CHAPTER XXIV

THE KING AS A PHILANTHROPIST

One of the first occasions on which King Edward and Queen Alexandra appeared in support of a charitable institution was on 24th June 1863, when their Majesties opened the new buildings of the British Orphan Asylum at Slough. From that day forward both the King and Queen have unceasingly demonstrated their keen personal interest in every genuine form of charitable endeavour. It would be impossible to estimate the total sum of human misery and suffering which has been relieved as the direct result, not only of their Majesties’ own exertions, but also of the powerful example which they have consistently set before the wealthy and leisured classes. The mere catalogue of the charitable meetings and dinners at which the King has presided would occupy many pages of this book.

But His Majesty has never contented himself, as he might so easily have done, with allowing his own subscription and the fact of his patronage to open the purse-strings of the charitable public. The word “genuine” has been used above advisedly. The King has no sort of admiration for careless, slovenly charity, which often does more harm than good. Long ago he realised that to give money is not enough, but that it is a sacred duty to see that the money is expended to the best advantage and really reaches the persons for whom it is intended. Hence it is not surprising to find that His Majesty was from the first a strong supporter of the old Mendicity Society, and has continued to give his countenance to the Charity Organisation Society, which, in return, has been of the greatest service to him.

It will readily be understood that it is not so much the actual sums subscribed by His Majesty and his gracious Consort to a particular charity which are valued--though the aggregate amount which they have given away since their marriage represents a very large sum--but it is the guarantee afforded by the mere fact that their Majesties have subscribed at all. Great precautions are taken to prevent a Royal subscription from being given to a fraudulent or unworthy object, and that is no doubt why a comparatively small sum, perhaps only £50 or £100 from the King or Queen Alexandra, stimulates the generosity of the public to the extent of many thousands.

Charitable work, however, as those who have engaged in it know only too well, is only a palliative. By his active interest in the problem of the housing of the poor, which has been described in a previous chapter, the King has endeavoured to strike at one of the chief causes of vice and crime. We have seen that on various occasions His Majesty has made pointed observations regarding the provision of decent cottages for agricultural labourers, and there can be no doubt that the example he has set on his Sandringham estate has been of the greatest value. The King took the earliest opportunity after his accession, in his reply to the address presented by the London County Council, of emphasising his interest in the housing of urban populations also. It must not be forgotten that the question is, at any rate in some of its aspects, a political one, and the King has therefore been obliged to exercise all his well-known tact and discretion in dealing with it.

With regard to medical charities, the precise value of which is fortunately not a subject of political difference, the King has enjoyed practically a free hand. Twice in his life His Majesty has realised in his own person the incalculable benefits of skilled medical and surgical treatment and trained nursing, being indeed on the first occasion literally snatched from the jaws of death. Though the King’s active support of hospitals dates from an earlier time in his life, these experiences doubtless strengthened his keen desire to render the benefits which he had himself enjoyed available for the poorest classes of the community. Perhaps His Majesty’s interest in medical science dates from a visit which he paid when quite a boy to the great school, mainly for doctors’ sons, at Epsom. At any rate there can be no doubt about the steady development of that interest, which may be said to have culminated in “The Prince of Wales’s Hospital Fund for London,” established as a memorial of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee.

Probably only those who are concerned in the practical working of this fund have an adequate idea of the good which it has already done and will do in the future. It is not merely, as was erroneously supposed at first, a machine for collecting money which might as well be sent direct to individual hospitals. No one who appreciates the practical bent of the King’s mind could ever have believed that he would give his name to such a scheme as that.

The fundamental idea of the fund is the giving of personal service, the money collected being used as a means of raising the standard of work done in the various hospitals. Before the fund existed there was no regular systematic inspection of the London hospitals, which in consequence presented very varying degrees of efficiency, some institutions being admirably conducted, while in others the funds were to a greater or less extent frittered away owing to the lack of good business management. It never occurred to the great majority of business men to associate themselves in the practical work of hospital administration, though they subscribed most generously to the hospital funds. The King’s plan was to enlist the personal service of the most competent and representative business men, who should form, in conjunction with certain eminent physicians and surgeons, and a number of peers and members of Parliament of tried ability, a visiting committee to inspect thoroughly every London hospital. On the reports of this committee, grants from the fund were to be made immediately, or promised subject to conditions, or in extreme cases altogether withheld.

