Gallican Church Research Articles

Hobbes in France, Gallican Histories, and Leviathan's Supreme Pastor

Few of the recent treatments exploring Leviathan's dramatic expansion of ecclesiological considerations have delved into the political circumstances that furnished Hobbes's immediate Parisian surroundings, as he penned the work during the 1640s. This paper examines French ecclesial debates that were triggered by the publication of a polemical collection of texts narrating the “rights and liberties of the Gallican church.” Many of the tracts included had been written during the accession crisis of the late sixteenth century, and advocated a sacralized view of kingship in order to exclude papal jurisdictional claims in France. This paper argues that innovations in Leviathan's sacred history mirror tropes employed by Gallican writers, so that Hobbes can be seen as adopting a parallel strategy in establishing Leviathan's Supreme Pastor. This explication suggests that Hobbes composed Leviathan to appropriate, rather than eliminate, claims associated with “spiritual” power for the civil sovereign, as critical to the exercise of sovereignty.

Projects of the Gallican Church and the ‘Everyday Piety’ Reform on the Eve of the Wars of Religion

During the so-called ‘Gallican crisis’ between 1551 and 1552, Pope Julius III accused the French king of preparing an ecclesiastical schism, while the possibility of establishing a French patriarchate was discussed in the royal council. Before long, however, the conflict gave way to a close alliance between the Pope and King Henry II. Was the ‘Gallican crisis’ just a tool of political pressure on Julius III? To what extent were the plans of the king and his entourage to reform the Gallican Church serious? The lack of sources can be filled, at least in part, by turning to the work by Raoul Spifame, a lawyer of the Paris Parliament, titled Dicaearchiae Henrici Regis Christianissimi Progymnasmata (1556). In its essence, it is a collection of rhetorical exercises in the field of jurisprudence written in the form of royal decrees designed to reform everything in the kingdom. Surprisingly, some of these fictional measures later would be actually implemented. The reason for the author’s ‘clairvoyance’ lies in his contacts with the secretaries of state who were then preparing large-scale reforms, which would eventually be cancelled due to the unexpected death of the king and the outbreak of the Wars of Religion. A considerable part of the decrees is devoted to plans of the reform of the Gallican Church: from the elevation of the Bishopric of Paris to the rank of an archdiocese to tightening control over the morals of prelates. This article pays special attention to how the Dicaearchiae regulated the elements of ‘everyday piety’ — the rituals of blessing of the bridal chamber, purification after childbirth, and belief in the existence of limb. A limitation of ‘luxury’ was also to be introduced: refusal of precious ecclesiastical ornaments, redundant bells, and a reduction in the number of holidays associated with the veneration of saints. Without abandoning the cult of saints, Spifame undertakes a reform of the ecclesiastical calendar and creates a sort of national martyrology of warriors who died for their homeland and ‘are venerated as saints without a canonisation’.

Lives, Lives, and Afterlives

Caesarius of Arles in his role as bishop struggled to guide his growing Christian community amid the political and religious fragmentation of early sixth-century Gaul. This article examines the ways in which he shaped his pastoral pedagogy to address the ecclesiological challenges of the post-Roman world. In his own life, in retelling the lives of saints, and in publishing his sermons, Caesarius variously reconceptualized “example” in order to teach ordinary Christians how to live out their faith in a universal church – a stable, if idealized, community that brought comfort in uncertain times. His innovative pedagogy also reshaped the complex administration of the expanding Gallic church. Caesarius thus created a pedagogy of example to fit the needs of his post-Roman community.

A comment on Eric Lafferty's Article, "A Channel Apart: Contrasting John Henry Newman and Félicité Lammenais on the Dilemma of Church and State in the Nineteenth Century," Newman Studies Journal 16.1 (Summer 2019): 28–50

