My Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning

lifestartsatsixty:

Jean Duplessis-Bertaux’s ‘Run on the Tuileries on 10. Aug. 1792 during the French Revolution (1793)
Today in History: The Storming of the Tuileries Palace
On August 10, 1792, during the French Revolution, a mob — with the backing of a new municipal government of Paris that came to be known as the “insurrectionary” Paris Commune — besieged the Tuileries palace. King Louis XVI and the royal family took shelter with the Legislative Assembly. This proved to be the effective end of the French Monarchy (until it was restored in 1814). Early on the morning of August 10 the insurgents assailed the Tuileries. The vanguard of the Faubourgs, composed of Marseillais and Breton fédérés arrayed on the Carrousel, cannon turned against the château. De Joly and Champion returned from the Assembly, stating that the sixty or eighty members present were not sufficient in number to debate and that their proposition had not been heard. The king announced to the defenders of the château his intent to go to the National Assembly and placed himself, along with his family, ministers, and the members of the département, between two ranks of national guards, summoned as an escort. While still on the grounds of the Tuileries, a deputation of the Assembly met him and offered asylum. Passing through an animated mob, the king and his family had great difficulty in reaching the hall, where they took the seats reserved for the ministers. A few of the assailants advanced amicably, and the Swiss Guards threw some cartridges from the windows in token of peace. Nonetheless, firing broke out; it is unknown which side started it and whether they did so intentionally. The Swiss Guard, a disciplined professional regiment of the old Royal Army, had the early advantage, but were heavily outnumbered by the attacking force, who were backed by cannons. Advancing from the courtyard in front of the Palace, the Swiss were caught in flanking file from the Louvre gallery and fell back to the main entrance of the Palace. The insurgent National Guard rallied and returned to the attack. The King had sent a note (which has survived) ordering the Swiss to cease fire and retire to their barracks. His intention appears to have been simply to avoid further bloodshed but the Swiss officers in command realised the futility of such an order in the midst of heavy fighting and did not immediately act on it. However the position of the Guard soon became untenable as their ammunition ran low and casualties mounted. The King’s note was then produced and the defenders ordered to disengage. The main body of Swiss Guards fell back through the palace and retreated through the gardens at the rear of the building. There they were surrounded near the central fountain, broken into small groups and slaughtered piecemeal. The Gardes Suisse remaining in the palace were hunted down and killed, as were a number of servants and courtiers who were not able to melt into the crowd.
Of the 950 Swiss Guards at the Tuileries about 600 were killed in the fighting, or when attempting to surrender by the attackers, who were infuriated at their action in firing on the crowd. About 60 were escorted as prisoners to the Hotel de Ville but were massacred there. Others died in prison of their wounds or were killed during the September Massacres that followed. In all only about 100 Swiss are believed to have survived. The gentlemen at arms, who numbered only about 200, were inconspicuous in civilian clothing and were mostly able to escape in the confusion.

Jean Duplessis-Bertaux’s ‘Run on the Tuileries on 10. Aug. 1792 during the French Revolution (1793)

Today in History: The Storming of the Tuileries Palace

On August 10, 1792, during the French Revolution, a mob — with the backing of a new municipal government of Paris that came to be known as the “insurrectionary” Paris Commune — besieged the Tuileries palace. King Louis XVI and the royal family took shelter with the Legislative Assembly. This proved to be the effective end of the French Monarchy (until it was restored in 1814).

Early on the morning of August 10 the insurgents assailed the Tuileries. The vanguard of the Faubourgs, composed of Marseillais and Breton fédérés arrayed on the Carrousel, cannon turned against the château. De Joly and Champion returned from the Assembly, stating that the sixty or eighty members present were not sufficient in number to debate and that their proposition had not been heard.

The king announced to the defenders of the château his intent to go to the National Assembly and placed himself, along with his family, ministers, and the members of the département, between two ranks of national guards, summoned as an escort. While still on the grounds of the Tuileries, a deputation of the Assembly met him and offered asylum. Passing through an animated mob, the king and his family had great difficulty in reaching the hall, where they took the seats reserved for the ministers.

A few of the assailants advanced amicably, and the Swiss Guards threw some cartridges from the windows in token of peace. Nonetheless, firing broke out; it is unknown which side started it and whether they did so intentionally. The Swiss Guard, a disciplined professional regiment of the old Royal Army, had the early advantage, but were heavily outnumbered by the attacking force, who were backed by cannons. Advancing from the courtyard in front of the Palace, the Swiss were caught in flanking file from the Louvre gallery and fell back to the main entrance of the Palace. The insurgent National Guard rallied and returned to the attack. The King had sent a note (which has survived) ordering the Swiss to cease fire and retire to their barracks. His intention appears to have been simply to avoid further bloodshed but the Swiss officers in command realised the futility of such an order in the midst of heavy fighting and did not immediately act on it. However the position of the Guard soon became untenable as their ammunition ran low and casualties mounted. The King’s note was then produced and the defenders ordered to disengage. The main body of Swiss Guards fell back through the palace and retreated through the gardens at the rear of the building. There they were surrounded near the central fountain, broken into small groups and slaughtered piecemeal. The Gardes Suisse remaining in the palace were hunted down and killed, as were a number of servants and courtiers who were not able to melt into the crowd.

