h
he breathed his last, is still shewn with great veneration. There is a
tradition that he was killed in a duel by the Prince of Conti, and that
his death was concealed. The Marshal lived here in great state; he had a
regiment of 1500 horse, the barracks of which are in the immediate
vicinity of the castle. The apartments which he occupied are in very
good taste; the ceilings are arched, and the proportions are excellent.
In one of the rooms is an admirable picture of Louis the Fourteenth on
horseback. The spiral staircase is a contrivance which it is impossible
to explain; it is so managed, as to contain two distinct staircases in
one, so that people may go up and down at the same time, without seeing
each other. The apartments are said to exceed twelve hundred.

This castle was the favourite residence of Francis the First, and it was
here that he so magnificently received and entertained the Emperor
Charles the Fifth. Francis the First was in every respect a true French
Knight; gallant, magnificent, and religious in the extreme. There was
formerly a pane of glass in one of the windows of this chateau, on which
Francis the First had written the two following lines;

Toute Femme varie,
Mal Habil qui s'y fie.

This glass is now lost, and I transcribe the verses from a detailed
description of this chateau published at Paris. The castle has been
deserted since the death of Louis the Fourteenth. This monarch used
occasionally to hunt in its forests, but never made it a permanent
residence.

We proposed to sleep at St. Laurence on the Waters, a beautiful village
on the high road to Orleans, and distant about twelve miles from
Chambord. It was evening before we left the castle, and the moon, though
not at the full, had risen, before we had performed the half our road.
Nothing could be more picturesque than the scenery, as now half
illuminated and half shaded. The cottage gardens looked like so many
fairy scenes. The peasant girls looking out of their windows, as they
were going to bed, added much to our mirth; and more particularly, as
our carriage was on a level with their windows. Whether the moon suited
their complexions better than the sun, or that they were different
individuals from those we had passed in the morning, I know not, but so
much I can say, that they appeared to me more delicate and beautiful.
One girl had the face of an angel: it is still imprinted on my mind, and
were I a painter, I could exhibit