Napoléon's Hat

Napoléon's bicorne hat, worn at the battle of Waterloo. (Source)

So Joe (le vieil homme excentrique) posed the question yesterday -

"Can you explain why Napoleon wore such a goofy hat? What possible function could that shape have? Kind of like wearing a ball cap sideways."

Yes, I can explain that, Joe. (And David, I will be talking about l'Empereur and his times today. No humbugging, I assure you.)

The hat in the opening photo is known as a bicorne or cocked hat. It's predecessor was the tricorne, or three cornered hat, which you might know from our own Revolution.

Surrender of Lord Cornwallis by John Trumbull (Source)
Check out the hats everyone is wearing, then look at the next painting.

Bataille d'Iena. 14 octobre 1806  by Horace Vernet (Source)

Notice that the Emperor is wearing the cocked hat which everyone associates with him. Note also the other two guys on horseback, they are wearing similar hats but Napoléon's looks more like those in the previous painting. So was Napoléon old fashioned? No, check out the officer on foot in the background just to the right of the Emperor's horse. His hat looks a lot like Napoléon's doesn't it?

Now the bicorne, which means a "two cornered," could be worn in one of two ways. From side-to-side (like Napoléon and the officer on foot) or fore-and-aft, like the two guys on horses (the guy with the really fancy uniform is Marshal Joachim Murat, a brilliant cavalryman who liked to design his own uniforms, pretty non-standard, but we'll get to that momentarily).

In French the two styles were known as en ligne (side-to-side or "in line") and en colonne (in column or fore-and-aft). In the early days of the Napoleonic period the majority of the French army wore bicornes. Par exemple -

(Source)

Note the number of different ways the hat is worn. Some en ligne, some en colonne, some at any old angle the wearer finds comfortable. The tricorne and its descendant the bicorne were very common in those days, it wasn't just Napoléon. Heck, check out Captain Jack Sparrow -

(Source)

Classic three cornered hat! All the rage in the mid to late 18th century and early 19th century! Even Admiral Nelson (another famous sailor) had a hat similar in shape to Napoléon's.

Rear-Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson, 1758-1805
by Lemuel Francis Abbott (Source)

As to the practicality (or goofiness) of said chapeau, we have to remember that uniforms back in the day were not really intended to be all that practical. They were intended to boost the men's morale, give them a feeling of cohesiveness, and to help identify the unit they belonged to. Officers tended to dress better (fancier uniforms of a better cut and quality) so that they could be readily identified.

It would be relatively to pick Napoléon out, even from a distance, with that famous cocked hat, the gray redingote, and the obligatory white horse. At Waterloo the British noticed Napoléon reviewing his troops from horseback from quite a distance away. (One officer mentioned to Wellington that he might try a shot from one of his cannon to bring down the Corsican, Wellington was shocked that a gentleman would propose such a thing!)

In the cavalry, officers and trumpeters (the signalmen of their day) rode white horses while the men rode darker animals. You needed to be able to find your leaders in the churn and noise of battle and the officers needed to find their trumpeter in a hurry as well. ("Trumpeter, sound the recall!")

Now some officers, especially cavalry officers, loved to wear extraordinary, even outlandish looking, uniforms. If they were excellent cavalry leaders (men like Murat and Lasalle) they could get away with it. (Though Murat's concoctions tried the Emperor's patience on occasion.)

Joachim Murat
from a portrait by François Gérard (Source)

Antoine Charles Louis de Lasalle
by Antoine-Jean Gros (Source)

Practical uniforms didn't come along until later in history when weapons became more lethal than the single shot muskets and cannon of Napoléon's time. Early in World War I the French infantry were still wearing blue coats (and now red trousers!), marching in nice (impractical) formations. And being mowed down by German machine guns.

So practicality took a back seat to style, morale, and cohesiveness in Napoléon's day. Of course, then, as now, after a few days of campaigning, everyone was covered in dirt or mud. After weeks in the field everyone started to look rather tattered. There were some attempts at practicality, for instance the French infantry tended to wear rather shapeless (practical) gray greatcoats in the field. The fancy uniforms stayed under the coat, plumes and such were kept in the knapsack and the fancy hat covered with an oilcloth. After all, all that finery cost money.

