* * * * *
[Illustration: SANDRINGHAM
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
_The Prince of Wales at Sandringham._
[_The Prince of Wales is, of course, precluded by his position from
granting interviews like private persons, but His Royal Highness
has been so good as to give us special permission to insert the
following extremely interesting article, which we are happy to be
able to present to our readers in place of the Illustrated
Interview for the present month. The next of the series of
Illustrated Interviews, by Mr. Harry How, will appear next month.
Sir Robert Rawlinson, the celebrated engineer, whose work saved so
many lives in the Crimea, has given Mr. How a most interesting
interview, with special illustrations._]
"Far from the busy haunt of man" might be fitly applied to Sandringham;
so quiet, and so secluded, is this favourite residence of the heir to
England's throne and his beautiful and universally esteemed wife.
Not an ancient castle with tower and moat, not a show place such as
would charm a merchant prince, but beautiful in its simplicity and
attractive in its homeliness; yet withal, clothed in the dignity
inseparable from its owners and its associations; in short, a happy
English home, inhabited by a typical English family.
How often have we seen them in the country lanes all squeezed into one
wagonette, looking like a jolly village squire and his family; or
watched the young Princes and Princesses careering round the park on
their favourite steeds, and listened to their merry laughing voices as
they emulated each other to come in winner!
[Illustration: H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES.
_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
When at Sandringham, State and its duties, society and its requirements,
are relegated to the dim past and shadowy future; and our Prince is a
country gentleman, deep in agriculture and the welfare of his tenantry;
and his wife and children pass their time in visiting the schools, the
poor, and the sick, working in their dairy, or at their sketching, art
and useful needle-work, etc.
Fortunately, the estate is above seven miles from King's Lynn, its
nearest town, so that the family are not subjected to the prying gaze of
the curious. They have not, however, the inconvenience of this long
drive from the railway station, as there is one at Wolferton, a little
village of about forty houses, on the estate, and between two and three
miles from the "House."
In 1883 the Prince added a suite of waiting-rooms to the building
already there: the addition consisting of a large entrance-hall,
approached by a covered carriage way, with rooms on either side for the
Prince and Princess. These rooms are handsomely and tastefully
furnished, and are used not only as waiting-rooms, but occasionally for
luncheon, when the Prince and his guests are shooting in the vicinity of
Wolferton. The station lies in a charming valley, and emerging from its
grounds, you have before you a picturesque drive along a well gravelled
road, bordered with velvety turf, and backed with fir, laurel, pine and
gorse.
Rabbits in hundreds are popping hither and thither, pheasants are flying
over your head, squirrels are scampering up and down trees, there are
sounds of many feathery songsters in the branches: while if you pause
awhile, you may catch the distant murmur of the sea--certainly you can
feel its breezes; and you seem to get the beauty of the Highlands, the
grandeur of the sea, and the very pick of English scenery, all in one
extensive panorama. The view from the heights is beyond description: an
uninterrupted outlook over the North Sea, and a general survey of such
wide range, that on clear days the steeple or tower of Boston church
(familiarly known as "Boston Stump") can be plainly seen.
Proceeding on your way, you pass the park boundary wall, the residence
of the comptroller, the rectory, the little church of St. Mary
Magdalene, with its flag waving in the breeze denoting the family are in
residence--take a sudden curve in the road, and find yourself in front
of the Norwich gates, admitting to the principal entrance. A solitary
policeman is here on guard, but he knows his business, and knows every
member of the household by sight; and though his duty consists in merely
opening and shutting the gates, you may be quite sure he will not open
to the wrong one.
These gates are worthy of more than a passing glance, for they are a
veritable masterpiece of design and mechanism. They were, in fact, one
of the features of the 1862 Exhibition, and were afterwards presented to
the Prince by the County of Norwich. On the top is the golden crown,
supported by the Prince's feathers. Underneath, held by bronzed
griffins, are heraldic shields representing the various titles of the
Prince, while the remainder is composed of flowers, sprays, and creeping
vines. They are connected with the palisading by rose, shamrock and
thistle. The maker was Barnard, of Norwich.
