Showing posts with label Versailles Courtiers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Versailles Courtiers. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2024

Cast Iron Law Etiquette at Versailles

Kirsten Dunst as “Marie Antoinette” and Judy Davis as “Madame Etiquette” in the 2006 film “Marie Antoinette” depicting a similar scene as to the second anecdote described below. – Image source, Pinterest

STRICT RULES OF ETIQUETTE:
In Ancient France Everything Went by Cast Iron Law

In Baron Rothschild’s recent book of anecdotes he tells some curious tales of the extremely stringent rules of etiquette which prevailed at the French Court in the reign of Louis XVI. Marie Antoinette christened the Comtesse de Noailles, “Madame Etiquette.” Once, when she fell from a donkey in her private grounds, she jumped to her feet and cried out, laughing: “Go and fetch Mme. de Noailles; she will tell us what is prescribed for a Queen of France when she falls off a donkey.”
One cold winter night, when the Queen was undressing, the maid was handing her the chemise de nuit when the lady in waiting came in, to whom, as being of of superior rank, the garment had to be given over. She could not touch it, however, until she had removed her gloves, and before that operation had been performed the Duchess d’Orleans, a princess of the blood, turned up, and after her, the Comtesse de Provence, who was of higher rank still, so that the chemise had to be handed from one to the other, while the Queen stood waiting and shivering. At last, unable to contain herself any longer, she exclaimed: “It is odious! What a nuisance!” — In “The Mirror,” 1896



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

Friday, February 26, 2021

Manners of a First Gentleman

First Gentleman of his realm... Louis XIV was also known as Louis the Great (Louis le Grand) or the Sun King (le Roi-Soleil). He was a Monarch of the House of Bourbon who ruled as King of France from 1643 until his death in 1715. His reign of 72 years and 110 days is the longest of any Monarch of a major country in Europe's history.


He might express his displeasure by a glance that terrified, by silence that froze, by a lettre-de-cachet that sent an offender to the Bastille, but he never failed in courtesy. “Never was man so naturally polite or of a politeness so measured, so graduated, so adapted to person, time, and place.” It might be possible to question his ability as a warrior, his wisdom as a statesman, even his duty as a King, but there could never be the slightest question as to his being the First Gentleman of his realm. 

He was the type, and whenever a courtier failed in dignity, in tact, in grace, in courtesy, he fell short of the model that moved before his eyes. It was, however, almost impossible for the courtiers to display in their words and actions the naturalness that accompanied the King. He was above all and supreme. He rose or sat, he smiled or bowed, he spoke or was silent, at his pleasure. 

There was never any doubt in his mind as to his attitude; there were constant difficulties in the minds as to their attitudes. His rank was unquestioned; their ranks clashed constantly. He was serene; they were anxious. On the other hand, they felt no sense of responsibility for public affairs; he had to bear the burden of the faults of his lieutenants. They could retire and relax; he was always on the stage. His courtesy never contradicted itself. — From “Versailles and the Court Under Louis XIV” by James Eugene Farmer, 1906


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


Sunday, October 4, 2020

Duke of Saint-Simon on Versailles

Saint-Simon’s Memoirs are a rich treasure trove of observations and critiques. He turned his forensic eye on all of the major players at Versailles, providing occasionally fierce judgements on life behind the scenes at the palace. 
—Photo source, public domain


A Tattletale’s Mémoire  


Louis de Rouvroy, Duke of Saint-Simon, was born at Versailles in January 1675. His father Claude, the first duke, had been a page and favorite of Louis XIII, who appreciated his talent as a huntsman and the fact that when he blew into his hunting horn, he did not slobber. At 16, Claude’s son became one of Louis XIV’s musketeers and joined in the Sun King’s campaigns during that monarch’s endless wars. When he was 18, his father bought him a company of cavalry at whose head he fought in the bloody battle of Neerwinden in 1693, after which he was promoted to colonel. Passed over for promotion to general a few years later, he resigned from the army. He was 27. Though he had been keeping a journal since 1694, his “Memoirs” proper begin in 1691. They end in 1723, 32 years before his death; and they paint a prodigious, personal, petulant, prejudiced portrait of a remarkable time and of the remarkable man who portrayed it.

