Five round tables were laid in the same hall immediately afterwards—­each accommodating ten guests.  As soon as the first course of twenty-five dishes had been put upon the chief table, the bride and bridegroom, the Elector and Electress, the Spanish and Danish envoys and others, were escorted to it, and the banquet began.  During the repast, the Elector’s choir and all the other bands discoursed the “merriest and most ingenious music.”  The noble vassals handed the water, the napkins, and the wine, and every thing was conducted decorously and appropriately.  As soon as the dinner was brought to a close, the tables were cleared away, and the ball began in the same apartment.  Dances, previously arranged, were performed, after which “confects and drinks” were again distributed, and the bridal pair were then conducted to the nuptial chamber.

The wedding, according to the Lutheran custom of the epoch, had thus taken place not in a church, but in a private dwelling; the hall of the town-house, representing, on this occasion, the Elector’s own saloons.  On the following morning, however, a procession was formed at seven o’clock to conduct the newly-married couple to the church of St. Nicholas, there to receive an additional exhortation and benediction.  Two separate companies of gentlemen, attended by a great number of “fifers, drummers, and trumpeters,” escorted the bride and the bridegroom, “twelve counts wearing each a scarf of the Princess Anna’s colors, with golden garlands on their heads and lighted torches in their hands,” preceding her to the choir, where seats had been provided for the more illustrious portion of the company.  The church had been magnificently decked in tapestry, and, as the company entered, a full orchestra performed several fine motettos.  After listening to a long address from Dr. Pfeffinger, and receiving a blessing before the altar, the Prince and Princess of Orange returned, with their attendant processions, to the town-house.

After dinner, upon the same and the three following days, a tournament was held.  The lists were on the market-place, on the side nearest the town-house; the Electress and the other ladies looking down from balcony and window to “rain influence and adjudge the prize.”  The chief hero of these jousts, according to the accounts in the Archives, was the Elector of Saxony.  He “comported himself with such especial chivalry” that his far-famed namesake and remote successor, Augustus the Strong, could hardly have evinced more knightly prowess.  On the first day he encountered George Von Wiedebach, and unhorsed him so handsomely that the discomfited cavalier’s shoulder was dislocated.  On the following day he tilted with Michael von Denstedt, and was again victorious, hitting his adversary full in the target, and “bearing him off over his horse’s tail so neatly, that the knight came down, heels over head, upon the earth.”