Scotiana

Aubigny-sur-Nère church and half-timbered houses © 2010 Scotiana

In the heart of France, on the borders of romantic Sologne and Berry, the flowered little town of Aubigny-sur-Nère, with its old church and picturesque half-timbered houses, boasts a rich Scottish heritage on the ‘Route Jacques Coeur’.

Aubigny-sur-Nère wrought iron piper © 2010 Scotiana

So don’t be surprised if, on entering the town, as mentioned in my first post about Aubigny, you’re welcomed by a big wrought iron Scottish piper. Of course, people who come here for the first time, without knowing anything about local history and the Scottish-French Auld Alliance, have good reasons to be surprised.

Aubigny-sur-Nère Scottish Tug of War © 2010 Scotiana

And it’s only a beginning, for the piper, which must have been born out of the talented hands of one of the local wrought iron artists, is only the first sign of the Scottish omnipresence in the ‘City of the Stuarts’. Look for the funny Scottish wood dummies scattered all over the town… aren’t these two ones training for the game of ‘Tug of War’ which is a favourite in the Highlands games

Aubigny-sur-Nère Stuarts Castle © 2010 Scotiana

If you want to know why and when our Scottish friends came and settled in this quiet little French town and in the neighbourhood, go straight to the Hotel de Ville which is situated in the ancient ‘Château des Stuarts’ and shelters the very interesting Auld Alliance Museum. There, in a most vivid way, you will learn a page of Scottish-French history which most of us – on the French side especially – have forgotten or, still more probably, have never been taught about. After visiting this little museum you will be unbeatable about the Auld Alliance and the local history, for everything seems to be done here to make the rich Scottish-French heritage and friendship revive and perdure. Indeed, Aubigny-sur-Nère is twinned with Haddington, a Scottish town situated not far from Edinburgh, and the French ‘comité de jumelage’, whose president is Michel Vannier, seems to be particularly active. If you want to improve your knowledge further, the Aubigny library, which is situated  in front of the castle just behind the Auld Alliance Memorial, hosts “Un centre de recherche sur la vieille Alliance”. It must be quite interesting to browse through the local archives…

If you like walking, we advise you to go to the ‘Office du Tourisme’ and make a reservation to join one of the walking tours regularly organized around the town. There are even thematic guided tours focusing on subjects such as the half-timber architectural style which is particularly flourishing in Aubigny. These tours last about two hours. Ours began on the benches of St Martin’s Church. Our group was led by Delphine, a very interesting guide, and we won’t forget the many lively anecdotes she told us about St Martin’s Church, the castle, the market place, the bridge on the Nère, the street names (the ‘rue Pousse-Panier’!). We particularly loved the half-timbered houses: the  Ironmonger’s shop with its emblematic sign and symbols,  the so-called house of François 1er (he never came there) which hosts a very interesting iron wrought art exhibition…also the journeyman carpenter’s strange house with its unique spiral steeple. What a tour !

Aubigny-sur-Nère A Guided Walk Jacques Gaurant 1993

For those who don’t want or can’t follow the guide into the old streets of Aubigny, a very interesting little book, with beautiful illustrations, has been published.

Aubigny-sur Nère British postal box and French bike © 2010 Scotiana

And if you don’t like walking why not take your bike! Whatever the means of transport, all roads lead to Scotland here

Aubigny-sur Nère Le château des Stuarts et son blason fleuri © 2010 Scotiana

I give you rendez-vous to the Auld Alliance Museum. You can’t miss it since it is situated in the Stuarts Castle, also known as the Hotel de Ville. On its façade there is a big and vividly coloured reproduction of the Stuarts of Aubigny’s coat-of-arms. That blazon would be worth a post in itself …

Aubigny-sur Nère Le Château des Stuarts Scottish guard © 2010 Scotiana

So, here we are, in front of the old château des Stuarts. A Scottish guard seems to be waiting for us, ready to open the door of history. At the entrance, after catching a glimpse at the Marriage Registry whose long table is covered with a piece of Stuart Tartan – the Council Chambers are situated on the floor above – we are equipped with headphones that seem to be connected with the invisible world for a Scottish ghost soon invites us to follow him… his name is Quentin and this makes me think of Quentin Durward

France Berry Aubigny-sur-Nère Museum Auld Alliance Treaty © 2010 Scotiana

We’re immediately propelled back in time and down to the year 1295. Something very important seems to be happening there… let us approach !

