I intend to keep posting new entries to my blog with some regularity, so I was not entirely happy to have been unable to update it at all since last Saturday. In fact, this is because I have been rather busy. I’ve only been online since then on Monday and Wednesday, and while I had some time on Monday, on Wednesday it was hardly an hour. I was busy enough just checking my email and a variety of websites. My defence done, I’ll tell you a little about the amazing adventures of the past time.
Ironically, I was also unable to post this on my blog the day I wrote it (Thursday). So all references to yesterday refer to the day before yesterday, etc.
Yesterday there was a lecture by the Limburg branch of the Netherlands-England society in Hotel l’Empereur (in the Marie-Louise hall of which they have three – I thought this rather ironic, as if Napoleon had married three of them. Nevertheless, it probably would have been worse if they named the halls after the various mistresses and wives Napoleon had – Marie-Louise would have disliked that even more) The lecture was by British retired historian John Sutton, of Cambridge Uni. His speech was about the private life of Bonny Prince Charlie, particularly the affair he had with his married cousin Marie-Louise de la Tour, and how this affected his life.
The speech was held with great eloquence, and mostly without reference papers, apart from copies of some of the love letters between Charles and Marie-Louise, which John Sutton and his wife read out. There was a lot of humour in the story, as well as tragedy, and it made for a great evening. He began with asking the public what they knew of Charles. Normally I like listening to the strange and incorrect presumptions of other people, but as nobody dared speak I raised my hand and gave a brief run-down of Charles’ two years of fame – invaded Scotland, rallied the Highland clansmen, invaded England, turned around, beaten at Culloden, fled the country. Sutton was quite amazed, as was the audience, as apparently normally even in the UK people don’t know that much about him. Afterwards lots of people asked me whether I read a lot about the Jacobites, but truth be told, I haven’t read a single dedicated book on them. I just happen to remember things rather easily, and as I have read a lot about the Eighteenth Century, I’ve come across references to him regularly enough. If I had read up about the Jacobites, I would’ve known more facts, like that Charles had a younger brother (Henry Benedict) who became a cardinal and was the last Jacobite claimant to die. I suppose general history knowledge is not really widespread in our society, that one can suddenly be viewed as Jacobite expert without real reason.
I learned a great deal of interesting things. The two things that stood out most were Charles’ love letters and his vanity.
While Marie-Louise’s letters were passionate and very pleading, Charles’ went something along the lines of this:
“I have received your letter.
I found it very disagreeable.
I will be at the rendezvous at the agreed time.
Perhaps it will be the last time I’ll bother visiting you.
Adieu.”
It was simply absurd – perhaps one commands soldiers like this, but if he really was in love with her (and all points to this being the case) you would’ve expected some compassion.
As to his vanity, Charles Edward made frequent visits to the Paris opera because, after his return from the UK, he had become something of a celebrity. He was wildly popular, and whenever he was at the opera people would applaud and cheer him. However, in 1748, following the Peace of Aachen, which ended the War of the Austrian Succession, Louis XV was expected to throw out Charles. Charles heard of this and barricaded himself in his house. This would have been fine, if it had not been for his vanity – Charles still went to the Opera, and one night, hardly surprising, five French sergeants waited for him, tied him up with silk rope and carried him off, to deport him. What a beginner’s mistake!
Earlier on, during his passionate affair with Marie-Louise, he had been paying visits to her Paris house in the middle of the night. A mysterious person travelling from the suburbs to the centre of town at about 3:00 in the morning being unusual, the city guards were quickly suspicious. They alarmed the government, who suspected it might be a spy or assassin – out to kill prince Charles! They did the only feasible thing: place guards around his house to protect him.
However, this frustrated his plans to visit Marie-Louise, and he then played a sort of spy-game. Parking his coach at unexpected places, he would take unknown routes, often through houses, to get to it, shaking off the city guards in pursuit. Alternatively, he could’ve just told the French he was the suspected assassin, and he therefore needed no protection. Ah well. Games are games.
I need only end this on the sad note that Charles became a serious drunkard, rather confused in the head, and died a very miserable death in Italy.
Now it’s time for the real story you have all been waiting for. I can already hear the impatient cries: “Kor, Kor! When will we hear about the passing mice?” I now have a confession to make: there actually was only one passing mouse (like there was only one bonny prince). But I shall tell you anyway.
“Hurrah!”
A few weeks ago I was cycling on the Tongerseweg, basically where it crosses the Albertcanal to Vroenhoven. This is a very busy road, with cycling strips and houses on either side. I was cycling north, in the direction of Maastricht, when I noticed a number of grey leaves on the cycling strip. When I looked closely, as I passed them, I noticed that one of them was not a leaf but a tiny tiny field mouse. It hurried along its way, but rather than just walking on all fours, it sort of jumped. Very small leaps, of course, but it looked a bit odd. What was even odder was that it was walking towards the road.
I looked on in horror as the mouse was approaching the lane where two cars were speeding towards it. The mouse stopped in time, and waited until they were past. Then it hopped on to the middle of the road, where it was of course relatively safe. Now two cars were approaching from the other direction, but the mouse saw them coming and stopped. The cars passed mere centimetres from the tiny creature, but to my amazement, it had not been sucked up by the speed of the cars and sucked into their wheels. It still sat there on the asphalt! Now the road was clear again, it quietly hopped over to the other side.
Mice are so clever. They don’t even need traffic lights like us eejit humans.
