AT THE ENGLISH COURT
In proportion as my works found consideration in the most obscure parts
of the Old and of the New World, their effect in Europe was felt even in
the highest Government circles, and it is not surprising that the
travelling staff and the pen brought the obscure author into contact
with sovereigns and princes. In England, where, in spite of the strict
rules of Court etiquette, the genealogical relations of the self-made
man are not considered of such great importance, my ardent defence of
British interests could not be overlooked.
After the appearance of my book, _The Coming Struggle for India_, I was
invited by Queen Victoria, whom I had already met on the occasion of my
stay at Sandringham with the Prince of Wales, to visit her at Windsor,
and the reception this rare sovereign accorded me was as great a
surprise to the world in general as it was to me.
It was in the year 1889, on the occasion of my stay in London, that I
received a card bearing the following invitation.--
THE LORD STEWARD
has received her Majesty's command to invite
PROFESSOR VAMBÉRY
to dinner at Windsor Castle on Monday, the 6th
May, and to remain until the following day.
WINDSOR CASTLE, _5th May_, 1889.
I had already been informed of the intended invitation by telegram, and
as, for political reasons, it was not thought wise to invite and do
honour to the anti-Russian author without further reason--it would have
seemed like a direct challenge to the Court at St. Petersburg--the
telegram bore the further message: "To see the library and the sights of
the Castle." When I read these words I reflected that if the Czar,
Alexander III., could receive and mark out for distinction the
pro-Russian author, Stead, without further ado, this excuse was almost
superfluous, and Queen Victoria could very well receive the
representative of the opposite party. However, I paid no further heed to
these needless precautions, but went down to Windsor. A royal carriage
awaited me at the station, and I drove to the Castle, where I was
received by the Lord Steward, Sir Henry Ponsonby, an amiable and
noble-minded man, who greeted me warmly and conducted me to the
apartment prepared for me. I had hardly got rid of the dust of the
journey when Sir Henry Ponsonby re-entered the room and, according to
the custom at Court, brought me the royal birthday book, requesting me
to enter my name, with the day and year of my birth.
It was a noble company in whose ranks my name was to figure, for the
book was full of signatures of crowned heads, princes, great artists,
learned men, and noted soldiers of the day. As I prepared to comply with
the request the uncertainty of the date of my birth suddenly occurred to
me, and as I gazed hesitatingly before me Sir Henry asked me with a
pleasant smile the reason of my embarrassment.
"Sir," I said, "I do not know the exact date of my birth, and I should
not like to enter a lie in the royal book."
When I had told him the circumstances written on the first page of these
Memoirs he took me by the hand, remarking pleasantly, "You need not be
ashamed of that. Her Majesty lays less weight upon the birth of her
guests than upon their actions and merits."
So I entered the conventional date of the 19th of March, 1832, and am
quite sure that among the many guests at Windsor there was never another
to whom the day and year of his entry into this world were unknown.
With the exception of this rather unpleasant, but otherwise comical,
episode my stay at Windsor was a most pleasant one. The Court officials,
whose acquaintance I made at lunch, vied with each other in their
amiability to the foreign defender of British interests in Asia, and
this was especially the case among the military officers, who soon
struck up a political conversation with me. An Englishman, be he
courtier, soldier, or an ordinary mortal, speaks unreservedly of his
political opinions without any consideration for the party in office,
and I was much surprised to hear one of the higher Court officials, an
ardent admirer of Mr. Gladstone, speak in very sharp terms of the
politics of the Conservative, Lord Salisbury, even drawing me into the
criticism.
My apartments were in one of the round towers of the Castle, so full of
historical memories, and as I gazed at the lovely landscape, with the
Thames winding in and out among the trees, and remembered the ideas I
had formed of this royal castle when I read Shakespeare, I was deeply
moved at the wonderful change in my position. If some one had told me in
the days gone by that I, who was then living in the poorest
circumstances, and even suffering hunger, should one day be the honoured
guest of the Queen of England and Empress of India at Windsor, that men
in high position would lead me through the ancient halls, show me the
royal treasures, and that I should sit next but two to the Queen at
table, I should, in spite of my lively imagination, have thought him a
fool and have laughed in his face. The crown jewels never dazzled me to
such an extent as to force me to worship their wearer. But every one
must agree that the natural simplicity of Queen Victoria's manner, her
rare amiability and kindness of heart, and the way in which she knew how
to honour Art and Science, had a most fascinating effect on those who
came into contact with her. It is a great mistake to imagine that this
princess, placed at the head of the monarchical republic, as England may
be called on account of its constitution, was only the symbolical leader
of the mighty State, having no influence on its wonderful machinery.
