EQUERRY TO THE PRINCE OF WALES
I came into waiting on the Prince of Wales for the first time in May
1893, and one of the interesting minor events which happened during
that month was the début of the famous cutter yacht, _Britannia_, who
sailed her maiden race with her illustrious owner on board. It was
not very easy for the Prince, with all his multifarious engagements,
to find two spare days in the middle of the London Season, and indeed
he was very seldom able to be on board his yacht except during the
Cowes week, and in the early spring when visiting the Riviera. But the
_Britannia's_ début at the Royal Thames Regatta was really something
of an occasion, for at that time very great public interest was taken
in yacht racing, and for three or four consecutive seasons the number
of big racing cutters was abnormally large. Additional importance was
attached to her behaviour in her first race, owing to the fact that the
_Britannia_ was known to be almost on the same lines as the _Valkyrie_,
which later in the year was to race on the other side of the Atlantic
for the America Cup. We had two good days' racing on the Thames, and
after very close finishes the _Britannia_ beat the _Valkyrie_ two days
running. These two yachts encountered each other on many occasions; it
was a near thing between them, but on the whole the _Britannia_ was
very slightly the better boat of the two.
[Illustration: _Photo: Kirk, Cowes_]
"BRITANNIA" RACING AT COWES]
Whilst on the subject of Yacht Racing, for those who are interested
in that sport, it may as well be stated here that the _Britannia_ was
probably the most successful large racing cutter ever put into the
water. Built on the Clyde by Messrs. Henderson, designed by Watson, and
in the charge, as she was during her racing career, of a very strong
combination of talent in the person of Mr. Willy Jameson and the late
John Carter her skipper, she competed (and on the whole had the best
of it), against one older crack racer the _Iverna_; five boats of her
own year, namely the _Valkyrie_, _Satanita_, _Calluna_, _Vigilant_ and
_Navahoe_; (these two last were American boats, the _Vigilant_ having
been the successful defender of the America Cup); and two later English
boats, the _Aurora_ and _Ailsa_. It was not until the German Emperor's
large cutter, _Meteor_, appeared on the scene, four years later, that
she had to give up her pride of place, and could be said to have been
definitely outbuilt, and after all _Meteor_ was also of Watson design,
and was in fact a merely enlarged _Britannia_.
I was in waiting again in August when the Prince and Princess of Wales
were in residence on board the Royal Yacht, _Osborne_, at Cowes. There
were some six or seven days' hard racing under the auspices of the
Royal Yacht Squadron, the Royal London Club at Cowes, and the Royal
Victoria Club at Ryde. The Prince, at this holiday season, could race
to his heart's content, and all the best-known habitués of Cowes,
female and male, were in turn invited on board the yacht; and as, in
addition, the whole Royal party of the _Osborne_ were almost invariably
sailing in the _Britannia_, it can be easily supposed that she carried
more passengers than did most racing yachts; but this fact certainly
did not interfere with her sailing qualities, for she was wonderfully
successful.
At the end of the Ryde week the Prince left Cowes for his usual cure
at Homburg, and I was left in charge of the _Britannia_ while she
was completing the round of the Regattas on the Western Ports. This
arrangement took place for two or three years running, and, as far as
I was personally concerned, nothing could have been more delightful.
The Prince, with that extraordinary consideration that he always
displayed towards the members of his Staff, used to allow me to take a
companion with me. One year it was the late Lord Hardwicke, then Lord
Royston, who was my shipmate. On another occasion it was my friend,
Hugh Tyrrwhitt. It was immense fun. As soon as the Solent Regatta
came to an end the whole fleet of racing yachts, big and small, used
to start under cruising canvas to the westward, for the Regattas
held successively at Weymouth, Torquay and Dartmouth, to finish the
season at Plymouth. At each place the town and neighbourhood was _en
fête_ for their Regatta week, which was for them the greatest week of
the year. Various cruising yachts used to accompany the fleet. Lord
Ormonde (who, sad to relate, has died since these lines were written),
then Vice-Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron, used generally to
come round with his family and a few friends. The _Iverna_, Mr.
John Jameson's yacht, usually carried not only Mr. Willy Jameson,
_Britannia's_ head jockey, but also his charming wife, Mrs. Jameson,
the sister of Field-Marshal Earl Haig.
The result of all this was that at the end of a long day's racing, one
could have the cheeriest of dinners on board the various yachts, and in
fact there were few pleasanter ways of spending the month of August.
The Regattas usually came to an end early in September just in time to
enable one to go to Yorkshire for the Doncaster Races.
Doncaster Races for some years running meant, as far as I was
concerned, being one of a very pleasant party that used to assemble
yearly at Escrick, the late Lord Wenlock's place not far from York, as
the guests of the late Mr. Jack Menzies and his wife, who, a few years
ago, married, for her second husband, one of my colleagues, Colonel Sir
George Holford.