Aubigny-sur-Nère Museum Auld Alliance Treaty French King Philippe le Bel © 2010 Scotiana

Aubigny-sur-Nère Museum Auld Alliance Treaty Scottish King John Balliol © 2010 Scotiana

We soon notice that the two protagonists of what appears to be a historical scene are wearing sumptuous clothes with the royal arms of Scotland (red lion rampant) and France (fleurs de lys) on them. Our ghostly friend, who seems to navigate quite easily in the corridors of time and history, introduces us to John Balliol and Philippe le Bel. The moment is solemn. We curtsey. Both Kings have just signed ‘The Auld Alliance Treaty’, a document often considered as the most ancient European Treaty, which seals the destinies of Scotland and France in a united effort to protect them against England, their common enemy. I’ve heard, but I’m not sure it is true, that Norway also signed the Treaty. The origins of the Auld Alliance may well date back to more ancient times but, as far as France is concerned, this pact gave momentum during ‘The Hundred Years War’, when the French realm was at its worst, after the defeat of Azincourt (1415). The French King, Charles VI, was in a perilous situation while his son, the ‘Dauphin’, had taken refuge in Bourges.

There is a popular French rhyme or ‘comptine’ entitled ‘Le carillon de Vendôme’, which is deploring the state of France at the time of the ”entil dauphin’… I don’t know the origins of the rhyme nor of its tune which the bells of the French churches and abbeys were supposed to be ringing  then, three times a day, at the hour of the Angelus :

Mes amis
Que reste-t-il
À ce Dauphin si gentil ?
Orléans, Beaugency,
Notre-Dame de Cléry,
Vendôme, Vendôme !

‘Le petit roi de Bourges’ was in desperate need to find allies and he called to his Scottish friends for help. They soon arrived with a strong military contingent led by John Stuart, Earl of Buchan, son of the Duke of Albany (Scottish Regent). A major victory was won in Baugé, the 22nd March 1421. In 1422, Charles VI died and the Dauphin succeeded him.

Aubigny-sur-Nère Auld Alliance Museum Royal Marquee © 2010 Scotiana

Charles VII was eager to reward his Scottish allies. In March 1423, John Stuart who had already been made ‘Grand Connétable de France’ and given ‘La Seigneurie de Concressault’, in Berry, was now awarded ‘La Seigneurie d’Aubigny”. But the courageous knight would never enjoy life in his land of Aubigny for while fighting on other French battlefields, he lost an eye and was made prisoner before being killed in 1429, with his brother, while defending the city of Orléans. Charles VII was deeply grieved by the loss of his friends and he ordered that they be buried in the choir of the cathedral of  Orléans. The Seigneury of Aubigny remained in the hands of the Scottish family for it passed to John Stuart’s heir.

Aubigny-sur-Nère Auld Alliance Museum scene of Charles VII coronation at Reims with Joan of Arc carrying the French flag and John Stuart's son the

With the help of their Scottish Allies the French troops, led by the charismatic Joan of Arc, finally managed to drive the English out of France and after so many bloody fights and losses, the Dauphin Charles VII was finally sacred King of France on 14 july 1429, in the cathedral of Reims. But the valorous John Stuart was no more and it is to his son that came the honour to carry the Scottish standard while the French heroin Joan of Arc held the French one.

The Auld Alliance didn’t begin and doesn’t end with this important page of history. It went on along centuries with more or less success but the friendship between the two countries never failed. Aubigny-sur-Nère, ‘lieu de mémoire’ is a good example of what can be done today not to forget our common history and to maintain close ties between our countries.

Aubigny-sur-Nère Auld Alliance Memorial stone © 2010 Scotiana

L’Auld Alliance n’a point été écrite sur un parchemin de peau de brebis
mais est gravée sur de la chair vive et de la peau d’homme,
tracée non par de l’encre mais par le sang.

(Alain Chartier XVème siècle)

The Auld Alliance was not written on a ewe skin parchment
but was engraved on the living flesh and skin of men,
traced not in ink but in blood.