Queen Victoria had a remarkable memory; she knew the ins and outs of
every question, took a lively interest in everything, and in spite of
her earnest mien and conversation, sparks of wit often lighted up the
seemingly cold surface and reminded one of the fact that she was a
talented princess and a clever, sensible woman.
Queen Victoria has often erroneously been depicted as a woman cold in
manner, reserved, and of a gloomy nature, who, with her carefully worded
questions and answers made a rather unfavourable impression on her
visitor. This idea is quite incorrect. She certainly was a little
reserved at first, but as soon as her clever brain had formed an opinion
as to the character and disposition of the stranger, her seeming
coldness was cast aside, and was replaced by a charming graciousness of
manner, and she warmed to her subject as her interest in it grew.
When, at Sandringham, I had the honour of walking in the park next to
her little carriage drawn by two donkeys, she seemed at first to be
paying scant attention to my conversation with the gentleman-in-waiting
who accompanied us, but when I began to speak about my adventures and
experiences in Central Asia, her interest visibly increased, and she
made inquiries as to the smallest details. What most surprised me was
that she not only retained all the strange Oriental names, but
pronounced them quite correctly, a rare thing in a European, especially
in a lady; she even remembered the features and peculiarities of the
various Asiatics who had visited her Court, and the opinions she formed
were always correct.
One evening, I think it was at Sandringham, she conversed with me for a
long time about the East, chiefly about Turkey. She remembered all the
Turkish ambassadors of half a century, and after having spoken for some
time about Fuad Pasha, I took courage, and asked her if the following
anecdote which I had often heard in the East were true:--
"They say," I began, "that during one of his missions to the English
Court, Fuad Pasha brought your Majesty a beautiful brooch as a present
from the Sultan, Abdul Medjid, and that some years afterwards your
Majesty had a pair of earrings made of it. When on another mission Fuad
Pasha saw and admired the earrings, your Majesty is said to have
remarked: 'N'est ce pas, sa Majesté le Sultan sera bien faché
d'entendre, que j'ai gâté la broche dont il m'a fait cadeau?' Fuad Pasha
is said to have given the following witty answer: 'Au contraire, Madame,
mon souverain sera enchanté d'entendre que votre Majesté prête l'oreille
à tout ce qui vient de sa part.'"
The Queen listened silently, then remarked--
"It is a pretty story, but it is not true."
I found that this princess had more sense of the importance of
strengthening British power in Asia, than many of her noted ministers;
and the Shah of Persia, on the occasion of his visit to Budapest, told
me astonishing stories of the Queen's familiarity with Oriental affairs.
I was not a little surprised when she, at the age of seventy, told me of
her studies in Hindustani, and showed me her written exercises in that
tongue. The two Indian servants, with their enormous turbans and wide
garments, who waited on the Queen at table and accompanied her on her
excursions, were a living proof of the interest the Empress of India
took in the establishment of British power in Asia; and when I saw with
what devotion and respect these long-bearded Asiatics waited on a woman,
and what is more, a _Christian_ woman, handing her food and drink, and
watching for the least sign from her, I could hardly refrain from
expressing my admiration. The knowledge that the most powerful sovereign
in the world, who guides the destinies of nearly four hundred million
human beings, stands before you in the form of a modest, unassuming
woman is overwhelming. And when I saw in the Royal Library at Windsor
the numerous addresses and Presentations, and assurances of devotion
from the Emir of Afghanistan and other Asiatic potentates, written on
scrolls of parchment in large golden letters, or when I admired the
crowns, sceptres, and Oriental arms, preserved in the Royal Treasury at
Windsor, I could never tire in my admiration of the power and greatness
of Britain.
Discretion forbids me to say more of Queen Victoria, and I will only add
that the graciousness with which she received me, and the words in which
she acknowledged my literary efforts on England's behalf, will always be
more precious to me than all the orders and treasures with which
sovereigns think to have repaid the author.
After the Queen's death in 1901 her successor, Edward VII., showed me
many marks of favour. I had made his acquaintance (as I remarked on p.