[Illustration: THE MAIN ENTRANCE
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
Although this is the chief entrance, it is necessary to proceed up the
avenue and diverge to the left, before the front of the building comes
into view; then it will be seen to be of modernized Elizabethan
architecture; exterior, red brick, with Ketton-stone dressing. Over the
door is a carved inscription as follows: "This house was built by Albert
Edward Prince of Wales and Alexandra his wife, in the year of Our Lord,
1870." As a matter of fact, the estate had been purchased nine years
previous to that date, for a sum of L220,000, but the Old Manor House
was in such a condition that, after vainly trying to patch up and add on
to, it was found desirable to pull it all down, and build an entirely
new residence. Not only did the mansion need re-building, but also the
cottages of the tenants and labourers: and much to the honour of the
Prince and Princess, these cottages were their first care, and were all
re-built and several new ones erected before they took possession of
their own home.
An invitation to Sandringham is an honour which few would lightly
regard: and if it is your first visit you are in a flutter of
anticipation and expectation, making it somewhat difficult to preserve
the calm exterior that society demands of you. Now there are two
distinct sets invited there; one from Friday to Monday, and one from
Monday or Tuesday to Friday; the former generally including a bishop,
dean, or canon for the Sunday service, two or three eminent statesmen,
and a sprinkling of musical, literary, and artistic celebrities. To this
list I will suppose you to belong.
You have found carriages and baggage vans awaiting what is known as the
"Royal train"--a special run just when the Prince is in residence--and
you and your fellow-visitors have driven up to the principal entrance.
There you alight, and are ushered by the footmen into a spacious hall or
saloon, where you are received with the distinguished grace and courtesy
for which your Royal host and hostess are so justly celebrated.
[Illustration: THE SALOON
_From A Photo. By Bedford Lemere._]
You have only time for a rapid glance at the massive oak carving and
valuable paintings (chief of which is one portraying the family at
afternoon tea, by Zichy) before you find yourself being conducted to the
handsome suite of apartments you will occupy during your visit. A cup of
tea and some light refreshment, and the dinner-hour being 7.30 it is
time to prepare. If you have not been here before, let me give you a
word of warning, or you will commit the dreadful sin of unpunctuality.
Every clock on the place, from the loud-voiced one over the stables to
the tiniest of continental masterpieces, is kept half an hour fast. The
ringing-out of the hour thirty minutes before you expect it is startling
in the extreme; and your maid or man has a bad time of it until you
discover the discrepancy.
At last, however, you are ready, and in due time find yourself amidst
the company in the grand dining saloon, where dinner is served in state,
although not with the frigid formality one is inclined to expect. A
certain degree of nervousness _must_ be felt by all on the first
occasion they dine with Royalty; but your host and hostess are so
extremely affable, and have such a happy gift of putting people at their
ease, that you insensibly forget their august position, and find
yourself chatting with comfort and enjoyment. You will notice the
splendid proportions of this saloon, and the priceless Spanish tapestry
with which it is hung--this was the gift of the King of Spain to the
Prince. There is also a magnificent display of plate, much of it
presentation. The tables are oblong, the Prince and Princess facing each
other at the centre; the floor--as are most of them--is of polished oak,
this one being freely scattered with costly Turkish rugs. I may here
mention that adjoining this saloon is a spacious ante-room, containing a
fine collection of tigers' skins, elephants' tusks, etc.: a good record
of the travels of His Royal Highness, of much interest to travellers and
sportsmen.
[Illustration: THE DINING-ROOM, WITH TABLE SET FOR LUNCHEON.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
When you presently adjourn to the drawing-rooms--of which there are a
suite of small ones in addition to the large one--you will find there is
no lack of entertainment and amusement; such, indeed, as must suit the
most varied tastes. First, however, we will take some note of the rooms
themselves. These (the drawing-rooms) are all connected with the
entrance-hall by a broad corridor, which is ornamented with pieces of
armour, ancient china, stuffed birds, etc.: they face the lakes, and are
on the western or front of the building, opening on to the terrace.