A comment on Eric Lafferty's Article, "A Channel Apart: Contrasting John Henry Newman and Félicité Lammenais on the Dilemma of Church and State in the Nineteenth Century," Newman Studies Journal 16.1 (Summer 2019): 28–50 Claudine Blanchard (bio) The issue of the relationship between the church and the state was at the core of Catholic concerns in 1830s France after the accession of King Louis-Philippe to the throne. Following W. G. Roe, Lafferty presents Lamennais's political thought compared to Newman's more practical views and explains the influence Lamennais may have had on Newman.1 I would like to complete this study, looking from the French side of the channel and ask a question: If Lamennais was not interested in liturgy, but rather in politics, and if it is true that his doctrine influenced the Tractarians, then what made the Oxford Movement a liturgical movement? In the first decades of the nineteenth century, France's eyes were turned to England, which appeared to have made political and ecclesial choices that were both modern (constitutional monarchy) and dangerous (a schism with Rome). Joseph de Maistre (1753–1821), one of the first theorists of the European counter-revolution, believed the pope should be the arbiter of the restored rulers of Europe. The submission to Peter's successor was for him the guarantee of a truly orthodox Christianity. He went so far as to think that Protestantism, in its schismatic tendency, produced revolution.2 Maistre invited his readers to "compare this strength and fertility to the absolute nullity of this same Church detached from the root."3 He called for unity and the gathering of all Christians around the pope: first the French Catholics (especially the so-called "Gallicans"), then [End Page 117] the Protestants in general, starting with the Anglicans who, according to him, were to open the way back to Rome. The Church of England was then shown as the typical example of what would become of the Gallican Church if she cut herself completely from her source: that is, Rome. The English example was then brandished as a threat. Maistre inspired several generations of Catholic thinkers, starting with Félicité de Lamennais who himself had disciples such as Charles de Montalembert, Henri Lacordaire, and Prosper Guéranger, the (re) founder of Solesmes Abbey in 1833. On the other side of the channel, the Oxford Movement in the 1830s raised the issue of the establishment of the church. The so-called "Tractarians" published 90 tracts (leaflets), mainly from 1833 to 1841, on subjects such as the church, theology, and liturgy. This movement started at Oriel College and was led by John Henry Newman (1801–1890), Hurrel Froude (1803–1836), John Keble (1792–1866), and Edward Pusey (1800–1882), all of whom were respectable clergymen of the University of Oxford. As ardent defenders of the Anglican Church, Newman, Keble, and Froude initially reacted against the 1829 law on Catholic emancipation, which they considered an inacceptable interference in the affairs of the church: How could the Church of England subsist as such if Catholics were now allowed to sit in parliament? In that context, Erastianism4—the subordination of the church to the state for religious matters—appeared to be failing. They embarked on research about the true nature of the church and decided to go to the source, reading the fathers of the church to seek the real foundation of their national church. The fruit of their research appears in their tracts in which they invoked the need to find the foundation on which the authority of the church is built.5 The question was about the nature of the church and tradition: What provides authority and defines the true church of Christ? French Catholics were wondering what was happening in England as they were also trying to rethink their relationship with the state after the still-recent trauma of the revolution. They looked to the Oxford Movement with great interest and hope. John Henry Newman had begun to read the fathers chronologically and critically, beginning in July 1828. He had discovered the liturgy by reading The Christian Year published in 1827 by his friend John...

Necator pauperum i necator egentium w prawodawstwie synodów galijskich V-VII wieku

One of the characteristic concepts present in the documents of the Gallic sy­nods from the 5th to the 7th centuries is necator pauperum (slayer of the poor), and related to it necator egentium (slayer of the needy). This article aims to analyse the use of these expressions in the synodal legislation. It shows that the notion generally refers to two types of abuse: retention of the offers due to the Church, and various forms of seizure of Church property. The synods also stipulate severe penalties against those judged guilty of being “slayers of the poor”. The study presents the Gallic Church during a very intense political, social and cultural tran­sition. It is a Church looking for its place in the new post-roman world, at a time of new opportunities and new dangers.

Sacrum Monarchiae Speculum: Der Sacre Ludwigs XV. 1722: Monarchische Tradition, Zeremoniell, Liturgie by Josef Johannes Schmid

