Madame Tussaud: Lies, Fables and a Ball of wax

In last week’s post, I featured the riveting and almost unbelievable tale of Marie Tussaud and asked readers to guess if it was true. Although certainly a dramatic tale, much of what I wrote is complete rubbish. I really hope you didn't believe any of it. Let’s take a closer look at fact vs. fiction...

Royal Connections
Not a single piece of written evidence exists to show Marie ever lived at Versailles. She wasn’t even on the royal payroll. Most likely, Marie’s claimed connection to Madame Elizabeth was not a complete lie, but a tiny fib. Madame Elizabeth was known to make wax effigies of religious characters so it is very probable that she asked Marie to stop by now and then for instruction.

Marie also speaks of the court gossip, Madame Campan (shown here) as if they were best friends. Interestingly, Madame Campan never bothers to mention Marie Tussaud in her Memoirs of Marie Antoinette. This is very curious coming from someone who recorded daily life at Versailles with such detail.

Marie’s Death Mask
Many of the details of how Marie made her death masks may be complete fabrication. Marie relates how she was forced to take a death mask of Foulon's severed head with the angry mob standing over her. This ghoulish relic became very popular in her later exhibitions. In the memoirs of Chateaubriand, he describes how Foulon's head was pushed into his carriage and he was forced to look upon the grisly remains. His exact words were, "an eye in one head had been pushed from its socket and was dangling on the corpse's face, the pike sticking through the gaping mouth, the teeth clenched on the iron.' (1) How did Marie make a mask directly from De Launay’s face if it was so poorly mutilated? A mask taken from the scene that Chateaubriand describes would have probably looked more like a smashed grapefruit than a severed head.

Then there is the story of the Princesse de Lamballe’s murder (shown on the right) –a well-documented event with many first hand accounts. They also basically repeat the same grisly details – tortured and murdered, head on a pike, paraded in front of Marie Antoinette etc. etc. I have yet to find a single eye-witness that mentions Marie ever being there. Kate Bertridge poses many of these questions in her fascinating book - why did the angry mob want a wax effigy of the Princess as a memento? Why not take a lock of hair? Hmmmm suspicious.

Art Inspires Life or Life inspires Art
The ghastly realistic heads modeled from Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI, Robespierre, and Madame Lambelle can be found in Madame Tussaud’s Chamber of Horrors in London today (shown below). In Marie’s memoirs she claims that she would take her bag of sculpting tools and tip toe into Madeline Cemetery to pick through the rolling heads. During her work, members of the National Assembly stood over her as she was forced to make wax molds from the decapitated victims that she once knew personally. The image of Marie forced into her profession, a victim of the revolution herself, certainly casts her in a sympathetic light. Unfortunately, the truth may not be as tragic.


At the time, an unconfirmed rumor existed that the executioner Charles-Henri Sanson was proffering Revolutionary heads for Curtis and Marie for a fee. Supposedly, Curtis would make wax molds from the purchased heads and then return them to trunks in the Madeline cemetery. It wouldn’t be the only example of Sanson profiting from revolutionary relics. One of Sanson’s ingenious marketing ventures was to sell the fat from the guillotined corpses as a cure for rheumatic pains. After the death of King Louis XVI, he also auctioned off the dead king’s hat and had a profitable business in buttons and locks of royal hair. Selling these items were the perks of being an executioner and were well in the rights of the executioner, but the king’s body was an entirely different story.

Authorities were so careful about destroying the king’s remains that they used a double dose of quicklime to decompose it. One layer of quick lime would have really got the job done, but The National Assembly wanted to make sure that relics of the king were not made. They even ordered all of the king’s possessions from the Temple to be burned. So how did Marie creep into Madeline Cemetery to make a mold of the king’s head when authorities were taking every means possible to destroy any memory of the monarch? Was Marie really a shrewd businesswoman who profited from an illegal racket of decapitated heads? We will never know the truth, but the fact that authorities were so adamant about destroying royal remains is a curious contradiction to Marie’s version of events.(2)

The Guillotine that killed Marie Antoinette
The guillotine located in the Chambers of Horrors today claims that it is the original knife that lopped off Marie Antoinette’s head, but these claims cannot be confirmed. The original catalog listing describes this relic as, ‘purchased by Madame Tussaud herself, together with the lunette, which held the victim’s head in position and the chopper which the executioner kept at hand for use should the guillotine knife fail. The executioner, Sanson vouched for the authenticity of these articles and gave them to his grandson.’(3)

Executions were a family business to the Sanson family and Charles-Henri Sanson passed down the trade to his son, Clement-Henri. After the revolution, it was obviously a lot harder to find work as an executioner and Clement-Henri fell into debt. He tried to remedy his solvency by opening up a bawdy Chamber of Horrors in the Sanson home. Unfortunately, the home-based chambers of horrors just didn't have the same ghoulish appeal as the real thing. For one, Sanson tried using the famous guillotine to decapitate unfortunate sheep. Most people were not amused. He then tried to sell the "national razor," but was unsuccessful finding a buyer. The guillotine and symbol of radical bloodshed soon disappeared. 4 Clement-Henri did sell the original plans used to make the guillotine to the Tussauds and from those plans a replica was made. Most likely, the original guillotine was destroyed by the Justice Ministry after the Revolutionary fires cooled. Keeping the guillotine would have been tantamount to Americans preserving slave ships. I find it hard to believe that it wouldn't have been destroyed.

