CHAPTER LV

THE PRESENTATIONS

THOUGH the Duke of Tergiversation was extremely particular in making his appointments, he was most unpunctual in keeping them; and, notwithstanding he had requested the sturdy Squires to be at the Triumphal Arch at “ten minutes to eleven—ten minutes to eleven, punctually, if they pleased,” he was so taken up with his papers, and the Prince with the Lady Honoria, that it was a quarter to twelve ere the two, with Lord March-hare for vis-à-vis, left the Castle in the carriage-and-four for the scene of action, and then proceeded at a slow pace through the glades and windings of the Park, in order to enable his Grace to point out the beauties and extent of the place. His Grace was on the high horse that day. Meanwhile the Squires had begun to be rather growly, looked at their watches, and looked at the sky, and talked about losing the best part of the day.

“Sail, ahooi!” at length cried Captain Cambo, who was still on the quarter-deck, as the yellow livery of the out-rider rounded Holling Green wood, whereupon murmuring tongues were silenced, and all eyes turned to where the scarlet-jacketed postillions were g—e—e—ntly rising in their stirrups to the piloting of the yellow guide.

“Here they come!” was then the cry, and animation was infused into the late muttering, murmuring group.

On the carriage came, at an easy airing-like pace, looking as though it were Midsummer-day, and that there was no one concerned in the drive but themselves. Presently the red vest of the out-rider was visible, next his red collar and cuffs, and then the bright, closely arranged buttons of the postillions’ jackets began to glitter in the sun. A jerk of the head, with a wave of the whip-hand of the out-rider, now showed where the carriage was going to set down at the Lodges, when up it presently came, amid a general hoist of pigeon-pie hats, wide-awakes, Glengarries, and other head-coverings. All was then condescension and politeness.

The carriage having drawn up in good form, two highly powdered footmen in the rumble were presently at the door, the noiseless steps unfolded, and the well muffled up trio descended and entered Mr. Ranger’s lodge to unwrap and prepare themselves. That ceremony over, with the aid of Mrs. Ranger, the Duke presently appeared dressed in a full suit of heather-coloured Tweed, with a muffin-cap of a similar material on his head, now ushering the bearded Prince, who was attired in a very splendid Lancer-like gold-laced green foraging-cap with a square patent leather peak, a tightish fitting green tunic buttoning down the front and secured at the waist by a black patent leather gold or gilt lion-headed clasped belt. Greenish tinged doe-skin trousers, and leather-topped buttoned boots of a similar hue, encased his Highness’s extremities, altogether a very different costume to that of the banditti-looking party to whom he was now about to be presented, or rather who were now to be presented, to his Highness. A general stare and flutter ensued as the great men emerged from the Lodge on the left of the Arch, and the little boys jumped up, and stood on tip-toe, or pressed past taller people in order to get a sight of the hero.

Then the ceremony of shaking hands, and grinning, and welcoming, and inquiring after wives and families, had to be undertaken by the Duke under the doubly disadvantageous circumstance of not being very sure of his men at any time, even in their usual attire, let alone in the grotesque costume many of them had now assumed.

Every great man should be allowed a “Remembrancer,” a person to prompt, and tell him who people are, and hint their peculiarities as they approach; for they all expect to be properly identified for ever after an introduction, thinking because they remember the stranger, that the stranger must remember them, forgetful of the fact that they have but one face to digest and remember, whereas the stranger has a whole host. Who doesn’t know the difficulty of “who’s whoing” a field of fox-hunters after an introduction, and again of identifying the same parties in an evening?

Candidates at elections always have a smart somebody at their elbows to tell them who people are, and perhaps indicate their peculiarities, as, for instance, this corpulent gentleman with the green cutaway-coat and buff waistcoat is Mr. Stopgap the master of the Mugginsworth harriers, and forthwith Mr. Embryo, M.P., begins ingratiating himself by inquiring first after the health of Mrs. Stopgap, and all the little Stopgaps (twelve in number); then after the hounds, with hopes that they “continue to show the sport for which they have always been famous”—a good safe venture, seeing that if they have never shown any, the hope will be right. Or if the approacher is a sour, sombre, cadaverous-looking gentleman, with perhaps a tract peeping out of his long, puritanical coat-pocket, the prompter will say, this is Mr. Soberton, the great teetotaler, whereupon the candidate revolves the circle of his ideas, and up turns a dissertation on the virtues of temperance, and anathemas against Brandy and Beer-shops, wine and spirits generally. So the smiling gentleman passes from grave to gay, from lively to severe, each voter feeling the full force of his compliments. How much better this is than calling Mr. Riffield Mr. Driffield, asking after a man’s children who has none, or hoping Mr. Bolter’s good lady, who has just been Sir Cresswell Cresswell’d, is quite well.

But we are keeping our great men waiting, and this too on a fine but cool winter’s day, so let us operate upon the group at the Lodge.

A Prince being a rarity anywhere, and the Duke intending to make capital out of the visit, was most particular in sowing the seeds of his crop by bringing up all those whom he thought were to be influenced by a flattering presentation—First he called up Mr. Daintry, the second swell of the party, and introduced him as his “excellent friend and neighbour Daintry,” whereupon the Prince gesticulated—was much proud to make Daintry’s acquaintance, and asked him “at vot time of year his ewes lambed?” Before Daintry could hit upon the answer, Mr. Wheeler was brought forward, and was put through his facings; then Captain Cambo, next Humphrey Cheadle, and finally Tonguey Thomson was hounded upon him, from whom the Prince at length got an answer to the question he had propounded to all the rest, namely, “Vot time of de year his ewes lambed?”

Brown White and Colonel Nettlestead alone were unpresented.