Reviewed by: Sacrum Monarchiae Speculum: Der Sacre Ludwigs XV. 1722: Monarchische Tradition, Zeremoniell, Liturgie by Josef Johannes Schmid Uwe Michael Lang Josef Johannes Schmid Sacrum Monarchiae Speculum: Der Sacre Ludwigs XV. 1722: Monarchische Tradition, Zeremoniell, Liturgie Münster: Aschendorff, 2007 xliii + 647 pages. Hardbound. €79.00. Josef Johannes Schmid's study of the consecration of the French kings (sacre) in the early modern period is a major contribution to the growing field of research into the ritual representation of monarchy in European history, including the liturgical celebrations in which the understanding of Christian kingship was made visible. This erudite volume was published more than a decade ago, but has not yet found the interest it deserves among historians of liturgy. In France, the idea of sacred monarchy was carried further than anywhere else in Europe; this fact was acknowledged by none other than King Frederick II of Prussia, who is reported to have said: "Compared with the French king, we are all minor aristocrats." Schmid focuses on the sacre of the young Louis XV in 1722, in which the world of the ancien régime found its full expression (the sacre of Louis XVI in 1775 already showed a crisis of confidence in the face of the Enlightenment). The breadth of the author's scholarship is impressive. His work is the fruit of extensive research in the archives and libraries of Paris, Reims and beyond. In addition to the many manuscript sources, the author draws on the existing literature on European monarchical traditions. Schmid has a clear grasp of the liturgical context, and this provides the basis for his fascinating analysis of the theological and political implications of sacre. The author also takes into account the logistical and economic aspects of the great event and thus sheds light on the more mundane aspects of the magnificent celebrations. [End Page 86] Ever since the baptism of Clovis in 497, the Frankish and then the French monarchy understood itself as sacred. The identity of the monarch was defined in Christological terms: he was at the same time king and priest (and head of the French Church, which caused much rivalry with the papacy over the centuries). The concrete symbol of this tradition was the sainte ampoule, believed to contain the very oil that descended from heaven to be used for the anointing of Clovis. This symbol was so powerful that it incited the particular hatred and ridicule of the revolutionaries, who made every effort to destroy it. Schmid not only presents the rites and texts of the sacre, but also elucidates their theological meaning: in a ceremony that was analogous to the consecration of a bishop, the king became Christus Domini, the Lord's anointed. In his discussion of the royal insignia, the author argues for an interpretation of the main de justice as the sceptre of St. Peter, the Prince of the Apostles. Thus it can be read as a concrete sign of the privileges of the Gallican Church versus papal primacy. The sacred character of the king was illustrated in a particularly dramatic way by the toucher du roy, the ceremony at which the newly anointed monarch healed lepers by imposition of his hands. Taking issue with Marc Bloch's discussion of the subject, Schmid construes this act as an expression of the Christological dimension of kingship. Through his anointing, the king is raised on a par with the apostles, to whom Christ entrusted the power of healing. The revolutionary fury of 1789 and beyond can only be understood against this ideological background. Schmid also shows that this exalted idea of the king was contested in France itself, not least by the nobility, which had been deprived of its traditional roles by the absolutism of the grand siècle. Moreover, the papacy was not at ease with the ecclesiological implications of sacred kingship, as is evident from the struggles between the popes and the kings of France in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. If any criticism could be levelled against Schmid's captivating work, then it is his harsh treatment of the popes who had reservations about the claims of the French monarchy. [End Page 87] Sacrum Monarchiae Speculum is...

Vatican from Utrecht to Rastatt, from perspective of Christian Cole, representative of England in Venice

This work analysess the opinion of Vatican and Pope Clement XI (1700-1721) about new relations in Italy, that are consequences of Rastatt and Utrecht treaties. Archive materials from the National Archives in London, specifically reports of an England's representative in Venice were used. Since he regularly received reports from Rome, Naples and Sicily, Christian Cole regularly and dutifully informed London of occurrences in these states. Due to the mentioned fact, his correspondence provides a certain overview of events in Vatican, and some dispositions are opposed to those revealed by the historiography of this period. The Utrecht Peace caused significant changes in the Apennine Peninsula, and Vatican was not prepared to accept them. Break-through of Austria into this part of Europe is, by all means, one of its most important consequences. One of pontiff's responses to changes on the political map of Italy was his approaching to Charles VI, whom he saw as a protector of the Catholic Church, in the period when the conflict with Louis XIV culminated because of his efforts to achieve autonomy for the Gallican church. After Rastatt, the Pope became deeply disappointed with Charles VI. This was bound to happen, since Charles VI tried to introduce the Kingdom of Naples into his sphere of interest, which was in conflict with Vatican's interest, and the approaching noticed during 1713 could not last for long, in the circumstances when the Pope had to fight for his endangered privileges.

