When Rupert--I am told I must not write him down as "King Rupert" untilafter the formal crowning, which is ordained for Wednesday, October16th,--and Teuta had withdrawn, the Voivode Peter Vissarion, thePresident and Council conferred in committee with the Presidents of theHigh Courts of National Law and of Justice as to the formalities to beobserved in the crowning of the King, and of the formal notification tobe given to foreign Powers. These proceedings kept them far into thenight.
FROM "_The London Messenger_."
CORONATION FESTIVITIES OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.
(_From our Special Correspondent_.)
PLAZAC, _October_ 14, 1907.
As I sat down to a poorly-equipped luncheon-table on board theAustro-Orient liner _Franz Joseph_, I mourned in my heart (and I may sayincidentally in other portions of my internal economy) the comfort andgastronomic luxury of the King and Emperor Hotel at Trieste. A briefcomparison between the menus of to-day's lunch and yesterday's willafford to the reader a striking object-lesson:_Trieste_. _Steamer_.Eggs a la cocotte. Scrambled eggs on toast.Stewed chicken, with paprika. Cold chicken.Devilled slices of Westphalian Cold ham.ham (boiled in wine).Tunny fish, pickled. Bismarck herrings.Rice, burst in cream. Stewed apples.Guava jelly. Swiss cheese.Consequence: Yesterday I was well and happy, and looked forward to a goodnight's sleep, which came off. To-day I am dull and heavy, alsorestless, and I am convinced that at sleeping-time my liver will have itall its own way.
The journey to Ragusa, and thence to Plazac, is writ large with a pigmentof misery on at least one human heart. Let a silence fall upon it! Insuch wise only can Justice and Mercy join hands.
Plazac is a miserable place. There is not a decent hotel in it. It wasperhaps on this account that the new King, Rupert, had erected for thealleged convenience of his guests of the Press a series of largetemporary hotels, such as were in evidence at the St. Louis Exposition.Here each guest was given a room to himself, somewhat after the nature ofthe cribs in a Rowton house. From my first night in it I am able tospeak from experience of the sufferings of a prisoner of the third class.I am, however, bound to say that the dining and reception rooms were,though uncomfortably plain, adequate for temporary use. Happily we shallnot have to endure many more meals here, as to-morrow we all dine withthe King in the State House; and as the cuisine is under the control ofthat _cordon bleu_, Gaston de Faux Pas, who so long controlled thegastronomic (we might almost say Gastonomic) destinies of the Rois desDiamants in the Place Vendome, we may, I think, look forward to not goingto bed hungry. Indeed, the anticipations formed from a survey of ourmeagre sleeping accommodation were not realized at dinnertime to-night.To our intense astonishment, an excellent dinner was served, though, tobe sure, the cold dishes predominated (a thing I always find bad forone's liver). Just as we were finishing, the King (nominated) cameamongst us in quite an informal way, and, having bidden us a heartywelcome, asked that we should drink a glass of wine together. This wedid in an excellent (if rather sweet) glass of Cliquot '93. King Rupert(nominated) then asked us to resume our seats. He walked between thetables, now and again recognizing some journalistic friend whom he hadmet early in life in his days of adventure. The men spoken to seemedvastly pleased--with themselves probably. Pretty bad form of them, Icall it! For myself, I was glad I had not previously met him in the samecasual way, as it saved me from what I should have felt ahumiliation--the being patronized in that public way by a prospectiveKing who had not (in a Court sense) been born. The writer, who is byprofession a barrister-at-law, is satisfied at being himself a countygentleman and heir to an historic estate in the ancient county of Salop,which can boast a larger population than the Land of the Blue Mountains.
EDITORIAL NOTE.--We must ask our readers to pardon the report inyesterday's paper sent from Plazac. The writer was not on our regularstaff, but asked to be allowed to write the report, as he was a kinsmanof King Rupert of the Blue Mountains, and would therefore be in aposition to obtain special information and facilities of description"from inside," as he puts it. On reading the paper, we cabled hisrecall; we cabled also, in case he did not obey, to have his ejectmenteffected forthwith.
