Under the Old Regime, sodomy, in common parlance, referred to sex between
men. Legally however the term covered a range of actions from masturbation to
necrophilia:
1. A person could kill anyone who 'attacked' them in this way (while this
might generally refer to some degree of coercion or violence, in one account
from the Bastille, 'attack' seems to refer to a simple approach).
2. A wife could legally separate from a man "subject to this vice".
3. According to some, a simple 'attack', consummated or not, could be
punished by death, though circumstances and age must be considered.
4. 'Weakness of age' could excuse one who has 'let himself by corrupted,
especially if he was the victim of violence..
5. Neither the testimony of witnesses nor of experts wasrequired as proof,
presumptions and/or the testimony of one who claimed to have been attacked
could suffice.
The above is from Volume IV, 118-122 of Officially, the standard punishment was death by burning, and Jousse cites
several cases where this was applied. But the Bastille archives record many
cases where the outcome was far milder (most at the start of the century).
Ravaisson, writing in the 19th century, gives one creditable explanation for this:
(Despite his harsh opening words here, Ravaisson, as will be seen, seemed to
look askance at one "investigator" of others' sexual behavior.)
Often, sodomy was treated much like prostitution. Many sodomites were sent
to the Hospital; the "public" nature of an offense was often cited;
"corrupting" others was an aggravating factor. Otherwise, clergymen were often sent to
a diocese in the provinces. Also, far from sharing the modern American
opposition to gays in the military, the Old Regime, with admirable pragmatism,
viewed many as perfectly serviceable cannon fodder and more than one sodomite was
sent off to a regiment.
Probably class and simple favoritism played their part as well. Saint-Simon
fulminates frequently against the Duke de Vendome, who seems to have been one
of those blatant incompetents who nonetheless has the boss' ear - the boss,
in this case, being Louis XIV, who took a long time to realize how disastrous
a general Vendome was. This was all the more inconceivable because:
Probably a similar dynamic applied for many more obscure figures as well.
Finally, most of the cases here for which details are given involve
elements, such as pimping or approaching schoolboys, beyond sodomy itself. While it
may not be that two men living quietly together were completely safe, here, as
in so much else in Old Regime law, discretion seems to have counted for a
great deal. The Knitting Circle site says that "In 1725 the Paris police
compiled a list of 20000 sodomites." If this figure was remotely accurate (making allowances for false
denunciations), only a very small percentage seem to have been actively
prosecuted. This is not to suggest that homosexuals felt unthreatened under the Old
Regims, but possibly most felt no more insecure than under the sodomy laws of
succeeding centuries.
This case was in fact was one of the more spectacular
sodomy cases of the Old Regime. Anyone interested in learning more about it can
find numerous (mainly contemporary) references on Google Print. Here is a
glimpse at Voltaire's view of the case:
[The last comment on posting the execution is questionable - this "usage" was continued in several
other cases at least]
The literal term today means two very different things: in jogging, a side
stitch and in knitting, a rib stitch. (http://www.tricotin.com/pointdebut.htm;
http://www.planete-homeo.org/analyse/homeo/propagat/1/ph311213.htm;
http://www.drmirkin.com/fitness/side_stitches.html) To complicate matters, Vidocq
says a 'point' was also slang for a franc, so the term may have meant nothing
more than someone who got money on the side (as an informer).
For now I will opt for "side stitch", meaning a pain in the side, a concept
which no doubt existed before jogging, and which has obvious application
here. The two men described below can then both be described as "side stitches"
(which rhymes nicely with "snitches", creating a kind of inadvertent
cross-lingual rhyming slang.)
