Tea at Trianon: Memories of Carlotta

John Wilson Croker on Marie-Antoinette

"We have followed the history of Marie Antoinette with the greatest diligence and scrupulosity. We have lived in those times. We have talked with some of her friends and some of her enemies; we have read, certainly not all, but hundreds of the libels written against her; and we have, in short, examined her life with– if we may be allowed to say so of ourselves– something of the accuracy of contemporaries, the diligence of inquirers, and the impartiality of historians, all combined; and we feel it our duty to declare, in as a solemn a manner as literature admits of, our well-matured opinion that every reproach against the morals of the queen was a gross calumny– that she was, as we have said, one of the purest of human beings."

~from History of the Guillotine by John Wilson Croker, 1844

Edmund Burke on Marie-Antoinette

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely there never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like a morning star full of life and splendor and joy. Oh, what a revolution....Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded...."

~Edmund Burke, October 1790

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Memories of Carlotta

The Queen of Italy remembers.

I remember aunt Carlotta very well. After the Emperor, in 1867, was killed by revolutionary Benito Juarez, she lived in Trieste for a while, at the Miramare Castle, then, at the beginning of the twentieth century, she returned to Belgium. During the last years of her life, she was practically secluded at the Bouchout Castle, for more than 20 years already. She was considered "the insane" by everyone. But I don't think she really was. Shortly before her death I went to visit her with my parents. She stared into space for a long time, her face haggard, her hair dishevelled: it seemed like she didn't notice anything of what was happening around her. But at some point my father and my mother, who were talking between themselves, couldn't remember the name of a recently-nominated minister. She interrupted them and gave them the new minister's personal details in a very detailed way. Then, as if she had noted my surprise, she told me: 'I'll teach you a secret: when you want to escape your past, pretend to be mad. No one will ever ask you indiscreet questions again..' (Read entire post.)