Archive for the ‘History’ Category
Friday, July 23rd, 2010
When Napoleon Bonaparte died in May 1821, there were fears that rumours would spread about the manner of his death (recent claims included the suggestion that he was poisoned), which may explain why no fewer than seventeen witnesses were invited to observe the autopsy which was carried out the day after he died by the Emperor’s own doctor, Francesco Antommarchi.
On the Emperor’s own instructions, his heart was removed first. Napoleon had asked that it be sent to his wife Marie-Louise, though the heart apparently vanished before it could be delivered. Curiouser and curiouser.
The stomach was carefully examined and at the time it was agreed that cancer was the cause of death. Nothing else is recorded as having been removed. However, within a few decades it was commonly supposed that Napoleon’s penis had been cut off and stored away carefully during the autopsy. Oddly this was not mentioned in any of the seventeen witnesses present at the time of the autopsy. But several commentator (let me tell you the commentators joke, go on!) have suggested that the body was not guarded at all times during the procedure and while everyone’s backs were turned Napoleon’s organ could have been quickly snipped off (Ouch).
Napoleon’s friemd Vignali, who adminstered the last rites, was left a large sum of money in Napoleon’s will as well as numerous ‘personal affects’ – these were not specified however. Thirty years later Napoleon’s manservant claimed that Vignali had indeed removed various parts of Napoleon’s body, but this was not corroborated.
By 1916, the material bequeathed to Vignali had been sold en masse to a London collector, who some years later sold the collection to an American. it was at this point that the peni sstory became more substantial. The description of the collection included the curious phrase mentioning ‘the mummified tendon taken from Napoleon’s body during the post-mortem’.
By the 1930′s A.S Rosenbach, an American collector, was displaying the ‘tendon’ in a blue velvet case and describing it as Napoleon’s penis. It trravelled to France and was later the centrepiece of a grand display at the Museum of French Art in New York.
A newspaper report described the organ as looking something like a maltreated strip of buckskin shoelace or shriveled eel’. Reports – largely stemming from Napoleon himself – that he was particularly well-endowed seem to be contradicted by the fact that the organ was also described as an inch long and resembling a grape. (Id like to see their’s almost 100 years after their death)
The most extraordinary part of this story occurred in London in 1972 when the putative penis was put up for sale – complete with magnificent velvet-lined case – at the London auction house Christie’s along with the rest of the Vignali collection. The collection failed to reach its reserve and was withdrawn. A few years later the penis popped up (pardon?!) again, this time in Paris and unemcumbered by all the other paraphernalia of the collection. The penis was bought by John Lattimer, a retired professor od Urology (apropriately enough) at the University of Columbia for $3,000. The penis is still, as it were, in Professor Latimer’s hands.
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Tuesday, July 13th, 2010
Ive just bought this great book. Its called London’s Strangest Tales
and in amongst all the many, many tales are a few wonderful stories regarding us ladies. I will post the ones of interest over the next few days. Here’s one that caught my eye…
The huge popularity of marzipan in Victorian England (it was far more popular than it is now) is entirely attributable to a cockney girl who became one of the best-known and most sought-after Courtesans in Paris.
Born in Stepney in 1760, Eliza Marchpane grew up in abject poverty – with no schooling and no other way to earn a living, her only option was prostitution. She began by working the pubs along the notoriously dangerous Ratcliffe Highway, but she quickly realised that once her looks were gone her income would dry up.
She set off for Paris knowing nothing of the city or the language. How she lived after arriving we do not know but within a few years she was certainly known to the aristocracy – she dined regularly at the houses of the nobility under the assumed title Marquessa de Marchpane. Her cockney French simply made her sound exotic to the Parisian nobility, who admired her good looks and vivacity. In memoirs of the time she is described as extraordinarily attractive and her fame quickly spread far beyond Paris – she became the darling of the aristocracy in Vienna where it is said she seduced the young Mozart.
Gifts of houses, jewellery and lavish clothing from her admirers had made her rich and when she returned to England in about 1800 she brought with her the recipe for an almond paste she had first tasted in Austria.
Her large house in the West End became a fashionable centre and at every party she gave there were always cakes and other sweets made from almond paste. Eliza ended her days in Brighton where she was for a time the lover of the Prince Regent, whose enormous girth no doubt could be attributed to Eliza’s almond paste. She died in 1830.
