On 16 November 1671, Liselotte von der Pfalz, the nineteen-year-old daughter of the Elector of Palatine, was married to Philippe d'Orléans, "Monsieur," the only brother of Louis XIV. The marriage was not to be a happy one. Liselotte (known in France as Elisabeth Charlotte, Duchesse d'Orléans, or "Madame") was full of intellectual energy and moral rigor. Homesick for her native Germany, she felt temperamentally ill-suited to life at the French court. The homosexual Monsieur, deeply immersed in the pleasures and intrigues of the court, shared few of his wife's interests. Yet, for the next fifty years, Liselotte remained in France, never far from the center of one of the most glorious courts of Europe. And throughout this period, she wrote letters -- sometimes as many as forty week -- to her friends and relatives in Germany. It is from this extraordinary body of correspondence that A Woman's Life in the Court of the Sun King has been fashioned. As introduced and translated by Elborg Forster, the letters have become the remarkable personal narrative of Liselotte's transformation from an innocent, yet outspoken, girl into a formidable observer of great events and human folly.
Elisabeth Charlotte of the Palatinate, Duchess of Orléans, also known as Liselotte von der Pfalz, was a German princess and the second wife of Philippe de France, younger brother of Louis XIV of France. Her vast correspondence provides a detailed account of the personalities and activities at the court of her brother-in-law, Louis XIV.
Princess Elisabeth Charlotte was the mother of Philippe II, Duke of Orléans, France's ruler during the Regency. Her sometimes very blunt descriptions of French court life is today one of the best-known German-language texts of the Baroque period.
Although she had only two surviving children, she not only became the ancestress of the House of Orléans, which came to the French throne with Louis Philippe I, the so-called "Citizen King" from 1830 to 1848, but also became the ancestress of numerous European royal families, so she was also called the "Grandmother of Europe". Through her daughter she was the grandmother of Francis I, Holy Roman Emperor, the husband of Maria Theresa, and great-grandmother of Joseph II and Leopold II (both Holy Roman Emperors) and Marie Antoinette, the last Queen of France before the French Revolution.
Elisabeth Charlotte was the daughter of the ruler (Count and Elector) of the Palatinate, a historically important German state spanning the Rhine with its capital at Heidelberg and a vote in the election of Holy Roman Emperors. The Palatinate was just recovering from the Thirty Years War, and her father needed a lasting alliance with France.
So Liselotte suffered the fate of many a princess: a loveless teenage marriage (at 19, to the openly gay brother of Louis XIV), an impossible mission (to steer French foreign policy by charm alone), being treated a foreigner and a potential spy, culture shock, having her favourite maids sent away and her pension cut. She consoled herself with hunting and writing letters: forty long letters a week for fifty years to royal relatives in Hanover, the Palatinate, Britain, the whole of Western Europe in fact. It's not surprising that many of them survive.
It's mostly gossip and lamenting her unhappy life, but it provides a wonderful window into the French court at Versailles, Marly and other palaces. With inside knowledge but an outsider's eye, she tells us things we might not find out any other way. Unfortunately, this does not mean she is an unbiased observer. She has many an axe to grind: against priests, doctors, adulterers, crawlers, social climbers and above all Louis' mistress and wife Madame de Maintenon. Liselotte has a rather hypocritical attitude to class: virtue exists even the most humble, yet vice is much more despicable in the lowly born than in her own stratum.
Liselotte often insists that she is ugly, calling herself Bear-Cat-Monkey Face. Her portraits show her as a handsome woman but not ravishing; of course, court painters were paid to please their patrons. I don't suppose we can ever know what she really looked like.
Naturally, she was not able to influence French foreign policy. Louis invaded the Palatinate at the very start of the War of the League of Augsburg: it covered the northern flank of lands he intended to annex (Lorraine), and when it became clear that he couldn't hold it, he had it systematically burned. She was miserable and alone when the French court around her celebrated the destruction of her homeland and levied taxes in her name. But she embraced the French side in the War of Spanish Succession.