À la croisée des arts: Sublime et musique religieuse en Europe (XVIIe-XVIIIe siècles). Ed. by Sophie Hache and Thierry Favier

When Nicolas Boileau-Despréaux released Du Sublime (1674)—the first rendering of Longinus’ treatise in French, accompanied by several remarks on the translation—the satirist opened the door to a heated debate in the European Republic of Letters, in which Edmund Burke, John Dennis, and Immanuel Kant, among others, made their voices heard. Since then, scholars have appropriated the concept and have variously attempted to apply it to their discipline. However, this very concept has long remained neglected by French musicology, in spite of the pioneering studies on the musical sublime in the eighteenth century by Alexander Shapiro (Music & Letters, 1936), and then Luca Zopelli (1990), Michael Fend (1993), Ruth Smith (1995), Michela Garda (1995), and James Webster (1997). Thierry Favier can be credited as the author of the first article in French on the impact the sublime had on the sacred musical style at Versailles (‘Lalande et le sublime: Doctrines rhétoriques et tradition oratoire dans ses premiers grands motets’, in Lionel Sawkins (ed.), Lalande et ses contemporains (Paris, 2008), 119–14), and on Michel-Richard de Lalande’s motets in particular. Together with Sophie Hache, who has written on the use of sublime eloquence in the Gallican church (La Langue du ciel: Le Sublime en France au XVIIème siècle (Paris, 2000)), Favier organized an international conference on this important subject in November 2012. Its proceedings are published here, in the first volume of its kind to have been issued in France. Its aim is to investigate the sublime not only in the sacred music of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but also in several sister disciplines (literature, philosophy, fine arts, history, liturgy), so as to provide useful keys to better understanding an ‘aesthetical notion that relates to transcendental experience’ (p. 45).

Huguenot History as Game of Thrones

Huguenot History as Game of Thrones Neil Kamil (bio) Geoffrey Treasure. The Huguenots. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013. xiv + 480 pp. Figures, notes, bibliography, and index. $35.00. At the large public university where I teach, on the first day of the U.S. survey, 330 students take their seats, most with low expectations. A good number come from small towns where football coaches do double-duty as public school history teachers. This arrangement does not usually engender much love for the discipline. They play a different brand of football in Britain, of course, where Geoffrey Treasure taught history for forty years before retiring as senior master at Harrow—a very different sort of public school, where such aristocratic schoolboys as Byron and Winston Churchill prepared for Oxford and Cambridge. Harrow remains an exclusive boys’ school, and Treasure's “stimulating—though often sobering—experience of form room teaching” (p. xiv) in this rarified place has influenced his prolific historical writing. As The Huguenots—his fifth book on seventeenth-century France—makes clear, it is a good bet that Treasure is a remarkable teacher. His epigrammatic and shrewd writing reveals a formative link to the privileged classrooms where he has spent most of his distinguished career. The Huguenots is a learned synthesis intended for well-informed history buffs who seek a challenging foray into the political, military, and religious history of early-modern French elites. Lay readers with strong interests in the seventeenth-century will find Treasure an enthusiastic storyteller who gets in and out of well-known narratives with style and dispatch. Nevertheless, this is a substantial book that will require much concentrated reading time. It is divided into thirty-eight chapters, few exceeding ten pages, so selective readers can pick and choose. Treasure's format has obvious liabilities, but it emphasizes what successful history teachers at the secondary level learn from “sobering” experience: keep it lively and don't rattle on too long. The lapidary approach to chapters will also please specialists, but for different reasons. Advanced historians of early modern France and the outremer will discover little new here, as they will have read everything in the well-informed and annotated secondary-source bibliography. For them, more [End Page 203] adventurous reading and discussion in other disciplines would enrich this project enormously. However, graduate students who have yet to tackle their comprehensive exams will find several parts of the book useful for preparation, and later too, particularly as they begin lecture-writing. Indeed, even as more Americanists engage avidly with the current growth in French-Atlantic scholarship, the job market softens for historians of seventeenth-century France. This hinders development in both fields. Treasure's formidable knowledge of the historiography and those canonical narratives that early modern French historians have commonly taught in their graduate seminars will therefore prove valuable to a growing number of early American historians. Treasure aims to breathe fresh life into centuries of such familiar stories that revolve around mimetic violence (a term he does not use) between the forces of orthodoxy and heresy framed by the Valois and Bourbon response to the French Reformation and Counter-Reformation. Thus, as Treasure describes it, by the 1530s, Francis I, his monarchy by tradition the guardian of the Gallican Church's imperative to assert independence in French religious and geopolitical interests against what the court perceived to be undue papal influence, “was unimpressed by the actions of his fellow sovereign Henry VIII, which led to a schism and the establishment of an English church under the crown” (p. 23). Francis and his successors knew “[f]rom the way in which monarchy had evolved over the centuries there had come to be a special relationship between church and crown” (p. 23). This meant that despite deep differences with Rome that also stemmed from competition with Spanish or Italian interests and occasional alignment by reason of state with Protestant powers, this “special relationship” would inevitably “determine the Huguenots’ eventual fate. So long as the crown remained Catholic the Huguenot would be more than a heretic,” Treasure writes. “He was guilty of lèse majesté, a rebel” (p. 23). For Treasure then, a “kind of security” (p. 23...

