The interior of the stately palace presented a scene of no ordinary splendour on that evening. Hundreds of uniforms of cavalry and infantry officers—British, Spanish, Portuguese, and German, were glittering every where. The ladies were attired in all the colours of the rainbow, and their light floating dresses were seen mingling among smart light dragoons, Scottish Highlanders, green-clad caçadores, and clumsy German riflemen, and, I must remark, that the latter were perhaps the most vulgar and ungainly fellows that ever appeared in a ballroom. There were numbers of cavaliers attired in the Spanish doublet, a close-fitting vest with sleeves. A smart mantle dangled from their left shoulder, and nearly all wore knee-breeches and broad white collars around their necks—a costume at once smart and picturesque. Many wore the garbs and badges of their national military orders: there were knights of Calatrava and Alcantara, wearing,—the former red crosses, the latter green, upon black velvet tunics; and knights of "the Band," wearing the scarlet scarf of their ancient order. But the most picturesque costumes were those of four knights of the religious order of Redemption, who appeared clad completely in white, with a large black cross on the breast of the silk tunic, which reached to the knees. A white velvet mantle flowed behind, and each wore three white feathers in a small round cap of a flat shape, like the bonnet of a Lowlander. These singular garbs added greatly to the gaiety of the scene; but if the interior of the palace presented a blaze of splendour, the illuminated gardens were a realization of fairy land. Two channels having been given to the Tagus, the grounds of the palace were enclosed as an island, being completely surrounded by the stream, amid which many a stately swan was swimming about, or slowly sailing as they spread their snowy plumage to the breeze. The trees were thickly planted on each side of the walks, and their boughs, which were beginning to wear the brown tints of autumn, embraced each other, and being carefully pruned below, formed long and beautiful sylvan arcades, such as are not to be found in any other garden in Europe. A thousand variegated lamps, clustering like enchanted fruit, were hung upon their boughs, or stretched from tree to tree in festoons, illuminating with a blaze of light the deepest recesses, where even the meridian sun could not penetrate.