Mourning a Prince

Again, I have to apologize for a long absence. This was not due to lack of interest in the Belgian royal family, but I have been very busy with studies and pro-life work. I will still be maintaining this blog, but it seems that I will have to post here less often than in previous years.

I find many of the old prayer cards commemorating deceased members of the Belgian royal family to be quite touching and sobering, as well as helpful in shedding light on traditional Belgian religious practices. Here are memorial cards to Prince Baudouin (1869-1891), the handsome, pious and gifted elder brother of King Albert I.

Netley Lucas, in Albert the Brave: King of the Belgians, captures the mood of the Belgians during the tragic family illness that so suddenly took the life of the heir to the throne. The shattering effect of the loss of his nephew upon the ostensibly cold, formidable and impervious King Leopold II is especially striking.

Towards the end of 1890, Prince Albert caught a bad cold, which developed quickly into a species of influenza. From the Prince the illness spread to his sister Princess Josephine, and from her to Princess Henriette, whose condition grew gradually worse until it was considered necessary to publish bulletins. The life of the Princess was for some days in danger. The anxiety of the Count and Countess was lightened by the manifestations of popular sympathy with which they were overwhelmed. The Palace of the Rue de la Regence was besieged with streams of callers of all ranks and classes, who begged for the latest news or brought gifts that, in the case of the poorer donors, were indicative of the very deep sympathy felt by everyone. 

The malady ran its course, but happily the constitution of the Princess, strengthened by the simple, wholesome life she had led, withstood the strain. Towards the middle of January, 1891, Princess Josephine was pronounced out of danger. But no sooner were her parents relieved of one anxiety than another arose. On January 17th, only a day after the hopeful report of the Princess had been published, Prince Baudouin was taken ill. He took the disease in a lighter form, and though his condition gave rise to anxiety, he was not at first so ill as had been his sister, and no bulletins were issued. He was indeed well enough to take a walk. Unhappily, the illness increased suddenly, and despite every precaution, Prince Baudouin developed pleuropneumonia. He grew steadily worse, after less than a week's illness, he passed away on January 23rd, 1891.  

Prince Baudouin was in his twenty-second year. It was stated that he would probably have married his cousin Princess Clementine. By a sad coincidence his death took place on the fiftieth anniversary of the death of King Leopold's only son. Queen Victoria and all the crowned heads of Europe hastened to express their condolence with the bereaved parents and King Leopold. Court mourning in Belgium was ordered for three months.  

The funeral took place on January 29th, amidst universal signs of sorrow. The service in St. Gudule was deeply pathetic. The coffin was followed by King Leopold who, said the representative of The Times, "was quite overcome by emotion and walked with halting steps, supported on his left by the Count of Flanders, who was himself weeping bitterly...The young Prince Albert, the sole surviving son of the Count of Flanders, who walked by his father, also betrayed profound grief."(pp. 29-30)

Above is a highly symbolic scene, featuring the Cross, flowers, dynastic heraldry, mourning ribbons and a drooping Belgian flag, with the words:

"The entire Nation weeps for the beloved prince whom cruel death has snatched from our hopes."

Here, Belgian Catholics are entreated to pray for the repose of the soul of their prince, while being reassured that he died with the benefit of the Sacraments of the Church. Pious thoughts are also offered:

"My kingdom is not of this world."

"It is the Lord who heals their broken hearts and binds their wounds."

"God will clothe him in a mantle of justice and place on his head a crown of glory."

"Merciful Jesus, give him eternal rest."

February 17, 1934: The Death of Albert I

Today is the anniversary of the tragic and untimely death of Albert I, King of the Belgians. According to official documents, a chance slip from a craggy precipice at Marche-les-Dames, during a solitary rock-climbing excursion on the afternoon of February 17, 1934, cut short the life of this beloved monarch, at the age of 58. In the depths of the night, after hours of desperate search, his weeping attendants found him by the light of torches, spread-eagled at the foot of the Cliff of the Gentle God of Pity, soaked in his blood, his skull fractured. By a cruel coincidence, the Sovereign who had led independent Belgium to her centenary, four years earlier, had died only ten months before celebrating his Silver Jubilee. 

