Umberto and Maria José

In response to questions, I wanted to share some thoughts on the troubled marriage of King Umberto II of Italy and Queen Maria José, daughter of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of Belgium.  For a more in-depth account, I can recommend this article by Cristina Siccardi, as well as the biographies of Umberto and Maria José by Luciano Regolo.

As a young bride, Maria José suffered from many nasty rumors. Evil tongues mocked her thick, curly hair by calling her la Négresse blonde, whispered that her children were not Umberto's, or suggested that they had been conceived artificially, since the princess had been unable to become pregnant for four years... The rumors were unsubstantiated, although Maria José loved to form friendships with artists and intellectuals and her bold, unconventional ways, like those of her Wittelsbach mother, probably fostered gossip. It is also probably true that Maria José and her husband were basically incompatible. The marriage had been arranged by the Belgian and Italian royal families to strengthen the friendship between their countries dating from the First World War.  The Treaty of Versailles also left very few Catholic reigning houses to provide suitors for Maria José. From childhood, she was raised by her mother to see Umberto as the perfect Prince Charming, arousing expectations of a great love which were later sadly disappointed. 

Umberto and Maria José had admiration, respect and affection for one another, but Umberto seems to have had trouble relating to his wife in a romantic way. My impression is that he loved her, but was not in love with her. Umberto was concerned and solicitous for his wife, but tended to be reserved and distant towards her. After the fall of the Italian monarchy and the exile of the Savoys, Maria José found  Portugal, the royal family's refuge, too depressing. She also had difficulty relating to her husband on a daily basis. While Maria José was much more open, Umberto tended to hide his feelings of deep sorrow and humiliation, to withdraw into silence. His wife came to believe that he needed space to deal with his inner turmoil. Accordingly, she moved to Switzerland, where she felt more cheerful.  Health reasons also contributed to her decision. The royal couple, however, always maintained cordial relations, and continued to visit one another. Umberto, who shared Maria José's cultural interests, assisted his wife with her prestigious historical research on the House of Savoy, and wrote her beautiful letters. Every month, he sent her a bouquet of red roses with an affectionate note. When Umberto was dying of cancer, his wife was at his side and they spent many tender hours together, holding hands.

There have been many allegations that Umberto was unfaithful, and even bisexual, but some skepticism may be in order, as many of these claims seem to have been fomented by the fascists, who saw the handsome, popular young prince as a potential threat to Mussolini. It is also known that Umberto was deeply religious and Maria José praised him in the highest terms, after his death, as a man of great moral rectitude and personal virtue who never lost his dignity or rigor, even amidst the most atrocious sufferings. In the end, I feel that the King and Queen had a good marriage.

Portraits of Princess Marie-José

Here are two contrasting portraits of the daughter of Albert and Elisabeth of Belgium who became Italy's last queen. The second picture, from 1935, is very sombre and perhaps reflects the suffering the princess endured in that period. The years leading up to the Second World War were marked by the loss of her father and her sister-in-law, Astrid of Belgium, as well as by marital unhappiness and growing concern at the political situation in Italy and Europe as a whole. Marie-José's face almost appears tear-streaked. In the first picture, on the other hand, she somehow seems more cheerful and outgoing.

Marie-José's Jewels

A few pieces, formerly belonging to Belgian-born Queen Maria José of Italy, which were auctioned at Christies' in June 2007. Included in the collection were a diamond and turquoise necklace and bracelet, given to the princess as wedding gifts from her parents, and an antique diamond and dark blue enamel bangle bearing the monogram of Tsar Nicholas I of Russia. More information and pictures here and here. Above, Maria José is shown wearing a diamond, pearl and yellow gold tiara, said to have been inherited from her great-aunt, Carlota of Mexico.

A Sad Anniversary

Today is the 30th anniversary of the death of the exiled King Umberto II of Italy, the husband of Marie-José, the beautiful, intelligent and free-spirited daughter of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of Belgium. 1983 must have been a very hard year for Marie-José. Within six months, between March and September, she lost not only her husband, but also her two brothers, Leopold and Charles. She herself would go on to live another 18 years. 

Below is a clip of Umberto's funeral ceremonies at the Abbey of Hautecombe, on the shores of the Lac du Bourget in Savoy, France. In attendance are not only the widowed Queen and her children, but many of the crowned heads of Europe, including Marie-José's nephew, King Baudouin of the Belgians, with his wife, Fabiola.

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.

