The Tennis Court Oath
Mar. 22nd, 2025 08:52 am I read a chapter of Carlyle's French Revolution before going to bed. It's a slow process but I'm savouring it sentence by sentence. Carlyle was one hell of a writer!
I've just reached the turning point of the "tennis court oath" (le serment do jeu de paume). The king, arm-wrestling the Commons, has shut down their venue- on the lame pretext of getting carpenters in to make him a plattorm from which he can address them- so their President- the astronomer Bailly- finds them another- a roofed tennis court- and there they assemble to swear an oath to be united in a common purpose. The king's stratagem has blown up in his face- and his power has evaporated. Just like that. From now on he will no longer be a player but a thing that's batted back and forth and bounced off walls.
Carlyle makes you feel the drama, the exhilaration. I'm lying propped up in bed making nary a sound but inwardly I'm cheering.
In this time of overturn of all the fixities and certainties of our civilisation it feels appropriate to be reading about this earlier bouleversement.
The painter David, who produced indelible images of the Revolution and the Napoleonic period, has one of the tennis court oath. The painting was never completed because it was a long term project- involving the making of a great number of individual portraits- and the political weather changed- but we have his preliminary sketches. I love how the curtains are billowing inwards as the wind of revolution sweeps through France.

I've just reached the turning point of the "tennis court oath" (le serment do jeu de paume). The king, arm-wrestling the Commons, has shut down their venue- on the lame pretext of getting carpenters in to make him a plattorm from which he can address them- so their President- the astronomer Bailly- finds them another- a roofed tennis court- and there they assemble to swear an oath to be united in a common purpose. The king's stratagem has blown up in his face- and his power has evaporated. Just like that. From now on he will no longer be a player but a thing that's batted back and forth and bounced off walls.
Carlyle makes you feel the drama, the exhilaration. I'm lying propped up in bed making nary a sound but inwardly I'm cheering.
In this time of overturn of all the fixities and certainties of our civilisation it feels appropriate to be reading about this earlier bouleversement.
The painter David, who produced indelible images of the Revolution and the Napoleonic period, has one of the tennis court oath. The painting was never completed because it was a long term project- involving the making of a great number of individual portraits- and the political weather changed- but we have his preliminary sketches. I love how the curtains are billowing inwards as the wind of revolution sweeps through France.
