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        <title><![CDATA[@Lorsagne de Sade - blog]]></title>
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        <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade</link>
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                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne enjoys a bath . . . and an extra day in Marseille - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/603/lorsagne-enjoys-a-bath-and-an-extra-day-in-marseille</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/603</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ Early morning, 18 August 1784  Maison Diamante, Marseille  Lorsagne did not share the common belief that soaking in waterespecially hot waterwould permit disease to enter her body, and she was pleased to see that the finely finished and furnished room provided for her use in de Saboulin Bollenas house known as Maison Diamante contained a large copper bathtub, as well as an enormous tile stove capable of heating both the room and the requisite water she would need to wash away the grime of the journey from Sorrentina to Marseille.  The servant assigned to tend to her needs disapproved, of course, but the woman had followed Lorsagnes instruction to have the tub filled with hot water at dawn so Lorsagne could begin her day with a bath infused with lavender, mint, and dried iris flowers. Fresh linen garments were simply no substitute for a long soak to Lorsagnes mind and she used the time in her bath to review what she had learned the previous evening over a long and felicitous dinner with her godfather and their host, a representative of the powerful and ancient house of Saboulin Bollena, one of Marseilles premier ship-owners trading with ports of the Levant as well as the West Indies.  Splashing the now cooling water over her breasts she laughed recalling how Saboulin Bollena had come to her defense when she protested to her godfather that she needed a day of rest on land before once again boarding a ship where she would be subject to the discomfort that always accompanied her when she was forced to travel by sea. Saboulin Bollena had interjected that he, too, suffered from chronic seasickness that no amount of ginger could alleviate and convinced her godfather that a days delay would allow him to ensure the ship he was putting at their disposal was well-provisioned and that its captain and crew were both skilled and discrete.  Considering that the presence of Lorsagnes godfather in France defied the orders of both the French king and the pope, discretion was a compelling argument against which Camara had made no objection.  Rising from her bath and attended by the serving woman who wrapped her in warmed linen sheets, Lorsagne turned her thoughts to the small packet of correspondence her godfather had given her the evening before. She would spend the day writing and dispatching her replies, beginning with the Parisian jeweler to whom she had given the commission to create a suitable christening gift for her godchild Maria and ending with a response to Capitane Lucien de Robion-Castellanes worrisome report about her friend Fannys young solider, Lt. Henri Badeau.       ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Mon, 15 Sep 2014 10:54:08 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne enjoys a bath . . . and an extra day in Marseille - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/602/lorsagne-enjoys-a-bath-and-an-extra-day-in-marseille</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/602</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ Early morning, 18 August 1784  Maison Diamante, Marseille  Lorsagne did not share the common belief that soaking in waterespecially hot waterwould permit disease to enter her body, and she was pleased to see that the finely finished and furnished room provided for her use in de Saboulin Bollenas house known as Maison Diamante contained a large copper bathtub, as well as an enormous tile stove capable of heating both the room and the requisite water she would need to wash away the grime of the journey from Sorrentina to Marseille.  The servant assigned to tend to her needs disapproved, of course, but the woman had followed Lorsagnes instruction to have the tub filled with hot water at dawn so Lorsagne could begin her day with a bath infused with lavender, mint, and dried iris flowers. Fresh linen garments were simply no substitute for a long soak to Lorsagnes mind and she used the time in her bath to review what she had learned the previous evening over a long and felicitous dinner with her godfather and their host, a representative of the powerful and ancient house of Saboulin Bollena, one of Marseilles premier ship-owners trading with ports of the Levant as well as the West Indies.  Splashing the now cooling water over her breasts she laughed recalling how Saboulin Bollena had come to her defense when she protested to her godfather that she needed a day of rest on land before once again boarding a ship where she would be subject to the discomfort that always accompanied her when she was forced to travel by sea. Saboulin Bollena had interjected that he, too, suffered from chronic seasickness that no amount of ginger could alleviate and convinced her godfather that a days delay would allow him to ensure the ship he was putting at their disposal was well-provisioned and that its captain and crew were both skilled and discrete.  Considering that the presence of Lorsagnes godfather in France defied the orders of both the French king and the pope, discretion was a compelling argument against which Camara had made no objection.  Rising from her bath and attended by the serving woman who wrapped her in warmed linen sheets, Lorsagne turned her thoughts to the small packet of correspondence her godfather had given her the evening before. She would spend the day writing and dispatching her replies, beginning with the Parisian jeweler to whom she had given the commission to create a suitable christening gift for her godchild Maria and ending with a response to Capitane Lucien de Robion-Castellanes worrisome report about her friend Fannys young solider, Lt. Henri Badeau.       ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Mon, 15 Sep 2014 10:54:08 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne is reunited with her godfather in Marseille - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/601/lorsagne-is-reunited-with-her-godfather-in-marseille</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/601</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[Late-afternoon, 17thof August, 1784Godfather!Even in the dim light of the small sacristy, there was no mistaking the sole occupant who waited for Lorsagne, and it gave the old man joy to see his godchilds normally guarded face break into the smile of a child: open, trusting and full of joy.His passenger delivered safely to his old teacher and confessor, de Saboulin Bollena turned to leave, knowing that another carriage awaited behind the basilica that would take the exiled Jesuit and his godchild to his own house for safekeeping, rest and refreshment before beginning the next leg of their journey. He would join the two this evening for dinner and conversation, and de Saboulin Bollena smiled to himself at the prospect of the Jesuits discomfort when he would have to tell the woman that she would not be traveling to Paris or Bordeaux but would instead be returning to Sorrentina in less than a days time.]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 13 Sep 2014 12:30:52 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne is reunited with her godfather in Marseille - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/600/lorsagne-is-reunited-with-her-godfather-in-marseille</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/600</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[Late-afternoon, 17thof August, 1784Godfather!Even in the dim light of the small sacristy, there was no mistaking the sole occupant who waited for Lorsagne, and it gave the old man joy to see his godchilds normally guarded face break into the smile of a child: open, trusting and full of joy.His passenger delivered safely to his old teacher and confessor, de Saboulin Bollena turned to leave, knowing that another carriage awaited behind the basilica that would take the exiled Jesuit and his godchild to his own house for safekeeping, rest and refreshment before beginning the next leg of their journey. He would join the two this evening for dinner and conversation, and de Saboulin Bollena smiled to himself at the prospect of the Jesuits discomfort when he would have to tell the woman that she would not be traveling to Paris or Bordeaux but would instead be returning to Sorrentina in less than a days time.]