File:King Edward VII. as a sportsman (1911) (14590279778).jpg

Identifier: kingedwardviiass00wats (find matches)
Title: King Edward VII. as a sportsman
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Watson, Alfred Edward Thomas, 1849-1922
Subjects: Edward VII, King of Great Britain, 1841-1910 Horses Sports -- Great Britain
Publisher: London : Longmans, Green and Co.
Contributing Library: Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine
Digitizing Sponsor: Tufts University

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nt Majesty, KingGeorge, killed two cocks, right and left—a feat, need-less to say, opportunity for which can rarely arise, andthen it is long odds against its accomplishment. TheQueens birthday week, the ist of December, wassignalised by shoots at Wolferton Wood, and morepartridge-driving. A frequent visitor to Sandringham was the presentMarquess of Ripon, who as Lord de Grey earned anunsurpassed reputation with the gun. He has evenbeen described as in a class by himself, a distinctionwhich he at least would deprecate, bearing in mind theachievements of Lord Walsingham, the Hon. HenryStonor, King George himself, and a very few others.But Lord Ripon assuredly ranks as an almost pheno-menal shot ; and he has most kindly complied withmy request that he would contribute a few pagesto this volume, which would, I knew, be speciallywelcome, as he is naturalist as well as sportsman. Ibegged him, furthermore, whilst he was occupied withthe subject, to add that comment and advice on shoot- 44
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Sandringham ing in general which I felt that readers with any tastefor field sports would study with appreciation andcare. A debt of gratitude is owing to him for whatfollows :— There can be no question that King Edward VII.was in the fullest sense of the word a sportsman. Hecombined the true Englishmans love of countrylife, open air, and exercise, with a keen interest invarious kinds of sport, and in none more than shoot-ing. To describe the shooting of past years at San-dringham is a melancholy task, bringing back, as it doesnow, so many sad memories ; and as I write that well-known and respected figure is ever before me, in thefamiliar Inverness cape, riding on his shooting ponyfrom one covert to another, the gracious and courteoushost to whose kind hospitality I and many others owesuch a deep debt of gratitude. Busy, as he had necessarily been, from youthupwards, and especially hard worked as he was duringthe last ten years of his life. King Edward was never-theless invariably p

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