stiff with gold embroidery, yeomen of the guard in plumed helmets. Only,
for another coronation, I would clothe the supporting pillars of the
galleries with red cloth. The grey wooden supports looked cold, and
their angular outlines drew attention to them amongst the rounded forms
of the pillars, whereas the red seats and galleries disappeared
altogether, or only served as admirable setting and background to the
picture. The grand old tombs--Aylmer de Valence, Edmond Crouchback, Anne
of Cleves--stood detached from the red, and in front of the altar the
mosaic pavement of Henry III. was left exposed--not covered, like the
rest of the floor, by red carpeting. Near the altar were two benches on
each side--‘tabourets’--for queens and princesses in front, kings and
princes behind. Farther back stood, on a daïs, the coronation chair,
facing the altar, covered and hidden by red, and with the royal robe of
state hanging over it and trailing down from the daïs on the side
towards us: before it was a fald-stool and kneeling cushion.
“Every moment the vast edifice became more filled with colour, but the
peers and peeresses arrived very gradually. Lady Exeter, beautiful
still, sat long alone in the marchionesses’ seats, Lord and Lady Cross
in the ministerial benches, and two or three duchesses in that appointed
for them. Then the Argylls came in, he gorgeous in the uniform
of--MacCallum More. Behind I recognised the Spencers, Powerscourts,
Stanhopes, Charlie Halifax, and Lord Londonderry with the white ribbon
of the Order of St. Patrick. The Lord Chancellor, preceded by mace and
bag, now came in and took his place in the centre of the front row, with
Lord and Lady Salisbury and the Duchess of Marlborough on his right
hand. A figure which attracted more attention than any other was that of
Maria, Lady Aylesbury, except her three Cambridge cousins and her two
pages, the sole survivor of all those represented in the great picture
of the Queen’s coronation.
“At 11.15 a burst of music announced the first procession, and Princess
Frederica and the Tecks were conducted to the stalls, with two of the
Edinburgh children, and three gorgeous Eastern princes[451] to the
places immediately below us. Then the Queen of Hawaii, in a black dress
covered with green embroidery, and with the famous yellow feathers only
allowed to Sandwich Island royalty, was seated just opposite to us, with
her princess-sister[452] (the heiress of the throne) in black velvet
covered with orders, and with a great white ostrich fan:--not together,
however, as every one was to sit according to rank, and an intermediate
place after queens had to be reserved for the Duchess of
Mecklenbourg-Strelitz.
“A long tension of waiting followed, but at twelve a rising of the
white-robed choristers in their south-western gallery announced the
second procession, and a flood of royalty poured in beneath us. Opposite
sat the kings of Greece, Denmark (his father), the very handsome king of
the Belgians, whose beard is beginning to turn grey, the king of Saxony,
the Crown Princes of Austria, Portugal, Würtemburg, and Sweden, the Duc
d’Aosta, and Prince George of Greece--a charming boy in a naval uniform.
Beneath us were the Crown Princess of Portugal, Doña Eulalia of Spain,
the hereditary Duchess of Mecklenbourg, and Princess Philip of
Saxe-Coburg. One of these royal ladies--Doña Eulalia, I think--had a
white lace mantilla instead of a bonnet, with very pretty effect. But
really one of the finest features of the whole was the coming in of the
Queen of the Belgians--so simple, royal, imperial--saluting everybody in
comprehensive though slight inclination, infinitely graceful and regal
in every attitude.
“At last a blaze of trumpets announced the Queen’s procession. It was
headed by canons, the Bishop of London, the two Archbishops in most
gorgeous copes, and the Dean of Westminster in a heavy old embroidered
cope to his feet, which made him look like a figure risen from one of
the old altar-tombs. Then--alone--serene--pale (not red)--beautifully
dressed in something between a cap and bonnet of white lace and
diamonds, but _most_ becoming to her--perfectly self-possessed, full of
the most gracious sweetness, lovely and lovable--the Queen! All the
princesses in the choir, with the Queen of the Belgians at their head,
curtseyed low as she took her place upon the throne, from which the long
robe of state trailed so that it looked part of her dress.
“When she was seated in lonely splendour, the princes poured in upon her
right, and the princesses on her left, and took their places on gilt
chairs on either side--a little behind. The bevy of granddaughters, in
white and pale blue, was very pretty--so many, all curtseying as they
passed the Queen, and she smiling most sweetly and engagingly upon them
with the most loving and motherly of looks.
