A Talk with a King

In her book, Kings, Queens, and Pawns, available on Project Gutenberg, American writer and reporter Mary Roberts Rinehart (1876-1958) gives an appreciative account of her meeting with King Albert I of Belgium during World War I. At the time of the audience, Albert and his wife, Queen Elisabeth, were living at La Panne, on the Belgian coast, near the front lines. Most of Belgium was under German occupation, following Germany's invasion of the country on August 4, 1914, in violation of treaties which guaranteed Belgian neutrality and independence. The United States had not yet entered the war.

This is how Rinehart describes her meeting with the King:

... There was little formality. I was taken in charge by the King's equerry, who tapped at a closed door. I drew a long breath.

"Madame Rinehart!" said the equerry, and stood aside.

There was a small screen in front of the door. I went round it. Standing alone before the fire was Albert I, King of the Belgians. I bowed; then we shook hands and he asked me to sit down.

It was to be a conversation rather than an interview; but as it was to be given as accurately as possible to the American people, I was permitted to make careful notes of both questions and answers. It was to be, in effect, a statement of the situation in Belgium as the King of the Belgians sees it.

I spoke first of a message to America.

"I have already sent a message to America," he informed me, "quite a long message. We are, of course, intensely appreciative of what Americans have done for Belgium."

"They are anxious to do what they can. The general feeling is one of great sympathy."

"Americans are both just and humane," the King replied, "and their system of distribution is excellent. I do not know what we should have done without the American Relief Committees."

"Is there anything further Your Majesty can suggest?"

"They seem to have thought of everything," the King said simply. "The food is invaluable- particularly the flour. It has saved many from starvation."

"But there is still need?"

"Oh, yes- great need."

It was clear that the subject was a tragic one. The King of the Belgians loves his people, as they love him, with a devotion that is completely unselfish. That he is helpless to relieve so much that they are compelled to endure is his great grief.

His face clouded. Probably he was seeing, as he must always see, the dejected figures of the peasants in the fields, the long files of his soldiers as they made their way through wet and cold to the trenches, the destroyed towns, the upheaval of a people.

"What is possible to know of the general condition of affairs in that part of Belgium occupied by the Germans?" I asked. "I do not mean in regard to food only, but the general condition of the Belgian people."

"It is impossible to say," was the answer. "During the invasion it was very bad. It is a little better now, of course, but here we are on the wrong side of the line to form any ordered judgment. To gain a real conception of the situation it would be necessary to go through the occupied portions from town to town, almost from house to house. Have you been in the other part of Belgium?"

"Not yet, I may go."

"You should do that- see Louvain, Aerschot, Antwerp- see the destroyed towns for yourself. No one can tell you. You must see them."

I was not certain that I should be permitted to make such a journey, but the King waved my doubts aside with a gesture.

"You are an American," he said. "it would be quite possible and you would see just what has happened. You would see open towns that were bombarded, other towns that were destroyed after occupation! You would see a country ruthlessly devastated, our wonderful monuments destroyed, our architectural and artistic treasures sacrificed without reason- without any justification."

"But as a necessity of war?" I asked.

"Not at all. The Germans have saved buildings when it suited their convenience to do so. No military necessity dictated the destruction of Louvain. It was not bombarded. It was deliberately destroyed. But, of course, you know that."

"The matter of the violation of Belgium's neutrality still remains an open question," I said. "I have seen American facsimile copies of documents referring to conversations between staff officers of the British and Belgian armies- documents that were found in the ministerial offices at Brussels when the Germans occupied that city last August. Of course I think that most Americans realize that, had they been of any real importance, they would have been taken away. There was time enough. But there are some, I know, who think them significant."

The King of the Belgians shrugged his shoulders.

"They were of an unofficial character and entirely without importance. The German Staff probably knew all about them long before the declaration of war. They themselves had, without doubt, discussed and recorded similar probabilities in case of war with other countries. It is a common practice in army organizations to prepare against different contingencies. It is a question of military routine only."