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 13 Sep 2014 12:30:52 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne disembarks in Marseille while a good mother keeps watch - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/587/lorsagne-disembarks-in-marseille-while-a-good-mother-keeps-watch</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/587</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[17th of August, 1784Marseille, FranceLorsagne loved the human commotion of ports, and the Port of Marseille, Frances premiere military and merchant port with access to Frances inland waterways via the River Rhone was no exception. Once she and her belongings reached shore and her feet were once again planted on solid land she handed off a letter to a young man eager for work instructing him to wait for a reply and showing him a small handful of coins that would be his once he returned. Counting the coins in her palm, the young man took off at a run; Lorsagne bargained he would return within the hour.An hour standing on the docks in the heat of a late-summer Provence afternoon was bearable, so parasol in hand and surrounded by her small pile of chests accompanying her from Sorrentina, she watched as a great Spanish ship arriving from Cadiz disgorged the wealth of Spanish America: indigo from Guatemala, leather from Buenos Aires, copper from Peru and Mexico, wool, cocoa from Caracas, vanilla, gold, silver. A dozen barrels rolled off the ship as she watched, whisked away by scruffy porters who took their direction from burly lookouts. Smugglers, Lorsagne thought, and likely the wine was Spanish brought into France as contraband. As a vigneron in a place where the purity of wine was a reflection of both respect and pride in the soil that nourished the vines and brought forth new life with all its promise each year, Lorsagne could not help but hold the tainted Spanish wine in contempt. At the same time she understood the ease and the appeal of the deception; she told herself that if the making of wine held no profit, it would hold no interest for her. Lorsagne was calculating the expenseand the potentialof the coming harvest when she saw the handsome calche approach. The youth she had sent to deliver her message was running along side the handsome two-seated open carriage with a falling hood. A pair of heavy muscled Arabians that pulled the vehicle came to a stop, standing nearly motionless with a seeming disdain for their surroundings. Magnificent creatures and they and the carriage drew stares of laborers, merchants and travelers alike. The armorial bearings on the carriage door confirmed the owners identity, and as she crossed the few steps to the waiting vehicle Lorsagne drew down her parasol, said a silent prayer of thanks for the breadth of her godfathers contacts, and handed the promised coins to the youth who had delivered her message.The coachman arranged a small portable step to permit Lorsagne ease of access. Giving him her gloved hand she entered the low-riding vehicle easily, settling herself beside the carriages only other occupant. Her chests secured to the undercarriage, she and her companion left the dock, making their way through the ports crowded streets headed to the low hills surrounding the Bay of Marseille in the direction of a fortress and basilica built in the 13th and 16th centuries at the highest point of Marseille, a limestone peak known as "La Garde" rising to a height of more than 160 meters. The combined fort and basilica were visible from every point in Marseille. Standing proud, glowing in the reflected heat of terraced stone pathways and bathed in the hard brilliant sunlight of Provence the inhabitants of Marseille referred to the basilica as Notre Dame de la Garde: the good mother who watched over Frances gateway to the Mediterranean.Like the Tarot reading for the newborn, Lorsagne took her destination as an omen. As she and her companion walked the length of the basilica to reach a small door towards the back, Lorsagne drew the hood of her traveling cloak over her head and entered the stone building unobserved.]]></description>
                <pubDate>Wed, 20 Aug 2014 19:16:54 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne disembarks in Marseille while a good mother keeps watch - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/586/lorsagne-disembarks-in-marseille-while-a-good-mother-keeps-watch</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/586</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[17th of August, 1784Marseille, FranceLorsagne loved the human commotion of ports, and the Port of Marseille, Frances premiere military and merchant port with access to Frances inland waterways via the River Rhone was no exception. Once she and her belongings reached shore and her feet were once again planted on solid land she handed off a letter to a young man eager for work instructing him to wait for a reply and showing him a small handful of coins that would be his once he returned. Counting the coins in her palm, the young man took off at a run; Lorsagne bargained he would return within the hour.An hour standing on the docks in the heat of a late-summer Provence afternoon was bearable, so parasol in hand and surrounded by her small pile of chests accompanying her from Sorrentina, she watched as a great Spanish ship arriving from Cadiz disgorged the wealth of Spanish America: indigo from Guatemala, leather from Buenos Aires, copper from Peru and Mexico, wool, cocoa from Caracas, vanilla, gold, silver. A dozen barrels rolled off the ship as she watched, whisked away by scruffy porters who took their direction from burly lookouts. Smugglers, Lorsagne thought, and likely the wine was Spanish brought into France as contraband. As a vigneron in a place where the purity of wine was a reflection of both respect and pride in the soil that nourished the vines and brought forth new life with all its promise each year, Lorsagne could not help but hold the tainted Spanish wine in contempt. At the same time she understood the ease and the appeal of the deception; she told herself that if the making of wine held no profit, it would hold no interest for her. Lorsagne was calculating the expenseand the potentialof the coming harvest when she saw the handsome calche approach. The youth she had sent to deliver her message was running along side the handsome two-seated open carriage with a falling hood. A pair of heavy muscled Arabians that pulled the vehicle came to a stop, standing nearly motionless with a seeming disdain for their surroundings. Magnificent creatures and they and the carriage drew stares of laborers, merchants and travelers alike. The armorial bearings on the carriage door confirmed the owners identity, and as she crossed the few steps to the waiting vehicle Lorsagne drew down her parasol, said a silent prayer of thanks for the breadth of her godfathers contacts, and handed the promised coins to the youth who had delivered her message.The coachman arranged a small portable step to permit Lorsagne ease of access. Giving him her gloved hand she entered the low-riding vehicle easily, settling herself beside the carriages only other occupant. Her chests secured to the undercarriage, she and her companion left the dock, making their way through the ports crowded streets headed to the low hills surrounding the Bay of Marseille in the direction of a fortress and basilica built in the 13th and 16th centuries at the highest point of Marseille, a limestone peak known as "La Garde" rising to a height of more than 160 meters. The combined fort and basilica were visible from every point in Marseille. Standing proud, glowing in the reflected heat of terraced stone pathways and bathed in the hard brilliant sunlight of Provence the inhabitants of Marseille referred to the basilica as Notre Dame de la Garde: the good mother who watched over Frances gateway to the Mediterranean.Like the Tarot reading for the newborn, Lorsagne took her destination as an omen. As she and her companion walked the length of the basilica to reach a small door towards the back, Lorsagne drew the hood of her traveling cloak over her head and entered the stone building unobserved.]]></description>
                <pubDate>Wed, 20 Aug 2014 19:16:54 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The voyage from Sorrentina to Marseille - Fresh figs, Signora McBain's coffee, and time for correspondence - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/581/the-voyage-from-sorrentina-to-marseille-fresh-figs-signora-mcbains-coffee-and-time-for-correspondence</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/581</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[August, 1784From the time Lorsagne made the decision to book passage for Marseilles, her maid Perrette had less than twelve hours to pack everything her mistress would need for the journey. The two-masted Minerva would cast off from Sorrentina at dawn, and the young woman who had served Lorsagne for the past several years worked through the night to pack de Sades belongings and to secure the additional supplies her mistress would need to make the sea-voyage with as little discomfort as possible.Lorsagnes books, several letter cases, and her brass-handled writing box fitted with seals and sealing-wax, notepaper, nibs and a pen-shaft were packed first. Next, travel clothing and articles of toilette were chosen. The bulk of Lorsagnes wardrobe would be kept on the island in anticipation of Lorsagnes return. While Perrette sorted through wigs, gowns, cloaks, slippers, hats, corsets and chemises, Lorsagne tended to her jewelry and other items of a personal nature she did not wish the maid to handle. Sending Perrette to the baker to await the first loaves of fresh bread, Lorsagne packed her jewelry in soft flannel pouches secured with fine silk cording which she then secured around her waist so the bags would be hidden by her skirt. By the time Lorsagne finished dressing, Perette returned with food to sustain Lorsagne during the four-day voyage from Sorrentina to the busy port of Marseilles. Freshly baked flatbread was laid atop lidded baskets packed with sweet butter, local cheese, cured mutton, almonds, fat lemons, figs, and local stone fruits whose ripe scent would help mask the fetid odors of the ships small cabin. Lorsagne laughed at the mounds of food, telling Perette she would grow fat and that it would be the girls fault.All was ready, and Perette summoned two young male servants to load a waiting cart with her mistresss belonging and take them to the docks where strong-backed sailors would convey them to the waiting ship and use stout rope to firmly secure all of Lorsagnes belongings in the tiny cabin Lorsagne had been able to book.Lorsagne and Perette accompanied the porters, with Lorsagne carrying a small package Signora McBain had delivered to her rooms moments before she took her leave. Lorsagne held the package to her chest tightly, inhaling the rich fragrance of the Signoras prized coffee beans freshly roasted and ground fine to permit her the luxury of fresh coffee to revive the bodyand to mask the taste of the ration of brackish water that Lorsagne would be allotted on her trip. Perette carried two small casks of brandy as additional assurance that Lorsagne would be able to use a share of her allotment of fresh water for hygiene instead of being forced to drink water stored in wooden casks and often fouled by slime.In the several minutes it took the small party to reach the docks, Perette and the two porters chatted in the way of young people, their soft laughter breaking the silence of the early hour. Lorsagne was quiet, listening to her own thoughts and memories of Sorrentina and the cry of sea birds taking flight as the sky began to lighten.Perette would stay in