Puny, spare, sickly, drawn, thin-lipped, sharp-nosed, nervous, choleric, stubborn, sour-tempered, Saint-Simon was an old man’s son. Claude had been almost 70 when Louis was born, and his descendant showed the wear. So did Louis’ descendants: The diarist’s daughter was deformed, his elder son feeble and the younger one, prey to terrible convulsions, may have been epileptic.

Rash in his actions and reactions, our man was subject to fierce passions, his temper and the body he called his “frail machine” recurrently wracked by outbursts of rage: He was fretful, sulky, vexed over nothings, violent in humor, intemperate, with no trace of restraint. There was no need or heed of self-control: For Saint-Simon, pride governed all. He was a noble, and for him French nobility was the greatest— essentially the only— nobility that counted in the world.

He was a duke and peer. After the king himself, after legitimate princes of the blood, only dukes counted. Dukes were a race apart, above mere “people of quality” who dared aspire to approach the king. Far greater than that of lesser folk, Saint-Simon’s pride was the pride of a duke claiming descent from Charlemagne, not of a nobleman or a mere gentleman on whose kind he looked down, as he did more vertiginously on “the vile bourgeoisie.”

There was good reason to be wary of the bourgeois. Unlike most of his contemporaries, our author saw that, throughout the reign of Louis XIV, the Third Estate had been grasping at the levers of power. Commoners had become administrators, magistrates and ministers of state who governed the land and public opinion by their command of letters, and public affairs by their control of finance.

He looked with suspicion on clerks, men of letters, the great courts of law called parliaments, the war machine of the literate plebs called the Academy. He turned baleful eyes on the materialism for which they stood, the power of money, the temptations of conspicuous consumption and on the decadence of a noble First Estate, no longer truly noble, reduced to the level of the populace except that their plebeian rivals were free to work, to trade, to earn, even to serve in the military, while nobles wallowed in idleness and nonproductiveness.

He did not detest the common people. He loved them, or he thought he loved them, paternalistically, as a lord of the Middle Ages might have: in their place, whence they should not challenge his rightful place.

He strove to realize his anachronistic pretensions, he battled, he intrigued, he failed, and his failures infuriated him. Pride turned to vanity, which we know as vexation of spirit, and to pretentiousness. Trivial pursuits became primordial: precedence, etiquette, who should salute whom first, who might sit in the king’s presence, dine at his table, keep his hat on before a duke and peer or cross the throne room in a straight line or diagonally.

His contemporary, the Marquis d’Argenson, himself a diarist, described Saint-Simon as a canting little fool full of conceit, “unjust, odious, and anthropophagous.” Had d’Argenson been able to read the “Memoirs,” he might have thought again. Or maybe not.

Gimlet-eyed concerning individuals, Saint-Simon ignores the historical events around him, perceiving political and social affairs only in terms of personalities, cliques, gestures within the narrow compass of the court.

Contemporary figures that history retains are slighted or pass unnoticed. He doesn’t seem to have heard about Saint-Evremond the essayist or Montesquieu the political philosopher. He refers to Voltaire only as the son of his father’s solicitor, exiled for impudent verse. He despises the French Academy as a place where no gentleman should venture. He deplores his great friend, the Duke of Orleans, dabbling in painting and in chemistry: fads and deprivations of a spirit “born bored,” and too blase for serious pursuits like intrigue or hunting.

In an age in which history turned around kings, queens and other exalted personalities, Saint-Simon was the compleat insider. Involved yet semi-detached, he stood at the center of the central court in Christendom, reported its doings, described its personalities and etched their settings.

