The Cross of Laeken

Léopold III: mon père

2012-01-30T02:04:00.000-05:00

My apologies for the delay in posting the final installment of the series on the captivity of King Leopold III and his family; I hope to have it up soon. Meanwhile, however, I was delighted to find that the moving RTBF documentary, Léopold III, mon père, directed by Nicolas Delvaulx, is now available for sale on DVD. Princess Esmeralda, the King's beautiful, intelligent, gracious youngest daughter, contributes richly to the film with her insights into her father's great humanity. For the first time, she also discusses at length the fateful, heart-wrenching decision that fell to his lot, as to whether he should remain in Belgium to assist his people during the Nazi occupation or escape into exile with his government before being forced to surrender to the Germans... In Esmeralda's company, we visit important places in Leopold's life, such as Eton, where he studied as a youth, suffering from the separation from his parents, King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth, during World War I. We travel to the castle of Hirschstein, on the Elbe, where he was held hostage with his family under harsh conditions from 1944-1945. Born in 1956, Esmeralda was fortunately spared this terrible experience. On a more cheerful note, there is interesting footage of Leopold's tropical expeditions in his later years, supplemented with images of his collections of zoological specimens gathered from around the globe. We also gain a glimpse of the chalet of Hinteriss, in the Austrian Alps, a family holiday home charmingly decorated by Esmeralda's mother, the King's second wife, Princess Lilian. Esmeralda's reflections upon her mother's life are quite poignant. As she used to tell her daughter, Lilian had the good fortune to marry the Prince Charming of her dreams. However, her wedding day, which ought to have been the happiest of her life, was actually the saddest, as she had to marry her beloved in secrecy and mourning, in a sombre black dress, in fact. The relentless hatred and opprobrium she faced for the rest of her life rendered her especially sensitive and emotionally vulnerable. She even remarked, with a certain ironic humor, that she was glad she would not be around to see all the brutal articles which would appear in the papers after her death. Also poignant are the interviews with Esmeralda's late brother, Prince Alexandre, who passed away during the production of the film. He comes across as a thoughtful, serious, sensitive person. Sadly, the documentary is only available in French, with Dutch subtitles.

The Art of Evariste Carpentier

2012-01-18T14:30:00.000-05:00

Here are a few examples of the paintings of the Belgian impressionist, Evariste Carpentier (1845-1922). As Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians was such a great patroness of the arts, it seems appropriate to share them on this blog. Carpentier's paintings seem more cheerful to me than the works of many French impressionists.

Hirschstein

2012-01-18T00:02:00.000-05:00

A magnificent panoramic view. The site of so much suffering on the part of King Leopold III and his family, the castle was later turned into a children's sanatorium.

The Royal Family in Captivity: Part III

2012-01-17T02:19:00.001-05:00

Prince Baudouin, the heir to the throne, at Hirschstein

(Continued from Part I and Part II)

As we recently celebrated Epiphany, perhaps it is appropriate to recall how the royal hostages spent their first Christmas in captivity at the dreary fortress of Hirschstein. Shortly before Christmas, Hitler had sent a message to his prisoners, grandiosely inquiring if they had any wishes he might grant. Wary of being placed in their enemy's debt, King Leopold and his family had only one request: they would be glad to have a priest to celebrate midnight Mass. A man in clerical garb promptly arrived, claiming to be a priest from the medieval monastery of Klosterneuberg, founded, ironically enough, by St. Leopold of Babenburg, Margrave of Austria. Posing as sympathetic and solicitous, the man offered to hear the prisoners' confessions. The quick-witted Princess Lilian, who was familiar with Klosterneuberg, had the good sense to cross-question him first, to determine whether he were an impostor. Finding that he was unable even to give a correct reply concerning the location of his supposed monastery, she quietly told her husband that the man was certainly not from Klosterneuberg, and that she doubted whether he were a priest at all. As described in Un couple dans la tempête, however, King Leopold indulged his ironic sense of humor by agreeing to let the man hear his confession and by submitting to a series of highly indiscreet questions under the guise of fatherly pastoral care. As the impostor prepared to deliver absolution, however, his royal penitent stopped him and sent him away, unmasked. Together with his family and small band of faithful followers, all King Leopold could do to commemorate Our Savior's birth was to sing Minuit Chrétien and Stille Nacht, to piano accompaniment. Princess Lilian gave the royal children watercolors she had painted using a box of colors smuggled into her luggage on the journey from Brussels. She had fashioned the picture-frames out of branches gathered in the small garden of Hirschstein.

As always, the King was determined that his household should display dignity and courage in adversity and resist the temptation to despair. Christmas was not the first time that they had bravely improvised a humble, poignant celebration. On July 21, 1944, just over a month after their deportation, they had fervently celebrated their national holiday, albeit with meagre means. They had managed to construct a Belgian flag, using strips of red, yellow and black fabric, stitched together with vegetable fibers. The flag was draped over the poorly tuned piano, and M. Weemaes was able to play a few measures of the Belgian national anthem, the Brabançonne, bringing tears to the eyes of his fellow sufferers. Throughout the long months at Hirschstein, the King and his officers wore their uniforms at table and the children's lessons and games continued. Princess Lilian even composed and directed a play, Pygmalion, giving roles to the different members of the family. Whenever possible, the children exercised outside, in the small garden. They suffered severely from malnutrition. Albert eventually developed hunger edema; little Alexandre, rickets. In January, 1945, while the princes were helping to build a sled, Albert also seriously injured his thigh. Mishandled by an S.S. officer, the wound became dangerously infected and began to putrefy. At Lilian's insistence, the family's gaoler, the S.S. Colonel Lürker, perhaps afraid of being blamed for the death of a royal hostage, summoned a distinguished physician from Dresden, Professor Lang, to treat the prince. The man was obliged to disinfect and bandage the gangrenous wound in silence, as he had been forbidden to speak with the prisoners. Thankfully, Albert's leg was saved. A Nazi physician, Dr. Ghebart, also arrived to examine the boy, sadistically seizing the opportunity to shock Leopold and Lilian with descriptions of the experiments he had secretly performed upon political prisoners in concentration camps. The King's blood froze with horror. Leopold and Lilian also had the frightening feeling that their tormentor did not expect them to live to repeat the revelations. Further traumas would follow in February, with the Allied fire-bombing of Dresden. The inferno was clearly visible from the windows of Hirchstein, so dazzling that night and day were equally bright. On Ash Wednesday, the capital of Saxony lay in ashes. The icy Elbe carried countless charred and mangled corpses past the royal family's horrified eyes. Lilian especially remembered seeing the bodies of two women, floating hand in hand, surely mother and daughter.

Meanwhile, at the beginning of February, in an ominous new development, the King had been threatened with separation from his entourage. Due to the advance of the Soviet army, he had been told, the royal family would be transported to a new place of detention in southern Germany. His suite would be moved to yet another location. Leopold immediately protested this scheme, refusing to be divided from any of his companions. To Ernst Kaltenbrunner, chief of the Gestapo, he sent the following telegram: "It has been communicated to me that an order of displacement could soon be given to me and that the persons who have voluntarily accompanied us in captivity would be directed to a different destination. I express the formal desire that these persons, for whose fate I am responsible, may continue to share my captivity and that they may not be suddenly isolated in this manner. In addition, there are, among these persons, three officers, for whom I demand a treatment compatible with their rank". Departure would be delayed until March, and the royal party would be allowed to travel together to their next prison, the villa of Strobl, Austria, opening a new chapter of their weary captivity.

(to be continued)

The Belgian Lion

2012-01-14T21:10:00.000-05:00

An allegorical depiction of the royal Belgian lion ravaging the imperial German eagle, featuring a poem dedicated to King Albert I at the head of his army. The poet calls upon Rome and Sparta to bow before Belgium's valor and to unite their laurels with hers in order to adorn the tombs of her fallen heroes.

Pillars of the Church

2012-01-07T11:44:00.001-05:00

An interesting portrayal of Albert and Elisabeth as church figures. I have also seen stained-glass windows with portraits of this couple.

Feast of the Three Kings

2012-01-06T15:06:00.003-05:00

Happy Epiphany to all my family and friends!

When Jesus therefore was born in Bethlehem of Juda, in the days of King Herod, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem. Saying, Where is he that is born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to adore him. And king Herod hearing this, was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And assembling together the chief priests and the scribes of the people, he inquired of them where Christ should be born. But they said to him: In Bethlehem of Juda. For so it is written by the prophet:

And thou Bethlehem the land of Juda art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come forth the captain that shall rule my people Israel. Then Herod, privately calling the wise men, learned diligently of them the time of the star which appeared to them. And sending them into Bethlehem, said: Go and diligently inquire after the child, and when you have found him, bring me word again, that I also may come to adore him. Who having heard the king, went their way; and behold the star which they had seen in the east, went before them, until it came and stood over where the child was. And seeing the star they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.

And entering the house, they found the child with Mary his mother, and falling down they adored him; and opening their treasures, they offered him gifts; gold, frankincense and myrrh. And having received an answer in sleep that they should not return to Herod, they went back another way into their country.

The Royal Family in Captivity: Part II

2012-01-06T01:55:00.000-05:00

The deportation of the Royal Family

(Continued from Part I)

While King Leopold III, brave but forlorn, suffered through his first miserable night at Hirschstein, his wife, Princess Lilian, struggled valiantly at Laeken to protect his family. On the morning of June 7, 1944, immediately following the King's departure, she had been told by Captain Büntinck, an aide of Colonel Kiewitz, that she, too, would be deported to Germany, along with her three step-children and her little son. This second sadistic order came at a particularly cruel moment. Alexandre was still only a toddler, Baudouin was recovering from scarlet fever and Albert suffering from mumps. Joséphine-Charlotte, for her part, was only sixteen. Outraged, Lilian vehemently protested and tried her utmost to frustrate the plan, mobilizing all her connections and managing to gain a reprieve of forty-eight hours. Meanwhile, her mother-in-law, Queen Elisabeth, transmitted a message to Büntinck to convey to Berlin by telephone. Her words were chosen carefully to exploit the official pretext for deporting the Royal Family, a supposed concern for their safety: "Before leaving, the King, my son, unable to do so himself as a result of his sudden departure, asked me to transmit to the government of the Reich the following message: 'It would politically intolerable and have the worst possible effect on the Belgian people to cause the King to depart with all his family and to place them in safety, while the people are suffering and the other prisoners of war are separated from their families.' He did this in complete accord with the Princess, my daughter-in-law. A decision is urgently required."

Not surprisingly, the Queen's effort failed. During the night of June 8-9, with the aid of a chauffeur and two gardeners, the Princess set to work concealing the cars belonging to the Royal Court. She was determined to obstruct the journey as long as possible. By dawn, all but one of the vehicles had been hidden in one of the galleries of the castle. Finding the garages empty, the Gestapo were frustrated and furious, but eventually managed to gather enough cars to form a convoy. Meanwhile, Cardinal van Roey, the President and the General Procurator of the Court of Cassation had been summoned to Laeken to witness the violence done to the Royal Family and the official protest of the Princess. The King's consort gave Captain Büntinck the following message: "On June 7, 1944, learning that the order had been given for the transfer of his family to Germany, the King immediately demanded that they be allowed to continue to reside in Belgium. I share the King's views entirely, and I have advised you of it. On June 8, I associated myself with the demand made by the Queen of the German authorities to obtain the withdrawal of this decision. This morning, at three o'clock, you informed me that the order for departure was being upheld, and that the King's family had to leave the castle of Laeken at two o'clock in the afternoon. I protest the measure of which the princes and myself are the object; we will depart, therefore, only because we are constrained to do so." Prince Baudouin, the young heir to the throne, left a touching note for a friend: "I am writing you a short letter before leaving for captivity in Germany. It is terrible. But events require it. I thank you for your kind letter. See you soon, I hope."

That afternoon, the Royal Family would indeed begin their tedious and traumatic journey, but not before long discussions regarding the composition of the Princess' suite had further delayed departure. Two of the children's nannies, Mme. Schepers and Mlle. Henrard, offered to share their mistress' captivity, and were allowed to accompany her. The governor of the heir to the throne, the Vicomte du Parc, and one of the attachés of the King's cabinet, M. Weemaes, were also authorized to join the forlorn little party. (Initially, a physician, Dr. Rahier, was permitted to come, but was later ominously ordered to return to Belgium before reaching the Royal Family's place of detention). Towards evening, Princess Lilian and her fellow hostages finally had to bid a heartrending adieu to a tearful assembly of the rest of the royal staff. Following in the the footsteps of their husband, father and Sovereign, but cruelly kept in ignorance of his fate or their own destination, the anxious prisoners finally reached Hirschstein on June 11, towards nightfall. To their relief, they found the King alive. Lilian, however, was particularly exhausted after many frightening adventures. In her hotel room in Weimar, with Joséphine-Charlotte's help, for instance, she had been obliged to secretly burn her husband's "Political Testament", to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy. En route, she had also been forced to protest vehemently for hours to prevent the S.S. from separating Princes Baudouin and Albert from the rest of the family. Worse, however, was yet to come.

(to be continued)

Queen Elisabeth by Herman Richir

2012-01-05T17:19:00.000-05:00

Two colorful portraits of Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians by Herman Richir, dating from 1930. She was 54 years old at the time.

The Royal Family in Captivity

2012-01-05T14:00:00.001-05:00

King Leopold III after his liberation from German captivity in Strobl, Austria

One of the fullest and best documented accounts of the Belgian Royal Family's cruel captivity in Germany and Austria is provided by Jean Cleeremans in Léopold III, sa famille, et son peuple sous l'occupation and its sequel, Un royaume pour un amour: Léopold III, de l'exil à l'abdication. The ordeal began with the deportation of King Leopold III on June 7, 1944. With the Allied landings in Normandy, the liberation of the Low Countries drew near and the S.S. appear to have considered that it would be valuable to hold the Belgian monarch and his family hostage in an area more securely under German control. (As it happened, Leopold's absence from Belgium at the moment of liberation also proved all too convenient for his Belgian and Allied opponents, who had a free hand to conspire to prevent him from resuming his reign after the war). On the evening of June 6, while at table with his second wife, Princess Lilian, and his daughter, Princess Joséphine-Charlotte, the King received the alarming news from his sympathetic gaoler, Colonel Werner Kiewitz, that Himmler had suddenly ordered his transfer to Germany. As Kiewitz later described to the King's secretary, Count Robert Capelle, Leopold was outraged. Particularly angered by the prospect of being deported on the orders of the S.S., who had no authority over prisoners of war, he prepared a violent protest to submit to the military governor of Belgium, General Alexander von Falkenhausen, who was also sympathetic to his plight. The general later recalled his meeting with the distressed Sovereign at Laeken:

The King received me with great nervousness and his anger knew no bounds. He gave me a severe letter of protest to read. The terms were so energetic that I feared that false interpretations, arising from a translation, would lead to unfortunate consequences for His Majesty, who found himself in the position of a prisoner of war. I proposed that the King modify some expressions which appeared to me to be too violent, as I had already been reproached several times for transmitting violent protests from the King. His Majesty dismissed me and had me wait for three quarters of an hour, which I spent with Kiewitz in an antechamber. Then the King, in Kiewitz' presence, returned to me the letter of protest which I caused to be conveyed, through Kiewitz, to Hitler. The emotion and the anger of the King were great (Léopold III, sa famille, et son peuple sous l'occupation, pp. 269-270).

Nevertheless, after the war, Leopold's leftist political opponents, including Prime Minister Achille van Acker, would accuse him of secretly conniving at his own deportation, in order to increase his popularity by posing as a heroic victim. The grotesque charge persists to this day in the literature most bitterly hostile to the Belgian dynasty, such as Flemish nationalist Paul Beliën's prodigious work of propaganda, A Throne in Brussels: Britain, the Saxe-Coburgs and the Belgianisation of Europe. The attempt to blame the King for his own gruesome misfortune is reminiscent of similar spiteful attempts to accuse him of causing the death of his first wife, Queen Astrid, by driving with criminal negligence. It also recalls the malicious rumors blaming his father, King Albert I, for his own death by suggesting, for instance, that he had been murdered by an irate husband whose wife he had seduced. Imprisoned at Liège after the liberation of Belgium, Alexander von Falkenhausen was interrogated by a Belgian official who insisted that King Leopold had rejoiced at his deportation, even celebrating the news, in the general's company, with a bottle of champagne! The accusation was typical of the concerted effort at the time to portray Leopold as a spineless, faithless man of pleasure. Von Falkenhausen gave the lie to the claims with indignant disgust. Kiewitz, for his part, also indicated that nothing could be further from the truth; Himmler and his henchmen had planned "Operation Elbe", the deportation of Leopold III, without informing the King or even his gaoler until the last moment. On May 7, 1949, however, Le Peuple published an anonymous letter, supposedly sent to the Belgian government in London during the war. The letter claimed that the King had left Belgium of his own free will, and that a lady-in-waiting of his mother, Queen Elisabeth, had even admitted that the royal household had been preparing for the departure well in advance! Thus, by implication, even the fabled heroine of the trenches and the field hospitals of World War I, the widow of the Roi-Chevalier, was involved in a treacherous scheme to betray her country by collaborating with the enemy and misleading her people into believing that her son was a martyr of patriotism. Horrified, the Queen's ladies were obliged to issue a joint statement, categorically denying the charges and protesting the underhand methods used to discredit their King.