Eventually the wheel turned her way, with her son becoming Regent after the death of Louis XIV. She doesn't seem to have enjoyed that much, though.
The single problem I have with this collection of the delightful Liselotte's letters is that it is too short. I wish they were all here. Pungent, funny, poignant, insightful, blind (often willfully, but she knew it), and utterly human, she takes a German's eye to the French court, and sees past the glam to the real people. And so funny at times I cracked up.
I've seen Liselotte's letters referred to in various books about the life at Versailles, and I've always wanted to get the German editions, but they are ruinously expensive, alas. This selection whets the appetite for the whole series. Liselotte, especially when read in congruence with Saint-Simon, gives a vivid portrait of the court. But she'ss interesting on her own account.
Here's one quote, from 20 May, 1700:
Not much is new here. The King has had the Duc d'Estrees put into the Bastille by lettre de cachet. Some weeks ago d'Estrees wrote a long letter promising to give up his debaucheries and lead a decent life; nonetheless he again went on a wild drinking spree with his own lackeys and they ended up by setting fire to several houses in Paris. Drinking themselves into a stupor and committing insolences of all kinds is considered nice by the young people of quality these days, but they do not know how to exchange two words with reasonable people. Nothing could be more brutal than the youth of today.
Not that she was a stuffy fuddy-duddy. Far from it. She liked gross jokes as well as anyone, and her views of people were reported with unvarnished truth, including her description of herself: Not one of my portraits resembles me very much; my fat is in all the wrong places, which is bound to be unbecoming; I have a horrendous—begging your leave—behind, big belly and hips, and very broad shoulders; my neck and breasts are quite flat, so that, if truth be known, I am hideously ugly, but fortunately for me I do not care one whit.
Liselotte is easily my favorite person in all of history. Despite her myriad troubles and challenges--a country she did not know, a husband who did not love her, religious and political practices she did not understand--she writes with humor, character, honesty, and insight to the people she loves. As both an outsider and insider at Louis XIV's court, her observations paint an invaluable and highly entertaining picture of the quirks, scandals, pranks, tragedies, lives, and deaths of the French nobility.
"The court loses a good princess, and that is a rare thing." - Matthieu Marais
This book is a collection of letters written by Madame, the second wife of Louis XIV’s brother, Monsieur. Elisabeth Charlotte, nicknamed Liselotte, was a German princess from the Palatinate, a seemingly unlikely choice to marry into the French royal family. During her fifty years at court, she wrote dozens of letters a week to family back in Germany and Hanover. The letters cover everything from her husband’s poor treatment of her to the rise of Madame de Maintenon to the French army’s destruction of her homeland at her brother-in-law’s orders. Long story short, they’re a fascinating look at the inner workings of Louis XIV’s court. But don’t expect a happy ending for this princess…as she put it, “Being Madame is a miserable job, and if I could sell it as they sell offices in this country, I would have put it up for sale long ago…” (123)
If you’re nosy, like me, and love reading historical letters and diaries, this book is right up your alley. Fair warning, though – parts of this will make you angry and sad. Liselotte didn’t have a swell time at the French court.
Why was that the case? Well, it started with her husband. Monsieur was homosexual, and spent his time and money on a series of boyfriends. He didn’t seem to care about her at all, except maybe as the mother of his children…but he didn’t seem to care too much about them, either, at least in these letters.
Because she was honest and forthright, Louis XIV liked her. That was well and good, until his pious mistress (and probable secret wife), Madame de Maintenon, decided Liselotte was a threat to her control of the king. She manipulated Monsieur and the king, putting Liselotte at a disadvantage – shutting her out, lessening her influence. There was no one left to come to Liselotte’s aid. She remained at court but was often alone and broke. Through it all, she had a fantastic attitude, but it couldn’t have been a fulfilling life.
