In Troubadour- Land. 
 
Tower <je St. Trophine, Arles. 
 
In Troubadour-Land. 
 
 A RAMBLE IN 
 PROVENCE AND LANGUEDOC. 
 
 BY 
 
 S. BARING-GOULD, M.A, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "MEIIALAH," "JOHN HERRING," "OLD COUNTRY LIFE," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY J. E. ROGERS. 
 
 "What is this life, if it be not mixed with some delight? And what delight 
 is more pleasing than to see the fashions and manners of unknown places? You 
 know I am no common gadder, nor have oft troubled you with travell." — Tom 
 of Reading, 1600. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 W. H. ALLEN & CO., LIMITED, 
 
 AND AT CALCUTTA. 
 1891. 
 

 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED I3Y WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 With Murray, Baedeker, Guide Joanne, and half-a- 
 dozen others — all describing, and describing with 
 exactness, the antiquities and scenery — the writer of 
 a little account of Provence and Languedoc is driven 
 to give much of personal incident. When he attempts 
 to describe what objects he has seen, he is pulled up 
 by finding all the information he intended to give 
 in Murray or in Baedeker or Joanne. If he was in 
 exuberant spirits at the time, and enjoyed himself 
 vastly, he is unable, or unwilling, to withhold from his 
 readers some of the overflow of his good spirits. 
 That is my apology to the reader. If he reads my 
 little book when his liver is out of order, or in winter 
 fogs and colds — he will call me an ass, and I must 
 bear it. If he is in a cheerful mood himself, then we 
 shall agree very well together. 
 
 S. Baring-Gould. 
 Lew Trenchard, Devon, 
 October 28, 1890. 
 
 252365 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 The Tiber in Flood —Typhoid fever in Rome— Florence — A 
 Jew acquaintance — Drinking in Provence — Buying bric-a- 
 brac with the Jew — the carro on Easter Eve — Its real 
 Origin — My Jew friend's letters — Italian dolcefar niente . 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RIVIERA. 
 
 No ill without a counterbalancing advantage — An industry 
 peculiar to Italy — Italian honesty — Buffalo Bill at Naples 
 — The Prince and the straw-coloured gloves — The Riviera 
 — A tapestry — Nice — Its flowers— Notre Dame — The 
 chateau — My gardener — A pension of ugly women — Horses 
 and their hats— Antibes— Meeting of Honore IV. and 
 Napoleon — The Grimaldis — Lerins, an Isle of Saints —A 
 family jar — Healed . . . . . . 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FREJUS. 
 
 The freedman of Pliny —Forum Julii — The Port of Agay — 
 The Port of Frcjus — Roman castle — Aqueduct — The 
 lantern of Augustus— The cathedral —Cloisters — Boy and 
 dolphin— Story told by Pliny — The Chaine des Maures— 
 De'saugiers — Dines with the porkbutchers of Paris — Sieyes 
 — Sa/is phrase — Agricola — His discoveries . . • 3 1 
 
CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARSEILLES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The three islands Phoenice, Phila, Iturium — Marseilles first a 
 Phoenician colony— The tariff of fees exacted by the priests 
 of Baal — The arrival of the Ionians — The legend of Protis 
 and Gyptis — Second colony of Ionians — The voyages of 
 Pytheas and Euthymenes — Capture of Marseilles by Tre- 
 bonius — Position of the Greek city — The Acropolis — Greek 
 inscriptions — The lady who never " jawed " her husband — 
 The tomb of the sailor-boy — Hotel des Ne'gociants — 
 Menu — Entry of the President of the Republic— Entry of 
 Francis L — The church of S. Vincent — The cathedral 
 — Notre Dame de la Garde — The abbey of S. Victor— 
 Catacombs' — The fable of S. Lazarus . . . • 4 2 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CRAU. 
 
 The Basin of Berre — A neglected harbour — The diluvium- 
 Formation of the Crau— The two Craus— Canal of 
 Craponne — Climate of the Crau — The Use and mistral— 
 Force of the wind— Cypresses— A vision of kobolds . 5S 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LES ALYSCAMPS. 
 
 Difficulty of finding one's way about in Aries — The two inns — 
 The mistral— The charm of Aries is in the past — A dead 
 city— Situation of Aries on a nodule of limestone — The 
 Elysian Fields— A burial-place for the submerged neigh- 
 bourhood — The Alyscamp now in process of destruction — 
 Expropriation of ancient tombs — Avenue of tombs — Old 
 church of S. Honore'— S. Trophimus— S. Virgilius— Augus- 
 tine, apostle of the English, consecrated by him — The 
 flying Dutchman— Tomb of JE\\a— Of Julia Tyranna— Her 
 musical instruments— Monument of Calpumia — Her pro- 
 bable story— Mathematical versus classic studies — Tombs 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 of utricuhves — Christian sarcophagi — Probably older than 
 the date usually attributed to them— A French author on 
 the wreckage of the Elysian Fields . . . 67 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PAGAN ARLES. 
 
 The Aries race a mixture of Greek and Gaulish — The coloni- 
 sation by the Romans — The type of beauty in Aries — The 
 amphitheatre — A bull-baiting — Provencal bull-baits different 
 from Spanish bull-fights — The theatre — The ancient Greek 
 stage — The destruction of the Aries theatre — Excavation 
 of the orchestra — Discovery of the Venus of Aries — A sick 
 girl — Palace of Constantine ..... 84 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 Sunday in France — Improved observance — The cathedral of 
 Aries — West front — Interior — Tool-marks — A sermon on 
 peace — The cloisters— Old Sacristan and his garden — 
 Number of desecrated churches in Aries — Notre Dame de 
 la Majeur — S. Caesaire — The isles near Aries — Cordes — 
 Montinajeur — A gipsy camp — The ruins — Tower— The 
 chapel of S. Croix ....... 98 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LES BAUX. 
 
 The chain of the Alpines — The promontory of Les Baux — 
 The railway from Aries to Salon — First sight of Les Baux — 
 The churches of S. Victor, S. Claude, and S. Andrew — The 
 lords of Les Baux claimed descent from one of the Magi — 
 The fair maid with golden locks — The chapel of the White 
 Penitents — The damo — History of the House of Les Baux 
 — The barony passes to the Grimaldi — The ladies of Les 
 Baux and the troubadours — Fouquet — William de Cabe- 
 staing — The morality of the loves of the troubadours — The 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Porcelets — Story of a siege — Les Baux a place of refuge for 
 the citizens of Aries — Glanum Livice — Its Roman remains 
 — In the train — Jager garments . . . . .114 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 
 
 The Tremaie' — Representation of C. Marius, Martha, and 
 Julia- — The Gaie — The Teutons and Ambrons and Cimbri 
 threaten Italy — C. Marius sent against them — His camp at 
 S. Gabriel — The canal he cut — The barbarians cross the 
 Rhone — First brush with them— They defile before him at 
 Orgon — The rout of the Ambrons at Les Milles — He 
 follows the Teutons — The plain of Pourrieres — Position of 
 Marius — The battle — Slaughter of the Teutons — Position 
 of their camp — Monument of Marius — Venus Victrix — 
 Annual commemoration ...... 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 TRETS AND GARDANNE. 
 
 The fortifications of Trets — The streets — The church — 
 Roman sarcophagus — Chateau of Trets — Visit to a self- 
 educated archaeologist — His collection made on the battle- 
 field — Dispute over a pot of burnt bones — One magpie — 
 Gardanne — The church — A vielle — Trouble with it — Story 
 of an executioner's sword ...... 156 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Dooll, but the mutton good — Les Bains de Sextius — Ironwork 
 caps to towers — S. Jean de Malthe — Museum — Cathedral 
 Tapestries and tombs — The cloisters — View from S. 
 Eutrope — King Rene' of Anjou — His misfortunes — His 
 cheeriness — His statue at Aix — Introduces the Muscat 
 grape 168 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE CAMARGUE. 
 
 Formation of the delta of the Rhone— The diluvial wash— 
 The alluvium spread over this— The three stages the river 
 pursues— The zone of erosion— The zone of compensation 
 —The zone of deposit— River mouths— Estuaries and 
 deltas— The formation of bars— Of lagoons— The lagoons 
 of the Gulf of Lyons— The ancient position of Aries 
 between the river and the lagoons— Neglect of the lagoons 
 in the Middle Ages— They become morasses— Attempt at 
 remedy— Embankments and drains— A mistake made— 
 The Camargue now a desert— Les Saintes Maries— No 
 evidence to support the legend — Based on a misapprehen- 
 sion ....••••• 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Position of Tarascon and Beaucaire opposite each other- 
 Church of S. Martha— Crypt— Ancient paintings— Cate- 
 chising— Ancient altar— The festival of the Tarasque -The 
 Phoenician goddess Martha— Story of S. Fronto— Dis- 
 cussion at dejeuner over the entry of M. Carnot into Mar- 
 seilles—The change in the French character— Pessimism 
 —Beaucaire— Font— Castle— Siege by Raymond VII — 
 Story of Aucassin and Nicolette . 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 NIMES. 
 
 The right spelling of Nimes— Derivation of name— The foun 
 tam — Throwing coins into springs— Collecting coins — 
 Symbol of Agrippa— Character of Agrippa— What he did 
 for Nimes— The Maison Carree— Different idea of worship 
 in the Heathen world from what prevails in Christendom 
 — S. Baudille— Vespers — Activity of the Church in 
 France— Behaviour of the clergy in Italy to the King and 
 Queen— The Revolution a blessing to the Church in 
 
 i77 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 France — Church services in Italy and in France — The 
 Tourmagne — -Uncertainty as to its use — Cathedral of 
 Nimes — Other churches — A canary lottery — Altars to the 
 Sun — The sun-wheel — The cross of Constantine — 
 Anecdote of Fle'chier ....... 203 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AIGUKS MORTES AND MAGUELONNE. 
 
 A dead town — The Rhones-morts — Bars — S. Louis and the 
 Crusades — How S. Louis acquired Aigues Mortes — His 
 canal — The four littoral chains and lagoons — The fortifica- 
 tions — Unique for their date — Original use of battlements 
 — Deserted state of the town — Maguelonne — How reached 
 — History of Maguelonne — Cathedral — The Bishops forge 
 Saracen coins — Second destruction of the place — Inscrip- 
 tion on door — Bernard de Treviis — His romance of Pierre 
 de Provence — Provencal poetry not always immoral — 
 Present state of Maguelonne ..... 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BfiziERS AND NAR BONNE. 
 
 Position of Beziers— S. Nazaire— The Albigenses— Their 
 tenets — Albigensian " consolation "—Crusade against them 
 — The storming of Beziers — Massacre — Cathedral of 
 Beziers— Girls' faces in the train— Similar faces at Nar- 
 bonne, in cathedral and museum — Narbonne a Roman 
 colony— All the Roman buildings destroyed— Caps of 
 liberty— Christian sarcophagi— Children's toys of baked 
 clay— Cathedral unfinished— Archiepiscopal palace — Un- 
 satisfactory work of M. Viollet-le-Duc— In trouble with the 
 police— Taken for a German spy — My sketch-book gets 
 me off 
 
 219 
 
 237 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 CARCASSONNE. 
 
 Siege of Carcassonne by the Crusaders— Capture— Perfidy of 
 legate— Death of the Viscount— Continuation of the war- 
 Churches of New Carcassonne— La Cite—K perfect 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Mediaeval fortified town — Disappointing — Visigoth forti- 
 fications — Later additions— The cathedral — Tomb of 
 Simon de Montfort ....... 
 
 PACE 
 
 '5i 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 / 
 
 AVIGNON. 
 
 How Avignon passed to the Popes — The court of Clement VI. 
 — John XXII. — Benedict XII. — Their tombs — Petrarch 
 and Laura — The Palace of the Popes — The Salle Brule'e — 
 Cathedral— Porch— S. Agricole— Church of S. Pierre— The 
 museum — View from the Rocher des doms — The Rhone — 
 The bridge — Story of S. Benezet — Dancing on bridges — 
 Villeneuve — Tomb of Innocent VI. — The castle at Ville- 
 neuve — -Defences — Tete-du-pont of the bridge . .261 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 VALENCE. 
 
 A dull town — Cathedral — Jacques Cujas — His daughter — 
 Pius VI.- — His death — Maison des Tetes — Le Pendentif — 
 The castle of Crussol — The dukes of Uzes — A dramatic 
 company of the thirteenth century .... 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 VIENNE. 
 
 Historic associations — Salvation Army bonnets — The fair — A 
 quack — A vampire — The amphitrite — A carousel — Temple 
 of Augustus and Livia — The Aiguille — Cathedral — Angels 
 and musical instruments — S. Andre'-le-Bas — Situation of 
 Vienne — Foundation of the Church there — Letter of the 
 Church on the martyrdoms at Lyons . . . • 294 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 BOURGES. 
 
 The siege of Avaricum by Csesar — The complete subjugation 
 of Gaul — The statue of the Dying Gaul at Rome — Beauty 
 of Bourges— The cathedral — Not completed according to 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 design — Defect in height — Strict geometrical proportion 
 in design not always satisfactory — Necessity of proportion 
 for acoustics — Domestic architecture in Bourges — -The 
 house of Jacques Cceur — Story of his life— A rainy day — 
 Why Bourges included in this book — A silver thimble — 
 Que de singeries faites-t ous Id, Madeleine ? — Adieu . 307 
 
 Appendix ......... 325 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Tower of S. Trophimus, Aries . 
 
 Abbey of S. Victor, Marseilles . 
 
 Part of the North Cloister of Aries Cathedral 
 
 Les Baux ...... 
 
 The Pont du Gard 
 
 Be'ziers from the River .... 
 
 An Entrance to Carcassonne . 
 
 The Cathedral and the Palace of the Popes, Avu 
 
 Frontispiece 
 To face page 55 
 104 
 118 
 208 
 238 
 254 
 268 
 
 GENERAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Carro 
 
 A Florentine Torch Holder 
 
 A Horse in a Hat ..... 
 
 Lcrins ....... 
 
 Aqueduct of Frejus. .... 
 
 Lantern of Augustus .... 
 
 Map of Massalia ..... 
 
 Musical Instruments from the Tomb of Julia 
 Calpurnia's Monument .... 
 
 An Arelaise. {From a Photograph.) . 
 
 Part of the Amphitheatre of Aries 
 
 Back of a House at Aries .... 
 
 A Boat with two rudders at Aries 
 
 On a House at Aries .... 
 
 Samson and the Lion, from the West door of the 
 Aries ...... 
 
 On a House at Aries .... 
 
 South Entrance to the Cloister, Aries Cathedral 
 Church of Notre Dame de la Majeur, Aries. 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Tower of the desecrated Church of S. Croix, Aries 
 
 Part of the Courtyard of the Convent of S. Caesarius, Aries 
 
 Church of the Penitents Gris, Aries . 
 
 In the Cloisters, Montmajeur . 
 
 In the Cloister at Aries . 
 
 Les Baux ..... 
 
 Range of the Alpines from Glanum Liviae 
 
 Ruins S. Gabriel . . 
 
 La Tremaie ..... 
 
 Les Gaie ..... 
 
 Caius Marius. {From a bust in the Vatican.) 
 
 Orgon and the Durance . 
 
 Mont Victoire and the Plain of Pourrieres 
 
 Sketch Plan of the Battle-fields . 
 
 Monument of Marius 
 
 Venus Victrix .... 
 
 Girdanne ..... 
 
 TheVielle 
 
 Les Saintes Maries .... 
 
 Early Altar, Tarascon 
 
 Spire of S. Martha's Church, Tarascon 
 
 Iron Door to Safe in S. Martha's Church 
 
 King Rene's Castle, Tarascon - 
 
 A bit in Tarascon .... 
 
 The Chapel of Beaucaire Castle 
 
 Beaucaire Castle from Tarascon. — Sunset 
 
 In the Public Garden, Nimes . 
 
 The Maison Carree, Nimes 
 
 Cathedral of Nimes.— Part of West Front 
 
 Aigues Mortes. — One of the Gates 
 
 Aigues Mortes. — Tower of the Bourgignons 
 
 Sketch Map of Aigues Mortes and its Littoral Chain 
 
 Original use of Battlements. {From Viottet-k-Duc.) 
 
 Second stage of Battlements .... 
 
 East End of the Church of Maguelonne 
 
 Beziers. — Church of S. Nazaire . 
 
 Fountain in the Cloister of S. Nazaire, Beziers 
 
 Types of faces, Narbonne : Modern — Sixteenth-Century Tomb 
 
 in Cathedral— Classic Bust in Museum 
 Freedmen's Caps, Narbonne 
 Children's Toys in the Museum, Narbonne . 
 Towers on the Wall, Carcassonne 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 A Bit of Carcassonne 
 
 Inside the Wall, Carcassonne . 
 
 Papal Throne in the Cathedral of Avignon 
 
 John XXII 
 
 Benedict XII 
 
 An Angle of the Papal Palace, Avignon 
 
 Lantern at the Cathedral, Avignon . 
 
 Angel at West Door, Church of S. Agricole 
 
 A Bit of the Old Wall, Avignon 
 
 Part of Church of S. Didier, Avignon . 
 
 Bridge and Chapel of S. Benezet 
 
 At Villeneuve .... 
 
 Castle of S. Andre', at Villeneuve 
 
 At Villeneuve .... 
 
 A Well at Villeneuve 
 
 Cathedral of Valence 
 
 Doorway in the House Dupre Latour, Valence 
 
 Doorway and Niche in the Maison des Tetes, Valence 
 
 House in Vienne .... 
 
 At Vienne ..... 
 
 Hurdy-Gurdy Played by an Angel 
 
 Church of S. Andre'-le-Bas.— The Tower 
 
 Porte de l'Ambulance, Vienne . 
 
 A Street Corner, Bourges 
 
 Part of Jacques Cceur's House . 
 
 Turret in the Hotel Lallemand . 
 
 Staircase in the Hotel Lallemand 
 
 Sculpture over the Kitchen Entrance at Jacques Cceur's 
 
 Jacques Cceur's Knocker. .... 
 
 PAGE 
 256 
 258 
 264 
 265 
 265 
 266 
 269 
 270 
 271 
 
 273 
 274 
 276 
 278 
 280 
 28l 
 284 
 286 
 289 
 297 
 299 
 303 
 304 
 3°5 
 3IO 
 
 3^ 
 3i9 
 320 
 House 323 
 . 3 2 4 
 
ERRATUM. 
 
 Frontispiece. — For St. Trophine, read St. Trophimus. 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 The Tiber in Flood— Typhoid fever in Rome— Florence — A Jew 
 
 acquaintance— Drinking in Provence— Buying bric-a-brac with 
 
 , the Jew— The carro on Easter Eve — Its real Origin 
 
 ^k^ — My Jew friend's letters — Italian dolcefar niente. 
 
 ^T' : >> v 
 
 T"£ 
 
 M *«l||j| i S! fill Inl 
 
 onceive yourself confronted by a pop-gun, 
 
 some ten feet in diameter, charged with 
 
 mephitic vapours and plugged with microbes of 
 
 typhoid fever. Conceive your sensations when you 
 
 were aware that the piston was being driven home. 
 
 That was my situation in March, 1890, when I got 
 
 B 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 a letter from Messrs. Allen asking me to go into 
 Provence and Languedoc, and write them a book 
 thereon. I dodged the microbe, and went. 
 
 To make myself understood I must explain. 
 
 I was in Rome. For ten days with a sirocco wind 
 the rains had descended, as surely they had never 
 come down since the windows of heaven were opened 
 at the Flood. The Tiber rose thirty-two feet. Now 
 Rome is tunnelled under the streets with drains or 
 sewers that carry all the refuse of a great city into the 
 Tiber. But, naturally, when the Tiber swells high 
 above the crowns of the sewers, they are choked. All 
 the foulness of the great town is held back under the 
 houses and streets, and breeds gases loathsome to the 
 nose and noxious to life. Not only so, but a column 
 of water, some twenty to twenty-five feet in height, is 
 acting like the piston of a pop-gun, and is driving all 
 the accumulated gases charged with the germs of 
 typhoid fever into every house which has communica- 
 tion with the sewers. There is no help for it, the 
 poisonous vapours must be forced out of the drains 
 and must be forced into the houses. That is why, 
 with a rise of the Tiber, typhoid fever is certain to 
 break out in Rome. 
 
 As I went over Ponte S. Angelo I was wont to 
 look over the parapet at the opening of the sewer that 
 carried off the dregs of that portion of the city where I 
 was residing. One day I looked for it, and looked in 
 vain. The Tiber had swelled and was overflowing its 
 banks, and for a week or fortnight there could be no 
 question, not a sewer in the vast city would be free to 
 do anything else but mischief. I did not go on to the 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Vatican galleries that day. I could not have enjoyed 
 the statues in the Braccio Nuovo, nor the frescoes in 
 the Loggia. I went home, found Messrs. Allen's 
 letter, packed my Gladstone bag, and bolted. I shall 
 never learn who got the microbe destined for me, 
 which I dodged. 
 
 I went to Florence ; at the inn where I put up — 
 one genuinely Italian, Bonciani's, — I made an acquaint- 
 ance, a German Jew, a picture-dealer with a shop in 
 a certain capital, no matter which, editor of a bric-a- 
 brac paper, and a right merry fellow. I introduce 
 him to the reader because he afforded me some 
 information concerning Provence. He had a branch 
 establishment — never mind where, but in Provence — 
 and he had come to Florence to pick up pictures and 
 bric-a-brac. 
 
 Our acquaintance began as follows. We sat 
 opposite each other at table in the evening. A large 
 rush-encased flask is set before each guest in a swing 
 carriage, that enables him to pour out his glassful 
 from the big-bellied flask without effort. Each flask 
 is labelled variously Chianti, Asti, Pomino, but all the 
 wines have a like substance and flavour, and each is 
 an equally good light dinner-wine. A flask when full 
 costs three francs twenty centimes ; and .when the 
 guest falls back in his seat, with a smile of satisfaction 
 on his face, and his heart full of good will towards all 
 men, for that he has done his dinner, then the bottle 
 is taken out, weighed, and the guest charged the 
 amount of wine he has consumed. He gets a fresh 
 flask at every meal. 
 ■ -— " Du lieber Himmel ! " exclaimed my vis-ct-vis. " I 
 
IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 do b'lieve I hev drunk dree francs. Take up de 
 flasche and weigh her. Tink so ? " 
 
 " I can believe it without weighing the bottle," I 
 replied. 
 
 " And only four sous — twenty centimes left ! " 
 exclaimed the old gentleman, meditatively. " But 
 four sous is four sous. It is de price of mine paper " 
 — brightening in his reflections — " I can but shell one 
 copy more, and I am all right." Brightening to greater 
 brilliancy as he turns to me : " Will you buy de last 
 number of my paper? She is in my pocket. She 
 is ver' interesting. Oh ! ver' so. Moche information 
 for two pence." 
 
 " I shall be charmed," I said, and extended twenty 
 centimes across the table. 
 
 " Ach Tausend ! Dass ist herrlich ! " and he drew 
 off the last drops of Pomino. " Now I will tell you 
 vun ding. Hev you been in Provence ? " 
 
 " Provence ! Why — I am on my way there, now." 
 
 " Den listen to me. Ebery peoples hev different 
 ways of doing de same ding. You go into a cabaret 
 dere, and you ask for wine. De patron brings you a 
 bottle, and at de same time looks at de clock and wid 
 a bit of chalk he mark you down your time. You say 
 you will drink at two pence, or dree pence, or four pence. 
 You drink at dat price you have covenanted for one 
 hour, you drink at same price anodder hour, and you 
 sleep — but you pay all de same, wedder you drink or 
 wedder you sleep, two pence, or dree pence, or four 
 pence de hour. It is an old custom. You under- 
 stand? It is de custom of de country — of La belle 
 Provence." 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 " I quite understand that it is to the interest of the 
 taverner to make his customers drunk." 
 
 " Drunk! " repeated my Mosaic acquaintance. "I 
 will tell you one ding more, ver characteristic of de 
 nationalities. A Frenchman — il bolt ; a German — er 
 sauft; and an Englishman — he gets fresh. Der you 
 hev de natures of de dree peoples as in a picture. De 
 Frenchman, he looks to de moment, and not beyond. 
 II boit. De German, he looks to de end. Er sauft. 
 De Englishman, he sits down fresh and intends to get 
 fuddled ; but he is a hypocrite. He does not say de 
 truth to hisself nor to nobody, he says, / will get fresh, 
 when he means de odder ding. Big humbug. You 
 understand ? " 
 
 One morning my Jew friend said to me : " Do you 
 want to see de, what you call behind-de-scenes of 
 Florence ? Ver' well, you come wid me. I am going 
 after pictures." 
 
 He had a carriage at the door. I jumped in with 
 him, and we spent the day in driving about the town, 
 visiting palaces and the houses of professional men 
 and tradesmen — of all who were " down on their luck," 
 and wanted to part with art-treasures. Here we 
 entered a palace, of roughed stone blocks after the 
 ancient Florentine style, where a splendid porter with 
 cocked hat, a silver-headed bdton, and gorgeous livery 
 kept guard. Up the white marble stairs, into stately 
 halls overladen with gilding, the walls crowded with 
 paintings in cumbrous but resplendent frames. Prince 
 So-and-So had got into financial difficulties, and 
 wanted to part with some of his heirlooms. 
 
 There we entered a mean door in a back street, 
 
IN TR UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 ascended a dirty stair, and came into a suite of 
 apartments, where a dishevelled woman in a dirty 
 split dressing-gown received us and showed us into 
 her husband's sanctum, crowded with rare old paintings 
 on gold grounds. Her good man had been a collector 
 of the early school of art ; now he was ill, he could 
 not attend to his business, he might not recover, and 
 whilst he was ill his wife was getting rid of some of 
 his treasures. 
 
 There we entered the mansion of a widow, who had 
 lost her husband recently, a rich merchant. The heirs 
 were quarrelling over the spoil, and she was in a hurry 
 to make what she could for herself before a valuer 
 came to reckon the worth of the paintings and silver 
 and cabinets. 
 
 In that day I saw many sides of life. 
 
 " But how in the world," I asked of my guide, "did 
 you know that all these people were wanting to 
 sell?" 
 
 " I have my agents ebbery where," was his reply. 
 
 I thought of the Diable boiteux carrying the 
 student of Alcala over the city, Madrid, removing the 
 roofs of the houses, and exposing to his view the 
 stories of the lives and miseries of those within. 
 
 I was at Florence on Easter Eve. A ceremony of 
 a very peculiar character takes place there on that day 
 at noon. In the morning a monstrous black structure 
 on wheels, some twenty-five feet high, is brought into 
 the square before the cathedral by oxen, garlanded 
 with flowers. This erection, the carro, is also 
 decorated with flowers, but is likewise covered with 
 fireworks. A rope is then extended from the carro to 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 a pole which is set up in the choir of the Duomo, 
 before the high altar. For this purpose the great west 
 doors are thrown open, and the rope extends the 
 whole length of the nave. Upon it, close to the pole, 
 is perched a white dove of plaster. 
 
 Crowds assemble both in the square and in the 
 nave of the cathedral. Peasants from the countryside 
 come in in bands, and before 
 the hour of noon every van- 
 tage place is occupied, and 
 the square and the streets 
 commanding it are filled with 
 a sea of heads. 
 
 At half-past eleven, the 
 archbishop, the canons, the 
 choir, go down the nave in 
 procession, and make the cir- 
 cuit of the Duomo, then re- 
 enter the cathedral, take their 
 places in the choir, and 
 the mass for Easter Eve s 
 is begun. At the Gospel 
 — at the stroke of twelve, 
 a match is applied to a 
 fusee, and instantly the white dove flies along the 
 rope, pouring forth a tail of fire, down the nave, 
 out at the west gates, over the heads of the crowd, 
 reaches the carro, ignites a fusee there, turns, and, 
 still propelled by its fiery tail, whizzes along the cord 
 again, till it has reached its perch on the pole in 
 the choir, when the fire goes out and it remains 
 stationary. But in the meantime the match ignited by 
 
 £ 
 
 The Carro. 
 
IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 the dove has communicated with the squibs and 
 crackers attached to the carro, and the whole mass of 
 painted wood and flowers is enveloped in fire and 
 smoke, from which issue sheets of flame and loud 
 detonations. Meanwhile, mass is being sung com- 
 posedly within the choir, as though nothing was 
 happening without. The fireworks continue to 
 explode for about a quarter of an hour, and then the 
 great garlanded oxen, white, with huge horns, are 
 reyoked to the carro, and it is drawn away. 
 
 The flight of the dove for its course of about 540 
 feet is watched by the peasants with breathless 
 attention, for they take its easy or jerky flight as 
 ominous of the weather for the rest of the year and of 
 the prospects of harvest. If the bird sails along 
 without a hitch, then the summer will be fine, but if 
 there be sluggishness of movement, and one halt, then 
 another, the year is sure to be one of storms and late 
 frosts and hail. 
 
 Now what is the origin of this extraordinary 
 custom — a custom that is childish, and yet is so 
 curious that one would hardly wish to see it 
 abolished ? 
 
 Several stories are told to explain it, none very 
 satisfactory. According to one, a Florentine knight 
 was in the crusading host of Godfrey de Bouillon, and 
 was the first to climb the walls of Jerusalem, and plant 
 thereon the banner of the Cross. He at once sent 
 tidings of the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre back to 
 his native town by a carrier pigeon, and thus the 
 Florentines received the glad tidings long before it 
 reached any other city in Europe. In token of their 
 
INTROD UCTOR Y. 
 
 gladness at the news, they instituted the ceremony of 
 the white pigeon and the carro on Easter Eve. 
 
 Another story is to the effect that this Florentine 
 entered the city of Jerusalem before the first crusade, 
 broke off a large fragment of the Holy Sepulchre, and 
 carried it to Florence. He was pursued by the 
 Saracens, but escaped by shoeing his horse with 
 
 reversed irons, 
 sion is that he 
 back to Florence 
 that burnt in the 
 Holy Sepulchre, 
 lighted thereat a 
 back to Italy 
 flaming. But to 
 the wind, he rode 
 the tail of his 
 the torch with 
 thus rode, folk 
 shouted " Pazzi ! 
 Fool ! and this 
 sumed by his 
 The Pazzis of 
 year paid all the 
 carro till quite 
 
 A Florentine Torch 
 Holder. 
 
 Another ver- 
 resolved to bring 
 the sacred flame 
 Church of the 
 Accordingly he 
 torch, and rode 
 with the torch 
 protect it from 
 with his face to 
 steed, screening 
 his body. As he 
 who saw him 
 Pazzi ! " — Fool ! 
 name was as- 
 family ever after. 
 Florence every 
 expenses of the 
 recently, when 
 
 the Municipality assumed the charge and now defray 
 it from the city chest. Clearly the origin of the 
 custom is forgotten ; nevertheless it is not difficult to 
 explain the meaning of the ceremony. 
 
 In the Eastern Church, and still, in many churches 
 in the West, the lights are extinguished on Good 
 Friday, and formerly this was the case with all fires, 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 those of the domestic hearth as well as the lamps in 
 church. On Easter Day, fresh fire was struck with 
 flint and steel by the bishop, and all candles, lamps and 
 hearths were rekindled from this new light. At the 
 present day one of the most solemn scenes in the 
 Eastern Church is this kindling of the Easter fire, 
 and its communication from one to another in a vast 
 congregation assembled to receive it and carry it off to 
 their homes. In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre 
 at Jerusalem, the new fire kindled and blessed by the 
 patriarch, is cast down from the height of the dome. 
 
 In Florence, anciently, it was much the same. The 
 archbishop struck the Easter fire, and it was then 
 distributed among the people ; but there were incon- 
 veniences, unseemly scuffles, accidents even, and 
 the dove was devised as a means of conveying the 
 Easter fire outside the Duomo, and kindling a great 
 bonfire, whereat the people might light their torches 
 without desecrating the sacred building by scrambling 
 and fighting therein for the hallowed flame. At this 
 bonfire all could obtain the fire without inconvenience. 
 By degrees the bonfire lost its significance, so did the 
 dove, and fables were invented to explain the custom. 
 The bonfire, moreover, degenerated into an exhibition 
 of fireworks at mid-day. 
 
 One morning my Jew friend insisted on my reading 
 a letter he had just received from his daughter, aged 
 fourteen. He was proud of the daughter, and highly 
 pleased with the letter. 
 
 It began thus : " Cher papa — nous sommes sauves. 
 That picture of a Genoese lady you bought for 200 
 francs, and doubted if you would be able to get 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 rid of, I sold before we left home for Provence to 
 an American, as a genuine Queen Elizabeth for 1,000 
 francs." Then followed three closely-written pages of 
 record of business transactions, all showing a balance 
 to the good, all showing a profit nowhere under thirty 
 per cent. Finally, the letter concluded: "Mamma's 
 back is better. Louis and I went on Sunday to see a 
 farm. A cow, a stable, an old peasantess saying her 
 rosary, a daughter knitting — all real, not waxwork. 
 Votre fille tres devouee, Leah." 
 
 " That is a girl to be proud of," said my acquaint- 
 ance. " And only fourteen ! But hein ! here is 
 another letter I have received, and it is awkward." 
 He told me that when he had been in London on 
 business he had lodged in the house of a couple who 
 were not on the best of terms. The husband had been 
 a widower with one child, a daughter, and the step- 
 mother could not abide the child. Whilst M. Cohen, 
 my friend, was there, the quarrels had been many, and 
 he had done his best to smooth matters between the 
 parties. Then he had invited them over to visit the 
 Continent and stay at his house. They had come, 
 and he had again to exercise the office of mediator. 
 " And now," lamented my good-hearted friend, 
 " nebber one week but I get a letter from de leddy. 
 Here is dis, sent on to me. Read it." The letter 
 ran as follows : — 
 
 " Do write to me. I fear my last letter cannot have 
 reached you, or you would have answered it. I am 
 miserable. My husband is so cross about that little 
 girl, because I cannot love the nasty little beast. Oh, 
 Mr. Cohen, do come to London, or let me come 
 
IN TR UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 abroad and live in your house away from my husband 
 and that child. You were so sensible and so kind. I 
 can't bear to be longer here in the house with my 
 husband and the spoiled child." 
 
 My friend looked disconsolately at me. 
 
 "What am I to do?" he asked. "She writes 
 ebery week, and I don't answer. And my wife sends 
 on dese letters." 
 
 " Do ? " said I. " Send this one at once to Madame 
 Cohen, and ask her to answer it for you. That 
 London lady will never trouble you again." 
 
 The following circumstance I relate, not that it 
 has the smallest importance except as a charac- 
 teristic sketch of Italian dolce far niente, and as a 
 lesson to travellers. The proper study of mankind is 
 man, and a little incident such as occurred to me, and 
 which I will now relate, raises the curtain and shows 
 us a feature of humanity in Italy. When I hurried 
 from Rome, I sent off all my luggage by goods train to 
 England, except such articles as I could compress into 
 a Gladstone bag ; a change of raiment of course was 
 there. But mark the cruelty of fate. My foot slipped 
 on a white marble stair, and I rent a certain garment 
 at the knee. I at once dived into my Gladstone bag 
 and produced another pair, but found with a shock 
 that they also had suffered — become threadbare, and 
 needed attention from a tailor. What was to be done ? 
 I had to leave Florence at noon. The discovery was 
 made the night before. I rose early, breakfasted 
 early, and hung about the shop door of a tailor at 
 S a.m. till the door was opened, when I entered, stated 
 my case, and the obliging sartore promised that the 
 
INTR OD UCTOR Y. i 3 
 
 trifling remedy should be applied and I should have 
 my garment again in one hour. "In one hour ! " he 
 said, holding up his hand in solemn asseveration. 
 
 Nine o'clock came ; then ten, and my raiment had 
 not returned. I flew to the tailor's shop and asked 
 for my garment. "It was all right," said he, "only 
 the thread being knotted. It should be sent to my 
 inn." So I returned and waited. I had my lunch, 
 paid my bill, packed my bag, looked at my watch. 
 The omnibus was at the door. No garment. I ran 
 to the tailor's. He listened to my tale of distress with 
 an amiable smile on his face, then volunteered to 
 come with me to my inn, and talk the matter over 
 with the host. Accordingly he locked up his shop 
 and sauntered with me to Bonciani's. Bonciani and 
 he considered the circumstances at length, thrashed 
 the subject thoroughly. Then, as the horses were 
 being put into the omnibus — "Come," said the tailor, 
 " I have a brother, a grocer, we will go to him." 
 
 "But why?" asked I. "Do you see, the boxes 
 are being put on the omnibus. I want my — gar- 
 ment." 
 
 " You must come with me to my brother's," said the 
 tailor. So to the grocer's went we. Vainly did I 
 trust that the journeyman who was engaged on my 
 article of apparel lodged there, and that, done or 
 undone, I could recover it thence. But no — not 
 so. The whole story was related with embellishments 
 to the brother, the grocer, who listened, discussed, 
 commented on, the matter. 
 
 " There goes the 'bus ! " I shouted, looking down the 
 street. " Even now, if you will let me have the 
 
I4 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 article, I can run to the station and get off; I have 
 my ticket." 
 
 " Subito ! subito ! " said the tailor. 
 
 Then the grocer said that the thing in request 
 might be sent by post. " But," I replied, "I am going 
 into France, to Nice, and clothes are subjected to 
 burdensome charges if carried across the frontier." 
 
 " Ten minutes ! " I gasped. " Almost too late." 
 
 A moment later — 
 
 " Appunto ! " 
 
 " The clock is striking. I am done for." 
 
 " Appunto ! " and he lighted a cigarette. 
 
 So I had to travel by night, instead of by day. 
 
( T 5 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RIVIERA. 
 
 No ill without a counterbalancing advantage — An industry peculiar 
 to Italy — Italian honesty — Buffalo Bill at Naples — The Prince 
 and the straw-coloured gloves — The Riviera — A tapestry — Nice — 
 
 Its flowers — Notre Dame — 
 The chateau — My gardener — 
 A pension of ugly women — 
 Horses and their hats — An- 
 tibes — Meeting of Honore 
 IV. and Napoleon — The 
 Grimaldis — LeVins, an Isle of 
 Saints— A family jar — Healed. 
 
 was not all. The dawd- 
 ling of the tailor not 
 only made me lose the 
 mid-day train, but delayed my 
 arrival in Nice for twenty-four 
 hours. I took the night train to 
 Pisa, where I purposed catching the express from 
 Rome. But the express came slouching along in a 
 hands-in-the-pocket sort of way, and was over half-an- 
 hour late, and would not bestir itself to pick up the 
 misspent, lost moments between Pisa and Genoa, the 
 consequence of which was that the train for Nice had 
 gone on without waiting, and accordingly those who 
 desired to prosecute their journey in that direction 
 
! 6 IN TROUBADO UR-LA ND. 
 
 were obliged to loiter about in the small hours of 
 the morning between a restaurant, half asleep, and a 
 waiting-room where the electric light had gone out, 
 till the hour of seven. 
 
 Before leaving Italy, I may mention an industry 
 which I found cultivated there, original, and I believe 
 unique. When I procured postage stamps at the post- 
 offices, I was surprised, if I took them home with me, 
 to find that their adhesive power had failed. I also 
 received indignant letters from correspondents in 
 England remonstrating with me for posting my 
 communications to them unstamped. This surprised 
 me, and at Rome, where I had been accustomed to 
 purchase franco-bolli at the head office, I took them 
 home and regummed them. But the remarkable 
 phenomenon was, that such stamps as were purchased 
 at tobacconists' shops had gum on them — only those 
 acquired at the post-offices were without. I learned 
 that the same peculiarity existed at Florence, and 
 indeed elsewhere in Italy, and finally the explanation 
 was vouchsafed to me. The functionary at the post- 
 office passes a wet sponge over the back of the sheets 
 of franco-bolli supplied to him, thus removing the 
 adhesive matter. When he sells stamps at the window, 
 he hopes that those who purchase will proceed at once 
 to apply them to their letters, without perceiving their 
 deficiencies. As soon as the stamp becomes dry it 
 Rills off, and quite a collection of stamps of sundry 
 values can thus be gathered at every clearing of 
 the box, and the postal clerk reaps thence a daily 
 harvest that goes a long way towards the eking out 
 the small pittance paid him by Government. It is 
 
7 HE RIVIERA. 17 
 
 interesting to see the directions taken by human 
 enterprise. 
 
 Whilst I was in Rome, Buffalo Bill was in Naples 
 exhibiting his troupe of horses and gang of Indians. 
 The Italian papers informed the public of a remarkable 
 exploit achieved by the Neapolitans. They had done 
 Buffalo Bill out of two thousand francs. It had been 
 effected in this wise. His reserved seats were charged 
 five francs. Four hundred forged five-franc notes 
 were passed at the door of his show by well-dressed 
 Neapolitans, indeed, the Slite of Neapolitan society ; 
 and the trick played on him was not discovered till too 
 late. Now consider what this implies. It implies that 
 some hundreds of the best people, princes, counts, 
 marquesses at Naples lent themselves to see Buffalo 
 Bill's exhibition by a fraud. They wanted to see and 
 be seen there, but not to pay five francs for a seat. 
 There must have been combination, and that among 
 the members of the aristocracy of Naples. The 
 Italian papers did not mention this in a tone of disgust, 
 but rather in one of surprise that Italians should 
 have been able to overreach a Yankee. But I do not 
 believe such a fraud would have been perpetrated 
 at Rome, Florence, or Milan. It was considered 
 quite in its place at Naples. 
 
 A lady of my acquaintance was staying in a pension 
 at Naples. There resided at the time, in the same 
 pension, a prince — Neapolitan, be it understood. One 
 day, just before she left, she brought in a packet of kid 
 gloves she had purchased, among them one pair, 
 straw-coloured. She laid them on the table, went out 
 for two minutes, leaving the prince in the room with 
 
 c 
 
j 8 IN TRO UBAD UR-LA ND. 
 
 the gloves. On her return, the prince and the straw- 
 coioured gloves were gone. She made inquiries of the 
 landlady, who, when told that the prince had been in 
 the room, laughed and said : "But of course he has 
 them. You should never leave anything in the room 
 unguarded where there is a prince." Two days after 
 the departure of this lady, the straw-coloured gloves 
 were produced by his highness and presented by him 
 to a young lady whom he admired, then in the same 
 pension. 
 
 No evil comes without a counterbalancing good. 
 The day I was detained in Florence by that tailor, 
 and the loss of the night train at Genoa were not 
 immense evils. A furious gale broke over the coast, 
 and when at seven in the morning we steamed out of 
 Genoa, the Mediterranean was sullen, the rain poured 
 down, and the mountains were enveloped in vapour. 
 But as we proceeded along the coast the weather 
 improved, and before long every cloud was gone, the 
 sky became blue as a gentian, and the oranges flamed 
 in the sunshine as we swept between the orchards. 
 Had I gone by the noon train from Florence I should 
 have travelled this road by night, had I caught the 
 3.27 a.m. train I should have seen nothing for storm 
 and cloud. And — what a glorious, what an unrivalled 
 road that is! It was like passing through a gallery- 
 hung with Renaissance tapestry, all in freshness of 
 colour. The sea deep blue and green like a pea- 
 cock's neck, the mountains pale yellow, as shown 
 in tapestry, with blue shadows ; the silvery-grey 
 olives, the glossy orange trees with their fruit — 
 exactly as in tapestry. Surely the old weavers of 
 
THE RIVIERA. 
 
 those wondrous webs studied this coast and copied it 
 in their looms. 
 
 I have said that the sea was like a peacock's neck ; 
 but it had a brilliancy above even that. As I have 
 mentioned tapestry I may say that it resembled a sort 
 of tapestry that is very rare and costly, of which I have 
 seen a sample in a private collection at Frankfort, and 
 another in the Palazzo Bardini at Florence. It 
 consists of the threads being drawn over plates of gold 
 and silver. In the piece at Florence the effect of the 
 sun shining through a tree is thus produced by gold 
 leaf under the broidery of tree-leaves. Silver leaf is 
 employed for water, with blue silk drawn in lines over 
 it. So with the sea. There seemed to be silver 
 burnished to its greatest polish below, over which the 
 water was drawn as a blue lacquer. 
 
 And Nice. What shall I say of that bright and 
 laughing city — with its shops of flowers, its avenues of 
 trees through which run the streets, its gardens, its 
 pines and cactus and aloe walks ? Only one blemish 
 can I pick out in Nice, and that is a hideous modern 
 Gothic church, Notre Dame, filled with detestable 
 garish glass, so utterly faulty in design, so full of 
 blemish of every sort, that the best wish one could 
 make for the good people of Nice is that the next 
 earthquake that visits the Riviera may shake this 
 wretched structure to pieces, so as to give them an 
 opportunity of erecting another in its place which is 
 not a monstrosity. 
 
 The Avenue de la Gare is planted with the 
 eucalyptus, that has attained a considerable size. It is 
 not a beautiful tree, its leaves are ever on the droop, 
 
 c 2 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 as though the tree were unhealthy or unhappy, sulky 
 at being transplanted to Europe, dissatisfied with the 
 climate, displeased with the soil, discontented with its 
 associates. It struck me as very much like a good 
 number of excellent and very useful souls with 
 whom I am acquainted, who never take a cheerful 
 view of life, are always fault-finding, hole-picking, 
 worry-discovering, eminently good in their place as 
 febrifuges, but not calculated to brighten their neigh- 
 bourhood. 
 
 What a delightful walk is that on the cliff of the 
 chateau ! The day I was at Nice was the 9th of April. 
 The crags were rich with colour, the cytisus waving its 
 golden hair, the pelargonium blazing scarlet, beds of 
 white stock wafting fragrance, violets scrambling over 
 every soft bank of deep earth exhaling fragrance ; roses, 
 not many in flower, but their young leaves in masses of 
 claret-red ; wherever a ledge allowed it, there pansies 
 of velvety blue and black and brown had been planted. 
 In a hot sun I climbed the chateau cliff to where the 
 water, conveyed to the summit, dribbled and dropped, 
 or squirted and splashed, nourishing countless fronds 
 of fern and beds of moss, and many a bog plaat. The 
 cedars and umbrella pines in the spring sun exhaled 
 their aromatic breath, and the flowering birch rained 
 down its yellow dust over one from its swaying 
 catkins. 
 
 I see I have spoken of the cytisus. I may be 
 excused mentioning an anecdote that the sight of this 
 plant provokes in my mind every spring. I had a 
 gardener — a queer, cantankerous creature, who never 
 saw a joke, even when he made one. " Please, 
 
THE RIVIERA. 
 
 sir," he said to me with a solemn face, " I've been 
 rearing a lot o' young citizens for you." 
 
 "Have you?" said I, with a sigh. "I fancy I'm 
 rearing a middling lot of them myself." 
 
 " Please, sir," said he to me on another occasion, 
 "that there lumbago be terrible trying to know what 
 to do with it." 
 
 " Oh ! " said I with alacrity, " nothing equals 
 hartshorn and oil applied to the small of the back with 
 a flannel. You have a wife " 
 
 "Yes, sir." He looked at me vacantly. "And 
 yet, it's a beautiful thing." 
 
 « Well — yes, when it attacks one's deadly enemy." 
 
 "I've cut it down, and trimmed it out, and tied it 
 up," said the gardener. He meant the Plumbago 
 capcnse ! 
 
 That man never would allow that he was beaten. 
 My eldest boy one day held some pansies over the 
 fumes of ammonia, turned them green, and showed 
 them as a lusus natures to the gardener. He smiled 
 contemptuously. " Them's the colour of biled 
 cabbage," said he ; "I grew them verdigris green — 
 beds of 'em, when I was with Squire Cross." 
 
 One day he said to me : " The nurserymen call them 
 plants big onias just to sell them, I call them little 
 onias ; you shall just see them I grow, them be the 
 true big onias, as large as the palm of your hand." 
 
 I tumbled, by hazard, at Nice into a pension, where 
 I believe I saw at table d'hote a score of the ugliest 
 women I have ever had the trial of sitting over against 
 in my long career. I found out, in conversation with 
 a porter at the station afterwards, that this pension 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 was notorious for the ugly women who put up there, 
 and it is a joke among the porters when they see one 
 very ill-favoured arrive by the train, that she is going 
 
 to be an inmate of the Hotel — . The name I 
 
 will not give, lest any of my fair readers, in that spirit 
 of delighful perversity that characterises the sex, 
 should go there and spoil the credit of the pension. 
 I could not endure the table dhote there for many 
 days. An ugly woman is, or may be, restful for the 
 eye when her face is in repose — not when she is 
 chewing tough beef or munching an apple. Besides, 
 Lent was passed. 
 
 When I was in Rome there appeared in a comic 
 paper at the beginning of Lent the picture of a very 
 stout lady, who thus addressed her spouse. " Hubby, 
 dear! you haven't kissed me." "Can't, love," he 
 replies, "fat is forbidden in Lent." Ugliness was 
 uncongenial to me in radiantly beautiful Nice, and in 
 sparkling Easter — so I packed my Gladstone bag and 
 went further. 
 
 The snow still lying on the crests of the 
 Maritime Alps and the intermediate ranges broken 
 into fantastic forms, the lovely range of red porphyry 
 Esterel to the south, with the intensely blue sea 
 drawing a thread of silver about its base, together 
 made a picture of incomparable loveliness. 
 
 The sun was so hot that the horses had already 
 assumed their summer hats. " A good man is 
 merciful to his beast," and the good-hearted peasants 
 of the Riviera and Provence, thinking that their 
 horses must suffer from the burning heat of the sun, 
 provide them with straw hats, very much the same 
 
THE RIVIERA. 
 
 H 
 
 sort of hats as girls wear, adorned also with ribbons 
 and rosettes, but to suit the peculiarity of formation of 
 the horse's head, two holes are cut in the hat through 
 which the ears are drawn. The effect is comical 
 when you are being driven in a carriage with a pair of 
 horses before you wearing straw hats, and their ears 
 protruding, one on each side, like the horns in the 
 helmets of mediaeval German knights. One lovely 
 glimpse of the sea I got that I shall never forget. 
 
 The blue sea was 
 in the background 
 gleaming ; against 
 it stood a belt of 
 sombre cypresses ; 
 before the cy- 
 presses the silvery, 
 smoke-grey tufts 
 of olive, in a 
 grove ; and before 
 the olive, in mid- 
 distance, a field of 
 roses in young 
 claret-red foliage — a landscape of belts of colour right 
 marvellous. 
 
 Then Antibes — a blue bay with castle on one horn, 
 on the other the little town, its lighthouse, and a 
 couple of bold towers. 
 
 It was at Cannes that Prince Honore IV. of Monaco 
 encountered Napoleon in 1815, as he was returning 
 from Paris in his carriage to take possession of his 
 principality, that had been restored to him by the 
 Treaty of Paris in 1814. 
 
 Horse in a Hat. 
 
2 4 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 The Grenadiers of the Imperial Guard stopped his 
 carriage, made the prince descend, and conducted him 
 before a little man with clean-cut features, whom he at 
 once knew as the Emperor — returned from Elba. 
 
 " Ou allez-vous, Monaco ? " asked Napoleon 
 bluntly. 
 
 "Sire," replied Honore IV., "je vais a la 
 decouverte de mon royaume." 
 
 The Emperor smiled. 
 
 " Voila une singuliere rencontre, monsieur," said 
 Napoleon. " Deux majestes sans place ; mais ce n'est 
 peut-etre pas la peine de vous deranger. Avant huit 
 jours je serai a Paris, et je me verrai force de vous 
 renverser du trone, mon cousin. Revenez plutot 
 avec moi, je vous nommerai sous-prefet de Monaco, si 
 vous y tenez beaucoup." 
 
 " Merci de vos bontes, sire," replied the prince in 
 some confusion ; "mais je tiendrais encore plus a faire 
 une restauration, ne dut-elle durer que trois jours." 
 
 " Allons ! faites la durer trois mois, mon cousin, je 
 vous garderai votre place de chancellier, et vous 
 viendriez me rejoindre aux Tuileries." 
 
 The two monarchs separated after having shaken 
 hands amicably. The story would be spoiled by 
 translation. 
 
 The Grimaldis anciently possessed much more 
 extensive territories than at present. At Cagnes, 
 near Vence, is their ancient chateau, now converted 
 into a hospital and barrack, and they owned considerable 
 property, manors and lordships near Cannes and 
 Vence. We shall meet them again as Princes of Les 
 Baux. 
 
THE RIVIERA. 
 
 -5 
 
 The present reigning family are not properly 
 Grimaldis. The last representative was a daughter, 
 married to the Count of Thorigny in 171 5, who, on the 
 extinction of the male line in 1 73 1, assumed the name 
 of Grimaldi, and succeeded to the principality. 
 
 Everywhere, for the mere delight of the eye, not 
 from thought of any gain gotten out of it, is the Judas 
 tree covered with pink flowers, standing among the 
 cool grey olives. Here and there is a mulberry burst- 
 ing into fresh, green, vivid leaf ; in 
 every garden the palms are rustling 
 their leaves in the pleasant air, and 
 are glistening in the sun. Out at 
 
 Lerins. 
 
 sea lies the low, dull island of Lerins ; but, though 
 low and dull, full of interest, as taking the place to 
 Provence occupied by Iona to Scotland and Lindis- 
 farne to Northumberland, a cradle of Christianity, 
 a cradle rocked by the waves. I cannot do better 
 than quote Montalembert's words on this topic. 
 11 The sailor, the soldier, or the traveller who pro- 
 ceeds from the roadstead of Toulon to sail towards 
 Italy and the East, passes among two or three 
 islands, rocky and arid, surmounted here and there 
 by a slender cluster of pines. He looks at them 
 
26 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 with indifference, and avoids them. However, one of 
 these islands has been for the soul, for the mind, for 
 the moral progress of humanity, a centre purer and 
 more fertile than any famous isle of the Hellenic 
 Archipelago. It is Lerins, formerly occupied by a 
 city, which was already ruined in the time of Pliny, 
 and where, at the commencement of the fifth century, 
 nothing more was to be seen than a desert coast. In 
 410, a man landed and remained there ; he was called 
 Honoratus. Descended from a consular race, 
 educated and eloquent, but devoted from his youth 
 to great piety, he desired to be made a monk. His 
 father charged his eldest brother, a gay and im- 
 petuous young man, to turn him from his purpose ; 
 but, on the contrary, it was he who won over his 
 brother. Disciples gathered round them. The face 
 of the isle was changed, the desert became a garden. 
 Honoratus, whose fine face is described to us as 
 radiant with a sweet and attractive majesty, opened 
 here an asylum and a school for all such as loved 
 Christ." 
 
