Courtly Guillotine Etiquette in France

Courtly gentlemen, nobles of the old regime, rehearsed them in the etiquette suitable for those condemned, in order that no one might by confused or awkward when the summons came. — The depictions of Marie Antoinette and another condemned prisoner, in 1920’s attire relieves some of the tragedy of the story overall.

How Marie Antoinette Stood Before Accusers Unflinching and Doomed Aristocrats Developed Etiquette for the Occasion 

Thanks to the books of hundreds of chroniclers, and at least one historic painting, every well-informed school child knows something of the last anguished hours of Marie Antoinette. How before being led forth for death, she protested against the shame of having her hands lashed behind her, as were a common criminal, and pointed out her husband had been left unpinioned in his ride to the place of execution. How her enemies disregarded her plea and tightly corded her wrists, so that the kindly priest who accompanied her in the dreadful journey, repeatedly pressed against the knotted rope in an effort to ease the pain in her bruised flesh. How in a crude cart she jolted over the cobbled streets of Paris, her head held erect and face bared to the taunts and jeers of the populace. 

How when passing the palace where she had spent her happiest hours, the widowed Queen fell into a faint. How reviving both her will and her spirit, she did not wince at sight of the guillotine but with dignity climbed its wooden steps and even begged the pardon of one of the executioners upon whose toe she accidentally trod in mounting the platform. How she suffered herself to be strapped to the board and how quietly she lay there while they were adjusting the mechanism of the great blade which a moment later sheared through her slender neck. In years, she was still young —only thirty seven —but eye-witnesses recorded that she looked that morning like an old woman, worn and haggard. Her hair in less than three months had turned almost white. 

Thanks also to many veracious accounts, we know of the proud courage of so many of Marie Antoinette’s fellow-prisoners, doomed as she was, to be sacrificed to the fury of the populace, acting through the caprices of a tribunal which gave to each of them the mockery of a trial, and the certainty in most cases, of conviction. Aristocratic ladies locked in foul prisons almost gaily cropped their heads in anticipation of the fall of the knife. Courtly gentlemen, nobles of the old regime, rehearsed them in the etiquette suitable for those condemned, in order that no one might by confused or awkward when the summons came. They practiced binding each other. The women discussed the question of appropriate dressings of the neck. A whole code of manners was evolved by these gallant souls that awaited a legalized slaughter. — By Irvin S. Cobb, 1925

Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J Graber, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia

Dressing Etiquette at Versailles

Another Valet of the Wardrobe brought a clean shirt, but he had no right to hand it to the persons who were to put it on the King. The honor of handing the clean shirt to those persona was reserved to the sons and daughters of France, or, in their absence, to the Princes of the Blood or those legitimatized, or in default of these, to the Grand Chamberlain or the First Gentleman of the Bedchamber.

A hundred years ago, the Court of France was ruled by an etiquette so pompous and ceremonious as to make the King’s life a burden to himself and a jest to a philosopher. He was never alone, except at rare intervals. The eyes of forty or fifty persons saw him dress and undress, and the operation of putting on his shirt was something fearful. The Grand Master of the Wardrobe drew off the King’s nightshirt by the right arm, and the First Valet of the Wardrobe by the left arm, and both of them united in handing the nightshirt to an officer of the wardrobe. Another Valet of the Wardrobe brought a clean shirt, but he had no right to hand it to the persons who were to put it on the King. The honor of handing the clean shirt to those persona was reserved to the sons and daughters of France, or, in their absence, to the Princes of the Blood or those legitimatized, or in default of these, to the Grand Chamberlain or the First Gentleman of the Bedchamber. The shirt having been regularly and formally delivered, the First Valet of the Wardrobe and the First Valet de Chambre held up the garment by the right and left sleeves respectively, while two other valets extended a dressing gown in front of the King to serve as a screen. Behind this screen, his Majesty at last got the shirt on his back. Every day, immediately after being dressed, the King said his prayers. And it is to be hoped that he never failed to offer up a devout thanksgiving for having passed safely through the awful process of putting on his shirt, and that the coming man, would be able to make for the coming King, shirts that could be put on with more ease and less ceremony. – The Morning Union, 1883

Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia