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English Queen Mary's brother, the Earl of Athlone, Governor of Windsor Castle, bore the delay without appearing bored, but the Duke of Kent, who some years ago was mooted as a bridegroom for Crown Princess Juliana (she was later a bridesmaid at his wedding), fidgeted and fumed with the "shyness" notable in all sons of King George V. A Dutch Cabinet Minister passed around chocolates, and these the Dutch and German guests beamishly consumed. The British would not eat in a Dutch church, as "it isn't done in England," and the shyness of Kent became each moment more excruciating.
In at last walked Crown Princess Juliana, her bridal gown of ivory satin in classical lines, her veil of tulle embroidered with the silver roses of Lippe-Biesterfeld, her train 18 feet long carried by four chil dren, and her sash of orange blossoms sent by loyal Dutchmen who grow oranges in Italy. The twelve bridesmaids were in six pairs, each pair dressed in a differing pastel color to produce a soft "rainbow effect" desired by the Crown Princess. She tripped over a cushion just as she was about to sit down in one of the two "bridal chairs" — there is no altar in a Dutch church — but Prince Bernhard kept his bride from falling, and later, when a diamond bracelet fell off her Royal Highness' arm, he smoothly restored it. The clasp of her diamond necklace held.
"Serene Highness" was the inferior German title of Prince Bernhard up to the bridal moment. The Dutch pastor, having performed the marriage with the usual Dutch exchange of rings, remarked to the new Prince Consort of The Netherlands, "I may now address you as Your Royal Highness." Amid cheers which made the whole city of The Hague bedlam, the wedding procession wound its way amid Dutch ohs and ahs at the brilliant cavalcade. Then, after luncheon at the Royal Palace, the Prince Consort & Crown Princess managed the impossible. With the connivance of the world press, the newlyweds, ostensibly bound for Innsbruck, boarded a train at The Hague and entirely disappeared. Even the New York Times, ordinarily intolerant of mysteries, headlined benignly, "JULIANA AND PRINCE MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEAR."
At Igls near Innsbruck the best hotel had its bridal suite decked with blooms; the chef, with his eye on the railway timetable, had a sumptuous dinner under way; the town councilmen were in their frock coats; the town band had practiced up the Dutch national anthem.
In steamed the train, but Their Royal Highnesses were not on it. From The Hague the hotel proprietor received a terse Dutch telegram canceling the honeymoon reservations, explaining "the plans of Their Royal Highnesses have changed." Two days later Their Royal Highnesses were discovered merrily honeymooning in Krynica, a jolly little ski resort in the Carpathian Mountains of Southern Poland.