 From this school went forth disciples, inspired with 
 the spirit of Honoratus, to rule the churches of Aries, 
 Avignon, Lyons, Vienne, Frejus, Valence, Nice, Metz, 
 and many others. Honoratus himself, taken from 
 his peaceful isle to be elevated to the metropolitan 
 see of Aries, had for his successor, as Abbot of 
 Lerins, and afterwards as Bishop of Aries, his pupil 
 and kinsman S. Hilary, to whom we owe the admirable 
 biography of his master. Hilary was celebrated for 
 his graceful eloquence, his unwearied zeal, his tender 
 sympathy with all forms of suffering, his ascendency 
 
THE RIVIERA. 27 
 
 over a crowd, and by the numerous conversions which 
 he worked. But, indeed Lerins was a hive whence 
 swarmed forth the teachers and apostles of Southern 
 Gaul. Hence came the modest Vincent of Lerins, the 
 first controversialist of his time, who at the head of his 
 greatest work inscribed a touching testimony of his 
 love for that poor little isle where he had spent so 
 many years, and learned so much. Salvian, also, the 
 <v Master of Bishops," as he was called, though himself 
 only a priest, was held to be the most eloquent man of 
 his day, only second to S. Augustine. S. Eucherius 
 of Lyons, S. Lupus of Troyes, who had married the 
 sister of S. Hilary, were other prelates trained in 
 this holy isle. When Troyes was threatened by 
 Attila and his Huns, Lupus boldly went forth to 
 meet him. " Who art thou ? " asked the bishop. 
 " I am Attila, the Scourge of God," was the reply. 
 The intrepid gentleness of the bishop disarmed the 
 ferocious invader. He left Troyes without injuring 
 it, and drew back to the Rhine. And this isle 
 through Lupus claims some regard from a native of 
 Britain, for Lupus, trained in it, was chosen by the 
 Council of Aries in 429 to combat the Pelagian 
 heresy in Great Britain, along with S. Germanus of 
 Auxerre. 
 
 Into the same carriage with me, at Nice, got a pair 
 — a young couple ; he, with an amiable but weak face ; 
 she heavy featured, her only charm her eyes. There 
 had been a breeze between the pair, evidently, before 
 they took their places, and she was sulky. He, poor 
 fool, endeavoured by every means to allay her ruffled 
 temper, always ineffectually. He pulled out his Guide 
 
2 8 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 Joannot, and endeavoured to interest her in the places 
 we passed, their history, their antiquities ; in vain, she 
 sat scowling, with pursed lips. He called her atten- 
 tion to the red porphyry cliffs of Esterel with purple 
 shadows in their hollows, to the blue bays opening 
 between their red horns — all to no purpose, she would 
 not look out at the window. He produced a box of 
 jujubes, and offered her one between his thumb and 
 forefinger. She refused it, but thrust her fingers into 
 the box and extracted one for herself. Then she 
 leaned back in the carriage, drew her hat over her 
 face, and exposed to view only a chin and a mole under 
 it, that moved up and down as she sucked her 
 jujube. 
 
 Next, the feeble, amorous husband, endeavoured to 
 get hold of her hand. She snatched it away 
 vixenishly. Hectic spots formed on his cheeks, and 
 perspiration stood in great drops on his brow. This 
 was clearly the first ruffle he had experienced on the 
 hymeneal sea. He got out of the carriage at Cannes, 
 and hung about the buffet till the extreme moment, 
 hoping to betray her into tokens of uneasiness lest he 
 should miss the train. As it was, at the final moment 
 he swung himself into another carriage. She thrust 
 her hat a little on one side, protruded an eye to see 
 what became of him, then covered it once more. He 
 got in at the next station, breathless, in pretended 
 agitation. He had nearly lost his place — he was all 
 but left behind. Had he been so left, what would 
 she have done ? She vouchsafed no reply. Tired, 
 however, of looking into the crown of her hat, she now 
 removed it and placed it on her lap. The face was 
 
THE RIVIERA. 29 
 
 still sullen, with the jowl hanging down, the coarse 
 lips set in defiance, and an ugly nicker in the eyes. 
 Now the hectic-cheeked husband became boisterous in 
 merry conversation with other travellers near him, but 
 always with an eye reverting at periods to his wife, 
 whose lips retained a contemptuous curl. Then he 
 sulked in his turn, folded his arms, thrust forth his feet 
 under the seat opposite, and looked gloomily into the 
 space between them. Thereat she began to hum an air 
 from " La Traviata," when suddenly the situation was 
 altered. By some marvellous instinct she discovered 
 that I had been observing the little play ; the comedy 
 a deux, and had made my comments thereon — not in 
 her favour. 
 
 Instantly the expression of her countenance 
 chaneed. She turned to her husband. " Gustave ! '■' 
 said she, "Je souffre," and she laid her head on his 
 shoulder. A flash in his face, full of surprise sliding 
 into ecstasy. He could not understand this sudden 
 change in her disposition, and I am quite sure she 
 never gave him the key. 
 
 I left the carriage at Frejus, and at parting caught 
 her eye. She laughed, so did I. We understood 
 each other. Now, as it happened, at Nice, when I 
 was seeking a carriage, I entered one where were 
 a lady and an elderly gentleman. 
 
 At the first glance I recognised a " Milord Anglais," 
 the lady was his daughter. At the same moment 
 that I said to myself, " This carriage will never do 
 for me," the lady addressed me, " Monsieur ! ce 
 voitoore est reservee a noos doox." 
 
 If I had gone to Frejus with them, I should have 
 
3 o IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 missed that little episode of the young married couple 
 and that would have grieved me, and the reconcilia- 
 tion would not have been brought about before 
 Marseilles. Oh, how grateful I was to fate, that the 
 lady had said, " Monsieur ! ce voitoore est reservee a. 
 noos doox." 
 
( 3i ) 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FRfijUS. 
 
 The freedman of Pliny — Forum Julii — The Port of Agay — The 
 
 Port of Frejus — Roman castle — Aqueduct — The lantern ol 
 
 Augustus — The cathedral — Cloisters — Boy and dolphin — Story 
 
 told by Pliny — The Chaitie des Maures — Desaugiers — Dines with 
 
 the porkbutchers of Paris — Sie'yes — Satis 
 
 phrase — Agricola — His discoveries. 
 
 was strange. The first 
 person I thought of, on 
 arriving at Frejus, was 
 not Julius Caesar the 
 founder of this old port 
 — no, nor Agricola, a 
 native of Frejus, who is 
 so associated with British 
 history, especially with 
 Scottish — no ! it was 
 Pliny's sick freedman, about whom that polished 
 orator wrote in his nineteenth letter, in Book V. of 
 his collected epistles. Pliny was a native of Como, 
 he had two villas on the lake. He was a kindly, 
 honourable, somewhat bumptious man — but what 
 great talkers think small matter of themselves ? He 
 had a slave, a Greek, named Zosimus, of whom he 
 writes to his friend Paulinus, who had an estate at 
 
 
32 IN TRO UBA D UR-LAND. 
 
 Frejus : " He is a person of great worth, diligent in his 
 services, and well skilled in literature ; but his chief 
 talent is that of a comedian. He pronounces with 
 great judgment, propriety, and gracefulness ; he has a 
 very good hand too upon the lyre, and performs with 
 more skill than is necessary for one of his profession. 
 To this I must add, he reads history, oratory, and 
 poetry. He is endeared to me by ties of long affec- 
 tion, now heightened by the danger in which he is." 
 
 Pliny had given Zosimus his liberty, but Zosimus 
 remained attached to his service as freedman. Some 
 years before, this accomplished slave had overstrained 
 his voice, and begun to spit blood. Thereupon Pliny 
 sent him to Egypt, where in the dry air he seemed 
 better, and after a while Zosimus returned to his 
 master, apparently completely restored. Pliny goes 
 on, in his letter : " Having exerted himself again 
 beyond his strength, there was a return of his former 
 malady and a spitting of blood. For this reason, I 
 intend to send him to your farm at Forum Julii 
 (Frejus), having often heard you mention the exceed- 
 ing fine air there, and recommend the milk of that 
 place as very salutary in disorders of this nature. I 
 beg you will give directions to your people to receive 
 him into your house, and to supply him with what he 
 shall have occasion for : which will not be much ; for 
 he is so temperate as not only to abstain from 
 delicacies, but even to deny himself the necessaries his 
 ill health requires. I shall supply him with all that is 
 needful for his journey. Farewell." 
 
 Now, on reaching Frejus on a balmy day in April, 
 when the air was soft as butter-milk, and the sun was 
 
FREJUS. 33 
 
 hot, not scorching, my thoughts went at once to poor 
 Zosimus, with his hacking cough, his delicate com- 
 plexion, come here to inhale the soft air and drink 
 the warm milk. And I thought of him the more 
 from certain experiences of my own relative to Como. 
 I went to that city in January from England, thinking 
 that it lay in a warm nook, and that there I might 
 bask for a few weeks, when recovering from an attack 
 of bronchitis, till I was able to go further south. 
 
 I went into an hotel where I had stayed in summer 
 and been comfortable ; but — oh ! — never shall I forget 
 the horrors of that hotel in January ! I was the sole 
 person staying in it. There was no bedroom that had 
 in it a stove. In the salle-cL-manger the fire was 
 lighted for half-an-hour at nine in the morning, then 
 let out and not rekindled through the day. The 
 fountain in the square was frozen. An icy wind 
 descended from the Alps. My bedroom was a tomb ; 
 brick-floored, stone vaulted. My bed measured 
 two feet across, and the sheet and crimson duvet 
 were so nicely adjusted as exactly to fit the bed, 
 when unoccupied. When I lay in the bed, that duvet 
 was balanced like a logan stone on the ridge of my 
 body shivering under it, and it oscillated as I shivered. 
 Then it slid gently to the floor, and left me with a chill 
 and damp linen sheet over me, the thermometer being 
 below zero, and I — afflicted with a cough. 
 
 Next morning I fled — fled to Milan — was stabbed 
 there by the Tramontana, fell ill, escaped to Genoa, 
 and there recovered. 
 
 Now, perhaps, the reader will understand how it 
 was that naturally, and at once, my mind turned to 
 
 D 
 
34 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 poor Zosimus, as I entered Frejus. His dust is laid 
 there — I doubt not. He had wandered there — some 
 eighteen hundred years ago, and, like me, had inhaled 
 the sweet scent of the flowering beans, looked on the 
 Esterel chain glowing as if red-hot in the sunshine, 
 and had entertained, like me, kindly, affectionate 
 thoughts of that somewhat pedantic, conceited, but 
 eminently worthy Caius Plinius Caecilius Secundus. 
 
 Although Julius Caesar is said to have formed the 
 port at Forum Julii, and to have given the place his 
 name, it is probable that there was a settlement 
 there earlier. He, however raised it into con- 
 sideration by the construction of the harbour. The 
 port is there still, within its moles, and guarded by 
 two castles on heights above it, but — alas for the well 
 being of Frejus, the harbour is filled with sand and 
 soil brought down by the river Argens and washed 
 in by the waves, and is now a level meadow, every 
 portion belonging to a farmer cut off from another 
 portion by a ditch, in which spring the rushes and 
 croak the frogs. Augustus enlarged the port, and 
 after the decisive battle of Actium (b.c. 31) sent 
 thither the galleys captured from Anthony. The sea 
 is now two miles distant. 
 
 The mistake of making ports at the mouths of 
 rivers was one constantly made by the Romans. 
 The Greeks knew better — Marseilles has not been 
 choked. 
 
 Hard by, at Agay, is a perfect natural harbour. 
 The red porphyry mountains rise in fantastic shapes 
 above it, and plunge in abrupt crags into the deep 
 blue water. It is a little harbour that calls out 
 
FREJUS. 35 
 
 " Come and rest in me from every wind." Now a 
 lighthouse has been erected at the extremity of one 
 of the natural moles of rock, a coastguard establish- 
 ment crowns the heights, two or three fishermen's 
 cottages nestle in the lap of the bay — that is all. 
 
 On the south of the port of Frejus is an old castle. 
 There must have existed there originally a nodule of 
 rock, but out of this a platform has been formed 
 artificially of earth gathered from the port, and this 
 platform was converted in Roman times into a fort. 
 On one side may be seen a curious contrivance for 
 resisting the outward 
 pressure of the earth 
 heaped up within. 
 The basement wall 
 has not buttresses 
 thrust forth, but con- 
 sists of a series of 
 semicircular concave 
 
 depressions in its face. aqueduct of frejus. 
 
 In Mediaeval times a 
 
 strong castle with circular towers was erected on the 
 
 ancient basement, that also is now in ruins, the ledges 
 
 where the old Roman wall ended and the Mediaeval 
 
 wall sprang at half the thickness of the former were, 
 
 when I saw them, dense with white irises. 
 
 Frejus was supplied in Roman times with an 
 aqueduct, the arches of which, broken and ruinous, 
 still stretch across the plain, and were destined to 
 convey into the town the waters of the Siagnole, from 
 a distance of about fifty miles. The arcade is about 
 forty-five feet high. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 
 
 IN TRO UBAD UR-IAND. 
 
 Following a path that leads along the ancient mole 
 one reaches a quadrangular tower of Roman masonry 
 with a stone conical roof, which goes by the name of 
 the Lantern of Augustus, and is supposed to have 
 served as lighthouse at the entrance of the harbour, 
 but the height is too insignificant for this purpose, 
 it is not over thirty-five feet, and there 
 is no indication of any contrivance 
 whereby it could have been utilised for 
 the purpose of a pharos. In the Tor- 
 Ionia Museum at Rome is a bas-relief 
 
 Ma 
 SttTO 
 
 Lantern of Augustus. 
 
 representing the port of Ostia, with its pharos ; that 
 is a structure of several stages, each receding as it is 
 superposed on the other, and the topmost sustains the 
 ever-burning fire — quite a different sort of building 
 from this tower at Frejus. 
 
 Frejus is a cathedral city, though numbering only 
 3,500 inhabitants, but it is an ancient see, dating from 
 about 374, when it was an important maritime place. 
 Its fortunes had gone down in the Middle Ages, and 
 
FREJUS. 37 
 
 the citizens and prelates were never in a position to 
 build much of a cathedral. The present church is of 
 the eleventh century, both small and plain. It contains 
 little of interest save a fine painting on gold ground 
 of S. Margaret and other saints, brought from the 
 ancient Monastery of Lerins. The organ gallery is 
 supported on granite pillars, Classic, found among 
 the ruins of the amphitheatre. The baptistery 
 is surrounded by eight porphyry columns with 
 Corinthian capitals taken from a pagan temple. 
 
 The carved doors of the cathedral deserve to be 
 seen, they are of rich Renaissance work. In the 
 north aisle of the cathedral to the west is the tomb of 
 two bishops of the seventeenth century, Bartholomew 
 and Peter de Camelin, kneeling ; and at the east end 
 are two alabaster monuments of bishops three 
 centuries earlier. The cloisters are of the usual 
 Provencal type, the arcade resting on double columns, 
 but walls have been erected blocking up the spaces, 
 and the interior yard is turned into the bishop's 
 fowl-house. 
 
 But — is not that sufficient ? I am not writing a 
 guide book ; and I enter into these details here solely 
 because the guide books pass over the cathedral very 
 slightingly, and concern themselves chiefly with the 
 Roman antiquities. Of these latter, besides what I 
 have mentioned, there is the Porte Doree, one arcade 
 only of what was formerly a noble portico facing the 
 harbour ; also a fine amphitheatre, now traversed by 
 a highway, not however as perfect as those of Nimes 
 and Aries. Fragments also remain of the ancient 
 theatre, but they are unimportant. 
 
3 8 IN TRO UBA D UR-LA ND. 
 
 Hard by the Hotel de Ville is a beautiful red 
 porphyry figure of a boy and a dolphin which one 
 would have taken to have been Renaissance work, but 
 that the Renaissance artists would hardly have taken 
 the pains to sculpture such intractable material as 
 porphyry for a petty town of the size of Frejus. The 
 group recalls that very odd story told by Pliny in one 
 of his letters, which, as it may not be familiar to many 
 of my readers, I will venture here to repeat. He says 
 that the story " was related to him at table by a person 
 of unsuspected veracity." At Hippo, in Africa, when 
 the boys were playing in the lake that communicates 
 with the sea, and the lads were contending together 
 which could swim furthest, one boy found a dolphin 
 play about him as he swam, and he ventured to climb 
 on the back of the fish. The dolphin was not alarmed, 
 but conveyed the little fellow on his back to the shore. 
 The fame of this remarkable event spread through the 
 town, and crowds came down to the water's edge to see 
 the boy and ask him questions. Next day he went 
 into the water again, and once more the dolphin 
 appeared, played round him, and again took him on 
 his back. This happened several times, and the 
 circumstance was bruited throughout the neighbour- 
 hood, so that great numbers of people came in from 
 the countryside to see the fish play in the water with 
 the children, and carry them on its back. At last the 
 authorities of the town, annoyed at the concourse of 
 the curious, destroyed the playful dolphin, a bit of 
 barbarity that excites Pliny's wrath. 
 
 To the south-west of Frejus lies the Chaine des 
 Maures, the outline of which is by no means so bold as 
 
FREJUS. 39 
 
 that of the porphyry Esterel, but the mountains rise in 
 sweeping lines from a broad and fertile plain covered 
 and silvered with olives, growing out of rich red soil, 
 like the old red sandstone of Devonshire. The red 
 sandstone rocks through which the line passes are 
 ploughed with rains. On the right appears the 
 wonderfully picturesque little town of La Pauline, with 
 an extensive ruined castle, and the walls and towers of 
 the town in tolerable condition. Above it rises a 
 stately peak capped with the white limestone that 
 forms the mountains about Toulon and Marseilles, and 
 having all the appearance of a flake of snow. 
 
 When we reach the basin between Aubaine and 
 Camp-Major we are surrounded by these barren white 
 ranges, so white that they look as if a miller had shaken 
 his flour-bag over them. 
 
 But I have not quite done with Frejus yet. I fear 
 the reader will think I have given him a dull chapter 
 of antiquarian and historical detail, so I will here add 
 an anecdote, to spice it, concerning a worthy of 
 Frejus, Desaugiers, one of the liveliest of French poets. 
 He was born at Frejus in 1772. One day he was 
 invited to preside at the annual banquet of the pork- 
 butchers. At dessert everyone present was expected 
 to pronounce an epigram or sing a song ; and when the 
 turn came to Desaugiers, he rose, cleared his throat, 
 looked around with a twinkle in his eye, and thundered 
 forth " Des Cochons, des Cochons." 
 
 The pork-butchers bridled up, grew red about the 
 cheeks and temples, believing that an insult was in- 
 tended, when Desaugiers proceeded with his song : — 
 " De'cochons les traits de la satire." 
 
4o IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 Sieyes was another native of Frejus, that renegade 
 priest, to whom is attributed the ferocious saying, when 
 called on to give his vote on the condemnation of Louis 
 XVI., " La mort — sans phrases." Some few years 
 after the Directory sent Sieyes as ambassador to Berlin. 
 He invited a prince of the blood royal of Prussia to 
 dine at the embassy with him ; but the prince took the 
 invitation and scored across it his answer : — 
 
 " Non — sans phrases." 
 
 Napoleon as national recompense to Sieyes for the 
 services he had rendered to France, and to himself 
 personally, gave him the estate of Crosne. This gave 
 rise to the epigram — 
 
 " Bonaparte a Sieyes a fait present de Crosne, 
 Sieyes a Bonaparte a fait present du trone." 
 
 But after all, it is chiefly as the birthplace of 
 Agricola, that true model of a Roman soldier of the 
 best description, that Frejus interests us most. His 
 father, Julius Grsecinus, had fallen a victim to Caligula, 
 because he refused to undertake the prosecution of a 
 man the Emperor was determined to destroy, and 
 there is some reason to suspect that Agricola himself 
 was sacrificed to the suspicions and envy of Domitian. 
 Like most good and honourable men, he had a good 
 mother, whose virtues Tacitus records. 
 
 When Agricola was proconsul of Britain, his rule 
 was mild, and he took pains to win the confidence of 
 the provincials. He it was who drew a chain of forts 
 from sea to sea between the Tyne and Solway, to 
 protect the reclaimed subjects of the southern valleys 
 from the untamed barbarians who roved the Cheviots 
 
FREJUS. 41 
 
 and the Pentlands. He was not merely a conqueror, 
 but an explorer and discoverer, in Scotland. In a.d. 83 
 he passed beyond the Frith and fought a great battle 
 with the Caledonians near Stirling. The Roman 
 entrenchments still remaining in Fife and Angus were 
 thrown up by him. In 84 he fought another battle 
 on the Grampians, and sent his fleet to circumnavigate 
 Britain. The Roman vessels at all events for the 
 first time entered the Pentland Frith ; examined the 
 Orkney islands, and perhaps gained a glimpse of the 
 Shetlands. 
 
 It was interesting to tread the soil where the child- 
 hood was passed of a man who left such permanent 
 marks in Britain, and to whom we are indebted for 
 our first knowledge of Scotland. 
 
42 
 
 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARSEILLES. 
 
 The three islands Phcenice, Phila, Iturium — Marseilles first a 
 Phoenician colony — The tariff of fees exacted by the priests of 
 Baal — The arrival of the Ionians — The legend of Protis and 
 Gyptis— Second colony of Ionians — The voyages of Pytheas 
 and Euthymenes — Capture of Marseilles by Trebonius — Position 
 of the Greek city — The Acropolis — Greek inscriptions — The 
 lady who never "jawed" her husband — -The tomb of the sailor- 
 boy — Hotel des Ne'gociants — Menu — Entry of the President of 
 the Republic — Entry of Francis I. — The church of S. Vincent — 
 The Cathedral — Notre Dame de la Garde 
 — The abbey of S. Victor — Catacombs — 
 The fable of S. Lazarus. 
 
 traveller approaching Marseilles 
 from the sea observes three 
 islets of bare limestone rock 
 that are apparently a prolonga- 
 tion of that rocky promontory 
 now crowned by the fortress of S. Nicolas, and that 
 act as a natural breakwater against wave and storm 
 from the S.E. They go by the names of Pomegue, 
 Ratonneau, and Chateau d'If. But the classic geo- 
 graphers called the group the Little Stcechades, and 
 named these islets Phcenice, Phila, and Iturium ; 
 and these three appellations give us in a compact 
 form the story of ancient Marseilles, founded by the 
 
MARSEILLES. 43 
 
 Phoenicians, refounded by the Greeks, and then made 
 a dependency under the Roman empire. 
 
 That Marseilles was a Phoenician colony before the 
 Phoceans settled there is shown by the monuments that 
 have been exhumed from the foundations of the modern 
 houses, and are now collected in the museum. There 
 are some curious images of Melkarth and Melita, the 
 Hercules and Venus of these Asiatic traders, known 
 also to us through the Bible as Baal and Ashtaroth. 
 But most curious of all is a long Phoenician table of 
 charges made by the priests of Baal for the various 
 sacrifices and oblations offered by the people. This 
 tariff of charges was found in 1845. ^ consists of 
 twenty-one lines, and begins : — 
 
 "The Temple of Baal. — This is the regulation 
 relative to the dues legally established by Italis-Baal, 
 the suffete, son of Bod-tanith, son of Bod-Milcarth, 
 and by Italis-Baal. 
 
 " For an entire ox, the ordinary sacrifice, the priests 
 are to receive ten shekels. At the sacrifice, in addition, 
 three hundred mishekels of flesh. 
 
 " Item. For the ordinary sacrifice, of cereals and 
 flour of wheat, also the hide, the entrails, and the feet 
 of the victim. All the rest of the flesh goes to the 
 master of the sacrifice." 
 
 So it continues to regulate the fees for a calf, a ram, 
 a bird ; also for cakes, and for offerings made by 
 lepers and by common people. The table of fees is 
 extremely curious and is, I believe, unique. 
 
 The Phoenician colony at Marseilles was probably 
 in decline when, in B.C. 599, a Greek fleet left the port 
 of Phocsea, one of the twelve Ionian cities of Asia 
 
44 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 Minor, seeking new homes in the West. The colony 
 was under the command of an adventurer named 
 Protis. Attracted by the Bay of Marseilles, and the 
 basin surrounded by hills that lay in its lap, the 
 Greek colony disembarked. 
 
 And now for a legend. 
 
 The first measure taken by the new arrivals was to 
 send a deputation to the King of the Segobrigse, a 
 Keltic race occupying what is now called Provence. 
 The king was at Aries, which was his capital ; his 
 name was Nannos. By a happy coincidence the 
 embassy arrived on the day upon which Nannos had 
 assembled the warriors of his tribe, for his daughter, 
 Gyptis, to choose a husband among them. 
 
 The arrival of the young Greek, Protis, in the 
 midst of this banquet was a veritable coup-de-thedtre ; 
 he took his place at the board. His natural grace, 
 his easy and polished manners, the nobleness and 
 elegance of his person and features, contrasted 
 strangely with the savagery and coarseness of the 
 Gaulish warriors. 
 
 Free to choose whom she would, Gyptis rose from 
 the table, filled a cup, and made the circuit of the 
 board. Every eye was fixed on her ; he was to be 
 her choice to whom she offered the bowl. She did 
 not hesitate for a moment, she went to the Greek 
 stranger and extended it to him. Protis put the 
 goblet to his lips, and the alliance was concluded. 
 
 The example of Gyptis was followed by some of 
 her maidens. The Gauls agreed to receive the 
 Greeks, and suffer them to colonise the basin of 
 Marseilles 
 
MARSEILLES. 45 
 
 But the chiefs who had been set aside by the fair 
 Gyptis bore a grudge against the new-comers. The 
 growing prosperity and rapid development of the new 
 settlement aroused their jealousy, which was probably 
 augmented by the defection of some of their 
 wives and daughters. Profiting by the Feast of Flora 
 in May, they presented themselves at the gates of 
 Marseilles in attendance on some waggons laden with 
 green boughs, under which were their arms 
 concealed. But love, that had founded the Ionian 
 colony, was destined to save it. A young Gaulish 
 woman revealed the plot to her Hellenic lover, and the 
 Greeks laid their hands on the arms that were to 
 have been employed against them, turned them against 
 the intrusive Gauls, and massacred them to a man. 
 
 But having thus saved themselves from one clanger 
 they felt that they had incurred another. They had 
 provoked the deadly animosity of the whole tribe of 
 the Segobrigae. They therefore appealed to their 
 countrymen in Ionia to come to their aid. The 
 appeal met with a ready response, a second fleet of 
 colonists arrived. Marseilles was encompassed with 
 walls on the land side, and thus made secure against 
 the assaults of undisciplined barbarians. 
 
 Such is the graceful legend of the origin of 
 Marseilles. It is only so far historical that it gives us 
 in poetic and romantic form the main facts, that the 
 first colony settled at Marseilles without opposition, 
 that after a while it got embroiled with the Gaulish 
 tribes of the neighbourhood, and that a second Ionian 
 colony came to strengthen the first. But this second 
 colony arrived B.C. 542, fifty-seven years after the first, 
 
46 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 and was due to the taking of Phocoea by the Medes 
 and Persians. 
 
 As a Greek mercantile colony Marseilles flourished, 
 and sent forth other colonies, that formed settlements 
 along the Ligurian coast, as a Litoral crown from 
 Ampurias and Rhode in Catalonia to the confines of 
 Etruria. Free, rich, protected by the Roman legions, 
 these Greek settlements cultivated the arts and sciences 
 with ardour, as well as carrying on the trade of the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 In the year B.C. 350 two of her most illustrious 
 citizens, Pytheas and Euthymenes, explored the 
 northern and southern Atlantic. Pytheas was 
 charged to make a voyage of discovery towards the 
 north. He coasted Spain, Portugal, Aquitania, 
 Brittany, discovered Great Britain, coasted it, and 
 reached Thule, which some have supposed to be 
 Iceland, but others the Orkney Isles. In a second 
 voyage he penetrated the Baltic by the Cattegat and 
 Sound, and reached the mouths of the Dwina or 
 the Vistula. On his return he composed two works, 
 records of his discoveries, of which precious fragments 
 have been preserved by Pliny and Strabo. Thanks to 
 his labours, Marseilles was the first town whose 
 latitude was determined with some precision. 
 
 About the same time, Euthymenes was com- 
 missioned to make explorations in the opposite 
 direction. He sailed south-west, traced the western 
 coast of Africa, and penetrated the mouths of the 
 Senegal, whence he brought back gold dust. 
 
 Marseilles was taken, l.c. 49, by Trebonius, the 
 lieutenant of Julius Caesar. Two naval battles ruined 
 
MARSEILLES. 
 
 47 
 
 her fleet ; and, but for the clemency of Caesar, the 
 doom of the city would have been sealed. She had 
 enthusiastically taken the part of Pompey, and 
 had resisted Caesar with unusual determination. But 
 he appreciated the importance of the colony and the 
 
 ANCIENT MASSIL1A. 
 
 mercantile energy of her inhabitants, and he did not 
 lay his hand in retribution too severely upon her. 
 
 The old Greek city of Massilia occupied the pro- 
 montory which is still old Marseilles, clustered on the 
 Butte St. Laurent and Butte des Moulins, where was 
 the Acropolis, with the temples of Apollo and Diana, 
 and the Butte des Cannes. The harbour was the 
 
48 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 natural fiord, which is now the Vieux port ; and the 
 modern splendid street Canebiere runs along the site of 
 the old shipbuilding-docks of the Greeks. Here was 
 found a few years ago an ancient galley with keel and 
 ribs of cedar, and coins in her of the date of Julius 
 Caesar. She is now in the museum. To the south of 
 the old port was a marsh ; the rectangular canal and 
 the Bassin du Carenage mark the position of this 
 marsh, now built over — a marsh that reached to the 
 base of the limestone hills that rise to the peak now 
 occupied by Notre Dame de la Garde. 
 
 The old Greek walls of Massilia ran in a sweep 
 along where is now the Boulevard des Dames, Rue 
 d'Aix, and reached the Vieux port at the Bourse. 
 
 Considering the importance of the Greek city, its 
 wealth and splendour, it is surprising to find nowhere 
 in Marseilles any ruins of its ancient founders. But 
 Marseilles has traversed every historic period, in the 
 midst of storm ; and after a voyage of three thousand 
 years through history, she has been plundered of 
 every fragment of her ancient treasures. In Rome the 
 Colosseum and the tomb of Augustus were robbed of 
 their materials for the construction of houses ; and in 
 Marseilles every stone of her ancient temples and 
 acropolis have been appropriated for baser purposes. 
 She has passed through twenty fires, and as many 
 sieges. Taken, sacked, decimated, she has been 
 rebuilt over and over again, always hurriedly, conse- 
 quently always with material taken where nearest at 
 hand, without respect for her monuments and historic 
 recollections. The disturbed soil of Marseilles is not 
 even a heap of ruins, for every stone found in the soil 
 
MARSEILLES. 49 
 
 has been utilised as material for construction. Never- 
 theless some traces of the Greek founders remain in 
 the beautiful coins of the colony, and in inscriptions 
 that have been picked out of the walls or foundations 
 of mediaeval houses. The coins, stamped with classic 
 beauty, are well-known to numismatists. 
 
 We have space to notice only one or two 
 inscriptions. One is the sign of Athenades, son of 
 Dioscorides, professor of Latin grammar, probably set 
 up two thousand years ago over his door ; another is 
 a notice of a young lad, Cleudemos, son of Dionysius, 
 having gained a prize. A curious Greek inscription is 
 found at Carpentras, a colony from Marseilles, that 
 illustrates the manner in which foreign religions got 
 mixed up with those that were proper to the Greeks. 
 
 " Blessed be Thebe, daughter of Thelhui, laden with 
 oblations for the God Osiris — she never jawed her 
 husband — she was blameless in the eyes of Osiris, and 
 receives his benediction." 
 
 Truly such a wife deserved that her conduct 
 towards her husband should be commemorated through- 
 ages upon ages, and we may thank good fortune that 
 it has preserved to us the name of this incomparable 
 lady. 
 
 As I am on the subject of Greek inscriptions, I may 
 quote the following touching one, that has been found 
 built into the wall of a house at Aix. 
 
 " On the banks, beaten by the waves, a youth 
 appeals to thee, voyager! I, beloved by God, am no 
 more subject to the domination of Death. I passed 
 my life sailing on the sea, myself a sailor, like to the 
 youthful gods, the Amyclaeans, saviours of sailors, free 
 
5 o JN TRO UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 from the yoke of matrimony. Here in my tomb, which 
 I owe to the piety of my masters, I rest sheltered from 
 all maladies, free from toil, from cares, from pains ; 
 whereas in life, all these woes fall on our gross 
 envelopes of matter. The dead, on the other hand, 
 are divided into two classes, of which one returns to 
 the earth, whereas the other rises to join the dance 
 with the celestial choirs ; and it is to this latter class 
 that I belong, having had the good fortune to range 
 myself under the banners of the Divinity." 
 
 Clearly this was the tomb of a young sailor-boy, a 
 native of Aix, who had served in a merchant vessel of 
 Marseilles. There is something graceful and pathetic 
 in the monument. 
 
 But enough of the past. Now for the present, and 
 in considering the present let us attend to that which 
 feeds and builds up that gross envelope of matter the 
 young Greek sailor had laid aside. 
 
 At Marseilles I put up at the Hotel des Negociants, 
 in the Cours Belzunce. Let me observe that I do not 
 see the fun of going to hotels of the first class. Not 
 only is one's expense doubled, but one is thrown 
 among English and American travellers, and sees 
 nothing whatever of the people in whose country one 
 is travelling. Now, here in this commercial inn, I 
 had for dinner the following dishes, which I am quite 
 sure I should not have had in the Grand Hotel de 
 Noailles, where a dinner is six francs, whereas at my 
 inn I paid just half. I must also observe that the 
 dinners were abundant and excellent, but among the 
 dishes were some that were peculiar to the Provencal 
 cuisine, for instance : — 
 
MARSEILLES. 
 
 5i 
 
 Bread slices sopped in saffron, with fish, garnished 
 with small crabs, to be chewed up, shell and all. 
 
 Artichokes, raw, with oil and vinegar. 
 
 Oranges with pepper and salt. 
 
 On the table were glass jugs with tar-water, and I 
 observed that over half those present drank their wine 
 diluted with this tar- water. 
 
 One day in summer I was at table-d'hote in France 
 when I saw a very fine melon on the table. Said 
 I, in my heart of hearts, " I'll have some of you 
 by-and-by ! " But, to my consternation, the melon was 
 taken round with stewed confer eel, and eaten with 
 salt and pepper. I could not summon up courage to 
 try the mixture, and the whole melon was consumed 
 before the next course came on. 
 
 I was at Marseilles when M. Carnot, the President 
 of the Republic visited it, April 16th. Great efforts 
 were made to give him a splendid reception. Vene- 
 tian masts were set up, strings of fairy lamps were 
 suspended between them, and tricolours were hung as 
 banners to the masts, or grouped together in trophies. 
 But alas ! No sooner were all preparations made, than 
 a furious gale broke over the coast, the Venetian masts 
 swayed in the wind and were upset or thrown out of 
 the perpendicular, the little lamps jingled against each 
 other and were broken, such as were not shivered 
 were filled with rain, the banners were lashed with 
 the broken wires and torn to shreds, and when 
 M. Carnot arrived, in a pouring rain, it was amidst a 
 very wreckage of festival preparations, and he was 
 received by a crowd of umbrellas. Under such 
 circumstances enthusiasm was damped and ejaculations 
 
 E 2 
 
5 2 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 of welcome were muffled. The President occupied an 
 open landau, and drove along the boulevards without 
 umbrella or waterproof, bowing to right and left in a 
 slashing rain. A deputation of flower women presented 
 him with a sodden bouquet, by the hand of a dripping 
 little girl in white that clung to her as a bathing gown. 
 The President insisted on the maid being lifted to him 
 into the carriage, where he hugged and kissed her, 
 whilst the moisture ran out of her garments like a 
 squeezed sponge, and this demonstration provoked 
 some damp cheers. 
 
 I bought Henri Rochefort's paper next day, to see 
 what his correspondent had to say about the visit. 
 Some passages from it are too racy not to be quoted. 
 
 " II faisait un temps a. ne pas mettre un ministre 
 dehors, lorsque le train presidentiel est arrive en gare, 
 et le defile a. la detrempe etait pitieux a voir dans le 
 gargouillcment ct la transsudation de ce disgorgement 
 cataractal. Sadi Carnot avait donne l'ordre de laisser 
 son landau decouvert, afin de recevoir les ovations 
 enthousiastes des parapluies. 
 
 " Bref, la Presidence est arrivee a. la prefecture 
 trempie comme une soupe a loignon ct fortement 
 dessalcc." 
 
 Verily there is no tongue like the French for saying 
 nasty things in a nasty way. 
 
 I do not know whether it is fair for one to pass an 
 opinion on a man from a sight of his face overrun with 
 rain-water, and with his nose acting like a shoot from 
 a roof; but certainly the impression produced on me 
 by M. Sadi Carnot was that his features were wooden, 
 and that he was but a very ordinary man — intellec- 
 
MARSEILLES. 53 
 
 tually. I pass this opinion with hesitation. When 
 dried possibly the sparks of genius may be discovered 
 and may flare up ; they were all but extinguished in 
 the downpour when I saw him. 
 
 That cheerful king, Rene of Anjou and Provence, 
 paid a visit to Marseilles in 1437, and made his royal 
 entry on Sunday, December 15th. He was delighted 
 with the reception accorded him, and in a gush of 
 kindly feeling promised to make Marseilles his head- 
 quarters. But he forgot his promise, or circumstances 
 were against his keeping it. He never revisited 
 Marseilles. On January 22, 15 16, Francis I. entered 
 the town and was received by children carrying 
 banners and garlands, and troups of young girls in 
 white, then followed archers, arquebusiers, the consuls, 
 and the clergy bearing the relics of S. Lazarus and 
 S. Victor. A theatre was erected at every street 
 corner, on which were presented to his sight incidents 
 from the life of S. Louis. The procession ended with 
 a battle of oranges and lemons, in which the king 
 gave and received a good many blows on the head 
 with the golden fruit. 
 
 At the head of the Allees des Capucins, a fine street 
 planted with trees and with a handsome fountain in 
 the place where the Allees de Meilhan unites with it, 
 is a really fine modern Gothic church with twin west 
 spires of open tracery. They are perhaps too thin, a 
 usual fault with modern work, but otherwise the church 
 is very good and stately. It is as fine within as 
 without, but sorely disfigured by the coloured glass, 
 which is garish. French painted glass is very bad. 
 1 1 is precisely the sort of stuff that was turned out by 
 
54 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 English glass-painters about thirty years ago, the 
 colours crude and distressing to the eye — windows that 
 our more cultured taste cannot now endure. But the 
 French artists have not advanced, the windows put in 
 to-day are as detestable as those they put in at the 
 beginning of the revival. Unfortunately, every 
 cathedral is crowded through the length and breadth 
 of France with this abominable stuff, that is only 
 tolerable in a modern tasteless church, vulgar in its 
 architecture and insipid in its sculpture, but is 
 painfully out of place in a venerable minster. 
 
 The city of Marseilles has been lucky in securing a 
 good architect for the Church of S. Vincent de Paul, 
 but in another architectural venture Marseilles has 
 been unfortunate. She was resolved to have a 
 cathedral, and she gave the designing of it to a man 
 void of taste, who has built a hideous erection on the 
 quay in what he is pleased to call Byzantine style. I 
 am quite sure any Byzantine architect would cheerfully 
 have jumped into the Bosphorus rather than disfigure 
 a city with such a structure as Notre Dame. 
 
 The Germans have a saying that the higher a 
 monkey climbs the more he exposes his monkeyish- 
 ness ; and unfortunately this architect has been allowed 
 to climb very high. He was given the peak "of Notre 
 Dame de la Garde, that towers over Marseilles, on 
 which to erect a church. The site is exceptionally good, 
 one on which a man of ordinary genius would have 
 done something, could hardly have failed to have done 
 something, that would have been picturesque. But 
 such is the perversity of this unfortunate man's talent 
 that he has erected a structure on the limestone crag, of 
 
MARSEILLES. 
 
 "^ 
 
 almost miraculous hideousness. It is also in so-called 
 Byzantine architecture. There is a dish-cover which 
 serves as a dome, and a tower which would be comical 
 if it were not irritating. It resembles the handle of a 
 renaissance knife or fork stuck into a sheath and 
 standing upright with a figure at top. We have made 
 a blunder at South Kensington in setting side by side 
 a depressed dome — the Albert Hall, and the acute 
 pinnacle of the Albert Memorial ; but a road runs 
 between them, and it is possible to shut one eye and 
 see one of these two structures apart from the other. 
 But in Notre Dame de la Garde the two are combined 
 in one building, and tease the eye from every point in 
 Marseilles. 
 
 I ascended the steep crag to the church and found it 
 full of a devout congregation. The service was the 
 "Salut," and the Host was being elevated to the strains 
 of " The Last Rose of Summer," on the hautbois stop 
 of the organ. 
 
 The view from the platform of the church, of 
 Marseilles, the coast, the blue Mediterranean and the 
 islands is beautiful. Below Notre Dame de la Garde, 
 and above the old port, stands the ancient Abbey of 
 S. Victor ; this abbey, of which the church alone 
 remains, occupies a site where the successive genera- 
 tions of Massaliots buried their dead from the earliest 
 pagan times, and here the first Christians formed cata- 
 combs of which some traces remain under the church, 
 subterranean passages bearing some resemblance to 
 those in the outskirts of Rome. The abbey itself was 
 founded by Cassian, in the fourth century, over these 
 galleries containing the bones of the first Christians, 
 
5 6 IN TR O LB AD UR-LAND. 
 
 but his monastery was wrecked by the Saracens four 
 hundred years later, and it was rebuilt in the eleventh 
 and thirteenth centuries. What remains of this famous 
 Abbeyof S. Victor has ratherthe appearance of afortress 
 than a church ; the walls and ramparts date from 1350, 
 and were the work of William de Grimoard, who was 
 prior of the monastery before he was elevated to be 
 pope under the title of Urban V. The heavy, clumsy 
 pile is a type of the architecture, at once military 
 and ecclesiastical, that characterises most of the 
 churches along the coast. 
 
 Externally the venerable church is devoid of beauty. 
 No attempt at decoration has been made. It seems 
 a shapeless pile of towers and machicolated and battle- 
 mented curtains, falling into almost complete ruin. 
 But on passing through the single entrance, one finds 
 oneself in a well-proportioned church of nave and side 
 aisles, a south chapel, and an apse. Each buttress of the 
 apse is battlemented outside and forms a turret, and 
 two strong towers are adapted internally to serve as 
 a transept and a porch. 
 
 Marseilles claims to have had as its first apostle 
 Lazarus, whom Christ raised from the dead. The 
 foundation of this myth is that in the fourth century it 
 perhaps had a prelate of the name of Lazarus, though 
 the earliest known bishop was Orestius, a.d. 314. 
 The fact is that the existence of S. Lazarus at 
 Marseilles was unsuspected till the eleventh century. 
 When Cassian founded his abbey he dedicated it to 
 S. Victor. If he had known anything about Lazarus, 
 almost certainly he would have dedicated the church 
 to him ; he erected moreover, two other chapels, one 
 
MARSEILLES. 57 
 
 to SS. Peter and Paul, the other to the Blessed Virgin 
 and S. John the Baptist. When, in 1010, Benedict IX. 
 enumerates the glories of the abbey restored after the 
 destruction by the Saracens, he does not make 
 the most transient allusion to S. Lazarus. However, 
 Benedict IX., in 1040, does mention the passion of this 
 Lazarus raised from the dead by Christ, as one of the 
 causes why the abbey was venerable. His relics were 
 said to have been transported thence to Athens, 
 to preserve them from the Saracens. We shall 
 learn more about this fable when we come to the 
 Camaronue. 
 
58 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CRAU. 
 
 The Basin of Berre — A neglected harbour — The diluvium — Forma- 
 tion of the Crau — The two Craus — Canal of Craponne — Climate 
 of the Crau — The Bise and Mistral — Force of the wind — 
 Cypresses — A vision of kobolds. 
 
 leaving Marseilles by train for 
 Aries, the line cuts through the 
 limestone ridge of the Estaque, 
 and the traveller passes from the 
 basin of Marseilles into the much 
 more extensive basin of Berre, surrounded 
 by hills on all sides, a wide bowl like a 
 volcanic crater, with the great inland salt lake of the 
 Etang de Berre occupying its depths. This is a 
 great natural harbour, seven times the size of the 
 port of Toulon, and varying in depth from 28 to 
 32 feet ; it is perfectly sheltered from every wind, 
 and entire fleets might anchor there in security, not 
 only out of reach, but out of sight of an enemy, for 
 the chain of 1' Estaque intervenes between it and the 
 sea. It would seem as though Nature herself had 
 designed Berre as a safe harbour for the merchant 
 vessels that visit the south coast of France. It is 
 almost inconceivable how this sheet of water, com- 
 
THE CRAU. 59 
 
 municating with the sea by the channel of Martignes, 
 can have been neglected ; how it is that its still blue 
 waters are not crowded with ships, and its smiling 
 shores not studded with a chain of industrial and 
 populous towns. " The neglect of this little inland 
 sea as a port of refuge," says M. Elisee Reclus, "is 
 an economic scandal. Whilst on dangerous coasts 
 harbours are constructed at vast expense, here we 
 have one that is perfect, and which has been neglected 
 for fifteen centuries." But though the Romans or 
 Greeks had a station here, they did not utilise the 
 lagoon. At S. Chamas are remains of the masters of 
 the ancient world, but no evidence that they had there 
 a naval station. 
 
 The line cuts again through the lip of the basin, 
 and we are in the Crau. 
 
 At a remote period, but, nevertheless, in one 
 geologically modern, the vast floods of the diluvial age 
 that flowed from the Alps brought down incredible 
 quantities of rolled stones, the detritus of the Alps. 
 This filled up a great bay now occupied by the mouths 
 of the Rhone, and spread in a triangle from Avignon 
 as the apex, to Cette in the west, and Fos in the 
 east. This rubble, washed down from the Alps, 
 forms the substratum of the immense plain that 
 inclines at a very slight angle into the Mediterranean, 
 and extends for a considerable distance below the 
 sea. Not only did the Rhone bring down these 
 boulders, but also the Durance, which enters the 
 Rhone above Aries, and formed between the chain 
 of Les Alpines and the Luberon another triangular 
 plain of rolled stones, with the apex at Cavaillon and 
 
6o IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 the base between Tarascon and Avignon. But the 
 Durance did more. There is a break in the chain on 
 the south, between the limestone Alpines and the 
 sandstone Trevaresse ; and the brimming Durance, 
 unable to discharge all her water, choked with rubble, 
 into the Rhone, burst through the open door or natural 
 waste-pipe, by Salon, and carried a portion of her 
 pebbles into the sea directly, without asking her 
 sister the Rhone to help her. Now the two great 
 plains formed by the delta of the Rhone, and that of 
 the Durance into the Rhone, are called the great and 
 little Craus. They were known to the ancients, and 
 puzzled them not a little. Strabo says of the Great 
 Crau : " Between Marseilles and the mouth of the 
 Rhone, at about a hundred stadia from the sea, is a 
 plain, circular in form, and a hundred stadia in 
 diameter, to which a singular event obtained for it the 
 name of the Field of Pebbles. It is, in fact, covered 
 with pebbles, as big as the fist, among which grows 
 some grass in sufficient abundance to pasture herds of 
 oxen." 
 
 Then we are given the legend that accounts for it. 
 Here Hercules fought against the Ligurians, when the 
 son of Jove, having exhausted his arrows, was 
 supplied with artillery by a discharge of stones 
 from the sky, showered on his enemies by Jupiter. 
 
 This desert, a little Sahara in Europe, occupies 
 30,000 acres. "It is composed entirely of shingle," 
 says Arthur Young, " being so uniform a mass of 
 round stones, some to the size of a man's head, but of 
 all sizes less, that the newly thrown up shingle of a sea- 
 shore is hardly less free from soil ; beneath these 
 
THE CRAU. 6 1 
 
 surface-stones is not so much a sand as a cemented 
 rubble, with a small admixture of loam. Vegetation is 
 rare and miserable, some of the absinthium and lavender 
 so low and poor as scarcely to be recognised, and two or 
 three miserable grasses, with Centaurca calycitropes and 
 soktitialis, were the principal plants I could find." 
 A mineralogical examination of the rolled stones 
 presents peculiar interest. In the Little Crau, the 
 mouth of the Durance, are found prodigious numbers 
 of green and crystalline rocks, granite and variolite 
 brought down from the Alps of Briancon, but nine- 
 tenths of the pebbles of the Great Crau are white 
 quartz brought from the great chain of the Alps, 
 together with mica-slate and calcareous stones, and only 
 a few of the variolites of Mont Genevre. One may 
 say that the Great Crau is a complete mineralogical 
 collection of all the rocks that form the chain of 
 the Alps, whence flow the Rhone and its tributaries. 
 
 The aspect of the Crau is infinitely desolate, but it is 
 no longer as barren as it was formerly. It is in fact, 
 undergoing gradual but sure transformation. This is 
 due to a gentleman of Provence, named Adam de 
 Craponne, born in 1525 at Salon, who conceived the 
 idea of brinmnor some of the waters of the Durance 
 through the gap where some of its overspill had flowed 
 in the diluvial epoch, by a canal, into the Great Crau, 
 so that it might deposit its rich alluvium over this 
 desert of stones. He spent his life and his entire 
 fortune in carrying out his scheme, and it is due to 
 this that year by year the barren desert shrinks, and 
 cultivation advances. There are to-day other canals, 
 those of Les Alpines, of Langlade, and d'Istres, besides 
 
62 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 that of Craponne that assist in fertilising the waste. 
 Wherever the water reaches, the soil is covered with 
 trees, with pasture-land, with fields of corn ; and in 
 another century probably the sterility of the Crau will 
 have been completely conquered. 
 
 In its present condition, the Crau may be divided 
 into two parts, that which is watered, and which has 
 been converted into a garden, and that which is not as 
 yet reached by the rich loamy waters of the Durance, 
 and is therefore parched and desolate, overrun by 
 herds of sheep and cattle, driven down in winter from 
 the Alps, when a certain amount of herbage is found 
 on the desert, which in summer is utterly dry and 
 barren. These migrations date back to a remote 
 epoch, for they are mentioned by Pliny. 
 
 Previous to the construction of the canal by 
 Craponne, who began it in 1554, the desert reached to 
 Aries ; the whole of the plain south of the chain of the 
 Alpines was either marsh lagoon, or a waste of stones, 
 where now grow and luxuriate mulberries, olives, 
 almond trees and vines. The canal of Craponne was 
 carried by the originator for thirty-three miles, sending 
 out branches at Salon, Eyguieres, and elsewhere. In 
 winter the meadows are green as those of Devon in 
 spring, and the fields yield heavy crops. Indeed, the 
 Durance acts to this region in the same way as does 
 the Nile to Egypt. " The meadows I viewed," says 
 Young, " are among the most extraordinary spectacles 
 the world can afford in respect to the amazing con- 
 trast between the soil in its natural and in its watered 
 state, covered richly and luxuriantly with clover, 
 chicory, rib-grass, and Avena elatior" 
 
THE CRAU. 63 
 
 The climate of the Crau presents contrasts most 
 extreme. In winter the thermometer falls and 
 remains below zero for many nights in succession, and 
 the glacial bise sweeps over the face 01 the desert, 
 curdling the blood ; the flocks and herds seek shelter 
 from this blast behind the long walls of dry stones, 
 which sometimes the violence of the wind throws down 
 upon them. 
 
 During the summer the phenomenon of the mirage 
 is almost continuous. The bed of air in contact with 
 the surface of stones scorched by the blazing sun 
 becomes rarified and dilated, so that the horizon 
 appears to be fringed on all sides with lakes of rippling 
 water, most deceptive and tantalising to the eye of the 
 traveller. 
 
 The troops of wandering bulls and wild horses, 
 flights of rose-coloured flamingoes, of partridges and 
 wild ducks give this region a pronounced oriental 
 physiognomy, and however painful it may be at such 
 a time to traverse this burning plain, it affords a 
 curious picture of the Sahara in miniature nowhere 
 else to be seen in Europe. 
 
 The great scourge of the Crau is the north-west wind, 
 the disc, the black boreas of the ancients, so violent as 
 to roll over the pebbles, and to blow away the roofs 
 of houses, and tear up trees by the roots. In fact, 
 the Crau may be regarded as the Home of the Winds. 
 
 It is easy to explain the origin of these furious gales, 
 bise and mistral. The low sandy regions at the mouth 
 of the Rhone, denuded of all vegetation, and the great 
 stony plain of the Crau, heated by the direct rays of 
 the sun, rarify the air over the surface of the soil, and 
 
64 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 this rises, to be at once replaced by the cold air from 
 the Alps and Cevennes ; the air off the snow pours 
 down with headlong violence to occupy the vacuum 
 formed by the heated ascending column of air off the 
 plain, sweeping the valley of the Rhone, and reaching 
 its maximum of intensity between Avignon and the 
 sea, where it meets, and is blunted in its force by the 
 equable atmosphere that covers the surface of the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 The violence of the wind is consequently due to the 
 difference of temperature between the hot air of the 
 plain and the cold air of the mountain. 
 
 An old saying was to this effect : — 
 
 " Parlement, Mistral et Durance 
 Sont les trois fleaux de Provence." 
 
 Parlement exists no longer, or rather is expanded 
 into a National Assembly that is a discredit to all 
 France, and not Provence alone ; the Durance has 
 become, thanks to Adam de Craponne, an agent of 
 fertilisation and wealth. But the mistral {magistral, 
 the master-wind) remains, and still scourges the delta 
 of the Rhone. In 1845 it carried away the suspension 
 bridge between Beaucaire and Tarascon ; the passage 
 of the Rhone is often rendered impossible for days, 
 through its violence. It has been found necessary to 
 plant rows of cypress on each side of the line that 
 crosses the Crau, to break the force of the wind upon the 
 trains. Indeed, throughout the district, the fields will, 
 in many places, be found walled up on all sides by 
 plantations of cypresses from thirty to fifty feet high, 
 as screens against this terrible blast, to protect the 
 crops from being literally blown out of the ground. 
 
THE CRAU. 65 
 
 When I was a child of five years my father's 
 carriage with post horses was crossing the Crau. It 
 was in summer. I sat on the box with my father and 
 looked at the postilions. Presently I saw a number of 
 little figures of men with peaked caps running about 
 the horses and making attempts to scramble up them. 
 I said something about what I saw, whereupon my 
 father stopped the carriage and put me inside with my 
 mother. The heat of the sun on my head, he con- 
 cluded, had produced these illusions. For some time I 
 continued to see these dwarfs running among the 
 pebbles of the Crau, jumping over tufts of grass, or 
 careering along the road by the carriage side, making 
 faces at me. But gradually their number decreased,, 
 and I failed finally to see any more. 
 