“Then came the burst of the ‘Te Deum.’ The silver trumpets at St.
Peter’s seemed as nothing to the trumpet-shout which gave effect to the
exultant sentences, pealing triumphantly through the arches, and
contrasting with the single voices of solitary choristers thrilling
alone at intervals--voices far, far away, like the tenderest echo. The
Queen did not shed a tear, and held a book all the time, but once sat
down as if it was too much for her, and often looked round at the Crown
Princess--who stood nearest, very sweet and sympathetic--with a look of
‘_What_ this is to us!’ Princess Beatrice and the Grand Duchess Sergius
cried the whole time.
“A striking figure throughout the entire service was the Crown Prince of
Germany, especially when kneeling erect like a knight, in jackboots, but
with folded hands and a simplicity of unwavering devotion.
“Very solemnly, audibly everywhere, the Archbishop of Canterbury read
the prayers--the thanksgiving for all the mercies of the reign, the
petition for eternal life. There was another psalm, sung most
gloriously, then an anthem with a burst of trumpets in the ‘To be king
for the Lord thy God.’ Lastly, the benediction, in which the Queen bent
low, lower, lower, as the ‘Amen,’ sung over and over again, died away in
vanishing cadences.
“When it was quite silent, in a great hush, she rose up, and a beautiful
ray of sunshine shot through the stained windows and laid itself at her
feet, and then passed on and gilded the head of the Prince of Wales.
“She beckoned to him afterwards, and he came and kissed her hand, but
she kissed him twice most affectionately. Then came the Crown Prince and
the Grand Duke of Hesse, who kissed her hands, and then the Duke of
Connaught. When the Queen saw him, maternal feelings overcame those of
royalty, and she embraced him fervently, and then, evidently fearing
that the last two princes might be hurt, she called them back, and
kissed them too, and so all the princes, who came in order. She was
especially cordial to Prince Albert Victor, and heartily kissed Lord
Lorne, who had bent down, as if he did not expect it.
“Meantime the Crown Princess stood by the step of the throne on the
other side, and I think the most touching part of the whole was when she
bent low to kiss her mother’s hand and was folded in a close embrace,
and so all the daughters and the grand-daughters--such a galaxy of
graceful girls--bent to kiss the hand, and were kissed in turn.
“Then the Queen went away, bowing all down the choir, and the flood of
her youthful descendants ebbed after her.
“I felt I scarcely cared to see the procession afterwards, but it was
very fine. How a past age is repeating itself! One sees this in
comparing the newspaper accounts of the procession yesterday with the
contemporary tracts about the entry of Queen Elizabeth, telling how ‘in
all her passage she did show her most gracious love towards the people
in general,’ and how the citizens, when they saw her, ‘took such
comfort, that with tears they expressed the same.’ I am one of the 400
asked to meet the 100 royalties at the Foreign Office, but cannot manage
arranging levée dress properly in time.”
* * * * *
“_June 23, 1887._--This is a postscript to my last.
“Nothing could exceed the orderliness, good-nature, and merriment of the
immense crowd at the illuminations on the evening of the Jubilee day. I
took Letitia Hibbert and her friend Miss Robertson to see the best from
Hyde Park, and then along the Green Park, where movement was quite easy,
and the effect of the houses bathed in a halo of coloured light very
beautiful through the dark massy foliage.
“Yesterday I went at 3 P.M. to Hyde Park. A dense mass of people walled
in the vast enclosed space, but all in the utmost good-humour, though
many came forward with--‘Oh, do give me your ticket: oh, do now, just
for once.’ Inside the outer barrier was a second, within which people
walked, and whence they saw. I was indignant at first at not being
admitted farther, but when I saw the Archbishop of Canterbury refused,
was quite contented to share the fate of the first subject in the realm.
However, eventually we were both passed into the immense space where the
children were playing, not apparently the least over-done by the hot
sun, or tired from having been on the move since 10 A.M., and having
been provided, on arriving, with nothing but a bag containing a
meat-pie, a bun (they say the buns would have reached from London to
Brentford in a direct line), and an orange, with instructions to put the
bag in their pockets when done with! Each of the 30,000 children also
had a ‘Jubilee mug’ of Doulton ware. Every now and then volleys of tiny
coloured balloons were sent up, like flights of bright birds floating
away into the soft blue, and, as the royalties arrived, a great yellow
balloon, with several people in its car, bore a huge ‘Victoria’
skywards.
