The Lost King of France

I have just finished The Lost King of France by Deborah Cadbury, the biographical account of Marie Antoinette's son who grew up in the tumultuous time of the French Revolution, and whose death has been surrounded by mystery and confusion for centuries.

'In 1795, Louis XVII, the ten-year-old son of Marie-Antoinette, was declared dead by the revolutionary authorities. Immediately, rumours spread that the Prince had escaped from prison and was, in fact, alive. In time, several 'Princes' appeared to claim his name and inheritance, but which, if any, was the real Louis-Charles? The quest for the truth finally runs to the present day as modern DNA testing of a stolen heart leads to an exciting conclusion to this extraordinary two hundred-year-old mystery.'

Additive in its intrigue and well-researched history, this book is one of the best I have read about the French Revolution and the fall of Marie Antoinette and her family from royal splendour. Records of the conditions in which the royal family were imprisoned are heartbreaking, especially the treatment of the child prince. Wonderfully written, I highly recommend The Lost King of France.

Star Wars Palace Facing Ruin

This is heartbreaking. An article found here on The Telegraph, also posted below, reveals the impact of the global recession on historical buildings such as Reggia di Caserta, an Italian palace in Caserta, southern Italy. Originally a royal palace, it was built for the Bourbon king of Naples; the largest palace and one of the largest buildings constructed in 18th Century Europe. Although designated to be a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1997; its status has not saved it from deterioration. Here is a post I wrote about Reggio di Caserta; its history and design.

Star Wars palace facing ruin

Italian heritage officials have raised the alarm over the deteriorating state of a palace which has featured in a number of Hollywood films, including Star Wars, after pieces of falling masonry nearly struck a group of tourists.

by Nick Squires, Rome

8 October 2012

Cultural heritage authorities have appealed to the Italian government for urgent funds to preserve the former Bourbon royal palace of Caserta, near Naples, which has been called Italy's answer to Versailles.

Last week a family of visitors was almost hit by a chunk of cornice which fell from the facade of the huge palace, which doubled up as the Vatican in Mission: Impossible III and the prequel to the Da Vinci Code, Angels and Demons.

Paola Raffaella David, a senior cultural heritage official in the region, said the fact that bits were crumbling off the vast palace was "serious".

"In the last 10 days two pieces of the exterior have collapsed as a result of the deterioration of the iron clamps which hold the marble to the facade.

"We are seriously worried because the piece of the cornice that broke off comes from an area that was restored only 30 years ago." She called on the culture ministry to carry out urgent inspections of all the entrances to the building, through which thousands of visitors pass each day.

It is estimated that up to seven million euros (£5.66 million) are needed to carry out repairs and restoration – a sum that may be hard to come by as Italy buckles under government spending cuts and a tough austerity drive.

"We will try to find the money. We have the duty to protect this monument, which is a World Heritage site," said Gregorio Angelini, the director of cultural heritage for the Campania region.

The palace was commissioned by a Bourbon monarch, King Charles III, in the 1750s and was intended to rival Versailles.

One of the largest palaces in Europe, it has 1,200 rooms and took nearly a century to build.

In Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace and Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, it stood in for the palace of Queen Amidala, played by Natalie Portman.

In November last year the palace had to be temporarily closed because there was not enough money to pay the 150 staff to work on a public holiday.

Reggia di Caserta

Here is the description from UNESCO about Reggia di Caserta.

'The monumental complex at Caserta, while cast in the same mould as other 18th-century royal establishments, is exceptional for the broad sweep of its design, incorporating an imposing palace and park, and also much of the surrounding natural landscape and an ambitious new town laid out according to urban planning precepts of its time. The industrial complex of the Belvedere, designed to produce silk, is also of outstanding interest because of the idealistic principles underlying its original conception and management.

In 1734 Charles III, son of Philip V, became King of Naples, a self-governing kingdom that was no longer part of the Spanish realm. He decided in 1750 to build a new royal palace, to rival the Palace of Versailles. It was designed to be the centre of a new town that would compete with leading European cities. He employed architect Luigi Vanvitelli, then engaged in the restoration o St Peter's in Rome. The Bosco di San Silvestro, on the two hills of Montemaiuolo and Montebriano, was covered with vineyards and orchards when in 1773 Ferdinand IV decided to enclose it and create a hunting park.