Now, if you happen to go to Aubigny-sur-Nère, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to see a Scottish piper standing amidst a flowery roundabout, but stay tuned for my story does not end here. It is to be continued, this time in a very romantic castle, not far from Aubigny…

A bientôt, Mairiuna.

Ralph © 2000 Scotiana

To our dear Ralph, I dedicate this post.
I’m sure he’s waiting for us somewhere in greener lands…
But we miss him here …

Ralph In Memoriam card sent to Mairiuna by Janice © 2005 Scotiana

I have sometimes thought of the final cause of dogs having such short lives, and I am quite satisfied it is in compassion to the human race; for if we suffer so much in losing a dog after an acquaintance of ten or twelve years, what would it be if they were to live double that time ? (Sir Walter Scott)

We were eager to open on Scotiana a new category which would be devoted to Scottish dogs, the famous and less famous ones, the shepherds, the rescue workers in the mountains or simply the familiar pets who put zest into people’s life. They are omnipresent, loved and protected, on the Scottish soil, together with animals of all sorts, be they wild or domestic, but I could not have found a more appropriate date to open our new category about dogs than on this August 20th 2010, since it is ten years today that Ralph passed away.

We had dreamt to take him with us into Scotland in 2000 but we soon discovered it was impossible because our poor friend should have had to spend six months in quarantine in some isolated British kennel, like a prisoner, before being accepted into the country. Fortunately enough, things have changed and foreign dogs can now be admitted into Great-Britain without so much trouble, provided their masters strictly follow the new British regulations…

Glencoe mountains West Highlands of Scotland © 2007 Scotiana

Our four-paws friend would certainly have enjoyed as much as we do the beautiful Scottish countryside, especially the wildest parts of it. He didn’t like towns…

Ralph dans la neige au bois de Cestas, Bordeaux © 2000 Scotiana

Ralph was a dignified representative of the noble breed of German shepherds, aka Alsatians. Provided they are well treated and educated, these very intelligent and sensitive dogs can prove to be the kindest and most faithful companions. But dogs are lovable, whatever their breeds, and there are many wonderful stories, all over the world, about their courage and faithfulness. One of the most famous of these stories took place in Edinburgh, at the end of the 19 th century. It is a true story about a disconsolate little Skye Terrier, called Bobby, who spent 14 years on the grave of his master, after his death in 1858. He soon became a local hero and then got a well-deserved international fame as many of his fellow-creatures: Lassie in Britain, Mabrouk and Junior in France, Hatchi in Japan to mention only a few of the most unforgettable dogs. A gravestone has been erected in Bobby’s memory at the entrance gate of Greyfriars’s Churchyard, in Edinburgh, not far from the place where his master rests but I’m not sure the little dog has been buried there. Everybody knows him as Greyfriars’ Bobby. A sign with his familiar effigy hangs on the bright-coloured façade of the crowded Greyfriars Bobby’ Bar, not far from the entry of the churchyard.

Edinburgh Greyfriars' Bobby Statue © 2003 Scotiana

A bronze statue designed in 1872, by William Brodie has also been erected , in the 1960s, by Baroness Burdett-Coutts in memory of the faithful little Skye Terrier, at the junction of Candlemaker Row and George IV Bridge in Edinburgh.

Greyfriars' Bobby Monument plaque Edinburgh © 2003 Scotiana

There is a commemorative plaque on the pillared monument and a drinking fountain at its foot which is good for dogs when it is hot… a bar for dogs

Edinburgh Greyfriar's Bobby's Bar and statue © 2006 Scotiana

Greyfriars’ churchyard with Bobby’s and Old Jock’s stones, Greyfriars Bobby’s Bar and his monument are pilgrimage places for dog lovers and landmarks for tourists in Edinburgh! We went there several times and, in 2007,  after waiting our turn for a long long time, we finally ate a delicious meal in the crowded pub which contains a number of moving memorabilia of Bobby, of his master and of his friends…

Greyfriars Bobby's gravestone Edinburgh © 2001 Scotiana

On learning about this very moving story, in 2000, we promised to call at the little dog’s grave next time we would go to Edinburgh. I took the above paper picture in 2001, with the blackbird, the light on the name, and the roses…

Scotland Edinburgh Greyfriars's Churchyard Old Jock's grave © 2003 Scotiana

In 2003, while I was walking along the dark and solitary alleys of the churchyard, looking at the graves and taking pictures of the place, an old man suddenly emerged from I know not where and began to tell me Bobby’s whole story in a very lively style and all sorts of anecdotes about Greyfriars’ churchyard. Indeed, this churchyard is well worth the visit in itself for it is a highly historical place.

