How the King washes the Feet of the Beggars and feeds them on Maunday Thursday.
It is only by special invitation from the chief Court Chamberlain that one can witness the King’s performance of this religious function on Maunday Thursday. Being the fortunate possessor of this permit, I passed at three o’clock in the afternoon to the Hall of Columns in the palace. There the Court soon assembles in state, the ladies in magnificent dresses, of which the trains are tastefully arranged by the Gentlemen-in-Waiting over the backs of the chairs behind them, and the throng of nobles, Ministers, and officers in their gorgeous uniforms, make a brilliant show.
The King soon appears, attended by the Bishop of Alcalá and Sion, some clerics, and twelve grandees in Court attire. After divesting himself of his sword, Alfonso is girded with a towel by the prelate, and passes to the line of beggars, who sit humbly waiting for the honour which is to be paid them.
These poor men are chosen by lottery about a fortnight preceding the function, and their feet naturally undergo a course of preparation prior to the ceremony, and they are all swathed in the long Spanish cloaks given them for the occasion.
The twelve grandees in attendance have meanwhile knelt in front of the twelve beggars and taken off their shoes, and the forms of these stately personages in this humble position make a sort of screen between the eye of the public and the King’s action of passing a towel over the feet of the poor men, which have been sprinkled from the gold ewer of the Bishop who precedes the Sovereign.
The King then passes to the long table, of the form and laid in the style familiar to us in pictures of the Last Supper, and the beggars are handed by their respective grandees to their seats at the board. The poor men on the last occasion were blind, but this in no way affected their calm acceptance of the fact of being the cynosure of a Court in splendid state and the object of their Sovereign’s service. Stolid were the faces as the King swiftly passed the items of the long menu before their sightless eyes, and as the smell of the good things was wafted to their nostrils they knew that time would give them a more substantial realization of the dainties.
For the dish of each part of the menu found its way to the baskets for the respective beggars, after being handed by the King to the grandees in attendance. Thus twelve large pieces of salmon, twelve joints of beef, and a dozen dishes of every item, were distributed by the august purveyor.
The menu finished, His Majesty completed the programme by handing also the glasses and cruets to the distinguished retinue, they also finding their way to the poor guests; and finally the King concluded the function by folding up the tablecloth with the zest characteristic of his actions.
The final privilege granted to these beggars on Maunday Thursday is the sight of the state apartments. This benefit seems to be thrown away on those whose affliction deprives them of the appreciation of their splendour, but etiquette must be preserved.
On Good Friday the King exercises his power of pardoning criminals, so he stands in front of the high-altar, and, raising to heaven the gold salver containing the names of the privileged persons, he says: “These I pardon for their crimes, even as I hope God will pardon my sins.”
The carving of the lamb on Easter Sunday is quite a religious function at the King’s table. The Bishop of Sion has a service of benediction, and the King and Queen take their places in state on this occasion.
One of the most striking ceremonies preceding the birth of a royal infant in the palace is that of transporting the arm of St. John the Baptist, a sash said to have belonged to the Virgin Mary, and other relics, from the chapel to the bedroom of the Queen. The King and the Court all take part in the function, attended with all the ceremony due to the occasion, and so fatiguing is the ritual that in May, 1907, Queen Victoria nearly fainted during the performance. Indeed, so many are the wearisome rites which Queen Victoria had to follow, according to the customs of the Court of Spain, that more than one editor of a democratic paper declared that if he were interested in the royal succession he would see that the authorities did not thus imperil it.
On Saturday afternoon the King and Queen go to hear the Salve in a quiet, simple fashion at the Church of the Buen Suceso. Women who press their hungry children to their bosoms as they gaze up into the face of the young Queen as she sits in the royal box on this occasion wonder if Her Majesty knows what their sufferings are. The rise in the price of bread, which the Spanish Press speaks of as an act of unjustifiable oppression, recently drove the women to desperation, and made them break the windows of the bakers’ shops in some quarters of the city. This strong measure was successful, and bread is now at its usual price; for, as a Spanish lady said, “The determination of hardly-driven mothers can accomplish more than the discussions of men.”
The poor people who greeted the Queen with such loud acclamations on her arrival in Spain wonder, moreover, if she knows that the liberal gifts bestowed on such festivals as the King’s Saint’s Day (January 23) to the orphans of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Real Associación de Beneficencía Domiciliaría, etc., are devoted to the maintenance of the friars and nuns of these associations rather than to the benefit of the needy.
The Queen’s philanthropic spirit is, moreover, only appealed to on behalf of the orphanages and schools in the hands of the clerics, and so she is not in touch with the lay side of her country’s efforts.