Slyly droll in many comments, voluptuous when he savors vengeance, skeptical on principle, credulous when it suits his purpose, he builds his petite histoire out of the dust of history--like a termite tower, but one clad in inexhaustible verbal richness. Envy and jealousy sharpen his perceptions as they do his pen. Fury and hate chafe him. When they burst out, the basic sourness erupts in vitriol, in flames, in delirious descriptions of humiliation and revenge.

Yet this sensitivity, this propensity to intrigue, these ears and eyes ever ferreting for fuel served his curiosity and whetted his talent. So, despite his faults, he gives a wonderful picture of a certain society at a certain time; he names names and identifies personalities, achievements, flaws.

Suspecting, accusing, despising, he presses his curiosity to delve beyond the surface and beyond what’s just below the surface, to plumb hearts and motives to the marrow. Hating, he searches for chinks and weaknesses and finds them, he snuffles until he turns up a truffle: some hidden (preferably shameful) secret, a blemish or a taint.

He seldom stops to think. He does not reflect on acts or people, but he reflects them like a mirror, sometimes a deforming mirror, rapid, dry, callous, clear, zeroing in on the telling detail, sketching a vivid fresco of contemporaries, the more lifelike for being distorted by passion at times:

“Madame de Montchevreuil was a great creature, skinny, yellow, who laughed silly and showed long ugly teeth, of a formal bearing, lacking only a wand to be a perfect fairy.” About Guillaume Dubois, who would become a cardinal and first minister of the king: "[A] small thin man, cutting and mean of mien, with a blond wig and looking like a weasel. All the vices struggled in him over which one would win.”

Saint-Simon’s portraits breathe and move; whiffs of rumor, gossip and prejudice freshen the scenes, cameos and descriptions, especially of situations he has witnessed. A sermon fills two princesses with contrition; they debate penance and conclude that they will order their lackeys to fast. Old Marshal de Villeroy, “an old hand at court,” observes that you hold the chamber pot for a minister in power but empty it over his head when he’s on the skids.

Passionate himself, Saint-Simon’s writing flares coldly: subtle, often bitter, magnificently ferocious, negligent of proprieties, expressive, sensational, vital. His pen probes court society, its trivialities, its corruptions, its built-in decay. His cracks explode like firecrackers: “Smallpox made him blind in one eye, wealth made him blind in both.” “She was a real heiress: rich, ugly and sullen.” A friend’s brother is “as nasty as stupidity allows.”

This goes on for volume after volume, through 11 manuscript tomes, 98 files, countless portfolios and bundles, enough in transcript for a lifetime’s browsing even if you don’t know a thing about the age.

In the 1960s, Lucy Norton translated and edited the thousands of pages of the “Memoirs,” rendering them into three fat volumes “intended for the pleasure of the general reader.” The three volumes now on sale bear out her claim. The translation is clear, crisp and dry as a cold white wine; the English is less harsh and angular than the original French but just as distinguished, as robust, as full of verve. Specialists will go to the original; most readers of French will, too.

But the version Norton offers as “an appetizer” represents more than that: an introduction and a tribute to “things of beauty wrought no more,” which is how Marcel Proust, who loved to ramble through these pages, described Saint-Simon’s spellbinding masterpiece. — By Eugen Weber, for the Times, September 2000


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

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

An Etiquette Problem at Versailles

"Reception of Condé in Versailles"—  Depiction of the great Escalier des Ambassadeurs, in Versailles of 1674, when Louis XIV welcomed the Grand Condé, who has just defeated William of Orange in the battle of Seneffe. This event marked the end of almost fifteen years of exile for the Grand Condé, which had been designed by the king to punish "his cousin" for leading the Fronde against the monarchy.







Painfully Ill from the Etiquette at Versailles?

