Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte, Queen of France

August 9 will mark the 180th anniversary of the rise to the French throne of Louis-Philippe d'Orléans and Marie-Amélie of Naples, the parents of Queen Louise-Marie of Belgium. (Interestingly, it will also be the 178th anniversary of Louise-Marie's marriage to Leopold I and her rise to the Belgian throne). Therefore, this fine article on Marie-Amélie's first cousin, Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte of France, the only surviving child of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, is most timely. The July Revolution of 1830, which made Marie-Amélie queen, drove Marie-Thérèse into exile, after a reign of twenty minutes as the consort of her cousin, the hapless Louis XIX.

In her historical work on the French monarchy, Henriette of Belgium, Duchesse de Vendôme, devotes a number of touching passages to the tragic but heroic Marie-Thérèse. Henriette describes this royal orphan as a beautiful soul, but emotionally scarred by the terrible traumas of her youth, and often misjudged due to her reserved, taciturn ways. Henriette also asserts that Marie-Amélie (the daughter of Marie-Antoinette's favorite sister, Queen Maria Carolina of Naples) was the person who best understood Marie-Thérèse's inner suffering and moral worth. She emphasizes that the two princesses shared a deep mutual respect, affection and trust. A bitter irony, as politics would tragically drive them apart, before dooming both to die as exiled French queens.

For further reading, Elena Maria Vidal's blog Tea at Trianon is a goldmine of information on Marie-Thérèse and her family. I also highly recommend her sensitive and beautifully written novel, Madame Royale, based on the life of this brave lady. Here is an informative talk by Dr. Susan Nagel, author of the acclaimed biography of the princess, Marie-Thérèse: Child of Terror. While I don't agree with everything she says, I still found the lecture very interesting. Finally, here is a beautiful video tribute to Marie-Thérèse.

October 19, 1851: The Death of Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte of France

It is a curious coincidence that Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte of France, the famous "Madame Royale", eldest daughter and only surviving child of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, passed away only three days after the 58th anniversary of her mother's execution. Marie-Thérèse may seem a bit off topic for this blog, but she was actually a very important person in the youth of the first Queen of the Belgians. She was a cousin, godmother (by proxy) and namesake of the little Louise-Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte-Isabelle d'Orléans, future consort of Leopold I. Marie-Thérèse and Marie-Amélie, Louise-Marie's mother, shared deep faith, hope and charity, as well as close ties of kinship, mutual esteem and affection. Sadly, however, relations between Madame Royale and Louise-Marie's father and aunt, Louis-Philippe and Adélaïde d'Orléans, were severely strained. Understandably, Marie-Thérèse never felt comfortable around the children of the renegade First Prince of the Blood who had voted for the beheading of her own adored father, the King. The July Revolution of 1830 marked the final rupture between the Bourbons and the Orléans. Yet, Madame Royale's charitable public works remained an inspiring model for the new Queen Marie-Amélie and her daughters.

I came across Marie-Thérèse's will on a website devoted to her beloved nephew, Henri V of France, the "Comte de Chambord." It is interesting to compare her last wishes with those of her father and mother:

+WILL+

OF MARIE THÉRÈSE OF FRANCE,

DAUGHTER OF KING LOUIS XVI

AND OF QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE,

WHO DIED AT FROHSDORFF,

+OCTOBER 19, 1851+

Following the example of my parents, I forgive, with all my soul, and without exceptions, all those who may have harmed or offended me; sincerely asking God to extend to them His mercy, as well as to me, and supplicating Him to accord me pardon for my faults.

I thank all the FRENCHMEN who have remained attached to my family and to me for the proofs of devotion that they have given us, for the sufferings and pains they endured because of us.

I pray God to pour out His blessings on FRANCE, which I have always loved, even in the midst of my bitterest afflictions.

Having always considered my nephew HENRI and my niece LOUISE as my children, I give them my maternal blessing. They have had the happiness to have been raised in our holy religion, may they always remain faithful to it, may they always be worthy descendants of SAINT LOUIS! May my nephew consecrate his happy faculties to the accomplishment of the great duties which his position imposes upon him! May he never depart from the ways of moderation, justice and truth!

