At the start of the French Revolution, the market women of Paris, hungry for bread, marched by the thousands to Versailles to confront King Louis XVI and his government over rising food prices and food shortages. Surprising everyone, their demands were met and, in addition, they convinced the royal family—including Queen Marie Antoinette—to relocate to the French capital city. Working class women had never before demonstrated such political clout. These women were hailed as sisters of the Revolution and were invited to important political events. These “mothers of the revolution,” or “bonnes citoyennes,” became overnight heroines for the cause of liberty. They came to be known as the knitting women, or tricoteuses (pronounced trick uh TUZZ).
Over time, though, the tricoteuses grew swollen with power and inflamed by the fury of the Revolution. They became rowdy and blood-thirsty, harassing aristocrats in the street, insulting them and urging the radical sans-culottes, or lower class militants, to carry out dreadful atrocities against them. The tricoteuses were like the Greek furies that punished culprits they thought were guilty by hounding them relentlessly.
The behavior of the tricoteuses became so dangerous that they became a liability to the more authoritarian revolutionary government. On May 21, 1793, the women were banished from government proceedings. Later that week, they were forbidden from forming any political assembly. The tricoteuses were reduced to hanging around the guillotine.
They were the ghoulish women who sat and knitted while the public executions took place during the French Revolution (1789-1799). Many knitted liberty caps, their sharp needles clackety-clacking, while head after head fell beneath the blade and into the basket.
Charles Dickens popularized the tricoteuses in The Tale of Two Cities (1859), set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. One of the main villains of the novel is Madame Defarge, a tricoteuse, a French Revolution fanatic obsessed with the extermination of real and imagined enemies of the Revolution. She knits and her knitting secretly encodes the names of people to be killed.
**Read more about the French Revolution and Marie Antoinette here. Sources: wiki: "Reign of Terror" wiki: "tricoteuse" The Telegraph: "QI: How Knitting was Used as Code in WW2" Timeline: "Horror Spectators: The Lady Revolutionaries who Calmly Knit During Executions" Geri Walton: "Tricoteuses: Knitting Women of the Guillotine"
One has to commend them in the beginning but then they went too far. Strangely, their knitting reminded me of the pink pussy hats. This is a fascinating history. I had forgotten about them in “A Tale of Two Cities.” Good post, Lisa!
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Jonell, I had not made the connection to the pussy hats!!! Well done! Lisa
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Lisa-Should the history of the tricoteuse have put the generally accepted axiom (by women of course) that if the gentler gender ran the world, it would be a happier and more peaceful place?
Loved the blog!
Marika
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Marika, The notion that women look out for their own is a myth. It has not been my experience. I think it is interesting to note Jonell’s observation about them knitting pussy hats. Thanks for reading my blog. Love, Lisa
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Women can be downright cruel. “Gentler gender”?! No. This was a great article. I live for knitting. I don’t think I would want to sit by an active guillotine though! I love France. I am French descent.
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The tricoteuses terrify me. Lisa
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Excellent piece. Shared this with the brilliant Lorna Miller in Glasgow, one of the greatest political cartoonists the UK has ever produced.
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