A man's best friend...

Charles IX's Gloves: Son of Henri II and Catherine de Medici, Charles IX succeeded his brother Francois II (who only got to reign for a few months) to the throne. A very controversial king indeed, he was tied to his mother's apron strings and enormously influenced by her. His changeable moods and fragile psychology lead to the Saint-Barthélemy massacre which claimed around 15,000 lives on the Huguenot side. When his mother asked him, "Are you afraid?" he replied, "Kill them all so that noone's left to reproach me." What a responsable chap.

Charles IX had no idea of royal function, but loved animals, particularly dogs of all sizes. His favourite was called Courte and no description allows us to distinguish what kind of breed she was. Furthermore, dog references have evolved and it's difficult to make any parallels with the criterias of the XVI century. All we know is that she had very short legs, from whence came her name. Charles was nuts about her. Courte shared his life completely from baths to breakfasts. She even had a pair of pyjamas for bedtime.

The day she died, desolation installed itself in the King's court. His Majesty ordered that her skin be brought to him so that he could have gloves made and wore them every day for the duration of his 'deuil'.

Blessed are the furry: Aaaaaand, did you know that each year, on the first Sundays of May and November, there's a curious service celebrated in the church of St. Rita, 27, rue François-Bonvin, 15è. On the day of the solemn service of St. Francis of Assisi, the priest invites his congregation  as well as their tortoises, fish, rabbits, dogs, cats etc to a mass followed by the blessing of animals. More than 600 'vertébrés' (or not) get together for this occasion. This Noah's Arc remembers the Creatures Canticles of St. Francis in which he thanks God for His creation. These unusual parisioners participate in a very well behaved manner. This service, the only one of its kind in the world, apparently, was first done in 1994. Must take my four cats in May. They have very good voices and Dudley could perhaps suggest the formation of a church cats' choir...

Coco: Queen Marie-Antoinette loved to surround herself with dogs, amongst whom was a little spaniel called Coco, noted by Stefan Zweig in his superb biography of the afore-mentioned monarch. Around the time of her arrest she gave the dog to her childrens' governess, Mme de Tourzel, daughter of the Princess of Lamballe for safe-keeping. It's unclear whether it was at the moment when the royal family tried to escape to Varenne or when she was imprisoned at the Tuileries, mais enfin, bref, it gives a bit of a mystery to the life of Coco at this period of time. Legend rather romances Coco's final breath...it appears that after seeing her mistress beheaded at the public execution, Place de la Concorde, on 17th October, 1793, the little dog died of chagrin. It wouldn't be the first time. Mary Stewart's little dog did exactly the same thing. It lifted its head, howled and that, as they say, was the end of that....

You can quite imagine the chatter of those working in the Hotel Seignelay, 80, rue de Lille, 7è, the home of Mme de Tourzel, for in the garden of this beautiful XVIII house, Coco was layed to rest in the middle of a superb lawn in the shade of a 'palmier'. There is a plaque there, grey and discrete (it's a copy for the original is in the Ministry's safe) where one can read the inscription "Ici, à l'ombre d'un palmier a été enterré Coco, chien de sa Majesté la Reine Marie-Antoinette qui l'avait confié lors de son arrestation à Madame de Tourzel gouvernante des enfants de France."

Other tombs of other animals can be found in the gardens of the Hotel Matignon, rue de Varenne, 7è, amongst them the dog of a very rich Englishman and the cat belonging to a diplomat's wife. The two are, so it is said, buried back to back. Aaaaah!

And that's all for this evening!