CHAPTER II AN AUDIENCE OF KING PETER

At the New Konak—I sign His Majesty’s birthday-book—The audience-chamber—King Peter greets me, and we chat over cigarettes—My private audience—His Majesty and English capitalists—Great openings for British enterprise—The King gives me some instances of paying concerns, and tells me many interesting facts—His Majesty invites me to return.

As I drove into the wide gates of the New Konak one evening in November to have private audience of His Majesty King Peter of Servia, sentries saluted, idling detectives bowed, and the lines of blue-and-gold servants drawn up in the entrance all bent low with one accord. The royal palace is, indeed, well guarded.

In the large inner hall was a wide horseshoe staircase, which I ascended. On every hand was a regal splendour, all in excellent taste and all very new, for the palace built by King Milan has been renovated since 1903, when the former royal residence of such tragic memory was pulled down. Its site is now a pretty lawn.

At the head of the stairs the Royal Marechal, Colonel Tcholak-Antich, a young man in bright blue uniform and many decorations, met me. With the usual etiquette he told me his name, I told him mine, and we shook hands. Then he said, “His Majesty is anxious that you should sign his birthday book,” and he led me to the big council-chamber, where at the head of the table he opened a beautiful book, which I signed upon the proper page.

The Royal Palace, Belgrade: The Ballroom.

I was at once conducted to the audience-chamber, the double doors of which—to prevent eavesdroppers—were closed behind me, and I was left alone to await His Majesty. The room, of fine dimensions, seemed, under the myriad electric lamps, ablaze with gold. The beautiful gilt furniture showed well against the carpet of crushed-strawberry, the damask of the upholstery matching the carpet and being brocaded with gold. Several fine modern paintings were upon the walls, and in the centre of the magnificent apartment a large settee and several fine gilt chairs set against a big gilt Renaissance table.

Scarce had I time to glance at my surroundings when the long white folding-doors at the end of the room opened, and there entered a slim, alert figure in a dark blue military uniform—a keen, dark-eyed, grey-moustached man with a pleasant smile and hand outstretched—His Majesty.

I made my obeisance, and took the proffered hand. “Come,” said the King kindly in French, seating himself at the table, and motioning me to a chair opposite him. “Well,” he commenced, “you know I have lived in London, and I have heard of you, Monsieur N——,” and he went on to say some highly gratifying words concerning myself; then producing a big silver box of most excellent Servian cigarettes, gave me one, held the match for me, and also smoked himself. He was, I noticed, quick, smart, and shrewd, with both figure and bearing that greatly reminded me of Lord Roberts, his general’s dark undress uniform being relieved by one touch of colour, the crimson-and-white ribbon and white enamelled star of Karageorge.

Then, when we were comfortably settled, I explained to him my reasons for visiting the Balkans.

“You are very welcome here in Servia,” His Majesty said. “You have been kind enough to say generous things about our country. All we ask of you is not to flatter us—only inquire the truth for yourself. We Servians have our faults—all nations have. But it must be remembered that we are a young nation—like France was after the war of 1870. The Press of Europe have not been altogether fair to us, for very many false statements have been published regarding our people, and myself personally. But how could they be contradicted? We only wish the organs of the British Press would tell the truth regarding Servia. We have enemies—who has not? But our policy is one of peace, and our earnest endeavour is to develop the great resources of our country. Servia is, as you know, one of the richest mineral countries in Europe.”

“I presume your Majesty’s Government will grant concessions for the working of mines, or for other industrial enterprises?”

“Most readily. But only to responsible persons, who can show their earnestness and that capital is at their command. Of late we have had many concession-hunters here from various parts of Europe, but the majority have gone empty away because they were discovered to be mere speculators. No. Our urgent desire is that your British capitalists should come here and study matters for themselves.”

“I believe some mines are already being worked by foreign capital?” I remarked.

“Certainly—and very wealthy they are too. Take the Bor copper mine, for instance. I visited it myself this year. The 500-franc shares are now at 3000 francs, and the output will shortly be enormous. They have recently discovered in the workings traces that the ancient Romans had been there. It will, so experts say, be found to be one of the richest copper mines in Europe. Besides copper we have iron, coal, antimony, and even gold—all of which might, with great advantage, be exploited by English companies. We invite the English in preference, because I know that English commercial undertakings are, for the most part, solid and sound. You English always think well before you commence, and when you do commence you go straight on to success. Therefore any industrial enterprise, or any railways—which we want badly—that you may suggest to us on behalf of British capitalists shall have our most earnest consideration. That the country is in a settled state and is prospering is, I think, shown by our finances. Before 1903 there was constantly a deficit on the Budget. In 1903 we had over one million francs in excess of the estimates, in 1904 we had five millions, and in 1905 a little over four millions. Our engagements are regularly paid, and we have no floating debt.”

Royal Palace: Belgrade.

Principal Boulevard of Belgrade.

“And the future?”