“I found my cousin Lady Normanton lost, and stayed with her and a very
pleasant ex-governess of Princess May, most indignant at her adored
pupil having received no Order out of the numbers distributed. Between
half-past four and five life-guards heralded a long procession of
carriages, with the Indian princes, the foreign queens and kings, and
our own royal family in force. A number of Eastern chieftains were
riding six abreast, and very like Bluebeard one or two of them looked.
Finally came the Queen, smiling, good and gracious beyond words, and
with a wonderful reception everywhere. ‘I have made Socialist speeches
for years,’ said one man, ‘and the last two days have shown me how
useless they have been, and always must be in this country.’
“As the Queen passed up the green drive by which we were standing, all
the 30,000 children sang ‘God save the Queen,’ and a thanksgiving hymn,
which I think must have been, not for their tea (for they never had
any), but for hers, which I hope she enjoyed out of the great fourgons
we saw arriving, and must much have needed. All the royal ladies’-maids
and other servants also passed by in carriages on their way to the
station, by the Queen’s wish, that they should share in the sight.
“Having escorted Lady Normanton to the safe solitudes of Wilton Place, I
rushed off to Windsor, arriving at nine. Certainly the grandeur of the
London illuminations paled before the intense picturesqueness of those
in the old royal city. I had no time to go to Eton, where the Queen had
entered--like Queen Elizabeth--under an arch on the battlements of which
Eton boys were lustily trumpeting. But the bridge, brilliant in electric
light, also ended in an arch, kept dark itself, beyond which every house
in the steep, sharply-winding street was seen adorned with its own
varied devices of coloured light, from basement to attics, whilst the
walls were hung with scarlet draperies, and brilliant banners of scarlet
and gold waved across the roadway.
“I stayed on the bridge to see the thousand Eton boys cross, marching in
detachments, with white and blue uniforms alternately, carrying their
(then unlighted) torches, and then went after them to the castle, where
I was one of the few admitted, and pushed on at once to the inner court
under the Queen’s apartments.
“Most unspeakably weird, picturesque, inspiring, beautiful, and
glorious was the sight, when, with a burst of drums and trumpets, the
wonderful procession emerged under the old gate of Edward III., headed
by a detachment of the Blues, then the boys, six abreast, carrying
lighted torches, till hundreds upon hundreds had filed in, singing
splendidly ‘God save the Queen.’ All the bigger boys formed into figures
of blazing light in the great court, weaving designs of light in their
march--‘Welcome,’ ‘Victoria,’ &c., in radiant blaze of moving living
illumination; whilst the little boys, each carrying a coloured Chinese
lantern on a wand, ascended in winding chains of light the staircases on
the steep hill of the Round Tower opposite the Queen’s window, till the
slope was covered with brilliancy and colour. The little boys sang very
sweetly in the still night their song of welcome, and then all the mass
of the boys below, raising their flaming torches high into the air,
shouted with their whole hearts and lungs, ‘Rule Britannia!’
“It was an unspeakably transporting scene, and I am sure that the
beloved figure in the white cap seated in the wide-open central window
felt it so, and was most deeply moved by the sight and sound of so much
loyal and youthful chivalry.
“Then, in a great hush, she almost astonished them by leaving her place
and suddenly reappearing in the open air in the courtyard amongst them,
and making them a queenly and tender little speech in her clear
beautiful voice--‘I do thank you so very very much,’ &c.
“You may imagine the hurrahs which followed, the frantic emotion and
applause whilst she called up and spoke to Lord Ampthill and one or two
other boys whose parents had been especial friends.
“And then, in figures of light from their torches, as she reappeared at
the window, the vast assembly formed the word ‘Good-night.’ Nothing
could possibly have been more picturesquely pretty.
“Immediately afterwards the whole of the great central tower was flooded
with red light, which seemed to turn it into blood, and I went with J.
Dundas to the North Terrace, whence we looked down upon the
fireworks--fire-fountains, comets, cascades of golden, sapphire, and
amethyst rain.
“It was 2 A.M. when I got back to London, but well worth the fatigue.”
* * * * *
LONDON JOURNAL.
