Another Albert and Elisabeth of Belgium

The Infanta Isabel Clara Eugenia

Here are some articles on the life of Isabel Clara Eugenia, the daughter of Philip II of Spain who became the ruler of the Spanish Netherlands.  With her husband, Archduke Albert of Austria, she consolidated the victory of the Counter-Reformation in the future Kingdom of Belgium.  Hundreds of years later, Isabel became an inspiration to her namesake, Elisabeth of Bavaria, Queen of the Belgians, the consort of King Albert I. 

In March of 1588, the ministers of Henry III of France, his contemporary, announced that King Philip was "mad": "The grand chancellor assured his awed dinner guests in Paris that while Philip's councillors debated state affairs, his eldest daughter, Isabel, was signing documents and in control of government." 

This "scandalous" announcement derived from reports made by Philip's ambassador in Paris, who had told the French king's mother, Catherine de' Medici, about the significance of Isabel's role in her father's government. Rumors were also spreading in Spain that, if Philip were "incapacitated," it would be Isabel who would "take control of the government" of her father's kingdom, and not her half-brother Philip III.

Her potential to function for her father as a "regent" had been noted as early as 1574, when an eight-year-old Isabel was suggested as regent of the Netherlands. She obviously would have been a figurehead then, but from an early age she had been extremely close to her father, who had played a "direct role" in raising her and her sister Catherine Michelle. 

Isabel, in particular, had emulated her father, and he had allowed her "to take part in his office work." By 1586, she was able to be a significant help and adviser to her father; she "read him the letters and despatches he had to deal with, adding her suggestions on how they should be answered." He "even gave her access to the most important papers of state."(Read more)

Here is an article on Isabel, the Counter-Reformation, and Rubens' series of tapestries on the Triumph of the Eucharist.

The portrait, which is today known only through copies and prints, has neither accompanying drapery, nor architecture, nor even any accessory, except for the rosary that hangs from her simple rope belt, thereby emphasizing her piety and spiritual authority. Rubens enhanced this concept by lightening the area around Isabel’s head as if she were radiating a divine glow. Barbara Welzel has noted that this halolike aura conveys Isabel’s majesty and plays with her second name, Clara, which in Spanish can mean light, thus visualizing a connection between the infanta and her moniker. An engraving after the painting with an inscription by Jan Gaspar Gevartius provides deeper specificity of meaning: (fig. 13)

of the imperial dynasty and daughter of Philip II, is praised as the jewel of Spain and the salvation of Belgium. She is the prudence of just war, the honor of chaste peace, and the love of religion. She was crowned with the oak wreath after capturing Breda, bringing the longed-for peace to Belgium, the peace it had sought in the rays of the shining Isabella.

The text unmistakably credits the infanta for the victory at Breda by calling her the “jewel of Spain and the salvation of Belgium” and the one responsible for capturing the town. That the peace was also sought in her shining rays of light further links the victory to her spirituality and heavenly empowerment. The centrality of this sentiment surfaces in the divine eye of Providence that Rubens illustrated at the top of the portrait print, above the inscription “providentia augusta ut serves vincis” (You conquer because you serve sublime Providence). The symbol of God’s guidance and intervention, the eye presides over two supple putti who crown the infanta with “the oak wreath after capturing Breda,” a wreath, which, in Roman tradition, was awarded to those who had liberated their fellow man from a subjection imposed by the enemy. The wreath, thus, came to symbolically identify the person thus crowned as a savior. This image reinforces the notion that God watches over Isabel, and, through the spiritual authority he invested in her, helped her combat his enemies at Breda to secure the victory and bring “the longed-for peace to Belgium.” (Read more)

Isabel with her husband, Albert

 

Engagement of the future King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians

Maria de Villegas, Countess van den Steen de Jehay

Via RTBF, Florence de Moreau de Villegas de Saint Pierre, chatelaine of Louvignies, gives several brief presentations on the life and work of her aunt, Maria de Villegas, Countess van den Steen de Jehay, a close friend and confidante of Queen Elisabeth of Belgium. The presentations are all in French, but can be roughly followed in other languages through the automatically translated subtitles. For anyone wondering about the origin of the family name, the De Villegas are Belgian nobility of Spanish ancestry. 