Sorrentina; Lorsagne would travel faster alone and she wanted the keen-eyed serving girl to keep an eye on her possessionsand her interestsin her absence. As they made their farewells, Lorsagne slipped a heavy envelope into Perettes hands instructing her not to break the seal and extract the contents unless Lorsagne failed to return within three months time. When the girl attempted to query Lorsagne about the letters contents, she was rebuked with uncharacteristic harshness. Downcast and puzzled, Perette slipped the envelope into her skirt pocket and watched as Lorsagne boarded the skiff that would carry her from the dock to the waiting vessel.Within minutes, Lorsagnes form was swallowed by the early-morning fog and Perette made her way back to her mistresss rooms still stinging from her chastisement, wondering if the letter was a portent of dangers of which she had no knowledge, and resigned that while fair-minded and generous, her mistress would remain as much of a mystery as the implacable small plaster icons of the saints to whom she prayed when she sought favors and forgiveness. +++By the second day at sea, the effects of waters made rough by late-summer heat and strong crosswinds left Lorsagne with little appetite. She kept to her cabin and wrote letters by the hour. Possessed of a fine hand, a keen eye for observing her surroundings and sufficient wit to render her impressionsand her aimswith ease and clarity, Lorsagne enjoyed a wide-ranging and effective correspondence with persons useful to her interests. The developments in Sorrentina would call on all of Losagnes contacts, and Lorsagne used her time at sea to begin the process of securing a place in the world for her godchild. She wrote with few interruptions, and although Perette had managed to secure 30 sheets of parchment, the supply was exhausted by the third day.By the fourth day, Lorsagnes supply of fresh food was also depleted, and as the ship anchored some several hundred feet from the docks of Marseilles, Lorsagne was impatient to disembark, make arrangements for delivery of her correspondence, and secure a coach and four for the long overland journey home. She had one detour to make before she would reach The Haven: the Bastille. It was not a stop she wished to make, but Lorsagne feared the repercussions should she fail to present herself as requested in the letter she had received days before leaving Sorrentina.]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 15 Aug 2014 08:48:25 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The voyage from Sorrentina to Marseille - Fresh figs, Signora McBain's coffee, and time for correspondence - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/579/the-voyage-from-sorrentina-to-marseille-fresh-figs-signora-mcbains-coffee-and-time-for-correspondence</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/579</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[August, 1784From the time Lorsagne made the decision to book passage for Marseilles, her maid Perrette had less than twelve hours to pack everything her mistress would need for the journey. The two-masted Minerva would cast off from Sorrentina at dawn, and the young woman who had served Lorsagne for the past several years worked through the night to pack de Sades belongings and to secure the additional supplies her mistress would need to make the sea-voyage with as little discomfort as possible.Lorsagnes books, several letter cases, and her brass-handled writing box fitted with seals and sealing-wax, notepaper, nibs and a pen-shaft were packed first. Next, travel clothing and articles of toilette were chosen. The bulk of Lorsagnes wardrobe would be kept on the island in anticipation of Lorsagnes return. While Perrette sorted through wigs, gowns, cloaks, slippers, hats, corsets and chemises, Lorsagne tended to her jewelry and other items of a personal nature she did not wish the maid to handle. Sending Perrette to the baker to await the first loaves of fresh bread, Lorsagne packed her jewelry in soft flannel pouches secured with fine silk cording which she then secured around her waist so the bags would be hidden by her skirt. By the time Lorsagne finished dressing, Perette returned with food to sustain Lorsagne during the four-day voyage from Sorrentina to the busy port of Marseilles. Freshly baked flatbread was laid atop lidded baskets packed with sweet butter, local cheese, cured mutton, almonds, fat lemons, figs, and local stone fruits whose ripe scent would help mask the fetid odors of the ships small cabin. Lorsagne laughed at the mounds of food, telling Perette she would grow fat and that it would be the girls fault.All was ready, and Perette summoned two young male servants to load a waiting cart with her mistresss belonging and take them to the docks where strong-backed sailors would convey them to the waiting ship and use stout rope to firmly secure all of Lorsagnes belongings in the tiny cabin Lorsagne had been able to book.Lorsagne and Perette accompanied the porters, with Lorsagne carrying a small package Signora McBain had delivered to her rooms moments before she took her leave. Lorsagne held the package to her chest tightly, inhaling the rich fragrance of the Signoras prized coffee beans freshly roasted and ground fine to permit her the luxury of fresh coffee to revive the bodyand to mask the taste of the ration of brackish water that Lorsagne would be allotted on her trip. Perette carried two small casks of brandy as additional assurance that Lorsagne would be able to use a share of her allotment of fresh water for hygiene instead of being forced to drink water stored in wooden casks and often fouled by slime.In the several minutes it took the small party to reach the docks, Perette and the two porters chatted in the way of young people, their soft laughter breaking the silence of the early hour. Lorsagne was quiet, listening to her own thoughts and memories of Sorrentina and the cry of sea birds taking flight as the sky began to lighten.Perette would stay in Sorrentina; Lorsagne would travel faster alone and she wanted the keen-eyed serving girl to keep an eye on her possessionsand her interestsin her absence. As they made their farewells, Lorsagne slipped a heavy envelope into Perettes hands instructing her not to break the seal and extract the contents unless Lorsagne failed to return within three months time. When the girl attempted to query Lorsagne about the letters contents, she was rebuked with uncharacteristic harshness. Downcast and puzzled, Perette slipped the envelope into her skirt pocket and watched as Lorsagne boarded the skiff that would carry her from the dock to the waiting vessel.Within minutes, Lorsagnes form was swallowed by the early-morning fog and Perette made her way back to her mistresss rooms still stinging from her chastisement, wondering if the letter was a portent of dangers of which she had no knowledge, and resigned that while fair-minded and generous, her mistress would remain as much of a mystery as the implacable small plaster icons of the saints to whom she prayed when she sought favors and forgiveness. +++By the second day at sea, the effects of waters made rough by late-summer heat and strong crosswinds left Lorsagne with little appetite. She kept to her cabin and wrote letters by the hour. Possessed of a fine hand, a keen eye for observing her surroundings and sufficient wit to render her impressionsand her aimswith ease and clarity, Lorsagne enjoyed a wide-ranging and effective correspondence with persons useful to her interests. The developments in Sorrentina would call on all of Losagnes contacts, and Lorsagne used her time at sea to begin the process of securing a place in the world for her godchild. She wrote with few interruptions, and although Perette had managed to secure 30 sheets of parchment, the supply was exhausted by the third day.By the fourth day, Lorsagnes supply of fresh food was also depleted, and as the ship anchored some several hundred feet from the docks of Marseilles, Lorsagne was impatient to disembark, make arrangements for delivery of her correspondence, and secure a coach and four for the long overland journey home. She had one detour to make before she would reach The Haven: the Bastille. It was not a stop she wished to make, but Lorsagne feared the repercussions should she fail to present herself as requested in the letter she had received days before leaving Sorrentina.]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 15 Aug 2014 08:48:25 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Setting sail and a powerful Tarot card reading for the new child - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/575/setting-sail-and-a-powerful-tarot-card-reading-for-the-new-child</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/575</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ Early-morning 11 August, 1784  Sorrentina docks  Lorsagne had no love of the sea, but the need to accomplish her business in both Paris and her home in the Haut-Medoc before returning to Sorrentina for her godchilds christening over-ruled her dislike of cramped, smelly cabins allotted to passengers whose money could buy speed of travel but precious little comfort.  Her belongings already stowed, she stretched herself out on the narrow cot in the tiny cabin and listened to the shouts and calls of the crew as they cast off from the dock of Sorrentina to set sail for France. Their voices made little impression; instead she heard the voice of the islands Tarot reader as she turned over each card for the babys reading.  The Queen of Swords.  Eight of Cups Reversed.  The Emperor.  A powerful trio and Lorsagne shivered as she recalled the card readers growing sense of purpose and wonder as she laid each card on the table.       Each card had carried a message. The Queen of Swords representing the childs birth mother watching over her daughter from heaven. The Cups indicating that the child would face challenges as well as possibilities for deep satisfaction.  Good portents. Yet it was the image of the final card symbolizing the father in the babys life that Lorsagne held in her minds eye. No, M. Gandt would not fill the role of a father in the childs life. That role would be filled by a man of power tempered by wisdom and experience, authority moderated by compassion, learning in the service of all people. This was to be the father figure in the childs life who would provide Lorsagne's godchild with lifelong guidance and advice.  