January 18th, 1781

The party on the twelfth was most enjoyable, though both F- and T- were in attendance. They were tolerably pleasant to one another, and as always happens masks, and some shoes, were lost long before the end of the evening.

A loan from T- enabled me to keep abreast of my expenses, but unless Chateaugay sells soon I will need another solution. I have let it be known that I will be quitting Sully and most of it's staff and furnishings in a few months, ostensibly in preparation for the wedding in May. F- increasingly presses me to take up residence at his home in town, while his sister acts as chaperone, but I am cherishing the last of my independence while I have it. There is the question of where we will live once married, and I think that F- supposes it will be at his home in Franconville-aux-Bois, but I long to return to my quiet and beloved Saint Saturnin. We may, of course, split our time between them.

Olympe, Comtesse

Book review: Auvergne and Its People

Is it any wonder why I bought this book? With Olympe Countess of the entire province (at least titularly); for a province it was prior to the Revolution, I am intrigued by this lesser-known area of France. I should do a post about what Auvergne is really about, but that's for the future.

Written and published in 1911, I was fortunate enough to find an original copy with illustrations. I love old books, and I found that there were two ways to enjoy this one; as a description of the still very peasant-based society of this region, or as an early twentieth-century travelogue. Indeed it stopped me in my tracks at times to note that when the author talks about young men storming the beaches, even WWI had not yet begun and she means something quite different. 1911 was the year of the Mexican Revolution, the foundation of the Republic of China, and Italy's war with the still-existant Ottoman Empire. It was also the year of the first Monte Carlo automobile race, and whenever the author refers to her own trip by car she uses the term "automobile" and speaks of people coming out to see it as the English couple cruises thorough towns and up and down mountains.

This alone would make the book worth reading to my mind, but add to that the endless list of little towns, churches, and dormant volcanoes which sculpt the region and you have a good picture of the landscape and the scope of people's lives. Mrs. Gostling does assume that her reader knows at least some french and the annecdotes, poems, and saying which infuse the book gave me a mental workout that I appreciated (though some are translated where deemed appropriate).

Clearly the author knows a great deal about French history, for she references and explains many both famous and obscure incidents and characters throughout, but her real passion seems to be for the saints, churches, and religious legends of Auvergne, and they abound. In fact, I found myself putting down the book on more than one occasion when I felt I could not take another miraculous shepherdess, or curiously-carved, black, wooden Virgin adapted from pagan times. Still, I was glad that I stuck it out, because it was like a vacation back in time and to another place, with a guide who was full of interesting asides, humor, and apreciation for the natural beauty and culture that surrounded her.

Don't pick this book up expecting it to be free of tendentiousness either, Ms. Gostling has her own opinions about the historical characters she mentions, as well as of the nobility and the revolutionaries. At times she was almost condescending towards the lives of the Auvergnat people, but always she pulled up just short and I found myself continuing to like her company. I think that this book is best understood in its own historical context, but I would be interested to know if things have changed dramatically in the last 100 years. Wow, it' easy to forget how long it has really been.

Have you read this book? Have an opinion about it's content, author, or style? I'd love to hear from you!

January 5, 1781

My estate agent has been notified and Chateaugay should now be on the market, or very soon will be. In reality I ought to give up more of my estates, but I love my dear Saint Saturnin too much to sell it, Opme is where I was born, Maman would never forgive me for selling Lespinasse, and I need Portaberaud to be my seat in Riom. It would never do for the people of Auvergne's most prominent city to see me sell my estate there.

If Chateaugay sells quickly then all will be well, but if it takes some time then I do not know what I shall do. I was expecting some money from home, but instead this letter informing me that we have almost nothing has put me into a difficult situation, for I cannot pay my servants here.

A bookseller came to my Lever this morning with some selections that he thought I might like, and often I have patronized his shop so he is familiar with my tastes. Indeed I liked one of the books so well that I could not restrain myself from exclaiming over it, and could not then feign disinterest and avoid purchasing it. I'm afraid to admit that I accepted the selection, and then sent the man away with the promise that I would send a servant with payment later. This is a habit which I try never to indulge, though some I know do so regularly. It is a dangerous way to live without a sure income. I have not spoken to either Thierry or F- about matters, and having delayed in the selling of my jewelry I must do one or the other soon. The jewelry I think will go today or tomorrow, and I will send Marianne with it for the sake of my own shame.