Pals with Josephine and Napoleon
Marie claims that she was in La Forte Prison at the same time as Josephine, but no record exists of Josephine being imprisoned there. (She was imprisoned in Carmes prison.) In fact, no records exists of Marie ever being imprisoned there either. Marie even goes so far as to say that her friendship with Josephine secured her an intriguing assignment making a life mask from Napoleon Bonaparte. The wax model of Napoleon became the most popular exhibit amongst the British who viewed Napoleon as more myth than man. This story seems absurd when we remember that Napoleon was a man who could never sit still. He dictated to his artists the pose, the props, even the frame of the painting. He left nothing to chance. Jacque Louis David begged him to pose for a formal sitting and Napoleon always refused. So it seems odd that he would sit for wax being poured on his face when he wouldn’t sit for a state portrait.

Napoleon certainly had a utilitarian appreciation for wax sculpture. In 1796, he purchased models from the famous wax anatomical sculptor, Felice Fontana to be used in anatomical studies for his army surgeons. In 1806, he even set up a school in Rouen to teach artists the art of wax modeling. (4) With his usual quest for knowledge, especially knowledge that would help in his military campaign, Napoleon valued wax as a teaching medium. But as art….wax held less allure for the pragmatic emperor.

More slippery than a ball of wax.
Marie’s memoirs become problematic when these incongruities are exposed. For one, if she lied about people she knew and events…what else did she lie about? Do we throw the whole memoirs out or choose to believe some of it? I will confess that I am being hard on Marie. Her memoirs do provide a first hand account into a very dramatic period in history and we must also remember that Marie’s legacy was born out of the dime museum era in entertainment. This was an age when P.T. Barnum displayed the first “Fejee Mermaid” - captured off the coast of Fejee island and Joice Heth - a women over 160 years old. A good hoax was an art and deception was part of the entertainment. In other words, audiences knew that they were being tricked and that was half the fun. Marie indulged in the same humbug as her fellow showman while blurring the line between entertainment and history. So we must take her memoirs with the proverbial grain of salt and remember that Marie Tussaud was a showman first and a historian second.


What do you think about Marie’s account of history? How much of it should we believe? And I will pose a deeper question for the more philosophically inclined – is the modern day Madame Tussauds a reflection of who we revere in society today? You certainly won’t find firefighters, police officers, teachers or even many examples of royalty drawing crowds to Madame Tussauds.

Notes:
(1) Bertridge. p. 113
(2) Pilbeam p. 62,
(3) Bertridge. p. 132.
(4) Pilbeam p. 109

Sources and Further Reading:
Tussaud, Marie. The Memoirs of Madame Tussaud, Saunders and Otley, 1838. Bertridge, Kate.
Marie Tussaud: A Life in Wax, New York, NY: Harper Perennial, 2007.
Pilbeam, Pamela. Madame Tussaud and the History of Waxworks, London and New York: Hambledon & London, 2003.
Madame Tussaud and Sons' Exhibition, Biographical and Descriptive Sketches of the Distinguished Characters which Compose the Unrivalled Exhibition and Historical Gallery of Madame Tussaud and Sons ... G. Cole by W.S. Johnson, 1866
Time Magazine, Heirs of the Widows, Monday October 15, 1951
Chateaubriand, FrancÌois-ReneÌ, The memoirs of Chateaubriand, New York, NY: Knopf, 1961.

Get your Napoleon questions ready for the Book Giveaway

Most Napoleon fans are already familiar with J. David Markham’s books. I am very excited to have Mr. Markham as a guest interview at the end of February. You can visit his site to learn more about his books and I also recommend his fascinating Napoleon podcast that covers everything Napoleon from myth to military hero. (My favorite episode is of course the Josephine/Napoleon one!)

For those of you who might not be acquainted with Mr. Markham’s work, here is his biography:

J. David Markham is an internationally acclaimed historian, Napoleonic scholar and award-winning author. For over twenty years he has written and lectured about Napoleon and other historical topics. His other interests include Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar/Ancient Rome, and the French Revolution. He and his wife, Barbara, live in Olympia, Washington, USA. David has taught history and other subjects at the university, college and high school levels, and has received numerous teaching awards and recognitions.

David is President of the International Napoleonic Society, having served as Executive Vice-President and Editor-in-Chief from 1996 until 2008. He has produced a series of International Napoleonic Congresses in Europe, the Middle East and Asia and edited two editions of the journal, Napoleonic Scholarship.

David served as President of the Napoleonic Alliance from 2004-2007, and as Executive Vice-President for some years before his terms as president.

