The Old Mistress

Most people would never go near a city during a plague outbreak, but on July 12th, 1624, the great portrait painter, Anthony van Dyck feared nothing in his quest to reach Palermo, Italy. The 25 year-old virtuoso had a very important meeting with a prominent noble woman and was determined to paint her portrait. (The portrait he completed from this meeting is below.)

During the visit, van Dyck listened reverently as the old woman spoke of her bygone days as a lady-in-waiting in Philip II’s Spanish court. She squinted up at the young painter, trying to focus her half-blind eyes on his form, and advised him not “to get too close, too high or too low” because it would bring out the shadows in her wrinkles. (1) Van Dyck, grateful for her tutelage, recorded it diligently in his sketchbook—the only page to contain words.

Did this 96-year old bitty really have the right to give painting tips to one of the most talented portrait painters of the 17th century?

She most certainly did. For Van Dyck’s subject was not some crotchety, geriatric patron recording her portrait for posterity. She was Sofonisba Anguissola, one of the greatest portrait painters of the Renaissance.

Sofonisba was born in Cremona, Italy around 1532, in an age when most women were tied to a spinning wheel instead of a canvas. Believed to posses "a male soul that had been born in one of female sex," female artists were the bearded ladies of their day. (2) Yet, from a young age Sofonisba showed a spirit for painting that transcended what her contemporary John Knox identified as women's "weak, frail, impatient, feeble, and foolish" nature. 

We can thank Sofonisba's father for his daughter's artistic education. Amilcare Anguissola was not your typical Renaissance dad. He encouraged all six of his daughters to develop their artistic, musical and language talents. Educating daughters was not unheard of in the 16th century, but it was certainly not common. Moreover, painting was not considered a profession for nobility because painters were still viewed as craftsman. (Michelangelo's father railed at him for becoming a painter.) Highborn ladies simply did not paint. Needlework was fine. Music part of a lady's polish. But mixing paint was for paupers.

Yet despite this social bias, Sofonisba's art education flourished in Bernardino Campi's studio when she was just fourteen years old. Typically, a painter would be apprenticed to a master for about five to seven years. During that time, the painter would learn how to mix pigments, prepare the canvas or panel, basic drawing skills and do many, many nude male studies. Similar to today's art foundation, learning how to the paint the nude body was de rigueur for any developing artist. As a woman, Sofonisba would never be given this foundation, but would instead have to rely upon what she knew of her own anatomy. I have often wondered if Sofonisba and her sisters would have dared to paint each other nude in private the way Michelangelo and Leonardo secretly painted cadavers?

One of Sofonisba's first assignments under Campi was to copy his Pieta. (shown here). Even at a young age Sofonisba was developing her own style. There is some of Leonardo's smoky background, and Campi's strong chiaroscuro, but Sofonisba's interpretation of this popular subject seems more doleful or delicate and her dark background forces the viewer to focus on the emotion in the painting.

In 1549, Campi moved to Milan and Sofonisba then studied under Bernardino Gatti for about three years. She then left for Rome where she met the rock star of Renaissance painting - the aging Michelangelo Buonarroti.


Michelangelo's Art Challenge
Many of the great masters like Michelangelo would circulate their sketches to be copied by other artists and admired by patrons. According to a letter from Michelangelo's friend, Tommaso Cavalieri, Michelangelo, had seen a drawing done by Sofonisba of a smiling girl, and "said that he would have liked to see a weeping boy, as a subject more difficult to draw." (3) Sofonisba took up Michelangelo's challenge and sketched the picture above of her little brother, - Asdrubale being bitten by a crab. This sketch was greatly admired and became part of Vasari's collection of drawings, Libro dei disegni and would later inspire Caravaggio's Boy Being Bitten by a Lizard. Sofonisba's completed painting is below.

After her stay in Rome, Sofonisba left for Milan and continued getting commissions for portraits as her reputation grew. One of these commissions was to paint the Duke of Alba (this paintng is lost). Alba was so impressed with Sofonisba's work that he commissioned three more portraits and recommended her to Philip II of Spain.

Then Tudor history changed the course of Sofonisba's life when Philp II's wife, Mary Tudor died. Philip's second marriage was arranged with Elizabeth of Valois, (later to be called Isabel) the daughter of the French king Henri II and queen Catherine de Medici. To celebrate their wedding, a tournament was arranged with several festivities to follow. But during the joust, Henri suffered a wound to the eye and died. Suddenly, Elizabeth was journeying to a new country while grieving her father. The Duke of Alba recommended Sofonisba as a lady-in-waiting to Elizabeth, probably knowing the new queen would be lonely in the somber Spanish court. Elizabeth was also learning how to paint and Alba knew that Sofonisba's instruction would be a comfort to her.