The hill of San Leucio takes its name from the Lombard church at its top. A hunting lodge, the Belvedere, had been built at its foot in the 16th century by the Princes of Caserta. The fief had been purchased by Charles Ill, and in 1773 Ferdinand IV initiated work on the Old Hunting Lodge, to be abandoned after the death of his son. In 1778 the king decided to begin the production of silk. His architect, Collecini, converted the building for this purpose, as the centre of a large industrial complex, including a school, accommodation for teachers, silkworm rooms, and facilities for spinning and dyeing the silk. He issued a series of laws in 1789 to regulate the San Leucio Royal Colony: this laid down piecework rates of pay, abolished dowries, and prescribed similar clothing for all the workers, in a form of proto-socialism. During the next decade plans were made for enlargement of the village, and Collecini produced designs for a town, to be known as 'Ferdinandopolis', but this dream was not realized because of the French occupation.

The fishponds in the gardens of the Royal Palace, the Royal Silk Factory and the planned new town all required large amounts of water, and so the Carolino Aqueduct was built (completed in 1769) to bring water from the Fizo spring over a distance of 38 km to the top of Montebriano. In 1744 Charles III acquired the rich Carditello estate. The hunting lodge there was built in 1784, as part of a complex of rural houses and roads radiating fanwise from the main building. This had the royal apartments in the centre and rooms for agricultural and stock-rearing activities on either side.

The Royal Palace is rectangular in plan, with four large interior courtyards intersecting at right angles. It covers 45,000 m2 and its five storeys rise to a height of 36 m. An indication of its scale can be judged from the fact that there are 143 windows on the main facade and the building contains 1,200 rooms and 34 staircases. The building is constructed in brick, the two lower storeys being faced with travertine ashlars. The whole structure is crowned by a central cupola. In front of the main facade is the elliptical parade ground. Inside, there are three octagonal vestibules, aligned on the main axis of the building and acting as fulcrums for the entire complex. The monumental main staircase gives access to the royal apartments, which are decorated and furnished in 18th-century style. The chapel, inspired by that at Versailles, opens out of the lower vestibule. Another noteworthy feature is the Royal Theatre, a superb example of 18th-century design.

The park, which lies behind the palace, was planned by Luigi Vanvitelli but completed by his son Carlo. The main axis is punctuated by a series of Baroque fountains and stretches of water. This magnificent perspective terminates in the Great Fountain, where water cascades down from a height of 150 m into an ornate basin that depicts Diana bathing, observed by the unfortunate Actaeon.

In 1734 Charles III (Carlo Borbone), son of Philip V, became King of Naples, a self-governing kingdom that was no longer part of the Spanish realm. He decided in 1750 to build a new royal palace, to rival, and perhaps outdo, the palace of Versailles, as the symbol of the new kingdom. It was designed to be the centre of a new town that would also compete with the leading European cities. He employed the famous architect Luigi Vanvitelli, at that time engaged in the restoration of the Basilica of St Peter's in Rome. The tist stone was laid in 1752 and continued throughout the reign of Ferdinand IV, Charles's successor, until Vanvitelli's death in 1773.

The Bosco di San Silvestro (Wood of St Sylvester), on the two neighbouring hills of Montemaiuolo and Montebriano, was covered with vineyards and orchards when in 1773 Ferdinand IV decided to enclose it, together with some adjacent land, and create a hunting park. The building there served as a hunting lodge on the upper floor, the lower being used for agricultural purposes.

The hill of San Leucio takes its name from the Lombard church at its top. A hunting lodge, known as the Belvedere, had been built at its foot in the 16th century by the Acquaviva family, Princes of Caserta. The fief had been purchased by Charles Ill, and in 1773 Ferdinand IV initiated work on the socalled Old Hunting Lodge, to be abandoned after the death of his son. Between 1776 and 1778 the Belvedere was restored, the main hall being converted to a church.

In 1778 the King decided to begin the production of silk. His architect, Collecini, converted the building for this purpose, as the centre of a large industrial complex, including a school, accommodation for teachers, silkworm rooms, and facilities for spinning and dyeing the silk. He issued a series of laws in 1789 to regulate the San Leucio Royal Colony: this laid down piecework rates of pay, abolished dowries, and prescribed similar clothing for all the workers, in what has been described as a form of protosocialism. During the decade that followed, plans were made for enlargement of the village, and Collecini produced designs for a town, to be known as "Ferdinandopolis," but this dream was not realized because of the French occupation.

The fishponds in the gardens of the Royal Palace, the Royal silk factory, and the planned new town all required large amounts of water, and so the Carolino Aqueduct was built (completed in 1769) to bring water from the Fizo spring over a distance of 38km to the top of Montebriano. The final stretch runs through the Tifatini hills, where the medieval village of Casertavecchia, with its Romanesque cathedral, forms part of the panorama visible from the Royal estate.

