ARLINGTON STREET, _Sept._ 10, 1761.
When we least expected the Queen, she came, after being ten days at sea,
but without sickness for above half-an-hour. She was gay the whole
voyage, sung to her harpsichord, and left the door of her cabin open.
They made the coast of Suffolk last Saturday, and on Monday morning she
landed at Harwich; so prosperously has his Majesty's chief eunuch, as
they have made the Tripoline ambassador call Lord Anson, executed his
commission. She lay that night at your old friend Lord Abercorn's, at
Witham [in Essex]; and, if she judged by her host, must have thought she
was coming to reign in the realm of taciturnity. She arrived at St.
James's a quarter after three on Tuesday the 8th. When she first saw the
Palace she turned pale: the Duchess of Hamilton smiled. "My dear
Duchess," said the Princess, "_you_ may laugh; you have been married
twice; but it is no joke to me." Is this a bad proof of her sense? On
the journey they wanted her to curl her toupet. "No, indeed," said she,
"I think it looks as well as those of the ladies who have been sent for
me: if the King would have me wear a periwig, I will; otherwise I shall
let myself alone." The Duke of York gave her his hand at the
garden-gate: her lips trembled, but she jumped out with spirit. In the
garden the King met her; she would have fallen at his feet; he prevented
and embraced her, and led her into the apartments, where she was
received by the Princess of Wales and Lady Augusta: these three
princesses only dined with the King. At ten the procession went to
chapel, preceded by unmarried daughters of peers, and peeresses in
plenty. The new Princess was led by the Duke of York and Prince William;
the Archbishop married them; the King talked to her the whole time with
great good humour, and the Duke of Cumberland gave her away. She is not
tall, nor a beauty; pale, and very thin; but looks sensible; and is
genteel. Her hair is darkish and fine; her forehead low, her nose very
well, except the nostrils spreading too wide; her mouth has the same
fault, but her teeth are good. She talks a good deal, and French
tolerably; possesses herself, is frank, but with great respect to the
King. After the ceremony, the whole company came into the drawing-room
for about ten minutes, but nobody was presented that night. The Queen
was in white and silver; an endless mantle of violet-coloured velvet,
lined with ermine, and attempted to be fastened on her shoulder by a
bunch of large pearls, dragged itself and almost the rest of her clothes
halfway down her waist. On her head was a beautiful little tiara of
diamonds; a diamond necklace, and a stomacher of diamonds, worth three
score thousand pounds, which she is to wear at the Coronation too. Her
train was borne by the ten bridesmaids, Lady Sarah Lenox,[1] Lady
Caroline Russell, Lady Caroline Montagu, Lady Harriot Bentinck, Lady
Anne Hamilton, Lady Essex Kerr (daughters of Dukes of Richmond, Bedford,
Manchester, Portland, Hamilton, and Roxburgh); and four daughters of the
Earls of Albemarle, Brook, Harcourt, and Ilchester--Lady Elizabeth
Keppel, Louisa Greville, Elizabeth Harcourt, and Susan Fox Strangways:
their heads crowned with diamonds, and in robes of white and silver.
Lady Caroline Russell is extremely handsome; Lady Elizabeth Keppel very
pretty; but with neither features nor air, nothing ever looked so
charming as Lady Sarah Lenox; she has all the glow of beauty peculiar to
her family. As supper was not ready, the Queen sat down, sung, and
played on the harpsichord to the Royal Family, who all supped with her
in private. They talked of the different German dialects; the King asked
if the Hanoverian was not pure--"Oh, no, Sir," said the Queen; "it is
the worst of all."--She will not be unpopular.
[Footnote 1: Lady Sarah Lennox, in an account of a theatrical
performance at Holland House in a previous letter, is described by
Walpole as "more beautiful than you can conceive." The King himself
admired her so greatly that he is believed to have had serious thoughts
of choosing her to be his queen. She afterwards married Major G. Napier,
and became the mother of Sir William and Sir Charles Napier.]
The Duke of Cumberland told the King that himself and Lady Augusta were
sleepy. The Queen was very averse to leave the company, and at last
articled that nobody should accompany her but the Princess of Wales and
her own two German women, and that nobody should be admitted afterwards
but the King--they did not retire till between two and three.
The next morning the King had a levée. He said to Lord Hardwicke, "It is
a very fine day:" that old gossip replied, "Yes, Sir, and it was a very
fine night." Lord Bute had told the King that Lord Orford had betted his
having a child before Sir James Lowther, who had been married the night
before to Lord Bute's eldest daughter; the King told Lord Orford he
should be glad to go his halves. The bet was made with Mr. Rigby.
Somebody asked the latter how he could be so bad a courtier as to bet
against the King? He replied, "Not at all a bad courtier; I betted Lord
Bute's daughter against him."
After the King's Levee there was a Drawing-room; the Queen stood under
the throne: the women were presented to her by the Duchess of Hamilton,
and then the men by the Duke of Manchester; but as she knew nobody, she
was not to speak. At night there was a ball, drawing-rooms yesterday and
to-day, and then a cessation of ceremony till the Coronation, except
next Monday, when she is to receive the address of the Lord Mayor and
Aldermen, sitting on the throne attended by the bridesmaids. A
ridiculous circumstance happened yesterday; Lord Westmoreland, not very
young nor clear-sighted, mistook Lady Sarah Lenox for the Queen, kneeled
to her, and would have kissed her hand if she had not prevented him.
People think that a Chancellor of Oxford was naturally attracted by the
blood of Stuart. It is as comical to see Kitty Dashwood, the famous old
beauty of the Oxfordshire Jacobites, living in the palace as Duenna to
the Queen. She and Mrs. Boughton, Lord Lyttelton's ancient Delia, are
revived again in a young court that never heard of them. There, I think,
you could not have had a more circumstantial account of a royal wedding
from the Heralds' Office. Adieu!
Yours to serve you,