xt7rn872zk88_1 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7rn872zk88/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7rn872zk88/data/2009ms132.1161.dao.xml Randall, Clarence B. (Clarence Belden), 1891-1967 0.09 Cubic Feet 1 folder archival material 2009ms132.1161 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Wade Hall Collection of American Letters: Clarence B. Randall travel diary Clarence B. Randall travel diary text Clarence B. Randall travel diary 2024 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7rn872zk88/data/2009ms132.1161/Box_wh_174/Folder_3/Multipage1.pdf 1930-1936 1936 1930-1936 section false xt7rn872zk88_1 xt7rn872zk88 4... Six}... x,

 

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 WE WENT ABROAD IN 1950

For the average American who works for a
living, going abroad is one of the big adventures of
a lifetime and it was in that spirit that we left
Chicago. And yet we had thought very little about it.
Life in Winnetka and at the office had been so breath-
less that we had found no time for planning whatever,
and when the Century began to move, leaving Tom and
Beckey waving to us from the platform, we could hardly
believe that we actually had six weeks ahead of us in
which to do exactly what we pleased.

We spent a very happy family Sunday in Wor—
cester with the Websters and my father and mother, and
a delightful Monday evening in New York with Mead and
Patty Rogers, dining at the Biltmore and seeing Lily
Damita and Jack Donahue in "Sons O'Guns". Tuesday
afternoon found us at the ball game where the Braves
beat the Giants in ten innings, but there was no time
for a show that evening. We couldn’t afford to be
late for a midnight sailing from lower Brooklyn.

So after dinner we loaded everything into a
car and started for the "Bremen". I had never seen
lower New York at that time of night, and was fasci-
nated by the skyline as we crossed Brooklyn bridge.
At the boat there was great stir and animation, with
crowds of friends flowing on and off to say goodbye
to the passengers. We felt just a little bit lost in
it all until we reached our stateroom, and then what
a glorious surprise we had. To begin with, our trunk
was there, but we hardly noticed it for everywhere
there was such a profusion of flowers, candy, fruit,
books, and messages that it completely took our breath
away. I don't know how long it took us to open all
the packages, and letters, and telegrams, but it was
just like Christmas, and made our friends seem very
close to us.

Sailing was delayed too late for us to

wait up, so we turned in, and next morning when we
came on deck we were far out at sea. The Bremen was
a great ship, a little too severe and modern as to
interior decoration to suit our tastes, but afford-
ing the last word in service. The dining room was
wonderful, everything that your own imagination or
that of the chef could devise was available to tickle
your palate, the room itself was bright and cheerful

 

 -2-

and three deft German boys hovered over us constantly.
The passenger list was very light, and nothing was
ever hurried or crowded. We loved the orchestra,
which gave two classical concerts each afternoon and
one in the evening, besides playing for dancing later.
It was simply paradise to sink into a deep chair in
the lounge, sip a cup of tea, and listen to that music.

One of the big thrills of the trip came the
morning of the day before we landed, when we hurried
up to the top deck by eight o'clock (an unheard of
hour on ship) to see the big catapult toss a sea plane
into the air with two flyers who were carrying the ad-
vance mail to Southampton and Amsterdam. In the after-
noon we began to see French fishing boats and knew
that our voyage was nearly ov r.

n 1 "' "
553;]...“22

As I came on deck and saw the shoreline at
Cherbourg, I remembered how good it looked the night
after we crossed the Channel during the war. Our pass-
ports were examined on the ship, and we went on board,
the tender having some qualms as to whether we would
ever see our baggage again. But almost as if by magic
the man from the Bowman-Biltmore Travel Bureau came up
to us, inquired if our baggage didn't have green stripes
on it, and said it was already set aside for us. At the
deck the customs took but a few minutes, and in no time
at all we were all packed comfortably in a big Minerva
car which was waiting for us outside.