Tragedy of Royal France

I was very touched to read Elena Maria Vidal's novels, Trianon and Madame Royale. In these painstakingly researched, beautifully written and deeply felt works, she paints a compelling portrait of the tragedy of the French royal family in the wake of the Revolution. Drawing heavily on first-hand accounts of the period, told through vignettes and reminiscences, the story is incredibly (indeed, painfully) vivid. It is a tale of Christian fortitude amidst dynastic downfall and national apocalypse.

In Trianon, correcting many misconceptions (such as the King as feeble idiot and the Queen as decadent airhead), Vidal provides a moving and intimate portrayal of the tragic Louis XVI and the viciously maligned Marie-Antoinette. Their love for God, each other, their children and the people of France are all conveyed with poignant intensity. Ultimately, they are killed for the ideals they represent as Catholic monarchs, facing their doom with the charity and magnanimity of martyrs.

Madame Royale tells the story of Marie-Thérèse, Duchesse d'Angoulême, only surviving child of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. It centers on the "Bourbon Restoration" (1814-1830), a period simmering with secret warfare between revolution and reaction. In Trianon, faith gives the King and Queen the courage to face death; in Madame Royale, faith gives their daughter the courage to face life. Marie-Thérèse's story is truly one of bloodless martyrdom. Severely traumatized by the terrible experiences of her youth, trapped in an unhappy, barren marriage, surrounded by plots, intrigues, and political upheavals, she perseveres in faith and good works. Her struggle to restore the Catholic monarchy is ultimately a losing battle, and an immense sense of loss and weariness pervades the book. Particularly poignant are the passages describing Marie-Thérèse's haunting doubts regarding the fate of her little, lost brother and her fruitless search for him. Nonetheless, the novel ends on a hopeful note...

I have read several reviews claiming the books are too religious and/or over-idealize the protagonists. I only want to say that the devout faith of Louis XVI, Marie-Antoinette and Madame Royale is well-documented, and it would not be realistic to ignore or downplay the role of Catholicism in their lives. Nor do I think the royal family are over-idealized. Their spiritual journeys are presented as hard and painful and they struggle with human failings along the way. Against his conscience, for instance, the King signs the Civil Constitution of the Clergy under duress, an action he later bitterly repents. Before maturing gracefully into a noble wife and mother, Marie-Antoinette is portrayed as a kind, charming, but imperfect young girl, apt to be headstrong and rash. Marie-Thérèse's rigidity and refusal to compromise the divine right of kings, coupled with her cold manner (although these are understandable results of her early traumas), contribute to alienating many from the cause of the Catholic monarchy. Nonetheless, the fact remains that she, like her parents, ultimately attains a high degree of spiritual heroism.

The Grandchild of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette

I had never heard until a few days ago on Elena Maria Vidal's blog that Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte, Duchesse d'Angoulême, the daughter of the tragic King and Queen of France, did indeed become pregnant at one point during her exile in England.  Sadly, she suffered a miscarriage or stillbirth, and was never able to have another child.

Still, it is touching to think that Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette did have a grandchild.  I wonder if the baby was a son or a daughter.  Becoming a mother would have meant so much to Marie-Thérèse, in either case,  I am sure, but especially so if the child had been an heir to the throne.

Meanwhile, in an ironic twist of fate, Marie-Thérèse's cousin, Marie-Amélie of Naples, Duchesse d'Orléans, married into the rival branch of the royal family, was blessed with baby after baby, including the first Queen of the Belgians, Louise.  Marie-Thérèse became  Louise's godmother.

On the Tea at Trianon Forum, there is a discussion of the tragic pregnancy of the Duchesse d'Angoulême.  There is a horrible suggestion that she may have been raped in prison during the Terror and suffered damage, impairing her ability to bear children.  While I hope and pray that this was not the case, I would not put much past the depravity of her captors.

"A Crown of Thorns"

(*This is a follow-up to previous posts "Tragedy and Irony" and "Louis-Philippe: A Villain?", so please read those first.)

A while ago, Jorge asked me how Marie-Amélie felt about her husband's questionable taking of the French throne in 1830. I have touched upon her reaction to the July Revolution in previous posts, but I wanted to address the issue in more detail. I have tried to write this account many times in the past, without success. (There seems to be something about French history that tangles up my thoughts. Almost all the articles dealing with France on this blog have been very, very hard to write.) So, my apologies, this discussion is long overdue today, although perhaps it is appropriate, since this is the anniversary of Louis-Philippe's death. I will try my best to answer Jorge's question. I think Marie-Amélie's attitude to the sad events of 1830 can be summed up by her oft-quoted saying: "Since by God's will this Crown of Thorns has been placed on our heads, we must accept it and the duties it entails" (Dyson, p. 198).

