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