It was a day of brilliant sunshine, coming
after many days of rain in France. What a thrill as
we left Cherbourg behind, and started down the winding
narrow roads and through the tiny villages of Normandy.
Our route took us immediately off the beaten track of
the tourists, and we saw the Norman peasant life at
first hand. We lunched at Granville, a not very attrac—
tive summer resort on the sea, which was not yet in sea—
son, and were jolted back into reality rather unpleasant-
ly when the waiter said he had spent several years at the
Congress Hotel in Chicago. We stopped for a few minutes
at Coutances to admire the Cathedral which is supposed
to have such a pure Gothic design, and found in process
before it a typical peasant market day. It was fun to
walk round among the people and feel that not another
foreigner was there to spoil it. We were even enter-
tained by a brisk fist fight between the owners of ad-
joining booths. By the middle of the afternoon we
reached Mont St. Michel, and spent an exhausting two

\ mans :

 

 -5-

hours climbing to the top of this marvelous storehouse
of mediaeval lore which rises out of the very ocean it—
self. The guides spoke only French, and my ears were
extremely clumsy after so many years of hearing no
French spoken, As we set off again our frail human
nature had the best of us. It was warm, we had a poor
night’s sleep, tie stairs at Mont St. Michel were count—
less, and although we had come thousands of miles to
see this beautiful country—side we simply couldn’t stay
awake in the car. As we drove solemnly into its Halo
where we were to spend the night the people must have
thought the chauffeur had drugged his passengers. But
the evening by the sea was lovely. St. Malo is one of
the few completely walled towns, and in the twilight
we walked all the way round on top of the ramparts.
21

I shall never forget those lush green fields
on the ride toward Paris. It has been a wonderful
growing spring in France, and the fields were magni-
ficent. And so full of color. In Normandy and Brittany
they grow a dark red flower (in the rest of France it
is the poppy) with the grain that the cattle are to eat
green. Then the cows are staked out separately by chains
attached to pegs driven in the ground, so that each day
as the peg is moved forward the cow takes another bite
into the field. And in the villages there was the most
wonderful profusion of roses and flowers of every hue.
And in the air occasionally the scent of the apple
blossoms. Never before have I been made happy by a
puncture, but while the chauffeur wrestled with the
tire, we walked on ahead, listening to the birds and
drinking in the sights and smells of the growing fields.

We lunched at Alencon and spent an interest-
ing half hour in a lace establishment, where the pro—
prietor expounded in voluble French the mysteries of
"point d‘Alencon", and bemoaned the passing of a lost
art.

At seven that evening we were in Paris, and
found a comfortable room waiting for us at the Pont
Royal Hotel (Rue du Bac). We had made no decision as
to a hotel until we met the Bowman—Biltmore man at
Cherbourg. Being on the left bank we went down to
Chez Rousier for dinner, and ate an excellent dinner
amid all the commotion of a French side—walk cafe.
Then we drove over to Place de la Concorde, and walked
up the boulevards as far as the Cafe de la Paix where
we fulfilled the traditions by watching the world go

 

 -4-

by. We thought it was rather a sordid world that
night so we went home and to bed.

2_8

Our first thought in the morning was mail, so
we tore over to the Bowman—Biltmore at 2 Rue de la Paix,
and what a jolt that was. A whole handful of cables
from Tom Hearne, and Father Phelps, and Mr. Block to the
effect that Kandy had scarlet fever and was in the Evan—
ston H0spital_ tut at the same time reassuring us that
it was a light case without complications. I will pass
over the next few minutes which were pretty unhappy, but
suffice it to say that eventually we convinced ourselves
that the only sensible thing to do was to go ahead with
our plans.

By way of getting the feel of Paris, we hopped
in a taxi and drove out to the Etoile where we made our
pilgrimage to the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Then
down the Champs Elysncs» to the Grand Palais where we
visited the Current Salon. I think that what we liked
best was a portrait of a young woman by Ehrlinger. Then
to Volney's for lunch, which was one of the most charm—
ing places we were in anywhere. In the afternoon we
drove out through the Bois to the tennis matches in
Le Stade Roland Garros. We arrived just as Miss Mudford
of England was giving Helen Wills a stiff tussle, and
stayed to see Tilden paired with Cilly Aussem of Germany,
beat Cochet and Eileen Bennett of England for the mixed
doubles championship.

