King Charles I

From Cromwell. The king here shows the same courage that his French counterpart and descendant would a century and a half later.

Sic Semper Tyrannis

Cromwell's body, hidden in the wall of the middle aisle of Henry VII Lady Chapel, took effort to exhume because the wood and cloth were difficult to shift. On 28 January 1661, the bodies of Cromwell and Ireton were taken to the Red Lion Inn in Holborn, joined the following day by the body of John Bradshaw, before being taken to Tyburn for execution. On the morning of 30 January 1661, the anniversary of the execution of King Charles I, the shrouded bodies in open coffins were dragged on a sledge through the streets of London to the gallows, where each body was hanged in full public view until around four o'clock that afternoon. After being taken down, Cromwell's head was severed with eight blows, placed on a wooden spike on a 20-foot (6.1 m) pole, and raised above Westminster Hall.

Wikipedia relates more regarding the unusual history of Oliver Cromwell's head.

In the town of Hadley, Mass., are believed to be buried two of Cromwell's associates in the murder of King Charles I. This is not far from me, and often I've spoken with friends there about attempting to find the graves of William Goffe and Edward Whalley, who also signed the king's death warrant and took refuge in Hadley, that the public justice due a regicide may be meted, just as it was in Cromwell's case. That plan, however, never really got beyond a pub conversation.

Whalley and Goffe sailed from England as soon as possible. They arrived in Boston in July, 1660, and they lived there openly under assumed names. In August of that same year, Charles II issued a royal writ for their arrest and execution, the man-of-war bearing these warrants set sail for Boston. Friends of the two regicides found out and secretly chartered a fast sloop by which to send a warning. The sloop over took the King's man-of-war just off Cape Ann, pressed on to Boston Harbor where it arrived too late to reach the city that night. The ship's captain, taking his mission very seriously, manned his small boat with his strongest men and rowed to shore. Governor Endicott was having a party for the two regicides that very evening at the State House. The captain, still dressed in his seaman's clothes, refused to be turned away from the door, arguing his case at length. Governor Endicott overheard the discussion and listened to the captain's message. Realizing that Goffe and Whalley were facing apprehension, the governor ended the reception and sent the two men out of Boston that very night.

From 1661-1664, the two fugitives were housed in and around New Haven and Milford, Connecticut. When the King's men started looking for them in Connecticut, Whalley and Goffe decided to hide out at the back of beyond, in the small settlement of Hadley. Reverend John Russell hid them in his house in the center of the village until Whalley's death in ca. 1674 and Goffe's death some time around 1680. Although a few trusted people knew the two men were secretly hidden in Hadley, everyone involved kept the secret because if the truth were revealed, John Russell as well as the two fugitives would face death.

More about these regicides and the legend of the "Angel of Hadley" bound up with them can be found here.

God save the King.

Sarko calls Alsace "Germany"

Photo courtesy of European People's Party

I generally make no secret about my distaste for the President of the French Republic, M. Sarkozy, a distaste I hold for a great many reasons. However, this gaffe takes the cake:

French President Nicolas Sarkozy has caused outrage by suggesting that the Alsace region which his country won back from the Nazis after World War II was still ‘in Germany’.

The French President made the hugely embarrassing mistake during a speech in the Alsatian town of Truchtersheim, which is less than 20 miles from the German border...

‘I’m not saying that simply because I’m in Germany,’ he continued, before correcting himself to say: ‘I’m in Alsace.’

The crowd immediately began jeering and then booing Mr Sarkozy, who appeared shocked by what he had said – putting his hands up in the air as if surrender.

Alsace, historically one of the most strategically crucial regions in France, was contested constantly between France and Germany during the 19th and 20th Century.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1348555/Sarkozy-angers-French-saying-Alsace-region-German-simple-error.html#ixzz1CD7gubp4

I don't necessarily wish here to go into a rant regarding "foreigners" or such, for indeed I greatly enjoy the rich and diverse cultures of other lands. But I do have a great animus for "rootless cosmopolitans," those who will carpetbag about seeking a comfortable enough place to hang their hats, then, without any regard for the shared common loves of the people of that place, seek to make it into their own little socially-engineered utopia. Nicolas Sarkozy is not very French, and this gaffe shows how un-French he is, not even knowing enough about the country he purportedly governs to know that Alsace is French, not German. What an insult to those men who honourably served that Alsace may remain a part of the great French realm! My family has not lived in the Hexagon for generations, yet even I am heartily affronted by this.

