Execution of Madame Élisabeth

Madame Élisabeth, sister to Louis XVI, was 29 years old when her brother mounted the scaffold. She had been born Élisabeth Philippe Marie Hélène de Bourbon to the Dauphin Louis Ferdinand and his Saxon wife, Marie Josèphe. Since then she had spent her life at the court of Versailles and the splendid palaces belonging to her family.

30 years later she found herself in the Temple, a prisoner of a violent revolution. Yet, her gender marked her as being of little threat to the regime struggling to be born; after all, the Salic law which had ruled in France for centuries banned females from ascending to the throne. Therefore, Madame Élisabeth was not included in the indictment issued against her sister-in-law, Marie Antoinette. Initially it was decided that Élisabeth was to be exiled after the queen's trial. Therefore, she was not executed alongside either her brother or her sister-in-law.

Madame Élisabeth

On 9 May 1794, she was suddenly taken from the Temple and transferred to the Conciergerie. Unbeknownst the her, the regime had changed its mind and now fully intended to place the woman known now merely as the "sister of Capet". For the final time, she embraced her niece, Marie Thérèse before being brusquely informed that she would not return.

Rather than being taken to a cell to await further instructions, Madame Élisabeth was taken before the Revolutionary Tribunal. It would be the beginning of a short trial, lasting just two days. The charges laid against her were dire indeed: corresponding with enemies of the state, funding émigrés, counselling Marie Antoinette, assisting the king's flight to Varennes and encouraging anti-revolutionary activities.

The young woman met her accusers with a calm dignity and plainly denied any of the charges; without losing her temper, she informed her accusers that Marie Antoinette had had no secret councils and that she therefore could not possibly have assisted in them.

Élisabeth with her brother on 20 June 1792 -
she would later be condemned for providing
 assistance to wounded soldiers during
the violent demonstrations

The trial was a farce typical of the Revolutionary Tribunal. Madame Élisabeth was denied a proper defense attorney; the man who had been appointed to act as such, Claude-François Chauveau-Laofarde, was intentionally misled by the Tribunal. For instance, he was told that there was no need for him to confer with his "client" as she were not to be tried any time soon - this turned out to be a direct lie as the princess was tried the very next morning. This meant that when Chauveau-Laofarde scrambled to court, he had not even met the woman he was defending.

Dressed in a red gown, Madame Élisabeth was one amongst 24 accused standing trial. It was remarked that her calmness affected those around her. It was very much a trial with a fixed result. The same questions were posed to her - and again she refused to take the bait. Even when Dumas - the man in charge  of the trial - actively attacked her character and attempted to twist her words, she refused to meet his accusations with anything but rationality.

Élisabeth was not a fool - even if she had not known that her brother had gone to the scaffold following a trial much like hers, she must have known that the deck was stacked against her. None of her accusers made any attempt at hiding their obvious disdain for her. The verdict was expected: Madame Élisabeth - and the other 23 accused - were found guilty on all charges. In the same breath, it was decided that she were to be executed the next morning.

If anyone doubted that contempt held for her by the President of the trial, they needed only her him commenting: "There will be nothing preventing her fancying herself still in the salons of Versailles, when she sees herself, surrounded by this faithful nobility, at the foot of the holy guillotine".

Madame Élisabeth leaving for the scaffold

Once the condemned were removed, Madame Élisabeth once again exerted herself to the comfort of her fellow-condemned. She had always been a fervently religious woman and now she encouraged those who were to die with her. She chose to rejoice in the fact that the Tribunal had not asked them to renounce their faith "only their miserable lives".

There appears to be some conjecture about when Madame Élisabeth was definitely informed of the death of Marie Antoinette. Later, Marie Thérèse would recall that they had heard her mother's sentence being cried out from the people walking beneath their windows but that they had refused to believe it. One account claims that Élisabeth had asked to see her sister-in-law after her sentencing only to be told that she had suffered the same fate. Another claims that it was only at the foot of the guillotine that she overheard a callous remark. Once it was noticed that the condemned bowed to her before their deaths, a spectator allegedly remarked that that they could "make their salaams to her all they wanted, she will share the fate of the Austrian".