"There was no justification, then, for the violation of Belgian neutrality?" I inquired.

"None whatever! The German violation of Belgian neutrality was wrong," he said emphatically. "On the fourth of August their own chancellor admitted it. Belgium had no thought of war. The Belgians are a peace-loving people, who had every reason to believe in the friendship of Germany."

The next question was a difficult one. I inquired as to the behavior of the Germans in the conquered territory; but the King made no sweeping condemnation of the German army.

"Fearful things have been done, particularly during the invasion," he said, weighing his words carefully, "but it would be unfair to condemn the whole German Army. Some regiments have been most humane, but others behaved very badly. Have you seen the government report?"

I said I had not seen it, though I had heard that a careful investigation had been made.

"The government was very cautious," His Majesty said. "The investigation was absolutely impartial and as accurate as it could be made. Doubts were cast on all statements- even those of the most dependable witnesses-until they could be verified."

"They were verified?"

"Yes, again and again."

"By the victims themselves?"

"Not always. The victims of extreme cruelty do not live to tell of it, but German soldiers themselves have told the story. We have had here many hundreds of journals, taken from dead or imprisoned Germans, furnishing elaborate details of most atrocious acts. The government is keeping these journals. They furnish powerful and incontrovertible testimony of what happened in Belgium when it was swept over by a brutal army. That was, of course, during the invasion- such things are not happening now as far as we know."

He had spoken quietly, but there was a new note of strain in his voice. The burden of the King of the Belgians is a double one. To the horror of war has been added the unnecessary violation and death of noncombatants.

The King then referred to the German advance through Belgian territory.

"Thousands of civilians have been killed without reason. The execution of noncombatants is not war, and no excuse can be made for it. Such deeds cannot be called war."

"But if the townspeople fired on the Germans?"

"All weapons had been deposited in the hands of the town authorities. It is unlikely that any organized attack by civilians could have been made. However, if in individual cases shots were fired at the German soldiers, this may always be condoned in a country suffering invasion. During an occupation it would be different, naturally. No excuse can be offered for such an action in occupied territory."

"Various Belgian officers have told me of seeing crowds of men, women, and children driven ahead of the Germany Army to protect the troops. This is so incredible that I must ask whether it has any foundation of truth."

"It is quite true. It is a barbarous and inhuman system of protecting the German advance. When the Belgian soldiers fired on the enemy they killed their own people. Again and again innocent civilians of both sexes were sacrificed to protect the invading army during attacks. A terrible slaughter!"

His Majesty made no effort to conceal his great grief and indignation. And again, as before, there seemed nothing to say.

"Even now," I said, "when the Belgians return the German artillery fire, they are bombarding their own towns."

"That is true, of course, but what can we do? And the civilian population is very brave. They fear invasion, but they no longer pay any attention to bombs. They work in the fields quite calmly, with shells dropping about. They must work or starve."

He then spoke of the morale of the troops, which is excellent, and of his sympathy for their situation.

"Their families are in Belgium," he said. "Many of them have heard nothing for months. But they are wonderful. They are fighting for life and to regain their families, their homes, and their country. Christmas was very sad for them."

... I referred to my last visit to Belgium, when Brussels was the capital, and to the contrast now, when La Panne, a small seaside resort, hardly more than a village, contains the court, the residence of the King and Queen, and of the various members of his household. It seemed to me unlikely that La Panne would be attacked, as the Queen of the Belgians is a Bavarian.

"Do you think La Panne will be bombarded?" I asked.

"Why not?"

"I thought that possibly, on account of Your Majesty and the Queen being there, it would be spared."

"They are bombarding Furnes, where I go every day," he replied. "And there are German airplanes overhead all the time."

..."Belgium has made a great sacrifice in flooding her lowlands," I said. "Will that land be as fertile as before?"

