Portrait of a King

In Chapter 15 of Portraits with Backgrounds, entitled "Portrait of a King," Russian sculptress Catherine Barjansky movingly recalls Albert I of Belgium. The author and her husband, famed musician Alexandre Barjansky, happened to be in Egypt at the time of the King's tragic death in a climbing accident in 1934. Alexandre Barjansky had been giving a series of concerts in Egypt, and his wife was doing some work for the Egyptian department of the Belgian Museum. Mme. Barjansky writes: 

...(W)e were staying at the same hotel as Jean Capart, director of the Belgian Museum. One morning when my husband and I were breakfasting with Monsieur and Madame Capart, the director was called to the telephone. He went out into the lobby where we heard him utter a loud exclamation. We ran out to him. 

"How terrible!" he exclaimed. "Our King is dead."

We went at once to the embassy, crowded with Belgians in tears. There was no one who did not have great esteem and admiration for this man, so good and noble, so just and intelligent. For me, it was the first genuine grief of my life. I had known him well, had talked with him for many hours. He was a rare human being, completely unselfish, a scholar and a philosopher, simple and shy and good. 

And I remembered how he had told me once: "If I were free to do what I like, I would go to the mountains and remain there. I would rather do that than anything in the world." 

Ceremonies, receptions, official affairs were torture to him. His greatest happiness had been the evenings that he spent alone with the woman whom he referred to not as "the Queen" but as "my wife." They loved to spend their evenings together, dining in the park, sitting on a bench at a rustic garden table, eating cold food from a tray, or in front of the fireplace while she read aloud to him. 

King Albert had the highest admiration for the cleverness, culture, and intelligence of his Queen, but he was very humble about himself...

He bitterly despised both Hitler and Mussolini. On one occasion he told me: "I am constantly amazed by the King of Italy. If such a thing were to happen here in Belgium I would pack my baggage and get out, but I would not permit another man to rule the country in my place." He made this statement quite openly, though his daughter at that time was married to the son of the King of Italy.

Another time, speaking of dictators, he said to me: "I think I have prepared my son to be a king far better than any man could be prepared to be a dictator"... 

It is a curious thing that in Egypt, the land of death, I took part in the mass for the King.

"What am I to do?" the Belgian minister said. "I must have music for the church ceremony."

"I will provide that," my husband offered.

"In the church there is to be an empty coffin. It should bear a royal crown, and how is that to be done?"

"I will do that," I said. "Give me a drawing of the Belgian crown"...

...I made the royal crown of wire... I gilded it, and put inside a piece of red velvet and modeled two scepters of plaster. The crown was then placed on the coffin and two velvet cushions at its foot, while my husband, behind the altar, played and conducted a little orchestra in Bach and Gluck and played the Brabançonne (the Belgian national anthem) with muted strings, while his moving and wonderful sonority was so filled with his grief that those who were praying in the church were touched to tears. It is a strange thing that we two foreigners should both have contributed, far away in Egypt, to the ceremony for the King we esteemed and loved so much. 

Marche Funèbre

The Marche Funèbre from Chopin's opus 35, played by Valentina Igoshina.

In her memoirs, discussing her father's last years, Marie-José writes: 

En effet, plus les années avançaient et plus mon père semblait se détacher des contingences de ce monde. Son esprit voyait les problèmes d'une manière de plus en plus élevée, n'en rétirant que l'essentiel. Une grande tolérance envers l'humanité tempérait toujours davantage son esprit critique....Par contre, son émotivité s'était accrue avec les années. Je me souviens des larmes qui embuèrent ses yeux au dernier accord de la Marche Funèbre de l'opus 35 de Chopin que je lui jouai un jour, à cette époque. 

In fact, the more the years passed, the more my father seemed detached from the contingencies of this world. His mind saw problems in a more and more elevated manner, only taking from them what was essential. A great tolerance towards humanity tempered, ever increasingly, his critical spirit... On the other hand, his emotivity had grown with the years. I remember the tears which filled his eyes at the last chords of the Funeral March of Chopin's opus 35, which I played for him one day, during this period. 

Listen to the Marche Funèbre and say a prayer for King Albert's soul on the (75th) anniversary of his death. 

In Memoriam: King Albert I of the Belgians

On February 17, 1934, King Albert I of the Belgians died tragically in an apparent mountaineering accident in the Ardennes. His daughter, Queen Marie-José of Italy, tells the famous story in her memoirs:

17 février 1934!

La nouvelle de l'accident fatal me parvint le 18 au matin, mais sans aucun détail. Accident de montagne en Belgique, comment était-ce possible?

Avec son affectueuse délicatesse, Umberto me fit comprendre que tout espoir était perdu. Frappée par la soudaineté du choc, je ne parvenais pas à réaliser l'étendue de mon malheur. L'immobilité m'était intolérable, je marchais de long en large. Umberto restait à mes côtés, cherchant à me reconforter.

