The Portland daily press., 1881-08-31
Gambetta at Tours.
The City and the Man.
Tours, France, August 5, 1881.

uOrI tnl6 passage VI d somoWHat lEaSLnoHtaiy
conversation?
"What is Touraine?"
"Touraine is the garden of France
What was proverbially true of the old prov
ince is true of the modern departement, en-
bracing exactly the same territory, which is
known by the less melodious name of the Indre-
ct, Loire. A trip even by rail from Angers to
Tours the capital of the departement, is a
liberal education in the picturesque, and gives
fresh reality to the stereotyped phrases.
"Sunny France" and vine-clad hills" And
the city is the cleanest, brightest, most coquet-
tish little city that one can find in long sum-
mer days journey along the enchanted banks
of the Loire. The beautiful building stone OF
the country which soon grows black and dingy
in most places, seems to retain its whiteness
on this favored spo:, giving the city as whole
the pleasant appearance of having just tiken
a good bath. And
THE CATHEDRAL
is Jewell as his majesty Henry ~. also re-
marked some centuries ago as he was riding by
one day. Though nominally centuries old,
the cathedral was really young, and so was
Henry of Navarro; and, being in pleasant
ception by demanding case to put it in,-
towers OF two hundred and twenty feet, and ALL
And the pleasantly was regarded as very
good one in those old times, considering its
royal origin, and 50 it has been handed down
to us who, poor little tourists, might otherwise
be under the necessity of inventing one OF our
own. And for me the necessity would have
been an rksome one; for as entered the high
Gothic portal, amazed .at the splendor of the
lace-like sculpture and charmed by the light
of the summer morning pouring in through
the gorgeous painted windows, there came
down through the nave band of mourners,
clothed in black, supporting widow whose
despairing sobs and cries were echoed from
the deep recesses of the building. The coffin
covered with its pail was left before one of the
side-ohapels without taper, without priest,
without a mourner; and when the procession
had passed out there was only left the dead,
and scattered here and there the bowed forms
of few women performing their morning de-
votions.
But without the town is all astir; for it is to-
day that
GAMBETTA,
Gascon of Italian descent, son of certain
retail grocer of Cahors, is coming ng,-Gambetta,
the foremost citizen of France, and perhaps
the most conspicuous man Of these modern
times. He has been here once before, but the
first time he came by balloon, instead of by
railway, and established his so-called dicta-
torship, earning for himself the title of the
craving madman,'' kindly conferred by very
short man with very long head whose name
Of Thiers has since been carved on so many
pedestals from one end of France to the other.
The ex-dictator and ex-raving madman is
phenomenon, too as well as the cathedral;-
one might almost say that there is something
Gothic and monumental about him also. So,
leaving the dead man to keep watch in the
cathedral alone, we all hurry out to see the
other spectacle at the station. Well worth see
ing, this
RECEPTION IN THE PROVINCES
of great man from the acpital. There are
the firemen of the town with brass band at
their head, drawn up in solemn array before
the principal exit And there is the mayor,
Mr.. Riviere, deputy and journalist, attended
by the members of the common council. Now
councilman on dress parade in any part of
the world is, with the possible exception OF
bsadle, the most joyous spectacle which this
poor existence affords us. But French coun-
Gilman, being of a nature more expansive and
demonstrative than his glorious Saxon brother,
makes the heart of the beholder glad. The
stout one who on this occasion came out OF the
station snugly fitted into his dress coat, his
new silk hat little over the left ear, with
white gloves, swinging his short arms, walk
ing fast and glancing benignly at the waiting
commoners, big with an order for the carriages
to advance, was one of those beings for whose
creation always devoutly thank kind Provil
dence that while literally stocking our lives
with storms and earthquakes, is pleased that
we should sometimes laugh. The carriages
advance and Gambetta appears. escorted by
the prefect and other dignitsries, and remains
few moments on the steps while the band
plays the Marseillaise hear people about
me saying, "How old he has grown-and
stoutl'' ''Stouti" 1 should think sol he
looks like giant as he stands there shading
his eyes with one hand and waiting for the
applause, which, to my great surprise, is only
sparingly bestowed, and which he acknowl-
edges with an air almost Of discomfort. and
afterwards rides away through crowd which
respectfully uncovers, but utters only few
timid, hesitating cries of "Vive Gambettai"
saw him again as he passed on his way
from the national exhibition which has been
for some time in progress at Tours, to be pres
ent at the distribution of prizes to exhibitors
at the circus Same glacial but respectful at
titude of the people who do not seem in good
humor to-day. What is the matter with these
good Tourangaux? They hardly laugh. All
one tall man whose white form rises high
above the rest of the crowd, is smiling, at
least, but what smile! Rather q sardonic
rictus. And what a mask for facel One
would say he was ieering at the solemn COM
pany that is just passing in a carriage Gam
betta, who takes off his hat in a constrained
way, the mayor, the project, and Mr.. Wilson,
Under-Secretary of the Treasury. 1t seems as
ii the tall white man who holds pen and pa
per in his hand, stopped writing moment on
seeing the ex-dictator pass, and had asked in a
mocking tone:
"Where's Gallifet?"
At any rate, if
FRANCOIS RABELAIs,
that is the tall white mans name-newly
done in resplendent marble because he was
born at his fathers country ian out here in
Chinon and wrote book of high philosophy
and deep import that would make craven
image blush and stop its nose-if FRANCOIS
Rabelais is not asking for Gambetta's noble
friend, my lord Gallifet, commander of the
9th army corps, everybody else is. For they say
that the ex-intransigeant is very proud OF cap
turing the friendship of such grand seignoir,
and that when the latter goes to see his stout
patron at the Bourbon palace, Trompette. the
famous cook, is commanded to produce those
sauces with which, it is affirmed that one