Tavern at the Royal Drum /Tavern aux tambour royal

 

https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/P_1861-1012-270

This is my holiday gift to all of you! When looking for something else I stumbled upon this absolute gem! 

This is a circa 1758, French etching published by Parvillé in Paris. It advertises the interior of the tavern of Monsieur Ramponneau. Please go to the above link at the British Museum and zoom in to see what the figures are up to! From finely dressed gentlemen and women to lowly vomiting fishmongers

it seems all were welcome at the Royal Drum! 

The walls are adorned with murals of lively characters captioned in French and Latin.

Pitchers line the walls and their contents flow freely from rather frazzled looking wait staff. 

A large hearth appears to be churning out fish as each table appears laden with food. 

I would love to jump into the page and have dinner at that tavern, but then I think about how it probably smelled and I’m glad it’s just an etching.  

The closest I’ve gotten to the Ramponneau´s experience was at Grandchamps Restaurent in recreated Fortress Louisbourg, Nova Scotia. The pictures on trip advisor show the same fairly small dining room with white washed walls and historical, graffiti-esque drawings scrawled on the walls that I do fondly remember. The reviews are unfortunately very poor but I disagree wholeheartedly. Grandchamps offers a uniquely authentic recreated experience unrivaled anywhere on this continent. And you can tell Josiah Chowning I said that.

In 2008 when I was there for the 250th commemoration of the Siege of Fortress Louisbourg, I was very impressed with the place. It was full of reenactors and I mean f u l l and it felt like I always imagined a colonial tavern would. I distinctly remember in particular a large drawing of Bacchus straddling a keg which I loved as a 19 year old in a foreign country able to drink alcohol legally for the first time.

So when I found this image of Ramponneau´s at the Royal Drum I was thrilled to see Bachus once again, which is what made me slide down this rabbit hole in the first place.

Proof of my cringy joy at Grandchamps in 2008.

For my similarly linguistically challenged friends I with the expert help of my authentically  Québécoise sister-in-law translated the captions from the murals on the walls from left to right and the text introducing the tavern on the bottom.

The doctor and Le polichinel (a clown like figure). Pulcinella (Italian pronunciation: [pultʃiˈnɛlla]; Neapolitan: Pulecenella) is a classical character that originated in commedia dell'arte of the 17th century and became a stock character in Neapolitan puppetry

gallus cantavit (the Latin) le coq a chanté (french) meaning the rooster crowed.

Prêt à boire - Ready to drink

suis j'ay soif- Am I thirsty 

I like that this guy is bringing his own pitcher. I’m not sure if that was normal or if it’s just a joke. Any insight would be appreciated.

Bachus -Dionysus (/daɪ.əˈnaɪsəs/; Ancient Greek: Διόνυσος Dionysos) is the god of the grape-harvest, winemaking, orchards and fruit, vegetation, fertility, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, festivity, and theatre in ancient Greek religion and myth. He is also known as Bacchus (/ˈbækəs/ or /ˈbɑːkəs/; Ancient Greek: Βάκχος Bacchos) by the Greeks. This name was later adopted by the Romans;

My goose does everything, I don’t know if this was a saying that is lost on me or what it is referencing but it’s great!

 

Credit is dead- I love this one, this has great energy. I’m. It sure who the figure in the drawing is but perhaps someone Royal? Maybe Monsieur Ramponneau himself?

la camargot- Marie Anne de Cupis de Camargo (15 April 1710 in Brussels – 28 April 1770 in Paris), sometimes known simply as La Camargo, was a French dancer. The first woman to execute the entrechat quatre, Camargo was also allegedly responsible for two innovations in ballet as she was one of the first dancers to wear slippers instead of heeled shoes, and, while there is no evidence that she was the first woman to wear the short calf-length ballet skirt, the now standardized ballet tights she did help to popularize these. She is said to have been as strong as the male dancers.

And her dance partner Good mood!

The center of the print has a portrait of the tavern’s owner flanked by a descriptive advertisement.