As though we needed yet another case proving that mass elections are an excuse for large-scale fraud and pandering. Those elected often set themselves against the nation they purport to serve, make no attempt to share in the nation's customs and traditions, often leading many to believe that they actively stand against their supposed fellow-citizens. Sarkozy is terrible in this regard; Obama is worse. Great nations deserve great leaders, and, honestly, Western world, we can do better. Monarchs still reign, but with little power; many other royal families have lost their thrones but remain waiting in the wings should they ever be called upon again. Frankly, what have we to lose in calling upon them? Indeed, the situation as it stands cannot get much worse. Even a bad monarch was much more a Frenchman, or an Englishman, or what have you, than the internationalist carpetbaggers ruling today. For the sake of our continuing identity and survival, give them a chance.

This one's dedicated to you, Monsieur le Président:

Pope Benedict on Jeanne d'Arc

From today's general audience in Rome:

Our catechesis today deals with Saint Joan of Arc, one of the outstanding women of the later Middle Ages. Raised in a religious family, Joan enjoyed mystical experiences from an early age. At a time of crisis in the Church and of war in her native France, she felt God’s call to a life of prayer and virginity, and to personal engagement in the liberation of her compatriots. At the age of seventeen, Joan began her mission among the French military forces; she sought to negotiate a just Christian peace between the English and French, took an active part in the siege of Orleans and witnessed the coronation of Charles VII at Rheims. Captured by her enemies the next year, she was tried by an ecclesiastical court and burnt at the stake as a heretic; she died invoking the name of Jesus. Her unjust condemnation was overturned twenty-five years later. At the heart of Saint Joan’s spirituality was an unfailing love for Christ and, in Christ, for the Church and for her neighbour. May the prayers and example of Saint Joan of Arc inspire many lay men and women to devote themselves to public life in the service of God’s Kingdom, and encourage all of us to live to the fullest our lofty calling in Christ.

Au Ciel / J'Irai La Voir un Jour

I recall older relations of my grandmother's and great-grandmother's generation singing this while about their daily work.

Thanks to The New Beginning for helping me rediscover this.

Marquis de Montcalm

The Mad Monarchist speaks about the great hero of New France:

Upon his arrival, Montcalm was less than impressed with the situation in New France. There was not much that was up to his high standards and although he was polite and diplomatic with his Indian allies he also abhorred their methods of making war. He squabbled with the local governor and received precious little support from the homeland. Yet, the Marquis brought a new sense of professionalism to the French war effort in America and against all odds he won a string of stunning victories over the British. Despite being heavily outnumbered the Marquis de Montcalm took the offensive and began methodically reducing the British presence in upper New York. In 1756 he won a great victory that secured French control of Ontario with the capture of Fort Oswego. The devout Marquis credited God with the victory and erected a memorial cross in thanks. The following year his skillful siege tactics resulted in the capture of Fort William Henry, a name perhaps most famous for the Indian massacre of British soldiers and civilians who had evacuated the fort. Much blame has been heaped on Montcalm for this but, in fact, he never ordered such an atrocity, was horrified when he learned of it and acted quickly to stop the killings even to the extent of offering his own life in exchange for the parolees.

It was, however, the battle of Fort Carillon in 1758 that was to be the masterpiece of Montcalm’s military career. With only 3,800 men he successfully repelled a British army of over 16,000. The British lost 2,000 men killed or wounded while the Marquis lost only 352. Again, Montcalm attributed the victory to God and erected another memorial cross in thanks for their deliverance. It was the height of French war effort in North America and the height of the career of the Marquis. Despite being at every disadvantage, the French had not only defeated the British campaigns against them but struck back to the point that the very presence of the British in America was imperiled. However, stirred to action, things soon changed as the British sent over massive reinforcements from the home islands with the intention of wiping out the French presence in Canada once and for all.

