KING ALFONSO AND HIS HEIR.
KING ALFONSO AND HIS HEIR.
KING ALFONSO AND HIS HEIR.
progression of his country and appreciates to the full the necessity of economic development. At the time of the Spanish-American war when Cuba and the Philippines were lost to Spain, it seemed as if her greatest markets had been taken from her, but during recent years, since Don Alfonso has extensively taken up the reins of sovereignty, he has stimulated commerce and trade in other parts of the world. Spain has seaports which give her splendid natural commercial advantages. A few years since, Spain went quietly but earnestly to work to build up an exchange trade with the new countries of the world which seemed to offer the greatest opportunity for large commercial expansion,—trade with the Argentine Republic, Paraguay, Brazil, Chili, Peru and Mexico. During the last few years, under the wise counsel of the King, these states have been courted diplomatically and socially to the incalculable stimulus of trade; and with what result? In ten years, Spanish bonds have doubled in value. Spain now sends $12,000,000 worth of textiles, minerals and wines to the Argentine while only six years ago, 1905, the amount was only $6,000,000. In Uruguay, almost a proportionate increase has been witnessed since 1905 when $9,000,000 worth of exports went from Spain and it is probable that within the near future, Spain will be sending $20,000,000 worth of stuffs to Uruguay alone.
Spain’s trade with Mexico has been particularly happy because the credit system is practicallynon-existent. Of $7,000,000 worth of goods shipped to Mexico in one recent year, 90 per cent. was paid for in cash. To the United States, Spain sends annually approximately $8,000,000 worth of minerals, cork, olives, Malaga grapes, etc., and in return purchases from us nearly $30,000,000 worth of goods. Raw cotton is the chief import from the United States, but modern machinery forms a big item. Spain, however, buys most of her goods from Great Britain and the amount shipped annually to the Iberian Kingdom averages $80,000,000. This is the result of long years of trade study, nursed and built up and consequently it is less significant than the trade with South America which has received such extraordinary stimulus, not in ten but in five years, or in other words, since King Alfonso has been personally concerned with this phase of the development of his kingdom. Spain is a country in which the people went in a single bound from petroleum to electricity and this is indicative of her entire development. She is rapidly skipping through the gas stage of progress through which the rest of the world has so long toiled.
The keynote of King Alfonso’s character is in his courageous determination. Once convinced of what is right, I believe he would be as steadfast as the rugged crags of the Pyrenees, that he could be swayed by neither favourites nor ministers, threats nor prayers.
The sense of duty has been highly developed inhim, thanks to the careful training he received at the hands of Queen Maria Cristina, and his sense of moral obligation is absolute.
The general idea of the King is to encourage the industrial and economic development of the country, at the same time he is upholding the state, and to strengthen at every point the bulwarks of the state until its whole fibre is of the strongest character. Commercial development without a thoroughly grounded state, he believes to be worthless.
Don Alfonso XIII believes in Spain. He glories in her proud past and he has the conviction that greater glories and prosperity are still awaiting her. It is toward her greater future that he is ever looking, and with that greater future in view, so he is building. He wants the world to know Spain. He wants tourists from every country to come and see her natural beauties, her resources and her possibilities. To stimulate interest abroad he is now giving special attention to the seemingly trivial, but after all most important matter, namely, better roads throughout the Kingdom and improved hotels. Till now, many of the roads of Spain are utterly wretched. When Spain can vie with France in her road beds, the Sovereign believes that many more tourists will come, especially in view of the increasing use of automobiles. And having come to the country he wants people made comfortable.
There are, at this time, but few first-class hotels in Spain. There is one at Granada,built by the Duke of San Pedro, and others at Algiciras and Ronda. The hotels of Madrid are all rather bad and excessively expensive. The prices are paramount to the best hotels of London and Paris and the rooms are small, poorly equipped and in general comfort are decidedly lacking. The King manifested his interest to the extent of asking me many minute details about the hotel where I was lodged, the size of my room, number of windows, was there running water (which there was not), the kind of bed, etc., etc. He knew quite well, however, the actual conditions before he asked the questions. A new Ritz-Carlton was therefore built in Madrid through the personal interest and influence of the King, and it is the aim of His Majesty to make this the first of a chain of good hotels all over Spain. This practical interest in details of this character indicates that he is no mere dreamer of empires, no idealist who lives in the future because he is looking forward. Like all strong men of history, King Alfonso is a practical idealist who gives heed to each step of the road he is travelling, conscious that on the work of to-day the work of to-morrow must stand.
History will ultimately place him, but at twenty-four he has already taken his place among the signal figures of his time and his promise for the future is immeasurable.
An estimate of King Alfonso’s statecraft at soearly a period is not possible. But there is great promise in the young sovereign. Don Alfonso does everything that he undertakes. It is a bred-in-the-bone characteristic with him to excel in all things.
King Alfonso, like King George in England, is one of the best shots in his kingdom. This, at least, is a matter of merit, and cannot be said as a courtesy to the King. This year, King Alfonso came out second best at the annual pigeon shoot, having taken nineteen birds out of twenty-one. The high record was twenty-one out of twenty-three. Previous years, the King has captured the first prize.
The English Princess who became a Spanish Queen, therefore, came to a land of extraordinary activity. Spain’s development is proceeding with greater rapidity than in any other country in Europe during the present decade. King Alfonso is the most wideawake, alert, progressive man in Spain and he is controlled by a tremendous ambition to bring Spain into line with the most modern of nations. He is kept well informed as to what all parties in his kingdom are doing—what they want and why they want it. He is as quick to accept a plank from the platform of the Republicans or Socialists as from the Liberals or Monarchists. By nature, Don Alfonso is a radical. It is by virtue of his personality and what he has accomplished for Spain that he is the most popular manin his Kingdom. Republicans to whom I have put the question: “If a Republic were declared in Spain, who would be the first national leader—the first president?” The answer has been “probably Don Alfonso. He is the most popular man in the country.”