She was, indeed, initially very distressed, and troubled in conscience, by the idea of displacing the legitimate heir to the throne, the little Henri V, grandson of Charles X. Steeped, from her earliest childhood, in the traditions of sacral, Catholic monarchy, she must also have been very upset by the liberal character of the revolution, and, in particular, by the separation of Church and State. After her husband's accession, she confided to her diary her grief at the sickening news of mobs desecrating churches, crosses and fleur-de-lis. In contrast to her sister-in-law, the formidable Madame Adelaide, who hated the senior Bourbons, for reasons of family tradition and liberal ideology, and enthusiastically welcomed the prospect of her brother's rise to power, Marie-Amélie reacted hysterically to the July Revolution. She shut herself up in her chamber, lamenting: "What a catastrophe. They will call my husband a usurper!"(Dyson, p. 193).  It was proposed that she and her sons and daughters enter the capital in state, in open carriages, but Marie-Amélie protested: "No! No! It would be repugnant to me, it would have an air of triumph, as if I were triumphing over my own relations" (Dyson, p. 196). 

People remarked upon Marie-Amélie's sorrowful appearance. She looked pale and wan, with a tear-streaked face, her usual quiet dignity quite upset. Shortly before her husband's accession, she was saddened to receive a note from her great-niece, little Louise d'Artois, sister of Henri V, saying the family counted on Marie-Amélie to use her influence in the boy-king's favor. There was, however, not much Marie-Amélie could do. Beset with scruples, she did attempt to persuade her husband to take the child in his arms and make a last appeal to the Parisians to accept and acclaim the boy as their sovereign. Louis-Philippe, however, claimed that such an attempt, in the violent political mood of the moment, would merely have provoked the murder of both himself and Henri. Revisiting the episode, in long, self-justificatory monologues, as an old man, he would insist: "I would not even have been able to cross the bridge to reach the Chamber of Deputies. They would have hurled us both into the water..."(d'Huart, p. 548). 

Despite her heartbreak, however, and pangs of remorse, Marie-Amélie gradually reconciled herself to her new position as Queen, by convincing herself that Louis-Philippe had no choice but to accept the throne, and that he was acting from motives of pure patriotism, by sacrificing his domestic peace and comfort to save France from anarchy.  In her journal, she noted that her chaplain had consoled her by telling her that her husband was obeying the call of duty, under the volatile circumstances (d'Huart, pp. 400-401). He was, nevertheless, widely branded as a treacherous usurper, and his consort did her best to persuade people otherwise, writing letters to the sovereigns of Europe in his defense. Marie-Amélie and her children would always stoutly maintain that Louis-Philippe, despite the intrigues of revolutionary conspirators on his behalf, had never wanted to become King.

A Queen To Be Remembered

The first Queen of the Belgians, Louise d'Orléans, consort of Leopold I, is a figure I have long found fascinating and sympathetic. Since she was generally shy and retiring, died young, and was soon relegated to a vague, pious memory, she has been called la reine oubliée, the "Forgotten Queen." She certainly deserves to be remembered, though! Here are some facts about this lady; I hope they will show why she is intriguing and appealing...