On the morning of June 7, 1944, Leopold bid a poignant farewell to his wife and daughter. (His sons, Princes Baudouin and Albert, were at the Royal Family's charming country retreat of Ciergnon at the time). As described in the recent documentary, Léopold III, mon père, the King, departing to an unknown fate, gave Princess Lilian his handsome, sombre photograph, tenderly inscribed, as if he never expected to see her again: "To my adored little Lil, from her Leo forever." As related in Un couple dans la tempête: le destin malheureux de Léopold III de Belgique et de la princesse Lilian, he also gave her a leather purse filled with gold coins. Meanwhile, he had composed a courageous message to the Belgian people: "My dear fellow-countrymen. The German authorities have decided upon my transfer outside Belgium. I have protested with the greatest energy. I would have wished to share, to the end, your trials and anxieties. My thoughts will not leave you. Be courageous, confident, united. God will continue to protect Belgium and will soon return to us peace, concord and liberty. I have faith in the destinies of the country. Leopold, June 7, 1944." Despite the fact that the Belgian government in London had maligned him during the war, he loyally agreed with his aide-de-camp, Raoul van Overstraeten, that his officers should obey the government's orders in his absence. The sad journey, in a heavily armed German convoy, then began.

Kiewitz, who was in charge of the first stretch of the journey, allowed the King to stop at Ciergnon to bid farewell to his sons. Upon his arrival, however, Leopold learned that the princes had already returned to Laeken and that the German authorities had ordered the deportation of his wife and children. Inhabitants of Ciergnon witnessed his great sorrow and distress. Desperately, he composed another protest: "On June 7, at 4 pm, in the course of my visit to Ciergnon, Colonel Kiewitz brought to my attention the fact that new measures, this time relative to the displacement of my family, have been ordered. Yet, it is as a prisoner of war that I am being transferred to Germany, and I desire no attenuation of the measure that has been imposed upon me. I demand that the members of my family be allowed to continue to reside in Belgium". It was all in vain, however. Before leaving, the King had cigarettes distributed to the gendarmes of Ciergnon. Deeply moved, at the moment of parting, they presented arms. Leopold would receive similar sympathy from fellow Belgian captives during his journey. In Échec au Roi: Léopold III, 1940-1951, Roger Keyes mentions a Belgian electrician, employed in a hotel in Luxembourg requisitioned by the Germans, who recognized his Sovereign. In an elevator, the man seized the opportunity to whisper in Leopold's ear that he himself had been deported and forced to work for the enemy. He also expressed touching concern for the King's plight, kindly taking his hand and assuring him that he would pray for his safe return to Belgium. In Leipzig, Belgian prisoners of war laboring on the road also recognized their King.

On the evening of June 9, 1944, the convoy finally reached the sinister, dilapidated fortress of Hirschstein, looming over the Elbe, atop a steep crag. Colonel Kiewitz was appalled by the state of the fortress, filled with bare rooms, dripping windows, moldy walls and collapsing ceilings. The insalubrious conditions, combined with poor nutrition, would seriously damage the health and endanger the lives of the King and his family. Ferociously guarded by the S.S. and the Gestapo, equipped with barbed-wire fences, police dogs and floodlights, the fortress had obviously already served as a prison, possibly for Russian captives. Here, the Belgian Sovereign would be held hostage for the next nine months. The S.S. Colonel Otto Lürker became his new gaoler. For his sympathetic treatment of his royal prisoner, Himmler severely punished Colonel Kiewitz by arresting him, degrading him to the rank of captain, and assigning him to a punitive regiment on the Russian front where he would lose his right arm. Meanwhile, Princess Lilian, Princess Joséphine-Charlotte, and Princes Baudouin, Albert and Alexandre were soon to join the King in his terrifying prison.

(to be continued)

Congratulations!

2012-01-03T19:59:00.000-05:00

Congratulations to H.I.R.H. Archduke Imre of Habsburg-Lorraine on his recent engagement to Miss Kathleen Walker, a prominent American pro-life activist and journalist. The Archduke's betrothal coincides with that of his brother, the Archduke Christoph, to Mademoiselle Adélaïde Drapé-Frisch. May God richly bless both couples in this Christmas season. Through their mother, Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg, daughter of Joséphine-Charlotte of Belgium, the young Archdukes descend from King Leopold III and Queen Astrid, King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth, King Leopold I and Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians. Here are some pictures of the Archdukes and their brides-to-be celebrating Christmas in Brussels with Queen Fabiola and other relatives.

"Life must go on, in spite of all..."

2012-01-02T01:59:00.000-05:00

A poignant story in Emile Cammaerts' biography of King Albert I seems appropriate to share at this time of year. A theme throughout the book is Albert's anxiety for the future, which often seemed menacing during his life. His efforts to restore his devastated country after World War I suffered from serious internal tensions between Catholics, Liberals and Socialists, Flemings and Walloons. Meanwhile, the clouds of a new, even more terrible world war were gathering on his borders. At the beginning of 1934, his concern surfaced in his last New Year's letter to his beloved sister Josephine: "Life must go on, in spite of all." Sadly, however, within weeks, Albert's own life would come to a tragic end. Nevertheless, his brave and hopeful greeting still seems comforting in an often frightening world.

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T10:51:00.000-05:00

Wishing a very happy new year to all my friends!

Vännen min

2011-12-28T00:48:00.000-05:00

In 1985, a Swedish historical novelist, Countess Anna Sparre, published her recollections of her friendship with Queen Astrid of the Belgians, niece of King Gustav V of Sweden. The book, Vännen min, has since been translated into French as La reine Astrid: mon amie à moi (1995) and as Astrid mon amie (2005). Under Anna's pen, Astrid's subtle personality comes to life. Tender, sensitive and loving, although not without her strict side, she was a loyal and devoted wife, mother and queen. Anna sensitively portrays Astrid's blossoming, through love, from a painfully shy, fearful, rather melancholic child into a radiant, dignified young woman, courageously assuming the role of royal consort under tragic circumstances. While carefully avoiding betraying confidences, Anna offers insight into her friend's spiritual depth and development, through her discussion of Astrid's conversion from Lutheranism to Catholicism. In a particularly haunting passage, Anna also mentions Astrid's mysterious premonitions of her death, shortly before her fatal car accident. However, she does not discuss the rumor that Astrid was expecting her fourth child at the time. Anna provides an affectionate portrayal of Astrid's beloved husband, King Leopold III, and father-in-law and dear friend, King Albert I. Throughout her life, the Countess remained close to Astrid's son, King Baudouin, who referred to Anna as an honorary aunt. By contrast, Anna found Astrid's mother-in-law, Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians, to be aloof and distant. This is surprising, since so many other personal accounts, such as the memoirs of Russian sculptress Catherine Barjansky, describe Elisabeth as natural, spontaneous, and extremely approachable. Perhaps Anna and Elisabeth simply had incompatible personalities? In any case, the rather derisive tone Anna adopts in Elisabeth's regard is one of the few aspects of the book I disliked. Otherwise, Vännen min is a noble, beautiful tribute to faithful friendship.

Le mythe d'Argenteuil: demeure d'un couple royal

2011-12-27T19:05:00.001-05:00

Here is a review in French of Michel Verwilghen's wonderful book Le mythe d'Argenteuil: demeure d'un couple royal (2006). The article includes elegant photographs of Princess Lilian, Princess Esmeralda and Argenteuil, the home of the second family of King Leopold III from 1961 to 2002. I highly recommend Verwilghen's work to anyone who reads French. It is a careful, erudite history of the estate of Argenteuil, yet beautifully written, with humanity, poetry, passion and wit. Thanks to the charming style, the account is easy and fun to read, despite all the intricate details of changes of reign, transfers of ownership, legal disputes and political controversies. Verwilghen takes to task a number of malicious myths about Leopold and Lilian, such as the endlessly repeated story that they stole all the furniture from Laeken while moving to Argenteuil. Verwilghen also offers many astute, and often amusing observations regarding the political biases in the Belgian press. There are wonderful photographs in the book, including a few rare, touching images of an aged Princess Lilian with her granddaughter, Alexandra. Verwilghen's fascinating, moving, nuanced description of Lilian is probably the finest in print. Without falling into hagiography, he magnificently illustrates her faith, hope and charity.

Christmas blessings...

2011-12-25T16:37:00.000-05:00

...To all who have visited The Cross of Laeken in 2011. May the Prince of Peace grant you true and lasting joy.

Mother of Kings

2011-12-24T11:42:00.000-05:00

A famous allegory of the young Countess Augusta Reuss-Ebersdorf (1757-1831), mother of King Leopold I, and grandmother of Queen Victoria, as Artemisia. The portrait was painted in 1775 by Johann Heinrich Tischbein the Elder. Augusta, who later married Duke Francis of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, and bore him ten children, was considered one of the most beautiful women of her time, and her good looks seem to have been inherited by her Belgian descendants. Determined and ambitious, through her children's strategic marriages, she overcame the ruinous debts of her husband's family to become the ancestress of many European royal lines.

Sisters

2011-12-23T11:54:00.000-05:00

The future Queen Astrid of the Belgians with her older sister, the future Crown Princess Märtha of Norway, mother of King Harald V. In her memoirs, Anna Sparre describes Märtha as being much more confident and outgoing than the young Astrid, and as the daughter most admired by their mother, Princess Ingeborg of Sweden. In fact, Anna believed that Ingeborg's constant praising of Märtha contributed to Astrid's insecurity and shyness.

"With my heartfelt hope that spring will bring quiet joy to you..."

2011-12-22T18:45:00.001-05:00

On the eve of the accession of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth to the Belgian throne, I was delighted to come across this beautiful letter from Einstein to Elisabeth, then mourning the loss of her husband and daughter-in-law. I was also pleased that Einstein mentions another good friend of the Queen, the Russian sculptress Catherine Barjansky, whose memoirs of the Belgian royal family I have often featured here.

Dear Queen,

Today, for the first time this year, the spring sunshine has made its appearance, and it aroused me from the dreamlike trance into which people like myself fall when immersed in scientific work. Thoughts rise up from an earlier and more colorful life, and with them comes remembrance of beautiful hours in Brussels.

Mrs. Barjansky wrote to me how gravely living in itself causes you suffering and how numbed you are by the indescribably painful blows that have befallen you.

And yet we should not grieve for those who have gone from us in the primes of their lives after happy and fruitful years of activity, and who have been privileged to accomplish in full measure their task in life.

Something there is that can refresh and revivify older people: joy in the activities of the younger generation—a joy, to be sure, that is clouded by dark forebodings in these unsettled times. And yet, as always, the springtime sun brings forth new life, and we may rejoice because of this new life and contribute to its unfolding; and Mozart remains as beautiful and tender as he always was and always will be. There is, after all, something eternal that lies beyond reach of the hand of fate and of all human delusions. And such eternals lie closer to an older person than to a younger one oscillating between fear and hope. For us, there remains the privilege of experiencing beauty and truth in their purest form.

Have you ever read the Maxims of La Rochefoucauld? They seem quite acerbic and gloomy, but by their objectivization of human and all-too-human nature they bring a strange feeling of liberation. In La Rochefoucauld we see a man who succeeded in liberating himself even though it had not been easy for him to be rid of the heavy burden of the passions that Nature had dealt him for his passage through life. It would be nicest to read him with people whose little boat had gone through many storms: for example, the good Barjanskys. I would gladly join in were it not forbidden by “the big water.”

I am privileged by fate to live here in Princeton as if on an island that in many respects resembles the charming palace garden in Laeken. Into this small university town, too, the chaotic voices of human strife barely penetrate. I am almost ashamed to be living in such peace while all the rest struggle and suffer. But after all, it is still the best to concern oneself with eternals, for from them alone flows that spirit that can restore peace and serenity to the world of humans.

With my heartfelt hope that spring will bring quiet joy to you also, and will stimulate you to activity, I send you my best wishes.

[March 30, 1936]

Portrait of Princess Juliane

2011-12-21T17:53:00.000-05:00

This is a painting by the great Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun of Princess Juliane of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld (1781-1860), an older sister of King Leopold I of the Belgians. The portrait was destroyed by bombs during the Second World War. As a young girl of fourteen, Juliane married Grand Duke Constantine of Russia, a brother of Tsars Alexander I and Nicholas I, converting to Orthodoxy and changing her name to Anna Feodorovna. The marriage was deeply unhappy, however, and soon fell apart. Anna subsequently had several lovers and illegitimate children.

The Testimony of Felix Kersten, masseur of Heinrich Himmler

2011-12-19T19:15:00.000-05:00

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.

Lady in Black

2011-12-18T01:22:00.000-05:00

Queen Louise-Marie, I suppose in mourning?

Albert and Elisabeth

2011-12-18T00:44:00.003-05:00

They shared a love of great passion and purity. Here, Elisabeth seems to gaze at her bridegroom in wonderment.

Küssnacht-am-Rigi

2011-12-18T00:34:00.000-05:00

I came across this painting of the beautiful place near Lake Lucerne where Queen Astrid perished.

Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right

2011-12-18T00:23:00.001-05:00

I recently read Emile Cammaerts' Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right (1935), a famous and beautiful biography of the brave, thoughtful, gracious and beloved third King of the Belgians. It is tinged with sadness by the terrible events of the First World War and by the violent, untimely death of the King in a mountaineering accident. Opening with his courageous decision to defend with arms Belgium's right and duty to be neutral, it tells the dramatic story of his life in a noble, rigorous and eloquent manner. His love for God, his fellow man, his family and the people of Belgium are all conveyed with poignant intensity. Rare and beautiful photographs and samples of the King's delicate, even handwriting, assist in bringing to life a rich and sensitive personality. Particularly moving are the pictures of the royal couple's pilgrimage to the Holy Land, including a beautiful scene of Albert and Elisabeth in the Garden of Olives. I was glad that Cammaerts emphasized the role of Catholicism in the lives of the King and Queen, as it tends to be overlooked today. It is generally known that Albert's mother, Princess Marie of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, was a fervent Catholic who gave her children a strict religious upbringing; it is less well known that her son continued his theological studies, on his own initiative, for several years after becoming heir to the throne. At his desk in Brussels, he kept a bronze cast of Cardinal Mercier's hand, holding a small crucifix, so that he could not raise his eyes from his work without seeing the image. A lady who hosted him during the war noticed that he kept a prayer-book on his night-stand and read a few pages every evening. The Imitation of Christ was always at his bedside. At the royal family's idyllic country retreat of Ciergnon, he used to go to Confession at the village church, humbly taking his place in line, and refusing to go before his turn. He was an ardent admirer of monastic and missionary discipline. Simple and conscientious in his daily religious practice, Albert was also capable of moments of mystical exaltation, as the author illustrates through the testimonies of his intimates. One morning, for example, during a Mass in the Belgian Congo, the King was deeply touched by the sight of a poor, ailing, miserable old negro, approaching Holy Communion alongside some white officers. It was one of the few times that Albert expressed strong emotion in public. On another occasion, when the King and Queen were shown, in Jerusalem, the site of Pilate's praetorium, they were so moved by the words of their learned guide, a Father of the École Biblique, that they both spontaneously knelt before the steps leading to the first station of the Via Dolorosa. The King of the Belgians, who would himself die tragically, only a year later, at the feet of a rustic crucifix in the Ardennes, contemplated the sacrifice of Christ where the King of Kings had suffered. Cammaerts notes that he was never able to discover an instance of Albert acting against his conscience. Although some of his decisions may have been mistaken, the author indicates, the King never appears to have adopted a course of action he did not sincerely consider just as well as prudent. He was a man of rare nobility and sweetness of soul.

Feast of the Immaculate Conception

2011-12-08T21:41:00.003-05:00

Little Sister

2011-12-01T23:55:00.000-05:00

A younger sister of Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians, Françoise d'Orléans, the daughter of Louis-Philippe and Marie-Amélie who died as a toddler. Her grieving mother consoled herself with the thought that her child was now a saint in heaven.

