KING AND PRESIDENT MEET
An Historic Gathering--In which King and President, Joffre
and Haig Take Part--His Majesty and the Little French
Girl--I Am Permitted to Film the King and His Distinguished
Guests--A Visit to the King of the Belgians--A Cross-Channel
Journey--And Home.
I heard that night that the King was going to meet M. Poincaré, the
French President, at the house of Sir Douglas Haig, and very possibly
General Joffre might be there, as well.
In the morning there was an excellent light, the sun was blazing; and at
9 a.m. sharp we started off, the royal car leading. By cutting across
country I was able to save a considerable distance as I wished to get
there first, in order to film the arrival.
The château was a typical French one, not very large, but situated in a
charming spot, seemingly miles away from such a thing as war. Everything
was as peaceful indeed as if we were at home in the midst of the
beautiful Surrey Hills.
Yet in this scene of profound peace the rulers of England and France,
with the leading Generals, were meeting to discuss the future policy of
the greatest and most bloody war of all time.
I took my stand on a grass patch in a position that commanded views of
both the main gates and the entrance to the house. Lining the drive from
the main gates were men of Sir Douglas Haig's regiment, the 17th
Lancers, standing to attention, their lance points glistening in the
sun.
The sentries at the gates came smartly to the salute as the royal car,
in which were the King and Sir Douglas Haig, drew up. I started turning
as he entered the gates. At that moment a little French girl ran out
with a bunch of flowers and presented them to the King, who, smiling,
stopped and patted her cheek, passed a remark to Sir Douglas, and then
proceeded down the lines of troops, and entered the house, the Prince of
Wales following close behind.
Shortly afterwards a signal was given. His Majesty and Sir Douglas came
down the steps and reached the gates as the car, bringing M. Poincaré,
the French President, and General Joffre, drew up. What a scene it would
make.
M. Poincaré came first, and was warmly greeted by the King. He was
immediately followed by General Joffre, and an incident then occurred
which took "Papa" Joffre unawares. For the moment he was perplexed. The
same little French maid ran out with another bunch of flowers and
offered them to the General.
"No, no," he said, "not for me, give them to the President."
But the child thought otherwise. She intended that Papa Joffre, the idol
of France, should have them. He must have them. But no; the General,
taking the child gently by the arm, led her to where M. Poincaré was
speaking to the King and Sir Douglas Haig, and drew their attention to
the child. They all smiled, and were greatly amused by the incident.
Then the little one gave her flowers to the President, who taking them,
stooped and kissed her forehead, and the little one satisfied with her
success ran away.
The President, not knowing what to do with the flowers, looked around
for an officer to take them to his car, but General Joffre, anticipating
the desire, called up his A.D.C. who took them away. The party then
moved into the house. General Foch also entered with the Prince of
Wales.
After the lunch and conference, word was sent in to Colonel Wigram who
endeavoured to persuade the King and M. Poincaré to pose for a short
scene on the balcony. Word came back that they would do so.
To fix my camera up on the balcony was the work of only a few seconds.
The King came out through the French window, followed by M. Poincaré.
They were both smiling and seemed to be very interested in the coming
experience.
"Where do we go?" said the King.
"Would your Majesty stand over there?" I said, pointing to one end of
the terrace. They stood there side by side, King and President laughing
and chatting. While I turned on them, General Joffre came out.
"Come along, Joffre, you stand here," said His Majesty, "and you there,"
he said laughingly to General Foch. Sir Douglas Haig then came out and
stood at the end of the line.
For fully a minute they stood there, making a scene, the like of which I
had never dreamed.
King, and President, and Generals, who held in their hands the destiny
of the world. I continued turning, until His Majesty, thinking I had
enough, withdrew, laughing and chatting by the camera, followed by
General Joffre, Sir Douglas Haig, and General Foch.
By this time my spool had run out, so quickly changing I got round to
the front of the house to film the royal party leaving.
After they had all gone, I heard that Mr. Lloyd George was on his way up
from Paris. How late he was, one officer was saying: "We expected him
before this." Hearing that I decided to wait. About half an hour later,
up he came in a great hurry, and I just managed to film him as he left
his car and entered the building.
To-day was Sunday. His Majesty attended Divine Service with some of the
troops stationed near by, in a small country church perched high up on
the hill-side. Quiet and contentment pervaded everything; not even the
sound of a gun was heard.
A visit to His Majesty, King Albert of Belgium, was the next item on the
programme.
The King and Prince of Wales and their suite entered their respective
cars and, amidst the cheers of the civilian populace, we left the
village on the hill. The red and gold of the little Royal Standard on
the King's car glittered bright in the morning sun.
Away we went. How my old "bus" did go; every ounce was being obtained
from it; she fairly rocked and roared on the tails of the high-power
machines ahead. I knew the road only too well; many a time in the early
part of the war had I traversed it, and passed through these self-same
gates.
On we tore to where, in an unostentatious little villa, lived the King
and Queen of the Belgians.
By the time I arrived King George had alighted, and the Belgian Guard of
Honour was playing the national hymn. I hurried through the villa gates,
ignoring the guards stationed there who tried to hinder me. I wanted to
film the meeting. But I was too late, for by the time I had my machine
on the stand the two Kings had passed along the line of troops, crossed
the sand-dunes and entered the villa. I had unfortunately missed the
meeting by a few minutes, but I vowed I wouldn't move far away from them
during the afternoon. I heard that after lunch King George, assisted by
Prince Alexander of Teck, was going to award decorations and medals to
Belgian officers, and during the afternoon I obtained many good scenes.
The Queen was there, and with her the two Princes and little Princess
Josephine. They were all most interested in the proceedings.