"Not for several years. The flooding of the productive land in the Yser district was only carried out as a military necessity. The water is sea water, of course, and will have a bad effect on the soil ... "

The conversation then shifted to America and its attitude to the war. At the end of the audience:

The King had risen and was standing in his favorite attitude, his elbow on the mantelpiece. I rose also.

"I was given some instructions as to the ceremonial of this audience," I said. "I am afraid I have not followed them!"

"What were you told to do?" said His Majesty, evidently amused. Then, without waiting for a reply:

"We are very democratic- we Belgians," he said. "More democratic than the Americans ... "

... I looked at the clock. It was after three and the interview had begun at two. I knew it was time for me to go, but I had been given no indication that the interview was at an end. Fragments of the coaching I had received came to my mind, but nothing useful, so I stated my difficulty frankly, and again, the King's serious face lighted up with a smile.

"There is no formality here, but if you are going we must find the general for you."

So we shook hands and I went out, but the beautiful courtesy of the soldier King of the Belgians brought him out to the doorstep with me.

That is the final picture I have of Albert I, King of the Belgians- a tall young man, very fair and blue-eyed, in the dark blue uniform of a lieutenant-general of his army, wearing no orders or decorations, standing bareheaded in the wind and pointing out to me the direction in which I should go to find the general who had brought me.

He is a very courteous gentleman ... a tragic and heroic figure, but thinking himself neither- thinking of himself not at all, indeed, only of his people, whose griefs are his to share but not to lighten, living day and night under the rumble of German artillery at Nieuport and Dixmude in that small corner of Belgium which remains to him...

The Melancholy of Albert I

An interesting anecdote from Charles d'Ydewalle's Albert and the Belgians: Portrait of a King illustrates all the King's sad and ironic skepticism.

The truth is, that he never appreciated the glorious adventure of his life. Again and again he would mutter between his teeth: "My people do not love me."

One Sunday he started off by car for the fêtes that were being held in a certain town. As they drove along, the King began to confide in his aide-de-camp, and the dialogue began: "The people of X...do not like me. In my heart of hearts, I don't know why I'm going. On a Sunday, too. There won't be a soul there. They'll all be out in the country. The only people who will be there are the officials who hope to get a decoration."

The King arrived. The bells pealed. The roads were thronged, the balconies were thronged, the very roofs were thronged. The crowd of officials performed their duties adequately, and everything went swimmingly. The King saluted, his face impassive, almost indifferent, and left, after having voiced his thanks and congratulations to all. On the way back, the conversation was resumed.

"Happily, Your Majesty was mistaken. There was a huge crowd."

To which the King, buried in a corner of the car, replied, in a semi-serious tone: "Yes, there will be a similar crowd when I am led to the scaffold."

Odd...

Since yesterday, this site has suddenly been getting alot of hits (apparently from different locations in the USA) with search terms like "Albert Einstein to Queen Elisabeth of Belgium," "Albert Einstein condolence letter to Queen of Belgium," "Einstein grief Queen of Belgium," etc. I wonder, is it the same person somehow using different IP addresses? Of course, I don't mind getting hits but it does strike me as curious. In any case, for those who are interested, HERE is Einstein's moving letter to his friend, the Belgian queen, trying to console her for the loss of her husband.

Death of a King

Today is the anniversary of the tragic and untimely death of Albert I, King of the Belgians. According to official documents, a chance slip from a craggy precipice, during a solitary rock-climbing excursion on Saturday, February 17, 1934, cut short the life of this beloved monarch, at the age of 58. In her memoirs, his daughter, Queen Marie-José of Italy, gives an affecting account of the terrible event:

February 17, 1934!

The news of the fatal accident reached me on the morning of the 18th, but without details. A mountaineering accident in Belgium, how was this possible?

With his affectionate delicacy, Umberto gave me to understand that all hope was lost. Struck by the suddenness of the shock, I could not take in the extent of my misfortune. Immobility was intolerable to me; I walked up and down. Umberto remained at my side, trying to comfort me.