Jewellery of the House of Savoy

An English edition of Princess Maria Gabriella's fine book. On the cover is one of my favorite photographs of her stunning mother, Marie-José of Belgium. I love the way Maria Gabriella keeps her mother's memory alive, much as her cousin, Princess Esmeralda, does for her father, King Leopold III of the Belgians. 

Close Calls

Anyone familiar with the history of the Belgian royal family knows that it has been plagued by tragedies. These have included the early deaths of two young heirs to the throne; Prince Leopold, son of King Leopold II and Queen Marie-Henriette, and his cousin, Prince Baudouin, the elder brother of King Albert I, as well as the ghastly accidents that claimed the lives of King Albert I and his daughter-in-law, Queen Astrid, in rapid succession. Members of the family have also experienced a number of close brushes with death which fortunately had happier outcomes. In 1957, for example, King Leopold III and his second wife, Princess Lilian, suffered a car accident bearing a frightening, eery resemblance to the crash that killed the King's first wife, Queen Astrid. On their way home from the unveiling of a bust of Albert I in Cortina d'Ampezzo, one of the favorite haunts of the Roi Alpiniste, the vehicle carrying Leopold and Lilian veered off course and plunged down a ravine about twenty meters deep (Les années 60 en Belgique, Pierre Stéphany, 2006, p. 124). Although the couple escaped unharmed, the similarity with the day in Küssnacht that he had unintentionally driven his beloved Astrid to her death must have been a double trauma for Leopold.

Another scare followed the very next year, and oddly enough offered an opportunity for Leopold to reassert his friendship and admiration for Britain, persisting from his days at Eton despite the terrible conflicts with Winston Churchill during World War II and the Royal Question:

Early in 1958, Leopold and his children had a frightening escape when the door of a Sabena Convair flew open ten minutes after taking off from Nice. Leopold and Prince Albert threw themselves on the smallest children, Marie-Christina, aged six, and Marie-Esmeralda, fifteen months, to save them from being sucked out. The pilot, an Englishman, Charles Bryant, flew the plane back to Nice Airport and landed safely. Afterwards, Leopold sent the pilot a telegram worded in an interesting and significant way. It read: "Congratulations on your flying skill and on your British pluck. Leopold." The coupling of the word "British" to "pluck" suffused the note with a special kind of intensity and warmth (Kings Without Thrones, Geoffrey Bocca, 1959, pp. 63-64).

During her bitter days of exile in Portugal, medical malpractice threatened the life of Leopold's sister, Queen Maria José of Italy, wife of King Umberto II, and, for a time, robbed her completely of her eyesight:

In Portugal Marie-José took the title of the Countess de Sarre. At least she could claim Belgian citizenship. Umberto was not even allowed an Italian passport. The Portuguese police gave him a travel document and that is all he possesses to this day. The Casa d'Italia was purchased and the man who only a few months earlier had possessed forty palaces and half a hundred shooting lodges settled down to contemplate what to do next. Marie-José, however, had still to taste the dregs of unhappiness. She fell ill, not too seriously, and by mistake was given plasma from the wrong blood group. Shortly afterwards she became partially paralyzed and completely blind. She moved to Switzerland for treatment and there she remained. Her sight was partially restored in so far as she was able to see downwards, but could not turn her eyes up. She bore this dark and hooded world with a noble dignity and devoted her time after that to a history- a friendly history- of the House of Savoy (Kings Without Thrones, Geoffrey Bocca, 1959, pp. 195-196).

Of course, the tragedy of Küssnacht was itself a near miss for Leopold. What might have happened if both the King and Queen had perished in the accident, and Leopold's brother, Prince Charles, had become Regent of Belgium early on? Or if Leopold only had died and Astrid had been left to reign on behalf of her son, King Baudouin, during his minority?

The Life of Queen Maria José

As May draws to a close, I encourage everyone to read this excellent account from the Mad Monarchist. I especially like his suggestion that the horrors of the hideous First World War may have enhanced the young Belgian princess' love of beauty.

