Leopold-Ferdinand, Duc de Brabant, the only son and heir of King Leopold II of Belgium, was born on June 12, 1859, at the Palace of Laeken. His birth came after ten years of his parents' marriage and was celebrated with great joy by the Belgian nation. The child appeared physically robust at birth, with broad shoulders and a strong frame that promised good health and vigor. His upbringing was carefully structured under the supervision of two tutors, the Comte Vanderstraeten-Ponthoz and Lieutenant Donny. His daily routine was methodically balanced between academic studies and outdoor physical activity, including rides on his pony and walks in the park. He dined with his parents at luncheon each day, and his bedtime was fixed at eight in the evening. By all accounts, this was a happy, wholesome childhood, and until approximately ten months before his death, he showed no signs of illness. The first symptoms of sickness appeared following the suppression of a childhood ailment and gradually worsened, eventually developing into pericarditis, an inflammation of the membrane surrounding the heart. Initially resembling a severe cold with a persistent dry cough, the illness progressed to pallor, significant weight loss, and eventually severe dropsy, causing enormous swelling of the stomach and chest. His respiratory function deteriorated gravely, and his cough became almost unceasing. To ease his breathing, servants fanned him continuously through the night, and during the day he was taken on lengthy tours of the palace grounds in a small pony-carriage, sometimes for several hours, as fresh air provided his only relief. His devoted tutor Donny, newly married when the illness first appeared, never left the prince's side throughout the entire course of the illness, sleeping in the royal apartments at the child's insistence. The prince's attachment to Donny was extraordinary; he refused meals without him and demanded his constant presence. Despite fluctuating bulletins that gave the public alternating hope and despair, the king himself harbored little hope from the outset. He was visibly devastated, reduced in appearance to a shadow of himself, yet maintained an outward composure, pacing the gardens with dry eyes but a profoundly sorrowful expression. Each night he would rise and go barefoot to watch over his sleeping child. The prince, in turn, demonstrated remarkable selflessness during his illness, feigning sleep when his father approached so as not to cause him further distress with reports of his suffering. The child's character shone through numerous recorded incidents. At Christmas, after admiring the tree and gifts arranged for him, he had all the presents packed into a box and given to a physician to distribute among sick children in the hospital. He habitually shielded servants from punishment by accepting blame for their faults himself. He was adored by the royal household and demonstrated a generosity and nobility of spirit that suggested what kind of ruler he might have become. A temporary improvement in October briefly raised hopes, but these proved short-lived. By January the condition had become critical, and on the evening of January 21, 1869, the final crisis began. He died at twelve forty in the morning on January 22, drawing his last breath in a long sigh, having recognized no one in his final hours though he appeared to respond faintly to the voices of his parents, who never left his bedside. Present also were his tutors, physicians, the nursing Sisters of Charity who had tended him throughout, and members of the royal household. Following his death, the king and queen each embraced the small body before the king, wishing to spare the queen further anguish, led her gently away. The child was dressed in white and laid on his deathbed with a crown of white roses above his head, his favorite toys at his feet, and a small religious figure placed in his hand. He was not embalmed at the queen's insistence. His face was described as marble-pale and utterly peaceful, as though merely sleeping. Belgium went into profound national mourning. Black flags draped public buildings, shops and places of entertainment closed, bells tolled continuously, cannon fired at intervals from dawn, and an estimated forty thousand people traveled to Laeken to witness the funeral procession on January 25. The ceremony at the Church of Notre-Dame at Laeken was presided over by the Archbishop of Malines, attended by the diplomatic corps, military generals, government ministers, and provincial delegations. The church was elaborately hung in black, and the coffin, covered with a white pall bearing a golden cross and a wreath of white roses, rested on a velvet-draped pedestal. The king, visibly altered by grief and leaning on his brother the Comte de Flandre, followed the small coffin on foot. The prince's own pony, draped in crape and led by grooms, followed the hearse. The coffin was placed in the chapel adjacent to the vault containing the remains of King Leopold I, there to rest until a permanent vault in the new church at Laeken could receive all three. A second grand requiem mass was celebrated the following Wednesday at the church of Sainte-Gudule in Brussels. The nation mourned deeply, and the memory of the child's patient suffering, his generous spirit, and his brief, unclouded innocence left a lasting impression on all who had known or followed his short life.
By Florence Marryat · First published 1870 · Genre: Biography, Historical Fiction, Royal History