Edinburgh Greyfriars's Bobby Bar © 2003 Scotiana

My old storyteller looked rather wretched and I wondered if, like Bobby in his time, he lived in the neighbourhood in some makeshift and weatherbeaten shed. Maybe the old man was working there. Anyway, he seemed to know the place quite well and I thought he must also be a regular at the nearby Greyfriars’ pub I would lie if I told you that I understood all things he said to me that day but I took to the old man and promised him I would come back soon. We came back in 2006 but the old man was no longer there. I would have been pleased to see him hobbling along the path…but maybe it was his turn to peacefully rest there, in his dear churchyard…

Rangi Ernest Dudley 1970 Harvill Press, London

Moobli Mike Tomkies Jonathan Cape edition 1988

Now, if you are a fan of Scotland and if you do love dogs, let me advise you to read the marvellous stories of Moobli and Rangi. I am very grateful to Margaret and Iain to have offered me these very interesting and moving books. It touched me deeply! In reading them I’ve laughed and wept quite a lot but I’ve also learned many things about Scotland and Scottish people.

Photo of Moobli taken at Glencoe by Mike Tomkies - Source Moobli Jonathan Cape edition 1988 © Mike Tomkies

Moobli and Rangi are fascinating books which describe the harsh life and adventures of two German shepherds always ready to help their masters, sometimes in the peril of their life, one in the wild and solitary island of Shona,  and the other in the beautiful and dangerous mountains of Glencoe. The story of Moobli is particularly moving since it is told with a lot of humour and tenderness by his master, Mike Tomkies, a well-known naturalist with whom the dog shared the life in the wilderness, from puppy age to death.

The story of Rangi inadequately began in a small flat of Greenock and after hardly escaping the fatal injection, at the local surgeon veterinary, which would have permitted his first masters to get rid of him. He was rescued by Hamish MacInnes and Dr Catherine MacInnes, a very nice and locally well-known couple of mountain rescuers who intended to create, with their first dog Tikki, a dog rescue team in the more and more frequented and dangerous mountains of Glencoe. German Shepherds, like the big and friendly St Bernards, are very good avalanche dogs.

I will tell you more later about Bobby, Moobli and Rangi for it would be definitely too long here to tell the detailed stories of these dogs and their masters. Each story is well-worth a page and a long one.
I would like to end this post on giving you some extracts of my favourite pages about dogs and, of course, I will focus mainly on Sir Walter Scott who is not only one of the greatest Scottish writers but also one of the best dog lovers I’ve ever learned about. I’m always discovering new and quite touching anecdotes about him.

Sir Walter Scott with Camp engraved by James Heath after James Saxon (1810) This engraving was first published as the frontispiece to the second impression of Scott's The Lady of the Lake (Edinburgh: John Ballantyne and Co., 1810). Source : Edinburgh University Library

[Camp] died about January 1809 and was buried in a fine moon-light night, in the little garden behind the house in Castle Street, immediately opposite to the window at which Scott usually sat writing. My wife [Scott's daughter Sophia] tells me that she remembers the whole family standing in tears about the grave, as her father himself smoothed down the turf above Camp with the saddest expression of face she had ever seen in him. He had been engaged to dine abroad that day, but apologized on account of ‘the death of a dear old friend;’ and Mr Macdonald Buchanan was not at all surprised that he should have done so, when it came out next morning that Camp was no more. (II, 248)
Lockhart, J. G., Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. (Edinburgh: R. Cadell, 1837-38)