La mort avait surpris mon père dans le site sauvage et solitaire des falaises de la Meuse. Afin de s'entrâiner pour ses ascensions d'été il escaladait, dans l'après-midi du 17 février, les rochers abrupts de Marche-les-Dames, plus précisément la roche dite du Bon Dieu. La crête à laquelle il avait accroché la corde céda brusquement, l'entrâinant dans une chute vertigineuse. Précipité en arrière, il se fracassa le tempe contre une arête douze mètres plus bas, mais roula encore une trentaine de mètres. On ne retrouva sa dépouille que tard dans la nuit, enfouie sous un amas de feuilles mortes.

Ma mère, surmontant son chagrin, m'écrivit: "Mon immense douleur ne m'empêche pas de penser à la tienne. Je sais combien tu es malheureuse. Papa t'aimait tant. J'espère que ce choc n'a pas nui à ta santé, doublement précieuse en ce moment (j'attendais mon premier enfant). Mon malheur est infini et le vide se fera sentir journellement plus grand."

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 led 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 grief 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 my loss, each day, will feel greater."

Photos:

above: Le Calvaire du Bon Dieu de Pitié, Marches-les-Dames

below: Commemorative cross, where Albert's body was found (credits and licensing information here)

Lying-in-state of the King

The guard of honor

Einstein's letter of condolence to Queen Elisabeth

Leopold & Astrid

During the post-war "Royal Question," Leopold's political enemies repeatedly opposed the memory of the immensely popular Queen Astrid to her husband. In anti-Leopoldist propaganda, the Queen was always portrayed as the much-regretted  pure et sainte Astrid, while the King was reviled as a traitor, a pro-Nazi, and a libertine. His second wife, Princess Lilian, was similarly branded a fascist sympathizer and an unscrupulous adventuress. One propaganda poster, which promoted the idea of Leopold's abdication in favor of his son, Prince Baudouin, featured a soulful picture of Queen Astrid, with the caption: Majesté, vous demeurez notre Reine, votre fils sera notre Roi ("Your Majesty, you remain our Queen, your son will be our King").

This is sheer demagoguery. I am not denigrating Astrid; on the contrary, I think she was a wonderful woman of great purity, humility, and generosity. Her popularity was fully merited. Yet there is a contradiction in the opposition of Leopold and Astrid. The couple were always known for their deep mutual love. It is an insult to Astrid's memory, as well as to Leopold, to present the King as a worthless scoundrel; the implication is that Astrid foolishly bestowed her love on a villain. Those who try to exalt Astrid at Leopold's expense indirectly undermine the Queen's prestige as well.

Astrid's close friend, Swedish noblewoman Anna Sparre, in her book, Astrid mon amie, counteracts any false oppositions between the King and the Queen. She calls Leopold and Astrid "kindred souls," remarkably alike in character. She makes this point especially clear when she cites a Belgian contemporary of the royal couple, who, in thoughtful terms, described both Leopold and Astrid as deeply good, and as so clearly so that they immediately conquered their people's hearts:

Le roi et la reine sont certes beaux, doués, et bons, mais il y a d'autres personnes belles, douées, et bonnes dans le monde qui, même s'il elles avaient été à leur place, ne seraient pas devenues aussi populaires. Ce qui distingue le couple royal, c'est qu'il est également capable de montrer toutes ces qualités de la manière la plus adéquate... Ils sont tous deux foncièrement bons et savent montrer qu'ils sont ainsi...Le roi et la reine méritent la popularité qu'ils ont acquise et qu'ils garderont car ils sont vraiment sincères.

The King and the Queen are, certainly, handsome, gifted, and good, but there are other people who are handsome, gifted, and good in this world who, even if they were in their place, would not have become so popular. What distinguishes the royal couple is that they are also able to demonstrate all these qualities in the most adequate manner...They are deeply good and are able to show that they are so...The King and the Queen merit the popularity that they have acquired and that they will keep, for they are truly sincere.

Sadly, while Astrid never lost her popularity, a long campaign of calumny would ruin Leopold's reputation. Particularly cruel and unjustified was the idea, promoted by the King's enemies, that Leopold was unworthy of Astrid, a charge reinforced by the widespread portrayal of his second marriage as a "betrayal" of his first wife's memory. The opposition of Leopold and Astrid, at times, went to fantastic lengths. As Roger Keyes relates, in Outrageous Fortune, after the Belgian capitulation in World War II, when a number of Allied leaders were falsely accusing Leopold of collaboration with the Nazis, certain newspapers even charged the King with deliberately causing the car accident in Switzerland in order to murder his wife! In addition, the "ghost of Queen Astrid" reportedly appeared to several London mediums, presumably to corroborate the French and British condemnations of Leopold's political conduct.

Of course, such absurd stories could not last long, but the exaltation of Astrid at Leopold's expense has persisted to the present day. In contrast, we have Astrid's own words to a close friend (cited by Keyes): "I do not believe there is any man in the world who better deserves to be loved."

