I have read, over the signature of a journalist, that even before his marriage the King declared that he would never accept any benefit from the Royal purse, and that his income, from whatever source it was derived, should not accrue for the benefit of his descendants.
This is an astounding story and is a pure invention. A king is a man like other men; the value of his position rests upon his qualifications. The King could have either ruined or enriched himself. He was a genius, and for this reason his daughters were able to be—and indeed were—deprived of a fortune which was partly theirs by right, and which was used for the development of a commercial enterprise by the colossal audacity of their father!
But why should the King have wished to disinherit his daughters and deprive them of his immense accumulation of wealth? The reason must be definitely stated.
The King had long wished that our fortunes (those of my sisters and myself) should be reduced to the minimum of what he considered convenient to assign to us, that is to say, much less than our needs required, because, after the death of our brother Leopold, he only saw in us impediments to his own ambition and he was tortured by the fact that he had no male descendant.
I alone noticed, during the years that followed the death of his son, that the King on various occasions behaved in a different manner towards the Queen; he was more amiable and was more frequently in her company. Having now become a woman I can understand the real reason for this!
Clémentine came into the world; her birth was preceded by many vain hopes, but when the longed-for child arrived it was once more a girl!
The King was furious and thenceforth refused to have anything to do with his admirable wife to whom God had refused a son. What a mystery of human tribulation!
As for the daughters born of the Royal union, they were merely accepted and tolerated, but the King's heart never softened towards them. At the same time we were not altogether excluded from his thoughts. The feelings of our father, so far as we were concerned, varied according to circumstances, and, notably in my own case, according to the various calumnies and intrigues. My sister Stéphanie also suffered in this way.
Both of us were married at an early age and, living as we did at a distance, we were deprived of the opportunity of constantly seeing the King, so naturally we could not pretend to be the subject of his constant remembrance. We therefore ran the risk of being easily maligned by the unscrupulous courtesans who had influence with the King and were in the pay of our enemies.
Clémentine was in a far better position. She received all the tenderness the King was inclined to bestow on the only one of his children who remained with him, one who showered on him a daughter's affection and who also upheld the traditions of the Royal House, a duty which, in the absence of the Queen, the daughter of such a mother was alone able to fulfil.