Then on to Pre Catalan in the Ecix for tea,
where we saw our first gigolos in action. They were
the acme of courtesy as they asked the various ladies
to dance, and as I watched the intricate steps of the
tango I could understand how the tired business man
might be very enthusiastic about them as an institution.

In the evening we did the Folies-Bergeres,
and in spite of the costumes or lack thereof it is a
great show. Afterwards we felt obliged to do the Mont—
martre, so we climbed in a taxi, and conjuring up the
dim past of nine and of twelve years ago, I said to the
driver "Zelis". He started, but every few blocks
turned round to sputter, and finally lied very convinc-
ingly and said that Zeli's was closed. He thereupon
took charge of us and delivered us to "Esmeralda", a
new night club that had been open less than a month.
It was small and expensive, but charming. A Tsigane
orchestra from Bohemia, one of whom played a strange

 

 -5-

horizontal harp with little hammers, the name of which
sounded like cymbaliste. They assured us there were only
three such artists in the world. We were slow to begin
dancing, and when finally we left our table the leader

of the orchestra stopped everything for an instant and
said in English "At last". Then came Emily's big thrill,
when one of the gigolos came over and danced with her
very charmingly. He asked her if she knew a certain
piano player in Racine.

g3

My first business on getting up was to bar—
gain for the car that was to take us on our trip later,
for I felt sure I could beat the arrangement we had made
from home on our first car. The concierge at the hotel
gets a commission on all such arrangements that are made
through him, so in no time he had several cars outside.
Business was poor and they fought for our patronage. We
selected a large Voisin limousine, and I drove him down
to 5.25 francs a kilometre with 2.00 francs on the return
if we dismissed him outside of Paris and 60 francs a day
for his board, which was, of course, expensive enough, but
which the Bowman—Biltmore said was lower than they could do.

We then set out for a ride around Paris in a
smaller car, and found that it was Ascension Day, with
all Paris making holiday. The various drives in the Bois
were a brilliant scene of color, with fashionable cars
flashing by, horseback riders on the bridle paths, and
everywhere family picnics. We lunched at Laurent, and
then strolled through the holiday crowds around the
lower end of the Champs Elysees. There were booths for
stamp collectors doing a rushing business, puppet shows,
goat carts and donkeys for children, and everywhere an
orderly happy crowd. We took a taxi up to the Sacre
Coeur Church, but it was thronged with people attending
services, and we decided not to intrude. After a nap
at the hotel, we went down to Notre Dame, but found it
closed for the holiday. Nevertheless, we strolled around
admiring its external beauties in the late afternoon sun-
shine, and walked back along the left bank of the Seine
past the book—stalls.

For the evening we had decided to dine at the
fashionable "Des Ambassadeurs", and in order to demon—
strate how much at home we were in such places, we delayed
our arrival until 8:40. To our dismay we found only one
table occupied when we were seated. But by half past ten
things were in full swing. It was only the second night
after the Spring Opening, and it was a gay scene. First
we had a concert orchestra who played classical music,

 

 _5_

then when dancing began a negro jazz orchestra (led by
Sissle) and a South American band alternated so that
the music was continuous. Sandwiched in was a bully
floor show. Near us was a large table of charming
young Parisian men and women, and their dancing was so
graceful and had so many trick steps both in the tango
and the one—step that I felt as though I belonged back
in the Middle Ages. At last we left, and followed what
became our standard practice in Paris, — a drive in an
open taxi out to the Arc de Triomphe at the Etoile and
back down the Champs Elysees before retiring.

_s__c

We retraced our steps to Notre Dame, and went
in without a guide. In one of those sacred places I
cannot endure to have a guide pattering a jargon of dates
in my ear, when what I want is the feeling of it. It is
enough for me just to look up, and let the dignity and
the beauty of it all soak in. Nothing else that I have
ever done makes me feel just the same. We did not see
the Treasury, as it was closed, which was probably all
right as later an American had @2000 in checks stolen
while he was in there. It began to rain, but it was
not far to Sainte Chapelle which is,of course, a gem,
and this being more of a curiosity, I resumed my inter—
est in people, and I enjoyed hugely the chattering French
guide. Emily was forever thinking up strange questions
for me to ask, which put my French under terrific strain,
and frequently resulted in explosive situations.