Madame Élisabeth, 1792

When dawn broke on 10 May 1794, the cart rolled up in front of the Concergerie. It was not large enough to transport them all, so they were split up. Madame Élisabeth were amongst the first to be loaded onto the cart and taken to the Place de La Revolution (formerly named for her grand-father, Louis XV); once there, she refused the executioner's help in getting down. The ire of the courtroom followed the former king's sister even to her execution. Due to the large number of people destined for the guillotine, a bench was erected for them to sit upon. As a final act of spite, Madame Élisabeth was scheduled to be the last to die - she was therefore subjected to watching every single one of her 23 co-condemned being beheaded. Amongst these were her friends and acquaintances. 

Nevertheless, she still used the time left to her to fortify the people around her. It had been decided that the executioner would read one name at a time but the condemned were unaware of the order. She had garnered so much respect amongst them that each person either curtsied or bowed to her before mounting the steps; in return, she recited the Catholic prayer, De Profondis. Finally, it was her turn and she followed them up to the blood-stained scaffold. Once she had been strapped to the board with her arms behind her back, her fichu blew off leaving her shoulders exposed. Therefore, she returned to her executioner and calmly said "In the name of your mother, monsieur, cover me".

Those were the last words she said before the blade fell. Unlike at the executions of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette the thud of her head hitting the basket did not occasion the usual "Vive la republique" but rather silence. The king's sister - the same woman the poor had nicknamed "the good lady of Montreuil" - had always a good reputation, earned by her generous donations to the poor and her obvious devotion.

The remains of Madame Élisabeth was thrown into a mass grave in the Errancis Cemetery. Louis XVIII would later attempt to find the remains of his sister to rebury her in Saint-Denis - but in vain. Her bones are no longer there; instead, her skeleton was amongst those taken to the catacombs.

Madame Élisabeth at the scaffold - cross in hand 

The people who shared her fate that day were - as can be seen, the de Lémoine family were eerily over presented:

Louis Bernadin Le Neuf, Comte de Sourdeval, aged 69

Anne Duwaes, aged 55

Anne-Nicole de Lamoignon de Malesherbes, Comtesse de Sénozan, aged 76

Charles Cressy Champnilon, aged 33

Claude Louise Angélique Bersin, Marquise de Crussol, aged 64

George Folloppe, aged 64

Louis-Pierre-Marcel Letellier, aged 21

Théodore Hall, aged 26

François Alexandre Antoine de Lémoine, Vicomte de Brienne, aged 36

Louis-Marie-Athanase de Lémoine, Comte de Brienne, aged 64

Denise Baurd, aged 52

Jean-Baptiste Dubois, aged 41

Antoine-Hugues-Calixte Montmorin, aged 22

Jean-Baptiste Lhoste, aged 47

Martial de Lémoine, aged 30

Antoine Jean François Megret de Sérilly, aged 48

Élisabeth-Jacqueline L'Hermite, Comtesse de Rosset, aged 65

Anne Marie Louise Thomas, aged 31

Françoise-Gabrielle de Tanneffe, aged 50

Anne Marie Charlotte de Lémoine, aged 29

Antoine Jean Marie Megret Detigny, aged 46

Charles de Lémoine, aged 33

Marie-Anne-Catherine Rosset, aged 44

Louis-Claude L'Hermite Chambertrand, aged 60

Film Fashion: Livery Edition

Every royal and noble household had their livery - a uniform in the colours of their house worn by the servants attached to their household. This had several purposes including identifying a person as belonging to specific nobleman or royal as well as emphasizing the wealth of the master; after all, he would be the one paying for the uniform. Thus, any court in Europe was awash with servants wearing multi-coloured uniforms. 

For the servant in question, the colour of his livery could mean that he was treated with respect by his peers - for instance, being clearly marked as the employee of a powerful man could have its benefits. Furthermore, it signalled to the guards and residents at court that the wearer had a reason to be at court which in itself might just spare them some unpleasant scenes.

Most movies do not feature liveries very prominently; rather, they can usually be seen briefly in the background.