Read more here.

Murder of King Louis XVI

On January 21, 1793, the French Republic committed one of the most unspeakable crimes, the murder by guillotine of Good King Louis XVI. I reproduce here the report of L'Abbé Edgeworth de Firmont, the King's confessor who accompanied him to the scaffold.

The King, finding himself seated in the carriage, where he could neither speak to me nor be spoken to without witness, kept a profound silence. I presented him with my breviary, the only book I had with me, and he seemed to accept it with pleasure: he appeared anxious that I should point out to him the psalms that were most suited to his situation, and he recited them attentively with me. The gendarmes, without speaking, seemed astonished and confounded at the tranquil piety of their monarch, to whom they doubtless never had before approached so near.

The procession lasted almost two hours; the streets were lined with citizens, all armed, some with pikes and some with guns, and the carriage was surrounded by a body of troops, formed of the most desperate people of Paris. As another precaution, they had placed before the horses a number of drums, intended to drown any noise or murmur in favour of the King; but how could they be heard? Nobody appeared either at the doors or windows, and in the street nothing was to be seen, but armed citizens - citizens, all rushing towards the commission of a crime, which perhaps they detested in their hearts.

The carriage proceeded thus in silence to the Place de Louis XV, and stopped in the middle of a large space that had been left round the scaffold: this space was surrounded with cannon, and beyond, an armed multitude extended as far as the eye could reach. As soon as the King perceived that the carriage stopped, he turned and whispered to me, 'We are arrived, if I mistake not.' My silence answered that we were. One of the guards came to open the carriage door, and the gendarmes would have jumped out, but the King stopped them, and leaning his arm on my knee, 'Gentlemen,' said he, with the tone of majesty, 'I recommend to you this good man; take care that after my death no insult be offered to him - I charge you to prevent it.'… As soon as the King had left the carriage, three guards surrounded him, and would have taken off his clothes, but he repulsed them with haughtiness- he undressed himself, untied his neckcloth, opened his shirt, and arranged it himself. The guards, whom the determined countenance ofthe King had for a moment disconcerted, seemed to recover their audacity. They surrounded him again, and would have seized his hands. 'What are you attempting?' said the King, drawing back his hands. 'To bind you,' answered the wretches. 'To bind me,' said the King, with an indignant air. 'No! I shall never consent to that: do what you have been ordered, but you shall never bind me. . .'

The path leading to the scaffold was extremely rough and difficult to pass; the King was obliged to lean on my arm, and from the slowness with which he proceeded, I feared for a moment that his courage might fail; but what was my astonishment, when arrived at the last step, I felt that he suddenly let go my arm, and I saw him cross with a firm foot the breadth of the whole scaffold; silence, by his look alone, fifteen or twenty drums that were placed opposite to me; and in a voice so loud, that it must have been heard it the Pont Tournant, I heard him pronounce distinctly these memorable words: 'I die innocent of all the crimes laid to my charge; I Pardon those who have occasioned my death; and I pray to God that the blood you are going to shed may never be visited on France.'

He was proceeding, when a man on horseback, in the national uniform, and with a ferocious cry, ordered the drums to beat. Many voices were at the same time heard encouraging the executioners. They seemed reanimated themselves, in seizing with violence the most virtuous of Kings, they dragged him under the axe of the guillotine, which with one stroke severed his head from his body. All this passed in a moment. The youngest of the guards, who seemed about eighteen, immediately seized the head, and showed it to the people as he walked round the scaffold; he accompanied this monstrous ceremony with the most atrocious and indecent gestures. At first an awful silence prevailed; at length some cries of 'Vive la Republique!' were heard. By degrees the voices multiplied and in less than ten minutes this cry, a thousand times repeated became the universal shout of the multitude, and every hat was in the air.

Photograph courtesy of Eric Pouhier

Vive le Roi-Martyr.