Just like 1789…plus ça change…

| Monday, June 15th, 2020

 
A watercolour of the Chateau de Courtomer in the early 19th century, in the entrance hall today

A watercolour of the Chateau de Courtomer in the early 19th century, in the entrance hall today

 

Dear Friend, 

“That window is off center,” scolded Monsieur Xavier, testily. We were up on the roof of the Chateau, surveying the ongoing replacement. I was trying not to look down. Or clutch the railing when the wind shook the scaffolding. It was 4 storeys off the ground.

This time, the flaw was not the fault of our charpentier, who had been putting a new slate roof on the east and west wings of the Chateau for the last two years.

The "charpentiers" on the roof of the Chateau, on a snowy winter day

The "charpentiers" on the roof of the Chateau, on a snowy winter day

No, an architect long ago – 230 years ago, in fact – had somehow let one third-story window slip over to stand a little closer to its companion. Monsieur Xavier puffed out his cheeks in disapproval, glaring around like the general of a model army in which a couple of soldiers have been caught slumping during roll call.
 

« C’est le privilège du vrai génie, et surtout du génie qui ouvre une carrière de faire impunément de grandes fautes. » 
 
« Imperfection is a privilege of genius,” I responded. A dose of Voltaire’s ironic wit might calm both our nerves. 


Perhaps Monsieur Du Blinn, the architect who constructed the Chateau de Courtomer was not a genius – we have been unable to find any other examples of his building, so it is hard to judge. But he was a member of the prestigious Académie d’architecture, founded in 1671 by order of King Louis XIV. 
 
The rebuilding of Chateau de Courtomer, family lore tells us, was inspired by Louis XIV’s palace of Versailles. When you go to Versailles or spend time strolling outside the Louvre, you will undoubtedly agree. Like these two magnificent royal palaces, the Chateau follows the classical tradition; it takes after a Roman temple of antiquity. Symmetrical wings expand on either side of a monumental central block. Its triangular pediment is held up by “columns.” Like the palaces, and like a Roman temple itself, its architecture was intended to inspire respect and awe for the magnificent beings who resided within.

Piranesi's influential engravings of Roman ruins brought classical architecture back into fashion. The Temple of Hercules, drawn in the 1770s

Piranesi's influential engravings of Roman ruins brought classical architecture back into fashion. The Temple of Hercules, drawn in the 1770s

But…this rebuilding of a derelict medieval castle took place in the 1780s. Versailles was already more than 100 years old. The family of Chateau de Courtomer sought inspiration in past glories. They were not looking ahead to what the future might bring.
 
It must have been a bittersweet moment when the construction was finally finished in 1789. That very year, Versailles fell to a sinister mob. The King, his queen, Marie-Antoinette, and their three young children left the palace forever, escorted by pikes and pitchforks.

The family at Chateau de Courtomer would soon be off to prison as well. But not before they had personally hacked their armories off the Chateau and the nearby church they had founded back in the 11th century.
 
Like so many aristocrats, they were enthusiastic supporters of the great reform of the Kingdom of France. It seemed long overdue. So many shocking events were associated with the Old Regime! 

Louis XVI mounts the scaffold. The Old Regime ends, and the Terror begins.

Louis XVI mounts the scaffold. The Old Regime ends, and the Terror begins.

 There was the ghastly public torture and execution by écartèlement  -- torn apart “limb from limb” – of Damiens, who had tried to stab King Louis XV in 1757. Spectators came from all over Europe to witness a form of punishment unknown to living memory. The incident was all the more grisly because it turned out to be quite difficult for four horses to pull apart a living human being.
 
There was the absurd and cruel execution in 1766 of the young Chevalier de la Barre, only 20 years old, falsely accused of blasphemy. At the last minute, even the executioner refused to cut the lad’s tongue out before chopping off his head. Then, there was the execution in 1765 of Jean Calas, a Protestant, baselessly accused of murdering his son rather than allow him to convert to Catholicism. 
 
Voltaire denounced these grotesque incidents in wildly successful pamphlets. And the élites, including the youthful Marquis de Courtomer and his family, agreed with him. These were examples of the intolerance, medieval barbarism, and religious repression which afflicted society and stopped real progress!

Portrait of Voltaire, the 18th-century's public intellectual and influential social critic

Portrait of Voltaire, the 18th-century's public intellectual and influential social critic

Yet…of progress there had been ample evidence. New and improved public roads and canals put an end to the great famines. Foreign trade and new manufacturing techniques enriched the growing “bourgeoisie” and brought cheap clothing and other pleasures and necessities to the masses. Orphanages, veteran’s hospitals, schools…all through the 18thcentury, public benefactors desired to improve the lives of the poor and vulnerable.

Louis XVI, later to be guillotined as a menace to the progressive values of the Revolution, did his part. He espoused economic reform, paid for much of the American war of independence, and allowed himself to be publicly vaccinated against smallpox.  
 
No benevolent acts saved the Old Regime. And the Revolution that started out so blithely, pledged to “liberté, égalité, fraternité” – freedom, equality, brotherhood -- ended in intolerance, barbarism, and repression. Happily, the Marquis and his family weathered the worst of the Terror. But that is another story…

I was allowing my mind to wander. Monsieur Xavier was fidgeting.

 
The scaffolding went up and the old roof came down.

The scaffolding went up and the old roof came down.

 

It pained him to see anyone other than himself or his helpers laying hands on the Chateau’s roof. Every slate that was thrown down onto the growing heap below was an affront to his economical spirit. Every nail that could have been re-employed, a foolish waste. Even worse, he suspected the roofers of being mere workmen, rather than dedicated artisans in the noble tradition of the charpentier.
 
“It was still good,” he grumbled, shaking his head, as another slate hit the growing pile. He was partly right. But there were leaks. The slates were wearing thin. The roof had been redone in 1905 and then repaired in the 1960s.
 
Sometimes you just have to make up your mind to tear it all up and start afresh.
 
Besides, we were making the roof much better. Instead of the clumsy lead seam connecting the top and lower portion of the mansard, the slates would swoop gracefully into place. The elaborate 19th-century pots à feu that ornamented the ridge would be replaced with classical spheres on pediments. The two round oeil de boeuf windows, eliminated in the 1960s, would once again bring light streaming through their chien-couché (“dog lying down”) dormers.
 
In fact, our new roof would be almost exactly as it was back in 1789.
“Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose »! …the more things change, the more they remain the same!

Bonne fin de semaine,

 
EB-01.png