lacked the glamour of the evening courts, but the ceremonial was no less exacting. So it was on a May afternoon in 1878 that Lillie Langtry found herself, stiff with nerves, waiting to make her curtsey to Queen Victoria at Buckingham Palace.
The Prince of Wales had prepared the ground thoroughly. Earlier that season he had presented Edward Langtry to the Queen at a levée. He had arranged for Lillie's sponsor to be Lady Conyngham, whose credentials, as a member of the Queen's household, were impeccable, and for her actual companion on the day to be Lady Romney. On the morning of the presentation he sent Lillie a huge bouquet of pale yellow Maréchal Neil roses.
This choice of flowers had not been arbitrary. They complimented her dress perfectly. Lillie was wearing, for this great occasion, a dress of ivory brocade with a long court train which hung,
à l'Impératrice Joséphine
, from the shoulders and which was lined with the same pale yellow of the artificial Maréchal Neil roses which garlanded the dress. As the Queen had recently expressed disapproval of the smallness of the obligatory three white feathers which the presentees wore in their hair, Lillie had chosen three of the largest ostrich plumes she could find. It was with some difficulty that she secured these three toweringfeathers and the customary tulle veil, for she still wore her hair coiled in a simple knot low on her neck.
Although gratified at the idea of being presented, Lillie was in two minds about the actual presentation to Queen Victoria. By now, the Queen would almost certainly have known about the Prince's relationship with Mrs Langtry ('Who is it
tells
her these things?' 4 wailed one of Her Majesty's secretaries) and Lillie was, she admits, 'rather afraid' 5 of the Queen. But as Queen Victoria, who now hated all public appearances, was known to spend no more than an hour or so at a Drawing Room and then hand over to the Prince and Princess of Wales, Lillie decided to delay her arrival. In this way she would still be presented at court but without having to face the probably disapproving Queen.
She could not, though, escape the waiting which was such a feature of these presentation days. The Mall was one solid line of carriages: a picturesque river of gleaming coaches, caparisoned horses, bewigged coachmen and powdered footmen, their liveries glittering with gold and silver braid. A good-natured mob of bystanders peered into the carriage windows, hoping for a glimpse of the bejewelled and befeathered occupants.
'It was certainly anything but agreeable,' grumbled Lillie, 'to sit in full costume, with low neck and arms, in bright sunlight, for the edification of the surging crowd.' 6 The fact that many of the presentees had not eaten since early morning, and were obliged to nibble their sandwiches and sip from their flasks in full view, made it less agreeable still.
Things were hardly less tedious in the palace itself. With infinite slowness, the line inched forward. Finally, 'after hours of waiting in the crush room, penned like sheep, with a heavy train folded on one's arm, and a constant dragging at one's tulle veil,' 7 the moment of presentation arrived. Although Lillie's late arrival meant that she would be the last but two to be presented, she was disconcerted to hear that the Queen was still receiving. She was more disconcerted still when, having handed her train to the pages but before having handed her card to the Lord Chamberlain, she heard him say, 'Mrs Langtry comes next, Your Majesty.' Quite clearly, the Queen had been waiting for her.
'It seems,' writes Lillie, 'that she had a great desire to see me, and had stayed on in order to satisfy herself as to my appearance. It was even added that she was annoyed because I was so late in passing.' 8
True or not, Queen Victoria certainly looked annoyed as Lillieapproached. Yet, to the trembling Lillie, this merely added to her air of majesty. The simplicity of the Queen's low-necked and