Her Brittany home lies in a hollow surrounded by gray-bearded oaks, near the river Ranee. It is full of historical souvenirs of all kinds. Royalty has spent many happy days beneath its high-peeked roof; parties and festivities of all sorts taking place here.
Wednesdays have always been the reception days of the
General and Mme. de Charette, since 1883. Notabilities who came to Brittany, made it a pleasure as well as a duty to pay their respects to the venerable hero and his charming American wife; they enjoyed a truly southern hospitality, inspected the various historical souvenirs, the flags, the banners, the presentation swords (gifts of devoted admirers all over France), walked in the beautiful park, feasted on good wine and good cheer, and departed with a pleasant recollection of all the charms of this old-world manor, given to the famous general by his ardent followers, the Papal Zouaves.
Madame de Charette wanted to offer the same hospitality to her American compatriots as was offered to European royalty and distinguished foreigners. So every Wednesday her doors are opened to 200 Yanks.
They find an excellent "goûter," a charming hostess, surrounded by the ladies of the nobility from the neighborhood, who put themselves out to amuse the "doughboys."
Music, singing, dancing, fill in the hours from 3 to 8, but what they seem to like the most is to sit in the halflight in a circle, before the great granite chimney-place, the logs burning and snapping, casting weird shadows over these fighters from afar, on the heavy oak beams of the "Salle des Zouaves," flitting here and there over the dark oak furniture, catching a sheen of light from steel helmets, of a bit of color from some pendant war flag. They listen to the old southern tales and the history of the general's battles, or tell, themselves, of what they have seen or done in this war of wars.
Among the French and Italian flags is one—a poor, tattered, faded silk American one—cherished reverently by the family; for, in 1862, Mme. de Charette (then Miss Polk) rode on horseback by a black night to warn General Forrest of the approach of the Union troops. After the victory, General Forrest presented this trophy to the young girl, saying: "My child, thanks to you, we have won the battle; to you, therefore, I give the flag."
Mme. de Charette's only son, the Marquis de Charette, was wounded April 16, 1917, being the only man in his tank to escape alive; he has fighting blood in his veins, for, besides his father's, his ancestors, General de Charette fought at Yorktown with General Lafayette—as well as General Leonidas Polk of the Southern army. We consider it a privilege for our Yankee boys to see such an interior; our own entertainments for them in our modern villas at Dinard being much inferior in interest and attractions, but it is a great pleasure to receive them.
Every Saturday a certain number—20 to 25—come to our home, "Val Fleuri," and we give them American pumpkin-pie, cornbread, potato-chips, cakes, chocolate, etc. Pretty girls dance with them, we sing war songs, and old-fashioned ones, too, and although each Saturday brings a new set, my husband and I are glad to be able to offer to these "boys from God's country" an afternoon in our American home.
October, 1918.