'The royal court of France used to be a great place for etiquette. Louis XIV once caught a severe cold owing to the fact that on his arising from his bed one cold morning, the lord of the chamber, whose duty it was to hand him his shirt, happened to be absent. Not one of the numerous courtiers present had the courage to trangress etiquette by handing the garment to the shivering monarch."—London Scrap Book, 1908

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

Monday, November 16, 2015

Etiquette and Louis XV's Court Dance

Dancing the minuet– The minuet became a most fashionable dance in the 17th and 18th centuries.
An 18th century formal ball was one of the very limited opportunities at which a young lady could increase her chances of meeting suitors and finding a husband. A complete knowledge of etiquette and social codes, along with a graceful carriage and fine dress, was necessary to making the most advantageous match.

“Delighted with the minuet, Louis XV made it the special dance of the French royal court— and it was at court that the dance acquired it's exquisite grace and beauty.” –Lillian Eichler



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

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

More Etiquette of Louis XIV

The Sun King's bedchamber at Versailles –The most minutely elaborate character, and governed every movement of the King and those about him from the very moment he opened his august eyes until he closed them in sleep.


Minutely Elaborate Etiquette of Louis XIV

The etiquette which prevailed at Versailles during the reign of Louis XIV was of the most minutely elaborate character, and governed every movement of the King and those about him, from the very moment he opened his august eyes until he closed them in sleep. 

He was the center of the whole. It was a drama daily repeated— the same characters, the same scenes, the same details— oppressive in its sameness, fatiguing in its constant pressure. I have neither the space nor the inclination to dwell on all the extraordinary ceremonial of the State dinner; the twenty or thirty grandees fluttering around the King’s plates and glasses, the sacramental utterances of the occasion: the gaudy procession of the retinue; the arrival of “la nef” — that is, the center piece of plate which contained, between scented cushions, the King's napkins; and pessai des plats— the tasting of each dish by the gentlemen servants and officers of the table before the King partook of it. The same custom was observed with the beverages. It took four persons to serve the King with a glass of wine and water. 

Well, might Frederick the Great, on hearing an account of all this tyranny of etiquette, exclaim that if he were King of France his first edict would be to appoint another King- to hold court in his place— all the year round.  –Scribner's Magazine, 1891



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

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Versailles Etiquette

The point about Versailles was that there was no escape: the courtiers had to "make it" where they were. The stage was Louis's, and the roles that could be played were designed by him. It was up to each courtier to fit himself – or herself – into one of the slots provided.  The leaders of all the other towns and villages of France were made, largely through the use of etiquette, and more specifically through rudeness and judicious slighting by the tax-collecting intendants, to feel their subordination, the distance from the court.  Once, the nobility had relied on strength, swagger, and vigor, even violence, personally to make their mark and uphold their honour; at Versailles, the way to success became discretion, observation, cunning, and the dissembling of one's aims and passions. 


"During the 17th century, in France, manners became a political issue. King Louis XIV and his predecessors, in collecting together the nobility of France to live with the sovereign at Versailles, instituted a sort of school of manners. At the palace, the courtiers lived under the despotic surveillance of the king, and upon their good behavior, their deference, and their observance of etiquette their whole careers depended. If you displeased a Louis, he would simply "not see you" the following day; his gaze would pass over you as he surveyed the people before him. And not being "seen" by the king was tantamount to ceasing to count, at Versailles. A whole timetable of ceremonies was followed, much of it revolving around the King's own person. Intimacy with Louis meant power, and power was symbolically expressed in attending to certain of the king's most private and physical needs: handing him his stockings to put on in the morning, being present as he used to chaise percée, rushing when the signal sounded to be present as he got ready for bed. It mattered desperately what closeness the king allowed you - whether he spoke to you, in front of whom, and for how long. 


The point about Versailles was that there was no escape: the courtiers had to "make it" where they were. The stage was Louis's, and the roles that could be played were designed by him. It was up to each courtier to fit himself – or herself – into one of the slots provided. The leaders of all the other towns and villages of France were made, largely through the use of etiquette, and more specifically through rudeness and judicious slighting by the tax-collecting intendants, to feel their subordination, the distance from the court. Once, the nobility had relied on strength, swagger, and vigor, even violence, personally to make their mark and uphold their honour; at Versailles, the way to success became discretion, observation, cunning, and the dissembling of one's aims and passions. At Versailles, and at the courts all over Europe which imitated it - everything was done to make it very clear who was superior to whom; and of course, each time anyone was polite, he or she was simultaneously acknowledging rank and demonstrating who stood where.

