Queen Astrid Church

The archives of the Catholic Herald contain a number of interesting articles on the Belgian monarchy, particularly King Leopold III and his family. Here is a brief mention of plans to build a Catholic church dedicated to St. Bridget in Brussels, in Swedish style, to honor the late Queen Astrid, a Catholic convert born a Princess of Sweden. The article is dated July 30, 1937. Does anyone know if the plans came to fruition?

Astrid vs. Lilian

The two wives of Leopold III are perennially compared, with Astrid usually being praised and Lilian blamed. (I once saw a really nasty comment on a royalty forum, to the effect that Leopold went from filet mignon to rat's meat!) Astrid was probably the most loved woman in Belgian history while Lilian was the most hated. But is there anyone here who prefers Lilian? If so, I would be interested to hear your reasons.

A Ball for Daphné

One of the grandest celebrations of Argenteuil's days of glory as a residence of King Leopold III and his second family was the ball given for his daughter, Princess Marie-Christine, in the summer of 1971. Born February 6, 1951, Marie-Christine, fondly known as "Daphné" since childhood, had grown up into a handsome, if willful, young woman and her parents decided it was time to launch her into society with a splendid coming-of-age party. Organized by her talented, forceful mother, Princess Lilian, it was to be the first ball in the history of Argenteuil. Family friction arose over the invitations; Daphné's brother, Prince Alexandre, had hoped to include certain members of his own circle, while Lilian preferred to give precedence to European nobility and families of foreign heads of state. As a result, Alexandre did not attend the party! Nevertheless, it was a glamorous affair, hosted outside, to accommodate twenty-five round dinner tables, under a big tent tastefully decorated with flowers. In attendance, among many other notables, was Princess Maria Gabriella of Savoy, Marie-Christine's cousin and a good friend of Leopold and Lilian. Meanwhile, Givenchy dresses set off the beauty of Daphné, her mother, and her younger sister Esméralda. Daphné wore a white gown adorned with hand-embroidered daisies. At table, she sat with a grandson and namesake of Charles de Gaulle. The ball continued all night, as Lilian danced with the Count of Paris and Leopold with his daughters. The festivities ended around sunrise with a traditional onion soup. (Le mythe d'Argenteuil, Michel Verwilghen, 2006, pp. 291-292).

The Cult of Queen Astrid

A description by Phyllis Jenkins of the Glasgow Herald, dated April 9, 1936, less than eight months after Queen Astrid's death in a car accident.

The Royal Palace itself expresses the sorrow of the people as well as the sorrow of their young king. Never in my life have I seen any building look so lifeless and sad as this enormous grey palace with its closed and sightless windows. Were the blinds always drawn that way or is it a normal protection against the early spring sun? I cannot say. But in any case the impression that emanates from this vast building is one of emptiness, desolation, as if the life and soul that once animated its rooms and galleries has fled, leaving a lifeless shell in place of a smiling palace. 

And then there is the evidence of the shop windows. Hardly a window display - whether it be of haberdashery, jewellery, or fancy cakes - but it has its framed portrait of the Queen, and in every house I have visited so far the Queen's portrait holds the place of honour.

I was told a charming tale the other day, and as its authenticity is vouched for it deserves retelling. A stranger mounts the front platform of one of the many tramcars, and from time to time asks information from the driver. What is the name of this church? What is the population of Brussels? Intrigued by the stranger's accent and questions, the driver finishes by asking the nationality of his passenger.

"Swedish," answers the stranger. 

"Ah! Then monsieur is from Her country!" Thereupon he stops his tram, opens the doors, and announces to the occupants that "Monsieur est Suédois." Everyone has his word to say on the qualities of the late Queen. But meanwhile the stationary tramcar is holding up the traffic and a policeman rudely asks the driver for an explanation. The driver leans out, and, indicating the stranger, explains that "Monsieur est Suédois." The policeman salutes and then, quietly to the driver, "Roulez, quand même," (Get a move on all the same).

While I am all in favor of the people's devotion to their kindhearted Queen, I hate the way the cult of Astrid was later used to vilify Leopold and his second wife.

Belgium and Leo XIII

In Leo XIII: A Light from Heaven (1961), Brother William J. Kiefer, S.M. discusses the time that Joachim Pecci, future Pope Leo XIII, spent as papal nuncio to Brussels. There he found Church and State in great ferment, and became the target of many calumnies, from both secular and ecclesiastical enemies. Nonetheless, he was able to do a great deal of good, particularly in the field of Catholic education. He won the regard not only of the devout Catholic queen, Louise d'Orléans, but also of her husband, Leopold I, a Protestant Freemason. In turn, Pecci developed a special, life-long attachment to Belgium. His social teachings as Pope must surely have influenced the Christian humanism of figures such as Albert I and Leopold III.

His mission nearly came to a tragic end before it had properly begun. On his way to Brussels, he went by way of Mechlin to visit Cardinal Sterckx, the archbishop. While crossing a canal bridge near Vilvorde the horses took fright and were about to plunge into the water when a priest of the neighborhood courageously seized them by the reins. Pecci refused to ride any further, but left the coach and walked all the way to the capital, where the king joked pleasantly with him about his accident and his coming into Brussels on foot.

The division among the religious and political parties of Belgium with their perpetual intrigues, rendered the post of nuncio to Belgium extremely delicate and difficult...Parties of all sorts, some anti-Catholic, came into being. The country became a hotbed of secret societies conspiring against the monarchical institutions of Europe.

The task was almost insurmountably difficult for any nuncio coming to Brussels, as can be gathered from a long letter Lambruschini wrote as a private instruction for Pecci in which he refers to the complete separation of Church and State. The Pope had already condemned the novelties and systems of Lamennais. Archbishop Pecci was to see that teachers were no longer under the influence of this man, whose errors had caused the bishops of Belgium to create the University of Louvain. At the time of the new nuncio's appointment, the bishops had a bill before the government asking for recognition of the university as a legally incorporated body. Pecci was instructed to see that the bill was withdrawn as the time was not propitious for it. There were constant conflicts between various parties, Church and state, prelates and laity. The parties were struggling for power, and this caused heated opinions and policies, even in other countries of Europe...

How the nuncio felt the weight of his responsibility in these circumstances is described in a letter he wrote to his brother Charles: "You will pardon me, dear brother, for devoting myself entirely to Belgium where the Lord's will has called me to fill an exalted office. Its duties and concerns are extremely delicate and difficult, as you may easily understand without my mentioning them. I ask you always to remember me in your prayers, so that the Lord may assist me with His holy grace. May the appeal of your heart ascend to God from the slopes of Mount Capreo, to win happiness for me and for Belgium." He prayed as if he expected everything from God; he acted as if success depended entirely on his own efforts.

Queens in Gardens

The King's Father-in-Law

Geoffrey Bocca gives a dramatic account of the reaction of Governor Baels to the news of Lilian's engagement to Leopold III, contradicting the usual assumption that the ambitious politician threw his daughter into the King's arms:

When Henri Baels heard about it he was furious and set himself completely against the match. Baels had spent most of his life in politics. He could see as neither the exhausted King nor his daughter, the trail of disaster, of calumny and misrepresentation the marriage would bring. He loved both his King and his daughter as only a profound monarchist and a father can. The people, Baels knew, would not see Leopold any more as a solitary hero tormented by doubt and patriotism, but as a man who put his happiness first and married a woman while the country was flat on its face with a German boot on its neck. His daughter, an innocent apolitical girl, was being condemned to an intolerable fate; she would be compared every day to Astrid, whose death had turned her memory into something legendary and almost holy. Baels argued day after day for ten days. Those ten nights he passed sleeplessly turning and often in tears. 

Seeing his arguments had made not even a dent in the couple's mind he yielded, but on conditions. One of the conditions was that the Dowager Queen Elisabeth must be present to give her approval and blessing, and the second was that Cardinal van Roey, the primate of Belgium and none other, was to perform the ceremony. These were the most eminent authorities that Baels could think of to muster at the time. He also insisted that Mme. Baels not be informed until afterwards. He knew that the shock to his sensitive and intelligent wife would be as great as it was to him, and he wished to tell her in his own way (Kings Without Thrones, 1959, pp. 40-41).

Young Marie-Henriette

Since I recently posted on Paola, here is the other Queen of the Belgians who suffered serious marital unhappiness. Unlike Paola, though, Marie-Henriette and her fearsome husband never had the opportunity to share love and reconciliation.

Dignity in Distress

In his study of European monarchy in the twentieth century, Geoffrey Bocca gives a good description of Princess Lilian's cheerful courage, which I think has been inherited in large measure by her daughter, Princess Esmeralda.

Through all her ordeal Liliane de Rethy behaved with dignity. A gay, gregarious person, she accepted without question the cloistered existence which her marriage imposed on her. It is a remarkable fact that from the time of her marriage to the ceremonies of the World Fair in 1958, in which she was pushed into the foreground by Baudouin, not two hundred Belgians had so much as set eyes on her. Hardly a score had heard her voice. She had appeared in public only once, at a birthday party for Queen Elisabeth in 1942. She laughed away the attacks on her and did not let even her husband see what distress she had suffered. (Kings Without Thrones, 1959, pp. 62-63)

Images of Queen Paola

Gem has a lovely pictorial essay on the Italian beauty who married the youngest son of Leopold and Astrid.