Władza sądownicza biskupa galijskiego według Grzegorza z Tours

From the examples preserved in literature of Gregory of Tours the Gallic Church in the 6th century accomplished a crucial role in the judiciary system of the age. Bishops used to resolve not only own matters concerning the clergy or Canon Laws but also used to pass judgements on various arguments in which lay people were the parties. The highest hierarch acted alone or in the presence of the lay judge and other participants of the dispute and was unquestionably fulfilling formal procedural line. In the judicial procedure the bishop was appearing mainly as a mediator, with hope to reach the compromise by using his own high prestige and following the current law. In this procedure he was guided by a principle of the Christian mercy, clearly considering the Church learning in settling matters accor­ding the God’s justice, for which to its own conviction, he was a representative. Gregory’s of Tours iustitia implied such ideas, like the faithful life, charitable activity and the fair revenge. Bishops of this period were appearing consciously in the role of God’s messengers spreading the peace and love, and having the duty to support and protect the poor. In this way bishops are using judicial activity as the form of the pastoral ministry. Through such an attitude they were undoubtedly contributing to create a new civilization and relief the barbaric customs of Dark Ages epoch.

Gallican Liberties and the Catholic League

SummaryTheorists of Gallican liberty took as their premise the idea that France had an exceptional status amongst the national Christian churches. However, as contemporaries had noted, the precise definition of Gallican liberties remained at stake; Antoine Hotman noted in his treatise on the subject that ‘it is a strange phenomenon that everyone talks of the liberties of the Gallican Church and, most of the time, very few people know what they are and cannot account for their origins or for their progress’. Within the context of French reactions to the papal excommunications of Henri III and Henri de Navarre, and reception of the Tridentine decrees, the question of how to define Gallican liberty was an extremely pertinent one. This article examines the treatment of Gallican ideas in Catholic League treatises as they negotiated a balance between arguments for Gallican independence and indirect papal power. Despite accusations from their contemporaries that they were attacking the Gallican church, Leaguer discussions of Gallican liberty frequently proved to be an integral part of the argument that Catholicity was a ‘fundamental law’ of France.

The Council of Turin (398/399) and the Reorganization of Gaul ca. 395/406

The Council of Turin, which quite irregularly met in Italy even though it proposed to deal with the church of Gaul, has been the most studied and least understood of all the councils involving the late antique Gallic church. This study argues for a single council, contrary to past suggestions that there were two or even three Councils of Turin. It pinpoints the date of the meeting in either 398 or 399 CE. It then investigates in detail the background, procedures, and consequences of the council. Because of the lack of authority of Italian bishops to legislate for the church of Gaul, the most the council could do was make suggestions. It is argued that, with the imperial court located in northern Italy and with the bishops of Milan attempting to aggrandize their influence, the Council of Turin was but one element of a coherent initiative to reorganize and regularize the secular and ecclesiastical administration of Gaul as of 395 CE. These initiatives were brought to a halt by the Gallic political crises of 406 and later. Contrary to past assumptions, the Council of Turin had very little direct influence on the subsequent history of the Gallic church, and was only very rarely cited as an authority.

The French Idea of History: Joseph de Maistre and His Heirs, 1794-1854, by Carolina Armenteros.