• Her full baptismal name was Louise Marie Thérèse Charlotte Isabelle. The Louise was after her godfather, Louis XVIII of France; the Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte after her godmother, the Duchesse d'Angoulême, only surviving child of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, and Louise's first cousin once removed. Her family called her simply "Louise," but the Belgians, for some reason, called her "Louise-Marie."
• She adored her father, the controversial Louis-Philippe, Duc d'Orléans (later "King of the French") but was even closer to her mother, the universally revered Marie-Amélie of Naples. She inherited much of her mother's piety and charity, along with a certain amount of her father's political liberalism. 
• At 18, she saw her father take the French throne from the elder branch of the Bourbon family, during the July Revolution of 1830. A tragic rupture ensued between the conservative elder branch and the liberal younger branch of the royal house and Louis-Philippe was branded a treacherous usurper by many. Although Louise always defended him, she seems to have been, like her mother, upset by the events. She took refuge in her books, and, together with her sister Marie, dissolved in tears, while Marie cried out: "They want to make papa king!"
• I think she was lovely, with her golden curls and delicate, distinguished features, but she had the reputation of an "ugly duckling," and did not consider herself a beauty. She was especially criticized for her long Bourbon nose, and joked about it herself. 
• Her younger sister, Marie, was an accomplished Romantic artist, and Louise, similarly, had a charming talent for drawing and painting. 
• She was a voluminous correspondent, writing thousands of letters in her lifetime, especially to her parents, and most of all, to her mother. Her eldest brother, Ferdinand-Philippe, Duc de Chartres, teasingly decried this "scribomania" and joked that someone ought to cut off her thumb to put an end to it!
• She was deeply loyal and devoted to her family, especially to the Duc de Chartres, although he did not share her religious faith, and to Marie. Both died young and tragically and Louise was most concerned to provide for regular Masses to be offered for the repose of their souls. She wept copiously when obliged to part from her parents and siblings to marry a man who was practically a stranger to her, Leopold I of Belgium.
• Initially indifferent to her husband (and even painfully reluctant to consummate the marriage) she eventually developed a passionate love and admiration for him and a profound concern for his eternal salvation. 
• She became Queen as a young girl of 20, gifted but lacking in self-confidence. She thought she would make a lamentable royal consort and considered that her youngest sister, the bold and assertive Clementine, would be much better in the role. Nonetheless, Louise always fulfilled her duties well, winning the love and esteem of the Belgian people. 
• She was very tender-hearted, abhorring bloodshed and capital punishment, even in the case of would-be assassins who had attempted her beloved father's life. When Leopold teased her about leaving her as Regent of Belgium while he was abroad, she insisted she would never sign anyone's death warrant. (A striking contrast with her grandfather, the French revolutionary, Philippe Egalité, who was infamous for voting for the death of his cousin, King Louis XVI!)
• Nonetheless, she had a critical eye and something of a vitriolic tongue (and pen). Her sharpness in criticizing, upon her arrival in Belgium, her new subjects' failings created political friction and her alarmed father had to advise her to be more diplomatic.
• She was very intelligent and even her husband, the "Nestor of Kings," came to prize her sound political judgment. She served as a discreet mediatrix between the Catholic and Liberal parties in Belgium. 
• Although she was physically fragile and had a quiet, retiring public image, she loved rousing exercise, costume balls, and anything that stirred the blood. She was an enthusiastic horsewoman.
• On a similar note, her favorite color was red!
• Together with her husband, she maintained a close friendship with their niece, Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom. The two young queens shared, among other things, a keen love of fashion and Louise sent Victoria many glamorous dresses and accessories. I thought it a pity that Louise was left out of the recent film, The Young Victoria! 
• She was deeply saddened by the downfall and exile of the Orléans family following the 1848 Revolution in France. For eight days, she was left without news of her parents' fate and the anguish and suspense played a major role in shattering her already failing health and contributing to her death from tuberculosis in 1850. Nonetheless, she was hailed as the consoling angel of her ruined family. 
• Over the years, she became more and more devoted to God. Her mother called her "my angelic daughter," and her cousin, Caroline of Naples, Duchesse de Berry, who always spoke bitterly of the Orléans family in general, made an exception for Louise. Louise, she declared, was a saint! 

References:

Marie-Amélie, Queen, consort of Louis-Philippe, King of the French. Journal de Marie-Amélie, Reine des Français: 1800-1866, presented by Suzanne d'Huart, 1981.
Dyson, C.C. The life of Marie Amélie last queen of the French, 1782-1866. 1910.
Kerckvoorde, Mia. Louise d'Orléans, reine oubliée. 1991.
Lassère, Madeleine. Louise reine des Belges: 1812-1850. 2006.

Praying to St. Anne

This is not a picture of any of the Belgian royals, but rather of two of the greatest princesses whom they count among their relatives.   This large stained glass window was given to the Basilica of Sainte-Anne d’Auray by Henri, Comte de Chambord, the last heir to the elder line of the Bourbons. The window depicts Henri's mother, Caroline of Naples, Duchesse de Berry, and his aunt, Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte, Duchesse d'Angoulême, the daughter of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. The two women are shown praying to St. Anne, the patron saint of Brittany.  Marie-Thérèse and Caroline were the cousin and niece, respectively, of Marie-Amélie of Naples, Duchesse d'Orléans, later known as Queen of the French, as the wife of Louis-Philippe. Marie-Amélie was the mother of Louise-Marie, the first Queen of the Belgians, and the foremother of all the Belgian kings after Leopold I. 

