Etiquetteer is still racing through volume one of Chips Channon’s diaries, which certainly paint a picture of English society between the wars. Amidst his account of the giving and receiving of expensive gifts and dinner parties, especially with royalty, Etiquetteer was brought up short by an incident of Violent Embarrassment. Chips and his wife Honor were dining with their next door neighbors, the Duke and Duchess of Kent, at a large dinner before a ball someplace else. “And,” in the words of the late Gloria Upson, “this ghastly thing happened:”
“Toward the end of dinner I noticed that [Peter Beatty, one of Honor’s dinner partners] got up rather hurriedly, and supposed he had had an urgent telephone message! Not at all, for the Duchess of Kent, sitting opposite, also rose and the ladies followed. He had been sick literally in Honor’s lap, and then in his embarrassment turned to . . . his other neighbour, and she had an unpleasant bath of the beaux restes!! I took Honor home and she changed her frock; and then we returned . . . Then we all went on to Lady Portarlington’s ball . . . I had supper with the Duchess of Sutherland, who told me that Honor had gone home; her evening, it seems, had been ruined by her accident, for her spirits had been too damped to enjoy herself.”
We forget sometimes, with our love of weddings, afternoon tea, beautiful stationery, sumptuous table appointments, and intricate rules that etiquette is for every situation, not just the pretty ones. And in a medical crisis such as this, the most Perfectly Proper thing to do is to solve the problem with as much safety and as little embarrassment as possible.
The Duchess of Kent knew instinctively that the most unobtrusive way to get Honor out of the dining room with little fuss was to get all the ladies out, and so she rose and ended the dinner. Etiquetteer has nothing but admiration for Honor Channon, who was game enough to change clothes and “keep the party going” at least for awhile; who could blame her for wanting to leave the ball early? Chips even records that the unfortunate “Peter Beatty has sent Honor a most cringing apology” a few days later; Etiquetteer would have sent flowers as well — and did so after an unfortunate encounter between red wine and ice blue satin.
As to Chips, well . . . certainly it was chivalrous of him to take his wife home (next door) to change, but Etiquetteer would have preferred to see him more solicitous during the ball. But then, for a man who freely admits in his diary that he’s only comfortable around royalty, is it any surprise that he chucked his wife to take supper with a Duchess? Tsk tsk tsk!
A more Perfectly Proper example would have been President William McKinley, who took such care of his usually ill and temperamental wife Ida, who suffered from periodic epileptic seizures. She didn’t, however, let those keep her from attending state dinners in her White House. The solution: the President always seated her to his left and, when her face would begin to convulse with a seizure, he would throw a large dinner napkin over her head and continue with the conversation. Once the seizure had passed, Ida would remove the napkin and resume dinner.
Etiquetteer wishes you smooth and successful dinners attended by guests in states of Complete Health, and the presence of mind to respond to any situation when they are not.