Naturally, the composition of the party varied slightly from year
to year, but there was always a certain number of the same people,
especially as regards the men, for the really keen racing men never
missed the St. Leger. It is too sad a task to give their names, for
so many of them, like our host, are no longer with us; but pleasanter
racing parties there never were, for the women and men that filled
the house were all really keen. It was a long day for the ladies. We
had to leave Escrick soon after eleven to catch the special train
that conveyed us to Doncaster, and it used to be nearly seven o'clock
by the time we got back. Those were days of high betting, and when,
as occasionally happened at Doncaster, things were going badly for
backers, the Escrick lot was one of those that contributed pretty
largely to the coffers of the Ring; but whether it was a winning or
losing week, nothing ever marred the cheeriness of the party.
Amongst other hospitable houses from which I have "done" Doncaster
Races were Rufford Abbey, Lord Savile's beautiful home; Tranby Croft,
the late Mr. Arthur Wilson's place, not far from Hull; and Wiseton,
belonging to that fine soldier, General Sir J. Laycock.
Another month that I was very apt to be on duty was October, and I
think that perhaps on the whole it was the pleasantest "wait" of the
whole year, entailing, as it did, a couple of weeks at Newmarket. I
really loved the life there. The Prince of Wales had his own little
apartment in the Jockey Club Rooms, so there was no place where he
could be more absolutely free. He generally managed to get a good deal
of his correspondence done before his early morning ride, and after
breakfast in the Jockey Club Room, he had another couple of hours
at his disposal before Racing. The Newmarket breakfast was a very
pleasant meal in that big, quiet room looking on to a well-kept lawn,
and consumed with the perfectly miraculous appetite that is given by a
canter over the Heath. There were generally two or three other members
of the Jockey Club at breakfast, who had been similarly engaged, and
one of them was almost invariably the late Lord Suffolk. He was always
primed with the latest racing information, which he had succeeded in
gleaning during his morning walk, and, moreover, he was a wonderfully
good _causeur_ (I really do not know the exact equivalent in English,
for "talker" does not convey quite the same idea). I always considered
him to be one of the most agreeable men I ever met, and those who have
read some of his short stories, mostly on the subject of Racing, will
remember that his writings were distinguished by a remarkably pleasant
style and a great charm of expression. There happen to be two admirable
specimens in the Badminton Book on Racing.
Sometimes the mornings before racing were spent in partridge-driving
in the neighbourhood; but more often shooting took place on the Monday
or the Saturday of the Cesarewitch and Houghton weeks, and generally
the intermediate week was spent in a like manner in the neighbourhood
of Newmarket. I remember being in attendance during a visit that the
Prince paid to Mr. Willy Jameson at Stowlangtoft. Always a good shoot,
in that particular year the Manor fairly swarmed with partridge. But
the whole of the country round Newmarket lends itself to sport, and
especially to partridge-driving. Within a very small radius, which in
these days of motors would literally entail only a twenty minutes'
drive, Stetchworth, Six Mile Bottom, Chippenham, and Cheveley could
all be reached, and as far as the quantity of game was concerned, one
place would be nearly as good as the other. Six Mile Bottom was perhaps
the best partridge-driving ground of all, for the belts over which
the birds were driven were so substantial and well placed; the late
Duke of Cambridge had it on lease for many years, and generally made
Newmarket his temporary abode when shooting over the Manor. His Royal
Highness was always very keen about the sport, and with the aid of one
of the most perfect weight-carrying hacks that I ever saw, could get
about from beat to beat without too much fatigue.
But to leave the neighbourhood and return to the little town of
Newmarket itself, another feature of the Race weeks were the dinner
parties given at the various houses in the town. The old fashion of
dining at the Jockey Club Rooms had rather died out, principally owing
to the ladies having taken to patronising Newmarket to such a great
extent, so the Prince was in the habit of dining out regularly during
his sojourns there, and was a constant guest at the houses of the
late Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, the late Sir Daniel Cooper, the
late Lord and Lady Cadogan, and the late Mr. Leopold de Rothschild.
Mrs. Leo, as she was always called by her many friends, of whom I am
glad to be a very old one, and her husband lived at Palace House, so
called as a part of it was the original dwelling of King Charles II
when he frequented Newmarket, and they used to give a big dinner every
Wednesday night there during the Racing Season. Wednesday was a good
selection, for it was generally the day of the most important race of
the week, and there would be met, from the Prince downwards, all the
principal racing men present at the meeting, with the exception of
those who were busy entertaining parties of their own. From what I have
written it can be easily understood how pleasant a month October was
for the Equerry-in-Waiting, and in the old book of Caricatures, that
lay in the Equerries' Room at Marlborough House, and was later moved
on to Buckingham Palace, was to be seen a cutting from an illustrated
paper of a snapshot done of myself, seated on a shooting stool with
loader and dog in attendance, in the act of lighting a large cigar,
with the legend underneath it: "An Equerry at _work_."
