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!

Mourning Ring

Commissioned and worn by Queen Victoria in honor of her husband. I always think he looked very much like the Belgian Albert.

Diana, Grace and Astrid

This is quite a moving clip of Diana, Princess of Wales at the funeral of Princess Grace of Monaco. It is perhaps a little off topic, but I find it interesting to ponder the impact of the losses of Diana, Grace and Astrid of Belgium on their respective reigning families. Queen Astrid's death was probably the most devastating, since she left her children so young and her husband so politically vulnerable.

Mourning

Queen Elisabeth of Belgium as a widow.

Bereavement

A touching account by Lea Laurent of the family sorrows of Albert and Elisabeth prior to the First World War. (Some of the dates are a few days off, but that's a minor matter).

The year 1912 was for the Queen one of uninterrupted mourning. But her first great trial, the death of her father, had already befallen her at the end of 1909, and her husband's accession to the throne had obliged her to hide her sorrow with smiles, which only made it the more poignant.

The series of bereavements in 1912 began with the death of the Grand Duke of Luxembourg on the 28th February. He was uncle by marriage to the Queen, and the near neighbourhood of the two courts, added to family ties, had led to a close friendship.

On the 25th May, a telegram announced the death of Duchess Amélie of Urach, daughter of Duke Karl Theodor by his first wife. In spite of the great difference in age, the Queen had loved her step-sister tenderly, and during her holidays never failed to visit her at her castle of Lichtenstein in Würtemberg.

In the following month, on the 28th June, the Royal house of Bavaria lost little Prince Rudolf, aged three, the third son of Rupprecht and Princess Marie Gabrielle. The poor mother, who was in delicate health, never recovered from the blow.

For a short time there was a respite, and it seemed as if Death had grown weary; but soon other victims were claimed. Duke Franz Josef, the Queen's youngest brother, was cut off after a few days' illness, in the flower of his early manhood. This was a grievous loss to Elisabeth, whose family affection was exceedingly strong. Fears were again entertained for her health, but she bravely overcame her weakness. She attended the funeral and returned to Brussels, accompanied by her sister, Countess Törring. 

They endeavored to console each other, recalling memories of their childhood and of the dear ones who had been taken from them. They were together one autumn evening, perhaps contrasting their own evergreen forests with the changing colours of our northern woods, when the King came into the room. He was overcome with emotion and almost unable to speak. At last he told them of the sudden death, at Sorrento, of Princess Marie Gabrielle, without any warning that the end was so near. The two sisters fell weeping into each other's arms. 

The King went alone to Munich, for he would not allow the Queen's health to be injured by any possible agitation which it was possible to avoid.

But the cup of sorrow was not yet full. The following month the Countess of Flanders gave up her pure soul to God. She died on the 26th November in the arms of her son. In the death of this admirable woman the Queen lost a second mother who had always been to her a loving friend and a wise counsellor. The Countess of Flanders who, in a secondary position,  had succeeded in maintaining her dignity without provoking hurtful jealousies, had been the best of all guides for Princess Albert. And when Elisabeth was unable to take her children with her on her journeys, she confided them to her mother-in-law, knowing that in her keeping they would be as safe as in her own.

The grief of the King was intense, and at the funeral he was unable to control his emotion. The fact that he was habitually calm and imperturbable made this display of feeling all the more touching, and it was, moreover, an eloquent tribute to the lamented Princess. Among the hundreds of wreaths there was one composed of masses of orchids, from Albert and Elisabeth, "to our beloved mother."

A Tragic Anniversary

Gareth Russell eloquently describes the horrific massacre of the Romanovs.

Albert I, King of the Belgians, then grimly struggling through some of the darkest hours of World War I, was outraged by the execution of the Russian imperial family. He had long pitied Nicholas, but the news of the Tsar's murder roused the King to storms of indignation. According to biographer Charles d'Ydewalle, he raged: "Nothing could be held against him!" Albert was deeply troubled by the Russian Revolution, fearing the consequences for Belgium and Europe. Queen Elisabeth, for her part, while visiting King George V and Queen Mary, had the courage to reproach Great Britain, Belgium's foremost ally, for failing to save the Romanovs. By a strange coincidence, Elisabeth's grandson, the young King Baudouin I, would sadly ascend the Belgian throne, reluctantly replacing his revered father, King Leopold III, on the anniversary of the massacre, July 17, 1951.

Things Happen in Threes

Here is an article about three glamorous, charismatic women who died in automobile accidents; Queen Astrid of the Belgians, Princess Grace of Monaco and Diana, Princess of Wales. Although I have reservations about comparing Astrid with Diana, I still found the article interesting, especially as it notes the way Astrid has often been forgotten, while Grace and Diana are always remembered. With her Catholic faith, public decorum and dedication to duty and family, I would think Astrid had more in common with Grace.

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.

May 24-25, 1940: The Tragedy of Wijnendale

Today, we remember King Leopold III of the Belgians and his heroic but tragic refusal to accompany his government into exile in the last, desperate moments of the Belgian army's resistance to Hitler's onslaught. As is well known, the night before, in the Flemish castle of Wijnendale, where the King had established his headquarters, the four exhausted, harried Cabinet ministers, M. Pierlot, the Prime Minister, M. Spaak, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, General Dennis, the Minister of Defense, and M. Van der Poorten, the Minister of the Interior, who had been trying to convince the King to flee the country for days, made their final, futile appeal. Leopold insisted that his duty, as Commander-in-Chief, required him to remain with his army to the end. The ministers countered that his duty, as Head of State, transcended his duty as Commander-in-Chief. As Head of State, Leopold must avoid falling into the hands of the enemy at all costs. As King, however, Leopold firmly believed that he must remain with his people. In humanitarian terms, he was convinced that he could better assist the Belgians, during the rigors of a cruel occupation, by remaining in Belgium. Nothing could persuade him to flee. 

Please leave a comment to tell me whether you think the King made the right decision. I used to view it as absolutely correct, and hotly contested all suggestions that Leopold III should have departed into exile. Now I am not so sure. The King's motives were undeniably noble. He bravely risked life, limb and liberty to assist the Belgian army and people in their most terrible trial. Well aware that his decision to remain in Belgium during the Nazi occupation would place him in an endlessly difficult, complex and potentially compromising position, exposing him to the world's misunderstanding, scorn and derision, he bravely risked his reputation, too. Yet, since the King and the government must always act politically in concert, according to the Belgian constitution, the fracture between Leopold and his ministers created an anomalous, explosive situation, as emphasized in the recent RTBF documentary, Léopold III, mon père. The King's inviolability was threatened because his actions could no longer be covered by the government. Of course, Leopold realized that he could not act politically without his ministers; this is why he emphasized that his capitulation to the Germans on May 28, 1940, was a strictly military action. It is also why he had to refuse to reign under the Nazi occupation, insisting upon his status as a prisoner of war.

Nevertheless, the fateful parting of ways at Wijnendale set the stage for many disastrous controversies to come; the odious accusations of treason, leveled at the King by Pierlot and Spaak following the Belgian capitulation, further tensions and suspicions between monarch and ministers, over the next four years, despite an apparent reconciliation after Leopold was publicly vindicated by figures such as Cardinal van Roey and Admiral Keyes, the shattering rift sparked by the King's stern and unyielding memorandum to Pierlot, dated January 25, 1944, requiring a solemn apology for the ministers' accusations in 1940, and, finally, Leopold's dispute with the Allies over the validity of certain treaties, including agreements regarding shipments of Congolese uranium to the Americans to assist in the development of the atom bomb. The King contended that these treaties lacked validity, since they had been concluded without his signature, on the Belgian government's sole authority. In other words, the separation between Leopold and his ministers on May 25, 1940, initiated the chain of events known as the Royal Question, which shattered the King's reign and ultimately threatened to destroy the monarchy and cast Belgium into civil war. By remaining in Belgium, as his people's advocate during the Nazi occupation, Leopold III undoubtedly comforted and benefited the Belgians and saved lives through his humanitarian interventions. Yet, he also placed himself in an extremely delicate position, and, as it happened, imperilled the political structure of Belgium after the war. In Léopold III, mon père, his youngest daughter, and close, loving confidante, Princess Esmeralda, startled me by suggesting that her father might have been better advised to go into exile in London in 1940. She suggested that Leopold himself had been haunted by doubts, in later years, as to the wisdom of his decision at Wijnendale, and that he felt that the destiny of his entire reign had been played out in only a few hours, in that tragic castle. Yet, she added, it is hard to judge a decision taken at a moment of such tremendous physical and mental tension.

"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

The Tragedy of Albert II

Here is a very sad article from La Libre Belgique describing how King Albert II was basically bullied into signing Belgium's euthanasia bill in 2002. (The paper, however, presents it as a good thing). How far we have fallen...

Tragedy in Japan

All my sympathies, condolences and prayers are with the Imperial Family and people of Japan at this terrible time.

This Japanese disaster makes me even more impatient with the Belgian tempest-in-a-teapot that has been dragging on for so many months. While others are struggling with genuine tragedies, it is all the more ridiculous to fritter away one's time and energy on artificial problems and frivolous grievances.

Genocide in Rwanda

Elena Maria Vidal has a searing post about the horrific holocaust in Rwanda, a former Belgian mandate, in 1994.

I cannot resist sharing a story of Princess Lilian's kindness to a family of Rwandan refugees, told by Michel Verwilghen, professor of law at the Catholic University of Louvain, in Le mythe d'Argenteuil. Although his book is not a memoir, but a historical study of the domain of Argenteuil, Verwilghen departs, on this occasion, from his usual impersonal tone, to give a direct testimony of Lilian's generosity and tact. Shortly after the Rwandan genocide, he relates, he was invited to Argenteuil to settle some matter involving the Fondation Cardiologique Princesse Lilian. The conversation turned to the tragedy in the heart of Africa, a region which Lilian's late husband, King Leopold III, had visited and loved. Verwilghen told his hostess how several professors of law from Belgian universities had managed to rescue a Rwandan colleague and transport him to Belgium, with his wife and their four children, a few weeks after the beginning of the slaughter. Upon hearing that the parents were preparing to celebrate their eldest child's First Communion and Confirmation with a simple party, the princess took her cheque book out of her purse and handed it to her guest, asking him to fill a cheque for the unfortunate couple: "I would like to help them and make sure that their family party is beautiful, after what they have lived through there". Startled, the professor asked the princess what to write; she specified an ample sum. After filling the cheque as requested, Verwilghen returned it to Lilian to sign. As she did so, she graciously continued the conversation, as if to close the financial transaction discreetly. I am reminded of the description of Lilian de Réthy given by Madame Carton de Wiart, a lady-in-waiting of Queen Elisabeth: A true princess in the full sense of the term!

Leopold II and the Congo

Here are some pages from The Cambridge history of Africa: from 1870 to 1905 giving a well-balanced account of an inflammatory subject: the disastrous history of the Congo Free State, the unsavory colonial venture of the second King of the Belgians. Contrary to some versions, Leopold did initially have qualms upon hearing of crimes perpetrated against the Congolese. Tragically, however, he was then all too willing to be persuaded that these charges were calumnies. To quote:

All the principles of Congo policy were decided by the king. But in the implementation of these policies, the administration of the state often played its own game. This was particularly true of the domanial régime. Leopold's will was that the state should extract the maximum profit from its domain. But he was not very much concerned with the way this aim was reached. The system of outright exploitation of the native population which gave, as the figures of production show, such extraordinary results, was mainly devised by the administration, both in Brussels and in Africa. Leopold limited himself to noting that the yield was satisfactory. However when the first accusers rose up to denounce abuses in the treatment of the Africans, the king was deeply moved. From 1896 to 1900, as his private letters reveal, he passed through several periods of agony. 'We are condemned by civilized opinion', he wrote in September 1896. 'If there are abuses in the Congo, we must make them stop.' 'It is necessary to put down the horrible abuses', he repeated in January 1899. 'These horrors must end or I will retire from the Congo. I will not allow myself to be spattered with blood and mud.'

On the occasion of each of these crises of anger and disgust, the king reiterated strict orders: cruelty to the natives should be severely punished. The Congo administration just waited for the storm to pass. It had elaborated a system and stuck to it. Altering the system might weaken it. The lessening of pressure on the Africans would naturally bring about a reduction of revenue; and the administration was well aware that, if this occurred, it would have more than royal anger to face. In other words, the administration distinguished between the king's permanent and fundamental desire--to increase the output of the domain--and his occasional crises of conscience. It modelled its action on what was permanent and fundamental. All those linked with the régime, therefore, and desirous of exculpating themselves, tried to convince Leopold II that the accusations against the Congo were unjust or exaggerated and were made in great measure out of ill will. The attitude of Leopold who, unconsciously no doubt, was ready to be convinced, thus came to undergo profound modification; instead of being affected by the attacks, he began soon to react more and more violently against them. Whereas the king almost always dominated his entourage, it may be said that in this case he allowed himself to be dominated by it (pp. 320-321).

October 16, 1793: The Execution of Marie-Antoinette

Here is her beautiful last letter, addressed to her sister-in-law, Madame Elisabeth of France. Sadly, it never reached her.

16th October, 4.30 A.M.

It is to you, my sister, that I write for the last time. I have just been condemned, not to a shameful death, for such is only for criminals, but to go and rejoin your brother. Innocent like him, I hope to show the same firmness in my last moments. I am calm, as one is when one's conscience reproaches one with nothing. I feel profound sorrow in leaving my poor children: you know that I only lived for them and for you, my good and tender sister. You who out of love have sacrificed everything to be with us, in what a position do I leave you! I have learned from the proceedings at my trial that my daughter was separated from you. Alas! poor child; I do not venture to write to her; she would not receive my letter. I do not even know whether this will reach you. Do you receive my blessing for both of them. I hope that one day when they are older they may be able to rejoin you, and to enjoy to the full your tender care. Let them both think of the lesson which I have never ceased to impress upon them, that the principles and the exact performance of their duties are the chief foundation of life; and then mutual affection and confidence in one another will constitute its happiness. Let my daughter feel that at her age she ought always to aid her brother by the advice which her greater experience and her affection may inspire her to give him. And let my son in his turn render to his sister all the care and all the services which affection can inspire. Let them, in short, both feel that, in whatever positions they may be placed, they will never be truly happy but through their union. Let them follow our example. In our own misfortunes how much comfort has our affection for one another afforded us! And, in times of happiness, we have enjoyed that doubly from being able to share it with a friend; and where can one find friends more tender and more united than in one's own family? Let my son never forget the last words of his father, which I repeat emphatically; let him never seek to avenge our deaths.

A Condolence Letter

As Léopold III was himself no stranger to sorrow, it's interesting to see the delicate manner in which he consoled others who lost loved ones. Here is a condolence letter by the 75-year-old former King of the Belgians to a friend of Claudio Barbier, a renowned young Belgian alpinist who had been mysteriously killed climbing the cliffs of the Meuse. (The news must have given Léopold something of a chill, since his own father had been mysteriously killed climbing the cliffs of the Meuse.)

Domaine d'Argenteuil 

Waterloo, June 11, 1977.

Dear Monsieur Bourgeois,

I have just learned from the press of the accidental death of Claude Barbier.

This sad news has moved me all the more, as I personally knew this man, who was so particularly sympathetic.

It was enough for me to meet him once to retain the memory of a personality very endearing for his qualities of simplicity and integrity.

I can fully imagine what your pain must be at losing such a dear friend.

As for his inconsolable fiancée, I would like you to tell her how much I was moved by the message you were asked to give me. Please convey to her the expression of my deep sympathy and please tell her that, when time has been able to appease, a little, her great grief, I would be happy to meet with her and talk with her of the career of the man whom she mourns today.

Please believe, both you and your wife, dear Monsieur Bourgeois, in my most cordial remembrance.