We have also cabled Mr. Mordred Booth, the well-known correspondent, whowas, to our knowledge, in Plazac for his own purposes, to send us full(and proper) details. We take it our readers will prefer a graphicaccount of the ceremony to a farrago of cheap menus, comments on his ownliver, and a belittling of an Englishman of such noble character andachievements that a rising nation has chosen him for their King, and onewhom our own nation loves to honour. We shall not, of course, mentionour abortive correspondent's name, unless compelled thereto by any futureutterance of his.
FROM "_The London Messenger_."
THE CORONATION OF KING RUPERT OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.
(_By our Special Correspondent_, _Mordred Booth_.)
PLAZAC, _October_ 17, 1907.
Plazac does not boast of a cathedral or any church of sufficientdimensions for a coronation ceremony on an adequate scale. It wastherefore decided by the National Council, with the consent of the King,that it should be held at the old church of St. Sava at Vissarion--theformer home of the Queen. Accordingly, arrangements had been made tobring thither on the warships on the morning of the coronation the wholeof the nation's guests. In St. Sava's the religious ceremony would takeplace, after which there would be a banquet in the Castle of Vissarion.The guests would then return on the warships to Plazac, where would beheld what is called here the "National Coronation."
In the Land of the Blue Mountains it was customary in the old days, whenthere were Kings, to have two ceremonies--one carried out by the officialhead of the national Church, the Greek Church; the other by the people ina ritual adopted by themselves, on much the same basis as the GermanicFolk-Moot. The Blue Mountains is a nation of strangely loyal tendencies.What was a thousand years ago is to be to-day--so far, of course, as ispossible under the altered condition of things.
The church of St. Sava is very old and very beautiful, built in themanner of old Greek churches, full of monuments of bygone worthies of theBlue Mountains. But, of course, neither it nor the ceremony held in itto-day can compare in splendour with certain other ceremonials--forinstance, the coronation of the penultimate Czar in Moscow, of AlfonsoXII. in Madrid, of Carlos I. in Lisbon.
The church was arranged much after the fashion of Westminster Abbey forthe coronation of King Edward VII., though, of course, not so manypersons present, nor so much individual splendour. Indeed, the number ofthose present, outside those officially concerned and the Press of theworld, was very few.
The most striking figure present--next to King Rupert, who is seven feethigh and a magnificent man--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat infront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite thethrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,with jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the uniquequality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colouraccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or thestars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These detailsshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off the attractive point was her dress.Surely never before did woman, be she Queen or peasant, wear such acostume on a festive occasion.
She was dressed in a white _Shroud_, and in that only. I had heardsomething of the story which goes behind that strange costume, and shalllater on send it to you. {2}
When the procession entered the church through the great western door,the national song of the Blue Mountains, "Guide our feet throughdarkness, O Jehovah," was sung by an unseen choir, in which the organ,supplemented by martial instruments, joined. The Archbishop was robed inreadiness before the altar, and close around him stood the Archimandritesof the four great monasteries. The Vladika stood in front of the Membersof the National Council. A little to one side of this body was a groupof high officials, Presidents of the Councils of National Law andJustice, the Chancellor, etc.--all in splendid robes of greatantiquity--the High Marshall of the Forces and the Lord high Admiral.
When all was ready for the ceremonial act of coronation, the Archbishopraised his hand, whereupon the music ceased. Turning around, so that hefaced the Queen, who thereon stood up, the King drew his handjar andsaluted her in Blue Mountain fashion--the point raised as high possible,and then dropped down till it almost touches the ground. Every man inthe church, ecclesiastics and all, wear the handjar, and, following theKing by the interval of a second, their weapons flashed out. There wassomething symbolic, as well as touching, in this truly royal salute, ledby the King. His handjar is a mighty blade, and held high in the handsof a man of his stature, it overtowered everything in the church. It wasan inspiriting sight. No one who saw will ever forget that nobleflashing of blades in the thousand-year-old salute . . .