The first man seems to have been a good old fashioned informer, who may well
have been in it for the money:
The Abbé Théru, on the other hand, seems to have been a kind of shadow
Savanarola, determined to root out (sexual) transgression in all its forms. Though
he only seems to be mentioned (twice) in connection with the lengthy and
complicated case of the Abbé Desfontaines (to be visited later), Ravaisson
apparently knew (and did not like) far more about him than he set down:
He earned himself the tiniest of footnotes in history by insinuating - in
the fullest sense of the word - that Voltaire, who had defended Desfontaines,
was gay. Though Voltaire did defend Desfontaines, he claimed not to know him
well (which, in fairness, is not necessarily convincing.) Ravaisson also says
that no one else mentions his connection with the college of Grassins.
Whatever the exact truth on either point, it is clear that Théru has no
substantial evidence here and is masterfully weaving a circumstantial case from
presumed associations - bearing in mind that under the Old Regime presumptions
could be definitive in cases of sodomy. Voltaire escaped the mercury strands
of this man's net, but it is chilling to think how many others - of any
sexual inclination - did not:
{NOTE: For those who enjoy the resonance of names, the name of Théru's
correspondant, Ombreval, suggests "Shadow Valley" in French.)
This is, among other things, an unusual mention of a Jacobite (many of whom
settled in France and some of whose descendants played key parts in French
history), and includes a casual slur of the Irish. The question of class and
family relations is in the forefront here, especially in the different
dispositions of each man's case, as is the explicit desire not to try these cases
publicly.
The reference to "an order of the King" is to a lettre de cachet, which here
was requested, as often was true, to spare a family's reputation. Though
Neel himself ended up in Vincennes, it is worth remarking the chilling note that
he is to be sent to the Bastille "and forgotten there". This annotation
confirms the worst popular fantasy of the Bastille as an abyss into which
prisoners disappeared forever. In rare cases, that is exactly what was intended.
D'Argenson does not say why this man was originally exiled from Paris, but
the 'shameful sodomy' of his youth would have been reason enough. Class and
the accused's prospects of an income seem to be major considerations here.
D'Argenson's gracious application of his superior's "suggestion" was
probably a tactful way of following orders. The fact that Pontchartrain forwarded an
order to send the priest to the Hospital, then had second thoughts, suggests
some behind the scenes intervention, or at least due, if delayed,
consideration of the Church's authority.
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
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18th CENTURY RECIPE: Three eras compared
For some months now, I have translated a number of French eighteenth century
recipes. Before that, I translated Taillevent's Le Viandier (as "How To
Cook a Peacock"), a medieval French work that was one of the earliest French
cookbooks. Naturally enough, I have begun to notice differences and
similarities between medieval, eighteenth century and modern cooking. What follows is
hardly comprehensive, but does give some idea of the key observations I have
made.
- FOODS
The most striking element to a modern reader in medieval cooking is the
frequent use of large game birds: heron, peacock, stork, swan. Smaller game birds
like pheasant are also standard fare. Chicken is not absent, but blends in
with these other birds, rather than being a dominant dish. While veal is
common, beef otherwise is not mentioned in the Viandier at all and rarely elswhere (which may suggest why the French
nicknamed the British, who seem to have always eaten it, "roast beefs".).
Other game, like rabbit and boar, is also used.
By the eighteenth century, chicken, fowl and pigeon are far more standard
fare, and beef appears frequently. Game is still popular - as was hunting in
the period - but stork, heron and swan are absent. Turkey begins to appear.
Potatoes and tomatoes are completely absent, even if the potato was being
introduced (as an alternative for the poor) towards the end of the century.
Imagine French cuisine without potatoes today? The tomato is more associated
with Italian food, but certainly has its place in French cooking. The French
still eat slightly more game - such as venison and wild boar - than
Americans, but in general chicken is by far the most common bird eaten. If anything,
I would say the French now eat less turkey than in the eighteenth century.
Beef is even more of a staple than it was in the eighteenth century.
American cooking (a newcomer relative to the previous periods) tends to be
conservative in its ingredients, and, when it comes to meat, chicken and beef
rule.