Maria was an intellectual and literary figure, and a heroine of World War I. She worked devotedly with Queen Elisabeth in nursing wounded soldiers of all nationalities, and in providing relief and comfort for Belgian civilian war victims. The programs feature her letters, diaries, glimpses of her wardrobe and a tour of Louvignies itself. One particularly touching excerpt from her writing, noted in the clip above, is as follows. After the death of King Albert I, the Countess wrote to Queen Elisabeth to express her condolences: "I weep with you, Madame, for the admirable man you weep for. I weep for your happiness. I loved you so much when you were happy.  Let me love you even more when you are unhappy." 

More on Elisabeth's war work and her friendship with the Countess can be read HERE. Florence de Moreau's book on Maria de Villegas is available HERE. 

A Talk with Queen Mary

Since I have featured excerpts from Mary Roberts Rinehart's wartime conversations with Albert and Elisabeth of Belgium, it may be interesting to see the American author's account of her meeting with Mary of Teck, from  Kings, Queens and Pawns.

It will be a surprise to many Americans to learn that the Queen of England is very lovely to look at. So much emphasis has always been placed on her virtues, and so little has been written of her charm, that this tribute is only fair to Her Majesty. She is tall, perhaps five feet eight inches, with deep-blue eyes and beautiful colouring. She has a rather wide, humorous mouth. There is not a trace of austerity in her face or in any single feature. The whole impression was of sincerity and kindliness, with more than a trace of humour.

I could quite believe, after I saw Her Majesty, the delightful story that I had heard from a member of her own circle, that now and then, when during some court solemnity an absurdity occurred, it was positively dangerous to catch the Queen's eye!

Queen Mary came up the long room. As she paused and held out her hand, each lady took it and curtsied at the same time. The Queen talked, smiling as she spoke. There was no formality. Near at hand the lady-in-waiting who was in attendance stood, sometimes listening, sometimes joining in the conversation. The talk was all of supplies, for these days in England one thinks in terms of war. Certain things had come in; other things had gone or were going. For the Queen of England is to-day at the head of a great business, one that in a few months has already collected and distributed over a million garments, all new, all practical, all of excellent quality.

The Queen came toward me and paused. There was an agonised moment while the lady-in-waiting presented me. Her Majesty held out her hand. I took it and bowed. The next instant she was speaking. 

She spoke at once of America, of what had already been done by Americans for the Belgians both in England and in their desolated country. And she hastened to add her gratitude for the support they have given her Guild.

"The response has been more than generous," said Her Majesty. "We are very grateful. We are glad to find that the sympathy of America is with us."

She expressed a desire also to have America know fully just what was being done with the supplies that are being constantly sent over, both from Canada and from the United States.

"Canada has been wonderful," she said. "They are doing everything."

The ready response of Canada to the demand for both troops and supplies appeared to have touched Her Majesty. She spoke at length about the troops, the distance they had come, the fine appearance the men made, and their popularity with the crowds when they paraded on the streets of London. I had already noticed this. A Canadian regiment was sure to elicit cheers at any time, although London, generally speaking, has ceased any but silent demonstration over the soldiers.

"Have you seen any of the English hospitals on the Continent?" the Queen asked.

"I have seen a number, Your Majesty."

"Do they seem well supplied?"

I replied that they appeared to be thoroughly equipped, but that the amount of supplies required was terrifying and that at one time some of the hospitals had experienced difficulty in securing what they needed.

"One hospital in Calais," I said, "received twelve thousand pairs of bed socks in one week last autumn, and could not get a bandage."

"Those things happened early in the war. We are doing much better now. England had not expected war. We were totally unprepared."

..."What is your impression of the French and Belgian hospitals?" Her Majesty inquired.

I replied that none were so good as the English, that France had always depended on her nuns in such emergencies, and, there being no nuns in France now, her hospital situation was still not good.

"The priests of Belgium are doing wonderful work," I said. "They have suffered terribly during the war."

"It is very terrible," said Her Majesty. "Both priests and nuns have suffered, as England has reason to know."

The Queen spoke of the ladies connected with the Guild.

"They are really much overworked," she said. "They are giving all their time day after day. They are splendid. And many of them, of course, are in great anxiety."

