at the Civil Marriage, and was as pale as death yesterday—however, even with the high and determined spirit she is supposed to have, this might be expected. Lady Cowley had been kind enough to send us an invitation, of which we were tempted to avail ourselves.[1] Nothing could be more splendid than the decorations of the Cathedral—velvet and ermine—gold and silver—flags and hangings of all colours were combined and harmonised with the splendid costumes of the Clergy, the uniforms, civil and military, and the magnificent dresses of the ladies. The greatest mistake was the conflict of lights—the windows not having been darkened, though countless thousands of wax candles were lighted. The music was very fine. . . . The object of our neighbours seemed to be to scan and criticise the dress of the Bride, and the wonderful penetration and accuracy of their eagle glances was to us something incredible! Certainly, though unable ourselves at such a distance to appreciate the details of her dress or the expression of her countenance, we saw her distinctly enough to be able to say that a more lovely coup d'œil could not be conceived. Her beautifully chiselled features and marble complexion, her nobly set-on head, her exquisitely proportioned figure and graceful carriage were most striking, and the whole was like a Poet’s Vision! I believe she is equally beautiful when seen close, but at a distance at which we saw her the effect was something more than that of a lovely picture, it was aerial, ideal. On the classically shaped head she wore a diamond crown or diadem, round her waist a row of magnificent diamonds to correspond, and the same as trimming round the “basques” of her gown. Then a sort of cloud or mist of transparent lace enveloped her, which had the effect of that for which, when speaking of the hills in Scotland, Princess Hohenlohe could find no English word, “Duft.” I hope your Royal Highness will not think me very much carried by what pleases the eye. I felt all the while that one could view the matter but as an outside show; as such, in as far as she was concerned, it was exquisitely beautiful—and I suppose that a sort of national prejudice made me attribute the grace and dignity of the scene, for what there was of either came from her, to the blood of Kirkpatrick !!!
The carriages were ugly and the Procession by no means fine, and those in which the Bridal party afterwards travelled to St Cloud, were driven by individuals in the famous theatrical costume of the well-known “Postillon de Longjumeau!”[2]..