The new manners - both the formal rules of protocol and precedence and the unspoken, more profoundly enculturated rules like table manners - were seen increasingly, according to Elias, as ways in which one did not offend other people. You were controlling yourself, so as to prevent other people from being disgusted or "shocked." People lived very closely together at Versailles; everyone was watched by everyone else, and actual physical proximity helped raise some of the new sensitivity to other people's real or imagined susceptibilities. 

Men were expected on the whole to give up physical force as a means of getting their way, and - as always when "the graces" are preferred over brute strength - women begin to count for more. Within the aristocratic court circle, people became, in spite of the obsession with rank, far more equal. Secure in the knowledge that just being at court was the pinnacle of prestige, from which most of society was shut out, courtiers could permit themselves to respect each other.

As the bourgeois became richer and more indispensable even at court, they demanded - and were given, by self appointed experts who wrote manuals for them - instruction in how to behave as people did in "the best circles." In 1672, Antoine de Courtin produced "Nouveau trait' de la civilité' qui se pratique en France parmi les honnestes gens" or The "New Treatise of the Civility Which is Practiced in France Among Honest People." ("Honest" -hônnete- kept its original association with honour and the opposite-but-supporting motion, shame.) De Courtin writes about manners for both hosts and guests, and invite advises his bourgeois readers on how they should address the nobility. The church in France also produced handbooks of manners and talk to precept in schools. Gradually gentility spread down from the court to the bourgeois, and finally trickled further down to the rest of the population.

The bourgeois were even stricter about standards of civility than were the nobility were; having no ever-present King do enforce the rules, they imposed restraints on themselves. Being more anxious to rise, they had more to lose by making slips and gaffes; so their self-inhibiting mechanisms had to be deeper rooted, less obviously the donning of an external personna than the nobility could permit themselves. The policing of emotions became internal, and finally invisible even to themselves: they were able to think that they acted, not in obedience to power and self-interest but for purely moral reasons." –Margaret Visser, in "The Rituals of Dinner"



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

Friday, August 28, 2015

Etiquette: The French Politesse

  Anne d'Arpajon, aka "Madame Etiquette" ~A French aristocrat and first lady of honour to Queens of France, Marie Leszczyńska and Marie Antoinette, Anne d'Arpajon was called"Madame Etiquette" by Marie Antoinette for her insistence that no minutia of court etiquette ever be disregarded or altered in any way.
   (Above is Judy Davis, playing "Madame Etiquette" to Kirsten Dunst's Marie Antoinette, in the movie of the same name.)

France has maintained a ceremonial tradition directly derived from the usages of court life, when a breach in protocol could cost a courtier his apartment at Versailles, when royal infants were born in public, and when foreign princesses arriving to wed the French King were requested to disrobe completely at the border and change into French clothes. France has an almost oriental sense of decorum. As a Chinese professor told Giraudoux: 'Our countries were made to get along. They are the only ones which both have a cuisine and a politesse.'  

But with the Jacobin reaction against the courtly tradition, good manners were denounced as a class weapon. There arose a countertradition of deliberate gruffness. Rudeness in the Jacobin mentality was a way for the common man to affirm his equality. If you called a man a bougre  or a jean-foutre (the two most common Jacobin epithets)  you showed that you were as good as he was. In contemporary France these two traditions coexist. 

Visitors are baffled by the tangle of perfect courtesy and incredible rudeness. This does not mean that some Frenchmen are rude and others are polite. It means that the same man who kisses a lady's hand in a drawing room will half an hour later be grossly insulting to a fellow motorist at a red light. Such inconsistency is only possible because good manners are considered a form of currency which makes it possible to obtain certain amenities in life and thus should be used thriftily and not on strangers.

