Raucous Rumor of the Month: Did Leonardo da Vinci die in the arms of King Francis I?

In 1818, Ingres captured the poignant moment of Leonardo’s death in the arms of his patron, Francis I. In the painting, the forlorn king cradles an aged Leonardo in an intimate lovers embrace as a distraught figure (believed to be Leonardo’s assistant Melzi) dramatically gestures toward the deathbed. The scene is so intense that critics of the time felt that Francis looked like he was suffocating Leonardo. (I think he looks more like he is about to lay a wet one on him.) It certainly is an emotionally charged scene and one that would inspire other artists such as Cesare Mussini in 1929 (shown below). But does this painting really capture Leonardo’s death or was it just another tall tale passed down through legend? Let's trace the history of this rumor...

Following the death of his patron Giuliano de’Medici, Leonardo left Italy and came to France in 1516, at the age of 64. In France, he spent his final years in the manor of Clos-Luce near Ambroise. Despite the fact that his hand had become too crippled to paint, Francis and Leonardo enjoyed a lively and respectful friendship discussing architectural projects, philosophy, engineering and art to all hours of the night. (Imagine being a fly on the wall for one of those conversations?) According to Benvenuto Cellini, Francis, “did not think that any other man had come into this world with more knowledge than Leonardo.” (1) The king so admired Leonardo’s art that he even attempted to have The Last Supper transported to France. If walls had not proved so hard to move, Milan might have lost its national treasure.

After many crippling months of sickness, Leonardo da Vinci died on On May 2nd, 1519 at Ambroise. A contemporary description of Leonardo’s death was left by Vasari in his Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects:

“The king, who was accustomed frequently and affectionately to visit him, came immediately afterwards to his room, and he, causing himself out of reverence to be raised up, sat in his bed describing his malady and the different circumstances connected with it, lamenting besides that he had offended God and man, not having worked in art as he ought to have done. He was then seized with a violent paroxysm, the forerunner of death, when the king, rising and supporting his head to give him such assistance and do him such favour as he could, in the hope of alleviating his sufferings, the spirit of Leonardo, which was most divine, conscious that it could attain to no greater honour, breathed its last in the arms of the king. “(1)

Vasari probably heard the death bed tale from Melzi, but Melzi does not mention such a scene in any of his surviving letters. Would Vasari invent a story just to be more colorful? Perhaps. Vasari certainly did his share of gossiping, but his biographies are one of the few contemporary art history works of the Renaissance that we have today.*

The legend of Leonardo’s death continued into the reign of Louis XIV when the French Chronicler, Andre Felibien wrote:

“...the king having been to visit him during his illness, he wished to half raise himself in bed, and that, desiring to express to the king his deep feeling of the honour His Majesty did him, he failed in his speech and expired in the arms of the king. "(3)

Many historians have argued that Francis could not possibly have been at Ambroise for Leonardo’s last breath because the king had issued an Order in Council from Saint-Germaine-en-Laye one day prior. But Mrs Charles Heaton makes a valid point that this proves nothing because an Order in Council was often issued in the king’s absence and signed by the secretary of state.

Unfortunately, we will never know for certain who was present at Leonardo's death. Art critics have categorized Ingres' painting as an example of artistic hegemony meant to symbolize that the great master had come home to his true resting place – France. But even if the painting does not depict Leonardo’s death accurately, the emotions it captures on losing such a extraordinary artist and inventor are certainly genuine.

* In one on his biographies he tells an amusing tale of Giotto di Bondone who painted a fly on the surface of a portrait that looked so real that his older master, Cimabue repeatedly tried to brush it away. (this tale has now been doubted by art historians but it seems to me like the kind of hijinx that Giotto might get himself into).

Notes:
(1)Knecht, P 173

(2)Heaton, p. 192
(3)ibid

Sources and Further Reading:
Knecht, Robert J., The French Renaissance Court 1438-1589, New Haven: CT, Yale University Press, 2008.
Heaton, Charles, Leonardo da Vinci and his works: consisting of a life of Leonardo da Vinci, MacMillan and Co. 1874.

Stanley, Diane. Leonardo da Vinci, New York: NY, Harper Collins, 2000.

The Execution of Anne Boleyn: The Prophecy of Merlin fulfilled?

Today marks the anniversary of Anne Boleyn’s death. The following account details her execution from a Spanish report:

Immediately the executioner did his office; and when her head was off it was taken by a young lady and covered with a white cloth. Afterwards the body was taken by the other ladies, and the whole carried into the church nearest to the Tower of London. …Thus, he who wrote this billet says that, according to old writings, he has seen the prophecy of Marlin fulfilled.(1)

The Prophecy of Merlin
The “prophecy of Marlin” refers to the prophecy of Merlin (16th century people couldn’t spell)*. These prophecies were printed in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Book of Merlin in his Historia Regum Brittaniae. The book first appeared in the 12th century and chronicled the history of the Britons and the predictions of the wizard Merlin from the Arthurian Legend. One of these prophecies foretold that Henry should take power from Rome, ‘root out from the land all the razored skulls;’ and should neither spare, “man in his rage nor woman in his lust.” (2)

Sibyllic prophecies
During the 16th century, prophecies in England existed in two major forms. The first was Sibyllic in which initials, numbers and puns represented someone’s name. An example of a popular Sibyllic prophecy was, ‘that A B and C should sit all in one seat, and should work great marvels,’ (3) The A and B supposedly stood for Anne Boleyn while the C stood for either Cromwell or Cranmer.

Another prophecy printed in a book of prophecies featured a poisoned ink drawing illustrating a male figure labeled as “H” and two female figures labeled, “K” and “A.” The H figure obviously stood for Henry while the K and A figures stood for Henry's two dueling wives, Katherine and Anne. Unfortunately the A figure was missing her head. (Anne saw the drawings, but dismissed them as “bauble”. )

Another example of a popular Sibyllic prophecy during Henry’s reign was:

“When hempe is ripe and ready to pull,
Then, Englishman, beware thy skull.” (4)

The word “hempe” was meant to signify the beginning initials of England’s monarchs. H represented Henry VIII, E represented Edward, M represented Mary, P represented Philip II who supposedly shared in the prediction by marrying Mary, and E represented Elizabeth.

Galfriedian prophecies
The second popular form of prophecy was called Galfriedian, and employed the use of animals and other living creatures to represent a person. An example of a popular Galfriedian prophecy (and far less flattering to Anne ) was:

‘when this Cowe rideth the bull
than priest beware thy skull.’

The cow represented Henry VIII and the bull represented Anne Boleyn.

The prophecy that came true (sort of)
Another popular prophecy might have come true if Henry had followed through with the harsher punishment for traitors of burning. This prophecy, whose origins are unknown, predicted that a queen of England should be burnt at the stake. After the honeymoon phase had ended with Henry and the happy couple started to bicker, Anne might have taken this prediction more seriously. In an argument with Henry she told her husband that it had been said that a queen of England would be burnt but, “even if I were to suffer a thousand deaths, my love for you would not abate one jot’. (5) I wonder is she would have still felt this way with her head missing?

Prophecies, like rumors, are interesting to dissect because they often reflect the people’s fears and hopes. Stay tuned for a future post on the predictions of Elizabeth Barton, The Holy Maid of Kent.

*ok, they could spell, but their spelling was not confined to an alphabet of 26 letters nor any strict spelling convention. If you were to step back in the 16th century and tell Elizabeth I that she couldn't spell she might say, God's teeth! and send you along your way as a crazy person. For a further description of the Tudor alphabet - Read the The Raucous Royals by yours truly.

Notes:
(1) 'Henry VIII: May 1536, 16-20', Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 10: January-June 1536 (1887), pp. 371-391
(2) Mackay, p 281
(3) Dodds, p4
(4) Mackay, p 281
(5) Starkey, Kindle location 7161

Sources and Further Reading:
Mackay, Charles. Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, New Yorkm, NY: Three Rivers Press, 1995.
Starkey, David. The Six Wives of Henry VIII. New York, NY: Harper Perennial, 2004.
Political Prophecies in the Reign of Henry VIII, Dodds, Madeleine Hope, The Modern Language Review, Voll 11, No. 3 (Jul., 1916) pp. 276-284.
Ives, Eric. The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn, Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.

The Raucous Rumor of the Month: The sassy Christina of Milan snubs Henry VIII

Good stories are often repeated. I am obviously very fond of this truism because it is the basis of my latest book. And as far as rumors go…. this one is just too tantalizing not to repeat.