“_June 23, 1887._--Sat at breakfast by Sir George Dasent. ‘Did you ever
know,’ he said, ‘the late old Bengal tiger at Asbburnham?[453] He asked
me down there, and when I went he said, “You are here, sir, under false
pretences. I have discovered that you are a member, sir, of that most
disreputable society called the ‘Historic MSS. Commission:’ they are a
society of ruffians, sir.”--“Surely, Lord Ashburnham, a great many
eminent persons are members of that society,--Lord Salisbury, for
instance, surely he is not a ruffian.”--“Yes, sir, he _is_ a ruffian
when he is acting for that society: and you, sir, you are a ruffian
too--you tamper with title-deeds, sir,” and it was quite in vain to
assure him that our society had no interest whatever in title-deeds of
the last hundred years.
“‘I told Lady Ashburnham what he said, and she answered, “You must not
mind: he is the most kind-hearted of men, but he has--his savage
moments!”
“‘Afterwards he was very kind to me, and showed me all his treasures,
especially his glorious Anglo-Saxon MSS.
“‘When I was at Hornby, I went up with the present Duchess of Leeds into
a tower into which a former Duchess had carried a quantity of books,
because, she said, “there were enough downstairs.” They had been taken
up at haphazard, and some of them were of extraordinary value: there
were wonderful editions of Aretino there, excessively improper, but
nobody could read them. The tower had been open to the bats and owls,
and when we took out the books, many of them were matted together in one
solid mass: they bore the name of Hewit Osborne, the apprentice who
jumped from London Bridge to save the life of his master’s daughter,
and, afterwards marrying her, founded the family; he was a great Italian
scholar.’”
* * * * *
“_July 1._--Sir G. Dasent says that the late Queen of Sweden said to him
that she could not imagine how it was that her eldest son had done all
he could to alienate the affections of his people, and was adored, and
the second all he could to conciliate them, and was detested. The eldest
(the late King) was a Hercules. ‘His Majesty will rise at 3 A.M.
to-morrow and will ride thirty miles (to Gripsholm), and wishes you to
accompany him,’ was a frequent announcement to guests and courtiers; and
when they reached Gripsholm, all was prepared for a great elk-hunt, and
when _that_ was finished, and they were gasping for rest, came the
announcement, ‘His Majesty will rise at 2 A.M. to-morrow, and will ride
forty miles,’ &c.
“Luncheon with Lady Stradbroke, who told me that as she was walking up
Grosvenor Crescent during the illuminations, a group of country people
were inspecting the devices. ‘Ah!’ she heard one of them explain, ‘V.
R.--that’s for _very respectable_.’”
* * * * *
“_July 3._--Yesterday was very hot--a hotter scirocco, said Roman Mr.
Story, than any he had felt in Italy. There was a great volunteer
review, which brought the usual picturesque procession of the Queen,
with her glittering life-guards, through the Park.
“On Friday I went with Florentia Hughes to a great garden-party of the
Baroness Coutts at Holly Lodge--a most lovely place, with steep hilly
gardens and splendid herbaceous flowers.”
* * * * *
“_July 6._--Yesterday I went with the Indian princes by special train to
Woburn. Everything was arranged _en grand seigneur_--nothing to be paid
anywhere--a train with saloon carriages, in which we floated into
Bedfordshire without stopping, and thirty-two carriages, beautifully
equipped, sent to meet us at the station. In one of these I drove
through the lanes lined with dog-roses with Lord Normanby and Miss
Grosvenor. ‘I am always mistaken for Princess Mary, so must keep up her
character,’ said the latter, and bowed incessantly, right and left, to
the village crowds, who were quite delighted with her. We had a long
wait before luncheon, Europe and Asia separated by a great gulf which no
one seemed able to bridge over. Lady Tavistock did her best, but the
party hung fire, and, though a magnificent banquet, with all the gold
plate displayed, took part of the time, there was not much to animate
us, and we lounged on the lawn, tried to be agreeable and were not, and
admired the beautiful Indians, with their gorgeous dresses and languid
eyes, till another chain of carriages took us back through the Ampthill
woods to another station.”
* * * * *
“_July 7._--Miss Holford was married this afternoon to Mr. Benson at St.
