Bertie is thirteen months old today. Yesterday I took him for a glorious walk round the perimeter of Richmond Park and his behaviour was exemplary until we were almost back at the car.
He played with a few dogs and then we continued our walk. If I may digress, we passed this elegant edifice.
Sudbrook House, 17 April 2020.
If the picture suggests I’m looking over the fence – I am. It is not Princess Alexandra’s residence, though she does live in Richmond Park. You have to be posh enough to be a member of the Richmond Golf Club to saunter up those steps. Not playing go’f but knowing enough to drop the “l”, I wonder where a member stows his clubs? Does he shove them in the car boot or does a lackey take ‘em round the back and give ‘em a bit of spit and polish while Himself recuperates from a testing round by having a few more rounds? When I shot the rules were crackers. At lunch guns could not be left in cars with good locks; they had to be brought inside and left unguarded in a hall. Fine if it was a private house; bonkers in a pub.
But you want to know about Sudbrook House. It’s Palladian but like so many P houses in Britain not designed by P. It was built in the early 18th century for the second Duke of Argyll and was bought by the Crown Estate from which it was leased in 1891 by the Richmond Golf Club. The club bought the freehold in 2016. I imagine it was a repairing lease and the Crown Estate was happy to get rid of it.
A dark cloud, metaphorically, obscures this sunny morning. Three roe deer are grazing in an area reserved for nesting sky larks. Bertie scents them and dashes off to investigate. He chases them for a bit but the deer tire of this, stand their ground and B retires. By the time I have got to the nesting meadow the police are in attendance.
1. Bertie was walking off a lead in a protected nesting area.
2. I was walking off a designated footpath in the nesting area.
3. Bertie was out of control on two counts: chasing deer and not coming back to owner when called.
It’s a first for me. The policeman only cautioned me – in the very distant past I was always charged. Nevertheless, it’s farewell Richmond Park for a year, when the caution is wiped.
Bad luck Christopher and Bertie. You haven’t always been charged in the past. I recall driving to a meet of the Catterick Beagles after lunching well in another Richmond when you, Porker Morgan and I veered off the road to avoid an oncoming car (driven it subsequently transpired by a liverish police surgeon). We rolled down a steep bank a few times and ended up in the lower branches of a tree none the worse for wear (unlike the car). The police duly arrived with breathalyser and to the intense irritation of their surgeon the (repeated) test proved negative. Neither charge nor caution was forthcoming. Remind me who was in the driving seat? Happy days.
Sorry to hear that. Shades of the infamous ‘Fenton’ incident a few years back:
https://youtu.be/d7xTC2-klpM
Oh Bertie! Very Wodehousian though…
Oh, what a pity! So sorry for both you and Bertie. I have yet to be caught letting Harry off his lead (which I do fairly often if nobody’s about), but it’s probably a matter of time.
Sorry to hear you and Bertie are banned from Richmond Park. It’s so glorious there. Can I just say again how much I enjoy your blogs each day. Very uplifting in these strange times. Much love to you, Robert and, of course, dear Bertie. X
I can feel sympathy welling up throughout the doggy section of your faithful followers. How dare the boys in blue pick on poor Bertie. I, on the other hand, am on the side of the sky larks.
As an addendum to your shooting etiquette comment, whilst at lunch you bring your weapon into the draughty hall, but at morning coffee and tea you leave the shooter in your car. It is I suspect designed to trip up the socially aspiring novelist.