Sir Walter Scott with Hinse by Sir John Watson Gordon (Scottish National Portrait Gallery)Sir Walter Scott with Hinse engraved by Robert Charles Bell after Sir John Watson Gordon (Scottish National Portrait Gallery) Frontispiece to: Portrait of Sir Walter Scott: And Five Engravings in Illustration of 'The Pirate' ([Edinburgh: Royal Association for the Promotion of the Fine Arts in Scotland

Sir Walter Scott was a genuine lover of animals. At one time his household included not only many dogs and a cat, but a talking raven known as Ralph;-), which was said to have died from immoderate imbibing of alcohol. Scott’s family and friends used the word tail – the same word used for the followers of a Highland chief – to talk about the immense posse of animals, not only dogs but also a pig which thought it was a dog, as well as a hen and a donkey, which followed their master around on his perambulations. In 1830 a visitor witnessed Scott taking one of his dogs (which had a cough) into his carriage rather than let it ford swollen streams, and wrote:

His tenderness to his brute dependants was a striking point in the general benignity of his character. He seemed to consult not only their bodily welfare, but their feelings, in the human sense. He was a gentleman, even to his dogs. (‘He was a Gentleman, even to his Dogs’: Portraits of Scott and his Canine Companions – Jeanne Cannizzo – In  Abbotsford and Sir Walter Scott – The Image and the Influence – Edited by Iain G. Brown 2003)

This reminds me of a very moving anecdote which took place some years ago in Bordeaux, rue Sainte-Catherine, at the end of a very cold winter day. My daughter and I were shopping for Christmas. The wind was blowing and we were hastening into the shops for it was freezing cold outside. We suddenly fell upon a very young woman, under twenty it seemed, and of a very frail constitution. She was sitting in the street in company of her two dogs. Her clothes were far from being sufficient to protect her against the cold weather and she looked wretched and destitute. So pale was she that we feared she was going to faint. We approached her. The woman had covered one of her dogs, a german shepherd, with her only blanket. He was sleeping. When we asked her why she had put the blanket on the dog while she was herself freezing, she simply answered : “He is ill”… No need to say we gave her the whole contents of our purse, which was not much alas…

I really can’t help to largely quote Washington Irving, a famous American writer who was a fervent admirer of Sir Walter Scott, and came to visit him at Abbotsford, at the time when Sir Walter and his family still lived in a small ivy-covered cottage, near the place where the big house was about to be built. Washington Irving was cheerfully welcomed by the master of the place and he has left of his visit a very enjoyable essay. Indeed, John Lockhart makes large use of it in his fascinating Life of Sir Walter Scott.

Portrait of Washington Irving (1783-1859) by John Wesley Jarvis in 1809 Source Wikipedia

After my return from Melrose Abbey, Scott proposed a ramble to show me something of the surrounding country. As we sallied forth, every dog in the establishment turned out to attend us. There was the old stag-hound Maida, that I have already mentioned, a noble animal, and a great favorite of Scott’s, and Hamlet, the black greyhound, a wild, thoughtless youngster, not yet arrived to the years of discretion; and Finette, a beautiful setter, with soft, silken hair, long pendent ears, and a mild eye, the parlor favorite. When in front of the house, we were joined by a superannuated greyhound, who came from the kitchen wagging his tail, and was cheered by Scott as an old friend and comrade.

In our walks, Scott would frequently pause in conversation to notice his dogs and speak to them, as if rational companions; and indeed there appears to be a vast deal of rationality in these faithful attendants on man, derived from their close intimacy with him. Maida deported himself with a gravity becoming his age and size, and seemed to consider himself called upon to preserve a great degree of dignity and decorum in our society. As he jogged along a little distance ahead of us, the young dogs would gambol about him, leap on his neck, worry at his ears, and endeavor to tease him into a frolic. The old dog would keep on for a long time with imperturbable solemnity, now and then seeming to rebuke the wantonness of his young companions. At length he would make a sudden turn, seize one of them, and tumble him in the dust; then giving a glance at us, as much as to say, “You see, gentlemen, I can’t help giving way to this nonsense,” would resume his gravity and jog on as before.

