Catherine of Braganza sailed for England, and on the lath of May,
1662, Charles, attended by a splendid following, went to meet his
bride at Portsmouth. He was himself a very personable man, tall--
he stood a full six feet high--lean and elegantly vigorous. The
ugliness of his drawn, harsh-featured face was mitigated by the
glory of full, low-ridded, dark eyes, and his smile could be
irresistibly captivating. He was as graceful in manner as in
person, felicitous of speech, and of an indolent good temper that
found expression in a charming urbanity.
Good temper and urbanity alike suffered rudely when he beheld the
wife they brought him. Catherine, who was in her twenty-fifth
year, was of an absurdly low stature, so long in the body and
short in the legs that, dressed as she was in an outlandish,
full-skirted farthingale, she had the appearance of being on her
knees when she stood before him. Her complexion was sallow, and
though her eyes, like his own, were fine, they were not fine
enough to redeem the dull plainness of her face. Her black hair
was grotesquely dressed, with a long fore-top and two great
ribbon bows standing out, one on each side of her head, like a
pair of miniature wings.
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