CHAPTER XLV.
Castelnau! This ancient name brings to me visions of glorious sunshine
and of clear light shining upon noble heights; it evokes the gentle
melancholy that I felt among its ruins, and recalls to me my dreams
before the dead splendors buried there for so many centuries.
The old ruin of Castelnau was perched on one of the most heavily
wooded mountains in the neighborhood, and its reddish stone turrets
and towers stood out boldly against the sky.
By looking over and beyond the wall surrounding my uncle's garden I
could see the ancient castle. Indeed, it was a conspicuous point in
the landscape, and one immediately saw its rough red stones emerging
from the interlaced trees; one instantly noted the ancient ruin
crowning the mountain all overgrown with the beautiful verdure of
chestnut and oak trees.
Upon the day of my arrival I had caught a glimpse of it, and I was
attracted by this old eagle's nest which must have been a superb place
of refuge during the stormy middle ages. It was a common custom in my
uncle's family to go up there two or three times a month to dine and
pass the afternoon with the proprietor, an old clergyman, who lived in
a comfortable house built against one side of the ruin.
For me those days were like a revel in fairy land.
We started very early in the morning so that we should be beyond the
plains before the hottest period of the day. When we arrived at the
foot of the mountain we were refreshed by the cool shade of the
forest, enveloped in its mantle of beautiful green. As we went up and
up, by zig-zag paths, afoot, and in single file, under lofty arching
oaks and intertwined foliage our line of march resembled a huge
serpent. I was reminded of Gustave Dore's engravings of mediaeval
pilgrims making their way to isolated abbeys perched on mountain
heights. Tiny springs oozed out here and there and trickled across the
red earth; between the trees we had momentary glimpses of beautiful
and extensive vistas. At last we reached the summit, and after passing
through the very quaint village that had perched on this height for
many centuries, we rang the bell at the priest's tiny door. The castle
overhung his miniature garden and house; both were built under the
shadow of the crumbling walls and the sinking, almost tottering, red
stone towers. A great peace seemed to emanate from those aerie ruins,
and a deep silence reigned there.
The dinners given by the old priest, to which several of the
notabilities of the neighborhood were invited, always lasted very
long. The ten or fifteen courses had an accompaniment of the ripest
fruits and the choicest wines of that country so excelling in
exquisite vintages.
For several hours we remained at the table afflicted by the August or
September midday heat, and I, the only child in the company, became
very restless; I was disturbed by the thought of the crushing nearness
of the castle, and after the second course I would ask to be permitted
to leave the table. An old serving-woman used always to go with me and
open the outer door in the wall of the feudal ramparts of Castelnau;
then she confided the keys of the stately ruin to me, and I plunged
alone, with a delicious feeling of fear, into the familiar path, and
passed through the gate of the drawbridge superposed on the ramparts.
There I might remain for an hour or two sure of not being disturbed; I
was at liberty to wander about in that labyrinth, and I was master in
the majestic but sad domain. Oh! the sweet memory of the reveries that
I have had there! . . . First I would make a tour about the terraces
overhanging the forest lying below; a panorama infinitely beautiful
unrolled itself to my sight; rivers winding here and there in the
distance looked like streams of silver; and, aided by the clear and
limpid summer atmosphere, I could see almost as far as the neighboring
provinces. A great calm pervaded this sequestered corner of France; no
line of railway penetrated it; and in consequence, it led a life
entirely apart from the big world, a life such as it had known in the
good old time.
After visiting the terraces I would go into the ruined interior, into
the courts, up the stairways and through the empty galleries. I
climbed to the old towers and put to flight flocks of pigeons, and
disturbed the sleep of bats and owls. On the first floor there was a
suite of spacious rooms, still roofed over, and very dark because of
the shuttered windows. I penetrated into these chambers, and I felt an
almost delicious terror when I heard my footsteps echoing through the
sepulchral stillness of the place. Then I would pass in review before
the strange Gothic paintings and the half-effaced frescoes that still
retained traces of gilt ornamentation; the fabled monsters and
garlands of impossible flowers had been added at the time of the
Renaissance. This magnificent, pictured past, fantastic and barbarous
to the point of being terrible, seemed to me, at that time, very vague
and dim and distant; I could not realize that it had been lighted up
by the same midday sunshine that warmed the red stones of the ruins
about me. And now that I am better able to estimate Castelnau, when I
recall it to my memory, after having seen most of the splendors of
this earth, I still think the enchanted castle of my childhood, as it
stands upon its glorious height, one of the most superb ruins of
mediaeval France.
In one of the towers there was a room whose ceiling was painted a
royal blue over-strewn with exquisite gold tracery and blazonry. In no
place have I realized feudalism so well as in that tower. There alone,
in the silence as of a city of the dead, I would lean out of the
little window cut in the thick wall and contemplate the green verdure
lying below me, and I tried to imagine that I saw coming along the
paths, given over to the flight of birds, a cavalcade of soldiers, or
a procession of noble knights and ladies. . . . And, for me, reared in
a level country, one of the greatest charms of the place was the view
I had of blue distances visible from every loophole and crevice, every
gap and opening in the rooms and towers of Castelnau, for then I
realized its extraordinary height.
