December 8th, 1786

Received a considerable shock this Thursday last when, who should show up on my doorstep, but the Chevalier. Evidently he did not take my lack of communication as intended to indicate that his presence was no longer wanted at Portaberaud, and came to visit, as was his original plan. Being that he was already there I could hardly turn him away into the cold night, so he was permitted to stay, which led to us engaging in a rather frank discussion. In truth it hearkened back to the kinds of talks we used to have when we first began this misadventurous romance. It meandered through topics, dear and distant; and we expressed the deepest fears of our hearts as well as our cherished dreams. He insists that his relationship with that actress is naught but a fond friendship and asked if I would wish him to abandon her as a friend; to which I responded that I should wish for him to abandon her as a potential lover. He said he already had, and swore again that nothing of that nature had passed between them. I for my part shall continue to monitor all correspondence I may find access to, and toward this end I have enlisted the aid of my maid, Marianne. 

The Chevalier is to remain on with us for some weeks, departing again for Paris and his father's house just before Christmas. During that time Marianne will assist me in locating any letters, diaries, or notes which are between he and the actress or any other woman who is not already known to me. Nor am I so foolish as to overlook anything which may be addressed to a false name, or a coded reference. I wish to trust, but I find it necessary that I should protect myself from future pain and embarrassment by taking the reigns now and ensuring that my trust is deserved. I will find ways and reasons of separating him from his room and belongings, and Marianne will, in the guise of her duties, search for anything which seems potentially suspicious. These she will bring to me, taking care to note their position so that they might be returned as if undisturbed, and I will explore their contents for signs that he is or has been false. 

Should no cause for concern be found, so much the better. If something of note is discovered, it will be all the proof needed to cast aside his hollow oaths and banish him from my company forthwith. I will then need never wonder if I have been hasty or unkind; and he will be unable to defend his actions as misunderstood rather than sordid as they will have been indeed. I do not like having to pursue this course of action, but I think it must be done. It is too easy for my gentle heart to be abused, I do owe it protection where I am able. 

-Olympe

Mantle Project Update 1

I've been promising to do this for a while, and we are so close to having this project done so it seems like the perfect time for an update. First of all, you may be wondering why it's taken this long to actually make significant progress on the mantle. The main reason is simply that the majority of the work is being done for me by my partner who does not live with me full time, so we can only really do most of the tasks when he's in town certain weekends. We also had to pause when it turned out that I didn't have as many tiles as I thought I did and had to order more and wait for them to come in. All that being said, we have made it to a great place now and the project is looking splendid!

It started with a plan for how the fireplace insert and mantle would need to be connected in order to create the right look while still allowing us to pull out the insert for maintenance or to unplug it if, for instance, it needed replaced. My idea, after watching some tutorials and checking out DIY blogs, was for a sort of U-shaped shell attached to the back of the mantle, with a platform for the insert to sit on, and a thin flat behind the mantle that the tiles would be attached to. My partner quickly chucked this idea (and my measurements) when he realized that there was all kinds of crazy woodwork shenanigans going on behind the 19th century mantle. The platform remained a good idea though, and once the tiles came in we were able to adhere them to the simple backing panel, though they are admittedly more uneven than desired. Perfection was never the goal, on the other hand. 

The insert came from Wayfair, and originally I picked up one that was too small. I was trying to keep things as economical as possible, but it showed up looking absolutely diminutive compared to the hulking mantle and had too much space on the sides, so in the end I went for the Gibbs Flat Electric Insert at 19.9" H x 28" W x 8.5" D, which I paid just under $300 for (it's now a bit higher so I'm glad I got it on sale when I did).

My main contribution to this project, other than the research and purchasing, has been the sanding, of which there has been a lot! As an antique this mantle was never going to be perfectly smooth and unscarred, which is perfectly okay because I love its history and character. That being said, I did want to repair some of the peeling areas of paint and get rid of residual plaster from old finishes. There were quite a few areas that needed work, as you can see from the photos. The duck egg blue is obviously not original, but it is one of the things I liked about the piece when I first saw it online, so that stays. I found an interior paint at a local retailer that was pretty close to the existing color, and bought my first electric sander just for this (again, I went for a cheap model because I wanted to make sure I wasn't overspending on something I might not use frequently). Of course some of the areas are flatter and more accessible than others so I also had to buy a small hand-sander for the tight places and after that it was just a lot of elbow grease, which I don't mind. The holes in the top of the mantle were where it was originally fixed to the wall, and will be re-used here before being puttied and painted (probably, we'll see how visible they end up being). In recent days the repainting has been my main task with this, as my partner has been back home for a few days.

No sooner had he put together the box and attached the tiled panel than I was dying to try it all out together just for a sense of the finished project, but he was still cursing the odd dimensions. Not only was there a lot of patching on the back of the mantle that supported weaker areas, but it was very uneven meaning that one side stood out further than the other although not visible from the front. There are also standard sizes for things today, like an average height for a fireplace mantle, and that wasn't really true 200 years ago, so standard cuts of woods weren't lining up easily. Bless his heart, he dealt with it, adding a lip to the edge that the mantle slots onto and carving off fractions of inches to ensure that it all lined up. I should take a moment to mention that in his daily work he is NOT a carpenter and that this is not a typical kind of project for him, so I am extremely grateful and I think he did admirably well. And that's where he left it as he headed home Monday morning...

Of course I couldn't resist dragging the parts together to see how it was all going to look, more or less. 

Stay tuned as we're planning to finish this project this coming weekend, just in time to hang some stockings!

For Your 18th Century Gifting

 

I hope all those who celebrate Thanksgiving have had a marvelous one, with or without company! In the United States the day after is pretty much an unofficial-official holiday for excessive expenditure, or a time to get hopping on those end-of-year gifts. Per the usual, mine have all been order and most are wrapped at this point because I find it less of a financial strain if I pick up gifts throughout the year instead of all at the end. But that just me. For those who might be inclined to get others (or themselves, no judgement here) a little 18th century something, here are a few suggestions. Bonus:- this fits in nicely with the Shop Small/ Support Small Businesses movement.

18th century cartridge box- A note of warning before you fall too much in love with this item; it ships from the UK and has a current expected delivery date of anywhere from December 8th-28th so keep that in mind if planning to gift this. That being said, what a delightful gift it would be! It comes in a variety of color options or even as undyed leather, and there's an available insert to keep bullets tidy for an additional fee. Pretty sure to wow the military reenactor on your list.