Mary-Lilian and Marie-Antoinette

2011-11-28T19:24:00.000-05:00

November, the month dedicated to the Holy Souls in Purgatory, is a time full of anniversaries for King Leopold III, Queen Astrid and Princess Lilian. All three began their momentous and often tragic lives in this dark, tempestuous month; Leopold on November 3, Astrid on November 17, and Lilian on November 28. Leopold and Astrid were also married in November! By rather a remarkable coincidence, Leopold was born the day after the birthday of his legendary forebear, Marie-Antoinette of Austria, who actually arrived on All Souls' Day itself, with all the churches of Vienna ominously draped in liturgical mourning. In fact, Leopold would sometimes have celebrated his birthday on All Souls' Day, too, since the feast is commemorated on November 3, if November 2 falls on a Sunday. The King was a descendant of Marie-Antoinette's favorite sister, Queen Maria Carolina of Naples. As it happened, Leopold and especially Lilian shared many qualities and experiences with the unfortunate Queen of France. Marie-Antoinette was a Habsburg archduchess, a daughter of the great Empress Maria Theresa, and Mary Lilian Baels was a Fleming, the product of a culture influenced by the Habsburgs, who ruled the Low Countries for centuries. Both Lilian and Marie-Antoinette were among the youngest children in large families, with forceful and capable mothers. Both girls were named after Our Lady, like many other Catholic princesses. Lilian and Marie-Antoinette also shared great beauty, charm, glamor and passion. Both were queens of fashion, with exquisite taste. Both were gracious hostesses, admired for creating magical environments, Marie-Antoinette at Trianon and Lilian at Argenteuil. Both were staunch, loyal and courageous women. Each was kind and charitable to the less fortunate, and known for her goodness within her inner circle. Both were loving wives and mothers. Both were sincere Catholics, fun-loving girls who seemed to grow in spiritual grandeur with time and suffering. Like Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, Leopold III and Lilian had their faults, but were cruelly maligned beyond all reality. Both Lilian and Marie-Antoinette faced hateful accusations of immorality and even incest. Like the Queen of France, the Queen of the Belgians in all but name bravely shared her husband's miseries. Lilian and Marie-Antoinette bore insult, imprisonment, deprivation, illness and danger of death with patience and dignity. Each strove to protect and comfort her king and his children in terrible circumstances. At the end of her life, each left touching last wishes expressing a gentle spirit of piety, humility and care for her family and faithful friends. While sparing Lilian a bloody martyrdom, and granting her many years and a peaceful passing in old age, Providence called both women to sacrifice.

Remembering Queen Elisabeth

2011-11-23T20:21:00.000-05:00

Today is the anniversary of her death. The widow of King Albert I succumbed to heart failure on November 23, 1965, after a very long and fruitful life. Overcoming crushing sorrow, she had survived her beloved husband by 31 years. May she rest in peace with her loved ones!

Voice of a King

2011-11-23T19:30:00.000-05:00

Here are two more recordings of the voice of Leopold III. Many thanks to Daniel Wybo for very kindly providing the following links:

~The swearing-in of Leopold III, as fourth King of the Belgians, on February 23, 1934

~On July 22, 1950, upon returning to Belgium after six years of exile, the King paid tribute to the heroism of the Belgian army in 1940

The Life of Queen Elisabeth

2011-11-18T01:12:00.000-05:00

A magnificent article.

Umberto and Maria José

2011-11-14T20:27:00.002-05:00

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 deep admiration, respect and affection for one another, but Umberto seems to have had trouble relating to his wife romantically. My impression is that he loved her, but was not in love with her. Umberto was always 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 rumors that Umberto was unfaithful, or even bisexual, but I am skeptical, to say the least, 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.

Works of Mercy

2011-11-14T20:25:00.001-05:00

Here is a description of Queen Elisabeth's charitable works during World War I:

It is difficult for anyone who had even the slightest experience of the field hospitals in the early days of the War to think or write calmly of the scenes they witnessed. Yet the Queen, who was not of robust physique and has that sympathetic temperament which makes it difficult to witness suffering, shrank from nothing. There was hardly a field hospital in the whole of Belgium that she did not visit at some time or other during the War.

She not only visited them, but took part in the actual nursing, often assisting in the dressings and in the work of the wards. Her Majesty did a great deal of her nursing under Doctor Depage, who had helped her in her training. Her previous experience, when assisting her father, Duke Charles Theodor, stood her in good stead. From her girlhood she had been used to sick beds and the consolation of suffering, so now she passed through ward after ward, bringing cheer and comfort in her train.

As the field hospitals travelled from place to place where they were most needed, the Queen did her utmost, and inspired others to do their utmost, too, to find suitable buildings in which they could carry on their magnificent work. She was intensely anxious that there should be full equipment for both the wounded and the staff. Often bedding was impossible to procure in sufficient quantity, and the wounded slept on straw. Her Majesty organized house-to-house collections for bedding, and, when the hospital was at Furnes, she gave twenty beds with spring mattresses for the use of the most serious cases.

Once when it had proved exceptionally difficult to get supplies, the Queen, attended by only one lady-in-waiting, went from house to house to see what could be obtained. The inhabitants of the place were for the most part more than willing to give, but the exigencies of war had left them with little. Few recognized the slender, gentle-voiced lady, who pleaded for the wounded soldiers, as their Queen. One good woman, who had given all but the bed on which she herself slept, was so overcome when she learned of her visitor's identity, that she hurried after her up the street, dragging her one mattress behind her as a final offering !

The Queen visited the hospital at Furnes twice regularly every week, and her visits were made without ceremony of any kind. She was never accompanied by more than one lady and, as a rule, by a Belgian medical officer. Her interest in the patients was felt and appreciated by everyone in the hospital.

Her thorough knowledge of surgery and medicine made her able to understand and appreciate the methods of nursing, and she never failed to pay due tribute to the staff for their efforts and for the extraordinary ingenuity with which they carried out serious operations with wholly inadequate materials.

In one hospital in four days there were admitted nearly four hundred patients, many of them with wounds necessitating grave operations, yet all the surgeons had to work with were two scalpels, a finger saw, and a few forceps !

From bed to bed the Queen would pass, a slight figure always plainly clad, usually in black, with a word for each of the men who had suffered in her country's cause. To each she spoke — to Belgians, French, and Germans (for there were usually a few Germans brought in with the rest), as Her Majesty made no distinction. They were suffering ; they had made the supreme sacrifice for what each believed to be the right, and in that place of pain at least there was no room for bitterness.

In the early days of the War, the Queen expressed a hope that Belgian women who could write both English and German would force themselves to forget their wrongs, and, for the sake of humanity, attend hospitals to write letters for prisoners other than Belgians. She realized how the anxiety of many a soldier's home would be alleviated if news, however slight, reached their homes. In the Queen's mind, as in the minds of her noble fellow- workers in the cause of the Red Cross, a wounded man had no nationality ; he suffered, and that was enough to evoke all that was humanly possible to ease his pain, both mental and physical.

Sometimes the King accompanied the Queen on her visits of mercy — always in his soldier's uniform without decorations of any kind. Together they would go round the hospitals, not so much as a King and Queen visiting their subjects, but as a kindly, simple man and woman, eager to do what they could for their fellow-creatures. Her Majesty was deeply interested in the visits which Madame Curie, the world-famed scientist, paid to the hospital at Furnes, where she stayed to work for a week, bringing her X-ray equipment for the use of the hospital. To aid Madame Curie in her much-valued labours on behalf of the wounded, there was fitted up for her a radiographic department with the aid of thick curtains and much brown paper. Here this remarkable woman worked with untiring zeal, taking radiographs of innumerable cases. Her daughter was assiduous in helping to develop the plates, and thus enabled Madame Curie to achieve work of the utmost value.

At a later stage in the War, the Queen took a deep interest in the marvels of plastic surgery, which enabled so many poor fellows to take up their work in the world after leaving the hospital. At one hospital some very severe facial cases were being treated, and the head surgeon, anxious to spare the Queen some terrible sights, begged her not to visit that particular ward. Her Majesty was not, however, to be deterred by the awful disfigurements. "They suffered for their country," she remarked, "and the Queen of that country should be the last to shrink from them." She spoke to each man in turn, pressing his hand in kindly sympathy before she turned away.

Passing month by month from hospital to hospital. Her Majesty constantly encountered those pitiful screams of homeless refugees who, with houses shelled and villages laid waste, straggled to the frontier. They would be met carrying their few poor possessions on their backs, or pushing wearily their hand-carts before them. Little children, hardly old enough to realize the horror which had befallen them, might be seen pushing perambulators filled to overflowing with what could be gathered up of the few remaining household possessions. Old men staggering under sack-loads of clothing and bedding and women burdened with the strangest assortment of miscellaneous goods, were fleeing from misery into darkness. The Queen saw them all, and with tears in her eyes would stop to speak to them as they passed. They could not tell her where they were going, for to half of them their destination was unknown. They only knew that their homes had been destroyed by the enemy and that now they must seek an unknown country and an unknown future.

These processions distressed the Queen even more than the scenes at the hospital, for there at least all that was possible was being done. For these poor refugees there was nothing Her Majesty could do except to give a child a caress or slip some silver coins into a woman's hand. Her Majesty sought no recognition and, in her war work, was content to be taken for an ordinary member of the Red Cross. But to the refugees she would sometimes reveal her identity if she thought that by so doing she could give some slight comfort or even shadow of encouragement to the poor creatures."I will think of you, I will pray for you daily," she would tell them, as they trudged on their desolate road.

Portrait of Princess Clémentine

2011-11-11T18:02:00.000-05:00

A painting of the youngest daughter of Leopold II, by Emile Wauters (1846-1933).

November 10, 1926: The Wedding of Leopold and Astrid

2011-11-10T16:49:00.001-05:00

...Je suis heureuse comme tout que tu reviens bientôt. Je t'embrasse de tout coeur. Embrasse notre petit chéri! Ta petite Loulou qui t'adore.

~Queen Astrid to King Leopold III, August 24, 1935, five days before her death, in a loving message quoted by Michel Verwilghen in Le mythe d'Argenteuil (2006)

Today is the anniversary of the religious wedding of the future King Leopold III and Queen Astrid of the Belgians. On November 4, 1926, Prince Leopold of Belgium, eldest son and heir of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth, had married Princess Astrid of Sweden, niece of King Gustav V, in a civil ceremony in Stockholm. On November 10, the religious wedding followed in Brussels. Both handsome, shy, sensitive, thoughtful, and noble people, Leopold and Astrid had fallen passionately in love. Since Astrid was still a Lutheran, however, a papal dispensation was required for the marriage, and the religious ceremony was limited to a blessing, rather than a Nuptial Mass. The princess also had to promise to raise her children in the Catholic Faith.

Both sons of Leopold and Astrid, Baudouin and Albert, would become Kings of the Belgians, while their daughter, Josephine-Charlotte, became Grand Duchess of Luxembourg. It is often claimed that Leopold and Astrid also had a fourth, unborn child, who perished together with his mother in the tragic car accident in Küssnacht-am-Rigi, Switzerland on August 29, 1935. Astrid's best friend, Anna Sparre, however, makes no mention of a pregnancy in her account of the queen's death. Apparently, the queen's namesake and biographer, Astrid Bammens, also discounts the rumor, and, certainly, there was never an official announcement of a pregnancy.

As I have discussed before, Astrid converted to Roman Catholicism four years after her marriage, in August, 1930, a month before the birth of her eldest son, Prince Baudouin. Astrid's childhood friend Anna Sparre relates in her memoir, Vännen min (1985), that the princess took her conversion deeply to heart, writing Anna a sober, sincere letter describing the ceremony and declaring that her decision to become a Catholic gave her peace of soul. Astrid also touchingly described her conversion, and her first Confession, in a letter to her mother, Princess Ingeborg of Sweden, noting her happiness at finally being able to go to Communion with Leopold. Upon becoming engaged to the handsome Belgian prince, a delighted Astrid had written to her youthful religious educator and mentor, the Lutheran Archbishop of Uppsala, Nathan Söderblom, that Leopold's soul was even more beautiful than his appearance. Now, it seems, Astrid was glad to be more fully spiritually united to Leopold, by embracing his religion. It is comforting to think that the young woman who would suffer such a terrible death, only five years later, had attained such purity, peace and joy in her short life.

Little Princess Marie-José

2011-11-07T20:52:00.000-05:00

Another precious royal baby.

King Leopold's Broadcast

2011-11-05T18:39:00.000-04:00

Here is a wonderful recording of a famous address, delivered to the USA on October 27, 1939, in the early stages of World War II, by King Leopold III of the Belgians. The speech outlines the reasons for Belgium's policy of independence and neutrality, adopted in 1937, and emphasizes Belgium's role in attempting to maintain the peace in Europe.

My warmest thanks to Mr. Daniel A. Wybo, researcher and spokesman of the National League of Veterans of His Majesty King Leopold III, who has very kindly made the recording available to the public.

Little Prince Leopold

2011-10-29T13:11:00.000-04:00

October 25, 2001: The Birth of Princess Élisabeth

2011-10-26T13:03:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the tenth birthday of Princess Élisabeth, the eldest daughter of Prince Philippe and Princess Mathilde, and Belgium's first queen regnant-to-be. The royal household issued some new photographs for the occasion.

Best wishes to the Princess and her family!

Carlota and Zita

2011-10-24T01:54:00.000-04:00

This is a good article as far as the lives of the holy Emperor Karl of Austria and his family are concerned, but I was rather hurt by the disparaging comparison of poor Carlota of Mexico with Empress Zita:

Carlota, born Princess Charlotte of Belgium, was nearly insane with ambition. Save for her insistence, poor Maximilian, a Romantic dreamer who wished nothing so much as to be able to dream forever, almost certainly would not have accepted the crown of Mexico when it was proffered. Carlota never had a child, or at least none by her husband. After Maximilian was shot the world saw little of her. Driven truly mad by the loss of the Mexican throne, she lived all the long decades of her remaining life in seclusion at one of her family’s chateaux in Belgium, still believing she was a reigning empress.

"A Passion for Self-Sacrifice"

2011-10-21T00:09:00.000-04:00

In his biography of Albert I, which I am finding to be quite a bittersweet read, Emile Cammaerts draws a comparison between the Belgian king and one of his relatives on his mother's side, the martyred hermit Meinrad of Einsiedeln.

Like most royal personages, he had many Christian names: Albert, Leopold, Clément, Marie, Meinrad. Now, St. Meinrad was supposed to be a member of the Hohenzollern family who, after founding the monastery of Einsiedeln in the ninth century, lived for a long time as a hermit in the company of two ravens and a squirrel. His namesake led a very different life, but remained nevertheless fond of solitude, an ardent admirer of monastic and missionary discipline, simple in his habits and frugal in his diet. His devotion to his people had developed into a passion for self-sacrifice. He shared the Saint's untiring patience and courage, with his delicate and almost feminine sympathy not for men only, but for beasts and even for trees (Emile Cammaerts, Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right, Macmillan Company, New York, 1935, p. 423).

Two Marriages

2011-10-16T23:05:00.000-04:00

A Day in the Life

2011-10-16T20:21:00.000-04:00

Here is a description of the Royal Family's austere life during the early years of the reign of Albert I, by M. Vital Plas, one of the tutors of the young Princes. In later years, the King and Queen only drank water in private and followed a vegetarian diet. The King also gave up smoking.

The King rose very early and walked in the park, after which he took a light breakfast between 7 and 8 A.M., and began to work. The Queen breakfasted somewhat later. Her children came to her about ten o'clock; they were in the habit of bringing her flowers, this at the King's suggestion...Luncheon was taken at twelve, en famille; some members of the royal household took part in it, and on occasions the King or the Queen invited a visitor who had been received in the morning...There were only two courses and dessert. The King always insisted on a separate course of vegetables which the children were obliged to eat, whether they liked it or not. "It is necessary for your health," he told them. They drank wine mixed with water, or beer, sometimes a glass of champagne, when there was a guest.

Coffee, smoking and talk followed, but the King never allowed the Queen to stay long, as she was ordered to rest for an hour. When she delayed he urged her to go, leading her by the shoulder to the door.

The King resumed work with his secretaries or one of the ministers, and gave audiences until dinner when he had no ceremony to attend. The Queen either received her friends or went to a concert, an art exhibition, a hospital, or visited the sick privately. When they lived at Laeken, which they much preferred to the Brussels palace, they returned as early as possible in the afternoon. The King used to take motor rides in the neighbourhood. Before or after dinner, he and the Queen would walk arm in arm in the park; they visited the children's gardens and the beehives which supplied the Palace with honey.

Dinner was served at seven-thirty; it was frugal and strictly intimate, neither strangers nor members of the household being invited. It was short and the children went to bed soon afterwards. When the parents had not to attend some theatre or concert, they spent the evening reading and retired early. Sometimes there was music. (Quoted by Emile Cammaerts in Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right, Macmillan Company, New York, 1935, pp. 402-403)

Faith

2011-10-15T21:02:00.000-04:00

Queen Elisabeth at prayer.

The Life of Albert I

2011-10-15T18:22:00.000-04:00

An excellent summary from The Mad Monarchist. I will be discussing Emile Cammaerts' biography of the King soon, so I am pleased to take this opportunity to review the facts of his life.