French Infantry, circa 1812 (Source)

Parade dress on the left, campaign dress on the right. (The guy in white is dressed for fatigue duties. Think digging latrines, chopping wood. or just lying about the camp smoking one's pipe. The Emperor wanted to re-clothe his troops in white - which the French Army used to wear, prior to the Revolution - as opposed to the blue uniforms which came from the old French National Guard. The white uniforms were not popular with the troops. Wounds looked a lot more nasty on a white coat and the much despised Austrian "white mice" wore white. No self-respecting Frenchman would want to look like an Austrian.)

For a couple of other things about Napoléon (he was short, not, he had a stomach problem hence the hand in the coat, negative) check this out.

I hope that answers your question Joe. (And I hope that was Napoleonic enough David.)

Until next time, here's one of my favorite French Army tunes,

And yes, I love onions fried in oil.

Le Chant de l'Oignon                                    (The Song of the Onion)

J'aime l'oignon frît à l'huile,                       (I love onion fried with oil,)
J'aime l'oignon quand il est bon,               (I love the onion when it's good,)
J'aime l'oignon frît à l'huile,                       (I love onion fried with oil,)
J'aime l'oignon, j'aime l'oignon.                (I love onion, I love onion.)

(refrain)
Au pas camarade, au pas camarade,       (Let's charge comrades, let's charge comrades.)
Au pas, au pas, au pas.                                (Let's charge, let's charge, let's charge)
Au pas camarade, au pas camarade,       (Let's charge comrades, let's charge comrades.)
Au pas, au pas, au pas.                                (Let's charge, let's charge, let's charge)

Un seul oignon frît à l'huile,                        (One onion fried with oil,)
Un seul oignon nous change en lion,         (One onion we change into a lion,)
Un seul oignon frît à l'huile                         (One onion fried with oil,)
Un seul oignon nous change en lion.         (One onion we change into a lion,)

(refrain)

Mais pas d'oignons aux Autrichiens,        (But no onions for the Austrians)
Non pas d'oignons à tous ces chiens,        (No onions for all these dogs)
Mais pas d'oignons aux Autrichiens,        (But no onions for the Austrians)
Non pas d'oignons, non pas d'oignons.    (No onions, no onions)

(refrain)

Aimons l'oignon frît à l'huile,                    (Love the onion fried with oil.)
Aimons l'oignon car il est bon,                  (Love the onion because it's good,)
Aimons l'oignon frît à l'huile,                    (Love the onion fried with oil.)
Aimons l'oignon, aimons l'oignon            (Love the onion, love the onion.)

(refrain) (Source)

Yeah, I Got Nothing...

I don't know, but the Emperor looks a bit like DeNiro here. A bit.

So far it's been a long week. At work, we managed to break our computer Tuesday night and hadn't gotten it back on its feet by Wednesday. My Marine counter-part (okay, he's not in the Marines anymore, but he was a corporal back in the day) has a couple of ideas to get it running again. They should work.

I hope so, otherwise it's back to documentation Hell for me.

Software is all fun and games until it's time to write the manuals.

Okay, fun and games doesn't really describe it. Mentally, it's hard work.

No, really. You try to get all those 1's and 0's to line up in the right order. (Okay, a purist would point out it's just fluctuations in voltages representing 1's and 0's. Not real 1's and 0's. Hardware people, geez.)

How Napoléon saw himself crossing the Alps.

How Napoléon actually crossed the Alps.

Anyhoo...

About that malfunctioning computer, it's really my fault. I discovered something and said to Ron, the Marine, "Hey Ron, this test doesn't actually test anything!"

"Let me see."

"You're right. I have a couple of ideas, why don't you go to lunch and let me play with it?"

"Okay."

Some time later Ron comes back and announces, "Uh, we have a problem."

Ever the smartass, I respond, "Whaddaya mean we?"

So today we make one last attempt. Then it's time to call IT.

Let them figure it out.

Yeah, I got nothing.

So I'm going to watch some Russian dash cam videos for inspiration. You get...

Don't look at me, I wasn't expecting that either.