The May Queen

Here are pictures of Italy's last queen, the only daughter of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians, as a thoughtful young girl, a glamorous princess and a loving mother. In some respects, she reminds me of her great-aunt Carlota, the doomed empress of Mexico. Both women were beautiful, brilliant Belgian princesses who wholeheartedly embraced the causes of their adopted countries. Each cherished idealistic hopes for the future, aspiring to do good, on a grand scale, for her subjects. Alongside her liberal and romantic husband, Maximilian I, Carlota wished to usher in a new era of enlightened rule in Mexico. Maria José, inspired by her parents' example, hoped to be a close collaborator of her husband, Umberto II, and to promote cultural and humanitarian projects in Italy as her mother had done so magnificently in Belgium. Like Carlota, Maria José was thwarted, betrayed, dethroned and forced into exile. In her last years, by a strange coincidence, she moved for some time to the Mexican city of Cuernavaca, once beloved by Carlota. She was fascinated by the sad life of her forebear. Fortunately, however, Maria José's family survived the disaster in Italy, in contrast to the murder of Maximilian. The Italian queen was also much better able to cope emotionally with her tragedies. Both Carlota and Maria José, however, certainly deserved a kinder fate.

Here are a few more posts on Maria José:

Her childhood during World War I

Her First Communion

Her wedding

Her marriage
Her visit to Padre Pio

Her opposition to fascism

Her message to the women of Italy

Her memoirs

Ioanna of Bulgaria

Another tragic sister-in-law of Queen Maria José. She was more fortunate than Astrid and Mafalda, though.

Memories of an Empress

Gio of History and Other Thoughts shares Belgian princess Marie-José's childhood impressions of her great-aunt, Carlota of Mexico.

The Testimony of Felix Kersten, masseur of Heinrich Himmler

For some time, I have hesitated to use this account, because Dr. Kersten apparently had a tendency to distort the facts in order to portray himself in a more heroic light. However, I have never heard of his testimony regarding Leopold III being challenged, although it has often been neglected. It has been taken seriously by respected scholars, such as Jean Vanwelkenhuyzen, an eminent Belgian authority on the Second World War. It is discussed by Michel Verwilghen in Le mythe d'Argenteuil (2006) and by Christian Laporte in an article dated March 1, 1996, and published in Le Soir, a testimony all the more surprising and compelling since it comes from a paper traditionally hostile to Leopold III. Kersten's description of Heinrich Himmler's venom against the King squares with the revelations of General Alexander von Falkenhausen, military governor of Belgium during the Nazi occupation, and with the memoirs of Paul Schmidt, Hitler's interpreter. Both men indicated that there was no love lost between the Nazi hierarchy and their royal captive, despite continuing claims that Leopold sympathized with their regime. The recent television documentary, Léopold III, mon père, mentions that highly placed Nazi leaders, towards the end of the war, were considering the deportation and even the execution of the King of the Belgians. As is well known, Leopold and his family would indeed be deported to Germany at the time of the Allied landings in Normandy, although they managed to survive their ordeal. In the light of all this, Kersten's testimony seems plausible.

Dr. Felix Kersten's story is a fascinating one. A talented Finnish masseur of Estonian origin, he was approached by the SS to soothe the stomach cramps of Heinrich Himmler. Although Kersten appears to have exaggerated his role at times, he was also genuinely heroic in using his privileged position to save the lives of many. Himmler seems to have spoken quite freely in Kersten's presence, fulminating against the King of the Belgians on several occasions. Kersten, in turn, secretly kept a diary of his patient's confidences. In 1995, four documents relating to Leopold III were discovered among Kersten's papers by Professor Léon Masset of the University of Amsterdam and published in an issue of La Révue générale dedicated to the Second World War, with a commentary by Jean Vanwelkenhuyzen. King Leopold's devoted widow, Princess Lilian, was intrigued and pleased by the discovery of the documents concerning her late husband, as well as stunned by the fact that it had taken fifty years for the materials to come to light. According to Kersten's testimony, far from viewing Leopold III as a friend, Himmler saw him as an obstinate, bitter foe, a puppet of the Jews and the Roman Catholic Church. He was outraged that the King, the son of a Coburg father and a Wittelsbach mother, should have resisted the German invasion. He was furious that Leopold had rebuffed Hitler's attempts to entice him into collaborating with the Third Reich. Himmler also hated Leopold's sister, Princess Marie-José, for her opposition to Hitler. Like her brother, he insisted, she had betrayed her German blood. With a great deal of patience and tact, however, taking advantage of the fact that Himmler needed his services, Felix Kersten managed to persuade him to treat Leopold in a humane and dignified manner. By March, 1945, however, Himmler had changed his mind, and decided to have him killed. Kersten had to intervene once again to save his life.

Little Princess Marie-José

Another precious royal baby.

Marie-José and Mussolini: Lovers?