 One June day in the year 1884, one of my boys,, 
 then aged eight, was picking gooseberries in the fruit 
 garden at home, when, standing between the bushes, 
 he saw a little man of his own height, with a brown 
 peaked cap, a red jacket, and green breeches. He- 
 had black hair and whiskers and beard. He looked 
 angrily at the boy and said something. The child 
 was frightened, ran indoors and told his elder brother 
 and sister. They brought him to me, and his elder 
 brother repeated the story, but purposely varied the- 
 description of the apparition, so as to see whether the 
 lad held to the same account, but the child at once 
 corrected him, and told me his story, which his brother 
 informed me agreed exactly with what in his alarm 
 he had first told. The little boy was looking white 
 and frightened. Again a case of sun on the head. 
 
 Now for another. A lady whom I know very well' 
 
 F 
 
66 IN TROUBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 indeed, and who never deviated from the truth in her 
 life — save when she swore at the altar to honour and 
 obey me — was walking one day, when a girl of 
 thirteen, beside a quickset hedge ; her brother was 
 on the other side. I believe they were looking for 
 birds' nests. All at once she saw a little man dressed 
 entirely in green, with jacket, breeches, and high 
 peaked hat, seated in the hedge, staring at her. She 
 was paralysed with terror for a moment, then re- 
 covering herself, she called to her brother to come 
 round and see the little green man. When he arrived 
 the dwarf had disappeared. 
 
 Now these are funny stories, and are to be explained 
 by the fact that the sun was hot on the head. But it 
 does not strike me that the explanation is wholly 
 satisfactory. Why should the sun on the head 
 superinduce visions of kobolds ? Is it because other 
 people have suffered from a hot sun, and that the hot 
 sun reproduces year after year the same phenomenon, 
 that the fable of little men, pixies, gnomes, brownies, 
 fairies, leprechauns is to be found everywhere ? Or — 
 is it possible that there is such a little creation only 
 visible to man when he is subject to certain influences ? 
 
 Sir Charles Isham, of Lamport, has collected a good 
 deal of evidence of a similar nature. I do not venture 
 to express an opinion one way or another. I can 
 remember still, with vividness, the impression produced 
 on me by what I saw that hot day on the Crau, when 
 but a child of five years ; but I cannot for the life of 
 jne explain it satisfactorily to myself. 
 
( 67 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LES ALVSCAMPS. 
 
 Difficulty of finding one's way about in Aries — The two inns — The 
 mistral— The charm of Aries is in the past — A dead city — Situa- 
 tion of Aries on a nodule of limestone — The Elysian Fields — A 
 burial-place for the submerged neighbourhood — The Alyscamp 
 now in process of destruction — Expropriation of ancient tombs — 
 Avenue of tombs— Old church of S. Honore'— S. Trophimus— 
 S. Virgilius — Augustine, apostle of the English, consecrated by 
 him— The Flying Dutchman— Tomb of ^Elia— Of Julia Tyranna 
 — Her musical instruments — Monument of Calpurnia — Her pro- 
 bable story — Mathematical versus classic studies — Tombs of utri- 
 culares — Christian sarcophagi — Probably older than the date 
 usually attributed to them— A French author on the wreckage 
 of the Elysian Fields. 
 
 do not know a more perplexing place any- 
 where to find one's way in and out of than 
 Aries. During a fortnight spent there I 
 never could hit my inn aright once on 
 coming from the railway station. The 
 place is like a labyrinth ; but one of those 
 labyrinths that our forefathers delighted to 
 construct of pleached alleys of box or lime 
 were always to be traversed when you 
 possessed the key. There is no key, no 
 principle whatever upon which Aries has 
 been built. Every public edifice seems to 
 be dodging round the corner, like Chevy Slyme, 
 hiding from some other public edifice with which it is 
 
 F 2 
 
68 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 on dubious terms, or not quite on social equality, and 
 wishes to avoid the difficulties of an encounter. 
 
 Aries streets are about the worst paved in Europe. 
 They are floored with the cobble-stones rolled down 
 by the diluvium, and torture the feet that walk over 
 them and rick the ankles. There are two melancholy 
 inns in the Place du Forum, and it is hard to choose 
 between them, probably it does not much matter. I 
 was given a bed-chamber in one where neither the 
 door nor the window would shut, and where there 
 were besides two locked doors that did not fit, and as 
 the mistral was blowing, my hours in that room were 
 spent in a swirl of draughts. Moreover, an old party 
 with bronchitis was in the adjoining room, also suffering 
 from the draughts, and in despair of recovering his 
 health in such a situation. I complained, and was 
 given another room where the draughts were the 
 same, but I was without my coughing and hawking 
 neighbour. No wonder that I was charged half a 
 franc per night for my candle. It guttered itself in no 
 time into the tray of the candlestick, as it was blown 
 upon from four distinct directions simultaneously. 
 
 Aries — when not in a mistral — is charming, but the 
 charm is in the past. There one must be a laudator 
 temporis acti, for the present is wholly wretched and 
 bad. The fact is, Aries had a glorious past, from 
 which it has been falling throughout the Middle Ages 
 till it reached a point approaching extinction, and it has 
 not as yet realised that better days are shining before 
 it, and that there is a future to which it may look up. 
 
 So depressed did Aries become some time ago, that 
 its only lively trade was in old coffins. It had a vast 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 69 
 
 cemetery outside its walls, crammed with memorials 
 of the dead of all ages ; and as the curators of the 
 museums of Paris, Marseilles, Avignon, Aix, &c, 
 thirsted after sarcophagi, the mournful Arelois went to 
 their necropolis, dug up as many as were wanted, and 
 forwarded coffins to those who had made requisition 
 for them. 
 
 Aries is planted upon a nodule of limestone rock 
 that rises out of the diluvium of rolled stones. In 
 former times it was almost the sole dry spot to be 
 found for miles round, and as the dead of Pagan and 
 Christian times alike seem to have objected to wet 
 beds, their bodies were transported from all the 
 country round to the plateau east of Aries and there 
 entombed. This plateau was called the Elysian Fields, 
 now Alyscamp, and is so thick with tombs that you 
 walk over them as you follow the road that runs along 
 the plateau. You see the grass at the side dead in 
 one place, there is a tomb there ; you see a bit of white 
 marble cropping up in another, that is a tomb. You 
 see a great stack of stones heaped up by the side of a 
 railway cutting, they are all tombs. You look at the 
 cutting itself, and see that to a certain depth it is 
 honeycombed with tombs, some cut through, some 
 sticking out. In every farmyard the pigs eat out of old 
 sarcophagi. The fountains squirt into them, the bacon 
 is cured in them. The farrier dips his hot iron into a 
 sarcophagus. In the churches the altars are made of 
 them. The foundations of the houses are laid in them. 
 The very air seems to be pervaded with the dust of 
 the dead, and this dust lies heavy on the spirits and 
 energies of the inhabitants. 
 
7 o IN TRO UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 But what an age we live in ! Utilitarian and dis- 
 respectful of the past ! The other day a cargo of 
 mummied cat-deities arrived at Liverpool and was 
 sold for manure. At Aries, the Paris, Lyons and 
 Mediterranean Railway Company has bought up the 
 Elysian Fields to convert them into a factory for their 
 engines. The company are excavating Les Alyscamp 
 for this purpose, throwing about the sarcophagi, Pagan 
 or Christian, or using them for building materials — 
 and sawn in half they make decent quoins for a brick- 
 shed — and strewing the dust of the dead of ages under 
 the wheels of the locomotives. 
 
 One undesecrated, unrifled headland remains above 
 the factories, on which is a venerable but abandoned 
 church. The company would grub that up too, but 
 the proprietor will not sell, as he believes the 
 tradition that an incalculable treasure is hidden some- 
 where among these tombs. 
 
 But the Arelois not only expropriate the tombs of their 
 forefathers, they have given away or sold other things 
 as well. On the Alyscamp is the venerable church of 
 S. Honore, half ruinous, in which, underground in the 
 crypt is the ancient baptistery that had served the 
 first Christians when the church was young. It was 
 furnished with a large porphyry circular vessel for 
 immersing adults. Louis XIV. saw it, coveted it for 
 some water-works, and got the Arelois to give it him. 
 Among the ruins of the theatre was found a Venus of 
 Greek workmanship and of Parian marble. They 
 sent it away also ; it is in Paris. 
 
 The old church of S. Honore is now reached by a 
 long avenue of poplars lined with Pagan Roman 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 7* 
 
 tombs. The nave of the church is in ruins, but the 
 choir is in tolerable condition, and is the most 
 interesting portion. It consists in fact of an early 
 Romanesque basilica with three aisles ending in three 
 apses. The pillars separating nave from aisles, three 
 on each side, are great drums ten feet in diameter. 
 The later, ruinous nave contains the reputed chapel of 
 S. Trophimus, apostle of Aries. When the fourteenth 
 century church was added, this little chapel was left 
 standing within, and though now crumbling, it is com- 
 paratively watertight. It has, however, undergone 
 recasing in Renaissance times, and to understand its 
 structure the chapel must be entered. It is then seen 
 to have been an open porch of four semicircular 
 arches, and may possibly have been erected over the 
 tomb of S. Trophimus. The only ornament about it 
 is a moulding, which may give its date. 
 
 S. Trophimus, reputed apostle of Aix, is now said to 
 have been that Asiatic who was a companion of S. Paul 
 mentioned in Acts xx. 4, xxi. 27-29, and 2 Tim. iv. 
 1 2, 20. But the very early diptychs of the church of 
 Aries mention S. Dionysius as the first prelate, and 
 the cathedral was built in 625 by S. Virgilius, and 
 dedicated to S. Stephen. It did not take the title of 
 S. Trophimus till the twelfth century, when the relics 
 of this saint were brought to it from the little chapel 
 just described. The exact date was 11 52; the 
 tradition of S. Trophimus having been one of the 
 disciples of Christ and companion of S. Paul arose 
 about this time. Not a trace of such a tradition 
 appears in the Provencal poem composed by an eye- 
 witness of the translation of the relics. 
 
7 2 IN TROUBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 There was, no doubt, a bishop of this name at 
 Aries, and probably early, but the first whose name is 
 authenticated is Martianus, who followed the Novatian 
 heresy in 254. Gregory of Tours — and his testimony 
 is confirmed by a MS. of the fifth century — says that 
 S. Trophimus was sent into Gaul in the consulship of 
 Decius and Gratus, i.e., 250, and that he was the first 
 bishop of Aries, and Gregory of Tours is the earliest 
 and most reliable authority that we have on the 
 beginnings of the Christian church in Gaul. 
 
 The church of S. Honore was built by S. Virgilius, 
 Archbishop of Aries a.d. 588-618, and the baptistery 
 dates from his time. According to the legend, whilst 
 he was erecting the basilica, the people toiled ineffec- 
 tually to move the pillars to their destined place. At 
 last they sent word to S. Virgil that the truck was fast, 
 and the pillars could neither be taken on nor carried 
 back. Then Virgil hurried to the spot, and saw a little 
 devil, like a negro boy, sitting under the truck, ob- 
 structing its progress. Virgil drove him away, where- 
 upon the columns were easily moved. He was buried 
 in this church, but I do not fancy his tomb is known. 
 A strange story is told of him, how one night, as he 
 was pacing the walls of Aries, or possibly walking in 
 the Alyscamp, he saw a mysterious ship come sailing 
 over the meres. In the starlight he discerned forms 
 of sailors. The ship drew up near where he stood, 
 and a voice called to him : " Reverend father, we 
 know who thou art. Now we are bound for Jerusalem, 
 and are here to ask thee to come on board with us." 
 " No, thank you," answered Virgilius, " not till you 
 have shown me who you are." Then he made the 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 73 
 
 sign of the cross, and suddenly the ship resolved itself 
 into a drift of fog that rolled away before the wind 
 along the surface of the mere. This is the second 
 version of the world-wide-known myth of the Flying 
 Dutchman. The earliest form comes to us in the 
 legend of S. Adrian, a martyr in Asia Minor. As his 
 widow Basilissa was sailing over the Black Sea with 
 his body, to bury it at Byzantium, a phantom ship 
 passed by, which also vanished when adjured in the 
 sacred name. 
 
 What is, to us English, of interest in connection 
 with S. Virgil of Aries is, that it was he who conse- 
 crated Augustine for his mission to Kent, at the 
 command of Gregory the Great. So here, probably, 
 in this ruinous, silent old church, our apostle of the 
 English knelt and received his commission to go 
 and preach the Gospel to us Angles. This same 
 Virgil also built the cathedral, and dedicated it to 
 S. Stephen. But of his work there not a trace 
 remains. Another bishop of Aries of some note 
 was Regulus, who when preaching one day was 
 so troubled by the noise made by the frogs, that he 
 interrupted his sermon to order them to be silent, and 
 — they obeyed. 
 
 In a side chapel of the old church of S. Honoratus 
 is a sarcophagus that contains the skull and bones and 
 dust of a young girl. The coffin is of lead, and this 
 perhaps accounts for the preservation. Along with it 
 were found the gold ear-rings and other trinkets. On 
 the ear-rings a cross, but the inscription on the tomb 
 hardly leads one to believe the girl was a Christian. 
 She was aged seventeen years, eight months, and 
 
74 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 eighteen days, when she died. Her name was ^Elia. 
 Here is the inscription in the lead, translated : — 
 
 ^Elia, daughter of ^Elia. 
 
 Thou who can'st read these lines, read a sad mishap, and learn our 
 
 plaintive lay. 
 Many call that a sarcophagus which contains bones, 
 But this has become the home of unhallowed bees.* 
 Shame it should be so ! Here lies a damsel of exceeding beauty. 
 There's more than grief in this : a dearly loved wife has been snatched 
 
 away. 
 She lived a virgin so long as Nature willed. 
 When she became a bride, the marriage vows were a joy to her 
 
 parents. 
 She lived seventeen years, eight months, and eighteen days. 
 Happy the father who lived not to see such sorrow. 
 The wound rankles in the bosom of her mother, her precious jewel, 
 And her father, taken away in old age, still holds her clasped to his 
 
 heart. 
 
 Here is the original with conjectural restorations. 
 Would not old Dr. Keates have whipped the Eton 
 boy who wrote such barbarous Latin verses ! But it 
 must be remembered the Aries folk were Grseco-Gallic, 
 and not masters of Latin. Some of the words are run 
 together. It runs thus — 
 
 Naak JElije. 
 Littera . quinosti . lege . casum . et . d(ue querelam.) 
 Multi . sarcophagum . dicunt . quod . con(tinet ossa :) 
 Set . conclusa . decens . apibus . domus . \st(a profanis .•) 
 Onefas . indignum . jacet . hie . prseclara (puel/a.) 
 Hoc . plusquam . dolor . est . rapta . est . s,(uavissii>ia conj'ux.) 
 Pervixit . virgo . vbi . jam . natura . placebat . 
 Vixit . enim . ann . xvii . et . menses viii. diesque xviii . 
 O . felice . patrem . qui . non . vidit . tale . dolorem . 
 Hoeret . et . in fixo . pectore . volnus . dionysyadi matri . 
 Et junctam . secum . geron . pater . tenet . ipse . puellam . 
 
 * The ancients thought that bees were bred of dead bodies. See 
 Virgil, Georgics. iv. 281-5. 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 
 
 75 
 
 This is an exact copy. I am not responsible for the 
 grammatical blunders, they were made clearly by the 
 sculptor of the inscription, who did not understand 
 what he cut. 
 
 Among the tombs extracted from the Alyscamp and 
 now in the Museum of Aries, is another of a girl, and 
 a very accomplished young lady she must have been ; 
 her name was Julia, and she was the daughter of 
 Lucius Tyrannus. She died at the age of twenty ; the 
 inscription on her tomb records that in her morals and 
 in her schooling she was a pattern to all other girls. 
 
 Musical Instruments from the Tomb ok Julia. 
 
 What is particularly interesting about this monument 
 is that it gives illustrations of all the musical instru- 
 ments she was able to play, and it affords us I believe, 
 the earliest known example of the organ.* But what 
 is even more curious is that on it is represented a guitar, 
 very much the same as is now manufactured. 
 
 * Nero on the night when he died was going to try a water-organ, 
 when the news of the revolt of Galba and the defection of the troops 
 reached him. 1 am puzzled about this organ on the tomb of Julia 
 Tyranna. Sir George Grove, in his ' Dictionary of Music,' gives an 
 illustration of this same organ copied from Dom. Bedos' ' L'Art du 
 Facteur d'Orgues,' Paris, 1766. This represents two slaves crouched 
 and blowing into the organ bellows. I could not see these figures. 
 I made my sketch carefully, and can hardly suppose the figures have 
 been chipped away since the monument was placed in the museum. 
 
7« 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 o^, 
 
 The instruments she could play were the organ, the 
 guitar, the syrinx or panpipe, and the lyre, which 
 she struck not with her fingers, but a plectrum repre- 
 sented beside it. Observe, between the lyre and the 
 banjo her little satchel of music-books, and below the 
 syrinx a lamb and palm. This is the only sign on 
 the monument that could in the least lead to a supposi- 
 tion that Julia Tyranna was. Christian. The inscription 
 bears no trace of Christianity. 
 
 Another interesting monument found there is that 
 to Calpurnia, daughter of Caius Marius. Probably 
 she died from the exposure and 
 roughness of life camping out, when 
 the barbarian hordes rolled west, and 
 all the inhabitants of the towns were 
 obliged to fly before them to the 
 hills. I shall in a future chapter tell 
 the story of Caius Marius and his 
 great victory at Pourrieres over the 
 Teutons, having first thrashed the 
 Ambrons near Aix. Suffice it now to note that 
 here is the tombstone of his poor little daughter. 
 I must, however, state that the genuineness of this 
 inscription has been called in question. It is also 
 worthy of notice how that the victory of Marius and 
 delivery from the barbarians impressed the people 
 of the neighbourhood. In the museum the name of 
 Marius occurs on other monuments. The name of 
 Marius is even now a popular Christian name in 
 Provence. 
 
 But to return to Calpurnia. The place where the 
 Aries inhabitants fled from the Teutons was the lime- 
 
 Calpurnia's Moxu 
 
 MENT. 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 77 
 
 stone range of Les Alpines, almost an island, so 
 surrounded was it by lagoons and marshes. 
 
 Looking at Calpurnia's monument I fell into a 
 dream, and saw her whole story unfolded before me. 
 Caius Marius was a rough-mannered man, of peasant 
 origin, but he had a wife Julia, of patrician rank, and 
 who, I have not a shadow of doubt, flourished her 
 noble origin before him, and talked very big of her 
 grand relations. When little missie was born : "I'll 
 have none of your plebeian names, if you please, for 
 my baby," said Julia ; " you will please note that my 
 family derives from the immortal gods. I shall call 
 the child Calpurnia."* Madame Julia was a good wife, 
 and she followed her rough husband everywhere. 
 At the beginning of windy March, tidings came that 
 the Teutons and Ambrons were on the move. In 
 April all the women and children of Aries, Glanum, 
 Ernaginum, and Cabelio were clustered on the heights of 
 Les Alpines, in extemporised cabins or in some of the 
 prehistoric habitations they found scooped out of the 
 limestone. Down came the rains. A gale and driving 
 out-pour then as to-day, when M. Carnot comes into 
 Provence. The roofs of the cabins let in water, the 
 sides of the caves ran down with moisture. Then 
 the wind changed, the sun shone out hot, but the 
 mistral tore over the country cold and sharp as a 
 double-edged sword. Poor Calpurnia could not stand 
 it. She shivered and coughed, lost appetite and spirits. 
 Next came the tidings of the battle at Les Milles, and 
 
 * See Appendix A. on this monument and the question of its 
 genuineness ; as well as for some other inscriptions in the Aries 
 Museum. 
 
7 8 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 a couple of days later of the extermination of the 
 enemy at Pourrieres. Now the refugees might in 
 safety descend from their rocky refuges, and return 
 to their homes. 
 
 Then Julia went with the sick girl to Aries. Mean- 
 time Marius on the battlefield had received the ovation 
 of his officers and soldiers, and the salutations of the 
 delegates from the senate proclaiming him consul. 
 But at the same time there appeared — I doubt not, 
 though Plutarch does not say so — a slave with a note 
 from Julia : — 
 
 "I am sorry to tell you that Calpurnia is very 
 unwell. That horrible mistral froze her, and she has 
 done little else than cough night and day since. I 
 have given her snail broth, but it has not relieved her 
 much, and she is now spitting blood. Bother these 
 Teutons, it is all their work. I always told you that 
 you made a mistake in letting them come into 
 Provence, and cross the Rhone. However, you were 
 ever pigheaded, and now it serves you right. You 
 will lose Calpurnia, who is the apple of your eye. 
 Now if you had listened to me, etc., etc. 
 
 " Salve." 
 
 But there was something further to complicate 
 matters, and superinduce sickness in a delicate girl. 
 To escape to the hills the good people of Aries could 
 not follow a road, for the whole district between them 
 and the range of Les Alpines was covered with one vast 
 lagoon. They could not travel in boats, for the lagoon 
 was shallow, so they went on rafts supported on inflated 
 skins, about which I shall have something to say pre- 
 sently. So Calpurnia, creeping close to her mother, 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 79 
 
 wrapped in her pallium, was exposed for hours on a 
 raft at the beginning of April to the cold winds, and to 
 the water oozing up between the joints of the raft. 
 
 The whole story works out like an equation. I 
 fancy — but am not sure — a quadratic equation, some- 
 how thus : — 
 
 As I, in a 19th cent, hotel, and in Jager underclothing : 
 
 Calpurnia, on a raft and in a pre-historic cave : : a cold in the head 
 
 I got : x 
 x x self in hotel and Jager costume = Calpurnia on a raft and in a 
 
 cave X cold in the head. 
 x — pthysis. 
 
 I think this is right. I cannot be sure ; and I can- 
 not be sure, though I was educated to be a mathema- 
 tician by a senior wrangler. 
 
 The facts were these. My dear father thought, and 
 thought perhaps justly, that a classical education was 
 but a throwing back of the current of the mind into 
 the past, whereas a mathematical education directed it 
 to the future, and was the sole course which would 
 prove Pactolean. So I was cut down in my classical 
 studies, and drawn out in those which were mathema- 
 tical. Likewise I was sent the year before entering 
 the university to a senior wrangler to ripen me. I 
 then learned that what as a boy I was wont to call 
 the Rule of Three was more properly termed 
 equations, and that equations might be complicated to 
 the highest limits of muddledom, and when so com- 
 plicated were termed quadratics. After a course of 
 equations that flattened out my head like the 
 Camargue, I was thrust into what are called 
 surds, a sort of wood of errors, in which one spends 
 
So IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 hours in hewing one's way to get at nothing of the 
 slightest profit to man or beast ; finally, I believe 
 my good tutor, now a bishop, got tired of me. I 
 was stupefied by surds ; and I entered the university. 
 Now, after thirty-seven years, I find that every ode of 
 Horace, every chapter of Csesar, every line of Virgil I 
 learned at school lies as a sprig of lavender in the folds 
 of my memory — but I cannot even set and work out a 
 common equation, or add up a sum in compound 
 addition correctly. 
 
 I beg the pardon of the reader for this digression. 
 I have made it because I think, should my reader be a 
 father, this experience of mine may be of profit to 
 him. 
 
 To return to the monuments of the Elysian Fields. 
 A considerable number have been found here, also at 
 Nimes, S. Gabriel, and Cavaillon, which are the 
 memorials of tdriculares* There were guilds of these 
 men. They appointed noble Romans as their patrons, 
 and these patrons on their tombstones made mention 
 of the fact. But what were these utriculares f They 
 were raftsmen who carried on trade over the lagoons, 
 sustaining their flat vessels upon distended skins. The 
 lagoons were so shallow that no vessel of deep draught 
 could travel over them, and all the merchandise of central 
 Gaul for the Mediterranean — the tin from Britain for 
 instance — and all the goods of the Mediterranean for 
 Gaul, had to be transhipped at Aries from the river 
 boats, unable to cross the bar, on to these barges 
 sustained on inflated skins that conveyed them to Fos, 
 at the mouth of the lagoons, where they were again 
 * See Appendix C. 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 
 
 shipped for the sea voyage. After Marius had cut 
 a canal, matters were better. Ships could come up 
 through the lagoons to Aries, but none at any time of 
 deep draught, and the raftsmen, the utriculares^ carried 
 on their trade till the Middle Ages, when the mouths 
 of the lagoons became choked, and the lagoons them- 
 selves turned into noxious morasses. Here is one of 
 their monuments, in the museum of Aries : — 
 
 " To the manes. To Marcus Junius Messianus, of the guild of 
 the utriculares of Aries, four times president of this corporation 
 Junia Valeria raised this monument to him, her son, who died aged 
 twenty-eight years, five months, and ten days." 
 
 Here is another, found near Lyons : — 
 
 " To the manes and eternal repose of Caius Victorinus .... urix, 
 also called Quiguro, citizen of Lyons, one of the corporation of 
 utriculares there, who lived twenty-eight years, . . . months and 
 five days, without giving offence to anyone. His mother, Castorina, 
 raised this to the memory of her sole and very dear boy." 
 
 The navigation on distended skins is now every- 
 where extinct except on the Euphrates. On some of 
 the Nineveh sculptures may be seen men swimming 
 across rivers sustained on these primitive air-vessels. 
 
 In the museum at Aries are numerous sculptured 
 Christian sarcophagi, with groups of the Raising of 
 Lazarus, the Multiplication of Loaves, the Striking of 
 the Rock by Moses, the Opening of the Eyes of the 
 Blind, &c. These are attributed to the fourth and 
 fifth centuries. For myself I am by no means satisfied 
 that the Christian sarcophagi of rich and beautiful 
 sculpture are as late as the dates generally given to 
 them. I judge by the fashion of the hair worn by the 
 ladies. Now there is a sarcophagus at Aries with the 
 
82 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 twelve apostles on it, six on each side of Christ, and 
 a portrait of the deceased. This is set down to be a 
 tomb of the fifth century, and yet the lady wears her 
 hair in precisely the fashion, and it was a peculiar 
 one, of the Faustinas, the wives of Antoninus Pius 
 and Marcus Aurelius, a.d. 138-177. It must not be 
 forgotten that the protection of the laws was extended 
 to Christian sepulchres as well as Pagan till the edict of 
 Valerian in a.d. 257, and although this was withdrawn by 
 Gallienus in a.d. 260, yet after that edict, the cemeteries, 
 the catacombs, were never quite secure ; before that, 
 the Christians made no concealment of their places of 
 burial, they used the richest available decorations for 
 them, in sculpture and in painting. Only after a.d. 257 
 do the ornamentations cease, or become hastily sketched 
 and rude, and the inscriptions degenerate into scrawls. 
 All the finest, costliest work in the Roman catacombs 
 belongs to the first two centuries and the beginning of 
 the third. When peace returned to the Church, art 
 had fallen into decay, and there were not sculptors 
 capable of performing such work as had been done 
 before. No more convincing proof of this can be 
 found than the two porphyry tombs of Constantia and 
 Helena, daughter and mother of Constantine, now in 
 the Vatican. 
 
 To what a depth of degeneracy sculpture fell may 
 be judged by the lid of the sarcophagus of S. Hilary, 
 Bishop of Aries, d. 449, now in the Aries museum. 
 Beside the rude lettering, there are but a leaf and two 
 birds on it, but they might have been scribbled by a 
 child. It is to me inconceivable that some of the 
 beautiful white marble sarcophagi both at Aries and at 
 
LES ALYSCAMPS. 83 
 
 Rome, sculptured with Scriptural scenes, can belong to 
 the period when art was as degraded as it certainly 
 was in the time of Constantine, and I think that 
 antiquarians have been misled in dating them. 
 
 Before taking leave of the Elysian Fields, I must 
 quote the words of a French author upon them : — " It 
 has been a rich quarry only too easily worked, and we 
 will not here enter on the painful story of its spolia- 
 tion. All the museums of the south of France possess 
 tombs stolen from the Alyscamp. As to the mono- 
 lithic tombs, they were abandoned to any one who 
 cared to have them, and for many centuries have been 
 regarded as stones quarried ready for use. The city 
 of Aries has on several occasions had the culpable con- 
 descension of giving up the tombs of its ancestors to 
 the princes and great men of the world. Charles IX. 
 laded several ships with them, which sank in the 
 Rhone at Pont S. Esprit. The Duke of Savoy, the 
 Prince of Lorraine, the Cardinal Richelieu, and a 
 hundred others have taken away just what they liked, 
 and Aries to-day has hardly more to show of this 
 vast cemetery than an avenue — but a noble one — of 
 sarcophagi and some fragments of fine Gothic or 
 Romanesque chapels lost in the midst of a desert." * 
 
 * Lentheric, ' La Grece et l'Orient en Provence,' 1878. 
 
 G 2 
 
8 4 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PAGAN ARLES. 
 
 The Aries race a mixture of Greek and Gaulish— The colonisation 
 by the Romans— The type of beauty in Aries— The amphitheatre— 
 A bull-baiting— Provencal bull-baits different from Spanish bull- 
 fights—The theatre— The ancient Greek stage— The destruction 
 of the Aries theatre — Excavation of the or- 
 (^\ chestra— Discovery of the Venus of Aries— A 
 
 sick girl — Palace of Constantine. 
 
 RFFORF describing Aries I be- 
 
 ) LJjjjmy gan with the Elysian 
 
 Fields, the great 
 cemetery of Pagan and Christian 
 Aries, for this seems to have 
 affected the whole town, and with 
 the dust of ages to have smothered 
 the life out of it. 
 Now let us look at the remains of ancient Aries. 
 But first of all let me observe that the Aries race prides 
 itself on its singular purity of descent. There was, 
 unquestionably, a Gaulish settlement there. The 
 Keltic name Ar-lath, the "moist habitation," tells us 
 as much. So does the legend of Protis and Gyptis, 
 already related. But it was speedily occupied by a 
 large Greek contingent, and the race was formed of 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 85 
 
 Greek and Gaulish blood united. In the year B.C. 46 
 a Roman colony was planted at Aries. Caesar, 
 desirous of paying off his debt of gratitude to the 
 officers and soldiers who had served him in his wars, 
 commissioned Claudius Tiberius Nero, one of his 
 quaestors, father and grandfather of the emperors 
 Tiberius, Claudius, and Caligula, to conduct two 
 colonies into Southern Gaul, one was settled at 
 Narbonne and the other at Aries, and this was one 
 of the first military colonies planted beyond Italy. 
 
 The office of this Tiberius was to portion out the 
 land among the veteran soldiers, six thousand men of 
 the Sixth Legion occupied the town and country round 
 — such of it, at all events, as was not under water — and 
 thenceforth the city took the name of Arelate Sextan- 
 orum. Tacitus gives us a picture of the proceedings 
 on such occasions. After the tribunes and the centu- 
 rions came a cloud of officials called agrimensorcs, 
 surveyors, charged with the duty of parcelling out the 
 soil among the new comers. Then followed a hierarchy 
 of civil officers, religious, judicial, administrative, all 
 under the direction of an administrator-general, who 
 was entitled curator colonics. From that moment the 
 transformation of the colonial town into a little Rome 
 was a matter of time only. The new comers con- 
 structed a capitol, a forum, temples, triumphal arches, 
 aqueducts, markets ; besides these, theatres, a circus, 
 baths. In a very few years the aspect of Aries was 
 completely changed. A mercantile city of Groeco-Gauls 
 had become Latinised, bureaucratic, and flattered itself 
 that it was like its new parent on the Tiber. It called 
 itself Gallula Roma, A re las. 
 
86 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 Consequently, we find in Aries a strong current of 
 Roman blood mingled with the Greek and Gallic, and 
 there has been practically no other admixture. Cut off 
 from the country round by its marshes and lagoons, it 
 has maintained its purity of blood and its characteristic 
 stamp of face. The Aries women are said to be, 
 believe themselves to be, and show to everyone that 
 they believe themselves 
 to be, the handsomest 
 women in France. 
 Their type is quite 
 distinct from that of the 
 inhabitants of Nimes, 
 Marseilles, Aix, and 
 even of the peasantry 
 outside the gates of 
 Aries. What is the 
 more singular is that 
 this peculiarity of type 
 is not noticeable among 
 the men. Among the 
 women it is quite unmis- 
 takable. Their straight 
 brows and noses are 
 sometimes Greek, but 
 the Roman arch appears as frequently as the straight 
 nose ; they have magnificent dark eyes ; black hair 
 which is curled up over their broad straight brows, 
 brought forward about their faces so as to form a dark 
 misty halo round the olive-complexioned features, then 
 tied into a horn at the top of the head, which is bound 
 round with black satin ribbon, that flows down at 
 
 An Arelaise. 
 
 [From a Photograph.) 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 87 
 
 the back. The face is haughty, noble, somewhat 
 imperious. Queens these Arelaises feel themselves to 
 be, down to the fishwives in the market-place ; they 
 walk as queens, as well as the cobble stones will permit, 
 and bear themselves, their black mantillas cast over 
 their arms, in a queen-like manner. 
 
 I had a fine opportunity of studying them, for I went 
 to the first bull-fight of the season in the old Roman 
 arena, and all Aries was there, male and female, 
 down to the babies in arms. Between each course all 
 the spectators promenaded under the galleries and on 
 the terrace at the top of the amphitheatre, the women 
 in gala dress of white lace bodices, black mantle, and 
 dark silk skirts ; and a very fine sight they were ; it was 
 worth the forty centimes I paid for admission to see 
 these majestic women pace along and sweep the little 
 men from their path as they careered round and round 
 the amphitheatre, with cold, stern faces, full of pride 
 of ancestry and conscious beauty. 
 
 I will quote the opinion on the Aries type of a very 
 competent judge perfectly acquainted with the whole 
 of Provence : — " It can be affirmed without contradic- 
 tion that Greek beauty exists at Aries, and exists only 
 among the women. The men are clumsy, small and 
 vulgar, rude in form and rough in vocal intonation. 
 The women, on the contrary, have preserved the 
 ancestral delicacy. The face is that of a cameo, the 
 nose is straight, the chin very Greek, the ear delicately 
 modelled ; the eyes, admirably shaped, have in them a 
 sort of Attic grace, transmitted from their mothers, and 
 to be handed on to the children. 
 
 " To get an idea of this characteristic type, one must 
 
88 
 
 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 not study two or three subjects, but must observe 
 the whole population en bloc, and especially com- 
 pare it with the neighbouring populations. The 
 result of such a comparison brings out with force 
 
 the grand lines con- 
 stituting in the 
 
 -<v 
 
 £ ^ 
 
 
 ijlfjrf 
 
 jSffRfe: 
 
 
 Arelaise the character 
 j of a perfectly definite 
 1 and distinct race."* 
 As I have already 
 mentioned the 
 amphitheatre, I 
 will begin my 
 account of the 
 antiquities of 
 
 Aries with that. 
 In the Middle Ages 
 it was turned into a 
 fortified bourg in the 
 heart of fortified 
 Aries ; it contained 
 streets about as broad 
 as a man could walk 
 up and touch walls 
 on both sides with arms akimbo, a crowd of houses, 
 and two chapels or churches. Four great towers were 
 erected at the cardinal points, and the vast galleries 
 and arcades were a very warren of human habitations. 
 Constructed of huge blocks of limestone, laid without 
 cement, the amphitheatre forms an ellipse, whose axis 
 measures four hundred and twenty feet by three 
 * Lentheric, op. cit. 
 
 Part of the Amphitheatre 
 of Arles. 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 89 
 
 hundred and ten feet. It is said to be able to 
 contain twenty-six thousand spectators, which is just 
 two thousand five hundred more persons than the 
 entire population of modern Aries. 
 
 Externally it presents two stages of sixty arcades, 
 between the arches are engaged Doric pillars in the 
 lower storey, those above are Corinthian, but only about 
 six of the capitals of these latter remain. There are, 
 within, three stages of seats, those for the senators, those 
 for the knights, and the upper range for the common 
 people, now much mutilated, and turned into a pro- 
 menade. Fortunately the accumulation of earth over 
 which the houses were built within the arena was so 
 great, that when that was cleared away, the marble 
 casing of the podium was disclosed in very tolerable 
 perfection. 
 
 When I visited the amphitheatre, Les Arenes they 
 are called, it was to see a Course aux Taureaux. The 
 Provencals are passionately fond of these bull-baits, 
 which take place weekly through the summer, begin- 
 ning at Easter, but it is only at Aries and Nimes that 
 they are carried out in the ancient Roman amphi- 
 theatres. 
 
 These courses are quite distinct from the Spanish 
 bull-fights. There is no brutality, no torturing of the 
 beast with arrows and crackers, no goring of horses. 
 The bull is uninjured, and, though he gets furious, 
 clearly relishes the fight, and in some cases cannot be 
 induced to abandon it. The old proconsular seat was 
 draped, and occupied by the prefet and madame, and 
 the sous-prefet. The spectators went where they 
 liked, men paid fourpence, women threepence for 
 
go IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 admission. The arena was enclosed within a screen 
 of strong timber boards. 
 
 Five wild bulls from the Camargue were advertised 
 to be baited. One, a strong black fellow, Nero, was 
 clearly a favourite — his name was announced in very 
 large letters. Every bull is given a rosette of coloured 
 ribbons, fastened between his horns, and the sport 
 consists in plucking away this rosette, and bearing it in 
 safety beyond the barricades. Should a rosette fall to 
 the ground, it does not count. A prize is given to 
 whoever recovers a rosette. The blood-red rosette 
 of Nero entitled the snatcher of it to one hundred 
 francs. Another characteristic feature of the Provencal 
 courses is that there are no professional toreadors. 
 Any man or boy who likes enters the lists against 
 the bull. Usually there are from a dozen to a score 
 and a half in the arena, all endeavouring to pluck 
 the bunch of ribbons from the brow of the enraged 
 bull. 
 
 From practice, and acquaintance with the habits of 
 bulls, the young men become very skilful, and fatal 
 accidents are rare. The amateur runs up alongside of 
 the bull, swings himself round in front of it, and 
 makes his snatch. The bull at once goes at him, and 
 he takes to his heels. When he is flying a second 
 invariably runs across his path at right angles, and the 
 bull can never resist the temptation of turning upon this 
 second. If he also is hard pressed, a third crosses 
 between him and the bull, and again diverts the angry 
 beast. In one case a man's foot slipped as he was flying, 
 and he fell. Then the bull was on him before another 
 could intervene, but the brute rolled over the prostrate 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 
 
 9i 
 
 man, who got up, shook himself, and cleared the 
 barricade. 
 
 One very nimble young fellow in a grey shirt had 
 attracted general attention by his dexterity. He was 
 resolved to have Nero's rosette. He managed to 
 wrenc h 
 it from 
 between 
 the bull's 
 horns, 
 but not 
 completely 
 disengage 
 The bull drove 
 after him so 
 close that it was 
 impossible for 
 another man to 
 run between, 
 the grey shirt 
 reached the 
 barrier and 
 swung over, but 
 the horns caught 
 his nether gar- 
 ment and rent 
 
 it, fortunately without really injuring the man, who, 
 however, was not able to enter the arena again that 
 day. 
 
 When a course has been run the doors are opened, 
 and one or two young bulls are sent into the arena ; 
 they run round, and the bull who has been baited 
 
 Back of a House at Arles. 
 
9 2 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 adjoins them, and they all run out together. Nero, 
 however, would not go. He was fagged, but his 
 blood was up. Five bulls were sent in to lure him 
 away, but he was resolved to gore his man before 
 he left. His rosette he had dangling on his brow, 
 uncaptured. 
 
 Then the keepers entered with a species of halbert, 
 with half-moon shaped steels at the head, and one 
 small spike in the midst. With this they caught the 
 horns of Nero, and he was forced to retreat before the 
 men, for if he resisted the spike entered his head 
 and hurt him. Thus finally, by sheer force, he was 
 driven, snorting, pawing the ground, and with arched 
 tail from off the place of contest. 
 
 The sport is good. It is not cruel. It draws out 
 the courage, provokes dexterity and nimbleness, and 
 takes the place in Provence that cricket does in 
 England and golf in Scotland. 
 
 The Romans loved the brutal and demoralising 
 games of the amphitheatre. Wherever they went 
 they erected these huge places for entertaining them- 
 selves with the spectacle of suffering. There never 
 was an amphitheatre at Marseilles, for Marseilles 
 was Greek and not Roman, and to the Greek such 
 spectacles were abhorrent. 
 
 At Aries there are the equally interesting remains 
 of a theatre. The stage is fairly perfect, with its 
 customary scenery of Corinthian pillars grouped so as 
 to form two doors for entrance and exit between them. 
 The pillars of this permanent scene are not all in 
 place. Two are standing, and the bases of others 
 remain. At the proscenium may be noticed the 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 
 
 93 
 
 grooves into which the beams fitted for the wooden 
 small stage that stood forward in front of the curtain. 
 
 The ancient Greek theatre was composed, like that 
 of our days, of a hemicycle for the spectators, and a 
 rectangular portion that formed the place for dramatic 
 performance. The pit was a semicircle, and was not 
 fitted with seats, but constituted the orchestra. This 
 orchestra among the Greeks formed an inferior stage, 
 and, as its name implies, was reserved for the ballet. 
 It was not till Roman times that specially privileged 
 spectators were admitted into it, but it never had the 
 musicians installed in it. These latter were placed in 
 front of the stage, much where is our modern 
 proscenium. The actors performed, as nowadays, on 
 the boarded anterior portion, which was called the 
 pulpitum. Finally, to facilitate communication between 
 the stage and the orchestra, a pair of flights of steps 
 descended laterally from the proscenium. In the 
 centre of the pit or orchestra was usually placed an 
 altar to Bacchus, around which the choirs executed 
 their evolutions ; and against this little altar sat the 
 prompter, hidden by it, whilst some flute-players stood 
 beside the altar, in flowing robes, acting as ballet 
 masters, and giving the measure with the shrill notes 
 of their pipes. 
 
 The Greek tragedy, therefore, had a double action, 
 one on the stage proper and the other below, and all 
 was graceful and refined. The purest taste, the most 
 elevated sentiments, were the characteristics of the 
 Greek drama, and the most beautiful and stirring 
 effects were produced by means of the utmost simplicity. 
 Thus, when the Tragedy of the Persse of /Eschylus 
 
9 4 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 was being performed, the depth of the stage opened, 
 to show in the distance the blue sea on which a recent 
 victory had taken place, with the rocky isle of Salamis 
 bathed in the tints of the Eastern setting sun. A 
 thrill of the most lively emotion ran instantly through 
 the whole crowd of spectators. But with the Romans 
 the theatre lost its dignity, and was degraded to low 
 buffoonery, indecencies the most repulsive, and to 
 gaudy spectacles. So bad was the moral result 
 produced by the theatre, that the first Christian 
 bishops who were able to do so, stirred their adherents 
 to the destruction of this breeding-place of moral 
 pestilence. The MS. chronicles of the church of 
 Aries have preserved the name of the man who 
 destroyed the theatre. He was a deacon, Cyril ; 
 acting under a strong moral impulse, filled with 
 righteous indignation at the obscenities perpetrated on 
 the boards, he roused the Christian populace of Aries 
 to attack and wreck the theatre and expel the actors. 
 The mob burst in — tore the marble from the 
 proscenium, smashed the statues of admirable Greek 
 sculpture, overthrew the altar and ground it to 
 powder, upset the columns, and reduced it to a state 
 of ruin very little better than that in which it is at 
 present. Heads of statues were knocked off, bas-reliefs 
 broken in half, cornices, capitals, were thrown into the 
 pit and choked it to the level of the stage. 
 
 In 1 65 1 the pick was set to work to clear out this 
 orchestra, and almost the first stroke revealed one of 
 the most admirable works of Greek sculpture that has 
 descended to us, the Venus of Aries, an imitation or 
 reproduction of the celebrated Venus of Praxiteles, 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 95 
 
 now, unhappily,, lost. This statue lay before the 
 columns of the proscenium and had been saved from 
 destruction by the ruins that had buried it. Head 
 and body are almost intact, only the arms were 
 gone. 
 
 The goddess is half naked, like the Venus of Milo. 
 The bust is slightly turned. Head and coiffure are of 
 the noblest and purest execution. 
 
 It was evening when I visited the theatre, a balmy 
 spring evening, where shelter could be obtained from a 
 cold wind. The pink Judas trees were in full flower. 
 The syringas scented the air. The golden sunlight filled 
 the theatre with light and warmth. But two persons 
 were present, except myself. Seated on one of the 
 white marble steps for the audience, was an Aries 
 mother with a royal face, in the quaintly beautiful 
 costume the women of all classes still affect, and she 
 had spread her mantle over the shoulders of a girl 
 of fourteen, sick, with face of the purest alabaster, 
 and of features as fine as were ever traced for 
 Venus Anadyomene, with large, solemn, dreamy eyes, 
 watching a robin that was perched on the proscenium 
 and was twittering. 
 
 The pity, love, and sorrow of that mother's heart 
 were not to be read, in her calm disciplined coun- 
 tenance, but I could see the emotions flow in short 
 wavelets from her heart, through the arm that 
 encircled the sick girl, into the hand that rhythmically 
 contracted and expanded on the sharp little shoulder, 
 rocking the child in the warm sun, against her own 
 heart, and with her dark eyes looking into the 
 future, in which she would have no more the child 
 
9 6 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 at her side to sway. In that theatre! — the ebbing 
 tide of a white and limpid life taking its last sunning, 
 
 where the crowds had 
 
 laughed and roared 
 their applause at sights 
 and songs of unspeak- 
 able foulness. 
 
 In the museum may 
 be seen some of the 
 treasures from the 
 theatre, a head of 
 Augustus, a so-called 
 
 ivia, a bust of the 
 
 A Boat with two Rudders at Arles. 
 
 young Marcellus, bas-reliefs, dancing women, a few 
 inscriptions, and the seal of a Roman dentist, which 
 I suppose he lost there one day when watching a play, 
 and which has recently been found there. 
 
PAGAN ARLES. 
 
 97 
 
 It is worth the visitor's while to walk by the broad 
 muddy Rhone, and observe the clumsy picturesque 
 vessels moored there, or gliding down the turgid stream. 
 So clumsy is the construction that some are provided 
 with two rudders, one being found insufficient to direct 
 the course of these tubs. 
 
 At Aries, near the river, is a palace of Constantine 
 the Great, now turned into cottages and sheds, and 
 in a very ruinous condition, but sufficient of it is 
 preserved to show what a falling off in architecture 
 had ensued through the anarchy of rising and sinking 
 emperors, and the destruction of the great families 
 of the Patriciate. Employment for architects and 
 sculptors was gone in times of proscription and 
 military revolts, and apparently all at once the arts 
 that had reached the utmost perfection fell into a 
 condition of the most abject degradation. 
 
9 8 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 Sunday in France — Improved observance — The cathedral of Aries — 
 West front — Interior — Tool-marks — A sermon on peace — The 
 cloisters — Old Sacristan and his garden — Number of desecrated 
 churches in Aries — Notre Dame de la Majeur — S. Cassaire — The 
 isles near Aries — Cordes — Montmajeur — A gipsy camp — The 
 ruins — Tower — The chapel of S. Croix. 
 
 spent the first Sunday after 
 Easter at Aries. It was a bright 
 and joyous spring day. I went 
 to the cathedral at nine o'clock 
 and found a good congre- 
 gation there, listening to a 
 sermon on the obligation of 
 observing the Sunday. It 
 was dull, and I left. But 
 I may here observe what a great change has taken 
 place in France of late years relative to this observ- 
 ance. I can remember when I was a boy how that 
 every shop was open, and business went on much as 
 on other days. But the Church has made great efforts 
 to obtain a due recognition of the Lord's Day, and all 
 who consider themselves to be good Catholics now 
 shut their shops, and others, who find that there is now 
 very little trade going on upon Sunday, shut their 
 
CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 99 
 
 was being done to 
 
 shops also because it is of no use having them open. 
 It is only the polemical infidels who continue to 
 keep their factories in full work and their places of 
 merchandise open to invite purchasers. 
 
 Some few years ago I was talking with a French- 
 man in Rome, a commercial man, about the phylloxera 
 that was devastating the vines, and ruining the 
 peasantry, and I asked him what 
 correct the evil. " Bah ! " said 
 he. " Everything has been tried. 
 Mon ami. We don't observe the 
 Sunday. Voila le vrai phyllox- 
 era." 
 
 Now this observation of his 
 was only worth so much, that it 
 showed how that the clergy had 
 been going hammer and tongs at 
 the consciences of their sheep, 
 till they had impressed a con- 
 viction on them that if they 
 neglected the commandment of 
 God relative to the observance 
 of one day in seven, He would 
 chastise them till they realised 
 that they had erred, acknowledged their error, and 
 endeavoured to rectify it. 
 
 The cathedral of Aries is a very interesting church 
 indeed. Externally the west front is rich in the 
 bold rude style of the twelfth century, and consists 
 of a deeply-recessed semicircular arch resting on a 
 horizontal sculptured frieze which forms the lintel of 
 the door, and is continued on each side upon pillars 
 
 II 2 
 
 House at Arles. 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 that rest on the backs of lions and have apostles and 
 saints standing between them. The interior of the 
 church is very solemn and striking. It has been 
 cleaned, but judiciously, without sand-papering away 
 the tool-marks on the ancient stone. Has the reader 
 never been puzzled to note the difference between old 
 
 work and new, even when 
 the new is a reproduction 
 of the old ? In the new 
 there is an absence of 
 something, but what we 
 cannot tell. This some- 
 thing is very probably 
 nothing more than the old 
 tool-marks. The ancient 
 workers left on the stone 
 the tale of every stroke they dealt, 
 and to ages on ages these marks 
 tell us : here was a strong arm 
 employed, here was dealt a vi- 
 gorous blow ; here Symon the hewer 
 was tickled with a comical story 
 that mason Peter told and he 
 laughed, and the blow he dealt 
 ran jagged with his laughter. 
 These strokes were done in the morning, when the 
 workers were fresh ; those at even, when their arms 
 were weary. But nowadays the stone is all gone over 
 with a metal toothcomb, and scraped till not a tool- 
 mark remains, and wood is glass-papered till every 
 particle of sharpness and character is taken out of the 
 work. 
 
 
 Samson and the Lion, 
 
 from the West Door 
 
 of the Cathedral 
 
 of Arles. 
 
CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 The aisles of the cathedral of Aries are but five feet 
 wide, the arches are round, the windows Romanesque ; 
 the church is barrel-vaulted, nothing could be plainer, 
 and yet somehow that old church is full of poetry and 
 charm. I w r ent to High Mass at eleven. It was all 
 very homely, quiet and reverent. Another congrega- 
 tion was gathered ; a Gregorian simple service sung, 
 
 gregation knew 
 
 which the con- 
 
 and joined in 
 
 into the pulpit got 
 
 out his text, from 
 
 John xx., end of 
 
 My heart stood 
 
 shall hear. 
 
 years ago, I was 
 
 Whit Sunday, and 
 
 village church. 
 
 these same words 
 
 preached a very 
 
 Peace, though 
 
 appropriate to the 
 
 said, was an ex- 
 
 whether (i) in a 
 
 household ; (3) in 
 
 There we had the three heads 
 
 On a House at 
 Arles. 
 
 heartily. Then up 
 a canon, and gave 
 the Gospel, S. 
 verse nineteen, 
 still. Why — you 
 Just twenty-two 
 in Switzerland on 
 went to the little 
 The curi gave out 
 as his text, and 
 ffSj-good sermon on 
 perhaps not very 
 day. Peace, he 
 cellent thing, 
 country ; (2) in a 
 the conscience, 
 on these he dilated. 
 
 First we had a picture of the miseries of war in a 
 country, and the converse picture of prosperity in 
 peace. Then, secondly, we had a description of 
 domestic discomfort, where husband and wife were 
 at loggerheads, and — naturally, a charming family 
 piece where both were in unity. Then came, 
 thirdly, the special topic of his discourse, peace in 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 the conscience, and how it was to be obtained and 
 secured. 
 
 I bottled up that sermon in my memory and have 
 preached it since, myself, once or twice. 
 
 One day, some fifteen years ago, I was at Eichstadt 
 in Bavaria, on a Saturday. The church of S. Michael 
 there is reserved for the episcopal seminary ; I wanted 
 to see the interior and found it locked, but discovering 
 a side door into the cloisters open, I, and my wife who 
 was with me, entered. The church was empty, save 
 that a sacristan with a feather brush was dusting the 
 side altars, but to my surprise I heard a sermon being 
 preached, and caught a glimpse of a priest in the pulpit 
 haranguing and gesticulating to an empty church. 
 
 The sacristan, who saw us enter, went into con- 
 vulsions of laughter. I did not understand the 
 situation, and walked slowly down the aisle looking at 
 the pictures, and listening to the discourse. I was 
 very much surprised to hear the subject of Peace being 
 chopped into three portions : peace in the country, 
 peace in the family, peace in the conscience. It 
 was my old friend the sermon on Peace again. 
 Presently, my wife and I, having finished with the 
 pictures in the north aisle, crossed the nave of the 
 church to look at those in the south aisle, when, 
 suddenly the preacher was aware of a strange 
 gentleman and lady acting as his audience. His voice 
 faltered, he broke down, searched for his MS., could 
 not find his place, fell into complete confusion, turned 
 tail, and bolted down the stairs and out of the church. 
 He was a recently ordained seminarist rehearsing his 
 first sermon. 
 
CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 103 
 
 Two years later I was in Brussels. A new dean 
 had been appointed to S. Gudule, and was to preach 
 his first sermon. I went there with a friend. He 
 gave out his text. I pricked up my ears. Then he 
 addressed himself to his subject, Peace ; and showed 
 how it naturally 
 divided itself into 
 three heads, peace 
 in a country, peace 
 in a household, 
 peace in the con- 
 science. It was 
 my old friend 
 again. 
 
 Now when I 
 heard this text 
 given out by a 
 canon at Aries, I 
 thought with a 
 shock : Bless me 
 we shall have 
 those three heads 
 once more ! But 
 I was mistaken. 
 The old man 
 gave us a simple, 
 crystal-pure dis- 
 course of ten minutes on the peace that passeth man's 
 understanding. 
 
 Now I do not mean to hint that the Swiss, the 
 German, and the Belgian preachers all used literally 
 the same discourse ; but I suppose that in the 
 
 South Entrance to the Cloister, Arles 
 Cathedral. 
 
104 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 seminaries there are supplied certain skeleton dis- 
 courses for the whole year, and these skeletons are 
 dressed up sometimes in homely fustian, sometimes in 
 rhetorical tinsel : yet they never remain other than 
 dressed-up skeletons. 
 
 There is very little of colour in the cathedral of 
 Aries — only nine great pieces of Flemish tapestry, 
 green and soft pale yellow, that are suspended in the 
 aisles. All the rest is of unadorned limestone blocks, 
 unadorned save for the chipping marks of the old 
 masons seven hundred years ago. 
 
 On the south side of the church is a delightfully rich 
 cloister, the arcade resting on double columns whose 
 capitals are richly sculptured with sacred subjects, 
 incidents from the Old and New Testament. In the 
 cloister is a well, fed, I believe, originally by the old 
 Roman aqueduct that supplied the town with pure 
 water from the 'hills, but which was suffered in the 
 Middle Ages to fall into complete ruin. This 
 aqueduct was older than the amphitheatre, for it ran 
 in a cut channel through the rock beneath it. One 
 evening that I was in the cloister the aged sacristan 
 was engaged drawing from this well and watering a 
 little garden of flowers he had made in the sunny 
 sheltered nook within the cloister, against the south 
 wall. 
 
