Queen Victoria and Princess Beatrice

APRIL 11, 1863.]

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

229

QUEEN VICTORIA AND THE PRINCESS BEATRICE.

THE WEDDING OF THE PRINCE
OF WALES.

WE devote a very large proportion of our space this week to illustrations of the Marriage of the Prince of Wales, which took place on 10th ult., and was the great event of the day in Europe. It is so short a time since the Prince was among us here that we are sure our fair readers will be glad to see him again—in "counterfeit presentment"—with his fair young bride. On page 236 we illustrate the PRINCESS ALEXANDRA ALIGHTING FROM THE RAILWAY CAR, looking very pretty and girlish; on page 228 we give fine portraits of THE HAPPY COUPLE; on this page a portrait of QUEEN VICTORIA, with the PRINCESS BEATRICE in her arms and on pages 232 and 233 a fine illustration of THE MARRIAGE in St. George's Chapel at Windsor. The following narrative we condense from the graphic account of the London Times:

ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL.

Simple, lofty, and cold, it is difficult to light up the nave of St. George's. But the difficulty was overcome yesterday by hues and colors so rich and bright that from the floor half-way up the fluted pillars the effect was like that produced by a piece of gorgeous tapestry, or by a grand Oriental carpeting hung on the walls. The nave served

as the channel and embankment of the stream which swept from the outer hall to the Chapel laden with all the pageantry of the great spectacle, and, returning thence, rolled back its tide once more, bearing the Prince and his bride on the swelling crest of all its pomp.

In the archway leading into the nave a heavy drapery of purple silk, patterned with gold, screened the interior of the temporary hall where the guests of the Queen were received, and Her Majesty's great officers and royal household assembled to form in order of procession. Through rifts and openings now and then in the veil could be seen clouds of drapery and waving plumes, and glimpses could be caught of the apartments where the wedding party rested for a while before the principal procession was formed. On the pavement a red and black carpet, with a broad cream-colored border, embroidered with the Prince's cipher and crest in alternate compartments on one side, and with the Princess's on the other, was laid from the entrance to the steps leading into the Chapel. The seven lofty columns which divide the aisles from the body broke the monotonous lines of seats covered with scarlet and yellow-fringed cloth, which rose tier above tier from the narrowed fronts between the columns high up the walls beyond. 

HERALDS, USHERS, AND CHORISTERS.

At 10 1/2 o'clock the Dean of Christ Church is the first to enter the choir, but apparently only to look about him, for he does not then venture on a seat, all of which still remain only occupied by their glistening copies of the programme, bound in white silk and stamped with gold. A gorgeous group of heralds are the next comers, Lancaster and Windsor, Norroy and Glarencieux, walking stiffly in their magnificent but most uncomfortable tabards, which, as they can only be worn when the Sovereign is present at State ceremonies, must have been laid by till now for a

very long time. They have a curious aspect as they stalk about in these ungainly habits, looking for all the world as if some of the banners and coats of arms of the old knights around had been endowed with life, and were shuffling about the floor. To them soon come a number of Gentlemen Ushers, stiff with bullion and edged about with gold, who assemble round Mr. Spencer Ponsonby, receive their last instructions, and study a carte du patio of the choir, showing them their own places and, what is still more important, every body else's. Now and then a Guardsman in full uniform, a Silver Stick, or Gentleman-at-Arms, enters for a moment to look about him, but no one stays, though it is 10 1/2, and the knave, as can be heard from the hum of conversation, must be nearly full or filling fast. The Queen's private band begin to muster in their gallery, from which immediately issue sounds of instruments being tuned and tuned, and otherwise exasperated into a succession of the most doleful discords, varied occasionally by a tap on the drum, as if the performances were about to commence forthwith.

Madame Goldschmidt, formerly Jenny Lind, looks into the choir for a single minute, and then ascends to her place among the other ladies who are to sing the hymn of praise on this great day.

ARRIVAL OF THE NOBILITY.

At last the Marchioness of Ailesbury enters, and seats herself in a stall of a Knight of the Garter, next to that over which her husband's banner floats. She is in court costume, but wearing no train, and with a magnificent circlet of diamonds round her head. As if they had been waiting for this example to be set, and for some one to break the stately solitude of the shrine, many ladies follow the Marchioness quickly.

All are in full court dress, with the exception that they

wear no trains, and all, without exception, are dressed in velvet or satin, either of blue, mauve, or violet color, the latter being the prevailing tone. All, too, wear feathers and diamonds in their hair, and some show tiaras of brilliants almost large enough to form head-dresses, so completely do the glittering jewels cover the head like a regal crown.

Almost the first male visitor to put in an appearance is Sir George Grey, who comes accompanied by Lady Grey. They take their places on the left, and are quickly followed by Lord and Lady Stanley, and a host of other noble and official personages.

All the gentlemen are in full official uniform, and wear the chief insignia of whatever orders they have the honor to possess, collars and badges in the fullest state. No bridal favors are worn on such an occasion of state dress; but, as a kind of amende for this necessary omission, where the collars of the orders of knighthood are displayed they are in every case looped at the shoulders with bows of white satin ribbon, which answers the purpose equally well. Now that the choir is almost full, the predominance of mauve and violet colors is more marked than ever—in fact, few other tints are shown, except when ladies who fear the cold keep their white burnouses, which all without exception have, still wrapped about their shoulders. The Lod Mayor and Lady Mayoress are among the late arrivals. His lordship wears his robes of state, which, without being over gaudy, make a rich addition even to the mass of uniforms and gorgeous dresses around.

THE KNIGHTS OF THE GARTER.

It is a quarter to twelve, and there is a short hush of expectation—one of those periods of unaccountable silence which always fall at intervals even upon the most crowded (Next Page)