Brass Cannon Genuine 18th Century Toy- Then again, if what you want is the genuine article, this little toy will give a thrill to any collector or historian. Found originally in the river Thames in England, it now resides in the U.S. and ships closer to home if you are stateside. 

Forget-Me-Not Buckle- It's no secret that SignoftheGrayHorse is one of my favorite Etsy shops, and you may recall that a month or two ago I bought a stunning stomacher jewel from them. So I can't recommend highly enough that if you are looking for the kind of buckles that ubiquitously adorned all manner of 18th century clothing, you might consider these charming reproductions which come in a variety of finishes. If that weren't enough to tempt you, they were created in collaboration with the talented American Duchess, whose fantastic line of shoes these would look fabulous on.

Shallow Crown Straw Hat- Another pretty dependably great supplier is FashionableFrolick and as usual they provide accessories that don't just approximate the time period, but really help take it from referential to real. It's easy to find cheap, plain straw hats in any craft store, but for the wide tightly woven kind with shallow flat crowns that you see in the portraits, you really do need to seek out a supplier of historical styles. The great thing about these is that they come in multiple widths and two colors, and can be styled trimmed to your heart's content.

Hair Powder Dispenser- LilBits has over 54K sales, and it's no wonder because some of this stuff is hard to find and their reputation for quality is truly excellent. One of the most authentic looks you can achieve for the 18th century is the powdered wig or hairstyle, and this is not easy to achieve by, say, sitting on your kitchen floor trying to filter flour over your locks from a sieve. Cough, not that I would know, cough. This little gadget would make things considerably easier for you or your favorite reenactor/costumer. This costumer gives it two flour-covered thumbs up!

Colored Hair Powder- Need powder for your dispenser? The HarriedHedgehog has you covered! Better yet, you can get it in a selection of period-appropriate colors like yellow and pink (though you may need to scroll through more of their stock for other options). It's organic and vegan and ships quickly. What's not to like?

Sadly the spinning top toys seem to be sold out already, but if you search for similar terms, you will still be able to find nearly identical items to keep your little tots appropriately entertained at your next event, even if they're in full public view.

18th century embroidered pocket pattern- PennyRiver has you covered if you're in the market for a gift for that crafter in your life. Their pocket pattern is affordable, comes complete with embroidery instructions and a guide to basic stitches, and will allow you or your loved one to make something uniquely all their own. 

Brass Straight Pins- It's impossible to overstate the importance and necessity of pins to the Georgian wardrobe. Dresses closed with pins, trim was applied in places with trims, stomachers could be pinned to stays with pins and then dresses to the stomachers with pins. You can use modern pins, of course, but for that really stepped-back-in-time feeling you want to invest in authentic pins. At $8.25 for a 10-pack and free shipping, it's a pretty good deal. 

Custom 18th Century Style Drawing- For my money, one of my personal favorite options is the personalized portraits offered by EmArtProject, but if you do go this route you'd better hop to it because they naturally take 2-3 weeks to execute. Send a photo and have yourself or your Rococo aficionado friend immortalized in a totally unique sketch that captures them in their preferred style. Surely this idea is hard to beat.

Used any of these services? Have other 18th century gift ideas? I'm always interested to hear them so drop me a comment!

November 24th, 1786

I write, in very ill humor, from my home, Portaberaud, in quiet Riom. The Chevalier has pursued me with letters, though they have now seemed to cease. That would make me piqued enough, but Maman was to have visited with her husband, and has chosen instead to inform me that she will not now come until close to Christmas, at which time she is bringing, not one but, BOTH of my brothers as well as my sister-in-law. Inhospitable as I might sound, it is rather unfair. I am fond of my family (Maman's husband aside), but I had hoped for a kind of time with my mother, just the two of us, and near to my birthday as well. She had promised that we would paint together. Now that is not to be. Add to that the expense and trouble of hosting fully double the number of people, as well as the fact that they have no clear wish to depart quickly and may stay through the New Year, and I am quite put out! Not a one seems to have had the consideration to think of their hostess in making these arrangements, and I find myself infuriatingly the last to know when it will most impact my planning and household. 

On the advice of a friend, and much to the horror of the gardeners, I have taken to assaulting the last of the summer's roses with shears, and generally tidying the garden as a way to give vent to my many frustrations. We have enjoyed great shifts in weather of late, one day sunny and quite unseasonably warm, the next frosted and overcast. I am glad I brought away with me all manner of clothing, though Marianne will grumble at the sheer amount of packing. It is, after all, her job. 

Menars, in his single letter on the subject, says that there are always rumors about single young men in the city, which would seem to dismiss my not-unfounded suspicions of the Chevalier's infidelity; yet also comments that he would not be at all surprised should these prove to be more than unconsummated affections. In short, I have been a fool, in the eyes of all of Paris. And at my age, too!

I am finishing a bonnet by my own hand for my little god-daughter and will send it to Elizabeth in time for Christmas. Tomorrow I turn my attention to preparations for the entire family to descend upon me, but tonight I think I will rest with a book, some sewing, and the companionship of my sweet dog. Tomorrow perhaps my mood will be less foul.

-Olympe

For Your Chateau

 

I know, I still haven't posted that update on the fireplace mantle project, there were set-backs galore I'm afraid. In the meantime, the blue and white theme hasn't entirely disappeared as I continue to dream of having a themed Christmas tree one of these years. For reasons of frugality this will not be the year to do it, but a girl can hope. I might consider the decoupaged sand-dollar one for my parents though, who live at the beach and have no less than three or four Christmas trees every year. 

On the other hand, the lovely little chateau print won't break the bank and I have a back room that's slowly but surely being converted into a bit of a medieval-esque theme, so this would look very well on the wall in there, especially if I can find several similar ones. Or just get to work on that illuminated alphabet I've been telling myself I'll do someday.

Perhaps though, the best item this week is a book whose tile seems to evoke the general feeling of this uniquely problematic year; "The Battle of Life." I love the color for being so different from anything else I own in antique tomes and the cover illustration guarantees that it will likely never be squeezed away on a shelf. 

Next FYC, we'll look at some 18th-century themed gifts for you or the enthusiast in your life!

For Your 18th Century Wardrobe- Getting that fit

 

The world has always been obsessed with body image, our own and others around us. For a large chunk of history, this has meant constraining the female body especially to small waists that create emphasis on wide hips and large busts. Fertility ideals, if you will. But not every body has room for much constraint, some people are just built small. What do you do when you're a petite person and need to get the right fit for your historical clothing? 