From what we can see in these letters, Philippe d’Orléans (her husband) treated her like dirt. After watching the TV series Versailles and falling for their version of Philippe, I kept looking for some redeeming value in the real-life Philippe we see in Liselotte’s letters. Nope. I found nothing…although Liselotte did. She took his tiniest action and magnified it into a reason he either trusted her or loved her deep down. I disagree. As he’s portrayed here, he was a dick.
Here’s a quote that sums up her attitude towards court life: “I have become accustomed to so many dreadful things since my arrival in this country that if I could ever return to a place where falseness does not rule everything and where lies are neither the daily fare nor approved of, I should think that I had come to a paradise.” (34)
What Was Super Interesting
*Liselotte’s hatred for Madame de Maintenon. These two hated each other. Like, hated with the fire of a thousand suns. Maintenon feared Liselotte’s influence with the king, so she sided with Monsieur on everything, to Liselotte’s detriment. Later, Maintenon and Liselotte had a brief reconciliation (humiliating for Liselotte), which didn’t last. Not long afterward, Liselotte returned to calling her “the old trollop” and complaining about how she ruined France.
*Her finances. She’s always broke, but when she explains why, it makes sense. Yes, she receives money from the crown. But her position also requires her to have a staff so large it costs more than what she receives. And she has no other source of income, so she has to borrow just to break even. She laments the fact that she can’t support her half-brothers and half-sisters because she literally doesn’t have two coins to rub together.
*Her enduring love for her homeland. Liselotte wrote in German to her family, and pursued every opportunity to speak German with visitors to court. For decades, she reminisced about the places she grew up, her memories of childhood, the food, the hymns, everything. She was a German through and through, and it’s painful to know that Louis XIV’s strict court rules made it impossible for her to return for a visit.
*Her descriptions of her son, the Regent. When Louis XIV died in 1715 (spoiler alert), his successor was his five-year-old great-grandson, Louis XV. Madame’s only son, the duc d’Orléans, became his Regent. She describes how hard he worked at his job, and why he had an uphill battle. When he took over, France was a shit show – no money, no international goodwill, and a court run by cabals. Or, as Liselotte would say, run by priests and old women. She describes him working at all hours of the day, with barely any time for breaks or meals. I didn’t know anything about the regent prior to this, and although Madame is probably a little biased towards her own son, it really does seem like he had the country’s best interest at heart.
Should You Read This Book?
Absolutely. It’s fun to read, heartbreaking at times, and hilarious at other times, but always fascinating.
Liselotte comes across as someone you’d like to know today. I’d like to sit down and talk about books and history with her. She doesn’t like tea or coffee, so you can’t invite her to Starbucks. But promise her a good cabbage and bacon salad, and I’m sure she’d accept your invitation.
Fair warning: you’ll also get a few fart and poop jokes and anecdotes in these letters. That’s just part of Madame’s informal charm. ------ Review originally published as part my 2020 Royal Reading List at https://girlinthetiara.com/2020-royal....
Lisolette’s story draws you in as a novel with fascinating, often hilarious anecdotes (you don’t often expect to laugh out loud reading 18th century letters) but also great commentary on current events. You are invested in her next letter as much as her correspondents must have been. Her integrity, courage, and spirit are inspiring, and I feel like I am constantly rereading things because I’m so in awe of her spunky attitude. She directly addresses those who censor and read her letters before mailing them, often threatening them or including sensitive material with a direct address to “those who rudely read my conversations”. She is never afraid to be improper by speaking her mind, but she is the classiest lady of the French court. Despite enormous pettiness and jealousy, multiple people working against her for the King’s favor, including her husband and son, she keeps positive and perseveres, making peace and taking the high road at every opportunity to avoid further drama and discomfort. I was especially surprised to learn that she had such a difficulty with money. Her husband left her nothing and melted down and sold all of her silver before he died, and he gave it all to his boyfriends whom she had nothing against, except their apathy for her husband. Despite all this, in addition to his constant defamation of her to the King, she loved him and missed him much on his death. I particularly enjoyed reading her thoughts and interpretations of death and the afterlife. Her commentary on religion, though censored, was evocative, opinionated, and fiery. She lived her life to please others, but was not afraid to complain of that burden or “the many unhappinesses... that come with marriage...” and she was honest about the situation of her times, saying confidently “Most women [are] unhappy.” Her strength and confidence is nothing short of inspirational.