Another month's duty that fell pretty frequently to my turn was
December which, commencing as it did on the Princess' birthday (1st
December) entailed a large Birthday Party at Sandringham. On these
occasions the guests consisted entirely of old friends, and year after
year the Princess' most intimate ones, such as Lord, and the late Lady
Ripon, Lord and Lady Gosford, and the "little Admiral," the late Sir
Harry Keppel, were amongst those who used to meet there. Occasionally
there would be a special dramatic performance, but there was always
Gottlieb's band to play in the evening, and for the men there was
excellent covert shooting during the day.
For several consecutive years, commencing with 1894, I was in
attendance on the Prince in the month of March and the beginning of
April at Cannes. He generally lived on board the _Britannia_, and, as
the Riviera Regattas were in full swing during those weeks, there was
plenty of yacht racing. The open-air life that could be lived at Cannes
was invaluable to him after the long winter that generally ended up
with part of January and practically the whole of February in London.
Cannes was a very pleasant place then, and there were endless dinner
parties and gaieties of all sorts, and the Society was eminently
cosmopolitan. To begin with, the whole Riviera bristled with Royalties.
Queen Victoria was for several years in succession at Cimiez in the
neighbourhood of Nice. The Emperor and Empress of Austria were more
than once at Cap Martin. The King of the Belgians was constantly in
his yacht at Ville-franche, and was beginning to build himself a villa
on that lovely promontory of Cap Juan that forms the eastern side of
the harbour. Russian Grand Dukes abounded. The Duke and Duchess of
Mecklenburg-Schwerin still continued to spend their winters at Cannes;
the Grand Duke Michael, then recently married to Countess Torby, had
settled himself at the Villa Kasbec, close to his sister's Villa
Venden. Countess Torby's father, Prince Nicholas of Nassau, with his
wife and daughter, Countess Merenberg and Countess Adda Merenberg, were
generally to be found at one of the numerous hotels in the town. Lord
Salisbury had also built himself La Bastide, overlooking the little
harbour of Beaulieu, where he usually spent a few weeks surrounded
by his family, and the President of the French Republic, President
Faure, who, since his official visit to St. Petersburg, had become
in his secret heart, as well as in his own person, "plus Royaliste
que le Roi," generally took an opportunity of paying a visit to Queen
Victoria. I had the honour of being introduced to Monsieur le President
on three separate occasions. Since his famous visit to Russia he had,
greatly to his own satisfaction, taken upon himself what he conceived
to be the true "Royal Manner," but unfortunately he did not possess
the other inherent appanage of Royalty, viz. the "Royal Memory." So
three times running, at comparatively short intervals, on presentation
I was most courteously greeted with the same formula, (no wonder
that I learnt it by heart!), "Commandant, enchanté de faire votre
connaissance; il y a longtemps que vous êtes auprès de son Altesse
Royale?"
In addition to these great personages that I have mentioned, three
charming old ladies,--who were irreverently nicknamed in Paris "La
Vieille Garde," the three great beauties of the latter days of the
Empire, the Princesse de Sagan, the Marquise de Gallifet and the
Comtesse de Pourtalès,--were always there, and a number of Frenchmen,
such as Vicomte Charles de Rochefoucault, Comte Boni de Castellane and
le Vicomte de Rochechouart; the latter was President of the French
Yacht Club, under the auspices of which we constantly raced. A good
many English people had permanent villas there, Lord and Lady Brougham,
for instance, in their Château Eléanore, famous over the whole Riviera
for its beautiful gardens and wonderful roses, and the late Mr. and
Mrs. Robert Vyner at Château Ste. Anne. Of Americans, too, there were
a good many "hardy annuals," the late Mr. Ogden Goelet and his family
passed several winters there, principally on board the yacht, _White
Lady_, whilst Mr. Anthony Drexel, in the _Margarita_, and the late Mr.
Gordon Bennett, spent more of their time at the Monte Carlo end of
the coast. When reigning Monarchs, to say nothing of the President
of the country itself, are foregathering on some forty miles or so
of sea coast, it is pretty obvious that men of importance of various
nationalities are apt to find it necessary to pass a few days in the
same atmosphere, and it was at Cannes that I first began to notice how
the Prince invariably made a point of making the personal acquaintance
of the many distinguished foreigners who happened to be out there, even
if only for a few days as birds of passage, and I was to see, later
on, when I was in attendance on him as the Sovereign, how invaluable
these personal acquaintances were. Half-an-hour's conversation with a
man is apt to give a greater insight into the character than reams of
correspondence, and this was especially the case with the Prince of
Wales, who was endowed either by nature or training, or more probably
by a mixture of both, with a memory that really was prodigious. As an
example of this memory, I recollect on my first journey with him to
Cannes, when he had got out at some wayside station to stroll about
during the five minutes' wait, some very obvious English gentleman
bowed, and evidently rather expected to be recognised. His bow was of
course returned, but on re-entering the railway carriage, the Prince
at once asked me if I knew who the man was. I had never seen him in
my life before, and so could be of no assistance. After the train had
started again, I could see that the Prince was trying to place the
individual, and suddenly, at the end of a quarter of an hour or so, he
triumphantly exclaimed: "I knew that I should get hold of his name. He
is a Mr. ----, and he was presented to me just fourteen years ago at a
function at which I was present." He then proceeded to state what the
function was, and where it had taken place. He had never set eyes on
the man in question since!
