FrenchKate

August 28: Abbaye Saint-Sauveur in Figeac

In my virtual compostelle Saint-Jacques, I have reached Figeac, and, as is my custom, I began to scout the sites and history of the town.

Several things struck me.  

Figeac grew up around the Benedictine abbey of Saint-Sauveur founded by Pepin I of Aquitaine in 838.

According to a 19th century French historian, this abbey was built on the site of an earlier abbey. Vikings had destroyed this abbey and massacred sixty monks and refugees who had sought shelter in the church prior to 838AD. I am skeptical about this account. Its specificity gives me pause--sixty monks and refugees murdered by Vikings prior to 838--but I wonder how--if-- the Vikings could have gotten so far into the heart of France. In fact, why would they bother? Much richer pickings were more easily available. To reach the Abbey of Saint-Saveur in Figeac, the Vikings would have to travel up the Garonne (Toulouse was attacked in 844AD), then up the Lot, and then finally up the Célé. If I were in Figeac, I would try to learn more about this.

As I delved into google's resources on Viking raids in France to see what I could find from home, I came upon a surprisingly hot research controversy. An independent French historian--Joel Supery--argues that the Vikings had more extensive settlements in southwestern France than previously acknowledged. In fact, Supery points out that French scholarship has never researched the possibility of Viking settlements south of the Loire; for French historians, the Vikings settled in Normandy only. 

However, Supery noted that in Normandy, place names classified as Norman have Scandinavian names as their roots--Bjorn, Asgeir, Stein--with the Latin "ville" tacked on at the end. For example, the modern Benneville can be understood as the modern French form of Bjorn-ville, the lands of Bjorn. He applied the same logic to placenames that end in "-os." These placenames are found uniquely in southwestern France (or ancient Gascony,) and they have stumped linguists; maybe the names were Basque? Maybe Indo-European? Maybe a sign of resistance to the Roman occupiers? However, Supery pointed out that because French historians and linguists ignored the possibility of Scandinavian settlements south of the Loire, they never thought to examine at the possibility that "os" might indicate a word of Scandinavian origin. In particular, Supery observed that the Scandinavian parallel to "ville" is "hus." From "hus" to "os" is an easy jump.

When Supery looked at southwestern place-names ending in "os," he found that nearly 100% took the same form as the names that were identified as Norman: a Scandinavian name name plus "os" (rather than ville.) Thus, Bayonnes derived from "Bjorn-hus", the lands of Bjorn. 

The controversy arose because French academic historians did not take kindly to Supery's insight. They rejected Supery's basic argument--that the Vikings had more extensive settlements and trade routes in southwestern France than previously understood--and ridiculed his methodology and training. It was heated, but by 2018, evidently the credentialed academics were admitting that someone with the proper training should look at the possibility. 

The first photo shows the abbey church of Saint-Sauveur today. Like most churches in France, this one has sustained damage--of the original 12th century monastery, only the church and the chapter house remain--but unlike most, the damage was inflicted during the 16th century Wars of Religion rather than during the 19th century, post-revolution.

The second image is a map of Vikings activity from wikipedia. Figeac is nowhere on that map, but neither is Toulouse so the map is too general. Supery's argument is that the Vikings had settlements in southern France that would trade with Vikings in southern Italy, and looking at the map, you can see his point.

Feb 21: Three centuries at a glance

Sometimes one sees a jumble of eras. In Troyes I came across is a pair of heavy doors from--I think--the 17th century next to a 15th-century half-timbered building. Signs of modernity separate them. A drain pipe was installed sometime in the mid-20th century during a huge civil engineering project to bring running water and modern plumbing to these ancient buildings. The lopsided red-and-blue traffic sign signals to modern drivers that this is a "no parking" zone.

April 11: Update on Coronavirus in France

According to Wikipedia, as of April 11, France has 93,790 confirmed cases of Covid-19, 13,832 deaths, and 26,391 recoveries. That number is high because France began to count suspected cases and deaths in retirement home as of April 2 (unlike many countries)--a decision that added 30, 902 cases to the national tally. They had just--just!--1561 cases when I wrote about the pandemic in France a month ago, a sixty-fold increase. France now has the fifth largest number of cases in the world, after the USA, China, Spain and Italy.

Though the USA has nothing to boast about. The USA had 1100 cases a month ago, fewer than the French, but now we have 528, 301 cases, an increase of 480%.

A church gathering in late February in Mulhouse in northeastern France appears to have been been a significant factor in the spread of disease. Over 2,000 of the roughly 2,500 people who attended have contracted covid-19, but, they had returned to their homes unaware, and spread it throughout France. One nurse who attended the event launched a secondary cluster of 250 Strasbourg University Hospital employees. Five returnees brought coronavirus to French Guiana, and five others brought it to Corsica.

French President, Emmanuel Macron, announced the closing of all schools and universities on March 12. On March 13, the prime minister banned gatherings of more 100 people, and the following day, he closed all non-essential public places--restaurants, cafés, cinemas and nightclubs. On 16 March, President Macron announced mandatory home confinement for 15 days, a lockdown that has been extended to at least April 15. Fashion Week shows were cancelled, the football season was suspended, the Paris half-marathon scheduled for March 4 (with 44,000 participants) was cancelled, French cultural institutions--the Louvre, Centre George Pompidou, Musée d"Orsay, Versailles--closed on March 14. 

As of March 23, all residents are required to complete and carry legal documentation to leave their homes. While essential journeys are permitted--shopping for food, traveling for work, accessing healthcare and exercising within 1 km of their home--residents can be fined for non-essential journeys. 

These strict measures seem to be working, and I sincerely hope so. ICU admissions have been declining, and France seems to be stabilizing new cases, but the French already have lost .02% of their population, and that loss will grieve the country. If .02% of US population die of covid-19-- that would be 68,000 people. It is unthinkable.

Note: When I first posted this, I calculated that France had lost 2% of her population. But my math was wrong, and I realized my error overnight.  I have made corrections now.

April 1: Back to Liselotte's letter...

In 1701, Elizabeth Charlotte, Duchess d' Orléans wrote that gossipy letter to her half sister. 

"King William changes his favorites often; he has another, they say, in place of Albermale. It is not surprising that the queen, his wife, had no rivals during her lifetime. Those who have such tastes aren't picky about women. I have become so wise about this custom in France that I could write books about it."

The King William referred to here is William III, King of England and Prince of Orange, her second cousin. The "custom" she references is homosexuality. King William was suspected of fancying men to women. 

Elizabeth Charlotte was the second wife of Philippe, Duke d' Orléans, whose first wife--pretty, vivacious Henrietta of England--died when she was only 26 years old. Philippe was a notorious homosexual--extremely pretty and effeminate as a young man, he would attend balls in women's clothing, carried on open romantic affairs with German nobles despite being married, and promoted his favorites at court. One, Antoine Coiffier, the captain of Philippe's hunt, stayed in his household until Philippe's death in 1701.

So Liselotte probably could write books about this custom.

In any case, William III did seem to favor men though he was not as overt as Philippe d'Orléans in his fancies. The "Albermarle" whom Liselotte mentions was a Dutch nobleman, Arnold Joost van Keppel, (1669 - 1718.) His relationship with William III created the most contemporary comment. Twenty years younger than William, Keppel became William's page of Honor when Keppel was a teenager in the 1680s. By the 1690s, William was showering Keppel with honors and land. He became Groom of the Bedchamber and Master of the Robes in 1695, and was created Earl of Albemarle in 1697. The gifts and recognition continued after William's death; William III bequeathed him £200,000 and the lordship of Bredevoort.

Keppel married and had children. His son married a granddaughter of Charles II, and over the next three hundred years, their descendants continued to have roles in the royal households as advisors, royal attendants, soldiers, huntsmen, and lovers. In fact, both of Prince Charles's wives--Princess Diana and Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall--are descended from Arnold Joost van Keppel.

So that's striking.

Image 1 is Liselotte, Duchess d'Orléans, around 1700 when she wrote this letter.

Image 2 shows William III of Orange and Mary around the time they became co-rulers of England (c1685).

Image 3 is the pretty Arnold Joost van Keppel around 1700

 

March 22: FrenchKate in the time of Coronavirus

Thanks to the coronavirus pandemic, my husband, sister and I have been isolated since Friday, March 13. That's ten days ago.  

We decided to quarantine ourselves because the virus is spreading rapidly. Above all we want to avoid catching the virus; we are in a higher risk group. At the same time, we want to help "flatten the curve"--to keep infection rates low enough that medical staff, hospital beds and supplies remain available for those who do contract the disease. 

I haven't left the house at all; my husband went out to the grocery store once, but returned so shocked by empty shelves and general group anxiety that he hasn't ventured out again.  My sister has left three or four times on various errands--to pick up supplies, pick up dinner, drop off compost--that kind of thing. She also took a gift to the staff at the Willows, where our mother lives. We can't see mother--the building is under a complete lock-down to protect the vulnerable residents, but we are grateful to the staff. I figure I can begin to associate with others who have been staying away from the world once 14 days have passed (to confirm that I don't have the disease.) In the meantime, I have lots of time--in theory--to putter, read, write, exercise, practice French, practice the piano, chat with friends, cook and clean, organize. It is an introvert's holiday!

Not that I am doing all that much; I am mostly glued to my news sources from morning to bedtime. I read that Newton developed the theory of gravity when he was isolated during one plague, and Shakespeare wrote King Lear when in isolation during another. Talk about raising the stakes high!

In mid-February, before all this emerged, I was planning to take up the French Revolution, but I find myself distracted by the pandemic. So I have decided to set Revolution aside for the time being and return tomorrow with lighter topics.

"For God is deaf nowadays, and will not hear us,
And for our guilt he grinds good men to dust."
              --William Langland, Piers Plowman, circa 1370
                Translated Siegfried Wenzel

March 10: Covid-19 in France

The novel Covid-19 has reached France, and although all eyes are on Italy--which has "locked down" itself down--the disease in France is following a similar course. Italy identified its first case on Feb 21, and sixteen days later--March 10--they had over 10,000 cases (in  a population of 60 million.)

Although France's first case was identified in late January, the disease began to spread in late February. Thirteen days later--March 10--they had 1561 cases (in a population of 67 million.) At this rate of growth, they will surpass 10,000 cases in three  weeks.

In addition, the disease is showing up all over France. I got these maps of the spread of Covid-19 from Le Figaro.  If the course of Covid-19 in the US follows this same path, we will see 55,000 cases by the end of March, and over 13 million by the end of April. It's sobering.

 

February 25: Deep thoughts

My current ambition on FrenchKate is to tackle the French revolution and the25-years that followed: Revolution, overthrow and then death of the King and Queen, the guillotine, Napoleon's rise to become emperor, the wars against the rest of Europe (a destabilization that still haunts Europe) and finally Napoleon's fall and the restoration. It is a big topic. In the thirteen years I have been keeping this blog, I have steered clear of this central fact of French history. 

Recently, I've been reading a very dense book--"Ages of Discord"--by a Russian-American scientist, Peter Turchin, who seems to be on to something important. A biologist by training, Turchin turned from the mathematical modeling of predator behavior to the mathematical modeling of political instability in history.

My intention is to view the turbulent years of 1789 - 1815 through the lens of Turchin's Structural-Demographic theory. 

His model proposes that political instability is triggered by population growth:

• Too rapid population growth--population growth in excess of productivity gains-- leads to falling real wages and popular immiseration. The common people protest.
• Falling real wages also result in elite "overproduction" because as wages fall, a few people--the "elite," those who have the power to influence the behavior of other people--are able to increase their share of the surplus wealth. The number of people who aspire to elite positions increases leading to intra-elite competition and factions.
• The demands of an increased population also forces the state to expand the bureaucracy and the military (sources of elite positions) despite spiraling state expenses. This leads to state fiscal distress.
• Finally, the state is bankrupt, central authority is lost, and everyone rises up to beat up someone else until everyone collapses in exhaustion and, finally, agree to work with one another again.

I find it a fascinating theory. Turchin has done the proper research to back up his claims, including a huge database of political and social events from several thousand years of human history. He has, of course, looked at the French Revolution, so that should make my task more manageable. The place to start is the years before the Revolution. Was the French population enjoying a period of prosperity and population growth?

Jan 18: Louis XIII and Anne of Austria enter Lyon, 1622

I was fascinated by an oil on parchment document in Musée Gadagne.  It documented a procession that took place when King Louis XIII and Queen Anne entered Lyon in 1622.

The order of the procession represented how 17th century minds understood their society: A hierarchy comprised of three estates--clergy, nobles, commoners. 

Leading the procession were the religious orders decked out in their traditional garb and marching in order of the seniority of their foundation in Lyon: the Récollets, the Capucins, the Franciscans, the Augustine, and so on. After them were the clergy of Lyon's ten parishes. The various clergy take up the entire first row of the document.

The nobility--mostly military--begin on the second row of the document. The Governor of Lyon,  Count du Bury, on a rearing white horse comes first, followed by the captain of the city and the sergeant major, then militia from each quarter of the city, and various government officials, the "nobility of the robe"

Then the commoners: archers, soldiers, dignitaries of the different neighborhoods of Lyon, teachers and children.

Last of all, the court: the Swiss Guards (the King's bodyguards,) courtiers, the King on a horse under a dais carried by four consuls of Lyon, and the Queen under a baldachin.

At the very end, a company of archers.

 

 

 

January 11, 2020: The grasshopper and the ant

I put up my first FrenchKate on January 11, 2007  just a few days after my husband I moved to Toulouse thirteen years ago. Today, 3052 posts later, I am struck by how much I have learned about French history and culture since then...and yet dismayed by how much I still need to comprehend. 

For example, French literature. What do I know about French literature? Not nearly enough. Certain classics play an important role in French intellectual and cultural life; yet I have read few of them.

So I was very happy to have my French tutor (I meet with her once a week) propose that we read some La Fontaine's fables that she--along with all French children--had memorized as a schoolgirl. 

We started with "La cigale et la fourmi"--which English speakers know as "The grasshopper and the ant"--a cautionary tale taken from Aesop that highlights the virtues of working hard and planning ahead for rainy day. At the same time, it raises the basic ethical question: what responsibility do we have for our neighbors, and especially what responsibility do we have for our human grasshoppers. Can we just turn her away--"well, now dance!"--knowing that she is starving? 

The first illustration is from an edition of La Fontaine's fables. The second, entitled "La cigale et la fourmi," is an artwork by Paul Gauguin, now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

 

La cigale, ayant chanté                                  The grasshopper, having sung

                   Tout l'été,                                                             all summer,

Se trouva fort dépourvue                                Found herself destitute

Quand la bise fut venue:                                When the north wind came:

Pas un seul petit morceau                               She didn't have a single morsel 

de mouche ou de vermisseau.                        Of maggot or worm.

Elle alla crier famine                                      She went to her neighbor, the ant,                        

Chez la fourmi sa voisine                               And begged for help.

La priant de lui préter                                    Praying that she would lend her   

Quelque grain pour subsister                          Some grain to survive

Jusqu'à la saison nouvelle                                Until the new season;

--Je vous paîrait, lui dit-elle                          --I will pay you, she said to her,

Avant l'oût, foi d'animal,                                Before August, cross my heart,

Intéret et principal.                                        Interest and principal.

La foumi n'est pas prêteuse;                            The ant is not a lender,

C'est là son moindre défaut.                          (the least of her faults) 

--Que faisiez-vous au temps chaud?                 asked her borrower

Dit-elle à cette emprunteuse.                        --"What did you do when the weather was warm?"