I filmed the King visiting a 6-inch Howitzer Battery. I noticed
specially how keen he was in enquiring about every little detail. Not a
single thing seemed to miss his eye, from the close examination of the
gun's breech, to inspecting the dug-outs of the men. He then left, and
knowing he was going to inspect the Canadians I hurried off in order to
get there ahead.
When I arrived the Canadian Generals and staff were there waiting. Here
I met many old friends of the St. Eloi battle and, curiously enough, it
was at this very spot that I filmed the scene of the Northumberland
Fusiliers, or Fighting Fifth, returning from battle, fagged out, but
happy.
General Burstall was there, and as soon as he saw me he came up and
said:
"Hullo, Malins, you here? Why I thought you would have been killed long
ago."
"No, sir," I said, "I don't think I am much of a corpse, though really
Brother Fritz has tried very hard to send me West."
"You must have a charmed life," he said. "Have you come to film our
show?"
"Yes," I replied. "The King will be along shortly. Ah! here he comes
now."
And down the road, stretching away in the distance, a line of cars came
tearing along in our direction. Everybody came to attention. I got ready
my camera. The King drew up, and from that moment, until he passed
through the camp, lined with thousands of cheering Canadians, I filmed
his every movement.
[Illustration: HER MAJESTY, THE QUEEN OF THE BELGIANS, TAKING A SNAP OF
ME AT WORK WHILE FILMING THE KING]
[Illustration: THE PRINCE OF WALES SPEAKING WITH BELGIAN OFFICERS AT LA
PANNE, BELGIUM]
The five days' continuous rush and tear was beginning to tell on me. I
was feeling fagged out. But to-morrow His Majesty was sailing again
for England. That night, through a member of the Headquarter Staff, I
enquired of Colonel Wigram if it was at all possible for me to accompany
the King on his boat across the Channel. It would make a most excellent
finish to my film, I pleaded, and it would show the people at home and
neutrals that the British Navy still held the seas secure, and that our
King could go on the seas where and when he liked, and to film His
Majesty on board, among his naval officers, what a splendid record to
hand down to posterity.
Colonel Wigram immediately saw the possibilities of such a finish, and
agreed to allow me to accompany them.
Very jubilant, I thanked him and promised to be at the boat by midday.
In my hurry and anxiety to obtain permission I had entirely forgotten to
enquire at which port the boat was sailing from--Calais or Boulogne. I
rushed back to find Colonel Wigram, but unluckily he had gone. I
enquired of the Intelligence officers present, but they did not know.
I therefore decided that the only thing to do was to start off early in
the morning and go to Boulogne, and then on to Calais, if the boat was
leaving from there.
Early next morning, with my kit, I rushed away to Boulogne, but on my
arrival I found out that the King was not leaving from there, but from
Calais. Off to Calais I went. How the time was going. Ill luck seemed to
dog me on the journey, for with a loud noise the back tyre burst. To
take it off and replace it with a new one was done in record time. Then
on again. How the old "bus" seemed to limp along.
"How many miles is she doing?" I asked the chauffeur.
"Nearly fifty to the hour, sir, can't get another ounce out of her. I
shouldn't be surprised if the engine fell out."
"Never mind, let her have it," I yelled.
Down the hills she rocked and swayed like a drunken thing. If there had
happened to be anything in the way--well, I don't know what would have
happened; but there would have been "some" mess! Anyway, nothing did
happen, and I arrived at the dock in due course. No, the boat had not
gone, but by the appearance of every one there, it was just on the point
of moving off. To get on to the quay I had to pass over a swing bridge;
a barrier was across it, and soldiers on duty were posted in order to
send all cars round, some distance down, over the next bridge. Knowing
that if I went there I should be too late, I yelled out to the man to
allow me to pass.
"No, sir," he said. "You must go the other way."
Well, what I said I don't know, but I certainly swore, and this
evidently impressed the fellow so much that he removed the barrier and
allowed me to pass. I literally tumbled out of the old "bus," and
shouting to L---- to bring along my tripod, I rushed to where the boat
was lying against the quay.
All the French, British, and Belgian officials were lined up, and the
King was shaking hands as a parting adieu. Whether it was right or not I
did not stop to think. I swept by and rushed up the gangway as the King
turned with a final salute.
So close a shave was it that I barely had time to screw my camera on the
stand ere the Prince of Wales saluted the King and went ashore. The
gangway was drawn away and, amid salutes from the officers and allied
representatives, the boat left the quay. I had filmed it all. Not an
incident had passed me.
The King with the Admiral in charge of the ship, entered the cabin, and
only then did I have a moment's respite to realise what a narrow squeak
I had had.
We were just leaving the harbour. The sea looked very choppy, and just
ahead were seven torpedo boats waiting to escort us across.
I went up on to the top deck, and obtained some very interesting scenes
of these boats taking up their positions around. Then the King came up
and mounted the bridge. How happy he looked! A King in every sense of
the word. Who, if they could see him now, could ever have any doubts as
to the issue of the war? I filmed him as he stood on the bridge. In
mid-channel the sea was getting rather rough, and to keep my feet, and
at the same time prevent the camera from being bowled overboard, was
rather a task, and this compelled me at times to call in the help of
some blue-jackets standing near by.
At last the white cliffs of old England hove in sight, and to make my
film-story complete I filmed the cliffs, with Dover Castle perched high
above like the grim watch-dog it is.
And then, as the boat drew into the harbour, I got near the gangway in
order to land first and film His Majesty as he came ashore. I managed to
do this, and entering the royal special (by which I was permitted to
travel) I reached Victoria in due course with what, in my humble
judgment, was one of the finest kinematograph records that could
possibly be obtained of an altogether memorable and historic journey.