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Monday, May 24th, 2010
Oh how fab is this weather? I absolutely love it, it feels like I am on holiday, somewhere warm and balmy. I have been buying lovely plants and herbs for the balconies – it is truly delightful out there. You must come visit.
Long may it continue! Mind you, Ive seen a couple of lobsters around – and they werent intended for my lunches either. Lots of folks walking around looking very pink or even bright red. Not a great look, it looks so sore, ouchy ouch - I so wish they would put some sunscreen on or better still not bake themselves in the full sun (I sound like my mother).
I would rather die than get sunburn (ok not exactly die :) I remember having lunch with Miss Dollymopp last year and we went somewhere by the river; al fresco. It was a nice sunny day and we were both paranoid of the sun getting at us – we were inching our seats under the canopy at the same time, to be in the shade, to save our skin :)
So whilst enjoying this wonderful weather, I did something I have had on my to-do list for ages. I actually booked to do it last year but it was winter, and cold and wet and so I didnt go. I am a fair weather adventurer I am afraid.
I went on a Jack the Ripper tour last night. I did mention it to the fellas who I used to see whilst on tour in London before I moved here and some back in the SW too. So, guys I eventually got round to it.
What is it with people? People like me (and you, if you have been too :) Why are we so morbid? I guess its the same mentality of people watching a hanging, although I would like to think I would draw the line at that! The tour had so many people on it, must have been 150; people just turn up and pay their money and away we go. It was ok though, you got to hear everything that was said. So a jaunt around the east end of London was the order of yesterday. I have always been fascinated by Jack the Ripper. Actually, not just Jack but Victorian life in general, below stairs as it were. I did mention to a couple of the fellas that me going on that tour felt a little – well, wrong – on several levels – a tour about someone butchering prostitutes? Hmm. It wasnt the prostitute element that fascinated me, although that was very interesting, those poor ladies in the 19th century – a very tough life. I have always been more intrigued with the other end of the industry though. The not so blatant world in which ladies had so much more freedom and independence than other women of the age. Girl power if you like. Oh and the glamour and mystery, of course, that has always piqued my interest too :)
I try and have a day off each week (usually a weekend) to be a tourist here in London. I didnt want to make the same mistakes I have made in the past when living somewhere but never actually getting to know the place. So far I have seen the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, been to Tate Britain, Museum of London, Victoria & Albert Museum, a tour of Westminster, a visit to the Houses of Parliament, visits to Borough Market, Columbia Flower Market & Portobello Road, Westminster Abbey, oh and a tour around Covent Garden plus more; and then theres all the restaurants and other invites – I am getting around a fair bit -phew! Lots more to see and do though and it only gets better in this weather. I am available in London throughout Flaming June (crossed fingers) and can tell you all about my new adventures when we meet. x
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Tuesday, August 18th, 2009
I just managed to watch this dvd. I know, I know, I have been wanting to watch it for over a year now! Anyway, I did it and it was good. Thanks Mr N for the gift! x It was more of a love story than I thought it would be, ahhhh. Some great lines in the film too and of course stunning location – Venice. Try and watch it if you can. Its also called The Honest Courtesan for some reason.
Mr M read my post about men’s underpants and bought me a rather fetching pair of Dolce & Gabanna boxers. Hehehehe Very nice they look too, and ever so comfy, maybe I should wear men’s pants all the time ;). Thanks M!
How naughty am I? Only just back from my hols and I am already getting itchy feet. I fancy one of those spa breaks in Thailand or somewhere lush like that. Just a chill out, pamperings, great food and fabulous sunsets. You cant blame me really. Its not as though we have had a great summer (again), I think I blinked when we had those good few days. I get all excited, think this is it and peak too soon. I should appreciate the moment better. I know its a well worn cliche but summers really were better and longer when I was a kid. No I didnt live in the Bahamas (but I may one day :) Ho hum, Im off to check out some holiday sites.
Now you know I dont do quickies, but I couldnt resist…the joke I mean :)
While making love, he says:
- Darling, let’s do 68!
- 68??? What’s that?
- You do it to me and I’ll owe you one.
Hope you are having a good one if you are on holiday xxx
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Thursday, July 9th, 2009
…of 18th Century Venice, placed strips of veal on her face for an hour a day to keep it supple.
