Queen into Pantheon

Oh, dewy was the morning

Upon the first of May,

And Dewey was the Admiral

Out in Manila Bay;

And dewy were the Regent's eyes-

Them orbs of royal blue-

And do we feel discouraged?

I do not think we do.

--Popular U. S. gloat of 1898.

Death closed, last week, "them orbs of royal blue." They were the eyes of Her Majesty the Queen-Mother Maria Christina. During the Spanish-American War she was Regent of Spain for her stripling son, the present sprightly King Alfonso XIII. Surely all U. S. gentlefolk who ever gloated over the U. S. defeat of Regent Christina's forces must feel a little sheepish as they view again her picture (see cut). Spaniards know that Queen Christina combined the majesty and mass of a Roman Emperor with the devout, portly sweetness of a Mother Abbess.

Very merrily the Spanish Royal Family watched a comic cinema, last week, in the Palado Real at Madrid, a few hours before Death came. Their good humor was increased by the prospective arrival, on the morrow, of King Christian and Queen Alexandrine of Denmark. There would be fetes, galas and good cheer-for Danes are the wittiest and most light-hearted of Scandinavians. The eyes of the Spanish Infantas would sparkle as they trotted to jazz strains in the arms of blond courtiers from Copenhagen. And as the counterpoise, the pivot of all this gayety, there would be the Queen Mother. She seemed in excellent health and spirits as she rose after the royal movie show, and moved (between two dowager ladies-in-waiting) majestically off to bed.

Sudden pains came, and the Queen Mother tossed restlessly. Midnight tolled. Maria Christina grew pale, livid, and drops of sweat stood on her brow. She had been stricken with angina pectoris--paroxysms of the heart. Hot applications slightly eased the paroxysms, but before a priest arrived, at 2 a. m., the Queen Mother was unconscious. Last rites were administered, though Maria Christina knew it not, and she died at 3:30 a. m.

The sun rose and the luxe from Paris chuffed into Madrid with King Christian and Queen Alexandrine of Denmark, both attired in faultless mourning, which traveling Royalty must always carry "just in case."

Presently the dead Queen was laid out in the Chapel Royal, garbed in the simple robes of a nun. Thus it was recalled that Maria Christina was in her youth a member of an Austrian order, and used to plight her vows twelve months at a time to Jesus the Christ. She had intended to become permanently the Savior's bride, but in the nick of time King Alfonso XII of Spain arrived to seek a spouse at the court of her father's cousin, Emperor Franz Josef, and the young Prinzessin's destiny was altered.

Returning to Madrid with his bride, King Alfonso XII, who had been a childless widower, swiftly begot two daughters, but died in 1885 without knowing whether or not he had begotten a son. Three months passed. The elder daughter, Maria de las Mercedes, 5, was then a Queen-Babe under her mother's regency. Suddenly the royal physicians proclaimed, amid prodigious Spanish rejoicings, that the Queen Mother was certainly with child. Thereafter excitement was intense and betting unrestrained. Would it be a mere girl, or was there actually stirring in the royal widow a KING?

Three more weary months. The national curiosity grew positively scandalous. Then one day, in her easy Austrian fashion, Queen Maria Christina presented Spain with an unusual infant, probably the first man-child ever born a King.

Sixteen is the age of majority of an Infant of Spain. For 17 years Queen Maria Christina ruled as regent--bitter years. They witnessed the gradual ravishment from Spain of the last of her great overseas colonies. The U. S. snatched, or rather liberated, the Philippines, Porto Rico and Cuba from the Queen Regent. "Dewy were the Regent's eyes. . . ."

Last week, when Maria Christina had lain in state for two days, her corpse was taken for burial to a most splendrous place, called "The Dump." No Spaniard would approve this translation of Escorial; but it is literal, exact. Escorias means "refuse" and refers, in this instance, to the slag dumpings of an abandoned medieval iron-mine, not far from Madrid. Near this dump grew up a town, named after it Escorial; and near the town, centuries later, His Majesty Philip II, a gloomy king, built a vast Palace-Church-Monastery, also called Escorial--literally "The Dump."

The funeral train chuffed straight from Madrid to the station called Escorial de Abajo&$151;literally "The Lower Dump." Thence a stately hearse conveyed the coffin to the door of Escorial. In all Spain there is no structure so prodigious. Behind the great, frowning facade lie 16 patios (courtyards), upon which face 1,562 windows. Exactly 1,111 windows look out upon the world. Within, one may climb 86 staircases, open 1,200 doors, pray before 48 altars (not including the High Altar), and perambulate through some 100 miles of corridors. As the funeral cortege stood dwarfed before Escorial, last week, King Alfonso XIII was dry-eyed and grave, but Queen Victoria Eugenie wept. Their Majesties the King and Queen of Denmark did not attend the interment, remained in Madrid, inspected a Spanish regiment.

As the tall portals of Escorial slowly opened, the bier of Maria Christina was shouldered by the Hereditary Royal Huntsmen of Espinoza, who deftly presented it to the Esquires of Casa y Voca. They in turn passed it on to the pallbearers proper, a noble company of Grandees of Spain. Treading solemnly, the Grandees bore the coffin, still unsealed, to the threshold of the Basilica of the Escorial, a mighty church similar in design and scope to St. Peter's in Rome. There the Prior of the Monastery stopped the pallbearers by immemorial custom, and loudly demanded:

"Do you swear that this body, contained in this coffin, is that of the Queen Mother, Dona Maria Christina?"

As the question echoed the Grandees were silent, and so was His Majesty the King. Then forward stepped the Duke of Sotomayor, grizzled majordomo of the Queen Mother. Cried he: "I swear it!"

"Then let us," said the Prior, "proceed to seal the coffin."

When sealed, the simple mahogany box lined with lead was placed upon a catafalque. Splendrously a mass was sung. Then reverent hands lowered the Queen Mother to her last rest in the Panteon de los Reyes. There many a sovereign of Spain--including Maria Christina's husband, Alfonso XII--already, lay, each in a black marble sarcophagus lettered in gold. Into a similar sarcophagus went Maria Christina Henrietta Desiree Felicite Reniere de Espana.