The original French:

Au sein de la paix, gouter le plaisir / / Oû bien chez Magny s’aller divertir / C’etoit la vieille méthôde / a Paris rue S.te Hyachinthe dans la maison de M. Parvillée M.e Ecrivain

L’on voit aujourd’hui courir nos Badaux; / Sans les achever quitter leurs travaux; / Pourquoy? c’est qu ils vont chés Mons Ramponaux / Voila la Taverne a la mode / Avec Permission de M. le Lieutenant General de Police

Today we see our Badaux running; / Without completing them leave their work; / Why? it's that they go to Mons Ramponaux / Here is the fashionable tavern / With Permission from the Lieutenant General of Police

In the midst of peace, enjoy pleasure / At home have fun in a sweet leisure / Or go to Magny to have fun / It was the old method / in Paris rue S.te Hyachinthe in the house of M. Parvillée M.e Writer

Again, I’m not entirely sure what all of the references mean but I love the sentiment. This ad would have had ME running to Mons Ramponaux tavern!

I hope you enjoyed my deep dive into this etching as much as I did!

What did I learn this summer? /Qu'est-ce que j'ai appris cet été?

 I was very fortunate to participate in four Seven Years War in America re-enactments this summer. Fort de La Présentation in Ogensburg NY, Fort Niagara in Youngstown NY and Fort Carllion In Ticonderoga NY, and Fort St. Frederic in Crown Point NY. 

I’ll say the first thing I need to do is figure out how people in the 18th century dealt with bugs! I had a problem with mosquitos in Carllion and a problem with biting ants at Fort St. Frederic. If these senarios were real life moving to a more advantageous  place would have been the reality. I didn’t have much choice when I was in either of those places. So I learned that I need to find out how 18th century people dealt with bugs. I must admit I resorted to modern means in order to quell the onslaught.

The second thing I learned is the importance of shade. At fort Niagara wanting to be as historically correct as possible, traveling very light, and because I had access to an entire stone building I didn’t bring tent poles, just my prélart and some ropes and wooden tent pegs. The  building was hotter inside than outside because of poor to no ventilation. The outside was stifling because of a lack of shade.Attempts to suspend the tarp from the bars on the building’s windows and holding edges down with wooden stakes proved futile. The wind at that fort is quite stiff and whips violently across the totally open bowl shaped grounds of the fort.  Not being able to stand broiling in the sun any longer I vowed to never go without shade again and cut poles and ropes to suspend my prélart from when I returned home. 

At Carllion we had the pleasure of cutting poles. I went with a breezy lean to made of sticks lashed together in a rough grid. It’s real purpose was the provide shade which it did well during the event. Luckily we were encamped near the woods and when things got really sunny we could retreat to she shade of some trees. I also had the privilege of using plenty of rope and iron tent stakes. Had I needed to it could have been done without them but was much easier doing with them. 

At Fort St. Frederic I brought six poles, 8 ropes and 10 iron tent stakes. This provided me with a spacious breezy lean to with an over hang. It was fantastic to sit under and smoke my pipe while at the fort. My fellow milice and I had to chase the shade a bit but we were gifted a watermelon by “The Wolves of the English”,our native British allied enemies for the weekend, and I personally stayed quite refreshed.

The poles are unfortunately a necessary evil in our times. Except for those few events in my home county or where I can cut poles, I can’t in good conscience transport wood which may spread disease or parasites to other woodlands. 

The iron tent stakes are a modern luxury. I would never in a million years cart around that heavy canvas prélart and a bag of iron tent stakes. I simply wouldn’t do it. Cutting wooden tent stakes and a maul to pound them into the ground with is my next big project. My last foray into wooden tent stake making only really made kindling. 

I learned that the resources of time and natural space was much more plentiful in the 18th century. I’m at a site for a long weekend or sometimes just one day and an overnight. Even if every historic site allowed me to cut poles and erect shelters at every place in the woods I wouldn’t have enough time for demonstrations and battle reenactment scenarios and things like earrings and socializing. If I don’t erect some sort of shaded cover my health will suffer and I won’t participate in the event fully anyway. 

For the moment I’ll count the iron tent stakes as a modern luxury in need of correction. The poles (and potentially the rope) are questions of place, resources and time. Do I have the resources and time in the place I am in to cut poles and produce cordage? Usually the answer is no. 

Below are pictures of my learning curve in erecting a prelart as a shelter.