This is one of the most revolting accusations I have ever seen. Shame on the Italian and other journalists who have been carelessly repeating the rumor. Few people can have been more viscerally opposed to Mussolini and fascism than the Princess of Piedmont, the daughter of one of the most liberal and democratic royal couples in Europe, Albert and Elisabeth of Belgium. I have never seen any evidence that Marie-José ever found Mussolini personally attractive, at all. It is true that she was naïve about fascism as a young bride, upon first arriving in Italy in 1930. As she candidly admitted to her biographer, Luciano Regolo, she initially had a good impression of Mussolini's political leadership, which was being widely praised throughout Europe. She noted the apparent order, efficiency and prosperity of Italy under the new regime. With her humanitarian concerns, she also appreciated certain social initiatives introduced by the fascists.

From the beginning, however, Marie-José came into conflict with the strident nationalism of the regime, resisting pressure to use the Italian form of her name, Maria Giuseppina. Soon, especially as she formed friendships with dissident intellectuals, such as Zanotti Bianco and Benedetto Croce, it became increasingly clear to the Princess that her beloved adopted country was headed on a downward spiral of tyranny. By 1938, according to documents in British archives, discussed by Luciano Regolo in his 2002 biography of Marie-José, she and her husband were involved in a plot to overthrow Mussolini, which would have prevented Italy from entering World War II at the side of Nazi Germany. King Victor Emmanuel III and his heir, Prince Umberto, were apparently to abdicate, placing Marie-José's infant son on the throne, with Marie-José as regent. The plans, of course, sadly came to nothing, but Marie-José, with Umberto's discreet support, would continue her intrigues against the fascist regime during the war. It is known that she did her best to further a separate peace between Italy and the Allies, through the Vatican, in secret meetings with Monsignor Montini.

In the Italian press, we are now asked to believe that all these dangerous, courageous political activities were merely manifestations of the fury of a woman scorned. The claim that Mussolini and Marie-José had a brief affair at some point supposedly emerges from a 1971 letter by one of the dictator's sons, Romano. Apparently, he heard the rumor from his mother.  I wonder, though, if it actually originated in the perverted, lascivious, and exhibitionist mind of Il Duce himself.  In Luciano Regolo's biography, Marie-José tells of a strange episode from her early days as Princess of Piedmont. On one occasion, Mussolini arrived at the Quirinal for a meeting with the King. An active patroness of the Red Cross, Marie-José took the opportunity to seek Mussolini's assistance in improving conditions in a northern Italian hospital, so poorly endowed that three female patients had to share the same bed, as she innocently explained to him. This remark seems to have stirred lewd fantasies in Mussolini's mind, as he immediately began trying to flirt with the Princess, both during the interview, and during a telephone call later that night. In her diary, Claretta Petacci, Mussolini's famous mistress, recorded that Mussolini had described to her, in lurid detail, how Marie-José had supposedly attempted to seduce him, during a meeting with the Italian royal family. Needless to say, this is totally implausible. Aside from Marie-José's upright character, how could anyone believe she would behave so before the eyes of her father-in-law, the King, her mother-in-law, the Queen, and her own husband, the heir to the throne, not to mention the Duce's entourage and representatives of the press? If, however, Mussolini was given to spreading such stories, it might explain the origin of the rumor that he was Marie-José's lover. The Princess was obviously a very beautiful woman and she may well have attracted Mussolini's untoward attention. It is unthinkable, though, that she returned any such interest, and I am heartily glad that both Princess Maria Gabriella and Prince Victor Emmanuel have vigorously denounced these horrible slurs against their late mother's reputation.

Maria Pia, Maria Gabriella, and Maria Beatrice

Here are some video tributes to the two eldest daughters of King Umberto II and Queen Maria José,  Princess Maria Pia and Princess Maria Gabriella, with many interesting pictures I had never seen before.

In addition, here is a clip of their younger sister, Princess Maria Beatrice, visiting an exhibit of Flemish art. It seems quite suitable, considering that Maria Beatrice's mother was a Belgian princess!

Princesse Rayon de Soleil

A postcard of "Princess Sunbeam", little Marie-José, helping Belgian refugees during the First World War. The image is no mere sentimental myth. At an early age, the little Princess had already embraced the charitable functions of royalty. When she was only eight years old, she wrote that if she ever became a queen, she wanted to be given all the names of the poor of her new country, in order to be able to give something to each one.

