Recently, a Herald reader sent me a remarkable book which she had found, a decade ago, in a second-hand bookshop in Oxford.
Called King Albert's Book, this handsome, illustrated work was published late in 1914 as a joint enterprise between The Glasgow Herald, The Daily Telegraph and The Daily Sketch. The copy Val Cook of Dunoon lent me had originally been given as a present on December 25, 1914, by a mother to her son whose name, I think, after much deciphering, was Bannister Augustus Pietlofs.
This was not the sort of festive tome for someone to enjoy as they sipped a post-prandial glass of whisky. Then again, one suspects that many Christmases in 1914 were sombre affairs as the First World War's grip tightened. King Albert's Book is, rather, a compilation of tributes gathered in honour of Belgium's young monarch and his people as a mark of respect for their courage and endurance under German invasion. Proceeds from its sale were to go towards a Belgian fund.
The range of voices included is impressive, an indication of the reach of this newspaper and its collaborators, but also of the depth of feeling the outbreak of war inspired. Who knows how many copies Glasgow Herald readers bought but, browsing this book, one is conscious of encountering an unusual piece of history. Contributors include well-known names who would later become even more famous such as Winston Churchill and David Lloyd George, then Chancellor of the Exchequer and soon to be prime minister.
Alongside figureheads from across the world there are many outwith politics, such as novelists Jack London and Arnold Bennett, G K Chesterton and Marie Corelli; artists and actors, notably Claude Monet and Sarah Bernhardt; and musicians. While one would have liked to have seen Monet respond to the crisis in oils, he offers a simple but sincere salute to beleaguered Belgium. Debussy, however, specially composed a piece, Berceuse Heroique, in homage to the king and his soldiers. A musical coup, the sight of it sends a chill down the spine. Few would better appreciate what a neutral country like Belgium had risked by resisting the German army's attempt to march across it to France.
By Christmas 1914, thousands of Belgian citizens had been killed and many towns destroyed. With almost the entire country under occupation, hundreds of thousands of refugees fled the advancing army, while its ruler, Albert I, led his troops into battle, and spent the rest of the war in the trenches.
The atrocities inflicted by the invading Germans became known as the Rape of Belgium. Using that image, much propaganda in the early months of the war was lurid, intended to shame the United States into entering the war. What is striking about King Albert's Book, however, is that there is no sabre-rattling or prurience. It is filled only with sympathy, horror, admiration, and a desire for the conflict to end. Messages range from one-liners to melodramatic effusions, even from those whom one would have expected to be more restrained. John Galsworthy, for instance, describes a visionary dream of drowned Belgians who, after death, are turned into stars which, even in daytime, "shone there in the blue, crystals of immortality".
The flavour of Edwardian Britain rises off the pages with militaristic and spiritual vigour, not to mention a sprinkling of racism and jingoism. Above all, though, these salutations are marked by a strong vein of sentimentality. This may be in part a reflection of a more florid, mannered era, but it must also be a measure of how shocked and grieved the world was by the nightmarish carnage already witnessed. Had anyone been told there were another four years of slaughter ahead, I doubt they would have been able to lift their pens.
The outpourings of contributors come from the heart, and cannot be read without a pang. As 1914 drew to a dreary close, this book must surely have brought a morsel of cheer to those at the Front, as would the money it raised.
Anyone interested in following in the footsteps of readers from a century ago can find a copy of King Albert's Book in the reference department of the Mitchell Library. It was gifted by one Joseph Greig, Esquire, though presumably with less flourish and pride than when the volume was put into the hand of King Albert himself; or maybe not.
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