After leaving Cannes, a few days were generally spent in Paris on the
way home to see the newest plays, and England was reached about the
middle of April, and from that time I was off duty until the Cowes
season came round again in the month of August. In 1894 the _Vigilant_,
which had successfully defended the America Cup against Lord Dunraven's
_Valkyrie_, had arrived in the Roads. She had already met _Britannia_
in several races on the Clyde when the latter had been very successful,
and she was now to race with her at the headquarters of English Yacht
Racing. One of the best races I ever witnessed was that between these
two crack cutters and _Satanita_ during the Squadron Regatta week at
Cowes. The Prince was on board, and I am nearly sure that Prince George
was also there on that day, and so remarkable a race was it that I am
tempted to quote from what I wrote about it some years ago for one of
the Badminton series:--
". . . The yachts (_Britannia_, _Satanita_, and _Vigilant_)
were to start to the eastward and sail round the Isle of
Wight; and on this occasion _Britannia's_ Royal owner and
several of his friends were on board. _Satanita_ began well,
and was leading off Bembridge; but at the back of the island
the breeze became paltry, and _Satanita_ dropped back, while
_Britannia_ and _Vigilant_ were engaged in a battle-royal.
After getting round St. Catherine's and heading for the
Needles, _Britannia_ picked up a fresh breeze off the land,
and was leading by some lengths, with the _Vigilant_ tearing
up astern of her. _Vigilant_ gradually forged ahead, and
came up inshore of _Britannia_, on her weather. The obvious
course was to luff up and prevent her from forcing a passage;
but, unhappily, there was not sufficient depth of water, so
up went the _Britannia_ on a shoal, and in another moment
_Vigilant_ took the ground also. The latter had now all the
best of it, as by pulling up her centre-board she was able
to get off almost at once, and away she went for the Needles
with _Britannia_ left on the shoal. It was a good ten minutes
before _Britannia_ was floating again, and by that time
_Vigilant_ had gained a couple of miles. However, a yacht race
is never lost until it is won; and owing to the wind falling
light and a useful fluke or two, by the time the Needles were
passed the two yachts were neck and neck. The wind had fallen
light again, and what there was blew from the westward, so
it was a case of up helm and set spinnakers. All on board
were now full of hope, as running in light winds _Britannia_
was rather the faster of the two; so with a gentle westerly
breeze and a fair tide to take them along, the two rivals
headed for the mark-boat at Cowes. But hope had almost to be
abandoned when it was seen that instead of _Britannia_ having
the advantage, _Vigilant_ was streaking away as if she were
in tow, while _Britannia_ dropped farther and farther astern.
_Vigilant_ eventually won in hollow fashion by eight minutes.
"Mr. W. Jameson and Carter had their suspicions about the
cause of _Britannia's_ sluggishness, so next day she was sent
over to Southampton to be docked, and then the cause was
apparent. The result of her grounding was that a quantity of
her copper-plating instead of being polished and smooth, was
standing out in rolls, and, moreover, large pieces of rock
were actually sticking out from her lead keel. No wonder poor
_Britannia_ could not sail! On the other hand, _Vigilant_,
thanks to her centre-board keel, had got off the rocks quite
uninjured. However, the disappointment and damage done were
alike transitory, and two days later she was sailing as well
as ever again. At the end of the Solent Regattas, _Vigilant_
retired from the contest. She had sailed seventeen times
against the _Britannia_, and of those races _Britannia_
had won eleven outright. The rest of the season of 1894,
except in mixed races, resolved itself into matches between
_Satanita_ and _Britannia_, of which _Britannia_ won the
lion's share."
The year 1894 was an interesting one to me as regards horse-racing, for
a colt from Sandringham Stud, that good horse Florizel II, came to the
fore as a three-year-old. Being very fond of racing, I took a great
interest in the horses bred at Sandringham, as, having seen them in the
earliest infancy before they went to Richard Marsh to be trained, it
was a great pleasure to follow their subsequent careers. Florizel, who
was too backward to do any good as a two-year-old, began his winning
career as a three-year-old, at Ascot, when he won a couple of good
weight-for-age races, and, later on, at Goodwood and Newmarket he won
again.