Trust me, I know this difficulty all too well. I've tried the Uniquely You forms, which are okay, but don't stand up to heavy garments and long usage. I've bought young male forms and added padding for the chest, but the waist isn't really narrow enough so it throws the fit of the bodice off. I'd love to be able to just fit everything on my own actual body, but I lack a fitting partner to help me pin such things so I need a reliable body double form. 

Enter the customizable dress form patterns from Bootstrap fashion. This may be the last great hope of those who need a true double for hard-to-fit sizes, like, say, teeny tiny women with traditional curves and not androgynous waif proportions (which is what very small sizes often seem to assume). Most standard forms go down to maybe a 2, but some of us need more like a 0 or even XXS in the waist with a short torso. These patterns allow you to make all kinds of adjustments, spend less than $50 on it, and get a pattern in as quickly as a few minutes. 

This is my first time trying this, so we'll see how it goes, but I feel hopeful. Tried it yourself? I'd love to hear what your experience was like!

November 14th, 1786

 

The Chevalier and I have had a falling out, and I do not know if it may be repaired. I had thought, being in Paris together, that he and I might spend more time together, especially as I have been staying with him more nights than at my own hostess' home. The nights I have had, but the days have brought endless reasons why he must attend to others elsewhere. Even as I have sat embroidering a waistcoat for him, he has busied himself with writing letters locked away in his study. Being curious at the change in attentiveness I went into the study one day while he was out, supposedly on urgent business, and in one of the drawers of his desk found a series of letters from an actress- an actress!- named Charite. Doubtless that is not her real name, and I did wonder if it might be a tender epithet for some other person, but though their letters do not detail a romantic liaison, the tone of the writing is extremely warm, with him promising to do his utmost in pursuit of her good. I recall clearly the days when he used to write such things to me, but alas, they are far behind us. She referenced in one such letter a book which she had given him, and which he had brought with him to Saint Saturnin and taken great delight in reading. I now know from whence the delight truly came; not in the subject, but in the source. 

My heart is full sore and I have returned to Elizabeth's to pack my few things and travel tomorrow to Riom, probably for the duration of the season. The Chevalier denied all at first, and then admitted to feelings of warm regard beyond that of friendship, but insists no untoward actions have taken place. Pressed upon the subject of other near-dalliances, he admits to a further one with a woman whose name I even now forget who lives here in Paris. I shall never now feel safe in my affections for this man and have cried my heart to bursting when I had hoped to be done with tears at last. His odd indifference towards me at times is now fully explained, and my own fears confirmed. I should trust my instincts more.

I have acquainted Elizabeth of the events precipitating my departure and she is very sympathetic. She encourages me to break off all contact with the Chevalier, which seems good advice. I have written as well to the Comte de Menars for any news he may have heard of either of these affectionate friendships, as he is well-connected in social circles in Paris, but as of yet there is no word. I have informed him that my intent is to travel to Riom shortly, so he will likely respond to me there. The Chevalier had been invited to Portaberaud in a few weeks, but I should not think it likely that he will now come. I am not inclined to make him welcome in any case. He was to have met Maman there, but I suppose I will have to admit the reasons for his absence to her now.

-Olympe

Anatomy of an Incroyable

 

Les Incroyables By Carle Vernet

For Your Chateau- In Sapphire, Azure, and Peacock

 

Well, I enjoyed the last installment with all things green, so I thought we'd do it again in another shade. I had thought I had enough tiles for the mantle project, but it turns out that I either miscounted or I've mislaid one. Since I was looking for blue and white things anyhow, here's a selection of other great blue and white decor if you, like me, have such a scheme in your home. I'm seriously considering the Christmas ornaments, personally, since my tree is always put up in that room.

For Your Chateau- In Mint, Jade, Sage, and Emerald

 

See if you can guess the theme! I don't always decorate in blue and white, and increasingly I've been drawn to these kind of tones. Maybe it has something to do with getting out into the garden more during this seemingly-endless pandemic. Certainly as the days cool and the leaves change, my attention is turning back more to my interior spaces. What about you? Any projects on the horizon?

October 30th, 1786

Arrived in Paris and I have met my delightful goddaughter, sent a note to Mme Elisabeth whom I am hoping to visit while here, and corresponded with Maman about the Christmas plans in Riom. I've also taken the opportunity to reach out to several people in pursuit of the annuity which was promised me after Thierry's death and which, all these years later, I have still not received. I'm fatigued by the relentlessly necessary advocacy needed to accomplish anything at Versailles, and very much exasperated at the extent to which I always seem to be out of money. It is true that my father left my mother and myself in not particularly enriched circumstances upon his death, but my schooling was not as expensive as it might otherwise have been, and I do not think that Maman was particularly extravagant. Nor am I; but yet the coins do slip away fast, and faster still when in Paris where I am at present ensconced officially with Elizabeth Comtesse R- though she very knowingly expects me to spend the majority of my evenings at the Chevalier's residence. 

His home is pleasant, though somewhat old-fashioned for someone so aware of his image. This ceased to amaze me when I found out that the hotel was still owned by his father, who I gather is not keen to spend money on refurbishment. The Chevalier is all embarrassment and apologies on this account, I however keep telling him that it bothers me not a jot. Which it doesn't. I note that he is right and the home is a bit run-down in places and certainly demode, but it is comfortable nonetheless, and after all he doesn't do much in the way of entertaining at home. I suspect he'd like to do more.

Exhausted of late thanks to travel and the usual intrigue and the sheer force of will required to act in a manner expected by those who see me. The time allotted for widows to been seen grieving and in pain has long since expired, and I observe that there are few who, standing a room with a woman who has lost a much wished-for child, will have a care for her feelings upon the celebration of her friend's third healthy child. Some would call these wicked thoughts, and so they may be, but wickedness is human after all. They're only thoughts. 

I await a return missive from the Princess and hopefully an invitation to Montreuil where I know I can be happy for a few moments at least in her gracious presence. But it is late in the morning now, and I must finish dressing and breakfast with my hostess before attending to any other matters.