This rumor surrounds the enigmatic Christina of Milan and her public rebuff of Henry VIII when he was seeking her hand in marriage. Christina is shown here demurely averting our gaze in a panting completed by Holbein in 1538. The painting was reportedly an accurate portrayal of her famed beauty despite first-hand accounts of a browner complexion.

At first glance, it’s hard to believe that the sweet, dimple-faced, 16 year old in the painting would dare to snidely insult the King of England. Yet, her slightly upturned smile seems to reveal a sardonic wit beneath the surface of her dutiful morning attire. This dry wit is most appropriately illustrated in Christina’s rumored response to becoming Henry’s wife that if she had two heads, “one should be at the King of England's disposal.” SLAM! Oh no she didn’t.

No, really… she did not.

The true story behind Christina and Henry’s proposed marriage doesn’t quite read like a Jennifer Aniston tabloid diss on Angelina Jolie. In fact, Christina of Milan may have been quite enamored with the idea of being the next Tudor rose. For one, queen of England was a big step up from a Duchess.

The only contemporary accounts of Christina's attitude toward Henry point to a sort of bemused curiosity and a submissive acceptance of her fate. When her attendant, Gran Battista Ferrari returned from his visit to England, Christina questioned him about Henry VIII. Their conversation was interrupted by a summons to supper, but she continued to question Ferrari afterwards. For someone supposedly repelled by the thought of marrying Henry, she was definitely curious. Later, Wriothesley asked Christina what she thought of Henry and she responded that she believed him to be a “noble prince” and that she would comply with the wishes of her uncle, Emperor, Charles V.

Some historians have argued that the length of time that Christina sat for Holbein (only three hours) is proof of her disinterest, but Holbein never took more than three to four hours to complete his sketches and then finished his paintings from these sketches. Such was also the case with the infamous portrait of Anne of Cleves later to become Henry’s 4th wife.

The real impediment to the marriage was not Christina’s lack of attraction to Henry, but the fact that Henry was attempting to dip his big, fat toe into his ex wife’s family gene pool. Christina of Milan just happened to be the great-niece of Catherine of Aragon thereby putting her in the forbidden degrees of affinity. The only way to marry Christina would have been for Henry to get a papal dispensation from Pope Paul III. Unfortunately, Paul was not about to give Henry any more free passes to marry. In fact, he actually went out his way to block the marriage by reissuing his trusty papal bull excommunicating Henry. And since Charles V had grown pretty chummy with the Pope he was not about to let his niece marry someone the Pope had publicly denied important sacraments…like the sacrament of marriage.

Henry was left with no other choice, but to marry someone outside of his family. Thus, he was stuck with Anne of Cleves – a story for another day.

Rumors that Christina was blatantly opposed to the marriage were floating around in the 16th century, but the two-headed comment was not recorded until the 17th century. Although Christina never had the gumption to make the famed remark, we can always find truth in every fiction. The rumor is an accurate reflection of the 16th century world attitude toward Henry seeking a 4th wife. Most people thought he did need a wife with two heads.

Warnicke, Retha M. The Marrying of Anne of Cleves: Royal Protocol in Early Modern England, Cambridge University Press, 2000
Fraser, Antoinia. The Six wives of Henry VIII, New York, NY: Vintage, 1993.

Unrequited Love – Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon

Whenever I think of unrequited love, I think of the intractable Catherine of Aragon who refused to be pushed aside for Henry VIII's mistress, Anne Boleyn. Catherine even went to her deathbed with only forgiveness in her heart for the king who had caused her so much pain. Her death fits into the Raucous Rumor of the month...

Rumor: Anne and Henry wore yellow to mourn the death of Catherine of Aragon because it was the color of mourning in Spain. Some accounts report both Anne and Henry wearing yellow to show their respect. Some accounts report just one wearing yellow.

Possible Source: This rumor has been floating around the internet for some time. Its origins are not completely unfounded. Edward Hall, the chronicler, reported that Anne wore yellow for mourning.

