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[201] between them, but on the whole the Britannia was very slightly the better boat of the two.  
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[202] 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[203] 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[204] 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[205] 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[206] 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[207] 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[208] 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[209] 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 Chateau Eléanore, famous over the whole Riviera for its beautiful gardens and wonderful roses, and the late Mr. and Mrs. Robert Vyner at Chateau 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[210] 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[211] 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[212] 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 out[213]right. 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. ............