- HERBS, SPICES AND OTHER FLAVORINGS
In medieval French cooking, the dominant spices were like those Americans
more typically use in holiday or dessert dishes: ginger, clove, cinnamon,
nutmeg, and paradise seed (closely related to cardamom). A standard mixture of
these was also kept on hand (much like the Five Spice mix still to be found in
Chinatown markets). Pepper was used on an equal footing with these, even
slightly less. All these were frequently moistened with verjuice, or vinegar.
Onion was used often, garlic infrequently (though it flavors one common
sauce). Marjoram and parsley were both used, but little more than herbs like
hyssop, pennyroyal and costmary. Saffron was sometimes added, but more for color
than taste.
To modern tastes, many dishes from this period taste very much alike, using
the same distinctive spices with little variation.
The eighteenth century kept some of these spices, notably clove and nutmeg,
but used others far more rarely or not at all. Also, clove and nutmeg were
now integrated with other, dissimilar flavorings, while pepper took on a
separate role, as simple salt and pepper became more common (and to some degree
replaced the dominant "holiday spices" of earlier centuries with a simpler
tonality, almost as if a black and white palette replaced that of a rainbow.)
The range of flavorings became broader, more subtle and more varied.
Parsley became ubiquitous, along with spring onion and shallots (clove was
often used stuck through a clove of onion or, far less frequently, garlic).
Tarragon became a standard ingredient. Some others, like laurel, thyme and
rosemary, were used enough to be standard, without in any way distinguishing
flavors of the period. Fines herbes, as a mixture, replaced the powdered mix
frequently mentioned in medieval recipes. Capers and anchovies begin to appear as
sharp notes.
Basil appears infrequently, and then in a less dominant role than one often
finds now (and in less familiar combinations, as with nutmeg or clove). Oregano is never mentioned, and in general all that makes a meal
distinctly Italian (at least to American palates) was used less or not at all.
(Whether similar flavors were already established in Italy itself I can't
say, though in general the tomato, for instance, was a late arrival in Europe.)
Garlic was used intermittently, but was in no way characteristic of French
cuisine.
The herbs used in salads were noticeably different from modern assortments,
and even from any herb mentioned in the Viandier (which however has no
recipes for salads, nor even mention of them on some attached menus.) Here are
similar lists from two works 56 years apart:
..balm, tarragon, glasswort, garden cress, buckhorn plantain, salad burnet,
and stonecrop
Liger, Le Menage de la Ville et des Champs, 1712 (387)
..chervil, tarragon, balm, or domestic mint, salad burnet, buckhorn
plantain, spring onion, garden cress & stonecrop..
Gillier, Le Cannameliste 1768 (90)
Verjuice - the use of which persisted far longer than some modern works on medieval
cooking suggest - was still used in the 18th century, but vinegar and lemon juice
were used more frequently, as they are today.
Here are some sample lists of spices and other flavorings from the Viandier
and from eighteenth century recipes listed on Sundries:
Le Viandier
Brewet Georget: costmary, marjoram, wild spinach; parsley leaves; cinnamon,
ginger, clove and [paradise] seed
Covered Brewet: cinnamon, ginger, paradise seed and clove
Lamb Shoulder: parsley, hyssop, pennyroyal and raw marjoram; ginger, sugar
and salt
Haricoq: peeled onions; white ginger, cinnamon and assorted spices, that is,
clove and seed
Civet of Singed Veal: some onions; ginger, cinnamon, seed, clove, and
saffron for color;
18th Century Recipes
Wings of Fattened Pullet à la Maréchale: a carrot, a bouquet of parsley and
spring onion, and two onion halves, in one of which you will have put a clove
nail
Soup of chicory with water: salt, coarse pepper and a little nutmeg
Rouen duckling with orange juice: parsley, spring onion, shallots, salt,
pepper, and powdered basil, a little nutmeg; a little salt and crushed pepper,
shallots chopped fine
Rice Casserole: an essence of two or three garlic cloves, basil, clove and
wine;
Veal Blanquette: parsley chopped fine, a little nutmeg
remoulade sauce for Entree of grilled or fried Pigeons, à la
Sainte-Menehout: anchovies, parsley, chopped capers, a little spring onion
Roasts à la Hollandoise: parsley, spring onion, shallots, crushed pepper,
chopped anchovies
Grilled Food: oysters, anchovies, capers, nutmeg, a little laurel and some
lime
Godiveau: salt, pepper, cloves, nutmeg, fines herbes & spring onion
- BINDINGS (THICKENINGS)
The Viandier very often uses a puree of peas, often in combination with
toasted bread which has been moistened and strained, as a thickener. Sometimes
the latter is used with chicken livers. When egg yolks are added, they are
always hard-boiled.
