o rehearse them. Lord John Thynne, who officiated for the Dean
of Westminster, told me that nobody knew what was to be done
except the Archbishop and himself (who had rehearsed), Lord
Willoughby (who is experienced in these matters), and the Duke of
Wellington, and consequently there was a continual difficulty and
embarrassment, and the Queen never knew what she was to do next.
They made her leave her chair and enter into St. Edward's Chapel
before the prayers were concluded, much to the discomfiture of
the Archbishop. She said to John Thynne, 'Pray tell me what I am
to do, for they don't know;' and at the end, when the orb was put
into her hand, she said to him, 'What am I to do with it?' 'Your
Majesty is to carry it, if you please, in your hand.' 'Am I?' she
said; 'it is very heavy.' The ruby ring was made for her little
finger instead of the fourth, on which the rubric prescribes that
it should be put. When the Archbishop was to put it on, she
extended the former, but he said it must be on the latter. She
said it was too small, and she could not get it on. He said it
was right to put it there, and, as he insisted, she yielded, but
had first to take off her other rings, and then this was forced
on, but it hurt her very much, and as soon as the ceremony was
over she was obliged to bathe her finger in iced water in order
to get it off. The noise and confusion were very great when the
medals were thrown about by Lord Surrey, everybody scrambling
with all their might and main to get them, and none more
vigorously than the Maids of Honour. There was a great
demonstration of applause when the Duke of Wellington did homage.
Lord Rolle, who is between eighty and ninety, fell down as he was
getting up the steps of the throne. Her first impulse was to
rise, and when afterwards he came again to do homage she said,
'May I not get up and meet him?' and then rose from the throne
and advanced down one or two of the steps to prevent his coming
up, an act of graciousness and kindness which made a great
sensation.[13] It is, in fact, the remarkable union of _naivete_,
kindness, nature, good nature, with propriety and dignity, which
makes her so admirable and so endearing to those about her, as
she certainly is. I have been repeatedly told that they are all
warmly attached to her, but that all feel the impossibility of
for a moment losing sight of the respect which they owe her. She
never ceases to be a Queen, but is always the most ch