Farmer George, Volume 1

letter did not specify which of the twices it was. Well, the bridesmaids

Chapter 81,253 wordsPublic domain

whipt on their virginity; the New Road and the Parks were thronged; the guns were choking with impatience to go off; and Sir James Lowther, who was to pledge his Majesty, was actually married to Lady Mary Stuart. Five, six, seven, eight o'clock came, and no queen."

The Queen had remained on board until three o'clock on Monday afternoon, so as to allow time for the preparations incidental to her reception. She then drove to Colchester, which was reached at five o'clock, and from there went on to Witham, where she stayed overnight at Lord Abercorn's.[137] Leaving Witham early in the morning, the Queen arrived at noon at Romford, where she was met by the King's coaches and servants. She entered one of the royal carriages, dressed in "a fly-cap with rich lace lappets, a stomacher ornamented with diamonds, and a gold brocade suit of clothes with a white ground." Her companions desired her to curl her _toupée_ but this she declined to do on the ground that it looked as well as that of any of the ladies sent to fetch her, adding that if the King wished her to wear a periwig she would do so, but otherwise would remain as she was.

[137] James, eighth Earl of Abercorn (1712-1789), carried his independence to a disconcerting bluntness. When he presented himself at St. James's, the King thanked him for his courtesy to the Queen, and said he feared his visit must have given him a good deal of trouble. "A good deal indeed," replied the Earl.

From Romford the Queen and her attendants, watched by immense crowds, proceeded to "Stratford-le-bow and Mile-end turnpike, where they turned up Dog-row, and prosecuted their journey to Hackney turnpike, then by Shoreditch Church, and up Old Street to the City-road, across Islington, along the New-road into Hyde Park, down Constitutional-hill into St. James's Park." At the sight of the Palace, the Queen turned pale, and, noticing that the Duchess of Hamilton smiled, "My dear Duchess," she said, "you may laugh; you have been married twice, but it is no joke to me." At twenty minutes past three in the afternoon she arrived at St. James's, and Walpole remarked that the "noise of the coaches, chaises, horsemen, mob, that have been to see her pass through the parks is so prodigious that I cannot distinguish the guns."

The King received his bride at the entrance to the palace, and, though he had chosen her for her "lasting beauties", was so surprised by the homeliness of her features that, says Galt, "an involuntary expression of the King's countenance revealed what was passing within." Lady Anne Hamilton goes so far as to say that, "At the first sight of the German Princess, the King actually shrank from her gaze, for her countenance was of that cast that too plainly told of the nature of the spirit working within,"[138] but this is almost certainly exaggeration, and may be dismissed with the following statement by the same author: "In the meantime the Earl of Abercorn informed the Princess of the previous marriage of the King and of the existence of his Majesty's wife; and Lord Harcourt advised the Princess to well inform herself of the policy of the kingdom, as a measure for preventing much future disturbance in the country, as well as securing an uninterrupted possession of the throne to her issue. Presuming therefore that the German Princess had hitherto been an open and ingenuous character, such expositions, intimations, and dark mysteries, were ill-calculated to nourish honourable feelings, but would rather operate as a check to their further existence. To the public eye the newly married pair were contented with each other; alas! it was because each feared an exposure to the nation. The King reproached himself that he had not fearlessly avowed the only wife of his affections; the Queen because she feared an explanation that the King was guilty of bigamy, and thereby her claim, as also that of her progeny (if she should have any), would be known to be illegitimate. It appears as if the result of those reflections formed a basis for the misery of millions, and added to that number millions yet unborn."[139]

[138] _Secret History of the Court of England._

[139] Lady Anne Hamilton: _Secret History_.

Lord Harcourt wrote from Strelitz of the bride as "no regular beauty", but credited her with a charming complexion, very pretty eyes, and a good figure, summing her up as a very fine girl, and Mrs. Papendiek, who came over with her, has placed on record a not dissimilar picture, "She was certainly not a beauty, but her countenance was expressive and intelligent. She was not tall, but of a slight, rather pretty figure; her eyes bright and sparkling with good humour and vivacity, her mouth large, but filled with white and even teeth, and her hair really beautiful." Walpole has said that within half-an-hour of her arrival in the metropolis one heard of nothing but proclamations of her beauty, but his first description of her was not flattering, and his second denies her all claim to good looks. "Her person was small and very lean, not well made; her face pale and homely, her nose somewhat flat and mouth very large. Her hair, however, was of a fine brown, and her countenance pleasing," he wrote on her arrival; but later remarked: "She had always been, if not ugly, at least ordinary, but in her later years her want of personal charms became, of course, less observable, and it used to be said that she was grown better-looking. I said one day something to this effect to Colonel Desbrowe, her Chamberlain. 'Yes,' he replied, 'I do think the _bloom_ of her ugliness is going off!'"

Immediately upon her arrival the King introduced to his bride the members of his family, and soon after the royal party sat down to dinner. Later the bridesmaids[140] and the Court were introduced, and in such numbers that she exclaimed as the long procession passed before her, "_Mon Dieu, il y en a tout, il y en a tout._" She bore herself with dignity, but was civil and good-humoured, showed pleasure when she was told she should kiss the peeresses, and betrayed a pretty reluctance to give her hand to be kissed by the humbler folk. At ten o'clock all repaired to the chapel where the marriage ceremony was repeated. The Queen was, of course, in bridal costume, and Walpole thought she looked very sensible, cheerful, and remarkably genteel. "Her tiara of diamonds was very pretty, her stomacher was sumptuous," he commented: "her violet-velvet mantle so heavy that the spectators know as much of her upper half as the King himself." This was a trying ordeal after a long journey, but the Queen forgot or disguised her fatigue, and when the party returned to the drawing-room, was quite cheerful, played the spinet and sang while the company was waiting for supper, talked French with some guests and German with her attentive husband. "It does not promise," said Walpole, "as if they would be the two most unhappy people in England."

[140] The bridesmaids, dressed in white lustring with silver trimmings ornamented with pearls and diamonds, were chosen from the unmarried daughters of dukes and earls, and were ten in number: Lady Sarah Lennox, Lady Caroline Russell, Lady Anne Hamilton, Lady Elizabeth Kerr, Lady Harriet Bentinck, Lady Caroline Montague, Lady Elizabeth Keppel, Lady Louisa Greville, Lady Elizabeth Harcourt, and Lady Susan Fox Strangways.