The moral effect of this ingenious scheme has been extraordinary. Not only have weak hospitals been brought into line, but the better-managed institutions have been improved, while as regards individuals the effect has been to encourage every competent hospital official and to minimise as far as possible the harm done by the incompetent. At first it was thought that the investigations of the visiting committee, which are necessarily extremely thorough, might be resented as inquisitorial and un-English, but the visiting committee found that the authorities of almost every institution were eager to afford all possible information. The income of the fund and the amount annually distributed show a steady increase, which has been greatly fostered by the Order of the League of Mercy instituted by the King in 1899. This decoration is bestowed only as a reward for special personal service in the cause of the hospitals. The hospital stamp, too, which brought in so much money to the fund, was, if not actually designed, at any rate suggested by His Majesty, the central figure being Sir Joshua Reynolds’s “Charity,” which is to be seen in the famous Reynolds window at New College, Oxford.

Perhaps the most often quoted observation ever uttered by the King is his famous saying about preventible diseases--“If preventible, why not prevented?” His Majesty is an eager supporter of every properly authorised medical discovery which promises to be of value to humanity in the alleviation of disease. For example, both the King and Queen Alexandra have taken the greatest interest in the “light treatment” for lupus introduced by Dr. Finsen, a Danish _savant_, which Her Majesty had installed at the London Hospital, and as we have seen His Majesty experienced in his own person the value of the Röntgen rays for purposes of diagnosis.

The King has long been deeply impressed with the ravages of consumption and other forms of tuberculosis, and when, comparatively recently, an association for the prevention of this terrible scourge was established, he not only became its president, but took an active part in its deliberations. Moreover, not long before the death of Queen Victoria he consented to preside at a great National Congress on Tuberculosis to be held in London in the course of 1901, and to be attended by delegates from all parts of the British Empire.

As far back as 1863 the King became a patron of the Brompton Hospital for Consumption, and in 1879 he laid the foundation-stone of the new wing by which its accommodation was largely increased. A few years afterwards he showed his continued interest in the same subject by presiding at a festival dinner in aid of the Royal Hospital for Diseases of the Chest, in the City Road, which brought in nearly £5000 to the funds of the hospital. Until comparatively lately, consumption was regarded as practically incurable, and it says much for the King’s clearheadedness and insight that he unhesitatingly placed himself at the head of the crusade against the disease. The historian of the future will reckon this as not the least of the services he has rendered to his people.

As may be imagined from the diversity of his interests, the King’s correspondence of late years rivalled that of Queen Victoria, and His Majesty is always eager to acknowledge the debt he owes to his private secretary, Sir Francis Knollys. The correspondence is reduced by the private secretary to three distinct sections--the private letters, the business letters, and the miscellaneous letters. Among the latter are those written by lunatics, begging-letter writers, and so on. The private letters are sent up to the King unopened, the others are all read through by Sir Francis and again subdivided, the larger section to be replied to in a formal and official way, the others to be submitted to the King before they are dealt with.

Some of His Majesty’s correspondents evidently have a touching belief in his power of righting wrong. They implore him to take up their cause when they are injured, and it may be stated that no _bona fida_ epistle was ever sent to the King without being answered, often with marvellous celerity, and ever with the greatest courtesy and kindness.

At Sandringham there is a post office inside the house for the use of the Royal Household, but at Marlborough House the huge letter-bags are sent over to the St. James’s Street post office at regular intervals throughout the day.

The King has long been a subscriber to the National Telephone Company, and he is said to spend over £1000 a year in telegrams alone, for the popular idea that Royalty’s letters are franked, and that parcels sent by them are forwarded free of cost, is a delusion.

Sir Francis Knollys’s duties as secretary are not confined to what are generally called secretarial duties. He has to act as his Royal master’s supplementary memory. He keeps the list of all the King’s engagements, and, what is a more arduous task, arranges every item of the Royal journeys. Princess Charles of Denmark is said to have once observed that she felt sure that if Sir Francis were suddenly awakened in the middle of the night and asked what were the King’s engagements eight days forward, he would immediately begin to recite the entire list.

