THE KING’S LEVEE

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 175, 20 April 1929, Page 28

THE KING’S LEVEE

Social conditions have altered since the period when every male subject had, at a certain appointed time, a definite right to enter the presence of his Sovereign. The Sovereign nowadays intimates that he will be prepared to receive in audience such gentlemen as are granted permission to pay their respects to him. By command of the King, tire Levee which the Prince of Wales held at St. James’s Palace in February was deemed the equivalent, of a similar function held by His Majesty himself. Permission either to “attend” or to be “presented” at a Levee has to be applied for in advance from the Constituted officers get their cards of admission authorities. Thus, naval and military from the Admiralty and the War Office; Civil servants; from the heads of their respective Departments; and private individuals from St. James’s Palace. There, is a technical difference between “attending” and being “presented.” The latter comes first. Any official who has already been “presented” at a Levee is, by established custom, expected to “attend” should he afterwards reach a higher grade. This is a matter of etiquette, and one on which King Edward was rather insistent. As, however, it entailed a somewhat costly alteration to his attire (an extra gold stripe) a certain individual who possessed a marked “economy-complex” once put off doing so, despite the hints he received. Thereupon His Majesty sent for him. “I’m sorry, Sir Thomas,” he said, “but you’ll simply have to get yourself a new pair of trousers now, because I’m feoing to advance you to a Governorship.” The gathering at. a Levee is thoroughly typical of the Empire. Soldiers and sailors, Civil servants and politicians, diplomatists and dignatories of the Church and the Law, finance and society, governors and pro-consuls from the overseas Dominions, men who have made history and men who have yet to make it, .veterans, white - headed (and bald-headed) and beardless youths in their first uniform. Yet, whatever their age or rank of service, all are joined toge.ther to honour their Sovereign.

As full-dress is always worn where possible, the assembly at a Levee is of the most sartorially picturesque description imaginable. Every variety of head-dress, from turbans and cocked hats and helmets down to feather bonnets, busbies, and shakos. A similar variety of uniform. Thus blue and scarlet for naval apd military officers; green for the Scottish Archers and'Riflemen; kilts and “trews,” pantaloons and trousers; frock coats and tunics, and doublets and shell-jackets. Ambassadors and diplomatists in gold lace embroidery: Judges and King’s Counsel in full-bot-tomed wigs ;' bishops in lawn sleeves; and private gentlemen in unaccustomed black velvet coats and knee breeches. Everywhere, too, glittering medals and clanking- swords. Still, as a concession to the slender resources of newly-appointed officers, “service, dress” may be worn by those who have not yet provided themselves with “full dress.” There is thus a certain amount of drab khaki among all this magnificence ; and puttees and caps are mixed up with gold-laced overalls, and plumed helmets. Entering the Palace through a doorway under the colonnade opposite the wail'of Marlborough House, the company pass up a staircase flanked by the Yeomen of the Guard. A preliminary dress inspection is now taken by experienced members of the Lord Chamberlain’s staff. At the entrance to the Throne-room the name on each gentleman’s card is read out by the Lord Chamberlain. Thereupon the bearer advances three steps, bows to the Throne, and passes on to make room for the one following him. He is not actually “in the presence” for more than a minute. Still, he has been “presented.” He has bowed to his Sovereign, and his Sovereign has bowed to him. '

A Levee at St. James’s Palace is a link with the pageantry of the past, a tradition with a long wealth of ceremonial history behind it. As such, it stretches back to a period when existence was less complicated and more leisurely, when ’“wireless” and “talkies” were as little dreamed of as ma-chine-guns and tanks.

Still, although these leisurely days have gone, never to return, the Levee remains a symbol of - loyalty to the Throne. That it may long continue is the earnest wish of all who have the well-being of their Sovereign and Empire, at heart.