Burgundy: The Splendid Duchy. Stories and Sketches in South BurgundyAllen, Percy
History
Burgundy: The Splendid Duchy. Stories and Sketches in South Burgundy
Allen, Percy
Burgundy (France) -- Description and travel
Burgundian Ox-cart 258
In Rural Burgundy 261
Junction of Rivers Doubs and Saône 261
Oxen ploughing Facing 264
Burgundian Cottage 267
Château de Moux 270
Nantua and the Lake 272
Nantua from the Hill 274
Princess Margaret's Tomb 276
Bourg; in the Street 278
Eglise de Brou: Ste. Madeleine from the Tomb of Marguerite
d'Autriche 287
Eglise de Brou: Ornament from the Tomb of Marguerite d'Autriche 290
Princess Marguerite d'Autriche 292
Sketch Map of South Burgundy 293
[Illustration: Heading, chapter I]
CHAPTER I
BENEATH THE MOUNT
We had expected quiet, rural times in this far-away village of
St.-Léger-sous-Beuvray; but I doubt whether we shall get them. The
village green in front of the Hotel du Morvan shows signs of unusual
animation; it is dotted with carts, which are discharging tent-poles,
canvas, golden cars, and other paraphernalia of a country festival;
and, surer sign still, through the door of an open shed, I can see
hanging, headless and lamentable, the gaping corpse of a fatted calf.
Yes! there is his tawny countenance and two mild eyes looking down,
like those of a martyred saint, from the cruel hook. The odour of him,
wafted in succulent puffs, from the dead-house door, has cheered with
a splendid hope half the dogs in the village, and awakened from torpor
two ancient hounds, who prowl, almost youthfully, sniffing fragrant
memories in the air.
"What is going to happen?" I asked the landlord, who was sharpening
tools on a bench.
"'Tis the Louée, Monsieur, the hiring that takes place every year. All
in the neighbourhood who want farm-hands, or domestic servants, and
those who want places, come to-morrow morning and make bargains. And
the Directeur of Enfants Assistés (Foundlings) is coming, too; he is to
stop here at my hotel, and so his children get work."
We were up early the next morning. Only deaf men, or dead ones, sleep
through a Louée. There came to us in our bedroom, with the sunshine, an
indescribable babel of sounds--babble of voices, braying of trumpets,
banging of drums. To a Londoner, strange methods of doing business!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account