Death had surprised my father in a wild and solitary place, among the cliffs of the Meuse. To prepare for his summer ascensions, he was climbing, during the afternoon of February 17th, the steep crags of Marche-les-Dames; in particular, the one known as the "Cliff of the Good God." The rock to which he had attached his rope gave way unexpectedly, so that he fell from a dizzying height. Hurled backwards, he shattered his temple against a ledge twelve metres below the cliff, but rolled thirty metres further. His body was not found until late in the night, buried under a heap of dead leaves.

My mother, overcoming her grief, wrote to me: "My immense sorrow does not prevent me from thinking of yours. I know how unhappy you are. Papa loved you so much. I hope that this shock has not damaged your health, doubly precious at this moment (I was expecting my first child). My grief is infinite, and the void, each day, will feel greater."

On the morning of Sunday, February 18, Belgians heard the awful news at Mass. Grief, shock and disbelief swept through the country, and, indeed, the world. Widely loved and admired for his heroism during World War I, and graced with a modest, affable personality, Albert was deeply mourned far beyond Belgium's frontiers. Meanwhile, in Brussels, amidst the moving and imposing funeral ceremonies, the people filed past silently to pay their last respects to their dead King, lying in state in a candle-lit chapel of flowers in the Royal Palace.

On February 22, as the funeral cortege made its way from the palace to the Cathedral of St. Gudule to the Church of Our Lady of Laeken, vast, sombre crowds lined the route. Thousands knelt and prayed as the gun-carriage, bearing the King's coffin, passed by. "Au revoir, Albert," one old man was heard to whisper. After the Requiem Mass, celebrated by Cardinal van Roey, Archbishop of Malines, in the black-draped cathedral, Albert's body was conducted to the Church of Our Lady of Laeken, where the final Benediction took place. Then, to the strains of funeral music and the booming of artillery, the third King of the Belgians was laid to rest in the royal crypt.

Because King Albert was an expert climber, and died alone, without witnesses, many have questioned the official version of his death. To add to all the suspicion, no autopsy, apparently, was ever performed on the King's body, nor was there any thorough judicial inquest into his death. The unfortunate result has been that, ever since that sad winter day in 1934, a wide variety of sensationalist rumors of murder and suicide have repeatedly flared up. Tragically, the speculation has often become quite cruel and vulgar, with torrid theories of secret love affairs and crimes of passion. I find it all highly distasteful. True, a disturbing element of mystery will always surround the King's last moments. After all, nobody saw him lose his grip and fall from the cliffs, that was all a later reconstruction. Yet, surely, rather than revelling in macabre, lurid speculation, it is better to pray for his soul?

Albert Einstein's letter of condolence to Queen Elisabeth

Paul Claudel's tribute to the King, February 18, 1934

Henriette the Huntress

Apparently, Princess Henriette of Belgium, Duchess of Vendome, was considered the best shot among royal sportswomen in her day. HERE is a New York Times article from 1908 on her trip to the Rocky Mountains to hunt grizzly bears. It rather amuses me, as Henriette was actually such a gentle and tender-hearted lady, yet, clearly, she was also a bold, daring and fierce princess!

Incidentally, Henriette's brother, King Albert I, hated hunting, considering it a cruel and unjustifiably sanguinary pursuit. During his youth, reportedly, he suffered severely when obliged to take part in family hunts. The First World War, with its appalling bloodshed, only intensified his aversion to all such activities. Albert's and Henriette's tastes, evidently, markedly diverged here. Nonetheless, they were always devoted siblings.

By the way, the promised post on Henriette's account of her great-grandmother, Marie-Amélie of Naples, will be coming soon...