Already, by her tact and her simplicity of manner, she had put me at my ease. The greatest people, I have found, have this quality of simplicity. When she spoke of the anxieties of her ladies, I wished that I could have conveyed to her, from so many Americans, their sympathy in her own anxieties, so keen at that time, so unselfishly borne. But the lady-in-waiting was speaking:

"Please tell the Queen about your meeting with King Albert."

So I told about it. It had been unconventional, and the recital amused Her Majesty. It was then that I realised how humorous her mouth was, how very blue and alert her eyes. I told it all to her, the things that insisted on slipping off my lap, and the King's picking them up; the old envelope he gave me on which to make notes of the interview; how I had asked him whether he would let me know when the interview was over, or whether I ought to get up and go! And finally, when we were standing talking before my departure, how I had suddenly remembered that I was not to stand nearer to His Majesty than six feet, and had hastily backed away and explained, to his great amusement.

Queen Mary laughed. Then her face clouded.

"It is all so very tragic," she said. "Have you seen the Queen?"

I replied that the Queen of the Belgians had received me a few days after my conversation with the King.

"She is very sad," said Her Majesty. "It is a terrible thing for her, especially as she is a Bavarian by birth." (Read full account)

King and Queen

A war postcard showing Albert and Elisabeth, the Soldier-King and the Nurse-Queen, as protectors of their land and people.

Mourning a Prince

Again, I have to apologize for a long absence. This was not due to lack of interest in the Belgian royal family, but I have been very busy with studies and pro-life work. I will still be maintaining this blog, but it seems that I will have to post here less often than in previous years.

I find many of the old prayer cards commemorating deceased members of the Belgian royal family to be quite touching and sobering, as well as helpful in shedding light on traditional Belgian religious practices. Here are memorial cards to Prince Baudouin (1869-1891), the handsome, pious and gifted elder brother of King Albert I.

Netley Lucas, in Albert the Brave: King of the Belgians, captures the mood of the Belgians during the tragic family illness that so suddenly took the life of the heir to the throne. The shattering effect of the loss of his nephew upon the ostensibly cold, formidable and impervious King Leopold II is especially striking.

Towards the end of 1890, Prince Albert caught a bad cold, which developed quickly into a species of influenza. From the Prince the illness spread to his sister Princess Josephine, and from her to Princess Henriette, whose condition grew gradually worse until it was considered necessary to publish bulletins. The life of the Princess was for some days in danger. The anxiety of the Count and Countess was lightened by the manifestations of popular sympathy with which they were overwhelmed. The Palace of the Rue de la Regence was besieged with streams of callers of all ranks and classes, who begged for the latest news or brought gifts that, in the case of the poorer donors, were indicative of the very deep sympathy felt by everyone. 

The malady ran its course, but happily the constitution of the Princess, strengthened by the simple, wholesome life she had led, withstood the strain. Towards the middle of January, 1891, Princess Josephine was pronounced out of danger. But no sooner were her parents relieved of one anxiety than another arose. On January 17th, only a day after the hopeful report of the Princess had been published, Prince Baudouin was taken ill. He took the disease in a lighter form, and though his condition gave rise to anxiety, he was not at first so ill as had been his sister, and no bulletins were issued. He was indeed well enough to take a walk. Unhappily, the illness increased suddenly, and despite every precaution, Prince Baudouin developed pleuropneumonia. He grew steadily worse, after less than a week's illness, he passed away on January 23rd, 1891.  

Prince Baudouin was in his twenty-second year. It was stated that he would probably have married his cousin Princess Clementine. By a sad coincidence his death took place on the fiftieth anniversary of the death of King Leopold's only son. Queen Victoria and all the crowned heads of Europe hastened to express their condolence with the bereaved parents and King Leopold. Court mourning in Belgium was ordered for three months.  

The funeral took place on January 29th, amidst universal signs of sorrow. The service in St. Gudule was deeply pathetic. The coffin was followed by King Leopold who, said the representative of The Times, "was quite overcome by emotion and walked with halting steps, supported on his left by the Count of Flanders, who was himself weeping bitterly...The young Prince Albert, the sole surviving son of the Count of Flanders, who walked by his father, also betrayed profound grief."(pp. 29-30)

Above is a highly symbolic scene, featuring the Cross, flowers, dynastic heraldry, mourning ribbons and a drooping Belgian flag, with the words:

"The entire Nation weeps for the beloved prince whom cruel death has snatched from our hopes."