A collector of some note, he has one of the world’s finest private collections of Napoleonic snuffboxes, as well as a significant collection of miniatures and engravings. All of the images used in his books come from his collection.

Book Giveaway
Mr. Markham will be giving a signed copy of one of his books to one lucky reader.* I am going to do something a little different for this book giveaway. Instead of doing a random drawing from newsletter subscribers, the winner of Mr. Markham’s book will be drawn from THE TOP FIVE interview questions. Your question can be an author related question or something more specific about Napoleon. If your question is chosen, it will be used in the author interview and entered into the book giveaway. Readers are welcome to enter more than one question. Deadline for entries is February 5th.

Enter your questions below in the comments field for a chance to win!

Small discriminatory Print
US subscribers only for this one, but international newsletter subscriber can win the monthly book giveaway.

The Ultimate Bad Girl Hat

The picture to the left shows the most risque hats of the 15th century – the horned headdress and the hennin. These trend-setting hats were rumored to have originated with the illustrious raucous royal Isabeau of Bavaria (she's the one in the red). The fashion was somewhat short lived (around 1400-1450) probably because looking like a horned animal was a pretty scandalous look even for medieval France. Horned animals, like stags, were the ultimate symbol of masculinity so the horned hennin smacked of cross-dressing. One monk, named Thomas Connecte, was especially against young ladies and their diabolical vanities. He gave some uplifting sermons that led to a feisty hat burning party. This might not seem shocking today, but ears and especially hair were the short skirts of their day. A woman (even sometimes a prostitute) would never leave the house without a hat covering most of her hair unless she was unmarried. In fact, if a man stripped off a women's hat then it was considered an assault against a women's character because it was equivalent to calling somone an amoral (insert nasty word here).


But it turns out that it takes more than an angry monk and a hat burning party to tame a medieval fashionista. Ladies went right back to wearing their horny hats and soon doors had to be enlarged to fit their wide heads. I love when fashion changes architecture.

The horned hennin later evolved into the steeple hats that today conjure up images of damsels in distress and girls playing princess. Again, this fashion was short-lived by medieval standards and was seen only in France. Variations occurred with hats that looked like a flower pot and hats that formed a point at the top.

For a closer look at 18th century hats visit the Duchess of Devonshire’s ode to the Portrait Hat.

Sources and Further Reading:
De Courtais, Georgine. Women’s Hats, Headdresses and Hairstyles, Mineolo: New York, Dover Publications, 1973
Newman, Paul B. Daily Life in the Middle Ages, Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company Inc, 2001

Not your Grandma’s Wuthering Heights

PBS’ steamy new take on Emily Bronte’s classic Wuthering Heights is sure to give die-hard Bronte fans a bad case of the vapors. Some of the more poetic lines are assigned to different people. Plot lines are twisted. And most threatening of all, characters dramatically veer from the book’s portrayal of them. (Gasp!)

For example, Bronte’s Cathy is a churlish, drama queen with a snobbish comeuppance that makes her undeserving of Heathcliff’s love. In the movie, Charlotte Riley portrays a more sympathetic Cathy who passionately begs for Heathcliff’s forgiveness. She screams, "what have I done," when she realizes that her marriage to the debonair yet dull Edgar was a seriously bad move. She knows she will never be free of Heathcliff's (Tom Hardy) all-consuming hold on her, but she places the blame at her own feet...something Bronte's self-destructive Cathy would never have done. As a result, I couldn't help but like this Cathy more. And although less complex, she seemed far more real to me.

This is a hard book to translate into a movie. Bronte’s portrayal of Cathy and Healthcliff's relationship is a slow build of emotion. The movie goes straight for the jugular.

For example: In the book, the poignancy of Heathcliff and Cathy’s first reunion is implied when Nell the housekeeper notices the peaceful serenity of the Moor’s fog parting to reveal Wuthering Heights in the distance. After not seeing Heathcliff for over 3 years, Cathy brings him into the parlor for tea with her new husband, Edgar. Hardly a morsel of food is touched. The prose is beautiful. The tension is palpable. Most importantly, the reader understands perfectly the emotional significance of their reunion.


But while the symbolic parting of the fog over the Moors and the untouched food may work in a book, in a film….it just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, the producers of this Wuthering Heights used less fog and more steam. Instead, Healthcliff hungrily devours Cathy and whispers, “when can we be alone.” It sounds cheesy in writing, but Hardy’s uncontrollable ferocity and Riley’s total surrender will have even the most hardened Bronte fan reaching for their smelling salts.