The Farewell of the May King

June 13, 2011 will mark the 65th anniversary of the sad farewell of King Umberto II to his beloved Italy. Savoy biographer Cristina Siccardi, in a fine article on Umberto's life, includes the noble last message he addressed to the Italian people upon departing into exile, following the dubious referendum that abolished the monarchy and established the republic. Here is a translation:

Italians!

While the Country, barely emerged from a tragic war, sees her frontiers menaced, and her own unity in peril, I believe my duty is to do all that I still can in order that further sorrow and further tears may be spared the people who have already suffered so much.

I trust that the Magistrature, whose traditions of independence and liberty are among the glories of Italy, will be able to have its free say, but not wanting to oppose force to the abuse of power, nor to render myself complicit in the illegality that the government has committed, I leave the threshold of my Country, in the hope of averting from the Italians new struggles and new sorrows. Accomplishing this sacrifice in the supreme interest of the Fatherland, I feel the duty, as an Italian and as a King, to raise my protest against the violence which has been committed, a protest in the name of the Crown and of all the people, within and without the borders, who had the right to see its destiny decided with respect for the laws, and in such a manner as to dissipate every doubt and every suspicion. 

For those who still maintain fidelity to the Monarchy, for those whose spirit rebels against injustice, I record my example, and I exhort them to avoid worsening the dissensions which would threaten the unity of the Country, fruit of the faith and the sacrifice of our fathers, and which could render more severe the conditions of the peace treaty. 

With a spirit full of sorrow, but with the serene consciousness of having made every effort to carry out my duties, I leave my country. Let those who have taken the oath and kept faith through the hardest trials, consider themselves released from their oath of allegiance to the King, but not from their oath of allegiance to the Country. I think of all those who have fallen in the name of Italy, and I salute all the Italians. Whatever destiny awaits our Country, she will always be able to count on me, as on the most devoted of her sons. 

Long live Italy! 

June 13, 1946 

The Art of Madame de Caraman Chimay

Countess Ghislaine de Riquet de Caraman Chimay (1865-1955) was a loyal lady-in-waiting and brave companion of Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians during World War I. Like her mistress, the Countess was a talented artist. Here are two of her pastel drawings, from her days at La Panne, known as the 'Green Pearl' of the Belgian coast, near the French border. The Belgian Royal Family took up residence in La Panne in a modest brick villa in October 1914 following the German invasion of Belgium in August. Both works displayed here formed part of the art collection of Queen Elisabeth's grand-daughter, Princess Maria Gabriella of Savoy, which was auctioned at Christie's in 2007.

An intimate scene of King Albert I, Queen Elisabeth and perhaps Prince Leopold, the future King Leopold III, entitled La Chambre du Roi ('The King's Room'), signed and dated 'Ghislaine de Caraman-Chimay/1917'.

A portrait of Maria José, Queen of Italy, as a child, signed, inscribed and dated 'La Panne. 1916 - /S.A.R. La Princesse/Marie-José ecoutant/une belle histoire a la/lueur de la lampe/G de Caraman Chimay' ('La Panne. 1916-/H.R.H. Princess/ Marie-José listening/ to a beautiful story by the/ light of the lamp/ G de Caraman Chimay').

Cuernavaca

Here are some glimpses of the landscape, town and churches of Cuernavaca, the vibrant Mexican "city of eternal spring" associated with two Belgian princesses. The unfortunate Empress Carlota of Mexico, daughter of King Leopold I and Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians, adored Cuernavaca and spent vacations there, at the spectacular Borda Gardens, with her husband, Emperor Maximilian I. It was also from Cuernavaca that she set out for Europe to appeal, in vain, for support for her husband's doomed cause. Over a century later, Carlota's great-niece, Queen Maria José of Italy, daughter of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians, moved to Cuernavaca. In 1991, the aged, tired, depressed Queen arrived from Switzerland, initially for a brief vacation, at the invitation of her youngest daughter, Princess Maria Beatrice, and her son-in-law, Argentinian diplomat Luis Reyna Corvalàn, then living in Cuernavaca. Like her great-aunt Carlota, however, Maria José fell in love with the city, and she decided to settle there for a time.