(Image)

The Tiara of Marie-Thérèse

A while ago, I mentioned the sapphire, diamond and pearl parure of Marie-Amélie of Naples, Queen of the French, the revered mother of Louise d'Orléans, the first Queen of the Belgians. Here is a brief article on the famous emerald and diamond tiara of their cousin, Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte, Duchesse d'Angoulême, the only surviving child of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. More HERE.

Louis XVI's Words To Marie-Thérèse

Since we recently commemorated the death of Marie-Thérèse of France, I wanted to share this moving message, addressed by the doomed monarch to his 11-year-old daughter on the occasion of her First Communion, April 8, 1790. (Via The King and I ).

C'est du fond du coeur, ma fille, que je vous bénis en demandant au Ciel qu'il vous fasse la grâce de bien apprécier la grande action que vous allez faire. Votre coeur est innocent et pur aux yeux de Dieu, vos voeux doivent lui être agréables. Offrez-les-lui pour votre mère et pour moi. Demandez-lui qu'il me donne les grâces nécessaires pour faire le bonheur de ceux sur lesquels il m'a donné l'empire, et que je dois considérer comme mes enfants ; demandez-lui qu'il daigne conserver dans ce Royaume, la pureté de la religion, et souvenez-vous bien, ma fille, que cette sainte religion est la source du bonheur et le soutien dans les adversités de la vie. Ne croyez pas que vous en soyez à l'abri. Vous êtes bien jeune ; mais vous avez déjà vu votre père affligé plus d'une fois. Vous ne savez pas, ma fille, à quoi la Providence vous destine ; si vous resterez dans ce Royaume ou si vous irez en habiter un autre. Dans quelque lieu que la main de Dieu vous pose, souvenez-vous que vous devez édifier par vos exemples, faire le bien toutes les fois que vous en trouverez l'occasion. Mais surtout, mon enfant, soulagez les malheureux de tout votre pouvoir. Dieu ne nous a fait naître dans le rang où nous sommes que pour travailler à leur bonheur et les consoler dans leurs peines. Allez aux autels où vous êtes attendue, et conjurez le Dieu de miséricorde de ne vous laisser oublier jamais les avis de votre père.

***

It is from the depths of my heart, my daughter, that I bless you, asking Heaven to grant you the grace to appreciate well the great action you are about to perform. Your heart is innocent and pure in the eyes of God, your prayers must be pleasing to Him. Offer them to Him for your mother and for me. Ask Him to give me the graces necessary to bring about the happiness of those over whom He has given me dominion, and whom I must consider as my children; ask Him to deign to conserve in this Kingdom, the purity of religion, and remember well, my daughter, that this holy religion is the source of happiness and the support in the adversities of life. Do not believe you are safe from them. You are quite young, but you have already seen your father afflicted more than once. You do not know, my daughter, what Providence has destined for you; whether you will remain in this Kingdom or go to dwell in another. In whatever place the hand of God puts you, remember that you must edify by your example, do good as often as you find the occasion for it. But above all, my child, relieve the unfortunate with all your power. God has caused us to be born into the rank where we are only to work for their happiness and to console them in their pains. Go to the altars where you are expected, and beseech the God of mercy never to let you forget the advice of your father. 

Élisabeth and Henriette

A while ago, I mentioned Princess Henriette of Belgium, Duchesse de Vendôme, and her historical work. I discussed one of Henriette's most notable achievements, the publication of the Journal of her great-grandmother, Marie-Amélie of Naples, Queen of the French. In three volumes, through apt choice of diary excerpts and sensitive, eloquent commentary, Henriette movingly traced the spiritual struggles, the strange and poignant tale of a woman destined to become queen against her most sacred religious, political and ethical principles.  

Even more moving is Henriette's biography of Madame Élisabeth of France, the heroic and saintly youngest sister of King Louis XVI, guillotined during the Terror. A zealous champion of the Catholic monarchy of France, Henriette writes with crusading ardor and an immense tenderness for a kinswoman whom she clearly revered as a holy martyr. Henriette had long campaigned (albeit in vain) for Élisabeth to be officially recognized as a saint, and the book ends with a resounding appeal for her canonisation. As she explains, Henriette wanted Élisabeth raised to the altar, in order that she might be publicly invoked in prayers for the resurrection of Catholic France.