As they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Letters of Liselotte von der Pfalz, Elisabeth Charlotte, Duchesse d'Orleans, 1652-1722. We learn of her life growing in Germany (which she misses all of her life,) her life in the French court (her husband was "Monsieur", brother to King Louis XIV and a homosexual, and her truest love, amidst the intrigues and over the topness of it all in Versailles. At the end of her life, so many she has loved gone, surrounded by the devilry and maliciousness of social scrambling through decades of court life, all this woman wanted was for her children to survive, to have happy lives, healthy lives and not to sink into the corruption or poison she has been surrounded by from the time she went as a young girl to France. She wrote daily. And our generation doesn't even send emails anymore. It's all private messaging in Facebook. Who saves "that" for the ages?
15 May 1687 Surely one does not write to one's good friends and relations in order to make a pretty and clever-to-do? It seems to me that we do it to show them that this is a way to manifest our trust by putting down on paper what the lips cannot say. So, when one is merry, the letters wioll be merry, and when one is sad, likewise; and in this way our friends can feel with us everything that concerns us."
The introduction by Elborg is a bit dry, decidedly harsh, and quite homophobic in some sections. He describes Louis II de Bourbon, Prince de Condé's wife (whose name is Claire-Clémence de Maillé-Brézé, which Elborg doesn't bother to include) as a "dwarf and a hunchback, whose grotesque appearance was passed on to several generations of Condé's," which is just cruel and frankly did not need to be mentioned! He also describes Philippe I d'Orléans being encouraged (by whom?) to spend time with "known homosexuals at court, who delighted in dressing him up in sumptuous female clothing and jewelry, complete with beauty spots and makeup." Oh no, a young man having fun and dressing up in drag. How unseemly, especially considering elite boys were dressed in little girl's clothing well into their childhood. Elborg also skips over how Elisabeth Charlotte is technically one of Marie Antoinette's great-grandmothers (Marie Antoinette's father, Emperor Francis I was Elisabeth Charlotte's grandson through her daughter's line), which I managed to figure out through the family tree. It adds another layer of tragedy to the book - knowing the court Elisabeth Charlotte and her children grew up in would end so violently for their family in a couple of generations.
The content itself is quite varied. There are letters about the (stupid) rules of etiquette (who can sit on what kind of chair and who has to stand), the seemingly never-ending wars, her worries about her children, especially her son, being corrupted by the court (she wrote several times that she would prefer her son to go to war then be at court, which is wild. She did have the philosophy "that it is a mark of love to be strict with children. When we reach the age of reason, we realize why it was done and are most thankful to those who have done the best for us out of this kind of affection. For by nature children are inclined toward evil, and that is why they must be reined in." But still, to wish your one son was at war!? What did she think it all entailed?). The world conjured up by the writer is quite insular - she doesn't write much about things going outside France and Germany (I would love to get her take on say, the Salem Witch Trials as they occurred), though she did keep abreast of what was going on in the Russian court (like when Peter the Great condemned his son to death for trying to kill him). There are some funny bits (like her husband and her son ripping farts during a family dinner, or her describing napping during Church services but having to stay awake when she gets to sit next to the King) sprinkled throughout - she could be quite crass at times, but with her intimate friends. And aren't we all crass and gross with our best friends from time to time?
There is a lot of tragedy as well - her first son dies quite young (did not make it to three years of age), she sounded quite heartbroken about her estranged husband's death (who would only take "medicine" when the doctors said it was on the order of his wife), and the deaths of the King's children and her own grandchildren. Her own homeland being attacked and devastated clearly tore her apart.