--Nuit et jour à tout venant                           --"Night and day, to all who came

Je chantois, ne vous déplaise.                        I sang, you not displeasing."

--Vous chantiez? j'en suis fort aise:                 "You sang? I am glad:

Eh bien! dansez maintenant.                        Well, ...now dance.  

October 25: ...and on to Vienne

From Pérouges we drive an hour south, bypassing Lyon, to Vienne, a mid-size town with a rich history to which I already know we won't do justice. We will be there just two nights, and, of Vienne, my Michelin guide (which gives Vienne two stars) says this:

"Vienne 'perched like an altar on the buttresses of the noble Dauphiné,' to quote a local poet, is a town of exceptional interest. In a delightful setting, basking in sunlight reflected from the Rhône, a Gothic cathedral stands next to a Roman temple, while Romanesque cloisters and several ancient churches rub shoulders with an Antique theatre. The charm of 'Vienne the Beautiful' of Roman times is enhanced by the charm of 'Vienne the Holy,' the Christian city."

Vienne was once a thriving Roman town with temples, forum, theatre, baths, a circus, posh villas--and remnants of this ancient history surprise and delight tourists as they wander the city. In fact, my staid and neutral guidebook uncharacteristically exclaims that "You will be taken aback the the beauty of the Roman temple standing in the center of the square." "You will be taken aback...!" is not the usual Michelin-speak. I'm definitely intrigued.

My main reason for visiting Vienne is to explore the Gallo-Roman city of St-Romain-en-Gal, which faces Vienne across the Rhone. Excavations over the past fifty years have uncovered "sumptuous villas, businesses, workshops"  and the on-site museum showcases the archaeological site ...and the Vienne of today." I am eager to be taken aback by the Roman temple of Livia and Augustus, too.

But I am also interested in Vienne's medieval history. Vienne was one of the earliest archbishoprics established in France; the archbishop proudly claimed to be "Primate of All the Gauls." Remnants of that Christian history include the 12th century Église St-André-le-Bas  and its Romanesque cloister, the Ancienne Église St-Pierre (one of the oldest Christian buildings in France, dating to the 5th century) and the cathedral of St Maurice where the first King of Provence is buried and where Pope Callixtus II (pope between 1119 - 1124) was invested; he had been the archbishop of Vienne from 1090–1119.

Vienne found itself in the middle portion of Charlemagne's empire when it was divvied up by Treaty of Verdun. During the Middle Ages, it was capital of the Dauphiné, and, frankly, I am having trouble making sense of the history of the Dauphiné, and I hope the local musée des Beaux-Arts et d'Archéologie will help clear things up for me. Borders keep shifting. It was originally in what was called the county of Albon, part of the kingdom of Provence (until 882), then it was in the Kingdom of West Francia (until 933), then in the Kingdom of Arletat (until 1032) and then in the Holy Roman Empire--yet while Dauphiné was ruled by the counts of Albon, the real rulers of Vienne were the archbishops.

When the last count of Albon--aka, Hubert II, the Dauphin of Viennois--died without an heir in 1349, Dauphiné was sold to the king of France, but, thanks to the archbishops, Vienne was excluded from this real estate deal. Vienne only became part of France in 1449. 

Interesting historical tidbit: one of the stipulations of the sale of Dauphiné was that the heir to the French throne would henceforth be known as the Dauphin.

I also want to see for myself a modern monument honoring the 763 men from Vienne who died in World War I. Installed near the train station in 2016 (the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Verdun), the life-size mural shows the men departing for battle, and I am guessing it is powerful.

So lots to see, and not a lot of time in Vienne.

Images 1, 2 & 3: Various views of Vienne

Image 4: The temple of Livia and Augustus--a Roman temple preserved because it was converted into a church. The only other temple in France so well preserved is the one in Nîmes.

Image 5: the interior of the 5th century Ancienne Église de St-Pierre today

Image 6: the Kingdom of Arletat, or Arles, showing some of those crazy to track borders

Image 7: the mural to the soldiers who died in World War I

 

 

 

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