On Good Friday morning, the 3rd of April, the ‘Jupiter’ passed Harwich, and in the evening anchored at the Nore. On the following day the bride ascended the Thames to Gravesend, whence, in a barge, on Easter Sunday, and amidst thousands of welcoming spectators, she proceeded to Greenwich, where she arrived at twelve, and found--not a soul from St. James’s to receive her. She waited a full hour before the royal carriages arrived, and the delay was attributed to the contrivance of the Prince’s favourite. In the meantime the officers at the Hospital did their honest best to welcome the poor stranger. At length the carriages arrived, but with them no eager bridegroom. To represent him came his mistress, with a bevy of lords and ladies. Lady Jersey no sooner beheld the embarrassed Princess than she began to ridicule her dress; and having done that till she was sharply reproved for her effrontery by Lord Malmesbury, she made a sort of claim to be placed by the side of the Princess in the carriage, on the ground that riding backwards always made her sick. But Lord Malmesbury would listen to no such claim, told her that she was unfit to be a lady of the bedchamber if she were unable to ride with her back to the horses, and although the favourite would have been glad now to ride even in that fashion in the same carriage with the bride, the envoy would not permit it. He placed there two ladies who were not addicted to qualms in such a situation; and with the Princess occupying a seat alone, and sitting forward, so as to be more easily seen, the _cortège_ set out for the metropolis. The bride was but coldly received by the few spectators on the road, and when she alighted at the Duke of Cumberland’s apartments, in Cleveland Row, St. James’s, at half-past two, she must have half wished herself back again in Brunswick. On due notice of the arrival being made to the royal family the Prince of Wales went immediately to visit his cousin and bride. What occurred at the interview, of which Lord Malmesbury was the sole witness, he has the best right to tell. ‘I, according to the established etiquette, introduced (no one else being in the room) the Princess Caroline to him. She very properly, in consequence of my saying to her it was the right mode of proceeding, attempted to kneel to him. He raised her (gracefully enough) and embraced her, said barely one word, turned round, retired to a distant part of the apartment, and, calling me to him, said: “Harris, I am not well; pray get me a glass of brandy.” I said: “Sir, had you not better have a glass of water?” Upon which he, much out of humour, said with an oath: “_No_; I will go directly to the Queen.” And away he went. The Princess, left during this short moment alone, was in a state of astonishment, and on my joining her said: “Mon Dieu, est-ce que le Prince est toujours comme cela? Je le trouve très gros et nullement aussi beau que son portrait.”’