IN WESTMINSTEE ABBEY 451 



their heads (as the procession left the Abbey), and the ' Cap 

 of Maintenance ' was little better. The crowns of King and 

 Queen were particularly elegant, and fitted well, but from 

 want of light their ' unspeakable ' gems did not sparkle ; 

 which was a disappointment to me, who love jewels (but not 

 for myself) and fancy I am a connoisseur, mineralogically 

 at least. (P.) The music was of the best, and most admir- 

 ably selected (L.) but did not gratify me though for ' time- 

 keeping ' it was marvellous. The voices drowned the organ, 

 and to my ears were harsh but the Abbey is notoriously a 

 bad building for music. (P.) We could not hear the words 

 of the ceremony, but could time them with our books, so 

 that nothing was really lost. (L.) The voices of the Heralds' 

 silver trumpets were lovely, at least I thought so. Curiously 

 enough I had from childhood wished to hear them, no doubt 

 from some dim recollection of the Coronation of William 

 IV so I was prepared to greet them and be gratified. 

 (P.) Lastly as to finding your carriage, every one of them 

 was numbered and the drivers came up one after another in 

 rotation calling out each his number ; if you were not ready 

 he passed on and came round again in his turn to pick 

 you up. 



The solemnity of the whole ceremony was most impressive, 

 and I am glad I went, though I was bothered by my gorgeous, 

 voluminous sky-blue satin mantle of a G.C.S.I. with a gold 

 star on it as big as a soup plate, and a heavy gold collar on 

 my shoulders. 



Part of December, and nearly all January 1903, were spent 

 at Bexhill. In the spring he was crippled by a return of his 

 old enemy eczema, and in the middle of May went again to 

 Harrogate. By the end of June, ' though the demon was not 

 yet exorcised completely,' he was able to walk about, and 

 spent his birthday in taking his youngest son and a grand- 

 daughter from Cirencester over York Minster, where * a most 

 civil official showed us many things not usually seen,' from the 

 Archbishop's crozier, a magnificent affair 6 feet high, to a 

 sketch of poor Martin, who conflagrated the Minster in 1829. 



By the autumn some trouble was still to be felt in ankles 

 and instep, which hindered his walking or standing about over 

 his botanical specimens. 