The king's livery was blue, red and white - coincidentally the colours later chosen for the French flag. Other members of the royal family often chose their own; for instance, the Comte d'Artois had an apple green and Madame de Pompadour dressed hers in purple for her estate of Bellevue. Purple was also a colour of choice fro Marie Antoinette's Petit Trianon but at Versailles - where her household was largely mixed with her husband's - it was also the traditional colours.

These three uniforms featured in the 2006 movie "Marie Antoinette" by Sophia Coppola. To the left can be seen the black and gold of the Habsburgs - Marie Antoinette's family. In the middle an officer of the king's household holds open the door for the new dauphine which clearly shows the golden embroidery often adorning their uniforms. Finally, a porter can be seen bowing to the titular figure as she enters her new bedchamber. This time, the uniform is a different shade of blue and appears less ornate - this would be rather accurate, as the uniform depended on the office.

These four images show different interpretations of the king's livery. The first from the left is from the move "Louis XVI, l'Homme qui ne voulait pas être Roi" and shows by far the most modern version. The second is from "Versailles: Le Rêve d'un Roi" and shows a more 17th century version. Interestingly, the two last - both from "Jeanne Poisson: Marquise de Pompadour" are of a much lighter blue and white and has completely omitted the red and gold.

These three men clearly depicts three different households. The man to the left, wearing the otherwise Habsburg-colours, served the Marquise de Merteuil in "Dangerous Liaisons". The two other men feature in movies about English nobility: the man in green is from Jane Austen's "Love and Friendship" - the adaptation of her novel Lady Susan. Finally, the man in brown feature in "the Duchess" and as such is meant to be in the employ of the Duke of Devonshire.

This time, these liveries represent other monarchs in the 18th century. The gentleman in the dark livery with golden accents is in the fictional employ of Christian VII of Denmark-Norway ("A Royal Affair") while the man at the centre featured in the 2014 series "Ekaterina" about Catherine the Great. Finally, the sorely tried man to the right is depicted as serving George III of Great Britain in "The Madness of King George".

The Queen's Condition: Marie Antoinette's Hair Loss

Marie Antoinette's hair was the focus of much attention from the moment of her arrival at court in 1770. Its beautiful ashen-blonde colour was made the inspiration for a new colour tapestry while it would later set the fashion in the ever-rising coiffures of the 1770's. 

Generally speaking, the queen's hair was said to have been one of her strengths. Its colour and thickness was envied by many and she was understandably proud of it. During her time, Marie Antoinette would suffer two different but marked issues connected to her royal locks: 

1. Hair Loss

By 1780, Marie Antoinette was experiencing a new issue regarding her appearance: hair loss. The towering hairstyles favoured by the court in the 1770's meant that the hair had been exposed to everything from ironing and "frizzling" to prodigious amounts of grease and hair powder. As can easily be imagined, this would have left its fair share of damage to any person's hair - and the queen was not exempt. Apparently, she had already experienced some balding spots due to the excessive hair-dos of her younger days.

Léonard, the queen's infamous hair-dresser, naturally fretted over what could be done. He tasked the royal perfumer Fargeon with providing a concoction to be massaged into the royal scalp. In response, Fargeon sent plenty of oils of violet, jonquils and jasmine as well as powder meant to thicken the queen's hair. Alas, despite their best efforts, it was in vain.

Not to be deterred, Fargeon then suggested another powder - this time of crushed irises which were to be mixed with a pomade of essential oils of lemon, jasmine, tuberose and jonquils. Surprisingly, it seemed to have actually had an effect but the queen was not completely rid of her bugbear. 

Fearing that the effect would be but short-lived, Léonard took a drastic decision: the queen's locks would have to be cut short - very short. Thus, Marie Antoinette found herself sporting a very short hairstyle which was immediately emulated by her contemporaries. It was given the name of "coiffure à l'enfant" or the "child's hairstyle" - luckily, the name had a dual purpose. On one hand it referenced the short her of very young children while still referring to the queen's condition.

Undoubtedly, the coiffure à l'enfant must have come as a relief to both the fashion conscious - and those paying their bills. It was far easier to maintain and the lack of any expensive adornments meant that costs could be kept low. On a more practical level, it must have been far more comfortable than the enormous towers of hair covered in grease, powder and everything the heart could desire. 