Olympe

The Uncrowned Queen Charlotte: The Tragic Tale of a Lost Princess

If you have ever had the pleasure of a visit to St. George's Chapel at Windsor Castle, then you have probably stood in awe over the grave of Henry VIII, or gaped at the memorial display to Prince Albert; but far and away the most evocative sculptural grave marker is that of Princess Charlotte, only daughter of George IV, the Prince Regent. You may be familiar with good old George's preference for his first wife, Maria Fitzherbert, a Catholic widow with whom he actually lived for a time. Unfortunately since his marriage wasn't approved by his father George III it was never technically valid, and Georgie boy was forced to wed his cousin, Caroline of Brunswick. Perhaps it was this unwelcome choice that made him loathe his new legal bride (although he would have many lovers and mistresses in his life), or maybe it was simply an unsuited pairing on both sides. Caroline didn't much like him either, certainly. What George did get out of it was an increased income, badly needed on account of his uncontrolled debts, and an heir. 

For duty is duty. Though the royal couple were, by some accounts, outright repulsed by each other and separated a mere few weeks after their wedding in April of 1795, George did admit that they had slept together a whopping three times. 9 months later, on January 7th 1796 Princess Charlotte Augusta was born to the mild disappointment of her father, who had hoped that she would be a boy, and the absolute delight of the British public who adored her from the start. 

Charlotte from the first represented a way for George to lash out at his unwanted wife, who was forbidden from seeing their daughter except for once a day in the company of the servants who cared for the girl. Undeterred, Caroline flouted this requirement by going out with the girl in her carriage, and George was frequently none the wiser since he himself had little to do with either of them. Caroline was likewise barred from having any say in the care and upbringing of their daughter, and she responded by moving out of the Prince's household and into one of her own. When invited back to spend one Christmas she flatly refused, fully knowing that a lack of proximity meant that the Prince of Wales was unlikely to have any further legitimate children while she lived. When George tried to divorce her via a very public, scandalous, and frankly hypocritical trial over her supposed liaisons with other men, he was met with disappointment when the jury found in her favor. 

Through all of this, Charlotte grew up a healthy and robust child, cheerful despite the fact that she lived entirely on her own in a household away from either of her parents. During the trial of her mother the two were not permitted to see each other at all, and the little princess, who was ten at the time, was much hurt when her mother pretended not to see her while walking in a public park, being under threat from George at the time. As she grew into her teenage years many contemporaries remarked upon her artless and easy manners, some calling them "undignified" while others found her lack of pretense or airs charming. Charlotte herself found that she identified with passionate but confined characters, and no surprise there. Her father's instructions for her behavior as she grew became ever stricter, so much so that they drew the disapproval of much of his sprawling extended family of siblings and his own parents who found ways of giving the princess some of the freedom she craved.

Eventually thoughts turned to Charlotte's own marriage, and one was very nearly arranged with the son of the Prince of Orange. George was very for the match, though not enthralled with the young man. Caroline, true to form, was against it and in this public opinion was with her as they urged the princess not to quit England for a foreign land, or to disappoint her mother. Aw. It may have been this helpful suggestion from the vox populi that gave Charlotte the idea to stage an end to the engagement by requiring her intended husband to allow her mother to live with them. He refused and the betrothal was broken off. Meanwhile Charlotte had set her gaze on a young officer,  Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, heir to Belgium. The Prince Regent's response to the breaking of the troth was typical of George, he sent orders that the princess be confined to her house and allowed to see no one except the Queen. The spirited Charlotte learned of these orders and straightaway rushed by cab to her mother's home where she was apprehended by members of the family and convinced to return home.

The event fired not only the public imagination, but the politicians of the time and several of the prince's own brothers. When the Duke of Sussex dared to broach the matter with him the two had a falling out and never spoke to each other after that. Meanwhile Caroline decided to leave for the continent for a while, an absence which her aggrieved daughter resigned herself to not realizing that the two would never see each other again. Though a real future with "Leo," as she referred to him, seemed unlikely given the Prince Regent's obstinate rejection of the match, Charlotte was determined and continued to berate her father with requests, both personal and formal until at last, following the final defeat of Napoleon, he agreed to summon Leopold to Britain. On March 14th, 1816 the engagement announcement was made, and on May 2nd they wed. 

The public was overjoyed and when they appeared after the honeymoon they were greeted with wild cheering and applause and singing of "God Save the King" showing what an important PR influence Charlotte had on the monarchy. As to the lady herself, those who had known her remarked that she was calmer now, and more in control of herself. She and her new husband gave each other pet names, but by August she had already suffered one miscarriage. The next pregnancy was not announced until April of the following year when Charlotte was farther along.

Concern for her and for the child were prominent on the minds of low and high-born alike. Betting shops took wagers on every aspect of the birth, and her doctors put Charlotte on a strict diet. Her main physician was one Sir Richard Croft, who was actually an accouchateur (from the French "to deliver" specific to childbirth) rather than a doctor. The decision to use this fashionable assistant rather than a medical professional was seen by some as a fatal mistake. Charlotte went into labor on November 3rd, but by the 5th was still unable to bring forth the baby. At 9pm that night a stillborn boy was finally delivered and Leopold, who had been by her side through it all, finally took to his own bed with the aid of an opiate. Later than evening when they tried to rouse him to see the fast-fading Charlotte he could not be woken and was unconscious when she died in the night. He would later write:-

"Two generations gone. Gone in a moment! I have felt for myself, but I have also felt for the Prince Regent. My Charlotte is gone from the country—it has lost her. She was a good, she was an admirable woman. None could know my Charlotte as I did know her! It was my study, my duty, to know her character, but it was my delight!"

The Prince Regent was devastated to the extent that he could not bear to attend his daughter's funeral. Princess Caroline collapsed at the news. The general public went into deep mourning and the country effectively shut for two weeks. Sir Richard Croft was blamed by many and would end up taking his own life. 

Several statues and plaques were erected to her memory, but none so moving as the one at Windsor where Charlotte was laid to rest with her infant son at her feet. Technically, the memorial is in what's called the Urswick Chapel, which is only one small part of the larger church structure, tucked into a back corner. It is impossible to miss though; the shrouded marble figure beneath the sheet giving way to the ascending figure of a young woman rapturously reaching for heaven attended by gentle angels. The memorial was constructed by subscription, meaning members of the public chipped in to contribute to its cost and creation, so beloved was this people's princess. She surely would have made a much-loved queen.

There is an interesting postscript, however, because it was in part due to this tragedy that England did get a much-revered Queen. Charlotte's death left no legitimate heir in the next generation of the royal family, prompting the youngest son of George III, the Prince Regent's brother, the Duke of Kent to propose to the widowed Leopold's sister; Victoria. They, of course, went on to have a single daughter of their own, later known as Britain's long-reigning Queen Victoria. 

