T. E. Lawrence to C. F. C. ('Scroggs') Beeson

Grand Hotel du Midi,
à Chalus (Haute-Vienne)

16 August 1908

Dear Scroggs,

1 week has passed since I began your letter: I'm 'awfully' sorry; and as I've 4 letters written today you'll excuse me the shortcomings of this one. From Cordes I rode over ghastly hills to Najac. This little place proved to be as picturesque as Cordes (I really can't say anything greater) with the addition of plenty of water (a great boon here) and a splendid xiii cent. castle, absolutely unrestored. The donjon was as fine as Rouen, and there was a splendid cistern with about 10 feet of water: why do they persist in calling them dungeons? or oubliettes: nothing but a water rat could have lived in this one. From Najac 'twas down hill nearly to Cahors (40 miles, and that meant good-bye to the Tarn) where the Pont Valentré proved curious rather than beautiful. It has been all scraped and repaired-, and a white thing does not look well in this flood of sunlight. At Cahors I was devoured by mosquitoes all night: They simply whirled round my head. I understood Aeschylus αιθηρ δελαφραις πτερυγων ριπαις υποσυριζει. That word υποσυριζει is superb.

Cahors to Fumel for Bonaguil which was glorious. 'tis hardly ruined at all: most picturesque (covered with plants and flowers) and architecturally most wonderful: mark it with a double asterisk, and visit it ως ταχιστα. Bonaguil-Montpazier, the most perfect of the bastide-towns (those chess-board planned towns of the xiii and xiv cents. in Aquitaine.) The market place was fine, with arcades all round. There were more cicalas there in the trees than I found anywhere else: it was really charming out there in the evening: since the best time of the day is after 10 at night (my Father is Irish you know, so I'm allowed these little things).

Montpazier-Castillon, with nothing to see, then Pujols, fine of xii cent. and interesting: an improved Gisors: then Montaigne, the estate and castle of the greatest one: this of course it was a great privilege for me to see. His library tower is unaltered, though the château is rebuilt.

Montaigne-Perigueux (St. Front more curious than beautiful, and quite spoilt by restoration) - Hautefort, the castle of Bertrand de Born, burnt, so the butler assured me, by the English under Chas. I. and only rebuilt in the xvii cent: quite so: the gateway is supposed to be B. de Bornish, but that's all rot: at least if so he was an astonishing anachronism. It may be xiv cent.

Hautefort-St.Yrieix (xii. tower good): St. Yrieix-Chalusset, a most wonderful thing of the xiii cent. [A] fine castle, with donjon of xii cent. and a large beak on the front of it. 'Eureka' I've got it at last for the thesis: the transition from the square keep form: really it is too great for words: it was impossible to photo: but I can plan, and have a SKETCH which it shall be your duty to render presentable. It is really indispensible (how do you spell that disgusting Americanism?) Chalusset-Chalus which is where Rich. I. got his final wound. At the same time 'twas his lunacy in beanfeasting and steeple-chasing before it had healed that killed him: he died near Poitiers, but the p.c.'s here have photo's of the stone beneath which he was buried, and show two towers about ¼ of a mile apart as the one from which the arrow came. 'Twas probably neither: the local antiquarian (a quaint spec. by the way) swears there was a third tower between the two: certainly those now existing are too far for a shot to the stone, on which he probably stood, since all else is swamp, and an Angevin couldn't get his feet wet. Well now, I hope to be in Saintes by Tuesday, Loches 10 days later (unless you're coming) and Dinard in another 6. This would be apparently about 100 miles a day: but I've ridden nearly 2000 to date, am as brown as a Jap, and thin as paper. Paper not long enough again: still all the polite messages and inquiries after health and happiness you'll take as read. I expect you'll be happier when the fair is off your chest. I'll miss it in any case:

Tootle'oo.

E.L.