The King's Eyes

By all accounts, King Albert I of the Belgians was very near-sighted. His daughter Marie-José, for instance, recalls in her memoirs that he had to wear two sets of glasses to be able to take in the splendors of the dresses at a court ball. It seems remarkable that a man with such weak eyes was able to do so much difficult and dangerous mountain-climbing...In any case, here is a striking reflection on the topic, taken from the journal of the Comtesse van den Steen de Jehay, a close friend and collaborator of King Albert and Queen Elisabeth during World War I.

Lentement le roi parle.

A cause de sa myopie...à peine dévisage-t-il son interlocuteur. Enlèverait-il ses lunettes qu'il ne verrait pas à 15 cm devant lui. Et l'idée est obsédante de songer qu'une personnalité aussi puissante serait subitement suspendue, ankylosée, si une cause infime, coup de vent ou menue branche, lui enlevait, avec la vision, ces deux morceaux de verre!

***

Slowly the king speaks.

Due to his near-sightedness...he can barely make out his interlocutor. If he took off his glasses, he would not see 15 cm ahead of him. And the idea is obsessing, to consider that a personality so powerful would be suddenly suspended, paralyzed, if a minute cause, a gust of wind or a delicate branch, took away from him, along with his vision, those two pieces of glass!

The King's Consolation

In his difficult public role, King Albert I found great comfort in his family life. After nine years of marriage, he wrote to his wife, Elisabeth:

Je t'écris, non pour te congratuler d'être tombée sur on ours comme moi, mais pour les mille efforts que tu as faits pour moi et pour les beaux enfants que tu m'as donnés! Voilà déjà neuf ans que nous avons unis nos destinées et je ne veux point passer ce jour sans te dire combien je suis heureux avec toi et combien j'apprécie le bonheur que tu m'as apporté au foyer et qui dans la vie est toujours le plus précieux de tout...

I write to you, not to congratulate you for having stumbled upon a bear like me, but for the countless efforts you have made for me, and for the beautiful children you have given me! It is now nine years since we united our destinies, and I am determined not to let this day pass without telling you how happy I am with you, and how much I appreciate the happiness you have brought to my home - the happiness that, in life, is always the most precious of all... 

Such a tender heart!

Accession of Albert I

Today marks the centenary of the accession of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth to the Belgian throne. On December 23, 1909, six days after the death of his uncle, Leopold II, Prince Albert swore his accession oath before Parliament, becoming the third King of the Belgians. Previous monarchs had taken the oath only in French; Albert innovated by doing so in Dutch as well. Belgians joyfully welcomed their retiring, studious, conscientious and progressive new sovereign and his lively, artistic, philanthropic, Bavarian-born consort. Their unassuming ways and happy family life, which stood in marked contrast to the haughty, aloof manners and irregular private life of Leopold II, had already won the young couple great popularity. In the years to come, this would only increase, thanks to the family's bravery during World War I.

Click HERE for excerpts from Albert's accession speech.

The King Returns to Brussels, 1918

"Sire, you shall return to your capital...." Belgian poet Emile Verhaeren had written to King Albert I during the dark days of World War I. On November 22, 1918, eleven days after the Armistice, these words finally came true. Click HERE for a detailed account of the magnificent day.

The capital by its enthusiastic reception witnesses its admiring gratitude to the sovereign who returns to it covered with glory of the purest quality, to its Queen, who lived throughout the war among our soldiers, lavishing upon them treasures of kindness and devotion without limit; to the Princes, who symbolize in our eyes the future of our country, and to the heroic and victorious troops who chased the enemy from our country and thanks to whom Belgium regains her place among the free and independent nations.

Long live the King, Queen, royal family and the Belgian armies! Long live the Allies!

~ Burgomaster Adolphe Max 

Prayer of King Albert?

I have repeatedly had hits to this site with search terms like "prayer by Albert of Belgium" and "King Albert prayer." Unfortunately, I have no idea what this might be. Does anyone have any information?