Undeniably, Tom Hardy is hot. I don’t mean just hot as in sexy. I mean he boils over with hatred. While some people may prefer their Heathcliff watered down with a dash of Lawrence Olivier’s Victorian propriety or Ralph Fiennes soulful tenderness, I will take my tea and crumpets with the brooding savage any day. Hardy by far does the best job yet capturing the powerful brutality of Heathcliff’s personality. It’s one of the reasons why I originally fell in love with Wuthering Heights. It’s not just that it is a disturbingly, raw tale. It’s a disturbingly raw tale that anyone can relate to. For who hasn’t been in a relationship that was destructive to their soul? Hardy’s performance packs such a fierce emotional wallop that it is sometimes painful to watch. If only I could occasionally reach into my television and slap him (or at least brush his hair) then it wouldn’t make me ache so much. Instead, I have to sit back and watch him muck up everyone’s life in the name of revenge. And that is just part one…

If you missed the first episode, you can ache too by watching it online. Let me know what you think.

Winner of Encyclopedia of the End!

#101 was picked as this month's winner. Congratulations to Marie who will receive Encyclopedia of the End. Just email me your address and I will send out your prize. Info@CarlynBeccia.com

Next month's book giveaway will be one of the fascinating reads by Napoleonic historian J. David Markham . Mr. Markham will also be stopping by for a guest interview so get those Napoleon questions ready.

All newsletter subscribers are automatically entered to win the book giveaway. Sign up here if you are not a newsletter subscriber.

Madame Tussaud: Witness to the Revolution

When you mention the name "Madame Tussaud" most people think of the wax replicas of celebrities and politicians housed in the infamous tourist trap, Madame Tussauds Wax Museum. Each sculpture’s eerie realism holds the key to their allure. Not only can you get two inches from a live model of Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie, but you can also stare rudely at their wax twin without censure. It’s this last aspect that has fascinated visitors of Madame Tussauds for over 200 years. We all have the urge to look. Yet behind the glossy complexions of wax starlets, lies a story of a woman who survived the French Revolution to become one of the most famous makers of the dead.

Marie’s story is so shocking that I have to put a parental advisory before continuing. Some of this content is of a violent nature.

Marie Tussaud was born Marie Grosholtz in 1761 in Strasbourg, France. Her mother, Anne Made, took her to work as a housekeeper in the Berne home of Dr. Philippe Curtis who was highly skilled at wax modeling. Marie called Curtis her “uncle”, but rumors of the time implied that he may have actually been her father. Whether niece or daughter, Marie certainly inherited a talent for sculpting wax and Curtis nurtured this talent. Curtis and Marie re-located to Paris in 1765 and Marie’s skill secured her a position teaching art to Louis XVI’s sister, Madame Elizabeth. It didn't take long for Marie to get an invitation to live in the splendid court of Versailles. From daughter of a humble housekeeper to instructor to the king’s sister, Marie’s star was rising.

Wax Fruit
In an age without photography, wax artists were the Papa Razzi of their day and Curtis’s Wax Salon was the leader in this new form of entertainment. Located at the heart of the burgeoning Paris entertainment district –20 Boulevard du Temple, Curtis had two sections to his exhibition. The first section contained wax models of the most glamorous Parisians. His most popular tableau by far was “Marie Antoinette and her family eating dinner”. Of course, spectators properly attired could already watch the real Marie Antoinette eat her dinner at Versailles for free, but society ladies and commoners alike chose to see Curtis’s show instead. Why? Probably because watching the real queen nervously put tiny morsels of food into her mouth was not as titillating as it seemed. Curtis’s show offered visitors something the real queen could not – a chance to stare. Just as the barker outside the exhibition promised ‘Come and see the royal family at dinner! Exactly as at Versailles,’ ¹ visitors could get all the details of a Versailles dinner without the uncomfortable feeling of invading the queen’s privacy. Visitors could even see the far more salacious display of the queen in a low cut nightgown preparing for bed. Sadly, Marie Antoinette was far more enticing as a carnival peep show than a real person and Curtis was savvy enough to realize the public’s voyeuristic desires.

Wax Criminals
The second section contained the Caverne des Grands Voleurs or what we know today as The House of Horrors. Much like today, the original show was a ghastly smattering of tortured criminals. Unlike today, The Caverne also provided one-stop shopping for citizens looking for the latest news. The Caverne was sort of like TiVo for executions. Visitors who happened to miss the latest hanging could stop by Curtis’s show to watch the executions up-close and personal with the added benefit of getting a much longer look. You can still visit the Chamber of Horrors today and even see the real guillotine that killed Marie Antoinette. 2

Wax Fashion
Most of the details of Curtis’s exhibition survive through catalogs and guide books published annually. The wax faces certainly shared the same goal of hyper realism as they do today, but the bodies were usually rougher interpretations made from wood or leather and clothed in the latest fashion. The subjects were made from both life and death. Curtis and Marie would rub oil on the face and pomade on the hair so that the plaster would not stick. Then they would stick straws in the person’s nostrils so that they could breath. (This step was skipped if they were dead). Next, they would pour the plaster of Paris over the face that would later be used as a mold for the wax. Finishing touches were added with glass for eyes, real hair and yes….even real human teeth. This process is very similar to the death masks made in the 16th century discussed in a previous post.