In writing her account, Henriette draws upon the surviving letters of Madame Élisabeth, earlier biographies of the princess, the memoirs of her niece, Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte of France, and the accounts of intimates of the royal family. Henriette supplements these sources with oral family tradition, based upon her ties of kinship with the reigning houses of France, Austria and Saxony. The result is a very powerful portrayal of the spiritual journey of a beautiful, intelligent and ardent royal lady.

By nature stubborn and imperious, Élisabeth became, through faith, prayer and good works, a gentle, humble young woman of immense charity. The same strong will and high spirit that made her a difficult child rendered possible her constant striving for perfection. Denied permission, despite her attraction to the religious life, to become a Carmelite nun like her Aunt Louise, she took on the challenge of living the virginal, consecrated life in the world. Amidst the splendors and temptations of Versailles, no less, she managed to be a model of piety, purity and charity to the poor. Throughout court intrigues and betrayals, even within the royal family, she remained a loyal and loving sister of the King and Queen. Ultimately, she would attain a sublime degree of spiritual heroism amidst the horrors of the Revolution, inconceivable tragedy, cruelty and humiliation, and, finally, a brutal, bloody and untimely death.

Before reading Henriette's account, I was already familiar with Élisabeth's heartrending story. I found it especially moving, however, coming from the pen of another princess, herself the devoted sister of a tragic king, Albert I of Belgium. It was poignant to note that the biography was published at the height of World War II, another dark, apocalyptic time. Henriette's humility was also touching and charming. Modestly presenting her skillful, stirring account as a poor, unworthy tribute, she asks to be forgiven for undertaking such a lofty task, since she only did so as an act of obedience, presumably to a spiritual director. 

Throughout the work, Henriette's deeply conservative religious and political convictions come to the fore. Like Madame Élisabeth, she seems to have disagreed with the King's conciliating policies during the Revolution. Although she venerates him as le roi martyr and portrays him with sensitivity and tenderness, Henriette also strongly criticizes Louis XVI for being (as she saw it) far too yielding and gentle with his enemies, to the detriment and destruction of altar and throne. 

The solidarity of sorrow between the Princess and the people of France, is a theme in Henriette's biography. To illustrate this point, she describes the strange, poignant beauty of her heroine's last moments. Unlike Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, who were tried, condemned to death and executed individually, Madame Élisabeth suffered with a large group of compatriots of many different ranks. She tenderly consoled her fellow victims by leading them in prayer and raising their thoughts to Heaven. Again, unlike the King and Queen, who were buried in coffins, Élisabeth was interred indiscriminately in a mass grave with her companions in misfortune. Despite later searches, during the Bourbon Restoration, her remains were never found. In consequence, there is no funerary monument to set her apart from her people, whom she loved and assisted with all her heart, even in the darkest of hours. "Sa gloire si pure est partout et sa tombe nulle part." (p. 187).

Obituary of Queen Louise-Marie

An obituary of the first Queen of the Belgians, published in 1850 in The Gentleman's Magazine, paints a fascinating and moving portrait of this remarkable woman. Whatever one thinks of her father's actions towards the elder branch of the Bourbon family, she is to be admired...

Oct. 10. At Ostend, aged 38, Her Majesty the Queen of the Belgians.

Louise Marie Thérèse Charlotte Isabelle, Princess of Orléans, was the... daughter of the late King Louis-Philippe and Queen Marie Amélie, and was born at Palermo on the 3d of April, 1812. It is well known how deeply the education of his children engaged the attention of the late King of the French. His family has ever been a model of union, good morals, and domestic virtues. Personally simple in his tastes, order and economy were combined with a magnificence becoming his rank and wealth. Under the able and discreet management which marked the early and subsequent education of his family, those virtues and benevolent tendencies which in after-life constituted the principal charm of her highly useful career exhibited themselves in the youthful days of the Princess of Orléans, and procured for her the love and esteem of all who came within her influence.

