The Kennels, Sandringham
Photograph by T. Fall, Baker Street, W.
The King and Queen are both keen dog-fanciers, and they possess some of the very finest animals in the world. They both exhibit at the leading shows, and Her Majesty is the Patron of the Ladies’ Kennel Association.
This chapter must not be concluded without reference to a curious little book, published some years ago by one who must be regarded as absolutely unique—namely, an aggrieved tenant at Sandringham. This lady had differences with the agent of the estate, and to revenge herself for her supposed grievances she wrote this obviously prejudiced account of her late landlord at his country home.
The following extracts from the book written by this hostile witness are therefore significant indeed of the tenour of our King’s life in Norfolk:—
“Whenever I went (to Sandringham) I never failed to spend a pleasant evening, and received more courtesy from my illustrious host and hostess than from any house I ever was in. The Prince is noted for his powers of entertainment and exertion to make every one enjoy themselves. When a ‘house-party’ is expected he superintends the arrangements and remembers their particular tastes and pursuits. A gouty squire who once grumbled at having to go, was completely mollified at finding a room prepared for him on the ground floor, the Prince thinking he would prefer it. The effect of a visit to Sandringham upon a certain order of Radicals, who are treated with the greatest deference, is perfectly astounding. It acts as a patent conjuring machine—a Republican stuffed in at one end, a Courtier squeezed out at the other.
“The Sandringham festivities were so arranged that all classes could share in them; and what with County, farmers’, and servants’ balls, labourers’ dinners, visits to country houses, meets of the hounds, and other sociabilities, everybody from far and near had the opportunity of making acquaintance with their Royal Highnesses.”
Of the servants’ parties at Sandringham she says:—
“The house party, equerries, ladies-in-waiting, and all invited from the neighbourhood, were ordered to join in, no shirking or sitting out allowed, and when the sides had been made up, the Prince and Princess set off with their partners, round and round, down the middle and up again, and so on to the end, the Prince the jolliest of the jolly and the life of the party, as he is wherever he goes. I never saw such amazing vitality. His own Master of the Ceremonies, signalling and sending messages to the band, arranging every dance, and when to begin and when to leave off, noticing the smallest mistake in the figures, and putting the people in their places. In the ‘Triumph,’ which is such an exhausting dance, he looked as if he could have gone on all night and into the middle of next week without stopping, and I really believe he could.… Almost before one dance was ended the Prince started another, and suddenly the Scotch Pipers would screech out and the Prince would fold his arms and fling himself into a Highland fling, and so on fast and furious until far into the small hours of the morning.”