Marie Antoinette in 1781

2. "Marie Antoinette Syndrome"

Alopecia Areata - such is the latin term for the condition in which a person suddenly loses colour from their hair. Historically speaking there are plenty of anecdotes of people whose hair became unexpectedly - and suddenly - either completely grey or white. Marie Antoinette is amongst the most famous people who  allegedly endured such a thing.

The story goes that the queen's hair - which had already starting to grey due to the stress of the revolution - turned completely white during the night before her execution. It should be kept in mind that the queen was just 37 years old and as such could have had some naturally grey hair but were slightly too young to be experiencing a "whitening" of that scale.

Nevertheless, Madame Campan described the hair of her mistress as having become "as white as a woman of seventy". While medical professionals argued against the idea of hair turning colour over night, more recent medical research have provided a different explanation. In the article "Hyperactivation of sympathetic nerves drives depletion of melanocyte stem cells" it was discovered that mice exposed to considerable stress at different points in the hair growing process lost the pigment in the stem cells that gave their hairs their colour. 

This could be the explanation for what has become known as Marie Antoinette Syndrome. For instance, it was pointed out by the authors that acute stress had a clear and marked impact on the stem cells - and the condemned queen can certainly be said to have suffered from acute stress. 

Marie Louise Élisabeth de Bourbon, Fille de France

In August 1727, Queen Marie Leszczynska was nearing the end of her first pregnancy. Finally, on 14 August she went into labour and was safely delivered of a healthy set of twin girls. The first to be born was given the names Marie Louise Élisabeth but would be known simply as Louise Élisabeth or Babette by her close family members. Due to her status as the first-born girl, she was also referred to by the traditional Madame Royale.

Louise Élisabeth spent her childhood in the company of her beloved twin sister, Henriette, and her faithful governess the Duchesse de Tallard. As the years passed, she would welcome a seemingly endless line of new siblings; she would therefore spent the majority of her days with Henriette, Adélaide and Louis Ferdinand while the younger of her siblings were shipped of to a nunnery during their formative years.

As the young Madame Royale grew up, she became increasingly the centre of attention for other courtiers. They remarked on her vivacity which was only interrupted occasionally by periods of indolence. Added to that came a strong streak of determination, intelligence and an ability to exert her will. Meanwhile, her looks were considered to be inferior to those of her twin sister Henriette. Louise Élisabeth's nose was quite short while her forehead was high and her complexion - that much-noticed feature - was described as "blotchy".  Still, she possessed the talent of pleasing those around her by her natural charm.

Louise Élisabeth in 1749.
Her much criticised nose does appear
to be somewhat broad but her eyes are
definitely those of her father

The eldest daughter of a king was naturally the focus for marriage projects from a very early age. At the age of 11, Madame Royale was officially betrothed to Infante Philip of Parma. The choice of a Spanish husband was not surprising; after all, Louis XIV had married a Spaniard and the bride's father was the nephew of the then-reigning Philip V of Spain. As such, the houses of France and Spain were clearly linked. 

What was surprising was the rank of the groom. The eldest daughter of a king was usually betrothed to a high-ranking man - most often either a king himself or a future monarch. Philip, however, was remarkably far down the line of succession to the Spanish throne. Of the Spanish king's numerous sons, he was the third to survive childhood and by the time of their marriage in 1739, his elder brother was already married and had a child on the way. Therefore, the proud French courtiers considered the match to be beneath a Fille de France. As for Louise Élisabeth herself, she appears to have shared their disappointment when she admitted that her destiny was "less glorious than she had the right to expect".

Grumble as they may, the proxy wedding took place on 26 August 1739 in the chapel of Versailles. Immediately afterwards, she was packed into a carriage and sent south for the Franco-Spanish border.

Once she arrived in Madrid, Louise Élisabeth had remarkably success with the male members of her new family. Both her husband and the king were very pleased with the new addition to their family but her new mother-in-law, Elisabeth Farnese, was less so. Louise Élisabeth had not become any less determined but this presented a challenge for the Spanish queen who was used to being able to dictate to her husband. Their strained relationship meant that Louise Élisabeth increasingly stayed in her chambers were she sent letter after letter to her father.

