Daily Life During the French Revolution by James M. Anderson Page B

at
a time.
    She also had created a little village there that became her
own private fairyland. Eight thatched cottages were built with fractures in the
plaster walls to make them appear old, their gardens filled with fruit trees
and vegetables. There were barns for livestock, cows in a small field, a
poultry yard, and a little mill. A farmer was hired to look after it all. To
the cows, goats, sheep, rabbits, pigeons, and chickens Antoinette gave pet
names, and derived contentment from the miniature farm and her imaginary world.
She enjoyed dressing like a peasant and amused herself acting out the life of a
rural woman in the mock village. All the queen’s enormous expenses were met by
the public purse, and the people knew it and resented it. Those who paid the
bills through their toil and taxes were not so enamored of her little hamlet or
with anything else she spent money on to gratify her desires. A real peasant
girl working as a farm servant would have earned fewer than 30 livres per year.
Many of the inhabitants of France were in a state of near-starvation in 1789
because of a bad harvest, and most of them by this time vehemently hated the
queen. Some imagined that the shortage of bread and the soaring prices were
deliberate—an aristocratic conspiracy to keep them down and in their place.
“Let them eat cake!,” a statement in circulation (wrongly attributed to the
queen), increased the people’s appetite for revenge on the foreigner from
Vienna who was so indifferent to their plight.
    The palace at Versailles was a microcosm of artificiality,
conceit, jealousy, gossip, social climbing, stiffness of manners, cumbersome
dress, flirtations, secret notes, and clandestine rendezvous, with little
bearing on the reality of the ordinary people of France.
     

    Portrait of Marie-Antoinette of Austria, Queen of
France and Navarre, wife of Louis XVI.
     
     
    COURTIERS
     
    Daily life at court was often tedious. Courtiers had time
on their hands to gossip, gamble, drink, and plot. They lived in cramped
quarters with little light and fresh air; they jostled for space in the
crowded, noisy salons and gala events and could never relax in public or appear
uninterested. It was imperative to be alert, pleasant, tactful, and graceful
and to smile even when the lice under the wig were nibbling relentlessly and
the tight, pointed shoes incited rebellion among the toes.
    The ambition of every courtier was to advance to higher
office, gain more privileges, and grow wealthy. It could be a laboriously long
road. Courtiers had to flatter superiors while keeping inferiors in their place.
One might stand for hours each morning in the chamber next to the royal
bedchambers waiting and hoping to be noticed and admitted into the king’s
presence to perform even the most insignificant task. Small recognition could
lead to better circumstances at court.
    Not yet privileged to dine with the king and queen or other
notable personages, courtiers took their meals in the large communal dining
hall, or Grand Commun. Here they ate with their fellows and conversed
with writers, artists, scholars, lawyers, or judges who were visiting the
palace on business or who were living there while performing some task or duty.
    One recurrent theme in conversation was how to get away
from palace life, even for a short time, and enjoy dining out and attending the
theater in Paris. Most courtiers were always short of money, however, and many
were in debt, especially to wigmakers, as theirs had to be the very best, made
of human hair. Inferior horsehair wigs would be frowned on. The high prices of
these and of hairdressers was a serious concern, as were the changing
fashions—both required a substantial outlay of money. Nevertheless, to owe
sizable amounts of money was expected of a person of taste and breeding. One
who was known to economize was left in danger of gossip and lack of advancement
on the palace merry-go-round.
    The mythos of Versailles attracted many to