Here, Belgian Catholics are entreated to pray for the repose of the soul of their prince, while being reassured that he died with the benefit of the Sacraments of the Church. Pious thoughts are also offered:

"My kingdom is not of this world."

"It is the Lord who heals their broken hearts and binds their wounds."

"God will clothe him in a mantle of justice and place on his head a crown of glory."

"Merciful Jesus, give him eternal rest."

Four Generations of the Belgian Royal Family

A dynastic portrait showing young, intense Princess Elisabeth of Belgium, the future Nurse-Queen of the Great War, with her sons, Prince Leopold, future Leopold III, and Prince Charles, the future Regent. Behind Elisabeth, from left to right, are her in-laws and patriarchs of the Belgian royal family, Leopold I, Leopold II, and her own husband, Prince Albert, future Albert I. The portrait commemorates the 75th anniversary of Belgian independence in 1905, and suggests that the new kingdom is entering the new century with confidence, pride and high hopes for the future. 

Of course, not all the figures appearing in the picture actually met in real life. Leopold I, the founder of the Belgian branch of the Saxe-Coburgs, died in 1865, ten years before Albert's birth and eleven years before Elisabeth's. Leopold II only overlapped briefly with his great-nephews, Leopold and Charles. In L'éducation d'un prince (1984), a collection of interviews with Leopold III, he describes only a few childhood memories of meeting the very controversial Leopold II, on holiday at the seaside in Ostende. The sensitive, rather fragile-looking little boy had a recollection of his stern, bearded great-uncle pinching him on the cheeks and telling him to eat heartily and get strong! Leopold III also remembered that his parents never spoke of the scandals in their uncle's personal life that gave rise to so much gossip in Belgium and beyond. 

February 23, 1934: The Accession of Leopold III

On February 23, 1934, a day after the funeral of his tragically deceased father, Albert I, Leopold III, fourth King of the Belgians, ascended the throne. I have gathered a few contemporary descriptions of this sombre, but magnificent occasion. It was a moment of mingled joy, sorrow, wonder and hope.

Albert, King of the Belgians, warrior, statesman and sportsman, now belonged to history. And King Leopold III, in his turn, now belonged to the people of Belgium. Before middle age he was called upon to succeed a father who had set a standard of kingship of immaculate realism and democracy. That call had been so sudden, the circumstances surrounding it so tragic, that he could well have been forgiven a tremor of hesitancy. But the Royal stock of Belgium is sturdy. Leopold, in those critical days, acquitted himself with grace and honour. The boy who had "fagged" at Eton for the Duke of Gloucester now became the man prepared to serve a nation. His grief did not outstrip his courage or his sense of duty or his regal bearing. Behind him, he knew, was the trust and love and inspiration of his Queen, the friendship and confidence of his subjects. ~Michael Geelan

One of the most noble and touching sights of contemporary times was that of the young, handsome, forthright Leopold, head and hand raised, taking the Oath of Accession before his Throne in the Chamber of Deputies. In his first speech as king he said: "According to a solidly established tradition, the Belgian dynasty is at the service of the nation, and I am firmly resolved never to forget it." He glanced towards Queen Astrid - a stately figure in deep black, seated with her children in virgin white - and their eyes met. Then and there he told the august gathering of State that both he and they could depend upon the love and loyalty of the Queen. These were no idle words dove-tailed into the pattern of a formal and picturesque ceremony. They were sincere. They came, not only from his manuscript, but from his heart. All who heard them knew them to be true. ~Michael Geelan

The young and handsome couple were well fitted to be the protagonists in this deeply moving pageant. The new Queen was soon to become a mother again. Seated between her two children, who were as lively as crickets, she drove round the capital in the state coach. The new King, followed by the Count of Flanders, rode to the Chamber on horseback, as his father had done before him, and delivered his speech with quiet dignity. His next action had no precedent: he mounted his horse and rode round the city, only pausing once- before the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. 