Six years after her wedding

Her new life in Spain did nothing to diminish her pride in her French origins. Like all daughters of Louis XV, she was imbued with a keen sense of French pride and did what she could to advance French culture. Meanwhile, she kept an avid correspondence with Henriette at Versailles with whom she hoped to be able to carve out a more independent and influential position for herself and her husband.

As for her relationship with Philip, it was a somewhat neutral one. Whereas he regarded her with affection, she soon realised - much like her mother-in-law had - that he shared his father's submissiveness. With her determined nature, Louise Élisabeth quickly found ways of asserting her influence over him. By 1741, he was dispatched to fight in the War of the Austrian Succession. Meanwhile, Louise Élisabeth was pregnant which did not prevent her from working behind the scenes to achieve on of the principalities of Italy for herself and her husband. She would have to wait seven long years for that to happen whereas her first delivery was far sooner than that. On the very last day of 1741, she gave birth to a girl who was given an almost indecent amount of first names: Isabella Maria Luisa Antoinette Ferdinanda Gieuseppina Gieuseppa Saveria Giovinna.

By 1748 the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle ended the war and led to several advantages for Philip and Louise who were made Duke and Duchess of Parma - much due to the interference of Louis XV. Yet, there was one thing missing in order for the new Duchess to achieve her dreams: an independent income. To finally achieve this, she was able to do what few royal princesses ever could: return to her homeland.

The new Duchess of Parma - notice
that she is wearing the French 
fleur-de-lys, indicating both her birth
and the French influence over Parma

On 11 December 1748, Louise Élisabeth arrived back at Versailles after almost ten years away. Immediately, the courtiers took stock of the young woman's appearance. Having always been somewhat well-endowed it was noted that that particular feature had become more prominent following her first pregnancy. Her eyes were fine and penetrating but her wardrobe was shockingly lacking. Still, the years of political maneuvering had certainly not dimmed her intelligence; it had, however, given her a sense of practicality.

As could be expected after so many years apart, Louise Élisabeth spent most of her time with her siblings and her father. Louis XV was immensely glad to see her again and permitted her to use a small private staircase leading directly into his private apartment. The time she spent at Versailles was a happy one; considering that she had lived in a position beneath that she had left, she undoubtedly relished being back where her position was well-known.

Sadly, it could not last and she was obliged to leave for Parma again on 18 November 1749. This time, her family were adamant that she were to leave with a sufficient wardrobe which cost the treasury quite a large sum. Once properly established at Parma, she set about creating a court entirely to her tastes. Her new abode - the Palace of Colorno - was entirely redone as the previous inhabitant had taken most of the interior furniture with him. A regiment of carabineers were added and the courtiers were treated to frequent balls and operas.

Louise with her husband and children

With such an independent spirit as Louise Élisabeth possessed the position of an 18th century wife was initially daunting. Her contemporaries expected her to be solely in charge of the court whereas her husband were to deal with the substantial matters of state. Undoubtedly, such a way of living would have been unbearable to the former Madame Royale. However, she was remarkably lucky in that aspect. As noted earlier, Philip was neither dominant nor jealous of his prerogatives. He trusted his wife's intelligence and had come to depend upon her to such an extend that she was involved in almost all decisions at court - a thing that would have been unthinkable back in France. 

Despite having her own duchy now, Louise Élisabeth remained very much a frenchwoman. As such, she rarely every made a political decision without considering how it would affect her beloved France. This was far from popular with her people and the court soon ran into financial problems. The only positive seemed to be that she found herself pregnant again. This time, she gave birth to a son and heir, Ferdinand, on 20 January 1751. Very shortly afterwards, Louise conceived for the third and final time. She would give birth in September 1751 to her second daughter, Luisa Maria Theresa Anna.

As if these concerns were not grave enough, Louise Élisabeth was soon deprived of her best friend: her sister, Henriette. Henriette died in 1752 after a short illness and Louise Élisabeth once again returned to France to visit her tomb. While there, she took the opportunity of pleading her duchy's cause and took an active part in the political negotiations with both Paris and Madrid. She was remarkably successful: 25.000 francs, 2.000.000 in taxes and ad-hoc assistance when needed was agreed upon. In return, France's influence at the court of Parma became official.