The Truth:
After Catherine's death, the Spanish Ambassador, Chapuys, wrote a letter to Emperor Charles V stating:

“On the following day, Sunday, the King was clad all over in yellow, from top to toe, except the white feather he had in his bonnet, and the Little Bastard (Elizabeth) was conducted to mass with trumpets and other great triumphs. After dinner the King entered the room in which the ladies danced, and there did several things like one transported with joy.” (1) Parenthesis added by me

Chapuys was well aware that yellow was the color of jubilation. In the inventory for the Accounts of the Revels, there are numerous examples of yellow velvet and yellow satin being ordered for the ladies’ dresses to celebrate the royal festivities. Interesting, Anne was pregnant at the time of Catherine’s death and had decorated her confinement room in yellow ochre. Hall's reference to Anne wearing yellow to mourn may have been merely a sarcastic jab at Anne's lack of grief for Catherine’s death. (2)


Either way, the color of mourning in Spain was black, not yellow. When Juana the Mad’s husband died (shown above), she ordered all her ladies to wear black. When she herself died, Charles V wore black. And when Philip II died, a proclamation ordered by his son, Philip III sent the country into mourning. In Seville, so much black fabric was sold that it created a black market on black clothes. (no pun intended) In fact, when Chapuys was invited to attend Catherine’s funeral, he was offered black cloth to mourn his beloved queen, not yellow.

Sorrowful Tears or Dancing on the Grave?
We can only guess as to why Anne and Henry were callous enough to wear yellow. Henry was certainly relieved at the death of his ex-queen for it meant that he no longer had to fear any meddling from her nephew, Charles. Catherine’s death signified a brief respite from the fear of Spanish invasion. For Anne, it signified the death of her greatest rival.

There seems to be this trend lately amongst Annophiles to raise the tragic queen up to sainthood as a woman incapable of any blame. I personally don’t see any figure who usurps another women’s position as a feminist role model. Whether you choose to see the controversial Anne Boleyn as harlet or heroine, neither Henry nor Anne were feeling twangs of compassion over Catherine's death. The two lovers were as joyous as their yellow attire.

Stay tuned for next week when we snoop into the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn....

Notes:
(1) SP January 1536, 21-25, 141. Chapuys to Charles V, 21 Jan.Vienna Archives.
(2) Warnicke, p. 188

Sources and Further Reading:
Warnicke, Retha M. The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press; Reprint edition (July 26, 1991).
Starkey, David. The Six Wives of Henry VIII. New York, NY: Harper Perennial, 2004
State Papers Online

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.

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

Raucous Rumor of the Month- Another Royally Bad Hair Day

Ok I know have a weird fixation on hair rumors. I already tackled the Marie Antoinette going grey overnight rumor. Now I have to address the Mary Queen of Scots being bald rumor.

The Rumor: When Mary Queen of Scots’ executioner held up her head in the customary "God Save the Queen" mumbo jumbo, the poor sot was left holding only a wig as her head rolled to the ground. Everyone was then very shocked. Not shocked that Mary was missing a head. Oh no. Shocked that Mary kept a dirty secret….she was as bald as a newborn.

Source of Rumor: This is a fairly new one. We can thank a recently released popular trivia book and several internet sites for spreading it.¹

The Truth: Yes, Mary was probably losing her hair due to numerous health problems. But her real dirty secret was that she had gone grey…not bald. At her execution, she wore her customary auburn wig and eyewitnesses were surprised to discover Mary’s natural hair color. Her hair was cut short too which may have also lent some credence to the baldness rumor.

I know debunking this rumor is not going to change the world. But come on…the poor woman lost her head. At least, let her keep her hair.

(1) I am not going to name the bad trivia book because I believe in book Karma. I too may get some historical fact seriously wrong some day and get it into print.

Sources and Further Reading:
Primary Source of Mary Queen of Scots’ Execution
Fraser, Antonia. Mary Queen of Scots, London, UK: Phoenix Press, 1969

How Royals Squashed a Rumor

A few weeks ago, I read an interesting article about the Science of Rumors concluding that the worst way to fight a rumor is to ignore it. It is an interesting study because it leads me to my next question: How much of a past ruler's image is affected by their ability to squash rumors?

Obviously the biggest invention to change how rumors were spread was the invention of the printing press around 1440. You may guess that religious material would be the hottest reads to roll off the presses, but that was not the case. Pamphlets and libels ridiculing the elite were the first best sellers. Instead of disseminating rumors through word of mouth, a deluge of printed material could now reach the masses. As a result, Kings and Queens were forced to make a painful decision….do they ignore the printed slander or punish the authors?