When the new King and Queen appeared on the balcony of the Palace in the dazzling sunlight, she in black, he in the uniform of a Lieutenant-General, the people, still subdued by the sorrow of the previous day, felt as though they were gazing at a reincarnation of the spirit of spring. ~Charles d'Ydewalle

February 17, 1934: The Death of Albert I

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 at Marche-les-Dames, during a solitary rock-climbing excursion on the afternoon of February 17, 1934, cut short the life of this beloved monarch, at the age of 58. In the depths of the night, after hours of desperate search, his weeping attendants found him by the light of torches, spread-eagled at the foot of the Cliff of the Gentle God of Pity, soaked in his blood, his skull fractured. By a cruel coincidence, the Sovereign who had led independent Belgium to her centenary, four years earlier, had died only ten months before celebrating his Silver Jubilee. 

Grief, shock and disbelief swept through the Royal Family, 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 the frontiers of his realm. Meanwhile, throughout Flanders and Wallonia, as in 1914, the carillons tolled out the tocsin. In Brussels, amidst the moving and imposing funeral ceremonies, the people, braving pouring rain and icy fog, 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."The top of the head was heavily bandaged," wrote the British ambassador, George Clerk, "but the features were extraordinarily composed and peaceful, and death had removed the traces of many years".  

On February 22, as the funeral cortège 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. 

In a sermon to commemorate the Belgian dead of World War I, and the veterans who had passed away since the return of peace, the saintly Abbot of Orval, Dom Marie Albert van der Cruyssen, himself a war hero, and an intimate of King Albert, rendered a beautiful tribute to the deceased monarch: 

Ah, I cannot tell you all the good sentiments with which his heart was filled to overflowing, and which he poured out, in private, in confidences, which do not yet belong to the history of our time. But his public virtues can and must be known, those of the good father of a family, so attached to inculcating in his children integrity and self-sacrifice, those of the head of state, so concerned for justice and the happiness of all, and, above all, those of the great Christian who could tell himself each day: "I do not fear death, I am ready." If some were astonished, because, on the mask of the man who had died in such a tragic accident, there was such a peace, for, he was not - God is my witness, since I had the supreme consolation of giving, to this king and friend, the last blessing, before the lead coffin closed forever upon his august face - he was not, I say, disfigured, or disguised, he was great, calm, and beautiful in death, it is because he was great and beautiful in his life!

Mourning Ring

Commissioned and worn by Queen Victoria in honor of her husband. I always think he looked very much like the Belgian Albert.

A Charming Vignette

A letter from Albert Einstein to his wife Elsa from 1931 describes the charming hospitality and informality of King Albert and Queen Elisabeth among their friends.

I was received with touching warmth. These two people are of a purity and kindness seldom found. First we talked for about an hour. Then [the Queen and I] played quartets and trios [with an English lady musician and a musical lady-in-waiting]. This went on merrily for several hours. Then they all went away and I stayed alone for dinner at the King's- vegetarian style, no servants. Spinach and fried eggs and potatoes, period. (It had not been anticipated that I would stay). I liked it very much there, and I am certain the feeling is mutual. (Albert Einstein: The Human Side, 1989, p. 47)

Memory Lane

Since we are approaching the end of the year, and the fourth anniversary of The Cross of Laeken, I thought it might be fun to revisit some of my favorite posts from the past. (I was inspired to do so by Gio's recent post along the same lines).  Here are a few, in no particular order:

Lilian Baels and Jacqueline Kennedy: I include this one because it is a VERY popular article, apparently my second most popular article of all time. I suspect this is more because of Jackie's fame than Lilian's, but in any case, I do not mind the extra hits!

Princess Lilian: Loved and Loving: A post examining the stereotypes of Lilian Baels as cold and hard and attempting to demonstrate that she was much warmer, kinder and more loving than many realize.

The Conversion of Queen Astrid: An article about Astrid's spiritual journey from the Lutheranism of her childhood and family to the Catholicism of her husband and adopted country.

Queen of Children: A contemporary testimonial of Queen Elisabeth's touching dedication to the youngest Belgian victims of World War I.

A Queen to be Remembered: A profile of the first Queen of the Belgians, Louise-Marie of Orléans, who is often overshadowed by her later, more famous counterparts, such as Elisabeth and Astrid.

Marie d'Orléans: The favorite sister of Queen Louise-Marie, a spirited and artistic soul who sadly passed away from tuberculosis at age 25.

Albert I and the Sacred Heart: A remarkable account of Albert's meeting with Father Mateo Crawley-Boevey, a famous preacher of devotion and reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, during the priest's visit to Belgium in 1922.

The Perfume of Violets: Princess Marie-José's mysterious encounter with Padre Pio, the saintly Italian mystic.