Reinvigorated by the climate and the energy of the place, touched by the warmth of the people, she regained her humor, curiosity, fighting spirit and love of life. (She said that her beloved old dog, Alaska, was also restored by his new environment). She spent four culturally active, sociable years, in a modest, welcoming, single-storey villa, at 1005 Palmira Avenue, becoming increasingly close to Maria Beatrice and her husband, before before returning to Switzerland to live with her son, Victor Emmanuel, and his wife, Marina Doria. According to Luciano Regolo, Maria José's home in Cuernavaca clearly reflected her spirit: her reserved, but constant sentiments, her cult of history and art, her preference for lively colors and her cheerful irony. She was assisted by a small, but loyal and affectionate entourage: a talkative lady-in-waiting, Madame Claudine Estrayer, a French-speaking secretary, Monsieur Dominique Voghel, who kept the Queen in contact with the courts and cultural institutions of Europe, a Spanish teacher, and medical, security and household staff, including the Queen's majordomo, Juan, and her housekeeper, Zenaida Isabel. Many distinguished visitors, ranging from Mexican ministers to European ambassadors, as well as her own nephew and niece, King Albert II and Queen Paola of the Belgians, came to pay their respects to Maria José in Cuernavaca.

Maria José had vivid childhood memories of her great-aunt Carlota, whom she had visited as a little girl with her parents. Albert and Elisabeth had taken their daughter to pay their respects to the tragic, deranged, exiled empress, living in seclusion in the Flemish castle of Bouchout. According to her later account, recorded by her biographer, Luciano Regolo, Maria José doubted Carlota's insanity. During Maria José's childhood visit, the old lady, after appearing lost and vacant, suddenly changed completely when Albert and Elisabeth, who were talking among themselves, were trying to remember the name of a newly appointed minister of state. Interrupting the conversation, Carlota supplied all the particulars of the person in question. The little princess was stunned; whereupon, Carlota turned and confided to her: "I will tell you a secret: when you want to escape from your past, pretend to be mad. Nobody will ask you any more indiscreet questions". In her last years, following her move to Mexico, Maria José's interest in Carlota's life would deepen.

The Queen also became increasingly intrigued by Mexican history, archaeology and culture in general. She was fascinated by the pre-colonial period, and tended to sympathize with the native populations rather than the Spanish conquistadors. (In this respect, she resembled her brother, King Leopold III of the Belgians, who was also sharply critical of many colonial methods, once again giving the lie to those who portray the entire Belgian royal family as ruthless imperialists). Maria José also developed a great admiration for the Mexican revolutionary, Emiliano Zapata, devouring biographies of her hero, laying flowers at his tomb, and proudly displaying a large portrait of him on her wall. Some suggested to her that it was inappropriate for a queen to honor a revolutionary. The always broad-minded Maria José, however, viewed the matter differently. Zapata, she believed, deserved every respect, since he had been willing to die for his ideals of "land and liberty", ideals which raised him above partisan differences. Maria José also had a more humorous encounter with Mexican history on a visit to Oaxaca. The local authorities were enthusiastically praising President Benito Juarez, who had been responsible for the execution of Emperor Maximilian I. Amused by the irony of her situation, the Queen carefully avoided reminding her hosts that the figure in question had killed her great-uncle...

Interview with Princess Maria Gabriella

This month, it seems appropriate as usual to remember the May King and May Queen of Italy. Here is an interesting interview (in Italian) of their second daughter, charming Princess Maria Gabriella, the historian of the family.  After the exile of the house of Savoy, in 1946, and their move to Portugal, Maria Gabriella's parents separated; their three daughters remained in Cascais with their father, while their son lived in Switzerland with his mother. The princesses only visited the Queen about once a year! An affectionate and attentive parent, the King raised his daughters with the help of an Irish governess. Maria Gabriella absorbed her father's humanitarianism, his concern for the poor and the needy, along with her mother's intellectualism, her love of beauty and culture. The King and Queen had different approaches to their faith. Umberto was a deeply observant Roman Catholic. Maria José, although a sincere Christian, also felt the need to explore other religions and philosophies. (In this respect, she reminds me of her mother, Queen Elisabeth of Belgium). She was interested in yoga. Maria Gabriella, however, followed her father's example, always remaining traditional in her spirituality. Her devotion to her faith would prevent her from accepting the hand of the Shah of Iran, Mohamed Reza Pahlavi, who proposed marriage to the Italian princess during her youth, on condition that she publicly abjure Catholicism and convert to Islam. Although assured that she could continue to practice her Catholic faith privately after her marriage, Maria Gabriella declined the Shah's proposal. (Thank goodness, as she would otherwise have been swept up in the Iranian Revolution!) The Savoys, however, remained on friendly terms with Reza Pahlavi. Like her mother, Queen Maria José, Maria Gabriella has since devoted her life to researching and illuminating the history of her family, becoming a guardian of the memory of the house of Savoy.