FrenchKate

Sept 20: Picking up the story...

Last July, I mentioned the stopover of young King Louis XIV to Toulouse in 1659 on his way to marry his cousin, Maria-Theresa of Spain. I wanted to finish the story because it foreshadows the confident Louis XIV who would emerge after Mazarin's death, the Louis who took power into his own hands and crushed the nobility. 
Louis enjoyed his time in Toulouse. Housed in the Archbishop's palace--his "petite Louvre"--he received ordinary people and included them in entertainments. He went out, visiting churches, monasteries and socializing. He attended comedies and ballets at the Logis de l'Ecu--the rough theatre on the site of today's Theatre du Capitole--including a comedy presented by the students of the Jesuits, "A Century of God is released by the Peace that the King has given France." (A real knee-slapper, that one!)

Meanwhile, the kings bodyguards--a small army of musketeers, Swiss Guards and Scots Guards--were quartered in homes and makeshift accommodations near the King, in the futile hope that proximity would produce better behavior. Unfortunately, the Annales tell us that "The soldiers ravaged families, ruined homes, cost individuals dear and caused harm to people.” It is even said that it was necessary to shoot some for violence committed while drunk, including the last straw, the murder of the executioner. Louis's stay in Toulouse also illustrates the consequences of an undisciplined military. The practice of forcing civilians to quarter soldiers was also perpetrated in neighboring Britain, and so hated that it inspired a Constitutional Amendment in the US Constitution 124 years later. The Constitution safeguarded the following liberties of citizens: freedom of speech, right to bear arms, and freedom from quartering soldiers. 

However, where the finances of the kingdom were concerned, the King proved to be ruthless. While Louis was in Toulouse, the provincial estates of Languedoc--church, nobility, everyone else--had been trying to hammer out the tax owed by the province to the royal treasury. Languedoc was one of the few estates that was given the privilege to negotiate taxes; this right had been suppressed in most other estates. However, the gathered assembly was left speechless when the representatives of the king threatened to suppress their privilege of negotiating tax increases. After further and long deliberation, they obediently voted to give the crown three million livres, double the amount of the preceding year.

On 16 October, the king received the deputies of the Estates of Langudoc, during which audience the President of the Estates of Languedoc fulsomely praised the king's warriors, “the brilliance of your name fills Escurial (a monastery associated with the King of Spain) with horror." On 18 October, the king received the Capitouls who praised him with the happy message that “The peace that your kindness has given us is all the more agreeable because she will last forever, the first fruits of this happy marriage that your majesty contacts.” 

Opening their purses, submission and obsequiousness, however, did not purchase the King's favor. The Toulousains were dumbstruck first, when it came time to elect the Capitouls for 1660, and the Vigurie, the official representative of the King Louis, announced that the king had decided to choose the eight capitouls for next year himself,without consultation.

Then, several days later, the Capitouls received two decrees from the King’s Council; the first revoked a wartime tax break, the second prohibited the exercise of certain rights without the prior authorization of the king. The Capitouls, shocked, sent a delegation to complain to Mazarin about this poor treatment--"Will we be unfortunate enough to lose in peacetime the advantages that we had preserved during the war?”--but they were given no satisfaction.

So, King Louis XVI, aged 21, though still under the thumb of Cardinal Mazarin, was already willing to flex his royal power and nibble away at the privileges of provincial nobles. This was just six years after the end of the Fronde, the dangerous civil war which taught young Louis the dangers of a too powerful nobility.

Images:

1) Young Louis XIV, c 1661

2) & 3) Entertainments--a ball, theatre

4) Those disruptive Musketeers

5) The Capitouls selected by Louis XIV. I haven't found anything more about them, yet, but I have to believe it was awkward.

March 2: L'accent de Toulouse

Searching for a video of Occitan--the langue d'Oc or "patois du midi--I came across the fact that in a 2013 poll, the accent of Toulouse was voted the most sexy (34%) and the most charming (70%) in France

Although this video is in French (good practice!) I appreciated all the familiar scenes in Toulouse.

April 29: Views of Toulouse

And here's another placeholder. One picture is worth 1001 words.

L'Auta is the monthly journal of Les Toulousains de Toulouse et amis du Vieux-Toulouse--the Toulousains of Toulouse and the friends of Old Toulouse--an organization founded to preserve the history and documents of Toulouse. 

This particular cover shows the start of rue Alsace-Lorraine, which, like rue du Metz, was carved through the heart of medieval Toulouse. The rounded building in the center, from 1877, is matched by one on rue de Metz.

On the right can be glimpsed the wonderful art nouveau 1903 building that formerly housed Galeries Lafayette, now closed. 

April 27: What does anyone know about history?

You may get the idea that I am preoccupied at the moment, and the answer is, yes, yes, I am preoccupied. It's near the end of the semester, and a great deal needs to be completed between now and May 8th.

But when I have a moment to spare, I am pondering what a guide book--"Walking in France: Exploring France's Great Towns and Finest Landscapes on Foot"--says in its opening passage about Toulouse:

"Toulouse has always been the  hub of the southwest. Once it was the capital for all the regions united by the Occitan dialect or langue d'Oc. Now it is a thriving centre for the aerospace industry, but arts and culture still flourish here, and it makes an excellent stopping place before you go walking in the nearby mountains of the Pyrénées or visit the historic towns of Albi, Carcassonne or Moissac."

"The settlement that became Toulouse originally grew up by a shallows where the river Garonne could be easily forded. It was known as Tolosa by the Romans and became a centre of new ideas, converting to Christianity in the 3rd century. The Visigoths made it their capital in the 5th century before it fell into Merovingian hands in 508. After Charlemagne, the region was ruled by the counts of Toulouse, a great feudal dynasty that kept one of the most magnificent courts in Europe."

While this statement contains nothing inaccurate--it is very typical guidebook-ese and, in fact, a more extensive treatment than many--what strikes me is how it skips across the surface of history. Perhaps, a traveller doesn't need to know more, but how much does any American tourist understand about these references to Occitan, the Celtic pre-history of France, the Roman empire, Gallo-Rome, the emergence of Christianity in Europe as Rome's influence declined, the Visigoths, the Merovingians, Charlemagne or the counts of Toulouse? How much richer would one's experience of southern France be if one had a richer representation of these historical events?

The first photo is rue du Taur, the ancient road out of Toulouse leading to the pilgrimage church of St Sernin. The second is a print from 1642 showing the Bazacle, the mill, and the ford thanks to which Toulouse was founded. (between the two blue spots.)

April 22: A Surprise in Toulouse

The area of Toulouse most affected by the creation of Rue de Metz had once been the Forum of Roman Tolosa, a public space dedicated to commerce, worship and politics. When rue de Metz was created in 1892, a market had been on this site for at least 700 years, and the Toulousains had purchased the  ingredients for their daily meals--sausages, salted goose, chicken, fresh fish, produce, legumes, bread--for hundreds of years, possibly over a thousand years. 

The city fathers of Toulouse, the Capitouls, installed a granary on this site in 1203. My source describes the building as a wooden frame resting on pillars of wood and brick. It housed weights for measuring grain, and, while principally used for the grain business, food, fruits and meats were sold there as well. Fairs took place there on Monday, Wednesdays, and Friday as well. 

By the mid-19th century, however, this structure, much repaired, had endured for nearly 700 years, and the people who lived near it were full of complaints. The building was cramped, unsightly and unsanitary! The grain attracted rats! The merchants obstructed traffic!

Finally, in 1863 - 1865, the old halles was demolished, and two new ones were built to replace it--one on the halle aux grains in Place du Puy (still existant, now a concert venue) and one on what would become Place Esquirol, the Marché Couvert sur la place de la Halle du Blè. Inspired by the Central Halles of Paris of architect Victor Baltard, metal buildings like these were the symbol of modernity in the mid-19th century. It was well suited for a food market: airy enough to allow air circulation, bright enough that customers could see the quality of the food, covered to protect against the elements.

The building consisted of two pavilions of metal, glass and wood, joined together by a central corridor which provided air circulation and facilitated distribution of goods. One pavilion held meat and dairy stalls: butchers, tripe merchants, poultry merchants who sold both dead chickens and fresh geese, cheese, butter, game and truffles and so on. The other pavilion was outfitted with basins to hold fresh fish and shellfish. The plan was to have water circulating to keep the fish and shellfish fresh, but they never got that function working. 

Of course, when rue de Metz was cut in 1892, the covered market was in the way. It was demolished only 29 years after its construction. Its functions were replaced by three other metal markets. One was at Victor Hugo, another at Carmes and the last one, still existant, St Cyprien market in place Rouget.

The surprise was for me: in my explorations of Toulouse, I had never heard of this market before.

The market in the first image--a post card from 1900 or so--is the market in Cordes-sur-Ciel, originally built in 1273. This is what I imagine the original Toulouse market looked like, a wood roof on stone pillars. The second image, from wikipedia, is almost exactly the same view in 2014. Things haven't changed much, have they? though everything appears to have been spruced up for the tourist trade.