Lorsagne had no doubt that the good Dottore Greymoon and his wife would prove loving and good parents, but the Tarot reading revealed that the baby was destined to live on a larger stage than Sorrentina. As her own godfather Fr. Camara had written her only the last month, Lorsagnes world was drawing to a close; the child could come to her maturity in a new century, a new world.  Lorsagne fell asleep with this thought, the muscles of her face relaxed, quiet. For once, the woman with no name except that of a minor aristocrat prisoner in the Bastille was wholly at peace. ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sun, 10 Aug 2014 21:54:43 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Setting sail and a powerful Tarot card reading for the new child - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/574/setting-sail-and-a-powerful-tarot-card-reading-for-the-new-child</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/574</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ Early-morning 11 August, 1784  Sorrentina docks  Lorsagne had no love of the sea, but the need to accomplish her business in both Paris and her home in the Haut-Medoc before returning to Sorrentina for her godchilds christening over-ruled her dislike of cramped, smelly cabins allotted to passengers whose money could buy speed of travel but precious little comfort.  Her belongings already stowed, she stretched herself out on the narrow cot in the tiny cabin and listened to the shouts and calls of the crew as they cast off from the dock of Sorrentina to set sail for France. Their voices made little impression; instead she heard the voice of the islands Tarot reader as she turned over each card for the babys reading.  The Queen of Swords.  Eight of Cups Reversed.  The Emperor.  A powerful trio and Lorsagne shivered as she recalled the card readers growing sense of purpose and wonder as she laid each card on the table.       Each card had carried a message. The Queen of Swords representing the childs birth mother watching over her daughter from heaven. The Cups indicating that the child would face challenges as well as possibilities for deep satisfaction.  Good portents. Yet it was the image of the final card symbolizing the father in the babys life that Lorsagne held in her minds eye. No, M. Gandt would not fill the role of a father in the childs life. That role would be filled by a man of power tempered by wisdom and experience, authority moderated by compassion, learning in the service of all people. This was to be the father figure in the childs life who would provide Lorsagne's godchild with lifelong guidance and advice.  Lorsagne had no doubt that the good Dottore Greymoon and his wife would prove loving and good parents, but the Tarot reading revealed that the baby was destined to live on a larger stage than Sorrentina. As her own godfather Fr. Camara had written her only the last month, Lorsagnes world was drawing to a close; the child could come to her maturity in a new century, a new world.  Lorsagne fell asleep with this thought, the muscles of her face relaxed, quiet. For once, the woman with no name except that of a minor aristocrat prisoner in the Bastille was wholly at peace. ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sun, 10 Aug 2014 21:54:43 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Mourning jewelry for a baby born during the quarantine - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/569/mourning-jewelry-for-a-baby-born-during-the-quarantine</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/569</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[Her vigil for the expectant mother and her child at an end, Lorsagne barely touches the light supper that she has ordered brought to her rooms. Without a purpose to drive her, she paces the small space, her brow furrowed, her lips set in a thin line that signals her discomfort. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror of the small dressing table provided for her toilette, she stops and appraises the figure before her. Her eyes are dull, her cheeks sallow. Her reflection shows the first signs of aging: she is too fatigued to position her head so the jawline appears as firm as that of a girl.The realization is enough to mobilize her will and she quickly readies herself for sleep that will allow her body time to erase traces of the worries of the week-long quarantine. Yet sleep does not come, so she leaves her bed and busies herself with more correspondence. For Lorsagne, relief comes from doing; in this she is more like a battle-hard soldier than a member of her sex. The 9th day of August, 1784Rocca SorrentinaMy cher Marie-Etienne Nitot,News of your newest Court commissions reached me before I left Bordeaux. While your growing fame is a source of great satisfaction, I confess that my joy for my childhood friend is tempered by my anxiety that you may no longer possess the inclination for those small commissions for jewelry that I am so fond of placing with you.My wrists and neck will never display your creations at Court, but I pray you will continue to help your old friend who counts on the fire and light of precious stones to conceal the fact that her flesh is no longer smooth and bears the marks of time. I fear I am growing old, dear friend and that is death for a vain woman.But to the point. I have a commission I ask you to undertake immediately. A young woman has died this very day giving birth to a daughter. There is no husband and the young woman was estranged from her family. You may know of them, since her father is a goldsmith of some reputation in Roma. Her name was Maria Cecilia Antonacci. If you have knowledge of her family, you must share this information with me, for I am prepared to go to great effort to ensure that they accept the child of their own child.So, you see your old friend is growing soft with the passage of years and distance from Paris. You must not speak of it, for it would do my reputation no service if it were known that I have mellowed and without reputation I stand no chance of seeing Papa ever released from the Bastille.A small locket of the young mothers hair taken from her head moments after her passing by one of the Sisters who attended her during her final hours is enclosed.I have no memento mori of my own mother and am hopeful that a small remembrance of her mother in the form of jewelry may provide the child comfort as she grows to adulthood. The fashion of the day calls for the weaving of the hair into the jewelrya mourning ring or brooch evidently being the current fashion. I have seen suitable pieces of such jewelry that possess both dignity and beauty, yet I would prefer something more ingenious and leave it to you to fashion something that will be both beautiful and of comfort to the child as she grows to maturity. If you still have the pouch of Brazilian diamonds I left for you to use in a case to hold Luciens infernal cigars, perhaps you will feel they are appropriate to use instead in fashioning a piece for the child. Whatever your decisions, do not delay, I will remain in Sorrentina long enough to see the baby settled with a decent family that has come forward should the babys own family choose not to accept her, but I must return to Bordeaux in time for the harvest.A date has not been set for the babys christening, but I will stand as her god-mother and would hope to have the priest bless whatever you fashion with the mark of your atelier to memorialize her mother.Until we meet again, I remainYour childhood friend Lorsagne de Sade]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 08 Aug 2014 22:31:00 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Mourning jewelry for a baby born during the quarantine - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/567/mourning-jewelry-for-a-baby-born-during-the-quarantine</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/567</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[Her vigil for the expectant mother and her child at an end, Lorsagne barely touches the light supper that she has ordered brought to her rooms. Without a purpose to drive her, she paces the small space, her brow furrowed, her lips set in a thin line that signals her discomfort. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror of the small dressing table provided for her toilette, she stops and appraises the figure before her. Her eyes are dull, her cheeks sallow. Her reflection shows the first signs of aging: she is too fatigued to position her head so the jawline appears as firm as that of a girl.The realization is enough to mobilize her will and she quickly readies herself for sleep that will allow her body time to erase traces of the worries of the week-long quarantine. Yet sleep does not come, so she leaves her bed and busies herself with more correspondence. For Lorsagne, relief comes from doing; in this she is more like a battle-hard soldier than a member of her sex. The 9th day of August, 1784Rocca SorrentinaMy cher Marie-Etienne Nitot,News of your newest Court commissions reached me before I left Bordeaux. While your growing fame is a source of great satisfaction, I confess that my joy for my childhood friend is tempered by my anxiety that you may no longer possess the inclination for those small commissions for jewelry that I am so fond of placing with you.My wrists and neck will never display your creations at Court, but I pray you will continue to help your old friend who counts on the fire and light of precious stones to conceal the fact that her flesh is no longer smooth and bears the marks of time. I fear I am growing old, dear friend and that is death for a vain woman.But to the point. I have a commission I ask you to undertake immediately. A young woman has died this very day giving birth to a daughter. There is no husband and the young woman was estranged from her family. You may know of them, since her father is a goldsmith of some reputation in Roma. Her name was Maria Cecilia Antonacci. If you have knowledge of her family, you must share this information with me, for I am prepared to go to great effort to ensure that they accept the