At 27, Sofonisba was a veritable spinster when she became a lady-in-waiting to the new queen of Spain.  It was odd that her father had not arranged a marriage for her by this time. Perhaps Amilcare could not afford a dowry. Or perhaps Sofonisba shared the same beliefs toward marriage as her teacher, Michelangelo who said of his art, "I have only too much of a wife in my art...and she has given me enough trouble." (4) In an age when many women died in childbirth, a spinster's life may have seemed like a more glorified path for someone of such immense talent.

Unfortunately, little is known about Sofonisba's time in the Spanish court because so many of her paintings have been destroyed in fires or have been attributed to other painters over the years. Sofonisba gave the young queen painting lessons, played the clavichord with her and was responsible for ordering fabrics. During this friendship, Sofonisba painted Elizabeth of Valois (shown here). Many of Sofonisba's painting (including this one) have been attributed to Philip's court painter, Alonso Sanchez Coella and several portraits are still in debate.

During the Renaissance, it was customary for a portrait to be made by one artist and then copied by subsequent artists. To add to the confusion, paintings could often be a collaborative effort where one painter would paint the head while another would paint the clothing and perhaps another background. (I wish I had such an assistant...I hate painting backgrounds.) Unfortunately, we have no record of Sofonisba having an assistant, but Philip did hire Coella to copy several of Sofonisba's works. This painting may have been a copy of a lost original.

Elizabeth gave birth to two children and the first, the Infanta Isabella Clara was to become a lifelong friend to Sofonisba and Philip's favorite daughter. (shown here. She is the one of the left) Sadly, Elizabeth's third pregnancy became her undoing. In 1568, she died during a miscarriage after suffering from several weeks of nephritis (possibly a kidney infection caused by her pregnancy?). Sofonisba must have been heartbroken over the death of her confidant and queen, as was Philip. The workaholic king was said to have loved Elizabeth the most out of any of his wives and he went into a deep mourning after her death.

Philip's third wife was Anne of Austria, (shown left) the daughter of Maximilian II, described as, "a plain girl with a good complexion, gentle, kind, dull, and as devout as Philip himself".(5) Around 1570, shortly before Philip's marriage, he arranged a marriage for Sofonisba to a noble Sicilian named Don Fabrizio de Moncada. Sofonisba may have painted the below marriage portrait of her and Don Fabrizio, but the portrait is currently attributed to an unknown artist. The women in the portrait is the correct age and she does have the exact same dimpled chin and ears as Sofonisba's earlier self-portraits.

Sofonisba and her husband stayed in the Spanish court for about 18 years until around 1578 when they traveled back to Palermo. The following year, Don Fabrisio died from a "violent disease," possibly another plague traveling through Italy. Sofonisba was then recalled to Spain, but she had other ideas. She decided she was going home to Cremona. The rest of Sofonisba's life could read like a Harlequin Romance except many of the details of her life are lost. What we do know is that on her journey home, she fell in love with a much younger ship's captain named Orazio Lomellino. Around 1580, they were married and moved to Genoa. The marriage had to be a happy one because it lasted 40 years.

In Sofonisba's later years, she painted several religious painting including Saint Francis, Lot with his Daughters, and Saint John the Baptist in the Desert. Unfortunately, these paintings are lost. The painting shown here, Madonna Nursing Her Child was once attributed to Luca Cambiaso until it was cleaned in 1967 and a faint signature emerged - "Sofonisba Lomellina Anguissola Pinxit, 1588". Art historians have described this painting as "Mary looks down lovingly at her son". (6) It could be that it has lost some details in the restoration process, but I just don't see that. To me, Sofonisba's Madonna looks like she is wistfully day dreaming and not really paying attention to the baby at her breast. As any nursing mother knows, if you are not totally focused on a baby when nursing....they can sense it. If you look closer, that baby is just about to do that thing babies do to get their mom's attention. ouch!

A painting that I think better shows Sofonisba's attention to human emotion is Holy Family with Saints Anne and John. (shown below)

I love the way the older woman is looking at the child. She seems to be reflecting on her youth. Notice the man in the background. Could he be a reminder of time passing? And look at the adorable little dog curled up in the corner. Sleeping dogs typically are incorporated into Renaissance paintings to honor the deceased. Perhaps this painting was an ode to one of her younger sisters or maybe the children she never had. (7)

Sofonisba later retired to Palermo when her failing eye sight prevented her from painting. During her retirement, van Dyck painted his famous portrait of her that would later be copied by several artists. Annibale Caro said that, "there is nothing I desire more than an image of the artist herself, so that in a single work I can exhibit two marvels, one the work, the other the artist." (8) He was never to get his wish. The following year, Sofonisba died in 1625.