 It was a pretty little subject; the old man in his 
 long black coat, with silvery hair, stooping over his 
 anemones and tulips, tying up the white narcissus that 
 a swirl of the mistral had broken ; with the quaint 
 sculptured capitals of the pillars above, and the deep 
 shadows between the pillars before him ; in the junctions 
 

 Part of the North Cloister of Arles Cathedral 
 
CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 i°5 
 
 of the old blocks above the arcade were wild gillyflowers 
 
 blooming, and under the tiles were swallows busy over 
 
 their mud nests. And as the old man tied up the 
 
 bruised narcissus, in a cracked voice he sang to himself 
 
 one of the vesper psalms, and I caught the verse : 
 
 " Haec requies mea in sseculum 
 
 sseculi : hie habitabo quoniam 
 
 elegi earn." ("This shall be 
 
 my rest for ever, here will I 
 
 dwell, for I have a delight 
 
 therein.") 
 
 Aries was at one time a city 
 of churches, but the hurricane 
 of the Revolution swept over 
 
 Church of Notre Dame de la Majeur, Arles. 
 
 her, and now she has left but four. On the walls, 
 is a very early Romanesque church, tottering to 
 ruins, because the Society for the Promotion of 
 Athletic Sports, to whom it has been surrendered 
 up for tumbling, climbing, wrestling, are impecunious 
 and cannot keep it watertight. Hard by is another 
 church, still earlier, a temple adapted to Christian 
 
of> 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-IAND. 
 
 7 . ^MT$pTOF*d*t».^- *- m ».^\» 
 
 worship, now half swept away, half devoted to a cabaret. 
 The church of the Cordeliers is turned into a school, 
 and the octagonal tower rises out of the roof of the 
 dormitory. The beautiful fourteenth-century church 
 of the- Dominicans is a stable for the horses of the 
 
 omnibuses that ply be- 
 tween the train and the 
 town. S. Martin is 
 desecrated, so is S. Isi- 
 dore. The earliest 
 church in Aries is Notre 
 Dame de la Majeur, 
 near the Arenes, but it 
 does not look its age. 
 It was in that church 
 that the Council as- 
 sembled in 475 on the 
 doctrine of Grace, when 
 the Gallican prelates 
 were by no means dis- 
 posed to admit S. Au- 
 gustine's predestinarian 
 teaching. Outside the 
 church in the open space 
 are traces of walls that 
 are level with the earth ; 
 and if I am not mis- 
 taken, they are the foundations of an early basilica, with 
 apse to the west. The church was rebuilt in the Middle 
 Ages, and made to orientate, and was thrown further 
 east than the earlier church. That is my impression, 
 but nothing can be determined without pick and spade. 
 
 Tower of the desecrated Church 
 of S. Croix, Arles. 
 
CHRISTIAN ARIES. 
 
 107 
 
 In the church of S. Antonine is a metal font, made 
 to resemble the laver of Solomon, resting on the backs 
 of oxen. 
 
 Part of the Courtyard of the Convent of S. C.-esarius, Arles. 
 
 The old Grand Priory has a charming Renaissance 
 front to the river, and some late rich flamboyant work 
 in a street at the back. It is now turned into a gallery 
 
oS 
 
 IN TR UBA D UR-LAND. 
 
 of indifferent pictures. The Church of S. Caesaire is 
 modernised, and has, alas! nothing of interest re- 
 maining in it, only its historic memories to hallow it. 
 
 S. Csesarius, son of a count of Chalons, born in 470, 
 had been educated at Lerins, but thence he was drawn 
 in 501, to succeed the first fathers of that holy isle, 
 Honoratus and Hilary, upon the archiepiscopal throne 
 of Aries. He was engaged in erecting a great 
 monastery for women outside 
 Ostrogoths 
 and the 
 Franks met 
 in a furious 
 co nfl i c t 
 
 the walls, when the 
 
 Church of the Penitents Gris, Arles. 
 
 beneath them. His monastery was reduced to a 
 ruin. A priest, a relative of Caesarius, had the mean- 
 ness to let himself down the walls at night, escape to 
 Theodoric the Ostrogoth king, and denounce him as 
 engaged in secret communication with Clovis, king of 
 the Franks. As soon as Aries was taken, Caesarius 
 was led under custody to Theodoric, but was speedily 
 set at liberty by that great-minded prince. Another and 
 similar charge Was made against him later, and Caesarius 
 
CHRISTIAN ARLES. 109 
 
 was forced to travel to Ravenna to exculpate himself. 
 On his return to Aries he set to work to rebuild his 
 monastery, not this time without the walls. He made 
 his own sister, Csesaria, the abbess, and she governed 
 it for thirty years, and gathered about her a community 
 of two hundred nuns. This brave Christian woman 
 caused to be prepared, and ranged symmetrically 
 round the church, stone coffins for herself and for each 
 of the sisters. They sang day and night the praises 
 of God in the presence of the new tombs that awaited 
 them. When each sister was dead, she was placed in 
 one of these stone coffins and carried off to the Elysian 
 Fields, and most likely some of them are among those 
 there strewn about or being now broken up. It was 
 into this church that Caesarius himself, feeling his end 
 approach, had himself conveyed, that with feeble 
 uplifted hands he might bestow his final blessing on 
 that band of faithful women who were labouring to 
 bring a higher ideal of womanhood before the Aries 
 folk, corrupted by the vices of the decayed civilisation 
 of Rome. 
 
 As already said, Aries was formerly surrounded by 
 water, river on one side, meres on the other. Out of 
 the lagoons, however, rose islets of limestone rock ; of 
 these there are two, Cordes and Montmajeur, but there 
 were also formerly a number of smaller tofts standing 
 above the water, but not always rocky, forming an 
 archipelago, and were covered with the cottages of 
 fishermen and utriculares, and farmers who cultivated 
 vines and olives on the slopes above the reach of the 
 water. Such were Castelet, Mont d'Argent, Pierre- 
 Feu, and Trebonsitte. Nowadays we can go by road 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 to all these spots, formerly they could be reached only 
 by boat or raft. The isle of Cordes is about five miles 
 from Aries, it was evidently at one period fortified, and 
 is believed to have formed for some time the camp of 
 the Saracen invaders who scourged and swept Provence 
 with sword and flame. In the rocks of Cordes is a 
 very curious cave, called the Trou des Fees, formed 
 exactly in the shape of a sword, with lateral galleries 
 to answer to the cross-piece at the hilt. It was un- 
 doubtedly a prehistoric habitation, probably enlarged 
 by the Saracens and used by them as a storehouse for 
 their spoils. It is entered through an oval antechamber 
 which resembles the hilt of the sword ; and which 
 most likely was the original prehistoric dwelling. But 
 the largest of the islands was Montmajeur, that now rises 
 abruptly from the plain, crowned with ruins. I walked 
 to it in driving rain and mistral. As I approached, 
 I saw a gipsy woman bringing water in a pail to the 
 camp, but the wind literally scooped the water out of 
 the pail as with a spoon, and when she reached her 
 destination very little remained. I stopped and had a 
 little chat with the gipsies. They had tried to set up 
 their tent, but it had been blown down over their heads, 
 and had been rolled along with them in it, as they said, 
 like a bag of potatoes. They were now squatted in 
 the lee of a wall, an old ruined wall, and were en- 
 deavouring to boil a kettle, but the flames were carried 
 by the wind in horizontal flashes, and would not touch 
 the bottom of the vessel. They wanted me to have a 
 cup of coffee with them when I returned from seeing 
 the ruins, and I promised to do so, but, on my return, 
 I found that rain and wind had blown and soused 
 
CHRISTIAN ARIES. 
 
 out their little fire, and they had not been able 
 to get the water to boil, so were drinking it luke- 
 warm. Good-natured, merry folk, they laughed over 
 their troubles as though it were a sovereign joke, and 
 yet they were drenched to the skin. 
 
 Montmajeur was a 
 great Benedictine 
 abbey, with a glorious 
 church founded in the 
 sixth century, that was 
 rebuilt in the 
 eleventh and 
 thirteenth cen- 
 turies, over a 
 large and inter- 
 esting crypt, 
 and with clois- 
 ters at the side 
 like those of 
 Aries, but by no 
 means as rich. 
 Beneath the ab- 
 be y are the 
 chapel and the 
 reputed cell of 
 S. Trophimus, 
 who probably never lived there — a charming specimen 
 of early Romanesque. Part of this chapel is scooped 
 and sculptured out of the living rock. But what is one 
 of the grandest portions of the abbey is the machicolated 
 tower that commands the plain for miles to the sea, 
 a noble specimen of a donjon, and in excellent preser- 
 
 In the Cloisters, Montmajeur. 
 
IN TR UBAD O UR-IA ND. 
 
 vation. The abbey buildings adjoining the church 
 were erected about fifty years before the Revolution, 
 when the monastery was in the plenitude of its wealth. 
 They form the wreckage of a palace for princes rather 
 than of an abbey for the sons of S. Benedict, who I 
 am quite sure would have been one of the first, had 
 it been possible for him to be there, to lay his hand to 
 destroy it, along with the mob of Aries' republicans, 
 as utterly out of accord with the spirit of his rule. 
 Indeed, on looking up at these sumptuous halls and 
 stately galleries, one cannot but feel that the time 
 was past in which the monastic orders, wealthy and 
 luxurious and idle, could be endured. The church is 
 no longer in use, and is ruinous. 
 
 Below the rock is a spit of land that stood anciently 
 dry above the meres, and on that is a very singular old 
 church dedicated to the Holy Cross, round which has 
 been discovered a minor Alyscamp, a place of sepul- 
 ture utilised from the earliest times. Sainte Croix is 
 now regarded as a national monument, and is preserved 
 carefully. It consists of a central square tower, from 
 which project four equal semicircular apses, that to the 
 west having a porch attached. It was consecrated in 
 1019. It is lighted by three little windows, only one 
 to the east and two to the S. and S.E. Internally it 
 is entirely deficient in sculpture, and was probably 
 decorated with paintings. This was a funeral chapel 
 in the midst of the cemetery, and was never used as a 
 church. " The monks brought their dead hither," says 
 Viollet le Due, " processionally ; the body was placed 
 in the porch ; the brethren remained outside. When 
 Mass was said, the body was blessed, and it was con- 
 
CHRISTIAN ARLES. 
 
 "3" 
 
 veyed through the chapel and out at the little S. door, 
 to lay it in the grave. The only windows which lighted 
 this chapel looked into the walled cemetery. At night, 
 a lamp burned in the centre of this monument, and, in 
 conformity with the use of the first centuries of the 
 Middle Ages, these three little windows let the gleam 
 of the lamp fall upon the graves. During the office for 
 the dead a brother tolled the bell hung in the turret, 
 by means of a hole reserved for the purpose in the 
 centre of the dome." A similar but earlier mortuary 
 chapel is at Planes, in Roussillon. 
 
 In the Cloister at Arles. 
 
1 14 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LES BAUX. 
 
 The chain of the Alpines — The promontory of Les Baux — The 
 railway from Aries to Salon — First sight of Les Baux — The 
 churches of S. Victor, S. Claude, and S. Andrew — The lords of 
 Les Baux claimed descent from one of the Magi — The fair maid 
 with golden locks — The chapel of the White Penitents — The 
 deHno — History of the House of Les Baux — The barony passes 
 to the Grimaldi. — The ladies of Les Baux and the troubadours — 
 Fouquet — William de Cabestaing — The morality of the loves of 
 the troubadours — The Porcelets — Story of a siege— Les Baux 
 a place of refuge for the citizens of Aries — Glanum Livice — 
 Its Roman remains — In the train — Jager garments. 
 
 M 
 
 ri\ FTI east to west runs tn e chain of 
 UmI Les Alpines, for just twenty- 
 miles, separating the Durance 
 v-^ from the plain of the Great 
 
 Crau. It is of limestone, and rises to the height of 
 about eight hundred or a thousand feet, but is remark- 
 able from the abruptness with which it springs out of 
 the plain, and the fantastic shapes assumed by its 
 crest. 
 
 This chain dies into the plain to the west at 
 .S. Gabriel, and its extreme limits to the east are the 
 crags of Orgon, which rise sheer above the Durance, 
 .and the Mont du Defends farther to the south To 
 
LES BAUX. II5 
 
 the north is the broad flat valley of the Durance 
 stretching away to Tarascon, to the south the vast 
 desert of the Crau reaching to the sea. 
 
 About twelve miles from S. Gabriel, the chain of 
 the Alpines thrusts forth an arm to the south that 
 rises sheer from the plain some five hundred feet, 
 and forms a plateau at the top encrusted with white 
 crags, two thousand seven hundred feet long, by six 
 hundred feet wide. It is detached from the main 
 chain by a dip, and on every other side stands up in 
 precipices. This is Les Baux, the name in Provencal 
 signifies cliffs. 
 
 There is a little railway from Aries to Salon, by 
 which one travels at a snail's pace to the station of 
 Paradou, whence a walk of five miles takes one into 
 a crater-like valley surrounded by bald white lime- 
 stone crags, and there, towering overhead, are the 
 walls and towers of Les Baux, in a position ap- 
 parently inaccessible. This valley struck me as very 
 much like one of the Lunar craters, as I had seen it 
 through the Northumberland telescope, just as white, 
 ghastly and barren. In the bottom were, indeed, a 
 few patches of green field and a cluster of poplars, but 
 the sides of the crater were almost wholly devoid of 
 vegetation ; and the white stone where quarried, and it 
 was quarried extensively, glistened like sugar, with a 
 greenish white lustre. In coming from Aries I had 
 travelled third class, in a compartment on top of the 
 second and first class carriages ; for on these little 
 lines the carriages are of two storeys ; the upper 
 storey commands the best view ; and in the compart- 
 ment with me was an intelligent postman. We got 
 
 I 2 
 
1 6 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 into conversation about Les Baux. He told me that 
 he had lived there, and had found there a considerable 
 number of flint and bronze weapons. He was now 
 stationed at Tarascon, and he invited me to pay him a 
 visit, when he would show me the weapons he had 
 found on these hills. He also strongly urged me not 
 to return by the same route, but to strike across the 
 chain, reach S. Remy, see the Roman remains there, 
 
 /;,; :;-yf" 
 
 k \m « 
 
 V'^Wi'v 
 
 Les Baux. 
 
 catch the evening train, and so return to Aries by 
 Tarascon. 
 
 And now for Les Baux, which is certainly one of 
 the most astounding places I have ever seen. 
 
 Let the reader conceive of a rocky plateau standing 
 up on abrupt precipices above the plain, with its top 
 not altogether level, but inclined to the west, and the 
 eastern side fringed with white crags. Let him 
 imagine a little town clustered on the slope to the 
 west, clinging to the inclined surface to prevent 
 
LES BAUX. 117 
 
 itself from slipping over the edge and shooting down 
 the precipice. Then let him imagine the white lime- 
 stone fringe that rises to the east some ninety feet 
 above the town, adapted to serve the purpose of a 
 castle, natural cliffs sculptured and perforated to form 
 window and door, and vault and hall, and where living 
 rock did not avail, masonry added, and the whole 
 thrown into ruin. This is what he sees looking up 
 from the valley. Then let him climb the steep ascent, 
 anciently the only way by which the town and castle 
 could be approached, and his amazement will grow 
 with every step he takes. After having passed under 
 a gateway well defended, he will find himself in the 
 street of a Mediaeval Pompeii : houses — not cottages, 
 but the mansions of nobles — all, or nearly all, in ruins 
 and uninhabited, some with architectural pretensions ; 
 a church, still in use, dedicated to S. Vincent ; another 
 still larger, S. Claude, half sculptured out of the living 
 rock, half of masonry, beautifully vaulted, with no 
 glass in the windows, and the doors fallen in ; a 
 chapel of S. Anne, without a roof, and some trees 
 growing out of the floor. Another church, the second 
 parish church of Les Baux, S. Andrew, crumbled to 
 its foundations. Further up the ascent, bedded in 
 the ruins of the castle, a beautiful Gothic chapel with 
 delicate ribbed vaulting of the thirteenth century, also 
 in ruins. On one portion of the platform to the south 
 the remains of a great hospital^ with the recesses for 
 the beds of the patients round it. A cemetery 
 enclosed within walls ; guard rooms, halls, a mighty 
 dove-cot hewn out of the rock ; galleries and the 
 windows of banqueting halls cut in the rock ; high up, 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 unapproachable, as the masonry has been blown up 
 and thrown down that formed the western side of the 
 castle. And to the north, where was the only- 
 approach to the castle by the neck of land, a curved 
 ridge of limestone rock was hewn into a wall of 
 defence. Now a road has been engineered along this 
 col, and the rock wall has been cut through ; not only 
 so, but it has been carried through a nobleman's 
 mansion, and the sculptured fireplaces overhang the 
 carriage road. 
 
 Such, briefly, is the general aspect of Les Baux. 
 Now we will enter into details. We will begin with 
 the only parish church still in use. This church 
 consists of nave and side aisles, with lateral chapels. 
 The floor of the church is honeycombed with graves 
 scooped out of the rock. In one of these before the 
 high altar, a few years ago, when the slab that covered 
 it was raised, the body of a man in rich garments was 
 disclosed holding a book in his hand, that seemed to 
 have escaped the ravages of time. However, on the 
 first touch, it fell to dust. In another sepulchre was 
 found the body of a young lady. Singularly enough, 
 her hair, which was of a golden straw colour, was 
 uninjured, though the rest of her body crumbled to 
 dust in the air. The innkeeper of the little place 
 managed to possess himself of it, and at once dubbed 
 his tavern " A la Chevelure d'Or." He was wont to 
 exhibit the mass of golden locks to the visitor for a 
 consideration. Recently the tavern has changed 
 hands, and the old innkeeper has carried off with him 
 the golden locks. Consequently, the inn has changed 
 its name, and is now the Hotel Monaco. 
 

 ■'■ 1 f 
 
 ^^.JMiJl^K:, 
 
 i- ^£5* 
 
 4 
 
 -13 
 
 «t^' 5 
 
 .:* 
 
 V 
 
 
 
LES BAUX. 119 
 
 In front of the church is a small platform that over- 
 hangs the precipice. On it is the ruined chapel of the 
 White Penitents, erected in 1659. Over the door 
 may be read with difficulty the inscription in Latin, 
 " At the name of Jesus every knee shall bow." Hard 
 by is a cistern, semicircular, dug out of the living 
 rock ; this goes by the name of the deimo — that is to 
 say, the place of tithe. Into this cistern the farmers 
 of the manor were bound to pour the tenth of all the 
 wine they made, as the due of the Lord of Les Baux. 
 
 The ruined church of S. Claude has in the bosses of 
 the vaulting the arms of the Princes of Les Baux, and 
 of other noble families who lived in the little town 
 and were feudatories of the princes, as well as of 
 some of the guilds which had chapels in this church. 
 The arms of the princes represented a star, for these 
 princes claimed descent from Balthazar, one of the 
 Magi who came from the East to bring gifts to the 
 infant Saviour. 
 
 The tomb of Raymond des Baux, grand chamber- 
 lain of Queen Jeanne of Naples, at Casaluccio, bears 
 the inscription, "To the illustrious family of the 
 Baux, which is held to derive its origin from the 
 ancient kings of Armenia, to whom, under the 
 guidance of a star, the Saviour of the world mani- 
 fested Himself." 
 
 The Barony of Les Baux consisted of seventy-nine 
 towns or bourgs, which formed the territory called La 
 Baussenique. It was confiscated by Louis III., Duke 
 of Anjou, and Count of Provence in 1414, after 
 having been governed by one family from Pons des 
 Baux, the first who appears in history, and who died 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 in 970. The last male representative died in 1374, 
 and his sister and heiress, Alice, married Conrad, 
 Count of Freiburg, who died in 1 4 1 4. She bequeathed 
 the principality to her kinsman, William, Duke of 
 Andria, but on account of his attachment to the 
 opposed party, Louis III. seized on Les Baux. In 
 1642, Louis XIII. erected it into a marquisate, and 
 gave it to Honore Grimaldi, Prince of Monaco, and 
 it remained in the possession of the House of Monaco 
 till the revolution of 1789. 
 
 The princes of Baux were podestas of Milan, 
 consul-podestas of Aries, where they had a castle, 
 were seneschals of Piedmont, grand justiciaries of the 
 kingdom of Naples, princes of Orange, and viscounts 
 of Marseilles. They bore also the titles of counts of 
 Provence, kings of Aries and Vienne, princes of 
 Achaia, counts of Cephalonia, and finally assumed that 
 of emperors of Constantinople. 
 
 The castle was thrice besieged, twice destroyed, 
 and again rebuilt ; it lasted over eleven centuries. 
 The most complete restoration of the castle and of 
 the town-walls took place in 1444 by Louis III. of 
 Provence ; but when it passed to the Crown of France 
 in 1630, by order of Cardinal Richelieu, it was 
 destroyed. The strength of the position was such 
 that he feared it. 
 
 In the old days, when the Princes and Princesses 
 des Baux held court in this eagle's nest, it was a great 
 resort of the troubadours, who came to it from all 
 quarters. Fouquet, the Provencal poet, celebrated in 
 his verses Adelasia, wife of Berald, Prince of Baux. 
 He was filled with a romantic love for this exalted 
 
LES BAUX. 
 
 lady, and on her death, in a fit of sorrow, became 
 monk of Citeaux. Afterwards he became abbot of 
 Thoronet, bishop of Marseilles, and finally archbishop 
 of Toulouse. 
 
 He was born between 1160 and 11 70, and was the 
 son of a merchant of Venice who had retired from 
 business and settled at Marseilles. When Richard 
 Cceur de Lion was on his way to Syria, he made some 
 stay at Marseilles before going on to Genoa, where 
 he was to embark, and there Fouquet insinuated 
 himself into his good graces. He was married, but 
 his wife was sorely neglected, and all his devotion was 
 paid to the lady Adelasia des Baux. 
 
 Provencal traditions diverge as to the result of his 
 suit. According to one account, he could "jamais 
 trouver merci, ni obtenir aucun bien en droit d'amour," 
 from the object of his passion, and, in disgust, he 
 turned to make love to Laura de S. Jorlan, sister of 
 Berald des Baux. But the other account is that he 
 made love to both ladies at once, and that Adelasia 
 cast him off because she found that his fickle heart 
 was turning to the fresher charms of Laura. Anyhow, 
 he made his rejection by Adelasia the subject of 
 poetical laments, and prosecuted with vigour his siege 
 of the heart and virtue of his patron's sister. And 
 then he pursued with the same ardour the conquest of 
 Eudoxia, wife of William, Count of Montpellier. 
 
 As already said, after the death of Adelasia, he 
 assumed the cowl. As Bishop of Toulouse, he 
 exercised the ferocity of a wolf in his dealings with the 
 Albigenses. " There is no act of treachery or cruelty 
 throughout the war," says Dean Milman, "in which 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 the Bishop of Toulouse was not the most forward, 
 sanguinary, and unscrupulous." The historian of his 
 life, in the ' Histoire Litteraire de la France,' says of 
 him : " After having given half his life to gallantry, he 
 gave up, without restraint, the remainder of his life 
 to the cause of tyranny, murder, and spoliation, and 
 unhappily he profited by it. . . . Loving women 
 passionately, a ferocious apostle of the Inquisition, he 
 did not give up the composition of verses which bore 
 the impress of his successive passions." 
 
 Another troubadour, William de Cabestaing, sang 
 the praises of Berengaria des Baux. Afterwards he 
 lost his heart to Sermonda, wife of Raymond de 
 Roussillon, who, not seeing the fun of this romantic 
 spooning of his wife, waylaid and slew him, then 
 plucked out his heart and had it served up at table in 
 the evening. After his wife had partaken of the dish 
 he informed her that what she had tasted was the 
 heart of her admirer. She, full of horror, threw 
 herself from a window of the castle and was dashed to 
 pieces. This outrage was the occasion of civil war. 
 The relatives of the lady and of William de Cabestaing 
 persuaded Alphonso I., King of Aragon, to ravage the 
 territories of the Count of Roussillon and to destroy 
 his castle. 
 
 Again, another troubadour, Sordel, sang the praises 
 of Rambaude des Baux, but in such enigmatical 
 fashion that his verses may be read as a satire upon 
 her charms. 
 
 The princely family, moreover, had among its 
 members two troubadours, Berard des Baux in the 
 twelfth century, and in the next Rambaud des Baux, 
 
LES BAUX. 123 
 
 who in 1236 distinguished himself by his songs in 
 honour of Marie de Chateauvert and of the Countess 
 of Argeuil. 
 
 In 1244 the troubadours vied with each other in 
 lauding Cecilia des Baux, who was called Passe- Rose, 
 on account of her beauty. Other ladies of the same 
 family sung by the poets were Clairette in 1270 and 
 1275 by Pierre d'Auvergne, and Etiennette de 
 Ganteaume — who shone in the Court of Love in 
 1332 at Romanil, and Baussette, daughter of Hugh 
 des Baux in 1323, sung by Roger of Aries. So the 
 family must have been one that in its alliances and 
 daughters was distinguished by its beauty, or else 
 paid liberally for flattery. 
 
 Vernon Lee, in her Euphorion, passes a severe 
 sentence on the romantic affection professed by the 
 minstrels of the Middle Ages for noble ladies. She 
 says it was rank adultery and nothing short. I do not 
 think so. There may have been cases, there no doubt 
 were instances of criminal passion, but in nine cases 
 out of ten these troubadours sang for their bread 
 and butter. They lauded the seigneurs to the skies 
 for their gestes of valour, and their ladies for their 
 transcendent beauty ; they laid on their colours with a 
 trowel, and were paid for so doing. That some of 
 them burnt their fingers in playing with fire one 
 cannot doubt, but I hardly think that they set to work 
 in their trifling with the intent of provoking blisters. 
 The husbands of the much-lauded ladies were hardly 
 likely to suffer this sort of fun to proceed beyond 
 romancing. There was always a chance of a minstrel 
 who went too far with his heart into the flames, 
 
i2 4 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 getting it roasted on a spit and served up a la William 
 de Cabestaing. 
 
 Besides, a good many of these much-besung ladies 
 were no young brides, but mature and withering 
 matrons. A troubadour attached himself to a lady as 
 he attached himself to a seigneur, and, as a client of 
 both, fawned on and flattered both. I cannot refer to 
 Petrarch, for I believe his Laura was not a married 
 woman, and the Platonism of his affection is more 
 than questionable. He was not an acknowledged 
 troubabour, but an exile, whom the haughty family of 
 Sade would not suffer Laura to marry. But there is 
 the case of Dante and Beatrice, and of Wolfram of 
 Eschenbach, one of the noblest and purest of singers, 
 who idealised his lady Elizabeth, wife of the Baron of 
 Hartenstein, and with him most undoubtedly the 
 devotion was without tincture of grossness. It is 
 precisely this unreal love, or playing at love-making, 
 that is scoffed at by Cervantes in Don Quixote and 
 the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso. 
 
 Why, that unfortunate William de Cabestaing, whose 
 
 heart was offered to his mistress, sang of her as cold to 
 
 his suit : — 
 
 " Since Adam gathered from the tree 
 The apple, cause of all our woe, 
 Christ ne'er inspired so fair a she. 
 A graceful form, not high nor low, 
 A model of just symmetry, 
 A skin whose purity and glow 
 The rarest amethyst surpass ; 
 So fair is she for whom I sigh. 
 But vain are all my sighs, alas ! 
 She heeds me not, nor deigns reply." 
 
 The Courts of Love held by ladies of high rank were 
 
LES BAUX. 125 
 
 originally courts in which the rules of minstrelsy were 
 laid down, they pronounced on the qualifications of a 
 candidate, they polished and cherished the Langue 
 d'oc in its purity, dictated the subjects upon which the 
 troubadours were to compose their lays, judged their 
 pretensions, settled their controversies, recompensed 
 their merits, and punished by disgrace or exclusion 
 those who violated the laws. In the twelfth century 
 these Courts of Ladies drew up Provencal grammars, 
 in which the rules of the dialect were laid down. One 
 of these is the " Donatus provincialis," another was 
 composed by Raimond Vidal. But these Courts of 
 Love went further. They laid down rules for love ; 
 they allowed married women to receive the homage of 
 lovers, and even nicely directed all the symptoms they 
 were to exhibit of reciprocation. But it is quite 
 possible that this was all solemn fooling, and meant no 
 harm. 
 
 I wonder whether those golden locks carried off by 
 the taverner had belonged to one of those queens of 
 beauty sung by the troubadours ! Probably so, for 
 the church of S. Vincent was their mausoleum. 
 
 One of the noble families that owed feudal duty to 
 the Lords of Les Baux was that of Porcelet, and their 
 mansion is one of the very few that is not deserted 
 and ruinous in the little town. It is now occupied by 
 some Sisters of Mercy who keep in it an orphanage. 
 The Porcelets were the first nobles of Aries. King 
 Rene of Anjou, who was fond of giving nicknames, 
 sometimes flattering, sometimes the reverse to this, 
 entitled the family Grandeur des Porcelets. Other of 
 his designations were Inconstance des Baux, Deloyaute 
 
12 6 IN TRO UBAD UR-LA ND. 
 
 de Beaufort, Envie de Candole, Dissolution de 
 Castelane, Sottise de Grasse, and Opiniatrete de Sade. 
 
 A story is told of one of the sieges of Les Baux which 
 is found elsewhere. The garrison of the castle and the 
 inhabitants of the town were reduced to great straits 
 for food, when orders were issued that everyone should 
 surrender what he had into a common fund, to be 
 doled out in equal portions to all. As none complied 
 with this order, a domiciliary visit was made to every 
 house, when an old woman was found to have a pig, 
 likewise a sack of barley meal. The Sieur des Baux 
 ordered the pig to be given a feed and then to be 
 thrown over the precipice. When the besiegers found 
 that the besieged had a pig so well nourished they 
 thought it was hopeless to reduce the place, and raised 
 the siege. 
 
 In the thirteenth century the little eagle's nest of a town 
 numbered three thousand six hundred inhabitants. At 
 the present time it cannot count four hundred. Every 
 two or three years sees another house deserted, and 
 the tenants migrate to the valley or plain. 
 
 The houses are, like the castle, partly scooped out 
 of the rock, and partly constructed. Whole chambers, 
 kitchens, cellars are veritable caverns. There can be 
 no doubt that the place has been colonised from 
 prehistoric times, and that many ol these caves are the 
 dwellings of a primitive population in the Stone period. 
 Vast quantities of Greek Marseilles medals and of 
 coins of the Empire have been found here, as well as 
 fragments of pottery of every age. A few years ago a 
 beautiful bronze helmet of Greek shape was here 
 discovered. 
 
LES BAUX. 127 
 
 The place has served as a refuge for the inhabitants 
 of Aries at various periods. Hither they fled before 
 the Teutons and Ambrons in B.C. 102, when these 
 invaders swept across the south of Gaul on their 
 return from Spain ; and opposite Les Baux, on the 
 heights of Costa Pera, may be traced the walled camp 
 and cisterns, where they took refuge and remained till 
 the danger was overpast. Again, in a.d. 480, when 
 Earic, king of the Visigoths, took possession of Aries, 
 the inhabitants fled to the heights of Les Baux and 
 constructed dwellings for themselves there in the 
 rock. These chambers, scooped out of the limestone 
 crag, are locally called Baumes. 
 
 Anciently the roofs of the castle caught the rains, and 
 shoots conveyed the water into great reservoirs that 
 remain, but since the destruction of the castle the 
 inhabitants have had to pave one whole sweep of the 
 plateau so as to catch the showers, and convey them 
 away into a subterranean cistern where the water 
 purifies itself for use. 
 
 After the Hotel Dieu ceased to be used as an hospital, 
 it was converted into an arena for bull-fights, but as 
 on several occasions the bulls escaped and fell over the 
 precipices, the utilisation of the great hall for this 
 purpose was abandoned. 
 
 I had a charming walk across the hills to S. Remy, 
 near which are the remains of the Roman city of 
 Glanum Liviae. These remains consist of a triumphal 
 arch, and a lovely monument about fifty feet high, 
 quadrangular at the base, adorned with well-preserved 
 bas-reliefs representing a skirmish of cavalry, a com- 
 bat of infantry, and a sacrifice after a battle. Above 
 
IN TR UBAD O UR-LA ND. 
 
 this basement rises a circular temple with Corinthian 
 pillars, containing in the midst two statues. The 
 triumphal arch is not in equally good condition. The 
 bas-reliefs on it represent captive barbarians and their 
 wives. I caught the evening train at S. Remy, and 
 again ascended to the third-class compartment in the 
 upper storey. Presently after me came the guard : 
 " Would not Monsieur like to descend ? There is 
 female society downstairs." " But, assuredly — only I 
 have a third-class ticket." " Qa ne fait rien," replied 
 the guard, "so have the ladies below, but we never 
 send them up into the attics. Come, monsieur ! " 
 Accordingly I descended to a carriage-load of cheery 
 Aries damsels and matrons in the quaint and picturesque 
 costume of that town, and to a little French doctor and 
 a couple of good-natured Zouaves. 
 
 " But — this is very remarkable," said the doctor. 
 " Only an hour ago I saw a monsieur in the same 
 hat and boots as yourself— only the face was not the 
 same." " Very possibly. Are you a doctor, and do 
 not recognise Jager garments? I am not, it is true, 
 in coat and continuations of that sanitary reformer, 
 because I had to discard them. The fact is, I had a 
 complete suit, but having been out in the rain in them, 
 they shrank on me to such an extent that I entered the 
 house contracted like a trussed fowl, and had to be 
 cut out of the suit with a penknife." 
 
 " What countryman are you ?" asked the doctor. 
 
 When I told him he shook his head. " You have 
 
 not an English pronunciation. Are you German ?" I 
 
 also shook my head. Then he attempted some words 
 
 in English. I was obliged to laugh : he was un- 
 
LES BA UX. 
 
 129 
 
 As I could not understand his English- 
 
 intelligible. 
 
 " Mais, Monsieur ! " said the Aries women, " you must 
 
 be a Swiss." 
 
 It was not complimentary, I must admit, to be 
 thought to speak French with a German accent. It 
 has come about thus, I suppose, that, though as a boy 
 I lived in France for many years, yet of late I have 
 been, almost annually, a visitor to Germany. 
 
 I only mention this incident, because I got into 
 trouble later through a similar misapprehension as 
 to my nationality. 
 
 Range of the Alpines from Glanum Livle. 
 
i 3 o IN TROUBAJ)OUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 
 
 The Tremaie — Representation of C. Marius, Martha, and Julia — The 
 Gaie — The Teutons and Ambrons and Cimbri threaten Italy — 
 C. Marius sent against them — His camp at S. Gabriel — The 
 canal he cut — The barbarians cross the Rhone — First brush with 
 them — They defile before him at Orgon — The rout of the 
 Ambrons at Les Milles — He follows the Teutons — The plain of 
 Pourrieres — Position of Marius — The battle — Slaughter of the 
 Teutons — Position of their camp — Monument of Marius — Venus 
 Victrix — Annual commemoration. 
 
 two oldest and most interesting 
 monuments of Les Baux have 
 ruins s. Gabriel. been unnoticed in the last 
 
 chapter. These are the sculptured stones of Tremaie 
 and Gaie. They are two limestone blocks fallen from 
 the precipices above, lying on the flounce of rubble near 
 the bottom of the promontory of Les Baux, the one on 
 the east the other on the south. That on the east, La 
 Tremaie, consists of a block of shell-limestone about 
 twenty-five feet high, in which, twelve feet from the 
 soil, is sculptured a semicircular headed niche, five and 
 a half feet high by four and a half feet wide, that 
 contains a group of three personages, a bearded man 
 on the left of the observer, a tall woman in the centre 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIO'S. 
 
 131 
 
 and on the right another woman, 
 confess I supposed this was a bit of 
 
 wearing a mitre 
 
 At first glance, I 
 
 sculpture of the eleventh century, but on climbing to 
 
 the roof of the chapel erected beneath the niche, some 
 
 forty-five years ago, I was able to examine the group 
 
 minutely, and satisfied myself that the work is of the 
 
 Classic period. 
 
 What gave me the first impression that it was of 
 later date was the _. 
 use of the honey- 
 suckle ornament 
 at the crown of 
 the arch, and 
 at the capitals of 
 the pillars sup- 
 porting it, which 
 was adopted by 
 architects of the 
 eleventh century 
 from Classic 
 work. But on 
 close examina- 
 tion I found that, 
 not only were the 
 figures dressed in pure Classic tunics and togas, but 
 that the drapery is modelled in conformity with that 
 of the same epoch, and is quite distinct from the 
 modelling by the Mediaeval artists. This is specially 
 noticeable where the statues have been protected by 
 the sides from weathering. 
 
 Moreover, below the figures is an inscription in 
 letters, the date of which is unmistakable, though 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 unfortunately it can be only partially deciphered. It 
 runs : — 
 
 F. Caldvs 
 
 AE POSVIT. P. . . 
 
 The three figures are life-size. The central one is 
 very peculiar, owing to the mitre or diadem it wears, 
 which, however, is utterly unlike the episcopal mitre 
 of the eleventh century. Moreover, there is no doubt 
 about the person wearing it being a female. 
 
 Popular belief, also, does not err as to her sex ; 
 it has made a mistake relative to that of the man on 
 her right, and when some forty-five years ago the cure 
 of Les Baux erected the chapel under the rock, he 
 believed that these figures represented the Three 
 Marys. 
 
 The man is in consular habit, the toga, neque fusa 
 ncque rcstricta, worn till the time of Augustus. His 
 feet appear beneath the tunic. Unfortunately the face 
 is too much weathered to present any features. Not 
 so the tall, mitred central figure, whose right hand is 
 raised, as is thought, to hold a staff wreathed with 
 chaplets. Her mantle, the IfxaTiov, is clasped on the 
 shoulder of her right arm. The third figure is that of 
 a Roman matron. 
 
 Now it has been supposed, with a great degree of 
 probability, that these three figures represent C. Marius, 
 his wife Julia, and the prophetess Martha, who attended 
 him in his campaign against the Teutons and 
 Ambrons. Plutarch says : "He had with him a 
 Syrian woman named Martha, who was said to have 
 the gift of prophecy. She was carried about in a 
 litter with great solemnity, and the sacrifices which he 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARTUS. 
 
 133 
 
 offered were all by her direction. When she went to 
 sacrifice she wore a purple robe, lined with the same, 
 and buttoned up, and held in her hand a spear adorned 
 with ribands and garlands." 
 
 I confess that the staff with ribands and chaplets 
 seen by some in this sculpture, were not distinguish- 
 able by myself. At the same time I was puzzled 
 with certain ornaments below the raised hand of the 
 diademed lady, which I could not explain. It is said 
 that the staff is only visible when the morning sun 
 strikes the weathered surface. It may be there — but 
 I think that a fold of drapery has been mistaken for a 
 staff. Yet — the wreath or buckle below her hand in 
 such a case remains unaccounted for. 
 
 If these three figures represent Caius Marius, 
 Martha, and Julia, then we can understand the name 
 given the group — Les Tremaies — the three Marii ; 
 Caius Marius, Martha Marii, and Julia Marii, which 
 has since been altered into Les Trois 'Maries, and 
 the figures assumed to be those of Mary the wife 
 of Salome, Mary Magdalen, and Martha the sister of 
 Mary. In the belief that such is the case, Mass is 
 said in the chapel on the 25th of May, and there is 
 a concourse of devotees assembled from the neigh- 
 bourhood around the little chapel and memorial 
 stone. 
 
 The second sculptured block lies about three hundred 
 paces to the south, and is called Les Gaie, i.e., Caii 
 imagines. It resembles hundreds of similar Roman 
 monuments to a husband and wife, found in the 
 museums of Rome, Aries, Nimes, and Avignon. 
 
 Here also there is a niche, four feet wide by two 
 
134 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 feet four inches high. On the right of the observer is 
 a bearded man holding a roll in his left hand, and with 
 his right he clasps the right hand of his wife. He is in 
 consular habit ; unfortunately both heads have been 
 damaged. At some time or other a Vandal thought 
 that the upper portion of the block would serve his 
 purpose as a step or threshold, and drove a crowbar 
 into the face of the stone between the two heads, and 
 split off the cap, thus exposing the sculpture to the 
 ash of the rain. 
 
 Beneath the figures is 
 
 r^ 
 
 Les Gaie. 
 
 an inscription no longer 
 legible. It is possible 
 that this monument 
 may represent Caius 
 Marius and his wife 
 Julia. A somewhat 
 lively French imagina- 
 tion has taken the 
 figure of the man to be 
 Martha with her staff 
 and mitre, but I ex- 
 amined the sculpture under a favourable light, and 
 satisfied myself that this figure is that of a man. The 
 face was apparently struck by the crowbar, which has 
 broken off a film of the limestone, and destroyed the 
 nose. 
 
 The Caldus whose name appears on the Tremaie is 
 probably Caius Ceelius Caldus, who belonged to the 
 party of Marius, was created tribune B.C. 107, and who 
 was one of the lieutenants of Marius in the war against 
 the Cimbri, and signed a disgraceful treaty with the 
 Ligurians to save the remnant of the army, after the 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 135 
 
 death of the consul Cassius. He was named consul 
 B.C. 97, and some medals struck by him exist. 
 Possibly Caldus erected this monument in honour of 
 Marius, who had made the platform of Les Baux and 
 the range of the Alpines the vantage ground whence 
 he watched the march of the Teutons and whence he 
 swooped down to destroy them. 
 
 The great figure of Caius Marius overshadows the 
 whole of Provence, and it is not possible for one who 
 has any interest in the past not to feel its influence 
 and be inspired by it. Stirred by the sight of these 
 sculptures at Les Baux, I resolved to go over all the 
 ground of his campaign, Plutarch in hand, and I 
 venture to think that what I saw and discovered will 
 not only interest the reader, but help to elucidate the 
 history of that memorable struggle. 
 
 In the year B.C. 113, there appeared to the north of 
 the Adriatic, on the right bank of the Danube, a vast 
 horde of barbarians ravaging Noricum — the present 
 Austria, andj threatening Italy. Two nations prevailed, 
 the Cimbri, Kaempir, i.e., warriors, perhaps Scandi- 
 navian, and the Teutons, pure Germans. They had 
 come from afar, from the Cimbric peninsula, now 
 Jutland and Holstein, driven from their homes by 
 an irruption of the sea. For a while they roamed 
 over Germany. The consul Papirius Carbo was 
 despatched in all haste to defend the menaced 
 frontier of Italy. The barbarians pleaded to be 
 given lands on which to settle. Carbo treacherously 
 attacked them, but was defeated. However, the 
 hordes did not yet venture to cross the Alps. They 
 inundated the Swiss valleys, and as they flowed west 
 
1 3 6 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LA ND. 
 
 swept along with them other races, amongst which 
 was that of the Ambrons, a German race, whose 
 name meets us again as Sicambrians, of which stock 
 later was Chlodovig (Clovis). When Clovis was 
 about to enter the font, S. Remigius thus addressed 
 him : " Bow thy head, haughty Sicambrian ; adore 
 what thou hast burned ; burn what thou didst 
 adore." 
 
 In the year B.C. no all together entered Gaul, and 
 then, continuing their wanderings and ravages in 
 central Gaul, at last reached the Rhone and menaced 
 the Roman province. There, however, the fear of 
 Rome arrested their progress ; they applied anew for 
 lands, but Silanus, the governor, answered them 
 haughtily, that the commonwealth had neither lands 
 to give nor services to accept from barbarians. He 
 attacked them and was defeated. Three consuls, L. 
 Cassius, C. Servilius Caepio, and Cn. Manlius, sent in 
 all haste against them, successively experienced the 
 same fate. With the barbarians victory bred presump- 
 tion. Their chieftains met, and deliberated whether 
 they should not forthwith cross into Italy and exter- 
 minate or enslave the Romans. Scaurus, a prisoner, 
 was present at this deliberation. He laughed at the 
 threat, and cried to his captors, " Go, but the Romans 
 you will find are invincible." In a transport of fury 
 one of the chiefs present ran him through with his 
 sword. Howbeit the warning of Scaurus had its 
 effect. The barbarians scoured the Roman province, 
 but did not as yet dare to invade the sacred soil of 
 the peninsula. 
 
 Then the Cimbri broke off from their comrades and 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 
 
 i37 
 
 passed into Spain, as an overswollen torrent divides, 
 and disperses its waters in all directions. 
 
 After ravaging Spain, the Cimbri returned, and the 
 re-united hordes resolved no longer to spare Italy. 
 The Cimbri were to invade it by way of the Brenner 
 pass and the Adige, the Teutons and Ambrons by 
 the Maritime Alps. 
 
 The utmost terror prevailed in Rome, and throughout 
 Italy. There was but 
 one man, it was said, 
 who could avert the 
 clanger. It was Marius, 
 low-born, but already 
 illustrious, esteemed by 
 the senate for his 
 military genius and 
 successes ; swaying at 
 his will the people, who 
 saw in him one of them- 
 selves ; beloved and 
 feared by the army for 
 his bravery, his rigorous 
 discipline, and for his 
 readiness to share with 
 
 Caius Marius. 
 hlS SOldierS all toils, and {From a bast in the Vatican.) 
 
 dangers ; stern and rugged, lacking education, 
 eloquence, and riches, but resolute and dexterous in 
 the field. His father had been a farmer, and his hands 
 had been hardened in youth at the plough. But as a 
 free-born Latin he had been called to serve in war, 
 and his skill and genius had advanced him, from step 
 to step. He was consul in Africa at the time when 
 
133 
 
 IN TR UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 summoned to save his country from the danger 
 threatening it from the barbarian hordes. 
 
 On reaching Provence, he found the soldiers de- 
 moralised by disaster, and with discipline relaxed. 
 The barbarians had not as yet reached the Rhone, 
 they were moving east slowly, and during the winter 
 remained stationary. He had therefore time to 
 organise his troops and choose his positions. 
 
 Now the old Gra^co- Phoenician road along the coast, 
 that had been restored by the consul Cn. Domitius, 
 
 * 9b- '< u.| *<*& 
 
 .jyuil 1 ::^ 
 
 Orgon and the Durance. 
 
 and thenceforth bore his name, deserted the coast as 
 it approached the mouths of the Rhone, the region of 
 morasses, stony deserts, lagoons, and broad streams ; 
 kept to the heights, and reached Nimes, whence, still 
 skirting lagoons, it ran along the high ground of lime- 
 stone to Beaucaire. The Rhone was crossed to Tar- 
 ascon, and thence the road followed the Durance up to 
 Orgon, where it branched ; one road to the left went to 
 Apt, and crossed the Alps into Italy by Pont Genevre, 
 the other turned south to Aix and Marseilles. The 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 139 
 
 road, afterwards called the Aurelian way, led from 
 Aix up the river Are, over a low col to S. Maximin, 
 and reached the coast by the valley of the Argens, 
 that flows into the sea at Frejus. It was a little 
 doubtful to Marius which course the barbarians would 
 pursue. Accordingly he formed a strong camp at 
 Ernaginum, now S. Gabriel, at the extreme limit of 
 the chain of the Alpines, to the west. 
 
 Almost certainly all the inhabitants of Aries, Taras- 
 con, Glanum, and Cavaillon, all Grseco-Gaulish towns, 
 took refuge on the plateau of the limestone hills. The 
 barbarians could not go south of the Alpines, because 
 the whole region was desert, or was covered with 
 lagoons. In order to victual his camp, Marius set his 
 soldiers to work to convey a branch of the Durance* 
 past Ernaginum into the lagoons below, and he cut a 
 channel of communication between these lagoons, and 
 opened a mouth into the sea through the Etang de 
 Galejon. By this means vessels from Rome or 
 Marseilles could reach the walls of his camp with 
 supplies. 
 
 In the spring of 102 B.C. the Teutons and 
 Ambrons packed their tents and began to move east. 
 The grass had grown sufficiently to feed their horses 
 and oxen. Marius allowed them to traverse the 
 Rhone without offering resistance ; and they began 
 their march along the road that ran at the foot of the 
 precipitous Alpines. 
 
 * Plutarch says the Rhone, but he is almost certainly mistaken. 
 The canal was afterwards probably that called Les Lonnes (lagunes), 
 the dried-up bed of which can be distinguished in places still. The 
 line from Tarascon to Aries runs beside it for a little way. See 
 Appendix B. 
 
1 40 IN TR UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 They soon appeared, "in immense numbers," says 
 Plutarch, " with their hideous looks and their wild 
 cries," drawing up their chariots, and planting their 
 tents in front of the Roman camp. They showered 
 upon Marius and his soldiers continual insult and 
 defiance. The Romans, in their irritation, would fain 
 have rushed out of their camp, but Marius restrained 
 them. "It is no question," said he, with his simple 
 and convincing common sense, " of gaining triumphs 
 and trophies, but of averting this storm of war and of 
 saving Italy." 
 
 A Teuton chief came one day up to the very gates 
 of the camp, and challenged him to fight. Marius had 
 him informed that if he were weary of life, he could go 
 and hang himself. As the barbarian still persisted, 
 Marius sent him a gladiator. 
 
 However, he made his soldiers, in regular succession, 
 mount guard on the ramparts, to get them familiarised 
 with the cries, appearance, and weapons of the 
 barbarians. The most distinguished of his officers, 
 young Sertorius, a man whose tragic story is, itself, 
 a romance, and who understood and spoke Gallic 
 well, penetrated in the disguise of a Gaul into the 
 camp of the Ambrons. arfd informed Marius of what 
 was going on there. 
 
 At last, the barbarians, in their impatience, having 
 vainly attempted to storm the Roman camp at 
 Ernaginum, struck their own, and put themselves in 
 motion towards the Alps. 
 
 Marius followed them along the heights, out of reach, 
 ready to rush down on their rear, observant of their 
 every movement. They reached Orgon. There the 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 141 
 
 limestone precipices rise as walls sheer above the plain, 
 now crowned by a church and a couple of ruined 
 castles. It was probably from this point that Marius 
 watched the hordes defile past. For six whole days, it 
 is said, their bands flowed before the Roman position. 
 The Teutons looked up at the military on the cliffs 
 and flung at them the insolent question : " Have you 
 any messages for your wives in Italy ? We shall soon 
 be with them." 
 
 The soldiers, still restrained by Marius, waited till 
 all had passed, and then the general struck his camp, 
 and crossing the dip at Lamanon, where the over- 
 spill of the Durance had once carried its rolled 
 stones into the Crau, he regained the heights on the 
 farther side of the Touloubre, at Pelissanne, the 
 ancient Pisavis. 
 
 Still keeping to the heights, now of red sandstone, 
 Marius again came on the barbarians at Les Milles, 
 four miles to the south of Aix. He had observed all 
 their movements, and had seen that the Ambrons had 
 detached themselves from the Teutons at Aix, so as to 
 make a descent on Marseilles. Possibly Aix had been 
 given up to ravage by the Teutons, and the Ambrons 
 were bidden find their spoil in Marseilles. At Les 
 Milles the red sandstone cliff stands above the Are, 
 which makes here a sweep, leaving a green meadow 
 in the loop. Here, from under the rocks ooze forth 
 countless streams ; some were, like those at Aix, hot ; * 
 now I will again quote Plutarch. " Here Marius 
 
 * Whether so at present I am unable to state, not having been 
 able to test them. All the hot springs have been reduced in 
 temperature considerably since Roman times. 
 
1 4 2 IN TR UBA D UR-LA ND. 
 
 pitched on a place for his camp, unexceptionable in 
 point of strength, but affording little water ; and when 
 his soldiers complained of thirst, he pointed to the river 
 that flowed by the enemy's camp, and told them, ' that 
 they must thence purchase water with their blood.' 
 1 Why then,' said they, ' do you not immediately lead 
 us thither, before our blood is quite parched ? ' To 
 which he replied, in a milder tone, ' So I will ; but first 
 of all let us fortify our camp.' 
 
 " The soldiers, though with some reluctance, 
 obeyed. But the camp-followers, being in great want 
 of water for themselves and their cattle, ran in crowds 
 to the stream, some with pick-axes, some with 
 hatchets, and some with swords and javelins, along 
 with their pitchers ; for they were resolved to have 
 water, even if forced to fight for it. These were, at 
 first, encountered by only a small party of the enemy ; 
 for of the main body, some, having bathed, were 
 engaged at dinner, and others were still bathing, the 
 country there abounding in hot wells. This gave 
 the Romans a chance of cutting off a number of 
 them, while they were indulging themselves in these 
 delightful baths. Their cry brought others to their 
 assistance, so that now it was no longer possible for 
 Marius to restrain the impetuosity of his soldiers, who 
 were uneasy for the fate of their servants. Besides, 
 these were the Ambrons, who had defeated Manlius 
 and Csepio, that they saw before them." The contest 
 became general. The Ambrons rushed across the 
 river, yelling " Ambra ! Ambra ! " their war-cry, which 
 was at once retorted on them by a body of auxiliaries 
 in the Roman camp, who heard their own cry and 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 143 
 
 name. After a furious engagement, the Romans 
 remained victors, the little river Are being choked 
 with the bodies of the barbarians. 
 
 Those who retreated to their camp were pursued by 
 the Romans. There the women, with loud cries, 
 armed themselves, and made a desperate resistance, 
 catching at the swords with their naked hands, and 
 suffering themselves to be hacked to pieces. 
 
 The night was spent by the Romans in some 
 alarm, for though they had defeated their foes and 
 penetrated to their camp, yet they had not time to 
 fortify their own position ; and they dreaded lest 
 the Ambrons should make head during the night, 
 call the Teutons to their assistance, and charge up 
 the hill. " A cry was heard from the defeated 
 Ambrons all through the night, not like the sighs 
 and groans of men, but like the howling and bellowing 
 of wild beasts." 
 
 Two days after this a second and decisive battle 
 ensued. The narrative in Plutarch is a little confused, 
 and it is only by familiarity with the sites that the whole 
 story becomes unfolded clearly before us. Thus, it is 
 only on the spot that one sees how it was that Marius, 
 striking from the chain of the Alpines, came up over 
 against the Ambrons on the hill above Les Milles, and 
 how he pursued his course thence. Plutarch, though 
 he speaks of the two battles, does not distinguish the 
 sites effectually. 
 
