Panoplied Scarlet, Blue, And Gold At The King’s Levee

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 394, 30 June 1928, Page 24

Panoplied Scarlet, Blue, And Gold At The King’s Levee

(Written for THE SUM by HORACE WYNDHAM.)

WHAT a “Court'’ at Buckingham Palace is to a woman, so is a “Levee” at St. James’s Palace to a man: that is, an opportunity to meet his Sovereign. Still, while such func-j t.ions are limited to the sterner sex (and are thus ungraced by curtseying dowagers and blushing debutantes, and the other decorative features that accompany them), they are not without distinctive pageantry of their own. The scene of a Levee is always the Throne Room at. St. James’s Palace. Four of these functions are held there each year, generally in the early spring and summer. Permission to attend has to be applied for through the head of the service or department to which the applicant belongs. Thus, naval and military officers submit their requests to the Admiralty and the War Office; judges and barristers to the Lord Chancellor: civil servants to the chief of their branch; and private gentlemen to the Lord-Lieutenant of their county. AU who have one are expected to wear full-dress uniform at a Levee. The result is a panoply of scarlet and blue and gold, waving feathers in cocked hats, and glittering orders and medals. Diplomatists and Privy Councillors have their distinctive attire: judges and barristers appear in wigs and robes; and bishops and clergy in lawn sleeves and canonicals. Private gentlemen array themselves in Court dress. This consists of a tail coat of black velvet, with cut steel buttons, white satin waistcoat, black knee-breeches and silk stockings, white bow tie. buckled shoes, and cocked hat and sword. As an alternative to the black velvet coat, thi3 garment can he of cloth (claret, or green, or mulberry m colour), with embroidered cuffs and pocket flaps, and gilt buttons complete.

Despite the honour it confers on the recipient, a summons to attend a Levee is not always welcomed by people of strictly economical instincts. This is because the cost of the appropriate attire is rather heavy. A certain diplomatist for years avoided such functions, since each step in rank accorded him had to be marked by an extra width of gold braid on his trousers. King Edward, however, getting to hear of this, once issued a special command to him, scribbling on the accompanying summons the message, “T am sorry, Sir Henry, but now you will really have to buy a new pair.” Officers, as a rule, are accompanied m tar as the courtyard of the Palace br their servants or batmen; and the ■waiting crowd of onlookers, whose gauntlet they run, sees a final polish being given to the cuirasses and jackboots of Household Cavalrymen, and lingering spots of dust carefully flicked from scabbards and tunics. Then the wearers of all this magnificence disappear. swallowed up among the throng surging through a door opposite the wall of Marlborough House. It is an exceedingly picturesque one. All ranks of the Services, from veteran admirals and field-marshals and generals down to humble captains and the last-joined subalterns; peers of the realm in their ermine-trimmed

robes; Scottish Archers in green r doublets; High Sheriffs and Lords-1' Lieutenant; ambassadors and diplomat-! ists; and last, but not least (in their j own estimation) private individuals, j looking a little self-conscious. Sharp on the stroke of 12 ndon, amid j: a clattering of hoofs and the jingling!

of spurs, a ‘‘Sovereign’s Escort” of the Household Cavalry trots along the Mall, and the National Anthem heralds the arrival of his Majesty. Passing quickly into the Palace, he seats himself on the Throne, and gives the word to the Marshal of the Ceremonies. Everything goes like clockwork. As each individual in the long queue steps forward, his card of admission is handed from one official to another unfil it reaches the Lord Chamberlain, He looks at the name written there, and then announces it in a clear voice. Thereupon, the bearer (offering up, a silent prayer that he will not trip over his sword, or find his spurs entangled in the carpet—such catastrophes have happened!) advances

three steps and bows to his Majesty, j The King acknowledges the bow, and jthe other passes on, to make room for jthe next who is following him. That j is all. | A Levee is a link with bygone times, ja tradition handed down from the I long distant past. It is thus something

! more than a mere opportunity for : wearing fine clothes. Definite prestige i attaches to the honour of meet- ; ing the Sovereign. All who have ■ done so in this fashion have their i names recorded on an official list; and, as such, are eligible for invitations to i State balls and dinner-parties, etc.; i and they are also privileged to accoms pany their women-folk to "Courts” at ’ Buckingham Palace. Their names, too, . are given to Viceroys, Governors, and , Ambassadors abroad. Further, this ■ distinction is a pa ssport to the jealouslyi guarded Royal Enclosure at Ascot, i and to the membership of certain - ultra-exclusive London clubs. Alto- - gether, attending a Levee is decidedly i “worth while.”