Sofonisba sketches continued to circulate throughout Europe and would  inspire many other female artists including Lavina Fontana, Narbara Longhi, and Fede Galizia. Vasari said of Sofonisba that she, "has worked with deeper study and greater grace than any woman of our times at problems of design, for not only has she learned to draw, paint, and copy from nature, and reproduce most skillfully works by other artists, but she has on her own painted some most rare and beautiful paintings.”(9)

Sofonisba was one the first painters to break her subjects out of the stately and cold portrayals of court paintings. One of her most famous paintings, Lucia, Minerva and Europa Anguissola Playing Chess is a ground breaking work of art because portraits typically did not portray real people interacting in a family setting. We take for granted today the spontaneous family snap shots that capture smiling faces and playful interactions. Renaissance people had nothing similar.

Currently, Wikipedia states “van Dyck and his exact contemporary Velázquez were the first painters of pre-eminent talent to work mainly as Court portraitists.” If you could step back in time and ask van Dyck if this statement was true, I think he would have a more humble answer. He could have told you about Sofonisba Anguissola, a protrait painter he met in his youth, who inspired him and countless other artists to bring grace and sensitivity to Renaissance portrait painting.

Notes:
(1) Perlingieri. p. 204
(2) Perlingieri. p. 77
(3) Perlingieri. p. 72
(4) Vasari. p. 202
(5) Perlingieri. p. 143
(6) Perlingieri. p. 178
(7) Sofonisba's sister, Lucia Anguissola was also a talented painter, but many of her works are lost. 
(8) Jacobs. p. 1-2
(9) Vasari p. 343


Sources and Futher Reading:
Vasari, Giorgio. Lives of the most eminent painters, Volume 2, New York: NY, Simon & Schuster, 1946.
Perlingieri, Ilya Sandrea. Sofonisba Anguissola, The First Great Woman Artist of the Renaissance, New York: NY, Rizzoli, 1992.
Charles de Tolnay. "Sofonisba Anguissola and Her Relations with Michelangelo" The Journal of the Walters Art Gallery, Vol. 4 (1941), pp. 114-119.
Frederika H. Jacobs. "Woman's Capacity to Create: The Unusual Case of Sofonisba Anguissola", Renaissance Quarterly, Vol. 47, No. 1 (Spring, 1994), pp. 74-101.
A nice collection of Sofonisba works can be seen  here and also at the Artchive

Ancient World in London Bloggers Challenge 2: The Most Important Site in London

The next Heritage Key blog challenge is on the most important sites in London. More details here>>

Check out last week's challenge on London's worst invaders

Another giveaway...earrings fit for a queen

What could possibly be better than curling up with a new book? Curling up with a good book while looking fabulous.

I have another jewelry giveaway this month complements of LuShae Jewelry. The winner will be able to pick from any of the following earrings or rings. That's right...any jewelry your heart desires! I have my eye on these Eternity Hoop earrings.

But whoever said diamonds are forever, didn't mean these earrings. You have until March 5th to enter. And I have finally found a use for my new "followers" gadget and Twitter account that I set up last week. It tells me who comes to the blog and the people that put up with my senseless babbling, awful spelling, and terrible grammar on a regular basis should be rewarded. So only followers of either the blog or my Tweets are eligible to win.*

Sorry, US residents only for this one.
* yes, this is my shameless bribe to have more "friends" thus I am putting my confession in very small print because it is well...shameless.

The Masked Lady

I found this great post over at Two Nerdy History Girls about 17th and 18th century masks. Below is a watercolor from Habits de France published in 1581.

In 16th century France, these full masks were worn to protect the woman's face from the wind and sun. Kind of Silence of the Lambs creepy huh? I doubt ladies could breath or even speak very easily under these masks. But maybe that was the point.

More Africans in Art for Black History Month

Here is a great post from Catherine Delors on Jean-Baptiste Belley. You might not have heard of him (at least I didn't) but he led a fascinating life.

When I do school visits, I often play a game where I ask the kids to guess the history of the person from the portrait. I ask them things like:  What do you think he/she is thinking at this moment? What is the meaning behind some of the surrounding objects? (Can they find some of the hidden objects?) What time period did he/she live? And then I tell them the story behind the person.

