Tea at Trianon: A Hungry History of the Houses of Parliament

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

Thursday, October 4, 2018

A Hungry History of the Houses of Parliament

From The Spectator:

Then your mind jumps to the coronation banquet of King James II in 1685, with thousands of dignitaries dining on patty pigeon, hogs tongues and sweet breads. Now your mind jumps further to January 23 1806 and you hear William Pitt the Younger declare on his deathbed the immortal last words, ‘I think I could eat one of Bellamy’s meat pies!’ – Bellamy being the deputy housekeeper of the House of Commons after whom the restaurant Bellamy’s in Parliament is named.

You then breathe in ash and soot and find yourself standing in the House of Commons just after the Great Fire of 1834, and all the debris is magically cleared away to be replaced by a new tea room, a smoking room, and kitchens ‘worse than being on board any Indian steamship’, as described by the manager of 1869 Mr Nicholes.

All at once you find yourself thrown into the 20th century, watching the grand opening of the Members’ Dining Room and Strangers’ Dining Room, both of which have large bay windows lit up by light refracting off the Thames. Now you’re sitting in a catering committee meeting, and its 1950, and the committee decides that ‘the cafeteria is unsatisfactory … the Strangers’ Bar uninviting … the tea room badly designed’ and that the House of Commons should be providing a ‘service … and not a business concern.’ (Read more.)