OUR LONDON LETTER.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue XII, 22 September 1900, Page 555

OUR LONDON LETTER.

LONDON, August 3. Dear Bee. Once more I find myself on the verge of the silly season, with little to write to you about, except the weather and weddings. A SULTRY SUMMER. We have just emerged from nearly three weeks of sultry, tropical weather, in which each successive day was i ke its predecessor, but more so. For eighteen days the afternoons averaged 84 degrees, and the nights nearly 60 degrees. On four days the mercury ran up to 91 or 92. while eleven nights, eight of them in succession, did not sink below 60. The night of the 22nd23rd kept many people awake, but limp, for the minimum registered was 67, all but the record, a night in August, 1893, not going lower than 72 degrees.

I should like those of you who are told the old, old story that used to be told to me in the colonies, “They never have any summer or sunshine in London," to have sweltered with me through those eighteen days with their ten hours each of brilliant—grilliaut would be a more appropriate term—sunshine. To those of you who live in Australia, the temperatures may not seem anything extraordinary, but you must remember that the muggy, stuffy atmosphere of Ixmdon on a hot day is pronounced by all visitors from the tropical zones far more exhausting than anything experienced in India or Australia.

Summer was so long in coming in that it looked as if we should never get a chance of wearing our smartest frocks, but when it suddenly “scorched" in, there was a regular transformation sceue. White and figured muslin,a navy silk or cottou foulards, muslin over coloured “slips,” and diaphanous material became ail the rage. Our skirts were as thin and light as we could procure, and as for our blouses, they wore really high evening bodices of muslins, chiffons, and gauzes, with low linings, leaving the neck and arms transparent. Those women blessed with gracefully rounded arms and swan-like necks, who in addition understood the art of keeping cool, showed to the best advantage in the diaphanous and dainty fabrics, which are (thank goodness) both comfortable and becoming. With the men. flannel suits became quite the tiling, the hatters were rushed for straw hats, one firm alone disposing of over 150,000. In a good many instances the coachmen and footmen on smart carriages appeared in livery crowned by common or garden straw hats, how great a sacrifice to Sol only those who know the rigour of the Mede and Persian laws of smart society can appreciate. Fans became quite de rigueur, not for us merely, but for the men as well, and it was quite a common sight to see not only portly old gentlemen, but athletic youths, fanning themselves with all the airs and graces of a practised coquette. The itinerant vendors laid in • largo supply of cheap pocket Japanese fans mid Chinese pulms, which, iu r '■ " the Yellow peril, were soon

But even when the heat was at its worse, some of the sticklers for form stuck to their frock eoats and top hats, and it is said that the bank clerks, who spend their time in walking from one bank to another with portfolios full of cheques and bills, are prohibited from wearing any substitute for their toppers.

Men are kittle cattle, and it is hard for one coming from another part of the world to fathom their habits or to arrive by the aid of pure reason at the proper wear for different functions. I met the other day at dinner an American attache, who was humorously explaining how difficult it was for him with the best intentions in the world to do the right thing. “I went." he said, with his strong accent, "to a garden party the other day, ami I thought 1 would be right there with a frock coat and top hat. But I wasn’t. Every single man won' flannels and a straw hat. The next day I went to Lords to the Eton and Harrow match. The heat was tropical, and I thought, ‘1 can’t make a mistake this time.’ 1 went in flannels and a straw hat. Every single man had a frock coat and a top hat. and they didn’t seem to mind the slightest little bit!” His story was fully corroborated a few days later by a lady correspondent to one of the papers, who thought it such a singular fact to be worth noting that she wrote “At the Eton and Harrow match a very smart society man appeared in a straw hat. He looked cool but conspicuous.’’ HATS AND BONNETS FOR HORSES. But this is by the way. When this anecdote intervened, I was about to tell you of the latest fashions for horses, which the heat has introduced. The poor animals have suffered more severely than we humans. The 'buses in many cases ran only a third of their usual journey, and at every main stopping place there were men with buckets of oatmeal and water. Even then the poor horses were so exhausted that many of them fell after a brief exposure to the sun. and a large proportion died. To shelter their heads from the tierce rays of the sun. humane drivers began by placing cabbage leaves between the ears, or pieces of cardboard with holes for the ears. Soon it became quite fashionable for horses to have straw hats and bonnets, some old-fashioned ami old-maidish, it is true, but others quite piqnante in design. The drapery establishments must have had quite a stock taken off their hands. There were broad sunbonnets. dainty directoire shapes, and wonderful pyramidal designs, all with holes cut for their ears. But don’t imagine that the horses’ headgear was plain, undecorated straw. Far from it. One animal had a bunch of red poppies on its burnt straw, another a large bow of chiffon, from a third’s lofty structure dangled tri-colotired ribbons. Other coiffures had three superposed rows of tiny velvet ribbon, a brewery adorned the bonnets of its animals with wreaths of hop leaves, and a baker’s horses’ hats were trimmed with wheat-ears. The poor animals, crawling along, drooped their heads as if fully conscious of the grotesque appearance thev presented. The havoc that spell of hot weather wrought with the horses here, which were being well treated, well fed. refreshed with drinks, and s-ared in every way, enabled us to realise the tremendous wear and tear of horseflesh that went on in the hot weather in South Africa, when water was scarce, and every pound had to be taken out of the horses.