Kids love to play art detective and it's a great way to introduce a historical figure that they might not be familiar with. And when it comes to interpretting art...there really is no wrong answer. I think Jean-Baptiste Belley is a great candidate for this excersise.

Africans in Medieval and Renaissance Art

Teachers this month are probably scrambling to come up with interesting curriculum to celebrate Black History Month. I am guessing that “Africans in Medieval and Renaissance Art” is probably not going to be a hot topic (especially in the US). But there is a story there and it is one that can be told through some beautiful images. By 1505, there were as many as 140,000-170,000 Africans in Europe. Many of these people were brought to Italy from the Ottoman Empire and as this section from the Victoria Albert museum points outs, not all Africans were depicted as slaves. Below is the Adoration of the Magi.

One of my favorite Raucous Royals – Duke Alessandro de’Medici was rumored to be of Moorish descent. Nicknamed, “il Moro” (the Moor), he was the son of Guilio de Medici and a Moorish slave.*  His daughter, the beautiful Giuila de Medici is believed to be depicted below as a child with her Grandmother, Maria Salviati.

Throughout the 15th and 17th centuries, African children were frequently portrayed in portraiture as no more than exotic pets and status symbols to the elite. Believe it or not, they were often shown next to an aristocratic lady to make the female sitter’s skin appear whiter. (shown below is Louise de Keroualle and her Page)

And here is Titian's portrait of Laura dei Dianti and her Page:

It may sound crazy to use a dark skinned child to make yourself look whiter, but have you ever noticed that today’s pop divas always have more voluptuous back up singers and dancers behind them?

Future exhibit on Africans in Renaissance Art
One of the most frustrating aspects of this topic is that the identity of many of these people is lost to history. I am really excited for an upcoming exhibition in Baltimore – Face to Face: The African Presence in Renaissance Europe. In October, the Walker museum will attempt to reconstruct some of these lost faces.

*He was really recognized as Lorenzo II de Medici’s son, but I am not buying it.

The Hangman's Muff

I was recently over at author Catherine Delors blog where she posted this beautiful Fragonard painting L'hiver (Winter). Most people would focus on the poor child who is obviously getting the snot beat out of her by old man winter, but empathy went right out the window for me. I just wanted her muff. I had one similar as a child and I want it back.

You might think of muffs as a very feminine fashion, but in the early 1700s men wore muffs just as much as women. They were usually cloth muffs decorated with tons and tons of ribbons until one savvy Parisian furrier came up with an ingenious plan to give his business a boost. He gave one of those inferior cloth muffs to the local hangman. In the 18th century, no one was allowed to wear what the hangman wore so by wearing his new gift, he made cloth muffs go the way of parachute pants. Undeterred, fashionistas flocked to their furriers to get nice, warm, fur muffs.

Flash forward over 200 years later to a little girl wearing her white muff to church every Sunday. I really miss that muff. Will someone please bring back the muff?

The Raucous Royals is now on Twitter

I am on twitter now! (see fancy new twitter button on sidebar). Actually, I joined a long time ago, but never logged in to my account. At first I thought twitter was the same thing as that "what are you doing section" on facebook. On most days, I can go without insightful comments like, "my cat is licking his tail. Going to eat some broccoli soup now."  It's not that I don't care about a friend's brocolli soup filled days. It's that I am not sure what I am supposed to do with the information.

But now I am hooked. I see twitter's purpose - links! Everytime I come across an interesting article while doing book research, like this one. I can just post it as a link. (Don't ask me how I ended up on "monkey prostitution" ...I just did.

I promise that in the future, links will be more history related. I just really like monkeys.

Quiz time: Can you guess the most deadly invader in London’s history?

The proud city of London has been brought to its knees by many invaders, but one particular assailant packed the Muhammed Ali of punches to local residents. This mystery invader could rip flesh from bones with its bare teeth at a force of 7000 pounds per square inch. They could scale the tallest fortification and fall fifty feet without any harm. They felt no remorse invading the homes of helpless women and children and they laughed in the face of danger (1) This invader may sound fictitious, but it was very real. And much like Muhammed Ali’s famous "rope-a-dope" strategy, just when Londoners thought they had it beaten…. it came back year after year and multiplied in strength and numbers.

What was this insidious raider upon the peaceful streets of London?

Scroll down for answer?





Keep scrolling







Work it





Work it





You just burned 3.5 calories,








Ok I made that up but the rest is 100% factual.












Answer: RATS. Or more precisely, Rattus rattus otherwise known as the black rat.