Queen of France, Catherine de Medici, best remembered for being responsible for the The St. Bartholomew's Day massacre, chose to ignore polemic pamphlets. Around 1575, after the death of her son Charles IX, an especially misogynistic pamphlet was printed entitled Discours Merveilleux de la vie, actions et deportements de Catherine de Medicis Royne. In it, Catherine was blamed for the St. Bart ‘s ruckus and ordering the murders that sparked the violence. (The basic gist of it was that she was the female devil incarnate sent to seduce the people of France.) This pamphlet was more than just tabloid trash. It was distributed widely and translated into German, English and Latin. It became so popular that it was even used to later discredit future female rulers, Marie de Medici and Marie Antoinette.


What did Catherine do when she read it? She laughed herself silly. She even had the audacity to further quip that the author left so much out and remarked that if he had gone to her directly… then she could have given him much more juicy tidbits. Yet, Catherine is not remembered for her sense of humor. Her name has unjustly become synonymous with bloodshed.

During the same time period, Elizabeth I of England would not tolerate any slanderous pamphlets attacking the crown. The zealous puritan, John Stubbs wrote a book entitled, The Discoverie of a Gaping Gulf whereinto England is like to be Swallowed by another French Marriage. You can pretty much figure out from the title how Stubb’s felt about Elizabeth’s possible marriage to Catherine de Medici’s son, The Duke of Anjou. The queen was not enlightened by Stubb's work and she promptly ordered the public removal of his right hand.¹ Ouch! Today, this may seem like a draconian punishment for a little free speech, but Elizabeth (and certainly her advisers) understood the importance of royal image making. A weak monarch was a matter of appearances.

What do you think about the power of rumors? With the election just days away, how much of our voting decision is based on rumors?

(1) Elizabeth may have not found the book amusing, but Stubbs kept his sense of humor to the end. Before his hand was chopped off, he delivered one last bad pun and said, “Pray for me now my calamity is at hand.” Then after they chopped off his hand, he managed to retain his composure enough to get out a “God save the queen” before fainting.

Sources and Further Reading:
Pamphlet from The Gordon Collection.
Strage, Mark. Women of Power: The Life and Times of Catherine de Medici. New York, NY: Harcourt Brace Jovanowich, 1976.
Lancelott, Francis. The Queens of England and Their Time, D. Appleton and Co., 1858.

Creepy Rumor of the Month

All posts this month will be of an undeniably diabolical nature. Let’s start with a creepy art rumor featuring James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth.

Monmouth was the illegitimate son of Charles II and his mistress, Lucy Walter. One thing that Monmouth seemed to inherit from the Merry Monarch was his affability and vivacity. The public adored Monmouth from the start. Pepys writes of him:

The Duke of Monmouth is the most skittish leaping gallant that ever I saw, always in action, vaulting or leaping, or clambering. ¹

By all accounts, Charles adored this pretty youth too and recognized Monmouth as his son, but not his heir. Monmouth became his father’s constant companion and the two “leaped” and “clambered” their way through hunts and royal progresses. In 1643, Charles made Monmouth a duke at the age of 14. Monmouth served in the English fleet two years later and his courage and valor were marked by Duke of York, the Lord High Admiral of the Fleet. Monmouth had everything going for him – military honors, good looks, effortless charm and most importantly, the love of a king. This love afforded Monmouth a glittering life and all the spoils of a royal birth… but not the prestige of a crown.

Perhaps it was this love that also emboldened Monmouth to feel he had every right to the crown after his father's death. He certainly had popular public support and the right religion. Thus, Monmouth might have had a far less ignominious end to his playboy life if the silly twit had not decided to head a protestant rebellion to seize the throne from his uncle, James II. The sometimes tyrannical James just couldn’t have his brother’s bastard children running around causing religious unrest. So Monmouth found himself on the chopping block on July 15th, 1685 with executioner John Ketch’s shiny ax above his head. It took 7 tries to get the job done*

It might have been by stroke 7 that everyone realized they had forgotten something. No one had a portrait of Monmouth. As an artist, I can tell you it is really difficult to capture someone’s likeness from memory. So what do you do when you don’t have your live model? You use a dead one! Rumor has it that the court surgeon got out his sewing kit and stitched poor Monmouth's hacked, bloody head right back on the body so he could pose for his “official” portrait. At least this is the story that the Yeoman of the Guards will tell you on the Tower of London’s official tour.

Should we believe them? The Yeoman live and breathe English history. They are wearing the funny hats, marked with the royal crest and all look like credible witnesses of the past. So it must be true. Right? Let’s first trace this rumor.

