SPAIN: Royal Week

Their Most Catholic Majesties continued merrily last week their informal visit to London, (TIME, July 12) took no part in the local Court mummery. (See COMMONWEALTH, “Royal Week”)

Polo. Alfonso XIII, 40, probably the only living sovereign young enough to ride a pirouetting polo pony, played back, one afternoon, for the polo team of the 65th Lancers against the 7th Hussars. With a potent swipe of the royal mallet he split a polo ball both halves of which rolled over the goal line. By that goal the Lancers won: 5—4.

Banquet. A formal luncheon at the British Foreign Office loomed finally, to divert their Spanish Majesties from too light hearted enjoyment. Though Foreign Secretary Sir Austen Chamberlain and his wife received all other guests at the head of the crimson carpeted Foreign Office stairway, they descended to the quadrangle as the purr of King Alfonso’s limousine was heard. His Majesty gave to Lady Chamberlain his arm. Her Majesty was escorted by lank, bemonacled Sir Austen. British Royalty, having previously entertained their Spanish Majesties at Buckingham was not present. All dined in the great room in which was signed the Treaty of Locarno, (TIME, Dec. 14, LEAGUE).

Spain. Speaking at a luncheon of the Spanish Club of London, interrupted repeatedly by shouts of “Long live the King!” King Alfonso said: “Things in Spain are going satisfactorily, which is proved by my presence here. Let’s be optimistic. We have been through plenty of dark days. The dawn is breaking. Spaniards must lay aside their political strife. That is my mission, namely, to find a common meeting ground so as to discover the means of developing our wonderful resources.

“Spain is a rich country from all points of view. The moment has arrived to advance toward our magnificent future—and that at lightning speed.”

Reports from Spain and France indicated that Dictator-P r e m i e r Primo de Rivera had stamped so vigorously upon the embers of the miltary revolt (TIME, July 5 et seq.) that he, too, was able to stamp off to Paris with no fears except for Paris hoodlums.