Loches: the Dame de Beauté

The Dame de Beauté

Agnes Sorel, the first royal mistress

Oooh la la, those French rascal presidents and kings! The history of France is absolutely teeming with secret love affairs and royal mistresses. And even president Mitterand had a very public second life with a mistress and illegitimate daughter. Did the French public bat an eyelid? Certainly not. For rich and powerful Frenchmen, a mistress is the ultimate accessory, and proof of their status. As for the cuckolded wives, well, they seem to bear their burden with grace and dignity but I am sure that being rich and living in a mansion with lots of domestic staff eases the pain of being cheated on. Perhaps even madame has a 'liaison dangereuse' with her gardner or personal trainer. Discreetly, of course, because the ego of her husband cannot survive the eternal embarrasment of having an unfaithful wife. Ah yes, those lovely double standards. But at least the French are more up front about them than -say- the Brits are.

But I am digressing. The history of the French kings is just as much the history of famous mistresses. Who are not seen as tarts and whores, like their tragic English 'colleagues', but as influential and highly cultured women. Names like Diane de Poitiers, Gabrielle d'Estrées, and of course the madames De Maintenon, De Montespan, De Pompadour and Du Barry are still well known, and the legacy of these remarkable women is tangible all over France, in works of art and in their chateaux and palaces.

Maybe the first famous French mistress was Agnes Sorel, the 'Dame de Beauté'. She was king Charles VII's lover, and she was apparently the first officially acknowledged royal mistress. She was also something of a Lady GaGa in her time, launching several new fashions, like showing bare shoulders and a cleavage! Although the famous portrait of her with one boob hanging out was perhaps a tad too far ahead of its time... Agnes was a great influence on Charles, practically curing him from manic depressions, and giving him the resolve to keep fighting the English. Sadly, Charles' son Louis XI sided with his sad and ridiculed mother, and hated Agnes deeply. So much so, that apparently he had her poisoned.

In the walled mediaeval town of Loches, where there's a royal castle that king Charles gave to Agnes, she rests in a beautiful tomb in the church. The monks of the church were not too pleased to have the body and very realistic marble effigy of this very sexy woman in their church, so they asked Louis XI if Agnes could be buried in the castle chapel. 'Sure', king Louis said -not wanting the body of the woman whose death he had caused anywhere near him!- 'but if the body of Agnes comes to the castle, so shall all the money she has donated to your church'. The monks did not press on and to this day, Agnes Sorel sleeps her eternal sleep under the twin pyramid domes of the St. Ours church in Loches.

I have visited her tomb three times, and I think it's one of the most lovely in the world. Agnes lies there, serene in white marble, with two beautiful mourning angels by her side. Not bad, for someone who was never a queen, but merely 'the other woman'...

Amboise: my first and Leonardo's last

Amboise, the first castle

The first time I went to France, I was nine years old, sitting on top of a pile of blankets and sleeping bags in my father's old green Volvo Amazone in an itchy blue cardigan my grandma had just knitted and which I was therefore obliged to wear even though she wasn't even there. My father had decided to take us to the Loire Valley, an area I had never heard of before. "You like castles don't you?" he asked me. "Well in that case you will LOVE the Loire Valley".

And I did, I still do and I will die loving the Loire Valley.

It is one of those rare spots in the world where everything comes together in a perfect way. The gentle landscape with its silvery blue lazy rivers, the green hills and majestic forests... the creamy white villages on the riverbanks, huddled around ancient churches or crumbling fortresses. The wonderful food and the delightful fragrant wines (these delights were obviously lost on a nine-year old). And most of all, the castles. In every shapen and size, dating from 1200 up until the 1800's, the hundreds of castles make it very clear that the Loire Valley has always been a favourite among the rich and powerful of France.

Abandoning the squalor and filth that was Paris, the Loire Valley was truly 'le Jardin de France'. And so, one king after another started to build royal residences in the area between Orleans and Angers, and many noblemen followed.

I remember that even though we camped out near Blois, the first castle we visited was Amboise. And even though it is not the most spectacular or beautiful Loire castle, it has always been a favourite of mine, merely because it was the first one I saw. Its squat tower dominates the town and the river, and it is hard to imagine that basically only a quarter of the castle has made it through history. I remember my father telling me about horrible massacres taking place at Amboise, with dozens of people hanged from the castle walls, while many others were drowned in the river.

That's so French, I now realize. To come to a lovely, peaceful, sleepy place, only to hear about some massacre or bloody battle having taken place there. It's true for the Somme battlefields and it's true for the D-Day beaches. And it's true for sleepy Amboise, reflecting itself in the Loire and dreaming back of its glory days when Leonardo da Vinci looked over its rooftops from the castle where he still lies buried.

I have been to Amboise many, many times now, and I always greet Leonardo when I see the chapel rising high above the old town. The Valley of Kings is a fitting final resting place for a genius like him.