There is little enough of other note. Thierry continues to toil away at the Ferme and tells me that he must away on business in a week, this time north to Calais, but does not expect to be gone long. Pauline's little Hercule is walking and I shall look forward to seeing him when I return to Auvergne in the Spring. The war in the American colonies continues with no end in sight, despite our brave Lafayette. Oh, and the Comte and Comtesse de Rochechouart have decided to hold a ball to celebrate the end of the Christmas season on the 12th. It will be a masquerade, though no one seems to keep masqued until the very end. I wonder if there is a way to re-make my old costume into something new, or if I should simply wear a nice gown.

Olympe, Comtesse

January 2nd, 1781

1780 drew to a close swiftly and without much rejoicing by myself. It was a troubled year and I pray that this one may be better, which is how I begin every year in truth. I was fortunate in that Christine came to visit and stayed a few days with me here at Sully. We ate and drank well and enjoyed all of the aesthetic pleasures that Paris affords. Her sister, lately married, is already expecting her first child, so she and I commiserated over our siblings' good fortunes.

No sooner had she departed than a letter arrived from my steward informing me that there is almost no money left to send unless I raise the rents of my tenants back in Auvergne. This I am most unwilling to do, but I must or else find a charge at court quickly, which is difficult to do without the money to purchase one. I could ask F-, but that I am even more unwilling to do. I feel myself slipping into his power already and a sizeable loan would only strengthen the impression. Of course I could ask Thierry, and he would give it to me if he were able, especially as I have done as much for him many times over the years, but I am not sure that he could do so, and he will stretch himself beyond his means to help me. I go tomorrow to sell some jewelry and see if that will be enough for now.

I have promised myself that this year I will be more frugal. I will sell l'Hotel de Sully in the spring and take a more modest house, perhaps outside of the city, in the autumn. I must sell at least one of my estates in Auvergne, but I dare not rid myself of Lespinasse whilst Maman lives, for it was her childhood home. Still, soon I think decisions must be made, and I will have to make excuses for not joining in many of the frivolities of my friends. It would be good to relieve myself of these debts before the wedding. I am determined, all shall be well.

Olympe, Comtesse

Favorite

The Waldegrave Sisters

(Someday when I commission a wig I'm going to use this portrait with its multiple views as the inspiration)

December 19th, 1780

Yesterday was my birthday, but I did not feel much like celebrating. I hosted no party this year, as I, in fact would like to draw as little attention to my age as possible. Somehow it feels as if there is an enormous difference between being twenty-nine and being thirty. Many of the girls that I went to school with have daughters almost of a marriagable age, and I myself am yet to be married. True, my marriage is planned for next year, but I wonder more and more if that was a wise decision; the Marquis de Franconville aux Bois I know now, is not the same as the F- who has been my friend all these years.

I received a note last week from T- which instructed me to dress nicely and be ready at 7 o'clock on the eighteenth and that he would bring a carriage for me. Duly I dressed last night and just before seven a hired carriage arrived with T- inside, who then took me to a private room at l'Hotel Le Meurice where a most sumptuous dinner awaited. I worried throughout the meal as to how much it had cost Thierry, but he forebade me from considering it.

From thence we took the carriage to the Palais-Royal for a special performance of Le Seigneur Beinfaisant. I find myself much more a follower of Gluck, but it was a fine french opera. I was surprised that Thierry was able to acquire tickets, but he said that one of his clients had offered an invitation, and knowing my fondness for opera he was happy to indulge.

After the opera we retired to his rooms and I returned alone to Sully shortly before dawn. A present from F- proved to be a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings, with a kind note saying that they would match my eyes, but it left me far colder than my evening with T-.

Olympe, Comtesse

December 6th, 1780

As I sit at home with a most aggravating head cold the only matter I have to recount is the news of Empress Maria Theresa's death. If tiding of this have not reached Christine in Sweden already then my letter, which I was in the midst of when the news came to me, will tell her so. Christine will be saddened for she has always admired the Empress greatly. I sometimes wish that I were as clever and independent of spirit as she, but we must not expect to share in all of those talents which make our friends of such interest to ourselves. One could be too self-sufficient.

An unexpected letter from Andre in Ferney informs me that he wishes to marry Miss Delacor and will ask for her hand imminently, and that he relies upon me to temper Maman's displeasure. I have already returned an answer of congratulations and agreed, but in my heart I am also against the match. Still, he has been living with her for over a year and so to not marry her would be a stain upon both of their characters. I am resigned to having her for a sister-in-law, but I doubt we shall ever be close and cordial. If he fears Maman's reaction he should perhaps be concerned for that of his father even more so, but that is not within my realm of interest.

I feel a little that my own wedding plans will be a little overshadowed by this favorite son, but then I cannot begrudge him his happiness.

Olympe, Comtesse