She streaked her hair with urine to lighten it.
Her fan was held in numerous different ways to signify willingness or other temptress mannerisms.
A beauty spot at the corner of the eye indicated a passionate nature and one on the throat suggested the lady was shameless.
(And to think, we only have a mere website to entice these days ;)
The Venetian Courtesans were, during their time, the most alluring women in Europe. They were beautiful, clever, witty, well versed in music and poetry and they were at the heart of Venetian society.
Florian’s Caffe on Piazza San Marco was the haunt of the Courtesan (I have sipped champagne there). It is alleged that in 18th century Venice the upstairs of this delightful cafe was the best bordello in town. Now I didn’t know that at the time and I really wish I did now as I could have had a poke and a pry and really explored the place albeit under the watchful eye of the rather surly waiter ;) But I urge you to go there, if you happen to be in Venice and perhaps venture out onto the Piazza, grab a seat and listen to the wonderful music played every night as you gaze at the beautiful Basilica.
~~~~~~~~
Le cortigiane del 18o secolo, Venezia, collocata strisce di carne di vitello per la sua faccia per un’ora al giorno per mantenerla elastica.
Ha i capelli striato con urina di alleggerire la
I suoi fan (la mano varietà) si è svolta in numerosi modi diversi per indicare la volontà e le altre tentatrice manierismi
Una bellezza posto ad angolo con l’occhio di un appassionato della natura e di uno sulla gola suggerito la signora era vergognoso
Le cortigiane veneziane sono state, durante il loro tempo, la più affascinante delle donne in Europa. Erano belle, intelligenti, spiritosi, ben versato nella musica e nella poesia e sono stati al centro della società veneziana
(Sempre la stessa poi, cortigiane, in tutto il mondo, anche oggi:)
Caffé Florian in Piazza San Marco è stato il ritrovo della cortigiana (ho sorseggiato champagne lì). Si asserisce che, nel 18 ° secolo Venezia, il piano di sopra di questo delizioso caffè è stato il migliore in città Bordello
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Sunday, December 7th, 2008
Marie Duplessis (January 15, 1824 – February 3, 1847) was a French courtesan and mistress to a number of prominent and wealthy men. She was the inspiration for Marguerite Gautier, the main character of La Dame aux Camélias by Alexandre Dumas the younger, one of Duplessis’ lovers. Much of what is known about her has been derived from the literary persona and contemporary legends.
Marie Duplessis was born Rose Alphonsine Plessis in 1824 at Nonant-le-Pin, Normandy, France. Her father became her de facto pimp when she was about 12 years old. At the age of 15, she moved to Paris where she found work in a dress shop.
As recorded in art of the day Marie Duplessis was evidently an extremely attractive young woman, with a petite figure and an enchanting smile. By the time she was 16, she had become aware that prominent men were willing to give her money in exchange for her company in both private and social settings. She became a courtesan and learned to read, write, and to stay abreast of world events so as to be able to converse on these topics with her clients and at social functions. She also added the faux noble “Du” to her name.
Life as a courtesan
Duplessis was both a popular courtesan and the hostess of a salon, where politicians, writers, and artists gathered for stimulating conversation and socializing. She rode in the Bois de Boulogne and attended opera performances. She also had her portrait painted by Édouard Viénot.
Duplessis was the mistress of Alexandre Dumas, fils between September 1844 and August 1845. Afterwards, she is believed to have become the mistress of composer Franz Liszt, who reportedly wished to live with her. Throughout her short life, her reputation as a discreet, intelligent, and witty lover was well known. She remained in the good graces of many of her benefactors even after her relationships with them had ended.
Marie Duplessis died of tuberculosis at the age of 23 on February 5, 1847. Two of her former lovers, Swedish Count Von Stakelberg and French count Édouard de Perregaux, whom she had briefly married, were by her side. Within a few weeks of her death, her belongings were auctioned off to pay her debts. Still, her funeral in Montmartre cemetery was said to have been lavish, and attended by hundreds of people.
Dumas’ romantic novel La Dame aux Camélias appeared within a year. In the book, Dumas became “Armand Duval” and Duplessis “Marguerite Gautier”. Dumas also adapted his story as a play, which inspired Verdi’s opera La Traviata and various films, often entitled Camille.