George’s before an immense crowd. There was a great breakfast
afterwards--though so late--at Dorchester House, where all London
flocked through the rooms to admire the presents, which were
indescribably splendid. The scene on the beautiful white marble
staircase was charming, especially when the bride went away, her father
and mother leading her down on either side, and all the tiny bridesmaids
and pages--nieces and nephews between six and seven--gambolling in
front, with huge baskets of dark red roses. Above, under the circular
arches, between the pillars of coloured marbles, and against a golden
wall background, the overhanging galleries were filled with all the most
beautiful women in London leaning over the balustrades.
“Dined at the Speaker’s--lovely lights sparkling along the shore, and
the splash of the river and distant hum only making one feel more the
silence of night. We sat out upon the haunted terrace afterwards--such
stars, and a moon rising behind the towers of Lambeth.”
* * * * *
_To_ LOUISA, MARCHIONESS OF WATERFORD.
“_June 30._--On Saturday I went to Osterley, meeting beautiful Lady
Katherine Vane[454] with her brother and sister at the Victoria Station,
and going down with them. Troops of people emerged from the train close
to the gate in the park wall, and we all flocked together along the
gravel walks through the hot meadows to the house, where the shade was
very refreshing. Lady Jersey was receiving under the portico, and groups
of Indian princes with their interpreters were busy over strawberries
and cream in the corners of the great stone hall. I went, with several
people who had an equally tender remembrance of the kind old Duchess of
Cleveland, who lived there so long, to visit the little library where
she always sat in winter--quite deserted now, and all the books
sold--and then joined the many groups of people on the lawns and the
green glade which ends in a porticoed summer-house like a
Claude-Lorraine picture. Others went in a boat upon the lake. The
Jerseys pressed me to stay to dinner with Lord and Lady Muncaster; so
Lady M. and I both got a volume of a very dull novel, over which we had
a pleasant rest when all the crowd were gone. Never were such airy
people as the Jerseys, a line of six windows open on one side and two
doors on the other all dinner-time. Lady Hilda Brodrick and one of Lady
Jersey’s brothers were my neighbours, and very pleasant.
“On Sunday I had luncheon at Lord Breadalbane’s, to have a quiet sight
of my Prince. It is a wonderful house--deeply coved ceilings with
frescoes like those in an old Venetian palace, and wide spaces round the
outside planted with groves of plane-trees. The Breadalbanes have
thought it worth while to make a new dining-room (though sacrificing two
old ceilings), as they have taken all the rest of the lease, after which
the house reverts (it is Harcourt House) to the Harcourts of Nuneham.
The Duchess of Roxburgh, an Indian prince, and several other ladies
dropped in, so there were three tables for luncheon. In the middle, Lady
Breadalbane[455] got up and went round to each table, almost to each
guest, to see that they had all they could possibly want, and to say the
pleasantest things to them in the prettiest way: she certainly is a
queen of hostesses. Afterwards my Prince came to me, and we walked up
and down upon the terrace. He was most affectionate, as he always is
when we meet, and talked of all people and things as if we had never
parted, but reproached me much with never coming to him in Norway,
urging very much that I should write at any time, or even telegraph that
I was coming for any length of stay. Some day, when I am free from my
French work, I will go. He evidently wished that I should say something
to Lady Breadalbane of the great difference her excessive kindness had
made during all this visit to England, so I was very glad to do so. ‘We
have done our best,’ she said, ‘and I am very glad it has gone off so
well; but it has not been my doing, but all owing to those who have
helped me.’ The Indian had brought a suit of flannels with him in a
carpet-bag, and changed into them, and when my Prince went to get ready
to play at tennis with him, I came away.
“On Monday (27th) we had our large drawing-party down the river. Meeting
at Westminster Bridge, we all took tickets to ‘Cherry-Tree Yard’ at
Rotherhithe. Just as we were going to embark, the ticket-man very
good-naturedly emerged, and coming to me said, ‘I do not know if you are
aware, sir, that you are taking all these ladies into a most rough and
dangerous part of London.’ I said we were only going to draw at the
wharf, when he was satisfied. But when we arrived, they would not let us
stay on the wharf. A man said, ‘I know of a most respectable
public-house where you can go: all the artists draw from thence.’ And
there we all sat, in great shade and comfort, under a wide verandah,
directly overhanging the river and overlooking the Pool, with all the
fine shipping which comes up to that picturesque reach of the
Thames--‘Dutch Crawls’ inclusive.
“I dined with the Eustace Cecils, meeting, amongst others, Professor and
Mrs. Flower, of whom the former was holding Arthur Stanley’s hand when
he died.