It was Memorial Day, and we had set our hearts
on being present for the American ceremony at the tomb
of the Unknown Soldier, but two unfortunate things hap-
pened. The first was a sudden downpour of rain, and
the second a traffic jam such as only Paris can produce,
so that when we finally arrived it was all over. Never—
theless, we felt better to stand there for a moment with
bowed heads before the eternal flame in the presence of
the fresh wreaths. We were thinking of Winnetka, know—
ing that Mandy would not be able to march, and wondering
whether Mary would be out of quarantine in time.

We had lunch at Cafe Anglais, and did a bit
of shopping afterward. Then we took a car and drove
out of the city to visit Le Bourget, the great French
airport, where you can take a plane to most any place
in the world on short notice. Coming back we were over—
whelmed by a cloud-burst of rain and hail, and the driver
couldn‘t get the top quite shut, so that he and we huddled
and giggled together inside under the good part of the
roof until it ended and the sun came out just as suddenly.

 

 -7-

Stopping at the interesting church of St. Denis made
us late, and we had dinner at the hotel before going
to a strictly French revue, the Concert M3301. The
star was a very good female impersonator.

g1

Wha t wes left of the morning after breakfast
went quick :ly in buying a big suitcase and ms king ar-
rangements for our motor trip. We lunched at Le nger.

Then came tho Louvre, end though I went
somewhat out of duty, it stands out clearly in my mind
as one of the most sstisfying things thnt we did. To
begin with we had an excellent guide who divided our
available time among the more important things s, and
talked most intelligently. Of course, I liked the Venus
de Mile, and the Winged Victory, end the Rubens and the
Millets, but the Mona Lisa completely fescinnted me.
Beside the pninting stood a completed copy that another
artist had made, which seemed lifeless and ordinary com—
pared with the original. I don't know what great art
is, but it is certainly different.

‘ee at Tierem Boyerd, 58 Rue do Berri, a
Russian place carried on by some titled rofud cos, where
I bought Emily so no 18th Century earrings. When I went
back after them from the hotel she thought I was out
buying oranges.

Dinier at Foyot's on the left bank. The menu:
duck, (with orhnge sauce), souffle potatoes, and crepes
suzettes. I thought Emily would never stop asking for
more of this delecte ble dessert. After dinner we strolled

through the bright lights of the Montprrnasse district,
pas t the notorious Dome, Dotonde, Select, Coupole, and
Jungle restaurants. We are too old for such places and
went home to bed.

June I

We slept late, lounged in our room, wrote
letters and packed. Lunch at the hotel was made memor-
able by "gnocchi romaine", a marvelous concoction of
semelenu, eggs, and cheese.

93
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Then we took a oer and drove out for 3y
afternoon at Versailles, it being the monthly festival
of the fountains. We did the p: see first and r‘3eche d

he gardens just as the waters were turned on. They
only last forty minutes so that our luck was with us.

 

 The enormous gnrde-s ere orov vded to capao
Fre noh people who intere ested us as much Cs
tCiho. l was intrigued CV the humoer of d
names that huokslers could think of for Est"m
1n Fre: on.

Ye set out to walk thrcugh the gs

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u t Ci C 30111:, e1CC who had 3
fteruoon loo okihg for the main chateau.

the Pavillon Henry IV at
eat of food and e Corgeo1s
C a 1th the Seir Le RLver

 

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We found our Vo1s:” A ' 3 , *“ortahle and
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of the Pres1oeft1 1 summer
LnK, 1113e1C>st13 r :zftzez: o q: "
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ssei the Chgt eu oe NCLCte hon, w1gon set
C edeht 1n the way of a love 3 3t fit Ohe t1me.

