SUNDRIES: An eighteenth century newsletter

This collection, The Apocalypse in English Romantic Literature, includes information on the supposed prophetess, Joanna Southcott, also the focus here: Joanna Southcott, English Prophetess - The Woman clothed with the Sun. The second site includes her texts.

This is a brief essay really, but interesting: The Economic Role of Women in 17th and 18th Century France.

This (informative) review: "Thomas Brennan, Burgundy to Champagne; the wine trade in Early Modern France" is part of this rather individual site: Ranums' Panat Times:

As retirement approached (at the end of June 1999), I declined requests to evaluate article and book typescripts. I felt I needed the time to read what really is of interest to me. The need to keep abreast of current research in all fields of Early Modern French history is of less importance. I have always enjoyed talking about new books and articles with my friends. Now that I have the time, why not formalize this just a bit? The scholarly ways of Early Moderns — the affective ties, disputes and informal communication by letter and short article — have always appealed to me. Contemporary word-processing and inexpensive printing make what follows possible."

Few of these accounts give any hint of how the victims were viewed by their neighbors. This 1851 telling of a story from Brittany, however, makes it plain that the victim was much loved by her fellow townspeople, as does the song about her that is still sung today: "the Orphan Girl of Lannion" (Envzivadez Lannion, or Emzivadez Lannuon, in Breton). A French translation can be found here with the melody.

The story of this poor young servant girl in a Breton inn, who was raped and killed by two bandits who had asked her to guide them in the night. The crime took place at Lannion, in 1693. Périnaïk was a servant girl at the White Pelican. She was not one of those inn girls who was for hire for all sorts of services, this by day, that by night. She was as decent as she was pretty. She came besides from a good family; if her parents had not left her an orphan too early in life, she would not even have had to enter into service. Her older brother, whom their parents had had the time to raise properly, was a vicar in Lannion. Although a servant, Périnaïk was happy, the hostess of the White Pelican was more a mother to her than a mistress, and everyone who came to the inn seemed to hold her in high esteem. When the double crime of which she was a victim was known, a great cry of indignation rose up in the town. The two guilty men, whom the seneschal had had arrested, and whom had been found right on the road drunk and asleep, were greeted, as they went to the scaffold, by the jeers of the crowd. One whistled as he walked and pushed his audacity to the point of asking for a biniou [bagpipe] to get the crowd jeering him to dance; the other to the contrary went with his head low and crying, people threw stones at him. When he got to the gibbet, he hung on to it so strongly with his foot, that the executioner was obliged to cut it off with the blow of an ax. Justice was done.
Michel, Histoire des hôtelleries, cabarets, hôtels garnis, restaurants and cafés, 1851, T. 2 (344-345)

A RIVAL'S RAPE (I)

If the idea of parents urging their daughters to attack a rival seems far-fetched, bear in mind that just this past year after the boyfriend of a young teen flirted with another girl at a party, her mother insisted she 'take care of her business' and attack the other girl (whose only transgression was to have attracted the boyfriend's attention.)

In 1740, during a festival at Pentecost in a village near Saumur, two sisters brought Catherine F., known for her attractions. The sisters soon found themselves abandoned by the men in favor of Catherine, and also overheard unkind comparisons of themselves to her. They left furious, and feeling vengeful.