By far the most important detail of Curtis’s wax models was what they were wearing. Women all over France, England and neighboring countries would visit Curtis’s Salon to see Marie Antoinette’s favorite dress made by her personal stylist, Rose Bertin or the King's mistress, Madame du Barry lounging in all her finery. Just as we look at mannequins in store windows or read fashion magazines today, Parisians stopped by Curtis’s Salon to see what the fashion cognoscenti were wearing.

All Fun and Games until someone loses a head…
If it had not been for the Revolution, Marie might have lived a charmed life circulating amongst the French court and be forgotten today. Instead, her life was to take a drastic turn. On July 14, 1789, not far from the Boulevard du temple, the Bastille prison was attacked by a group of disaffected soldiers and seriously angry citizens. The initial goal was to get the Bastille’s ammunition, but like all good historical events, meaning was attached in the aftermath. The Bastille became the towering symbol of injustice that swallowed the rights of man within its gothic walls. (insert creepy organ music here). Yet to government officials, it was just an eye soar. In fact, the Bastille was scheduled for demolition before the Revolution had begun and only housed 7 confused prisoners. Citizens got a jump-start on the demolition (and a chance to vent their anger) by tearing the Bastille Fortress down brick by brick. The governor, De Launay, surrendered and was taken to Hotel de Ville where he was beaten to an unrecognizable pulp. His head was hoisted upon a pike and displayed to the mob. The gory details are captured in the above print.

Madame Tussaud’s Art Debut
Soon the crowd tired of the real head and decided that a wax head was needed to continue the revelries. De Launay’s head was brought to a shocked Marie and while she sat on the steps of her exhibition, the mob forced her to make an impression of the face. ³ Nine days after the fall of the Bastille, Curtis got two more assignments – the severed heads of Foulon and his son-in-law. Foulon had been named to replace the much loved finance minister Necker, but had the misfortune of making a badly timed comment suggesting the starving peasants, "eat hay". For this remark, the mob lopped off his head, put it on a pike and added in the extra embellishment of hay in his mouth. Things were getting ugly.

Wax CNN
The violence continued for years while Marie and Curtis recorded details of the dead in wax effigy. One of the most grotesque blood baths occurred on September 2nd, 1792 when Marie-Louise, Princess de Lamballe was attacked by an angry mob. After her death, her head was decapitated and...you guessed it.... put on a pike. The manic crowd then took her pubic hair and used it to make a mustache. Amongst the carnage the bloody head was carried to Madame Tussaud and she was forced to apply makeup to the face. The mob then took their trophy art and paraded it outside Marie Antoinette’s window. The queen fainted when she saw her friend’s mutilated face.

Curtis now had the opportunity to reinvent his business. Gone were the days of wax figures as fashion plates. Now, Curtis’s wax figures became the Revolution’s news snapshots. Wondering who was sent to the guillotine? Just stop by Curtis wax works for the latest news. And unlike print, the medium of wax was much harder to censor.

A “hands on” Worker
Marie Tussaud would go on to make death masks of Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI, Charlotte Corday, scary Robespierre (shown here), Marat and sadly her former employer – the selfless Madame Elizabeth. After an execution took place, Marie crept into Madeline Cemetery with her carpet bag of tools and set to work making her effigy of the famously dead. Whenever you think your job is tough, think what it would have been like to pick through decapitated heads in a graveyard and make molds from their faces. Then think what it would have been like to pick through decapitated heads of people that you once knew. Worst of all, Marie had no choice. It was a life full of danger because she never knew when the mob would turn on her.

Marie’s day came when she was suspected of being a royalist sympathizer and was thrown into La Forte Prison. Her hair was hacked off as she awaited her execution. Only a miracle could save her. That miracle came when Curtis pulled some strings and secured her release. Interestingly, during her stay at La Forte, Marie met a frail lady awaiting the same fate, Josephine Beahnarais who would also survive to become Empress Josephine Bonaparte. Years later Josephine would introduce Marie to Napoleon to take a wax model of the emperor. 4

Life after the Revolution
Marie’s life after the Revolution is less dramatic. She married a deadbeat speculator named Francois Tussaud in 1795. In 1802, she left the horrors of the Revolution behind her (and also her husband and youngest child), and spent the rest of her life traveling throughout England displaying her wax models. Marie Tussaud never returned to France. She died in 1850, at the age of 88. Her sons carried on her legacy by displaying her wax models and growing the enterprise that has become Madame Tussauds Wax Museum today. Many of Marie’s models can still be seen today in Madame Tussauds, London including the deaths’ heads of Robespierre, Louis XIV, Marie Antoinette, Marat in his bath and even the guillotine that killed Marie Antoinette.

Wow. What a life right? It’s a pretty unbelievable tale. Hollywood could make a movie out of it. And it must be true because you read it on the internet. It’s even written by a fairly sane person. Or wait….I think she is sane? No, she has to be sane. She writes children’s books. They don’t let insane people write children’s book.

The information in this post comes from the very pen of Marie - The Memoirs of Madame Tussaud published in 1838. So then it has to be true. Right? Stay tuned for part II to find out...