King Albert & Queen Elisabeth in the Congo

The last decade of King Albert's reign was filled with a rapid succession of royal trips to the Congo...We have seen how Prince Leopold journeyed through Belgium's African possessions in 1925 and 1933. His parents did likewise in 1928 and 1932. Colonial issues were always close to the King's heart. In 1920, amidst the aftermath of World War I, while Belgian politicians were still focusing on the nation's recovery, Albert took the initiative of launching a Colonial Congress, the first in Belgian history. He emphasized the role the Congo could play in Belgium's economic development, while also inveighing against abuse of the native population. Plans for a royal visit were soon underway, and the first opportune moment came in 1928.

Accompanied by his wife, Queen Elisabeth, Albert arrived in Africa for the second time in his life. He had last seen the Congo as a young prince in 1909, and he would now retrace his steps. He wore a handsome white and gold uniform specially designed for the trip. Ordinarily, Albert was known for his royal indifference to externals ("Look for the worst dressed fellow of the bunch," he once told an official who asked how to recognize him when he was traveling incognito). Yet, the Congolese attached great importance to the outward trappings of rank and authority, so the King had to dress more grandly on his African visits.

According to a contemporary account of the trip:

The itinerary the King and Queen followed enabled them to visit the most interesting regions of our African colony. From Boma to Banana, the Sovereigns made the complete circuit of the Congo. Thanks to (modern transport), they were able, from Léopoldville, to reach Katanga directly, without having to make the long journey by river. From Elisabethville, where they arrived after a rapid journey by air and rail, the King and his entourage were able to retrace the route taken 20 years earlier by Prince Albert. It was a long...journey along the river, from Bukama to Banana, with many varied stops, with short trips by rail whenever the river ceased to be navigable, and a quick flight by air from Colquilhatville to Léopoldville and Boma (Boula Matari ou le Congo Belge, Jacques Crokaert, 1929).

Warmly welcomed throughout the trip, the King and Queen made detours to visit the agricultural enterprises of Mayumba, the diamond mines of Kasai, the rich lands of Rwanda, Urundi, Kivu and Uele. They met with colonial dignitaries, Christian missionaries and native chieftains alike. Crokaert describes the journey in rather complacent and triumphalist terms, eulogizing the genius of Leopold II in acquiring the colony, citing the vast technological progresses in the Congo since Albert's last visit, and stressing the natives' debt of gratitude for the benefits of European civilization. The King, however, told a different story. In a letter, he noted, with his customary caustic irony:

We have already seen many things, and, above all, many people. Very busy program, pathological insistence of public servants, private individuals, and even servants of God on being endlessly complimented on what they do or even do not do...

Boma has not changed in 19 years. The governor-general's house is a dirty box. Matadi: frightful. An insult to the majestic river. Léo-Kin cuts a good figure, could become a magnificent city....

To say the voyage is a pleasure would be a lie...The mentality of the big officials for the most part bad. The little ones are often worth more. Great greed everywhere, malice without bounds, few agreeable people. Some great potential in private enterprises (Léopold III, by Vincent Dujardin, Mark van den Wingaert, et. al. 2001.)

Quite critical, like his son! Yet, happier memories of Albert's Congo trips have also come down to us. Le Roi Albert et les Missions (1935) by Joseph Masson, S. J., for instance, provides a wealth of information on the royal couple's close and touching relationship with the Catholic missionaries in Africa. Despite the King's critical comments in his letter, he clearly admired their heroism, as many stories testify (see HERE). Once, for instance, he visited a convent school for young girls, future mothers of Christian homes. He was deeply moved by the experience and quietly told one of the nuns: "Continue, Sister, to devote yourself to this work, for the greater glory of God and for our country." To other missionaries, he confided: "I desire that, at my death, not a single pagan be left in the Congo." His concern for the spiritual welfare of his African subjects was matched by concern for their material prosperity too. He insisted on personally visiting the homes of ordinary people to see, with his own eyes, their living conditions. According to Masson, the indigenous people were very impressed by the kindness and piety of Albert and Elisabeth. Apparently, in religious controversies between Protestant and Catholic Congolese, the latter would even use the King's devout Catholic faith as a clinching argument: "You see the King belongs to our Church, so it must be the true one."