The third image is another covered market, this one in the bastide of Monpazier, dating to 1285. This one includes weights for measuring grain, perhaps like those in the halle du blé in Toulouse.

The final image is the architect's design for the marché couvert from 1860.

April 21: Urban renewal in Toulouse, c 1890

In the late 19th century, the city fathers of Toulouse created what we know today as rue de Metz by clearing out buildings and driving a road from Pont Neuf east to the Cathedral St-Étienne. 

You can get a sense of what was done by comparing the first and second maps. The first shows Toulouse in 1830--I've drawn a red line to indicate the approximate position of modern rue de Metz. The second is an aerial view of the same area in 2009. I don't need to mark rue de Metz because it is so clear from the photograph. All the white dots, by the way, are historic buildings.

Feb 10: What to write about when you are very sad about Jon Stewart...

Over the past several weeks, I have been disheartened by the announcement that the Koch brothers are planning to spend nearly a billion dollars to ensure that reactionaries dominate in the 2016 elections. This made it painful to learn tonight that Jon Stewart, one of our moral compasses, is leaving the Daily Show within the year. This announcement came just a week after Andrew Sullivan closed his blog. Those of us who believe in self-government, generosity, perspective and reason have lost two important voices. And, trivially, tonight was also the last night of Pilates with our excellent instructor, Bonnie. It feels like an era is ending, and these changes make me sad. 

Before I was diverted to the Goddards of Rhode Island, I was writing about the Palais de Justice in Toulouse so I'll pick up there. This screenshot was taken from a video of the Palais. Thanks to a modern architect, a fragment of Toulouse's old brick wall--225 feet long, four feet thick, forty feet tall--has been preserved, flanked by modern construction.  

I suppose there is a deep metaphor there, about continuity in the midst of change. Maybe it is a metaphor about stark modernity boxing in old defenses. Maybe it is a reminder of what we have lost.

Jan 27: Palais de justice de Toulouse

Between 1996 and 2008, the Palace of Justice in Toulouse was revitalized no doubt to meet the demands of a 21st century court. The architect brilliantly married modern architecture with historic features.

 

Jan 23: Statue of Jacques Cujas in Place du Salin

The first photo is one that I took last summer of the statue of Jacques Cujas--Jacobus Cujacius in Latin--that stands near the entrance to the Court of Appeals in the Palais de Justice in Toulouse. (Some photos that are better than mine are here.) Cujas (1520 - 1590) was a Toulouse-born jurist who reformed French law by returning to the original works of Roman law rather than relying on the medieval commentators. The statue by artist Achille Valois was cast in 1850.

You will notice the statue in the postcard of the Palais de Justice that I posted yesterday (from 1900) but it doesn't appear in the photo (second image) of the entrance to the Cours d'appel that appears in Henri Ramet's Le Capitole et le Parlement de Toulouse (published in 1926.) Moved? Just out of sight?

 

Jan 22: Parlement

The Parlement of Toulouse, the second Parlement of the Kingdom, was established in 1437 by King Charles VII. When we hear "Parlement" we think, Parliament, the legislative branch of government where representatives of the people pass laws. But that's a johnny-com-lately republican idea. Parlement in the ancien regime was the King's own highest court where the King's laws were implemented and final appeals heard.

The Parlement of Toulouse was distinguished both for the size of its jurisdiction--it governed a huge region of Frances at its peak, from the Atlantic to the Rhone, from the Pyrenees north to the Dordogne--and because its rulings were based on Roman law unlike the northern Parlement of Paris. 

Parlement was originally housed in the decrepit old Château Narbonnais. This massive stone fortress had glowered over the southern gate of Toulouse since the Roman era; it had been the seat of the Counts of Toulouse until the death of the last count in 1271. It was falling into ruin when King Henri II ordered its demolition in 1549, and in the following five years, Toulousain architect, Nicholas Bachelier (responsible for all the glorious renaissance architecture in Toulouse) directed construction of new buildings, but after the Wars of Religion interrupted construction, what would have been a glorious plan was abandoned. Buildings were raised as needed on the open land left by the demolition of the Chateau.

Parlement was suppressed in 1789--a number of Parlementaires were even guillotined--and many of its satellite buildings, prisons and administrative offices were knocked down in the first part of the 19th century. Although a few of the particularly splendid older chambers were preserved, the buildings we see today--the Palais de Justice--were built during the reign of Louis Philippe in the 1830s

My source for this, Henri Ramet's Le Capitole et Le Parlement de Toulouse, editorializes that "today's Palace of Justice is a dreary triple building without character, the work of an era when architects preferred to realize monuments that were useful but without grace."

The postcard of the Palace de Justice is from around 1900.