Oneafternoon, shortly after the audience already referred to, I was crossing the Plaza de Oriente in Madrid, towards the Royal Palace. An automobile came whirling up from the Casa de Campo and as it passed, a hand waved through the window. It was the spontaneous action of a man aglow with youth and energy. Just beyond, the car stopped, the door opened, and the King jumped out. I was so surprised I even forgot to throw away the cigar I was smoking. In the friendliest and most natural way possible, His Majesty shook my hand and told me that at five o’clock they were going to play polo for the Queen’s cup at the Casa de Campo grounds and if I cared to go along, to find one of the Palace secretaries and tell him to order a carriage for me from the royal mews.
It did not take long to find Don Pablo Churruca, who promptly procured the carriage and we drove together through the lovely gardens of the Royal Park, arranged by the Queen Maria Cristina, to the polo field. These polo grounds are some three or four miles from the Palace, and command an imposing panorama of Guadarramamountains which, owing to their considerable height, are snow-capped until late June. The polo field was laid out by the Marquis of Viana, the King’s bosom friend and his Master of the Horse. The Marquis is prouder of this polo field than almost anything else in the world, and with reason. It is a magnificent greensward, kept in perfect condition. Here the King comes to play three times a week during the stay of the Court in Madrid.
Don Alfonso looks upon his regular daily exercise as much as a part of his kingly duties as signing documents or reviewing troops. He is the only polo-playing sovereign in the world, and in this, as in everything else, he is an enthusiast.
That day, he had a string of seventeen ponies in charge of eleven grooms on hand for frequent changes. At the royal mews, he has more than double this number, most of them at present coming from the Argentine Republic.
King Alfonso is at his best in the saddle. He rides like a born horseman and nowhere,—not even in military uniform,—does he appear to better advantage than at polo. His reckless energy and boundless spirit are ever to the fore. When he starts after the ball, he goes full tilt, showing no consideration, asking none. As the riders sweep up and down and across the field, the King is ever in the thickest of the game, riding hard, driving hard and holding his own with the strongest and best. During the succeeding weeks I went many times to the Polo games.
At the close of the game each day, His Majesty would walk across the field to ask the few invited guests present to join the players for tea which is served in a spacious tent erected near to the club châlet. The usual players whom I saw there were the Duke of Alba, the Marquis of Viana, the Marquis of Santo Domingo, Count de la Cimera, Count de la Maza and Mr. Marshal, an English professional. Besides these players there were usually three or four other gentlemen and half a dozen ladies.
After the game, the King would come strolling across the grounds in his riding togs, a loose coat on, but unbuttoned, a grey soft hat carelessly balanced on the back of his head. As he approached, the gentlemen would uncover as would His Majesty, and in turn he would greet each one. As he shook hands with the ladies, each in turn would do a fascinating curtsey. Then all would repair into the tent—and the rest was like afternoon tea in any English country house. And incidentally, English is the language most used by all the company. The King and several of the players use English almost precisely as their mother tongue.
The fearlessness of Don Alfonso at polo is typical of his whole life. He is a fatalist. His spirit is as much endless courage as an absolute lack of the knowledge of fear. I doubt if he has any conception of the nature or quality of that emotion.
Now that the lamented King Edward is gone,it will perhaps be no indiscretion to make public an incident in connection with King Alfonso’s going to Barcelona when that city was believed to be on the eve of a revolution. “I am needed there,” said Don Alfonso. Despite the entreaties of the entire court, he planned to go. Just before the day he was to start from the capital, King Edward summoned one of the Spanish Embassy in London. He said that he had not slept the entire night through worry about King Alfonso’s going to Barcelona. He begged that a message be immediately sent to Madrid beseeching Alfonso to abandon the trip. Don Alfonso acknowledged the message. But, he proceeded to Barcelona. The results of the trip vindicated the young King’s wisdom. The long and short of it is, King Alfonso is a man, a man to be trusted in a tight place. His theory is, “If they set out to kill me, they will get me anyway, so in the meantime, why bother my head about it?” This allegiance to duty is with him a passion, a veritable religion in the highest sense.
Take the regular routine of the King’s day. He rises early—from seven to seven-thirty; some mornings when he reviews troops, he leaves the Palace at six. He is occupied with his correspondence and state papers until ten when he receives the Prime Minister and one other minister. The Premier reports every morning and the other members of the Council are received every day in turn. Then come the regular audiences which occupy him until one-thirty or two, when he takes luncheon. In the afternoon, he does whatever chores may come up,—the opening of a bazaar or exhibition, or any of the endless calls which are made upon the sovereign. At four, he has tea with the Queen and then goes to polo or pigeon shooting or takes his regular exercise, whatever it may be for the day. Upon his return, there are sometimes further audiences, and always before dressing for dinner, he peruses the day’s cuttings from the newspapers of the world. Forty-six daily newspapers come regularly to the Palace. Each afternoon, the King’s private secretaries (there are five of them in all, appointed from the diplomatic corps) glean from these every item of news likely to be of interest to the sovereign. Nothing is skipped, criticism and unkindly comment go in with all the rest. These clippings are pasted on sheets of paper which are bound together with a red and yellow cord and left on His Majesty’s table.
At eight-thirty he dines. Week day evenings, the King goes to whatever social functions he has to attend. King Alfonso appreciates his social duties as a sovereign quite as much as his duties of state.
Coming down the main stairway of a house in Madrid after a dance at five o’clock in the morning once he met one of his secretaries. “You lucky beggar,” he exclaimed, “you need not get out of your bed before three in the afternoon, while I must be up to receive my ministers as usual!” One of the great reasons for the popularity of King Alfonso is his attention to social affairs. He enters into these functions with the same zest that he does everything else and he is seldom accused of putting a damper on an occasion by leaving too early.