Umberto and Maria José: Some thoughts on the lights and shadows of their marriage.

A Talk with a King: American war reporter Mary Roberts Rinehart's account of her audience with Albert I during the German occupation of Belgium. Albert expressed his anguish over the violation of Belgian neutrality and the cruel treatment of his people.

A Talk with a Queen: Mary Roberts Rinehart's meeting with Queen Elisabeth.

Armistice Day

I want to take a moment to commemorate all those who suffered and died during World War I. I especially want to remember the brave people of Belgium and their valiant King and Queen, truly innocent bystanders who were dragged into the slaughter against their will. The end of the war was a source of great joy for Albert and Elisabeth and their children, signaling the return of peace and freedom for their beloved country. It was, however, also a time tinged with sadness, as they were forced to witness the destruction of many of their fellow Christian monarchs. Meanwhile, the peace terms would leave the future unsettled and menacing for their own people.

Medal of Albert and Elisabeth

A beautiful one commemorating U.S. relief to Belgium in World War I. The profiles of the King and Queen are especially fine.

The King and his Ministers

Some interesting insights from Charles d'Ydewalle's Albert and the Belgians: Portrait of a King.

It almost seems as if, during those last years, no other mind had the power to influence his. It was often asked: "Who is influencing the King?" We should like to know whether the King of the Belgians had any favourites among his Ministers. There were a few whom he trusted, although he rarely praised them. It is said that he showed marked preference for M. Vandervelde. This is obviously untrue, since in spite of his obvious admiration for the mentality and wide knowledge of the Socialist Minister, he ignored him whenever he felt it expedient, just as he would ignore a Catholic or a Liberal. I have been shown numbers of letters signed with a firm and decided "A"; one and all are written in an even hand without erasures, and every downstroke has been traced with the same care and precision. They invariably begin: "My dear Minister," or "My dear Prime Minister," and are signed: "Your affectionate Albert." The style is classic in its perfection, the sentences are exquisitely balanced, show an extraordinary feeling for the mot juste, and convey in full the dignity of the writer. He hardly ever writes "I wish," but very often "I believe," and never "I am certain." Yet, when the day came for a Minister to receive his congé, he was given an audience...and all was over. 

Did his coldness contain an element of bitterness against Parliamentary mechanisms? I am tempted to believe so. The Belgian Constitution defines the power of the Monarch in a singular way. Each Party designates those of their members from whom he may select his Ministers. When Albert's Ministers had given up office, he took no further interest in them. He often esteemed, sometimes admired the colleagues who were temporarily imposed on him. He had great faith in a few. To one of the most distinguished of them he remarked: "You, at any rate, have always told me the truth." This, one might think, was a supreme compliment which should have raised the Minister to a pinnacle and made him the recipient of a host of small favours. It did not do so; the Minister in question was treated with the same official courtesy and tact as the rest. 

The Premier alone, the closest to his Royal master, was admitted with more intimacy into the daily round. If he were ill, he might telephone his business to the King. If the matter were urgent, he might hasten to Laeken, or, in case of need, to Ciergnon, where he would find the King in the woods, dressed as a day-labourer, planting or measuring oak-trees. Or he might find him buried in books and papers, making maps and sketches, in the interval between two excursions on his motorcycle. If the Premier stayed at Ciergnon, the Princes moved on to another floor and gave up their rooms to the distinguished visitor. It was a large, bare apartment. 

If any Minister, whether he were in office or not, suffered a bereavement, fell ill or was the victim of an accident, the King instantly showed that solicitude of which he was so chary in other circumstances. A former President of the Chamber, who had broken his arm, received a charming letter. I asked him if he were often honoured in this way. "No," he said. "We never see each other." The King treated the elderly statesmen with the special courtesy due to their years, and the younger men with a lighter touch more suited to their age. Each one might believe that he was more favoured than the rest, but not one of them could flatter himself that he had been admitted for all time into the circle of the King's intimate friends. On the other hand, if a political crisis arose, he would send for the leaders of all three parties-- even for those from whom he knew he would learn nothing. Thus no jealousy was occasioned; and the King treated them all alike, with ironic indifference or guarded admiration. One feels that his attitude to his Ministers was that of a master to his class. The types remain the same, although the individuals change; and it is incumbent upon him to devote himself entirely to this class, about which he has no illusions (pp. 232-234)

Allies

An interesting portrayal of King Albert I (bottom left) among the Allied heads of state during World War I.