 The Teutons, as already said, were making their 
 way east from Aix. The road ran through the broad 
 basin of the Are ; to the north rise, precipitously, 
 
144 
 
 IN TR O UBAD O UR-IA ND. 
 
 the bald white precipices of the limestone Mont 
 Victoire, to the height of 3,000 feet, with not a 
 ledge on the sides where a shrub can find root. 
 Between these cliffs and the plain are, however, 
 two low sandstone ridges, the higher of which forms 
 an arc, and dives into the wall of Mont Victoire, about 
 half way through the plain. On the southern side of 
 the river are low hills ; at the extreme north-east is a 
 conical green hill named Pain de Munition, which is 
 fortified much like the Hereford Beacon, with walls in 
 
 Mont Victoire and the Plain of Pourrieres. 
 
 concentric rings. To the south-east is the chain of 
 Mont Aurelien, and there, on the Mont Olympe, is 
 another fortified position, beneath which is the town 
 of Trets, an ancient Roman settlement. 
 
 Now the barbarians followed the road on the north 
 side of the river Are, to the Roman station on it 
 named Tegulata, the first station out of Aix, their 
 numbers swelled by the discomfited Ambrons. Marius, 
 however, being at Les Milles, crossed the river, and 
 kept to the south side of it till he reached Trets. 
 Then he had a fortified position in his rear, the camp 
 of Mont Olympe ; moreover, the barbarians were 
 encamped on three tofts of red sandstone on the 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 145 
 
 north side of the river, at the station Tegulata, with, 
 at their back, the Roman fortified position of Pants 
 Annona, now called Pain de Munition, where one 
 may conjecture Marius had his stores and reserves. 
 They were probably unaware of the trap into which 
 they had walked. Marius, however, had despatched 
 on the day before Claudius Marcellus, with three 
 thousand men, up the long valley of the Infernet, to 
 the north side of Mont Victoire, so as to reach and 
 strengthen the fortress of Panis Annonae, and secure 
 his stores, and next day to descend the height and 
 fall on the rear of the enemy. 
 
 The slopes along which Marius marched were 
 probably well-wooded, and he was unobserved by the 
 Teutons. 
 
 They had spent one whole day in pacing along 
 the straight flat Roman road under Mont Victoire. 
 As they approached the station Tegulata, a singular 
 blood-red splash on the white sides of Mont Victoire 
 emerged from behind the lower wooded sandstone 
 road, a signal of warning to them that they were 
 approaching a place of peril. Moreover, the sandstone 
 deepened in colour, till at Tegulata the little streams 
 that oozed from under the sandstone ran like blood 
 about their feet. Of these they could not drink, 
 therefore they halted at Tegulata, where they again 
 reached the river, and where there was a bridge ; they 
 there encamped on the three tofts already mentioned, 
 the surfaces of which are of hard, dry, yellow sandstone, 
 superposed on beds of friable red sand. Here the 
 river flowed sparkling and clear, and supplied them 
 with what water they required. Everything points to 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 this spot as their camp. It is one day's march from 
 Aix. It is the first point at which drinkable water 
 is reached. The sandstone tofts stand up above the 
 plain, then undrained and marshy, as a dry base for 
 their tents. Finally, the monument of Marius is 
 opposite them, on the farther side of the river. 
 
 In the meantime the Romans had approached from 
 the south, from Trets, making a slight detour, follow- 
 ing the tactics of Marius as before, to keep to the 
 south of the horde, and with now a river between 
 
 '''■'"Ml,, WfGty^^&nf.) 
 
 Sketch Plan of the Battle Fields. 
 
 him and them. At Trets the ground inclines from 
 south to north, with a broken edge of sandstone — 
 invisible from the river, serving as a screen behind 
 which troops could be massed unperceived. Here it 
 was, I suspect, that Marius passed that spring night, 
 the second after the defeat of the Ambrons. The 
 broken edge of sandstone is not eighteen feet high. 
 From the top the ground slopes down for a mile, and 
 then ensues a gully cut in the sandstone by a small 
 blood-red confluent of the Are. Another mile, or 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 147 
 
 mile and a half beyond, is the river, and close to 
 the river, on the farther bank, was the camp of the 
 Teutons. 
 
 On the morning of the 23rd March* the Roman 
 cavalry were discovered by the Teutons drawn up on 
 the slope. 
 
 " On seeing this, unable to contain themselves," 
 says Plutarch, " nor stay till the Romans were come 
 down into the plain, they armed themselves hastily 
 and advanced up the hill. Marius sent officers 
 throughout the army, with orders that they should 
 await the onslaught of the enemy. When the 
 barbarians were within reach, the Romans were to 
 hurl their javelins, then draw their swords, and 
 advance, pressing the enemy back by their shields. 
 For the place was so slippery that the enemy's blows 
 could have little weight, nor could they preserve close 
 order, where the declivity of the ground made them 
 lose their balance." One can see exactly where this 
 took place, it was where the confluent of the Are 
 formed a natural protection to the position of the 
 Romans ; the hollow cut in the greasy red marl was 
 too insignificant to prevent the Teutons from attempt- 
 ing to pass it, but was sufficient to break their order, 
 and to give the Romans the first advantage over them. 
 
 Having driven back the assailants, the Romans 
 now crossed the natural moat and bore down on the 
 Teutons. At the same moment the well-designed 
 manoeuvre of Marius, in despatching Marcellus to the 
 fort on Panis Annonae, produced its result. Marcellus 
 had descended the hill, screened by the trees, and had 
 * My reason for fixing the day I shall give in the sequel. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 suddenly fallen on the rear of the camp of the 
 Teutons. 
 
 Thus attacked, both in front and in the rear, the 
 barbarians were seized with panic. A frightful carnage 
 ensued. No quarter was given. Women and children 
 were mown down ; the dogs furiously defending their 
 masters' bodies were also slaughtered. 
 
 " After the battle, Marius selected from among the 
 arms and other spoils such as were elegant and entire, 
 and likely to make the most brilliant show in his 
 triumph. The rest he piled together, and offered 
 
 Trt+s 
 
 Monumin* °\ M 
 
 them as a splendid sacrifice to the gods. The army 
 stood around the hill crowned with laurel ; and he 
 himself, arrayed in a purple robe, girt after the manner 
 of the Romans, held a lighted torch. He had just 
 raised it with both hands towards heaven, and was 
 about to set fire to the pyre, when some men were 
 seen approaching at a gallop. Great silence and 
 expectation followed. On their coming up, they 
 leaped from their horses and saluted him with the 
 title of Consul for the fifth time, and presented letters 
 to the same purport. This added joy to the solemnity, 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MARIUS. 149 
 
 which the soldiers expressed by acclamations and by 
 clanking of arms ; and, while the officers were 
 presenting Marius with new crowns of laurel, he set 
 fire to the pile, and finished the sacrifice." 
 
 According to some accounts the number of Teutons 
 slain numbered two hundred 
 thousand, and that of the 
 prisoners is stated to have 
 been eighty thousand. The 
 most moderate computation 
 of the slain is fixed at one 
 hundred thousand. In any 
 case the carnage was great, 
 for the battle-field, where all the 
 corpses rested without burial, 
 rotting in the sun and rain, got 
 the name of Campi Putridi, 
 the Fields of Putrefaction, a 
 name still traceable in that of 
 Pourrieres, the neighbouring 
 village. 
 
 On the site of the battle, on 
 
 the south bank of the river, 
 
 over against the camp of the 
 
 enemy, where also was the pyre 
 
 . . Venus Victrix. 
 
 in which the waggons, chariots, 
 
 arms and vesture of the invaders was consumed, a 
 monument to Marius was erected, which was tolerably 
 perfect before the French Revolution, but which now 
 presents a mass of ruins. It consists of a quad- 
 rangular block of masonry, measuring fifteen feet on 
 each side, within an enclosing wall fourteen feet 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 distant. This quadrangular block sustained a pyramid, 
 with statues at the angles, as it still figures upon the 
 arms of the Commune and on some Renaissance 
 tapestry in a neighbouring chateau. Here, three or 
 four years ago, was found a beautiful statue in Parian 
 marble of Venus Victrix, unfortunately without head 
 and arms, but quite of the best Greek workmanship. 
 The city of Avignon bought it of the proprietor of the 
 field for one thousand eight hundred francs, and it is 
 now one of the principal ornaments of the Avignon 
 Museum. The statue, to my mind, proves that this 
 monument was raised by Julius Caesar ; there is an in- 
 direct compliment to his own family in it. Venus was 
 the ancestress of the Julian race, and Caesar perhaps 
 insinuated, if he erected the statue, that the success 
 of Marius was due to the patronage of the divine 
 ancestress and protectress of the Julian race, and of 
 Julius Caesar's aunt, the wife of Marius, quite as much 
 as to the genius in war of Marius himself. 
 
 We know, moreover, that the trophies erected to 
 Marius for his Cimbric and Teutonic victories were 
 overthrown by Sulla, and that they were re-erected by 
 Julius Caesar in a.d. 65. 
 
 The anniversary of the battle was annually cele- 
 brated in a little temple dedicated to Venus Victrix on 
 the apex of Mont Victoire, that overhangs the plain. 
 
 When Provence became Christian the temple was 
 converted into a chapel, Venus Victrix became trans- 
 formed into S. Victoria ; and the procession remained 
 unaltered, the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages 
 ascended the mountain bearing boughs of box, which 
 they waved and shouted "Victoire! Victoire!" On 
 
THE CAMPAIGN OF MAR J US. 
 
 reaching the chapel, Mass was celebrated. This took 
 place annually on March 23rd till the Revolution, 
 when the chapel was suffered to fall into ruin. I was 
 on the battlefield on the day which is traditionally held 
 to have been that when this decisive battle took place. 
 A brilliant day. The frogs were croaking in the 
 marshes and dykes, the tones of some like the cawing 
 of young rooks. The ground was strewn with grape- 
 hyacinth, and white star of Bethlehem, the rocks were 
 covered with rosemary in pale grey bloom, the golden 
 chains of the broom waving over the blood-red sand- 
 stone rocks. 
 
 That the tradition is correct, or approximately so, I 
 think probable, for towards the end of March would 
 be the suitable time for the barbarians to set them- 
 selves in motion for the invasion of Italy. Sufficient 
 grass could be had for their horses and cattle, and 
 they would desire to reach the plains of Italy before 
 the great summer heats. 
 
 I talked a good deal to peasants working in the 
 fields. They were all of one mind as to where the 
 battle had raged — from north to south, they said, 
 between Trets and Pourrieres. The tradition is only 
 worth anything in that it is based on the fact that 
 along this line the greatest amount of weapons has 
 been turned up by the spade, and pick, and plough.* 
 A French writer, referred to in the footnote, says that 
 
 * M. Gilles, " Campagne de Marius dans la Gaule," Paris, 1870, 
 thinks that Marius pursued the Teutons along the Aurelian road, and 
 that the battle was fought on the north side of the river. I do not 
 hold this. The monument of Marius is on the south side, and I 
 think he would naturally secure a fortified camp in his rear. 
 
152 
 
 IN TROUBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 MARCH OF S. VICTOIRE (23rd March). 
 
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 if a little rill trickling into the Are be examined where 
 it flows in, opposite the monument of Marius, the 
 banks will be found at first to be full of broken Roman 
 pottery, but if the course of the stream be pursued a 
 little farther up it will be found to flow through beds 
 of charcoal and molten masses of metal — clearly the 
 site of the pyre raised by Marius. I accordingly 
 searched the locality. I found the pottery, and picked 
 out fragments of Samian ware ; the bank is from 
 three to nine feet deep in them. Farther on, I came, 
 as M. Gilles said, to remains of charcoal and cinder. 
 I was perplexed. I followed the stream farther up, 
 and found that it crossed a road that was metalled for 
 half a mile with cinder, and that the cinder lay on the 
 road and on the road only. I instituted inquiries and 
 ascertained that this was all brought from a steam 
 mill a mile and a half off along this road. But though 
 these remains of charcoal and scoria are not ancient, 
 yet the little rill does ooze from the plateau on which 
 I believe Marius raised the pyre. It is exactly 
 opposite his monument, between his position and the 
 Panis Annonae, whence swept down Marcellus with his 
 cavalry. It was the site at once of the camp and of the 
 pyre. No remains could possibly be found on it of 
 camp or pyre, as the sandstone is in constant disin- 
 tegration, and the whole surface has been many times 
 washed bare and renewed during the nineteen hundred 
 and ninety-two years that have elapsed since the 
 battle. 
 
 The story how Marius, having destroyed the hordes 
 of Ambrons and Teutons, and secured Italy on the 
 west, returned to the Peninsula, and finding that the 
 
THE CA MPAIGN OF MA RIUS. 1 5 5 
 
 Cimbri were streaming down from the north-east, met 
 them near Vercellse, and there defeated and slaughtered 
 them also, I leave for other pens to describe. That 
 battle took place on July 30th. 
 
 I have given (ante, pp. 152, 153) what may interest 
 the musical reader, the traditional march performed 
 on the day of the battle of Pourrieres, when the 
 pilgrims ascended the mountain to return thanks for 
 the victory of Marius. 
 
'56 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 TRETS AND GARDANNE. 
 
 The fortifications of Trets — The streets — The church — Roman 
 sarcophagus — Chateau of Trets — Visit to a self-educated archae- 
 ologist — His collec- 
 tion made on the 
 battle-field — Dis- 
 pute over a pot of 
 burnt bones — One 
 magpie — Gardanne 
 — The church— A 
 vielle — Trouble 
 with it — Story of an 
 executioner's sword. 
 
 is an odd little 
 place, sur- 
 rounded by its 
 ancient walls 
 and towers, and with its gates — but, oh ! if anyone 
 would know what a cramped, unwholesome place one 
 of these old mediaeval burghs was, let him visit Trets. 
 The streets are some four and some five feet across ; 
 in threading them you pass under a succession of arch- 
 ways, for every house desiring more space has thrust 
 forth a couple of storeys over the street, sustained by 
 an arch. The exhalations from the dirt-heaps, the 
 foulness of every house, the general condition of 
 tumble-down, compose a something to make a sanitary 
 
TRETS AND GARDANNE. 157 
 
 officer's hair stand on end. But it is very wonderful. 
 Carcassonne is marvellous, but this is Carcassonne seen 
 through a diminishing glass. 
 
 Trets has an ancient church, but that has a tower 
 in ruins, and it is a marvel to the visitor how that the 
 rain does not enter and souse the interior and congre- 
 gation, so dilapidated is the whole structure. In the 
 basement of the tower is a white marble sculptured 
 Roman sarcophagus ; on it are the heads of husband 
 and wife, supported by genii. Within the church is a 
 slab bearing record of the consecration, a.d. 105 i. 
 
 The town has a stately chateau, now abandoned to 
 the poor and cut up into small habitations. There is 
 in it a grand stone staircase with ornamental plaster 
 ceilings on the several landings ; one represents a 
 boar hunt, the other an ostrich chase. 
 
 In the chateau lives a miner, a M. Maneil, who is 
 an enthusiastic archaeologist. The publican of the 
 little inn at Trets told me of him : of how, when his 
 work is over, and other labouring men come to the 
 cabaret or the cafe, he spends his time in prowling over 
 the battle-field of Pourrieres, searching for antiquities, 
 and how he hoards up his little savings to buy books 
 that deal with archaeological subjects. 
 
 It was to see M. Maneil that I visited the chateau. 
 He has a rich collection of objects. I counted twenty- 
 four stone hatchets, and something like three hundred 
 beads strung for necklaces, flint arrow-heads in large 
 numbers, also many bronze implements, a quern, pierced 
 shells, several sculptured stones found in Dolmens, 
 and a great many Roman coins. It is the collection 
 of a life, made by an enthusiast, and ought to be 
 
i 5 S IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 acquired by the museum of Aix. In the mairie at 
 Trets is an urn full of calcined bones, in very good 
 condition. It was found by two boys some little while 
 ago in a tumulus on the side of the road to Puyloubier. 
 The farmer whose land it was on, hearing of the 
 discovery, and concluding that something precious had 
 been found, brought an action against the youthful 
 archaeologists, and strove to recover the treasure. 
 After a hard-fought battle he obtained his rights. 
 They were forced to surrender their acquisition — a 
 crock — and, to the disgust of the farmer, it contained 
 not a coin of any sort, only bones. So he has left it 
 in the mairie, in the hopes that some one will be 
 
 induced to buy it, and 
 so contribute a trifle 
 towards the heavy ex- 
 penses of the trial. 
 Now, as I waswalkinq- 
 
 Gardanne. ' f 5 
 
 from the field of Pour- 
 rieres to Trets, one solitary magpie appeared on my 
 left, flew a little way, lighted, and flew on farther, and 
 accompanied me thus for half the journey. " One 
 is for sorrow." My mind immediately recurred to 
 home — to wife and children. What had or would 
 happen ? Influenza — would that decimate the flock ? 
 or a fire — would that consume my books and pic- 
 tures ? Nothing happens but the unexpected. Never 
 for one moment did I obtain a glimpse, no, not half 
 a glimpse, into the trouble in store for me, which was 
 to arise, not from the loss of anything, but out of an 
 acquisition. 
 
 From Trets I went on by train to Gardanne, 
 
TRETS AND GARDANNE. 159 
 
 watching the evening lights die upon the silver-grey 
 precipices of Mont Victoire. At Gardanne I had to 
 change, and kick my heels for two hours. Gardanne 
 is a picturesque little town, built on a hill round a 
 castle in ruins and a church very much restored. So 
 restored did the church seem to be from the bottom of 
 the hill that I doubted whether it would be worth a 
 visit. Gardanne is surrounded by broad boulevards 
 planted with trees. Now, no sooner has one passed 
 inward, from this boulevard, than one finds a condition 
 of affairs only a little less dreadful than that at Trets. 
 
 Gardanne was a walled town, but all the walls have 
 been transformed into the faces of houses, inns and 
 cafes, plastered and painted and so disguised as not 
 to reveal their origin till one passes behind them. 
 Then one is involved in a labyrinth of narrow, dark 
 lanes scrambling up the hill, running in and out 
 among the houses, paved with cobble stones in some 
 places, in others resolving themselves into flights of 
 broken steps. 
 
 On scrambling to the terrace on which the church 
 stands on the apex of the hill, I saw that it was of 
 
 very remarkable width, all under one low gable 
 
 certainly extraordinarily ugly, and newly plastered, 
 marked out in sham blocks of stone, and made as 
 hideous as the ingenuity of man could well achieve. 
 However, I entered the west door, and passed into 
 almost complete darkness, only relieved by the 
 paschal candle that was burning at a side altar and 
 the red lamp in the choir. 
 
 As my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, I 
 discovered to my surprise that I had entered a very 
 
1 60 IN TRO UBAD UR-LA ND. 
 
 interesting eleventh-century church, of five aisles, all 
 under one roof, without clerestory. But the evening 
 lio-ht through the small stained windows did not suffer 
 me to make out any details. The east end of the 
 church rises from the crag on which it is built, with- 
 out any window in it. 
 
 On leaving the top of the hill and descending into 
 the town I met my fate in the form of a woman who 
 was playing a hurdy-gurdy, and singing to its strains 
 a Provencal ballad. I stopped at once, and asked her 
 to let me investigate the instrument. I have a fancy 
 for ancient musical instruments. A handle is turned 
 that grates on one catgut string, 
 and the fingers of the left hand, 
 passed under the hurdy-gurdy, touch 
 notes that stop the string at various 
 
 The Vielle. 
 
 lengths, and so vary the tone. 
 She told me the instrument was called the vielle, 
 in fact — our old English viol ; a very ancient instru- 
 ment, which is represented as being played by one 
 of the minstrels sculptured on the east front of 
 Launceston Parish Church, circ. 1525. On a capital 
 at S. Georges de Boscherville, in Normandy, is an 
 eleventh-century representation of a huge hurdy-gurdy 
 resting on the knees of two performers. One turns 
 the handle, the other plays on the keys. Mr. Chappell 
 at one time believed it was the old English Rote, 
 from rota, a wheel, but changed his mind later, and 
 showed that the rote had a hole through it, which 
 enabled it to be played with both hands like a lyre or 
 harp, and derived its name from the Anglo-Saxon 
 "rott " — cheerful. 
 
TRETS AND G ARE) ANNE. 161 
 
 This branch of archaeology being one in which I 
 was particularly interested, nothing would suffice me 
 but buying the viol of the woman ; and having 
 acquired it, I slung it round my neck by a very 
 dirty blue ribbon, and hastened to the station to 
 catch my train to Aix. 
 
 Now only did I discover what the magpie por- 
 tended, for with the acquisition of that hurdy-gurdy 
 my life became a burden to me. I could not pack it 
 into my Gladstone bag. I could not fold it up with 
 my rugs. I was forced to travel with it slung round 
 my neck. Naturally, in a railway carriage I was 
 asked to perform on the singular instrument — but I 
 was incapable of doing this. Fellow travellers 
 disbelieved in my statement. Why did I wander 
 through Provence, the land of troubadours, if I were 
 no troubadour ? Surely I was sulky — not incapable ; 
 unwilling to oblige — not unable to do so. When I 
 arrived at an hotel — especially late in the evening — 
 I found the host doubtful about receiving me. He 
 looked at my bag, then at my hurdy-gurdy, then 
 scrutinised my boots ; wanted to know what priced 
 rooms I required ; must consult madam. On the 
 railway platform again, I found myself an object of 
 attention to certain men in plain clothes, with keen 
 searching eyes — and, as I shall relate in the sequel, 
 brought one of them down on me. 
 
 Vexed that I was unable to pass the tedious time in 
 the train with a tune on my vielle, and entertain my 
 fellow travellers, I began to practise on it in my room 
 at night. Then the fellow inmates complained : they 
 sent their compliments and desired to know whether 
 
 M 
 
i6z IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 there were wild beasts next door — they objected to 
 be lodged near a menagerie. 
 
 My experiences with the hurdy-gurdy recall to my 
 memory some others I went through a few years 
 ago. 
 
 On one occasion I spent a winter in a city in the 
 south of Germany, where I made the acquaintance 
 of an antiquary who was very old and bedridden, 
 and had no relations, no one to care for him but 
 an old housekeeper. The man had belonged to the 
 town-council, and had spent his life in collecting 
 curiosities connected with the history of his town. 
 Among his treasures above his bed, was the city 
 executioner's sword, much notched. This sword was 
 six feet long, with a huge handle, to be grasped with 
 two hands, and with an iron ornamented knob as 
 counterpoise at the end of the handle. 
 
 How life is made up of lost opportunities ! How 
 much of the criminal history of the city might I not 
 have learned, if I had paid longer visits to Herr 
 Schreiber, and listened to his account of the notches 
 in the blade, to each of which a ghastly history 
 attached. But the antiquary's bedroom measured 
 fifteen feet by seven, and the window was hermetically 
 sealed ; moreover, there was a stove in the room, and 
 — Herr Schreiber himself, always. 
 
 *' Ach, mein Herr! do you see dis great piece 
 broken out of de blade ? Dat vas caused by a 
 voman's neck. De executioner could not cut it 
 drough ; her neck vas harder dan his sword. She 
 vas a very vicked voman ; she poisoned her fader. — 
 Do you see dis littel nick ? Dis vas made by a great 
 
TRETS AND GARDANNE. 163 
 
 trater to the Kaiser and Vaterland. I vill tell you all 
 about it." 
 
 I never heard all the stories : I should have been 
 suffocated had I stayed to listen ; but I found, when- 
 ever I called on my friend, that my eyes invariably 
 turned to the sword — it was so huge, it was so 
 notched, and had such a gruesome history. Poor 
 old Schreiber, I knew, would have to bow his neck 
 before long under the scythe of Time. How he 
 hung on in that stuffy room under the great sword so 
 long was a marvel to me, and would be pronounced 
 impossible by sanitary authorities in England. Never- 
 theless, he did live on for a twelvemonth after I left 
 the town. When about to depart, I said to the 
 English chaplain: "Old Schreiber can't last long ; 
 he must smother shortly. Keep an eye on the sword 
 for me, there's a good fellow. He has left everything 
 to the housekeeper." 
 
 A twelvemonth after, as I was about to leave 
 England for a run into Bohemia, I got a letter from 
 the chaplain : "Schreiber is dead. I have the sword." 
 I wired at once to him : " Send it me to my inn at 
 Aix-la-Chapelle. Will pick it up on my way home." 
 
 So I went on my way rejoicing, ascended the Rhine 
 to Mainz, trained to Nuremberg, and passed through 
 the gap of the Bohemian mountain-chain to Pilsen, 
 and on to Prague. After six weeks in Bohemia and 
 Silesia, I descended the Rhine to Aix-la-Chapelle, and 
 arrived at my inn. 
 
 " Dere is vun vunderful chest come for you," said 
 the landlord. " Ve vas not very comfortable to take 
 him in. Ve keep him, dough." 
 
 m 2 
 
1 64 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 And no wonder. The chest was shaped somewhat 
 like the coffin of a very tall man. 
 
 "Vat ish he? He have been here four veek and 
 doe days. — Dere is no schmell." 
 
 " I cannot take that thing — I really cannot. It is 
 preposterous. How could the chaplain have put my 
 sword into the hands of an undertaker? — Get me a 
 hammer ; I will knock the case to pieces." 
 
 Now, there was a reason why the chest should 
 assume the shape of a coffin — that was, because of 
 the crosspiece between the handle and the blade. My 
 name and address were on the lid, at the place where 
 usually goes the so-called "breast-plate." 
 
 The host of my inn, the waiters, the porter, the 
 boots, all stood in breathless curiosity to see the box 
 opened, and when the sword was exposed — " Ach ! " 
 exclaimed the host gravely, " I vas right — dere vas no 
 schmell, because dere could be no schmell." 
 
 I could not see the force of this reasoning, 
 remembering Herr Schreiber's room, and how long 
 the sword had been in it ; and allowing that there 
 is no porosity in tempered steel, still, the black velvet 
 casing of the handle might have absorbed a con- 
 siderable amount of Schreiberian bacteria, bacilli, 
 or whatever it is that physiologists assert to be so 
 nasty and so ubiquitous, and so set on finding out 
 our weak places and hitting us there, as swordfish 
 "go" at whales. 
 
 I had got my sword out of its coffin, but had not 
 considered what to do with it next, and I found my- 
 self in as great a difficulty as before. I got a porter 
 to convey it for me to the station, and he placed it in 
 
TRETS AND GARB ANNE. 165 
 
 the first-class waiting-room with the iron counterpoise 
 on the floor, beside a divan, and leaned the tip of the 
 blade against the wall. There it was allowed to 
 remain ; and I walked about, pretending that it did 
 not belong to me. Presently, a well-dressed, very 
 stately lady — she was a Gr'dfin (countess) — came in, 
 stalked to the divan, and seated herself on it, very 
 upright, without observing the sword. She opened 
 a reticule and produced a lace-edged handkerchief, 
 with which she proceeded to dust the velvet of her 
 dress, and in so doing, with the end of her delicately- 
 shod foot, touched the counterpoise. At once the 
 sword-blade began to grate against the wall. She 
 looked up suddenly, saw the huge notched exe- 
 cutioner's sword descending upon her bowed neck, 
 uttered a little scream, sprang to her feet and ran, 
 fleet as a rabbit, across the waiting-room ; whilst down 
 its full length after her with a clang fell the weapon — 
 followed by a burst of laughter from everyone in the 
 room but the countess. 
 
 After this, I took the sword up and marched on the 
 platform with it at my side. This I will say for it — 
 that, considering its size and weight, it is easily 
 carried ; for not only is there the crosspiece as hand- 
 guard, but above this is a crescent worked in the iron, 
 the horns extending with the convexity towards the 
 point of the blade. By putting a couple of fingers 
 under these horns, the sword is carried at the side, 
 pommel downwards, blade up, with perfect ease, the 
 balance is so true. Some difficulty attended the 
 getting into the carriage with the sword ; I had to 
 enter backwards and bring my sword in after me, 
 
1 66 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 passengers keeping judiciously out of its reach till 
 it was safely brought within. 
 
 Not the Douvres-Calais that day ! only that horrible 
 little narrow boat that always upsets me — and I — such 
 an heroic being, bearing the mighty mediaeval sword, 
 an object of wonder and questioning to sailors, 
 dotianiers, passengers alike. As it happened, I was 
 the sole individual on board whose inner organs had 
 not their sea-legs on this occasion. I lay on a bench 
 upon deck, hugging my executioners sword, and 
 faintly calling : "A basin please!" Two ruffians — I 
 can call them nothing else — paced the deck, smoking, 
 and passed me every forty seconds. If there is a 
 thing which tumbles a human being of a highly-strung 
 nervous temperament over when he feels squeamish, 
 it is the occasional whiff of a cigar. Then, added 
 to the occasional whiff, were occasional catches of 
 derogatory remarks, which came home to me as 
 unpleasantly as did the tobacco: "A chap with a 
 sword like that should live up to it, and not grovel 
 over a basin." — And a quotation from the Burial of 
 Sir John Moore : " He lay like a warrior taking his 
 rest." 
 
 My spine, with the pitching and vibration of the 
 vessel, felt not like a spinal column, but like a loose 
 string of beads. If by swallowing the sword I could 
 have acquired stamina, I should have tried it ; but I 
 did not think I could keep it down. At length, with 
 a pasty face, blear-eyes, liver-coloured lips, a battered 
 hat, a dripping and torn waterproof, reeling, holding 
 my ticket in my teeth, the sword in one hand and my 
 portmanteau in the other, looking like a dynamitard 
 
TRETS AND GARB ANNE. 167 
 
 every inch, and at once pounced on and overhauled by 
 the police and customs-officers, I staggered ashore. 
 Having that sword was as much as proclaiming that 
 I had infernal machines about me somewhere, and 
 even my pockets were not sacred. Having turned 
 out all my insides at sea, I had to turn out my 
 exterior pockets and portmanteau now. It was 
 monstrous. That was not all. I am sure a detective 
 followed me to town. When I got into a hansom at 
 Charing Cross, the sword would go nowhere except 
 between my knees, with the blade shooting up between 
 the reins of the driver, high above the top of the 
 conveyance. I caused great amusement as I drove 
 through the streets of London thus. 
 
 The sword is at rest now, lodged on my staircase, 
 and of one thing I am sure : no one is likely to run 
 away with it. I have lost curiosities too tempting for 
 specialists to keep their fingers from ; but no one will 
 carry away my sword. I shall go, but the sword will 
 remain. 
 
1 68 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AIX. 
 
 Dooll, but the mutton good — Les Bains de Sextius — Ironwork caps 
 to towers — S. Jean de Mai the — Museum — Cathedral — Tapestries 
 and tombs — The cloisters — View from S. Eutrope— King Rene 
 of Anjou — His misfortunes — His cheeriness — His statue at Aix 
 ■ — Introduces the Muscat grape. 
 
 had a friend, a parson, a good fellow, who 
 was some years ago in Cumberland, where 
 he was concerned about the spiritual con- 
 dition of the neighbouring parsons. Among 
 these latter was one, very bucolic, with a 
 heavy red face. My friend urged him to 
 take advantage of a " retreat," that is a 
 gathering of clergy for devotion and medi- 
 tation, that was to take place in Carlisle. 
 After some persuasion the heavy-souled 
 ffl parson agreed to go, and my dear good 
 
 friend hoped that some spark of spiritual 
 zeal might be thus kindled in him. 
 
 When the retreat was at an end he button-holed 
 him, and asked, " Well, how did you get on ? " 
 
 "Dooll, varry dooll!" replied the heavy soul, "I 
 shud ha left long ago, but — the mutton was good." 
 
 I had gone for a couple of weeks to commercial 
 inns, and now that I visited Aix I thought I would 
 
AIX. 169 
 
 like to see another aspect of Gallic life, so I went to the 
 Hotel des Bain de Sextius, and took a plunge into the 
 society of patients drinking waters and taking baths. 
 I may say of that social phase in the Bain, that it was 
 "dooll, varry dooll, but the mutton was good." I was 
 a fool to go there ; of course one cannot expect people 
 with their livers and their spleens, and their entire 
 internal tubular mechanism out of order, to be chirpy 
 and frolicsome. There were a good many ladies there, 
 pale, I could not quite make out whether from ill-health 
 or from violet-powder ; but I think the latter had 
 something to do with their pallor, for, after drinking, 
 when they wiped their lips, roses began to bloom, 
 wherever the napkin touched. They lived up to their 
 appearance, natural or applied, they were "mild-eyed, 
 melancholy, lotus-eaters," to whom it was " always 
 afternoon." The gentlemen were equally sad, still and 
 forlorn. But the mutton was good. The feeding left 
 little to be wished for. 
 
 Aix lies in a green basin of hills, at a little distance 
 from the river Are, clustered about the hot springs that 
 rise at the junction of the porphyry and the limestone. 
 They were certainly hotter when Aix was founded by 
 Caius Sextius Calvinus, r>.c. 123, to serve as a protec- 
 tion to the Greeks of Marseilles against the attacks 
 of the Salyes. Roman colonists were planted there, 
 consequently in race distinct from the Massalliotes. I 
 cannot say that the Greek type lingers in Marseilles, 
 certainly the women who hover about the Vieux port 
 are as ugly as women can well be, nor have the natives 
 of Aix a peculiarly Roman character of face and head. 
 The only people who retain any distinguishing features 
 
170 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 of their ancestry are those of Aries, of whom I have 
 already told. 
 
 Aix has lost its old walls and towers within the last 
 twenty years. It has good boulevards and shaded 
 walks, and in the old parts of the town many charming 
 bits. Most charming perhaps are the iron crowns to 
 two of the towers, one by the Hotel de Ville, which is 
 conical, the other opposite the church of La Sainte 
 Esprit, which is like a papal tiara. When I saw in 
 Baedeker that "en face de cette eglise — une tour de 
 1494, qui a un beau campanile en fer," my mind turned 
 at once to that horrible iron spire at Rouen, and I felt 
 disposed to look at the pavement when approaching 
 the church. However, it is not modern, and not 
 hideous ; it is quite the reverse, a study in fine iron- 
 work. That the ancients could, however, do very 
 villainous things, may be seen on a visit paid to the 
 church of S. Jean de Malthe. It has a square east end, 
 is an edifice of the thirteenth century, with a tower of 
 the fourteenth and fifteenth. The original architect in 
 the thirteenth century was a fool, and those who desired 
 to complete the church a century later probably 
 advertised for the greatest fool then in the profession, 
 and secured him. Within the church is a monument 
 that pretends to be the tomb of Alphonso II., Count of 
 Provence, in 1 209, and to be adorned not only with his 
 statue, but also with those of his son Raymond Beren- 
 garius IV., and of Beatrix, Queen of Naples, the wife 
 of the latter. The monument is, however, a hoax. The 
 statues are there, but are modern, of the namby-pamby 
 school, and of the original tomb possibly a crocket and 
 a cusp may remain. 
 
A IX. 171 
 
 Hard by this odious church, with its horrible modern 
 garish windows, is the museum, containing some 
 Greek inscriptions, a Christian sarcophagus or two, not 
 grown on the spot, but imported from Aries, and some 
 fragments of statues. 
 
 The Cathedral of S. Sauveur is the great attraction 
 in Aix, and it is, indeed, a very fascinating church. 
 The west front contains a recessed gateway with ranges 
 of saints in the outer member, and a legion of cherubim 
 with their wings, some spread, some folded, in the inner 
 member. The lower portion of the doorway was 
 encased by a hoarding, and I could not see it. It is 
 undergoing restoration. The saints' figures thereon 
 had their heads knocked off at the Revolution, and 
 these were restored in bad taste later, and now fresh 
 heads — we will hope more successful — are being 
 adjusted. 
 
 Oh that we also could change our heads ! 
 
 The octagonal tower, which formerly had a some- 
 what bold appearance, has been successfully completed 
 with an open traceried parapet and pinnacles. 
 
 On the right hand of the church is a very interesting 
 doorway, clearly Classic. Two fluted Corinthian 
 pillars are let into the wall, and support an entablature. 
 Between these a Romanesque doorway has been 
 inserted, with a twisted pillar on one side, and another 
 fluted, opposite it. 
 
 The interior of the cathedral is full of surprises, 
 The baptistery on the right is supported on Classic 
 columns of grey polished granite. The S. aisle of the 
 church is Romanesque of the twelfth century, and was 
 the orieinal nave of the minster. In the fourteenth or 
 
1 7 2 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 fifteenth century the present nave and N. aisle were 
 added, and then the S. aisle of the Romanesque church 
 was destroyed. Consequently the cloister of the twelfth 
 century, which originally abutted on the S. wall of the 
 church, now stands detached from it by the width of 
 the destroyed aisle. 
 
 In some chapels is soft old glowing marigold-yellow 
 cinque-cento glass. The choir of the cathedral is hung 
 with tapestries, said to be by Ouentin Matsys, gorgeous 
 in colour, of, however, beauteous harmony of tone. 
 There are quaint old paintings on gold grounds in the 
 nave. In the N. aisle lovely tombs that served as 
 memorials of the dead, and likewise as altar-pieces.* 
 
 The church is rich in picturesque features, not to be 
 sketched with pencil, but laid in with the brush and 
 colour. 
 
 Moreover, the cloister is charming in its rich quaint- 
 ness. The sculptors have revelled in the foliage with 
 which they have adorned the capitals. Here we have 
 twisted pillars, there they are sculptured over with 
 scales, lozenges, and other ornamental fancies. In the 
 capitals, groups of figures alternate with bursting fronds 
 of ferns, unfolding vine leaves, and fantastic playing 
 monsters. In the centre of the quadrangle stands an 
 old column, on which is S. Mary Magdalen with her 
 ointment-pot, and doves were fluttering and cooing as 
 an old canon scattered crumbs to them about his feet. 
 
 Aix lacks one thing greatly, a terrace above the town 
 
 * Christ on the cross is between kneeling figures of a knight and a 
 lady ; S. Anne and the B. V. Mary are also represented. This 
 reredos is so excellent, so beautiful, that of course it did not suit the 
 taste for tawdriness that sprang up in the eighteenth century, and a 
 vulgar reredos has been erected, and the altar moved before that. 
 
AIX. 
 
 73 
 
 whence the valley may be seen, the towers of Aix, and 
 the crags of Mont Victoire. But a walk should on no 
 account be omitted up the heights of S. Eutrope to an 
 old windmill that stands on a crest of limestone. 
 
 The view thence is charming. To the right the 
 green valley of L' Infernet, up which marched Marcellus 
 on the eve of the great battle of Pourrieres. Towering 
 overhead, catching the evening sun on its glistening 
 
 o o o o 
 
 bald peaks is to be seen Mont Victoire. A little to 
 the S. E. the cleft in the wooded hills through which 
 the Are breaks its way, a cleft up which the Teutons 
 trudged with their wives and children and the spoil of 
 Gaul, to their destruction. To the south-east also a 
 quaint chain of hills that rise above Gardanne, with a 
 boss like a great snuff-box on the top, the Pillon du 
 Roi. At one's feet is Aix, with its many towers, 
 surrounded by silvery olive orchards, and away to the 
 south is the red hill above Les Milles where Marius 
 was encamped the night after the fight with the 
 Ambrons. 
 
 Aix is closely associated with that delightful old 
 Mark Tapley of kings, Rene of Anjou, whose character 
 has been hit off with such masterly fidelity by Sir 
 Walter Scott in " Anne of Geierstein." Rene was born 
 at Angers in 1409, and was the second son of Duke 
 Louis II., of the junior house of Anjou, and of Iolanthe, 
 daughter of king John of Aragon. He bore the title 
 of Duke of Guise till his father's death. Louis II. had 
 been adopted by Joanna of Naples, as her heir, and 
 had been crowned king of Naples at Avignon by 
 Clement VII., but was never able to obtain possession 
 of his inheritance. After his death, in 141 7, Rene's 
 
174 TN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 eldest brother, Louis III., succeeded to his titles and 
 rights, and when he died without issue, in 1434, Anjou, 
 Provence, and claims to Naples, Sicily and Jerusalem 
 devolved on Rene, who had in the meantime acquired, 
 by the death of an uncle, the Duchy of Bar, and, by 
 right of his wife, laid claim to the Duchy of Lorraine. 
 
 When he desired to make these latter claims good, 
 he was involved in war with his wife's kinsmen, and was 
 taken prisoner and locked up at Dijon. Finally, the 
 question of the right to the Duchy of Lorraine was 
 referred to the decision of the Emperor Sigismund, who 
 gave it in favour of Rene. His opponent, however, ap- 
 pealed to Philip of Burgundy, who summoned Rene to 
 appear before him, and when he did not appear, ordered 
 him to return to his prison, from which he had been 
 released on parole. Rene at once submitted. Whilst 
 he was in prison at Dijon, delegates from Naples arrived 
 offering him the crown ; but Duke Philip would not 
 release him. Thereupon Rene transferred his rights 
 provisionally to his wife, the Duchess Isabella, and she 
 became regent of Naples, Sicily, Anjou, and Provence. 
 She, however, soon found herself involved in war with 
 the king of Aragon. In the meantime Rene managed 
 to ransom himself for the sum of 400,000 gold florins 
 (1437) and at once hasted to Naples. There, 
 however, he found himself unable to make head 
 against Alphonso of Aragon, and he was finally driven 
 out, and obliged to return to Provence. He died at 
 Aix on July 10, 1480. 
 
 Sir Walter well says of him : " Born of royal 
 parentage, and with high pretensions, Rene had at no 
 period of his life been able to match his fortunes to his 
 
MX. ITS 
 
 claims. Of the kingdoms to which he asserted right, 
 nothing remained in his possession but the county of 
 Provence, itself a fair and friendly principality, but 
 diminished by the many claims which France had 
 acquired upon portions of it by advances of money to 
 supply the personal expenses of its master, and by other 
 portions, which Burgundy, to whom Rene had been a 
 prisoner, held in pledge for his ransom. . . . Rene 
 was a prince of very moderate parts, endowed with a 
 love of the fine arts, which he carried to extremity, 
 and with a degree of good humour, which never 
 permitted him to repine at fortune, but rendered its 
 possessor happy, when a prince of keener feelings 
 would have died of despair. This insouciant, light- 
 tempered, gay and thoughtless disposition conducted 
 Rene, free from all the passions which embitter life, to 
 a hale and mirthful old age. Even domestic losses 
 made no deep impression on the feelings of this 
 cheerful old monarch. Most of his children had died 
 young ; Rene took it not to heart. His daughter 
 Margaret's marriage with the powerful Henry of 
 England was considered a connection above the 
 fortunes of the king of Troubadours. But in the 
 issue, instead of Rene deriving any splendour from 
 the match, he was involved in the misfortunes of his 
 daughter, and repeatedly obliged to impoverish himself 
 to supply her ransom. . . . Among all his distresses, 
 Rene feasted and received guests, danced, sang, 
 composed poetry, used the pencil or brush with no 
 small skill, devised and conducted festivals and pro- 
 cessions, and studied to promote the mirth and good 
 humour of his subjects." 
 
176 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 In the cathedral is his portrait along with that of 
 his second wife, Jeanne de Laval. In the place is his 
 statue, a mediocre work, holding a bunch of Muscat 
 grapes, a species he first introduced to Europe. I 
 sought in vain at Aix for a photograph of the Merry 
 Monarch taken from the authentic picture, and was 
 offered one from the characterless statue, which I 
 declined. Poor king Renes poems have found an 
 editor and a publisher — in four volumes (Paris, 1845-6, 
 edited by Ouatrebarbes), but, I fear, not many readers. 
 No ; it will not be through his laboured poetic com- 
 positions, nor through the daubs which he painted, 
 that Rene will be known and will have earned the 
 gratitude of posterity, but through the introduction 
 of the Muscat grape. Henceforth, let my readers, 
 whenever they enjoy their muscatels out of the grape- 
 house at home, or sip Moscada Toscana in Italy, or 
 Muscat in La Vallais, give a kindly thought to that 
 much-tried but never downcast monarch. 
 
( 177 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE CAMARGUE. 
 
 Formation of the delta of the Rhone— The diluvial wash— The 
 alluvium spread over this — The three stages the river pursues— 
 The zone of erosion — The zone of compensation — The zone of 
 deposit — River mouths — Estuaries and deltas — The formation of 
 bars — Of lagoons — The lagoons of the Gulf of Lyons — The 
 ancient position of Aries between the river and the lagoons — 
 Neglect of the lagoons in the Middle Ages — They become 
 morasses — Attempt at remedy — Embankments and drains — A 
 mistake made— The Camargue now a 
 desert — Les Saintes Maries — No evidence 
 to support the legend — Based on a mis- 
 apprehension. 
 
 I said when speaking of the 
 Crau, the whole delta of the 
 Rhone, which extended in the 
 diluvial epoch from Cette to 
 Fos, consists of a vast sloping 
 plain of rolled stones from the Alps. What is now 
 a great convexity thrust into the Mediterranean, per- 
 petually gaining ground on the sea, was at the com- 
 mencement of the present geologic epoch a great bay, 
 and the waves of the Mediterranean broke against the 
 cliffs of les Monts Garrigues, at Lodeve, the heights 
 of Nimes and Beaucaire, against the limestone crags 
 of the Alpines, and swirled against that calcareous 
 
 N 
 
178 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 spur that now separates the lagoon of Berre from the 
 desert of la Crau. 
 
 But, at an epoch which it is impossible to fix, which, 
 however, is posterior to the last geologic dislocations 
 of the soil, two formidable deluges swept from the 
 Alps down the troughs of the Rhone and the Durance, 
 carrying with them vast masses of stone torn from 
 the flanks of the mountains. They were veritable 
 avalanches of water, mud and rubble, that filled the 
 entire bay and covered the land, wherever they poured, 
 with the wreckage of the Alps. The stones were 
 broken into a thousand pieces in their course, their 
 angles rubbed down, and their surfaces polished by 
 friction, and this vast bed of rubble measures near 
 the mouth of the Rhone some sixty feet in depth, 
 and extends under the blue surface of the sea to the 
 distance of many miles. 
 
 But, when the diluvium ceased, and the rivers 
 Rhone and Durance assumed approximately their 
 present character, a change of procedure took place. 
 The volume of water rolled down was by no means so 
 great, the inclination of the fall was vastly lessened, 
 consequently the rivers were enabled to do what they 
 had not been able to do in the diluvial period, chew 
 up their food of stone, and reduce it to the condition of 
 mud. This is what the two rivers are engaged upon 
 now, and instead of strewing their embouchures with 
 pebbles, they distribute over them, or would do so, if 
 permitted, a film of fertilising mud. 
 
 Through many ages the Rhone has rambled at its 
 sweet will over the vast tract of rubble that formed 
 its delta in the diluvial age, changing its course 
 
THE CAM ARGUE. i 79 
 
 capriciously, and always, wherever it went, covering 
 up the pebble bed with a deposit of fertile soil. Other 
 streams helped in the good work— the Herault, rich 
 with red mud, the Ley, that flows past Montpellier, 
 and the Vidourle from Lunel : consequently a very 
 large portion of the rubble bed is covered with rich 
 soil, that grows vines, mulberries, and olives. The 
 plough and spade, however, speedily reach the boulders 
 that lie but slightly buried beneath the surface. The 
 canal of Craponne, that conveys the charged waters of 
 the Durance over the Crau of Aries, is effecting 
 artificially over that portion of the rubbly desert, the 
 work that was done by Nature herself in past ages over 
 the whole region from Cette to Aiguesmortes. 
 
 Now let us examine very shortly the stages through 
 which every mountain-born river runs. 
 
 When young, sprung from eternal snows, gushing 
 from under glaciers, it cuts its way through mountain 
 gorges, receiving the rocks that fall from above, and 
 carrying them along in its course, tearing its way round 
 rocky spurs, and breaking them in its fury, and, as it 
 travels down into the lower ground, it carries with it a 
 vast mass of stone. Every tributary does the same. 
 This first stage is called the zone of erosion. 
 
 But, as the river leaves the Alps, its course becomes 
 less rapid, and the fall is not so abrupt. The bed 
 widens, and what was a boiling torrent becomes a 
 rapid river. As it rolls along, it carries down with it 
 the stones that it has brought from the mountains, 
 turning them over and over in its course, rubbing 
 down all rough points, and becoming itself discoloured 
 with the particles it has rubbed off the pebbles. All 
 
 N 2 
 
180 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 this matter thus produced has a tendency to fall to the 
 bottom and form banks of gravel ; but the violence 
 of the stream is constantly altering the shape and 
 position of these beds, carrying the gravel farther, and 
 throwing down in their place half-triturated deposits of 
 the same character. 
 
 This is called the zone of compensation. 
 Any traveller who has visited the Vallais may see 
 the Rhone at work in its first stage. In the second 
 he can trace the river from below Lyons, and see 
 the thousand gravel-banks formed, swept away, and 
 reformed, at every flood, that mark the course of the 
 river in its second stage. 
 
 By the time the Rhone has reached Aries all its 
 gravel has been champed up and reduced to im- 
 palpable mud. That blue crystalline flood that 
 gushed from the Lake of Leman, unsullied by a 
 particle of earth, is now a river of brown mud — thick 
 as pea-soup, and as nutritious. The stones that 
 would have killed all vegetation have been pounded 
 into a condition so attenuated, that they form rich 
 alluvial matter. The river now seeks to deposit all 
 this mud. On reaching the sea, the difference in 
 gravity between the meeting waters, and their 
 variation in temperature, produces rapid precipitation 
 of all the earthy matter held in suspense by the 
 stream. This last stage in the river's course is called 
 the zone of deposit. 
 
 The inclination of the bed of the Rhone between 
 Tarascon and Aries is four feet three inches in the 
 mile ; but at Aries the elevation of the bank is but 
 three feet six inches above the level of the sea ; and 
 
THE CAM ARGUE. 
 
 the river has to run sixty-two miles before it reaches 
 salt waves. Consequently the bed widens, the river 
 branches, and the rapidity of its movement diminishes 
 progressively. The alluvium is deposited, banks 
 multiply, the mouths are encumbered with submarine 
 islets, locally called theys, which the waves and 
 currents of the sea displace and remodel continuously, 
 and render the entrance to the river impracticable.* 
 
 River mouths vary greatly ; they are either 
 estuaries, like those of the Thames, the Seine, and the 
 S. Lawrence, or they are deltas, like those of the Nile, 
 the Po, and the Rhone. Very generally in tidal seas 
 we have estuaries ; but in those that are tideless, as 
 the Mediterranean and the Black Sea, they are deltas. 
 Where there is a tide, the mouth of the river is washed 
 out and kept open by the flux and reflux of the sea ; 
 but where there is no tide there is nothing to interfere 
 with the river choking its mouth with its deposits. 
 In such a case, after a while, the mass of deposit 
 becomes so great as to interfere with the course of 
 the river. The sea beating against this bar throws 
 up sand and gravel upon it, and at every storm 
 raises it higher. Then the river divides into two 
 or more branches, and forms for itself new beds, 
 which are destined in turn to undergo the same 
 process. 
 
 Now, when a river has formed its bar choking its 
 mouth, and is then forced to make a fresh mouth, it 
 leaves a lagoon behind this bar. At every flood its 
 waters overflow, and are unable to escape to the 
 sea when left behind the bar. Sometimes, in like 
 * Lenth&ie : ' Les Villes Mortes du Golfe de Lyon,' Paris, 1883. 
 
;82 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 manner, in a gale of wind on shore, the waves are 
 carried over the bar, and there are left as a brackish 
 pool, unable to return to the sea. 
 
 Thus the whole of the Bay of the Gulf of Lyons is 
 masked by a false coastline of old bars, behind which lie 
 lagoons all formed in the way indicated. Between 
 Rousillon and Leucate is the Etang de Salses ; Nar- 
 bonne anciently was seated in the lap of another great 
 inland lake or lagoon. The vast Etang de Tau has a 
 barrier between it and the sea on which is planted Cette. 
 Lagoons behind bars extend thence the whole way to 
 Aiguesmortes ; and between the mouths of the Rhone, 
 as they flow at present, is the Etang de Valcares. 
 
 After the river has deserted its old bed, and the 
 lagoon has been formed behind the bar, or littoral 
 cord, wave and storm working upon this long line of 
 mud and sand succeed in breaking through ; then, as 
 the inclination of the land is but o m , 01 in the metre — 
 almost nothing, the sweet and salt water mingle in 
 these lakes, they never run dry, though in many cases 
 not three feet deep. 
 
 A look at the map of the Gulf of Lyons will show 
 the reader that its special characteristic is the chain of 
 lagoons separated from the sea by a narrow ribbon of 
 sand. It may have caused perplexity in the mind of 
 many that the Gulf should bear the name it does. It 
 cannot take its name from the city of Lyons — the 
 ancient Lugdunum — which is two hundred and twenty 
 miles inland. It certainly cannot derive it from the 
 wild beasts — lions — for there are none nearer than 
 Africa. 
 
 The fact is, that the Gulf takes its title from the 
 
THE CAMARGUE. 183 
 
 Keltic word for a lagoon, Ion or lyn, a name that 
 recurs in Maguelonne — the Dwelling on the Pool — in 
 the Canal des Lonnes, a channel connecting the ponds 
 and lagoons of the Durance and Rhone, and, indeed, 
 in our own London (Londinium) the Dinas, Castle on 
 the Lon, or pool of the Thames and the Essex 
 marshes. 
 
 Anciently, in historic times, Aries, that lies near the 
 apex of the triangle formed by the branches of the 
 Rhone, was bathed on one side by the river, by which 
 she received merchandise from the north ; and, on the 
 other side by the /ones, or submerged land, that 
 extended to the sea ; and after Marius had connected 
 these lones with his canal, she exported and imported 
 merchandise over the Mediterranean through the 
 lagoons, as the sea could not be reached by the river 
 on account of its bars. 
 
 Moreover, the Greek and Roman cities along 
 the coast are not found on the actual coast, on the 
 bars, but were planted on the lagoons, which afforded 
 them perfect harbourage for their merchant vessels. 
 These lagoons, through which flowed salt and fresh 
 water, were always healthy, and remained healthy as 
 long as communication was maintained with the sea 
 and the river. But wind and wave and alluvium 
 working together choke these communications, and 
 directly the mouth seawards of a lagoon is closed it is 
 converted into a stagnating marsh that exhales malaria. 
 During the Middle Ages no attention was paid to 
 this fact, and those stations which had been perfectly 
 wholesome in the Classic Epoch were rendered pestilen- 
 tial, and dwindled from populous cities to a cluster of 
 
1 84 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 fever-smitten peasants' hovels. In later times this 
 desperate condition of affairs called for remedy. Louis 
 XIV. sent engineers to examine and report on the state 
 of this region, and works were begun which have been 
 maintained and extended annually, the raising of dykes 
 against overflow by the Rhone and by the sea. Drains 
 have been cut in all directions to carry off the stagnant 
 water, opening by traps into the sea. The extent of dyke 
 now reaches two hundred and thirty miles. The banks 
 of the two main branches of the Rhone are protected, 
 as well as the sea-face of the Camargue, the triangle 
 between them, and the annual cost to the country to 
 keep them in repair is one hundred and twenty 
 thousand francs. A flood, however, often breaks 
 through the banks, and submerges a large district. 
 On such occasions the additional expense is heavy. 
 
 Now, what is the result of all this outlay ? The 
 engineers and scientific authorities of the coast-works 
 and dykes are pretty unanimous in saying that a great 
 mistake was made in the beginning by Louis XIV. 
 The Rhone ought never to have been embanked. 
 What should have been done was to keep open the 
 mouths of the lagoons, to preserve them from 
 festering. 
 
