Tea at Trianon

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

Saturday, February 14, 2009

"A Certain Element of Dress"

The world has changed. How we now despise the little things which once added grace and charm to the natural order. I wonder~ is it because we have grown too sophisticated to worry about the details? Or perhaps we are not sophisticated enough....Under the Gables quotes from My Year 1955, reminiscing about some of the cultural transformations of the last half century:

One can see little bits here and there of the changing times. I am constantly amazed by the growing and changing things occurring here in 1955. Amongst the happy plastic people we always picture for this decade, we see the ruffling of the feathers of the great bird of change getting ready to take wing. I think, as many of you must feel, that with that flight was lost many honest and simple things which we, as humans, find ourselves longing for. Courtesy, trust, love of the fellow man, love of home and family even fashion and formality. I see that we, none of us, want to return to a time of segregation and distrust, but there is a certain element of dress which leads to courtesy and kindness that seems to be lacking from our modern world. Maybe I am just, as so many before me have, romanticizing the past, but I KNOW that when I make sure I look 'done' before leaving the house I get a different response from people (mostly positive) and that I, in turn, am more positive. With my increasing interest in my home as a place of comfort and style and my skills in the kitchen, I find myself wanting to know my neighbors and get involved in my community. To share these things. This is really something new to me. It somehow seems to be magically linked with these other things which can seem superficial: your wardrobe, your homes decor, your cooking skills.....

Happy St. Valentine's Day!

Here's a little history. (Via Lew Rockwell)

While the Greeting Card Association of America does admit that Valentine’s Day is second only to Christmas in the volume of cards sent (an estimated one billion valentines will be sent this year!), they refuse to take credit for the creation of the day itself. That honor goes to the Catholic Church, which, as it did on several occasions, decided to combine some existing pagan rituals with some newer Christian ones. Throw in a saint, a few miscellaneous legends and traditions, and, voilà! Valentine’s Day!

Drying Clothes on the Line

It saves power and money. (Via Lew Rockwell)

When clothes dryers account for at least 6% of the electricity used by U.S. households, is it any wonder that line-drying is coming back? In places where the practice is banned as an unsightly nuisance to neighbors, right-to-dry activists and blogging eco-moms are forming an alliance. Their cause: to reduce energy consumption and to call upon sunlight rather than bleach to get those whites even whiter.

"The Harvest" by Leprince

February 13 being the anniversary of the assassination of the Duc de Berry at the Opera, I thought it was interesting that I came across this painting which had belonged to his wife, Caroline of Naples. The description of the painting mentions the novel Madame Royale, saying:

In The Harvest, a dog runs over a bridge towards the harvesters, giving a sense of urgency to the toil which must be completed before the impending storm breaks. The dark grey clouds are rolling in fast and the family of workers are hurriedly stacking the hay bale from the horse cart. Here, Auguste Xavier Leprince has chosen to depict rural labourers as the backbone of France under the Bourbon dynasty. The landscape is rich and plentiful; in a reflection of the idyllic and industrious farmers there is a chicken and her chicks feeding below the cart.

The Harvest was previously owned by Marie-Caroline of Bourbon-Sicily, Duchess de Berry. The works of Leprince were particularly appreciated by Charles X and the Duchess de Berry (1798-1870); the latter had several paintings by the artist in her collection. Marie-Caroline of Bourbon-Sicily had married Charles-Ferdinand d’Artois, Duke de Berry and the future Charles X, who was an important patron of the arts with a vast collection of paintings. The Duke de Berry married the young Princess Marie-Caroline of Bourbon-Sicily in 1816, when she was just 18. In the four years from then, until the Duke’s assassination, the couple had two children: a daughter, Louise; and son Henri, who became Duke de Bordeaux, then Count de Chambord. A painting of the Duchess with her children, dated 1822 is illustrated here (see fig.1 in exhibition cat.). The Duke and Duchess acquired the old castle of Sully in August, 1818, though they spent summers at the Elysée Palace. On 13 February, 1820, the Duc de Berry was murdered, apparently stabbed by a madman, on the steps of the Paris Opera whilst helping his pregnant wife into a carriage. The particulars of the assassination are told in the novel Madame Royale by Elena Maria Vidal (Neumann Press, 2000).

Families Touched by Autism

From a perspective of faith, Heidi Saxton discusses the agony endured by many. Share

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Madame Sophie de France

Catherine Delors discusses yet another of Louis XVI's famous and annoying Aunts (although Madame Sophie was probably the most innocuous.) Share

Cosmic Events

I have never heard of the comet "Lulin" so this is all new to me, and quite interesting. Share

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Madame Royale in Old Age

In 1851, the year she died, the Duchesse d'Angoulême was visited at her villa in Frohsdorf, Austria by the Comte de Falloux. The Comte described the aged daughter of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette as follows:

Madame la Dauphine was, if I may express it, pathos in person. Sadness was imprinted on her features and revealed in her attitude; but, in the same degree, there shone about her an unalterable resignation, an unalterable gentleness. Even when the tones of her voice were brusque, which often happened, the kindness of her intention remained transparent. She liked to pass in review the Frenchmen she had known; she kept herself closely informed about their family events; she remembered the slightest details with rare fidelity: 'How Madame loves France!' I said to her one day. 'That is not surprising,' she replied. 'I take it from my parents.' At Frohsdorf she was seated nearly the whole day in the embrasure of a certain window. She had chosen this window because of its outlook on copses which reminded her a little of the garden of the Tuileries; and if a visitor wished to be agreeable to her, he remarked upon the resemblance.