Grief, shock and disbelief swept through the Royal Family, the country, and, indeed, the world. Widely loved and admired for his heroism during World War I, and graced with a modest, affable personality, Albert was deeply mourned far beyond the frontiers of his realm. Meanwhile, throughout Flanders and Wallonia, as in 1914, the carillons tolled out the tocsin. In Brussels, amidst the moving and imposing funeral ceremonies, the people, braving pouring rain and icy fog, filed past silently to pay their last respects to their dead King, lying in state in a candle-lit chapel of flowers in the Royal Palace."The top of the head was heavily bandaged," wrote the British ambassador, George Clerk, "but the features were extraordinarily composed and peaceful, and death had removed the traces of many years".  

On February 22, as the funeral cortège made its way from the palace to the Cathedral of St. Gudule to the Church of Our Lady of Laeken, vast, sombre crowds lined the route. Thousands knelt and prayed as the gun-carriage, bearing the King's coffin, passed by. "Au revoir, Albert," one old man was heard to whisper. After the Requiem Mass, celebrated by Cardinal van Roey, Archbishop of Malines, in the black-draped cathedral, Albert's body was conducted to the Church of Our Lady of Laeken, where the final Benediction took place. Then, to the strains of funeral music and the booming of artillery, the third King of the Belgians was laid to rest in the Royal Crypt. 

In a sermon to commemorate the Belgian dead of World War I, and the veterans who had passed away since the return of peace, the saintly Abbot of Orval, Dom Marie Albert van der Cruyssen, himself a war hero, and an intimate of King Albert, rendered a beautiful tribute to the deceased monarch: 

Ah, I cannot tell you all the good sentiments with which his heart was filled to overflowing, and which he poured out, in private, in confidences, which do not yet belong to the history of our time. But his public virtues can and must be known, those of the good father of a family, so attached to inculcating in his children integrity and self-sacrifice, those of the head of state, so concerned for justice and the happiness of all, and, above all, those of the great Christian who could tell himself each day: "I do not fear death, I am ready." If some were astonished, because, on the mask of the man who had died in such a tragic accident, there was such a peace, for, he was not - God is my witness, since I had the supreme consolation of giving, to this king and friend, the last blessing, before the lead coffin closed forever upon his august face - he was not, I say, disfigured, or disguised, he was great, calm, and beautiful in death, it is because he was great and beautiful in his life!

September 25, 1983: The Death of Leopold III

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.

August 29, 1935: The Death of Queen Astrid

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.

"Au revoir, ma bien-aimée, dans un monde meilleur, et alors pour l'éternité"

Below is a translation of a poignant letter by Dieudonné Lambrecht, a great hero of the Belgian resistance during World War I, who was executed by the Germans on April 18, 1916. Five days earlier, he had bid farewell to his wife with this beautiful and pious missive:

My dearest Jeanne  April 13, 1916

I was judged yesterday, and, although I do not know the decision of the jury, I have the impression that the death penalty, demanded by the public prosecutor, has been granted. I have always expected it, and I have never hoped except in God and in your appeals. A single chance of salvation, therefore, remains to me; that His Excellency von Bissing may pardon me. But, not wishing to put too much trust in that, and fearing not to have the time to bid farewell to all of you and to put my affairs in order, I am preparing myself from this day forward. This letter will only be sent to you if I face the firing squad. My beloved, is it necessary to tell you all the distress of my soul, when I think of our cruel separation? I would have so wished to consecrate myself to the happiness of my poor little Riette, who will be five months old tomorrow, to that of the devoted and loving companion whom I have loved for 17 years, and at whose side I would have wished to pass many days, to that of my poor parents, for whom I would have wished to make possible a happy and tranquil old age, for those who have always sacrificed themselves so for me. And God, whose designs are impenetrable, calls me to Him. May His holy will be done; He will protect all of you; I hope in His divine goodness. He will pardon me my past faults. He will make me enjoy the supreme happiness, and, close to Him, I will be able to watch over those who are dear to me, and to pray Him to fill you with His graces. He has accorded to me, from the first day, courage and resignation. He will accord it to you too. You will be very courageous and valiant, you will bow before his decree, you will pray to Him much for me. He gave us a daughter shortly before these events, it is so that you may attach yourself to her, so that your life may have a goal, noble among all, that of forming a soul. You will make of her, I am sure, a good Christian woman like her mother, simple and hard-working, like her. You will teach her well that life is not made of joys but of duties, and that true satisfaction and true happiness consists in fulfilling them. It is with a torn heart that I write to you, and it is impossible for me to find the words to express all the sentiments for you and for our child with which it overflows. Take refuge in prayer, and, may my death may be less painful for you, in thinking that it is for the Fatherland. After our Faith, this is the most sacred thing we have, and it is a great consolation to think that in offering her my blood, I do nothing but consecrate the little I have done for her, and that which so many others have done and will do yet. Oh! My adored one, accept this trial very valiantly, and draw from the sacraments, in this period of Easter, the strength necessary to pass these sad days. I entrust to you my parents; replace me at their side. It is a sacred debt I leave to you. I leave off and I cannot continue, the tears abound so in thinking of their atrocious suffering. I was everything to them, you know it, and I would have wanted to return to them a little of the immense affection that had for me. I was sometimes a bit gruff with them, but how superficial it was, and how much I loved them! They are too rare, you know, parents who, like them, are only happy in sacrificing themselves for their children; one could say they were too good, if, really, one could be too good. You know their situation, they need many consolations, with me gone, François at the front, also doing his duty, Marie a bit too young. Go to see them often; be their daughter, a loving daughter, and, upon you, [they will pour out (?)] the love they had for their Dieudonné. Search in your heart for what may be agreeable to them, you must replace me, that tells you the many duties to fulfill towards them. I will see from on High what you do for them, it will give me great joy, and God will bless you! Adieu, my beloved wife, until we meet in His presence. Life passes so swiftly, do not forget it, it only lasts a moment. We will see each other again in a better world. It is in moments like those through which I have just passed, that one appreciates well the inestimable good that Christian parents give their children, by giving them a Christian education and faith in God. Oh! What a comfort to think that if the Almighty strikes us with severity, it is only to reward better our submission to His decrees. It is only in Him that great sorrows, like ours, can find appeasement. He will give you all the happiness I ardently wish for you. Farewell, my Jeanne, I bless you, as well as our poor adored little one, who will not know the father who loves her so. To you my most intimate thoughts, to you both my most affectionate kisses, from him who was

Your Dieudonné

My devoted companion,

My letter finished, I have received the visit of the chaplain. Oh! May he permit me to call him my friend, the last I shall have known and loved. It is to him that I owe all the sweetening of my last moments. It is he who will have the painful duty to bring you the painful news, and to give you the first consolations. Pray often for him, that his mission may be fruitful here below. Together we wept, he will have seen my last tears, he will see yours, your first tears as a widow. He will bless you for me, and give you his holy benediction, in the name of his Master and Almighty Lord.

Farewell, my beloved, until we meet again, in a better world, and then for eternity.