 Formerly, the large island of the Camargue, occu- 
 pying nearly twenty thousand acres, was periodically 
 inundated by the Rhone, and when the waters fell, 
 a film of the richest deposit was left behind, just 
 as in Egypt the Nile overflows and fertilises its delta. 
 At every overflow eighteen thousand cubic yards of 
 alluvium was deposited over this district, all of which 
 is now carried into the Mediterranean and thrown 
 
THE CAM ARGUE. 185 
 
 clown in the construction of new bars ; utterly- 
 wasted. 
 
 In the time of the Roman domination the 
 Camargue was a second Egypt, and was called " The 
 granary of the Roman army ; " and Aries was given 
 the designation of " The Breasts," so flowing with 
 plenty was it held to be. At the initial cost of 
 millions of pounds, and an annual outlay of five 
 thousand pounds, the Camargue has been reduced to 
 absolute sterility. 
 
 The protected lands, deprived of the sweet water 
 which would have washed from them the salt that now 
 spoils their fertility, and of the natural dressing that 
 Providence sends down to them every spring and 
 autumn, are now productive of only a little coarse 
 wiry grass and thistles, and the dried soil is white with 
 saline efflorescence. At the present day the value of 
 land in the neighbourhood of Aries that is subject to 
 periodic inundation is three times that of the land 
 guarded by costly embankments against the bounties 
 of the river. 
 
 On descending the sinuous course of the lesser 
 Rhone the hills disappear, the horizon is level as the 
 sea, and all around is desert. Then the current of the 
 Rhone seems to fail wholly, the waters of the river 
 and of the lagoons on both sides of its bed mingle, and 
 become confounded in one sheet. All nature is dead. 
 The dull and sluggish water, streaked with lines of 
 ooze, extend on all sides as far as the eye can reach. 
 The effects of the mirage add bewilderment. One 
 can hardly distinguish water from sky. Nothing can 
 be more dreary than this naked surface, hushed into 
 
[86 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 silence, where vegetation is reduced to a few tufts of 
 rushes and tamarisks. 
 
 But, suddenly, out of the marshy, submerged plain, a 
 strange pile of buildings is seen cutting the horizon, 
 half a castle, half a cathedral, imposing in a mass as it 
 towers above the fragile and squalid hovels crouched 
 at the feet. This building is Les Saintes Maries. 
 
 Probably nowhere in the world is to be seen a spot 
 so desolate and so wretched. The village is planted 
 
 Les Saintes Maries. 
 
 at the extreme west angle of the Camargue. It can 
 be reached by one road only, rough to travel over, and 
 impracticable in winter. This road leaves Aries, or 
 rather Trinquetailles, opposite Aries, traverses the 
 marsh of the Grand Mar, follows the dyke of the 
 river, and then threads its way among morasses, and 
 over soil white with salt, and burning under the rays 
 of the sun. Once in the year this route is crowded 
 with pilgrims, who come to pay their devotions at the 
 spot where it is supposed that the Three Marys, 
 
THE CAM ARGUE. 187 
 
 Mary, the mother of James, Mary Salome, and their 
 servant Sara, landed. The legend is somewhat 
 mixed. According to one version, those who came to 
 Provence, flying from the persecution raised by the 
 Jews, were Lazarus, Mary Magdalene, and Martha. 
 Lazarus, as we have seen, has been appropriated by 
 Marseilles as its apostle ; Martha has been settled at 
 Tarascon, and Mary Magdalene has been given a cell in 
 La Sainte Baume. Here, at Les Saintes Maries, how- 
 ever, the apostolic three are said to be Mary, mother of 
 James, Mary, wife of Cleopas, and Sara, their servant ; 
 but a concession to the other tradition is made, in 
 that it is allowed that these three brought with them 
 Lazarus and Martha. 
 
 Nothing was known of all this till the time of good 
 King Rene. The church at this point was called in 
 the sixth century S. Maria de Ratis, S. Mary of the 
 Boats, by S. Caesarius, Bishop of Aries. William, 
 Count of Provence, in his will, a.d. 992, gives it the 
 same designation ; so Raimbald, Archbishop of Aries 
 in a.d. 1 06 1, " The Church of the Ever Virgin Mother 
 of God, Mary of the Boats." So also Bertrand II., 
 Count of Provence, at the same date. Two bulls of 
 popes in 1 123 and 1200 speak of the church as that of 
 S. Mary on the Sea. So does Gervais of Tilbury. 
 In 1 24 1 Raymond Berengarius, Count of Provence, 
 entitles it Notre Dame de la Mer. And so it continued 
 to be called in documents down to 1395. If not Our 
 Lady of the Sea, it was S. Maria de la Mar, of the 
 Mere, the Lagoon. 
 
 However, in 1448, King Rene took it into his head 
 that Mary and the Mere were distinct persons, that 
 
IN TR O UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 Mary was not, could not be, the Virgin, she must be one 
 of the other Marys ; so with a little putting together 
 of heads and puzzlement, he and his advisers decided 
 that the two Marys were Mary, the mother of James, 
 and Mary Salome. The next thing to be done was to 
 find their bodies there, but that naturally presented 
 no difficulty. There were bones there — from Pagan 
 times. Since that date a great pilgrimage has taken 
 place annually to Les Saintes Maries ; and the cure of 
 Les Baux, being very satisfied that the Tremaie in his 
 parish must be the Three Marys, erected a chapel 
 under the rock sculptured with the figures of Marius, 
 Martha, and Julia. 
 
 The Magdalen is probably a personation of the 
 perished city of Maguelonne, as one of the Marys is 
 the Mar or Mere ; and Martha, there can hardly be a 
 question, is the Syrian prophetess who accompanied 
 Marius, but who in her place inherited the attributes 
 and cult of Martis, the Phoenician goddess, venerated, 
 doubtless, at all the settlements of these mercantile 
 adventurers along the coast. 
 
( i8 9 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TARASCON. 
 
 Position of Tarascon and Beaucaire opposite each other — Church of 
 S. Martha — Crypt — Ancient paintings — Catechising — Ancient 
 altar — The festival of the Tarasque — The Phoenician goddess 
 Martha — Story of S. Fronto — Discussion at dejeuner over the 
 entry of M. Carnot into Marseilles — The change in the French 
 character — Pessimism — Beaucaire — Font — Castle — Siege by Ray- 
 mond VII. — Story of Aucassin and Nicolette. 
 
 arascon and Beaucaire stand 
 frowning at each other across 
 the Rhone, each with its castle ; 
 Beaucaire a grand pile on a 
 crag, Tarascon dipping its feet 
 in the water, and sulkily showing 
 to its enemy a plain face, reserving all its pictu- 
 resqueness for its side towards the 
 town. This castle of Tarascon was 
 one in which King Rene resided, as 
 well as in that at Aix, but the Aix 
 castle is gone, and that at Tarascon 
 remains. Beaucaire belonged to the A 
 counts of Toulouse, whereas Tarascon, jL 
 as already said, belonged to Provence, ^^o™' 
 I do not like to venture on an explana- 
 tion of the name, but the Tar with which it begins is 
 
1 90 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 most probably the Keltic Daur, water.* But the 
 Tarasconese will not hear of this. To them the name 
 is taken from the Tarasc, a monster that devastated the 
 
 whole country round, but 
 whom S. Martha bridled 
 and slew. S. Martha, as 
 we have already seen, is 
 the very prophetess who 
 directed Caius Marius in 
 his campaign against the 
 Teutons and Ambrons, 
 the devastating horde that 
 has in the popular 
 imagination been repre- 
 sented as a dragon. The 
 body of S. Martha is 
 supposed to lie in the 
 crypt, in an early Christian 
 marble sarcophagus, pro- 
 bably brought from the 
 Alyscamp at 
 Aries, repre- 
 senting Moses 
 striking the 
 rock, and the 
 m i racu 1 ous 
 feeding of the 
 multitude, the miracle of Cana, and the resurrection 
 of Lazarus. 
 
 * Gwask, in Breton, is contraction, and at Tarascon the river is 
 drawn together by the opposed points of Beaucaire and Tarascon. 
 This may perhaps form the second syllable. 
 
 Spire of S. Martha's Church, Tarascon. 
 
TARASCON. 
 
 ■9 1 
 
 In this crypt is a Corinthian capital turned upside 
 down and converted into a holy water stoup ; also a 
 very early and curious altar, the slab of which is just 
 two feet square, and has in the midst a square hole cut, 
 probably of later date, for the reception of relics ; the 
 height of the altar is three feet three and a-half inches, 
 it is of a porous stone that has become greatly corroded 
 with weather. It is probably 
 the earliest Christian altar in 
 France. 
 
 In the crypt is a life-size 
 representation of the entomb- 
 ment of S. Martha, with 
 figures standing round, Chr st 
 at the head, and S. Fronto 
 at the feet. 
 
 The church of S. Martha is of the 
 fourteenth century, with the exception 
 of the south portal, which dates from 
 1 187, and is rich in its deeply-recessed 
 FE mouldings filled with sculpture, but has 
 in s. Martha's been sadly mutilated. Within the church 
 is some very fine ironwork, a grille 
 dividing the choir from the side aisles, and a charming 
 iron safe let into the wall on the north side, of iron- 
 work painted and gilt. There are moreover some 
 quaint paintings ; an ancient altarpiece representing 
 S. Rocque, between S. John and S. Laurence, on a 
 gold ground ; a S. Mary Magdalen with the portrait 
 of a canon kneeling at her feet ; the finest painting is 
 S. Michael, also with a canon kneeling below. The 
 armour of the archangel is very rich, and heightened 
 
IQ2 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-IAND. 
 
 with gold. The date of these pictures is 1 5 1 3. There 
 is another of the Nativity that is inferior. Whilst 
 looking round the church, I heard singing muffled and 
 distant, and presently, on reaching the steps that 
 descended to the crypt, found that a young priest was 
 
 there cate- 
 chising a class of 
 little girls. After 
 some instructions 
 they sang a hymn, 
 which a Sister of 
 Mercy was accom- 
 panying on the 
 harmonium. The 
 air was taking. It puzzled me at first. It was familiar 
 and yet strange, and not till the children had reached 
 the last verse did I recognise a wonderfully distorted 
 form of the mermaid's son<r in Oberon, all the 
 
 King Rene's Castle. Tarascon. 
 
TARASCON. 193 
 
 accents being altered. In this crypt is the tomb 
 of a Neapolitan knight attached to the court of king 
 Rene ; and in the floor a well the water of which rises 
 and falls with the river. In all probability this crypt 
 was originally the baptistery of the first basilica erected 
 in Tarascon. 
 
 The castle of King Rene is wonderfully picturesque 
 on the landside. It was begun in 1400 ; he is said to 
 have instituted the festival of the Tarasque, that used 
 to be conducted with great merriment annually on 
 July 29th. 
 
 A procession of mummers attended by the clergy 
 paraded the town, escorting the figure of a dragon, 
 made of canvas, and wielding a heavy beam of wood 
 for a tail, to the imminent danger of the legs of all 
 who approached. The dragon was conducted by a 
 girl in white and blue, who led it by her girdle of blue 
 silk, and when the dragon was especially frolicsome 
 and unruly dashed holy water over it. 
 
 The ceremony was attended by numerous practical 
 jokes, and led to acts of violence, in consequence of 
 which it has been suppressed. 
 
 S. Martha has inherited the symbols of the Phoeni- 
 cian goddess of her own name, the ship and the 
 dragon ; there can be little doubt that the first Phoe- 
 nician settlers in Provence introduced her worship as 
 the patroness of sailors, and that this worship acquired 
 a fresh impulse after the destruction of the Teutons 
 who had overrun the land, when the prophetess 
 Martha was regarded as one with the earlier goddess. 
 When Christianity came in, the name of the hostess 
 of Bethany was given to the churches erected where 
 
 o 
 
194 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 Martha the moon goddess had been venerated before, 
 so as gradually to wean the heathen from their old 
 faith. They came over into the Church, but brought 
 with them their myth of the pagan goddess. 
 An odd legend is told of her death. 
 On a Sunday morning, S. Fronto, bishop of Peri- 
 geux was about to say Mass, and whilst waiting for 
 the congregation to assemble, fell asleep in his chair, 
 
 when he saw Christ 
 appear, who bade 
 him come and assist 
 at the obsequies of 
 Martha. Instantly 
 he found himself 
 translated to Taras- 
 con, in the church 
 with our Lord, he 
 at the feet and 
 Christ at the head 
 of the body, and the 
 Saviour sang the 
 burial office. In the 
 meantime at Peri- 
 geux, the deacon 
 of the bishop, and 
 At length Fronto 
 
 HOP. 13 
 
 A BIT IN TARASCON. 
 
 wondered at the heavy sleep 
 
 had much ado to rouse him 
 
 opened his eyes, when the deacon whispered that the 
 
 people were impatient with long waiting. 
 
 "Do not be troubled," said Fronto, "you do not 
 understand what I have been about." 
 
 Now it fell out that whilst at Tarascon Fronto was 
 engaged in burying Martha, he had taken off his glove 
 
TARASCON. 
 
 J 95 
 
 and ring, and had put them into the hands of the 
 sacristan. When Fronto informed the congregation 
 at Perigeux what he had been about, they disbelieved. 
 However, messengers were sent to Tarascon, and his 
 glove and ring were identified. These were preserved 
 as relics in the church till the Revolution. Unfortu- 
 nately for the story, Fronto of Perigeux belongs to 
 the fourth century, so that the lapse in dream was 
 not merely a skip over half France, but also through 
 four centuries. 
 
 Tarascon has some picturesque bits in the town, 
 arcades with shops underneath, and quaint doorways 
 of Renaissance work ; but its chief charm after the castle 
 is certainly the view across the river to the heights of 
 Beaucaire with its grand ruins. 
 
 I lunched at an hotel where, nearly opposite me, was 
 a gentleman who had been at Marseilles on the arrival 
 of the President, and was very full of what he had 
 seen. At the table were half-a-dozen beside myself, 
 and he held forth to them on the spectacle. Opposite 
 him sat a bullet-headed commercial traveller. 
 
 " But," said the latter, " I would not have crossed 
 the Rhone by the bridge of Tarascon to have seen him. 
 What is M. Sadi-Carnot ? He is naught." 
 
 " No, but he represents the nation. Give us a 
 pump as president, and we must garland that pump 
 with flowers. And believe me, c'est un vilain metier 
 cet de president. If he leans a little too much on this 
 side he goes down into the mud, a little too much on 
 the other he rolls in the dust. One must feel some 
 respect for the man who undertakes such a thankless 
 office. And, again, when a man rides in an open 
 
 o 2 
 
1 96 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 landau in pelting rain, when il lui pleut dans le nez, 
 without an umbrella, with his hat off, saluting right and 
 left, he deserves recognition." 
 
 "It was not worth the cost of his entertainment. 
 I am surprised that Marseilles did it." 
 
 " I beg pardon. It was worth while doing it. Had 
 the weather been fine, it would have brought money 
 into the town." 
 
 " What ! Would any English and American travellers 
 desert Montecarlo for a day to see a Sadi-Carnot ? " 
 
 " No, but every woman in Marseilles would have 
 bought a new kerchief or a trinket to make herself 
 smart, just because it was a fete. As it was, money 
 circulated." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " One thousand and ninety-seven umbrellas were 
 sold that day at prices ranging from five to fifteen 
 francs, which on other occasions sell for two francs 
 twenty-five centimes, and ten francs." 
 
 I do not know whether I have been peculiarly un- 
 fortunate in lighting on only one class of men under 
 the present regime, but whether it be in France, 
 Switzerland, Belgium, or Italy, that I have come across 
 Frenchmen and had a talk with them of late years, I 
 have noticed a prevailing discouragement, a pessimism, 
 that certainly was absent in former days. The very 
 character of a French table d'hote is changed. Instead 
 of Gallic vivacity, merriment, and general conversation, 
 such as one was wont to find there, one encounters 
 silence, reserve, and a marked absence of self-assertion. 
 It is the Germans who are now boisterous and self- 
 assertive at table. The French are quiet and subdued. 
 
TARASCON. 
 
 i97 
 
 As I have already said, I may be mistaken ; I may 
 have hit on exceptional cases, but it is a fact that those 
 Frenchmen I have conversed with during the last two 
 or three years have been oppressed with a conviction 
 that France has lost caste among the nations, that her 
 future is menaced, and they say that they see no way 
 out of their present condition. 
 
 As one said to me last winter in Rome : " The idea 
 of France is an abstraction. We range ourselves now 
 under parties, our devotion is no longer to our country 
 but to our party. Have you ever been at a stag hunt ? 
 When the noble beast is down the huntsman slices it 
 open and throws the heart and liver and entrails to the 
 hounds. Then ensues a battle. Every dog snatches 
 at what he desires, and envies the other the piece of 
 offal he has secured. All are filled with hatred of each 
 other, and selfish greed as to who can eat most and the 
 best morsels of the fallen beast. And that is a picture 
 of France. If war came upon us, we must infallibly 
 be overthrown, for each general would be seeking out 
 of the accidents of warfare to steal an advantage for 
 himself or the party he favours." 
 
 The town of Beaucaire, on the farther side of 
 the Rhone, is fuller of picturesque points ttian is 
 Tarascon. Seated at the head of the Beaucaire Canal, 
 that communicates with the sea, it has that commercial 
 prosperity which is lacking at Tarascon. The old 
 church is an exact reproduction of that of S. Martha, 
 but has in addition a most remarkable font, a structure 
 rising in stages like a tower, and with a spire to cap 
 it, resembling somewhat the sacramental tabernacles 
 in the German churches. The Hotel de Ville is a 
 
1 98 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 picturesque Renaissance building with bold open 
 staircase on pillars. The castle of Beaucaire crowns 
 the ridge of limestone that extends across the country 
 from Nimes and is cut through by the Rhone, again 
 emerging, in a low eminence, at Tarascon. This 
 noble castle was taken by Simon de Montfort in 
 the Albigensian War from the Count of Toulouse, 
 but the youthful Raymond VII., though only nineteen 
 years old, laid siege to it in 1216, and succeeded 
 in recovering it. In this siege, the inhabitants of 
 the town, under the young count, assailed the castle. 
 Simon de Montfort collected an army and attacked 
 Raymond in the rear. There is a very curious account 
 of this siege in a Provencal poem on the Albigen- 
 sian War, from which I will quote a few lines, only 
 premising that in the original the castle is called the 
 Capitol : — 
 
 " The townsmen set up their engines against the 
 Crusaders in the castle, and so battered it that castle 
 and watch-tower were broken, beams and lead and 
 stone. At Holy Easter the battering-ram was made 
 ready, long, iron-headed, sharp, which so struck and 
 cut that the wall was injured, and the stones began to 
 fall out. But the besieged were not discouraged ; they 
 made a loop of cords attached to a wooden beam, and 
 with that they caught the head of the ram and held it 
 fast. This troubled those of Beaucaire sore ; till the 
 master engineer came, and he set the ram in motion 
 once more. Then several of the assailants got up the 
 rock, and began to detach portions of the wall with 
 their picks. This the besieged were ware of, and they 
 let down upon them sulphur and pitch and fire in 
 
TARASCON. 
 
 199 
 
 sackcloth by a chain along the wall, and when it blazed 
 it broke forth and was spilt over the workmen, and 
 suffocated them so that not one could there continue. 
 Then they went to their machines for casting stones, 
 and they threw them with such effect into the castle as 
 to break all the beams thereof." 
 
 Beaucaire castle is now in ruins, but the Romanesque 
 chapel remains in tolerable condition. In it Louis IX. 
 
 The Chapel 
 
 is said to 
 have heard 
 Mass before 
 he embarked 
 for the cru- 
 s a d e to 
 Egypt. The 
 
 pretty old Provencal poem of Aucassin and Nicolette, 
 which has been recently translated into English by 
 Mr. Andrew Lang and daintily published, has its scene 
 laid at Beaucaire. Tieck gave a version of it in 
 his " Phantasus." 
 
 As we are on the very scene of this graceful little 
 tale, I must give the essence of it. The romance, 
 which dates from the second half of the thirteenth 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 century, is in prose, mingled with scraps of rhyme, 
 destined to be sung, and with their musical notation 
 given. At the head of each scrap of verse comes the 
 rubric " Now is to be sung," and the prose passages 
 are headed, " Now is to be said." 
 
 Aucassin was the son of the Count of Beaucaire. 
 He was fair of face, with light curled hair and grey 
 eyes. Now there was a viscount in the town who 
 had bought of the Saracens a little maid, and he 
 taught her the Christian faith, and had her baptised 
 and called Nicolette. 
 
 Then said the Count of Beaucaire to his son 
 Aucassin that he should go to battle and win his spurs 
 and be dubbed a knight. Aucassin replied that he 
 had no wish to be a knight, unless his father would 
 give him Nicolette "ma douce mie" to wife. The 
 count is indignant. He says that his son must marry 
 the daughter of a king or of a count ; but Aucassin 
 replies that were an empress offered him he would 
 refuse her for Nicolette. Thereat the count goes to 
 the viscount and bids him give up the little maid that 
 he may burn her as a witch. The viscount hesitates, 
 and promises he will put her out of reach of Aucassin. 
 Thereupon he shuts her up in a tower, along with her 
 nurse, where there is but a single window. And the 
 count promises his son that he shall have his " douce 
 mie " if he will go to fight against the mortal enemy of 
 their house, the Count of Vallence. Aucassin believes 
 his father ; goes and captures the count. Then the 
 father refuses to fulfil his promise. Aucassin in a 
 rage releases the Count of Vallence, and the Count of 
 Beaucaire imprisons his son in a tower of the castle. 
 
TARASCON. 
 
 One moonlight night, when her nurse is asleep, 
 Nicolette ties the bedclothes together and lets herself 
 down out of the window, escapes from the town, and 
 goes under the castle, where she hears Aucassin 
 lamenting in his prison. She speaks to him and he 
 replies. 
 
 But (as it is ascertained that she has escaped) the 
 guard are sent forth in search of her, with orders to 
 run her through the body if found. However, the chief 
 officer of the guard is a merciful man, and so, as he 
 goes about, he sings a song to warn her, and she hides 
 in the shadow of the tower till the watch is gone by 
 and then flies away into the forest land. There she 
 builds herself a hut. When no tidings of Nicolette 
 are heard, the Count of Beaucaire lets his son forth 
 from prison. One day, as Aucassin rides in the forest, 
 he lights on the cabin of his dear Nicolette, and they 
 resolve to fly together. So they take a boat on the 
 Rhone and they are washed down towards the sea, 
 captured by Saracen pirates and separated. Aucassin 
 is ransomed and returns home. Nicolette stains her 
 face, makes her escape, obtains a z'iclle, and travels 
 about Provence, singing ballads. She comes to 
 Beaucaire, where Aucassin is now count, his father 
 having died, and sings to her hurdy-gurdy the song of 
 her adventures. The tears run down his cheeks, and 
 he promises her rich gifts if she will tell him more. 
 Then she goes to the vicountess — the viscount is 
 dead — washes off the walnut juice, dresses in best 
 array, is seen and recognised by Aucassin, they are 
 married with great pomp, and are happy ever after. 
 A dear little innocent story, fresh and sweet with the 
 
IN TR O UBAD O UR-IAND. 
 
 springtime bloom of early literature, withal full of 
 curious pictures of the feelings of the time relative 
 to chivalry, monachism, and religion. 
 
 Beaucaire Castle from Tarascon.— Sunset. 
 
( 2° 3 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 NIMES. 
 
 The right spelling of Nimes — Derivation of name — The fountain — 
 Throwing coins into springs — Collecting coins — Symbol of 
 Agrippa — Character of Agrippa — What he did for Nimes — The 
 Maison Carree — Different idea of worship in the Heathen world 
 from what prevails in Christendom — S. Baudille — -Vespers — 
 Activity of the Church in France — behaviour of the Clergy in 
 Italy to the King and Queen — The Revolution a blessing to the 
 Church in France — Church services in Italy and in France — 
 The Tourmagne — Uncertainty as to its use — Cathedral of Nimes 
 — Other churches — A canary lottery — Altars to the Sun — The 
 sun-wheel — The Cross of Constantine — -Anecdote of Flechier. 
 
 pray the reader to observe how 
 I spell the name of Nimes, with 
 neither an s nor a circumflex, 
 neither as Nismes, nor as Nimes, 
 for both are wrong. Nimes 
 is Nemausus, and there is 
 no s to be sounded or sup- 
 pressed in the ancient name 
 of the place, which comes 
 from the Keltic naimh, a fountain or spring. And in 
 very truth no other name could better suit it, for here 
 under a limestone hill wells up the river in one large 
 flood sufficient for boats to 2fO on it at once. This oreat 
 green spring, ever flowing, mysterious even nowadays, 
 is the great feature of Nimes, and this fountain 
 
2 o 4 IN TR O UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 certainly awoke the veneration of the old Gauls, who 
 believed it to be a direct gift of the gods. One follows 
 up a canal between streets planted with trees, and 
 looks down into the pure water like liquid green glass, 
 then suddenly reaches a garden. Above rises a wooded 
 hill, thick with pines, syringa, Judas tree of brilliant 
 pink lake, laburnum with its chains of gold, forming 
 an arc of flowers, and sees before one a wide 
 enclosed pool, walled round, of the shape of the 
 figure 8, heaving with cold pure water that flows away 
 under the terrace and falls with a roar to the lower 
 level of the canal. On one side are ruins — of a temple 
 to the Nymphs ; but one cannot at first look at that, 
 the volume of water engages one — a lake lifting itself up 
 by its own strength out of the earth, always, night and 
 day, inexhaustible, hardly varying in volume, coming 
 no one knows whence, deep and green, with no visible 
 bottom, without a bubble, without a ruffle— it is indeed 
 wonderful. I have seen the spring of the Danube at 
 Donaueschingen : it is nothing to this ; the fountain 
 of Vaucluse one can understand — it breaks out from a 
 cave in the mountainside, like scores of others ; this 
 is otherwise- — a river rising with no fuss, no display, no 
 noise, without even a ripple. 
 
 It does not gush, it does not boil up. It is simply 
 one glassy surface, and looking at it you cannot con- 
 ceive that it is a river rising vertically and sliding 
 away under your feet. Pliny says of the source 
 of the Clitumnus : " At the foot of a little hill 
 covered with venerable and shady trees, a spring 
 issues which, gushing out in different and unequal 
 streams, forms itself, after several windings, into 
 
N1MES. 
 
 205 
 
 a spacious basin, so extremely clear that you may 
 see the pebbles, and the little pieces of money that 
 are thrown into it, as they lie at the bottom." I have 
 quoted this passage, not because the source of the 
 Clitumnus at all resembles that of the river at Nimes, 
 
 but because 
 of the men- 
 tion of the 
 coins thrown 
 in. Sueto- 
 nius speaks 
 of this same 
 practice in 
 his life of 
 August u s. 
 Now this 
 fountain at 
 Nimes has 
 yielded, and 
 yields still, 
 an almost 
 inexhaustible supply of 
 Roman and Gaulish and 
 Gallo-Greek coins that 
 have been thus thrown 
 in as oblations to the 
 nymphs in remote times ; 
 and these coins are now in the museums of Nimes 
 and Paris, and in those of private collectors. The 
 same custom still remains, but instead of coins, pins 
 are now cast into springs. 
 
 At the entrance to the public gardens, over, the 
 
 & 
 
 In the Public Garden, Nimes. 
 
2o6 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 iron gate is a medallion representing a crocodile and a 
 palm-tree. The moment I saw it I stood still and 
 stared. I knew that symbol, had known it from a boy. 
 And this is how I came to know it. Living much in 
 the south of France, and having always a hankering 
 after old things, I collected coins, and I got them from 
 the priests. The peasants were wont to drop old 
 Roman coins which they found in their fields into the 
 offertory bags and plates, and as these were of no use 
 to the curtsy they were very glad to give or sell them 
 to me for small current sous. By this means I 
 succeeded in making a very tolerable collection of 
 Roman coins at an incredibly small cost. Now among 
 these, one of the very first I got, and most curious, 
 represented Octavius and Agrippa on one side, and 
 on the reverse this identical symbol of a crocodile 
 under a palm tree. Often enough did I turn that coin 
 over and wonder what it meant, and highly delighted 
 was I to discover its signification at length. It was 
 symbolical of the subjugation of Egypt, and was struck 
 in compliment to Agrippa. Then most assuredly 
 Agrippa had something to do with Nimes. I turned 
 to a little history of the place that I had, and to my 
 delight found that he it was who is held to have been 
 the great benefactor, indeed maker, of this little town. 
 
 I have the greatest possible respect for Agrippa. 
 His stern, yet noble face, once seen in this bust is 
 never to be forgotten, and infinitely sad — sad beyond 
 comparison in history is the story of his family. 
 
 He was a man of obscure, plebeian birth, Marcus 
 Vipsanius Agrippa, belonging to a family, the Vip- 
 sanian, of which the gentlemen of Rome professed 
 
NIMES. 207 
 
 never to have heard, or not to have found it necessary 
 to trouble their heads to learn anything. He was a 
 fine soldier, a man of plain manners, good morals, 
 upright, faithful, unambitious. Octavius Augustus 
 was warmly attached to him, and valued his good 
 qualities and his admirable military genius ; and 
 Agrippa on his side was tenderly devoted to his noble 
 friend. Their characters were as unlike as their faces 
 and as their manners. When Octavius became the 
 supreme ruler of the destinies of Rome, he heaped 
 honours on his friend. He made him put away his 
 wife and marry his own daughter Julia. He had 
 children by her, Caius and Lucius, who grew to man's 
 estate and then died, one from a wound, the other 
 of decline, and another son, an ill-conditioned boy, 
 Agrippa Posthumus, put to death, probably by order 
 of Octavius, a commission given on his own death- 
 bed, to save Rome from internecine war. 
 
 His daughter, Agrippina, starved herself to death, 
 heartbroken at the murder of her two sons by Tiberius, 
 and despairing at the thought that her other son, the 
 crazy, debauched, cruel Caligula was alone left to 
 represent her family. The other daughter of Agrippa, 
 Julia, was infamous for her debaucheries, and died in 
 banishment. The family was then represented by the 
 second Agrippina, daughter of the first Agrippina, who 
 became the mother of Nero — that son who was his 
 mother's and his brother's murderer, and died finally 
 by his own hand, amidst the execrations of the Roman 
 world. 
 
 The sad shadow that lies on the brow of Agrippa 
 almost seems to be cast there by the destiny awaitino- 
 
2o3 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 his family. Not one drop of his blood mingled with 
 the sacred ichor of the Julian race remains on earth. 
 But other remnants of Agrippa abide. The Pantheon 
 of Rome, and the Pont du Gard near Nimes, aye — 
 and the baths he made for the washerwomen in the 
 water he led into this town, that they might not sully 
 the sacred spring that welled up before the temple of 
 the Nymphs. 
 
 Agrippa in his various offices and governorships 
 accumulated great wealth, but he was not a grasping 
 man, nor one who spent his wealth upon himself. 
 Wherever he was, he expended his fortune on im- 
 proving and embellishing the cities under his sway. 
 Thus it was that for quite an inconsiderable little town, 
 which the classic authors pass over without notice, he 
 lavished very large sums to provide it with excellent 
 water from two springs twenty-five miles distant, not 
 that the river that rises at Nimes is impure, but that 
 a certain awe felt for it withheld the natives from 
 desecrating the sacred waters to common use. 
 
 The Pont du Gard which carried the waters by 
 three tiers of arches across the valley of the Gurdon, 
 at a height of one hundred and eighty feet, is one of 
 the most striking and perfect of the monuments left by 
 the Romans in Gaul, or anywhere ; and it is certainly 
 remarkable that the two most complete relics of this 
 great people that remain, should have been the work of 
 Agrippa, the Pantheon and the Pont du Gard. This 
 latter is a colossal work. Its length is S73 feet at 
 top, and may well be compared to its advantage with 
 the modern aqueduct that conveys water to the Prado 
 of Montpellier, a more lengthy, but a feeble structure. 
 
NIMES. 
 
 209 
 
 The Roman remains in Nimes are held famous 
 everywhere. Nowhere, least of all in Rome, are the 
 relics of that great people of builders to be seen in 
 such perfection. There is the amphitheatre, smaller, but 
 more perfect even, than that at Aries. There is the 
 Maison Carrce, a temple almost quite perfect, and of 
 surpassing proportional perfection. Small this temple 
 is : it consists of thirty elegant Corinthian columns, ten 
 of which are disengaged, and form the portico, whereas 
 the remainder are engaged in the naos or sanctuary. 
 
 The Maison Carree, Nimes. 
 
 No engraving can 
 give an idea of its 
 
 loveliness. It is the 
 best example we have 
 in Europe, of a temple that is perfectly intact. It 
 is mignon, it is cheerful, it is charming. I found 
 myself unable at any time to pass it without looking 
 round over my shoulder, again and again, and uttering 
 some exclamation of pleasure at the sight of it. 
 
 That temple is instructive in a way the ordinary 
 traveller would hardly suspect. It is a valuable example 
 to us of the complete and radical difference that existed 
 between the Pagan and the Christian ideas of worship. 
 The Pagan world had no idea of gathering a congrega- 
 
 p 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 tion together, any more than I may say have the old 
 canons of Florence, or of S. Peter's, Rome, who shut 
 themselves into glass boxes, of bringing all men 
 into one building to unite in prayer and praise. The 
 sanctuaries of the Pagan gods were quite small and 
 dark. Worship was simply an individual matter, a 
 bringing of a sacrifice to an altar. There was nothing 
 like congregational worship in the Jewish temple 
 either. The priest alone went within to offer the 
 incense, whilst the people stood without. But in the 
 Christian church the condition of affairs was com- 
 pletely reversed. The worship of God was to be for 
 all the people, all together, with one heart and one 
 voice. That is whv the early Christians in the fourth 
 century never adapted a temple to a church. A temple 
 could not be adapted. The pillars were all outside, 
 and within was a little dark box — the sanctuary — that 
 would not hold more than a couple of score of persons. 
 They could not use the temples ; what they wanted 
 were temples turned outside-in, the pillars within 
 forming great halls in which a crowd might be 
 gathered. 
 
 I had been looking at this delightful little temple 
 and considering this, and it was a Sunday. I sauntered 
 on, this still on my mind, when I fell in with trains of 
 school children, all drifting in one direction. I followed 
 them, and found myself in the great new church 
 of S. Baudille. The time was afternoon. The church, 
 quite a cathedral in size, was crowded, boys' schools, 
 girls' schools, men, women, of all sorts and ranks were 
 there. Then I heard such a service as did the heart 
 good to hear. It was only vespers — just five psalms, 
 
NIMES. 
 
 a hymn, and the Magnificat ; nothing more. But the 
 psalms were sung in alternate verses between the choir 
 and the congregation, who knew every word and 
 every note, and sang lustily from their hearts' depths, 
 the plain old Gregorian tones with which many of us 
 are so familiar at home. I found the words welling 
 up in my mind : " The voice of a great multitude, and as 
 the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty 
 thunderings, saying, Alleluia : for the Lord God 
 Omnipotent reigneth." I was glad there was no one 
 with me as we dispersed, to speak to me. I could not 
 have answered, my heart was too full. But I went 
 back to the Maison Carree, and looked again at it 
 for long, and then realised, in a way I had never 
 realised before, how that the Carpenter of Nazareth 
 had transformed the whole idea of worship into 
 something of which the world previously had no 
 conception. 
 
 To the ordinary English traveller the services in a 
 foreign Roman Catholic church are so unintelligible 
 that I may be excused if I say a word on vespers 
 that may enable him to understand it. Usually — 
 always on week days — two evening services, vespers 
 and compline are said together, or rather one im- 
 mediately after the other. Each consists of con- 
 fession and absolution, a short Scriptural lesson, 
 psalms, a canticle, a hymn and collects. The canticle 
 for vespers is the Magnificat ; for compline is the 
 Nunc Dimittis. 
 
 Now as the two services were practically united, 
 what our Reformers did was to weld them together. 
 They cut out the second confession and absolution 
 
 r 2 
 
IN TR O UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 and the second batch of psalms, but retained the 
 second lesson and the second canticle. The English 
 even-song is therefore simply the Latin vespers and 
 compline pressed into a single service. The Reformers, 
 by putting a psalm as alternative for each canticle, 
 perhaps intended the English even-song to serve as 
 either vespers (when Magnificat was sung) or as 
 compline (when Nunc Dimittis was sung). 
 
 When I was in Rome during the winter, I was 
 very much astonished, one day, as the King of Italy 
 passed, to see a whole school of little boys under the 
 direction of three Christian Brothers, strut by with 
 their little noses in the air, and without raising their hats. 
 At the same pension with myself was a young Swiss 
 Benedictine monk, who sat by me at table d'hote, 
 and with whom I struck up a warm friendship. 
 I commented to him on what I had seen. " Oh ! " he 
 replied, "we make a point of never saluting the 
 king. Why," he continued, "only yesterday I was 
 
 walking down the Corso with Cardinal U , when 
 
 we saw the queen's carriage approaching. I asked 
 what was to be done. His eminence replied, ' Keep 
 your hat on, don't notice her.' " 
 
 I confess that my English blood boiled up, and 
 for the first and last time I spoke sharply to my 
 friend. I believe I made a certain allusion to an 
 injunction of S. Paul, and told him plainly that I 
 thought such conduct unbecoming in a gentleman 
 and a Christian, and a priest. 
 
 On entering France ones sees what devastation 
 the Revolution wrought on the Church, and one com- 
 pares the condition there with the very light and easy 
 
NIMES. 213 
 
 way in which she has been taken out of her temporal 
 throne and seated on the ground in I taly. She has been 
 treated there too easily, so easily that she pouts, and 
 frets, and sulks ; whereas in France she has been an 
 Antaeus who rose from the ground stronger than 
 when cast down. In Rome, the Church shuffles along 
 in her old slouching, hands-in-the-pockets, half-asleep, 
 don't-care style, letting every opportunity slip away, 
 neglected by the people, because she neglects them. 
 In France, the Church is tingling with fresh life-blood 
 to her fingers' ends, full of energy, activity, zeal. 
 Why, there is not to be found in Rome, or Florence, or 
 Naples, a church where a tolerable service is to be 
 heard sung. In Rome one gets sick of and angry with 
 the squalling of eunuchs, and longs for a scourge of 
 small cords to drive them out of the temple. No one 
 cares for the Church services in Rome. No attempt is 
 made to attract the people to them. At Florence the 
 service is like the bleating of a flock of sheep driven 
 into a pen to be shorn, and the old canons who baa 
 are enclosed within glass against draughts, and to the 
 exclusion of all congregational worship. But in France, 
 the people who have any religion in them love their 
 services — love them and have made them their own. 
 sing in them and follow them with eager interest. I 
 remember, when I was a youth in France, that few 
 men were seen in church, and the ladies lounged 
 through the service. It is not so now, you see as 
 many men in church as you will in England, and the 
 women are attentive and devout. The Italian Church 
 must suffer deeper humiliation, and learn to touch 
 her cap to " the powers that be, ordained of God," 
 
2 1 4 IN TR VBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 before the people will rally to her and show her 
 reverence. 
 
 On the summit of the hill above the fountain and 
 temple of the Nymphs is a most puzzling building, the 
 Tourmagne. It is of Roman construction, a great 
 tower like that of Babel, in stages, the upper stage 
 with semicircular recesses that sustained the external 
 wall, now in part fallen. No one can tell its purpose. 
 It has clearly been utilised since its first construction 
 by the Romans, by making it an angle tower of some 
 other building, the foundations of which have been 
 quite recently exposed. The tower is octagonal. It 
 resembles the structure of the lighthouse at Ostia, 
 already mentioned as in the Torlonia gallery. But 
 why a lighthouse here ? It is true that to the south 
 of Nimes was lagoon and marsh, with islets and strips 
 of dry land scattered about among the tracts of water, 
 all the way to the sea, but one hardly supposes such 
 a lighthouse would have been raised to guide the 
 utriculares on their skin-sustained rafts. Yet for what 
 other purpose it can have been raised it is hard to 
 imagine. It stands on very high ground, and com- 
 mands a most extensive prospect. It has long been, 
 and is likely to remain, a hard nut for antiquaries 
 to break their teeth upon. 
 
 The cathedral of Nimes has been, not so much 
 restored as transformed internally, so as to void it of 
 much interest, but it must have been a curious church 
 at one time. Externally, at the west end, is a most 
 wonderful frieze, a band of rich sculpture representing 
 the story of man from the Creation to the drunken- 
 ness of Noah. In one chapel within is an old 
 
NIMES. 
 
 215 
 
 Christian sarcophagus utilised as an altar, on it our 
 Lord is represented as teacher surrounded by the 
 apostles. S. Paul is a modern church good in 
 proportion, with an admirable central octagonal tower 
 and spire. The only fault to be found with the 
 church is in the details. S. Baudille is a pretentious 
 Gothic church, with two asparagus shoots as western 
 towers, it has a square east end, with a really 
 marvellously ugly east window. The new church of 
 S. Perpetue is beneath criticism. 
 
 There are two Roman triumphal 
 arches at Nimes, but neither is re- 
 markable. In front of one I found 
 a man exhibiting a cage of canaries. 
 He had a little table before the 
 
 Cathedral of Nimes. - 
 of West Front. 
 
 -Part 
 
 which small cards, each 
 numbered, were set out. 
 Then he sold among 
 the bystanders tickets 
 with corresponding 
 numbers. There were 
 eighteen numbers, and 
 each card sold for a 
 sou, and the whole constituted a lottery for a chain and 
 some seals that the fellow dangled before the eyes of 
 the little circle of lookers-on. The lots were taken 
 up after a little persuasion and chaffering. Then he 
 opened the cage door ; out hopped a canary that trotted 
 up and down the little table, and finally picked up one 
 of the cards. " Number nine," called the proprietor 
 of the canaries. " Which monsieur is the happy 
 possessor of card number nine ? " A soldier stepped 
 
2 1 6 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 forward, presented his tally, and received the silver 
 watch-chain. Then all those who had been unsuccess- 
 ful restored their cards, and the same process was re- 
 peated, this time among women, for a silver thimble. 
 
 Nimes struck me as one of the very brightest, 
 pleasantest towns I have ever visited, and the one 
 in which, if forced to live out of England, I think I 
 could live most happily in. I have said not one 
 word about the museum at Nimes, which is within the 
 Maison Carree, and yet the museum contains some 
 objects deserving of attention. There are two altars 
 with wheels carved on them, both small, the largest 
 only two feet three inches high, and that has on it not 
 the wheel only, but the thunderbolt. These are altars 
 to the Gaulish god of the sun. The second bears an 
 inscription " et terrse matri." It was dedicated doubt- 
 less to the "sun and to the earth mother," but the 
 first portion of the legend is lost. In the Avignon 
 Museum is a statue of a Gaulish Jupiter in military 
 costume, with his right hand on the wheel, and with 
 the eagle on his left.* 
 
 Moreover, in the Nimes museum are some bronze 
 circular ornaments, found in 1883 in the caves of S. 
 Vallon in Ardeche, representing the wheel. On the 
 triumphal arch of Orange are Gaulish warriors with 
 horned helmets, and wheels as crests between the 
 horns. The wheel, as symbol of the sun, was very 
 general everywhere, in the east as well as the west, 
 among the Germans as well as among the Gauls, but 
 among the latter it assumed a very special importance, 
 and it is due to this fact that in the French cathedrals 
 * Others at Treves, Moulin, and Paris. 
 
NIMES. 217 
 
 the west window is a wheel window. At Basle there 
 is a round window in the minster with figures climb- 
 ing- and falling on the spokes, and Fortune sits in the 
 midst. It is a wheel of Fortune. It is the same 
 at Beauvais, at Amiens, and elsewhere. At Chartres 
 is a representation in stained glass of the Transfigura- 
 tion ; and Christ is exhibited in glory in the midst of 
 an eight-spoked wheel. A curious statue at Luxeuil, 
 now lost, represented a rider protecting a lady whilst 
 his horse tramples on a prostrate foe ; his raised hand 
 over the woman is thrust through a six-rayed wheel. 
 On the Meuse a similar peculiarity has been noticed in 
 a fragment of a sculptured figure, it is a hand holding 
 a four-spoked wheel. In the Museum Kircherianum 
 at Rome are bronze six-rayed wheels, the spokes 
 zigzagged like lightnings, found at Forli, others at 
 Moclena. All these were symbols of the sun. Now 
 when Constantine professed to have seen his vision, 
 which was in all probability a mock-sun, he thought 
 that the rays he saw formed the Greek initials of 
 Christ, and he therefore ordered these initials, forming 
 a six-rayed wheel, to be set up on the standards of his 
 soldiers. The only difference between his " Labarum " 
 and the symbol of the Gaulish sun-god was that his 
 upper spoke was looped to form the letter P. No 
 doubt whatever, that his Keltic soldiers hailed the new 
 standard as that of their national god, and that when 
 they marched against Maxentius and met him at Saxa 
 Rubra, eight miles from Rome, they thought that they, 
 as Gauls, were marching to a second capture of the 
 capital of the world, under the protection of their 
 national o;od. 
 
2 x 8 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 Among men of note that have been associated 
 with Nimes is Flechier, born at Pernes in Vaucluse 
 in 1632, who became Bishop of Nimes in 1687. 
 He was the son of a tallow-chandler. From his 
 eloquence he was much regarded as a preacher, but 
 unfortunately his discourses contain very little except 
 well-rounded sentences of well-chosen words. He was 
 a favourite of Louis XIV., who respected his integrity 
 and piety. One day a haughty aristocratic prelate 
 about the Court had the bad taste to sneer at him for 
 his origin. " Avec votre maniere de penser," replied 
 Flechier calmly, "je crois que si vous etiez ne ce que 
 je suis, vous n'eussiez fait, toute votre vie — que de 
 chandelles." 
 
( 219 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AIGUES MORTES AND MAGUELONNE. 
 
 dead town — The Rhones-morts — Bars — S. Louis and the 
 Crusades — How S. Louis acquired Aigues Mortes — His canal — 
 The four littoral chains and lagoons — The fortifications — Unique 
 for their date — Original use of battlements — Deserted state of 
 the town — Maguelonne — How reached — History of Maguelonne 
 — Cathedral — The Bishops forge Saracen coins — Second destruc- 
 tion of the place — Inscription on door — 
 Bernard de Treviis— His Romance of Pierre 
 de Provence — Provencal poetry not always 
 immoral — Present state of Maguelonne. 
 
 IguesMortes* 
 
 a dead 
 own 
 and dif- 
 fers from Maguelonne, to be 
 presently described, in this, that 
 it is a dead town, whereas 
 Maguelonne is only the ghost of 
 a dead town. It is a great curiosity, for it is a dead 
 mediaeval town surrounded by its walls, and domi- 
 nated by its keep. But first about its name, which 
 signifies Dead Waters. If the reader will remember 
 what has been already said about the structure of the 
 delta of the Rhone, he will recall the fact that the river 
 is constantly engaged in changing its mouths. When it 
 
IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 has formed for itself a new mouth, it deserts its former " 
 course, which it leaves as a stagnating canal. This 
 occasions the delta to be striped with what are locally 
 termed Rhones-morts, whereas a flowing branch is 
 called a Rhone-vif. 
 
 Moreover the stagnant masses of water left by 
 floods are called Aigues Mortes — Dead Waters ; and 
 
 it is precisely on such 
 
 that the little fortified 
 town I am now writing 
 about, stands. I know 
 of no point on the 
 littoral of the Rhone 
 that offers so excellent 
 an opportunity 
 \M" °f observing the 
 processes of that 
 river than at Aigues 
 Mortes. The river 
 has, indeed, long ago 
 deserted the branch 
 that once discharged 
 itself here, and it has 
 left four lines behind 
 it, making successive 
 stages of advance, four bars, with their several back- 
 waters, now converted into ponds or meres. The 
 Canal of Beaucaire now passes by Aigues Mortes, and 
 reaches the Mediterranean nearly three miles below 
 the town. 
 
 It was from Aigues Mortes that S. Louis sailed on 
 his Crusades in 1248 and 1270; and it has a little 
 
 Aigues Mortes.— One of the Gates. 
 
AIGUES MORTES AND MAGUELONNE. 
 
 puzzled many people to account for his having chosen 
 such a wretched place as this for the assembly of his 
 Crusaders and for embarkation. But he could not 
 help himself. 
 
 As soon as Louis had, in 1244, made his vow to 
 assume the cross, his first care was to obtain on the 
 shores of the Mediterranean a territory and a port 
 sufficient for the concentration of the troops that were 
 to from his expedition. But he encountered great 
 ^jiP^ difficulty. The king was not 
 
 suzerain over the southern 
 provinces of France, and 
 
 AlGUES MORTES. — TOWER OF THE 
 BOURGIGNONS. 
 
 possessed as his own not a single 
 
 -^^^^-^JS^r^^ town on the coast. 
 
 The port of Nar- 
 bonne was choked 
 with sand, and be- 
 longed to the vis- 
 counts of that town. 
 The port of Mague- 
 lonne was under the 
 sovereignty of the 
 bishop. The lagoons and their openings into the 
 sea of Montpellier were under the King of Aragon. 
 The ports of Agde and S. Gilles were subject to 
 the counts of Toulouse, and independent Provence 
 was not to be attached to the crown till three 
 centuries later. The marshy district of Aigues Mortes 
 was alone available ; it was under the abbey of 
 Psalmodi, planted amidst the swamps on a little sandy 
 elevation. Louis IX. entered into negotiations with 
 the abbot, and in exchange for certain royal domains 
 
IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 near Sommiere, he was enabled to acquire the town of 
 Aigues Mortes and all the zone of lagoons between it 
 and the sea. 
 
 At that time there existed but a single fortification 
 — the tower of Matafera — erected about five centuries 
 before as a place of refuge from the Saracens. 
 S. Louis restored this tower, or rather rebuilt it, in the 
 form in which it remains to this day. Then he con- 
 structed a quay, and scooped out a canal through the 
 lagoons to the sea. This is the old canal, now full of 
 sand, and up this vessels were able to proceed through 
 two lagoons to the tower of Matafera, which acquired 
 later the name of Tour de Constance. But the old 
 canal had an ephemeral existence ; every inundation 
 of the lagoons of the Rhone altered their depths, and 
 disturbed the canal. A century or two later another 
 canal was cut between the old one and that now in 
 use, that also was destined in time to be choked up ; 
 but the old discharging and lading place of the vessels 
 can still be distinguished by the heaps of ballast 
 thrown out, consisting of stones from Genoa and 
 Corsica. It is quite a mistake to suppose that Aigues 
 Mortes was on the sea in the thirteenth century. The 
 Crusaders embarked in the canal cut by S. Louis, and 
 sailed through the lagoons before they reached the 
 open Mediterranean. 
 
 The most ancient maps show us Aigues Mortes 
 bathed by one of those branches of the Rhone, now 
 deserted, which go by the name of Rhones-morts. 
 At a time before history — at all events the history of 
 Gaul begins, the Rhone had its principal mouth in 
 the great Etang de Maugio ; but it choked up its 
 
AIGUES MORTES AND MAGUELONNE. 
 
 223 
 
 mouth there, and advanced eastward in several stages, 
 leaving in its rear, as the river thus shifted its quarters, 
 a series of dwindling and then dead channels. 
 
 What is now the Petit Rhone, reaching the sea at 
 Les Saintes Maries, was then the main stream, which 
 has long ago turned away, and now discharges its 
 greatest body of water into the Mediterranean at 
 Saint Louis. It has left behind it, not only the dead 
 or stagnant Rhones, its neglected beds, but also, as 
 already noticed, its old bars, and these are very dis- 
 
 Sketch Mai> of Aigues Mortes and its Littoral Chains. 
 
 tinctly marked at Aigues Mortes. The first chain 
 gives us the primitive beach, which began at the 
 lagoon of Maugio, traversed the entire Camargue, and 
 can be traced to Fos. It is formed of an almost 
 uninterrupted succession of sandhills crowned with a 
 tolerably rich vegetation ; on it grow the white 
 poplar, the aleppo and the umbrella pines. To the 
 south of this lay the prehistoric sea ; the ground is 
 horizontal, and although subjected to culture shows 
 
224 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 sufficient evidence that it was at one time sea-bed, 
 covered with more recent alluvium. Here is the 
 great lagoon of Loyran, which, before many years are 
 passed, will be completely drained, and its bed turned 
 up by the plough. 
 
 Still advancing seaward, we reach a second littoral 
 chain, not so distinctly marked as the first, but never- 
 theless distinguishable by its low line of sandy dunes, 
 on which a scanty growth of tamarisks and coarse 
 grass is sustained. Then we come to a succession 
 of lagoons, once united into one, and after them the 
 third bar, presenting exactly the same features — a low 
 range of sand and pebbles, and beyond it once more 
 lagoons, cut off from the waves of the Mediterranean 
 by a fourth and last chain, the most recent, that 
 belongs to the historic epoch. 
 
 But that is not all : the wash of the sea, its current 
 settling west, and carrying with it the mud of the 
 Rhone is gradually, but surely building up a fifth bar 
 or bank, which will in time close the gulf from the 
 point of Espignette to the bathing-place of Palavas, 
 when the Gulf of Aigues Mortes will be converted into 
 a second Etang de Berre. 
 
 Aigues Mortes is surrounded by its mediaeval fortifi- 
 cations just as they were left by Philip the Bold, son 
 of S. Louis. The plan of the town is almost 
 quadrilateral, it has six gates and fifteen towers. 
 Only one angle of the parallelogram is cut off, where 
 stands the stately circular tower of Constance. The 
 streets are laid out in the most precise manner, 
 cutting each other at right angles ; there are four 
 churches, of which the principal is Notre Dame des 
 
AIGUES MORTES AND MAGUELONNE. 22; 
 
 Sablons. The others were all formerly attached to 
 monasteries or convents. 
 
 The plan of the fortification is precisely that 
 adopted by the Crusaders wherever they built defences, 
 in Syria, in Cyprus, in Palestine. The walls are cre- 
 nellated, usually without machicolations, pierced with 
 long slots, and with square holes through which beams 
 were thrust, supporting wooden balconies which com- 
 manded the 
 bases of the 
 walls, and 
 enabled the 
 besieged to 
 protect them- 
 selves against 
 the efforts 
 made by the 
 assailants to 
 WmfflSvi 1' sa P tne bases of the ramparts, or 
 
 to escalade the walls. Towers, 
 round and square at intervals, 
 original use of Battle- strengthened the walls, and 
 
 MENTS.— [From Viollet- r i • r 
 
 le-Duc.) formed points of vantage and 
 
 of assembly for the besieged. 
 Precisely similar fortifications were raised about the 
 same period at Tortosa, Antioch, Ascalon, Ceesarea. 
 &c. ; but all these have been destroyed, only Aigues 
 Mortes remains, an unique and perfect example of 
 the systematic fortification adopted by the Crusaders 
 everywhere. 
 