Louise Élisabeth with her eldest
daughter at Fontainebleau

Returning to Parma, her influence was immense. It was she who appointed the new principal minister - naturally a frenchman - and continued her political works. In an effort to further both her son's heritage and the interests of France, she completely supported the new alliance between France and Austria. Eyeing the opportunity for carving out a kingdom for her husband - the Austrian Netherlands were to be ceded - she returned to France again in 1757. For once, she was not successful and had to see not only her hopes for the Austrian Netherlands crushed but the confirmation of the Spanish king as the successor to Parma, should their line die out.

Louise Élisabeth had other mattes to attend to as well while she was at Versailles. Her eldest daughter was of an age to be married - and what better candidate than France's new ally, Austria? In a triumph, she managed to marry off her daughter to Joseph II, brother of Marie Antoinette. Meanwhile, she also found a suitable wife for her only son: Maria Amalia of Austria. A double marriage was therefore concluded between Parma and Austria.

At Versailles, Louise Élisabeth was feeling increasingly unwell. To the horror of her family, she was diagnosed with smallpox which she would not survive. Louise Élisabeth died on 6 December 1759 and was buried next to her twin sister.

New Year Splendor: The Etrennes of Versailles

In these days, the tradition of giving gifts to loved ones on Christmas is predominant in the Christian world. However, in the age of the Ancien Régime, such gifts were exchanged in celebration of the new year; in comparison, Christmas was reserved for religious ceremonies. The gifts were known as "etrennes" and were far from a new invention; quite on the contrary, it had been a tradition at the court of France for centuries. The gifts themselves exchanged within the royal family gives an insight into both the personal tastes and relations as well as the extravagance expected from a royal court.

Giving out gifts was not reserved solely for the nobility's friends; some noblemen bestowed smaller signs of their gratitude to their households - including their servants. Naturally, considering the sheer scale of some aristocratic households these would be of a smaller nature. Before the birth of Louis XIV, in 1603, the governess employed by the family of La Trémoille was given 12 livres which was not a small sum.

Louis XIV

In December 1684, Madame de Montespan - who had recently been evicted from her splendid apartment on the ground floor - made a magnificent present to her royal lover. The Marquis de Dangeau relate that she presented Louis XIV with a book bound in gold and containing miniature depictions of the Dutch cities conquered by the French king in his campaign of 1672. She had apparently also recruited both Racine and Despréaux - the Marquis estimated that the book had cost her 4.000 pistoles. In return, Louis XIV  ensured that her magnificent estate of Clagny would pass on to her children after her death.

On occasion, the gift in question could be cash - for instance, Madame de Maintenon received 12.000 livres from her royal lover, while both the Grand Dauphin and Monsieur each got 4.000 pistoles in 1685.

The short-lived favourite, Mademoiselle de Fontagnes, made a rather unusual new year's gift for Louis XIV's son by Madame de Montespan: the Duc du Maine. The young boy was nearly five years old when he received the gift on 12 January 1675 - the gift itself has been immortalized by the Comte de Bussy-Rabutin. Mademoiselle de Fontagnes had had a "room" built which was the size of a table and depicted a bedchamber in remarkable detail. Besides the usual furniture of a bed, writing desk, chairs etc. the "room" also had its proper inhabitants made of wax - including the Duc du Maine himself and a new figure: Madame Scarron, his governess who would later become known as Madame de Maintenon. Besides these, several familiar faces to the young boy was present including his tutors and Madame de Lafayette.

In an interesting twist, Madame de Montespan realised that she would gain no ground with Louis XIV by publicly snubbing the young Mademoiselle de Fontagnes. Therefore, she presented her with a new year's gift composed by La Fontaine and consisting of predictions for the coming four seasons. It was not the first - or last - time that the occasion of a new year's gift exchange was used as a tool for manipulation in the game for the king's heart. As the governess of the king's children by Madame de Montespan, Madame de Maintenon was eager to show off her progress with her pupil. As such, she sent a packet to his parents of his letters and the clever things he had said so they could see for themselves how well he was learning. That particular present was given in 1679 - and it was far from the most spectacular one received by Madame de Montespan.