We wound up our eighteen days with a. terrific thunderstorm and continuous flashes of lightning all the afternoon and evening. The casualties reported next day from lightning were even more numerous than those in the daily list from the war. London is very quiet just now. and the season concluded last week with a number of smart society weddings. Those which caused the greatest sensation were Miss Evelyn Millard's and the much-discussed union of Lady Randolph Churchill to young Captain Cornwallis West. MISS EVELYN MILLARD’S WEDDING. In the former case, in the words of the song, “St. George's Church, Hanover Square, was crowded; you'd have thought the place would burst,’’ for it. was quite certain that an actress, and so graceful and refined a one as “Madame Butterfly,’’ would contrive a charming and pretty scene for the ceremony in which she was to play the leading part. And her wedding to

Mr Robert Coulter proved one of the most picturesque that has ever taken place in laindon. From the entranee to the altar the church was decorated with lofty arches, one quite 10 feet high, of red rambler roses and ribbon palms, banked up at the base with white lilies, marguerities, hydrangeas and roses. The final arch at the altar rail, under which the last part of the service took place, was all of white flowers. The pews were decorated with red and white roses, the windowembrasures were filled with flowers, and the pillars were entwined with garlands.

The three hundred, guests included all the leaders of the theatrical world, such literary celebrities as Mrs t'raigie and Mr Anthony Hope, and such leaders of fashion as Lady Jeune, General Sir Evelyn and the Misses Wood, the Speaker and Miss Gully. While they were waiting for the arrival of the bride, quite a concert took place. The Misses Chaplin and the organist played Mackenzie’s “Benedictus,” for violin and organ, Gounod’s “Ave Maria,” for violin, eello and organ, and an Andante of Goltermann as a eello solo. The bridal music from “Lohengrin” Hollowed, and the tenor solo, “Be Thou Faithful Unto Death,” of Mendelssohn was succeeded by Raff’s “Cavatina,” for the. violin. While the register was being signed Miss Alice Gomez sang a solo specially composed for the occasion, nud the bridesmaids distributed favours of real orange blossom. The bride looked very charming in her Empire gown of ivory satin, with yoke and sleeves of old duchess lace. A lovely trail of silver embroidered orchids and leaves wound gracefully round the gown, the flowers standing out in bold relief upon the satin, and following graceful curves round the figure from the shoulders to the feet. A long Court train was suspended from both shoulders —a mass of glittering silver sequins, supported underneath with innumerable ruches .of soft white chiffon, and carried by two pretty little train bearers. Miss Barbara Bancroft and Miss Muriel Hanuen. The bride’s veil was of old lace, and fastened with a diamond star. Her hair was charmingly dressed with a little bandeau of silver across the front, and clusters of orange blossom on each side. The bridesmaids, Miss Shelley Gully, daughter of the Speaker, Miss E. Wciod, daughter of Sir Evelyn Wood, Miss Elsie Millard, the bride’s sister, and Miss Agnes Blyth, were also attired in Empire style. They wore tiny coats of white brocade, finished with silver cords and tassels and buttons, over full skirts of spotted white silken gauze finished at the hem with several soft gauzefrills.Under file coats were folded Empire sashes of pale blue chiffon, while the yokes and mittened sleeves were of point d’Alencon lace. Each bridesmaid carried a long Empire stick, enamelled white, and finished with a gold top. Knots of pale pink roses were tied to the handles with bows and floating ends of pale blue ribbon. The bridesmaids wore miniatures of the bride, set in heart-shaped brooches of brilliants, the gifts to them of the bridegroom. Their hats were of creamcoloured straw, finished with meltings of chiffon over the brims, and handsome Mogador feathers. Under the brim of each was a eluster of roses. The bride’s going away dress was also very pretty. It was of dull white clojh. embroidered with gold through the centre of both skirt and bodice. Lace was let in transparently at the neck, and the sleeves were slashed over under-sleeves of lace. A travelling cloak was provided of palest biscuiteoloured glace, much strapped, and finished with a bolero ami sleeves of heavy guipure lace and tiny silk buttons. A white felt Ravenswood hat. trimmed with rich white plumes and a- large gold buckle was worn. One of the prettiest things in a pretty trousseau was a lovely eveningcloak of white brocade, lined with rose pink satin, and finished with a wonderful roll collar and revers of shaded |>ink satin in accordeon pleated frills, each frill edged with satin rinses made entirely of pink chiffon, so that when the front of the cloak is thrown open, the effect is that of the petals of a rose. LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL’S WEDDING. No marriage has been so much talked of for a long while as that of Lady Randolph Churchill to Mr George Cornwallis West, of the Scots Guards, which took place last. Saturday, a veritable January and May match, as the bridegroom is younger than the