    

 

rcwde- up SC close heo ween torn
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Lu“ LL LVLU L tC Ce* ‘h xoellert V1e2 Cf
tCe Venous Jest Fortrl end the 1Cvers. hifh he? usufil
foo: taste, Emily p:1oL ed the pure Coth1e es the tore
teCut1ful o e two torels, . o ploo1ug herself 1n

 

 

th the best art 1C if”. of the co tur1es.
1nside to found that a ed11ug “CC 1h pro-
oeos 3h1ch we watched eat itferest, 1Colud1h1
C r reception Ct the oozolUC 101 of the
ecess1ohfl 11£?Lh, le( by q 03:11111 1h '
CDC mule ho olehked his staff Cen1od1c lly on t
floor that the crowd should g1ve way, and who 1; , 1
l1fe. Then we were free to maCder CEO‘md
: the beCutiful proport1ons, erd : 5
253. At last we tee shed the Choir an
ook at the old glass in the Ween
L yle R1 at ‘3eC11t1111l 111inff I saw: 1
us 1ree of Jes,e LCOM’ The Clue 01

 

W

 

 

 

 -9-

with the light coming through from the outside haunted
me for days, and it was all I could do to bring myself
to leave the Cathedral.

We lunched most delightfully at a small
restaurant called "Lhomme" at El Rue du Soleil d'Or, where
we had enormous strawberries.

We pushed on to Blois, and having established
ourselves at the Hotel D'Angleterre with a window over-
looking the Loire, which was swollen with recent rains,
we hurried out to the Chateau of Chambord, the largest
of all the Chateaux I should imagine. Emily enjoyed it
tremendously, but I was a bit depressed by the fact that
when I saw it before the beautiful park was well kept up,
but had now gone badly to seed. France hasn't the money
to maintain so many historic monuments.

We drove then to Chateau Cheverney, but our
time was short and it didn’t look impressive, so we
didn't stop. The guide book says its chief distinction
is the furniture inside.

We raced back to Blcis just in time to get
inside the Chateau before it closed, but after a cer—
tain transaction the French guide was very amiable, and
we had abundant leisure to see the oubliettes and the
poison chambers and act out to our own satisfaction the
murder of the Euc de Guise.

5rd

l snan't forget my first waking moments at
Blois. I roused instantly out of a sound sleep with
full comprehension that I was listening to something
that once was so familiar but which had passed out of
my life entirely since l9l8,- the quick rhythm of iron
shod shoes on cobble—stones. I jumped to the Window
and there was a column of French infantry, fully armed,
on its way to the drill field. No other troops march
with as quick a step as the French, and once heard it is
never forgotten.

As we left the hotel for a short stroll before
starting out again, we saw six small canoes, with double—
bladed paddles, each containing two young men having a
great trip down the swift Loire. I tried to find the
statue of Jeanne D’Arc, the dedication of which I wit-
nessed in l92l, but it is in the Bishop’s garden and not
open to the public.

 

 ~iO-

Our drive along the river was beautiful -
the deep green of the fields still dotted with poppies.
Soon on the other side we saw the majestic towers of the
Chateau of Chaumont looking down from the hillside.

At Amboise we stopped and went carefully
through the whole chateau. Its position alone would
make it im regnable, as it is perched high on the rocks
comranding the Loire in each direction, but no pains had
been spared to place at each strategic point on the ram-
parts a jolly little hole for ladling out boiling pitch.
Entirely self-contained inside is a winding ramp by which
my noble lords could ride their chargers right up to the
top, and hard by was a granary which would hold enough
wheat or semelena to withstand the longest of sieges quite
stoutly.

Then to henonceau, the finest of all the Cha—
teaux according to our way of thinking. Thanks to the
solvency of its present owner, Menier, the chocolate tycoon,
the grounds are lovely, and the furniture inside is com-
plete and original. You see it first down a long avenue
of plane trees, and as you come nearer you find it cem-
pletely astride the Cher River. Then you cross the draw—
bridge and wander through the rooms which are filled with
tapestries, paintings, furniture and interesting things.
Chambord was stark and bare, but this looked intensely
human.

Being now quite drunk with Chateau—mania, we
drove down to Loches and saw both he Chateau and the
Chapel of St. Ours, but it didn’t impress either of us
particularly. We lunched there quite inconspicuously.

Then toward Bourges, passing with splendid
self—control the smaller Chateaux of Montresor and Valan—

ay which might well repay a look sometime. We pulled up
before the Hotel D’Angleterre in Bourges, where in 1918

I waited outside while General Dugan banqueted within with
an impcessively large group of American Generals, and were
shown up to a room bearing a tablet to the effect that in
1912 it had been occupied by the Prince of Vales. In spite
of this impressive tradition Emily thought that the hotel
left something to be desired.