The unsettling painting shown here is believed to be the origin of this rumor. Clearly you can see the subject is having a bad day. He might even be missing a head. The painting’s date is unknown. The artist is unknown and even the subject is labeled as an “unknown man.” Stylistically, the painting’s somber, dark shadows mimic the same techniques of Sir Peter Lely, Principal Painter to Charles II.

Although this death portrait is less than flattering, it is important to keep in mind that Monmouth was a real stud. Male beauty was even more revered then female beauty in the 17th century and anyone possessing such godlike features would have had artists knocking at their door. And artists did line up to paint Monmouth. We have several accounts of Monmouth sitting for some of the most popular artists of his day.

Sir Peter Lely painted Monmouth on at least two occasions. One painting depicts James at the sweet age of 15 accompanied by a lamb, but the original is lost. An engraving reproduced by Blooteling can be seen to the right here. Two other engravings taken from Lely paintings can be found at the National Portrait Gallery depicting an older Monmouth. Both engravings portray a young, handsome man in full classical regalia.

Monmouth also sat for the German artist Sir Godfrey Kneller when Monmouth invited him to England in 1674. The painting is dated in 1678…seven years before his death.

According to the NPG records today, Monmouth is associated with at least 35 portraits. All these paintings and not one was done during his life? Highly unlikely. I suspect instead that most of Monmouth’s portraits were destroyed after his death with only copies remaining.

Another reason why I don’t believe this rumor is because I don’t think Charles would really forget to take an official likeness to a son he adored. Remember that Charles had no legitimate heirs. Monmouth was the closest thing to a son that Charles would ever get. All that time father/son bonding over hunting and chasing ladies and Charles never stopped to say, “hey my painter is in town. Why don’t you sit for him.”

And if the court really wanted to remember Monmouth at the time of his death then they would have at least had a death mask made after his execution. A death mask is a plaster, wax or metal casting of the deceased’s face. The molds were used to create an exact likeness of the deceased and could in turn be used to create more molds so everyone could keep an effigy of Monmouth on their mantle. Artists also often used these death masks to create subsequent portraits. An example of a famous, English death mask used in portraiture is of Oliver Cromwell taken just 7 years before Monmouth’s execution (shown here).

Death masks needed to be completed in the first 48 hours after the person’s death or things got a little hairy. When the body decomposes the features start to sag making it difficult for the molding to get a true likeness. So it is possible that during all the ruckus, everyone forgot to get Monmouth’s death mask done in the allotted time. It’s also possible that James did not want to revere the image of a man who one could argue died as a martyr for the Protestant faith.

But why would the Yeoman perpetuate such a ridiculous rumor when there are clearly portraits of Monmouth portraying his likeness before his death and the customs of the time contradict such forgetful actions? History is fascinating enough without these embellishments. I listened to the same Yeoman who told the Monmouth tale also tell a bored 8 year old in the front row that Anne Boleyn had six fingers. He said we knew this for a scientific fact because when her body was dug up they found an… extra digit. This story certainly got the boy’s attention and I hate to be the party wrecker, but this is simply not true. Anne’s body was exhumed in 1877 and she had only 5 lovely fingers.

Now I have nothing against the Yeoman, but if you had to stand around in a tower watching the same darn crows that never leave and telling the same stories over and over again…wouldn’t you start to play with the facts too? With so many tourists coming through those gates I can imagine how this rumor could get legs.

Let’s put an end to it here and let Monmouth and his decapitated head rest in peace.

Stay tuned for more scary posts this month and my artsy critique of the best and the worst death masks throughout history.

* No one really knows what was Ketch’s problem but let’s just say he might have picked the wrong profession.

Sources and Notes:
1: Pepys (p. 329)

Fea, Allan. King Monmouth: Being a History of the Career of James Scott "The Protestant Duke" 1649-1685, J. Lane, 1902.
Maud Reid Nepean, Evelyn. On the Left of a Throne: A Personal Study of James Duke of Monmouth, J. Lane, 1940.
Pepys, Samuel. The Diary of Samuel Pepys, New York, NY: Macmillan, 1905 - can be accessed online in Google Books.

The Flanders Mare - A Promiscuous Horse?

Historians have often wondered why Henry did not find his fourth wife, Anne of Cleves appealing. Part of the mystery lies in the fact that we have very few accounts describing her appearance and only two contemporary portraits. One portrait is the infamous betrothal portrait by Holbein which sealed her fate and the other is from the workshop of Barthel Bruyn the Elder (shown below).

Writers through the years have certainly not been kind to Anne. The reference to Anne looking more like a "flanders mare" than a princess was first made in the 17th century by historian Gilbert Burnet who critisized Holbein's painting as taking, "the common compliment of his art too liberally." Nothing could be futher from the truth. Holbein was known for his accuracy and attention to detail in his paintings. Most importantly, the whole purpose of sending him to paint Anne was to take a likeness. He did his job and was therefore never punished by Henry when the real life Anne did not meet his expectations.

Later historians have speculated that Anne was unattractive to Henry because she was “large-boned,” but I disagree with this assessment. Anne was reportedly tall and the layers of clothes certainly made her look like a stuffed sausage, but I suspect that Anne's body type may have been closer to thin and gangly than big-boned. I have already written about some of Anne’s finer qualities in a previous post.

Find Me a Woman with Some Meat on Her Bones
Before marriage negotiations began with Cleves, Henry had instructed his advisors to find him a heavy-set woman for his fourth wife. His exact words (and a bit of an understatement) were, 'I am a big man and in need of a big wife.' Yet, Henry contradicted his own words with his previous actions for he tended to be more attracted to small-hipped women like Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour. Perhaps his days of slim women were over at the point in which he began marriage negotiations for his fourth wife?

Digging deeper, there is obviously more to attraction then someone's body build. And we also can't forget about Henry's political motivations toward the marriage for he may have simply not needed the alliance with Cleves as the marriage progressed. But Henry was obviously very much repulsed by his new bride too.

What did repulse Henry enough to annul the marriage and make Cromwell a head shorter?

The clue may be in the infamous rumor that Anne looked like a “Flanders Mare."


What is a Flanders Mare?
A Flanders Mare is not the graceful and delicate horse of a queen. In Medieval times, Belgium Horses were prized in wars for their tremendous size and strength. (show above).

Colored like a Flanders Mare
These heavy, war-like draft horses were typically black and ranged from colors to bay, bay-brown to chestnut. They were rarely lighter colors like they are today. Many accounts report that Anne was of a darker skin tone, the opposite of the beauty ideal of the time. When Henry asked Lord Russell what he thought of his new bride he replied that 'I take her not for fair, but to be of a brown complexion.'

Smells Like a Flanders Mare
I grew up around horses. I love horses. But let's face it. No matter how much you love horses you cannot deny that they stink. One of the biggest turn-offs for Henry was Anne's lack of hygiene. Maybe it was her smell that truly repulsed him? But wait....I have an even more far fetched theory.

As Skanky as a Flanders Mare?
Henry also told Anthony Denny, a member of the Privy Chamber, that she had 'breasts so slack and other parts of body in such sort that [he] somewhat suspected her virginity.' And if that was not bad enough he complained to his court physician of the 'hanging of her breasts and looseness of her flesh.' Could Henry have really suspected Anne's virginity?


Later in the 17th century, Flanders Mares were not only prized for their strength, but also their eager willingness to pull heavy carriages. The Flanders Mares were mentioned in the diary of Samuel Pepys:

Thence to my Lord’s, where I found Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, and with him and Mr. Sheply, in our way calling at the Bell to see the seven Flanders mares that my Lord has bought lately, where we drank several bottles of Hull ale. Much company I found to come to her, and cannot wonder at it, for she is very pretty and wanton.¹

Pepys never really says who the “her” is but he seems to be making a double entendre between the horse wantonness and the unknown women. Interesting that he chose the always willing Flanders Mare to make his comparison. Perhaps the word "wanton" had a different meaning then? I suspect it means relatively the same thing.

In the eighteenth century, English writer and pamphleteer Daniel Defoe gives the prostitute and main character of his novel the fictitious name of Moll Flanders. He makes it clear that this is not her real name. In general, Defoe rarely named his characters and generally referred to people as “the elder brother” or “the nurse.” I doubt Defoe's choice of Flanders was insignificant.