The large drawing-room is of beautiful construction, fitted with windows
reaching from ceiling to floor. The walls are panelled with pink and
blue, with mouldings of gold and cream. The furniture is upholstered in
pale blue, with threads of deep crimson and gold; the hangings are of
rich chenille; the floor of polished oak, with rich Indian rugs
distributed here and there. A plentiful scattering of music and books
gives it a home-like appearance, while hand embroidery, sketches,
painting on china, and feather screens show the variety of talent and
skill of the ladies of the family. In the very centre of the room is a
large piece of rockwork, with a tasteful arrangement (carried out under
the care of the Princess herself) of choice ferns and beautiful roses in
bloom, while rising out of the midst is a marble figure of Venus. The
principal conservatory opens from this room. It is rich in palms and
ferns, and contains a monument of art to Madame Jerichau, the
sculptress, in the shape of a group of bathing girls.
Meanwhile, whatever amusement is to be the order has by this time
commenced: perhaps it is music--the ladies of the family are all good
musicians--perhaps it is _tableaux vivants_, or possibly a carpet dance.
If your tastes do not lie in these directions, or after you have enjoyed
them for a sufficient time, you have the choice of using the
billiard-room, the American bowling alley, or the smoking-rooms. The
billiard-room will interest you vastly: it is literally lined with arms
of all descriptions. The tables, of course, are of the best.
[Illustration: THE DINING-ROOM, WITH TABLE SET FOR DINNER.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
[Illustration: WITHDRAWING-ROOM.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
Another room you may perhaps find your way to to-night is the "Serapis"
room; it is half library and half smoking-room; in it you will see the
entire fittings of the cabin the Prince occupied on his journey to
India, in the vessel of the above name. One thing you may rest assured
of--that neither on this evening nor at any other time while at
Sandringham will you know a dull moment.
[Illustration: THE CORRIDOR.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
In the morning you will find breakfast served at nine o'clock in the
dining saloon. As, however, the Prince and Princess generally take
theirs in their private apartments, there is no formality, and you do
not feel bound to the punctuality imperative when you meet their Royal
Highnesses.
Perhaps you have letters to write; and I may as well here remark that
the postal arrangements are first-rate. There is a post-office _inside_
the house, which is also a money order office. Three deliveries per day
come in that way, while mounted men meet the trains at Wolferton
Station. There is also telegraphic communication with Central London,
King's Lynn, and Marlborough House; and telephone to Wolferton Station,
the stud farm, agents, bailiff, etc.
Before proceeding to outdoor sights--which will not be possible very
early, as your host has a multiplicity of business to get through--you
had better take the opportunity of seeing some of the rare and beautiful
treasures indoors. Of course, all are aware of the extensive travels of
the Prince in many countries, and will, therefore, expect to find many
mementos of the same in his home; but I think few are prepared to find
them so numerous and so valuable. Not only does one see them here and
there in various directions, but one room of considerable dimensions is
set apart altogether for them, and a day could be profitably spent in
their inspection. It is not only their costliness and their beauty, but
the associations which make them of so much interest. This one was
presented by the King of this place; this one by Prince So-and-so; this
by such a town, and this by such an order or society, until the vision
is quite dazzled with beauty.
Perhaps as a strong contrast you may get a peep at the Prince's
morning-room, a room plainly and usefully fitted and furnished in light
oak. There you will see such a batch of correspondence that you will be
inclined to wonder when it will be got through, but the Prince is a
capital business man, and nothing is lost sight of.
The libraries must not be overlooked: there are quite a suite of them,
well stocked with English and French literature more particularly. A
large number will be noticed as presentation volumes, in handsome and
unique bindings. One of these rooms also contains many mementos of
travel and sport in various climes.
[Illustration: THE CONSERVATORY.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
Two additional stories have within the last few weeks been completed
over the bowling alley and billiard-room, making a total of about
eighteen apartments, henceforth to be known as "The Bachelors' Wing."