For Your Chateau

 

Apologies for the drive-by post, but things have been a bit hectic of late. I should have some exciting news to share soon, as well as an actual informative post; but in the meantime enjoy this week's curated selection of some of my favorite Etsy finds for your chateau and French-inspired dreams. 

October 15th, 1786

There is exciting news! My very dear friend, Elizabeth de R-, writes that she is delivered of a daughter and wishes me to come to Paris to meet the child and stand as her Godmother! I am in raptures and the Chevalier laughs at me in good humor as I make plans for the trip and all of the gifts I wish to acquire or bring with me for the child. Second to having one's own, a godchild is best. Or perhaps a niece or nephew, as Maman and I are ever waiting for from Andre and his wife Sonya. My poor sister-in-law is plagued by some troubles and Andre, true to his nature, is in no hurry though he should be, as Sonya is not much younger than I. Time is slipping away from me in that matter. 

Emilie has been informed of our intention to return briefly to Paris before the weather turns and will, instead of journeying back alone, travel with us all the way. I've instructed my maid Marianne to go in search of some of my own long-stored baby things of which to make a present for my goddaughter, and she grumbles where she thinks I cannot hear her over this being added to her duties even as we prepare to travel again so soon. If I know Marianne, however,- and by now I do- she'll be relieved to return to Paris as she is always happier in the city than in the country. 

I've also decided to go with the Chevalier and Emilie into town today to buy some cloth to make linens and sundry other goods for the child. It is as if I have been waiting for this and am now dashing away full of renewed vigor and purpose. Oh, I very nearly forgot to mention that the child is named Cornelia. Not a surprise from Elizabeth and Comte Jules, but I cannot say it is a name which has much appeal to me. No matter, it will now be as dear to me as she is before I have even met her. 

-Olympe

For Your Chateau

 

I am almost done collecting all of the blue and white tiles that I will need for the mantle project, which is getting another round of sanding today since the paint and putting from its previous owner was flaking and uneven. Just one more tile, and the one featured in this week's picks is the one I am thinking I will purchase eventually.

I also did finally acquire that new bookcase I so desperately needed for the piles of books in my home. Oh there are still piles of books, despite the now four bookcases (it was five, but one collapsed last year), however now there are fewer piles and one very nice and convenient display in the sitting room. 

I've been familiar with the Sapphire and Sage supplier for many years, as I spent time as a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA), but I'm out of the game and was surprised to see this vendor crop up in my Etsy recs. I probably wouldn't be considering the ring shown, except that it is inspired by Queen Elizabeth I's own ring showing the portrait of her mother, Anne Boleyn. I have a former student with whom I remain very close and who has a deep and abiding affection for Tudor history, especially Anne Boleyn, so I may get this for her for Christmas. 

Sadly we have had to cancel our trip to London in December. Stupid Covid. Mayhaps I will give myself the Dicken's London book as a pick-me-up for that disappointment. It's not that expensive.

Last, but not least, I am trying to make some improvements to the dining room, though the majority of it will certainly have to wait until next year. In the meantime I thought I could at least get a nice tablecloth, and of course the finest would be in Irish linen. My mother bought something lovely and similar in Dublin many years ago when we were on holiday, but hers is round and my table is rectangular. My partner suggested recently that we might spend Thanksgiving at home together this year instead of going up to D.C. to his family, so a pleasing tablescape would be very timely.

October 7th, 1786

The chevalier has returned! I note that Emilie has crept out of her room more now that he is here, but he allays all of my fears by showing me great affection and preference. Even the dog seems to rejoice in seeing him again and spends as much time as she may be allowed curled up on his lap. He has also brought with him many delights from Paris; chocolate and silks, and a little silver clock that has figures which dance with the hours. I am at times overwhelmed by his generosity. Moreover I find him gentle with my servants, which is to be noted as I had observed on some occasions that he spoke harshly to his own, but I know not the temperament nor the history of those individuals. Perhaps it was warranted. 

I've informed him of my intent to winter in Riom at Portaberaud, and invited him to join me as well, but his demeanor suggests that he will prefer his own family even as his words do not deny my suit. Two nights hence we conversed on the subject of marriage, but each find the other shy to commit any great expectation to the match. I remain unsure of what I would say should he propose as I would expect that a young man such as he would be interested in the furtherance of his line, but he seems much more inclined to the furtherance of his wealth and entertainments. Paris is for him and this will always divide us. 

No news from Versailles on either the Treaty or from Mme Elisabeth who is, I gather, much engaged with the little princes and princesses at present. She has also been involved with the celebrations of the centenary of St. Cyr, of which I am likewise fond having been at school there myself. A small donation would not be amiss, were I not so concerned with financial needs for Saint Saturnin. The saints will, I'm sure, understand that the temporal being satisfied makes it easier to attend to the spiritual, but this thought is too like those of the chevalier and show his influence. I must work on being as much an influence for him.

-Olympe

Clever Quilting and Other Ingenious 18th Century Clothing Hacks

The upper classes may have been able to afford the nicest things in the finest materials, but even they at times found ways to be frugal with their attire. Take for example these quilted petticoats. They each exhibit signs of smart textile engineering through the additional fabric added as stripes. Petticoats like this, with their quilted material, would have been most popular in colder regions such as Sweden, England, and even the American colonies. The red one comes to us courtesy of Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia, and that orange band at the top no only lengthens the petticoat, but more to the point it provides a less bulky fabric that can be gathered to fit a small space like a corseted waist. If you try to sew a channel in quilted fabric you end up with something really thick that does not gather or pleated down smoothly. The other petticoat, with its wide white stripes on the yellow, is a way of extending a petticoat that otherwise would be too short so that the extending fabric becomes a feature rather than an eyesore. The quilting unifies the two areas so that they are taken as whole piece rather than cutting the figure.

It's also a nice contrast from the first image because it clearly shows the thick, difficult pleating that happens when this kind of fabric is gathered to a waistband. It's pretty bulky, comparatively-speaking. This one can be found at the Met in New York. I've known many reenactors to make their quilted petticoats out of old bedspreads, should you want to try it for yourself.

A slightly more hidden example of the ingenuity of our ancestors in this regard is in the interior linings of many a glorious sacque-backed gown (a.k.a. the robe a la francaise). One look at the inside of one of these beauties and you'll notice that not only does the lining not necessarily match the outer fabric at all, but that sometimes it is either taken from an earlier gown that is being cannibalized, or even many pieces from perhaps off-cuts of other projects. Piecing is period! For a truly wild and wonderful look at this in action you can head to the Met to see a French jacket of the last quarter of the 18th century (below) which has an abundance of different fabrics all used to make up one lining. I'd love to know if these were all from other garments in its owner's collection, or if they were cheap leftovers from the shop of the tailor or dressmaker who created it for the client. Personally, I think we should bring this idea back, for fashion, for sustainability, and for the good of all of our budgets!

For Your (Georgian) Wardrobe

 

I thought that this week, instead of focusing on items for your home, we'd shift to looking at some 18th-century appropriate items for your wardrobe. I used to have the beginnings of a fan collection, but found it an expensive hobby without much intrinsic use and was forced to abandon it in favor of more practical things. Like books, as evidenced by the new bookcase that arrives tomorrow. Still I can't help but put a few of these gorgeous examples on my wishlist for the day when I can be just that little bit frivolous again. 

Happily, not all of the purchasing I've done in the past has been for me, and we were originally scheduled to do an 18th century show this year at work. I spent two month of the summer working on it, only to have it Covid-cancelled. Sad panda. However, I had already ordered two absolutely stunning wigs from DecorumetBagatelle all the way from France. Someday we will do that show, and in the meantime they will be great examples for my students. 

September 28th, 1786

I fear my desire for my own company has been made clear to my guest, as Emilie begins to suggest that she will depart rather sooner than originally planned. It could, of course, also be due to the intended arrival of the Chevalier at the beginning of next month, or the changing weather which is always more keenly felt here than in Paris. In truth my hospitality may be somewhat lacking. I have not the means nor the local society in which to entertain in a fashion familiar to the residents of Versailles, so I may hardly blame them for preferring the town to the country. I myself am reveling in this peaceful solitude, which the Chevalier continues to assure me he will well-enjoy in my company, though I know him to enjoy society life far more than I. 

The re-pointing of the chateau may not be able to wait after all this winter, as water damage has made its way into one wall on the northern side. The gardeners are keen to point out as well that the slope on which we sit is falling away more by the road and will likely be damaged significantly should we have a bad winter. This reminds me that time is running short to decide where I will spend the winter this year, as I try not to travel much between the end of October and mid-April. I've come away to my most remote property, and would need to arrange suitable accommodations should I intend on spending the season in Paris, which there is hardly time to do so late now. I might beg of my dear friend Elizabeth Comtesse de R- for the use of her home for a few weeks, but I should hate to outstay my welcome by lingering too long. There's hardly any point in considering anything other than remaining sequestered here, or returning to Riom, or joining the society of Paris once more. I suspect that, knowing myself, I will tire of this seclusion in a month or two, and wish for some company again so I should begin to make plans for a return to my home at Portaberaud. 

In the meantime, I have a letter from the Chevalier to kindle my heart, and a guest to whom I really should pay more courtesy.

-Olympe

The 18th Century Toilette Versus the Toilet

There are just some subjects that we, as humans, seem to want to shy away from discussing. Often this leads to scant primary source materials and later generations asking "How did they, you know...utilize the facilities?" As a professor I get this question from students sometimes, especially when they look at the voluminous gowns of the 18th century and the structured panniers, and it's quite natural for them to be curious about how people back then handled the call of nature. All euphemisms aside, our ancestors obviously had no greater ability to manage their bladders than we do, and must have had ways of coping with challenging clothing, and the evidence does exist for just how they did it. 

Exhibit A comes to us courtesy of the 18th century fad for utilizing everyday subjects to depict people in states of undress for titillation. Boilly is one of the best artists for getting an idea of the intimate and every day lives of people. As with the image to the left, wherein he immortalizes a woman at her bidet, he also depicted the lower classes such as servants and peasants, and moments that we would otherwise have only artifacts for, and no clear example of their use. Note that the device shown is like a backwards chair, and has a removeable pot so she can wash her most intimate areas. Most upper class women at least would have had something like this in their bedchambers, as this was prior to the introduction of bathrooms as separate spaces.

There was an exhibition back in 2016 that I sadly did not hear about until much later, presented at the Marmottan Monet Museum and entitled "The Toilet, the Birth of the Intimate," or in its original French "La Toilette: La Naissance de L'Intime." This fairly comprehensive collection features works on bathing and rituals of cleanliness throughout early modern history, which is to say from the Medieval period on. Happily, many of the works can still be seen on the website of the Huffpost article about it, including this very typically Boucher oil painting.

Francois Boucher also gave us this little gem called La Jupe Relevee, (circa 1742) which means The Raised Skirt, and if you've ever taken ballet classes you've probably been instructed to "relever" yourself, i.e. to rise up on your toes. Appropriately, however, the woman being depicted is not only raising her skirts but in the process of relieving (very similar word in English) herself into the narrow porcelain jug she holds beneath her skirts and between her legs. It's actually shaped rather like a modern gravy boat, and many show similar little hook handles exactly so as to make them harder to drop. And do we have examples of these types of porcelain jugs from the period? Why yes we do! The name of this surprisingly pretty item is a Bourdaloue, and they could be used either in the privacy of one's own chamber, in a carriage over a long journey, or even as necessity called when visiting with friends (though one suspects a discreet screen would have been provided at the very least as well).

Note the lid to enclose unpleasant odors. While it may have been possible for a lady to utilize this device on her own as in Boucher's image, it would have been made much easier by having a maid relever her mistress' skirts for her, and then take the full container away to empty.

Many of you will be familiar with the French word Toilette as it is used to described a long, drawn out dressing ceremony which began with Louis XIV and then gradually trickled down through his nobles. I like to hold a mock one when teaching this time period with my students. The term is applied to dressing in general, so it's sometimes confusing for English-speakers, especially those, like my students, who think of toilets as being the same in use as a bourdaloue, but obviously the dressing ceremony and the modern word, have little in common- Not that there isn't still the possibility for humorous confusion of purpose! Many years ago my parents were at an antiques auction in England and bid on, and won, a very sturdily-built wooden chair. Bewildered by the elderly gentleman sitting upon it who bemusedly quipped "Mind if I finish using it first?" They later realized that the seat, covered by a cushion, raised to reveal an inset bowl. They had unknowingly purchased a rather discreet chamber pot, which they own to this day.