“If such serious matters as the lessening of the heavy duties on articles of food which go to the support of the friars, and the limitation of the associations which kill our industries, are not soon settled by the Government, they will be settled in the street!” say many thoughtful men in Spain; and it was those who saw the seriousness of the aspect who expressed their disappointment that the English Queen was so gracious in her reception of the deputation which presented the King with a petition, signed by leading ladies of fashion, against the Law of Associations; for these ladies are naturally unable to realize the struggles of their sisters against the monopoly by these associations of many of the industries on which their bread depends, such as chocolate-making, perfume-distilling, embroidery, lace-making, etc.
A bitter smile wreathes the lips of people as they read of the royal sympathy for these organizations, but they say: “What can one expect, when the young Queen is only environed with Spanish ladies, whose support of the clerics smoothes their lives, and with the Spanish priests, who dictate every deed of sympathy to the Sovereigns of Spain?”
In speaking of Queen Victoria, it must be remembered that all opinions expressed are modified by the reminder of the Queen’s difficulty of knowing the real circumstances of a strange land of which she had to master the language, and that conventional greetings, gala receptions, and State dinners, do not lead to a true knowledge of the country and its needs.
It is hoped by patriots that the Queen’s advent will lead to the adoption of a system of Parliamentary elections in Spain similar to that of England; for, as everybody says, if the deputies of the Congress were elected by the votes of the people instead of by the voice of the Ministers, the country’s conventional love would be cemented into real devotion to the dynasty, and the reforms would be enacted which would save the land from stagnation and poverty.
The article published in an English review by a Spaniard, called “Spain’s Hopes of a New Era,” showed that the English Queen was looked upon as the coming saviour of the country from much that has so far crippled it; and the twenty-four short articles and poems published in the Woman’s Agricultural Times from the pens of leading literary and professional ladies, begging their future Sovereign to encourage the lighter branches of agriculture as professions for women, show the hoped-for result of the new reign.
Disappointment has been expressed that this spontaneous act from Spanish women of note, many of whom have influence in the Press, has not so far resulted in any royal act of encouragement in the direction desired; so the people do not know whether their Sovereign is in sympathy with their needs or not. Directly Her Majesty is in touch with the more progressive women of her country the Press will be filled with the fact, and the warm hearts of the people will beat with gratitude, and they will be able to talk about more than the beauty of the Queen’s hair and complexion.
The Spanish Court seemed to surpass itself in magnificence in the splendid functions of the christening of the first heir to the throne.
Every seat in the chapel of the royal palace was reserved for those of the highest degree, and the gallery along which the royal procession passed on its way from the royal apartments to the church was crowded by people, who could only gain admittance by tickets from the Chief Chamberlain of the palace.
The magnificent tapestries only used on State occasions were displayed, the halberdiers lined the way, and the ladies, all in mantillas, with their cavaliers in uniform or evening dress, waited in breathless impatience for the advent of the new Prince of Asturias. At last came the announcing hand-clap, and with solemn, stately step the procession came round the angle of the gallery.
CHRISTENING OF THE PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, SON OF ALFONSO XIII.
First came the mace-bearers, then the ushers, all in double file, then two long lines of Chamberlains in gold-laced coats and white silk stockings, followed by the grandees of Spain in their striking military uniforms and feathered cocked hats. Then came seven grandees carrying the seven salvers with such requisites for the holy ceremony as a salt-cellar, a gold basin and ewer, a cut lemon, a lace towel, a cape, and a large cake. Behind this party came the royal Prince himself, looking really an ideal infant in his beautiful laces. His fair little uncovered head, and sweet, placid, tiny face, and clenched fists were the admiration of all beholders. He was in the arms of the Marquesa de los Llanos, who is the chief of his retinue, and on one side walked the Nuncio, who is the representative of His Holiness, as godfather, and on the other was the Queen-mother, as the godmother. The King looked dignified in his new position, as father. The Infantes and Infantas followed, with their suites. The Infanta Maria Teresa and her husband, Infante Fernando, being only convalescent from measles, were unable to be present. Don Carlos, the widowed husband of the King’s late sister, the Infanta Mercedes, led little Prince Alfonso, who was known as the heir to the throne until the birth of his little cousin, and by the way he tripped along and evidently enjoyed the brilliant sight he seemed in no way saddened by his deposition from his former rank.
It was then understood that Don Carlos would marry before long the beautiful daughter of the Princess of Orleans.
The little sister of the ex-heir was led by the hand by the Infanta Isabel, at whose side walked Princess Henry of Battenberg, beautifully robed in grey velvet and ermine. Prince Arthur of Connaught, with Captain Wyndham and the Princes from Russia and Germany, etc., all had their places in the procession. China was also represented. The personal staff of the King was conspicuous, and the halberdier band of music marshalled the glittering throng to the chapel.
The altar was decorated with white flowers. The historic font in which the members of the Royal Family have for centuries been baptized was in the centre of the chapel.
Thirty-six Bishops and four Cardinals officiated. The royal neophyte was very good in the arms of his grandmother, Queen Maria Cristina. The water sprinkled on his brow was from the River Jordan. The christening ceremony over, the King decorated his infant son with the Order of the Golden Fleece, the Order of Isabella the Catholic, and the Collar of Charles III. All the ladies of the Court were in full dress.