The future third King of the Belgians was born Prince Albert Leopold Clement Marie Meinrad on April 8, 1875 to Prince Philippe Count of Flanders and Princess Marie of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen. On the surface he would have seemed unlikely to ever become a monarch. He was the second son out of five siblings in his own family and his own father was the third son of the first Belgian king. However, after the death of the only son of King Leopold II and the death of his father and older brother Prince Baudouin, Prince Albert became heir to the Belgian throne. He was only 16 when his father became heir to the throne but even by that time he had the makings of a great monarch. His parents ensured that he was well grounded and sincerely religious. He was serious and studied hard and from the first moment he knew he would become king someday he set to work preparing himself for that task. The reputation of the Belgian monarchy had suffered during the reign of Leopold II and Albert was determined, even as a young man, to set a new tone.

Part of this new tone was to be the domestic life of the Royal Family. In 1900 he married Duchess Elisabeth of Bavaria in Munich, beginning what would be a very long, happy and fruitful marriage marked by mutual respect and devotion. The succession was also quickly secured as the following year Princess Elisabeth gave birth to the future King Leopold III. In 1903 another son was born, Prince Charles Theodore, giving Belgium an “heir and a spare”. In 1906 the family was completed with the birth of Princess Maria Jose, the future Queen of Italy. Albert was a very devoted husband and father who set a fine example in his private life. This, in itself, was quite significant given the unhappy marriage of King Leopold II and Queen Marie Henriette of Austria. Together, Albert and Elisabeth would project a united front of domestic fidelity.

Prince Albert also made himself familiar with every section of Belgian society. He studied the problems of the working class and came up with recommendations to improve their working and living conditions. A firm believer in the principle of “go thyself”, in 1909 he traveled to the recently annexed Belgian Congo to see the situation for himself and what conditions were like for the natives. He had, perhaps, learned from the experience of his uncle, King Leopold II, that it was not safe to simply take the word of officials as to what life was like in the central African colony. He took seriously his duties to all of his future subjects, Belgians and Africans alike, and when he returned home presented a detailed report and recommendations on improving the lives of the natives and for further modernization in the Congo. His role in the rapid improvement in conditions in the Congo is not often stated but it was significant.

Later that year, in December 1909, King Leopold II passed away and his nephew was formally sworn in as King Albert I of the Belgians. Whereas Leopold II wanted his reign to be known for grandeur and greatness, King Albert I, at least in his own life, was best known for his simplicity and moderation. He was a hard working monarch not at all enthralled by pomp and ceremony. He was also a very humble man, reluctant to accept any praise or adulation no matter how well deserved. He wanted peace, prosperity and contentment in Belgium but he was not blind to the growing threat across the border in Germany. He tried to strengthen the Belgian army and give them more up-to-date weapons but was hampered by an uncooperative government and the fact that Germany itself was the source of most of their rifles and artillery. In 1912 his generals estimated that it would not be until 1918 that the military was fully prepared to successfully defend the national territory. As we know, Belgium was not to have that long.

In August of 1914 the ultimatum arrived from Germany stating that Belgian neutrality would be violated and that if resistance was met Germany would consider Belgium an enemy. No effective resistance was expected. King Albert I, however, boldly rejected the ultimatum, famously stating that “Belgium is a country, not a road”. A very upright and moral man, he had no other option. Belgium was bound to neutrality by treaty and if the Belgians had simply stood aside and allowed the Germans to pass through in order to attack France this would be a violation of that neutrality, not only by Germany but by Belgium as well as they would be passively cooperating in the invasion of France. Despite the impossible odds arrayed against them, King Albert I took command of the Belgian army and led a heroic defense of his country. The tall, serene soldier-king of “brave little Belgium” was tailor-made for the newspapers of the day and he quickly became a hero amongst the Allied nations for the stubborn defense of his country. The German timetable was upset and French and British forces had just enough time to rally in front of Paris to defeat the invasion force at the First Battle of the Marne.

King Albert, after being forced to withdraw from Antwerp, pulled back behind the Yser River and established a defensive line on the last corner of his native soil from which the Germans could never dislodge them. It was important to him to remain at the front, with his soldiers, on Belgian soil. He oversaw the rebuilding of the army which had been shattered in the initial invasion and in time they were better armed and equipped than they were at the outset. This was an extraordinary feat considering that almost the entire country was under German occupation and the sector the Belgians had to defend, the Flanders coast, was easily the most miserable on the western front, low, open and constantly waterlogged. As commander-in-chief he also had to oversee the operations of the Belgian colonial forces in Africa, where they met much success. It was a very trying time for the King, but his deep and sincere faith helped sustain him. A devout Catholic, King Albert impressed the importance of religion on his children and when Pope Benedict XV called for a peaceful end to the war he was the only Allied head-of-state to take the issue seriously. Unfortunately, his efforts to arrange peace with the Emperor Charles of Austria-Hungary were thwarted by the other Allied powers.

In 1918, since Belgian troops could only legally be commanded by their King, Albert was made commander of “Army Group Flanders” made up of the Belgian army and elements of the British II Army and French VI Army and he led these forces in a series of successful advances as part of the overall “Grand Offensive” or “Hundred Days Offensive” which brought the war to a successful conclusion by the Allies. There were wild celebrations in Brussels as the King rode in at the head of his army to liberate the country. However, there was no rest for the King as he immediately set to work rebuilding the devastated Belgian economy. He implemented government reforms such as universal suffrage and at the peace conference in Paris obtained reparations payments for Belgium but also showed his magnanimity by opposing overly-harsh treatment of the Germans. He could see, if none of his fellow Allied heads of state could, that the downfall of the German princes and the dissolution of the Hapsburg empire would dangerously destabilize all of central Europe. Alas, his warnings in this area went unheeded.

The interwar years were a period of recovery and King Albert I was kept very busy. He became the first reigning European monarch to visit the United States, paying tribute to the men of the AEF who helped clinch the Allied victory in the war, he opened the first national park in Africa in the Belgian Congo and he showed solidarity with the Dutch-speaking community of Flanders whose region had suffered the most in the war. He also saw his son Leopold married to Princess Astrid of Sweden and his daughter married to Crown Prince Umberto of Italy. When he did have some time for himself he loved mountain climbing. He was climbing in the Ardennes, near Namur, when, on February 17, 1934 he died in a tragic accident. His sudden death was a cause of great mourning and it is probably accurate to say that he was the most beloved King the Belgians ever had up to that time. He was upright, hard working, devoted to his God, his family and his country, courageous in the face of disaster and humble in the face of praise and adulation. He was a great man and a great king.

A Tribute to Leopold III

2011-10-15T00:12:00.000-04:00

Beautifully made, with some wonderful live footage, very stirring.

October 11, 1927: The Birth of Princess Josephine-Charlotte

2011-10-11T14:28:00.002-04:00

I had never noticed before that the first child of King Leopold III and Queen Astrid , the older sister of Kings Baudouin and Albert II, and the future Grand Duchess of Luxembourg, came into the world just a day after her uncle, Prince Charles of Belgium, celebrated his birthday.

October 10, 1903: The Birth of Prince Charles

2011-10-10T18:31:00.000-04:00

Today is the birthday of Prince Charles Theodore Henri Antoine Meinrad, the second son of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth, and the younger brother of King Leopold III, in whose stead he reigned from 1944-1950. The spare heir was named after his philanthropic maternal grandfather, Duke Karl-Theodor in Bavaria. Unfortunately, however, as I have mentioned before, I find Charles of Belgium to have been a far less admirable character. Nonetheless, the birth of the future Regent deserves to be commemorated.

Lilian's Deer

2011-10-09T15:51:00.001-04:00

Like her husband, King Leopold III, Princess Lilian of Belgium loved nature. For years, she faithfully tended a large herd of deer in the magnificent park at Argenteuil. (Two finely carved marble stags with bronze antlers crowned with gilded stars, designed at Lilian's request and mounted on plinths, also adorned the esplanade behind the chateau). Visiting the park and admiring the herd became a hospitable ritual for the Princess' guests, as described poetically by journalists Marcel Jullian and Claude Désiré in Un couple dans la tempête (2004). Even in her old age, the frail but intrepid Lilian continued to care personally for the herd, feeding the animals as part of her afternoon routine.

On October 22, 1997, as related by Michel Verwilghen in Le mythe d'Argenteuil (2006), her temerity in this regard led to a serious accident. As she was emptying a bucket of grain onto the soil, an elderly stag, one of her favorites, whom she called "my friend", hurtled the Princess into the air with his antlers. Miraculously, she managed to avoid being stabbed, but fell to the ground, badly bruised and unconscious. After some time, she revived, but found herself unable to rise, her hips and shoulders in sharp pain. No help was at hand, since Lilian had left the chateau alone. Weakly, between fainting spells, she called for assistance, but the staff of Argenteuil, hundreds of meters away, could not hear her.

Towards evening, however, two worried gendarmes, Henri Dutrieux and Alain Pierlot, began a search for their missing mistress. Around the corner from her car, amidst a few deer ambling peacefully through the grass, they found the Princess, immobilized on the ground, where she had been suffering for over an hour. Still lucid, however, Lilian herself gave instructions as to her care. A gendarme returned to the chateau to sound the alert and to find a stretcher, where the Princess was cautiously placed. Transported by ambulance to the Cliniques Universitaires Saint-Luc, she was diagnosed with a fractured hip and right shoulder and hospitalized for over a month, while her loyal housekeeper, Madame Jeannine, remained comfortingly at her side. After returning home, Lilian had to spend a few more weeks confined to her room.

Barely recovered, however, the Princess fearlessly resumed her evening ritual of feeding the deer, even offering them apples by hand. Unable to dissuade her from going out alone, her anxious entourage gave her a portable telephone, but she never used it. Meanwhile, she continued to suffer from the scars of the accident. Despite physical therapy, her right arm and hand remained stiff and painful. Writing even a few words became difficult. Relief finally came, in a mysterious manner, after an injection in the biceps to prepare for cataract surgery. Always curious about medicine, the Princess asked various specialists why this apparently unrelated treatment might have soothed her arm, but nobody had a rational explanation for the pleasant surprise.

Smiling Astrid

2011-10-07T19:50:00.000-04:00

A Valiant Woman

2011-10-07T19:00:00.003-04:00

Here is my article on Queen Elisabeth at Lost in the Myths of History. In addition, here is a vignette from M. Poincaré after a visit to La Panne in November 1914, following the Battle of the Yser, during the Great War:

"I enter a bright drawing-room very simply furnished. The Queen, dressed all in white, receives me most graciously. Delicate and frail, it seems as if she should have been broken by the storm; but she has an indomitable soul; she has given herself wholly to her husband, her children and Belgium. She only lives for her family and her adopted country. She talks to me of the war with unflinching resolution. The young Princes and the little Princess are in England. She telegraphs to them every day, using a cable jealously guarded by our French soldiers, and she mentions this with gratitude. This royal misfortune so valiantly borne, in the bright surroundings of this seaside resort, seems at the same time imposing and pathetic."(Quoted by Emile Cammaerts in Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right, Macmillan Company, New York, 1935, p. 269)

Little Prince Albert

2011-10-06T15:48:00.001-04:00

Here are some recollections of the future Roi Chevalier, by a German governess, who knew him as a child from 1877 to 1882. After his death in a mountaineering accident in 1934, she published her recollections:

My thoughts sadly linger on the young boy who passed a happy youth in Brussels in his father's Palace. The family usually spent the summer at the Amerois, and the little Prince's greatest joy was to romp in the meadows and among the bushes. He sometimes built small waterfalls by piling up stones across the brooks. He was absorbed in his games. Among my memories I see his crude drawings: trees and flowers, but mostly engines and railways. I still hear him, standing on a train made of chairs, his hair waving in the wind, shouting 'Départ pour Charleroi!' blowing his whistle and urging little Princess Joséphine to take her seat.

A great refinement of feeling, simplicity, kindness and a strong sense of justice, which distinguished his parents, were already noticeable in the child. All those who knew him remarked on his frankness; nothing would have induced him to tell a lie- a good omen for the future. (Quoted by Emile Cammaerts in Albert of Belgium: Defender of Right, Macmillan Company, New York, 1935, p. 36)

These tender thoughts somehow seem especially poignant coming from a German, in the light of the fate of Belgium in the world wars.

Sisi and Valerie

2011-10-04T01:39:00.000-04:00

My post on Queen Elisabeth's aunt and cousin at Lost in the Myths of History.

Young Princess Elisabeth

2011-10-02T17:02:00.000-04:00

Today, the Feast of the Guardian Angels, is her wedding anniversary.

The Princess, slight and tender, looked less than her height by the side of her stalwart fiance, who smiled tenderly down at her as the cheers of the crowd rose again and again. One chronicler described the Princess as being "small for a Queen," but true queenliness is an affair of spirit rather than of the body. Time has shown that, in the most trying circumstances, Queen Elizabeth has exhibited a truly regal dignity and a bearing that proclaims her Royal by more than birth. With delicate but regular features, her soft colour heightened by the emotions of the occasion, her chestnut hair surrounded by a diamond diadem, she presented a radiant figure in her ermine mantle which she later removed to reveal her flowered silk robe. She made a lovely picture, which none who saw her that night will ever forget.

Lady with a Bouquet

2011-10-01T13:53:00.001-04:00

Splendor of the House of Orléans

2011-09-30T14:29:00.000-04:00

A few images of the in-laws of King Leopold I. Above, we see Ferdinand-Philippe, the eldest son and heir of King Louis-Philippe who died in a dreadful carriage accident. Below are Ferdinand-Philippe's younger brother, Louis, Duc de Nemours, and his wife, Victoria of Saxe-Coburg-Koháry.

Two Victorias: the iconic British monarch (right) with her cousin, the wife of the Duc de Nemours.

Princess Clémentine, the youngest sister of Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians. Apparently, while still a child, Clémentine's grace and dignity aroused the admiration of King Charles X of France, whose throne her father would later take. At a ball at the Palais Royal, the home of the Orléans family, the King is said to have remarked to Louis-Philippe, shortly before the July Revolution: "Were I thirty years younger, your daughter would be Queen of France."

The Faith of the Duc de Nemours

2011-09-29T20:57:00.000-04:00

Here is a description of the second eldest brother of Queen Louise-Marie, Prince Louis, Duc de Nemours, who was once considered a candidate for the Belgian throne, prior to the choice of Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. According to the oral tradition of the Orléans family, his mother prayed, during his childhood, that he would become "another St. Louis".

The Duc de Nemours was the one who responded most of all to his mother's religious teaching. After his death his biographer, the academician, René Bazin, said, speaking of his noble life: "To what did he owe his unflinching pursuit of the ideal, his firmness and dignity in all vicissitudes? To his birth a little, but chiefly to his faith. His royal blood gave him the natural instinct to serve his country; the Catholic religion prevented his being deceived as to the best means of serving her, or from shrinking from the severity and duration of the service demanded. The Duc de Nemours was a believer, and acted up to his belief. He loved the ancient liturgy, the tradition and ritual of his church. He spoke little of his profoundest feelings, but he lived them, and they consoled him in the hour of death." (C. C. Dyson, The Life of Marie-Amélie last queen of the French, 1782-1866, 1910, p. 167)

Comments

2011-09-29T11:03:00.000-04:00

I seem to be having trouble commenting on certain blogs which have comment boxes embedded below posts. Is anyone else experiencing similar problems?

Black and Gold

2011-09-27T23:57:00.001-04:00

In contrast to the charming Dalton miniature of Queen Louise-Marie, we have this rather grim portrait of her husband, King Leopold I. I like the contrast between the black and the gold. The portrait also aptly conveys Leopold's melancholy in later life, as described by Charlotte Brontë in her novel, Villette, inspired by her experiences in Belgium:

Well do I recall that King—a man of fifty, a little bowed, a little gray ; there was no face in all that assembly which resembled his. I had never read, never been told anything of his nature or his habits : and at first the strong hieroglyphics graven as with iron stylet on his brow, round his eyes, beside his mouth, puzzled and baffled instinct. Ere long, however, if I did not know, at least I felt, the meaning of those characters written without hand. There sat a silent sufferer—a nervous, melancholy man...

Some might say it was the foreign crown pressing the King's brows which bent them to that peculiar and painful fold; some might quote the effects of early bereavement. Something there might be of both these, but these as embittered by that darkest foe of humanity—constitutional melancholy.

Miniature of Queen Louise-Marie

2011-09-25T00:01:00.000-04:00

Commissioned by Queen Victoria in 1840, this miniature watercolor on ivory is the work of Magdalena Dalton, née Ross. After Louise-Marie's death in 1850, King Leopold I wrote to his niece in an effort to locate the Ross miniature of his wife "with red ribbands in her hair". Victoria responded that the original was with Louise-Marie's mother, the former Queen of the French, Marie-Amélie. Listing several other copies, Victoria offered to help Leopold obtain one if he so desired.

Victoria had worn a miniature of "Aunt Louise" in a bracelet even before meeting her for the first time in 1835. As I have mentioned before, the two queens were close. In her journal, Victoria described Louise-Marie as follows : "so kind & good; the more one sees her, the more one must love her; she is so thoroughly unselfish," adding that the Belgian queen was "the dearest friend, after my beloved Albert, I have." High praise, surely!

