PERSONALITIES

Southland Times, Issue 20225, 9 July 1927, Page 13 (Supplement)

PERSONALITIES

SUBVIVINGr HAPSBUBG (By TEdile.) The other day the cables reported a visit to England by King Alfonso XIII., of Spain. Quite possibly the king was anxious to see the tennis at Wimbledon —he is an enthusiastic player—but it is far more certain that while he is in England he will be actively interested in some matter connected with the welfare of his country, for King Alfonso, uniting within his veins the vivacious blood of the Bourbons with the sterner stuff of the Hapsburgs, is able to combine business with pleasure, and to find a lot of pleasure in the conduct of business. Spain’s king is unique in that he is the last of the Hapsburg monarchs, and he is the most successful of them in epite of the all too obvious fact that the country he rules is changing. Perhaps the Bourbon strain, which in history has displayed a capacity in trimming sails judiciously, has helped to massage the stiff neck of the other branch; but whatever it is King Alfonso ie credited with leading and directing his people rather than following in their train. It is generally accepted that he was privy to Primo de Rivera’s coup and even encouraged it as the only means by which the administration of public affairs could be cleaned up and strength restored to the nation. De Rivera was no Mussolini, but Alfonso was no Victor—Madrid was the scene of a king’s triumph as Rome saw a king’s defeat. In these facts lies the secret of King Alfonso’s place in Spain today, and the secret of de Rivera’s strength. From time to time news from interested sources refers to differences between the king and the head of the administration, but the obvious aim of these stories is to discredit de Rivera in the eyes of the Spanish people—the purpose and the method alike disclose the importance of the monarch.

King Alfonso has lived a life filled with excitement. He is now forty-one years of age and has been king of Spain for twentyfive years. Alfonso XII. had died of rapid consumption in his shooting lodge at El Pardo six months before, and only the hope of a male heir stood between Spain and civil war. Already the succession had cost the country three civil wars within a century’. It was in this perilous situation that the royal standard with the lions of Aragon and the castle of Castile was unfurled on the palace in Madrid on May 17, 1886, and the crowds waiting outside knew that a male heir had arrived. Within the granite palace the Duchesse de Medina de los Torres was issuing from the Queen Mother’s apartments carrying a puny infant wrapped in cotton wool and Senor Sagasta was presenting to the Councillors of State a King lying in a silver salver covered with a cushion, whose hope of life seemed fragile, indeed.

The Queen Mother, Dona Maria Christina, became Regent, and Sagasta and Canovas, leaders of the Liberals and Conservatives under the Constitution of 1876, concluded their truce aver the cradle of her son. Twenty-five years ago last Tuesday the ,regengy snded. On his sixteenth birthday the young Alfonso took the oath in the House of Deputies, before the assembled estates of his realm. There was no coronation, but none of the impressiveness of a coronation was lacking. Accompanied by the Queen Regent, he was met by a commission of Twelve Senators and twelve Deputies, who conducted him to the great throne. The President, after announcing that the Cortes had been summoned by the Queen Regent in order that the King might take the oath before them to keep the Constitution and the laws, held out a copy of the Gospels, upon which the King laid his right hand while pronouncing the solemn words of the oath: “I swear by God upon the Holy Gospels to keep the Constitution and the laws. If I do this, God reward me, and if I do not, may He call me to account.” Twenty-one guns roared a salute and the reign of Alfonso XIII in his own name and by his own authority had begun. Three times he was nearly called to account before he had been able to achieve much as monarch. A bomb was hurled at the carriage in which he was driving through Paris with President Loubet. Another bomb was thrown at himself and his English bride just after their marriage in Madrid. On a third occasion he wheeled his horse and himself rode down Sanchez Alegre, who was rushing at him in the street firing a revolver. There was a time when it seemed impossible that he could ever bring peace to a country so distracted with civil wars and pronunciamentos, but to-day those memories seem quite as remote as in fact they are. It is not easy to explain Alfonso’s success. He is popular, he is efficient, daring and actively engaged in ruling. No Spanish King has possessed so patiently that quality which in Spain endears a ruler to his subjects, that quality which the Spanish call “llaneza”—sincerity and familiarity combined; and this he has done despite a court which, if its King was determined to play tennis, would be quite capable of preferring to see him play it in field-marshal’s uniform with his sword rattling about his legs. Surrounded by the stiffest court in Europe, a court which far more than anything in Rome is the very ghost of the old Roman Empire, Don Alfonso has contrived to remain easily the most vivid personality among all the Kings of Europe. There was a time when he was popularly supposed to regard royalty as a romp and his conquistador’s moustache, when it was new, became a nine days’ rage in every capital on the Continent. His love of a joke was famous and as recently as last month he drenched the Prince of Wales at Seville by turning on the concealed jets called the burladores in the pathways of the Alcazar gardens. Thousands of tales were told of his love of sport, and perhaps one reason why he succeeded in gaining the affection of a nation of sport-lovers like the Spanish was because he could knock spots off most of its young grandees at polo, hunting, riding, shooting, fencing and tennis. He is the only King in Europe who risks his neck at polo and there may be about him a little of the smack of the days of chivalry when kings were puissant knights. Hie exploits as a highspeed motorist have long been famous. If he was not the first, he was at least one of the first kings in Europe to drive his own ear, and years ago the Hispano-Suiza Company is said to have told him that he could have a job as a racing driver any time he wanted it. There used to be an oft-repeated story of his having smashed his car against a tree outside Madrid one day. A Minister, following in another car, leaped out and ran forward to rebuke him for his reckless driving. “You mind your own business,” the young king is reported to have said. “If you attended to the affairs of the country as well as I attended to this car just now, Spain would have no need of a king.” One of Alfonso’s achievements in Spain is encouragement of sport. He has not put bull-fighting out of the ring, but he has never missed any opening which gave him the chance to encourage football and outdoor games calculated to take the mind of the people to more healthy interests. He has a large racing stable, 'a valuable stud, and in addition he is one of the most enthusiastic and most progressive of his country’s farmers. He is in fact a busy, active man, the chairman of a great and intri-

cate business which demands unremitting attention; but he has discovered that there are advantages in mixing work and play, and that is why he extracts such a great deal of joy out of life, despite his anxieties as a king and as a. family man.