In the 14th century, rats were as ubiquitous as Central Park pigeons. You could hardly turn a street corner without a rat’s beady eyes staring you down. London had become such a cesspool of rodents that an English-French Dictionary warned travelers that they would enjoy their stay in London as long as they didn’t mind the “great pack of rats and mice.”

Most people would blame London's rat problem on the streets being so dirty, but rats are actually pretty clean rodents. They are very similar to cats and will incessantly lick their fur. In fact, rats clean themselves far more than the average 14th century person ever did. (if you consider rat spittle clean.)

The true problem was food, not filth. London's sanitation methods gave the rat had an all-night buffet of every food choice imaginable. Slaughter houses killed animals on the streets and left their decaying bodies to rot amongst the stench. Barber surgeons bled their patients and then dumped the blood into the narrow street. Wild pigs and dogs roamed freely and fell dead in ditches. “Rakers”, the trash collectors of their day, were employed to cart the rubbish away, but they tended to fall into the drunk and lazy category and often simply deposited waste in neighboring wards or hoped the rain would wash it into the Thames (rats btw, are excellent swimmers and have even been known to survive the good old toilet flush). Fines were instituted and often ignored. London’s population had become so large that it was simply too difficult to keep the rat's food supply down.

These were good times to be a rat.

Londoners vs. the Rats
Londoners fought back with futile measures using poisons such as hellebore root. Unfortunately, rats are extremely smart creatures and will actually learn over time what is poisonous and then warn their rat buddies not to eat the poison by urinating on it. (rats don't eat feces or urine...even they have standards.) Other rat removal methods only aggravated the problem, such as a popular 17th century remedy that advised housewives to, "Fry a sponge in butter and hang it by a string, and the rats will forsake the room."(2) I don't know about you, but I have never seen a rat forsake butter.

When poisons and butter didn’t work, Londoners employed “rat catchers” (shown above right) to round up rats Holocaust style. But rats are also amazing breeders. Left to their own vices, two black rats breeding for three years can produce 329 million offspring. That’s a lot of baby rats biting the toes of London’s children. But sadly, the rat’s true handmaiden of death was not in its bite, but on its back.

A bad day for ratsWhat could possibly be worse than a fat, healthy rat crossing your path in 14th century London? A sick plague infested rat crossing your path in 14th century London. For hidden in its fur, Mr. Rat carried one of the deadliest forms of germ warfare known to man—Bubonic Plague. The Victorians christened it “The Black Death” and for good reason. This disease was truly dark. It killed four out of five people it infected and usually in less than four days. Symptoms began with fever, chills and headaches. That was the fun part. On the last days of the disease, puss filled sores called buboes erupted like walnut sized zits. In the 14th century, the plague annihilated at least 1/3 of London’s population (about 200 people per day) and some historians estimate closer to 1/2 of the population in other areas. The death toll became so great that church bells stopped ringing to honor the dead. Husbands abandoned wives. Wives abandoned husbands. Children were orphaned over night. And then there was the little problem with how to bury so many corpses. Grave diggers got lazy and stacked bodies on top of each other in shallow graves only for the dogs to dig up the corpses the next day. Imagine seeing grandma's body dragged through the silent streets by a hungry dog. And do you think the rats cared? Well, plague was not any picnic for them either.

Some rat sympathy
In the 19th century, Robert Koch described plague as, “a disease of rats in which men participate”. (3) Koch was correct. Plague killed rats too, but there was more to the story. Plague’s true villain was a deadly bacterium inside the rat's bloodstream called Y. Pestis who chose rats as its primary disease vector. It was a smart decision, not only because rats were so abundant, but because the rat had a lethal conspirator—X. cheopis (rat fleas).(4)

The dangers of flea vomit
Here is how plague worked: the rat fleas fed on the rat’s blood and became infected with Y. Pestis. This infection resulted in a blockage of undigested blood in the flea’s foregut causing the flea to vomit the plague bacilli into its victim with each bite. As a bonus side effect, nutrients were prevented from ever reaching the flea and without any nutrients…14th century Londoners had some very hungry rat fleas on their hands. Have you have ever met a hungry rat flea? Let’s hope you never do. When starving, they are not particularly picky eaters. After their rat host dies, cats, dogs, bunnies, and cute little medieval boys and girls taste just as yummy.