They confide their thoughts to their father and mother, who far from trying to dissuade them, embrace their vengeance, and urge them on. They resolve to make Catherine F. suffer outrages cruel to their sex; they enlist their two brothers in their quarrel. One of them writes Catherine F. to come take a walk in a neighboring wood, called la Chaboissière, on a certain day. She fears to offend them by refusing the invitation. On the day set, the siblings arm themselves with oak switches, and stable scissors, which their mother tells them to take... In vain does one of the sons refuse to take part in their planned excess; the more he shows repugnance, the more his father exercises his authority, and even menaces, to oblige him to second his brother and sisters. The siblings go to the wood first, and are careful to avoid witnesses who might reveal their presence, and undo their plan; being masters of the place, they await their victim. Meanwhile Catherine F. starts off. The youngest goes to meet her; and as soon as he sees her, he says that his brother and his sister are impatiently awaiting her. She has hardly arrived, when the two brothers grab her, and while is unable to resist them, the two sisters forget modesty and humanity, stripping her; and while she is in this state, all four unleash their fury and their rage at will, bloodying her with the switches with which they are armed. Then they cut her hair with their scissors. Catherine F.'s enemies, after so many outrages, are not yet content, they want to subject her to several cruelties; but she profits from one of these moments where the most furious passions slow; she gathers her clothes and escapes...

Having returned in tears to her mother, she decides to appeal to justice - and is helped by the arrogance of her attackers:

Rather than bury their crime in ... silence.. they advertise it, and make a trophy of it...The father amd the mother indulge in insolent laughter, and say a few words of the adventure in the wood. She hears from all sides the tale which they have unwisely let out; they furnish the strongest proofs against themselves; and trace the image of their crimes the more truly, being themselves the painters. They draw its most hateful features from Nature.
P. F. Besdel, Abrégé des causes cèlébres et intèressantes, 1806, T.3 (122-125)

One would think that Catherine F. would have found swift justice. But in fact the family responded to her complaint by accusing her of 'rape' (rapt) of the two brothers. The rest of the story will appear in the discussion of that form of rape.

RAPE BY ARSON

It is rare that a poem is the prime source for an account of a crime, but Bachaumont makes it clear that the incident put in verse here went unpunished. The fact that the criminal's name is partially masked suggests that it was widely known, but dangerous to publish. The complaint that ends Gilbert's poem echoes numerous grumblings in official records, some by people - like d'Argenson - who were themselves among the powerful.

April 28 [1778].

In the satire of monsieur Gilbert called: my apology'....[he shows the case of the] duke of Fr***, one must recall that ten years ago this young lord unable to seduce by his gold & his caresses a young person who lived with his mother, in the delirium of his unbridled passion made himself guilty of three crimes at once: arson, kidnapping & rape.

While a virgin, as modest as she was beautiful,
One day showed herself completely rebellious to this sultan:
All the art of corruptions persistently directed towards her
Were, for his ends, wasted crimes.
For his pleasure of one evening let all Paris perish!
So it is that in the night, accomplice of his madness,
While the beauty, victim of his choice
Enjoys a chaste sleep under the watch of law,
He arms his incendiary hands with a torch,
He runs, he sets on fire the hereditary roof
That saw her resist his oppressive love;
And carries her off, dying, in his ravisher's flesh;
Obscure, he would have suffered a deserved death
He is powerful, the law ignores his crime.

Bachaumont, Memoires Secretes, 11, 1777-1778 (296-297)

From CHEZ JIM Books: An EIGHTEENTH CENTURY VEGETARIAN COOKBOOK: APRES MOI LE DESSERT - VOLUME II and a history of the CROISSANT: AUGUST ZANG AND THE FRENCH CROISSANT

18th CENTURY RECIPE: French bread

I was not expecting to find a true recipe for bread in our period, since the French books that describe making it at all outline a whole slice of village life: choice and storage of grain, how to proceed at the mill, choosing river or well or cistern water, boiling it or not, etc. The process was part of a larger infrastructure that went well beyond our idea of a recipe. And in fact, I have yet to find a true recipe in French. It turns out however that Elizabeth Moxon's English Housewifery Exemplified (1764) not only has two recipes for bread, both are for FRENCH bread:

427. _To make_ FRENCH BREAD.

Take half a peck of fine flour, the yolks of six eggs and four whites, a little salt, a pint of ale yeast, and as much new milk made warm as will make it a thin light paste, stir it about with your hand, but be sure you don't knead them; have ready six wooden quarts or pint dishes, fill them with the paste, (not over full) let them stand a quarter of an hour to rise, then turn them out into the oven, and when they are baked rasp them. The oven must be quick.

60. FRENCH BREAD.

To half a peck of flour, put a full jill of new yeast, and a little salt, make it with new milk (warmer than from the cow) first put the flour and barm together, then pour in the milk, make it a little stiffer than a seed-cake, dust it and your hands well with flour, pull it in little pieces, and mould it with flour very quick; put it in the dishes, and cover them with a warm cloth (if the weather requires it) and let them rise till they are half up, then set them in the oven, (not in the dishes, but turn them with tops down upon the peel;) when baked rasp them.

The fact that these are richer (in terms of ingredients) than the French preparation that follows makes me wonder if the English did not ordinarily eat a simpler bread and regarded "French bread" (whether or not it was truly like that in France) as a luxury item. Certainly, the fact that the first recipe calls for "fine flour" suggests that this was not the kind of coarse bread eaten by the poor.

Of choosing Wheat Of keeping Wheat
Of some precautions to use in taking Wheat to the mill
Of Wheat at the mill Of Flour
The proper ways to know flour's quality
Of water in bread
Of Leavening
Of the preparation of Leavening
Of using bran in the Kneading of dough
Of Yeast & Salt
Of the Kneading Trough
Of the Oven
Of Kneading the dough
Of Cooking the bread
Of Rye
Of Corn Dredge
Of Barley
Of Turkish Wheat
Of Buckwheat
Of Potatoes
Of Gruel
Of Bread
Letter from the Mayor& Aldermen of the town of Mondidier Letter from M. de la Tour, Lawyer

But his basic instructions for actually making the bread involve flour, leavening and water, and do not differ greatly from those given by Bonnefons in Les délices de la campagne over a hundred years before (1655).

One difference is in discussing leavening. The idea of using brewer's yeast in bread came a bit later in the century and was briefly controversial (the superior flavor quickly resolved the controversy.) Leavening before that came first from the local baker and was carefully kept 'alive' through different batches of bread.

Bonnefons is also more specific about class, offering recipes not only for 'common Bread' and 'Master's Bread', but a 'Valet's Bread' somewhere in between. He too offers more of a complete manual (after discussing wheat, mills, etc.) than a true recipe. (NOTE: a minot was an old measure about equal to a bushel, or eight gallons, equal to, in the UK, 36,37 liters, and in the US, 35,24.]

And for the Making we will first speak of common Bread, which will be that much better, the more flour there is; nonetheless, if you want to make a good sort of Bread for Valets, you will put in the Mill four minots of rye [or coarse] Wheat & a minot of Barley, (which is about enough for an Oven), & have it sifted with the large Bolting Cloth. From this flour, you will take about a Minot at ten o'clock in the Evening, & will put it with leavening, which you will cover well with the same Flour. To soak it, in Winter, use Water as hot as you can bear on your hand; in Summer, it is enough that it be a little warm, & thus in proportion for the two other temperate seasons. The next day at the break of day, you will put the rest of your Flour with leavening, & knead all this, working your Dough for a long time, keeping it rather firm; because the softer it is, the more Bread you will have, but also it will last you less time, as more is eaten when it is light, than when it is firm. Your Dough being well-kneaded, put it back in the Bin, turning it over, & push your fist into the middle of the Dough, until the base of the Bin, in two or three places, & cover it well with bags and covers. When at the end of some time (more in Winter, & less in Summer) you look at your Dough, & you see your holes completely closed up; it is a sign that the Dough has risen enough, you can have the Oven warmed by a second person, (because it is almost impossible that one alone can be spread between the Oven & the Dough) you will divide it into pieces, & make them about sixteen pounds each, or a little more; then you will form this dough into loaves, & lay it on a Tablecloth, making some space between each loaf, lest they touch in swelling.

Your Oven being hot.. take out the Firebrands & Coals, lay some lit Coals on a side near the mouth of the Oven, & clean it with the maulkin which will be made of old linen, which you will moisten in clear water, & twist it before scrubbing, then you will block it up to let it bring its heat to bear which will blacken the bread & a little after you will open it, to fill the oven as neatly as you can, putting your largest Loaves at the rear and along the sides of the Oven finishing by filling it in the middle. ...The bread being put in you will close the Oven up well, & seal it all around with moistened cloths, to keep the heat in well: four hours later, which is about the time needed to cook large Loaves: take one out to see if it is cooked, & particularly on the underside, what is called having Star, & tap it with the end of your fingers: if it resounds, & if it is firm enough, it will be time to take it out, if not leave it still some time, until you see it cooked, experience will soom make you knowledgeable: because if you leave it in the Oven too long after it is just right, it will redden inside and will be disagreeable. When you have taken your Bread out, you will rest it on the side that is most cooked... You will let your Bread cool, before closing in the Bins, where you will always rest it on the side..

To make Burgher's Bread or Master's Bread, you will measure from the Flour what you want to cook, take the sixth part to put with yeast, & make a hole in the Dough with the Fist, as for the common Bread: when it has risen, you will exchange yet as much Flour as you soak with this yeast, & let it rise again & prepare it as above; when ready, put in the rest of your Flour with water in proportion, & let it all rise again, then form the Loaf, & handle it like the preceding one." (6-10)

REMINDER: The Magasin Pittoresque was a nineteenth century French magazine. Issues can be found on Gallica.Also, most articles are accompanied by at least one image, and so some may interest even those who do not read French.

A note on Cartouche here notes, in passing, the end of breaking on the wheel. An article mocking early fears of eclipses blithely mentions people in the 19th c. renting telescopes on the Pont Neuf - to look right at them. Lots of bits by famous artists here - can't say if any are still obscure these days. Remember oxygen bars? The nineteenth century, it turns out, had compressed air baths. Dickens' notes on his childhood look fascinating, but I'm sure they're readily available in English. Lest anyone think the 'instant coffee' described here is the earliest such beverage, the Encyclopedia offered, a century before, a method for travellers to make instant chocolate.

84 - end of breaking on the wheel in 1791
106 - 1654 instructions on eclipse
134 - tempest in Rouen in 1683
142 - Ursulines in New Orleans in 1727
148 - first sewing machines
155 - tale of old ass of Montalte 1709; Greek style mascarades
158 - Franklin and the Gulf Stream
161 - grandfather's blessing (image)
189 - a precursor of the Magasin Pittoresque
211 - first pieces by Corneille
302 - list of works popular in readings (many 18th)
323 - early poem of Corneille
379 - silver angels with Louis XIII's heart and disposition under the Revolution

Individuals
34 - writer William Combe (and Doctor Syntax)
169 - intendant general d'Etigny
201 - astronomer Chappe d'Auteroche
230 - Mme du Deffand's misanthropy
238 - medal of Louis XIV and his motto (by Warin)
243 - Vauban 270 - O'Carolan ("The last of the Irish Bards")
313 - Jean-Dominique Cassini
383 - Dupont de Nemours' peach pit (anecdote in La Force)
406 - Stukely

Off-topic but of interest
9 - Ronsard
52 - 16th century helmets
72 - layout for soldier's linen and shoes for inspection
86 - Dickens' notes on his own childhood
111 - cost of making/selling umbrellas
131 - instant coffee (coffee tablets)
145 - Mercator, cosmographer
170 - a fencing master and the furriers of Strasbourg 1559
212 - Durer's image of 'surtout' (table decoration)
216 - sketch of a young man's head by Michelangelo
230 - an anecdote of Milton and the Duke of York
241 - Lyon under Roman rule 246 - village customs in Sweden
291 - Peking cuisine
300 - Japanese caricatures
311 - compressed air baths
315 - corporal punishment in schools opposed in early England
355 - sketches by Raphael
371 - causes of suicide
391 - Massachusetts public libraries