For Your Chateau

I will post a real post in a day or so, but it's been a crazy week and I am exhausted and emotionally drained after teaching each of my courses both in-person and online for those who prefer to stay as distant as possible in this era of Covid. The news is harrowing, and like many people I wonder what the shape of the future will be for both my theatre industry colleagues and my academic ones. I hope all of you out there are doing well. In the meantime, let's dream together about some beautiful textiles, garden features, and a tile option for the new mantle project (which I will have an update on soon).

September 20th, 1786

It's a cool afternoon here, at Saint Saturnin, and apart from the incessant barking of the dog who has spotted some deer, all is quiet and peaceful. My guest is resting, having been overcome by a terrible headache which caused her to excuse herself for most of the day. I had already begun to dress for dinner when I was informed that she would not be joining me, so here sit I having eaten much more finely attired than I would bother to be on my own, and I have directed that something be taken up to her. 

No word from the Chevalier, although I know I had informed him that we were to come away to Saint Saturnin. I am impatient for news, of him, of his affections, and of Versailles itself. Part of the chateau is in desperate need of repointing and the rain this winter will only damage it more if it is not done soon, but the money I was forced to pay upon leaving Versailles has rather limited my resources for such things at present. Hard as it is, it may just have to wait until Spring. 

There is a pageant play in the village tomorrow and if Emilie is well again then I shall suggest that we sneak down to see it. There is little enough other entertainment at the moment, but then I never do come away to this place in search of frivolity but rather to escape the world. It has served me well in this regard since I came into my majority. We may hunt some, it is the best season for it after all, though that has never been a favorite past time of mine the way it is for some. There will be cards, certainly, as we have been doing every day for the past few weeks. Walks in the gardens, though here they are not so grand as in Riom and the weather is cooler here by the day already. We might paint, in which case I must ask to have my paints found and brought out as it has been some time since I last used them here. I should think, in fact, that they will need entirely replaced. Ah, another expense. 

I cannot help but muse on the wisdom of the heart. The autumn has always made me introspective, but this year it does so greatly. My heart tells me such contradictory things; that I am cared for, perhaps even deeply, but also that this love is fleeting and not to be trusted. That I must trust in order to be met with trust in return, and also that I must take care and divest myself of feelings which will only harm me in times to come. I wonder how much this owes to the chevalier being so far away and for a time we know not how long to expect. I think of his expressions, sometimes cold, dismissive almost, but also of the great tenderness of which he is capable. Why pursue me if I am not truly wanted? Why so avidly flee my company unless I am not? I do not think Auvergne is to his liking, he has as much as said so already, but Paris is not always to mine. Perhaps my heart wishes me to understand that in love there may be much to overcome. I thought this a lesson I had well learned already. Perhaps it wishes me to understand that love may not overcome ourselves, however much we may hope to. I do not think I may count hope a friend in my life, it has betrayed me too many times. There are moments when I would as well I had no heart at all.

-Olympe

For Your Chateau- Textiles and Metal Decor

The ironic thing about this week's For Your Chateau is that some of the items are not actually available anymore. Just since taking this Etsy screen shot a few days ago several of the pieces shown have sold, like the Peter Rabbit book and the antique altar candlestick. Alas, the book was priced to sell, but the candlestick surprised me because it was a pretty penny, as we say. Just goes to show that if you love it, grab it!

Fortunately there are some lovely textiles with which to console myself, and what could be more quintessentially French than some Toile de Jouy...oops, that sold too. Well, here in the U.S. we just had Labor Day with its sales, and Etsy certainly was encouraging sellers to offer discounts, which obviously a lot of buyers found encouraging (myself included, see the previous post about the stomacher jewelry).

As much as I love books, I have put a moratorium on buying any more at present until I also buy some new bookshelves. My current ones are falling apart under the weight of the collection and I have literally piles of books in corners and stacked on tables. I'll just have to dream. On the bright side, that stomacher brooch should arrive today...

Stomacher Jewelry and Where to Get It

We're certainly all familiar with the style of stomacher decoration known as "Echelles" with it's ladder of bows running up and down the front of the bodice, but for a grander impression some wealthy ladies might choose to wear stunning jeweled pieces either with or instead of the fabric trimmings. The idea seems to have evolved out of the elaborate "parures" pinned to the court gowns of the Tudor era, and were further exemplified in the 17th century for formal or court costume, as seen in the portrait to the left of the Electress of Palatine from the 1690s-early 1700s.

Far from falling out of favor in the Georgian era, they only became more variable, with small jewels forming patterns on gown fronts or large motifs covering the majority of the stomacher insert. Frequently depicted are the massive, intricate single brooches pinned to the top of the stomacher and draping pendular pieces down the center where they would catch the light the most (and not coincidentally, I think, draw attention to the bosom). 

While we no longer tend to favor this kind of style, you can find similar pieces in glass and crystal in department stores and specialty shops. Occasionally you can even find them as "statement pieces" particularly during after-Christmas sales. One of the best ways to find a truly 18th-century style stomacher jewel, though, is to find a reenactment supplier who specializes in European accessories. I recently went ahead and purchased just such a one after staring at it on my wishlist for years. Pictured here, it came from an Etsy seller called Sign of the Gray Horse who has many such items including more of the same one should you want to acquire your own. Worn here as a choker centerpiece, it can be moved to wherever you like, the same as an historical example would have been. 

For other great options, including a range of colors you might consider those available from Rose Galante, also on Etsy. I know I'm lusting after this citrine-looking one, but shall resist at present. Of course, the good news is that increasingly you can find large jewelry-fittings in this kind of style available at craft stores like Michael's, where you only have to supply your own pin back, or sew to a choker or piece of lace to create a perfect 18th century accessory.

September 10th, 1786

The Chevalier and most of my guests departed this morning to return to Versailles. Tomorrow I and dear Emilie depart ourselves from Riom for the more rugged beauty of Saint-Saturnin, weather permitting. The skies this afternoon were cloudy, but the sun broke through here and there giving me hope for an untroubled journey. In truth I would not venture away at present as my soul welcomes the cool, gray, rainy days as kindred spirits and they are fine accompaniment to comfortable hours reading by the fire. I confess here and to no other that I was a bit disappointed that not all my company wished to return together, fond of Emilie though I am, but I have never been overly inclined to spend a great deal of time with other people. It is not in my nature. 