On the 11th of August, 1832, the Princess of Orleans was wedded to Leopold, King of the Belgians. The nuptials were celebrated at Compeigne. From the moment she became Queen Consort the august lady commenced that uninterrupted career of boundless charity and benevolence which, for the last eighteen years, has made her the idol of the Belgian people. The quantity of work performed in the Queen of the Belgians' own family, and by others under her superintendence, in the shape of clothing for the poor in inclement weather, was enormous ; and, in the ever-recurring lotteries on behalf of the poor, scarcely an exhibition took place in which the Queen did not contribute articles of clothing, screens, chair-covers, and little nic-nacs in Berlin wool, &c. But it was not only for her charities that the deceased Queen was revered by the people. She was destined to play a not unimportant, although a very unostentatious, part in Belgian politics. The King being a Protestant and herself a Catholic, she constituted herself a sort of link between the Catholic party and the throne. When the Catholic party evinced a disposition to exceed the limits enjoined by a just toleration, the Queen stepped in as a mediatrix ; and when, on the other hand, the liberal party showed a tendency to apply too tight a rein to the Church, the same good offices were never refused.

Louis-Philippe had the highest opinion of her intelligence, and used always to speak of her as "my Louise." In June 1832, when a terrible insurrection was raging in Paris, it was considered necessary for the King, who was at Neuilly, to go to the Tuileries ; but the Queen and royal family, alarmed for his safety, objected to his going alone. There was, however, no male member of his family to accompany him, his two sons, the Ducs d'Orléans and d'Aumale, being already at the Tuileries. At last the King, irritated at the opposition made to him, said, " Well, then, Louise shall accompany me;" and the young princess joyfully set forth. At Laaken, after her marriage, the Queen led a simple life, and employed a good deal of her time in active occupation...The King generally passed his evenings in the private apartments of the Queen, and she frequently read to him. The last two works she read to his Majesty were Lamartine's " Histoire des Girondins," and Thiers' " Histoire du Consulat et de l'Empire." Their Majesties exchanged observations on different passages, and sometimes had a discussion. What the Queen said was always remarkable for justice, depth, and à propos. English was the language which the royal couple employed in their conversations : indeed, all their intimate communications were carried on exclusively in that language. Although her Majesty did not meddle in politics, she studied all political questions, even the most difficult. She caused the ex-tutor of one of her brothers to keep her constantly informed of the intellectual movement of Paris, and made him send her, immediately on their appearance, every publication of any importance. She assiduously read the newspapers, even those of the advanced opposition, both of Belgium and France. In every visit she made to Paris she received the well-known M. Michelet, who had been her professor of history : yet at the time she did so he had become noted for his violent opposition to the Government of Louis-Philippe, and for his extreme democratic opinions.

The Queen was a great letter-writer. Every day from that on which she quitted her family on her marriage, up to her fatal illness, she wrote to the Queen, her mother, and every day her mother wrote to her. Her Majesty composed her letters all at once; those of her royal parent were commenced in the morning and kept open till post-hour, her Majesty noting anything that occurred—sending, in fact, a sort of journal. After the Revolution of February, when for eight days it was not known what had become of the ex-King of the French and his Queen, the Queen of the Belgians suffered the most poignant anxiety, and this emotion had a most lamentable effect on the disease which had long been undermining her health. The death of her brother the Duke of Orleans, and of her sister the Princess Marie, had previously been terrible blows to her. She most tenderly loved both, and kept up a daily correspondence with the latter. On the death of the princess, the Queen, her mother, caused a notice of her to be printed for the family (only twelve copies were struck off) ; and this notice was made up chiefly from the letters of the two royal sisters. These letters are described as profoundly affecting, and the manner in which she spoke of the death of Madame Mallet, their governess is, in particular, indescribably touching. After the death of the princess, the Queen, in addition to the duily letter to her mother, wrote every day to some other member of her family. She also at the same time kept up a constant correspondence with Her Majesty Queen Victoria, the Duchess of Kent, and the Princess of Prussia. When absent from the King, her husband, for however short a period, she wrote to him almost every day—twice a day, even when both were in Belgium—and the King replied to every one of her letters.

The Queen has left behind her three children, Leopold, Duke of Brabant, and heir to the Crown, born April 9, 1835; Philippe, Count of Flanders, born March 24, 1837; and the Princess Marie Charlotte, born June 7, 1840. Her first born, Prince Louis-Philippe, died in early infancy.