Hoisted...*

(Source)

So the other day, Juvat waxed eloquent on the "power" of The Chant. To wit, he had posted on a previous Monday as to the iniquities and inaccuracies of the construction zone signage in the Great State of Texas, whereby they proclaimed that one should "expect" delays from 8 AM to 5 PM.

Now our very own Juvat's point, in the first post, was to point out that delays could actually be expected from 7 AM to 7 PM. Now, having brought that matter to light, 'twas but a short time later that the signage was corrected to tell passers-by that delays could indeed be "expected" from 7 AM to 7 PM. Hence, Juvat proposes, TXDOT disposes.

A case of "be careful what you wish for"? Or, as our own survivor of L'Ancien Régime (Old NFO) put it "Hoist on your own petard eh?"

Well, in a manner of speaking, yes, yes, he was. (Hoist upon his own petard that is.)

Which put me in mind of a post. As comments often do.

Now I know what a petard is, I also know the original meaning of "being hoisted upon one's own petard," but what I didn't know was that the line originated with the Bard himself, to wit in Act 3, Scene 4 of Hamlet -

There's letters seal'd; and my two schoolfellows,
Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,
They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way
And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
For 'tis the sport to have the engineer
Hoist with his own petar; and 't shall go hard
But I will delve one yard below their mines
And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet
When in one line two crafts directly meet.
This man shall set me packing:
I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.
Mother, good night. Indeed, this counsellor
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,
Who was in life a foolish prating knave.
Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.
Good night, mother.

I like to think of The Chant as a bastion of education regarding all things, well, not trivial but certainly not extremely profound, so let us say "interesting." After all, we're not just a collection of aging pretty boys. (Well, Tuna and Juvat could be. As to moi, the best I've ever been called is "cute." And I think sarcasm might have been involved.)

Now a petard, (which some sources tell me comes from the French word péter, which means to "break wind" but in a perhaps less refined way) was a device used by old-timey medieval combat engineers to blow holes in doors, walls, aluminum siding, etc. No, they didn't actually have aluminum siding in the Middle Ages, I was being "cute." If they did, it no doubt would have been called "aluminium." Which is how the Britons say it...

Who?

The Britons.

(You should have seen that coming...)

Now, where was I?

Oh yes, "hoist upon one's own petard." Now a petard was full of explosives (well, black powder, a medieval explosive) and would go boom when fire was applied to the fuse and the fire finally reached the powder. Now in olden times there wasn't a lot of what we now call quality control. OSHA hadn't been invented yet and I also doubt the existence of a Bureau of Ordnance at that time.

And my point is?

Well, I have a certain amount of experience with 'splodey things and sometimes poorly made fuses will burn a Hell of a lot faster than you'd perhaps want them to.

Why yes, exactly like that.

When that happened the old-timey combat engineer would be caught in the explosion of his petard and perhaps be tossed skyward. Hoisted, as it were.

On their own petard.

As for me? I'd rather hoist one of these -

(Source)

But only when it's time to splice the mainbrace.

Like I said, cute.



*Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were unavailable for comment. As was the melancholy Dane...

Hhmm, Those Are My Monkeys...

(Source)

Yup, it's also my circus...

Not to insult the entire 114th Congress, but well, they are part of the problem.

Monday morning, first thing in the lab, a co-worker asks me if I've seen so-and-so. Well, he's not in the lab (which isn't that big). As he's on a different project, I immediately reply with -

"Not my circus, not my monkey."

Oddly enough, my colleague had never heard that phrase before. I'm not sure where I first heard (read) it, probably here on the Web of World-Wideness. But his constant chortling and the mumbles of "hahaha, not my monkey..." got me to thinking about the provenance of that phrase.

Apparently it's from Poland and the short story is that it means "not my problem." I like this answer from a Polish fellow (who, surprise, surprise, lives in Poland*) -

As others already said it means “not my problem”, but in some special context, like:

“I won’t interfere or bother myself with trouble in a place I don’t belong to or have no authority — it’s someone else’s job to deal with this.”

I'll bet you're wondering by now, "Gee Sarge, how do you say that in Polish."

Well, there's the smartass answer: "że."

Then there's the Juvat answer, "Not my circus, not my monkeys. In Polish." (Not that different, intent-wise, from the smartass answer.)