The great fact concerning Don Alfonso that appeals to me is his extreme humanness. He is ever and always on the spot. In his movements, he is as quick as lightning and his mind is extraordinarily alert. Disciplined to the very highest pitch of efficiency, he is an all round able man, and would be so considered in any walk of life. He is never too busy to attend to the last, smallest detail concerning any matter in his Kingdom.
One day he said to me, “Anything that you want in Spain, or about Spain, don’t go anywhere else—let me know directly.”
Whether he is presiding over his Council of Ministers or amiably and gracefully performing some ceremony incident to the duties of sovereignty or receiving in audience, or playing polo with his own chosen companions, or driving his great 70 h.p. car across country at reckless speed, or taking tea with the Queen, he is always at once the same blithe spirit, the spontaneous youth and the earnest man of affairs. In uniform, he looks a born soldier. At polo, he appears like a man who lives for sport. In ordinary attire, he is the dapper young blood of any capital city, sleek, well-groomed, immaculate. His face is as elusive as a kaleidoscope, changing each second. Smiles andlaughter play around his mouth and eyes but underneath the surface one instinctively feels the intense, thoughtful nature of an inspired leader of men.
These glimpses of the man—Alfonso,—his character, temperament and personality, may enable us to picture the environment of the English Princess, whose early life was spent in the tranquil atmosphere of the Isle of Wight and the favourite Scottish home of Queen Victoria of England. From the moment of her entrance into Spain, she has lived amid strenuous scenes, and in an atmosphere as different from her native land as anything could be. Yet she has risen to it all like the born Queen she is. That the lurking dangers which so often apprise her royal spouse, sorely try her spirit and sometimes wear her nerves is not to be wondered at. That she exercises the control she does is the cause of our admiration.
Not since the year 1170 had an English Queen been called to the throne of Spain. In that year, Alfonso VIII, wooed and won the English Eleanor, who, as Queen, distinguished herself as a patroness of scholarship and learning, largely supporting by contribution, the University of Palencia. It is the belief and hope of Spain, that Queen Victoria will carry into Spain English traditions along this line and during the years of her reign materially raise the educational standard of the whole people. Certain it is that any work which she attempts will be heartily encouraged by her royal spouse.
Queenship carries with it myriad duties,—not merely the duties of sovereign, official or political as the case may be, but first and foremost, the duties of motherhood, the duties of bearing and rearing kings and queens to be. For this high office, Queen Victoria was soon to demonstrate her aptitude and the best part of her romance lies in the story of the royal princes of Spain which have blessed the marriage during the first four years.
Oneyear to a month after the Royal marriage Spain’s happiness and satisfaction in the new Queen were made complete by the birth of an heir to the throne. The official title of the newcomer, as heir apparent, is Prince of Asturias, and as such he is always spoken of, but in addition, he has a string of names almost as long as his Royal father’s string of polo ponies. He is now three years of age and accomplished in many things, but he cannot yet repeat his full name! Indeed, it seems probable that he will be considerably older before he can memorise them all in proper sequence. Fancy this wee boy learning to write: Alfonso Pius Christian Edward Francis William Charles Henry Eugene Ferdinand Anthony Venancio, Prince of Asturias, heir to the thrones of Spain, Castile, Leon, Aragon, the Two Sicillies, Jerusalem, Navarre, Granada, Toledo, Valencia, Galicia, Majolica, Minorca, Seville, Sardinia, Cordova, Corsica, Murcie, Jean, Algarne, Algeciras, Gibraltar, the Canary Islands, the Oriental and Occidental Indies; Archdukedom of Austria, dukedoms of Burgundy, Brabant and Milan; Count of Hapsburg, Flanders, the Tyrol and Barcelona; Seigneur of Biscay and Molina!This is official. Doubters may turn to the almanach de Gotha, page 34, and read in verification.
The joy not only of the Royal Family but of the whole Spanish people may be conceived at the birth of this child, for this is the first son born to a reigning King in Spain in four generations.
With these numerous names and appendages it is not surprising to find Queen Victoria’s first born ushered into the world with considerable ceremony.
In olden days changeling children were sometimes foisted upon a nation, and in certain historical instances such imposed children have succeeded to thrones and held sway while thecamarillawhich perpetrated the trick have fattened and grown rich. To thwart these daring humbugs laws were enacted in many countries to the effect that the birth of a Royal child, especially an heir, must be in the presence of a certain number of responsible dignitaries of the Court. Spain still technically holds that the Prime Minister must be present, and according to tradition all of the ministers, grandees and foreign ambassadors and ministers present in the city shall be summoned to the Palace. The King then marches through the room into which these numerous privileged ones have been gathered bearing the Royal child on a silver salver.
The exuberant happiness of King Alfonso may be surmised from the report of all present on the memorable occasion that as the proud father passed through the chamber, his face transformed intoone great smile, he could only say: “He weighs four kilos! He weighs four kilos!”
One week later the baby Prince was baptised in the chapel of the Royal Palace, the Bishop of Toledo, Primate of Spain, officiating. Be it said that his serene Highness was quite on his dignity on this his first public appearance. Only once did he jeopardise the quiet of the solemn occasion and that at the font when he made known his presence by one long, loud baby shriek—which afforded as much amusement to his father the King, as it did embarrassment to the most reverend Prelate.
This ceremony was in ample keeping with all the traditions of this most ceremonious of courts. Vienna and St. Petersburg alone of all the capitals of Europe are more punctilious than Madrid in the observance of traditional functions. For Madrid and the Spanish Court be it said, however, that these ceremonies are observed in an amiable and happy fashion which is possible only in a country where grace and charm and warmth of nature are characteristic of the temper and temperament of the people.
On this occasion the chapel in the Royal Palace in Madrid was occupied to its utmost capacity, chiefly by the grandees of Spain, visiting royalties, and the ambassadors and ministers of foreign countries.
