Letters written in a florid script from Auguste de Colbert to his mother, the Marquise, are also assembled in a single volume, recounting his life during the Napoleonic wars. Of note is the address on many of them "Citoyenne" instead of "Marquise," a title that would have undoubtedly put her life in jeopardy.

Down the main staircase and through a series of stone passageways is the immense wine cellar, with bottles dating from the 19th century and perhaps well before. "My husband loved wine," says Marie-Sol, pointing out several cases of premier-cru Bordeaux and Sauternes. "But I haven’t really been down here since he died in 1997."
 
"People who are happy don’t have stories to tell," laughs Marie-Sol, who is often moving from room to room and across the inner courtyard with a ring of some 20 keys to open and lock each door as she passes through. Imagine being a child here, she says: "It was fabulous, and it still is." Indeed, she and her brothers and sister would scramble over the walls, hide in the passageways or the barracks above the main gate, or romp over the acres of forest and farmland, the gardens and even circle the Château’s moat in small wooden boats.
 
"We had a very particular childhood, educated at home during the war," says her brother, Michel, vicar-general of the Diocese of Bourges. "Our home even served at one point as a religious school. My mother, by her character a strong individual, was someone who really built France."

These days, with some 25,000 visitors annually, the safeguarding of the collection and the Château is a constant focus and effort. "The renovations are never-ending," says Marie-Sol. "But we would never part with a single piece from the collection." A new generation numbering some 14 will inherit the château and work to ensure the future of the past. "It’s another world, and a unique responsibility, not just for our family, but for all of France."
 
Matthew Rose is an artist and writer based in Paris.