She is devoted to each of them alike, with a possible special fondness for the Infanta Beatrice. But the Infanta is only one year old and as she is the baby as well as the one daughter, this slight preference is understandable.
The Princes get up every morning at half-past seven. After their bath they repair at once to the Queen’s room and remain for an hour or more. Thus is every day started.
Every bright morning when the Royal Family is in residence at Madrid all three children are taken to the Casa de Campo to play, at half-past ten. When they tire of their play they drive a little, and the Prince of Asturias takes his morning ride on his pony “Belaye,” and then they go to the pretty little châlet which has been built for them in the park and enjoy a nap before luncheon. The Prince is keen to hear stories—especially stories about soldiers. They must be invented stories, however, and each morning the governess or one of the nurses is implored to tell a story. Generally he drops off to sleep before the story is finished, which is what he likes. At bedtime the Queen generally tells him a story until he falls asleep.
One Monday morning in one of the rooms of the private apartments in the Royal Palace at Madrid I noticed a suspended sheet. There were a group of chairs in front and obviously the sheet had been used as a screen for lantern pictures. Upon inquiry I was told that every Sunday evening the King and Queen and all the Royal Family dine together informally—en famille as it were—and after the meal they all adjourn to the adjoining room for a biograph exhibition. These Sunday evening suppers and entertainments constitute one of the most charming features of the Spanish court life.
The children of the Spanish Royal Family are especially fortunate in having parents who are above all things human—vibrant with youth, indulgent with the pranks and pleasantries of childhood. It is not so long since King Alfonso himself was a mischievous lad, and Queen Victoria Eugenie a capricious girl. According to all reports, the boy Alfonso was quite as full of spirit and mischief as the average small boy anywhere in the world.
King Alfonso even now has not outgrown this love for fun. The first Shrove Tuesday that Queen Victoria was in Spain she was made the victim of a joke by her Royal spouse and his sister, the Infanta Maria Teresa. As Her Majesty was passing through one of the corridors of the Palace the King and the Infanta suddenly sprang out upon her, disguised behind masks, giving her a considerable start. This is the survival of an ancient custom in Spain peculiar to this particular day. This boyishness is constantly cropping out, often to the amusement of the court. There can be no doubt that when the little Princes are old enough to indulge in practical jokes that they will find their Royal father and mother the most sympathetic of parents.
I had seen the Royal children a good many times during my stay in Spain, but I had had no opportunity for close observation of them. I wanted to see them at play, and to take some snap-shots of them with my own camera. None of my friends at court quite knew how to obtain this privilege for me. The request was without precedent, as the Princes have not yet reached the age of holding audiences. So I spoke to His Majesty the King about it. I broached the matter delicately, but without the slightest hesitation the King replied: “Most certainly you may meet them. In the Palace if you like, but they are so little I am afraid they would be shy and quiet. The best thing would be for you to go to the Casa de Campo one morning and play with them. There you may also have your camera and take as many snap-shots as you like. And if the pictures are good,” he continued, “you will let me show them to Her Majesty the Queen who is always much interested in all photographs of the Princes.”
CHAPTER XII
THE PRINCES AT PLAY
I thanked His Majesty warmly for this unusual courtesy, and the second morning after Señor de Torres called for me at my hotel just before ten o’clock and we drove together to the Reserve in the Casa de Campo. The Marquesa de Salamanca, who is the First Royal Governess, passed us in an automobile near the entrance. The Marquesa de Puerta, who is the Second Governess, was not there that morning. We arrived a brief moment behind the nursery. The Princes and their nursemaids were still in the mule coach driven by Corral, the favourite nursery coachman. Behind was the little open carriage drawn by the two donkeys “Sol” and “Luna,” and the tiny Shetland pony, “Belaye,” of the Crown Prince.
As we approached, the Marquesa de Salamanca lifted the Prince of Asturias from the carriage and brought him in her arms toward us, presenting him as the Little Crown Prince. Anticipating her, however, the little fellow cried out: “Kaulak—Kaulak, is coming.” Now, Kaulak is a Madrid photographer who takes most of the photographs of the Royal family and the Prince had noticed the cameras in my hand. The Marquesa told him, as she put him down at our feet, that I was not Kaulak, though I had cameras and could take his picture. He surveyed me critically for a moment and then came and posed himself before me with his little right hand at salute, asking that I first take him that way. He wore the same broad-brimmed white straw hat encircled by a pale blue ribbon and the cunning little white flannel suit in which I had first seen him going out to drive. He tried valiantly to wrestle with my name but this proved too much of a mouthful.