Every year as I grew up in Annapolis, I saw the streets downtown barricaded off in mid-July for the Bastille Day celebrations. Obviously, French support was essential to the success of the American revolution, and within the Maryland State House stands the very room where the Treaty of Paris was ratified, ending the war (January 14th, 1784). All of this took place because, at that time, Annapolis was the capitol of the United States (third capitol of the colonies after Philadelphia and New York, and effectively first of the newly minted country — would you have ever guessed I was a tour guide in high school?). Moreover, there’s a ‘Treaty of Paris’ restaurant just across the street, which stands as a reminder of the close relationship between Annapolis and France that has endured ever since, and that stands as primary host of the yearly Bastille Day festivities.
I was immensely proud of our portion of the grand narrative, but after converting to Catholicism in college, my enthusiasm began to wane. John Paul Jones not withstanding (and his marvelous crypt was right next to the chapel where I was received into the Church and beneath the larger chapel where I was married) my regard for France was duly coloured by subsequent chapter of history. Historian Stephanie Mann concurs:
When Bastille Day comes around each summer on July 14, I just can’t bring myself to pop the cork on a bottle of Champagne-style California sparkling wine (the kind I can afford). The Fête Nationale commemorates the storming of the Bastille prison in 1789 and its one year anniversary, Fête de la Fédération, when a new government, with Louis XVI as a constitutional monarch, seemed to indicate a peaceful resolution to the French Revolution. I can’t help thinking of all that came after that, including the Reign of Terror and the campaign to destroy Catholicism in France. If I’m going to toast the memory of anyone in the middle of July, it would be the Blessed Carmelites of Compiègne, the nuns guillotined on July 17, 1794.
Stephanie’s account of their martyrdom adds details about other persecuted nuns who were briefly joined to the Carmelites — Benedictine nuns who fled England because of the anti-Catholic reforms of Henry VIII.
[O]ne of the nuns asked the judge, Fouquier-Tinville, what he meant when he charged them with “fanaticism.” He replied, “I mean your attachment to your childish beliefs and your silly religious practices.” The Carmelites rejoiced that they could be found guilty of being true Catholics. Their conduct at the guillotine, which had been moved from what is now Place de la Concorde to what is now Place de la Nation (too much blood had accumulated on the former site) is the stuff of legend … Loaded into the tumbrel and driven through the streets of Paris, they chanted the “Miserere”, the “Salve Regina”, the “Te Deum”.
Do read her piece and consider the measure of faith it required for each group to persevere under the circumstances. Contemporary life is quite different, obviously, but do we have what it takes to hold fast to the truth about the human person in the current culture? Can we witness boldly to “Male and female he made them”? I’m not so sure about myself, but always try to remember that the grace of the moment will be sufficient. That said, it behooves us to intensify our prayer and understanding of all Church teaching related to marriage and sexuality, for that may soon be the fodder for the modern guillotines.
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