September 25, 1983: The Death of Leopold III

2011-09-25T00:00:00.001-04:00

On September 25, 1983, Leopold III, King of the Belgians from 1934 to 1951, died suddenly, at the age of 81, after a heart operation at the Cliniques Universitaires Saint-Luc, in Woluwé-Saint-Lambert. His loss was a great grief to his family, particularly to his loyal wife, Princess Lilian, and to his beloved youngest daughter and confidante, Princess Esmeralda, who was only 26 at the time. Although his old enemies, the socialists, boycotted the ceremonies held in his honor, his death was also a deep sorrow to many of his people, especially his veterans, who had fought and suffered with him in World War II.

By a sad coincidence, the King passed away only three months after his younger brother, Prince Charles, Regent of Belgium from 1944 to 1950, with whom he had never truly been reconciled since the tragic divisions of the Royal Question. Despite their long estrangement, Charles' death had deeply affected Leopold, as noted by Princess Esmeralda in a recent television documentary. For the first time since his abdication, he had returned to the Royal Palace, the scene of so many of the most painful memories of his troubled reign, to pay his last respects to Charles privately, at his lying-in-state. (Neither Leopold nor Lilian would attend Charles' state funeral; Alexandre and Esmeralda represented their father on this occasion). An aide-de-camp, Colonel Guy Weber, saw the King praying before his brother's bier, pale, deeply moved, his hands trembling. Leopold returned to Argenteuil sad and tired. The death of a younger family member also seems to have reminded him all the more keenly of his own mortality. Always an avid photographer, he took a picture of Alexandre and Esmeralda in mourning, explaining he wanted to be able to imagine how they would appear the day of his own funeral...

Only a few months later, Leopold would follow his brother into eternity. His widow, however, would survive him for nearly two decades, piously cultivating his memory at Argenteuil. Her passing, on June 7, 2002, exactly one year after publishing her husband's account of the crises of his reign, Pour l'Histoire, would signify the end of an era; in a sense, the closing of the chapter of the Royal Question.

Elisabeth and Astrid

2011-09-24T22:36:00.000-04:00

These are two of my favorite photographs of two of my favorite queens of all time, Elisabeth and Astrid of Belgium, who were mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. They had much in common. Both were devoted wives to their kings. Each had three children, two sons and a daughter. Each was charitable and beloved by the people. It is ironic, though, that Astrid became so much more popular than Elisabeth, since Elisabeth did much more for the country than Astrid was able to do in her short time as crown princess and queen.

Remembering the Saxe-Coburgs

2011-09-23T21:40:00.000-04:00

Not to be morbid, but here are a few of my favorite tributes, from Find a Grave.

~Au courage incarné par le grand Roi que fut Albert I.

~A Léopold III, Roi incompris mais courageux. Reposez en paix.

~A Elisabeth, héroïque Reine des Belges pendant la I°Guerre Mondiale. Que Dieu lui accorde le repos éternel tant mérité.

~Au Roi Baudouin I, grand Roi et grand homme, personne généreuse possédant de rares qualités. Que son âme repose en paix pour l'éternité.

~A l'Impératrice Charlotte, Votre vie n'a été que souffrance puissiez Vous trouvez enfin le repos éternel dans la Paix du Christ.

Madame Adélaïde, aunt of Queen Louise-Marie

2011-09-17T17:40:00.000-04:00

Here is a sympathetic description of the controversial character of Adélaïde d'Orléans, the sister of Louis-Philippe and aunt of Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians.

Educated in liberal ideas by Mme. de Genlis, Adélaïde d'Orléans had made them her own. Long years of exile in a convent in Bremgarten, and afterwards with her aunt Mme. de Conti in Bavaria and Hungary, had separated her from family life. She knew little of her mother, and was subsequently altogether estranged from her, on account of the latter's subjugation by her chancellor, M. de Folmont. After their return to France, she concentrated all her affection on her brother and his family.

Her niece, the Queen of the Belgians, in a letter to Queen Victoria, says: "My good, excellent, beloved aunt lived only for her brother. Her devotion was absolute, and utterly unselfish. A heart so true, so noble, so loving is seldom found. She was a second mother to us, indeed few mothers do for their children all she did for us or love them better, and we in return loved and looked up to her".

Mme. de Boigne says: "In Madame Adélaïde I always admired her extreme goodness of heart and great intellectual powers. Her good qualities were her own, her defects due to circumstances in which she was placed in youth".

She was frank and sincere, and with her the inside was worth more than the outside.

Exclusive in her affections, she was a firm friend but a bitter enemy.

Her charities, however, left out no one.

She gave away one-sixth of her income in pensions to poor artists and men of letters, to the widows and orphans of combatants in the July Revolution, and in subscriptions to schools and hospitals, for the families of shipwrecked mariners, or artisans out of work, to cholera patients; pensions also to faithful servants of the House of Orléans, and rendered assistance even to poor Jews.

Her wealth and liberality gave her much influence, and she lived only for the aggrandisement of her brother and his family.

Her father, Philippe Egalité had been kindness itself to her. She was too young to judge the facts and would not acknowledge that his path had been one of crime. In her days of exile and among the émigrés who formed her aunt, Mme. de Conti's court, she found herself everywhere looked upon coldly on account of the name she bore, so she was driven in upon herself and raised a rampart of reserve in self-defence. Her mother's household being unendurable, she left it and joined her brother, and having no one else upon whom to lavish her capacity for affection, she gave her heart wholly to him.

He returned her affection, fell much under her influence, consulted her on all points, and having great respect for her powers of mind, deferred to her opinions.

Their father's life and death were a bond of intimacy between them.

Though both were generally the easiest of companions, upon this point they were irritable, even to rancour. After the Restoration neither of them was ever at ease with Louis XVIII, and least of all with the Duchesse d'Angoulême, daughter of Louis XVI, for whose death their father had voted.

Madame Adélaïde indeed frankly detested the royal family. She may have remembered that in her youth she had been taught to look on the Duc d'Angoulême as her future husband, but the match fell through upon the determined opposition of Marie Antoinette. Again in later life there had been an idea of marrying her to the Duc de Berry, which also collapsed.

Besides all this she was thoroughly at variance with the policy and opinions of the elder branch of the Bourbons; she despised their narrowness and bigotry, "they had learned nothing, and forgotten nothing". She herself was genuinely liberal and modern in her ideas, and she thought a constitutional Monarchy and representative Government was really what was needed for the welfare of France, and she loved her country only less than her brother. For him she was always ambitious. If he was not of the Orléanist faction, Mdme. Adélaïde certainly was; in and out of season she never lost sight of the ruling desire of her life, i.e. to see her brother on the throne of France. Her wealth gave her great influence. She spent it generously, patronised artists and literary men, and employed much labour on her estates, especially at Randan, which was her favourite residence; a whole countryside benefited by her benevolence and adored her, calling her "the good Mademoiselle"... (C. C. Dyson, The life of Marie-Amélie last queen of the French, 1782-1866, 1910, pp. 183-186)

Adélaïde as a young girl, during a harp lesson with Madame de Genlis

Princess Charlotte's Wedding Dress

2011-09-14T23:51:00.000-04:00

The bridal gown of the first wife of the future King Leopold I of the Belgians.

A Royal Visit

2011-09-11T17:11:00.000-04:00

A serene and gracious Princess Mathilde at a therapeutic educational center for neurologically handicapped youth, in Etterbeek.

Marie-José and Mussolini: Lovers?

2011-09-08T15:18:00.001-04:00

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, future Pope Paul VI.

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.

The Youth of Queen Astrid

2011-09-03T00:17:00.000-04:00

Here is a contemporary account. It is somewhat idealized, but I like the focus on Astrid's joie de vivre.

From her earliest childhood the Princess showed a remarkably independent personality and considerable strength of character. Combined with this, she possesses fortunately a strong sense of humour, which the new King much appreciates. The Duchess carries this light-hearted humour into every department of her new life.

The physical training of the Duchess was hardy, for much of her recreation took the form of ski-ing trips, or skating on the numerous waterways of Stockholm. These pastimes she can now share with her young husband, for the Belgian Royal Family enjoy all forms of winter sports. When they go to Switzerland, they take an enthusiastic part in every form of outdoor exercise.

Like the King, the Princess was brought up to take a deep and sympathetic interest in everything that concerned the life of her nation. During the later years of girlhood, one of her hobbies was to collect the folk-lore of her country, the myths and legends in which Sweden abounds.

Midsummer-day is kept as a festival in Sweden, and it is the pretty custom on that day to festoon the doorways of every house with the branches of the silver birch, for which the country is famed. One Midsummer-day the Princess chanced to be walking down a village street, when she came upon a house undecorated — a house in whose doorway there stood an old peasant woman gazing sadly at the birch branches at her feet.

Princess Astrid stopped and spoke. "Aren't you going to put up your branches ? " she inquired kindly.

The old woman, ignorant of the identity of the smiling girl before her, shook her head. "Alas, my rheumatism will not let me," she said, "and there is no one to do it for me."

"Oh, we must remedy that," came the instant reply. "Now, if I may go into your kitchen and fetch a chair, I'll have them up in no time."

The doorway was duly decorated, but, when the old lady learned who had done it, the branches were left there as a permanent souvenir of "when our Princess decorated my house with her own hands."

The home life of the Duke of Brabant's bride was very simple. Princess Astrid and her sister. Princess Marthe, frequently wore national costume, which proved an extremely effective setting for their good looks. There is a quaint tradition, common in many homes in Sweden, which in the Royal Household was never overlooked. At the conclusion of the family meal, the Royal children, when allowed to leave the table, would go first to their mother and then to their father and, kissing them on the forehead, would thank them for the bountiful meal provided.

Princess Astrid's education was not confined wholly to school-room studies. From her childhood the Princess had shown a fondness for culinary experiments. So, believing that every woman should know something of what goes on in her own kitchen, her mother encouraged her in her taste for cooking; and often the Princess would cook simple dishes for the family dinner-table.

When Princess Astrid became engaged, she took an extensive course in housecraft and mothercraft, with the result that to-day she is, if required, as competent to run her own house as any woman in Belgium. Though she takes no active part in the work of her home, her practical knowledge has made its supervision easy.

Queen Astrid Cross Stitch

2011-08-31T11:32:00.001-04:00

Perhaps not the best likeness of the Queen, but a bright and cheery design.

August 29, 1935: The Death of Queen Astrid

2011-08-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

August 29, the feast of the martyrdom of St. John the Baptist, is the anniversary of the tragic death of Belgium's most beloved queen, the radiant Astrid of Sweden, wife of Leopold III and mother of Baudouin I and Albert II. Here is the most moving account of the tragedy I have ever seen:

In August, 1935, the Royal couple were spending a few care-free days at their villa - Hazlihorn - at Horw, on the left bank of the lake at Lucerne. On the 29th - a wonderful day of blazing sunshine - they decided to motor to a spot where they could enjoy a little climbing. Neither had been driven by fear or memories to desert a sport that had already cost Belgium a king. They, too, loved the hills and rocks and mountains.

The Royal party left the villa in two cars at about 9.30. King Leopold was driving his own powerful two-seater, with the Queen at his side, and the chauffeur in the dicky-seat at the back. The second car, following at a discreet distance, contained four members of the Royal household. They crossed the town of Lucerne and took the road leading to Kussnacht and the Lake of Zub. It was a fine, broad, modern, gently-curving road, bordered by rich orchard lands reaching down to the lake. The King, a competent driver, was doing little more than 30 miles an hour, a reasonable speed upon a thoroughfare so smooth and splendid. The road was clear. The last thing in the world one would have suspected was danger. No doubt the King and Queen were admiring the beauty of the day and view, chatting animatedly.

Suddenly, at about ten o'clock, came disaster, swift and terrible. The right wheels of the Royal car mounted the concrete border of the footpath. Along this it ran for nearly twenty yards until the King, it is surmised, lost control. The car lurched to the right, slid down a steep embankment, and then, about twenty yards farther on, struck a tree. So violent was the impact that the Queen was thrown out and dashed against its trunk. Continuing its stampede, the car crashed into a second tree - this time hurtling out the King - and ended its wild run in the lake below. Fortunately at this point the lake was shallow, and the life of the chauffeur was spared.

The horror-stricken occupants of the second car, accompanied by a group of peasants, rushed to the rescue of the Royal victims. Astrid they found lying where she had fallen. She was still breathing, but her skull was fractured, and she was beyond all human aid. Leopold, dazed and injured, had reeled to his feet, standing as though in a dream. Let the words of an eye-witness tell of those poignant moments: "The King appeared dazed, unaware of what had happened. Then he saw the dying queen lying a crumpled heap on the grass nearly ten yards away. He stumbled towards her, wiping the blood from his face as he did so, and, sinking to his knees, gathered her in his arms and kissed her again and again. He spoke her name, but she could not answer. And in his arms she died."

Belgium heard the news about midday. The heart of the nation stood still. Few could believe that such a calamity had overtaken the country so soon after the disaster to King Albert, but the message of the loud speakers, the headlines of the newspapers and the tolling of the bells combined to prove to the people of Belgium that it was all too bitterly true. They wept openly in the streets. And through tear-misted eyes they read the hasty proclamation of M. van Zeeland, their Prime Minister: "Still under the impression of the tragic death of King Albert, Belgium to-day mourns her Queen, whose youth, grace and kindliness have conquered the people. The country is overwhelmed. Sharing the terrible grief of the King, it remains faithfully at his side. It feels tenderly towards the young princes who are left motherless."

The cause of the calamity was problematical. When the fatal car was dragged from the lake experts discovered that its tyres were burst, but that there was no defect in steering gear or brakes. Some supposed that the accident was due to the bursting of a tyre when the car mounted the raised pavement and the King tried in vain to return to the road. Another theory was that the King and Queen were consulting a map, or were distracted by the beauty of the scenery...

In a little room in the Royal Palace she lay in State in a white coffin, a posy of sweet violets in her hands, a rosary on her breast. In the circle of candlelight her lovely, calm face - framed in silk bandages to hide her wound - looked almost ethereal. Everywhere in the palace, as the populace passed through to pay tribute, there was silence and the fragrance of flowers. In the early mornings, when the palace gates were closed against the crowds, King Leopold would come to her, a sad, lonely figure.

On Tuesday, September 3, 1935, they laid her to rest in the Royal crypt at Lacken, next to the tomb of King Albert, still freshly covered with the national flag. The procession through the streets was a heart-breaking one. Crowds who had waited all night in the gloaming of the black-draped street lamps could scarcely control their emotion. King Leopold walked bareheaded, his arm strapped to a broken rib, his face clouded with pain and grief, behind the coffin shrouded in an ermine-trimmed pall of the Belgian colours and purple. Behind him came the representatives of Royalty and the nations, including the present King George VI. Even on the last stage of the tragic journey, when all save he rode in carriages, King Leopold insisted upon tramping on foot the weary miles. Sometimes he staggered, and many believed that he would fall. But he marched on steadfastly behind his Queen, loyal, faithful and adoring to the end.

Portraits of the Nation

2011-08-28T15:44:00.004-04:00

An academic study by Alexis Schwarzenbach of imagery on Belgian postal stamps from 1914 to 1945.

Queen Astrid Through Her Father's Eyes

2011-08-27T08:28:00.003-04:00

In his memoirs, Dix-huit ans auprès du Roi Léopold, Count Robert Capelle, former secretary of King Leopold III of the Belgians, quotes a description of Queen Astrid by her father, Prince Carl of Sweden. It is a lovely, touching portrayal, and one which accords with every other description of Astrid I have seen.

Astrid was not granted a long life; she was too good for this base world. But all her life, as wife, mother, and queen, and especially as she was short-lived, like our Nordic summer, was a rare and brilliant proof of the truth of the words her father addressed to her, as a twenty-year-old bride. For, throughout her whole life, she was the same person, with a heart that was pure, devoted, and frank, as she was during her childhood and youth; and she was truly loved as no human being had ever been loved on this earth. She was granted every happiness, until the moment when her young heart broke and she departed into eternity...

In response to her own, ardent desire, Astrid pursued her studies alone, without companions. We suggested to her a lively, kind little girl who, as it seemed to us, would suit her, in the hope that this girl would help her to overcome her shyness and would strengthen her sense of her own worth; but she immediately begged to be alone, with her young teacher, whom she loved. Her natural shyness was the reason why she had difficulty, at first, in being at ease with other children and in being completely herself in their company. It was the intimate reason for her request, which we did not feel entitled to deny, although it was against our belief in the advantages of companionship in learning.

Our Astrid's modesty did not derive from self-satisfaction, and it was not based on any other fault of character. She had a heart of gold, everyone considered her a wonderful child. During her childhood, she wept easily, and, once she had begun to weep, the flood of tears would never end. But her tears were not the result of excessive sensitivity, but rather the expression of her despair in the face of her own shyness; when the reason was not the fact that her dear mother - Noni, as the children called her - had to leave for a trip, or that one of those she loved was ill, or that some other grief had pained her sensitive heart. But, at times, she could also overflow with joy. She was not at all a gloomy child, but simply reserved, and her disinterested and affectionate heart opened up more and more, as the years passed and she began to dominate herself. She loved everyone, in her discreet fashion, and everyone loved her...

If Astrid had been able to live and to celebrate her silver wedding, as her mother did, I am certain that she would have become, after 25 years, a wife as radiant as her mother had been in her time, and that Astrid's husband and their children would have had no fewer reasons than I and my children to thank and to bless her, and to render her the beautiful homage which I, one day, rendered her mother: "Sweden may be proud of her daughter!"

Count Bernadotte on Queen Astrid

2011-08-26T16:08:00.000-04:00

In the aftermath of World War II, the famous Swedish diplomat and relative of the Swedish royal family, Count Folke Bernadotte, spent time in Belgium. He later recalled:

What I remember most about this journey is the way in which the name of Queen Astrid is still so much alive among the Belgian people. As a Swede, this gave me a feeling of happiness and pride. I knew her very well as a little girl in Sweden. I remember her as a very shy and reserved young girl. It is quite amazing that from the moment she came to her new country, she could show such an unusual capacity for winning the hearts of the Belgian people through her charm and kindness. I, for my part, do not think it improbable that if she had lived, she could, through her winning personality, have prevented the Belgian royal problem from becoming so acute and from reaching such a precarious state as was the case. Queen Astrid was truly popular in the best sense of the word. This young woman's deeds are proof of what a person full of goodness and with a genuine desire to do her best can accomplish. It is also undoubtedly due to her that the Belgian people think so highly of Sweden today. The Swedish people have every reason to be very grateful to her for what she has done: her services benefited not only the Belgian people but also her own country.

~Instead of Arms (1949)

Portraits of Marie-Amélie

2011-08-25T12:23:00.004-04:00

At Lady Reading, there is a discussion, in Italian, of Marie-Amélie of Naples, Queen of the French, with rare miniatures, sculptures, drawings and paintings of her and her family on joyful and sorrowful occasions. Here are a few examples. Above is an image of a younger Marie-Amélie as Duchesse d'Orléans, with her husband, Louis-Philippe, and her two eldest children, Prince Ferdinand-Philippe, Duc de Chartres, and Princess Louise, the future first Queen of the Belgians.

A domestic scene of Marie-Amélie with her fine, growing family. As the image suggests, Louis-Philippe and Marie-Amélie took an attentive and affectionate interest in their children's education.

A delicate miniature of Marie-Amélie, apparently part of a family tree.

The lady at her desk. She worked hard at fulfilling the social and charitable obligations of her high station; she was also a great writer, leaving behind many letters and diaries shedding invaluable light on the personal, political and religious turmoil of her time.

A Loving Daughter

2011-08-25T00:16:00.001-04:00

Today is the feast of St. Louis of France; tomorrow will be the anniversary of the death of Louis-Philippe, King of the French. I find this quite a poignant image of an aged and ailing Louis-Philippe in exile, embracing his daughter, Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians, during her last visit to her father on June 18, 1850, prior to his death on August 26. Louise-Marie took her family's misfortunes deeply to heart and succumbed to tuberculosis on October 11, only six weeks after her father's passing.

The Queen's Recovery

2011-08-24T23:48:00.000-04:00

Here are some bittersweet reminiscences of Queen Elisabeth's recovery from depression after King Albert's death, from Catherine Barjansky, a Russian artist and a friend of the Belgian Royal Family.

For three years Queen Elizabeth, always so quick and active, had lived in a state of mental and physical paralysis. She could not fulfill her duties; in time she could not walk.

One day, in a desperate effort to arouse her, I asked, "Why don't you take up your sculpture again?" Music, I knew, was out of the question; it only lacerates unhappy nerves. But sculpture is a silent art, and the wet clay is like a compress on sick nerves.

"I will try it for fifteen minutes, just to please you," she said.

"Why don't you do your brother?" I suggested.

She agreed, and her brother came. To our surprise and delight she worked for hours that day, and began again the next. That was the beginning of her recovery; slowly she went from one activity to another.

She also modeled a bust of her gardener, Monsieur Parat. It was an excellent piece of work and was exhibited several times. She had it cast in bronze and planned to please Parat by putting it in the greenhouse that he loved as though it were his child. She promised him that it would be put there with great ceremony and a day was set in June, 1940. In May, however, Belgium was invaded, and the Queen mother left the palace of Laeken to work in a hospital at Ostend. Later, when she returned from the hospital and King Leopold came back as a prisoner of the Germans, they learned that Monsieur Parat had died.

After the tragedy of Queen Astrid's death, Queen Elizabeth once more took up the duties of her position, lavishing her affection on her grandchildren.

I was there when she was modeling the little Prince, Albert - a sculpture for which she later received a prize at the autumn salon in Paris.

"You know," he told me, "when I grow up, I am going to be very rich."

The use children make of words has always fascinated me, and I asked him, "What do you mean- you are going to be rich?"

"Oh," he said, "I am going to love lots of people." (Portraits with Backgrounds, 1947, by Catherine Barjansky, pp. 156-157)

Sissi

2011-08-19T15:38:00.000-04:00

She did not like her Belgian in-laws, but she was an important figure in their lives and an iconic personality in her own right.

The Royal Wedding Dress on Display

2011-08-18T14:19:00.000-04:00

Via The Royal Channel, here is a virtual exhibit, presented by Caroline de Guitaut, Curator of the Royal Collection, of the wedding gown and wedding cake of the new Duchess of Cambridge.

Charlene's Jewels

2011-08-16T18:07:00.000-04:00

Here is an article about the Lorenz Baumer 'Diamond Foam' tiara worn by the new Princess of Monaco at the evening events following her spectacular wedding. In addition, here is a short program on the Van Cleef & Arpels 'Ocean' diamond and sapphire necklace, another gift from Prince Albert to his bride.

Announcements

2011-08-15T11:09:00.001-04:00

Please visit my new v-log, Pro-Life Testimonials.

As I already mentioned, I will no longer be updating The Sword & the Sea. I am, however, leaving the site online.

Many thanks to all for reading!

A Royal Bride

2011-08-10T14:13:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the anniversary of the marriage of King Leopold I and Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians in 1832. Here is an image of the sprightly young French princess, matriarch-to-be of a new royal dynasty, in her wedding gown.

Princess Ingeborg's Sense of Fashion

2011-08-09T14:36:00.000-04:00

Queen Astrid of the Belgians was famous for her sense of fashion; perhaps she inherited some of her elegance from her mother, Princess Ingeborg of Sweden. Here are some images of Ingeborg on Grand Ladies, a site I discovered today through Tea at Trianon. Above is a cape, from around 1900, which belonged to the Princess, below are pictures of Ingeborg posing with her little daughter Astrid and her son Carl.

Mourning King Baudouin

2011-08-07T15:28:00.000-04:00

Here is a moving RTBF documentary on the death and funeral of King Baudouin I. At the sadly young age of 62, he succumbed to heart failure on July 31, 1993, while on vacation with Queen Fabiola at the Villa Astrida in Motril, Spain. His passing united his troubled and divided country in deep mourning.

~Part I
~Part II
~Part III
~Part IV
~Part V

The King's Speech

2011-08-04T13:18:00.001-04:00

Today is the anniversary of the German invasion of Belgium during World War I. Here is a description of King Albert's stirring speech to the Belgian Parliament on this grave occasion, taken from the diplomatic diaries of Hugh Gibson:

August 5.—Yesterday morning we got about early and made for the Chamber of Deputies to hear the King's speech. The Minister and I walked over together and met a few straggling colleagues heading in the same direction. Most of them had got there ahead of us, and the galleries were all jammed. The Rue Royale, from the Palace around the park to the Parliament building, was packed with people, held in check by the Garde Civique. There was a buzz as of a thousand bees, and every face was ablaze—the look of a people who have been trampled on for hundreds of years and have not learned to submit. The Garde Civique had two bands in front of the Senate, and they tried to play the " Brabanconne" in unison. Neither of them could play the air in tune, and they were about a bar apart all the time. They played it through and then began to play it over again without a pause between. They blew and pounded steadily for nearly half an hour, and the more they played the more enthusiastic the crowds became.

When I saw how crowded the galleries were I thought I would not push, so resigned myself to missing the speech and went out on to a balcony with Webber, of the British Legation, to see the arrival of the King and Queen. We had the balcony to ourselves, as everybody else was inside fighting for a place in the galleries to hear the speech.

When the King and Queen finally left the Palace we knew it from a roar of cheering that came surging across the Park. The little procession came along at a smart trot, and although it was hidden from us by the trees we could follow its progress by the steadily advancing roaring of the mob. When they turned from the Rue Royale into the Rue de la Loi, the crowd in front of the Parliament buildings took up the cheering in a way to make the windows rattle.

First came the staff of the King and members of his household. Then the Queen, accompanied by the Royal children, in an open daumont. The cheering for the Queen was full-throated and with no sign of doubt because of her Bavarian birth and upbringing— she is looked on as a Belgian Queen and nothing else.

After the Queen came a carriage or two with members of the Royal family and the Court. Finally the King on horseback. He was in the field uniform of a lieutenant-general, with no decorations and none of the ceremonial trappings usual on such occasions as a Speech from the Throne. He was followed by a few members of his staff who also looked as though they were meant more for business than for dress parade.

As the King drew rein and dismounted, the cheering burst forth with twice its former volume; and, in a frantic demonstration of loyalty, hats and sticks were thrown into the air. The two bands played on manfully, but we could hear only an occasional discord.

Just as the King started into the building an usher came out, touched me on the arm and said something, beckoning me to come inside. One of the galleries had been locked by mistake but had now been opened, and Webber and I were rewarded for our modesty by being given the whole thing to ourselves. In a few minutes the Bolivian Charge came in and joined us. Our seats were not ten feet from the throne, and we could not have been better placed.

The Queen came in quietly from one side and took a throne to the left of the tribune, after acknowledging a roaring welcome from the members of the two Houses. When the cheering had subsided, the King walked in alone from the right, bowed gravely to the assembly, and walked quickly to the dais above and behind the tribune. With a businesslike gesture he tossed his cap on to the ledge before him and threw his white cotton gloves into it—then drew out his speech and read it. At first his voice was not very steady, but he soon controlled it and read the speech to the end in a voice that was vibrating with emotion but without any oratory or heroics. He went straight to the vital need for union between all factions and all parties, between the French, Flemish, and Walloon races, between Catholics, Liberals, and Socialists in a determined resistance to the attack upon Belgian independence. The House could contain itself for only a few minutes at a time, and as every point was driven home they burst into frantic cheering. When the King, addressing himself directly to the members of Parliament, said, " Are you determined at any cost to maintain the sacred heritage of our ancestors?" the whole Chamber burst into a roar, and from the Socialists' side came cries of "At any cost, by death if need be."

It was simple and to the point—a manly speech. And as he delivered it he was a kingly figure, facing for the sake of honour what he knew to be the gravest danger that could ever come to his country and his people. When he had finished he bowed to the Queen, then to the Parliament, and then walked quickly out of the room, while the assembly roared again. The Senators and Deputies swarmed about the King on his way out, cheering and trying to shake him by the hand—and none were more at pains to voice their devotion than the Socialists.

After he had gone the Queen rose, bowed shyly to the assembly, and withdrew with the Royal children. She was given a rousing ovation, as everybody realised the difficulty of her position and was doubly anxious to show her all their confidence and affection. The whole occasion was moving, but when the little Queen acknowledged the ovation so shyly and so sadly and withdrew, the tears were pretty near the surface—my surface at any rate.

By a poignant coincidence, August 4, 1914 was also the eighth birthday of the little daughter of the King and Queen, Princess Marie-José.

Dolce Paola

2011-08-03T18:10:00.000-04:00

I did not know until recently that there is an Italian canzone dedicated to the present Queen of the Belgians.

A Queen Mourns a Queen

2011-08-03T15:20:00.000-04:00

At Lost in the Myths of History, Christina Croft shares a touching message of condolence, addressed by Queen Victoria to her uncle, King Leopold I of the Belgians, upon the death of his consort, Queen Louise-Marie.

How beautiful it must be to see that your whole country weeps and mourns with you. For the country and for your children you must try to bear up and feel that in doing so, you are doing all SHE wished. If only we could be of use to you! If I could do anything for poor, little Charlotte. whom our blessed Louise talked of so often to me.(Read full letter)

Husband and Wife

2011-08-02T00:03:00.000-04:00

An interesting postcard featuring the handsome profiles of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth.

Lost in the Myths of History

2011-07-29T21:39:00.000-04:00

Author Christina Croft has kindly invited me to be a contributor to her lovely new blog, Lost in the Myths of History. Do come and visit us!

A Tribute to Princess Lilian

2011-07-28T23:15:00.000-04:00

Beautiful work, not to be missed.

Interview with Princess Esmeralda

2011-07-25T15:56:00.002-04:00

At last, here is the full version of the interview with Princess Esmeralda, broadcast on C'est du Belge on February 25, 2011, prior to the screening of the RTBF documentary, Léopold III, mon père, narrated by the Princess. The clip also includes a virtual visit to one of the few monuments to the much-maligned fourth King of the Belgians, the memorial to the heroes of the Battle of the Lys (May 23-28, 1940), featuring an equestrian statue of Leopold III, in Kortrijk.

As always, I was impressed by Princess Esmeralda's gentle, irenic spirit. She emphasizes that she is glad to have been born during the most serene period of her father's life, after his abdication, when he finally had the time to concentrate on his family. She notes that her father forgave his political opponents, admitted errors on his own part and found peace after the tragic and tempestuous years of his reign. She also displays no bitterness over the treatment of her mother, Princess Lilian, viewing the Belgians' resentment of their King's second wife as an inevitable, if unfortunate, human reaction.

The Belgian Revolution

2011-07-20T19:51:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow, of course, will be Belgium's National Day, commemorating the swearing-in of the first King of the Belgians, Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, 180 years ago. (Sadly, barring an overnight miracle, it will be Belgium's second National Day in a row without a government!) I can warmly recommend reading the New Advent article on the early modern history of Belgium. Here is an excerpt describing the Belgian Revolution of 1830, the fruit of a curious alliance between Catholic and Liberal opponents of King William I of the Netherlands, which gave rise to the new Kingdom of Belgium:

Soon after the victory of the Allied Powers, who became masters of Belgium, they established there a provisional government under the Duke of Beaufort (11 June, 1814). The new governing powers promptly proclaimed to the Belgians that, in conformity with the intentions of the Allied Powers, "they would maintain inviolable the spiritual and the civil authority in their respective spheres, as determined by the canonical laws of the Church and by the old constitutional laws of the country". These declarations roused hopes which, however, were destined to be disappointed; for by the secret treaty of Chaumont (1 March, 1814), confirmed by Article 6 of the Treaty of Paris (30 May, 1814), it had even then been decided that Holland should receive an addition of territory, and that this addition should be Belgium. The secret Treaty of London (23 June, 1814) furthermore provided that the union of the two countries was to be internal and thorough, so that they "would form one and the same State governed by the constitution already established in Holland, which would be modified by mutual consent to accord with new conditions". The new State took the name of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, and was placed under the sovereignty of William I of Orange-Nassau.

The object of the Powers in creating the Kingdom of the Netherlands was to give France on her northern frontier a neighbour strong enough to serve as a barrier against her, and with this aim in view they disposed of the Belgian provinces without consulting them. The State resulting form this union seemed to offer numerous guarantees of prosperity from the standpoint of economics. Unfortunately, however, the two peoples, after being separated for more than two centuries, had conflicting temperaments; the Dutch were Calvinists, the Belgians Catholics, and the former, although greatly in the minority, 2,000,000 as against 3,500,000 Belgians, expected to rule the Belgians and to treat them as subjects. These differences could have been lessened by a sovereign who would take the duty on himself; they were, however, aggravated by the policy adopted by William I. Arbitrary, narrow-minded, obstinate, and moreover an intolerant Calvinist, he surrounded himself almost exclusively with Dutchmen, who were totally ignorant of Catholic matters and of the Belgian character. In addition, he was imbued with the principles of "enlightened despotism" which made him regard his absolutism as the form of government best suited to the needs of his kingdom, and thus he was unequal to his tasks from the very outset. While still Prince of Fulda, he had persecuted his Catholic subjects until the Diet was forced to check him. As King of the Netherlands, he showed that he had learned nothing by experience, and imagined that he could effect the fusion of the two peoples by transforming Belgium into Holland as far as possible.