child of their own child.So, you see your old friend is growing soft with the passage of years and distance from Paris. You must not speak of it, for it would do my reputation no service if it were known that I have mellowed and without reputation I stand no chance of seeing Papa ever released from the Bastille.A small locket of the young mothers hair taken from her head moments after her passing by one of the Sisters who attended her during her final hours is enclosed.I have no memento mori of my own mother and am hopeful that a small remembrance of her mother in the form of jewelry may provide the child comfort as she grows to adulthood. The fashion of the day calls for the weaving of the hair into the jewelrya mourning ring or brooch evidently being the current fashion. I have seen suitable pieces of such jewelry that possess both dignity and beauty, yet I would prefer something more ingenious and leave it to you to fashion something that will be both beautiful and of comfort to the child as she grows to maturity. If you still have the pouch of Brazilian diamonds I left for you to use in a case to hold Luciens infernal cigars, perhaps you will feel they are appropriate to use instead in fashioning a piece for the child. Whatever your decisions, do not delay, I will remain in Sorrentina long enough to see the baby settled with a decent family that has come forward should the babys own family choose not to accept her, but I must return to Bordeaux in time for the harvest.A date has not been set for the babys christening, but I will stand as her god-mother and would hope to have the priest bless whatever you fashion with the mark of your atelier to memorialize her mother.Until we meet again, I remainYour childhood friend Lorsagne de Sade]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 08 Aug 2014 22:31:00 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne shares news of the quarantine with her absent companion and recounts a theory of the origin of the Fever from the late-1600s ignored by the physicians of Europe - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/563/lorsagne-shares-news-of-the-quarantine-with-her-absent-companion-and-recounts-a-theory-of-the-origin-of-the-fever-from-the-late</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/563</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[The evening of August 7, 1784My dearest Capitane,It is only my worry that you will learn of Sorrentinas difficulties from some careless gossip or the pages of the Gazette de Leyde and the Courrier dAvignon that leads me to disturb your peace with news my own.I remain in Sorrentina, subject as are my traveling companions to the quarantine necessitated by the arrival of a ship carrying the Yellow Fever among its crew.Do not be concerned, for I am well, having taken precautions.As the Magistrates of Sorrentina told us of the outbreak of Fever, my mind presented me with images of you soon after your return from the American War of Independence. It was early-spring and we sat in vineyards, surrounded by newly pruned vines covered with unfurling leaves under the hard light of the Haut-Medoc, the sun warming your face cradled in my lap, your legs outstretched and your eyes drowsy with the effects of new wine. As you passed into sleep you described meetings between the Marquis de Lafayette and the American military leaders where you presented your calculation of the British losses during the 1780 summer campaigns against Revolutionary forces in Georgia, Florida and Carolina and concluded that Sir Henry Clintons siege of Charleston during the sickly months would ultimately prove the Britishs undoing.Soon after your return from Yorktown, the Marquis conveyed an accounting of his debt to you for your analysis, confirming that Lord Cornwallis confessed that saving his army from another Carolina fever season led him to move north to Virginia as you predicted he wouldand there meet defeat in Yorktown where the American troops waited to engage him.But enough of my proof to you of my attention to your battle tales! I also remembered the counsel Fr. Camara imparted to you as you prepared to depart for the Americas. Do you remember the pages he copied from a faded manuscript in the Societys possession and gave to you to carry to America? The author was known to Jesuits in Mexico and New Spain many years prior to the Suppression, a Jos de Patricio de los Ros who believed the Fever originated in tiny insects coming from lagoons.Thanks be to God for godfathers scholarship, for like you, I heeded the wisdom of de los Rios and covered my skin and used my hand fan to keep air circulating about my person whenever I was about in Sorrentina. My wrists grew tired, but the mosquitos near the fountain in the plaza found no landing spot on my person.Of the 500 souls of Sorrentina there have been few taken with the Fever, and I have no doubt that is due to the efficiency of the Magistrates and the cooperation of the citizens. Two doctors and nursing sisters from the mainland have cared for the sick and the well, exposing themselves to the disease with the confidence of those who know they do Gods work and trust in his protection. They have been spared.One young womana traveler from Romawas less fortunate. As I write you late in the evening from the cool of my borrowed apartment, she remains in the Lazaretto, fighting for her own life and that of her child that is coming.She has no husband. She is estranged from her family. I am moved by her plight and the similarity to that of my own mother. I pray you will understand that it is this young woman who keeps me in Sorrentina. I will not leave until her child is born and settled with a family who will give it a name and the security of a home other than that of an orphanage. I have written to the young woman offering to provide the necessary funds to sponsor the child, provide for its financial support and stand as its godmother.Pray that the child and mother live and that my offer is accepted, and know that I do not sleep without thoughts of our reunion to comfort me.Your Lorsagne]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 07 Aug 2014 22:07:55 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne nails a letter to the door of the Lazaretto. It is addressed to the young woman who arrived from Roma - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/561/lorsagne-nails-a-letter-to-the-door-of-the-lazaretto-it-is-addressed-to-the-young-woman-who-arrived-from-roma</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/561</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[7 August, 1784My dear SignorinaAntonacci,Although a creature of few tender emotions, I can scarce contain my anguish as I consider the peril of your situation and that of the child you carry. I sit in the comfort of rooms made available by kind souls of Sorrentina to travelers whose journeys have been interrupted by the quarantine and think of you in your sickbed far from your home and the comfort of those who would not wish to see you face this peril alone. Yes, you are currently estranged from your family but the gravity of your illness bids that I send word to your parents in hopes you and they will be reconciled while you still have life. I have sent word to them via the revenue ship that sailed this very day and pray you will forgive my intrusion.I pray you will also forgive my impertinence in coming forward with an offer to sponsor your child in whatever manner proves most advantageous to that child. I am an orphan, and you could be the spirit of my own mother returned to earth so I could witness the depth of a mothers love as she willingly exchanges her life for her childs in the ordeal of birth. I pray that is not your fate, but you are gravely ill and if God takes you, I offer myself as god-mother and sponsor of the child. I cannot offer your child a home, but I can provide sufficient funds and property to secure a safe and loving home for your child so he or she will never face the shame and isolation of the orphanage.There are others in Sorrentina also willing to offer assistance. You find yourself in a strange land, yet you are no stranger in our midst. Take strength from knowing that you and your child are a blessing for many.May God spare your life and that of your child and take comfort that whatever God wills for your life, your child will not face life alone.Lorsagne de Sade]]></description>
                <pubDate>Wed, 06 Aug 2014 22:25:21 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Quarantine in Sorrentina - a letter to her godfather Fr. Jose Eusebio-Camara, SJ concerning an unborn child - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/560/quarantine-in-sorrentina-a-letter-to-her-godfather-fr-jose-eusebio-camara-sj-concerning-an-unborn-child</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/560</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 6 August, Anno 1784  My dearest godfather and confessor,  I continue to be detained in Sorrentina as the yellow fever has come to the island, and all here are under quarantine. The authorities have taken measures to contain the sickness and physicians have tended both the sick and the well with courtesy and efficiency. I was given permission to leave after being examined, but have chosen to stay, missing our planned reunion in Venice within in the coming week.  Our visits are precious to me, yet I feel in my heart you will understand why I have chosen to remain in Sorrentina.  A young woman visiting the island has contracted the fever. I fear she will die very soon which is, of course, a sadness. That this young woman is great with child makes her death doubly painful, especially to an orphan who imagines the cries of the unborn child who will never know its mothers touch and devotion.  The young woman has no husband and no male has stepped forward and claim the child as his own. The woman confronted a gentleman here, a M. Gandt whom she believes to be her childs father, but he denies all knowledge of the woman. After writing M. Gandt in an attempt to persuade him to assume his responsibilities I am inclined to believe the young woman is mistaken. He does not appear to be deceiving when he says he cannot be the father.  