 The reader, probably, has not given a thought to 
 the original purpose of a battlement, so common on 
 
 Q 
 
IN TR O UBA D O UR-LAND. 
 
 towers and churches and castles. I therefore venture 
 to show what it was originally. It was a wall broken 
 through with doorways into the wooden gallery that 
 overhung, and through which the assailants could be 
 kept from approaching too near to the base of the 
 walls. But, after a time, these wooden galleries were 
 found to be inconvenient. Means were taken by the 
 besiegers to set them on fire. Consequently they 
 were abandoned, and their places were taken by pro- 
 jecting galleries of stone, supported, not on wooden 
 
 beams, but on stone cor- 
 bels, and it is this second 
 stage in fortification which 
 is called machicolation. 
 The battlements were re- 
 tained, but were no longer 
 roofed over. Consequently it is 
 possible to tell approximately the 
 epoch of a Mediaeval fortification, by 
 a look at the battlements, whether 
 they stand back flush with the walls, 
 and have the beam-holes, or whether 
 they stand forward, bracketed out from the walls. 
 
 Aigues Mortes is a dead town. About a third of 
 the area within the walls is devoted to gardens, or 
 is waste The population, which in the thirteenth 
 century numbered 15,000 souls, has shrunk to a little 
 over 3,000, a number at which it remains stationary. 
 It does a little sleepy trade in salt, and sees the 
 barges for Beaucaire pass its walls, and perhaps 
 supplies the boatmen with wine and bread. The 
 neighbourhood is desolate. The soil is so full of salt 
 
 Second stage of 
 Battlements. 
 
A IG UES MOR TES AND MA G UEL ONNE. 2 2 7 
 
 that it is impatient of tillage, and produces only such 
 herbs as love the sea border. But its lagoons are 
 alive with wild fowl, rose-coloured flamingoes, white 
 gulls, and green metallic-throated ducks. 
 
 And now for Maguelonne. I said that Aigues 
 Mortes was a dead town, but Maguelonne was the 
 ghost of one. The best way to reach this latter very 
 singular spot is to take the train from Montpellier to 
 Villeneuve de Maguelonne, and walk thence to the 
 border of the Etang. There one is pretty sure to 
 find fishermen — they catch little else than eels — who 
 will row one across to the narrow strip of land that 
 intervenes between the lagoon and the sea. The 
 littoral chain here is not of sand and gravel only, for a 
 mass of volcanic tufa rises to the surface, and originally 
 formed an islet in the sea, then, when the process 
 began of forming a littoral belt with a lagoon behind 
 it, the sands clung to this islet and spread out from it 
 to left and right. 
 
 On this volcanic islet stood first a Greek and then a 
 Roman city, but of its history nothing is known till 
 the sixth century, when it was attacked from the 
 sea by Wamba, King of the Visigoths. It had been 
 an episcopal city for a century before. After the 
 Visigoths came the Saracens, who gave the place 
 their name, and the harbour of Maguelonne was called 
 Port Sarasin. In j$j, Charles Mattel, in order to 
 clear the pirates completely out of their stronghold, 
 destroyed the city to its last foundation, with the 
 sole exception of the old church of S. Peter. The 
 bishop took up his abode on the mainland at 
 Villeneuve, and the seat of the bishopric was moved 
 
 2 
 
228 IN TRO UBA D UR-LAND. 
 
 to Castelnau near Montpellier. For three centuries the 
 islet was abandoned and left a heap of ruins. But it 
 was restored in the eleventh century. The walls were 
 again set up, and flanked with towers, and a causeway 
 consisting of a chain of wooden bridges was carried 
 across the lagoon to Villeneuve. The entrance to the 
 port was closed lest it should invite Saracen pirates, 
 and another opened under the walls of the town which 
 could be rendered impassable by a chain at the first 
 sign of danger. The newly-built town speedily 
 showed vigour, became populous, and the harbour was 
 filled with the merchandise of the Mediterranean. 
 Two popes visited the city, Gelasius II. in 1118, and 
 Alexander III. in 1162. In addition to the Cathedral 
 of S. Peter, other churches were raised, dedicated 
 to S. Augustine and S. Pancras. A castle with keep 
 was erected. 
 
 For several centuries Maguelonne was a sort of 
 ecclesiastical republic, in which the bishop exercised 
 the office of president. It became very rich and 
 luxurious. The bishop, not too scrupulous, forged 
 imitation Saracen coins, and was called to order for 
 doing this by Clement IV. in 1266. It seemed to the 
 sovereign pontiff a scandal, not that the bishop should 
 forge the coins, but that he should forge them with 
 the name of Mahomet on them as " Prophet of God." 
 In 1 33 1 statutes for the monastery on Maguelonne 
 were drawn up, which proved that the discipline kept 
 therein left much to be desired ; and a monastic 
 treatise on cooking that came thence shows that the 
 monks and canons were consummate epicures. 
 
 Maguelonne was ruined first by Charles Martel. 
 
AIGUES MOR TES A ND MA G UEL ONNE. 2 2 9 
 
 It was again, and finally ruined, by Louis XIII. The 
 castle, the walls, the towers, the monastic buildings — 
 everything was levelled to the dust, with the sole 
 exception of the cathedral church. The stones of the 
 dismantled buildings encumbered the ground till 
 1 708, when they were all carried off for the construc- 
 tion of the new canal which runs along the coast 
 through the chain of lagoons from Cette to Aigues 
 Mortes. 
 
 " A church and its archives," says the historian of 
 Maeuelonne, "that is all that the revolution of fate 
 has respected of one of the principal monastic centres 
 in the south. A church in which service is no longer 
 said, and archives that are incomplete. Even the 
 very cemetery of Maguelonne has vanished, as though 
 Death had feared to encounter himself in this desert, 
 where naught remained save the skeleton of a 
 cathedral. Yet what dust is here ! Phoenician, Greek, 
 Celtic, Roman, Christian, Mahomedan, French : 
 A few tombs escaped the observation of the stone 
 collectors of 1708, and even fewer inscriptions, 
 excepting such as are found within the church, that 
 is all! What a realization is this of the sentence 
 on all things human, Pulvis es."* 
 
 The islet of Maguelonne is but one knot in the 
 long thread of cordon littoral that reaches from Cette 
 to Aigues Mortes, and it can be reached on foot by 
 land from Palavas, but the simplest and shortest 
 route is by boat in half an hour over the shallow mere, 
 nowhere over three feet six inches deep. The boats of 
 the fishermen are all flat-bottomed, and the men have 
 * Germain : ' ; Maguelonne et ses Eveques," 1859. 
 
2 3 
 
 IN TR UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 to row gingerly, lest their oars strike the bottom, or 
 else they punt along. One can see as one crosses, the 
 points of rest of the old causeway. The church, like 
 that of Les Trois Maries, is feudal castle as much 
 as cathedral, calculated, on occasion, to give refuge 
 within to the inhabitants of the town, whilst the 
 garrison stood on the flat roof and showered arrows, 
 stones, molten sulphur and pitch upon the besiegers. 
 The whole of this coast was liable to the descent of 
 
 Moorish and Saracen 
 pirates, consequently 
 the same type of 
 church prevails all 
 along it. The 
 western tower is 
 ruinous, but the re- 
 mainder of the church 
 is in tolerable con- 
 dition. It is cruci- 
 form, with an apse, 
 has but very narrow 
 windows, high up and 
 few. The roof is 
 slabbed with stone, so 
 as to form a terrace on which the besieged could walk, 
 and whence they could launch their weapons through 
 the slots and between the battlements. At the south- 
 west end of the church is a curious entrance door of 
 the twelfth century, with a relieving arch of coloured 
 marbles over it, and the apostles Peter and Paul rudely 
 sculptured as supporters of the arch. They occupy a 
 crouching position, and are sculptured on triangular 
 
 
 East End of the Church of 
 Maguelonne. 
 
AIGUES MORTES AND MAGUELONNE. 231 
 
 blocks. In the tympanum is the Saviour seated in 
 glory. But what in addition to its quaintness of design 
 gives peculiar interest to this doorway is the inscrip- 
 tion it bears : — 
 
 AD PORTVM VITE SITIENTES QVIQVE VENITE. 
 HAS INTRANDO FORES, VESTROS COMPONITE MORES. 
 HINC INTRANS ORA, TVA SEMPER CRIMINA PLORA. 
 QVICQVID PECCATVR LACRIMARVM FONTE LAVATVR. 
 B. D. IIIVIS FECIT HOC ANNO INC. DO. CLXXVIII. 
 
 Let those who will come thirsting to the gate of Life. 
 On entering these doors compose your manners. 
 Entering here pray, and ever bewail your crimes. 
 All sin is washed away in the spring of tears. 
 Bernard de Trevies made this, a.d. 1178. 
 
 Now Bernard of the Three-Ways is a man who did 
 something else — he was a novelist and a poet. A 
 Canon of Maguelonne, gentle and pure of heart, he 
 wrote the story of ' Pierre de Provence et la belle 
 Maguelone,' a charming monument of the old Langue- 
 doc tongue worthy to range alongside with ' Aucassin 
 et Nicolette.' It has been translated into most 
 European languages, Greek not excepted, and has 
 become a favourite chapbook tale. It is still read 
 in all cottages of France, sold at all fairs, but sadly 
 mutilated at each re-edition, and in its chapbook 
 form reduced to a few pages, which is but a wretched 
 fragment of a very delightful whole. No idea of its 
 beauty can be obtained without reference to the old 
 editions, where it occupies a goodly volume. 
 
 The story of Pierre de Provence is not one of 
 extraordinary originality, but its charm lies in its 
 general tone, healthy, pure, gentle, full of the freshness 
 
232 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 of chivalry in its first institution, and of religion in 
 its simplicity. We probably have not got the poetic 
 romance quite in its original form as it left the 
 hands of Bernard, for Petrarch, whilst a student at 
 Montpellier, was struck with it, and added some 
 polishing touches, and it is the version thus improved 
 by his master-hand that is believed to have come down 
 to us. I shrink from still further condensing a story 
 spoiled already by condensation, and yet do not like 
 altogether to pass it over without giving the reader 
 some idea of it. 
 
 The story tells of a Peter, son of the Count of 
 Melgueil, who, hearing that the King of Naples 
 had a daughter of surpassing loveliness, determined 
 to ride and see her. He had himself accoutred in 
 armour, with silver keys on his helm, and on his 
 shield ; and when he reached Naples jousted in 
 tournament before the fair princess, whose name was 
 Maguelone, and loved her well, and she him. But, 
 alas ! the king had promised to give her to the 
 Prince of Carpona in marriage, and as she felt she 
 could not live without her Pierre, and Peter was quite 
 sure he could not live without her, they eloped 
 together. When the sun waxed burning hot she 
 became very weary, and he led her beneath a tree, 
 and she laid her head on his knee and fell asleep. 
 Then he saw how she had in her bosom a little 
 silken bag, and he lightly drew it forth and peered 
 within to see what it contained. Then, lo ! he found 
 three rings that he had sent her by her nurse. Afraid 
 of waking her, by replacing the bag, he laid it beside 
 him on a stone, when down swooped a raven and 
 
AIG UES MORTES AND MA G UEL ONNE. 233 
 
 carried it off. Peter at once folded his mantle, put it 
 under the head of the sleeping girl, and ran after the 
 bird, which flew to the sea and perched on a rock 
 above it. Peter threw a stone at the raven and 
 made it drop the bag into the water. Then he got 
 a boat, moored hard by, jumped into the boat and 
 went after the floating bag with the rings. But wind 
 and waves rose and brushed him out to sea, and 
 carried him across the Mediterranean to Alexandria, 
 where the Sultan made him his page. In the mean- 
 time the fair Maguelone awoke in the green wood, 
 and finding herself alone, ran about calling " Pierre ! 
 Pierre ! " but received no answer. She spent the night 
 in the forest, and then took the road to Rome, and 
 encountering a female pilgrim, exchanged clothes 
 with her. Maguelone pursued her journey, prayed 
 in S. Peter's Church at Rome, unnoticed by her 
 uncle, who, with great state, passed by her kneeling 
 there, and threw her alms. Then she went on to 
 Genoa, where she took boat to Aigues Mortes. 
 Hearing at this place that there was a little island off 
 the coast suitable for a hermitage, thither she went, 
 and with her jewels she had brought from Naples 
 built a little church and a hospital, in which she 
 ministered to sick people. The Countess of Melgueil, 
 hearing of the holy woman, came to visit her, and 
 won by her sympathy, with many tears told her how 
 she had lost her dear son Peter, who had gone to 
 Naples, and had not been heard of since. 
 
 One day, a fisherman caught a tunny, and brought 
 it as a present to the count. When the tunny was 
 opened, in its stomach was found a little bag that 
 
234 IN TROUBABOUR-LAND. 
 
 contained three rings. Now, no sooner did the 
 countess see these than she knew they were her 
 own, which she had given to Pierre, and she hasted 
 to tell the anchorite on the isle of the wondrous 
 discovery, and to show her the rings. It need hardly 
 be told that Maguelone also recognised them. 
 
 Now the Sultan of Alexandria had become so 
 attached to Peter, that he treated him as his own son, 
 and finally, at Peter's entreaty, allowed him to return to 
 Provence, having first extracted from him a promise 
 to come back to him. Peter carried with him a great 
 treasure in fourteen barrels, but to hide their contents 
 he filled up the tops with salt. Then he engaged with 
 a captain of a trader to convey him across to Provence. 
 Now one day the vessel stayed for water at a little 
 isle, called Sagona, and Peter went on shore, and the 
 sun being hot, lay down on the grass and fell asleep. 
 A wind sprang up. The sails were spread. The 
 captain called Peter. The men ran everywhere 
 searching for him, could not find him, and at length 
 were reluctantly obliged to sail without him. On 
 reaching Provence the captain was unwilling to retain 
 the goods of the lost man, and so gave them to the 
 holy woman who ministered to the sick in the hospital 
 she had built on a tiny islet off the coast. One day 
 when Maguelone was short of salt she went to fetch 
 some from the barrels given her by the ship's captain, 
 and to her amazement found under the salt an 
 incalculable treasure. With this she set to work to 
 rebuild the church and her hospital. 
 
 In the meantime, Peter awoke, and found himself 
 deserted. For some time he remained in the island, 
 
AIG UES MOR TES AND MA G UEL ONNE. 2 3 5 
 
 but from want of food and discouragement fell ill, and 
 would have died had not some fishermen, chancing to 
 come there, taken him into their boat. They consulted 
 what to do with the sick man, and one said that they 
 had best take him to Maguelone. On hearing the 
 name Peter asked what they meant. They told him 
 that this was the name given to a church and hospital 
 richly built and tended to by a holy woman, on the 
 coast of Provence. Peter then entreated them to 
 carry him to the place that bore so fair a name. So 
 he was conveyed, sick and feeble, into the hostel ; but 
 he was so changed with sickness that Maguelone did 
 not recognise him, and as she wore a veil he could not 
 see her face. 
 
 Now Maguelone, whenever she went by his bed 
 heard him sigh, so she stood still one day, spoke gently 
 to him, and asked what was his trouble. Then he told 
 her all his story, and how sad his heart was for his 
 dear Maguelone, whom he had lost, and might never 
 see again. She now knew him, and with effort 
 constrained her voice to bid him pray to God, with 
 whom all things are possible. And when she heard 
 him raise his voice in prayer with many sobs, she 
 could not contain herself, but ran off to the church, 
 and kneeling before the altar gave way also to tears, 
 but tears of joy mingled with psalms of thanksgiving. 
 Then she arose, and brought forth her royal robes, and 
 cast aside those of an anchorite, and bade that Pierre 
 should be given a bath and be clothed in princely garb. 
 After which he was introduced into her presence. Of 
 the joy of the recognition, of the restoration of the 
 lost son to his parents, of the happy wedding, no need 
 
236 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 that I should tell. The church and hostel of Mague- 
 lone remained ever after as testimony to the virtues 
 and piety of La Belle Maguelone, its foundress. 
 
 Such is the merest and baldest sketch of this 
 graceful tale, told by the very man .who cut the 
 inscription I copied from the door of the church, in 
 which he served as canon. When Vernon Lee says 
 of Provencal poetry that adultery — rank adultery was 
 what it lauded, we must not forget that there is 
 another side to be considered — and that the Provencal 
 poets turned their pens as well to drawing pure and 
 artless love. 
 
 The land and the old church are now the property 
 of a private gentleman, a M. Fabre, who has a great 
 love for the place. I remember the church, when I 
 was a child, full of hay and faggots. It is now 
 restored to sacred uses, but Mass is only said therein 
 once in the year. The proprietor has built a farm- 
 house near it, and has moved his children's bodies 
 to the old cathedral, and purposes to be laid there 
 himself, when his hour strikes — surrounded by waters : 
 the sea on one side, the great mere of Maguelonne on 
 the other. 
 
( 237 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 beziers and narbonne. 
 
 Position of Be'ziers — S. Nazaire — The Albigenses — Their tenets — 
 Albigensian " consolation " — Crusade against them — The 
 storming of Beziers — Massacre — Cathedral of Beziers — Girls' 
 faces in the train — Similar faces at Narbonne, in Cathedral 
 and Museum — Narbonne a Roman colony — All the Roman 
 buildings destroyed — Caps of liberty — 
 Christian sarcophagi — Children's toys of baked 
 clay — Cathedral unfinished — Archiepiscopal 
 Palace — Unsatisfactory work of M. Viollet- 
 le-Duc — In trouble with the police — Taken 
 for a German spy— My sketch-book gets me 
 off. 
 
 position of Beziers is striking. 
 It crowns a height above the 
 Orb, its grand fortified church 
 of S. Nazaire occupying the 
 highest point, where it stands 
 on a platform. This fine church is not the cathedral. 
 In La Madeleine is the bishop's throne, a church that, 
 with the exception of the tower and exterior of the 
 apse, has been modernised out of all interest. But 
 S. Nazaire is a stately and beautiful church of the 
 twelfth to the fourteenth century, in the style of the 
 country, very little ornamented externally, and very 
 
2 3 8 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 strongly fortified ; even the windows being made 
 impenetrable by their strong grilles of iron. There 
 are two western towers, small, with an arch thrown 
 between their battlements, over the rose window, and 
 this battlemented archway is in fact a screen behind 
 which the besieged sheltered whilst they poured down 
 molten pitch on those who assailed the gateway of the 
 cathedral. For this purpose there is an open space 
 between the screen and the facade. The apse of 
 eight sides, internally is fine ; and there is a beautiful 
 octagonal apsidal chapel on the north side, entered 
 from the transept. 
 
 Beziers is the scene of a horrible slaughter in 1 209, 
 after the siege by the Crusaders under Simon de 
 Montfort. It had been a headquarter of the Al- 
 bigenses. As we are now entering the region 
 reddened with the blood of these heretics, it will not 
 be improper here to give a little account of them. 
 
 The Albigenses are often erroneously confused with 
 the Waldenses, with whom really they had little in 
 common. Actually, the Albigenses were not Christians 
 at all, but Manicheans. The heresy was nothing 
 other than the reawakening of the dormant and 
 suppressed Paganism of the south of France. There 
 are plenty of documents which enable us to understand 
 their peculiar tenets and practices. 
 
 They held a dualism of good and evil principles in 
 the world, equally matched ; and they taught that the 
 evil principle was the origin of all created matter. 
 Accordingly they rejected the Old Testament, and 
 declared that all the world and man's body were of 
 diabolic origin, and that the spirit only was divine. 
 
BEZTERS AND NARB ONNE. 2 3 9 
 
 With regard to the person of Christ they were divided 
 in opinion. Some said He had a phantom body, and 
 that He seemed only to die on the cross. The real 
 Christ was incapable of suffering. But another school 
 among them declared that He had a true body born 
 of Mary and Joseph, and that this was due to the evil 
 principle, and that this body did hang on the cross. 
 It was the Evil God of the Jews who slew Pharaoh in 
 the Red Sea. They held that the Good God had two 
 wives, Colla and Coliba, from whom he had many 
 generations of spiritual beings. Of the Good Christ, 
 the spiritual, they asserted, that He neither ate nor 
 drank, that He was the source of all mercy and 
 salvation, but that the Bad Christ was the carnal one 
 following the Good Christ as the shadow follows the 
 body ; that this Bad Christ had Magdalen as his 
 concubine. They were not agreed as to the future of 
 man. Some denied the existence of souls, some said 
 that the souls were fallen angels inhabiting men's 
 bodies, others that the soul was pure and could only 
 attain to blessedness by emancipation from the body, 
 all the works of which were evil. 
 
 The faithful of the Albigenses were divided into 
 two orders, the "perfect," who wore a black dress, 
 abstained from flesh, eggs, cheese, and from marriage ; 
 and the " believers " whose salvation was to be attained 
 by a certain ceremony called the "consolation." This 
 sacrament of consolation was performed by one of the 
 perfect laying his hands on the believer ; and after 
 consolation, the newly-consoled must starve himself to 
 death. A great number of trials of Albigenses have 
 been collected by Limborch in his history of the 
 
2 4 o IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 Inquisition. One only can we now give. It is that 
 of a woman who had herself consoled, and sending for 
 a surgeon, ordered him to open her veins in a bath, 
 that so, the blood running out more freely, she might 
 sooner die. Also she bought poison, as the bleeding 
 did not succeed, and procured a cobbler's awl where- 
 with to pierce her heart, but as the women with her 
 were undecided whether the heart were on the right 
 side or the left, she took the poison, and so died.* 
 
 We can understand what alarm this great heathen 
 reaction in Provence and Aquitaine awoke in France, 
 and in the minds of the popes. 
 
 Innocent III. at first employed against the Albi- 
 genses only spiritual and legitimate weapons ; before 
 proscribing he tried to convert them, but when they 
 murdered his emissary, Peter de Castelnau, in 1208, 
 he proclaimed a Holy War against them. It was a 
 war undertaken on the plea of a personal crime, but in 
 reality for the dispossession of the native princes who 
 were believed to be in favour of the heresy. " The 
 crusade against the Albigensians," says M. Guizot, 
 "was the most striking application of two principles 
 
 * We have got the Acts of the Inquisition at Toulouse during 
 sixteen years, between 1307-1323. The whole number of cases 
 reported is 932. The usual sentence on one found guilty — unless 
 guilty of causing death by " consolation " — was to wear a tongue of 
 red cloth on the garments. Of such there are 174 sentences. If a 
 case of relapse, there was sentence of brief imprisonment, 218 cases; 
 38 were reported as having run away ; 40 were condemned to 
 death for having caused the death of dupes by "consolation;" 113 
 were let off penances previously imposed; 139 were discharged 
 from prison, and 90 sentences were pronounced against persons 
 already dead. See Maitland's Tracts and Documents on the 
 Albigenses, i83r. 
 
BEZ1ERS AND NARBONNE. 
 
 24] 
 
 equally false and fatal, which did as much evil to 
 the Catholics as to the heretics ; and these are the 
 right of the spiritual power to coerce souls by the 
 material force of the temporal power, and the right to 
 strip princes of their title to the obedience of their 
 subjects — in other words, denial of religious liberty to 
 consciences, and of political independence to states." 
 In 1208 Innocent summoned the King of France to 
 
 -S- 
 
 Beziers. — Church of S. Nazaire. 
 
 sweep from southern France these heretics, " worse 
 than the Saracens," and he promised to the leaders 
 of the crusade the domains they won of the princes 
 who favoured the heresy. The war lasted fifteen 
 years (from 120S to 1223) and of the two leading- 
 spirits, one ordering and the other executing, Pope 
 Innocent III. and Simon de Montfort, neither saw the 
 end of it. During the fifteen years of this religious 
 war, nearly all the towns and strong castles in the 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 regions between the Rhone, the Pyrenees, the Garonne 
 were taken, lost, retaken, given over to pillage, sack, 
 and massacre, and burnt by the Crusaders with all the 
 cruelty of fanatics and all the greed of conquerors. In 
 the account of the war by a Provencal poet, we are 
 told that God never made the clerk who could have 
 written the muster-roll of the crusading army in two 
 or even three months. One of the first victims was 
 
 the young and 
 of Beziers, who, 
 assures us, was a 
 whose lands and 
 cious horde lusted 
 they sat down 
 then the Catholics 
 made common 
 heretics, and re- 
 
 gallant Viscount 
 the same author 
 good Catholic, but 
 towns the rapa- 
 to acquire. When 
 before Beziers, 
 within the walls 
 cause with the 
 fused to surrender. 
 
 Fountain in the Cloister of S. Nazaire, Beziers. 
 
 Then the city was stormed, the walls scrambled up by 
 a rabble rout of camp-followers, in shirts and breeches, 
 but without shoes, who burst over the parapets whilst 
 the envoys of the town were being amused by mock 
 conferences with Montfort and the other leaders of the 
 crusading host. A general massacre ensued ; neither 
 age nor sex were spared, even priests fell. It is said 
 that news of what was being done was brought to 
 
BEZIERS AND NARBONNE. 243 
 
 Arnauld, Abbot of Citeaux, one of the commanders 
 of the crusade, and he was told that faithful and 
 heretics were being slaughtered alike. " Slay them 
 all," said he, " God will know His own." 
 
 The story is told by a contemporary, but only as an 
 on-dit, and may therefore be quite untrue. But Simon 
 de Montfort, the hero of the crusade, employed like 
 language. One day two heretics, taken at Castres, 
 were brought before him, one of whom was unshakable 
 in his belief, the other expressed himself open to 
 conviction. "Burn them both," said the count; "if 
 this fellow mean what he says, the fire will expiate his 
 sins ; and, if he lie, he will suffer for his imposture." 
 
 An attempt has been made to exculpate the leaders 
 of the crusade from the atrocities committed at the 
 capture of Beziers, and to clear them of the charge of 
 treachery. It is so far certain that the town was cap- 
 tured and the massacre begun by the camp-followers, 
 but the Crusaders soon joined in and accomplished 
 the work begun by the " ribauds ; " and no attempt 
 was made by the leaders to stay the carnage. In the 
 cathedral church of S. Madeleine some seven thousand 
 who had taken refuge there were butchered without 
 regard to the sanctity of the spot. The city was then 
 set on fire and the cathedral perished in the flames. 
 
 After all, it was well that the cathedral should be 
 purged with fire, and rebuilt. One could not pray, 
 one would not like to see the service of God rendered 
 in a building that had been thus bespattered with blood. 
 S. Nazaire is later. It was almost wholly rebuilt in 
 the fourteenth century, and within it one can forget 
 the horrors of that hateful siege and butchery. 
 
 r 2 
 
244 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 As I travelled on to Narbonne, there entered the 
 carriage in which I was two girls with remarkable pro- 
 files, and I wondered whether they bore the features of 
 the Ligurian race that first peopled all this coast, now 
 probably represented by the Basques — a race akin to 
 the Lap. These girls had fine dark eyes and hair, 
 sallow complexions, and their full faces were not 
 unpleasant, but their profiles were certainly most 
 remarkable. Now curiously enough, on entering the 
 cathedral at Narbonne, I saw a tomb of the eighteenth 
 century with mourners represented on it — some six to 
 
 Types of Faces, Narbonne. 
 
 Sixteenth-Century 
 Tomb in Cathedral. 
 
 Classic Bust in 
 Museum. 
 
 eight, and they had all the same type of face. Not 
 only so, but in the museum of the town is a Classic bust, 
 found among the remains of Roman Narbona, and the 
 same type is there. 
 
 Narbonne was once a great capital. It stood on a 
 lagoon, and did a large trade in the Mediterranean. 
 It was a Roman colony, founded at the same time as 
 Aries, and had its forum, capitol, baths, amphitheatre, 
 theatre, and temples. But, alas ! the necessity for 
 fortifying the city in the Middle Ages induced the 
 inhabitants to go to these Roman buildings and pull 
 them to pieces in order with them to construct the 
 
BEZIERS AND NARBONNE. 
 
 245 
 
 walls and towers surrounding the town, and now not 
 one of all these monuments remains. The walls have 
 served, however, as a rich quarry of antiquities that 
 have supplied the two great collections in the town, 
 one in the Hotel de Ville, the other in a ruined 
 church. These collections are only second to the 
 Avignon museum, and abound with objects of 
 interest. 
 
 Among the monumental stones for the dead are 
 several with caps figured on them. The like are to 
 be seen at Nimes, Avignon, and elsewhere. These 
 are freedmen's caps. When 
 a noble Roman died he left 
 in his will that so many 
 of his slaves were to be 
 given their liberty, and then 
 this was represented by caps 
 sculptured on his tombstone. 
 Thus it happened that 
 the cap came to be regarded 
 as the symbol of liberty, 
 a Christian sarcophagus on 
 orante, a woman praying with uplifted hands in the 
 midst, on the sides the striking of the rock and the 
 multiplication of the loaves. On the lid is the portrait 
 of the lady who was buried in it, with hair dressed 
 in the fashion worn by the Julias of the Heliogabalus 
 and Alexander Severus epoch, with whose busts one 
 becomes so familiar at Rome, 218-223— a fashion 
 that never came in again, that I am aware of. 
 Another Christian sarcophagus has on it the multipli- 
 cation of loaves, the denial of Peter, and a representa- 
 
 Freedmen's Caps, Narbonnj 
 
 The 
 
 the 
 
 museum 
 staircase, 
 
 contains 
 with an 
 
246 IN TROUBADOUR-IAND. 
 
 tion of Christ unbearded, which is the earliest form. 
 Another, again, represents him unbearded holding a 
 scroll, on the right St. Peter and two other apostles 
 holding rolls, and three apostles on the left ; on the 
 lid is an orante. 
 
 In this museum may be seen one or two examples 
 of bronze Gaulish sun-wheels with four and eight 
 spokes ; and, what is to me very touching, a 
 number of children's toys made in clay, found in 
 children's tombs — cocks and hens, pigs and horses, 
 very rude. Similar toys are to be found in the Aries 
 and the Avignon museums. I remember in the 
 catacomb of S. Agnes at Rome is a whole collection 
 of toys found in a Christian 
 grave there, ivory dolls, a 
 rattle, bells, and an earthen- 
 ware money-box, just such 
 
 Children's Toys in the as may be bought for a SOU 
 Museum, Narbonne. . r r . -,-. 
 
 now in a foreign fair. De 
 Rossi, the curator of the catacombs, has had them all 
 put together under glass in proximity to the little grave 
 where they were found. In a child's grave at S. 
 Sebastian was found a little terra-cotta horse dappled 
 with yellow spots. I suppose parents could not bear 
 to see the toys of their darlings about the house, and 
 so enclosed them with their dear ones in the last home. 
 I remember a modern French grave, near La Rochelle ; 
 in the centre of the head-cross was a glass case, with a 
 doll dinner-service enclosed, that had been a favourite 
 toy with the poor little mite lying under the cross. 
 So human hearts are the same as centuries roll by and 
 religions alter. 
 
BEZIERS AND NARBONNE. 247 
 
 The cathedral of Narbonne is very delightful, after 
 a course of castellated fortress-churches of early date. 
 It is of the fourteenth century, light, lantern-like, with 
 glorious flying buttresses. 
 
 The church is unfinished, it has no nave, only the 
 lovely soaring choir, standing alone, like that of Beau- 
 vais ; and as was that of Cologne till the last thirty 
 years. Unfortunately this choir is so built round with 
 houses that it is only in one place at the east end that 
 it can be seen, and just there, out of delightful play of 
 fancy, the architect has thrown a bow across from one 
 flying buttress to another high up, and through this 
 stone rainbow one sees the pinnacles and the sweeping 
 arches of the buttresses crossing each other at every 
 angle. 
 
 The archiepiscopal palace was a fortress, with two 
 strong towers. M. Viollet-le-Duc was invited by the 
 town to take them in hand and construct between them 
 a facade in keeping with their architecture, which was 
 to be thenceforth the facade of the Hotel de Ville. 
 There was not a man in France who had a more 
 intimate knowledge of Gothic architecture than he ; 
 but, unfortunately, like Rickman in England and 
 Heideloff in Germany, he was incapable of applying 
 his knowledge. The consequence is that he has pro- 
 duced a facade which is disfiguring to the two grand 
 towers between which it is planted. Viollet-le-Duc was 
 delighted with the grand effect of the face of the papal 
 palace at Avignon, where the buttresses run up un- 
 staged and then are united by bold arches that sustain 
 the parapet and battlements, so he attempted the same 
 thing at Narbonne on a smaller scale. Now these 
 
24S IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 buttresses or piers at Avignon are 5 ft. 1 in. by 2 ft. 
 9 in., whereas the measurements of M. le-Duc's little 
 props are reduced to 1 ft. 2 in. by 1 ft. 6 in. Relative 
 proportions are changed as well as sadly reduced. 
 The result is that they are ludicrous. Moreover, 
 instead of sinking his fagade modestly — a little, eighteen 
 inches would have been enough — he has carried the face 
 of his niggling little buttresses flush with the massive 
 walls of the great towers. I wished I could have had 
 M. Viollet-le-Duc there by both his ears and knocked 
 his head against the abomination he has created. He 
 had a splendid opportunity, and through incapacity he 
 lost it. 
 
 I got into trouble at Narbonne. 
 
 As I was walking on the platform of the station, a 
 man in plain clothes with very blue eyes came to me, 
 touched his hat, and asked if he might be honoured 
 with a few words privately. I at once suspected he 
 was going to beg or borrow money, and said I was 
 willing to hear what he wanted to say on the spot. 
 He smiled, and said that he thought perhaps it would 
 be better that we had our conversation elsewhere, out- 
 side the station. After a little hesitation, I complied, 
 and when we were by ourselves, " Monsieur," said he, 
 " I must request you to show me your papers and 
 allow me to identify you. I am in search of some one 
 uncommonly like yourself. I am — the chef of the 
 secret police down here. Will you come to my office, 
 and bring your luggage ? " 
 
 " Certainly, delighted to make your acquaintance. I 
 will get my Gladstone bag, and my roll of rugs in a 
 moment. There is a — a hurdy-gurdy " 
 
BEZIERS AND NARBONNE. 249 
 
 " I know there is," said the chef sternly. "It is 
 that vielle that is suspicious." 
 
 So all my luggage was conveyed to the office of the 
 police. I showed no concern, but laughed and joked. 
 
 "What countryman do you say you are ?" 
 
 " English." 
 
 " Impossible. You have not the English accent 
 when you speak. It is rather German than anything 
 else." 
 
 " You think I am a German ? " 
 
 " But certainly. Your bag has a German address on 
 it, written in German characters." So it had. I had 
 been in Germany before going to Rome, and had never 
 removed the address, which, as he said, was in German 
 characters. I explained, but the chef was unsatisfied. 
 I became now convinced that he thought I was a spy. 
 
 " Here are German newspapers and a German book 
 in your bag ! " said the chef. 
 
 " Certainly. Why not ? I have been in 
 Germany." 
 
 " Yet you say you are English ? " 
 
 " Here is my passport." I extended one to him, 
 He looked at it, shook his head, and said: "It is a 
 very old one of 1867." That was true, and I had not 
 had it visdd since. 
 
 " Then," said the chef " this passport is for you and 
 your wife. Where is the wife ? " 
 
 " Minding the babies. Thirteen of them — a hand- 
 ful," said I. 
 
 I had to produce card-case, letters, all of which the 
 chef examined carefully, and yet he was not satisfied. 
 Then, suddenly, a bright idea struck me. 
 
250 IN TRO UBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 " Monsieur ! " said I, " I see what you take me to be. 
 It is true I have been sketching in Narbonne, and 
 along the whole coast. Would you like to see my 
 drawings ? Here is the result of my studies in Nar- 
 bonne : the very remarkable profile of a Narbonnaise 
 girl, the face of a lady carved in the cathedral, of 
 another in the museum, some sketches of children's clay 
 toys found in Roman tombs, and sundry Gaulish and 
 Merovingian bronzes ; also ! yes, see, a bone toothcomb 
 discovered among the remains of the fortifications." 
 
 The chef laughed, especially over the beauties of 
 Narbonne, ran his eye through the book, took it over 
 to his assistant to look at and laugh over the wonderful 
 girls' faces, returned it to me, and let me off. 
 
 "And the vielle" said I, "what do you think of 
 that " 
 
 " Mais ! with the vielle over your shoulder, and that 
 book of sketches and thirteen babies — assuriment — 
 you could only be an Englishman." 
 
( 25i ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CARCASSONNE. 
 
 Siege of Carcassonne by the Crusaders- 
 
 Capture — Perfidy of legate 
 — Death of the Viscount 
 — Continuation of the 
 war — Churches of New 
 Carcassonne — La Cite — 
 A perfect Mediaeval 
 fortified town — Disap- 
 pointing — Visigoth forti- 
 fications — Later addi- 
 tions — The Cathedral — 
 Tomb of Simon de Mont- 
 fort. 
 
 Viscount of 
 B e z i e rs 
 was not 
 in the city 
 
 from which he took his title when it fell. He had 
 hurried on to Carcassonne to prepare that for defence. 
 There he exerted himself with the utmost energy, with 
 rage and despair, to be ready against the blood- 
 thirsty, and yet blood-drunken ruffians who were pouring 
 
252 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 along the road from smoking Beziers, to do to Carcas- 
 sonne as they had done there. Pedro, king of Aragon, 
 interfered ; he appeared as mediator in the camp of the 
 Crusaders. Carcassonne was held as a fief under him as 
 lord paramount. He pleaded the youth of the viscount, 
 asserted his fidelity to the Church, his abhorrence of the 
 Albigensian heresy ; it was no fault of his, he argued, 
 that his subjects had lapsed into error, and he declared 
 that the Viscount had authorised him to place his sub- 
 
 TOWERS ON THE WALL, CARCASSONNE. 
 
 mission in the hands of the legate of Pope Innocent. 
 But the Crusaders were snorting for plunder and 
 murder. The only terms they would admit were that 
 the young viscount might retire with twelve knights ; 
 the city must surrender at discretion. The proud and 
 gallant youth declared that he had rather be flayed 
 alive than desert the least of his subjects. The first 
 assaults, though on one occasion led by the prelates 
 chanting the ' Veni Creator ' ended in failure. 
 
 Carcassonne might have resisted successfully had it 
 
CARCASSONNE. 253 
 
 been properly provisioned, or had the viscount limited 
 the number admitted within its walls. But multitudes 
 of refugees had come there from all the country round. 
 The wells failed. Disease broke out. The viscount 
 was obliged to come to terms, to accept a free conduct 
 from the officer of the legate, and he endeavoured to 
 make terms for his subjects. 
 
 Most of the troops made their escape by subter- 
 ranean passages, and the defenceless city came into the 
 power of the Crusaders. The citizens were stripped 
 almost naked, and their houses given up to pillage, but 
 their lives were spared, with the exception of some 
 fifty who were hanged and four hundred who were 
 burned alive. The viscount had given himself up on 
 promise of safe conduct ; but no promises, no oaths 
 were held sacred in these wars of religion, and the 
 perfidious legate seized him, cast him into a dungeon, 
 and there he died a few months later of a broken spirit 
 and the pestilential prison air. 
 
 The law of conquest was now to be put in force. 
 The lands of the heretic the Pope was ready to bestow 
 on such as had dutifully done his behest. The legate 
 assembled the principal crusading nobles, that they 
 might choose among them one to act as lord over 
 their conquests. The offer was made, successively, to 
 the Duke of Burgundy, the Count of Nevers, and the 
 Count of S. Pol ; but they all three declined, saying 
 scornfully that they had lands enough of their own 
 without taking those of another. They were, perhaps, 
 fearful of the perilous example of setting up the fiefs 
 of France to the hazard of the sword. Simon de 
 INIontfort was less scrupulous, or more ambitious, and 
 
254 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 he took immediate possession of the lands that had 
 been acquired. The Pope wrote to him and confirmed 
 him in the hereditary possession of his new dominions, 
 at the same time expressing to him a hope that, in 
 concert with the legates, he would continue very 
 zealous in the extirpation of the heretics. 
 
 From this time forth the war in southern France 
 changed character, or, rather, it assumed a double 
 character ; with the war of religion was openly joined 
 a war of conquest ; it was no longer merely against 
 the Albigenses and their heresies, it was against the 
 native princes of the south of France, for the sake of 
 their dominions, that the crusade was prosecuted. 
 
 If it came within my scope to speak about Toulouse, 
 I should be constrained to tell more of this sanguinary 
 story. I am thankful that I need not prosecute the 
 hateful tale ; but so much it was not possible for me to 
 withhold from the reader, as it is with these memories 
 that Carcassonne and Beziers must be visited and 
 looked at. 
 
 Carcassonne is a double city, a city on a hill and 
 another on the plain, each ancient, but that below with 
 the modern element leavening it, that above wholly 
 steeped in medievalism. 
 
 In the lower town are two fine churches, very 
 peculiar in design, forming vast halls without pillars, 
 and with small chancels and apses. There can be no 
 question that they look uncomfortable without pillars, 
 that the choir does not grow out of the church 
 naturally, and is devoid of dignity. These two 
 churches are S. Vincent and S. Michael. The latter 
 is of the thirteenth century, and seems to have formed 
 

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CARCASSONNE. 255 
 
 the pattern upon which the other was built in the 
 fourteenth and sixteenth centuries. There is no west 
 portal, but it has a fine rose window. The church is 
 entered by a small door on the north. The other and 
 later church, S. Vincent, has a very fine tower, which 
 has, unfortunately, not been completed. It also has 
 no west door, and is entered by a small portal at the 
 side. These churches have their lateral chapels 
 arranged like those in the cathedral at Munich 
 between the buttresses, and the church is lighted by 
 windows above them. Such buildings make admirable 
 preaching-halls, but as churches are not pleasing 
 internally. 
 
 To the east of New Carcassonne flows the river 
 Aude crossed by a bridge, with a quaint little chapel 
 recently restored beside it. From this bridge a view 
 of Old Carcassonne, La Cite, as it is called, bursts on 
 the sight. It stands on a height about 125 ft. above 
 the river, and this height has two peaks, one is 
 occupied by the citadel, the other by the old cathedral 
 of S. Nazaire. 
 
 The whole of this Cite is surrounded by its walls 
 and towers, quite as perfect as when originally built, for 
 they have been very carefully restored by M. Viollet- 
 le-Duc. Consequently we have before us a French 
 fortified town of the Middle Ages come down to us 
 unaltered. That it is picturesque is unquestionable, 
 that it is eminently picturesque cannot be allowed. 
 The builders had no concern for making a beautiful 
 picture, they thought only of making an impregnable 
 place. It is precisely this that differentiates it from a 
 score of German fortified towns. The burghers of 
 
256 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 these latter were resolved to make their towns miracles 
 of beauty as well as strong places. Consequently they 
 varied the shapes of their towers, they capped them 
 quaintly, hardly making two alike. Here, at Carcas- 
 sonne, every tower, or nearly every tower, resembles 
 its fellow, and all have sugar-loaf caps that irritate the 
 eye with iteration of the same form. The citadel has 
 
 no character of 
 massiveness, no 
 grand donjon 
 to distinguish 
 it from the rest 
 of the fortifi- 
 cations, and the 
 cathedral has 
 only two mean 
 little donkey's 
 ears of towers 
 that are most 
 i ne ffe c t i v e , 
 peeping over 
 the walls of the 
 south - western 
 angle of the 
 town. In look- 
 ing out for a study for a picture one has to get where 
 some of the sugar-loaf towers are eclipsed, and there 
 is only one point in the whole circumference where 
 a really satisfactory grouping is obtainable, and 
 that is at the angle outside immediately below the 
 cathedral platform to the west, where the one re- 
 spectable turret of the castle stands up boldly from 
 
CARCASSONNE. 257 
 
 the rock, and the flanking turrets overlap and hide each 
 other. 
 
 Interesting, most interesting is Old Carcassonne, 
 and picturesque in its fashion ; the regret one feels is 
 that, with its opportunities, it is not more so. I do not 
 think that M. Viollet-le-Duc's restoration is in fault, 
 but that the original architects had no idea of anything 
 better, were men of mediocre abilities, or cared only to 
 make the defences strong at all costs, and to sacrifice 
 everything else to this one consideration. 
 
 But the same fault is inherent in all French castle- 
 building and city-fortification of the Middle Ages. It 
 is picturesque when in ruins. On the other hand, 
 the German castles and fortified towns look their 
 very best when in perfect repair. Let the reader 
 take up Albert Diirer's delightful little engraving 
 of the Hermit, and compare the background of a 
 German walled town and castle on a height with La 
 Cite, Carcassonne, and he will see how vast is the 
 difference in quality of picturesqueness between the 
 two. 
 
 The CiU is actually enclosed within double 
 ramparts, and a portion of these dates from the time 
 of the Visigoths. Their walls were composed of cubic 
 blocks of stone, with alternate layers of brick, were 
 double-faced, and filled in with rubble bedded in lime, 
 forming a sort of concrete core. The towers were 
 round outside with flat face to the town, and large 
 round-headed windows which were closed with boards. 
 These in later times were built up. The interior walls 
 and towers are the earliest, and were those besieged by 
 the Crusaders. It was in one of the towers of the 
 
 s 
 
258 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 
 Inside the Wall, Carcassonne. 
 
 castle that the unhappy 
 young viscount died. 
 The outer fortifications 
 were erected by Louis 
 IX. and his son, Philip 
 the Bold. The Visigoth 
 walls were defended by 
 thirty-two towers, of 
 w r hich only one was 
 square. Louis IX. con- 
 structed a great barbican 
 below the castle, com- 
 manding the bridge over 
 the Aude, but that was 
 destroyed some years 
 ago. 
 
 The Citi underwent a 
 second siege in 1240, 
 whilst Louis IX. was on 
 his crusade, and Queen 
 Blanche was regent. 
 Very curious letters exist 
 from Guillaume des 
 Ormes, the seneschal to 
 the regent, describing the 
 siege of Carcassonne by 
 the troops of the vis- 
 count ; but for these, and 
 for a detailed account of 
 the fortifications, I must 
 refer the reader to M. 
 Viollet-le-Duc's account, 
 
CARCASSONNE. 
 
 259 
 
 in his treatise on the Military Architecture of the 
 Middle Ages. 
 
 The old town of Carcassonne, crowded within the 
 walls, has very narrow streets and tiny squares ; the 
 only open space being before the citadel and the 
 cathedral. This latter has a fine Romanesque nave 
 that was consecrated by Pope Urban II. in 1096, with 
 its west end designed 
 for defence, after the 
 customary manner in 
 the south. It is sup- 
 ported by massive piers, 
 alternately round and 
 square. To this plain 
 nave is added a light 
 and lovely choir with 
 transepts, of the be- 
 ginning of the four- 
 teenth century. Here 
 the glorious windows 
 are filled with rich old 
 stained glass — bar- 
 barously restored. And 
 here, on one side of the 
 high altar may be seen a slab of red marble — rightly 
 blood-red— marking the tomb of the infamous 
 Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, the cruel and 
 remorseless right hand of the Pope, with which this 
 fair region was deluged with blood. He was killed 
 on June 20th, 12 18, by a stone Hung from the walls of 
 Toulouse, which he had been unsuccessfully besieging 
 for nine months. From the south side of the old CiU 
 
 Entrance to the Castle, Carcasson? 
 
 S 2 
 
2 6o IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 a delightful view is obtained of the Pyrenees, snow- 
 clad when I was there in April ; but the mountain 
 forms of the chain as it approaches the Mediterranean 
 lose boldness and picturesqueness of outline, as they 
 also dwindle in altitude. 
 
( *6i ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AVIGNON. 
 
 How Avignon passed to the Popes — The court of Clement VI. — 
 John XXII. — Benedict XII. — Their tombs — Petrarch and Laura 
 
 — The Palace of the Popes — 
 The Salle Brulee— Cathedral 
 — Porch — S. Agricole — 
 Church of S. Pierre— The 
 museum — View from the 
 Rocher des doms — The 
 Rhone — The bridge — Story 
 of S. Benezet — Dancing on 
 bridges — Villeneuve — Tomb 
 of Innocent VI. — The Castle 
 at Villeneuve— Defences — 
 Tete-du-pont of the bridge. 
 
 leave Languedoc and 
 are again in Provence, 
 or what was Provence, 
 till the Popes by a fraud 
 obtained it. Avignon belonged to Provence, which 
 was claimed by Charles of Anjou in right of his wife, 
 and it had descended to his son, Charles II. of Naples. 
 On the death of the latter it fell to Robert of Naples, 
 and from him to his grand-daughter, Joanna, the heiress 
 of the Duke of Calabria. 
 
 The Papal residence was now at Avignon, and 
 
262 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 there it remained for a century and a quarter. 
 Joanna fell into trouble, her kingdom of Naples was 
 invaded by Louis, King of Hungary, who asserted 
 his right to her throne. She fled to Provence — to 
 Avignon — where at once Pope Clement VI. seized the 
 occasion to purchase this portion of her Provencal 
 inheritance of her at the price of eighty thousand gold 
 crowns. He kept the principality, but never paid the 
 money. 
 
 The Popes have left their indelible mark on the 
 place in the glorious palace, a vast castle, of the 
 boldest structure, wonderful in its size and 
 massiveness. 
 
 The Papal court at Avignon, under Clement VI., 
 " became," says Dr. Milman, " the most splendid, 
 perhaps the gayest, in Christendom. The Provencals 
 might almost think their brilliant and chivalrous 
 counts restored to power and enjoyment. The Papal 
 palace spread out in extent and magnificence ; the 
 Pope was more than royal in the number and attire of 
 his retainers ; the papal stud of horses commanded 
 general admiration. The life of Clement was a con- 
 stant succession of ecclesiastical pomps and gorgeous 
 receptions and luxurious banquets. Ladies were 
 freely admitted to the Court, and the Pope mingled 
 with ease in the gallant intercourse. The Countess of 
 Turenne, if not, as general report averred, actually 
 so, had at least many of the advantages of the 
 Pope's mistresses — the distribution of preferments 
 and benefices to any extent, which this woman, as 
 rapacious as she was handsome and imperious, sold 
 with shameless publicity." 
 
AVIGNON. 263 
 
 Under the Papal rule, with such an example before 
 it, Avignon became the moral sink of Christendom. 
 To see what its condition was, and how flagrant was 
 the vice in all quarters, the letters of Petrarch must be 
 read. He speaks of the corruption of Avignon with 
 loathing abhorrence ; Rome itself, in comparison, was 
 the seat of matronly virtue. 
 
 But I must step back for a moment to John XXII. 
 because of the lovely monument to him in the 
 cathedral, and because thereon we have his authentic 
 portrait. 
 
 This Pope was a cobbler's son of Cahors ; he was a 
 small, deformed, but clever man : the second cobbler's 
 son who sat on the seat of S. Peter. He had gone, 
 when a youth, to Naples, where his uncle was settled 
 in a little shop. There he studied, his talents and luck 
 pushed him into notice, and he became bishop of 
 Frejus. But he preferred to live on the sunny shores 
 of Naples, and to keep within the circle of the king, 
 where lay chances of higher preferment, and he 
 troubled his diocese little with his presence. He 
 became a cardinal, and in 13 16 was elected Pope at the 
 conclave of Lyons. He at once dropped down the 
 Rhone, and fixed the seat of his pontificate at 
 Avignon. Able, learned though he was, he was not 
 above the superstitions of his age. He had been 
 given a serpentine ring by the Countess of Foix, and 
 had lost it. He believed that it had been stolen from 
 him wherewith to work some magic spell against his 
 health. The Pope pledged all his goods, movable 
 and immovable, for the safe restoration of his ring : 
 he pronounced anathema against all such as were 
 
264 
 
 IN TR O UBADO UR-IAND. 
 
 involved in the retention of it. It was rumoured that 
 one of those involved in the plot by witchcraft to cause 
 his death through this serpentine ring was Gerold, 
 bishop of his own native city, Cahors. The alarmed 
 and angry sovereign Pontiff had the unhappy bishop 
 degraded, flayed alive, and torn to pieces by wild 
 horses. 
 
 John XXII. issued an edict of terrible condem- 
 nation against all such as dealt in 
 magical arts, who bottled up spirits, 
 made waxen images and stuck pins 
 into them, and the 
 like. He died at 
 the age of ninety, 
 having amassed 
 enormous wealth by 
 drawing into his 
 own power all the 
 > collegiate benefices 
 r/ throughout Chris- 
 tendom, and by 
 
 PArAL Throne in the Cathedral of means of reserva- 
 
 AVIGNON. 
 
 tions, an ingenious 
 mode of getting large pickings out of every 
 bishopric before the institution of a new bishop. 
 The brother of Villani the historian, a banker, took 
 the inventory of his goods when he was dead. It 
 amounted to eighteen millions of gold florins in specie, 
 and seven millions in plate and jewels. His face, on 
 his monument, is indicative of his harsh, grasping, and 
 cold character. 
 
 Now look at this other face, it is that of the 
 
A VIGNON. 
 
 265 
 
 John XXII. 
 
 successor of John, of James Fournier, who took the 
 name of Benedict XII. He lies in the north aisle of 
 the cathedral. 
 
 On the death of John XII. twenty-four cardinals 
 met, mostly Frenchmen, and their 
 votes inclined to a brother of the 
 count of Comminges, but they 
 endeavoured to wring from him an 
 oath to continue to make Avignon 
 the seat of the Papacy. He refused ; 
 and then, to his own surprise, the 
 suffrages fell on the Cistercian abbot, 
 James Fournier. 
 
 "You have chosen an ass ! " he said, in humility or 
 in irony. 
 
 But he did himself an injustice : he was a man of 
 shrewdness and sagacity, he lacked only courage and 
 strength to have made a great 
 Pope. His whole reign was a 
 tacit reproach against the 
 turbulence, implacability and 
 avarice of his predecessor. 
 The court of Avignon was 
 crowded with fawning courtier 
 bishops seeking promotion : he 
 
 sent them flying back to their sees. He discouraged 
 the Papal reserves, the iniquitous system whereby 
 Pope John had amassed his wealth ; he threw 
 open the treasury of his predecessor, and distributed 
 some of the coin among the cardinals, the rest he 
 spent in the erection of the huge castle-palace that is 
 now the wonder of all who visit Avignon, and the 
 
2 66 
 
 IN TROUBADO UR-IA ND. 
 
 construction of which made the money circulate among 
 
 the poor and industrious artificers. 
 
 When Benedict died, after a brief reign of eight 
 
 years, his reputation was disputed over with singular 
 
 pertinacity by friends and foes. 
 