"The French Idea of History: Joseph de Maistre and His Heirs, 1794-1854, by Carolina Armenteros.." Canadian Journal of History, 47(3), pp. 640–641

De "Proculi damnatione": Próculo de Marsella y la construcción de la Iglesia gala a principios del siglo V

El presente artículo se centra en el largo obispado de Próculo deMarsella (ca. 381-428) con el fin de analizar este momento clave en el proceso consolidación de la estructura institucional de la Iglesia gala.Asimismo, este trabajo trata de poner en práctica una metodología que permita analizar procesos complejos de desarrollo institucional.

Within and Without: Lay People and the Church in Gregory of Tours’ Miracle Stories

Gregory of Tours’ miracle collections are filled with lay people, sometimes standing in the foreground but more often lurking anonymously in the background. We are familiar with the seekers of cures, but they are surrounded in the texts by retinues of other figures, often mentioned only in passing. Many of these figures are connected to the institutions of the church in complicated ways. Some have established themselves on church grounds as beggars, the professional poor or servants; others are irregular ascetics or their financial supporters. They occupy a grey zone in the religious world of early medieval Gaul and defy any neat categorisation of the population into “religious” or “secular.”They are thereby a means to challenge the definitions of lay status offered both in contemporary sources and in the works of modern historians seeking to trace the late antique frontier between lay and clerical. These figures can reveal a great deal about the position of the Gallic church in local communities – how it operated both as a resource to those around it, and how it benefited from those who “served” it in many different capacities. Gregory’s miracle collections also give some indications of the agency of the laity in using and manipulating religious institutions to their own ends. They reveal a world in which the church, its institutions, and its people have become thoroughly embedded in the cultural world of late antique Gaul.

Politics and Religion in Early Bourbon France, ed. Alison Forrestal and Eric Nelson

The editors of this collection argue that the period 1589 to 1629, sandwiched between the wars of religion and the later seventeenth century, has rarely been treated as worthy of study in its own right. These essays offer a valuable corrective, reconsidering the period's significance, and what it suggests about continuity or change over a longer time-span. Bringing together scholars from France, Ireland, England and North America, the collection offers much to those interested in early modern France. Alain Tallon's essay emphasises the significance of Henri IV's absolution for politics in Rome, France's international standing, and Henri's authority. The absolution, a victory for Clement VIII over the Congregation of the Holy Office, was informed by difficult Papal-Spanish relations. It gave the Gallican church greater freedom of manoeuvre and allowed France to recover influence within the papal court and other Italian states. Tallon demonstrates how Henry's absolution and his support of Catholic reform marked an important transition in Franco-Papal relations. While his successors staunchly defended the rights of the French Crown, they did so in the framework of a Tridentine Church.

VOLTAIRE: OEuvres completes de Voltaire, 28A. OEuvres de 1742-1745 (I)