The home of Jacques Coeur, which I had found
so interesting in 1918, was unfortunately closed for the day.

4th
We left hurriedly,with not over ten minutes to

devote to the fine Bourges cathedral. It is of the period
just following Notre Dame, and its five portals in the

 

 -11-

broad western entrance, its old glass, and its general
feeling are all too impressive to be dealt with as sum—
marily as we were compelled to.

I was hardly myself, however, for were we
not setting out to revisit the old familiar scenes of
my first billeting area in France? We doubled back from
Bourges toward Sancerre, along the sky—line of the plateau.
The visibility was not of the best, but when our car
climbed laboriously up to the tiny park by the crumbling
old chateau which is the very peak of the rock on which
Sancerre is built, I revelled again in the wonderful panora-
ma which is spread out below, with the Loire winding be-
tween the picturesque fields.

Then the big thrill. We set out for the Chateau
of Peseau. Coming at it by an unfamiliar road, I am stupid
about finding it, and none of the maps or guide books refer
to it. At last we see the gate and stop, wondering whe-
ther the Count is in residence, and hoping he isn’t. A
young woman leans from a window in the gate-keeper's lodge.
Gabriel walks over and inquires whether we may see the
Chateau. He gets a very frigid reception. I am by this
time out of the car and under the window, hat in hand.

I beg a thousand pardons and explain that I was billeted
in the chateau during the war. The effect is electric.
She chatters something about M. Berthout. I ask excitedly
if he is still the regisseur (estate manager), and am de—
lighted to find that he is. She tells us to go right in.

The main drive has obviously not been used for
some time, so We take the one to the left leading to the
servant quarters. We stop in the old courtyard behind the
chateau, and a woman looks out from a kitchen in surprise.
I say my magic formula to her and she becomes equally ex—
cited. She says she was not there during the war but that
she has heard a great deal about the Americans. She leads
me over to Madame Borthout, where I find to my distress
that he is absent in one of the villages. They suggest that
I see Madame Basil. I, of course, inquire for Basil, the
old butler, and find that he died only two months before.

Madame Basil is dressing, and doesn't understand
exactly what tie stir is all about. While we wait for her,
Emily and I stroll over into the park and admire the cha-
teau from across the meat. I tell her about the night
Herb Brown and I put the Count‘s Canadian canoe into the
meat and paddled solemnly round it. I show her where the
airplanes landed in the park during the big storm, and
where the tennis court was on which we worked so hard but
on which we never played.

 

 -12-

Now we are again in front of Madame Basil’s
door. She opens it, and a look of astonishment comes
over her lovely little old face as she exclaims, "It
can‘t be Lieutenant Randall,- and his wife!" And then
while I am trying to collect my thoughts in French, she
asks "How is your little baby girl," for she remembers
the cablegram I had at the Chateau telling about Mary.

She and I are both too excited to know what we
are saying, but she knows that I want to show Emily the
chateau. She takes down her large bunch of keys and we
go inside, visiting both wings room by room. Scores of
memories come flooding back to me. We hear a heavy step
on the stair, and I look round. It is Berthout. He has
come back for something, and they have told him we are
there. He says "Little did I expect when I came back
this morning to see Lieutenant Randall." He is still
tall and vigorous looking but his hair is gray. Madame
Basil has been asking me for the name of our cook, and
I stupidly can't think of it, in spite of his long ser-
vice at the Marquette Club. Berthout says "Vertefeuille"
and then I remember that his name was Greenleaf.

And so the precious minutes run on. I hate to
go but I know that we have a long day ahead of us. Ber-
thout asks if we would do.him the honor of coming into
his cottage for a few minutes. We sit rather stiffly
down in his little parlor, and chat about the old days.
I learn to my satisfaction that no other Americans were
ever there.

Berthout brings out a bottle of white wine, and
as we are sipping it in ceremonial fashion, I say, "Ber—
thout, do you remember in 1918 when you had no men to har—
vest the grape crop that we turned out our detachment, and
they made the wine for you?" And then to my complete
amazement he replies with all the pride of a Frenchman
doing the highest act of hospitality which he knows, "This
is the last bottle of that wine." All the years he had
saved it in the hope that some such occasion would come.