22.4.06
I have returned
Now the traditional four and a half months of mourning for Charles have passed, I can once again post on my blog to spread my messages of great wisdom and insight. Today's issue is the top five of how to annoy Europeans.
How to annoy Europeans
5. Pretend you're a suicide bomber on one of our trains
Seriously, we don't like that at all.
4. Watch the Eurovision Song Contest, then try to have a discussion on which song was best
All the songs need to be destroyed (how you destroy a song, however, is beyond me, but surely the smart folks at NASA have thought something up?) and are not worthy of intelligent conversation, except perhaps about which one should be destroyed first. Apparently the show also gets transmitted on other continents. I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to all non-Europeans for possibly having been a victim of this terrible excuse of a song show. Sorry.
3. Be a suicide bomber on one of our trains
We don't like this at all, either.
2. Tell other people you think the EU is a great institution
For years now, the European Union is a shunned and unpopular institution. People who do like it best remain silent about it in the presence of Europeans - that way it can't get out and sully their reputation. The British are opposed to it because it's run by the French and Germans, the French are opposed to it because it's mostly in English, the Germans dislike it because of the Euro, the Dutch dislike it because they now discovered they really aren't the centre of the EU after all, the eastern Europeans dislike it because they discovered it wasn't as exclusive and fun as they thought (much like a child buying a toy and then finding out it's not all it's hyped up to be). If the EU is discussed, it's wise to join in the "Eurocrats" and "Bloody Euro" subjects. Those always go well on parties.
1. Be from another continent yet claim you have a European nationality
No offense to other continents, but if people are from another continent, they're generally not European. This is particularly present in people from North America - Irish and Scottish being the traditional victims of these people's false nationalistic feelings, though every nation is in some way victimised.
It is quite remarkable to see people abroad think they're Irish just because they donate to the IRA or because their ancestors came from Ireland a century ago - surely, although one's ancestors are Irish, that doesn't mean someone a century later, who's never lived in Ireland for even a year, can claim Irish nationality? One might observe that, if anything, they're American.
The strangest thing about it all is the huge amount of national tradition these groups carry on, which tend to have nothing in common with the actual country they claim they're from. Take for example the Highland Games, which apparently is a feast day in North America - you won't find it in the same shape or form back in Scotland. The Saint Patrick's Day celebrations are also rather different in Ireland, and to claim that Halloween is based on the Irish Samhain is curious - although they happen on the same day, now they have so little in common Halloween might as well descend from the old Italian custom of dressing in a toga at a party. Or, basically, all the time.
Those old Italians certainly liked their togas.
So, if you go to Europe and have a distinct American accent (and please please please, don't try to imitate a Scottish or Irish accent) never ever ever say "Wow, that's cool, I'm Irish/Scottish/German/Dutch/Belgian/European, too! Let's talk about our common ancestry while I try and find the real authentic coat of arms of my undoubtedly noble family!"
How to annoy Europeans
5. Pretend you're a suicide bomber on one of our trains
Seriously, we don't like that at all.
4. Watch the Eurovision Song Contest, then try to have a discussion on which song was best
All the songs need to be destroyed (how you destroy a song, however, is beyond me, but surely the smart folks at NASA have thought something up?) and are not worthy of intelligent conversation, except perhaps about which one should be destroyed first. Apparently the show also gets transmitted on other continents. I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to all non-Europeans for possibly having been a victim of this terrible excuse of a song show. Sorry.
3. Be a suicide bomber on one of our trains
We don't like this at all, either.
2. Tell other people you think the EU is a great institution
For years now, the European Union is a shunned and unpopular institution. People who do like it best remain silent about it in the presence of Europeans - that way it can't get out and sully their reputation. The British are opposed to it because it's run by the French and Germans, the French are opposed to it because it's mostly in English, the Germans dislike it because of the Euro, the Dutch dislike it because they now discovered they really aren't the centre of the EU after all, the eastern Europeans dislike it because they discovered it wasn't as exclusive and fun as they thought (much like a child buying a toy and then finding out it's not all it's hyped up to be). If the EU is discussed, it's wise to join in the "Eurocrats" and "Bloody Euro" subjects. Those always go well on parties.
1. Be from another continent yet claim you have a European nationality
No offense to other continents, but if people are from another continent, they're generally not European. This is particularly present in people from North America - Irish and Scottish being the traditional victims of these people's false nationalistic feelings, though every nation is in some way victimised.
It is quite remarkable to see people abroad think they're Irish just because they donate to the IRA or because their ancestors came from Ireland a century ago - surely, although one's ancestors are Irish, that doesn't mean someone a century later, who's never lived in Ireland for even a year, can claim Irish nationality? One might observe that, if anything, they're American.
The strangest thing about it all is the huge amount of national tradition these groups carry on, which tend to have nothing in common with the actual country they claim they're from. Take for example the Highland Games, which apparently is a feast day in North America - you won't find it in the same shape or form back in Scotland. The Saint Patrick's Day celebrations are also rather different in Ireland, and to claim that Halloween is based on the Irish Samhain is curious - although they happen on the same day, now they have so little in common Halloween might as well descend from the old Italian custom of dressing in a toga at a party. Or, basically, all the time.
Those old Italians certainly liked their togas.
So, if you go to Europe and have a distinct American accent (and please please please, don't try to imitate a Scottish or Irish accent) never ever ever say "Wow, that's cool, I'm Irish/Scottish/German/Dutch/Belgian/European, too! Let's talk about our common ancestry while I try and find the real authentic coat of arms of my undoubtedly noble family!"
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