On Leopold's side, there is a tragic yet beautiful testimony of his deep love and regard for his wife, recorded in the memoirs of his secretary, Robert Capelle, Dix-huits ans auprès du roi Léopold. Following Queen Astrid's death, the King, still weak and shocked from the accident, and recovering from serious injuries, confided, in a voice broken by sobs, to Capelle:

"Pourquoi le Bon Dieu me-l'a-t-il reprise? Nous étions si heureux!...Elle l'est encore...Mais moi! J'ai tant besoin qu'elle me protège... L'an dernier, nous étions tous deux à supporter une peine immense... Maintenant, je suis seul..."

"Why did the good God take her away from me? We were so happy!... She is still so... But me! How I need her to protect me... Last year [the date of the death of his father, King Albert] there were two of us to endure an immense grief... Now, I am alone...."

Both Leopold and Astrid come across as very noble people.

Announcements

As some of my readers may have noticed, I have removed some photographs and articles from my blog. I am planning, in the future, to post fewer photographs on their own, and to try, instead, to integrate pictures with articles. (I have, for instance, removed some photos from the sidebar and added them to older posts). I am also planning to re-work some of the material I had previously quoted from Mrs. Barjansky's memoirs.

Portraits with Backgrounds

In 1947, Russian sculptress Catherine Barjansky, wife of celebrated cellist Alexandre Barjansky, published her memoirs, Portraits with Backgrounds. Through her work, as an itinerant artist, specializing in wax modeling, she became acquainted with many of the great European figures of her day ; under her pen, their personalities come to life - portraits in words to match her portraits in wax. She writes with warmth of heart and depth of soul. 

The author and her husband were friends of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of Belgium, and Mrs. Barjansky devotes several chapters of her memoirs to the Belgian royal family. Her portrayal of Albert and Elisabeth is charming, intimate, and touching; she obviously felt great admiration and affection for them. Albert Einstein, another friend of the Belgian royal family (and, in fact, of the Barjanskys) once described Albert and Elisabeth as two individuals characterized by a rare "purity and kindness." Mrs. Barjansky's description of the Belgian royal family creates the same impression of nobility and generosity. 

I will be posting on Catherine Barjansky's portrayals of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth. 

Accession Speech of Albert I, 1909

King Albert on his accession day

Here are some excerpts from the accession speech of King Albert I. I think they provide interesting insights into his political goals and ideals.  

... Gentlemen, more and more the moment has come for Belgium to recognize her destiny and to look the facts of the future in the face. In the course of an existence of three-quarters of a century she has realized- surpassing the most optimistic previsions of her founders - that she is happy and that she is rich. But riches create responsibilities for countries, as for individuals. The intellectual and moral forces alone of a nation are the foundations of its prosperity.

It behooves us to prolong a brilliant era by embuing ourselves with the ideas and principles which are the tradition of the Belgians - the steadfast attachment to all our constitutional liberties, the love of our independence, wisdom and reasonableness in public affairs - it is thus that the Belgian people will maintain intact their sacred patrimony, created by the labor of so many generations. They will march on towards the pacific conquests of labor and service, while the artists and writers of Flanders and Wallonia will strew the way with their masterpieces... 

Gentlemen, I have a very clear conception of my duty...It is necessary that the Sovereign should hold himself with entire loyalty above all parties. It is necessary that he should be watchful for the maintenance of the vital forces of the nation. It is necessary that he should be ceaselessly attentive to the voice of the country, and be watchful with solicitude over the welfare of the poor. The Sovereign should be the servant of the law and the upholder of social peace. 

May God help me to fulfill this mission! As for myself, I shall always be ready to second the efforts of those who work for the grandeur of the country and who, filled with the spirit of concord and social advancement, raise the intellectual and moral level of the nation, develop education and instruction, and assure to the masses greater well-being.

I love my country; the Queen shares my sentiments of unalterable fidelity to Belgium; we imbue our children with them, and we awaken in them at the same time love of their native land, love of their family, love of labor, love of good. These are the qualities which render nations strong.

Gentlemen, the reception which has been given to me has touched me profoundly. I see in it a proof of confidence which honors me as well as sustains me. I will exert myself to merit it. In taking the constitutional oath, I swear to myself and to the country, to fulfill scrupulously my duties and consecrate all my forces and all my life to the service of the Fatherland. 

(Quoted by Evelyn Graham in Albert, King of the Belgians)

Two Marriages

Engagement of Prince Leopold of Belgium and Princess Astrid of Sweden, 1926. 
Engagement of King Leopold III and Lilian Baels, 1941. 

Queens & Mothers

Queen Elisabeth of Belgium with her two sons, Leopold and Charles.
Queen Marie-José of Italy with her son, Victor Emmanuel. 
Queen Astrid of Belgium with her son, Prince Albert (the present King of the Belgians, as Albert II), shortly before her tragic death. 

"Il leoncino di Laeken"

A photo of Princess Marie-José of Belgium as a little girl. Luciano Regolo entitled the first chapter of his excellent biography of Marie-José Il leoncino di Laeken, or "The Lion-cub of Laeken." It is easy to see why! There is an amusing story behind this nick-name. Once, when Eugene Ysaye, the famous Belgian violinist (and an intimate of the royal family) met the princess as a child, he exclaimed: "Here's the lion-cub!" Little Marie-José responded: "Watch out! Lions are carnivores!"