To the end of his life, King Albert was keenly preoccupied with Belgium's distant colony. In 1932, he would return for his third visit, traveling by air through the cotton farms of Uele and the national park bearing his name. As a final touching detail, his last day of work (according to Masson) was devoted to the Congo.

Wedding of Albert & Elisabeth

On October 2, 1900 Prince Albert of Belgium married Duchess Elisabeth in Bavaria. Although they had met under tragic circumstances (at the funeral for one of Elisabeth's aunts, burned alive while heroically attempting to save others during a fire at a charity bazaar), a real romance blossomed between the pair and one day, while they were out for a walk (with Elisabeth's chaperone at a discreet distance) a bashful Albert managed to ask Elisabeth if she thought she'd be able to stand the Belgian climate...

The wedding was magnificent, celebrated in Munich amidst wild popular rejoicing. In her memoirs, the royal couple's daughter, Marie-José, records the words Msgr. von Klein addressed to her parents before imparting the nuptial benediction. "Prince, you shall one day wear the crown, and may your fame then resound afar, for your devoted, clement love, for your paternal goodness towards your subjects." Turning to Elisabeth, he added: "And you...may you be celebrated as the benefactress of the poor, the refuge of the afflicted and a radiant image of Christian charity." As Marie-José notes, the prelate's words were "almost prophetic..."

King & Cardinal

A striking portrait of Albert I, by Eugène de Bremaecker (1879-1963), dating from 1923. Although it was sculpted after the war, it seems the King is still shown in military attire? (Compare this postcard from the war period.) He looks a mixture of sadness, weariness, shrewdness and grim determination (reminds me of this photograph of Albert and Marie-José during the war.) What do you think?Désiré-Joseph, Cardinal Mercier, Archbishop of Malines and Primate of Belgium, sculpted by the same artist. (Photo credits)

Albert I: Myth & Reality

King Albert's image has varied widely over the decades, ranging from the shining knight sans peur et sans reproche of World War I propaganda, to (in recent, revisionist historiography) a pacifist, a defeatist, or even a traitor to the Allied cause. But what was the truth? Professor John Rogister attempts to sort through the evidence.

Gunfire at Marche-les-Dames???

I stumbled upon a curious article, Albert 1er, la mort d'un roi, by one Didier Demeter. Like many others before him, he casts doubt on the official version of Albert's death. According to the author, Charles Hennuy, a resident of Marche-les-Dames, reported hearing a gunshot echoing through the cliffs on the fatal day around 4 pm (roughly the time the King was thought to have died), but the inquest failed to investigate this claim. Never before have I come across this assertion, although I was familiar with Hennuy's name. He is mentioned in various accounts as one of the villagers enlisted by the royal entourage (incognito) to assist them in finding the King's body. Does anyone know if this man really ever made such a claim? I am not sure whether to believe the article, it is rather odd. The author's critique of the inquest into the King's death is interesting, detailed and in-depth, but then he falls to making nasty insinuations about Albert and Elisabeth without any proof. (I have discussed some of these old rumors, HERE). I also found it totally unnecessary, and rather ludicrous, to drag the theft of the Just Judges into the story.

The Tragedy of Albert I

I have always found the story of Albert's death deeply upsetting. After all his heroism in war and peace, who would not have wished him a long, happy, tranquil life? 1934 ought to have been a year of rejoicing. The King was soon to celebrate his Silver Jubilee... but, instead, a frightful fate was in store for him and a dark period lay ahead for Belgium.