On the other hand, the Belgians, passionately attached to their national traditions, and even more to their religious unity, did not take sufficiently into account the profound changes which had taken place in the conditions of the two peoples. Forgetful of the French Revolution and the consequent upheaval of Western Europe they were convinced that past conditions could be restored even in the midst of a society that had outgrown them; nor did they grasp the fact that as the Treaty of London established freedom of worship in the Kingdom of the Netherlands they were under an international obligation which could not be put aside. They calmly demanded, first of the Allied Sovereigns, then of the Congress of Vienna, not only the restoration of the former rights of the Church, but the re-establishment of their old constitution in its entirety. Their disappointment was great when their sovereign, obeying the provisions of the Treaty of London, submitted for their acceptance the "Fundamental Law of Holland", with some modifications. Leaving out of the question the initial injustice in granting each country the same numerical representation in the States-General, despite the fact that the population of Belgium was almost twice that of Holland, it entirely overthrew the old order of things, suppressed the clergy as an order, abolished the privileges of the Catholic Church, and guaranteed the enjoyment of the same civil and political rights to every subject of the king, and equal protection to every religious creed. The Belgian bishops promptly made respectful appeals to the king. William having disregarded these, they issued a "Pastoral Instruction" for the use of the prominent Belgians summoned to present their views on the revised Fundamental Law. This condemned the Law as contrary to religion and forbade its acceptance. The high-handed course taken by the Government to hinder the effectiveness of these measures proved unavailing; of the 1,603 prominent Belgians consulted, 280 did not vote, 796 voted against the Fundamental Law, and only 527 declared themselves in favour of it. The Fundamental Law was therefore rejected by the nation; for, adding to the 527 favourable votes the 100 unanimous votes of the States of Holland, there was a total of only 637 votes. Nevertheless, the king declared the Fundamental Law adopted, because, according to him, those who did not vote were to be regarded as favouring it, while of the 796 who opposed it, 126 did so only because they misunderstood its meaning. Owing to this "Dutch arithmetic", as King William's computations were termed, Belgium found itself under a constitution which it had legally repudiated, a constitution too which proved to the Kingdom of the Netherlands a heavy burden during its brief, stormy existence.

The adoption of the Fundamental Law, by the king's decision, did not end the conflict between the civil authority and the Belgian conscience. Besieged with questions as to whether it was permissible to take the oath of fidelity to the Fundamental Law, the bishops published their "Doctrinal Decision", which condemned it (1815). In consequence, many Catholics in obedience to their religious superiours, refused to take the oath, resigned their offices and their seats in the legislature. On the other hand, the Prince de Méan, former Prince-Bishop of Liège, took the required oath, and the king immediately appointed him to the archiepiscopal See of Mechlin, then vacant. The king next had attempted to gain the Holy See for his side in his struggle with the Belgian episcopacy, by practically demanding of it Bulls of canonical investiture for his candidate as well as a formal censure of the "Doctrinal Decision". The pope replied gently but firmly, condemning the words of the oath of allegiance to the Fundamental Law, sending a Brief of commendation to the bishops, and refusing investiture to the Prince de Méan until he should have publicly declared that his oath had not bound him to anything "contrary to the dogmas and laws of the Catholic Church, and that in swearing to protect all religious communions, he understood this protection only in its civil sense". The condescension of the Holy See in this matter, instead of winning the king to moderation, seemed to make him bolder. Reviving the obsolete claims of the old Gallican and Josephinist governments, and determined to overcome the opposition of the Bishop of Ghent, he had the bishop prosecuted for having published the "Doctrinal Decision"; for having corresponded with Rome without authorization; and for having published the papal Bulls without approbation. The Brussels Court of Assizes condemned the bishop to be deported for contumacy (1817), and the Government, carrying the sentence even farther, had the bishop's name written on the pillory, between two professional thieves sentenced to be pilloried and branded. The clergy of the Diocese of Ghent who remained faithful to the bishop were also persecuted by the State. The conflict would have continued indefinitely had not the prelate died in exile, in 1821, after having had twice confessed the Faith in the face of persecution. After his death, the Government conceded that the oath should be binding only from the civil point of view, which set at rest the Catholic conscience and ended the difficulties which had beset the first six years of the Kingdom of the Netherlands.

If there had been any real desire on the part of King William to respect the conscience of Catholics, who constituted the greater part of the nation, he would now have inaugurated a policy, which would have set aside religious differences, and started the kingdom along lines leading to the frank and cordial fusion of the two peoples. This was not done. On the contrary, in his obstinate determination to treat the sovereign pontiff as an outsider, and to bring the Catholic Church under the omnipotence of the State, William in his blind fury continued his policy of oppression. Before the above-mentioned conflict, the king had created a State commission for Catholic affairs and had declared in the decree that "no church ordinance coming from a foreign authority — [i.e. the pope] could be published without the approval of the Government". This was equivalent to re-establishing in the full dawn of the nineteenth century the placet of the despotic governments of the former regime. Going farther, he instructed this commission "to be on their guard in maintaining the liberties of the Belgian Church", an extravagant formula borrowed from defunct Gallicanism, implying that the commission should take care to withdraw the Belgian Church from the legitimate authority of the pope. The men he had chosen to help him pushed their distrust and hatred of the Catholic hierarchy farther than he did. Baron Goubau, the head of the board of Catholic worship, and his superior, Van Maanen the minister of justice, by a system of petty persecutions soon made their names the most hated in Belgium, and largely increased the unpopularity of the Government.

In 1821 the Government began to be chiefly occupied with the suppression of liberty in the matter of education. Since the foundation, in 1817, of the three State universities, Liège, Ghent, and Louvain, higher education had been entirely under the control of the State, which now assumed control of middle inferior education (20 May, 1821) by a ministerial ordinance which allowed no free school to exist without the express consent of the Government. Lastly, a decree of 14 June, 1825, suppressed free middle superior instruction by determining that no college could exist without being expressly authorized, and that no one could teach the children of more than one family without an official diploma. A second decree of the same date declared anyone who made his studies abroad ineligible for any public office in the kingdom. The State having monopolized all lay education, there still remained the training of the clergy, which by the general canons of the Church, and those of the Council of Trent, in particular, belonged exclusively to the bishops. By a third decree, 14 June, 1825, said to be a revival of that of Joseph II, establishing the General Seminary, a State institution was erected under the name of Philosophical College (College philosophique), in which every aspirant for the priesthood was obliged to make a course of at least two years before he could be admitted to a grand séminaire.

On this occasion, the Archbishop of Mechlin, whose servility toward the king had till then known no limit, did not hesitate to make some respectful remonstrances to the Government, declaring that he could not in conscience accept these decrees. Goubau, in answering, repeated in substance Napoleon's gibe to the Prince de Broglie, "Your conscience will be regarded as a mere pretext and for good reasons". The other bishops, however, the capitular vicars of vacant sees, and the rest of the clergy, unanimously took sides with the Archbishop of Mechlin and joined in his protest. The Catholic Belgian deputies to the States-General protested; the Holy See protested in its turn. Nothing availed; the Government closed the free colleges one after another, thereby ruining a flourishing educational system in which Belgian families had absolute confidence; the Philosophical College was opened with great pomp, with a corps of instructors little thought of, either from a scientific or a moral point of view; students were drawn thither by bursaries or scholarships, and by exemption from military service. The Government becoming more radical than ever, then undertook to create schism in the Belgian Church by elaborating a plan, whereby the authority of the Holy See would be abolished and the bishops placed immediately under the Government.

But all these measures only increased the discontent of the Belgians and their passive resistance. To get the mastery, the Government conceived the idea of having recourse a second time to the sovereign pontiff, and broaching again the project of a Concordat, which had failed in 1823, on account of the king's inadmissible claims. The king counted, on the one hand, on wresting as many concessions as possible from the Holy See, and on the other, on gaining popularity among the Belgians through the arrangement he would make with the pope. These calculations failed, and once more the superiority of papal diplomacy was made manifest in the difficult negotiations which finally resulted in the Concordat of 1827. The Philosophical College ceased to be obligatory for clerics and became a matter of choice; in place of having the right of designating the bishops, the king was obliged to content himself with that of vetoing the choice made by the Chapters. The Concordat, which filled the Catholics with joy, excited the ire of the Calvinists and the Liberals, and the Government tried hard to quiet the latter by showing the worst possible will in the application of the treaty which it had just concluded with the Vatican. The Philosophical College was not declared optional until 20 June, 1829; vacant episcopal sees were provided with titulars elected according to the conditions laid down in the Concordat, but a royal decree rendered the recruiting of the clergy almost impossible save from the ranks of the old pupils of the Philosophical College. The Catholic opposition, headed by Bishop Van Bommel, the new Bishop of Liège, was so vigorous, and political complications so grave, that the king at last consented to permit the bishops to reorganize their seminaries as they wished (20 October, 1829). Then, as the crisis became more serious, he went farther, and on 9 June, 1830, entirely suppressed the Philosophical College, which had been deserted form the time attendance had become optional. On 27 May of the same year, the king even revoked his decrees regarding freedom in education; he thanked Goubau and committed to Catholic zeal the direction of matters concerning Catholic worship, and would have left no ground for grievance on the part of Catholics had he not, at the last moment, seen fit, in the negotiations with the Holy See, to demand the right of approving appointments to canonries. But all the king's concessions, which were really extorted from him by force of circumstances, and despite his dogged reluctance, came too late, and the negotiations in regard to the question of canons were still in progress when the Belgian Revolution broke out.

As to the causes of an event so decisive for the future of the Belgian people, it is highly improbable that if King William had given them grounds for complaint only in religious matters, the public discontent would have culminated in a revolution. The Catholics, faithful to the teachings of the Church and to the counsels of their pastors, had no wish to exceed what was lawful and knew that they should confine themselves to peaceful protests. But the Government had injured many other interests to which a great number were more sensitive than they were to the oppression of the Catholic Church, at which they would have been wholly indifferent if, indeed, they would not have rejoiced. It will suffice to recall the principal grievances. Although Holland's population was less than Belgium by almost half, each nation was allowed the same number of deputies in the States-General. Acquaintance with the Dutch language was at once made obligatory for all officials. The greater number of institutions of the central Government were located in Holland, and the majority of the offices were reserved for the Dutch. Taxes on corn and on slaughtering weighed most heavily on the southern provinces. The press was under the arbitrary control of the Government and the courts, and they vigorously prohibited any criticism of the Government and its deputies. The Government stubbornly opposed the introduction of the jury system, the verdicts of which, inspired by a saner appreciation of public feeling, would often have calmed opinion instead of inflaming it. Lastly, as if wishing to fill the measure of its blunders, the Government shamelessly hired an infamous forger condemned by the French tribunals, a certain Libri-Bagnano, whose journal, the "National", never ceased insulting and taunting every Belgian who had the misfortune of incurring the displeasure of the Government. There came a time when the Liberals, who, as late as 1825, had applauded the Government in its persecution of the Church, found themselves attacked in their turn, and began to protest with more violence than the Catholics had ever done.

Then the inevitable happened. Equally oppressed, the two parties forgot their differences, and joined forces. The fiery anti-clerical Louis de Potter, author of various historical works extremely irreligious in tone, was one of the first to advocate, from prison in which he was confined for some violation of laws concerning the press, the union of the Catholics and the Liberals. This union was made the more easy because the greater part of the Catholics, under the influence of the teachings of Lamennais and the pressure of events, had abandoned their stand of 1815 and had rallied to the doctrine of "liberty in all and for all". Once effected, the union of Catholics and Liberals soon bore fruit. Their first step, proposed by the Catholics who wished to employ lawful means only, was the presentation of petitions by every class of society in turn. Hundreds of petitions piled up in the offices of the States-General, demanding liberty of education, freedom of the press, and the righting of other wrongs. While these petitions were being circulated the perfect order that was maintained deceived the king. On a tour which he made through the southern provinces, to convince himself personally as to the state of the public mind, he received such demonstrations of loyalty that he persuaded himself that the petition was a factitious movement, and went so far as to declare, at Liège, that the conduct of the petitioners was infamous (1829).

This false step was his undoing. In the face of his refusal to initiate any reforms, the country became incensed, and the direction of the national movement passed from the hands of the peaceful Catholics into those of the impatient Liberals. The resistance soon took on a revolutionary character. The ecclesiastical authorities had foreseen this, and had for a long time opposed both the "Union", and the petitions which were its first manifestation. The Bishops of Ghent and Liège had come forward to remind the faithful of their duties to the sovereign; the Archbishop of Mechlin had assured the Government of the neutrality of the clergy; the nuncio had shown his disapproval of the "Union", and the Cardinal-Secretary of State had stigmatized it as monstrous. But the religious authorities soon found themselves powerless to control the movement. The Catholics, imitating the Liberals, had recourse to violent language; their most important periodical refused to print the conciliatory letter of the Bishop of Liège, which one of the Liberal leaders styled an episcopal-ministerial document; the lower clergy, in turn, allowed itself to be drawn into the current; the Government, wilfully blind, continued wantonly, in its imprudence, to pile up the materials for a great conflagration; at last nothing was lacking but a fuse. This came from France. The revolution of July, 1830, lasting from the 27th to the 29th, overthrew the government of Charles X; on 25 August, of the same year, a riot broke out in Brussels and brought on the revolution which culminated in the conflicts between (24-26 September) the Dutch troops and the people of Brussels assisted by re-enforcements of volunteers from the provinces. The whole country rose up; at the end of some weeks the Dutch army had evacuated the soil of the southern provinces, and Belgium was free.

The Princess Lilian Cardiology Foundation

2011-07-18T20:12:00.002-04:00

In Le mythe d'Argenteuil (2006), Michel Verwilghen gives a full and detailed account of the development of the Princess Lilian Cardiology Foundation (pp. 309-314). Established in 1958 in Brussels, the institution combined the scientific interests and charitable inclinations of the second wife of King Leopold III. Following the widely publicized, successful surgery of her teenaged son, Prince Alexandre, who had been suffering from a cardiac abnormality then inoperable in Belgium, by Professor E. Gross at the Children's Hospital in Boston, Lilian began to receive appeals from other Belgians for help in obtaining similar care in the United States for their loved ones. Initially on an informal basis, the Princess responded generously to the requests, supplying financial assistance and organizing administrative and moral support for the patients. Her thoughtful and compassionate approach extended through their whole experience; during the transatlantic flight, sufferers were provided with companionship, children were given gifts to raise their spirits. (Little girls received dolls, for instance).

As the Princess' work expanded, she decided, at the suggestion of Belgian diplomat Joseph Jennen, to form a non-profit organization to perpetuate her enterprise. Accordingly, on December 10, 1958, she created the Fondation Cardiologique Princesse Lilian. The press, all too often brutally abusive of Lilian, had the good grace to give this accomplishment, at least, appreciative treatment; only Le Drapeau Rouge, a Communist, and, not surprisingly, violently anti-monarchist paper, saw fit to sneer at her efforts. At the outset, the headquarters of the Princess' foundation was placed across the street from the Royal Palace of Brussels, at 14 Rue Bréderode. It would later be moved to Ixelles, a suburb of Brussels. A close friend of Leopold and Lilian, Ernest-John Solvay, presided over the organization for the first few years of its existence. After the King, the Princess and their children left Laeken for the country estate of Argenteuil, in 1961, however, Solvay was replaced by Fernand Collin, a financier, jurist and professor at the Katholieke Universiteit Leuven. For a number of years, a former secretary of King Leopold, Charles Everarts de Velp, served as the secretary of Princess Lilian's foundation. The institution's administrative council included eminent Belgian personalities from the worlds of business and politics, such as Camille Gutt, former member of the World War II cabinet of Prime Minister Hubert Pierlot.

In the decades to come, through her foundation, Princess Lilian would furnish vital assistance to more than 3000 people. The statistics for the first decade alone are impressive: 123 Belgians traveled to the United States for surgery; 100 returned home cured, representing roughly an 80 % operative success rate. Without the care possible in America, these patients, including many children, would have died within a few months. Thanks to Lilian's efforts, however, they were blessed with a fresh opportunity for a long and full life. Around this time, technological advances in Belgian hospitals meant it was no longer necessary for patients to travel to the United States for cardiac care. Therefore, the focus of the Princess Lilian Cardiology Foundation shifted to importing American surgeons to perform delicate new operations in Belgium, while furthering the training of Belgian physicians in the latest techniques in the United States. Working in university clinics, with their Belgian counterparts, American specialists saved lives, relieved suffering and contributed to the development of Belgian medicine. Under the auspices of the Princess' foundation, cardiological symposia took place at Belgian universities, and many distinguished participants from all over the world enjoyed the gracious and elegant hospitality of Argenteuil. At the third symposium, hosted by the universities of Brussels, Ghent and Louvain, from May 22-25, 1962, legendary physicians Denton Cooley and Michael DeBakey performed open-heart surgery on Belgian patients, while professors from the local faculties of medicine watched the operations on television screens in neighboring rooms. At Ghent, Princess Lilian herself attended the event.

Here is a short video clip, from the recent RTBF documentary Léopold III, mon père, discussing the cultural and scientific activities of Leopold and Lilian, and including honorable mention of the Princess' cardiological foundation. As far as I know, Lilian's daughter-in-law, Princess Léa, assumed direction of the institution after her mother-in-law passed away.

