The Duc sought to recover such of the former furnishings of the chateau as had been dissipated during the Revolution whenever they could be heard of and could be had at public or private sale.
In this connection a word on Chantilly lace may not be found inapropos. The Chantilly lace of to-day, it is well to recall, is a mechanically produced article of commerce, turned out by the running mile from Nottingham, England, though in the days when Chantilly's porcelains rivalled those of Sevres it was purely a local product. One may well argue therefore that the bulk of the Chantilly lace sold in the shops of Chantilly to-day is not on a par with the admirable examples to be seen in the glass cases of the museum.
A wooded alley leading to the great park runs between the main edifice and the Chateau d'Enghien, a gentle incline descending again to the sunken gardens in a monumental stairway of easy slope, the whole a quintessence of much that is best of the art of the landscape gardener of the time.
To the left extends the vast Jardin Anglais—a veritable French Jardin Anglais. Let not one overlook the distinction: On conventional lines it is pretty, dainty and pleasing, but the species lacks the dignified formality of the Italian garden or the ingenious arrangement of the French. Its curves and ovals and circles are annoying after the lignes droites and the right angles and the broderies of the French variety.
The Forêt de Chantilly covers two thousand four hundred and forty-nine hectares and extends from the Bois de Hérivaux on one side to the Forêt de Senlis on the other. The rendezvous-de-chasse was, in the old days, and is to-day on rare occasions, at the Rond Point, to which a dozen magnificent forest roads lead from all directions, that from the town being paved with Belgian blocks, the dread of automobilists, but delightful to ride over in muddy weather. The Route de Connetable, so called, is well-nigh ideal of its kind. It launches forth opposite the chateau and at its entrance are two flanking stone lions. It is of a soft soil suitable for horseback riding, but entirely unsuited for wheeled traffic of any kind.
Another of the great forest roads leads to the Chateau de la Reine Blanche, a diminutive edifice in the pointed style, with a pair of svelte towers coiffed candle-snuffer fashion. Tradition, and very ancient and somewhat dubious tradition, attributes the edifice as having belonged to Blanche de Navarre, the wife of Philippe de Valois. Again it is thought to have been a sort of royal attachment to the Abbaye de Royaumont, built near by, by Saint Louis. This quaintly charming manor of minute dimensions was a tangible, habitable abode in 1333, but for generations after appears to have fallen into desuetude. A mill grew up on the site, and again the walls of a chateau obliterated the more mundane, work-a-day mill. The Duc de Bourbon restored the whole place in 1826 that it might serve him and his noble friends as a hunting-lodge.
CHAPTER XXI
COMPIÉGNE AND ITS FOREST
One of the most talked of and the least visited of the minor French palaces is that of Compiègne. The archeologists coming to Compiègne first notice that all its churches are "malorientées." It is a minor point with most folk, but when one notes that its five churches have their high altars turned to all points of the compass, instead of to the east, it is assuredly a fact to be noticed, even if one is more romantically inclined than devout.