248) in 1865, and during all the time he was Prince of Wales he never
missed an opportunity of showing his appreciation of my literary
efforts. Of all the monarchs of Europe and Asia not one has visited and
studied other countries and nationalities of the Old and of the New
World as he has done; consequently he is very capable of leading the
politics of the giant kingdom he rules over. When, in the course of
conversation with him, I touched upon the situation in Turkey, Persia or
India, I found him quite familiar with all these subjects, and his
opinion was never influenced by differences in race or in religion.
Having noticed during his visit to Budapest that the Hungarian
aristocracy did not pay the same honour to the man of letters as was
done in London, he gave an evening party, and appeared in the
drawing-room arm in arm with the present writer, whom he introduced to
the assembled guests as "My friend, Professor Vambéry!"
King Edward is at once a clever writer and a good orator, as is proved
by the book entitled, _Speeches and Addresses of H. R. H. The Prince of
Wales_, 1863-1888, London, 1889. When I visited him in 1901, shortly
after his accession to the throne, I found, greatly to my satisfaction,
that the possession of a crown had caused no change in his character. He
was as amiable as before, and begged me to visit him as often as I came
to England. He also proved his nobleness of mind on the occasion of my
seventieth birthday, when I received the following telegram from the
King's private secretary, Lord Francis Knollys: "The King commands me to
send you his warmest congratulations on the seventieth anniversary of
your birthday."
A few days later I received the following communication.--
"MARLBOROUGH HOUSE,
"PALL MALL, S. W.,
"_March 18, 1902._
"Dear PROFESSOR VAMBÉRY,--I am commanded by the King to inform you,
that he has much pleasure in conferring upon you the third class
(Commander) of the Victorian Order on your 70th birthday, as a mark
of his appreciation of your having always proved so good and
constant a friend to England, and as a token of His Majesty's
personal regard towards you.
"I beg to remain, dear Professor Vambéry,
"Yours very faithfully,
"FRANCIS KNOLLYS."
This proof of royal favour naturally caused a sensation abroad, and also
at home, where Government had taken but scant notice of my festival, and
it was generally highly appreciated. As to why Hungary on this occasion
again tried to prove the truth of the adage that no man is a prophet in
his own country I have spoken in another part of this book.
All I wish to prove now is that King Edward VII. has always shown a
lively appreciation of literary efforts and aspirations, and in spite of
his exalted position does not allow himself to be influenced by
difference in rank or religion. Directly after his accession he
requested the representatives of foreign powers in London to introduce
to him all the foreign artists and authors who might come to London, as
he wished to make their acquaintance. Thus he proves himself to be a
true son of liberal Albion, and filled with the democratic spirit of our
century.
As though to prove the truth of the proverb, "The fruit never falls far
from the tree," the present Prince of Wales distinguishes himself in the
same way, and by his amiability he has already won all hearts. At the
time of my visit to Sandringham I lived in the apartments of the late
Duke of Clarence, who was absent at the time, and thus I became the
neighbour of Prince George, as he was then called. One afternoon, while
I was occupied with my correspondence, I received an invitation from the
Queen to join her in the garden; as I wished to wash my hands before
going down I rang several times for warm water, but no one came. At
length the young Prince came to my door, and asked me what I wanted. I
told him, and he disappeared, returning in a few minutes with a large
jug in his hand, which he placed, smiling, on my washstand.
Not at all bad, I thought, for the poor Jewish beggar-student of former
years to be waited upon by a Prince! I have often laughed at the
recollection of this incident, and have since dubbed the future
sovereign of Great Britain, "The Royal Jug-bearer."
The King's other children also resemble him in this respect, and I
often think of the following episode. One evening, at Sandringham, a
gala-dinner was given in honour of Queen Victoria, and I was to take
Princess Louise in to dinner; the Prince of Wales, now Edward VII., took
a glance at the assembled guests, then approached me, saying: "Vambéry,
why did you not put on orders?"
I was just going to make some excuse when the Princess (the present
Duchess of Fife) remarked: "Why, Papa, Professor Vambéry ought to have
pinned some of his books on to his coat; they would be the most suitable
decorations."
It was a thoroughly democratic spirit which reigned in the home of the
present King when he was Prince of Wales--a spirit which he has
introduced into Buckingham Palace to the no small anger of many
narrow-minded aristocrats. King Edward VII. understands the spirit of
his times better than many of his brother sovereigns, and his popularity
in England and America is a very natural result.
My Intercourse with Sultan Abdul Hamid