I personally believe that Henry was not attracted to Anne because of a combination of factors. She lacked refinement and grace (she couldn’t dance or play an instrument), her darker complexion was not the beauty ideal of the time, she smelled when Henry was fastidious about cleanliness, and most importantly she may have exhibited an eagerness to please that Henry found unattractive. Aside from Henry's political motivations toward the match, we will never know for certain why the science of attraction failed, but perhaps if Anne had played hard to get she might not have reminded Henry of this eager draft horse.

Sources
Starkey, David. The Six Wives of Henry VIII. New York, NY: Harper Perennial, 2004
Weir, Alison. The Six Wives of Henry VIII. New York, NY: Grover Press, 1991
Pepys, Samuel. The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Hayes Barton Press, 1660 - can be accessed online in Google Books.
Warnicke, Retha M. The Marrying of Anne of Cleves: Royal Protocol in Early Modern England, Cambridge University Press, 2000
Daniel Defoe Wikipedia Entry
Notes:
1: Weir (p.227 )

Another Hairy Marie Antoinette Rumor

Marie Antoinette is not alone in this hairy rumor. It supposedly happened to Henry IV of France, Thomas More, Annie Oakley and Jerry Garcia. I swear it happened to Bill Clinton. If you ask around it seems everyone has a friend of a friend who had a grandmother that it happened to. It might be happening to me right now as I sit here writing this blog entry...procrastinating working on edits for my next book.

I am talking about hair going white literally over night or at the very least in less than a week. In my research on Marie Antoinette, I read two different accounts of her hair going white overnight before her final execution. When Madame Campan saw the queen two days after her arrest at Varennes she reported, “In a single night it (her hair) had turned as white as that of a woman of seventy.¹” Legend also has it that Marie’s hair turned white the night before her execution.

I will admit that I am a little obsessed with Marie Antoinette’s hair. So the image of her going to bed with mounds of shinny, bouncy blond curls and waking up with a head of ghastly white hair has always stuck in my mind. We all know that stress is a killer. And surely, knowing that your head is going to be sliced off like a tomato in a Ginsu commercial can leave you a bit stressed. But could Marie’s stress have caused her hair to turn white overnight?

Let’s Break for the Science Bit
A hair strand resides in a hair follicle. The cells in the hair’s follicle, called melanocytes, make the prized melanin which gives our hair color. When we age, the melanocytes get a little sluggish and stop producing melanin resulting in the dreaded white hairs. Once that strand of hair turns white, it’s not going back to your lustrous color without some help from Miss Clairol.

Going Gray Gracefully
Hair is dead matter so when you are frightened or stressed whiteness cannot shoot down the strand. Instead, as hair grows from the root the whiteness starts there and gets longer and longer. As more and more hair is cut off at the ends by routine haircuts, we are left with white hair. This means that hair can only turn white as fast as it can grow.

There is a rare medical condition called diffuse alopecia areata that causes only your pigmented hair to fall out. This hair loss causes someone to appear like they have suddenly gone white when really they have just lost most of their colored hair. Alopecia Areata is often triggered by stress and can happen as rapidly as a couple of weeks.

Did Marie Antoinette really go Bald Overnight?
It is possible that the stress after Marie’s arrest caused her to loose so much hair that she was left with only white hair. Accounts do report that she was sick enough to be bleeding internally.

The last sketch of Marie immortalized by Jacque-Louis David may hold the clue to busting this rumor. The sketch portrays a weathered and grim faced Marie being taken to the scaffold in an open cart with her hands bound behind her back. Her hair had been cut off leaving what appears from the sketch only about two inches. Marie’s hair may have still had some color left, but the colored ends would have been lopped off to prepare her for the guillotine.

How Time Flies When You're Having Fun
Look at that…an hour has passed and I still have not done any work. If time flies when you are writing a silly blog entry then it must really seem to speed up when you are busy trampling and mutilating anyone who is wearing the wrong pants. To the revolutionary onlookers, it may have seemed like Marie’s hair turned white overnight, but she was hidden away from the public for months while in prison—plenty of time for the last two inches of Marie’s famed locks to turn white.

Sources:

1. Farr, Evelyn. The Untold Love Story: Marie Antoinette & Count Fersen (1995)

Jeanne Louise Henriette Campan: Memoirs Of Marie Antoinette at Gutenberg
Wanjek, Christopher. Bad Medicine: Misconceptions and Misuses Revealed, from Distnace Healing to Vitamin O. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2003

Lever, Evelyne. Marie Antoinette, The Last queen of France. New York, NY: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2000