She could be quite harsh about the King's mistresses (apparently, if this can be believed, de Maintenon pulled out a letter Elisabeth Charlotte wrote slagging her - de Maintenon - off to show how much power and pull she had), her children (her daughter "does not have a pretty face, but a good figure, nice skin, and a kind heart"), and herself as well - acknowledging how fat and ugly she had gotten in her old age.
She could be willingly and deliberately blind and stubborn on things (like rank! Her son preferring "the company of lowly people, of painters and musicians, to that of people of rank" is an odd thing to complain about; there is a sickening passage about how different types of nobles prefer their sexual partners of certain ages, and she seemed more upset about people who masturbate on their own than about men systematically and openly going after children), but was surprisingly progressive on say, matters of religion: When [the King's emissaries] pressed the [King of Siam] to become a Christian and a Catholic, he said: "I believe that your King's religion is good, but if God wanted to be served by only one religion he would have put only one into the world, but since there are so many, it is a sign that he wanted to be served in as many ways. And to prove God loves variety, one only has to look at the many different things in nature." To this they did not exactly know how to respond. One thing I kept wondering about is that Our Lord Jesus Christ, when speaking of the Last Judgement, only says, "I was naked and you have not clothed me, I was thirsty and you have not given me drink, I was hungry and you have not fed me," but he does not ever say, "You have not believed in me in the right way." So it appears that to do good is the foremost prescription for salvation; the rest is priests' squabbles."
This is delightful tome that paints a biased but nonetheless intriguing picture of the French Court from the reign of the Sun King to that of her own son. It ought to be read in conjunction with Selected Letters, though the latter is known for being far more humorous and bubbly in tone.
What a wonderful look at royal life in the ancien regime. In spite of the considerable frustrations of her life, the Duchesse managed to preserve a strong sense of humor. She was an acute observer of the people around her. In spite of the fact that she knew her letters were often opened and read before they reached their recipient, she writes what she thinks--or if she censors herself, she does it in a way that shows exactly why and what she thinks of the spies.
Fascinating!!! I had become addicted to the TV series "Versailles," wanted to learn more about the actual factual history of the Court and ran across a recommendation for this book on this great website, which I recommend to all "Versailles" fans: http://julesharper.com/versailles-rev...
What an amazing woman! She is so modern in her attitudes and writing that she seems like she could be your best gal pal. I wish I could time travel to visit her in the Court, listen to her witty accounts of her problems with the Duc d'Orleans, the King, Mme. de Maintenon, et al., eat sausages and drink beer with her, and help her mount gossip campaigns to counter those of her enemies (although it seems she was too sensible for that nonsense). Her memoir beats by a wide margin any modern historical account as far as putting you right there in Versailles and letting you see, hear, and taste it for yourself.
This was incredibly fun to read and if you're at all into 17th-18th century French history, I highly recommend you read this. It feels a bit like eavesdropping on really entertaining conversations, and it's nicely footnoted, which makes it quite accessible if you don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of European nobility in the 17th and early 18th centuries.
It was an interesting window into the court of the Sun King and humanized a lot of famous monarchs and nobility of the time period, including the Sun King himself. However, since it is a diary of sorts a lot of pages are devoted to complaining about her husband and various people at court. Things you would expect to hear more about e.g. the affaire des poisons, aren't even mentioned.
3.5 maybe? Some of the letters were fantastically funny and/or insightful. Other themes that didn't interest me as much, became a little monotonous or repetitive.
Re-read in 2024: Having now read quite a few collections of Liselotte's letters, I really appreciate this one for including some that aren't as commonly published. There are some omissions, but the translations in this book are fresh and candid in a way that a lot of older translations of Liselotte's letters are not.
Liselotte is one of my favorite historical figures. Reading this was so much fun. I wish there was more written about her, both nonfiction and fiction. She was such an intriguing woman. Maybe with the popularity of the Versailles TV show recently, we'll get some more books about her soon?
This was very enjoyable to read. The woman's personality is great. She has love for the French royal family and misses Germany. She is astute, funny, and self-deprecating. I also enjoyed her sense of humor.