Vierge des Pauvres

Another royal prayer card, showing King Leopold III with his tragically deceased father and wife and referencing the Marian apparitions at Banneux: "Virgin of the Poor, save Belgium!" 

The Fall of Liège

The Exiled Belgian Royalist remembers. Here is the noble letter that General Gerard Leman, now a prisoner of war, sent King Albert after the German capture of the forts of Liège on August 16, 1914. Leman had once been a military tutor to Albert.

After honourable engagements on August 4th, 5th, and 6th, I considered that the forts of Liege could only play the role of forts d'arret. I nevertheless maintained military government in order to coordinate the defense as much as possible, and to exercise moral influence upon the garrison.

Your Majesty is not ignorant that I was at Fort Loncin on August 6th at noon. You will learn with grief that the fort was blown up yesterday at 5.20 p.m., the greater part of the garrison being buried under the ruins.

That I did not lose my life in that catastrophe is due to the fact that my escort, Commandant Collard, a sub-officer of infantry who unfortunately perished, the gendarme Thevenim and my two orderlies, Vanden Bossche and Jos Lecocq, drew me from a position of danger, where I was being asphyxiated by gas from the exploded powder.

I was carried into a trench, where a German captain named Guson gave me a drink, after which I was made a prisoner and taken to Liege in an ambulance. I am convinced that the honour of our arms has been sustained. I have not surrendered either the fortress or the forts.

Deign, Sire, to pardon my defects in this letter. I am physically shattered by the explosion of Loncin. In Germany, whither I am proceeding, my thoughts will be, as they have ever been, of Belgium and the King. I would willingly have given my life the better to serve them, but death was denied me.

More on the battle of Liège, HERE.

Edith Cavell

History and Other Thoughts remembers the heroic Englishwoman and her terrible death. King Albert and Queen Elisabeth greatly admired Miss Cavell and tried to save her life. After her execution, the exiled Belgian sovereign was quoted as follows:

"Brussels will be haunted for ever by the ghost of this noble woman, shamefully murdered. I thought no act of our enemy could surprise me further. I was mistaken. This foul deed will live when great battles are forgotten."

Sculptures by Queen Elisabeth

In the past, I have discussed Elisabeth's sculpting lessons with Russian artist Catherine Barjansky, and the mutual admiration and affection that arose between the two women. Today, I stumbled across photographs of some of Elisabeth's sculptures, auctioned at Christie's as part of the art collection of the Queen's grand-daughter, Maria Gabriella of Savoy. Here is a bronze portrait of Elisabeth's sister, Sophie Adelheid, who married Count Törring-Jettenbach. During World War I, the Törrings, as well as  Elisabeth's cousins, Princes Xavier and Sixtus of Bourbon-Parma, formed part of King Albert's network of secret diplomatic channels vainly attempting to bring about peace. According to Queen Maria José of Italy, the daughter of Albert and Elisabeth, however, her father never had much hope for any of these initiatives in the first place.

Lest We Forget

Here is an article by Mary Roberts Rinehart reporting on wartime interviews with Albert and Elisabeth. It was exaggerated in Allied propaganda, but there *was* plenty of real brutality during the 1914 German invasion of Belgium, including massacres of civilians and sacking of towns. According to Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right, the King even feared that the Germans would destroy Brussels.

I have never before broken the silence of my interview with Elizabeth, Queen of the Belgians, that small, frail and heroic woman who has lived for three years under the roar of the artillery at Dixmude and Nieuport. But the time has come to break that silence. Not all can be told, but because an infamous report has been broadcast that Elizabeth of Belgium sympathizes with Germany I shall tell some of the things she said.

Again I quote from the notes of that interview: 

"It is the women and children!" she said. "It is terrible. There must be killing. That is war. But not this other thing." 

She could not understand American skepticism on this point. She had but just returned from England, where in one convent 29 Belgian nuns were enceinte by German soldiers. She had visited them. 

That to her was the most terrible thing of war. That these quiet women, living their devout and simple lives, should have suffered so grossly bewildered and dazed her. Was there nothing, then, sacred to these invaders, not even the church? (Read full article)