Dieudonné

***

Ma Jeanne Chérie  13 avril 1916

J'ai été jugé hier, et quoique ne connaissant pas la décision du jury, j'ai l'impression que la peine capitale, demandée par l'avocat-général, a été accordée. Je m'y suis toujours attendu, et n'ai jamais espéré qu'en Dieu et dans vos démarches. Une seule chance de salut me reste donc; c'est que Son Excellence von Bissing me gracie. Mais, ne voulant pas trop me fier à cela, et craignant de ne pas avoir le temps de vous dire à tous adieu et de mettre en ordre mes affaires, je me prépare dés aujourd’hui. Cette lettre te sera remise que si je suis fusillé. Ma bien aimée, est-il besoin de te dire toute la détresse de mon âme, lorsque je pense à notre séparation cruelle? J'aurais tant voulu me consacrer à faire le bonheur de ma pauvre petite Riette, qui aura demain cinq mois, de la compagne dévouée et aimante que j'aime depuis dix-sept ans, et auprès de laquelle j'aurais voulu passer de longs jours, celui de mes pauvres parents, à qui j'aurais désiré faire une vieillesse heureuse et tranquille, eux qui se sont toujours dévoués pour moi.  Et dieu, dont les desseins sont impénétrables, me rappelle à Lui. Que sa sainte volonté soit faite; Il vous protégera tous; j'espère en sa divine bonté. Il me pardonnera mes fautes passées. Il me fera jouir du bonheur suprême, et, près de lui, je pourrai veiller sur les êtres qui me sont si chers, et le prier de vous combler de ses grâces. Il m'a accordé, depuis le premier jour, le courage et la résignation. Il vous l'accordera aussi. Tu seras bien courageuse et vaillante, tu t'inclineras devant son décret, tu Le prieras beaucoup pour moi. Il nous a donné une fille peu avant ces événements, c'est pour t'attacher à elle, pour que ta vie ait un but, noble entre tous, celui de former une âme. Tu en feras, j'en suis sûr, une bonne chrétienne comme sa mère, simple et travailleuse, comme elle. Tu lui apprendras bien que la vie n'est pas faite de joies mais de devoirs, et que la véritable satisfaction, et le vrai bonheur, consistent à les remplir. C'est le coeur déchiré que je t'écris, et il m'est impossible de trouver les mots pour exprimer tous les sentiments dont il déborde pour toi et notre enfant. Réfugie-toi dans la prière, et que ma mort te soit moins pénible, en pensant que c'est pour la Patrie. Après notre Foi, c'est ce que nous avons de plus sacré, et c'est une grande consolation de penser qu'en lui offrant mon sang, je ne fais que consacrer le peu que j'ai fait pour elle, et ce que tant d'autres ont fait et feront encore. Oh! Mon adorée, accepte bien vaillamment cette épreuve, et puise dans les sacrements, en cette période de Pâques, la force nécessaire pour passer ces tristes jours. Je te confie mes parents; remplace-moi auprès d'eux. C'est une dette sacrée que je te laisse. Je m'arrête et ne peux continuer, tant les larmes abondent en pensant à leur atroce douleur .J'étais tout pour eux, tu le sais, et j'aurais voulu leur rendre un peu de l'immense affection qu'ils avaient pour moi. J'étais parfois un peu rude avec eux, mais comme c'était superficiel, et combien je les aimais! Ils sont trop rares, vois-tu les parents qui, comme eux, ne sont heureux qu'en se sacrifiant entièrement à leurs enfants; on pourrait dire qu'ils étaient trop bons, si, réellement, on pouvait être trop bon. Tu connais leur situation, ils ont besoin de beaucoup de consolations; moi disparu, François au front, faisant lui aussi son devoir, Marie un peu trop jeune. Va souvent les voir; sois leur fille, une fille aimante, et sur toi, l'amour qu'ils avaient pour leur Dieudonné. Cherche dans ton coeur ce qui peut leur être agréable, tu dois me remplacer, c'est te dire les nombreux devoirs à remplir envers eux. Je verrai de Là-haut ce que tu feras pour eux, cela me donnera une grande joie, et dieu te bénira! Adieu, ma femme aimée, je te donne rendez-vous auprès de Lui. La vie passe si vite ici-bas, ne l'oublie pas, elle ne dure qu'un moment. Nous nous reverrons dans un monde meilleur. C'est dans des moments comme ceux que je viens de traverser, que l'on apprécie bien quel bien inestimable donnent à leurs enfants, les parents chrétiens, en leur donnant une instruction chrétienne et la foi en Dieu. Oh! Quel réconfort de penser que si le Tout - Puissant nous frappe avec rigueur, ce n'est que pour mieux récompenser notre soumission à ses décrets. Ce n'est qu'en Lui que de grandes douleurs, comme la nôtre, peuvent trouver un apaisement. Il vous donnera tout le bonheur que je vous souhaite ardemment. Au - revoir, ma Jeanne, je te bénis, ainsi que notre pauvre petite adorée, qui n'aura pas connu son père qui l'aime tant. A toi les plus intimes pensées, à toutes les deux les plus affectueux baisers de celui qui fut

Votre Dieudonné

Ma compagne dévouée,

Ma lettre terminée, j'ai reçu la visite de Monsieur l'aumônier. Oh! Qu’il me permette de l'appeler mon ami, le dernier que j'aurai connu et aimé. C'est à lui que je dois tout l'adoucissement de mes derniers moments. C'est lui qui aura le pénible devoir de t'apprendre la pénible nouvelle, et de te donner les premières consolations. Prie souvent pour lui, pour que sa mission soit féconde ici-bas. Ensemble nous avons pleuré, il aura vu mes dernières larmes, il verra les tiennes, tes premières de veuve. Il te bénira pour moi, et te donnera sa sainte bénédiction, au nom de son Maître et Seigneur Tout-Puissant.