In 1744 Charles III acquired the rich Carditello estate. The hunting lodge there was built in 1784, as part of a complex of rural houses and roads radiating fmwise from the main building. This had the Royal apartments in the centre and rooms for agricultural and stock-rearing activities on either side. The courtyard in front, which has the shape of a Roman circus, was used for racing horses and decorated with fontaim and obelisks. In the 19th century Ferdinand II expanded the agricultural activities.'

 

The grand palace has over 1200 rooms, including 24 state apartments, an expansive library, and its own theatre. There is also a large garden that stretches 120ha; with fountains, cascades, and a botanical garden designed by Carlo Vanvitelli and John Graefer in the 1780's.

At the end of World War II, Reggia di Caserta was the seat of the Supreme Allied Commander, and in April 1945, the signing of the unconditional German surrender of forces in Italy took place at the palace. The first Allied war trial was also located at the palace in 1945.

Marie Antoinette's last letter

Marie Antoinette’s last letter, to her sister-in-law Madame Elisabeth in the early hours of 16 October 1793. It never reached Elisabeth, rather Robespierre kept it.

Following is the French, and then an English translation:

Ce 16 octobre, à quatre heures et demie du matin.

C’est à vous, ma soeur, que j’écris pour la dernière fois. Je viens d’être condamnée, non pas à une mort honteuse – elle ne l’est que pour les criminels, mais à aller rejoindre votre frère. Comme lui innocente j’espère montrer la même fermeté que lui dans ses derniers moments. Je suis calme comme on l’est quand la conscience ne reproche rien. J’ai un profond regret d’abandonner mes pauvres enfants. Vous savez que je n’existais que pour eux et vous, ma bonne et tendre soeur, vous qui avez par votre amitié tout sacrifié pour être avec nous, dans quelle position je vous laisse ! J’ai appris par le plaidoyer même du procès que ma fille était séparée de vous. Hélas ! la pauvre enfant, je n’ose pas lui écrire, elle ne recevrait pas ma lettre, je ne sais pas même si celle-ci vous parviendra. Recevez pour eux deux ici ma bénédiction ; j’espère qu’un jour, lorsqu’ils seront plus grands, ils pourront se réunir avec vous et jouir en entier de vos tendres soins. Qu’ils pensent tous deux à ce que je n’ai cessé de leur inspirer : que les principes et l’exécution exacte de ses devoirs sont la première base de la vie, que leur amitié et leur confiance mutuelle en fera le bonheur. Que ma fille sente qu’à l’âge qu’elle a, elle doit toujours aider son frère par les conseils que l’expérience qu’elle aura de plus que lui et son amitié pourront lui inspirer ; que mon fils, à son tour, rende à sa soeur tous les soins, les services que l’amitié peuvent inspirer ; qu’ils sentent enfin tous deux que dans quelque position où ils pourront se trouver ils ne seront vraiment heureux que par leur union ; qu’ils prennent exemple de nous. Combien, dans nos malheurs, notre amitié nous a donné de consolation ! Et dans le bonheur on jouit doublement quand on peut le partager avec un ami, et où en trouver de plus tendre, de plus uni que dans sa propre famille ? Que mon fils n’oublie jamais les derniers mots de son père que je lui répète expressément : qu’il ne cherche jamais à venger notre mort.

J’ai à vous parler d’une chose bien pénible à mon coeur. Je sais combien cet enfant doit vous avoir fait de la peine. Pardonnez-lui, ma chère soeur, pensez à l’âge qu’il a et combien il est facile de faire dire à un enfant ce qu’on veut et même ce qu’il ne comprend pas. Un jour viendra, j’espère, où il ne sentira que mieux le prix de vos bontés et de votre tendresse pour tous deux. Il me reste à vous confier encore mes dernières pensées. J’aurais voulu les écrire dès le commencement du procès, mais, outre qu’on ne me laissait pas écrire, la marche a été si rapide que je n’en aurais réellement pas eu le temps.