Still, it is kind of her to stay and I strongly suspect that she is under secret orders to remain and cheer me until the Chevalier can return. I cannot shake a, perhaps ridiculous, notion that she and and he are very familiar, and he certainly seems at least as fond of her as I am, nay, more so. She is younger, and I fully admit, prettier. Perhaps not so well read, but certainly less opinionated. She is full of good humor and has the merriest expressions to match, so much so that at times for my part I find her tiring. He does not. Instead he seems to find me tiring, and I cannot blame him much for that. Those who are cheerful will always be preferred to those who are sad. 

She is, like myself, a widow, and not without independent means. Unlike me, she has a young son who is being raised by his paternal grandfather in Paris at present. I wonder if she had not accompanied the party to Riom would so many have come? They did beg of her to come away with them, but as I said I suspect she was asked to remain. I dare say I think my voice finer, but the Chevalier did not comment upon it as I had thought he might when he heard me. My expectations do disappoint me rather more than his actions, so it is not fair to blame him for it. 

Tonight we dine simply and I hope will make a quiet evening of it, then early to retire while the household prepares for tomorrow. I used to feel more myself at Saint-Saturnin than anywhere else in the world, I hope it will prove true again. I cannot share my companions' enthusiasm for court at present.  I miss Thierry and wonder if it will ever not be so. Emilie seems untroubled by her losses, would that I could be more like her. 

Olympe

18th Century Textiles and the Eden Agreement

 

I'm a university professor and my specialty is in the area of Costume and Identity, which is heavily expressed through an interest in textiles and clothing of the past. I mentioned in the most recent Diary entry that there was a treaty being worked out between France and Great Britain primarily having to do with tariffs on items between the two countries. Our narrator may not have much faith in the treaty being worked out, but historically it was in September of 1786 and is know as the Eden Agreement. Both countries were suffering in the aftermath of the American Revolutionary War, England and France having lost colonies and suffered severe financial hits, with huge losses to Black Market profiteers. The idea was for each country to give preferential treatment in taxes and tariffs to goods from the other, so that more legal trade would occur and increase the pecuniary fortunes of their respective governments. 

Alcohol, particularly wines, were a big part of this, but also olive oil and fabrics and fibers like wool, cotton, and cambric, and French millinery. So the French were supposed to buy more English cottons instead of Indiennes manufactured in (you guessed it) India, and the English were supposed to buy more French hats. Did it work out that way? Not exactly. The Black Market trade was still cheaper than paying any tax at all, and public preference didn't necessary follow the official line either. 

It's a fascinating look at not only commercial interests, but cultural attitudes as well, since both countries recognized the potential mutual beneficence, and yet felt threatened by the others' goods whether they saw them as cheap industrial versions that had the potential to replace traditional handicraft (a fear ironically expressed from each to each), or simply wanted to maintain the weakness of their "arch enemy". In England the prominent Whig politician Charles James Fox felt that such a treaty would undermine the absolute duty of England to keep France in check in Europe; while his opponent, the Tory Prime Minister William Pitt the Younger, was of the opinion that there were no need for continued and "eternal" opposition between the countries when the treaty might re-stabilize both parties. 

Unfortunately it wasn't only the English politicians who had strong feelings about the results. While some English manufacturing organizations and guilds wrote and disbursed their support and dissentions respective of their trade, in France the reaction was downright violent in some areas, with textile manufacturers in Normandy and Bordeaux seeing rioting and destruction in response to the idea that it would lead to the loss of French jobs as cheaper British goods flooded the market. Nor were they entirely wrong, as textiles jobs did see a large downturn in the years immediately following the Treaty which, combined with a poor harvest in 1788, would all become part of the distress leading up to the French Revolution. 

For Your Chateau

 

In this week's installation of "For Your Chateau" we feature antique books and home decor and fine furnishings. These things are on my list in a confluence of past, present, and future. I'm a casual collector of antique books, in fact every time I go to London I pick up an antique book from Jarndyce booksellers across the street from the British Museum as my souvenir. I also decorate with a mix of antiques and antique-looking pieces as well as comfortable modern furnishings. I don't think I'll put the Louis XV chairs in my house at present, but they're a style I wouldn't mind owning for more formal spaces someday. The cabinet, on the other hand, is a much needed item that my dining room currently lacks, sadly all of my nice china and silver is in the confines of the guest room wardrobe until a proper cabinet can be acquired. 

The fire insert arrived just today to go inside of the mantle, which is still in the works, and it looks like I'll need a few more tiles to complete the filler detail between the  mantle and the insert, so one or two of these blue and white Delft-style tiles are going into the cart shortly. Don't worry, there are still some left if you'd like to get some too. 

I'll update with news of the mantle project hopefully soon. Until then happy shopping and happy weekend!

September 2nd, 1786

There are rumors that the trade negotiations between France and England may soon come to an end, though however devoutly that might be wished it must be remembered that this is a perennial rumor and therefore should receive no more credence than before. The war being past some years, one might expect that England would be glad to receive French goods and textiles once more on the open market, but I suspect (having heard it from some well-positioned to know) that the very negotiators have profited handsomely from the black market trading in those items. The recalcitrance of the English towards superior French goods bewilders me. Why would one wish for lesser materials when our craftsmen are demonstrably better and we have a longer history of producing them? Surely anything worth having is worth a fair price?

Received most unexpectedly from Mme Elisabeth the superb gift of a small miniature of her Royal Highness. She writes that she grows ever more attached to her new god-daughter, the Princess Sophie and sees much of her brother in the child. There is a small embroidery project that we had worked on together prior to the unfortunate events of recent years and she charmingly reminds me that it remains unfinished and that I must return in due course that we may complete it together. My heart is so gladdened by her kind rememberances, that I could almost miss Versailles. Here, however, the air is fresher and I do begin to think that it does my heart and soul good.

I was quite active yesterday, in a way which I have not been for some time, riding out with my small company of guests, and even singing in the evening. I had not sung in company in more than a year and was afraid that my voice should be quite gone, but it revived well enough. My riding coat was snug and it cannot be denied that I am no longer quite as small as I had been when it was first made, so I have sent into town for a new one to be made in a burgundy velvet with a matching jupe. Perhaps I shall have a new hat as well. 

It is time, I think to put this diary away, and to reply to Mme Elisabeth's affectionate letter with one of my own. The Chevalier is hunting this morning and so I have the house in quiet seclusion and can gather my thoughts without interruption. Even in matters of affection, one may sometime be glutted. 

-Olympe