Of all the châteaux along the Loire, Amboise enjoys the finest situation. From across the river we could see this dark Gothic mass rising from its cliff-like walls to dominate the town and far-winding stream. The panorama from the high terrace is one of the indescribable views of France. The real treasure of Amboise is the exquisite Chapelle de Saint Hubert, due to Charles VIII. His artistic zeal was tragically interrupted. We saw the low doorway where, according to tradition, he struck his head and killed himself while hastening to play tennis. On the terrace is a bust of Leonardo da Vinci, who died here in 1519. The name of Catherine de' Medici is connected with a frightful scene that occurred in the courtyard. A Huguenot conspiracy to capture the youthful François II was discovered. The fierce Catherine not only witnessed the executions from a balcony, but insisted upon the company of her horrified daughter-in-law, Mary Stuart. Twelve hundred Huguenots were butchered. One writer[7] makes the following grim comment: "It was a long job, of course, to kill so many, and the company could hardly be expected to watch it all, but the noble victims were reserved for their special entertainment after dinner." Catherine seems to have had a peculiar fondness for these innocent and edifying spectacles. We descended the spiral roadway of the colossal tower up which Emperor Charles V rode on horseback when he visited François I. This inclined plane was so perfect and gradual that our motor car could have climbed it with ease.
Copyright by Underwood & Underwood
The Chateau of Amboise on the Loire
Recrossing the Loire, we rode on to Blois for lunch at that famous hostelry, the Hôtel d'Angleterre, close by the river's edge. To the château of Blois belongs historical preëminence. This great castle was the center of French history in the sixteenth century. Elaborate and imposing, Blois recalls the splendor of the age as well as its crimes. Such fireplaces and such ceilings! The colors are crimson and gold. Amid this gloomy grandeur moved Catherine de' Medici. The memory of her presence alone is enough to make the air heavy with intrigue and murder, with all the passions that inflamed the religious wars. Joining the usual tourist crowd, we visited her apartments, including the bedroom where she died in 1589, at the age of seventy, the most infamous of French queens. To us, the strangest fact in the life of this fierce, blood-loving queen is that she was permitted to die a natural death. In one of the chambers were curious secret cupboards where she may have concealed her jewels. The floor above suggested a terribly realistic picture of the assassination of the Duc de Guise, whose popularity and influence had aroused the jealousy of Catherine and Henry III. The concierge explained all the tragic details. This was the salle du conseil, where, on the morning of the assassination, the duke was summoned by the queen to a council; that, the cabinet neuf, where the king remained while the fatal blows were being struck. And there, in the king's chamber, at the foot of the bed, the spot where the body lay when the king exclaimed, "He seems greater in death than in life."
[CHAPTER XIV]
ORLÉANS TO DIEPPE
Leaving the châteaux country, we proceeded to Orléans in the lower part of the Loire valley, spending the night at the Hôtel Saint Aignan. The general appearance of the city is prosperous and modern. The walls which once surrounded it have been turned into promenades. Everything in Orléans seems connected with Jeanne d'Arc. There is a bronze equestrian statue with bas-reliefs of the "Maid" who, clad in white armor, led her soldiers from victory to victory. We hope sometime to be present at the brilliant "Fête de Jeanne d'Arc," which is held every year on May 8, in commemoration of her raising the siege of Orléans in 1429. Small shops display postal cards representing scenes from her life. The Musée is filled with interesting souvenirs. In the cathedral, where the people worship her as a saint, we saw on the walls votive tablets bearing inscriptions of gratitude to her for recovery from sickness. In the same street is the "Maison de Jeanne d'Arc" where she was received by the Duc d'Orléans during the eventful siege. That morning was filled with an interesting series of historical sidelights.
From the vineyards of Touraine to the wheat fields of Normandy; the change was complete. Like an endless white ribbon, the road stretched straight through the vast plain of La Beauce, the granary of France. What far reaches of level fields! There were no telegraph poles, no hedges, no fences. We seemed to be moving through a strange solitude, empty of human face or habitation. The distant farmhouses and windmills were too much like specks on the horizon to seem real. There is, after all, no scenery to compare with the beauty of the lowlands, where every mood of heaven, every change of sky, is part of a wonderful picture. The weather, which was threatening when we left Orléans, now looked more and more like a storm. No shelter was in sight, nothing but the open country, the great dome of heaven, and the road ever narrowing ahead of us until its indistinct thread merged into a faint blur. Swift clouds took on a greenish, copper-colored hue, which deepened into black as they swirled toward us. Then the hailstones began to fall with a stinging force that increased with every movement. It was one of those furious hailstorms of northern France which are as characteristic of that region as the mistral is of the Midi. There were no mitigating influences. The wind was pitiless, untempered even by the shelter of a tree or barn. By stopping the car and crouching behind it, we secured a little protection from the biting blasts. The sun soon burst through the cloud barriers. We continued toward Chartres, stopping for a moment at a railway crossing to "kodak" a passing freight train.