The polite tradition is considered a rampart of French civilization, a code of behavior which makes life in society possible. Since the 12th century, books on etiquette have been advising the French on how to mop up the sauce and blow their noses. In 1559 Mathurin Cordier wrote in his Mirror of Youth for the Formation of Good Manners and Civility: 'If you blow your nose with two fingers and snot falls on the ground, place your foot over it.' 

Politeness in the French sense is not natural, but contrived. It is precisely because it is artificial that it is recognized as a mark of special attention. It is, as Montesquieu remarked, an embellishment. To present his hand to a lady passing from one room to another he rushes toward her as though she were in danger of falling; he runs to pick up a glove or a handkerchief with as much precipitation as if he were withdrawing it from a fire.

The French gendarmerie's book of etiquette, which is called Advice from an Old to a Young Gendarme describes the correct way to shake a hand:  'The way to shake a hand is equally a sign of good education. It must not be squeezed, or brandished, or slackly dropped. The shaking of the hand must be straightforward and without brusqueness. Too brief, it is discourteous; too prolonged, it indicates a familiarity which is permitted only among intimates.'  Attention must be paid this basic daily ritual of French life. The factory foreman spends ten to fifteen minutes each morning shaking the hands of all the workers in his keep. The busy waiter in a café, his hands wet from rinsing cups and saucers, extends his folded elbow like an amputee to regular customers. Ostracism in France is to spend a day without shaking anyone's hand." — From Sanche de Gramont's, 1969 “The French - Portrait of a People”



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

Friday, July 17, 2015

Etiquette for Versailles Courtiers

A classic study of the life of the nobility at the royal court of France, especially under Louis XIV, by Norbert Elias, showed how courtiers - and finally even the king himself - were entrapped in a web of etiquette and ceremony, how their expenses, even down to details of their houses and household, were dictated by their rank rather than their income.
Courtiers depicted standing behind Kirsten Dunst's "Marie Antoinette" in the movie of the same name. Polite eating habits are very important to the French: Eating with one's mouth shut; finishing one's plate; hands on the table (but not one's elbows); not making slurping sounds when drinking; etc... 
What was a Courtier?

A courtier was a person who one would find was in attendance frequently at a "court" of a reigning monarch. Historically, a court was usually located at a monarch’s residence as it was the central location of most, if not all, of the affairs of the government. The Palace of Versailles was a "court" so enormous, space was provided for most courtiers to reside there.

As life at court would often blur the distinction between the political and the social spheres of government, life for a courtier could be very difficult. This was especially true of the court at the most famous of all royal courts in European history– The court of the Palace of Versailles and of King Louis XIV. 


During his reign, Louis XIV was driven to become an absolute monarch, wanting to attain complete control over all political, economic, religious, and social facets of French life, and he was much more successful than his predecessors in centralizing the state and phasing out the remnants of feudalism. Feudalism was the preceding system, which had endowed the uppermost of the noble class with a significant amount of power and influence. 

The King built the Palace of Versailles outside of Paris to compel the members of his court to spend part of the year living there. They would be in relative isolation from other parts of society. By isolating them, Louis XIV was able to diminish the strength of the nobility by requiring their very presence at his court in Versailles. 
               
The court at Versailles ranged from 3,000 to 10,000 people, all of whom were expected to abide by a complex set of somewhat odd etiquette, rules and customs that he personally established. 


In addition to the complex and often fluctuating rules of etiquette that noble courtiers, in particular, were expected to follow, Louis controlled the behavior of the aristocracy by continually changing or adding accessories to the royal wardrobe. In order to maintain their rank at court, the courtiers were required to observe the latest trends in fashion. In return for their service and loyalty, the king’s courtiers were awarded royal pensions and received access to some of the state’s most privileged ceremonies and celebratory events.

          
The Profile of a Courtier

Because of the enormous size of Versailles, there were thousands of courtiers living and working there at any given time. Among the courtiers there was a rigid social hierarchy that dictated their daily routine and schedule. Some courtiers were not even members of the aristocracy. 