So, dearest godfather, after prayers to St. Anne and to your beloved Ignatius of Loyola, I have discerned that God is directing me to give to this child the gift you gave to me at the time of my birth. When my dying mother laid me as an infant in your arms and asked you to oversee my immortal soul as godfather, you did not turn away. I will not turn away from this infant child should it live to be born. I will not leave Sorrentina until I see the baby has a name and a future beyond that of bastard orphan in a convent. I do not wish my own past on this child.  I pray you are safe and that you will forgive my absence. I remain your affectionate and grateful  Lorsagne     <br>   ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Wed, 06 Aug 2014 08:32:17 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne shares news of the quarantine with her absent companion and recounts a theory of the origin of the Fever from the late-1600s ignored by the physicians of Europe - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/559/lorsagne-shares-news-of-the-quarantine-with-her-absent-companion-and-recounts-a-theory-of-the-origin-of-the-fever-from-the-late</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/559</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[The evening of August 7, 1784My dearest Capitane,It is only my worry that you will learn of Sorrentinas difficulties from some careless gossip or the pages of the Gazette de Leyde and the Courrier dAvignon that leads me to disturb your peace with news my own.I remain in Sorrentina, subject as are my traveling companions to the quarantine necessitated by the arrival of a ship carrying the Yellow Fever among its crew.Do not be concerned, for I am well, having taken precautions.As the Magistrates of Sorrentina told us of the outbreak of Fever, my mind presented me with images of you soon after your return from the American War of Independence. It was early-spring and we sat in vineyards, surrounded by newly pruned vines covered with unfurling leaves under the hard light of the Haut-Medoc, the sun warming your face cradled in my lap, your legs outstretched and your eyes drowsy with the effects of new wine. As you passed into sleep you described meetings between the Marquis de Lafayette and the American military leaders where you presented your calculation of the British losses during the 1780 summer campaigns against Revolutionary forces in Georgia, Florida and Carolina and concluded that Sir Henry Clintons siege of Charleston during the sickly months would ultimately prove the Britishs undoing.Soon after your return from Yorktown, the Marquis conveyed an accounting of his debt to you for your analysis, confirming that Lord Cornwallis confessed that saving his army from another Carolina fever season led him to move north to Virginia as you predicted he wouldand there meet defeat in Yorktown where the American troops waited to engage him.But enough of my proof to you of my attention to your battle tales! I also remembered the counsel Fr. Camara imparted to you as you prepared to depart for the Americas. Do you remember the pages he copied from a faded manuscript in the Societys possession and gave to you to carry to America? The author was known to Jesuits in Mexico and New Spain many years prior to the Suppression, a Jos de Patricio de los Ros who believed the Fever originated in tiny insects coming from lagoons.Thanks be to God for godfathers scholarship, for like you, I heeded the wisdom of de los Rios and covered my skin and used my hand fan to keep air circulating about my person whenever I was about in Sorrentina. My wrists grew tired, but the mosquitos near the fountain in the plaza found no landing spot on my person.Of the 500 souls of Sorrentina there have been few taken with the Fever, and I have no doubt that is due to the efficiency of the Magistrates and the cooperation of the citizens. Two doctors and nursing sisters from the mainland have cared for the sick and the well, exposing themselves to the disease with the confidence of those who know they do Gods work and trust in his protection. They have been spared.One young womana traveler from Romawas less fortunate. As I write you late in the evening from the cool of my borrowed apartment, she remains in the Lazaretto, fighting for her own life and that of her child that is coming.She has no husband. She is estranged from her family. I am moved by her plight and the similarity to that of my own mother. I pray you will understand that it is this young woman who keeps me in Sorrentina. I will not leave until her child is born and settled with a family who will give it a name and the security of a home other than that of an orphanage. I have written to the young woman offering to provide the necessary funds to sponsor the child, provide for its financial support and stand as its godmother.Pray that the child and mother live and that my offer is accepted, and know that I do not sleep without thoughts of our reunion to comfort me.Your Lorsagne]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 07 Aug 2014 22:07:55 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne nails a letter to the door of the Lazaretto. It is addressed to the young woman who arrived from Roma - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/557/lorsagne-nails-a-letter-to-the-door-of-the-lazaretto-it-is-addressed-to-the-young-woman-who-arrived-from-roma</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/557</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[7 August, 1784My dear SignorinaAntonacci,Although a creature of few tender emotions, I can scarce contain my anguish as I consider the peril of your situation and that of the child you carry. I sit in the comfort of rooms made available by kind souls of Sorrentina to travelers whose journeys have been interrupted by the quarantine and think of you in your sickbed far from your home and the comfort of those who would not wish to see you face this peril alone. Yes, you are currently estranged from your family but the gravity of your illness bids that I send word to your parents in hopes you and they will be reconciled while you still have life. I have sent word to them via the revenue ship that sailed this very day and pray you will forgive my intrusion.I pray you will also forgive my impertinence in coming forward with an offer to sponsor your child in whatever manner proves most advantageous to that child. I am an orphan, and you could be the spirit of my own mother returned to earth so I could witness the depth of a mothers love as she willingly exchanges her life for her childs in the ordeal of birth. I pray that is not your fate, but you are gravely ill and if God takes you, I offer myself as god-mother and sponsor of the child. I cannot offer your child a home, but I can provide sufficient funds and property to secure a safe and loving home for your child so he or she will never face the shame and isolation of the orphanage.There are others in Sorrentina also willing to offer assistance. You find yourself in a strange land, yet you are no stranger in our midst. Take strength from knowing that you and your child are a blessing for many.May God spare your life and that of your child and take comfort that whatever God wills for your life, your child will not face life alone.Lorsagne de Sade]]></description>
                <pubDate>Wed, 06 Aug 2014 22:25:21 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Quarantine in Sorrentina - a letter to her godfather Fr. Jose Eusebio-Camara, SJ concerning an unborn child - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/556/quarantine-in-sorrentina-a-letter-to-her-godfather-fr-jose-eusebio-camara-sj-concerning-an-unborn-child</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/556</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 6 August, Anno 1784  My dearest godfather and confessor,  I continue to be detained in Sorrentina as the yellow fever has come to the island, and all here are under quarantine. The authorities have taken measures to contain the sickness and physicians have tended both the sick and the well with courtesy and efficiency. I was given permission to leave after being examined, but have chosen to stay, missing our planned reunion in Venice within in the coming week.  Our visits are precious to me, yet I feel in my heart you will understand why I have chosen to remain in Sorrentina.  A young woman visiting the island has contracted the fever. I fear she will die very soon which is, of course, a sadness. That this young woman is great with child makes her death doubly painful, especially to an orphan who imagines the cries of the unborn child who will never know its mothers touch and devotion.  The young woman has no husband and no male has stepped forward and claim the child as his own. The woman confronted a gentleman here, a M. Gandt whom she believes to be her childs father, but he denies all knowledge of the woman. After writing M. Gandt in an attempt to persuade him to assume his responsibilities I am inclined to believe the young woman is mistaken. He does not appear to be deceiving when he says he cannot be the father.  So, dearest godfather, after prayers to St. Anne and to your beloved Ignatius of Loyola, I have discerned that God is directing me to give to this child the gift you gave to me at the time of my birth. When my dying mother laid me as an infant in your arms and asked you to oversee my immortal soul as godfather, you did not turn away. I will not turn away from this infant child should it live to be born. I will not leave Sorrentina until I see the baby has a name and a future beyond that of bastard orphan in a convent. I do not wish my own past on this child.  I pray you are safe and that you will forgive my absence. I remain your affectionate and grateful  Lorsagne     <br>   ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Wed, 06 Aug 2014 08:32:17 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Quarantine in Sorrentina - a proposal to M. Gandt for the well-being of his unborn child - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/555/quarantine-in-sorrentina-a-proposal-to-m-gandt-for-the-well-being-of-his-unborn-child</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/555</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 5 th  day of August 1784  My dear Monsieur Gandt,  As one who finds herself inconvenienced and possibly imperiled by the fever that has come to this fair island and whose close proximity with others who also are subject to the quarantine of the Magistrate, I have been made privy to matters normally unobserved and unrecorded. Specifically, I have had occasion to observe your actions and your demeanor these past days and am writing to address matters of grave importance based on what I have observed.  