Monsieur gifted her with a "gold salver exquisitely chiselled with a border of emeralds and diamonds, and two golden goblets with the lids encrusted with emeralds and diamonds". While the author of that line (Madame de Scudéry) did not know what the king had given her, she was sure it could not be less than what she had gotten from his brother.

Naturally, a particularly well-chosen present might just result in a rise to favour which everyone at court knew. In 1699, the ladies who served Marie Adélaide of Savoy, Duchesse de Bourgogne, gathered their presents in a large basket which they had brought in just when the king was visiting. As they had hoped for the king took the trouble of looking them over and praising some of them.

Louis XV

Like his predecessor, Louis XV did not shy away from giving his nearest and dearest a gift of cash. The dauphin, Louis Ferdinand, thus received 100 louis on New Year's Day. On occasion, gifts of a financial nature could be given in a different manner. For instance, for the New Year of 1770, Madame du Barry received a brevet for a life-long interest in the "Lodges de Nantes".

While Louis XIV appears to have given gifts rather more freely to his family members, Louis XV used the occasion to show his appreciation - or displeasure. For instance, in 1740, it was widely noted that the king only gave a single present to a lady of the court: Madame de Vintimille, who would later become his mistress. In contrast, he completely refrained from making his own wife a gift in 1737 after she had given birth to their last daughter - their marital relations were strained at this time, as she had allegedly refused him access to her bed (after 10 years of constant pregnancies) and he had been disappointed that only two of those had resulted in sons.

The poor queen was the centre of another inconsiderate action by Louis XV on this subject. When he finally did give a New Year's gift, it was a gilded snuffbox which had a watch in the lid - it had also originally been made for Madame de Pompadour which was well-known to the whole court. Whether the queen knew herself is not certain but if she did, she hid it well.

Even Madame de Pompadour was not immune to the king's changing habits when it came to his new year's gift. Whereas she had received 50.000 livres and a diamond necklace in 1747 that number was cut to 24.000 in 1749 and 1750 - and after that, such expenses no longer figure in the king's expenses.

Louis XVI

Thanks to his meticulous nature, Louis XVI kept a journal of his personal expenses which includes his personal presents for his nearest family.

On an almost yearly basis he gave his sister, Madame Élisabeth, a sizable amount in cash. However, in the years 1780-83, the king truly spoiled his sister with jewellery worth 148.864 livres. The king had commissioned the pieces from Ange-Joseph Aubert and the gifts included necklaces, rings, snuffboxes etc.

Much like the gift received by Montespan the previous century, Marie Antoinette is said to have received a similar one by her own son, the young dauphin. The story goes that she had lamented that her son (aged four or five) could not read at all to which he promised her that he would make an endeavour. Allegedly, the following New Year's Day he proudly met with his mother and read a few words from a book he had brought with him.

As the financial situation in France grew ever more dire, Madame Campan recalled how Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI had donated the money that would otherwise have been spent on presents for their children. Instead, it was used to feed and clothe the poor through the cold season.

As can be seen from the above, the "etrennes" were a firm fixture of the royal family. However, their courtiers - and presumably those outside the court - were not shying away from the tradition either. One good example gives an insight into a struggle many parents have faced. The 10-year old daughter of the Duc de La Force was apparently acting up and caused her father to threaten to withhold her gifts - whether he followed through is a matter of conjecture, though.

Naturally there were opponents of such gifts - there always seem to be some. Several clerics went so far as to claim that the etrennes were nothing less than pagan while Jacob Son published "De l'Origine d'Etrennes" in 1674 which also spoke heartily against them. Even Madame de Sévigné and her daughter were against them. In a letter of 27 December 1684 from the former to the latter, Madame de Sévigné  commended her daughter for "suppressing" the etrennes which she claimed was "great expense to no purpose".

Creations: Marquises (Louis XIV)

From the time he was officially declared of age - 1651 - Louis XIV would remain the sole arbiter of power in France. As such, the Sun King surrounded himself with his courtiers as a constant reminder of his position. In order to reward his faithful courtiers, he would occasionally bestow titles on them - including that of Marquis. Ranking just below a Duke and just above a Count, the title of Marquis was a rather high position - especially, since the dukedoms were a special class within the nobility.

