The joyful acclamations of the multitude mingled with the sound of the bells; people congratulated each other that the heir to the throne had returned as he had gone, and that without the Infanta; for this marriage had never been popular; but above all, that he returned rather confirmed than shaken in his religion.