There is no time for either pretty words or gentle remonstrance. Sir, you are behaving very much like a man who would evade his responsibilities to the unborn consequence of past indiscretions. You are soon to have a child. I have no doubt of its paternity as I, too, witnessed your meeting with the childs mother. She is no conniving strumpet. She is undone. Her sole purpose in humbling herself at your feet, subjecting her soul to your scorn, is the love of a mother for the child she carries and her fear for that childs future.  The fever will claim the mother; of this I have no doubt. Will you also see your child die? Perhaps not of the fever, but what future will such a child face? To be grudgingly allowed sustenance and space in an orphanage run by Sisters for whom Charity is most often lacking? To be a bastard, forever denied a place in decent society?  Sir, I know whereof I speak. I am the natural child of two members of the French nobility. But my parents were not allowed to wed. My mother died giving me life. My father was told I had perished as well, and the grief perhaps contributed to a life of infamy that now keeps him a prisoner in the Bastille under the seal of a letter de cachet.  A bastard orphan I was given to the nuns. Save for the intervention of the Jesuit priest who attended my birth and has watched over me as god-father and protector, I would have suffered a fate that you, sir, cannot even imagine at the hands of women whose piety does not see God in the face of every child, no matter the circumstances surrounding its birth.  Is this the fate you wish for your child? A bold and impertinent question from a mere woman, but I will press you in this matter and make you an offer you would do well to consider.  If you acknowledge the child as your own and give it your name, I am prepared to accept all financial responsibility for the child until it is fully-grown and successfully launched in whatever capacity the child chooses according to his or her natural inclinations and talents. I have sufficient wealth and connections with men of position in France to ensure good beginnings for a child of either sex. For your part in this arrangement, you will have the responsibility to provide a home and the security of parental affection and guidance for the child, knowing that I have agents who will report to me should you fail in any aspect of your duty.  Consider my offer proposal carefully, Sir. I am patient, but I will not stand by and see yet another child left at the door of strangers.  I await your decision,  Lorsagne de Sade      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Tue, 05 Aug 2014 11:38:24 -0700</pubDate>
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                <title><![CDATA[Quarantine in Sorrentina - a proposal to M. Gandt for the well-being of his unborn child - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/554/quarantine-in-sorrentina-a-proposal-to-m-gandt-for-the-well-being-of-his-unborn-child</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/554</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 5 th  day of August 1784  My dear Monsieur Gandt,  As one who finds herself inconvenienced and possibly imperiled by the fever that has come to this fair island and whose close proximity with others who also are subject to the quarantine of the Magistrate, I have been made privy to matters normally unobserved and unrecorded. Specifically, I have had occasion to observe your actions and your demeanor these past days and am writing to address matters of grave importance based on what I have observed.  There is no time for either pretty words or gentle remonstrance. Sir, you are behaving very much like a man who would evade his responsibilities to the unborn consequence of past indiscretions. You are soon to have a child. I have no doubt of its paternity as I, too, witnessed your meeting with the childs mother. She is no conniving strumpet. She is undone. Her sole purpose in humbling herself at your feet, subjecting her soul to your scorn, is the love of a mother for the child she carries and her fear for that childs future.  The fever will claim the mother; of this I have no doubt. Will you also see your child die? Perhaps not of the fever, but what future will such a child face? To be grudgingly allowed sustenance and space in an orphanage run by Sisters for whom Charity is most often lacking? To be a bastard, forever denied a place in decent society?  Sir, I know whereof I speak. I am the natural child of two members of the French nobility. But my parents were not allowed to wed. My mother died giving me life. My father was told I had perished as well, and the grief perhaps contributed to a life of infamy that now keeps him a prisoner in the Bastille under the seal of a letter de cachet.  A bastard orphan I was given to the nuns. Save for the intervention of the Jesuit priest who attended my birth and has watched over me as god-father and protector, I would have suffered a fate that you, sir, cannot even imagine at the hands of women whose piety does not see God in the face of every child, no matter the circumstances surrounding its birth.  Is this the fate you wish for your child? A bold and impertinent question from a mere woman, but I will press you in this matter and make you an offer you would do well to consider.  If you acknowledge the child as your own and give it your name, I am prepared to accept all financial responsibility for the child until it is fully-grown and successfully launched in whatever capacity the child chooses according to his or her natural inclinations and talents. I have sufficient wealth and connections with men of position in France to ensure good beginnings for a child of either sex. For your part in this arrangement, you will have the responsibility to provide a home and the security of parental affection and guidance for the child, knowing that I have agents who will report to me should you fail in any aspect of your duty.  Consider my offer proposal carefully, Sir. I am patient, but I will not stand by and see yet another child left at the door of strangers.  I await your decision,  Lorsagne de Sade      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Tue, 05 Aug 2014 11:38:24 -0700</pubDate>
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                <title><![CDATA[Finding Fanny's letter with news of a "Lord Ian" Lorsagne acts quickly to warn Fr. Camara, leaving a letter for the disguised Jesuit in the small chapel near the harbor - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/69/finding-fannys-letter-with-news-of-a-lord-ian-lorsagne-acts-quickly-to-warn-fr-camara-leaving-a-letter-for-the-disguised-je</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/69</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[   18 May 1785      Rocca Sorrentina    Godfather, I write in haste to warn you that one of Calonnes men calling himself Lord Ian has presented himself at The Haven on the pretext of leaving a painting for my inspection and consideration.  I assure you that Fanny knows nothing of his real purpose or his identity, so there is little chance that she revealed any news of your whereabouts or even your existence. Still, I have the gravest of concerns. He has said he would return, knowingI am certain--that Fanny would convey that message without awareness of the threat behind it. She lives in her own world and takes little notice of ours--that is to our advantage and the protection of all who seek shelter at the Haven.     You must not attempt passage to France! Yours and Luciens rooms are ready for you here; it would give your godchild a peace beyond any she has known in the past two years to know that you will remain in Rocca Sorrentina until the danger is dealt with by our friends in Marseilles. I have already sent them news of this Lord Ians appearance, as well as the most generous of donations to ensure their attention to our needs.  A fast packet ship scheduled to leave Rocca Sorrentina this day will carry my instructions to Pieter to increase the safeguards at the catacombs entrance. For the rest, I will endeavor to trust in our God who you continue to serve with such serenity and with whom I confess I continue to struggle.  Godfather, there is much here in this pleasant island to give you comfort and ease, as well as stimulation your intellect craves, so I beg you as humbly as I am able to remain here.  Your godchild,  Lorsagne ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Mon, 18 May 2015 00:47:17 -0700</pubDate>
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                <title><![CDATA[Furnishing Lucien and Fr. Camara's Rocca Sorrentina apartment - Tigers in the Salon - Rugs Tell a Tale - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/68/furnishing-lucien-and-fr-camaras-rocca-sorrentina-apartment-tigers-in-the-salon-rugs-tell-a-tale</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/68</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[      Prior to the Popes formal suppression of the Society of Jesus in 1773, Lorsagnes godfather Jos-Eusebio Camara, SJ functioned as a Jesuit procurator, those members of the society who represented the orders interests to the outside world, administered its properties and maintained its network. After the orders suppression, Fr. Camara and others both within and without the order went about rendering this service quietly, faithfully and often at great risk to their lives.  Lorsagne has used a few of the orders salvaged possessions that hold sentimental value for her godfather in the apartment in Rocca Sorrentina. Foremost among those souvenirs is a tiger skin. Given to the Jesuit by a Moghul viceroy in Hyderabad when Fr. Camara was in India, the skin stands as a symbol of the Hindu god Shivas role as controller of all powers in the world.  A gift of a tiger skin was a compliment of the highest order. Lorsagne uses the hide to dress a corner of the upstairs, placing it on the floor in hopes that her godfather will not take to wearing it andhis plague doctors disguise simultaneously.  The other end of the room is anchored by another sort of tiger skin: an early-18 th  century Colonial American hooked rug presented to her companion Lucien Aristide de Robion-Castellane near Yorktown while he was serving as a Lieutenant in a Hussard squadron of the "Legion de Lauzun." Lucien's squadron played a role in deciding the Yorktown campaign in 1781. The pattern of tiger stripes in the hooked wool rug has the same meaning as the hide: courage and strengthcharacteristics of both Camara and Robion-Castellane. ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sun, 17 May 2015 19:26:44 -0700</pubDate>