The Thirteenth of July

2011-07-13T09:35:00.006-04:00

Today is the anniversary of the tragic carriage accident that claimed the life of Ferdinand-Philippe, Duc d'Orléans (1810-1842), Prince Royal of France and beloved eldest brother of Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians. (Above, we see the grieving Orléans family, as King Louis-Philippe presents his son's young heir, Prince Philippe, Count of Paris). Here, in English translation, is the famous poem, lamenting Ferdinand-Philippe's untimely passing, by Alfred de Musset. (The French original may be found HERE). While celebrating the martial valor of the Orléans brothers, the author also mourns the sad fate of the romantic and artistically gifted Marie d'Orléans, the younger sister of Louise-Marie and Ferdinand-Philippe who succumbed to tuberculosis in 1839, two years before her brother's death; I have discussed Marie's life in more detail, HERE. It seems slightly strange and ironic that Ferdinand-Philippe, a scion of the liberal and revolutionary House of Orléans, was killed on the eve of Bastille Day.

The Thirteenth of July

Joy here below is ever young and new;
As much as grief grows old, so far 'tis true.
But yesterday the prince was swept from sight;
He hardly sleeps the sleep of endless night;
The angel-wings that bore him through the air,
Close not; of him to speak too soon we dare.

Sad was the day when on that little bier
This death untimely came to wake our fear.
Sad was the sight; the ancient cathedral
Was dressed in black, as for death's festival;
Sad was the noise when all the mourners kneel,
Romancers 'gan to sing, and tales to tell.

And we were silent, we, his childhood's friends,
While toward the somber vault he slowly wends,
Thoughts of the cradle us the coffin lends;
His shade, perhaps, could hear that deep silence
Which round his tomb fell on our hearts and sense.

Now that day comes, than this one year more old,
To rouse our grief and strike our hearts with cold,
We must salute the day of bale untold.
When this young man died in his strength and flower,
From nothingness preserved by havoc's power,
And by his youth and by the ordained hour.

To whom, just God, can any say:
We meet To-morrow? Hope and Death each other greet,
And hand in hand walk over desolate street.
With steady steps one goes, and calm and veiled;
The other's knees upon the road have failed;
Bruised she lags and weeps, her cheek has paled.

O Death, thy steps are slow, but they count full.
Who thought thee blind and inexorable?
Who ever said that thou, implacable,
And drunk with blood, a specter roamed to strike,
And sweep at random, grain of sand most like,
The temples, deserts, fields, and town and dike.

Thou knowest how to choose upon this earth;
'Tis true, to error oft thou givest birth;
Thy hand is not so sure; it is thy worth
To humor some who would thee darkly please,
To spare the madman, prop the impostor's knees,
Let vice grow gray, and sorrow starve and freeze.

But when the noble child of royal race
Flies from the sloth antique of royal place,
Seeks in the studio truth in art to trace,
Creates in dream the fair ideal shape,
With maiden hand doth ope the stone agape,
To let the beauty, let the life escape;

And when this lovely sprite of genius pure—
Her name was Marie, name of sweetest lure—
Over her cherished work doth bend demure,
To paint Jeanne when questioning her heart,
The village child who healed her country's smart
Lends her her piety and modest art;

Then noble hands with ardent labor tired,
No time for rest, but time for prayer required;
Those hands so rich in alms, with visions fired,
Those hands which bitter tears have wiped away,
With sudden shiver, still and icy lay.
From Pisa moves the coffin day by day.

Her brother dead last year, what had he done?
What good to kill—why on that bier a son,
A young man dying, followed by his sire?
What heart so cold on earth, devoid of fire,
As not to shudder, not in silence pause
Before this crime, of chance without a cause?

What had he done but come and follow fate
With us in school, his spirit cultivate,
Reflect with us, with us both work and play,
His rank assume beneath the sun of day,
In greatness of the heart alone arrayed,
And, since he was a prince, acquire his trade?

What had he done but love, and seek to see
What God has done in his great goodness free,
That which already pales in our ennui,
Country, and honor, words to love we seem?
He knew, and gave the poor his pity's gleam,
Love to the bravest, to the pure esteem.

What had he done but what he was to do?
When cannon growled, he waved the banner too;
When France would sleep, unto the camps he flew;
The memory thereof would come, perhaps, with time;
For many times his thought frontiers would climb,
While listening drums that beat the marching chime.

Him what could calumny itself reproach?
More cruel blow can ne'er again encroach.
If not regret, who did not give respect?
Go ask the crowd with hate and envy decked.
No stain upon his brow or on his fame;
No man hath left behind a purer name.

A party man to triumph or to ruin run,
What foe of father dares to hate the son?
Who could to such a tomb an insult call?
A ball, they say, in times of Charles the Tenth,
Upon the throne steps he did stop at length;
Then, since he falls, we let him sleep in strength.

Ah, thus to die, poor prince, at thirty years!
No word from wife, without his mother's tears,
And clasping no one in his arms that throb!
No agony of death, no parting sob!
God only in his heart could read the prayer
Which angels teach to those who dying are.

May God, who hears, me from blaspheming keep!
I do not like this fate so foul and deep,
Which breaks a diadem against a stone,
Because a driver's hand too weak has grown.
O ye, who pass beside that fatal brink,
Look to your steps, and on your loved ones think!

He liked our pleasures, our troubles made him sad;
Of that old book where count of time he had,
His hand with ours had turned many a page.
He lived with us, he was of our own age.
His youthful thought with ancient courage ran;
A king of France to be, he was the man.

I think, and say to all who will believe,
No courtier I, nor would that grief deceive,
But empty is a place in history.
A century was there, and a glory,
In this staunch man with sister by his side,
A lovely head with fearless heart to guide.

It had been great, the day when his sword stood
Retempered, washed and bright in strangers' blood,
Had to his native country brought her pride;
The while the child with art preoccupied,
Keeping upon the threshold charity,
Could make the Muse come in with liberty.

Nemours, Aumale, Joinville to battle call!
Glorious that shout along our city wall
The people hear, the ramparts they repeat;
While in the chapel, praying calm and sweet,
Though pale, her eyes with gentle brightness shine,
The sister calleth down bounty divine.

It had been fine, that youth and life so strong,
So warmly loved and waited for so long,
Awaking thus in our mother country.
I speak of it by chance, because I see;
Some one may weep him, having better known,
His wife and friend, and now his widow lone.

Poor prince! In his last moment what a dream!
An hour (how long to Time doth one hour seem?) —
An hour a century with wo could mar!
He was departing, almost for the war.
Father he was, and son; one hour was his;
He would his mother and the children kiss.

'Twas then that death his noble victim sought;
Death spared him on the desert burning hot,
Where Arabs fly, with stealthy step and slow,
About our soldiers whom the fevers mow,
And creep with bloody sword the bush within.
Once more to Neuilly, this was all his sin.

Neuilly! Oh, charming home and memory sweet!
Childish illusions, ah, ye come and fleet!
When by the portal in those alleys green
We children saw the smiling, watchful queen,
Who then could think we must one day return,
To find the veiled head, to see death's urn?

What plans we made at that young age naive,
When all things speak, and heart doth not deceive!
When with such force hath man so much of hope?
Innocent valor, bold with all to cope!
The hour might come, the moment might entrance,
And we were proud and wild: we had our France.

Strange dream! Death came, and all has fallen asleep.
How can a hope so just and fair and deep
Become an useless or a cruel thing?
Last year he died, no funeral hymn we sing:
Where stood that blood-stained shop, a chapel stands.
The rest? What age is in oblivion's hands?

He did not die alone when going to Neuilly.
Of nine of us who marched in company,
How many are dead! Albert, so brave and free,
Mortemart, and thou, brave Laborderie,
Who madest haste to love, this life to know,
The best of all of us, and first to go!

If grief could live, your names would famous be,
O friends! May that sad, gloomy deity,
Whose fires weak light to our time faintly lend,
To you the funeral torches brightness send!
And forlorn hope, of this a somber age,
We must beware in this dark fight we wage;

For France, just now the mistress of the world,
Has been struck down and backward hurled,
And, like Juliet, beneath the arches dark,
In part awake, in part of death the mark,
With staggering step, in rugged purple's folds,
Among the tombs her random march she holds.

July, 1843.

Defending Life in Belgium

2011-07-10T21:01:00.000-04:00

A hopeful and inspiring article by Bryan Kemper on the second March for Life in Brussels, which took place this past spring. The official website of March for Life Belgium may be found HERE.

Belgium and America

2011-07-04T18:51:00.001-04:00

Happy Independence Day to all my American visitors. As it happens, Prince Philippe and Princess Mathilde of Belgium recently visited the United States. Above is a photograph of the couple at the Arlington National Cemetery in northern Virginia, laying a memorial wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, in honor of those who died in Belgium during World War II in the Battle of the Bulge. Despite many Americans' negative attitude to monarchy, the Kingdom of Belgium and the United States of America have a long history of friendship. As is well known, of course, together with the other Allied powers, the United States fought to free Belgium from German occupation in both world wars. Herbert Hoover also directed the famous Commission for Relief in Belgium during the humanitarian crisis of World War I. After the war, a grateful King Albert I officially designated Hoover a Friend of the Belgian People. In 1919, King Albert, Queen Elisabeth, and Prince Leopold embarked upon a triumphal tour of the United States, to enthusiastic acclaim. In 1940, Herbert Hoover organized a vindication committee to defend King Leopold III from French and British accusations of treason. Distinguished American diplomats, such as Joseph Davies, Hugh Gibson and John Cudahy, made impressive contributions to the effort to clear Leopold's name. Unfortunately, after he issued his Political Testament in 1944, repudiating the treaties which the Belgian government-in-exile had concluded with the Allies during World War II without royal approval, the official American attitude towards Leopold III would become hostile. Nevertheless, the King and his wife, Princess Lilian, found a faithful friend in General Alexander Patch, whose troops had liberated the Belgian royal family from their Nazi jailers at Strobl, Austria, in May, 1945.

Sad News

2011-07-04T15:43:00.000-04:00

Otto von Habsburg (1912-2011), Crown Prince of Austria, Hungary, Croatia and Bohemia, passed away today. Gareth Russell reflects thoughtfully upon his life. May his soul, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

The Conversion of Queen Astrid

2011-07-04T15:02:00.003-04:00

The marriage of the Sovereign Prince of Monaco, Albert II, and South African beauty and swimming champion, Miss Charlene Wittstock, a recent Catholic convert, has reminded me of another princely marriage and another conversion. On August 5, 1930, Astrid of Sweden, Crown Princess of Belgium, was received into the Roman Catholic faith, after two years of religious instruction. Unlike Princess Charlène, who became a Catholic shortly before her wedding, Princess Astrid had already been married to Prince Leopold, the heir to the Belgian throne, for nearly four years, and had already born him a daughter, Princess Joséphine-Charlotte. Furthermore, Astrid was eight months pregnant with her eldest son, the future King Baudouin I, who would himself be noted for his devout Catholic faith, most famously, in his conscientious refusal to sign a bill legalizing abortion in Belgium in 1990. Above, we see Queen Astrid, in the company of her husband, King Leopold III, four years after her conversion, kneeling to Cardinal van Roey, Primate of Belgium, at a musical event held on October 9, 1934, at the Cathédrale St. Rombaut, in Malines. The Cardinal authored an account of Astrid's marriage and conversion, entitled, suitably enough, Le mariage et la conversion de la Reine Astrid (1930).

A detailed account of Astrid's marriage and conversion may also be found in the excellent collective work, Astrid 1905-1935, (2005), edited by Christian Koninckx. It is not my intention today to describe all the vicissitudes of the negotiations between the Vatican, the Archbishop of Malines, Cardinal van Roey, the Archbishop of Uppsala, Nathan Söderblom, and the royal courts of Belgium and Sweden prior to the union of Leopold and Astrid, but suffice it to say that it was a highly sensitive, delicate diplomatic matter for all parties. Initially displeased at the prospect of a Catholic prince marrying a Protestant princess, Pope Pius XI eventually granted permission for the wedding to take place, on condition that Leopold and Astrid sign a sworn undertaking to raise their children in the Catholic faith, and that Astrid likewise promise, on oath, not to prevent her husband or children from practicing their religion. As a conciliating gesture towards the Swedes, the Belgian sovereigns had wondered if the Vatican might allow a double religious wedding, a Lutheran ceremony preceded or followed by a Catholic ceremony, but the Catholic authorities refused to permit any such compromise. Only a strictly, emphatically civil marriage in Stockholm, an anomaly in Sweden at the time, was permitted, followed by a religious marriage in Brussels a week later. Furthermore, the religious ceremony was a relatively brief one, since no nuptial Mass took place, in accord with the ecclesiastical regulations regarding mixed marriages.

If Astrid had converted to Catholicism before her marriage, everything would have been much simpler. Yet, the Belgian royal family were concerned that any such conversion should be motivated, not by mere political expediency, but by sincere conviction of the truth of the Catholic faith. The Princess' father-in-law, King Albert I, had confided to Cardinal van Roey that he suspected Astrid would become a Catholic in due course, provided she were treated with gentleness and consideration. Indeed, after her arrival in Belgium, Astrid not only honored the conditions of her marriage, by raising no objections to her daughter's education in the Catholic faith, but also ceased attending Protestant services and began to accompany her husband to Sunday Mass. In 1928, two years after her marriage, she informed Cardinal van Roey, through Leopold, that she desired instruction in the Catholic faith. Canon Dessain, the Cardinal's secretary, became her teacher. Dessain, who had studied law at Oxford, was familiar with Protestantism and spoke fluent English, facilitating his interaction with Astrid, who initially spoke better English than French, let alone Dutch. The Princess' catechesis remained secret, since nobody knew what the outcome would be. By Easter, 1930, however, it was clear that Astrid wished to become a Catholic.

Astrid's formal reception into the Roman Catholic Church took place some months later, on August 5, 1930, in an intimate ceremony in the chapel of the episcopal palace of Malines, in the presence of Prince Leopold, Cardinal van Roey, the Cardinal's secretaries, Canon Dessain and Abbé Leclef, and a Mademoiselle Dessain, who served as the Princess' sponsor. Astrid made her profession of faith and received Confirmation. She had already, of course, been confirmed in the Lutheran church as a young girl, but the Catholic church did not consider the sacrament to be valid. By contrast, no baptism took place, since the Catholic church did view the baptism administered by the Swedish church as valid. The next day, she received the Holy Eucharist for the first time. Astrid's childhood friend Anna Sparre relates in her memoir, Vännen min (1985), that the Princess took her conversion deeply to heart, writing Anna a sober, sincere letter describing the ceremony and declaring that her decision to become a Catholic gave her peace of soul. Apparently, Astrid also touchingly described her conversion, and her first Confession, in a letter to her mother, Princess Ingeborg of Sweden, noting her happiness at finally being able to go to Communion with Leopold. Upon becoming engaged to the handsome Belgian prince, a delighted Astrid had written to her youthful religious educator and mentor, the Archbishop of Uppsala, Nathan Söderblom, that Leopold's soul was even more beautiful than his appearance. Now, it seems, Astrid was pleased to be more fully spiritually united to Leopold, by embracing his religion. May God grant Princess Charlène the same peace and joy.

A New Princess in Monaco

2011-07-02T15:34:00.000-04:00

Mad for Monaco has a series of images of Prince Albert II and his new Princess Charlene, united at last before God and man. Congratulations and blessings to the couple and to the princely family and people of Monaco!

Chapelle Royale de Dreux

2011-06-28T16:21:00.000-04:00

A moving virtual musical tour of the burial place of the House of Orléans, the family of Queen Louise-Marie of the Belgians.

A Waltz with a Princess

2011-06-27T15:54:00.000-04:00

Quite by accident, I came across this odd, rather snide little anecdote about Princess Marie-Christine and her mother, Princess Lilian, from the relentlessly name-dropping memoirs of British designer Nicholas Haslam.

Another less fulfilling Parisian coup de foudre began at Isobel Goldsmith's exotic debutante ball, where all the girls were instructed to wear tête fleuriée. Next to me at dinner a towering tiara of flowers encircled the head of a rather pretty blonde named Marie-Christine. We danced frequently, and suddenly she held me very close, whispering that this moment was all she had dreamed of, waltzing with a handsome young Englishman; she would like it to last forever, and even hinted at something more permanent. Somewhat alarmed, I asked Isobel the name of this forthright friend. I was even more alarmed to learn she was a princess of Belgium, daughter of King Leopold III and Mme de Réthy. And within a few minutes I was bowing to that supremely elegant woman, who was clearly giving me the once-over. I failed her testing eye. But not, it turned out, entirely. A year or so later, at Patrick Lichfield's wedding to Leonora Grosvenor, there again was ma princesse, with the same intentions; so much so that I was asked to spend the night at Cholmondeley Castle, where she and Mme de Réthy were staying. I declined, I hope politely. Later I rather proudly told the story to Tom Parr. "Good God", he said."Just imagine being the Tony Snowdon of Belgium". (Redeeming Features: A Memoir, 2009, pp. 270-271)