bride's eldest son. The bridegroom's people were naturally enough conspicuously absent, but a fashionable assembly gathered in St. Paul’s, Knightsbridge, and a large crowd collected outside the church. Back from the war, there were Captain, and Lady Sarah Wilson, Mr Winston Churchill, and the Duke of Marlborough, who gave the bride away.

The decorations were very chaste. Tall palms formed a natural are outside the rood screen, with Annunciation lilies and crimson gladioli between. and the altar was covered with pure white blossoms. The bridegroom’s height and slimness (in the actual, not the South African sense) were a great contrast to what one of the morning journals delicately calls the bride’s “ample presence.” •

The Rev. J. Baden-Powell, cousin of “8.P.,” assisted the Sub-Dean of the Chapels Royal, in tying the knot. As a widow. Lady Randiolph had no bridesmaids, but she departed from tradition in wearing a wedding dress, not of grey or heliotrope, but of pale blue chiffon, over glace silk of the same tint. The skirt had broad bands of deep eream coloured Cluny lace down either side, and a flounce of the same bordered the hem, over gathered chiffon frills. Close set tiny tueks ran downwards from the waist. The bolero liodiee opened over a transparent decolletage iof the same lace, which also furnished the sleeves to the elbow, whence they were finished with dainty puffs of the blue chiffon. Some slight drapings crossed the vest of white chiffon, and were drawn up on the left side, under a large diamond and turquoise clasp, and a. diamond necklet was worn. The toque was a very large one. and was chiefly composed of tucked pale blue chiffon, with trimmings bn one side of white roses, and a full soft ornament of marabout plumes. In addition to a small posybouquet of loosely ara nged white roses, the bride carried a white vellumbound Prayer Book.

Her travelling dress was also of pale blue, the material being French silk canvas, the front, of the bodice arranged in small tucks, and almost veiled with a beautiful piece of antique rose point lace. Open work hem stitching was carried in long lines down the closely clinging skirt. With this costume she wore a. long coat of biscuit coloured glace silk, with trimmings of Irish potilt lace and large cavalier cuffs. The toque was of blue chiffon, trimmed with mauve and blue convolvulus.

There was no wedding- reception, but some of the Churchill family and n few intima* frieaffs bad an early lunch with Mr ami Mrs Moreton Frewen (the bride’s sister), before the departure of the newly-wedded pair for Broughton Castle. ’ Banbury, lent, by Lord and Lady Algernon Lennox, for the first part of the honeymoon. The latter end will be spent —with the kind permission of the Boxers—in one of the Chinese treaty ports, where Mrs Cornwallis West will supervise tne “Maine” again. A novel feature of the wedding was the co-operative wedding present, initiated by the Duchess of Devonshire, who arranged with some sixty of the bride's friends to combine their subscriptions in the purchase and presentation of a superb diamond and pearl tiara. Doubtless this example will lie largely followed in subsequent