The wonderful tapestries which are one of the proudest art possessions of Spain and which are only displayed on very special occasions werebrought out to line the walls, while the Halberdier Guards who lined the aisles added colour to the setting. The ladies present all woremantillaswhile the men were in full uniform or evening dress. The Christening procession was one of glittering and imposing magnificence.
First came the mace-bearers followed by the ushers in double file, then two long lines of Chamberlains in gold-laced coats and white silk stockings, after them the grandees of Spain in their striking military uniforms and feathered cocked hats. Then came seven specially picked grandees carrying seven salvers on which were 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, ensconced in rare and beautiful laces. His fair little uncovered head and tiny face, and his 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 Papal Nuncio, who is the representative of His Holiness, the Pope, as godfather, and on the other was the Queen-mother, as the godmother. The King strode behind. The Infantes and Infantas followed, with their suites. The Infanta Maria Teresa, sister of the King, 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
THE PRINCE OF ASTURIAS.
THE PRINCE OF ASTURIAS.
THE PRINCE OF ASTURIAS.
Alfonso, who was known as the heir to the throne until the birth of his little cousin.
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, and other Royal representatives, 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 baptised was in the centre of the chapel.
Thirty-six Bishops and four Cardinals officiated. The Royal child was carried in the arms of his grandmother, the Dowager 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.
The little Prince thrived as a baby, and he was a sturdy chap of almost three when I went to Spain to write this story. In Madrid, I found him already a feature of the capital. Each day, when it was nearing the time for him and his little brotherand sister (who have since arrived) to go for their afternoon drive, a great crowd would collect before the Palace gates to catch a fleeting glimpse of him who will (D. V.) one day reign over them.
On his first birthday, the Prince of Asturias was formally enrolled as a member of one of the crack royal regiments in his father’s kingdom. The regimental register for that day describes the new recruit as “resident in the province of Madrid: age one year; and abachelor!” It was the day before his third birthday that I first saw him. He had profited by his military connection during these two years, for he had learned to salute as properly as any soldier, to wear a uniform, and to play with soldier toys. Incidentally, he was still a bachelor.
This early martial association is a custom common to kings and princes. Not infrequently, heirs apparent are made honorary commanders of regiments before they reach the age of five, and all through boyhood a military uniform is the favourite costume of many of them. King Alfonso nearly always wore a military uniform during his childhood and youth—but Don Alfonso has never been other than a King. A nation was already his at birth, an army, a navy and more palaces than he could ever know what to do with.
From the day the Prince of Asturias became a member of his regiment, a bed was set aside and will always be reserved for him in the regimental barracks, and the regulation plate, mug and spoonof his equipment kept ready for his use. An incident of that memorable first birthday of the little Prince which must have bored the young man intensely was the reading to him of the penal laws in order that thereafter he might not be able to justify any infraction of discipline by maintaining his ignorance of these laws. The papers which he was obliged to sign were marked with an “X” signifying “The Prince of Asturias, his mark.”
One day, when I was in the Palace in Madrid, the little Prince was discovered in one of the chambers of the private apartments, playing with the sword of one of his father’s aides. My companion looked at the little fellow and the sword which was bigger than he, and said: “What does your Royal Highness propose to do with that sword?” The Prince paused in his play and after a moment’s hesitation replied: “Have no fear, no harm shall come to you!”
That afternoon, His Royal Highness (as he is addressed at Court) went riding. His horseback lessons began when he was a little more than two and one-half years old. If he does not prove the best horseman in his kingdom, as is his father to-day, it will not be for lack of early training.
The Crown Prince has one remarkable faculty which is already phenomenally developed, and which is bound to prove of enormous value to him in the future. That is an exceptional memory for faces—and names. He knows perfectly well every face about the palace, and certain members of thecourt whom he sees but seldom he remembers as readily as those he sees every day. For many of the intimates of the household he has his favourite nicknames, usually established by his Royal Highness when the proper names are too long or too difficult for his baby mouth. The Royal Governess is the Marquesa Maria de Salamanca. This is rather sonorous for the Prince so he always calls her “Mia-manca,” a natural contraction of the two names. This trait is one that was very pronounced in his father when he was a child. Many anecdotes are still current of the embarrassment the baby King Alfonso would frequently cause his nurses and governesses and even his mother, the Queen Regent Maria Cristina, by the curious and quaint names he would dub various courtiers and grandees who were frequently staid and dignified old gentlemen.
There is something unmistakably regal in the manner and bearing of the Prince of Asturias. He seems to have a full realisation of who he is, and of his own importance. This spirit is naturally fostered by his environment. Officers and soldiers everywhere salute him, while courtiers and populace uncover when he approaches. Being the recipient of universal obeisance almost from his cradle accustoms him to continual homage and he comes to expect it from everyone.
The coachman Corral who drives the big mules to the nursery coach is a prime favourite with the princes. One day, just as they were about to gofor their afternoon drive the Prince of Asturias went to the King and asked for a cigar. The King was greatly surprised at the request, coming from the Prince who was then not much over two, but he gave the young man a cigar and watched with much curiosity what he would do with it. The cigar was carefully carried throughout the drive and on the return to the Palace the Prince handed it to the coachman. Since then he frequently brings a cigar with him for the coachman, but if for any reason he becomes displeased with the coachman over something during the drive he carries it back upstairs for another day when the coachman is better behaved!
The Prince of Asturias has his mother’s fondness for sweet chocolate, and Her Majesty keeps a supply always at hand to reward the princes for good behaviour, and every day after luncheon they each get a piece anyway.
The Queen was taken ill during the week that the King was in London attending the funeral of King Edward. The Prince of Asturias seemed considerably worried when he learned that his mother would not be down for luncheon. The Queen Mother, Maria Cristina, who lives in the Royal Palace, noticed the anxious look on the face of her grandson and inquired what was the trouble.