Scott amused himself with these peculiarities. “I make no doubt,” said he, “when Maida is alone with these young dogs, he throws gravity aside, and plays the boy as much as any of them; but he is ashamed to do so in our company, and seems to say, ‘Ha’ done with your nonsense, youngsters: what will the laird and that other gentleman think of me if I give way to such foolery?’”
Maida reminded him, he said, of a scene on board an armed yacht in which he made an excursion with his friend Adam Ferguson. They had taken much notice of the boatswain, who was a fine sturdy seaman, and evidently felt flattered by their attention. On one occasion the crew were “piped to fun,” and the sailors were dancing and cutting all kinds of capers to the music of the ship’s band. The boatswain looked on with a wistful eye, as if he would like to join in; but a glance at Scott and Ferguson showed that there was a struggle with his dignity, fearing to lessen himself in their eyes. At length one of his messmates came up, and seizing him by the arm, challenged him to a jig. The boatswain, continued Scott, after a little hesitation complied, made an awkward gambol or two, like our friend Maida, but soon gave it up. “It’s of no use,” said he, jerking up his waistband and giving a side glance at us, “one can’t dance always nouther.”
Scott amused himself with the peculiarities of another of his dogs, a little shamefaced terrier, with large glassy eyes, one of the most sensitive little bodies to insult and indignity in the world. If ever he whipped him, he said, the little fellow would sneak off and hide himself from the light of day, in a lumber garret, whence there was no drawing him forth but by the sound of the chopping-knife, as if chopping up his victuals, when he would steal forth with humble and downcast look, but would skulk away again if any one regarded him.
While we were discussing the humors and peculiarities of our canine companions, some object provoked their spleen, and produced a sharp and petulant barking from the smaller fry, but it was some time before Maida was sufficiently aroused to ramp forward two or three bounds and join in the chorus, with a deep-mouthed bow-wow!
It was but a transient outbreak, and he returned instantly, wagging his tail, and looking up dubiously in his master’s face; uncertain whether he would censure or applaud.

“Aye, aye, old boy!” cried Scott, “you have done wonders. You have shaken the Eildon hills with your roaring; you may now lay by your artillery for the rest of the day. Maida is like the great gun at Constantinople,” continued he; “it takes so long to get it ready, that the small guns can fire off a dozen times first, but when it does go off it plays the very d—-l.”

I’ve learned a lot of things about old Reekie and the Scottish wildlife in reading the lives of Bobby, Moobli and Rangi and what I can add to conclude this post is that I do love dogs more than ever.
For the readers who are not discouraged by the reading of some French lines – my book is in French;-) – I will add a very intriguing extract from a book by Dino Buzzati,  an Italian author whom I like very much. The drawing on the bookcover has been made by him.

Dino Buzzati Bestiaire magique Robert Laffont 1994

Anita put entendre, derrière elle, une sorte d’énorme marmottement, comme provenant d’une foule en train de prier à voix basse. Elle se retourna et vit que les lieux s’étaient soudain peuplés. Le long de la route qui longeait le terrain vague avançait un interminable cortège. Y regardant mieux, Anita s’aperçut qu’il s’agissait d’un enterrement. Sinon qu’il n’y avait pas de corbillard mais un immense convoi de véhicules à roues, attachés les uns aux autres comme des wagons de chemin de fer. Mais, en tête, y avait-il des chevaux ou une machine à moteur ? C’était impossible à discerner car le convoi se perdait à l’horizon. Sur ces véhicules, de hautes masses recouvertes de toile noire, et dont on ne pouvait comprendre ce qu’elles représentaient. Le spectacle était lugubre et redoutable.
Anita s’approcha. De cette procession s’échappait un sourd murmure parfois percé de quelque douloureuse lamentation, quelque sanglot, quelque pleur.
- Que se passe-t-il ? demanda Anita à un vieux monsieur qui marchait, tête basse.
Le monsieur lui répondit aimablement mais avec des accents désespérés :
- Madame, ce sont les chiens.
- Et qu’est-ce à dire exactement ?
-Ils sont tous morts aujourd’hui.
- Quels chiens ?
- Tous les chiens du monde.
- Tous ?
- Tous, y compris le mien.
-Mais comment est-ce possible ?
Le vieillard secoua la tête.
- C’est la vie, très chère madame. Les belles choses nous abandonnent, l’une après l’autre. Plus nous allons, plus nous nous retrouvons seuls. Il y a deux ans, ce sont les papillons qui ont disparu mais personne n’y a prêté attention. L’année dernière, les moineaux, vous vous souvenez ? Maintenant, et c’est bien plus triste encore, les chiens.
(Dino Buzzati – Bestiaire magique – Les vieux amis s’en vont )