Volume 28A is another stunning volume from the Complete Works of Voltaire team that will give great physical pleasure to readers for centuries to come. It boasts lovely paper, editorial excellence and a wonderful sense of permanence. One element alone detracts from it: the title Œuvres de 1742–1745 (I) camouflages the fact that this volume houses many fascinating works of Voltaire's mid-career. Unless proper, detailed indexing is urgently provided by the Voltaire Foundation on a future state-of-the-art website, readers may inadvertently overlook the gems contained within volume 28A and similar compilation volumes, and this would be a terrible shame. Russell Goulbourne takes a fresh, prefatory look at 1742–1745, or Voltaire's pre-Versailles years, as the philosophe curries favour to become a courtier of Louis XV. David Williams presents the short Fragment sur la corruption du style, where Voltaire argues that ‘le mélange des styles’ is the antithesis of good literary practice. Only fragments remain of Voltaire's farcical comedy Thérèse. Goulbourne notes how during its conception D'Argental warned Voltaire that Thérèse was in poor taste; it was subsequently withdrawn and never performed. Olivier Ferret unravels the labyrinthine editorial history of the brief, but caustic, A M.***sur le mémoire de Desfontaines, highlighting the fact that Voltaire hides behind the persona of Malicourt in order to insult Desfontaines with greater vehemence. Within the short essay Sur la police des spectacles, Williams situates the venomous irony with which Voltaire denounces the Gallican church's hypocrisy in excommunicating actors of the Comédie-Française, effectively placing them on a par with witches. Voltaire's comédie-ballet La Princesse de Navarre was first performed at a 1745 royal wedding, receiving a positive contemporary reception, but only after myriad teething difficulties between Voltaire and the notoriously temperamental Rameau. Goulbourne traces the opera's unhappy and labour-intensive genesis, contrasting this with its royal propagandistic values, propelled by themes of victory, honour and love. The similarly court-commissioned opera-ballet Le Temple de la Gloire was another work of royal propaganda for Louis XV's court, which fused history with mythology, and which, as Goulbourne notes, Voltaire lived to regret. Intended as a celebration of Fontenoy, this was the final collaboration between Voltaire and Rameau and the allegory was a great success with the king, who was implicitly compared with emperor Trajan. Ralph A. Nablow presents the final section of this collection, subtitled Shorter verse of 1742–1745 and housing nearly 40 poetic pieces, dedicated to a range of personages, including Mme Du Châtelet, Swedish princesses, duchesses, King Frederick of Prussia, a Frisian poet, and the marquise de Pompadour. They include typically humorous offerings, often in quatrains, such as the cheeky Vers sur un dindon à l'ail. Voltaire's adoring character-sketch of Émilie, ‘les livres, les bijoux, les compas, les pompons’, figures in Étrennes à madame Du Châtelet. Some rather gushing poetry addressed to various royal figures, not least the sycophantic couplet Impromptu sur une rose que le roi de Prusse donna à Voltaire, reflects Voltaire's eagerness to curry royal favour and recognition throughout these key, if rather whirlwind, years.

Louis XVI's chapel and the French Revolution (1789-1792)

Abstract — The close association of Christianity with the late Bourbon monarchy’s style of governance has often been interpreted as a burdensome legacy, which impacted greatly on the period preceding the French Revolution. In recent years, historians have referred to the ideological, juridical and intellectual assaults on the religious foundations of the French crown, throughout the eighteenth century, either as a process of ‘ desacralization ’ or as the religious origins of the French Revolution. This article, though inspired by this school of thought, takes a different approach by examining the less well-known ceremonial and ritual components of this form of kingship, with particular reference to the king’s chapel. Louis XVI’s ecclesiastical household was both the centre of royal patronage for the Gallican Church and the chief regulatory authority of the monarch’s personal religious devotion. Its actions, transformation and fate during the Revolution are instructive in two ways. First, its survival during the first three years of the revolutionary troubles highlights its fundamental and constraining influence over the French monarchy. Secondly, the gradual, though determined, effort to undermine the pact between throne and altar that it represented exemplifi es a lesser known aspect of the national deputies ’ anticlerical agenda.

Une loi de l'Eglise et de l'Etat: Napoleon and the central administration of religious life, 1800 1815

In 1802 the Napoleonic government removed authority over religious holidays from the Gallican Church. In Old Regime France bishops decided which holidays were observed in their dioceses. The Republican Calendar had eliminated official recognition of Catholic holidays but not their widespread observance. Napoleon reinstated the Gregorian Calendar but not the holidays of the Old Regime. At his request, a papal indult eliminated the weekday observance of all but four Catholic holidays. The reform drew on the legacy of the Enlightenment, especially Montesquieu. The clergy of the Gallican Church oversaw the indult's execution, which was complicated by ambiguous wording. Napoleon attempted to merge religious and political obedience, so the best Christians would also be the best subjects, while making it clear that the government was the dominant power. The Restoration subsequently kept the indult in place, neither adding more holidays nor relinquishing authority over the matter.

A View from France on the Internal Complexity of National Models

In this paper, I argue that explicit national models of religious governance inevitably conceal tensions and ambiguities, and are not suitable bases for socio-political analysis of religious governance. I take the French notion of ‘laïcité’ as an example, pointing out the diversity of definitions and uses of the term. A stronger foundation for analysis is the long-term tradition of the state controlling and supporting recognised religions, a tradition that dates from the early modern Gallican Church and continues through Napoleon's Concordat, the state's assumption of responsibility for maintaining church buildings and paying religious school teachers' salaries in the twentieth century, and the recent creation of a national Islamic body, the Conseil Français du Culte Musulman (CFCM). I draw on this idea to examine the preceding papers in this special issue.