“I am thinking,” he replied, “that if mother is ill and father is in London—who will give us chocolate to-day after lunch?”
One afternoon the Prince of Asturias wasnaughty. In the Casa de Campo he had been very cross, and had been reprimanded. That night at supper-time when the dessert was placed before him he said: “To-day I was naughty. I do not deserve these sweets. Dessert is not for naughty children. But before I was naughty; now I am good. Now I deserve my sweets, so I shall take this dessert.”
This self-depreciation as well as appreciation is one of his characteristics. He is as quick to admit his own disapproval of himself, as he is to insist on approval at other times.
One day when His Majesty was going to a pigeon shoot just outside of Madrid he took the Prince of Asturias along in the automobile. The little Prince was greatly pleased at this and very proud. During the next several days he went about the Palace telling everybody how pleased he had been with the excursion.
Travelling also delights the little man. He has from his earliest months been interested in railroad trains and the journeys to Seville in the winter time, to La Granja in the spring, and to San Sebastian in the summer are great treats to the nursery.
When the Prince of Asturias was about a year old the Royal Family moved to La Granja. One afternoon the Queen was walking in the gardens with one of her ladies-in-waiting when it occurred to her that she would like to go outside of the Palace grounds for a stroll down one of the countrylanes. So without any other escort than her one lady companion she started out. Presently they met an old peasant woman trudging toward them carrying a basket. As she came nearer she recognised the Queen and moved toward her. The lady-in-waiting, not understanding the motive of the peasant woman, quickly stepped in between her and the Queen, but the Queen at once said, “No—let her speak. She has something she wants to say to me.” The woman then told the Queen that in the basket she carried a litter of baby rabbits and they were so pretty and cunning that she thought the little Prince would like them—and would Her Majesty not send them to the Prince. The Queen peeped into the basket and was so delighted with the wee warm bunnies that she told the woman to bring them herself to the Prince, and to the astonishment of the lady-in-waiting and the unbounded joy of the peasant woman the Queen led the way back to the Palace and up to the nursery where the Prince duly received the bunnies and was highly pleased with them.
At another time, in Seville, a litter of rabbits was presented to the Prince of Asturias. This time the rabbits were bigger and lively. Someone left the cover off the basket and the rabbits all jumped out and ran off through the Palace, affording the Prince much amusement, but creating no end of trouble for the nurses who had to catch them.
Thereis a striking contrast between the two princes. The Prince of Asturias is absolutely fair with flaxen hair, while Don Jaime is as dark as a typical Spaniard. Even at the age of two, his hair is dark and his eyes are as lustrously brown as his father’s.
All three of the children are learning to speak English, Spanish and French, with equal fluency. They have between them two English nursery governesses and one French maid in addition to a usual number of Spanish maids and other servants. Their mother, the Queen, was brought up familiar with French and German, in addition to her own English, while King Alfonso was taught English, French and German from his boyhood. It is expected that a modern king be able to talk and think in two or three languages, but it is exceptional to find a crown prince of three who can already express himself in three tongues.
When speaking to his mother, the Queen, the little Prince invariably uses English, but with his father, the King, he uses Spanish. He seems to know instinctively one tongue from the other. If he is handed something—for example, a box—hewill take it and pronounce the word in English and Spanish and sometimes in French also. In that way he seems to instinctively teach himself the three languages simultaneously.
The two Princes are naturally constant playmates. In the Casa de Campo where they are taken every morning at half-past ten they play in the sand together and stand up their little toy soldiers. As I had the privilege of playing here with them one morning I shall have more to say of this later. The Crown Prince usually refers to his brother as “my brother, the Infante,” never as Don Jaime or Jaime, although occasionally he lapses into English and calls him “Jimmy.”
The Princes are very fond of each other, but like all children they have their quarrels now and again. The Crown Prince has a good deal of a will of his own and sometimes his nurses find him something more than a handful. One morning he rushed up to the Royal Governess and said: “My brother the Infante has been very naughty,verynaughty, so I kicked him and he cried. But now he is no longer naughty so I shall run and kiss him,” whereupon he rushed off to the playroom in the châlet where he found Don Jaime and tenderly kissed him.
Don Jaime has one of the sweetest baby faces I have ever seen. He has inherited his father’s soft, beautiful eyes and winning smile. His nature is said to be as lovely as his smile. He is a great favourite in the Royal Household and already ismanifesting unusual signs of keenness and intelligence.
Curiously enough, the newspapers of Europe including England, and also of America, have from time to time printed stories to the effect that these two Princes are deaf and dumb and otherwise defective. These rumours are all baseless slanders. The King’s secretary has been put to great trouble writing to inform people all over the world that there is no truth in these stories. On one occasion the Prime Minister found it necessary to issue a public signed statement to the effect that he had personally talked with the Princes and that he knew them to be mentally and physically fit and normal. As a matter of fact, I found them both unusually sturdy boys with exceptional intelligence for their years.
In this connection I had a striking experience of the way these stories are circulated. The second or third day after I arrived in Madrid the head porter at my hotel said to me: “So you are the American physician?”
“What American physician?” I asked in surprise.
“The doctor who has been brought from New York to attend the Crown Prince.”
“No,” I replied, “I am not a doctor. How did you come to think that I was?”
He thereupon explained that shortly after my arrival in Madrid the King’s private secretary had called for me at my hotel and that directly after Ihad been seen entering the Royal Palace. This aroused some curiosity among the hotel people and finally someone concluded that as I wore a Van-dyke beard I must be a physician, and as I had gone to the Palace I had undoubtedly gone to examine the Princes who were said to be deaf and dumb! This absurd tale circulated about the capital and as it went from mouth to mouth details were added, and that which at first was characterised as probable and circumstantial became absolutely definite.