Of the 950 Swiss Guards at the Tuileries about 600 were killed in the fighting, or when attempting to surrender by the attackers, who were infuriated at their action in firing on the crowd. About 60 were escorted as prisoners to the Hotel de Ville but were massacred there. Others died in prison of their wounds or were killed during the September Massacres that followed. In all only about 100 Swiss are believed to have survived. The gentlemen at arms, who numbered only about 200, were inconspicuous in civilian clothing and were mostly able to escape in the confusion.

(via duchessofwellington)

"…the Lord Admirall made ready eight of his worst shippes, besmeared with wild-fire, pitch, and rosin, and filled with brimstone and other combustible matter, and sent them downe the winde into the dead of the night under the guiding of Young and Prowse, into the Spanish fleete. Which when the Spanyards espied approaching towards them, the whole sea being light with the flame thereof, supposing that those incendiary shippes, besides the danger of the fire, were also provided of deadly engins and murdering inventions, they raised a pittifull cry, weighed anchor, cutt their cables, and in a terrible panic feare, with great haste and confusion put to sea. Amongst which the great Galleasse, having broken her rudder, floated up and downe, and the next day fearefully making towards Calys, ranne aground upon the sands…"

—

Camden, Annales Rerum Angliae et Hiberniae Regnante Elizabetha, 1588,Section 26

First hand account on the tactics used by sir Francis Drake to outsmart the Spanish Armada in the Battle of Gravelines.

(via hominisaevum)

(Source: awesomestories.com, via hominisaevum)

hominisaevum:

Hoc Die: Naval Battle of Gravelines

picture: The Spanish Armada and English ships in August 1588, by unknown painter (English School, 16th century)

During the undeclared Anglo–Spanish War (1585–1604) the Spanish Armada fleet sailed against England under the command of the Duke of Medina Sidonia in 1588, with the intention of overthrowing Elizabeth I of England.

The day after the English had wrecked the crescent formation of the Spanish Armada and caused havoc, they attacked the Spanish fleet. This battle is known as the Battle of Gravelines because it took place just off the port of Gravelines, a Spanish stronghold in Flanders, part of the Spanish Netherlands, but near the border with France. The Duke of Medina Sedonia had been unable to reform the Spanish fleet at Calais, due to a south-easterly wind, and was forced to regroup at Gravelines.

The English had learned from previous encounters with the Spanish fleet and so used new and more successful tactics. They had learned from capturing the Rosario in the Channel that the Spaniards could not easily reload their guns, so with their smaller and lighter ships, the English were able to provoke the Spaniards into firing, but keep out of range, and then close in for the kill. As the Spaniards tried frantically to reload, the English ships took advantage of the situation by getting close to their enemy and firing repeatedly.

"Good humor may be said to be one of the very best articles of dress one can wear in society."

— William Makepeace Thackeray (via thelibrarianontherun)

William Makepeace Thackeray

cosascool:

Bulldogs in fancy dress (1905)

Library of Congress

(via klg19)

titianhaired:

Classic literature is still something that hangs in the air like a song. -G.K. Chesterton

"[We read] the ‘Iliad’ […] because all life is a battle, the ‘Odyssey’ because all life is a journey, the Book of Job because all life is a riddle."

— G. K. Chesterton (via ifthestarsweremine11)

(via ifthestarsweremine11-deactivate)

hey, are you a sophist? because you look Gorgias: “A Summer With Virgil” by Bruce Thornton

classicallybred:

hey, are you a sophist? because you look Gorgias: “A Summer With Virgil” by Bruce Thornton
anagignosko:

“A Summer With Virgil” (Bruce Thornton): From Homer’s Iliad to Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War, these five classics make for sublime and delightful beach reading.

http://www.hoover.org/publications/defining-ideas/article/120691

“To read the Latin & Greek authors in their original,” Thomas…

What a great article! What a great find!

August 7th - Is Today Dr Watson’s Birthday?

always1895:

Mike Hagan, who happens to be the Tantalus for The Stormy Petrels of Maumee Bay (a BSI Scion since 1974) in Toledo, OH, recently emailed me inquiring about the possible date(s) of Dr John H. Watson’s birthday. In particular Mr Hagan wanted to know whether or not I thought July 7th or August 7th was the more appropriate date to celebrate the birth of everyone’s favorite “one fixed point”.