Then the procession filed back to the royal apartments in the same order in which it had come. The dresses of the ladies of the nobility were all rich in colour and profuse with splendid jewels. The white satin, gold-embroidered train of the Duchess of Arion set off the beauty of her person.
Amid the many stately personages, the majestic figure of Sir Maurice de Bunsen was conspicuous, and Lady de Bunsen attracted attention by her beauty and her beautiful and yet simple Court dress. The ceremony was, indeed, one not easily to be forgotten as the occasion of a gathering of important personages or their representatives from far and near, and no infant could have taken its prominent part on such an important occasion with greater equanimity than did the beautiful babe—the Prince of Asturias. To sleep and to smile seem easy things to do, but to do them during the solemn, stately functions in which Church and State meet together to do him honour is not always an easy thing for an eight-day-old infant, and by accomplishing this task little Prince Alfonso added to the affection and admiration with which he is regarded.
It is always pleasant to Queen Victoria Eugénie to pass from the pageantry and pomp of the palace of Madrid to the less formal surroundings of the country. It is by no mere figure of speech that it can be said that when they are at the Palace of San Ildefonso, at La Granja, King Alfonso and Queen Victoria Eugénie lead the simple life.
The King rises early in the morning, and takes a long walk or ride—sometimes alone, sometimes attended by one gentleman, and sometimes accompanied by the Queen—or he has a bicycle spin in the grounds.
Not long since, when the King was driving alone with the Queen in a motor, he saw a soldier thrown from his horse, upon which he immediately jumped from his automobile and rushed to the assistance of the poor man.
The King’s interest in his soldiers is very marked, and when the bell rang at dinner-time, when he was in consultation one morning with the commanding officer, he went with him to inspect the food, and tasted it himself.
The Prime Minister could hardly hide his surprise, when he arrived from Madrid one day to transact political business, to meet his Sovereign in his shirt-sleeves, the young King having taken off his coat, as it was a hot day for golfing.
King Alfonso and Queen Victoria like to go about unattended together, and the Spanish custom of wearing no hat in the country has been quite adopted by the English Sovereign; and people in the little town are pleased to see the Queen pass by on foot to pay a visit to some friends without anything on her head, but, of course, carrying a parasol. Both the Sovereigns spend hours with their baby son in the beautiful gardens of La Granja. The King will often take him in his arms and carry him about, or if they meet the baby Prince in his little white carriage when they are out walking they stop and fondle and talk to him.
The Queen is beginning to share King Alfonso’s interest in golf, and, indeed, she takes her part well in the game, and can easily do the full round over the rough ground without any sign of fatigue.
When the weather is too hot for golf, Her Majesty much enjoys a peaceful afternoon by the river, trout-fishing. In this sport she is quite an expert, and the large basket of fish caught by the Queen and the Duquesa de San Carlos was carried home in triumph on one occasion, and figured on the royal menu for dinner.
In the Court, surrounded by courtiers and people, whose rôle is to please, the Queen may hardly gauge the depth of Spain’s devotion to their English Sovereign.
When the people of Galicia presented the island of Cortegada to Alfonso XIII., they said it was also a tribute of sympathy to their Queen. “It will be nice for Her Majesty to be within sight of the English ships as they lie at anchor off the coast,” they said. “It will be easy to go to England from there, and she will perhaps be reminded of her Isle of Wight. Then, we hope to see King Edward in the Spanish island home.”
The enthusiasm for England is very great since the royal alliance, and for the successful recommendation of any fashion, game, or sport it is only necessary to say it is English.
It is, therefore, hoped that a nearer acquaintance with our Parliamentary system will lead to its adoption in Spain.
As, in face of his overwhelming influence, it is not possible for the people to elect a deputy of either party in opposition to the one chosen or supported by the cacique of the district, the deputies elected by public vote have mostly been republicans. Hence the suffrage is associated with republicanism in Spain, and Catalonia, where this has been successful, is connected with the idea of Separatism. Thus, with the misreport of things in Madrid, it is thought that Catalonia is wanting in Monarchists. But whenever the wisdom of the King leads to a royal visit to Barcelona, the enthusiasm for the royal visitor always proves that the Press has misinterpreted the state of feeling there; and the welcome that will be given to Queen Victoria when she makes the long-looked-for visit to Barcelona will show that Catalonia is also content that an English Queen should reign over them.
At Cortegada the peasants to whom I was introduced made the sign of the cross, for they said they had never seen an Englishwoman before; but they had one for their Queen, and she was welcome in the land.
“Viva la Reina Victoria!” was the cry which floated across the moonlit waters as the peasants returned to the mainland after the celebration of their annual festival on the island which had been offered for the acceptance of the King and the Queen, and, indeed, this cry is echoed throughout the land.