I once asked Lord Bill when we were speaking of this very matter, that is to say, the amount of feeling we contrived to hide in our everyday life, when he told me of several strange things that had happened in his life of which he had had strong pre-sentiments; one was in connection with racing, and the others purely private matters; this led me to ask him if he was superstitious; he replied, “I like to think I am not, but I am always very careful not to wound people’s susceptibilities on that point, having some of that feeling which is supposed to make us wondrous kind.”
Superstition is a thing I suppose that can hardly be described or accounted for, as some of the happenings in our lives refuse to be explained by any hitherto understood methods or any rules or lines of our acquaintance; and also there are times when we are not ourselves, oh strange and bitter paradox!
Lord William’s way of keeping people in order was very much to the point generally, and yet he did it very charmingly. An A.D.C. once had been hauled over the coals by him, and at the end of it said, “What a good fellow Lord Bill is, how thoroughly he rubbed me down, and yet how like a gentleman.”
Another rather amusing instance was when the Rajah of Nabha was giving a party or entertainment to Lord Lansdowne. A conjurer had been engaged to amuse those present; he was a rather persistent personage, at that time wandering round India seeking a living, and performing at native courts.
Lord William, who of course had the arranging of all this sort of functions, told this professor his entertainment must not last more than twenty minutes; this he strongly objected to, declaring it would entirely spoil his show, did not give him a chance, and so on, he would require at least an hour. While expressing his sorrow at causing so much annoyance and disappointment, Lord Bill stuck to his point and said not more than twenty minutes could possibly be allowed; he evidently saw defiance in the man’s attitude, and made his arrangements accordingly.
The performance began, Lord William looking on, watch in hand. At the end of a quarter of an hour the British magician was warned he had only five minutes more. He took no notice, and continued his lofty way. At the end of twenty minutes he was told to stop. Still he took no notice, continuing his tricks and patter, when at a sign from Lord William a native conjurer, who had been watching huddled up in a corner, bounded into the middle of the floor with a tom-tom and commenced a most deafening and unearthly noise. A tom-tom, it should be explained, is a rattling sort of thing rather like a drum gone wrong. The native had been waiting for the sign of command, watching the conjurer much as a terrier watches a rat, waiting to be told to “Go.” This indignity was too much for the white performer, he collapsed, and the native then proceeded to make mango trees grow in a few seconds out of stones and from under flower-pots, etc. Those present were much tickled at the whole proceeding.