Approximately 5,000 personal servants and 9,000 soldiers for Louis XIV, resided at Versailles, along with the regular services of a wide array of middlemen and agents for the king, including soldiers, clerks, secretaries, and clergymen. 


Courtiers at every level, naturally sought to obtain valuable information as a way to impress the King and gain admiration from him. Access to privileged and valuable information, was one of the most desired commodities a courtier could hope to obtain.

At any class level, many courtiers tried to use their service at court as a means of social mobility. After all, it was considered a great honor and privilege to serve as a member of a royal court. It could potentially lead to an elevation in the courtier's social status, if an ambitious soldier or member of the court administration, was able to attract the king’s attention, gaining his favor.




Etiquette also applied to a courtier’s style of dress, and courtiers were always trying to acquire the latest styles of clothing. 

During the Middle Ages, promotions at court had been frequent, but the divisions between classes at court became more pronounced during the early modern period. By the reign of Louis XIV it had become very difficult for someone who was considered a menial servant to rise through the ranks at court. An unusual exception to this was Alexandre Bontemps, the head valet to Louis XIV. Through his court appointment Bontemps was able to establish his family in the ranks of the nobility. 

Noble courtiers were given access to some of the most privileged positions at court. High-ranking members of the aristocracy who enjoyed a specific role or position at court we considered to be “established” at Versailles. The services that established courtiers were expected to perform were traditionally linked to a specific function or office, and were usually inherited or purchased. Unlike members of court who worked in more menial services, such as barbers, valets and even dog groomers, noble courtiers, like the secretaries of state, desperately sought Louis’s direct approval.

For courtiers, securing living quarters at the Palace of Versailles was an important aspect of life at court. This ensured a secure place for them to reside during their time at court. At any given time, there were approximately 1,000 nobles and their 4,000 servants living at Versailles. Members of the royal family received apartments in the most desirable areas of the palace, such as the apartments with views of the gardens. The established courtiers typically resided in some of the palace’s outbuildings, such as the Grand Lodgings or the Stables. Not only did private accommodations signify social status and rank, they also prevented courtiers from the need to travel back and forth between Versailles and their primary residences.


Etiquette at the Court of Louis XIV

Relocating the court to Versailles and demanding a lengthy attendance at court were merely two of the ways that Louis wielded control over the nobility. In addition to these requirements Louis established an elaborate and strict set of rules and procedures that courtiers were forced to follow. 

Following the proper conduct, or etiquette, at court was an extremely important part of life as a courtier under Louis XIV. Many courtiers spent the majority of their time at Versailles seeking the approbation of the king. They were obligated to regularly visit the royal residences and were expected to always be available for the king. A courtier’s absence from court was considered a punishable offense.

The rules of etiquette at Versailles guided and shaped the social interactions and structure of the court. They also determined and reflected a courtier’s prestige. For example, the rules dictated who was able to approach a high-ranking member of court, and where and when it was appropriate. These rules applied to nearly all areas of a courtier’s behavior, including when and how to sit down and how to address different members of court. 

Etiquette also applied to a courtier’s style of dress, and courtiers were always trying to acquire the latest styles of clothing. There was also a complex and ever-changing set of rules for dancing, and courtiers would spend countless hours preoccupied with learning the latest dance steps.


The following list provides a few examples of the intricate rules of etiquette that courtiers were required to follow at the court of Louis XIV:

People who wanted to speak to the king could not knock on his door. Instead, using the left pinkie finger, they had to gently scratch on the door, until they were granted permission to enter.

A lady never held hands or linked arms with a gentleman. Instead, she was toplace her hand on top of the gentleman’s bent arm as they strolled through thegardens and chambers of Versailles.

When a gentleman sat down, he slid his left foot in front of the other, placed his hands on the sides of the chair and gently lowered himself into the chair.

Women and men were not allowed to cross their legs in public.

When a gentleman passed an acquaintance on the street, he was to raise his hat high off his head until the other person passed.

