Chateau and Country Life in France

OURCQ, April

bringing up the rear of the procession, holding the smallest children, babies three and four years old, by the hand, three or four more clinging to her skirts, and guiding them across the perilous passage of the bridge over the canal. It is a pretty view from the bridge. The canal (really the river Ourcq, canalisée), which has preserved its current and hasn't the dead, sluggish look of most canals, runs alongside of the Mail, a large green place with grass, big trees, a broad walk down the centre, and benches under the trees. It is a sort of promenade for the inhabitants and also serves as a vill

he ice sometimes, and a biting wind is blowing down the canal, it is pitiable to see the poor things thinly clad, shivering and damp; their hands and arms red and chapped with cold. On the othe

naire of Racine. They were making preparations at Paris, also at Port Royal, and it seemed hard

hough he separated himself entirely from the "Solitaires" during the years of his brilliant career as poet and courtier, there remained always in his heart a latent tenderness for the quiet green valley of the Chevreuse, where he had passed all his years of adolescence, listening to th

se de Port Royal, begging him to keep away from "des fréqu

cares of state and increasing years made all diversions pall upon him. He saw the decline and disgrace of Madame de Montespan, the marvellous good fortune of Madame de Maintenon. His famous tragedies of Esther and Athalie were written at Madame de Maintenon's request for her special institution of St. Cyr, and the performances were honoured by the presence of the King. Racine himself directed the rehearsals and the music was composed by Jean Baptiste Moreau, organist of St. Cyr. The youthful actresses showed wonderful aptitude in interpreting the passionate, tender verses of the poet. Young imaginations worked and jealousies and rivalries ran high. After a certain number of representatio

founders of the famous sect of Jansenists whose controversies with the Jesuits convulsed the whole religious world in France during the years 1662-1668. He was

climbed the steep little street that leads to the ruins, and thought of the changes, since the little boy lay on the

a solution, or at least we decided what we wanted: a special service in the fine old church of Notre Dame, which stands beautifully on the hill, close to the ruins; a representation of the Comédie Fran?aise, and of course a banquet at the Sauvage, with all the official world, s

édie Fran?aise, a most cultivated, charming man. He is generally rather chary of letting his pensionnaires play en province, but this really was an occasion to break through his rules, and he was quite ready to help us in every way. We had also M. Sebline, Senator of the Ai

singers, instruments, and costumes at hand-and would be impossible in the country with our modest resources. I think the idea of a tent on a village green rather frightened him; and he didn't quite see the élite of his company playing in such a cadre-no déco

Abbé Maréchal undertook the music in his church, and I was sure he would succeed in having some of the choruses of Esther. His heart was quite set on it. Once he had settled our programme, the c

hen they go to the Fran?aise to see a classic piece-Roman emperors and soldiers, and vestal virgins and barbarians in chains-and to listen to their long tirades. The modern light comedy, e

second time to appreciate more fully the beauties which were lightly passed over at first), he rebelled, had a migraine, or a sore throat, something which prevented his appearing in the drawing-room

but that he couldn't on his own authority. An application must be made to the Ministère de la Guerre. There is always so much red tape in France. One writes and receives so many letters about anything one wants to do-a Christmas Tree in the school-house-a distributi

e. He was quite pleased with all that he had arranged for his church service. One of his friends, Abbé Vignon, a most interesting man and eloquent preacher, promised to deliver a lecture on Racine

to come, but I can't say I had much success. Some had gout-some had mourning.

as they have two banquets morning and evening. The "Cafe des Ruines," a dirty little place just under the great walls of the chateau, didn't look inviting; but there was literally nothing else, so we interviewed the proprietor, went in to the big room down stairs, which was perfectly impossible, reeking with smoke, and smelling of cheap liquor; but he told us he had a "très belle salle" up stairs, where we should be quite alone. We climbed up a dark, rickety little turning staircase, and

ve still kept their old-fashioned signs and names. Near May, on the road to Meaux, Bossuet's fine old cathedral town, there is a nice old square red-brick house, "L'Auberge du Veau qui Téte" (The Inn of the Sucking Calf), which certainly indicates that this is great farming country. There are quantities

in street looks really charming. The green arch is nearly finished,

little open automobile. Such a limp, draggled female as emerged from the little carriage I never saw. They had had some sharp showers; pannes (breakdowns), too

anything except in the first eight or ten rows of chairs, but it seems they will all hear. The stage was being arranged, and, much to our amusement, they told us the Empire chairs and tables had been lent by the Abbé Maréchal. He is a collectionneur, and has some handsome furniture. We inspected our tea-room, which did

nd the walls crumbling a little. We had some difficulty in collecting our party, and finally discovered Francis, Ctesse de Gontaut and Christiani having chocolate and cakes in the back

ut I still hear the click of the billiard balls, and sounds of merriment downstairs. It is a splendid starlight night, the sky quite blue over the pines. I think we shall have b

24th.

he path-the Bishop of Soissons and several other ecclesiastics in their robes, blackcoated officials, some uniforms-the whole escorted by groups of children running alongside, and a fair sprinkling of women in light dresses, with flowers on their hats, making patches of colour. The church was crowded-one didn't remark the absence of certain "esprits forts" who gloried in remaining outside-and the service was most interesting. The lecture or rather "éloge de Racine" was beautifully given by the Abbé Vignot. It was not very easy for a priest to pronounce from the pulpit an eulogium on the poet and dramatic author who had strayed so far from the paths of

rth cer

e famous "Chanteurs de St. Gervais," and part of the ch?urs d'Esther, composed by Moreau, and sung in splendid style by Mme. Jeanne Maunay, M. Vincent d'Indy accompanying on the o

n from the lower town. They are all canal hands, and mostly a very bad lot. The men generally drink-not enough to be really intoxicated (one rarely sees that in France), but enough to make them quarrelsome; and the women

ufera, who had promised to come for the Comédie and dinner. They are neighbours, and have a beautiful place not very far off-Montgobert, in the heart of the Villers-Cotteret forest. He is a descendant of Suchet, one of Napoleon's Marshals, and they have a fine picture of the Marshal in uniform, and various souvenirs of the Emperor. Francis had some difficulty in making his way through the Grande Rue which was packed with people very unw

looked in and found a good many people already in their places, and saw that the first two or three rows of red arm-chairs were being kept for the quality. One of the sights was our two tall men standing at the door of the rather dirty, dilapidated "Cafe des Ruines," piloting our friends past the groups of workmen smoking and drinking in the porch, and up the dark, rickety staircase. I don't think any one would have had the courage to go up, if Henrietta hadn't led the way-once up

bout three-quarters of an hour before the Comédie began, and when we got to the tent it was crowded-all the dignitaries-Bishop, Préfet, Senator, Deputy (he didn't object to the theatrical perfo

wo last acts of Bérénice-was enchanting. Mme. Bartet looked charming in her floating blue draperies, and was the incarnation of the resigned, poetic, loving woman; Paul Mounet was a grand, sombre, passionate Titus, torn between his love for the beautiful Queen and his duty as a Roman to choose only one of his own people to share his throne and honours. The Roman Senate was an all-powerful body, and a woman's love too slight a thing to oppose to it. Bartet was charming all through, either in her long plaintes to her Confidante, where one felt th

trois d'exem

us tendre et la

garder l'histoi

e fierce struggle bet

with the stars all over her dress." We waited a few moments, and had a little talk with them. They said the fête had interested them very much and they were very glad to have come. They were rather taken aback at first when they saw the tent, the low small stage, and the very elementary scenery-were afraid the want of space would bother them, but they soon felt that they held their audience, and that their voices carried perfectly. They were rather hurried, as they were all

a streak of light and color, filled with people moving about, and the air alive with laughter and music. Just beyond, the long stretches of green pasture lands, cut every now and then by narrow lanes with app

red, I suppose there are resources in the way of lingerie and fumoir which are available at such times, and Francis's valet de chambre is so accustomed to having more people than the house can hold that he probably took his precautions. Francis started off for the banquet a

see such a brilliant assembly. Madame Bartet was the Queen of the Fête, and sat between the Bishop and the Préfet. There were

uding Bartet, walking in the cortége, escorted by a torch-light

other, red Bengal lights throwing out splendidly