But the year 1895 was more interesting still, both as regards
yachts and thoroughbreds. The _Ailsa_, a new cutter belonging to
Mr. Barclay Walker, came out to Cannes in the March of that year,
and made the yacht-racing there more strenuous than ever. She was
a worthy antagonist to _Britannia_, and on the Riviera, where the
wind is apt to be light, had rather the best of it, but later on in
England the _Britannia_ more than held her own. In the early summer
the Prince was again racing on the Thames, and pulled off a pretty
double event, for, on anchoring after a winning race against _Ailsa_,
a telegram was brought on board the _Britannia_ announcing the fact
that Florizel had won a nice race the same day. I think it was the
big handicap at Gatwick or Manchester. Ascot of the same year was
really a "Royal Ascot," for Florizel won the Gold Vase, and that
great horse, Persimmon, an own brother to Florizel, made his début as
a two-year-old, and won the most important two-year-old race of the
meeting, the Coventry Stakes, in a canter.
But life did not consist entirely of racing and yachting; on the whole
the greatest pleasure that I had in those days was, I think, the
Opera. Covent Garden was perhaps at its zenith about then. I can still
remember my first visit to that House when I was a little boy nine
years old. Patti was then at the height of her fame and beauty, and I
was lucky enough to hear her sing in _Dinorah_, with Graziani as the
Hoel. Meyerbeer is quite out of fashion now, but to a child, loving
music as I did, it was heavenly, and I know that I was so excited by
it that I never slept a wink the whole night through. Later, whenever
I had a chance on the rare occasions that I was in London, I used to
manage to go to Covent Garden, or Her Majesty's Opera House in the
Haymarket, which were both going at the same time, with Patti as the
bright particular star at Covent Garden, and Christine Nilsson at
Her Majesty's. Some of the castes were very remarkably good then. I
remember _Don Giovanni_ being splendidly given at Covent Garden, with
Patti, Tamberlik and Faure in the principal parts, and of course I
heard Nilsson as Margherita in _Faust_, perhaps her best rôle; and,
somewhat later, I heard that marvellous singer, Melba,--Dame Nellie
Melba, as she now is,--when she sang once or twice at Covent Garden
before she made her triumphal successes at Brussels and Paris. Having
become famous in Paris, of course she became indispensable to Covent
Garden, and, thank Heaven, her lovely voice is still to be heard there,
and I am proud to be able to count myself as one of her friends. But it
was only when I was fortunate enough to become a member of the omnibus
box that I developed into a confirmed habitué. There were plenty of
other distractions available, but I was faithful to my love of music
and was there most nights in the week, hearing delightful operas in the
greatest comfort. The omnibus box was designed for eight subscribers,
but the other amusements of London generally cut the nightly number of
occupants down to three or four, and sometimes indeed I was the only
one present, and to listen to good music in solitary comfort, seated
in a capacious arm-chair, is one of the pleasantest things I know.
Then, too, Covent Garden was fashionable in the best sense of that
detestable word. The boxes were extraordinarily becoming to pretty
women, and through the season they were filled, on most nights, with
all the beautiful women of the time, looking their best in their most
becoming dresses and diamonds, especially if there happened to be an
important party to follow. The late Sir Augustus Harris treated his
subscribers and his public extremely well; but I am inclined to think
that the Syndicate that succeeded him did even better. Before taking
leave of Sir Augustus Harris, a rather amusing incident indirectly
connected with him happened at one of the early Masked Balls that he
inaugurated at Covent Garden. An old friend of mine, the well-known
Member of Parliament, Colonel Claude Lowther, had a box on the Grand
Tier at one of these entertainments, and surreptitiously introduced
into it a wonderful dummy figure made up as Sir Augustus. When the
dancing was at its height, a sudden commotion brought the dancing to a
standstill, and there in the forefront of one of the boxes was to be
seen a terrific combat between Claude Lowther and Sir Augustus, Claude
evidently getting very much the best of it. The dancers in the parterre
were in agonies of suspense, as Sir Augustus was deservedly a great
popular favourite, and their suspense changed into horror when they
suddenly saw him taken bodily off his feet and flung out of the box on
to the dancing-floor. So realistic was it that the police rushed up
to the box, and before the joke could be explained Claude Lowther was
conducted over to Bow Street, which was exactly opposite. I never shall
forget the shout of laughter that went up when the dummy was discovered
on the floor none the worse for its fall.
But to turn to the musical side of Covent Garden, what a number of
fine artists I heard there during the many years I was a subscriber!
The brothers de Reszke, Maurel, Ternina, Van Rooy Plançon (who was,
perhaps, the best _basse chantant_ we ever heard), Caruso, Vandyck,
Sammarco, Mesdames Destinn and Edvina, and last, but by no means
least, Dame Nellie Melba. The four last-mentioned artists have all
been singing during the past two seasons. When the _Ring_, and Wagner
generally, was given, with Richter as conductor, and with some of his
Manchester musicians reinforcing the orchestra, without in the least
posing as an expert, the performances to my mind were infinitely better
all round than they were at Bayreuth. One very good reason being,
that the very astute Frau Wagner greatly preferred a cheap artist to
an expensive one; and even to my untutored taste Richter was a far
greater conductor than Siegfried Wagner, whose only recommendation, I
suppose, was that, being his mother's son, he was very cheap indeed!
As to individual performances, to my mind the two greatest artists of
the Operatic Stage during my time were two men, Chaliapine and Jean
de Reszke. The former, besides his magnificent voice and physique,
was not only a very great actor, but was, I think, in Russian Opera,
unsurpassable. I believe that he never sang at Covent Garden, but I
heard him at Monte Carlo and many times at Drury Lane. One of his
great rôles outside Russian Opera was Mephistofile, in Boito's opera
of that name. I can see him now as his Satanic Majesty, with all his
subjects crouched round him, dominating the stage in almost the exact
pose of Rodin's "Penseur." Jean de Reszke, who I knew very well, was
probably at his best and greatest in three very different parts. He was
incomparably the best Lohengrin I ever saw or heard on any stage, and
the same appreciation applied to his Tristan. But I believe that in his
secret heart and in the heyday of his career, his favourite part was
Romeo. _Roméo et Juliette_, as rendered by him and Melba, with his big
brother Édouard (as Frère Laurent) duly marrying them, some fifteen or
twenty years ago, used to fill Covent Garden to its very roof. It is
the fashion nowadays to decry Gounod's music as being too sugary, and
obvious, and all the rest of it; but, none the less, sung as it was by
those great artists it used to delight a great many of us.
About this time I was anxious to put off the date at which I would
inevitably be forced to retire from the Service, so I applied to the
Admiralty for employment during the yearly manœuvres that were about
to take place, and, the Prince having given his consent to my absence,
I was appointed to the _Theseus_, then a comparatively new class
of cruiser, for the duration of these exercises. The new system of
mobilisation which had recently come in, consisted in the necessary
officers and crews being marched bodily on board the ship, which, up to
that time, was lying at a home port with nobody on board but the Chief
Engineer, the Warrant Officers, a few stokers, and a small number of
marines, who were employed as caretakers. The scheme must have been
extremely well worked out, as can be shown by what actually took place
in practice.
At eight o'clock I and the rest of the newly appointed officers went
on board; the men were marched on board from the barracks or receiving
ship, with their bags and hammocks. Provisions were at once drawn, and
by noon the entire ship's company had been stationed as regards Fire,
Action, Boats and Watches, and had been piped to dinner. Chatham was
the parent port of the _Theseus_, and before nightfall, the Captain
having arrived on board during the day, the ship had been unberthed
and moved into the river, all ready to receive her ammunition the
next day. By the following evening we were anchored at the Nore and
reported ready for service. It is true that a ship commissioned in
this way could not really compare in efficiency with one that had been
on service for some time, but every day saw an improvement in general
smartness and discipline, and in a week's time a mobilised ship could,
if necessary, have fought a very respectable action.
It was now some nine years since I had served in a real man-of-war at
sea, and I remember being greatly impressed with the great improvement
that had taken place in the acquirements of the officers and men during
that period. The Captain, Charles Campbell, was an old friend, he
having been Flag-Lieutenant to his relative, Rear-Admiral F. Campbell,
in the old flying-squadron days; but, barring the Captain, the rest
of the officers were absolute strangers to me, as, indeed, I was to
them. I, however, found them to be, without exception, thoroughly
competent, and one and all gave the same loyal and devoted service to
me, that they could have given to a superior officer whom they had
known and served under for years. Before joining up with the rest of
the Fleet for manœuvring purposes the _Theseus_ was ordered to escort
a small squadron of torpedo-boats that had been ordered to Gibraltar.
These boats were towed in turn, as they were unable to keep the sea
under their own steam for more than a few hours. We had a good deal of
bad weather on our way out, which necessitated our going into Vigo,
and incidentally a good deal of trouble with our small craft; but
eventually we delivered them safely at their destination, and rejoined
the Fleet for a month's exercise.
The manœuvres having come to an end, the _Theseus_, after being
inspected by the Admiralty, was paid off into the First Class Reserve
again, and so ended my last term of service afloat. Having left the
_Britannia_ at the end of 1870, I had served at sea, on and off, for
some twenty-five years, and before taking leave of the Navy, so far as
these Reminiscences are concerned, I must write a few lines about the
state it was in in those days.