“Ah! you want me to talk politics,” he laughed, raising his hand with the fine diamond upon it. “No. I make a rule never to do so. One of our chief faults in Servia is that we gossip too much upon politics. You have noticed that, I daresay, in the cafés, in the Legations, and elsewhere—eh? All we Servians are the same—in Montenegro, in Bosnia, and elsewhere. It is always so with a young nation. The future of Servia will, I fervently hope, be one of peace and prosperity. It shall be my most earnest endeavour to secure this for my people, so that Servia may prove to Europe that she does not now merit the hard things said of her in the past.”

His Majesty, after we had chatted about Florence, a city which I found he knew quite well, then told me a very interesting fact. “We have here, in Servia,” he said, “a most wonderful cure for rheumatism—the Ribarska Banya. I only tell you what happened personally to me. During the Russo-Turkish War I contracted acute rheumatism, and have been a martyr to it ever since. I visited every watering-place in Europe, but none of the so-called “cures” did me any good. Two years ago, with some reluctance, I went to Ribarska and took the cure, and from that moment I have never since been troubled. It was miraculous! With my own eyes I saw a poor woman wheeled there entirely crippled, and twenty days later I saw her commencing to walk. I would not have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes.”

For an hour and a half we chatted upon many things—of London, of Paris, of Rome, of Vienna—for His Majesty is essentially an up-to-date man of the world, as well as a monarch. Sincere and yet humorous, kindly and yet with a hauteur that well befits his military bearing, he struck me as a man well adapted to rule the Servian nation—a man who is thoroughly in earnest, and is doing his level best for the future of his nation. “We want no external troubles,” he declared to me. “We want to be allowed to progress.”

And when I took my leave His Majesty grasped my hand warmly, saying, “I hope, M’sieur N——, you will return to Servia often, and remember that whenever you are in Belgrade I shall always be happy to give you audience and have another chat with you. Bon soir.”

I bowed. The long white doors opened noiselessly by an unseen hand, and His Majesty was gone.

Next day an aide-de-camp brought me the autographed portrait which appears in these pages, together with a very kindly message from His Majesty.

Not only did I endeavour to learn the truth at the royal palace, but I went among the people in various towns in Servia, making inquiries, and I found on every hand that Servia was pleased and satisfied with her new ruler.

King Peter was born on July 11, 1844, at Belgrade. A son of the reigning Prince Alexander Karageorgevitch. Educated at Belgrade and Geneva, he went to St. Cyr in France, and afterwards, during the war of 1870, volunteered in the French army. In 1883 he married the Princess Zorka, eldest daughter of Prince Nicholas of Montenegro, with whom he led a very happy family life until her unfortunate death in 1890. For about ten years he lived in Montenegro, but after his wife’s death he went to Geneva for the education of his children. In Montenegro there is still great admiration for him among the people, who have always regarded him as one of the Serb princes.

There were four children, of whom three are still living, namely, the Crown Prince George, now aged 20; Princess Helene, aged 19; and Prince Alexander, aged 18. The Crown Prince after his studies in Geneva was admitted by order of the Tzar into the Noble Guard at St. Petersburg, and on the accession of his father left Russia to complete his studies in Servia. At the present time he is engaged in university studies, combined with his military ones. I had an opportunity of meeting him, and found him a very smart and intelligent young fellow. Legally he is now of age, and lately he represented his father at a great national festivity, and acquitted himself with complete success. He is greatly interested in all military questions, and is himself one of the best riders in the country.

His Royal Highness Prince George of Servia.

In his domestic circle the King is a model father, and his actions and views are designed to promote in every way a good family life among his people. He leaves politics to his Ministers, who are all of them highly responsible men, but greatly interests himself in sanitation, improvements in agriculture, the securing of a better standard of morality, and in all questions of religion—in fact, his chief aim is the advancement and well-being of his people, which, he is confident, cannot be attained without a strong religious belief.

Only a short time ago he was making a tour in the country when to him came the priests and authorities complaining that the people did not go to church. His Majesty’s reply to the priests was: “If the people do not come to you, you should go to them.”

From my own personal observation of His Majesty, I found him to be exceedingly active, both physically and mentally. Though sixty-two years of age, he may be seen every morning at five o’clock out riding in the environs of Belgrade, making inspections of military camps and often gossiping with and giving counsel to the lowliest peasants. Many are the amusing stories told of these encounters, for often the peasants are unaware that it is their sovereign. On one occasion, quite lately, he was speaking with a peasant who complained to him of misbehaviour of a subordinate functionary, and said, “The King ought to know it!” whereupon His Majesty replied, “Yes, I think so. I will certainly tell him.”

His Majesty told me himself that he does not believe in the old idea that “the King can do no wrong,” or that monarchs are only “par la grâce de Dieu.” He is of opinion that they should do everything to fulfil the second part of the formula, “by the will of the people,” and do their utmost for the people over whom they rule.

Without prejudice, and without bias, I have no hesitation in saying that Servia to-day is under a most beneficent régime, and it is hoped that her ruler, a splendid type of man and an up-to-date monarch, may be spared many years to realise the high aspirations which he has for the country that gave him birth.