The impression that most people have regarding the life of kings and queens is that of everything in a costly and magnificent style. One of the admirable things about the life of King Edward VII at Sandringham Palace was its simplicity.
Court formality was laid aside and the king’s guests enjoyed themselves without restraint. As host and hostess King Edward and Queen Alexandra were notably hospitable, and the person who failed to enjoy himself at the royal table was indeed an unfortunate being. Many were the tales told about the king’s tact, as displayed toward his guests, not the least of which was one concerning the famous English sculptor, Alfred Gilbert. Gilbert received an invitation to Sandringham, and his servant, in the excitement of packing, omitted to put a pair of black shoes into his bag. When the sculptor arrived at the king’s residence he discovered, much to his dismay, that he must appear in tan shoes if he wished to attend dinner. His embarrassment was all the more keen because he was aware that the king disliked tan footgear. However, there was nothing for him to do but make the best of matters, and on the shoes went. In some mysterious manner word of Gilbert’s predicament reached the king’s ears, and when Edward appeared to greet his guest the latter was surprized to note that his host also wore tan shoes.
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At Bannockburn Lord Randolph Murray was being sorely prest by a large body of cavalry. Sir James Douglas got leave from Bruce to go to his aid, but just as he came up he found the English in disorder, and many horses galloping away with empty saddles. “Halt!” he cried to his men; “These brave men have already repulsed the enemy; let us not diminish their glory by seeking to share it.”—William Moodie.
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Colonel Nicholas Smith, in “Grant the Man of Mystery,” says:
Grant is often called “The Silent Man.” While he wrote with fluency and with great rapidity, it was difficult for him to express himself extemporaneously until after his Presidential career, and many interesting stories are told of his attempts to talk. A large body of ministers once called upon him and made a long address, to which he was compelled to reply. After a sentence or two, Mr. Fish noticed that his voice faltered, and fearing that he might be at a loss what to say, the secretary, standing next to him, caused a diversion by beginning to cough violently. The President afterward said to Mr. Fish, “How fortunate it was for me that you had that cough, as I had felt my knees begin to shake. I do not think that I could have spoken another word.”
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