The remains of this illustrious and amiable personage were on Thursday, the 17th Oct. interred in the cathedral church of Laaken. The Cardinal Archbishop of Malines and tbe clergy received the King at the entrance to the church. The King entered first, with Queen Amelie leaning on his arm. The King's sons, the Duc de Brabant and the Comte de Flandre, accompanied by the Princess Clementine, followed, and then came the Duc de Nemours, the Prince de Joinville, the Duc d'Aumale, and the Prince Augustus of Saxe Coburg Gotha. The Royal party was accompanied by the Duc de Cazes.

The Poetry of Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte

I did not know that the daughter of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette wrote poetry during her captivity. Here are some simple but poignant excerpts.

Compiègne, August 9, 1832: The Wedding of Leopold and Louise

Today is the anniversary of the first, and most important, of Belgian royal weddings: the nuptials of Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, first King of the Belgians, and Princess Louise-Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte-Isabelle d'Orléans, eldest daughter of Louis-Philippe, King of the French. The marriage was celebrated with great magnificence at the Château de Compiègne, on August 9, 1832, exactly two years to the day after the bride's parents, in the aftermath of the July Revolution, had ascended the French throne. Leopold and Louise had three wedding ceremonies: civil, Catholic and Protestant. Bride and groom left Compiègne a few days later, traveling to Laeken in triumph, amidst a sea of French and Belgian tricolor flags, acclaimed by Belgians eager to welcome their new Queen. 

Physically, morally, spiritually, Leopold and Louise presented a striking contrast. He was dark, she was fair. He was a seasoned, middle-aged soldier and statesman, a widower and an experienced lover, an ambitious man of the world, rather hardened by years, sorrows and disappointments; she, a shy, innocent, tender young girl, who had dreaded the idea of becoming Queen, weeping copiously at the thought of separation from her parents, brothers and sisters, the only loves she had ever known. He was a Lutheran, and, reputedly, a Freemason, she a devout and pious Catholic. 

Yet, by the standards of the time, their marriage proved a success. Despite her initial reluctance to marry Leopold, Louise gradually fell deeply in love with her husband. Although he never returned her passionate devotion, and felt free to seek romance elsewhere, Leopold did cherish Louise as a dear friend and a clever political ally. He was profoundly grieved by her untimely death in 1850. 

How striking to think that, without the union of Leopold and Louise, none of the future generations of the Belgian royal family would ever have existed! The marriage had great political significance in its own time, too. In 1831, France's traditional enemy, Great Britain, jealous of her sphere of influence in the Low Countries, had prevented Louise's brother, the Duc de Nemours, from accepting the Belgian throne. Fearing French influence and, potentially, annexation by France, Flemings were also alarmed by the prospect of an Orléans prince becoming their king. An Orléans princess as queen consort, however, was much less threatening. Thus, Louise brought her husband French support, consolidating Belgium's newly won, precarious independence, while maintaining the balance of power between Britain and France and peace between Flanders and Wallonia. 

Princess Elisabeth of Belgium

Here, we see HRH Princess Elisabeth of Belgium with her little sister, Princess Eleonore. Born October 25, 2001, Elisabeth Thérèse Marie Hélène is the eldest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Brabant, Prince Philippe and Princess Mathilde of Belgium. She was named after her great-great-grandmother, the talented and heroic Queen Elisabeth, consort of King Albert I. Due to the abolition of the Salic law in 1991, she is second in line to the throne after her father, heir of the reigning monarch, King Albert II. Thus, she takes precedence over her younger brothers, Gabriel and Emmanuel. When, (God willing!), she ascends the throne, Elisabeth will be Belgium's first Queen Regnant.

Although, as the heir of the Duke of Brabant, Elisabeth ought to have been titled "Count(ess) of Hainaut," the issue created political controversy (even before her birth), as the French "Hainaut" was not considered linguistically neutral. (In Dutch the county is "Henegouwen"). Due to the disputes, a royal decree (sadly, in my opinion) abolished the traditional title of the second-in-line to the throne. (I have to say I think it would have made more sense simply to use both Dutch and French versions of the title).

Since September, 2004, Princess Elisabeth has been studying (in Dutch) at the Sint Jan-Berchmans College in Brussels. It is the first time that a future Belgian monarch's education has begun in Dutch. The little girl has already been appearing at public functions, and a Belgian scientific base in Antarctica, inaugurated February 15, 2009, is named in her honor.

I wish this future Queen a happy, long life and reign.

Official website of Princess Elisabeth

More photos HERE.