After the ceremony their Majesties occupied two state chairs on the same side of the altar, under a canopy. The mother of the monarch occupied a similar chair of state on the opposite side; the other members of the royal family were seated on stools, while benches were given to the foreign ministers to rest upon. At half-past ten the proceedings came to a close, and the return of the marriage procession from the chapel was announced by thundering salutes from the artillery of the park and the Tower. ‘Can it be possible,’ said the humble bride, ‘that I am worthy of such honours?’ Walpole says of the royal bride that she did nothing but with good humour and cheerfulness. ‘She talks a good deal,’ says the same writer, ‘is easy, civil, and not disconcerted.’ While the august company waited for supper, she sat down, sung, and played; conversed with the King, Duke of Cumberland, and Duke of York, in German and French. She was reported to have been as conversant with the last as any native, but Walpole only says of it that ‘her French is tolerable.’ The supper was in fact a banquet of great splendour and corresponding weariness. ‘They did not get to bed till two;’ by which time the bride, who had made a weary journey through the heat and dust, and had been awake since the dawn, must have been sadly jaded. ‘Nothing but a German constitution,’ said Mrs. Scott, ‘could have undergone it.’ The same lady says:--‘She did not arrive in London till three o’clock, and besides the fatigue of the journey, with the consequences of the flutter she could not avoid being in, she was to dress for her wedding, be married, have a drawing-room, and undergo the ceremony of receiving company after she and the King were in bed, and _all_ the night after her journey and so long a voyage.’ There are no old fashioned nuptial ceremonies to record and to smile at. Walpole alludes to a civil war and campaign on the question of the bedchamber. ‘Everybody is excluded but the minister; even the lords of the bedchamber, cabinet councillors, and foreign ministers; but it has given such offence that I don’t know whether Lord Huntingdon must not be the scapegoat.’ On the 9th of September the Queen held her first drawing-room. ‘Everybody was presented to her, but she spoke to nobody, as she could not know a soul. The crowd was much less than at a birthday; the magnificence very little more. The King looked very handsome, and talked to her with great good humour. It does not promise as if these two would be the two most unhappy persons in England from this event.’