(s) Léopold

Death of a Queen

Today marks the 75th anniversary of the tragic death of Astrid of Sweden (1905-1935), consort of the unluckiest of Belgian kings, Leopold III. Ironically, August 29, 1935 dawned bright and clear, promising an enjoyable alpine excursion to the royal couple. As Time reported:

For days it had been raining in Switzerland. Leopold of Belgium and Queen Astrid, vacationing in the Villa Haslihorn near Lucerne, sent their three small children back to Brussels. But next morning the sun came out hot and strong, with the promise of a fine day for a mountain climb, a sport of which Leopold was just as fond as his father. Hobnail boots, ropes and alpenstocks were piled into the back of the royal Packard touring car beside the chauffeur. In front Leopold took the wheel while Astrid sat beside him, holding a road map. They started down the lakeside road, keeping close to the curb because the pavement was slippery. In a second it was all over. Just before reaching Kussnacht, with the car rolling along at 50 m.p.h. Leopold turned his head to look at the road map. The right wheels of the car slipped through one of the 18-ft. openings in the concrete curb. For some 95 feet it careened along, the right wheels at times three feet lower than the left. Then it struck a young pear tree, swerved at right angles. The Queen and the chauffeur were thrown clear. The car rolled down the bank, caromed off another tree and into the shallow water of the lake.

With his hands sprained, his lower lip slashed and a rib fractured, King Leopold crawled from the car and over to the body of his wife. He could see that she was already dead, her skull fractured, her chest gashed with broken glass. Aides following in a second car rushed hastily back for an ambulance while King Leopold, dazed and bloody, stood looking down at his dead Queen.

Witnesses reported the devastated King crying "Astrid! Astrid!" and clasping his wife's body to his heart. Later, he would confide to the Queen's best friend, Anna Sparre: "My life is over." In a voice broken by sobs, he asked his secretary, Robert Capelle: "Why did the good God take her away from me? We were so happy!" The death of his father, King Albert I, while climbing the cliffs of Marche-les-Dames, only 18 months earlier, had plunged Belgium into deep mourning, and now all the sorrowful scenes would be repeated. For the second time, in a year and a half, the Belgian royal family had met tragedy in the mountains.

Every Driver's Worst Nightmare

An awful story, from the life of Albert I:

When Albert was returning by automobile to Brussels from Louvain in January [1921?] his vehicle knocked down two children in the village of Kesselds; a girl of five was killed outright and a boy of eight, seriously injured.

Albert, who was in the car, was greatly perturbed and carried the body of the little girl to her parents' cottage and sought to console them in their loss. He fetched two doctors to attend the injured boy. They had dashed out into the road from behind a truck which obscured the oncoming car and were under the wheels of the royal automobile before the driver saw them. (Wanda Larson, Elisabeth: A Biography: From Bavarian Princess to Queen of the Belgians, 1997, p. 87)

In a strange way, it almost seems a foreshadowing of the tragic accidents that would claim the lives of Albert himself, and his daughter-in-law, Astrid, in the not-so-distant future.

Suffering Souls

Poignant words from Princess Clementine, taken from a letter to her sister Stephanie after visiting their cousin, Leopold III, at Laeken, following Queen Astrid's death. Here is why I will NOT tolerate dismissive, smirking criticism of the King:

Léopold est splendide de résignation chrétienne, quoique totalement anéanti. En arpentant à ses côtés le vieux parc aimé, j'ai pu sonder la beauté de cette âme endolorie. Léopold est le digne fils d'Albert. On retrouve en lui cette noble fierté au sein du malheur. La vue des pauvres enfants fend le coeur. L'aînée est ahurie. Les petits pleurent en appelant leur mère. 

Leopold is splendid with Christian resignation, although totally devastated. As I walked, at his side, through the beloved old park, I was able to sound the beauty of this grieving soul. Leopold is the worthy son of Albert. There is that same noble pride in the bosom of misfortune. The sight of the poor children melts the heart. The eldest is stunned. The little ones weep, calling for their mother. (Clémentine, princesse Napoléon: 1872-1955, Dominique Paoli, 1992, p. 209) 

The Lost Queen

August 29, 2010 will mark the 75th anniversary of the tragic death of Queen Astrid. On this occasion, King Albert II will pay tribute to his mother at her memorial in Küssnacht. (I cannot help thinking it will be a very emotional moment for him!) I will be posting an article on the cult of Astrid in Belgium and Switzerland and the symbolism of the Küssnacht memorial. People really treated the lovely young Queen almost as a saint or a martyr!