By the eighteenth century, all these methods have disappeared. The most
common binding is liquid egg yolks, sometimes with butter added. Flour is
sometimes used as well.
Flour and butter are often used in French cooking. The sauces in the
Larousse Gastronomique are often not thickened at all, while some use hard-boiled
eggs once again.
Flour and butter also appears in American cooking. Corn starch seems to be
used less than it once was.
- SHORTENINGS
In medieval cooking, lard was the dominant shortening. It was often used
with beef bouillon for cooking. Butter and oil are both mentioned for frying,
but very rarely.
In 18th century cooking, butter is on an equal footing with lard. Oil is not
mentioned in recipes for frying - the Dictionnaire des Alimens articles on
both 'Frying' and 'Oil' implicitly acknowledge that it sometimes was used, but
only by saying that it was bad for digestion (that is, it was not
recommended for frying). (Had it caused stomach trouble in medieval times? Maybe. But
anyone whose stomach was still working on heron or stork might not have
noticed the difference.)
Butter is still used in both France and America. Lard persists regionally,
but is far less widespread. Cooking in oil is absolutely standard, even
without considering the deep frying which now imprints (via American influence) the
world's diets.
- COOKING METHODS
I have seen it suggested that in medieval cooking everything was put in one
big pot at once, however separate the recipes. This is not absolutely unheard
of today - at one taco stand on Sunset Boulevard, everything (pork, beef,
fish, vegetables, etc.) is put on one round grill and cooked in the same
collective juices.
Still, in the Viandier for many dishes instructions say to grill, fry or
simmer the meat, then add the sauce on top after. Some meats of course were
cooked on the spit.
Pasties, which became 'paté' in French, were a major element in meals,
basically consisting of a thick pastry crust filled with various mixtures, many
corresponding to today's patés. Some think the pastry may have been used as a
bowl. Two similar items today would be meat pies and paté en croute.
The most distinctive technique in medieval cooking was 'redoing' or
'restoring' the meat, which is frequently mentioned. This was essentially pre-cooking
it, by grilling it lightly, for instance, or blanching it. No mention of
this technique appears in eighteenth century works (though some modern cooks now
brine meat before cooking it).
Otherwise, the shift is subtle. The spit is still often used, and frying is
common, though less so than in earlier centuries. Grilling is still normal,
if somewhat less used. More meals seem to be simmered in larger pots
(simmering in medieval times was often a step away from frying, using bouillon mixed
with lard.)
Pasties were still common, but had become only one among a number of smaller
dishes.
In a general way, this was the period when French cuisine began to develop
finesse and differentiation, so that simple care and separation of ingredients
differed from the heavier-handed approaches of medieval cuisine.
One issue with comparing previous cooking methods with modern practice is
that earlier cookbooks generally assumed a fairly large kitchen and kitchen
staff. The Encyclopedie's article on "Kitchen" (Cuisine, as an architectural
term) describes various hearths for various preparations, ovens as separate
units, etc. Recipes too often refer to putting something on the coals or other
spots that suggest the edge of a hearth.
