The Loire Valley, like a pearl drops down from heaven, and falls on the western part of France. On its banks, scattered historic châteaux and vineyards with grapes shimmering under the sun. The destination of our journey - Château du Lude –situated at the north end of the valley.
The history of The Lude can be traced back to 1000 years ago. In the 10th century, when Gilles de Rais (or ‘Bluebeard’, as known by the most) marched his way to join Joan of Arc, he came and besieged The Lude, which was then a fortress. In the Renaissance era, the Daillon family become its new owner. The Daillons had close links with French kings, traces of the glorious past can still be found in this chateau.
About 260 years ago, this chateau became the property of the de Nicolaÿ family. Now, Count and Countess Louis de Nicolaÿ are living in Château du Lude. The countess, Madam Barbara loves everything in the chateau that reminds one of the French Renaissance: the fireplace in the dining room, the wood panels in the bedroom…they are exquisite, and bizarre at the same time.
We felt her, at the moment when the windows in the Henri IV bedroom opened: sunshine came through, with all the memories from the past. Paintings on the wall, porcelain on the shelves, and all things in the room came alive, as if awaken from eternal slumber.
Walking through the rooms was remarkably impressive, the Gobelins tapestry in the salon, the frescoes by Raphael school artists in the drawing room…arts from the past five centuries accumulated here, witnessed all the ups and downs of the family. Following the Renaissance, Baroque and Rococo artists had also added layers of romance and charm to the chateau.
The countess knows how to keep a chateau alive. Tradition and heritage guarded by these walls are crucial. Like the count and countess, for those who still lives in a chateau like The Lude, preservation and innovation often walk hand in hand together.
When she told us the stories of the sculptures, and porcelains as she led us through the rooms. Her eyes were filled with tenderness. “But this is not a museum”, said the countess: “it is a home.”
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