[Illustration: THE BILLIARD SALOON
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
For some years the large hall at the entrance was made to do duty for a
ball-room, and no mean one either; but the Prince thinking it not quite
so commodious as he would wish, he, some nine years ago, had a new and
larger one built. This, and one or two other rooms, really constitute a
new wing. The turret of this wing has just been raised, in order to
place therein a clock purchased by the local tradesmen as a memorial to
the late Duke of Clarence and Avondale. The ball-room is of immense size
and lofty construction, with fine bay windows at either end, and large
alcoves on either side, one containing a magnificent fire-place, and the
other windows. The walls are artistic triumphs, being finely painted in
delicate colours, and on them arranged a fine collection of Indian
trophies. The floor is of oak, and kept in such a condition of polish as
to be a pitfall and snare to any dancer not in constant practice. More
than one or two couples have been known to suddenly subside, even in the
most select of the select circles there assembled.
[Illustration: THE BOWLING ALLEY.
_From a Photo. by Beford Lemere._]
If during your visit one of the annual balls should take place, you are
most fortunate. There are three of such--the "County," the "Tenants',"
and the "Servants'," the first, of course, bringing the _elite_; but
the two latter sometimes presenting a curious mixture. The tenants, I
may say, are allowed to introduce a limited number of friends, a
privilege highly valued, and much sought after by the most remote
acquaintance of each and every tenant on the estate. A most wonderful
display of colours distinguishes these Norfolkites, bright of hue, too,
and more often than not dames of fifty got up in the style of damsels of
eighteen.
[Illustration: THE PRINCE'S BUSINESS ROOM.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
[Illustration: THE LIBRARY.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
And what appetites these yeomen and cattle-dealers have got, to be sure!
And if you had a few tramps across the "Broads" you would not wonder at
it, for hunger is soon the predominant feeling. The dancing, too, is a
study; country dances, reels, and jigs following each other in such
quick succession, that the band in the gallery at the far end do not
have any too easy a time of it. Through everything, the same kindly
interest is displayed by the Royal host and hostess; their interest
never wanes, and their courtesy never flags, but everyone is noticed,
and made to feel as much at their ease as it is possible for them to be.
Perhaps the servants' ball is as pretty a sight as one could see in the
room--the toilettes of the Royal Family and their visitors, the rich
state liveries of the footmen, the scattering of Highland costumes, the
green and buff of the gamekeepers, and the caps of the maidservants, all
blending into an ever-moving kaleidoscope, picturesque in the extreme.
Few that are familiar with Sandringham can enter this room without
thinking of the occasion when the proud and loving mother entered,
leaning on the arm of her eldest boy, on the day he attained his
majority. The fairest and bravest of all England were there assembled to
do him honour; and from all parts of the world "happy returns" and long
life were wished for he whom all regarded as their future King. Some of
the associations of this home must of necessity be saddening, but on the
other hand, much must remind of many little acts of kindness and loving
attentions paid; and were this a biography of the late Prince, many
little anecdotes of his great thoughtfulness for those around him might
be told; but his monument will be in the memories of all who knew him.
To return, however, to description. After the Prince has dispatched his
necessary business, he generally takes his visitors round to view the
park, gardens, model farm, stables, kennels, or whatever His Royal
Highness thinks may interest them most. If you are an enthusiast in
farming, you will be immensely interested in the 600 acres of land
farmed on scientific principles. Every known improvement in machinery,
etc., is introduced, with results of as near perfection as possible in
crops. The Prince looks a genuine farmer, as he tramps through the
fields in true Norfolk garb of tweed and gaiters; and it does not
require much attention to find from his conversation that he quite
understands what he is talking about; so it behoves one to rub up his
weak points in this direction.
In the stables all are disposed to linger; every one of (I think) sixty
stalls being inhabited by first-rate steeds, many of them good racers.
The prettiest sight of all is the Princess's stable--a smaller one
adjoining; this is tiled white and green, with stalls ornamented in
silver. Here are some charming ponies driven by Her Royal Highness, and
her favourite mare Vera. On this mare, accompanied by her children on
their mounts, the Princess may often be met in the lanes around
Sandringham, occasionally also driving in a little pony carriage, and in
both cases almost unattended.
[Illustration: THE BALL-ROOM.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
The kennels come next in order: they contain dogs of every breed from
all parts of the land. The younger members of the family especially have
many pets--cats, dogs, and birds; indeed, one of the first things you
notice on your arrival is a parrot in the entrance saloon, that
invariably greets you with calling for "three cheers for the Queen!"