Note that these marquisates are only the ones that were actively created by Louis XIV; there were others which had been in place prior to his birth and thus are not included in this post. Furthermore, it is widely recognized that a complete list cannot be compiled for certain as documents have been lost over time. This is further complicated by the existence of courtesy titles which were not always officially registered with the Parlements. Yet, we do have a sense of the amount of new titles created during the age of Versailles.

From 1651 until his death in 1715, Louis XIV bestowed the title on 198 men - and a few women. Amongst these were:

Madame de Maintenon - the last maitresse-en-titre to Louis XIV who received her marquisate of Maintenon in 1675. As such she would have her own title, in comparison to her predecessor, Madame de Montespan, who was still referred to by her husband's title: the Marquise de Montespan.

Louis Phélypeaux - a scion of the La Vrillière-family, he had served as Minister for Protestant Affairs for a staggering 52 years; that means that he was already in that office when Louis XIV was born. He was made Marquis de Tanlay in 1671 but already held the title of Marquis de Châteauneuf.

Louis Phélypeaux

Jean-Baptiste Colbert - the king's steady Minister of Finance from 1665-83, he ensured that the king had a steady income for his numerous wars and building projects. He also served as Minister of State and had taken over from Mazarin as the Prime Minister. He was made Marquis de Seignelay in 1668.

Henri de Guénégaud - having served as Minister of State (of the king's household), he was rewarded when his barony of Plancy was merged with the viscounty of Syé to create the new marquisate of Plancy in 1656. He was a legacy from Louis XIII's time and would later become Minister for Foreign Affairs.

Henri de Guénéguad

Charles-François de Vintimille du Luc - receiving the title of Marquis du Luc in 1688, Charles-François had served the king in almost every possible way. Serving as a musketeer, he lost an arm in the king's service before turning his attention to politics. He was then sent as ambassador extraordinary to Switzerland and other places. He actually held four other marquisates; those of des Arcs, de La Marthe, de Vins and de Savigny as well as the title of Comte du Luc.

François Quentin de La Vienne - possessing one of the most coveted positions at court from 1679 til 1710, François was the First Valet de Chambre of Louis XIV. As such, he had much close contact with the king and enjoyed a larger degree of trust than other servants in the king's household. He was awarded with the title of Marquis de Champcenetz in 1688.

François Quentin

Interestingly, there were only two years in which no new marquises were created: 1701 and 1706. In comparison, the year with the most new creations was 1653 - shortly after he was officially recognised as being of age. In this year, the young king created no fewer than eight new marquisates. 

Another interesting thing to note is that Louis XIV increasingly bestowed a marquisate of the men who were in charge of settling disputes within the nobility. These men were otherwise known as Lieutenants to the Marechaux de France. This alone shows the increasing emphasis placed by the king on controlling the very sphere in which his courtiers lived.

For a courtier wishing to acquire a marquisate, there were generally two ways to achieve this: by royal favour or by money. The king could easily bestow a marquisate on a favoured courtier but this required just that - favour. In the race to gain admittance to the king's inner circle, some would inevitably falter. But these could still hope to achieve their marquisate by striking a deal with a marquis in desperate need of cash.

Titles for money were nothing new, neither were the exchange of positions within the royal household for a corresponding amount. Madame (Elizabeth-Charlotte of the Palatinate) relates one such instance in her numerous correspondence which clearly shows the extremely steep prices one could claim for a marquisate. She refers to Marc de Beauvau, Prince of Craon. While both very wealthy and already possessing the title of Prince de Craon and having inherited the marquisate of Beauvau, he sought to further his position by buying another marquisate worth 800.000 livres. Apparently, he was successful as he was officially recognised as the Marquis de Craon in 1712. 

One way in which the king could elevate a courtier without depriving another of land was to combine land already in the possession of the intended marquis. For instance, if the courtier in question owned several seigneuries or even some counties, the king could combine them into a single entity and make that a marquisate. Thus, he did not have to go to the trouble of confiscating land or ordering several complicated legal maneuvers to achieve his goal.