The Raucous Royals against the Rats
People throughout the 14th -19th century were unaware of Y. Pestis, but they did understand the connection between debris, disease and rats. Several royals fought back against rat invaders. Edward III issued edicts demanding that Londoners clean up their act. (The king was later to lose his favorite daughter, Princess Joan to the Black Death.) Henry VIII fought back with vinegar, demanding that the palace walls be scrubbed daily to remove bugs and vermin. Queen Christina of Sweden took a more direct approach and fired four-inch canons equipped with tiny iron balls at rats. Elizabeth I employed her dog rat catchers to remove these pests and Queen Victoria hired not only dogs, but some of the most famous rat catchers in London’s history. Most kings and queens avoided rats by continually moving from palace to palace. If plague broke out, then they simply followed the advice of 14th century plague doctor Guy de Chaulliac of 'go quickly, go far, and return slowly.'(5)

Sure….Blame it on the cows instead
Debate still continues on the true cause of the Black Death, but it is still generally believed that infected rat fleas jumped from rats to humans and then….BAM you were trapped in a Grien painting. (ouch....my hair!) However, several questions have caused debate about the rat's role in the 14th century plague.

First, there were no reports of medieval rats dieing. Rat fleas typically bite humans when the rat population is decreased so dead rats piling up was a clear sign that rat fleas would be looking for their next meal. Some have speculated that the death of rats went unnoticed because dead rats were such a frequent occurrence in London.

Second, the Black Death never subsided in winter months when rat fleas obviously would not be as active. In fact, some of the highest death rates were in December and January.

Third, the disease spread so quickly and rats are not exactly the adventurous type. As long as they have food, they tend to stay in the same 100 feet radius their whole lives (approximately nine months). Some scientists have speculated that the human flea would have done a far better job spreading plague than the rat flea because humans traveled greater distances and would have had more opportunity to spread plague from person to person. Others claim that the human flea contains too few bacilli to spread the disease efficiently.

These questions have led to some rat defending conspiracy theorists. The rat defenders have speculated that the plague was really a deadly form of cattle Anthrax or the Ebola virus. To complicate matters further, plague could be transmitted person to person through the air, called pneumonic plague and this more virulent form of the plague did not require any rats. So once the plague got going, the rats were not entirely to blame.

All ends well for plague infested London
Some historians like to put a positive spin on catastrophes. I am not one of those people, but everyone wants a happy ending, so here goes:

There was a benefit that the black rat left in its wake. Plague deaths caused Europe to have a labor shortage and the surviving peasants could now demand higher wages for menial labor. This eventually led to the collapse of serfdom and freed up capital. In other words, with everyone dead and buried, the people left standing got a pay raise. Some even argue that the Renaissance wouldn't have happened without all this fire and brimstone urging progress and democracy forward. From a biological standpoint, those who survived may have also developed immunity to the plague and this immunity is identical to HIV immunity. So if you have an ancestor that survived the plague, you could be immune to HIV. Now, go thank a rat.

In his recent book, Ian Mortimer reminds us that if you had an ancestor that didn't survive the plague than you might not appreciate someone talking about the benefits of their death. I liken it to a historian 100 years from now writing that 9/11 was a good thing because the rubble got recycled into more efficient buildings. Further putting the Black Death into perspective Mortimer writes:

"The deaths in 1348-49 are so numerous that the statistics are much easier to talk about than the individual tragedies...If anything, it proves the value of virtual history—of understanding historical events as lived experiences, as opposed to impersonal facts." (6)

Rats Today: Just as lovable
Today the black rat is far less common than its much larger cousin, the brown rat. (The brown rat is the city rat you see today scampering around the corner after you have just finished a big, expensive dinner in a fancy restaurant.) Rats still cause all sorts of raucous, mostly from their gluttonous diets. They eat crops destroying valuable grain. They eat through clothing. They have killed off over 19 species of birds in their quests for eggs. (Rats really like eggs.) Heck, they will even eat right through a lead pipe. But probably the most annoying thing they eat is history. Most of British History's most important documents are illegible because they are half-eaten by rats.

Some think rats are sort of cute and keep them as pets. Today we have "fancy" rats and whole organizations dedicated to loving rats. Rat pet owners say their rats are very similar to dogs - easily trained, curious, lovable and extremely sociable. (If you get a pet rat than you have to get him a girlfriend/boyfriend. Rats hate to be alone.) Rats are sort of cute...from a very safe distance.

Plague Today: Just as lethal
The plague continued to wreak havoc throughout the 14th century and made a spectacular appearance in the The Great Plague of 1665 and again in 1890, but none of these plagues matched the destruction of the Black Death. Y. Pestis is still a very real problem today. About 3000 cases of Bubonic Plague are reported worldwide. In America, the disease can be spread by rats, skunks, prairie dogs, squirrels, chipmunks and even cats. Fortunately, the plague can now be cured by antibiotics, if it is caught it time. Currently, there is no vaccine for the plague.