Je meurs dans la religion catholique, apostolique et romaine, dans celle de mes pères, dans celle où j’ai été élevée et que j’ai toujours professée, n’ayant aucune consolation spirituelle à attendre, ne sachant pas s’il existe encore ici des prêtres de cette religion, et même le lieu où je suis les exposerait trop s’ils y entraient une fois. Je demande sincèrement pardon à Dieu de toutes les fautes que j’ai pu commettre depuis que j’existe ; j’espère que, dans sa bonté, il voudra bien recevoir mes derniers voeux, ainsi que ceux que je fais depuis longtemps pour qu’il veuille bien recevoir mon âme dans sa miséricorde et sa bonté. Je demande pardon à tous ceux que je connais et à vous, ma soeur, en particulier, de toutes les peines que, sans le vouloir, j’aurais pu leur causer. Je pardonne à tous mes ennemis le mal qu’ils m’ont fait. Je dis ici adieu à mes tantes et à tous mes frères et soeurs. J’avais des amis, l’idée d’en être séparée pour jamais et leurs peines sont un des plus grands regrets que j’emporte en mourant ; qu’ils sachent du moins que, jusqu’à mon dernier moment, j’ai pensé à eux.

Adieu, ma bonne et tendre soeur ; puisse cette lettre vous arriver. Pensez toujours à moi ; je vous embrasse de tout mon coeur ainsi que ces pauvres et chers enfants. Mon Dieu, qu’il est déchirant de les quitter pour toujours ! Adieu, adieu ! je ne vais plus m’occuper que de mes devoirs spirituels. Comme je ne suis pas libre dans mes actions, on m’amènera peut-être un prêtre ; mais je proteste ici que je ne lui dirai pas un mot etque je le traiterai comme un être absolument étranger.

_______________________________________________

16th October, 4.30 A.M.

It is to you, my sister, that I write for the last time. I have just been condemned, not to a shameful death, for such is only for criminals, but to go and rejoin your brother. Innocent like him, I hope to show the same firmness in my last moments. I am calm, as one is when one’s conscience reproaches one with nothing. I feel profound sorrow in leaving my poor children: you know that I only lived for them and for you, my good and tender sister. You who out of love have sacrificed everything to be with us, in what a position do I leave you! I have learned from the proceedings at my trial that my daughter was separated from you. Alas! poor child; I do not venture to write to her; she would not receive my letter. I do not even know whether this will reach you. Do you receive my blessing for both of them. I hope that one day when they are older they may be able to rejoin you, and to enjoy to the full your tender care. Let them both think of the lesson which I have never ceased to impress upon them, that the principles and the exact performance of their duties are the chief foundation of life; and then mutual affection and confidence in one another will constitute its happiness. Let my daughter feel that at her age she ought always to aid her brother by the advice which her greater experience and her affection may inspire her to give him. And let my son in his turn render to his sister all the care and all the services which affection can inspire. Let them, in short, both feel that, in whatever positions they may be placed, they will never be truly happy but through their union. Let them follow our example. In our own misfortunes how much comfort has our affection for one another afforded us! And, in times of happiness, we have enjoyed that doubly from being able to share it with a friend; and where can one find friends more tender and more united than in one’s own family? Let my son never forget the last words of his father, which I repeat emphatically; let him never seek to avenge our deaths.

I have to speak to you of one thing which is very painful to my heart, I know how much pain the child must have caused you. Forgive him, my dear sister; think of his age, and how easy it is to make a child say whatever one wishes, especially when he does not understand it. It will come to pass one day, I hope, that he will better feel the value of your kindness and of your tender affection for both of them. It remains to confide to you my last thoughts. I should have wished to write them at the beginning of my trial; but, besides that they did not leave me any means of writing, events have passed so rapidly that I really have not had time.

I die in the Catholic Apostolic and Roman religion, that of my fathers, that in which I was brought up, and which I have always professed. Having no spiritual consolation to look for, not even knowing whether there are still in this place any priests of that religion (and indeed the place where I am would expose them to too much danger if they were to enter it but once), I sincerely implore pardon of God for all the faults which I may have committed during my life. I trust that, in His goodness, He will mercifully accept my last prayers, as well as those which I have for a long time addressed to Him, to receive my soul into His mercy. I beg pardon of all whom I know, and especially of you, my sister, for all the vexations which, without intending it, I may have caused you. I pardon all my enemies the evils that they have done me. I bid farewell to my aunts and to all my brothers and sisters. I had friends. The idea of being forever separated from them and from all their troubles is one of the greatest sorrows that I suffer in dying. Let them at least know that to my latest moment I thought of them.

Farewell, my good and tender sister. May this letter reach you. Think always of me; I embrace you with all my heart, as I do my poor dear children. My God, how heart-rending it is to leave them forever! Farewell! farewell! I must now occupy myself with my spiritual duties, as I am not free in my actions. Perhaps they will bring me a priest; but I here protest that I will not say a word to him, but that I will treat him as a total stranger.

Princess Diana

Princess Diana with Prince William and Prince Harry

1 July 1961 - 31 August 1997