(1) Pilbeam, p 29.
(2) Or at least that is what the museum claims. Stay tuned for next post to find out if it that is complete rubbish.
(3)Pilbeam claims that this account comes from Madame Tussaud and Circus owner Philip Astley but no footnote is provided. Marie Tussaud makes no mention of De Launey’s murder in her memoirs.
(4) At least that is what Marie Tussaud claims.

Sources and Further Reading:
Tussaud, Marie. The Memoirs of Madame Tussaud, Saunders and Otley, 1838.
Bertridge, Kate. Marie Tussaud: A Life in Wax, New York, NY: Harper Perennial, 2007.
Pilbeam, Pamela. Madame Tussaud and the History of Waxworkds, London and New York: Hambledon & London, 2003.
Madame Tussaud and Sons' Exhibition, Biographical and Descriptive Sketches of the Distinguished Characters which Compose the Unrivalled Exhibition and Historical Gallery of Madame Tussaud and Sons ... G. Cole by W.S. Johnson, 1866

Last chance to watch Tess of the D'Urbervilles

I watched the second episode last night and cried like a baby. Really, I can't remember when I enjoyed a series so much. Heather Carroll's review sums it up perfectly. When I originally read Hardy's book, I was so focused on Tess and Angel's relationship that I completely missed the greatest love story of all - Tess and her friends. My favorite is Izzy.

Tess will only be available online until 11pm tonight.

Raucous Book of the Month - Giveaway

Encyclopedia of the End: Mysterious Death in Fact, Fancy, Folklore and More
By Deborah Noyes

In her new book, Deborah Noyes braves the grim reaper to demystify death in an alphabetically-listed banquet of facts, folklore, science and history. The scientifically inclined will be intrigued by the process of rigor mortis, postmortem and near-death experience, to name just a few. The history buff will find fascinating stories of 19th century body snatchers, death masks, death portraits, and tales of Houdini convening with the spirit world. Looking for a lighter fair at the death banquet? Skip to the letter G and read about goths, ghosts and graveyards. Looking for something meatier? Noyes includes the different cultural viewpoints on death in a respectful, but never preachy tone. Best of all, each topic includes just the right amount of details to keep inquisitive readers of the dead (or undead) engrossed for weeks.

I have to confess that I was thoroughly indoctrinated into the Catholic religion at a young age with the Catholic School, strict Catholic parents, and 9 yards of Catholic guilt and I am not about to change my opinion of what happens after you “bite the dust.” But I do wish my religious upbringing had been less narrow on the topic of death. I can remember very distinctively a Jewish friend’s dad dieing when I was young and not understanding her process of mourning. (Noyes lists Shiva under S). I couldn't understand why her mirrors were covered. It made me uncomfortable when I should have been focused less on my own comfort level and more on comforting my friend.

I understand why my parents didn’t discuss death. Undeniably, no one likes to talk about death. We even avoid saying the actual word. Under the letter E, Noyes lists some of the popular euphemisms for death including “passed on”, “kicked the bucket”, and my personal favorite – “pushing up daisies”. We certainly don’t need euphemisms for discussing birth and you will find far more books on pregnancy and the birth of a new baby. Why are we so well-educated on how life starts, but procrastinate talking about death until our child’s pet dies or even worse a beloved family member? Why not talk about dying BEFORE it happens?

From A to Z, Noyes resists the temptation to impart her own beliefs. (You can see from the above that I could not resist the same temptation.) Her impartiality is what really honors the dearly departed. Only in the introduction do we get a glimpse into how the author began her research when she writes, “Life matters because it’s on loan.”

I personally found Noyes brave approach to unmasking death illustrated perfectly by the epitaph she found on an 1813 grave stone:

‘Lie still sweet babe & take thy rest
God call’d you home He thought it best ‘

This month, one lucky newsletter subscriber will win Encyclopedia of the End by Deborah Noyes. If you are not a newsletter subscriber, sign up here. The winner will be announced on Monday. The newsletter is going out soon...promise. This month I am featuring the most scandalous hats throughout history. And stay tuned for next week when I will be featuring the most famous maker of the dead – The life of Marie Tussaud

Enjoy your day on loan!

Love Struck

I am about as giddy as a love struck troubadour to receive A Great Buddy Award from Ms. Lucy over at Enchanted by Josephine, Cinderalla at World of Royalty and Catherine Delors over at Versailles and more. These three blogs really set the bar high.

I know everyone has probably heard the psycho mumble jumble surrounding blogging – “internet relationships aren’t real” and “they interfere with real relationships.” bla bla bla. ok so maybe I won’t ask any of the following people for cash, love advice or a spare kidney, but I can learn from these people and share my passion for history…something I can’t always do with the very people who would give me a kidney.

The following are a mixture of BCs (Blogging crushes) – blogs I recently fell in love with and BBFs (Blogging Best Friends) – blogs I read regularly.