Bonne lecture et à bientôt. Mairiuna

Ralph au bord de l'océan © 2000 Scotiana

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages;

(William Shakespeare Cymbeline 1609)

Ralph La Pierre Saint-Martin Pyrénées-Atlantiques France Scotiana © 2000 Scotiana

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Aubigny-sur-Nère City of the Stuarts Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

A Scottish piper welcomes the visitor at the entry of the town…

Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

Pieces of tartan stretched like sails within bamboo frames flap in the wind … hunting and royal Stuart tartans…

Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' rue des Dames Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

On a charming little square, a yellow-harled house, which would not look out of place in Culross, proudly stands across the street, while a Stuart tartan sign invites us to enter the picturesque half-timbered ‘Mary Cottage’ …an emblematic red phone booth and a British-style bench, set on a manicured lawn, still add to the feeling that we are arriving in a Scottish town but it’s only a beginning !

The Cutty Sark Pub Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

The tartan touch is omnipresent all over the very flourished French little town of Aubigny-sur Nère: in the shops, from the butcher’s to the insurance company, in the bars, hotels and restaurants and we’ve even found a Scottish pub…

Hôtel de ville Stuart-Castle Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

A little further we fall upon an old castle bearing the Stuarts Arms. Across the street, a big sword in a rock seems to be waiting for William Wallace…

Scottish Archer Hôtel de ville Stuart-Castle Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

In front of the castle a  Scottish archer is bending his bow, ready to shoot an arrow… the place seems to be well-guarded …

Scottish and English knights Hôtel de ville Stuart-Castle Aubigny-sur-Nère 'City of the Stuarts' Berry France © 2010 Scotiana

… no wonder,   at the entry of the castle, which bears the Stuart arms, there seems to be an intruder. Two knights are figthing, one is wearing the Scottish Stuart Tartan and we guess that the other, with the St George’s Cross on his clothes, is  English…

The Saltire fluttering in the wind in front of the Aubigny Hôtel de Ville-Stuart Castle © 2010 Scotiana

That day, a chilly wind was blowing and the sky was grey and rainy in Aubigny but nobody seemed to care, strolling along the streets, in summer clothes and bare arms, as if we were in Scotland  but  it took us a long time to get a satisfactory photo of the fluttering Saltire…

The Aubigny Auld Alliance Scotch Whisky © 2010 Scotiana

Our tour of Aubigny would not have been complete without a dram of the Scottish mythical malted breuvage but, yes, Aubigny-sur-Nère is proud to be able to offer its visitors an authentic whisky …Chin Chin !

Aubigny-sur-Nère Fêtes franco-écossaises Programme juillet 2010

But we’ve missed “le clou du spectacle” this year,  for if we had celebrated our “Fête Nationale” in Aubigny on July 14, it would certainly have been an extraordinary Scottish-French celebration !

Aubigny-sur Nère rue des Foulons Bridge on the Nère © 2010 Scotiana

The French ‘Stuarts City’ is very rich in history and if you want to know more about this picturesque and enigmatic Scottish-French town, then don’t miss my next post about Aubigny… I will tell you much more about its fascinating story.

A bientôt.

Mairiuna

Scottish Teddy Bear Aubigny-sur-Nère Tourist Office © 2010 Scotiana

Mairiuna! upon watching a You Tube video about United States postage stamps, I discovered that one of the featured stamps, the $1 value of the 1898 Trans-Mississipi Exposition Issue, internationally known as the “Cattle in the Storm” stamp, was designed from a 19th century painting of Scottish painter, John A. MacWhirter.   Imagine…this stamp was considered for [...]

While travelling all over Scotland we’ve discovered a great number of ruins and visited some of them, from the grandiose remains of castles, abbeys and churches, often set in dramatic landscapes, to the more modest and heartbreaking crofts and villages burnt during the infamous period of the Highlands evictions in the 18th and 19th centuries… [...]