It is really cruel to spread such nonsensical stories about two such bright boys as the Prince of Asturias and Don Jaime.
Both the Prince of Asturias and Don Jaime are devoted to horses and all the trappings of the stables. They are also very fond of cats. There is one big nursery cat which is an especial favourite. So far they have not taken much interest in dogs, and in fact there isn’t even one dog about the Royal Palace in Madrid. Formerly the King had many dogs, but now very few and these are kept in the country. The Queen had a dog which was presented to her by her uncle, the late King Edward of England, but one day at La Granja the dog strayed away—as the best of dogs sometimes will, even when their masters are sovereigns and their abode a royal palace.
The palace of the Alcazar in Seville is a favourite residence with the Princess just as it is with the Queen. The gardens of this old Moorish palace are very delightful and here the Royal children love to play just as their father did when he was a boy. Down one of the walks is a series of tiny holes. Ordinarily no one would even see them. It was a favourite prank of the little Don Alfonso to send some unsuspecting person along this walk while he loitered in the rear; suddenly he would turn a hidden wheel and instantly a fine stream of water would shoot up through each of these squirt holes, to the astonishment and oftentimes consternation of the victim of the Royal joke.
There is a maze of boxwood in these gardens which affords the children endless amusement. A stranger once entering this maze gets completely entangled and bewildered. It takes even an adult some time to discover the path leading out. Here, too, are several small ponds stocked with gold fish and every day the Princes visit the ponds to feed the fish.
The Prince of Asturias is especially fond of playing in sand, and on his third birthday the Queen bought for him a set of sand pails and little shovels which pleased him tremendously.
One day I was in the nursery playroom at the Alcazar and I took occasion to examine the toys of the Royal children. What was my surprise to find a great assortment of little tin mechanical toys such as one sees exhibited all along Fourteenth street or Twenty-third street—toys that cost about ten cents each. The things that are wound up with a
THE COURT OF THE VIRGINS AT SEVILLE.
THE COURT OF THE VIRGINS AT SEVILLE.
THE COURT OF THE VIRGINS AT SEVILLE.
key and then rush about in circles. There were boxing men, and little go-carts drawn by monkeys and donkeys and a great assortment of similar devices.
Of course, they have many grand toys, gifts from sovereigns, potentates and ambassadors, but so far neither of the Princes has exhibited any particular predilection for these expensive toys. The simple ten-cent things afford them as much pleasure as anything.
The favourite toy of the Crown Prince for a long time was a doll dressed as a soldier. The one positive passion that this little fellow has as yet revealed is soldiering. To most children, soldiering is the most fascinating thing in the world. But to the Prince of Asturias, soldiers are almost an obsession. The sound of bugles and drums excites him tremendously and he never wearies of watching troops at drill or on parade. The guard mount at the Royal Palace in Madrid takes place every morning at eleven o’clock, and is considerable of a ceremony, many troops being employed and representing several branches of the army—infantry, cavalry and field artillery, while two bands are constantly playing. The Prince’s room in the Palace looks out upon the esplanade where this takes place, and never a day does he fail to watch this when he is in the Palace. This is another trait inherited from his father.
Another remarkable evidence of more than ordinary brightness in the Prince of Asturias in hisfamiliarity with the different uniforms. He knows them all and rarely makes an error. Even from his window looking down into the street, he can distinguish an artillery uniform from the infantry,—a lancer from a halberdier.
Queen Victoria Eugenie is one of the most devoted of mothers. As it has been the policy in Spain for queens-consort to hold aloof from politics, she has been able to devote more of her time than would ordinarily be the case to her children, without at the same time neglecting other duties of queenship.
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 familleas 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 thislove 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 alsohave 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.”
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, asshe 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.
The two English governesses and the French maid gathered the children’s toys from the coach and we started for a stream of water where the children wanted to play. As we started the Infante Don Jaime was brought over. He is a dear boy with a wonderfully sweet and friendly smile. It was evident from the first moment that he, at least, had no intention of standing on ceremony. The wee Infanta Beatrice was too sleepy to pay much attention, so she was put to rest in an ordinary baby carriage and was soon trundled fast asleep.
The Prince of Asturias first took up the sand pail and shovel that had recently been given him by his mother the Queen for his third birthday. Don Jaime, however, found more interest in the water. He splashed the stream for a few minutes then toddled off to a spring and began tossing stones into the water, laughing with delight at each splash. When he had used all of his stones he asked me to recover them. This was a task, butI rolled up my sleeves, and getting down on my knees I began to pick them from the bottom one by one and arrange them around the spring wall. Just as I finished the Prince of Asturias ran up and seizing the largest stone of all splashed it violently back into the water, wetting me from head to foot. This gave them both great pleasure and they laughed tremendously. “See,” exclaimed the Infante, “I have given you a bath!”
The next moment the Prince decided that my dress was incomplete, as I had no flower in my buttonhole. He asked me if I wouldn’t like him to get me a nice flower. I told His Royal Highness that I should be very pleased. So away he went to the flower beds. He was critical in his selection. A number of flowers were successively rejected. Finally he plucked a beautiful white rose and bringing it back placed it (with a little assistance) in my buttonhole. Don Jaime, in the meantime watched his brother with evident interest and decided that it was his turn to do something toward entertaining me. So he went off to the strawberry bed and picked some luscious ripe berries to feed me.
The morning was unusually dark and gloomy for Madrid in June, and I am very much of an amateur at photography, consequently dependent upon bright light. About eleven o’clock the clouds lightened somewhat and I got out my cameras. Instantly both Princes were interested. The Prince of Asturias particularly seemed to enjoyhaving his picture taken. I snapped him repeatedly and found that he never seemed to weary of posing for me.