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                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne confides in Fanny Burney before leaving Lucien and her godfather's new apartment to attend Mrs. Piozzi's soiree - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/65/lorsagne-confides-in-fanny-burney-before-leaving-lucien-and-her-godfathers-new-apartment-to-attend-mrs-piozzis-soiree</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/65</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ Rocca Sorrentina  14 May 1785  Dearest Fanny,  The scent of the sea breezes and the blue of the Mediterranean sky bring me warmth as I rest from my labors furnishing the new apartments on the island in order to deliver greetings to you from Mrs. Piozzi and her delightful husband Signor Piozzi.     That good lady has asked me to provide entertainment this very day for a gathering of notables in her delightful residence here on the island. I am flattered, for the lady has many in her acquaintance with far greater talents and of wider knowledge of the world than your simple friend. However, I shall endeavor to acquit myself favorably, for I do so wish to be included in her circle.  I had hoped Lucien would accompany me to this evenings soiree, but he is nowhere to be found. Only his infernal maps give evidence that he has even visited his new pied a Terre that I have labored longand with some success I believeto furnish for his and godfathers comfort, as well as their shelter.   When I arrived at the apartment after meeting with yet another draper who wishes to win my trade, the beautiful map of Paris drawn in the year 1600 that I brought from The Haven had been put away. Yet another map showing troop placements during the siege of Yorktown in the new United States had taken its place on Luciens chart table.       Yorktown! Why does it continue to haunt Luciens dreams and disturb his ease? Luciens company of Hussars with Lafayette and de Rochambeau's decisions as his commanders made no small contribution to the victory, yet Lucien takes no satisfaction in victory. I confide to you that on his return I hardly knew him so changed was he in his opinions and his outlook. He now has my fear for his soul, as well as my heart, so I will put my own impatience aside and strive to forbear his moods and his absence.  Still, Lorsagne as the patient Griselda? I think not! Only a man would flatter himself so. Foolish creatures. Perhaps my motives in the choice of decoration for the walls in  repaire masculin  I have furnished for Lucien and godfather will not be lost on at least one of those good gentlemen.     I close now to make my toilette for todays gathering at Mrs. Ps.  As ever, your devoted friend,  Lorsagne ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 14 May 2015 09:56:04 -0700</pubDate>
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                <title><![CDATA[Arriving in Rocca Sorrentina, Lorsagne writes to Fanny Burney, reporting on Mrs. Piozzi's recovery and her "great good friend" Lucien's criticism of her extravagance - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/64/arriving-in-rocca-sorrentina-lorsagne-writes-to-fanny-burney-reporting-on-mrs-piozzis-recovery-and-her-great-good-friend-l</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/64</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[  April of 1785    Rocca Sorrentina   Dearest Fanny,  I write you in haste having only arrived in Rocca Sorrentina the previous day. As you can imagine, I find myself as yet unsettled. Oh, that I could make the journey from The Haven to this lovely island as does a bird, with wings instead of bouncing over waters that invariably roil up to torment my constitution or find my spine jarred by the ruts and rocks as I ride trapped inside a coach that invariably loses at least one wheel in the journey.  Yet, as always, the islands beauty and the company of its residents compensate for these inconveniences.  Since my arrival, I have seen your friend Mrs. Piozzi briefly. She is pale, yet I note that she projects serenity even in her time of loss. I judge her to be a woman great inner strength and look forward to developing cordial relations both with the lady and her husband. I have yet to meet the noted singer, but from the expression on Mrs. Ps face when she speaks of him, he is most obviously the master of her heart, the source of her comfort, and the companion of her intellect.  Capitaine Lucien de Robion-Castellane would do well to emulate the gentleman. I must confide in you that I find myself quite put out with Lucien. He has just arrived on the island on leave from his responsibilities to the Marquis de Lafayette. After the briefest of greetings after a long absence he has commenced to tell me that the costs of furnishings that I have purchased or commissioned for the apartments he and godfather are to share in Rocca Sorrentina are intemperate! Excessive! Immodest!       I assure you I have purchased only the barest of essentials and have exercised admirable frugality. I cannot be faulted. No, and I have not put my hand into the Captains purse for even the smallest of domestic expenses.  Men! They want us to make them homes of beauty, taste, comfort and a certain degree of luxury without expense. They want us to maintain our faces, our figures, and our wardrobes to the standards of the latest court fashions. And they expect us to do it all on a paupers purse. I would ask godfather to intercede, yet my intuition tells me I will not have an ally in the Jesuit in this matter.  That godfather and Lucien will be sharing quarters is both a delight and a something of a worry to me. I can manage each of them to my advantage when they are separated by time and distance. I suspect they will join forces in an attempt to reign in their charge once they are living under the same roof.  You are wise to avoid romantic entanglements, dear Fanny. A papa that holds you tightly is enough of a restriction to your freedom!  Until I can return to enjoy the pleasures your company and my duties at my beloved Haven,  Lorsagne ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Tue, 05 May 2015 18:09:01 -0700</pubDate>
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                <title><![CDATA[Lorsagne writes her Godfather with news from The Haven - @lorsagne-de-sade]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/58/lorsagne-writes-her-godfather-with-news-from-the-haven</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/lorsagne-de-sade/blog/58</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[25 April 1785The HavenDearest God-father,The post rider from Bordeaux has brought me tidings from both you and Lucien, for which I am most delighted and grateful. I confess I have put Luciens packet aside so I may conspire with you to make certain arrangements for the apartments you and he will share in Rocca Sorrentina when Lucien is able to travel to that lovely island as his responsibilities to the Marquis permit and you are able to slip onto the island unobserved by those you of necessity elude.If all goes well, a ship of our agent in Marseilles will dock in Sorrentina within a fortnight. I trust you will both approve and enjoy the paintings I have chosen from the collection here, as well as household objects I know you to hold dear by virtue of the memories they hold for you.The fine craftsmen and shopkeepers of Sorrentina will be a source for good seating and tables and a small number of fine musical instruments are being delivered from the mainland for your pleasure and for those small entertainments I hope you and Lucien will host when you are in residence.Know that I will continue to send you things to fill up your pied a Terre with things I know you to hold dear. As for the books you have asked for, I will bring those myself, since they are too precious to send unaccompanied.Finally, do not chide me, godfather, for extravagance in the selection of comestibles that will soon arrive to fill your larders. I cannot be with you to preside over your table, so I send youand our dear Lucienan abundance of pleasures of the table to savor to remind you both of your Lorsagne.As for news from the estate, I write you as I sit on the small terrace next to the vineyard planted with the new vines you helped select after the disastrous harvest of two years ago. The roots have found good footing and are putting out the their first real vines which the workers are tying up under the watchful eye of the vigneron who marches up and down the rows like a bandy rooster taking the measure of his hens.I confess that Fanny and I share some of the vignerons zeal: to see the Havens wines fetch the prices of our neighbors would give us the greatest of satisfactions! I tease her that the business of making wine cannot be nearly so difficult as that of transforming words into books, but she assures me both activities are more alchemy than rote and watching her labor on her manuscripts I am inclined to believe her. My foolish letters to you are labors of love; for Fanny Burney, her words are the expression of her ambition and her need to provide for herself. She is quite remarkable and these months of enjoying her company in this quiet place have given me great joy and comfort in yours and Luciens absence.Until we next meet, Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut.Lorsagne]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 24 Apr 2015 23:13:38 -0700</pubDate>
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