The coronation was short, simple, and impressive. Rupert knelt whilstthe Archbishop, after a short, fervent prayer, placed on his head thebronze crown of the first King of the Blue Mountains, Peter. This washanded to him by the Vladika, to whom it was brought from the NationalTreasury by a procession of the high officers. A blessing of the newKing and his Queen Teuta concluded the ceremony. Rupert's first act onrising from his knees was to draw his handjar and salute his people.
After the ceremony in St. Sava, the procession was reformed, and took itsway to the Castle of Vissarion, which is some distance off across apicturesque creek, bounded on either side by noble cliffs of vast height.The King led the way, the Queen walking with him and holding his hand . .. The Castle of Vissarion is of great antiquity, and picturesque beyondbelief. I am sending later on, as a special article, a description of it. . .
The "Coronation Feast," as it was called on the menu, was held in theGreat Hall, which is of noble proportions. I enclose copy of the menu,as our readers may wish to know something of the details of such a feastin this part of the world.
One feature of the banquet was specially noticeable. As the NationalOfficials were guests of the King and Queen, they were waited on andserved by the King and Queen in person. The rest of the guests,including us of the Press, were served by the King's household, not theservants--none of that cult were visible--but by the ladies and gentlemenof the Court.
There was only one toast, and that was given by the King, all standing:"The Land of the Blue Mountains, and may we all do our duty to the Landwe love!" Before drinking, his mighty handjar flashed out again, and inan instant every table at which the Blue Mountaineers sat was ringed withflashing steel. I may add parenthetically that the handjar isessentially the national weapon. I do not know if the Blue Mountaineerstake it to bed with them, but they certainly wear it everywhere else.Its drawing seems to emphasize everything in national life . . .
We embarked again on the warships--one a huge, steel-plated Dreadnought,up to date in every particular, the other an armoured yacht most completein every way, and of unique speed. The King and Queen, the Lords of theCouncil, together with the various high ecclesiastics and greatofficials, went on the yacht, which the Lord High Admiral, a man ofremarkably masterful physiognomy, himself steered. The rest of thosepresent at the Coronation came on the warship. The latter went fast, butthe yacht showed her heels all the way. However, the King's party waitedin the dock in the Blue Mouth. From this a new cable-line took us all tothe State House at Plazac. Here the procession was reformed, and woundits way to a bare hill in the immediate vicinity. The King andQueen--the King still wearing the ancient bronze crown with which theArchbishop had invested him at St. Sava's--the Archbishop, the Vladika,and the four Archimandrites stood together at the top of the hill, theKing and Queen being, of course, in the front. A courteous younggentleman, to whom I had been accredited at the beginning of the day--allguests were so attended--explained to me that, as this was the nationalas opposed to the religious ceremony, the Vladika, who is the officialrepresentative of the laity, took command here. The ecclesiastics wereput prominently forward, simply out of courtesy, in obedience to the wishof the people, by whom they were all greatly beloved.
Then commenced another unique ceremony, which, indeed, might well find aplace in our Western countries. As far as ever we could see were massesof men roughly grouped, not in any uniform, but all in national costume,and armed only with the handjar. In the front of each of these groups orbodies stood the National Councillor for that district, distinguishableby his official robe and chain. There were in all seventeen of thesebodies. These were unequal in numbers, some of them predominatingenormously over others, as, indeed, might be expected in so mou
ntainous acountry. In all there were present, I was told, over a hundred thousandmen. So far as I can judge from long experience of looking at greatbodies of men, the estimate was a just one. I was a little surprised tosee so many, for the population of the Blue Mountains is never accreditedin books of geography as a large one. When I made inquiry as to how thefrontier guard was being for the time maintained, I was told: