At that time I was much occupied by the readings of Charles Dickens's Christmas Carol, which I gave on behalf of hospitals. A great stimulus to their success was one of the many acts of kindness which I have received from the then Prince of Wales. Soon after I started them I had the good fortune to meet the Prince, by the invitation of the late Lord Burnham, at Hall Barn, where he was staying for a shoot extending over several days. The Prince spoke to me warmly about the "Carol," and asked if I would like to give the reading at Sandringham at the coming Christmas-time, when the house would be full of guests. Needless to say, I could have wished for no greater help to any project that I had a part in.
At Sandringham
On my arrival at Sandringham I was met by Sir Dighton Probyn. We were soon joined by my host, who took a personal interest in the preparations for my evening's work. In the drawing-room, before dinner, I found among the "house-party" two old friends, Sir Charles du Plat and Sir Charles Hall. On entering, the Princess of Wales paused to look round the room; she then left the Prince's arm, advanced towards me, and most graciously welcomed me. At the table, also, were the present King and Queen. The audience for my reading was completed by invitations given to many friends and neighbours, the household, the tenants, and the servants—the ballroom being full. The reading was accompanied by laughter and applause, a special tribute being paid to my impromptu description of the memorable turkey as "real Norfolk." In the billiard-room, later in the evening, I had suitable opportunity to show the Prince the cigar-case which was given to me by Queen Victoria at Balmoral, saying that it was the first occasion on which I had carried it. The Prince at once replied, suiting the action to the word, "Perhaps you would like me to be the first to take a cigar from it?"
When in 1897 the late Marquess of Salisbury submitted to Queen Victoria that the honour of Knighthood should be conferred upon me, none of the many congratulations that my wife and I received were more charmingly or warmly expressed than those of the Prince of Wales.
It was, however, at Marienbad, where King Edward went annually to take the waters, that he might be seen at his friendliest, free from the cares of his high estate and able, as the "Duke of Lancaster," to relax something of Royal ceremony; but, however unbending, the King had great unconscious dignity. Happy luncheons and pleasant dinners have I enjoyed in his company there, charmed by a perfect host, put entirely at ease by his geniality and constantly impressed by his wide knowledge and deep interest in the affairs of the world. Among fellow guests I may mention Pinero, Tree, and Hawtrey.
The one exception to "Marienbad dress" was when the King gave a dinner on the fête-day of Francis Joseph, the old Emperor; then the card bore the words, "Evening dress and decorations." I was honoured with an invitation, and that year had no tail-coat with me. A soldier friend said if his decorations, for which he had telegraphed, did not arrive in time he would lend me his "tails." After luncheon, however, I bolted up to the golf-course, hunted down Sir Edward Goschen's attaché, a charming tall fellow, and, knowing he would have to wear diplomatic uniform at the dinner, asked if he would lend me his ordinary evening coat. On the night of the ceremony the guests were assembled waiting for the King, who went the round of the half-circle with a happy word in several languages to all. His humorous salutation to me was, "A very becoming coat, Bancroft."
I recall an amusing incident told me by my neighbour at table, who was High Sheriff of his county. At a ceremony which the King had journeyed from London to perform, a provincial Mayor, after being himself presented, nervously said: "May I present Your Majesty to the Mayoress?" The King immediately replied: "Certainly; the Mayoress is generally presented to me, so it will be a novelty."
His love of precision
I have referred to King Edward's well-known love of exactitude in matters of etiquette and ceremony, and I remember a curious instance of this quality. On one of the occasions when I was His Majesty's guest, a discussion arose about the period of some incident that had been mentioned in the course of conversation; one of the guests said that it took place early in the reign of Queen Victoria.