My service was performed during a period of comparative slackness, if
such a term can ever be applied to the Royal Navy. The fact is, it
was a time of profound peace. Since 1815 the Navy had seen no active
service on a large scale. In the middle period of the nineteenth
century there had been good work to do in the suppression of piracy and
the slave trade. There had been bombardments, such as those of Acre,
Algiers, Sveaborg, Sevastopol, Cronstadt and Alexandria,--more or less
futile, as all bombardments of land forts by ships must be. There had
even been a Naval action at Navarino. Small numbers of men had been
landed as Naval Brigades all over the world in all the great and small
wars that we waged in places as far apart as the Crimea, India and New
Zealand. Later on there had been a small modicum of active service to
be seen by a fortunate few in Egypt, and in South Africa during the
Zulu campaign. At the time of the South African War in 1889, there
were again small Naval Brigades landed, and when there was a danger of
European complications, in view of the number of troops that we had
to send to Africa, the sea route was efficiently, if very quietly,
patrolled. The fact was that during the greater part of the time that
I was serving there was no great competition possible. The German Navy
hardly existed. For some years after 1870, the French Navy had been
allowed to decrease. The Russians only used to build spasmodically.
It was only shortly before 1890 that the Admiralty had seriously to
consider their building programme against the possible combination of
the French and Russian Navies, which was then a formidable possibility:
and it was owing to that possibility mainly that the great improvement
in general efficiency that I noticed when I joined the _Theseus_
had taken place. From that time onwards the Navy has never looked
back. Successive Governments may not have supplied it with anything
approaching the necessary ships and stores, but the senior officers
of the Navy have trained the officers and men under them, and brought
them to that high state of efficiency and discipline which has been
so apparent to the whole world during the war which has just come to
a conclusion; and that same efficiency and devotion to duty has,--I
think as an old sailor,--been handsomely acknowledged, not only by
the country at large, but by those who are privileged to speak for
their country, from the Sovereign downwards. Personally, I am full of
pride at having, at one time, had the honour to belong to that noble
Service, and of having served with what is, perhaps, the best corps of
officers, with the best lot of men under them, in the world.
In my experience, the only time when Naval Officers are ever likely
to fail is when they are working at the Admiralty. The fact is that
constant service at sea is apt to narrow their outlook from a most
important point of view,--I mean that of a man of the world. Brought
up in a profession where a rigid discipline has to be, and is,
maintained, they are too apt to be rather obsessed by the First Lords
of the Admiralty, and the other functionaries with whom they are
brought into contact, and are inclined to treat them all with a good
deal too much subservience. It is rather instinctive for an officer
who has served all his time at sea to look, with a certain amount of
veneration, on his superior officers, and consequently to be inclined
to be overawed by a name that is placed in the Navy List as being,
after the Sovereign, the Head of the Navy. The post of First Lord of
the Admiralty was always a much coveted one, and on the whole it is
only just to say that it has been generally held by politicians of
considerable weight and experience. A certain amount of glamour of
sentiment is supposed to surround it, vividly enhanced by the temporary
possession of an extremely well-appointed yacht, on board of which the
female relations and friends of the various First Lords could take up
their abode in the summer, and cruise at their own sweet will, at the
expense of the long-suffering British tax-payer.
The year 1896 was a very important year's racing for those who were
interested in the Sandringham Stud, for it was in 1896 that the Prince
of Wales had his first really successful year on the Turf--that great
horse Persimmon accounting for the Derby and St. Leger and Jockey
Club Stakes at Newmarket, while Thais won the One Thousand Guineas. I
saw the Derby from what used to be known as the Paget Stand, of which
institution I was a member for many years, and for those who do not
know Epsom, it is as well to mention that the actual winning-post
touches the edge of that stand, and the horses are often within an
arm's length of the "Booth" (as it used to be called), when they passed
the post. It is exciting enough at any time to see the finish for the
Derby from that point of vantage, but when, as in 1896, there is a
desperate race between two really first-class horses, as were Persimmon
and St. Frusquin, and the race is eventually won by the Prince's horse
all out by a neck, the excitement really becomes indescribable. I
cannot truthfully say that I have never heard such cheering, for I am
glad to say that I was to hear it again when Minoru won the Derby in
1909. But Minoru was, after all, only a leased horse, whereas Persimmon
was a Sandringham-bred colt, and an own brother to Florizel, a winner
of good races. Anyhow, the enthusiasm of the public knew no bounds, and
the Prince's Derby achieved the greatest popular success that ever was
seen on a race-course.
In August of that year I was on duty as usual at Cowes, and about
the middle of the month I was ordered to attend the Princess on a
journey to the Continent. Her Royal Highness, with Miss Charlotte
Knollys who was Lady in attendance, went to visit her brother-in-law
and her sister, the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland, at their beautiful
Castle of Gmunden, which is not far from Ischl, and is surrounded
by magnificent scenery. Personally, never having seen that part of
Europe before, I was delighted with the beauty of the surroundings.