Be that as it may, the position of Sir Francis Knollys is a very responsible one, and even his most intimate friends marvel how he can get through the enormous amount of work he has to do. Occasionally his labours are enormously increased, especially at times of public calamity or Royal mourning. During the Tranby Croft case well-intentioned folk all over the British Empire sent books and pamphlets pointing out the evils of gambling, and in most cases these were courteously and kindly acknowledged.

Sir Francis writes every important letter with his own hand, for typewriters have, so far, never been used in Royal correspondence. He has two assistant secretaries, who attend to the routine work, but even then many of the letters written by them are signed by him, and in all cases he looks them over and sees that they are as he would wish them to be. There is also a staff of clerks.

In 1865 His Majesty attended his first public dinner in his capacity as president of the Royal Literary Fund, and ever since he has taken the greatest interest in the unobtrusive work done by this institution in relieving distressing cases among those men and women of letters who have fallen on evil days.

The King is a warm friend of the coffee palace movement; in this connection it is interesting to recall the Alexandra Trust, founded by Sir Thomas Lipton at the instance of Queen Alexandra, for the purpose of supplying well-cooked and nourishing food to the populace at an inclusive charge of 4½d. It will be remembered that the King and Queen paid a surprise visit to the Alexandra Trust Restaurant in St. Luke’s, in the East End of London, on which occasion the various London papers circulated the most amusingly inconsistent stories of what their Majesties really ate. As a matter of fact they were satisfied with the ordinary poor man’s dinner, and were not entertained--as was alleged--by Sir Thomas Lipton with “chicken and champagne.” It was their Majesties’ great desire to be treated exactly as ordinary diners. But the Queen did break one rule--that which ordains that the metal check, received on payment of the 4½d., should be given up on leaving. The Queen insisted on keeping the disc, as she said to Sir Thomas Lipton, “as a memento of a delightful visit and a most enjoyable lunch.” Their Majesties remained for nearly two hours; they spoke to large numbers of working men and girls, and carefully inspected all the cooking arrangements, and it is recorded that the King chatted with the men’s bootblack in the basement. Sir Thomas Lipton’s comment was: “It was deeply touching to see the men’s devotion to the Princess; they almost worshipped her.”

The public are aware that, like his father, the late Prince Consort, the King takes a keen personal interest in exhibitions of all kinds, but it is not generally known that he himself suggested the Fisheries Exhibition, which was visited by 2,750,000 people, and which brought in £10,000 for the families of drowned or disabled fishermen. Altogether 16,000,000 people visited the four exhibitions over which His Majesty presided--the Fisheries, the Healtheries, the Inventories, and the Colinderies.

His Majesty has always been a great ally of the London cabby. Although the stables at Marlborough House are magnificently appointed, he frequently takes a hansom for his own amusement, always over-paying the driver. For years he has been patron of the Cabdrivers’ Benevolent Association, the funds of which he has done much to increase.

The King’s exertions in the cause of public philanthropy are so great and widespread that it might be supposed that he would have no time for private acts of benevolence. But this is by no means the case, and an example which is not generally known may be given here. An officer of the Grenadier Guards, a regiment in which the King is particularly interested, fell into serious money troubles and had to leave the service, ultimately becoming almost destitute. The Prince, as he then was, heard of the case, and soon the poor ex-officer received a letter from a firm of solicitors asking him to call on them. He did so, and was given, to his amazement, a considerable sum of money, together with the offer of a good appointment abroad. The Prince’s name was not disclosed, by His Royal Highness’s express command, but a plausible story was told of an old comrade who wished thus anonymously to recompense former acts of kindness.

Better known, perhaps, is the story of a large silver inkstand which Queen Alexandra particularly values, though it does not belong to her, but to the King. It bears the inscription: “To the Prince of Wales. From one who saw him conduct a blind beggar across the street. In memory of a kind and Christian action.” The incident occurred in Pall Mall at a busy time of the day, and the beggar, with his dog, was vainly trying to cross in safety when the King, who chanced to be passing at the moment, took the poor fellow by the arm and guided him to the other side. A few days afterwards the inkstand arrived at Marlborough House, with no card or letter or other clue to the donor’s identity, which, indeed, has never been revealed to this day.

In conclusion it may be mentioned that His Majesty’s large-hearted philanthropy includes even those often unfortunate people who are expiating in prison the crimes they have committed against society. On one occasion His Majesty visited Portland, spent a long time in inspecting the infirmary, and tasted the food supplied to the convicts.