“A chamberpot? Your father’s sweat and blood is a chamberpot? I see your motive. Destroy the last monument to your father’s accomplishments.”

He was all aglow in the powder-blue uniform of the Austrian Hussars, complete with shining silver chamberpot for the head, waving a blue plume.

In the lowest parts of Toulon there were no privies at all, and the people emptied their chamberpots into the streets every morning.