ALFONSO XIII.

Manawatu Times, Volume LIII, Issue 6735, 11 October 1928, Page 12

ALFONSO XIII.

CONVERSATION IN CELLAR.

It is not every day of the week that one meets a king in a cellar. The only previous occasions on which I have to my knowledge como upon royalty in vaults have been distinctly less animated affairs—in the crypts of cathedrals and such places, literally stiff with kings and queens,, but all of them so to speak, confined to their apartments. Last Thursday's experience was different. I mot King Alfonso of Spain, very much alive, in a wine merchant's vaults under Charing Cross Railway Station, (writes Gerald Barry, in the London ‘Sunday Times’). Something of the gauntness of Spanish churches was mise en scene. We took the Spanisli midday Almucrzo. for which His Majesty asked’the English slang equivalent “Snack” someone said —hideous word!—bread and an occasional olive with a little Tipoepe (the dryesii and best of sherries) or a glass of Rioja blanca (a \tine of the Chablis type called out of compliment to the English taste for dry wines,, ‘ ‘ Dry England ’.’). Spain is always ready to compliment England, and the King himself, so English in many ways, is certainly not least ready. He likes England, and England likes him. .This man, who lives in a glaring palace in Madrid and looks at you out of eyes quite uncannily like those of Velasquez’s Philip IV., so that you are reminded of three hundred years of Spanish history when you look at him; who treats plots against bis life as though they were invitations to a house party; who plays a hard game of polo, and drives a car with a nerve that, if he were a citizen of this country, would frequently land him in front of the Bench—no wonder ho appeals to Englishmen! He is in the middle forties, but he looks like thirty-five, with a keen athletic figure and a fund of vitality. He gives one the impression of job, tedious though it must often bo. It so happened thatr the English newspapers that morning had reported the discovery of a plot against him; it was rumoured that an attempt was intended on his life when he goes to open the new trans-Pyrenean railway in .a few days’ time. This news had naturally turned minds toward the Somport Pass, the opening of the line through which. will mark the first artificial break in the great mountain barrier betvyeen Prance and Spain, and will bring Madrid two hours nearer the frontier. I remember, three years ago. winding up the road over this pass, while the blasting of the tunnels was disturbing, the .peace of the large Aragon day. 1 recalled the ambitious station at Canfranc, which was even then in being, figuring proudly on the local picture postcards. I asked the King what difference the new railway will make,, remarking that .the existing road was extremely steep and tortuous. . “Only local improvements,” ho answered; “Hr will bring Madrid nearer the. French frontier, it is true, but not so much nearer Paris. That, is what matters. But as for the roads, the Somport Pass is difficult I know; wo cannot remove mountains. In England you have no mountains. Bat one of the great improvements that the tourist will shortly notice in. Spain are the new roads we aro now making all over the peninsula. They will rival the best roads of England, but with these ad vantages”—this with a twinkle, which reminded us again of his reputation for scorching—“there are few villages little traffic, and no speed traps!” Drinking the wine of the country, it was natural that we should discuss it. Of this subject the King proved himself. a master. Obviously a connoisseur was speaking, and ,ho spoke with pride, but also vyith complete frankness of tbe points in which Spain can-' not, in vinous matters, pretend to compete with Prance. British tariffs in favour of Empire wines, he said, are hitting the Spanisli wine trade. “But”—with a laugh—“hince Prohibition began in America, the imports of Spanish wine into the United States have increased!” “What fun,” he added, “to be a bootlegger!” Actually, of course, the Spanish people’s greatest Ambassador is King Alfonso himself. No one in Spain works harder for his country’s good than this laughing, nonchalant man. The Spanish people know this, too. He is as popular there as he is here. There are constant fears of plots against him in Spain, but that does not mean that the country is opposed to him. There is always a minority opposed to authority, and in Spain, being a hot country, this minority ia usually hot-headed. But whenever Alfonso passes through tlio streets of Madrid, its citizens flock to cheer him. When I watched his reception by the common people last October, as ho went to open the Spanish Assembly, I realised where lay the real affections of Spain. If they aro ever so foolish o.s to dispose of their monarch they will have lost their best friend.