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Wednesday, November 12th, 2008
This is a great story…
Theodora was the wife of Justinian I who was crowned Emperor of the Byzantine Empire in 527 AD. As his wife, she ruled by his side, as his partner, and her intelligence helped to advance the Empire.
The exact place of her birth has not been agreed upon. While some historians say she was born on the island of Crete off the coast of Greece, others speculate that she might have been born in Syria. Whichever the case, she was brought up as the daughter of a bear trainer who worked at the Hippodrome (a huge stadium-like circus), in Constantinople. She worked there as a mime, and later as a full time actress. At the time, acting was not a highly esteemed occupation especially for women. While on stage she was remembered for her daring entertainment skills, off stage however, she lived a normal youthful life and was most remembered for her wild parties.
At the age of 16, she traveled to northern Africa as the companion of an official. (A Courtesan) She stayed there for 4 years before returning to Constantinople. She stopped by Alexandria, the capital of Egypt and here she adopted Monophysitism. This was a form of Christianity that believed that Jesus Christ was wholly divine and not both human and divine as was the orthodox Christian belief. Monophysites were thus not liked by orthodox Christians since their teachings did not conform to those of the orthodox church. On conversion to Monophysitism, she gave up her former lifestyle, and upon reaching Constantinople in 522, settled down as a wool spinner in a house near the palace of the Emperor. It was while in this humble lifestyle, at the age of 20, that she drew the attention of Justinian, then a government official.
Theodora was not only beautiful, but intelligent, witty and amusing, which is perhaps why she won Justinian’s love so much that he appealed against an old Roman law that forbade officials from marrying actresses in order to marry her. Justinian and Theodora were married in 525. In 527, Justin, the emperor of Byzantium, and Justinian’s father died. The couple assumed control of the Empire and were crowned Emperor and Empress on 4th April of that same year. They ruled unofficially as joint monarchs with Justinian allowing Theodora to share his throne and take active part in decision making.
Throughout her life, Theodora and Justinian transformed the city of Constantinople, building it into a city that for many centuries was known as one of the most wonderful cities in the world. They built aqueducts, bridges, and more than 25 churches, the most significant of these being the Hagia Sophia – ‘Church of Holy Wisdom’. To women, Theodora may well be considered a noble pioneer of the women’s liberation movement. She passed on laws prohibiting forced prostitution and established homes for prostitutes, passed rights that granted women more rights in divorce cases, instituted the death penalty for rape and established laws allowing women to own and inherit property. She also provided safe shelter for Monophysite leaders who faced opposition from the majority orthodox Christians, even though her husband Justinian was an orthodox Christian.
Empress Theodora died on 28th June, 548. Her body was buried in the Church of the Holy Apostle, one of the splendid churches that she and Justinian had built in Constantinople. Beautiful mosaics in Empress Theodora’s remembrance exist to this day at the Church of San Vitale at Ravenna in Northern Italy (see pic above). Even after her death, her spirit lived on, and in this way she was able to have influence on the Empire. Through what she had begun, Justinian was able to bring harmony between the Monophysites and the Orthodox Christians, and the status of women in the Byzantine Empire was elevated high above that of the women in the Middle East and Europe.
Ref: http://www.thenagain.info/webChron/EastEurope/Theodora.html
Here’s a beautiful picture of Theodora. I love it!
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Friday, October 31st, 2008
Do you find this as fascinating as I do?
Catherine “Skittles” Walters (13 June 1839 – 4 August 1920) was a fashion trendsetter and, along with Alice Keppel, was one of the last of the great courtesans of Victorian London.
Walters was rumoured to have had leaders of political parties and a member of the British royal family amongst her benefactors. She was born the third of five children at 1 Henderson Street, Toxteth, Liverpool and moved to London before her twentieth birthday. Her father was Edward Walters, a customs official, who died in 1864. Her mother was Mary Ann Fowler.
Her nickname is thought to have originated from her working at a bowling alley in Chesterfield Street near Park Lane. (Skittles is the game which evolved into bowling.)
Her classical beauty was matched by her skill as a horsewoman, for which she was almost equally renowned.
In the 1860s the fascinating sight of Catherine riding on Rotten Row in Hyde Park drew huge crowds of sightseers. Aristocratic ladies copied the cut of her perfectly fitting “Princess” riding habit, and she was well known as a trendsetter. She was depicted in Sir Edwin Landseer’s 1861 painting “The Taming of the Shrew,” as a young woman controlling a frisky horse.