The new King and Queen. Leopold looks so sad here! In her memoirs, Astrid's friend Anna Sparre tells of how the princely couple (who had been vacationing in Switzerland at the time of the King's death) spent the return journey to Brussels weeping uncontrollably. She also describes Leopold's shattered emotional state, and Astrid's heroic efforts to support him, in these terrible moments. As Queen Elisabeth was also prostrate with grief, the task of preparing for Albert's funeral fell, in large measure, to Astrid.

The sadness of a loving daughter-in-law...Astrid at Albert's funeral. She almost seems to personify Belgium's mourning.

The Broken Rose

(Credits)

In a collection of poems of the Great War, I came across Annie Vivanti Chartres' fervid tribute to the Belgian king and people, entitled The Broken Rose. Despite my love and admiration for Albert, I have to say I never feel very comfortable with this sort of tribute and I suspect he would have been embarrassed by it, too. Nonetheless, it is a good example of the kind of hero-worship he received during the war, and I wanted to include it as part of my series on popular representations of the Belgian monarchy.

Shy, youthful, silent — and misunderstood

In the white glare of Kinghood thou didst stand.

The sceptre in thy hand

Seemed but a flower the Fates had tossed to thee,

And thou wert called, perchance half-scornfully,

Albert the Good.

To-day thou standest on a blackened grave,

Thy broken sword still lifted to the skies.

Thy pure and fearless eyes

Gaze into Death's grim visage unappalled

And by the storm-swept nations thou art called

Albert the Brave.

Tossed on a blood-red sea of rage and hate

The frenzied world rolls forward to its doom.

But high above the gloom

Flashes the fulgent beacon of thy fame,

The nations thou hast saved exalt thy name —

Albert the Great!

Albert the good, the brave, the great, thy land

Lies at thy feet, a crushed and morient rose

Trampled and desecrated by thy foes.

One day a greater Belgium will be born,

But what of this dead Belgium wracked and torn ?

What of this rose flung out upon the sand ? . . .

Behold ! Afar where sky and waters meet

A white-robed Figure walketh on the sea.

(Peace goes before Him and her face is sweet.)

As once He trod the waves of Galilee

He comes again — the tumult sinks to rest,

The stormy waters shine beneath His feet.

He sees the dead rose lying in the sand,

He lifts the dead rose in His holy hand

And lays it at His breast.

O broken rose of Belgium, thou art blest!

What do you think of the poem? Touching? Overdone?

The King at Marche-les-Dames

Here is a popular image of Albert I climbing the cliffs of Marche-les-Dames. Notice the rather naïve style. I am not sure whether this is supposed to be a representation of the day he died (if anyone knows, please tell me). If so, it would be part of the tradition of pious mementos that sprang up after the King's death.

The Tragic Cliffs

I may do a series of posts on popular representations of the Belgian monarchy. A case in point is the legend built up around the death of Albert I. This tragedy became one of the pillars of the "Myth of King Albert" and gave rise to a tradition of pious mementos. Here are a few old postcards illustrating the terrible event...

The caption reads: "A general view of the cliffs of the valley of the Meuse. The sign X marks the cruel peak, where the Sovereign fell, from a height of around 12 meters, hitting his head against a large rock."
"The place where the body of the illustrious alpinist was found. The rock, bearing the letter A, marks the location of his backpack."
"The crowd in meditation before the tragic cliff." In shock and disbelief, many Belgians came to grieve and pray.

Today, schoolchildren continue to visit the sombre place where, 75 years ago, the broken body of their beloved King was found...

A Question

Some day I hope to do a post comparing/contrasting Albert I and Leopold III. I find it an interesting topic as Leopold always modeled himself on his father, yet was accused of betraying his memory... During World War II and the Royal Question, the King's enemies manipulated Albert's image (much as they did Astrid's) to attack Leopold, portraying him as a villain unworthy of his heroic predecessor. Of course, I don't think this. On the contrary, I even wonder if Leopold was actually the greater King, as he faced worse problems. What do you think? Who was greater, Albert or Leopold?