Au revoir, ma bien-aimée, dans un monde meilleur, et alors pour l'éternité.

Dieudonné

Obituary of Princess Lilian

A touching tribute to this royal patroness of cardiology by the legendary Denton Cooley.

One morning during my visit, the Princess invited me to accompany her to a golf club to hit golf balls. She drove us to the club in a Lamborghini convertible—with an impressive ability and at racecar speed. She could hit golf balls better than most men, was accomplished with a shotgun in bird hunting, spoke 4 languages, and was a charming hostess. She was an impressive person.

I also spent leisure time with King Leopold. The King was attractive, well educated, and also an accomplished golfer. The day after hitting balls with Princess Liliane, I was the King's partner in a golf tournament. The course was located on the actual battlefield of Waterloo. Therefore, I had a personal walking tour of the battlefield with the King as my guide. Several chatêaus still existed on the adjacent hill where the commissioned officers of the English, Prussian, and French armies had been billeted. According to the King's description, the evening before the final battle, the officers—after having dinner, playing cards, and drinking brandy—were informed by an attendant that the battle would commence the following morning at 10:00 A.M. That would give the valets and servants time to groom and saddle the officers' horses, polish the officers' boots, and prepare their uniforms. They then mounted their horses and watched the battle from the hillside. At the time, I thought to myself, “How civilized!”

The Imitation of Christ

 Thomas à Kempis' spiritual classic is available online here. In Emile Cammaerts' biography of Albert I, it is mentioned that The Imitation of Christ was ever at his bedside. It sheds light on his inner life... Here is a sobering excerpt:

CHAPTER XXIII

Of meditation upon death

1.Very quickly will there be an end of thee here; take heed therefore how it will be with thee in another world.  To-day man is, and to-morrow he will be seen no more.  And being removed out of sight, quickly also he is out of mind.  O the dulness and hardness of man's heart, which thinketh only of the present, and looketh not forward to the future.  Thou oughtest in every deed and thought so to order thyself, as if thou wert to die this day. If thou hadst a good conscience thou wouldst not greatly fear death.  It were better for thee to watch against sin, than to fly from death.  If to-day thou art not ready, how shalt thou be ready to-morrow?  To-morrow is an uncertain day; and how knowest thou that thou shalt have a to-morrow?

2.What doth it profit to live long, when we amend so little? Ah!  long life doth not always amend, but often the more increaseth guilt.  Oh that we might spend a single day in this world as it ought to be spent!  Many there are who reckon the years since they were converted, and yet oftentimes how little is the fruit thereof.  If it is a fearful thing to die, it may be perchance a yet more fearful thing to live long.  Happy is the man who hath the hour of his death always before his eyes, and daily prepareth himself to die.  If thou hast ever seen one die, consider that thou also shalt pass away by the same road.

3. When it is morning reflect that it may be thou shalt not see the evening, and at eventide dare not to boast thyself of the morrow.  Always be thou prepared, and so live that death may never find thee unprepared.  Many die suddenly and unexpectedly. For at such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man cometh.(1) When that last hour shall come, thou wilt begin to think very differently of thy whole life past, and wilt mourn bitterly that thou hast been so negligent and slothful.

4. Happy and wise is he who now striveth to be such in life as he would fain be found in death!  For a perfect contempt of the world, a fervent desire to excel in virtue, the love of discipline, the painfulness of repentance, readiness to obey, denial of self, submission to any adversity for love of Christ; these are the things which shall give great confidence of a happy death.  Whilst thou art in health thou hast many opportunities of good works; but when thou art in sickness I know not how much thou wilt be able to do.  Few are made better by infirmity: even as they who wander much abroad seldom become holy.

5. Trust not thy friends and kinsfolk, nor put off the work of thy salvation to the future, for men will forget thee sooner than thou thinkest.  It is better for thee now to provide in time, and to send some good before thee, than to trust to the help of others.  If thou art not anxious for thyself now, who, thinkest thou, will be anxious for thee afterwards?  Now the time is most precious.  Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. But alas!  that thou spendest not well this time, wherein thou mightest lay up treasure which should profit thee everlastingly. The hour will come when thou shalt desire one day, yea, one hour, for amendment of life, and I know not whether thou shalt obtain.

6. Oh, dearly beloved, from what danger thou mightest free thyself, from what great fear, if only thou wouldst always live in fear, and in expectation of death!  Strive now to live in such wise that in the hour of death thou mayest rather rejoice than fear.  Learn now to die to the world, so shalt thou begin to live with Christ.  Learn now to contemn all earthly things, and then mayest thou freely go unto Christ.  Keep under thy body by penitence, and then shalt thou be able to have a sure confidence.

7. Ah, foolish one!  why thinkest thou that thou shalt live long, when thou art not sure of a single day?  How many have been deceived, and suddenly have been snatched away from the body! How many times hast thou heard how one was slain by the sword, another was drowned, another falling from on high broke his neck, another died at the table, another whilst at play! One died by fire, another by the sword, another by the pestilence, another by the robber.  Thus cometh death to all, and the life of men swiftly passeth away like a shadow.

8. Who will remember thee after thy death?  And who will entreat for thee?  Work, work now, oh dearly beloved, work all that thou canst.  For thou knowest not when thou shalt die, nor what shall happen unto thee after death.  While thou hast time, lay up for thyself undying riches.  Think of nought but of thy salvation; care only for the things of God.  Make to thyself friends, by venerating the saints of God and walking in their steps, that when thou failest, thou mayest be received into everlasting habitations.(2)

9. Keep thyself as a stranger and a pilgrim upon the earth, to whom the things of the world appertain not.  Keep thine heart free, and lifted up towards God, for here have we no continuing city.(3)  To Him direct thy daily prayers with crying and tears, that thy spirit may be found worthy to pass happily after death unto its Lord.  Amen.

(1) Matthew xxiv. 44.   (2) Luke xvi. 9.   (3) Hebrews xiii. 14.

Death of a Princess

On June 7, 2002, Princess Lilian of Belgium, born Mary Lilian Baels, widow of King Leopold III, died peacefully, after a long illness, at her home at Argenteuil, near Waterloo. One of her doctors, and close collaborators in the Princess Lilian Cardiological Foundation, Charles van Ypersele de Strihou, later testified:

During her long illness, the Princess never complained. Although aware of her prognosis, She nevertheless fought step by step with a courage that commanded the admiration of physicians and nurses. She kept her sense of humour, confronted the physicians with the limits of their art and obtained the best of their talents. She remained attached to life despite the hardship of illness and some moments of discouragement. A few weeks before her death, She confided gratefully that She had enjoyed her long, full life. (Charles van Ypersele de Strihou, "Princess Lilian: some personal recollections," in Proceedings of the Princess Lilian Cardiology Foundation Symposium to commemorate its Patron, HRH Princess Lilian of Belgium, "Cardiology and cardiovascular surgery at the onset of the XXIst century," Acta Cardiologica - An International Journal of Cardiology, suppl. to volume 59, 2004, p. 20, quoted by Michel Verwilghen in Le Mythe d'Argenteuil: demeure d'un couple royal, 2006, p. 39)

Verwilghen adds:

She who, during her life, had morally suffered so from the innumerable calumnies of which she was the victim, did not know the physical pains of the end of life. Some of her intimates said that Providence spared her a long and painful agony. As if she were falling asleep, she slipped, little by little, into unconsciousness, a few moments after the final auscultation. She ceased to breathe less than an hour later. Death came shortly before 1 pm, while Princess Lilian was surrounded only by her silent doctors and supported by her maid, whose sobs, restrained with difficulty, expressed her profound emotion.

The chatelaine of Argenteuil, who royally personified that marvelous corner of Belgium, transfigured by her talent, had left it, after living there for more than 41 years. Her mortal remains would rest there for eight days yet, before passing, for the last time, through the gates of the royal dwelling over which, at her suggestion, had been forged two "L's", interlaced and surmounted with a crown, monograms of Leopold and Lilian, evocative of their common destiny. (p. 40, translated from the French original)

Before her death, Lilian had the joy of becoming a grandmother twice, with the birth of Alexandra and Leopoldo to her youngest daughter, Marie-Esmeralda. It had been highly uncertain whether Lilian would ever have grandchildren, since Marie-Esmeralda married very late in life, and Alexandre and Marie-Christine, who had married earlier, never had children. But, at long last, Lilian had the consolation of knowing that the family she had founded with King Leopold would continue....Tragically, however, although she had hoped for a healing of the rift with her eldest daughter, Lilian died without ever being reconciled with Marie-Christine.

Death of Leopold I

On December 10, 1865, the first King of the Belgians, Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, died after a lingering illness. Although he had ruled a predominantly Catholic country for over 30 years, he remained firmly Protestant to the end. Charles d'Ydewalle, biographer of Leopold's grandson, King Albert I, gives a melancholy account of Leopold's passing:

The death-bed of Leopold I was a sad one, with something puritanical and cold about it. In his death agony, he called: "Charlotte...Charlotte..." but no one knew whether he was calling to his daughter, the Empress of Mexico, or to that first Charlotte of Claremont and those enchanted years whose happy memories once more unfolded before his darkening eyes.

"Do you regret the sins you have committed, Sire?" asked his daughter-in-law. He sighed heavily, and answered: "Yes..."

"In the name of the love you bear for the Queen's memory," went on the wife of Leopold II, "will you not be converted to her religion so that you may meet her again in Heaven?"

"Nein..." he whispered.

Thus died the first King of the Belgians.

The same day, the Monitor eulogized the deceased Sovereign, whose political and diplomatic abilities had secured Belgium's place among the independent nations of Europe and had won him the title "Nestor of Kings."

Brussels, December 10, 1865.

An immediate mourning is about to spread over Belgium.

The first of our kings, the founder of our national dynasty, his Majesty Leopold I, died this morning at the Palace of Laeken, at a quarter before twelve o'clock, surrounded by his august family, whose grief we will not attempt to portray.

History will tell what was the sovereign who, in the times of grave uncertainties, did not hesitate to respond to the wish of the nation, by coming to strengthen and fix its destinies ; who, during a reign of nearly thirty-five years, at an epoch so troubled as was ours, knew how to call to himself the love and veneration of the Belgian people, and to win the high esteem and respect of sovereign monarchs and peoples ; who, true to his solemn pledges, was minutely scrupulous in the observance of our constitutional compact, and in reward for this duty, so religiously fulfilled, and the services which he did not cease to render to the country, carries with him the gratitude of a whole nation united to bless his memory; who, finally, leaves to the august heir of the crown, with his great and noble example, a free, happy, and prosperous kingdom, which has acquired its place among the family of European nations.

Belgium will long weep the loss she has sustained ; she will ever preserve the remembrance of a King who was for her a devoted friend, a constant support; but her too just regrets will not cause her to forget her legitimate hopes.

The country does not die, and if on all sides is raised the doleful cry—

The King is dead! —

All Belgians, mastering their affliction, and rallying round the throne, will re-echo the shout

—Long live the King !

The Death of Queen Louise-Marie

On October 11, 1850, the first Queen of the Belgians, Louise-Marie of Orléans, died in Ostende. She was only 38 years old. Famous for her piety, tenderness, generosity, and charity, she was deeply mourned by her family and people. Although he did not share her Catholic faith, and had not, unfortunately, been a particularly faithful husband, King Leopold I sincerely mourned his consort and paid her this touching tribute: "Her death was saintly, like her life."

I came across this fervent eulogy of the Queen, dating from 1850, and wanted to share the moving account of her last hours:

...(L)a faiblesse de la Reine était devenue extrême: la fièvre l'exténuait avec une persistance désespérante, bien que sans sécousses violentes. Dans la journée du 10 Octobre, elle eut une longue défaillance, dans laquelle, dit-elle en se ranimant, elle avait cru mourir. Quelques paroles tombées de la bouche d'une de ses intimes amies, lui apprirent alors toute la gravité de sa situation. La Reine l'avait ignorée jusqu'alors: elle ne doutait pas qu'elle touchait déjà au terme de sa vie. Dieu, en la rappelant à lui, voulait lui épargner les angoisses de la mort...

Quelques inattendues que fussent pour elle, les paroles que Mad. d'Hulst venait de prononcer, loin d'altérer un seul instant l'admirable sérénité de son âme, elles ne contribuèrent qu'à élever avec une nouvelle ferveur, sa pensée vers le ciel. Elle exprima...le désir de s'unir une nouvelle fois, avec Dieu dans la sainte Eucharistie; de le recevoir, une dernière fois, dans son coeur - ce coeur si pur où Dieu n'avait jamais cessé de régner. Ce fut à 2 heures après-midi qu'en présence de sa famille en pleurs, elle reçut des mains du vénérable abbé Guelle, le pain mystérieux des esprits célèstes...