After a week's stay there the Princess went to Bayreuth, when her
party was completed by the appearance on the scene of the late Lady
Ripon, Miss Yznaga (the sister of the Duchess of Manchester) and the
late Sir Reginald Lister. The _Ring_ was being given as usual there,
and in some respects very beautifully given; but I still think, as I
have mentioned before, that the artists, as a lot, were very inferior
to those I heard a few years later at Covent Garden. None the less,
Bayreuth has a certain atmosphere of its own. Unlike London, there are
no distractions of any kind in that funny little town, so absolutely
undivided attention can be given to the music. After the Bayreuth week
was over, I attended the Princess to Copenhagen, visiting _en route_
Nuremberg and the Chiem See, where the palace,--that extraordinary
freak imitation of Versailles, built by the late King of Bavaria,--was
the objective of the visit. After spending one night at Copenhagen,
I travelled straight through to Wemmergill, where I was the guest
of a very old friend, Lord Westbury, for a week's grouse-driving.
Wemmergill, as all shooting men know, is one of the very best of
the Yorkshire and Westmoreland moors, and there, with a very cheery
shooting party, I had an excellent week's sport.
The year 1897 was principally remarkable for the Diamond Jubilee of
Queen Victoria, and the festivities that took place in London in
honour of the occasion. I had been in waiting in the spring at Cannes,
where the Prince had, as usual, taken up his residence on board the
_Britannia_, and at all the Riviera Regattas there was good sport in
matches against _Ailsa_, but the breezes had ruled light, and on the
whole the _Ailsa_ had rather the best of the numerous contests. It was
_Britannia's_ last year of racing. It was considered not worth while
to compete against the much newer _Meteor_, so the old boat took no
part in the English Regattas, except at Cowes, when, starting three
times, she won two races, one of which was a match round the Isle of
Wight for the German Emperor's Challenge Shield, in which contest she
defeated Mr. C. D. Rose's _Aurora_. Her wonderfully successful racing
career being thus terminated, she became permanently relegated into
the cruiser or handicap class, and was used for many years by her
owner for sailing about in the Solent with reduced canvas and a very
much reduced crew. The Jubilee year was another good year for the
Sandringham horses, as Persimmon won the Ascot Gold Cup in a canter,
and the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown. Moreover, two useful two-year-olds,
Little Dorrit and Mousme, won a couple of nice races each. '97 ended
Persimmon's career as a race-horse; he probably was at his very best
when he won the Ascot Cup, and he retired to a palatial loose box at
Sandringham, where he became the sire of over a hundred winners.
One of the marked features of the Diamond Jubilee Season in London was
the Fancy Dress Ball given at Devonshire House. All London Society was
there, headed by the Prince and Princess of Wales, and it certainly was
a very beautiful sight. Devonshire House lends itself extraordinarily
well to a great entertainment, for the reception rooms are very fine,
another feature being the marble staircase; so low are the steps and
so gradual the ascent, that it really is more like an inclined plane
than a staircase. It was an extraordinarily pretty spectacle for any
one standing on the big landing of the first floor, to see the endless
string of guests, in their various costumes, proceeding up to be
received by their hostess and host at the top of the stairs. A great
many of the dresses were very beautiful, and a record of them still
exists, for a number of the Duchess' friends presented her with an
album containing as many reproductions as could be collected of the
photographs and sketches that were taken of the various guests in their
costumes.
[Illustration: SEYMOUR FORTESCUE
As Moroni's Lawyer (National Gallery Collection), Devonshire House
Fancy Ball, 1897]
Later in the year, after Cowes, the Prince and Princess decided to go
to Bayreuth, and I was in attendance during the visit; but one visit
to Bayreuth is very like another, and as far as I was concerned the
only novelty was that _Parsifal_ was given as well as the _Ring_. In
those days _Parsifal_ never was given except at Bayreuth, but that
particular portion of the Wagner Legend has died out, and since then
it has been performed both in London and New York. It was the fashion
to rave about that opera, but I fancy now that it is no longer sacred
to Bayreuth; the public in general have discovered that, fine as it
is, the _Ring_ and _Tristan_ are a very great deal finer. So long as
_Parsifal_ could only be given at Bayreuth it was a great attraction to
the musical public, and brought a number of people there, who, but for
it, would probably not have taken that troublesome journey. This large
influx of visitors of course meant money, a commodity the value of
which was thoroughly understood and appreciated by "Frau Cosima," for
there was a good deal of the successful "Barnum" about that remarkable
old lady, now deceased. After the Bayreuth week, the Princess went on
to Copenhagen, and I attended the Prince to Kronberg to enable him to
pay a visit to his sister, the late Empress Frederick. The Empress
had certainly succeeded in building herself one of the finest modern
residences I ever saw, and Kronberg was full of the beautiful things
that she had collected, all moreover arranged in excellent taste. After
a short visit, the Prince went to Homburg, and I returned to England in
time for Doncaster Races.