The most important change in cooking methods today is the move from the
fireplace to the stove, which began in the eighteenth century. The development of
the stove as a separate and manageable domestic unit most differentiates how
we cook today from an era when meat might roast on a spit while various
frying pans and pots were put on the coals or over a fire in a hearth. A modern
cook is a bit like a keyboard player, with a versatile. wide-ranging
instrument at their command. For instance, if a modern cook has a spit, it is probably
an accessory in their oven (itself a component of a stove), rather than
being an entity unto itself. What is more, refinements such as controls for
individual burners make modern cooking a far more fine-tuned affair than in
previous centuries.
- A TASTING MENU
If you would like to give unsuspecting friends a rather caricatural idea of
the difference between medieval cooking, eighteenth century cooking and
modern French and American cooking, here are some recipes to make that point.
Each uses a chicken breast, which already might be an issue for the medieval
'sample'. At the very least, for both medieval and eighteenth century
cooking, you might want to use fowl, or a less tender type of chicken than is found
(in American markets at least) today. A real purist would want a game bird
for the medieval portion. Eighteenth century recipes often use poularde, which
has no common equivalent in America. The Penguin (Oxford) Companion to Food
says that poussin (spring chicken) has less meaning today, since most chickens
sold ARE spring chickens.
To really be authentic, too, you might want to cook the pre-modern recipes
over a pit, or in a fireplace.
None of these are more than sketches of recipes - I'll leave it to expert
cooks to refine them. But most are simple enough that it is hard to go too
wrong. While hardly emblematic of their eras, they have specific elements that
anchor them in each: the medieval mixture of spices is rarely found on meats
today; parsley, shallots and nutmeg were not frequently mixed either before or
after the eighteenth century; oil is far more frequently used today for
frying and sauteeing than in either previous era, and potatoes and tomatoes mark
any recipe as being from after the eighteenth century.
-- Medieval
Cook half a cup of peas and then puree them. Toast a slice of bread, cut it
up and lightly soak it in wine, then blend it with the pea puree.
Mix a teaspoonful each of ground ginger, clove, nutmeg and cinnamon (and
cardamom or paradise seed, if you have them.) Moisten this mixture with vinegar
(or, if you can find it, verjuice).
Blanch a chicken breast, then simmer it in lard and beef broth with a
chopped onion (or grill it). When it is done, put it in a plate. Either mix the
spice paste with the puree or spread it on the chicken. Pour the puree over the
chicken breast.
NOTE: Though this kind of thing apparently tasted terrible to one
nineteenth-century French writer, to modern Westerners who know Indian cuisine with its
different spices and lentil purees it may taste almost familiar.
-- Eighteenth century
Rub the chicken breast lightly with salt and pepper. Spear two small onions
with clove and fry the chicken with the onions in butter or lard. In a
separate pan, sautée some mushrooms in butter with chopped parsley, chopped
shallots, some capers and nutmeg. Add an egg yolk to thicken it. When the chicken is
cooked, put it in a dish and pour this sauce over it.
Alternately, to emphasize other differences with medieval cuisine, you could
use a chicken leg and thigh, simmer it in butter in a pot, then add the
mushrooms, etc. and simmer all that before adding an egg yolk towards the end.
(WARNING: Of the three periods, this kind of combination is hardest to get
right: the nutmeg can overwhelm the parsley, the yolk, if the sauce is too
hot, becomes bits of omelette, etc. Of course, it is just possible that people
in our period liked all this as is.)
-- Modern
Here are two recipes, one leaning toward classic (as opposed to nouvelle)
French cuisine, the other toward American cuisine (much influenced by the
former, but often with many Italian notes).
Dice some potatoes and boil them lightly. Then simmer them in butter or
olive oil with the chicken breast, chopped garlic and onion. Take out the chicken
breast when cooked and put it in a dish. Add some red wine to the sauce
before simmering it a few more minutes and pouring it over the chicken breast.
Stew tomatoes, garlic and onions together with a chicken breast in olive
oil, with oregano, thyme and basil, and a few cloves of garlic. Serve breast
with sauce over it.
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FOR READERS OF FRENCH