We all ‘know’ - thanks to rigorous speculation and pleasant wishful thinking by Christopher Morley and friends - that Sherlock Holmes’s birthday falls on January 6th. In fact we are so sure that Holmes was born on this date that the annual BSI Week in NYC (as well as the Sherlock Holmes Society in England) is scheduled to coincide with said date. (I sometimes wonder how many Southern or West Coast Sherlockians wish that Morley’s reasoning had led to a more temperate date?) But what of Holmes’ best friend and Boswell? Is Watson not equally deserving of some speculative gymnastics for determining a date on which to celebrate his birthday?

After receiving Mr Hagan’s question, William S. Baring-Gould’s excellent and still highly relevant biographical study of the Great Detective Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street: A Life of the World’s First Consulting Detective (1962) immediately came to mind*. And of course after a quick perusal I came across ‘Appendix I: The Chronological Holmes’ (p. 293) where WSB states that John Hamish Watson was born on Saturday, August 7, 1852.

But because we are Sherlockians, one date - one specific, simple, uncontroversial date - is never enough…

Michael Hardwick in The Private Life of Dr Watson: Being the Personal Reminiscence of John H Watson MD mentions on page 10 that John Hamish Watson was born on July 7, 1852.

[The excellent and quite entertaining dusk jacket for The Private Life of Dr Watson by Michael Hardwick.]

When doing a search for “Watson’s birthday” in my digital copy (from the CD-ROM) of the BSJ (from 1946 - 2000) I received four unique references:

1) BSJ - September 1974 (Vol.24 No.3) ‘Doctor Watson - A Case of Identity’ by Betty Jo Graves.

The first line (it’s a poem) states: “Written on the Occasion of Watson’s Birthday.” Though the poem never refers to an actual date, we might assume that Ms Graves had the August date in mind since the BSJ issue in which it appeared is from September.

2) BSJ - December 1974 (Vol.24 No.4) From ‘The Scion Societies’ section (p. 245)

“Noble and Most Singular Order of the Blue Carbuncle of Portland, Oregon - The Annual Watson’s Birthday Party was held on 7 July with thirty members in attendance. Anne Kirwin provided both Watson’s birthday cake and a Mr. Magoo Sherlock Holmes cartoon. Following the cartoon, innumerable bottles of champagne provided ample opportunity for uncountable toasts to the indomitable doctor.”

3) BSJ - June 1988 (Vol.38 No.2) From ‘The Sherlockian Societies’ section (p. 119).

The Silver Blazers of Louisville, Kentucky announced that “Finally, agreement was reached to hold quarterly meetings, two of them on or near 6 January and 7 August to commemorate Holmes’s and Watson’s birthdays, respectively.”

4) BSJ - December 1991 (Vol.41 No.4) From ’The Sherlockian Societies’ section (p. 246).

Mrs Hudson’s Cliffdwellers of NJ mention that “A highlight of the meeting was the ‘Let’s Hear It for Dr. Watson” homework assignment, for which the members had to complete a limerick suggesting a date for Dr. Watson’s birthday.” Unfortunately, no specific date is mentioned though I’d be curious if any current Cliffdwellers have a record of any of these limericks. The piece mentions Bob Thomalen being in attendance and by total coincidence he is actually on my ‘to email’ list for this month, so I’ll be sure to mention it to him.

So if you are so inclined - regardless if my modicum of evidence has swayed you in one direction or another - join me in wishing the good (the best!) doctor a very happy birthday on this day, August 7th.

A special note of thanks to Mr Mike Hagan of The Stormy Petrels of Maumee Bay of Toledo, OH for inspiring this post.

Notes:

* Though WBG’s Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street: A Life of the World’s First Consulting Detective (1962) is still relatively easy to come by used in either hard- or softcover, Christopher Roden & Barbara Roden of Calabash Press recently announced a forthcoming e-book version which is due out in late September (last I heard). Along with providing an searchable version of an excellent Sherlockian book, I hope the Roden’s re-release turns on an entirely new generation to the serious(ly) fun and whimsical speculation of WBG’s Holmesian biography.

[Photo of one of my copies of WBG’s classic Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street.]

** Pure Coincidences: The Literary Agent, ACD, died on July 7th, 1929. Edward Hardwicke, the brilliant actor who took on the role of Watson after David Burke for Granada was born on August 7th, 1932 (Thanks to @BakerStJournal for the reminder!).

*** Finally, check out this 2000 article from Sherlock Peoria’s Brad Keefauver “Birth of a Watson, Birth of a Canon” for further speculation.

staysandstories:

One of the many Blackadder quotes that has routinely made its way into my everyday conversations.

(via trockneblumen)

Blackadder