We leave, with the most cordial of an revoirs,
and to please Berthout we drive out by the winding main
avenue, just as we used to.

And for the rest of hat day Emily heard little
from me but reminiscences.

We drove down along the Loire through Pcuilly,
our old divisional headquarters, and had a good lunch at
the de la France in Nevers. We then started rapidl east—
ward and passed through some beautifully high rolling
country between the Ioire and the Saone valleys. All

 

 -15...

afternoon the cattle in the fields were of a creamy white
variety such as we had never seen. As we approached Bourg-
en—Bresse, where we were to spend the night, we drove for
miles along a straight road between sweet smelling fields
of freshly cut hay, which were dotted with carts drawn

by enormous white oxen.

At Bourg we spent a very comfortable night at
the de la France. In the evening, we walked up the
street a way, following the crowd, and found Hagenbeck's
circus in full swing.

5th

We were soon in the French Alps, following the
valley of the Rhone. We all stared so hard at a castle
perched high on the rocks that we lost our way. In due
course, however, the intense blue-green of Lao du Bourget,
with its background of mountains, came in sight, and by
lunch time we were comfortably settled in the Grand Hotel
D'Aix, at Aix—les—Bains.

The afternoon was a comedy of errors. We saw
a horse—drawn Victoria, and hailed it in great glee to
make a tour of the town. The old driver was a scream.
He explained that the town wasn't very big but that he
could show it all to us. We had gone about a block when
it began to sprinkle. I told the driver it looked like
rain, but he clucked to his horse, jerked on the reins,
and assured us that it was just "two drops, two drops ".
The more it sprinkled, the more he muttered in French
"two drops", and the faster he made the horse go. Finally,
when it began to rain hard, I made him stop and flop the
top down over us, after which we rode serenely round un-
able to see a solitary thing. But by now, a new catas-
trophe had overtaken us. Cur close proximity to the
horse had started up Emily’s hay fever, and between our
giggles and her sneezes, we had to give it all up as a
bad job. Then the rain stopped, and we set out to walk
to the lake, but were exhausted before we reached it, and
crawled back to the hotel.

We had dinner in the hotel's cafe "Des Ambassa-
deurs," where the orchestra played "Showboat" until the
leader bowed low and asked Emily to name a selection and
she asked for "Butterfly". Then we strolled in the park
until bedtime.

It should be said that we saw practically no
Americans on all our travels outside of Paris, and that
wherever we went business was so poor that we were wel-
comed like the first robins of spring. We opened more
restaurants and places of amusement than even the Prince
of Wales has done.

 

 -14-

93.12
Off for Chamonix and Mont Blanc. As we

drove through Annecy with its beautiful lake and moun-
tain peaks spotted with occasional snow we thought of
the Ballards who made it their home last summer. It
was a day of bright sunshine, and everywhere you looked
was a picture. We stopped by the road near a silvery
cascade that was fed by unseen snows above, and EMily

picked a dozen different varieties of wildflowers in as
many minutes.

We were climbing steadily and toward noon we
caught our first glimpse of the Mont Blanc range with its
many ice covered peaks rising nearly 15,000 feet high.

It looked like a lot of Alps all in one place, and the
valley we were following was extremely narrow by comparison.

Chamonix was a beautiful spot, and we had a
fine lunch at the ritzy Hotel Majestic. There was only
one other table occupied in the entire dining room, and

as usual we found that the hotel had opened only the day
before.

We dozed in the garden until two, and then em-
barked on our adventurous voyage in the teleferique, which
is a fancy name for a cable car that swings dizzily in
space, and takes you up from the starting elevation of
1100 metres to 2000 metres (1—1/4 miles). It was a gor—
geous View that spread in every direction from the point
where we stopped, and we realized later that the big Mer
de Glace Glacier across from us was on the Italian border.

We came home by Feverges, Flumet, and Ugines,-
a breathtaking ride which winds for miles around sharp
corners following a deep gorge down which was flowing
a noisy mountain stream. The mounta