A letter written to the The Times in July 1861 described in detail the fever of anticipation caused by Catherine’s waiting admirers:
“Expectation is raised to its highest pitch: a handsome woman drives rapidly by in a carriage drawn by thoroughbred ponies. The driver is attired in the pork pie hat and the Poole paletot [a kind of loose-fitting cloak] introduced by ‘Catherine’, but alas!, she caused no effect at all, for she is not ‘Catherine’; she is only the Duchess of A-, the Marchioness of B-, the Countess of C-, or some other of ‘Catherine’s’ many imitators.” At last their patience was satisfied and Catherine herself appeared; she threaded her way through the throng, “commented upon by the hundreds who admire her and the hundreds who envy her”, speaking to a chosen few along the way. This done, “she turns, and drives back again towards Apsley House, and then away into the unknown world, nobody knows whither”.
She counted among her lovers Spencer Cavendish, the Marquess of Hartington (later the eighth Duke of Devonshire), whom she pursued to New York during the American Civil War; Napoleon III; the future King Edward VII; and the first love of the poet Wilfrid Scawen Blunt, who remained infatuated with her for the rest of his life.
During her life as a courtesan, her discretion and loyalty to her benefactors became the focal point of her career. There were many rumors about her being involved with certain wealthy men of the time, but she never confirmed nor denied these. This gave her great weight in the courtesan lifestyle, and made her a sought after commodity. This also gave long life to her career, and helped her to retire a wealthy woman of society around 1890.
She died of cerebral haemorrhage at her home at 15 South Street, Mayfair, and was buried in the graveyard of the Franciscan Monastery at Crawley.
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Monday, October 20th, 2008
Probably not PC, but never mind eh? Tomorrow is Trafalgar Day and I am aware of it because of the (many) glorious times I have spent at special Trafalgar night dinners at the Royal Naval Officers Mess :) Not I must add in my capacity as Miss Charles, but shall we say, in a former life… Ahh those navy boys know how to throw a party – all very proper, etiquette rules supreme, passing the port and whatnot. Happy days (sigh). Now that the navy has almost gone and left us and dear old Manadon College is sadly just a memory, I thought I would dig up some info on Trafalgar Day for your delectation…
Trafalgar Day is the celebration of the victory won by Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson’s British fleet over the combined French and Spanish fleets at the Battle of Trafalgar on 21 October 1805. It was widely commemorated by parades, dinners and other events throughout much of the British Empire in the 19th and early 20th centuries.
Its celebration declined rapidly after the end of the First World War in 1918. The massive casualties and upheaval had changed the general public perception of war as a source of glorious victories to a more sombre view of it as a tragedy, for which the newly instituted Armistice Day on 11 November was felt more appropriate.
2005 was the 200th anniversary of Trafalgar, and the Royal Navy led Trafalgar 200 celebrations. The International Fleet Review, the first since Her Majesty The Queen’s 1977 Silver Jubilee, was held off Spithead in the Solent on 28 June.
The victory is celebrated each year in the Australian town of Trafalgar, Victoria in which the small town of 2,200 hold an annual Battle of Trafalgar Festival with the Trafalgar Day Ball held on the Friday or Saturday closest to 21 October each year. Sea cadets of the united kingdrom also celebrate this day with usually a parade of a town.
I feel a rendition of ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ coming on :)
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Saturday, August 23rd, 2008
Don’t you just love all these names? hehehe Victorian puritanism at it’s best. Ok, I always used to say, ‘Do you know what?, I have never been in a brothel’ (hushed voice while you say it). Actually, when I think about it, that’s not true, I have! Well, it was a building (a backpacker’s place) in San Francisco that had been a brothel during the gold rush days. I had totally forgotten about that! It was a little bit fab, faded glory and all that – naughty pictures still evident on the ceilings but sadly everything else was left to the imagination. So yes, I can say I slept in a brothel :) Oh and while I am on the subject, do you know that song ‘There is a house in New Orleans, it’s called the Rising Sun….’ I went there too, that was a brothel but is now a restaurant. I can see a pattern forming, without me even realising, I am a brothel creeper hahaha.
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