The Infanta Beatrice had now waked up, so she joined us. Corral, ever attentive and watchful, took great delight in catching the eye of the small Princess so that her face should be turned toward the camera. She showed a silent interest in the performance, but her little eyes were still heavy with sleep and it was evident that she would much have preferred to remain in her perambulator. She grew alert, however, when the donkey carriage was brought round. She enjoys her rides about the gardens, sitting by the side of her brother Don Jaime.
Don Jaime climbed into the carriage by himself and picked up the whip. The Infanta thought that she should hold this and straightway reached out her hand to grasp it. The two wrestled back and forth until between them they dropped it onto the ground. Then there was storm and tears.
When I looked round the Prince was proudly seated on Belaye. Belaye is one of the smallest of Shetland ponies, and his saddle precisely like a toy. It is not quite a real saddle for it has a seat and straps to secure the little rider. But these are the first lessons of the Prince in riding. By the time he is six he will doubtless mount a real saddle and ride just like a little man.
Besides his Shetland pony he has two little donkeys, so tiny that any man could carry one undereach arm. These are harnessed to a little cart and the young Prince takes his first lessons in driving in the beautiful and extensive park behind the Royal Palace, known as theCasa de Campo. Formerly he had a third donkey called “Astra,” but Astra died. Sometime after this distressing event the Prince was asked about Astra by someone in the Palace, and he made answer with a certain manner of mystery, “Oh! he is gone away. He is in the Casa de Campo eating strawberries.”
In amusing contrast to these dwarf donkeys are four sturdy mules which are attached to the big nursery coach in which ride not only the Prince of Asturias but also his brother Don Jaime, his sister Infanta Beatrice and two of their nurses. Beside the carriage, ride two splendidly mounted equerries and behind, two Royal grooms. On the whole, it is an imposing cavalcade, this nursery out a-airing.
The two Princes—aged three and two respectively—sit on the main seat. A brace for their feet has been adjusted to the carriage and two leather belts keep them securely in place. One day I was going into the Palace just as the nursery was about to start out. The little Prince and the Infante were in their seats and the baby Infanta was just being brought downstairs. As I passed the carriage, I raised my hat to the wee boys, both of whom were dressed in white with broad-brimmed straw hats. Instantly, two little hands were raised to their right temples, elbows out, eyes front—allwith military precision. No soldier could have given a truer salute. It was so charming, so unexpected, that I laughed outright. On later days when I saw them out driving, I noticed that each time they passed a flag they saluted it, and each time an officer or soldier saluted them, the salute was returned.
The morning wore on till noon time when Don Jaime grew overpoweringly sleepy, and the Prince grew anxious for his morning story—preliminary to his noon nap. We drove and rode and picked more flowers and threw more stones into the water and made more sand piles—and we were all very happy. I found them wholesome, hearty children, normal in all respects, bright beyond their years, and well developed. How the baseless stories concerning their supposed infirmities and defectiveness ever started, is a mystery to me, unless political enemies of the monarchial parties set them in circulation with malice aforethought.
After my morning with them in the Casa de Campo some people at my hotel said to me: “What a pity that the Princes are not right in their faculties!”
“But they are perfectly right,” I replied, indulgently, “those stories are pure nonsense.”
“Oh! no, sir. You must be mistaken.”
“How can I be mistaken?” I answered, “I have just spent a morning with them and I found them not only normal in every way, but particularly intelligent.”
“That cannot be,” was the reply, “because it is said that they are defective.”
I began to grow indignant and finally I gave up the controversy. After I had gone they asked one another, as I later learned, how much the King had paid me to say that the Princes were all right! What is one to do with such people? And this is characteristic of what is met often in Madrid.
The Prince of Asturias is to-day one of the loveliest of children. Presently he must submit to the discipline which will make of him a strong, fearless man fit to lead and rule a nation. If he lives he will succeed to the throne of Spain as King Alfonso XIV.
There is no better wish that I may express for my readers than that when they come to this beautiful summer land of Spain, they may have something of the same privileges I have enjoyed; that they may meet this manly, courageous, wise King, Alfonso XIII—face to face, clasp his hand in hearty grasp and sit with him in his study by the hour listening to his clear-cut, incisive conversation, enjoying his ideas and ideals, all expressed in most excellent English; or go with him to the beautiful polo ground and watch him play the fastest sort of game, riding his beautiful ponies brought over from the Argentine Republic; that they may meet the beautiful Queen Victoria Eugenie, the English Princess, who is the true heroine of this romance and perhaps hear from her own lips the story ofthe beautiful prophesy of her father, now long dead, that one day she should come to Spain and be very, very happy. Perchance, indeed, some favoured ones may be shown the Spanish fan he sent her from Seville and which is to-day her most treasured possession. Above all, I would wish that all might spend a morning such as I spent in the Casa de Campo with the little Princes, playing in the sand, splashing water and eating strawberries plucked by these dear, little, Royal hands and carry away a pure white rose, selected and plucked by him who will one day, God willing, be King Alfonso XIV of Spain.
“The most beautiful Queen on any throne,” she was called when first she became Empress of all the Russias. She still is tall and stately, her hair is luxuriant and rich in colour. Eyes that some call blue and some call grey look out through long, dark lashes, and in them lies a great sadness, an appealing wistfulness touched with regret, a silent melancholy betraying soul tragedy. Yet as a child she was known as “Sunny.”
The life story of “Sunny” has never before been comprehensively told in English. This is curious, because there probably is not a person in the whole world who would not like to hear the wonderful romance of how a poor little German Princess became a great Sovereign, the co-ruler of one of the vastest empires on earth, the mistress of a fabulously rich and bewilderingly extravagant court, and with opportunity for becoming the most powerful woman in Europe. “Sunny” was the childhood nickname ofthis little Princess, and after the hardships and vicissitudes of a quiet girlhood, where there was a constant struggle to maintain appearances, she was courted by a wayward gallant who was heir to a mighty crown. “Sunny” lost her heart to the Royal wooer, and he, putting aside the less noble loves of his reckless, youthful days, pledged himself to her—persistently courted her against wide opposition—turned a deaf ear to the councils of Emperors and Queens who tried to discourage the match, and after years of battling with diplomatic intrigue and personal restraint he carried his purpose, married the German Princess who was truly the bride of his heart, and in marrying her raised her from the obscurity and poverty of her own simple home to the exalted rank of Empress. This is the true story of Princess Alix of Hesse whom Nicholas II made Tsaritsa of Russia!
There is something tremendously dramatic about this little German Princess stepping out of the quiet of her Darmstadt home into the arena of world affairs, and taking her position as Empress over one hundred and forty millions of people. Yet, of her life, almost nothing is known by the world at large.
No woman of modern times has had such marvellous opportunities for the exercise of personal influence and power. Yet who knows her? I had seen her in St. Petersburg, I knew men and women of the Court who had told me things about her from time to time. But I felt less acquainted with her life than that of any sovereign in Europe. I turnedto the magazine and newspaper files of the last fifteen years and I was amazed at the meagreness of information concerning her. I made diligent inquiry among people who frequently are veritable mines of gossip and stories concerning Royal personages, but scarcely a thing could I gather concerning the Tsaritsa who in many ways occupies the most unique position of any woman in the world. When I set forth in all seriousness to learn of her from her childhood to the present time, to gather the details of her charming romance and the story how she became the wife of an Emperor, I found I must go far afield—overseas, to Germany, to Russia; I must seek my information from her courtiers, her ladies-in-waiting, her friends, princes and princesses of the realm, tutors of her children, servants in her palaces, officials of the Imperial Household. So I went. I talked with all these people and many more besides, and the story I set down here is the story of her life, as I have heard it piecemeal from the lips of those who have been closest to her during the years that she has occupied a position of world eminence.
The Tsaritsa is now thirty-nine years old. She was born at Darmstadt, Germany, June 6, 1872, and christened Princess Alix-Victoria-Helene-Louise-Beatrix. She was the youngest daughter of the Grand Duke and Duchess of Hesse and the Rhine. Her mother was Princess Alice of England, daughter of Queen Victoria.
Her sister, Princess Victoria, became the wifeof Louis of Battenberg; her sister Elizabeth became the wife of the Grand Duke Sergius of Russia, uncle of the present Tsar; while a third sister became Princess Henry of Prussia. Prince Henry is the brother of Emperor William of Germany, and he is the official head of the German Navy. The only living brother of these remarkable sisters eventually came into the title of Grand Duke of Hesse and the Rhine, which he holds to-day. Besides all these close connections with important Royalties, she was a niece of King Edward of England and cousin to innumerable lesser Royalties. After her marriage she became connected with the courts of Denmark and Greece.
The Dukes of Hesse were made Grand Dukes during the time of the Napoleonic wars and Grand Dukes they have remained to this day.
Thus Princess Alix has always had grand connections, but the duchy of Hesse and the Rhine was poor and as the Grand Duke, her father, was not even ruler of the Duchy, and possessed of only small financial resources, the family household was forced to accept a comparatively frugal régime. There are hundreds of girls in America to-day who have never felt the press of poverty as did Princess Alix through the early years of her life. The little Princess was taught to sew and to assist in home duties, not only because this was all part of the proper training of a princess, but because of necessity.
The simplicity of this home was like the simplicity of an ordinary German or English middle class home of to-day. In her letters to Queen Victoria, the mother of Princess Alix was wont to speak very freely of the straitened circumstances of the family. Some of the items and incidents mentioned in these letters can hardly be credited. For instance, in one letter the death of a cow is lamented—“because it will be so difficult to get another.” In another she sends thanks for some furniture. In another the summer holiday is discussed and frank acknowledgment made that they cannot afford to go to Sheveningen, the charming and fashionable Dutch watering resort a few miles from The Hague, because it is too costly, but they must be content with Blankenberghe which is treeless, dull and uninteresting, but more reasonable of price.
Princess Alix’s allowance of pocket money was twenty-five cents a week up to the time of her confirmation, when she received double that amount. Alix was the youngest born of the Grand Duke and Duchess and was called “Alix” because Queen Victoria had always been annoyed at the way Germans pronounced Alice. And so at her suggestion Alice was changed to Alix to simplify it for the people of her own country. “Alicky” she was frequently called by her mother, but the neighbours and friends of the family early came to call her the “Little Princess Sonnenschein,” and from this came the name of endearment which she carried for so long—“Sunny.”
“Baby is a sweet, merry little person, like Ella (her sister), but her features are smaller,” her mother once wrote to Queen Victoria, “and her eyes are darker, and she has very long lashes and auburn hair. She is always laughing, and with a deep dimple in one cheek just like Ernie.” (Ernie was her brother who is now Grand Duke of Hesse and the Rhine.) On another occasion her mother wrote: “She is indeed the personification of her nickname ‘Sunny.’”During all this time Empress dreams were far off, and the big world with its infinite possibilities, its large joys and burden of days, but visions of twilight hours. When she was only six years old her mother died. This was the first deep shadow of her life, and from that time on she carried little responsibilities that tended to weigh upon her, to drive her more and more into herself, and perhaps to plant the seeds of moroseness which some say is now a quality of her character. At twelve the True Romance of her life came to her.
Princess Elizabeth, the older sister of Alix, had been courted by Grand Duke Sergius, of Russia, an uncle of the present Tsar and brother of the then reigning Emperor. In 1884 Sergius came to Darmstadt for his bride, and young Nicholas was of the Royal party. Nicholas here met Princess Alix for the first time and in her saw his future bride—the future Empress of his country. Nicholas, though nearly four years older than she,was only sixteen, but sometimes hearts can choose their own at sixteen as surely as in later years, and if love has since been the dominant element in the family life of this royal couple, it entered in, there in Darmstadt at this early time.