BiblioOdyssey – Paul
Marie Anoinette Gossip Guide - Lauren
Duchess of Devonshire Gossip Guide -Heather Carroll
Scandalous Women –Elizabeth Keri Mahon
My Napoleon Obsession - Carmi Cimicata
Tea at Trianon – Elena Maria Vidal
Prima la Musica – Mozart’s Offical Weblog
The Virtual Dime Museum - Lidian
Wonders and Marvels – Holly Tucker
Writing the Renaissance – Julianne Douglas

Here’s what award winners are supposed to do:
1. Put the logo on your blog.
2. Add a link to the person who awarded you.
3. Award up to ten other blogs.
4. Add links to those blogs on yours.
5. Leave a message for your awardees on their blogs.

I have a great book giveaway this month too. Encylopedia of the End by Deborah Noyes. So make sure you are a newsletter subscriber to be automatically entered to win. A Review of Noyes' fascinating book is coming soon...

IF: Contained Rats

I have been reading through Henry Mayhew’s account of the working class in Victorian London and came across this fascinating story of Jack Black. Jack Black was the “official” rat catcher to Queen Victoria. He peddled rat poison throughout the streets of London and always carried a large cage of rats (much larger than what is shown here). Jack was rather fearless in handling his rats and would even kill them in front of live audiences while demonstrating the potency of his rat poison.


Jack also collected rats for a curious entertainment popularized in Victorian London called Ratting which was basically dropping rats into a big pit to watch a “pit dog” rip them to shreds. Sounds rather dull to me, but to Victorian kids…it was the most fun they would have all week.

But don’t think Jack hated rats. He actually kept some rats as pets and bred white rats - a mutation in Victorian times. Jack then sold these white rats to highborn ladies who thought that if a rat was white…well then it just didn’t count as vermin. Rumor has it that he even sold one of his pet rats to Beatrice Potter who later based her character of Samuel Whiskers on Jack’s rat. Clearly, this story has to be a smear campaign because you can see Mr. Whiskers is a cute, little brown mouse and not a disease-spreading rat. The proof lies in Mr. Whisker's attire. Everyone knows that rats do not wear pants.

Anyway, my painting is no Samuel Whiskers, but I wanted to do some sort of caricature of Jack and his rats. Let me know what you think.

Sources and Further Reading:
Mayhew, Henry. London Labour and the London Poor, Volume 3. New York, NY : Dover Publications, 1968

Cucumbers and Toast

Here is a fun interactive site for teachers covering the history of the English language. Click on the microphone and you can even hear what language sounded like in each time period. Who would have thought that the word “cucumber” got a lot of play during the Anglo Saxon invasions but “toast” is a Renaissance invention? Aren’t those BBC people clever? Answer: Aye.

No Bailouts for Philip the Fair

I have a special treat today for readers - a break from my incoherent mumblings. Please welcome Kelly Kilpatrick as our guest blogger. Take it away Kelly....

In the current US economy, there has been much talk and discussion about the government bailing out big businesses who failed to practice due diligence in a variety of ways. During the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, King Philip the Fair governed over France yet needed bailouts of his own to keep up with his thirst for war.

Philip the Fair was by all standards an unscrupulous man who would do anything to further his agenda. Fighting with the English and helping with the waning Crusades helped drive Philip’s need for money and Papal help from Pope Clement V. Philip basically told Clement what he wanted, and forced the Pope to work with him in his schemes to gain money by any means necessary.

One of Philip the Fair’s first attempts to secure money for himself and the crown involved arresting Jews in order to seize their assets. Later on, Philip actually levied taxes against French clergy for half of their annual income, which ultimately turned into a diplomatic battle with the papacy, ending in the inability to pass church assets along to the French crown.

One of Philip’s major financiers of wars was the organization known as the Knights Templar. Over the course of many years, Philip found himself greatly indebted to the Knights, so much so that he actually conspired with Pope Clement V to have all Templars in France rounded up and arrested on trumped up charges in order to seize the Order’s sizeable holdings.

On Friday October 13, 1307—a day that is still considered unlucky to this day—Philip’s men arrested as many Templars as they could in one of the largest organized arrests in history. Unfortunately for Philip, the Templars must have caught wind of the plan, because the Templar treasury was empty and has to this day failed to have been located.

Things didn’t end so well for Philip the Fair; he later tried to expel all of the Jews in France because of their lending practices, and then went back on that as well. He died within a year of a curse that was supposedly put on him by the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, who was burned at the stake before being properly tried. Within a decade, his bloodline ended after unsuccessful attempts by his sons to rule France.

By-line:
This post was contributed by Kelly Kilpatrick, who writes on the subject of phd American history. She invites your feedback at kellykilpatrick24 at gmail dot com

A New Year's Tribute to Fat Clothes

Happy New Year to all my fellow history geeks! It’s now time to write those resolutions down and by far the most common New Year's resolution is to drop a few pounds. Every year, between January 1st and January 15th, hoards of people find new religion at their local gym. But sometime by February…poof! I can use the treadmill in peace again. Maybe it’s the extra calories giving us an energy boost. For me, the first week of January is not a time to head to the gym, but a time to reach for the baggy clothes. Wait…here comes the history part….

