From the time the crisis set in, Prince Leopold-Ferdinand recognised no one, although his intelligence was not completely obscured; for when the king or queen spoke to him, he appeared to understand what they said, although it was impossible for him to respond, even by a gesture, to the loving words which were lavished upon him. He died, as so beloved a child should die, between his father and mother, who, during the last hours, never quitted his side. In his chamber at this time were Madame la Duchesse d’Ursel, mistress of the queen’s household; Monsieur le Comte Vanderstraeten-Ponthoz, maréchal of the palace; Monsieur Donny, the prince’s preceptor; MM. Henriette and Wimmer, the two Sœurs de Charité who had nursed him through his illness, and the two valets-de-chambre of the Duc de Brabant. All were silent, as, awe-stricken, they waited, in the midst of that calm night, to hear the rustling wings of the Angel of Death; and the peaceful solemnity of the last hour was undisturbed, save by the voice of the chaplain who recited the prayers for the dying. Monseigneur le Comte de Flandre, brother to the king, who had been summoned to the palace by the same despatch which had brought MM. Henriette and Wimmer, arrived there at half-past ten, and quitted Laeken again at midnight; he was not, therefore, present at the last moments of his nephew. It was the same with Monsieur Devaux, the king’s secretary, who retired at half-past nine to his own apartments.

When all was over, and life had finally quitted the poor little body which had suffered so much, the father and mother, one after another, strained the corpse in their arms, and covered it with kisses, until the king, desirous of sparing the queen so mournful a spectacle, led her by force from the couch where rested the inanimate remains of the sole heir to their crown. On the morning following his decease the body of the little prince was completely robed in white, and placed on the bed in the chamber where he had died, and which is next to that in which his grandfather, Leopold I., drew his last breath. A crown of white roses, fresh and pure as his own brief life, was placed on the pillar immediately above his head, and a little virgin, with several playthings with which he had essayed to wile away some of the weary hours of pain, were placed at the foot of his couch. An altar was improvised on a large chest of drawers, placed between two windows of his bedroom, where a crucifix hung in the midst of lighted candles, converting the chamber of death into a temporary chapel. Here the Sœurs de Charité watched the dead child through the night, as they had watched him for so many previous months.

The body of the little prince was not embalmed, as the queen steadfastly set her face against such a proceeding, but was interred in the same condition in which he had died. The corpse was not at all decomposed, but it was terribly thin. The face wore the pallor of marble, and was not at all swollen or otherwise disfigured. The child appeared to sleep, and so he did, although the sleep will be eternal. On the same day the following proclamation was placed on the walls of the capital:—

‘Aux Habitants de Bruxelles.

‘Concitoyens,—Le pays vient d’éprouver une perte immense. Le Prince Royal a succombé cette nuit au mal cruel qui menaçait depuis longtemps une existence si précieuse à tous les Belges. La population de Bruxelles, fidèle aux sentiments inaltérables qu’elle a voués à une dynastie bien-aimée pleurera longtemps le jeune Prince dont elle avait entouré le berçeau de tant d’amour et de si chères espérances.

‘Fait à l’Hôtel de Ville, le 22 Janvier, 1869.
‘Par le Collége, le Secrétaire, ‘Le Collége,
‘A. Lacomble. Jules Anspach.’

The following letter of condolence, addressed by the permanent deputation of the Provincial Council of Brabant, to their bereaved king and queen, appears to me so touchingly worded, that I give it in the original, fearful of spoiling by translating it:—

‘Sire, Madame,—Il a plu à la Providence de nous envoyer au milieu de nos prospérités, une bien douloureuse épreuve. Le Prince Royal est mort! ... mort avant d’avoir accompli sa dixième année!... Ce coup cruel, que nos vœux n’ont pu conjurer, nous frappe tous au cœur. Il ravit un fils à votre amour, à nous le jeune Prince promis à de hautes et si précieuses destinées. Dans une adversité si grande, nous le savons, toutes les paroles sont vaines. Il y a des afflictiones que rien ne console. Nous pouvons, du moins, mêler la tristesse de nos regrets à l’amertume des vôtres, et, associés à votre légitime douleur, souffrir et pleurer avec vous.

‘Oui, pleurons! Mais gardons une entière confiance dans l’avenir! Dieu n’a pas cessé de protéger la Belgique et la dynastie qui lui est inséparablement unie.

‘La députation permanente du Conseil Provincial du Brabant.’