Louis XI. ended the feudal period by breaking the power of the independent barons and establishing that of royalty. The traveller from Orleans to Blois may notice to-day opposite Meung the heavy square masses of the Church of Notre Dame de Cléry. There Louis XI. built his own grave and was wont to occupy it now and then during life, though he did not rest there for many years after his death as the tomb was destroyed by the Huguenots in 1563. Entering our car, we are off and away, rattling through the narrow streets, and gliding out on to the wide high-road for Tours. It was near Tours at "Plessis-lès-Tours" that Louis XI. met the grim destroyer. I have before this fully described that Château,[3] and will pass it now. [3] In _Palaces and Prisons of Mary Queen of Scots_. G. P. Putnam's Sons: New York and London. CHAPTER XIX AUTOMOBILES IN TOURS--DEPARTURE FROM THE CITY--THE ROAD TO CHINON--ROMANCE AND HISTORY OF CHINON--THE ABBEY OF FONTEVRAULT--RICHARD COEUR DE LION AND HIS TOMB--THE DEAD KING HENRY II. A bright, sparkling morning. The courtyard in Tours is alive with men and machines and every moment someone departs until we are almost the only travellers left here, but our time comes, and Jean, seated in state on our red car, sails out of the garage and draws up at the main portico, where Yama directs the loading of our luggage, and then seats himself in great grandeur in the midst thereof. Then I am allowed to take my place, which is always by Jean's side in front, and we start off on our day's ride--not on the grand route towards Paris but away to the south-westward, to Chinon and Angers and so into Brittany. Our road lies in from the Loire and through Azay-le-Rideau to where Chinon's towers circle the hilltop like a crown dominating its ancient city and wide-spreading valley. The place above is sweet and pure, while the towers with the passing rains of many centuries, glisten white in the sunlight. [Illustration: GENERAL VIEW OF CHINON By permission of Messrs. Neurdein] Wandering up the steep ascent I clang the bell at the great entrance, kept still in good preservation. A sweet-faced little girl answers my summons and conducts me from tower to tower. There are many of them, some with dungeons under dungeons, some with one solitary oubliette; others holding chambers of state and one where the Maid slept before her departure for Tours and Orleans. But Chinon's crown to-day is one bestowed by nature. The whole hill is embowered in lilac trees, whose bending boughs brush our hats with white and pale purple blossoms and all the air is fresh and sweet with their delicate perfume so sacred to spring. Surely a fitting bloom to adorn the spot where one so pure as the Maid offered her life and service to her country.