Le reste du jour n'amena aucun changement dans l'état de la malade: toujours le même abattement, toujours le même calme d'esprit, la même resignation à la volonté divine.

Instruite de l'affliction dont tous les Belges étaient pénétrés, la Reine voulut qu'on leur exprimât sa gratitude...et elle ajouta: "Si je dois mourir, que la nation conserve au roi toute son affection, car il en est bien digne: elle ne connaîtra jamais tout ce que le roi a fait pour la rendre heureuse et prospère: qu'elle rapporte son mon époux et sur mes enfants la part de sympathie qu'elle m'a vouée."

La nuit du 10 au 11 fut pour la famille un siècle d'indicibles angoisses: plus de doute, cette nuit devait clore la belle mission de la Reine sur la terre. Pour nous, le moment d'un deuil national, pour elle, celui d'une félicité sans fin approchait rapidement.

Les premiers lueurs de la journée du 11, vinrent enfin se mêler à la clarté funèbre des cierges bénis qui brûlaient dans son appartement. La Reine sentait que son heure était venue. Ranimant ses forces, elle consola ceux que sa mort prématurée faisait fondre en larmes; bénit ses enfants agénouillés au pied de son lit, les conjura de s'aimer comme elle les avait toujours aimés...exprima le désir d'être inhumée dans l'église de Laeken, où tant de fois elle avait uni ses prières à celles des fidèles qu'édifiait son pieux receuillement; pressa une dernière fois la main du roi; y deposa un dernier baiser; le conjura d'accorder une sollicitude paternelle aux pauvres dont elle avait été le refuge...

Et le morne silence qui planait depuis plusieurs jours sur la ville et le plage d'Ostende, fut tout-a-coup interrompu par le cri: la Reine est morte!

***

...The Queen's weakness had become extreme; her fever was desperate and exhausting, although without violent chills. On the 10th of October, she had a long crisis, during which, she said, as she recovered, she had thought she was dying. A few words from the lips of one of her intimate friends, acquainted her with the full gravity of her situation. The Queen had not, until now, realized it; she did not suspect she was already nearing the end of her life. God, in calling her to Himself, wished to spare her the anguish of death...

However unexpected, the words spoken by Mme. d'Hulst, far from altering, even for a moment, the admirable serenity of her soul, only contributed to raising her thoughts, with fresh fervor, to heaven. She expressed...the desire to be united, once more, with God in the Holy Eucharist, to receive Him, one last time, in her heart, that pure heart where God had never ceased to reign. It was at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, in the presence of her tearful family, that she received, at the hands of the venerable abbot Guelle, the mysterious Bread of the celestial spirits...

The rest of the day brought no change in the state of the patient: always the same exhaustion, always the same calmness of mind, the same resignation to the divine will.

When she was informed of the grief afflicting all the Belgians, the Queen desired that her gratitude be expressed to them... and she added: "If I die, the nation must preserve all its affection for the King, for he is well worthy of it; they will never know everything he has done to make them happy and prosperous. They must transfer, to my husband and my children, the share of sympathy they have expressed to me."

The night of the 10th to the 11th was, for her family, an age of unspeakable sufferings - no more doubt, this night must end the Queen's beautiful mission on earth. For us, a period of national mourning, for her, one of happiness without end, was rapidly approaching.

The first rays of dawn of the 11th mingled, at last, with the funereal brightness of the blessed candles burning in her apartment. The Queen felt that her hour had come. Summoning up her forces, she consoled those dissolving in tears at her premature death; she blessed her children, kneeling at the foot of her bed; charged them to love each other as she had always loved them...expressed the desire to be buried in the church of Laeken, where she had so often united her prayers with those of the faithful, who were edified by her devout meditation; pressed, for the last time, the King's hand, and gave it a last kiss; charged him to accord a paternal solicitude to the poor whose refuge she had been...

And the gloomy silence that had hung for several days over the town and beach of Ostende, was suddenly interrupted by the cry: the Queen is dead!

May she rest in peace. I am sure that the prayers of this lovely Queen, both in this life and in the next, have greatly aided Belgium and its royal family.