E-text prepared by Richard Lammers, Stephanie Bailey, and the Project

Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team from images generously madeavailable by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) athttp://gallica.bnf.fr

CHATEAU AND COUNTRY LIFE IN FRANCE

by

MARY KING WADDINGTON

Author of Letters Of A Diplomat's Wife and Italian Letters ofa Diplomat's Wife

Illustrated

1909

[Illustration: A country wedding]

CONTENTS

I. CHÂTEAU LIFE II. COUNTRY VISITS III. THE HOME OF LAFAYETTE IV. WINTER AT THE CHÂTEAU V. CEREMONIES AND FESTIVALS VI. CHRISTMAS IN THE VALOIS VII. A RACINE CELEBRATION VIII. A CORNER OF NORMANDY IX. A NORMAN TOWN X. NORMAN CHÂTEAUX XI. BOULOGNE-SUR-MER

ILLUSTRATIONS

A COUNTRY WEDDINGA FINE OLD CHÂTEAUI LOVED TO HEAR HER PLAY BEETHOVEN AND HANDELTHERE WERE ALL SORTS AND KINDSFERDINAND"MERCI, JE VAIS BIEN"LONG PAUSES WHEN NOBODY SEEMED TO HAVE ANYTHING TO SAYTHEN HE LIGHTED A FIREI SUGGESTED THAT THE WHOLE CHASSE SHOULD ADJOURN TO THE CHÂTEAUSOME RED-COATED, SOME GREEN, ALL WITH BREECHES AND HIGH MUDDY BOOTSPEASANT WOMENA VISIT AT THE CHÂTEAUSOLDIERS AT THE CHÂTEAUTHE MAYOR AND A NICE, RED-CHEEKED, WRINKLED OLD WOMAN WERE WAITING FOR USTHERE WAS ONE HANDSOME BIT OF OLD LACE ON A WHITE NAPPE FOR THE ALTARTHEY WERE ALL STREAMING UP THE SLIPPERY HILL-SIDEALL THE CHILDREN IN PROCESSION PASSEDTHERE WAS ONE POOR OLD WOMAN STILL GAZING SPELL-BOUNDL'ETABLISSEMENT, BAGNOLES DE L'ORNEIN DOMFRONT SOME OF THE OLD TOWERS ARE CONVERTED INTO MODERN DWELLINGSCHÂTEAU DE LASSAYENTRANCE TO HÔTEL OF THE COMTE DE FLORIANMARKET WOMEN, VALOGNESOLD GATE-WAY, VALOGNES

[Illustration: A fine old château.]

I

CHATEAU LIFE

My first experience of country life in France, about thirty years ago,was in a fine old château standing high in pretty, undulating, woodedcountry close to the forest of Villers-Cotterets, and overlooking thegreat plains of the Oise—big green fields stretching away to thesky-line, broken occasionally by little clumps of wood, with steeplesrising out of the green, marking the villages and hamlets which, atintervals, are scattered over the plains, and in the distance the blueline of the forest. The château was a long, perfectly simple, whitestone building. When I first saw it, one bright November afternoon, Isaid to my husband as we drove up, "What a charming old wooden house!"which remark so astonished him that he could hardly explain that itwas all stone, and that no big houses (nor small, either) in Francewere built of wood. I, having been born in a large white wooden housein America, couldn't understand why he was so horrified at myignorance of French architecture. It was a fine old house, high in thecentre, with a lower wing on each side. There were threedrawing-rooms, a library, billiard-room, and dining-room on the groundfloor. The large drawing-room, where we always sat, ran straightthrough the house, with glass doors opening out on the lawn on theentrance side and on the other into a long gallery which ran almostthe whole length of the house. It was always filled with plants andflowers, open in summer, with awnings to keep out the sun; shut inwinter with glass windows, and warmed by one of the three calorifèresof the house. In front of the gallery the lawn sloped down to thew

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