It is now nearly luncheon time (1.30), and here you all meet again; some
of the ladies perhaps having been honoured the first part of the day by
spending some time with the Princess. Generally speaking, but not
always, their Royal Highnesses join the party for lunch; but in any
case, after that meal, forces are united, and the company entire start
off, sometimes on foot, commencing with gardens, sometimes in carriages
for a more distant inspection. To-day it is fine, and so we commence
with emerging on to the west terrace, and into the western gardens.
The terraces are very handsome, and many of the rooms open on to them
from French windows or conservatories. First you will notice a Chinese
joss-house or temple, made of costly metal, guarded on either side by
two huge granite lions from Japan, all of them the gifts to the Prince
of Admiral Keppel.
The gardens are tastefully and artistically laid out, with such a
wildness, yet with such a wealth of shrubs and pines, aided by
artificial rockwork, a cave, and a rushing cascade, that one might well
imagine one was in another country.
The Alpine gardens contain flowers and ferns of the choicest; and you
presently emerge on the shores of a lake of considerable size. Here
boating in the summer and skating in the winter may be indulged in, the
latter, especially by torchlight, being a most attractive sight. The
illuminations in the trees around, the flaring torches, the lights fixed
to the chairs as they glide about like will o' the wisps, and the
villagers (who are always invited) standing around, make up a picture
not easily forgotten. This lake has recently been supplemented by the
excavation of another in the centre of the park, a running stream
connecting the two.
Chief, or almost chief, of the Sandringham outdoor sights is a famous
avenue of trees. At some future time this avenue will be of even more
interest than it is now, and will become, in fact, historical; for every
tree there has been planted by some personage of note. On each one you
will notice a neat label, stating name of planter and date of planting,
chief of the names being Queen Victoria and the Empress Frederick.
[Illustration: H.R.H. THE PRINCESS OF WALES.
_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
The model dairy is a picture; but here again the preference must be
given to that owned by the Princess. It is a Swiss cottage, containing
five rooms, one of the five being a very pretty tea-room, and here Her
Royal Highness sometimes favours her friends with the "cup that cheers,"
often, too, cutting bread and butter and cake with her own fair hands.
Moreover, the same hands have often made the butter that is used--as
each of the ladies of the family is skilled in dairy management, and
capable of turning out a good honest pat of creamy Norfolk. Merry times
they have had in this cottage, arrayed in apron and sleeves, doing the
real _work_, not merely giving directions.
You would not be in any of the villages long before you saw some of the
children attending some one of the various schools, clad in their
scarlet and Royal blue; they look very comfortable and picturesque.
There is a first-rate technical school, in addition to the ordinary ones
of each village. The first was founded by the Princess herself, and in
each of them Her Royal Highness and her children take a deep interest;
often visiting them, taking classes, and asking questions. These
schools, then, are shown you this afternoon; and, as a matter of course,
you proceed from there to the Working Men's Club--one of which is
established in each village. These are open to men above the age of
fourteen.[A] Billiards, bagatelle, draughts, etc., are provided, and
there is a good stock of newspapers and books. Refreshments may be
obtained of good quality, and for a small outlay; and everything is done
that can be done to make the men comfortable. Does it keep them from the
public-house? you ask. Well--_there is not such a thing known as a
public-house on the Prince's estate_. A man can get his glass of ale at
the club--good in quality and low in figure--but he cannot get enough to
send him home the worse for coming; so drunkenness is unknown in the
villages.
[A] Small men; but is an actual extract from the printed rules
hanging in the clubs.
On Sunday morning everybody goes to the little church of St. Mary
Magdalene, in the park. The Prince and Princess set the example by their
regular and punctual attendance--the Princess and ladies generally
driving, the Prince and gentlemen walking by private footway. A quiet,
peaceful spot it is, entered by a lych-gate and surrounded by a small
"God's acre." If you are wise, you have come early enough to look round.
Simplicity is stamped on everything, there not being a single imposing
monument there. Several stones have been erected by the Prince in memory
of faithful servants of the household, and there are also several placed
there by the former proprietors of the estate. To what you are most
attracted is the resting-place of the third Royal son. No costly
sepulchre, but a simple grassy mound, surrounded by gilt iron railings
with a plain headstone, recording the name and date of birth and death
of the infant Prince, and the words "Suffer little children to come unto
Me" added.
The church itself is of ancient date, and has been twice restored and
enlarged by the Prince. It has a font of early times, and some
half-dozen stained glass windows. The Prince has caused several
monuments, busts, etc., to be placed there, conspicuous being busts to
the late Princess Alice and the Emperor Frederick, a medallion to the
late Duke of Albany, a stained glass window to the infant Prince, and
monuments to the Revs. W. L. Onslow and G. Browne. The most noticeable
of anything there, however, is a very handsome brass lectern, placed by
the Princess as a thank-offering for the recovery of the Prince from his
dangerous illness of typhoid fever. The event is within the memory of
most of us, and needs only a brief notice to recall the national anxiety
that was displayed on the occasion. The lectern bears the following
inscription: "To the glory of God. A thank-offering for His mercy, 14th
December, 1871. 'When I was in trouble, I called upon the Lord, and He
heard me.'"
The space for worshippers is limited, and is generally quite filled by
the household. The Royal Family occupy carved oak seats in the nave. The
organ is a very fine one, particularly sweet in tone, and is situated in
the rear of the building; it is presided over by a very able musician,
who is also responsible for the choir--this consisting of school
children, grooms, gardeners, etc. The singing is really good.
[Illustration: THE PRINCESS OF WALES' BOUDOIR.
_From a Photo. by Bedford Lemere._]
I have heard down there of a former organist, who was _not_ a great
musician, and, in fact, was more at home in the village shop, of which
he was proprietor. Sunday after Sunday he made the most awful mistakes,
and, in consequence, was continually warned of his probable dismissal.
The Princess, with her invariable kindness, had been the cause of his
staying so long as he had; but one Sunday the climax was reached and the
Royal patience fairly exhausted. Mr. Gladstone (then in office) was on a
visit, and his solemn, grim countenance as he stood in the church quite
frightened the poor man, inasmuch as he lost his head completely. The
organ left off in the chants, persisted in playing in the prayers, and
altogether acted in such an erratic manner, that it was no wonder that
anger was depicted on one countenance, sorrow on another, and amusement
on a few of the more youthful ones! The old institution had to give way
to a new, however, and a repetition of such performances was thus
avoided.
[Illustration: H.R.H. PRINCESS VICTORIA AND H.R.H. PRINCESS MAUD OF
WALES.
_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
The Sunday afternoon is quietly spent in the house or grounds; then in
the evening some may, perhaps, drive to West Newton or Wolferton
Church--the Prince, Princess and family often do--while others may
prefer to stay in for music or reading.
On your way to either place you cannot but notice the prosperous look of
the villages and villagers, pointing unmistakably to the certainty of a
good landlord. Had you longer time here, you would hear many an anecdote
of the kindness and generosity of the Prince and the goodness of the
Princess and her daughters. Hardly a cottager but has some anecdote to
tell you of the family: how the Princess visits the sick and afflicted,
talking to them, reading to them, and helping them in their needs. Every
child seems to know and to love the "beautiful lady," and every man and
woman seems almost to worship her; and if you heard the anecdotes I have
heard there, you would not wonder at it. "Think o' they R'yal
Highnesses"--they would say--"making o' things wi' their own 'ands fer
sich as us! Did yew ever heerd tell o' sich, says I; none o' yer frames
and frimmirks (airs and graces) wi' they." And then they would go on
with their "says I" and "says she," and tell you all about summer flower
shows for villagers, treats on Royal birthdays, invitations to see
sights in the park, how the family have given a wedding present to this
one, what they have brought or sent the other one when ill; and so on,
and so on, until you come to think what a pity it is a few land-owners,
with their wives and families, cannot come here for the lessons so many
need, and see how well this family interpret the words: "Am I my
brother's keeper?"
[Illustration: THE DUKE OF YORK.
_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
Sandringham has saddening associations for its owners, but "Joy cometh
in the morning," and as we take our farewell of this favourite residence
of the Prince and Princess, we will wish them a bright future and
continuance of good health to enjoy their Norfolk home.
_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver._