Transcription
C O P Y No. 13 Tours, April 15, 1951
Dear Family:
Today has been one of the greatest climaxes of our French trip, and it looks as though we’ll be in for another climax day tomorrow, but I will leave the best for last and start back with Friday.
We left Cahors in the morning, having taken some pictures of a marvelous old fortified bridge, and started driving north. The weather has been good to us these last days, blue skies with frosty white clouds sailing along, hot sun and cold wind. Almost every bit of road we traveled was lined on either side with tall plane trees, and I think I will always remember them when I think of France.
We ate lunch on an outdoor terrace looking down into a deep valley at Rocomadour, a little village perched on the edge of a steep hill with a castle ruins [sic] dominating it at the very top. The aged guide at the castle wore sabots and a hat with a curtain at the back which made him look like a Foreign legionnaire. Once we were inside the walls he took a deep breath and started in on his guide-book spiel at machine gun speed. When he finally stopped for another breath I asked him please to go a little slower. I might as well have asked for the moon. However, he was very amiable and the view from the castle ramparts was worth the strain of trying to understand his rapid delivery.
Most of the afternoon we spent driving through the Dordogne valley which was sheer delight. Spring is just at the perfect stage here. The trees are lacey green, and in the distance they appear hazy and soft in their pale green hue. At Domme we looked out over the valley with the wide winding river lined with trees, grazing land that looked as smooth as a golf course, and the rich brown of cultivated fields.
That night we stayed in Perigeux, and the next morning, which was Saturday, we found the huge square in front of the cathedral filled with the bustle of market day. All around the edge, booths were set up for cheese and meat and bread, and filling the rest of the square were bright piles of fruit and vegetables in wagons or crates or right on the ground, many of them under gayly colored beach umbrellas.
Again we started north through the beautiful rolling countryside, the only discordant note being that every now and then our horn would stick, and the only way to stop the ear-splitting screech was to get out, raise the hood, and slam it down. We had to learn this the hard way, by trial and error, but once we caught on we got on rather well. John got so that he could pull off to the side of the road, alight from the car, blushing only slightly, and slam the hood in a matter of seconds. Daddy seemed to be immune to this difficulty, and now that John is using his system for honking, we have gone a whole day without having to pull off the road once.
Saturday afternoon we stopped in Poitiers. The baptistry there is the oldest Christian monument in France, and was started in the fourth century. It is a small octagonal building built of brick with no decoration at all. In its simplicity it is more impressive than the cathedral at Poitiers, which isn’t really outstanding. We also saw another very early church whose facade is covered with carvings. Figures and animals seem almost to be crowding each other out, and the remarkable thing is that each one is different. The effect of the whole thing is pretty much of a scramble, but as you go up close and look at each group separately, it is fascinating to see the stories they tell.
We arrived in Tours just before sunset. Bright and early this morning we started out for our day of chateau visiting. We drove first to Villandry which is famous for its 17th century formal gardens. As you look down on them from a high terrace you can see the box hedges forming intricate designs of hearts and butterflies, etc. The gravel around them is raked smooth without so much as a footprint to mar it, and the hedges are so neatly clipped that they look artificial.
Next we went to Azay-le-Rideau, which is the most beautiful of all of them. The white towers topped with their conical roofs against the bright blue sky are mirrored in the stream which surrounds it on three sides. Inside we saw the spaceous [sic] rooms with heavy beams across the ceilings and enormous fireplaces in every room. Some of the 16th century furniture has been preserved and helps to give it a lived-in atmosphere. The canopies for the beds which were 15th century were strung from the ceiling instead of being supported by posts as we’re used to seeing them. The windows were filled with fragments of stained glass which had come from churches that had been sacked during the religious wars.
After lunch in Chinon we saw the ruins of the chateau there, including the room where Joan of Arc recognized the Dauphin and told him that he would be crowned king in the Rheims cathedral. This castle has a charm which the ones which have been completely restored can never have. Grass and wild flowers are growing on the ground floor and ivy is growing up the inside of the walls.
The last chateau we visited today was the one at Langeais, and it was by far the most interesting. It is right in the middle of a little village, so it lacks the beautiful grounds and gardens of the others, but it is so completely restored that it gives you the feeling that its historical inhabitants must have gone out for the afternoon. They even keep fresh flowers in the old copper vases which are kept brightly polished. At Langeais the rooms, especially the bedrooms, are much smaller than others we’ve seen, and with the stone walls completely covered with rich tapestries, a fire laid in the hearth, the chandeliers filled with candles, and all the furniture in place, the rooms look very inviting. Anne of Britanny and Charles VIII were married here and lived here, and everywhere you can see their coats of arms and monograms carved or embroidered. For all of its gracious living, this castle was a strong fortress. We saw the hall where the guards were fed and at the very top of the castle we walked all the way around it on the enclosed rampart walk where the defenders could shoot arrows or spears and drop boiling oil on their adversaries.
It has been a full day, and one of the most interesting ones we’ve had. Tomorrow should be just as good. It’s hard to believe that my next letter will be from Paris and that it will be my last one on this trip.
Love,
JudyTranscriber
Cindi RokeLanguage
English