Stay tuned for a future post on the wackiest plague cures in history to coincide with the release of my next book: I Feel Better with a Frog in my Throat, History's Strangest Cures (October 2010).

Notes:(1) Yes, rats really do laugh. If you tickle their tummy they will make a sort of chirping sound. If you don’t believe me then this scientist who studies rat laughter will.
(2) From Hannah Woolley, A supplement to the queen-like closet. London, 1674.(3)Kelly. P 42
(4) Besides X. cheopis, Y. Pestis can be transmitted by over 31 different flea species, possibly including P. irritans (the human flea).
(5) Mortimer. p 203
(6) Mortimer. p 203
Sources and Further Reading:Black rat image from the Wellcome Library
Bubonic Plague
Marrin, Albert. Oh Rats! The story of rats and people, New York: NY, Dutton, 2006.
Kelly, John. The Great Mortality. An Intimate History of the Black Death, The Most Devastating Plague of all time. New York: NY, Harper Perennial, 2005.
Mortimer, Ian. The Time Traveler's Guide to Medieval England. A Handbook for Visitors to the Fourteenth Century, New York: NY, Touchstone Books, 2008.

Raucous Royals new design

I am still tweaking the new design. It is sort of Alice in Wonderland meets Gothic horror. I have been experimenting with pen and ink lately and forgot how much fun it can be to limit your colors. What do you think? Too dark? Did you like the old design better? Honesty appreciated.

Blog roll
I forgot to save my blogroll so I had to go by memory (huh?) on what was there before. If I accidentally deleted a blog or if you have a blog that you want added then either email me or add your site to the comments below.


Come follow me little children...
I added one of those "follow me" widgets. I am kind of uncomfortable with the whole follow me concept. My first association is a fairytale my grandmother used to enjoy telling - The Pied Piper of Hamlin. The Pied Piper was a bad man. One minute he was solving the rat problem and the next minute he was leading helpless children out to sea. That's what happens when you follow someone.

My next association is my mother harping in my teenage ears, "if your friends jumped off a bridge then would you?" I was taught to always be suspicious of anyone who says "follow me." I am not really sure what the purpose of the follow me gadget is? But I see everyone doing it on their blogs....so it must be good. right? You can't all be crazy bridge jumpers.

A Valentines Serenade for the Single Ladies

There is a reason why Valentines Day shares its name with a martyred saint. It’s a cruel holiday to be single.

If you don't wake up tomorrow to tiny cherubs dancing about your bed throwing roses at your feet and feeding you bon bons, please don’t despair. Winged babies are always up to no good, roses have nasty thorns, and you can buy your own darn chocolate(without anyone noticing just how much chocolate you have consumed in one day).

Instead, imagine that you are a 12th century peasant woman. The medieval dating rule book written by Andreas Capellanus sums up perfectly what you could expect along the lines of romance:

“If you love a peasant woman, praise her and force her–peasants don’t respond to gentle wooing.”

Or take some more modern love advice from Gertrude Stein:

“A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.”

Happy Valentines Day to all the single ladies!*

*And single men... if you forgive me for the blatantly cynical fish quote. I was not talking about you. It's a proven fact that men who read history blogs are the loving and sensitive sorts.

Anne Boleyn Tour, London and Baby Invaders, Raucous Winners

Anne Boleyn Experience 2010
I would give my 6th finger to go on this tour. Here is the description:

"The Anne Boleyn Experience 2010 is exclusive and unique in that it takes Anne Boleyn as its central character and focus and aims to educate tour participants about this mysterious woman and about the times she lived in.

Participants will come away with new knowledge of Anne Boleyn and Tudor England, and will be touched and moved by visiting Anne Boleyn’s final resting place on the anniversary of her death.

Hever Castle
The Anne Boleyn Experience 2010 is the ultimate Anne Boleyn event, being set in Anne Boleyn’s own family home, rather than an anonymous hotel. Hever Castle was also later lived in by Henry VIII’s fourth wife Anne of Cleves. It will be a wonderful experience walking in Anne’s footsteps around the historic castle."

There are only a few spots left! Book Now
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Write History – Win Books! London Invasions Blog Contest
Do you want to win five books of your choice from Thames & Hudson? Or how about 50 credits for use in the HeritageKey virtual reality grid? Right now, you can and all you have to do is answer one question:
Which invader has had the biggest impact on London?

There are certainly many to choose from and you can present your answer in a great many ways, using text, images, video, and audio. Entries must be made as blog entries and submitted before 11:59pm on 21 February 2010.

