THE QUEEN'S GUARD (ST. JAMES'S PALACE)
"The best dinner in London, sir!" was what our fathers always added
when, with a touch of gratification, they used to tell of having been
asked to dine on the Queen's Guard at St. James's; and nowadays, when
the art of dinner-giving has come to be very generally understood, the
man who likes good cooking and good company still feels very pleased
to be asked to dinner by one of the officers of the guard, for the
old renown is still justified, and there is a fascination in the
surroundings that is not to be obtained by unlimited money spent in any
restaurant.
Past the illuminated clock of the Palace, the hands of which mark
five minutes to eight, in through an arched gate, across one of the
courts, and in a narrow passage where a window gives a glimpse of
long rows of burnished pots and pans, is a black-painted door with,
on the door-jamb, a legend of black on white telling that this is the
officers' guard.
Up some wooden stairs with leaden edges to them, stairs built for
use and not for ornament; and, the guests' coats being taken by a
clean-shaved butler in evening clothes, we are at once in the officers'
room.
It is a long room, lighted on one side by a great bow-window, flanked
by two other windows. At the farthest end of the room from the door is
a mantel of grey and white marble. The walls are painted a comfortable
green colour, and there are warm crimson curtains to the windows. There
are many pictures upon the walls; and a large sofa, leather-covered
armchairs, and a writing-table in the bow of the window give an air
of comfort to the room. A great screen, which, in its way, is a work
of art, being covered with cuttings of all periods, from Rowlandson's
caricatures to the modern style of military prints, is drawn out
from the wall so as to divide the room into two portions. On the
door side of the screen stands in one corner the regimental colour
of the battalion finding the guard, and here, too, are the bearskin
head-dresses of the officers.
On the fireplace side of the screen is a table ready set for dinner,
the clear glass decanters at the corners being filled with champagne,
a silver-gilt vase forming the centre-piece, and candles in silver
candelabra giving the necessary light. By the fireplace the officers of
the guard, in scarlet and gold and black, are waiting to receive their
guests.
In addition to the officers of the St. James's guard, the adjutant and
colonel of the battalion that finds the guard, the two officers of
the Household cavalry on guard at the Horse Guards, and some of the
military officials of the Court have a right to dine. But it is rarely
that all entitled to this privilege avail themselves of it, and the
captain and officers of the guard generally are able to ask some guests.
As, on the stroke of eight, on the evening I am writing of, we sat down
to dinner my host told me that he had ordered a typical meal for me.
This was the menu:--
Potage croûte au pot.
Eperlans à l'Anglaise.
Bouchées à la moëlle.
Côtelettes de mouton. Purée de marrons.
Poularde à la Turque.
Hure truffée. Sauce Cumberland.
Pluviers dorés.
Pommes de terre Anna.
Champignons grillés.
Omelette soufflée.
Huîtres à la Diable.
The hand of M. Gautier, the messman, was to be recognised throughout;
and the spatchcocked smelts, the boar's head, with its sharp-tasting
sauce, and the _soufflée_, I recognised as being favourite dishes on
the Queen's Guard.
On this evening the wearers of the black coats, as well as the red,
had served Her Majesty, at one time or another, in various parts
of the world, and our talk drifted to the subject of the various
officers' guards all over the British world. In hospitality the Castle
Guard at Dublin probably comes next to the guard at St. James's, for
the officers of the guard fare excellently there at the Viceregal
expense. The Bank guards, both in the City and at College Green, have
compensating advantages, and the officer's guard at Fort William,
Calcutta, has helped many an impoverished subaltern to buy a polo pony.
The story goes that some rich native falling ill close to the gate of
Fort William, the subaltern on guard took him up to the guard-room
and treated him kindly, and in consequence, in his will, the native
left provision for a daily sum of rupees to be given to the subaltern
on guard. These rupees are paid every day minus one, retained by the
_babus_ as a charge for "stationery," and though all the little tin
gods both at Calcutta and Simla have exerted themselves to recover for
the subaltern that rupee, the power of the _babu_ has been too strong,
and the stationery item still represents the missing rupee. We chatted
of the Malta guard, with its collection of pictures on the wall; of
dreary hours at Gibraltar, with nothing to do except to construct
sugar-covered fougasses to blow up flies; and of exciting moments at
Peshawar, when the chance of being shot by one's own sentries made
going the rounds a real affair of outposts.
Then I asked questions about the gilt centre-piece, which is in the
shape of an Egyptian vase with sphinxes on the base, and was told
that the holding capacities of it were beyond the guessing of any one
who had not seen the experiment tried. Some of the other plate which
is put upon the table at the close of dinner is of great interest.
There is a cigar-lighter in the shape of a grenade given by His Royal
Highness the Prince of Wales, a silver cigar-cutter, a memento of an
inter-regimental friendship made at manœuvres, and a snuff-box made
from one of the hoofs of Napoleon's charger Marengo. Which hoof it
was is not stated on the box, but the collective wisdom of the table
decided that it must have been the near hind one. Excepting on days
when the Scots Guards are on guard, Her Majesty's health is not, I
believe, drunk after dinner--though I fancy that H.R.H. the Prince
of Wales, dining on guard, broke through this custom. The regiment
from across the Border was at one time suspected of a leaning towards
Jacobitism, and while the officers were ordered to drink His Majesty's
health they were not allowed to use finger-glasses after dinner, lest
they should drink to the King over the water.
Dinner over, the big sofa is pulled round in front of the fire, and
a whist-table and a game of drawing-room cricket each claims its
devotees. I asked my host to be allowed to inspect the pictures which
pretty well cover the walls. The most important is an excellent
portrait of Her Majesty in the early part of her reign. It is the work
of "Lieut.-Col. Cadogan," and was begun on the wall of a guard-room--at
Windsor, I fancy. The surface of the wall was cut off, the picture
finished, and it now hangs, a fine work of art but a tremendous weight,
in the place of honour. There is an admirable oil-colour of the old
Duke of Wellington, showing a kindly old face looking down, a pleasant
difference from the alert aquiline profile which most of his portraits
show. There are prints of other celebrated generals, mostly Guardsmen,
and an amusing caricature of three kings dining on guard. It is a very
unfurnished guard-room, with a bare floor, in which their Majesties
are being entertained, but the enthusiasm with which the officers are
drinking their health makes up for the surroundings. A key to the print
hangs hard by, but the names attached to the various figures are said
to have been written in joke. Many of the pictures are sporting prints
and hunting caricatures; but the original of _Vanity Fair's_ sketch of
Dan Godfrey is in one corner; and a strange old picture of a battle,
painted on a tea-tray, hangs over the door.
On either side of the looking-glass, above the mantelpiece, are the
list of officers on duties and the orders for the guard, the latter
with a glass over them, which is supposed to have been cracked in
Marlborough's time. Some very admirably arranged caricatures, with
explanatory notes, are bound into a series of red volumes and kept in a
glazed set of shelves, and these, with a number of blue-bound volumes
of the _Pall Mall Magazine_, form all the library available for the
officers on guard.
As the hands of the clock near eleven, the butler, who has been handing
round "pegs" in long tumblers, takes up his position by the door.
Military discipline is inexorable, and we (the guests) know that we
must be out of the precincts of the guard by eleven o'clock. We say
good-night to our hosts, and as we go downstairs we hear the clank of
swords being buckled on.
Outside in the courtyard a sergeant and a drummer and a man with a
lantern are waiting for the officer to go the rounds.
3_rd January_.