Thus this first post of 2009 is dedicated to my favorite royal fat clothes throughout history.

The Houppelande
I have always loved this painting by Jan Van Eyck (above) recording the happy couple’s wedding with a new baby on the way. If the Dutch had hallmark cards, this image would have fit perfectly. Unfortunately, the painting is not a wedding portrait and it is doubtful that the wife is pregnant. The woman in the picture is just sporting the hottest 15th century fashion called the houppelande. The houppelande was worn by both men and women to emphasize a rounded stomach. It created this "bun in the oven" look by padding and layers of cloth. The beauty ideal of the time was a sloping S–shape with rounded shoulders. Just imagine medieval moms telling their kids to slouch a little more instead of standing up straight.


Steal the look:
You don’t have to be pregnant to look like a 16th century fertility goddess. Remember the MuMu? (spelling?). Slouch optional.

The Pregnant Man look
Seeing a man’s stomach fat bulging over his belt is right up there with butt cracks and wife beater t-shirts, but in the 16th century a little paunch was oh-so sexy. Shown here is Elizabethan heart-throb Robert Dudley proudly posing with his protruding gut. Unfortunately, I doubt Dudley had this much to offer. He is just wearing a 16th century peascod. The peascod used padding and horse hair to mimic a curved peapod-shaped belly bulge. Ladies...eat your hearts out.

Steal the look:
This one is not tough. Just grab a pair of pants that are one size two small, lift the excess fat over the belt and enjoy! No picture needed. Just google "muffin top." Tight hose optional.

Henry VIII – king of fat clothes
How fat was Henry VIII? You will have to read The Raucous Royals to find out, but I will give this hint: the clothes were not helping. Henry started a whole fashion craze for padded clothing with monstrously big shoulders.


Steal the look:
Dig into your closet and find that 80’s power suit. If you want an extra boost then you can even add the Velcro shoulder pads. (come on…you know you have them!) Brooding look optional.

Do these Pumpkin Breeches make my butt look fat?
You have to love fashion statements named after vegetables. The pumpkin breeches gave 16th century men some junk in their trunk and also hid the family jewels. The purpose of these man-skirts was to make the wearer's legs look lean in comparison to their big hips. In the 16th century, a man's legs were the most sexual body part of their body and they were not afraid to wear puffy skirts to show them off.


Steal the look:
Dig really deep deep into that closet and pull out your parachute pants and voila… it’s hammer time! Dance skills unnecessary.

The Bell of the Ball
You might think it odd that I have included the crinoline hoop in my list of fat clothes. The whole purpose of the bell-shape was to create an illusion of a smaller waste. It served its purpose so well that crinolines caused the demise of stays and corsets. But like all good fashions, this one only worked on some people. Queen Victoria refused to wear one calling them, 'indelicate, expensive, dangerous and hideous.'¹

The always sensible queen had a point. Indelicate. Yes. When the wearer sat down she risked her skirts flying back up in her face exposing her underpants. Women couldn't even sit in their carriages and instead had to kneel on the floor on the way to the ball. Expensive. Certainly. The average crinoline cost 6s 6d in 1861 and required an obscene amount of fabric. Dangerous. Definitely. Several women caught on fire when their puffy skirts came too near the fire. And forget using the fire escape. Woman wearing crinolines could barely fit through a door. The average room could only hold 2-3 crinoline-clad ladies. The hems of some crinolines even reached four yards around the bottom. Hideous. Sometimes. They made short and stout woman look like a merry-go-round ride.

But like all good fat clothes, crinolines did serve one purpose - the steel structure and layers of fabric were really warm in the winter months.²

Steal the look:

Cut a hole in the top of the largest bird cage that you can find. Attach to waste with string. Put on any large skirt. Then put on 10-20 more skirts until desired puffiness is achieved.

These are just a few examples of unflattering fashions throughout history. What's your favorite fashion slip? Did your suits ever have shoulder pads? Did you ever wear neon? How about leg warmers? I will confess that my prom dress had puffy sleeves bigger than my head.

This month the Raucous Royals newsletter will be featuring the most scandalous hats throughout history. Sign up here to receive the newsletter. Happy New Year!

(1) p. 173, Picard.
(2) The first crinolines were made from horse hair and not metal. The word crin comes from the French word meaning "horsehair."

Sources and Recommended Reading

Picard, Liza. Victorian London: The Tale of a City 1840-1870. London, UK: St. Martin's Press, 2007.
Pendergast, Sara and Tom. Fashion, Costume and Culture, Clothing, Headgear, Body Decorations, and Footwear through the ages, Detroit, MI : UXL, c2004.
Koda, Harold . Extreme beauty : the body transformed, New York, NY : Metropolitan Museum of Art, c2001.
Laver, James, Costume and fashion : a concise history, New York, NY : Oxford University Press, 1983.