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

April 25th, 1783

Though Mme Elizabeth will not be permitted to spend her nights at Montreuil there is much activity surrounding the transfer of her household goods to the estate, where she will likely spend most of her days. It was due to these activities that I was unable to attend the court presentations, which I had been pressed to do by my friends. Little did I realize that a surprise had been planned for me.

Undeterred by my failure to attend, Msrs. Menars and Poisson received permission to approach and speak with my mistress in her salon, and their conversation, held with her in low voices and glances in my direction, soon gave me to know that something was amiss. My mistress, appearing very sly and merry, gave a nod of assent and the two gentlemen left the room.

They were reintroduced but a few moments later and with them was announced a Marquis de Mercoeur, the title of which gave me some confusion. Mercoeur is a title long associated with certain lands in Auvergne, but which was rendered quite extinct until several years ago. Revived for the King's brother, Artois, as a duchy it was then exchanged for the richer Duchy of Poiteau. As various sovereigns and persons of consequence have assumed new identities when visiting Versailles, to escape the confines of ettiquette, I thought it might be something of a similar nature. This did not explain the curious connection with myself, however.

Immediately when the Marquis appeared all was explained and I could not do aught but stare frozen, though what I very much wished to do was to fly to him, for it was my own, dear, Thierry! The formal introductions were made, and somehow my mistress seemed to understand much because not only did she say to him "I think you know our Comtesse d'Auvergne," but she then suggested a turn in the gardens and left Thierry to accompany me.

The story he told me then will have to wait until another day, as I am summoned to dress Mme Elizabeth and cannot delay.

Olympe, Comtesse

April 22nd, 1783

It is for certain now that I will leave Sully, though I have grown so fond of it; and it seems that my mistress will have a new home as well! The King, having taken possession of my cousins' estate, Montreuil, upon their misfortune has gifted it to his sister in a most charming fashion. The Queen, walking in the gardens there with Mme Elizabeth, informed her that it was to be her home, whereupon Mme was delighted and grateful to all. She even took pains lest her joy should cause me discomfort, being related as I am to its' previous owners, but I soon put her at ease on that account.

I am persuaded by Messieurs Poisson and Menars to attend the court presentations, though I'm sure they will be insufferably tedious. Now that most of the treaty negotiations are complete there is far less amusement at Versailles, and yet there seem to be as many people as ever. There is hope, however, that when Mme goes to Saint Cloud for the summer months that I will be released to return to Auvergne. I have seldom hoped more fervently for anything, except the pleasure of my husband's company, of which I have been so long deprived.

Olympe, Comtesse

Trivia!

Was the question perhaps too easy? No one answered last week's trivia question, though the clue was in the picture.

"Which famous victim of the guillotine was described as the 'Ste Genvieve' of the royalists, and considered for sainthood herself?"

The answer is; Madame Elizabeth, sister of Louis XVI. Refusing to go into exile she saw it as her duty to remain by her brother's side through all of his misfortunes, and eventually followed him to the guillotine. Her insistence on keeping faith with her Catholic principles, and her desire to to encourage others even to the point of praying for them at the foot of the execution site, led to her consideration for sainthood. The people in charge of her execution group decided to enact one final cruelty by having her go last and watch all of the previous beheadings, but one by one those who preceded her stopped to ask her blessing before mounting the scaffold, and she herself walked to her death with immense poise; that is, until her fichu fell away. Madame Elizabeth said to the executioner, "For the love of your mother, cover me!"  Those became her final words.

For this week I ask:- The scientist, Emilie du Chatelet, is known as much for her relationship with Voltaire as she is for her work in the field of physics; but the famous couple once found themselves in a spot of trouble when in the middle of a card game he told Emilie that he suspected some of the other players of cheating. They didn't think anyone else would understand their conversation, as they were speaking what language, not much in use at the court of France?