A gentleman was to do no work except writing letters, giving speeches, practicing fencing, or dancing. 
For pleasure, however, gentlemen were permitted to engage in hawking, archery, hunting and indoor tennis.




Napoleon was one of the rudest monarchs in history


Napoleon Bonaparte on the other hand, outdid Louis XIV when it came to etiquette edicts, while ruling France. According to author Dr. Philip Mansel: 


Napoleon was one of the rudest monarchs in history: he attacked in conversation as well as on the battlefield. He insulted foreign ambassadors, taunted Marshal Berthier, his grand huntsman, and General Caulaincourt, his grand equerry, with their wives’ alleged infidelities, and called Talleyrand, his grand chamberlain (who was also foreign minister), “a lump of shit in a silk stocking”. It was said that Napoleon had a “green laugh”.

Among those who knew him well, Napoleon inspired little personal loyalty: almost all his courtiers turned against him after his defeats in 1814 and 1815, and in both years they forced him to abdicate. Almost all those who followed him to Saint Helena were trying to obtain financial rewards, or material for a book of memoirs, rather than acting out of loyalty. Napoleon maintained court etiquette on the island, keeping courtiers standing in his presence and insisting on being treated as an emperor.

Napoleon’s court also shows him to have been more obsessed with status than other monarchs of the day. He wanted more palaces and more formal etiquette, and was more autocratic than the Bourbons. He had more than 100 chamberlains, and a total of around 3,000 men in his household, whereas Louis XVI had had only four first gentlemen of the chamber, and around 2,000 in his household. In January 1814, when speakers in the chamber of representatives demanded peace, he was infuriated. At a reception in the Tuileries palace, he declared: “Everything resides in the throne. I alone represent the people”. He believed that France needed him more than he needed France.

In June 1815, Napoleon alienated opinion by preferring to wear the elaborate embroidered ‘Petit Costume de l’Empereur’ rather than the uniform of the Paris National Guard. He insisted on sending messages to the chamber of representatives through his chamberlains rather than through a responsible minister. After Waterloo, it voted his deposition.



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

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

French Etiquette and Napoleon Bonaparte

Napoleon Bonaparte outdid Louis XIV when it came to etiquette edicts, while ruling France. 


According to author Dr. Philip Mansel: 

"Napoleon was one of the rudest monarchs in history: he attacked in conversation as well as on the battlefield. He insulted foreign ambassadors, taunted Marshal Berthier, his grand huntsman, and General Caulaincourt, his grand equerry, with their wives’ alleged infidelities, and called Talleyrand, his grand chamberlain (who was also foreign minister), “a lump of shit in a silk stocking”. It was said that Napoleon had a “green laugh”.

Among those who knew him well, Napoleon inspired little personal loyalty: almost all his courtiers turned against him after his defeats in 1814 and 1815, and in both years they forced him to abdicate. Almost all those who followed him to Saint Helena were trying to obtain financial rewards, or material for a book of memoirs, rather than acting out of loyalty. Napoleon maintained court etiquette on the island, keeping courtiers standing in his presence and insisting on being treated as an emperor.

Napoleon’s court also shows him to have been more obsessed with status than other monarchs of the day. He wanted more palaces and more formal etiquette, and was more autocratic than the Bourbons. He had more than 100 chamberlains, and a total of around 3,000 men in his household, whereas Louis XVI had had only four first gentlemen of the chamber, and around 2,000 in his household. In January 1814, when speakers in the chamber of representatives demanded peace, he was infuriated. At a reception in the Tuileries palace, he declared: “Everything resides in the throne. I alone represent the people”. He believed that France needed him more than he needed France.

In June 1815, Napoleon alienated opinion by preferring to wear the elaborate embroidered ‘Petit Costume de l’Empereur’ rather than the uniform of the Paris National Guard. He insisted on sending messages to the chamber of representatives through his chamberlains rather than through a responsible minister. After Waterloo, it voted his deposition."