Looking Back
9781465629661
108 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
The principal excuse for this attempt to bring the reminiscences of a very unimportant member of the community to the notice of the public is that, owing to the series of accidents which make up what is commonly called life, I can claim to have had rather exceptional opportunities as a spectator from a great many points of view. Commencing my career as I did on board a man-of-war, I have since lived at Court, in Society, in Clubs, both Bohemian and Social, and during the seventeen years that I was on the personal staff of the late King Edward VII, I was necessarily brought into contact with a great number of persons of all sorts and all nations, to say nothing of seeing something of the daily work of a great monarch. As an example of the many points of view, taking a few of the more salient ones, with complete disregard for dates, I may instance that it has been my good fortune to witness the work of the British Army in the Field in more than one campaign; I was in attendance on the late King in Paris when he was engaged in what is possibly the greatest achievement of his life,—namely, laying the first stone of our entente with France, and thereby probably saving Europe from the domination of the Teuton; I have seen his son, our present King George, when, as a young naval lieutenant, he was serving his country in that subordinate capacity with the same earnestness and devotion to duty that he has shown in his present exalted position; and, from another side, I have seen him on the polo ground, taking his part in the Inter-ship and Regimental Polo Matches at Malta, and exhibiting that same working together of hand and eye that has made him one of the best game shots in the kingdom. I have ridden many miles of messages for that gallant old Field-Marshal, the late Earl Roberts, as his Naval Aide-de-Camp in South Africa;—have occasionally tried to extract some information from the late Lord Kitchener (then the Field-Marshal’s right-hand man), and have breakfasted with the Staff of the then General Sir John French on the Veldt. I can remember David Beatty as a midshipman riding racing ponies, in which I was frequently interested, with the same skill, dash, and determination that has distinguished him in that larger field of operations which the Armistice has just enabled him to quit. I have discussed at Henry Labouchere’s table the possibilities of Cyrano de Bergerac as a drama for the English stage, with the late Sir Henry Irving; I was present in the House of Lords in my present post of Sergeant-at-Arms at the time of the fateful division when,—in spite of the “die-hards” and their venerable chief, Lord Halsbury,—that august body virtually voted away their own powers. This long career as a Spectator of Events has resulted in a list of acquaintances which, like the immortal Sam Weller’s knowledge of public houses, is “extensive and peculiar.” I confess to a great love of the real Artist, be the artist a king or a prize-fighter, and I think that, on the whole, this world of ours is a pleasant enough place to live in, always assuming that you do not expect too much from your fellow-man. So perhaps I may claim to have had more opportunities than have most philosophical lookers-on of seeing the inside turn of life in general. Having now made my excuses, I may as well go back and begin at the beginning.