Finally, there's the real answer: "Nie mój cyrk, nie moje małpy." Which is pronounced roughly: "nee moy tseerk, nee moy-ee mow-py mal-puh." (Thanks to an alert reader! Who speaks Polish!) Hopefully, by now you've perhaps discerned the meaning behind this (so far) rather rambling post.

After seeking the back story to "Not my circus, not my monkeys," as I was turning my attention back to my duties, a colleague (a different one than the aforementioned one) asked me if I had seen the latest hubbub concerning the political circus currently taking place in this benighted country of ours.

"I am aware of the story but..."

I almost said, "Not my circus, not my monkeys." Which is when the subject for today's post hit me.

Damn it. This is my circus and those are my monkeys! If you're an American citizen then it's also your circus and your monkeys. As much as I'd like to keep the hatch closed and let the storm pass me by, that's not going to happen.

The government of these here United States was designed to function with all the precision of a Swiss watch. Each part contributing to the whole. Furthermore, no section of government is supposed to be supreme to any other. Checks and balances dontcha know?

But if one or more parts of the government cease to function according to design, then the machine starts to run a bit rough. Sputters, doesn't get very good mileage, etc., etc. So what happens then?

Well, what's supposed to happen is that the citizens (who really are the final arbiters in government affairs) step in and remove the malfunctioning parts, replacing them with parts who will function properly.

The parts are your elected representatives, the remove and replace bit is what we call an election. I know, I know, this is a Presidential election (said with great gravitas) and will set the tone for years to come, blah, blah, blah.

Ever heard of the Electoral College? Yeah, they actually elect the President. Sure it's meant to reflect the "popular" vote but actually doesn't have to!!!

Yup, it's happened before. One fellow "wins" the election and the other guy takes the oath on the 20th of January. To wit -

The 2000 election was the most recent when the candidate who received the greatest number of electoral votes, and thus won the presidency, didn’t win the popular vote. But this scenario has played out in our nation’s history before.

In 1824, John Quincy Adams was elected president despite not winning either the popular vote or the electoral vote. Andrew Jackson was the winner in both categories. Jackson received 38,000 more popular votes than Adams, and beat him in the electoral vote 99 to 84. Despite his victories, Jackson didn’t reach the majority 131 votes needed in the Electoral College to be declared president. In fact, neither candidate did. The decision went to the House of Representatives, which voted Adams into the White House.

In 1876, Rutherford B. Hayes won the election (by a margin of one electoral vote), but he lost the popular vote by more than 250,000 ballots to Samuel J. Tilden.

In 1888, Benjamin Harrison received 233 electoral votes to Grover Cleveland’s 168, winning the presidency. But Harrison lost the popular vote by more than 90,000 votes.

In 2000, George W. Bush was declared the winner of the general election and became the 43rd president, but he didn’t win the popular vote either. Al Gore holds that distinction, garnering about 540,000 more votes than Bush. 

However, Bush won the electoral vote, 271 to 266. (Sources - here and here.)

While we the people don't elect the President directly, we do elect folks to the House of Representative and the Senate (which that last bit was not intended by the Founders, see the Seventeenth Amendment to the Constitution). Many (including Your Humble Scribe) consider the Seventeenth Amendment to be a bad idea, a bug, not a feature. YMMV. (Naturally.)

Anyhoo...

We elect the House of Representatives and the Senate. Guess what happens in government if the Congress doesn't fund it? By law, nothing.

Guess who gets appointed to the Supreme Court if the Senate doesn't approve them? By law, nobody. Same goes for treaties. (See the Iran nuclear "agreement." Not a treaty, Senate didn't approve it, wasn't even presented to them.)

So if Congress does nothing, the Executive and Judicial Branches can run rampant, might as well have an absolute monarchy for all the Congress would be worth.

But, but, what about Supreme Court Justices? They get appointed for life, right? Well, yes and no. For you see, a Supreme can be impeached and then removed. Just like any other elected or appointed government official. Really? Yes, really. Impeachment for a Supreme works the same as for a President. How is that? (You ask.)

Well, the House of Representatives has to hear the charges against the accused and if they vote to impeach (it's similar to an indictment in a court case), then the Senate decides whether or not to convict. So while Supremes are appointed for life, there is a method and a means to remove them from the bench. (You can read more here. Or here. Or you could look it up in the Constitution. I'll leave that as an exercise for the reader.)

Again, that's up to Congress. And here's how we, the people, feel about them -

(Source)

Not very impressive innit?

So while the Presidential race gets all the ink (and oxygen, dear Lord can the media waste oxygen on this topic), it's the Congressional races you really need to pay attention to.

Do you like your Congress-critter? Yes?

Well, no one else does. Trust me, mine suck, yours suck. They all have pretty much not been doing their jobs since about '02, and they weren't real impressive before that. I mean, seriously, approval ratings averaging generally 40% and under for over forty years? That's a long time. That's a lot of explaining to do. To us.

We, the people.

Go. Vote. Toss them out, they suck, let's get some new blood in there.

I mean seriously. They are the problem. Not the solution.

This is our circus, those most definitely are our monkeys.

Sarge sends...





* Growing up there were a lot of Poles in my hometown, the older generation all spoke Polish. Not to mention Chicago. Bang-bang.

Behold the Power of the Chant!

So, last week I posted a bit of a rant about TXDOT and the highway improvement project that runs from where I turn on to that highway until just prior to where I turn off that highway on my way to work.  A distance of about 7 miles.  Prior to the project, that stretch would take me maybe 10 minutes door to door.  With the project at times, it's taken almost an hour.  Numerous single lane traffic detours on a well traveled 4 lane highway.  Planning?  Thy name certainly isn't TXDOT.

In any case, my chief gripe there is a sign that says "Expect Delays" then "8AM to 5PM".

Liars!

I've been stopped at 7:30 AM and 6:30PM, waiting for the one lane and pilot car to change direction to the way I'm headed. That event  can take 15 to 20 minutes as the pilot car, regardless of circumstances, rarely exceeds 30 MPH and certainly not 45.

So, my gripe was "if you're going to work 7AM to 7PM, make the sign read 7 AM to 7 PM"

Behold the Power of the Chant!

Wait for it!

Don't know if that's an improvement but it certainly proves the adage "Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it."

Hunkering Down

(Source)

With the election right around the corner, nine days by my reckoning, there is a huge temptation to seal the hatch to The Chant, get in a hull down position, and kill the engine to reduce my heat signature until this whole mess blows over. I am certainly feeling the need to hunker down and prepare for the incoming propaganda and nonsense.

Yup.

INCOMING!

Did you know that there is a Tube O' You video which is nothing more than ten hours of the sound of distant artillery?

No, really. Search on "distant artillery ambience" - you'll see.

Not sure if that would help me sleep though, might even keep me awake. I'm more of a "surf on the beach" kind of guy.

Not the view on 09 Nov 16. (Source)

I don't want to comment on all the bovine excrement being spread by the chattering class, though it is surely tempting to do so. This election has pretty much cemented, in my mind anyway, the concept that all politicians suck. Sure, sure, there may be one or two who don't, but for the most part, once they get into office, that's all they care about. Staying in office.

That sucks.

So I'm gonna keep the hatch cracked open a little bit, try to navigate the next nine days without losing my mind, or my sense of humor, and hope that everyone keeps their cool. It's an election, the stakes are high but trust me, the world won't end on the 9th of November.

However, I won't offer any guarantees as to the 20th of January. I will say this though, that will be a Friday, so it won't be all bad.

No matter which way the election goes.

Get it right next time...

(Source)

Get it right next time

Out on the street I was talkin' to a man

He said "there's so much of this life of mine that I don't understand"

You shouldn't worry I said that ain't no crime

Cause if you get it wrong you'll get it right next time, next time.

You need direction, yeah you need a name

When you're standing in the crossroads every highway looks the same

After a while you can recognize the signs

So if you get it wrong you'll get it right next time, next time.

Life is a liar yeah life is a cheat

It'll lead you on and pull the ground from underneath your feet

No use complainin', don't you worry, don't you whine

Cause if you get it wrong you'll get it right next time, next time.

You gotta grow, you gotta learn by your mistakes

You gotta die a little everyday just to try to stay awake

When you believe there's no mountain you can climb

And if you get it wrong you'll get it right next time, next time.

- Gerry Rafferty