More information here>>>
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The Winner of the Raucous Book of the Month, Hubbub: Filth, Noise, and Stench in England, 1600-1770 is Gail. Gail I have emailed you and need your snail mail address to get out your prize.

Only newsletter subscribers are entered to win the Raucous Book of the Month. If you are not a newsletter subscriber then you can subscribe here.
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I am a bit behind in my research. I am working on a post about Joan of Arc, Louise Labe, and my favorite mystery Renaissance artist. Still can't get the baby to sleep for more than two hour increments. waaaaaaaa. Two hours is not enough time for me to reach my happy place. If anyone has any magical baby sleep tips, I would love to hear them. Mama is grumpy!

The worst cold weather fashion in history

Yesterday was Groundhog day and of course that chubby, little rodent saw his shadow. Six more weeks of winter to follow. But shadow be damned...I think if someone gave poor, little Punxsutawney Phil a nice, woolly sweater and scarf set then he just might stick around. In New England, we have a saying - There isn't bad weather, just bad clothing choices. Lately, I don't leave the house without my cozy bomber hat. (mine is of course fake fur). Sure, I may look like I am about to drive an Alaskan dog sled to the grocery store, but at least I am warm. Phil is obviously poorly dressed for the task of weather predictions. Which brings me to the history bit...

Throughout history, most people have preferred heavy fabrics in the winter and light fabrics in the summer. But after the French Revolution, staying warm took a back seat to looking fashionable. Ancient Greek styles dominated aristocratic circles, and despite its impracticality, one of the more popular dresses was the diaphanous Chignon a la Grecque popularized by the leading Les Merveilleuses such as Madame Récamier (shown here). *

The dress featured flowing muslin fabrics cut in an empire waste and decolletage that was sure to leave the wearer bitterly longing for the warmer fashions of the pre-Revolutionary era. Some women were even rumored to wet their dresses down to get that extra clingy, weather-be-dammed, wet t-shirt look. In this fashion plate to the right, this lovely dame is clearly folding her arms because she left her cloak at home and now must endure a night of goosebumps.

Americans were always quick to keep up with French fashions, but the Chignon a la Grecque was far too scandalous for even the most daring Washington fashionistas. Nevertheless, Elizabeth Patterson (shown to the left) didn't let a little thing like partial-nudity dissuade her from trying the latest trends. Elizabeth had married Jerome Bonaparte, Napoleon's younger brother and was determined to make her entrance into Washington unforgettable. She certainly succeeded. Men crowded around Elizabeth to catch a glimpse of her half-naked body beneath the translucent fabrics. Her audacious attire almost got her shunned from polite society when hostesses insisted that she could not come calling unless she put some clothes on.

Before the Revolution claimed its first fashion victims, Marie Antoinette had attempted a simpler style of dress in her chemise a la reine. (shown to the left painted by Vigee-Lebrun) Unfortunately, this style met with as much condemnation as her more excessive styles. The public was so shocked to see their queen dressed-down like a country milkmaid that Lebrun was forced to withdraw her shocking painting from the Salon of the Academie royale de peinture et de sculpture. To make matters worse, this simpler English style threatened the French economy by relying on imported muslin. But really, could Marie Antoinette win? She was criticized for too much ostentation and then criticized for too little.

The light dresses of the Grecian goddess finally met its demise when Napoleon waged war against the fashionable ladies of Paris. Napoleon was known to have fireplaces sealed up so that ladies who came to soirees inappropriately dressed were forced to shiver in disgrace. But when has a little discomfort ever changed fashion trends?

If you are around the same age as me, you might have looked like just as much of a tramp (and just as cold) in those 80's short mini-skirts. My friends and I used to leave the house in layers. The first layer had our respectable mother-approved clothing and the last layer had what might be described as "street corner" attire. (something like what is shown here... I am embarrassed to admit that this picture is a Halloween costume.)

Napoleon eventually killed the Chignon a la Grecque fashion by banning the importation of Indian muslin. The ban forced women to rely on heavier domestic fabrics such as taffeta, velvet and brocade and probably kept many ladies from freezing for the sake of fashion.

*Unfortunately, no one bothered to tell trendy French ladies that the Greeks had achieved the sheer look by layering transparent fabrics over warm wool.

Sources and Further Reading:
Chazin-Bennahum, Judith. The Lure of Perfection: Fashion and Ballet, 1780-1830, New York, NY: Routledge, 2004.
The Queen's Hair: Marie-Antoinette, Politics, and DNA, Desmond Hosford, Eighteenth-Century Studies, Vol. 38, No. 1, Hair (Fall, 2004), pp. 183-200