 "He was a man wiser in speech than in action, 
 
 betraying by his keen words that he saw what was 
 just and right, but dared not 
 follow it. Yet political 
 courage alone was wanting. 
 He was resolutely superior 
 to the Papal vice of nepotism. 
 On one only of his family, 
 and that a deserving man, 
 he bestowed a rich benefice. 
 To the rest he said, ' As 
 James Fournier I knew you 
 well, as Pope I know you not. 
 I will not put myself in the 
 power of the King of France 
 by encumbering myself with a 
 host of needy relatives.' He 
 had the moral fortitude to 
 incur unpopularity with the 
 clergy by persisting in his 
 
 slow, cautious, and regular distribution of benefices ; 
 
 with the monks by his rigid reforms. He hated the 
 
 monks, and even the Mendicant Orders. He showed 
 
 his hatred, as they said, by the few promotions which 
 
 he bestowed upon them."* 
 
 The bitter hatred begotten in return was displayed 
 
 * Milman : ' Latin Christianity.' 
 
 An Angle of the Papal 
 Palace, Avignon. 
 
AVIGNON. 267 
 
 in the epitaph set up over him, describing him as a 
 Nero, as death to the laity, a viper to the clergy, a 
 liar and a drunkard.* But malignity of disappointed 
 ambition and repressed vice did not go so far as to 
 caricature his face. The graver had to copy the 
 epitaph given him, but the sculptor reproduced the 
 face of the man himself, and that face, sweet, gentle, 
 and pure, tells its own tale. It is quite another face 
 from that of John XXII. John has a magnificent 
 shrine of incomparable Gothic pinnacle-work ; but 
 Benedict is laid in a very humble tomb, yet over it is 
 the best of monuments, his own good face. Of this 
 "Nero" there is not recorded one single act of 
 cruelty ; and he was guiltless of human blood shed 
 in war. 
 
 Here, at Avignon, and writing of the very epoch 
 in which he lived, it is not possible to withhold the pen 
 from some lines relative to Petrarch, and I feel the 
 more disposed to write about him, for I think that the 
 words used relative to him and Laura in Murray's 
 Handbook are not quite just. Speaking of Vaucluse, 
 the author says : " It is more agreeable to contemplate 
 Petrarch in these haunts, as the laborious student 
 retired from the world, than as the mawkish lover 
 sighing for a married mistress." 
 
 Petrarch was an exile, living at Avignon in exile, 
 when he saw his Laura in a church there, and lost his 
 heart. He was then aged twenty-one, and she was 
 twelve or thirteen ; she belonged to the illustrious 
 family of Sade. Now it so happens that the chief 
 
 * " Ille fuit Nero, laicis mors, vipera clero, 
 Devius a vero, cuppa repleta mero.' ' 
 
268 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 authority for the history of Petrarch is the Abbe de 
 Sade, who set to work with a determination to show 
 that his family were lineal descendants of Petrarch's 
 Laura, and he ingenuously left out such particulars as 
 militated against his doctrine. The great family of 
 Sade, who had their castle between Avignon and 
 Vaucluse, had not the smallest intention of suffering a 
 daughter of the house to become allied to an exile of 
 no great birth and prospects ; accordingly every im- 
 pediment was put in the way of a meeting. Petrarch's 
 love for her was well known, indeed his imprudence 
 was great, he allowed his poems in her honour to pass 
 from hand to hand. It was impossible for her relatives 
 to suffer this to continue. She was placed with her 
 aunt Stephanette de Romanie ; and died unmarried. 
 Her father was Hugo de Sade, and her mother Laura 
 de Neves ; and the Abbe de Sade, and all who follow 
 him, suppose that Petrarch was in love with the 
 mother, whereas there is abundant evidence that the 
 object of his passion was the daughter.* 
 
 Whether Petrarch's love for Laura was as pure as 
 he represents it in some of his sonnets — whether the 
 unhappy Laura did not suffer from his pursuit in 
 honour as she certainly lost in repute, is uncertain. 
 Petrarch in some of his poems exalts his passion for her 
 into the most pure platonic affection, but other verses 
 addressed to her have a very different complexion. 
 
 The vast fortress-palace of the Popes at Avignon has 
 stood a siege. It was at the time of the Great Schism, 
 
 * The whole matter has been thoroughly discussed, and I think 
 the story of his love for the wife of Hugo de Sade refuted by 
 Bruce-Whyte (' Hist, des Langues Romanes,' t. iii. c. 38). 
 
A VIGNON. 
 
 269 
 
 when three grey-headed claimants to be representa- 
 tives of S. Peter and Vicegerents of Christ were 
 thundering anathemas against each other and the 
 supporters of their rivals. Benedict XIII. was then 
 Pope in Avignon, but there was a general desire in 
 Christendom that the scandal should be terminated. 
 All his cardinals except two deserted Benedict, and 
 the King of France re- 
 quired his renunciation of 
 the tiara. " Pope I have 
 written myself; Pope I 
 have been acknowledged to 
 be ; Pope I will remain to 
 the end of my days," was 
 his answer. Then he was 
 besieged in his palace and 
 forced to capitulate, and 
 thrown into prison, where 
 he lingered under the 
 jealous ward of the cardinals 
 for five years. 
 
 The palace has been re- 
 stored, and is now a barrack. 
 
 In it is shown a hall, the principal dining hall, called 
 now la Salle Brulee, as in 1441 the Papal Legate 
 brought together into it the burghers and nobles of 
 Avignon, and in the height of revelry withdrew him- 
 self, and had fire applied to barrels of gunpowder 
 under it, and blew the guests into the air. This was 
 done in revenge for the murder of his nephew, a 
 young libertine who had dishonoured a maiden of 
 good family in the town. 
 
 Lantern at the Cathedral, 
 Avignon. 
 
270 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 Adjoining the palace, on higher ground, the Rocher 
 des doms, is the cathedral of Notre Dame, small and 
 early. With barbarous taste, the fine Romanesque 
 west tower has been finished off with an octagonal 
 structure supporting as apex a gigantic figure of the 
 Virgin, leaning against a lightning conductor that is 
 screwed into her head and back, and looks much like 
 the apparatus of a photographer to 
 steady her for a successful carte. 
 To the cathedral ascent is made by 
 flights of stone steps, and it is entered 
 by a porch that is made up of 
 Corinthian pillars taken from a 
 Classic temple. Some have thought 
 the whole porch to be of Roman 
 architecture, but it is not so. For 
 some time Provencal architecture 
 was much influenced by the remains 
 that covered the soil, and from which 
 the builders of churches not merely 
 drew their ideas but also appropriated 
 materials. 
 
 The dome of the cathedral is 
 noticeable within from the bold and 
 effective manner in which it is sustained on four 
 successive receding arches. There is a fine north 
 aisle, the vaulting of which starts as though it were 
 about to spread into the fan-tracery of English 
 Perpendicular. It is curious as showing French archi- 
 tects on the eve of reaching the same marvellous 
 development attained in England. 
 
 There is a fine church at Avignon, S. Agricole, of 
 
 Angel at W. Door, 
 
 Church of S. 
 
 Agricole. 
 
A VIGNON. 
 
 271 
 
 noble proportions, the vaulting and arcades springing 
 from the pillars without capitals. In the south aisle 
 is a curious fourteenth-century shrine. The west 
 front of the church is of very poor design. 
 
 S. Pierre is a flamboyant church, the details passing 
 into Renaissance. In the north aisle is a superb 
 Renaissance altar-piece, representing Christ between 
 S.Peterand S.Paul. 
 Underneath is the A-f^t% 
 
 [/■-JjflfK ■-",,,, ■ 
 
 Last Supper. It 
 was too fine and 
 good to be ap- 
 preciated, and a 
 modern vulgar altar 
 and altar-piece have 
 been erected at the side for 
 use. The choir-stalls are 
 really wonderful. They are 
 also of Renaissance wood- 
 work, with painted panels in 
 the back representing archi- 
 tectural scenes alternating 
 with vases of flowers. They 
 are separated by Corinthian 
 columns gilt, and very sumptuous, yet the whole effect 
 is subdued and pleasing, not gaudy. In this church 
 also the arches spring from the pillars without capitals. 
 Altogether this church deserves careful study. 
 
 The museum of Avignon is the richest in an- 
 tiquities in the south of France. Unfortunately 
 the substance of the collection was gathered by 
 a M. Calvert who made no note as to where 
 
 A Bit of the Old Wall, 
 Avignon. 
 
2 7 2 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 he got the various articles he collected, and 
 this naturally deprives much that is there of its 
 value. However, there is a great deal there to be 
 seen ; notably a bronze cavalry standard, Roman, in 
 admirable preservation ; a stamp in bronze with the 
 letters % \. and the seven-branched-candlestick between, 
 clearly a Jewish stamp. A magnificent gold necklace 
 and gold bracelets with a large medallion of a 
 Roman Empress in gold in the midst. The head is 
 said to be that of Orbiana, third wife of Severus 
 Alexander, unknown to history, and known only by 
 her coins. 
 
 Among the statues preserved there is the Venus 
 Victrix found at Pourrieres, and a very rude but 
 interesting Gaulish warrior, discovered at Montdragon 
 in 1834, cut in sandstone. He is leaning on a huge 
 shield. There are several busts of Roman emperors, 
 a good one, but with nose broken, of the Elder Drusus, 
 Lucius Verus, Tiberius, Trajan, a Plautilla — and some 
 that are doubtful. 
 
 Of the paintings in the Muse I cannot say much, 
 as I looked at two only — two perfectly delicious 
 Brueghels, a Flemish Fair, and, I think, a wedding. 
 I won the heart of the concierge by studying them. He 
 found me careering about the gallery, like an owl in 
 sunlight, looking for Brueghel, and when he found what 
 I was after, led me back to them, one on each side of 
 the entrance door. "Why do you want to see Brue- 
 ghel ? " he asked. " Why ? because I love his oddities." 
 " Are you a Beige ?" "No." " But you seem to know 
 the Flemish artists. I am by ancestry a Beige. My 
 grandfather came from Brussels." So we talked over 
 
AVIGNON. 273 
 
 dear, delightful Belgium for half-an-hour, and I had 
 the most eager, amiable guide to all that was of in- 
 terest in the museum, after that. And it is a col- 
 lection ! The mediaeval and Renaissance sculptures 
 alone deserve a visit. 
 
 One can hardly bear to think of the amount of good 
 work that has perished in Avignon. The city 
 possessed before the Revolu- 
 tion sixty churches, and of 
 these only eighteen remain ; 
 of between two and three 
 hundred towers and spires, 
 not one-tenth are left stand- 
 ing. There is, however, a 
 very fine tower and east 
 end in S. Didier, a church 
 of the fourteenth century, 
 another in the Hotel de Ville 
 built round with a tasteless 
 Classic structure 
 that obscures it 
 from view. The 
 Musee Requien is 
 in an old convent, 
 the chapel of which 
 
 PART OP CHURCH OV S. DlDIER, AVIGNON. {S g^ U P t0 the " 
 
 Protestants ; it has 
 a rich flamboyant window to the north, unfortunately 
 blocked. 
 
 A quaint and picturesque tower stands by itself 
 in the Rue Carreterie ; it is machicolated and has 
 a delicate little spire. It is all that remains of the 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 church of the Augustinians. Nearly opposite is a 
 rich flamboyant portal. 
 
 Avignon is completely surrounded by its old walls 
 and towers. Much of the space inside is now occu- 
 pied by gardens and vineyards ; apparently in the 
 time when Avignon was the seat of the Papacy, it 
 was far more populous than at present. I should like 
 the clergy of Rome to see Avignon with its fifty-two 
 
 Bridge and Chapel of S. Benezet. 
 
 desecrated churches and its thirty-five abandoned 
 convents, and compare it with Rome where nearly 
 everything is left them ; then perhaps they would be 
 inclined to salute their king and queen. 
 
 What a lovely view that is from the gardens on the 
 Rocher des Domes ! To the east rises Mont Ventoux, 
 a spur of the Alps thrown out into the plain, and in 
 April veiled in snow. To the west the chain of the 
 
AVIGNON. 275 
 
 Cevennes, and the plain gleaming with water from the 
 many windings of the Rhone, and from its branches, 
 as it splits and circumvents islands clothed with 
 willow and poplar. 
 
 Above Avignon is a very large island, and below it 
 the Durance enters the Rhone through a lacework of 
 rubble-beds with scanty growths upon them, the water 
 flickering in a thousand silver threads between. Then, 
 immediately under the Rocher des Domes is the mighty 
 river sweeping on with strong purpose, and half-bridged 
 by a quaint old structure, built between 1 177 and 1 185 
 under the direction of S. Benezet. On the second 
 pile is a little chapel, erected in honour of the founder, 
 in which Mass is still said on his day, April 14th. S. 
 Benezet was a shepherd, he was baptised by the name 
 of Benedict, but, being a very little man, he received 
 the diminutive that has adhered to him. He heard 
 of the accidents that happened to those who crossed 
 the rapid Rhone in boats, and he considered in his 
 mind that it were well if the prelates and burghers of 
 Avignon would devote their wealth to making a good 
 bridge, instead of squandering it in show and riotous 
 living. So he came into the city, and adjured the 
 Pope and the bishop of the see to construct a bridge. 
 The haughty ecclesiastics scoffed at him, and, as he 
 would not desist from his urgency, sent him to the 
 city governor to be chastised. Unshaken by this 
 treatment, the shepherd persisted. He went among 
 the citizens, he sought out the clergy, he collected 
 knots of men to listen to him in the market-place, 
 preaching the advantage of a bridge. It was his one 
 idea. He was ignorant, perhaps foolish, in other 
 
 T 2 
 
276 
 
 IN TR O UBA D UR-LAND. 
 
 matters, but he was possessed with the belief that God 
 had sent him to induce the Avignonese to build a 
 bridge. After a while, nothing was talked of in the 
 
 /TS 
 
 
 r '■ :<<<■? ^W^t"^^'* * .*■■-' 
 
 Its advantage 
 
 was apparent to 
 
 all. Finallyitwas 
 
 decided by acclamation 
 
 that they must have a bridge, 
 
 and when it was built, and the 
 
 shepherd died, " Really," said 
 
 the good people of Avignon, "he must have been a 
 
 saint to have roused us out of our apathy." 
 
 The poor shepherd's body was not respected by the 
 revolutionists, though he was a sans-culotte, but he 
 
 At Villeneuve. 
 
A VIGNON. 277 
 
 was a sans-culotte who was a constructor and not a 
 destroyer, therefore — to the dogs with him. 
 There was a saying — 
 
 " Avenio ventosa 
 Cum vento fastidiosa, 
 Sine vento venenosa." 
 
 That may be rendered in French — 
 
 " Avignon venteuse 
 Avec vent ennuyeuse, 
 Sans vent pernicieuse." 
 
 Windy it was when I was there, and when I went 
 out on the broken-down bridge of S. Benezet I was 
 nearly blown off it. This bridge in French nursery 
 rhyme takes much the same place as does London 
 Bridge in English children's jingles. We have : — 
 
 " London Bridge is broken down, 
 Dance over my Lady Lee." 
 
 And the French have : — 
 
 " Sur le Pont d' Avignon tout le monde danse, danse ; 
 Sur le Pont d' Avignon tout le monde danse en rond." 
 
 Why dancing should be associated with bridges I 
 cannot tell for certain, but there is probably some 
 mythologic origin. It was customary in Pagan times 
 to sacrifice a human being when the foundations of a 
 bridge were laid, by burying the victim alive under it, 
 and every year an offering of a life was made to the 
 river to propitiate it, and ensure the stability of the 
 bridge. Our nursery games of children dancing in a 
 round, and one being taken by the casting of a kerchief, 
 is a relic of an old heathen sors, by which a victim for 
 immolation was selected ; and it is very probable that 
 
273 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 the dancing on bridges had something to do with this. 
 One out of the chain that danced over the bridge, or 
 the ring that wheeled on it was chosen, and cast over 
 the parapet as an offering to the river. 
 
 C astle of S. Andre 
 
 AT VlLLENEUVE. 
 
 This superstition lingered on through the Middle 
 Ages, in spite of Christianity. We say in Devon : — 
 
 " The River Dart 
 Every year demands a heart." 
 
 Anciently the Dart was given his victim ; now, 
 however, he takes it. 
 
 The bridge of S. Benezet is broken down and 
 
AVIGNON. 279 
 
 abandoned, but a suspension bridge unites Avignon 
 with the farther bank of the Rhone, and this must be 
 crossed to reach Villeneuve, which stood to Avignon 
 as Beaucaire to Tarascon. Villeneuve was French, 
 and Avignon Papal down to the Revolution, when in 
 1 79 1 it was annexed to France. At Villeneuve the 
 army was assembled that besieged Pope Benedict 
 XIII. in his palace. 
 
 Villeneuve is full of picturesque points. It was 
 originally well fortified, and was a frontier fortress of 
 Languedoc. The old Hopital contains the tomb of 
 Pope Innocent VI., which may be compared with that 
 of John XXII. in the cathedral. Innocent was a 
 native of Limoges. There was a strange struggle at 
 his election. 
 
 On the death of Clement VI. a conclave of cardinals 
 assembled to consider about choosing John Borelli, 
 Carthusian superior, but, when Cardinal Talleyrand 
 warned them that a man of such stern simplicity would 
 in a very few days order their stately caparisoned 
 horses to be turned to toil at the plough, they were 
 alarmed, and looked elsewhere. But first of all they 
 passed a law by unanimous vote that the College of 
 Cardinals should become a dominant, self-elective 
 assembly, superior to the Pope, and that one-half of 
 the revenues of the Papacy should be diverted into 
 the pockets of the cardinals. Then they proceeded 
 to elect, and chose Stephen Aubert, a distinguished 
 canon lawyer, who assumed the title of Innocent VI., 
 and his first act was to emancipate himself from the oath 
 he had taken, to rescind and declare null this statute 
 of the Conclave. He was a severe disciplinarian. 
 
280 
 
 IN TR UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 em 
 
 2mmm . 
 
 He drove away a great portion of the swarm of 
 bishops and beneficed clergy, who passed their time 
 in Avignon in luxury and indolence, on the look-out 
 for rich emoluments. One story is told of his con- 
 duct with regard to preferments. A favourite 
 
 chaplain presented his 
 nephew, a boy, and 
 asked for him a rich 
 benefice. 
 
 " You are already 
 
 the holder of seven," 
 
 said the Pope, "give 
 
 him one of those." 
 
 The chaplain looked 
 
 discouraged. The 
 
 Pope compelled him 
 
 to choose three of the 
 
 "These must suffice 
 
 and the boy," said 
 
 Innocent, " I will give the 
 
 others to poor and deserving 
 
 clerks." 
 
 It was under Cardinal 
 Albornoz, the martial legate 
 of this Pope, that Rienzi was subdued, and Rome 
 recovered to the Papal chair. 
 
 The castle of Villeneuve was built by Philip the 
 Bold in the thirteenth century, and is interesting in 
 many ways. It contains a little chapel of an earlier 
 date with a small apse and little round-headed windows. 
 The whole of the body is under a very low-pitched 
 roof supported on an almost Classic cornice. The 
 
 best, 
 thee 
 
 At Villeneuve. 
 
A VIGNON. 
 
 fortifications of the castle are an example of a stage 
 of defence carried beyond what was attained at Aigues 
 Mortes. There, as we saw, the upper portion of the 
 walls was covered with a balcony of wood on to which 
 the besieged stepped through the doorways left in the 
 battlements. 
 
 When, in sieges, the catapults were made to fling 
 barrels of flaming 
 tar over these 
 balconies, and set 
 them on fire, re- 
 course was had 
 to structures of 
 stone, and the 
 wooden hourdes, 
 or balconies, dis- 
 appeared. Then 
 came the machi- 
 colated galleries. 
 But even these 
 were deemed in- 
 sufficient, and 
 Schauguettes were 
 
 A Well at Villeneuve. 
 
 erected, sentry- 
 boxes between the towers standing forward beyond 
 the curtains, and with double slits in the floor, through 
 which two streams of flaming combustible or of stones 
 could be sent down on the besiegers. The palace 
 of the Popes at Avignon exhibits these on piers 
 standing forth from the wall. They are also to be 
 seen at Villeneuve. 
 
 The fine Gothic church of the Chartreuse is ruinous ; 
 
282 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 in that stood the tomb of Innocent VI. A grand 
 tower, erected by Philip the Fair, formed the Tete du 
 Pont of the bridge of S. Benezet. It was erected after 
 the bridge had been constructed, as a protection 
 against the troops of the Papacy. Thereupon the 
 popes raised a tower of defence at their end of the 
 bridge. There were originally seventeen arches in 
 the bridge, resting on eighteen piers. 
 
( 28 3 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 VALENCE. 
 
 A dull town — Cathedral — Jacques Cujas— His daughter — Pius VI. 
 — His death — Maison des Tetes — Le Pendentif— The castle of 
 Crussol — The dukes of Uzes — A dramatic company of the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 a sleepy place Valence 
 is ! There was sup- 
 posed to be a fair 
 there when I was at 
 Valence, but even that could not wake it up. But the 
 fair was in a condition of the utmost somnolence itself. 
 Why — I did not suspect till I reached Vienne, when 
 I found that this latter place had drawn to it all that 
 was enterprising, startling, attractive, and left only 
 the very dregs of fairings to poor Valence. 
 
 It has a great boulevard, very wide, very inviting, 
 but the spotted boys, and fat girls, and bearded 
 women, would have nothing to say to it — they herded 
 to Vienne. It has a vast terrace, planted with trees, 
 where any amount of stalls might stand, but there 
 were erected there only some very inconsiderable 
 ranges of boot and shoe tables, and of old cutlery, 
 and slop clothes. 
 
284 
 
 IN TR UBAD O UR-LAND. 
 
 Vlmm 
 
 The cathedral is interesting and fine. The apse 
 at the east end is early and curious ; in place of 
 buttresses receding in stages are Corinthian pillars 
 tied into the walls they are to support at their heads 
 by caps laid on them. There is no clerestory to the 
 church, only an arcade of rude character. The walls 
 of the cathedral are of sandstone, and have been so 
 gnawed by the wind and rain, that 
 the whole pile looks like a piece of 
 very decayed cheese. The interior, 
 however, 
 is quite M 
 sound, re- 
 poseful, 
 and love- 
 ly. That 
 weather- 
 beaten ex- 
 t e r i or, 
 
 with its calm sweet in- 
 terior, struck me as a 
 picture of many a good 
 Christian, buffeted and 
 worn by storm and trial 
 without, whose inner 
 self is ever still and 
 untouched. 
 
 The church was consecrated in 1095 b Y Po P e 
 Urban II. in person. A new western tower has been 
 erected and a very fine west entrance in the Roman- 
 esque style, all very good, except the topmost stage 
 of the tower, which has probably been confided to 
 
 f MI 
 
 Cathedral of Valence. 
 
VALENCE. 285 
 
 an inferior architect, who has managed to mar a work 
 of great promise. 
 
 Jacques Cujas, born at Toulouse in 1520, one of 
 the most famous lawyers of his time, taught at 
 Valence. He was a candidate for the chair of laws 
 in the university of his native city, but was refused it ; 
 a certain Forcadel was elected instead, whose chief 
 merit seems to have been that he was a wag. Cujas, 
 on leaving Toulouse, turned, and shaking the dust off 
 his feet against it said, " Ungrateful fatherland, in you 
 my bones shall not rest." He kept his word, he died 
 and was buried at Bourges. After he was gone from 
 the place and his fame was sounded abroad, the 
 university of Toulouse wanted to recall him, and 
 sent a letter to him nominating him to the chair of 
 laws. His answer was, " Frustra absentem requiris, 
 quern pra^sentem neglexistis." " In vain do you 
 desire him absent whom present you flouted." 
 
 At Valence he had eight hundred scholars, who 
 attended his lectures. So great was the reverence 
 shown for his opinion, that it is said that in the 
 schools of Germany, when the professors quoted him 
 they were wont to raise their hands to their caps. 
 And he deserved it. His burning ambition was to 
 break down the system of injustice to the accused 
 which prevailed in French courts, where one charged 
 with a crime, if the crime were unproved did not 
 obtain complete acquittal. He wrote in the cause of 
 humanity against the abuses of tyranny and ignorance. 
 " Where there is not complete proof of guilt," said 
 he, " there let there be no condemnation," a maxim 
 observed in England, but not in France. " What 
 
IN TR UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 is not full truth," is a saying of his, " is full false- 
 hood." It was his hope, his prayer, that he might 
 live to see the injustice of the French laws swept 
 away. That he was not destined to see. He 
 
 was a kind 
 professor 
 to all his 
 sch olars. 
 When he 
 found that 
 some were 
 needy, he 
 assisted 
 them with 
 money and 
 books. " I 
 was once a 
 poorer lad 
 than you," 
 said he to 
 one w horn 
 he assisted, 
 jg*es?~- ^ -m "and v ery 
 
 grateful if any one would have pity 
 on me." 
 
 He had a daughter, unworthy 
 of her virtuous father. When 
 
 doorway in the House his scholars were caught flirting 
 DupRt latour, valence, with the damsel, they were wont 
 to excuse themselves by saying 
 that they were only " commenting on the works 
 of Cujas." 
 
VALENCE. 
 
 287 
 
 On this the following epigram was composed : — 
 
 " Videras immensos Cujaci labores 
 internum patri commeruisse decus : 
 Ingenio haud poterat tarn magnum asquare parentem 
 Filia; quod potuit corpore fecit opus." 
 
 In his will Cujas desired that none of his books 
 should be sold to a Jesuit ; and that his library should 
 be sold in parcels, lest any one should use his ill- 
 digested notes for publication. His behest was obeyed. 
 The booksellers of Lyons purchased his MSS. and 
 used them as binding for books. It was not till 
 sixteen years after his death that Alexander Scott of 
 Carpentras, one of his pupils, collected his works. 
 
 At Valence died and was buried the unfortunate 
 Pope Pius VI. who had been treated with great 
 harshness, and had been loaded with insults by the 
 French. His was, indeed, a strange story. He 
 began his pontificate in splendour in 1775, an d set to 
 work at once to aggrandise his family, the Braschi. 
 He was a man of rapacious avarice ; of this one 
 glaring instance is given. He persuaded, or com- 
 pelled, a certain Amanzio Lepri to constitute him 
 his heir, and hand over to him the title-deeds of 
 an estate worth many millions of lire. The natural 
 heirs of Lepri were greatly annoyed at this, and 
 instituted proceedings before the tribunals, which 
 gave judgment sometimes for them and sometimes 
 for the Pope, and the matter might have dragged on 
 indefinitely, had not public opinion begun to manifest 
 itself with such force that Pius thought it best to 
 agree to a compromise. 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 In everything relating to himself and his family the 
 Pope showed unbounded extravagance and ostenta- 
 tion. He had pedigrees manufactured to prove the 
 descent of his family from ancient Scandinavian 
 heroes, and that of his nephews, on whom he heaped 
 honours, from the Dukes of Benevento. He collected 
 all the proudest devices of heraldry to incorporate 
 them as quarterings into his arms, and this gave 
 rise to an epigram from the pen of an ex- Jesuit, to 
 this effect : " The eagle belongs to the Empire, the 
 lilies of the field to France, to heaven belongs the 
 stars — to Braschi what ? Puff." 
 
 His extravagance had become so great that the 
 States of the Church were practically bankrupt long 
 before the French overran and pillaged them. In his 
 money difficulties he laid his hands on the funds 
 appropriated to pious works, and so barefaced were 
 his robberies at last, that ten years before the French 
 invasion he had appropriated 36,000 pounds weight of 
 silver from the Holy House of Loretto. Then came 
 the crash. This luxurious and splendid Pope, in his 
 old age, was reduced to be a prisoner, and to be 
 hustled about from place to place by the French. 
 He had been sent first to the Certosa, near Florence, 
 with only two companions ; then, by order of the 
 Directory, was conveyed to Parma. There he was 
 allowed to remain only thirteen days, and, in spite of 
 his age and growing infirmities, was conveyed to the 
 citadel of Turin. One day was there allowed him for 
 repose, and then he was carried over the Alpine pass 
 of Mont Genevre in April to Briancon. There he 
 was left in peace, but sick and feeble, till the end of 
 
VALENCE. 
 
 289 
 
 June, when he was hurried away by Gap towards 
 Dijon, but at Valence he became so ill that he could 
 be no further moved, and there he died on the 29th 
 August 1 799, three days after his arrival. 
 
 The story is told that the official at Briancon on 
 
 £s»" 
 
 
 Doorway and Niche in the Maison des Tetes, Valence. 
 
 receiving him, sent to headquarters a formal receipt 
 couched in these terms : " Recu — un pape, en fort 
 mauvais 6tat." 
 
 There is not much of interest in domestic archi- 
 tecture at Valence, with the sole exception of the 
 Maison des Tetes, which stands near the market-place, 
 and which is sculptured over with great richness, with 
 
 u 
 
2 9 o IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 heads representing the seasons, and Roman emperors. 
 The enrichment of this house is in the style of Flam- 
 boyant passing into Renaissance ; the facade being in 
 sandstone has been sadly gnawed by the tooth of 
 Time, has indeed lost all edge to the sculpture, but 
 within the entrance porch, where protected, the 
 sandstone retains its sharpness. Curiously enough, 
 no one knows for whom this gorgeous mansion was 
 raised. It has a pretty interior court, but there is not 
 much sculpture therein. One cannot quite forgive the 
 original owner and edifier of the mansion for a bit of 
 ostentation and vulgarity of which he has been guilty. 
 The house has one portion looking on to the square, 
 but at the side bends away at an obtuse angle down 
 the street. As the whole facade was not visible at a 
 single glance, only that portion which was most seen 
 was sculptured, and that with overpowering richness, 
 whereas the other portion in the street was left bare 
 to baldness. Wind and rain and frost are engaged 
 in rubbing down all the decoration, and flattening the 
 surface of the decorated portion to the simplicity of 
 the other part. 
 
 The same destroying agencies are at work upon a very 
 quaint mausoleum, on the north side of the cathedral, 
 called Le Pendentif, which was erected in 1548 in 
 Classic style as a monument to the Mistral family. It 
 is quadrangular, and consists of four great piers at the 
 angles, and is adorned with pillars and with arches in 
 the sides sustaining a vault. In the rusticated space 
 that fills the sides, quaint sculptures of monsters and 
 birds of foreign plumage may, or rather might have 
 been traced, the honeycombing by weather has made 
 
VALENCE. 291 
 
 them almost undiscoverable. Probably the structure 
 is more picturesque now in its decay than it ever was 
 before. 
 
 Immediately opposite Valence, on the farther side 
 of the Rhone, rises a bold scarp of sandstone cliff, 
 crowned with the ruined castle of Crussol above the 
 village of S. Peray at its feet, where is made a very 
 capital sparkling wine, not at all inferior to champagne. 
 There is also there an odd chateau, designed, it is 
 believed, by Marshal Vauban, on the plan of a mimic 
 fortress, with bastions, curtains, glacis, portcullis, and 
 loopholes. It is now the residence of the owner of 
 the great vineyards where the S. Peray effervescing 
 wine is made. 
 
 The view of the cliff of Crussol and the village of 
 S. Peray from the terrace of Valence is spoiled by 
 the river being at some distance from the base of the 
 terrace, and the flat land that intervenes being covered 
 by poplars, manufactories and cottages, so that the 
 Rhone is shut out from sight. 
 
 Originally, certainly, the cliff on which stands the 
 cathedral, as well as that now converted into a 
 promenade, were swept by the Rhone, but it has 
 thrown its gravels on to the left bank and cut its 
 way farther to the west. 
 
 The castle of Crussol belonged to the Dukes 
 d'Uzes, and occupies a headland formed by the torrent 
 at its side, that has sawn a chasm through the soft 
 sandstone in its course to join the Rhone. Within 
 the walls may be seen the remains of a small town 
 that clustered there, much like Les Baux, but now 
 completely deserted. The family of Crussol was not of 
 
 u 2 
 
292 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 much note till Louis de Crussol gained the favour of 
 Louis XL, and was created his chamberlain, and 
 governor of Dauphine. The son married the heiress 
 of Uzes, and with her the title of viscount passed to 
 their son Charles, whose son Anthony obtained the 
 title of Duke d'Uzes. There is nothing very remark- 
 able in the story of the Crussols, but the origin of the 
 Uzes is of romantic interest. 
 
 There were three brothers, Ebles, Guy, and Pierre, 
 who had a little estate and castle at Uzes near Nimes. 
 There they lived together, unmarried, and in very 
 pinched circumstances. So, one day Ebles said to 
 his brothers that it was a shabby life for three gentle- 
 men thus to live scraping a few coppers together 
 whilst all was beautiful beyond Uzes. Let them all 
 three leave the crumbling walls and leaky roof of Uzes 
 to the bats and owls, and seek their fortunes in the 
 courts of princes. 
 
 His advice was relished, and they invited their 
 cousin, named Elias, a comic poet, to travel with them. 
 Now Guy, the youngest of the brothers, and Ebles 
 the eldest, had a pretty gift at poetry, and the second 
 brother, Pierre, had a pleasant pipe, so they agreed 
 that Ebles should write sirventes, and Guy chansons, 
 and that Pierre should sing them. Moreover, Elias 
 should compose little comedies that could be performed 
 by their small party, and the profits were to be equally 
 shared between them. They also put their hands 
 together and vowed to be true and friendly, and not 
 to separate till they came back to ramshackle Uzes. 
 
 So the company started, and went first to the court 
 of Reynald, Viscount of Albuzoni and of Marguerite 
 
VALENCE. 
 
 293 
 
 his wife, who received them with pleasure, both of 
 them being fond of Provencal poetry. The brothers 
 and cousin had great success with their songs and 
 comedies, sent round the hat, and got a handsome 
 sum. Then, when they had sucked their orange, they 
 went farther, mounted like paladins, and passed into 
 the territories of the Countess of Montferrat, who 
 received them quite as cordially as had the Viscount 
 of Albuzoni. There they sang and twanged the 
 guitar, but having unhappily composed some satirical 
 verses under the title of " The Life of the Tyrants " in 
 which the morals and greed of the popes and some 
 of the princes of Europe were chastised, the Papal 
 Legate complained and threatened them with public 
 punishment ; he finally imposed silence on them, under 
 threat of excommunication. Then the little company 
 returned home laden with treasures, but sad at heart ; 
 and Guy died about 1230. The company must have 
 done pretty well, if Guy founded with his share of the 
 profits the family which later became one of viscounts. 
 I fear dramatic and musical companies nowadays have 
 not the same success. 
 
2Q4 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 VIENNE. 
 
 Historic associations — Salvation Army bonnets — The fair — A 
 quack — A vampire — The amphitrite — A carousel — Temple of 
 Augustus and Livia — The Aiguille — Cathedral — Angels and 
 musical instruments — S. Andre'-le-Bas — Situation of Vienne — 
 
 Foundation of the Church 
 l^f J-iflH§L there— Letter of the Church 
 
 on the martyrdoms at Lyons. 
 
 went on to Vienne 
 with mind full of 
 thoughts of the Bur- 
 gundian kingdom 
 of which it was the 
 capital in the fifth 
 century, of S. Avitus, 
 of King Clovis, of 
 Calixtus II., of the 
 condemnation of the 
 Templars at the 
 Council of Vienne 
 in 1307 — one of 
 the most cruel and 
 iniquitous deeds done 
 by the Crown of 
 France in compact with the Papacy — and I found 
 myself plunged, unexpectedly, suddenly, into the 
 
 
VIENNE. 295 
 
 vortex of a great popular fair. I had passed from 
 a fair in a condition of languor into one in full flush 
 of life. 
 
 Which was to be done first, the temple of Augustus 
 and Livia, the remains of the Roman theatre — micro- 
 scopic I found afterwards — the cathedral of S. Maurice, 
 or the shows ? 
 
 But surely, the proper study of mankind is man, so 
 I resolved on seeing the fair first, and after that of 
 studying the antiquities, and indulging in antiquarian 
 and historic dreams. 
 
 The weather was sorry : wind and threatenings of 
 rain. Moreover it was cold and overcast. Yet 
 nothing damped the ardour of the sellers, and the 
 acquisitiveness of the buyers. But — had I come upon 
 a nursery of hallelujah lasses ? Were the nights to be 
 made hideous with Salvation Army howls ? On all 
 sides of me were great girls and little girls, matrons 
 and maids, in Salvation Army straws. I turned sick 
 and faint with dismay. In the city of S. Mamertius, 
 of S. Avitus and of Ado — " General " Booth's great 
 Religious Speculation ! It was not so, however, I was 
 rejoiced to find, only all the women had been buying 
 straws in the fair of the Salvation Army shape that 
 were selling cheap, and having bought them ran 
 home, trimmed them, and then out they popped again 
 and marched about to show them. 
 
 An avenue of booths and stalls. Boots, straw 
 hats and Salvation bonnets, ribbons, kerchiefs, books 
 and engravings. There was even a reduced house- 
 hold selling off all their worldly goods, lamps, chairs, 
 prayer-books, kettles, crocks, linen — and a spinning- 
 
2 9 6 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LA ND. 
 
 wheel. I looked lovingly, longingly at that spinning- 
 wheel, and might have bought it for a franc and a 
 half, and would have done so, had I not been 
 encumbered with the hurdy-gurdy. That had brought 
 me into such difficulties that I felt convinced a hurdy- 
 gurdy + a spinning-wheel would lodge me in a lunatic 
 asylum. So reluctantly I left it. 
 
 A gust of wind, and away went the straw hats from 
 the stall, up into the air, over the heads of the crowd, 
 spinning along in the gutters ; one, a very kiss-me- 
 quick, was blown slap in the face of an old priest 
 trudging along reading his breviary. Then such 
 outcries, entreaties, objurgations, as the straw hats and 
 bonnets were run after and recovered, or sought to be 
 recovered. 
 
 Here — a quack with an assortment of bones that 
 were so brown they looked as if they had been devilled, 
 but they had acquired their tone from his hands. He 
 held up a distorted piece of spine and pelvis, and 
 declared he had a plaster so curative — fifty centimes, 
 ten sous — that it would restraighten the most curved 
 back. As for corns ! He raised a horrible foot, 
 applied to it some tow steeped in green fat, rapidly 
 narrated the treatment he recommended — et voila ! — 
 he drew away the tow, and the supposed corn was 
 lodged in the midst of it. An inflammation of the 
 lungs ? a darling child sick ? He opened a coffin and 
 exposed a baby skeleton. " Look ! your cher enfant 
 will be like this, but for fifty centimes I will save it, 
 I guarantee. Pelt me with rotten apples, with addled 
 eggs, if I fail. This plaster placed here (he applied 
 it to the breast of the skeleton), and your child 
 
VIENNE. 
 
 297 
 
 breathes thus (drew a long inhalation) — is well. 
 Warts (a labourer held up a 
 horny hand, the middle joint of the 
 little finger disfigured with such 
 excrescences) ? 
 
 Nothing easier ! 
 You take this 
 bottle — warts are 
 my speciality — 
 you rub the wart 
 with this. Thank 
 you, fifty cen- 
 times. Come 
 here next Sun- 
 day. If the wart 
 be not gone — I 
 do not say it will 
 not leave a scar, 
 but the scar will 
 disappear in a 
 month — here is a 
 knife, stick it into 
 my heart. I give 
 you leave. I will 
 not resist. I will 
 not budge." 
 
 Here — a man 
 selling silvering- 
 liquor, to be ap- 
 plied to vulgar 
 yellow spoons, 
 only a franc a bottle 
 
 House in Vienne. 
 
 and a whole set turned into 
 
298 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 purest silver-plating, plating that will not wear out 
 through all your lives. 
 
 Then, among the shows : — Cora, the Beautiful 
 Serpent Charmer. Cora was outside beating a drum, 
 and was quite the reverse of beautiful ; she may have 
 had the faculty of charming serpents, but not men. 
 A cluster of young soldiers stood without, shook their 
 heads, and would not be allured within. 
 
 " Galerie des actualites artistiques " — a peep-show 
 at photographs from the Paris Exhibition. 
 
 "The real Vampire, alive, living on BLOOD. 
 Called by the Chinese, from its powers of traversing 
 twenty kilometres in an hour, ' The Flying Horse.' " 
 
 The showman was outside, haranguing. His 
 system was to thrill the audience with horror, till 
 they precipitated themselves in a spasm of terror into 
 his show. Just as when one is on a height, a nervous, 
 uncontrollable impulse fills some men to throw them- 
 selves down out of very fear of falling, so did this 
 great artist in horrors work up the feelings of his 
 audience to such tension that it became insupportable, 
 they must go headlong in, and see the vampire, if 
 they died for it. 
 
 "The vampire is to be seen — smacking his lips — 
 thirsting, ravening, for BLOOD. A live rabbit will 
 be offered him ; he will roll his eyes, look at the 
 human beings present, try the bars of his cage — he 
 cannot reach them. En fin, a rabbit is better than 
 nothing ! Mesdames, je vous implore ! Do not 
 bring your babes within. A stern necessity — a care 
 for the consequences would prevent me from 
 admitting them. The sight of a human babe rouses 
 
VIENNE. 
 
 299 
 
 At Vienne, 
 
 in the vampire the sanguinary passion to a paroxysm 
 of frenzy. In its natural state the vampire sucks the 
 blood of men. This vampire has sucked that of 
 KINGS, and to have to descend to— RABBIT ! " 
 
 I did not expend my sous to see the wretched bat, 
 but I did lavish thirty centimes on the amphitrite 
 next door. The programme was so characteristically 
 French that I give it : — 
 
 "Amphitrite vivante. Tous les soirs au couche du soleil elle 
 laisse son palais royal de coraux et d'algues, et sort des vagues 
 sombres pour jouir de son amour ideal. Legere et vaporeuse 
 comme un ange, elle caresse les ondes, et observe d'un doux regard 
 son ideal, et re'plonge au fond de l'ocean. Depeindre avec quelle 
 perfection on presente cette experience au public est impossible ! ! !" 
 
 Thirty centimes, reserved seats ; twenty, unreserved. 
 As it turned out, there were no seats at all, but a 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 slushy soil on which one stood, where the water had 
 run in under the sides of the booth, and which sight- 
 seers had, with their boots, churned into mud. 
 
 I supposed I was to see a nautilus ; it was legere et 
 vaporeux, it could not then be a seal. No, a nautilus. 
 Thirty centimes — here goes for a sight of the nautilus. 
 But it was touching to observe the confidence of the 
 showman. He refused the entrance fee. 
 
 " No, gentlemen. You shall yourselves decide 
 whether the amphitrite is worth six sous. If you 
 say not — go forth ; I am content, but I pity you." 
 
 A piece of drugget served as a curtain, which cut 
 off what may be termed the stage. At a signal the 
 drugget was withdrawn, and the spectators looked 
 into a cave, the sides made of painted calico. Beyond 
 this was the rippling ocean, with the evening sun 
 sparkling on it, much like the scene in " Oberon," only 
 on a very small scale, and with no stage. At a word 
 from the showman, Amphitrite arose. By Ginger ! 
 not a nautilus, not a seal, but a living girl of sixteen 
 summers, in fleshings, who floated in the air, made 
 revolutions, waved her hands, stood on her head, 
 touching nothing, precisely as if she really were 
 devoid of all specific gravity. Only when hand or 
 foot touched the calico-rocks did these same rocks 
 begin to wave about. 
 
 I supposed at the time, I suppose still, that the 
 trick is done by means of mirrors. But how — I can- 
 not conceive. Presently the hat went round for 
 Amphitrite's special benefit : her amour idSal had 
 something of the sordid mammon in it. As every- 
 one put a copper into the hat, " Merci, monsieur; 
 
VIENNE. 301 
 
 merci, madame ! " was what she said. So that there 
 is a difficulty in supposing that the phenomenon was 
 achieved by reflectors. She watched and acknowledged 
 every offering made, as she calmly folded her arms and 
 floated in mid-air, with head on one side, observant. 
 
 I can't explain it — I am puzzled still. I paid my 
 thirty centimes with alacrity, so did every one else. 
 The show was worth the money. 
 
 There was a merry-go-round — a carousel ; the only 
 feature in it with which I was unfamiliar was a ship, 
 sails spread, on a pivot athwart the ring, so that it 
 swayed as on a rolling sea when the carousel was in 
 revolution. I would not have entered that ship for 
 twenty francs. Before the orchestrion that accom- 
 panied the merry-go-round had accomplished the first 
 strain of Strauss's waltz I should have been feebly 
 calling for the steward. I observed that those silly 
 youngsters with nautical proclivities who did scramble 
 into the swaying ship, got out with livid lips, and did 
 not ask to go in again. 
 
 Some years ago I was at Innspruck with a friend. 
 We were sauntering together in the afternoon, not 
 exactly knowing what to do with ourselves, when 
 we found one of these carousels. We went farther ; 
 then I said, " We will return and go and see the 
 Xaverianum " — a collection of paintings, mostly daubs, 
 at Innspruck. " No," said my companion, " I don't 
 feel inclined for the Xaverianum, I'll go down by 
 the river." So we parted. Now, I had not gone 
 far along my way in the direction of the Xaverianum, 
 before I said to myself, " I don't want to see the 
 Xaverianum either ; but, as my friend is away — 
 
3 o2 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 upon my word — I am unknown here ! I'll — yes, I will 
 — by Jove, I will — I'll go and have a round on the 
 whirligig." 
 
 So I retraced my steps, and, on reaching the merry- 
 go-round, what should I behold but my friend seated 
 on a piebald horse, with a short sword in his hand, 
 aiming at the targets he passed in his revolution. 
 He was a bald-headed man, with a long grey beard. 
 His face and head became like a beetroot when he 
 saw me ; but I comforted him. At Wtirzburg, in the 
 Episcopal palace, is a carouse/, in which the bishop — 
 a prince elector — was wont on rainy days to go round 
 and round, seated in a purple velvet chair with the 
 Episcopal arms embroidered on the curtains, and the 
 mitre over it. 
 
 Enough of the fair. Now to graver matters ; and 
 first the temple of Augustus and Livia. I do not 
 know whether it was that the weather was gloomy, or 
 that the fair had set me out of tune for antiquities ; but 
 somehow this temple did not impress me as did the 
 dear little Maison Carree at Nimes. For one thing 
 the stone is dingy, whereas that of Nimes is bright 
 and white ; and the proportions did not please me. I 
 believe the knowing ones say that the Nimes temple 
 is not proportioned according to the laws of Vitruvius, 
 and this at Vienne is. If that be the case, then I am 
 sorry for Vitruvius. The temple is structurally perfect 
 — as perfect as that of Nimes. 
 
 Another object of interest is the Aiguille, a Roman 
 obelisk seventy-six feet high. There is a square base, 
 pierced by arches in each face, and the obelisk, or 
 pyramid rather, stands on this. It is not very 
 
VIENNE. 
 
 3°3 
 
 beautiful, but it is worth examining. It is thought 
 that the monument to Marius at Pourrieres was some- 
 what similar. 
 
 The cathedral of Vienne is of sandstone, and has 
 decayed accordingly. The west end, which was very 
 rich, and is rich still, has suffered from corrosion in 
 the upper part ; but a firmer, less friable sandstone was 
 fortunately employed for the lower stage, in which 
 is the richest sculpture, and that is fairly perfect. 
 Murray pooh-poohs this west front : " It is rich in 
 flamboyant ornaments, but they are clumsy and with- 
 out delicacy." The sculpture was adapted to the 
 material, and any other would not 
 have looked well. After the severe 
 and bald west fronts in Provence, I 
 was disposed, I suppose, to be pleased 
 with the rich facade at Vienne. I Hurdy-gurdy 
 confess that " clumsy and without PlA I*g E l Y ** 
 delicacy " though it might be, I 
 thoroughly enjoyed it. But that facade caught me 
 quite by my weak point. There is a central doorway, 
 and one into each aisle, and round the archways into 
 these lateral doors are sculptured angels playing upon 
 musical instruments. As I have told the reader, ancient 
 forms of musical instruments are my hobby, or rather 
 one of my hobbies. I at once pulled out my sketch- 
 book and drew them ; there are angels with fiddles, 
 angels with viols — no, not hurdy-gurdys ! — but twanged 
 with the fingers, angels with pipes and horns, one with 
 a harp, two with portable organs of ten pipes in each, 
 two angels with bagpipes with single drones. Conceive 
 of a salutation on bagpipes from the celestial choir ! 
 
3°4 
 
 IN TR O UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 An angel plays the cymbals, and another with a plectrum 
 strikes a metal disc. 
 
 The interior of the cathedral is remarkable for the 
 peculiarly fine sculpture of the capitals of the pillars. 
 The foliage is of exquisite loveliness and variety ; but 
 
 over the transept door is 
 a very Brueghel creation 
 of horrors — in fact, the 
 zodiacal signs worked up 
 together into a nightmare. 
 
 A church of remark- 
 able interest in Vienne is 
 S. Andre-le-Bas ; it has 
 in it two Roman 
 marble Corinthian 
 columns supporting 
 the arch of the apse, 
 and a Corinthian 
 capital used as a 
 font. 
 
 The situation of 
 Vienne is remark- 
 able, it resembles 
 one of the towns on 
 the Rhine, where 
 the river is con- 
 tracted among hills. 
 The mountains rise immediately behind the city, and are 
 crowned with old castles. The space between the 
 river and the bases of the heights is small, and the 
 city is somewhat cramped accordingly. But the Gere 
 issues from the hills on the north, and gives some 
 
 Church of S. Andre-le-Bas. 
 The Tower. 
 
VIENNE. 
 
 305 
 
 scope for the suburbs of the old town to creep up its 
 banks. 
 
 Vienne is one of the most ancient towns of Gaul, 
 it was the capital of the Allobroges ; it claims as 
 the founder of the Church there Crescens, disciple of 
 S. Paul. Crescens, it will be remembered, was sent 
 by Paul into Galatia. That was quite sufficient for 
 these Gallic enthu- 
 siasts, who desired 
 to give to the French 
 bishoprics Apostolic 
 founders. They sup- 
 posed that Galatia 
 was a slip of the 
 pen for Gallia, and 
 argued, if to Gallia, 
 then to Vienne, the 
 most ancient and 
 important city there- 
 in, q.e.d. But no 
 bishop of Vienne 
 appears fixed with 
 any certainty before 
 Verus, who attended 
 the Council of Aries 
 in a.d. 314. It is, however, quite certain that the 
 Church was founded there before a.d. 150; for 
 one of the most precious and authentic records 
 of the early Church we have is the letter written 
 by the Vienne Christians to those of the East, 
 recording the martyrdom of the bishop Pothinus of 
 Lyons. 
 
 x 
 
 Porte de l' Ambulance, Vienne. 
 
3 o6 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 It used to be said of the old Gallo-Roman city that 
 its wealth was so great that the streets were paved 
 with mosaic. Now one would be thankful for a bit 
 that was smooth. The pavement is almost as bad as 
 that of Aries. 
 
( 3°7 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXII, 
 
 BOURGES. 
 
 The siege of Avaricum by Caesar — The complete subjugation of 
 Gaul — The statue of the Dying Gaul at Rome — Beauty of 
 Bourges — The cathedral — Not completed according to design — 
 Defect in height — Strict geometrical proportion in design not 
 always satisfactory — Necessity of proportion for acoustics — 
 Domestic architecture in Bourges — The house of Jacques Coeur 
 — Story of his life — A rainy day — Why 
 Bourges included in this book — A silver 
 thimble — Que de singer ics faites-vous la 
 Madeleine ? — Adieu. 
 
 E 
 
 forefront of Gaulish 
 marked by a great 
 There, on a little height at the junction of the Yevre 
 and the Auron, the gallant Bituriges had their capital, 
 Avaricum. In six campaigns Caesar had, as he 
 believed, broken the neck of all resistance, and Gaul 
 was under the iron heel of Rome. " My aunt 
 Julia," said Caesar, " is, maternally, the daughter of 
 
 kings ; paternally " he passed his fingers through 
 
 his curled and scented locks — " paternally, she is 
 
 x 2 
 
3 o8 IN TRO UBADO UR-LAND. 
 
 descended from the immortal gods." After that, even 
 barbarians must feel that it was in vain to strive 
 against a man thus preordained to mastery. Yet they 
 did not see it. 
 
 When Julius Caesar was in Rome, after six years of 
 stubborn conflict, after incredible suffering and blood- 
 shed, the heart of the people though bowed down was 
 not broken. 
 
 There lived among the Arvernians, in the high 
 mountainland, among the volcanic peaks of Auvergne, 
 as it is now called, a young chief, whose real name is 
 not known, but whom history calls Vercingetorix, that 
 is, Head over a Hundred Tribes. The time was come 
 for an united, determined, and desperate resistance. 
 He sent messengers throughout Gaul. The down- 
 trodden inhabitants rose to a man and invested 
 Vercingetorix with the chief command. 
 
 In the year of Rome 702, B.C. 32, Caesar was 
 suddenly informed in Italy that his work of six years 
 was threatened with ruin. Most of the Gallic 
 nations, united under a chieftain hitherto unknown, 
 were rising with one common impulse, and recom- 
 mencing war. 
 
 Caesar at once returned to Gaul. He had one 
 quality, rare even amongst the greatest men, he 
 remained cool amidst the hottest alarms. He was 
 always quick, never hasty. He placed himself at the 
 head of his troops, and, in the early part of March, 
 moved to what is now Sens, the very centre of revolt, 
 and looked round to decide where first to strike. 
 
 Vercingetorix from the outset knew that the ill- 
 armed and worse disciplined Gauls could not cope in 
 
BO URGES. 309 
 
 the open field with Caesar and the Roman legions ; he 
 therefore formed a plan of campaign that required 
 great sacrifices on the side of the Gauls, for the sake 
 of the common safety. No walls, he assured the con- 
 federates, could withstand the skill of the Romans in 
 engineering, no array maintain itself in the field against 
 their phalanx. But he reminded them that through 
 the winter and early spring the soil on which the 
 enemy trod could not furnish him with provision. He 
 must disperse his troops among the fortresses. Let 
 then, said he, no further attempts be made to defy the 
 Roman in the open field ; let him rather be followed 
 in detail, and cut off when separated into cantonments, 
 and above all, let the towns that served him for 
 magazines be destroyed by the hands of the inhabitants 
 themselves. He recommended in fact the very course 
 pursued more than eighteen hundred years later by the 
 Russians against the French Caesar, a course which 
 proved fatal to him. 
 
 The assembled council of Gaulish states assented 
 gallantly to this proposal. In one day twenty cities 
 of the Bituriges were flaming, and similar havoc 
 was made throughout the territories of the allies. But 
 when the fate of Avaricum (Bourges) came to be dis- 
 cussed, the hearts of the Bituriges failed them. Their 
 deputies knelt to the assembled chiefs and interceded 
 for the preservation of their beautiful, and as they 
 deemed it, impregnable city. The council yielded. 
 In vain did Vercingetorix urge them to carry out 
 their determination without exception. They would 
 surrender every other city to the flames, but not their 
 loved capital, not Avaricum. 
 
3io 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 The situation was admirably calculated for defence. 
 It stood on rising ground, and the only approach to 
 it then was a causeway between the river and a 
 
 morass. The 
 garrison laboured 
 night and day to 
 strengthen their 
 defences with 
 earthworks and 
 with palisades of 
 sharpened stakes. 
 The Romans at 
 once moved from 
 Sens and sur- 
 rounded the 
 place. The story 
 of its fall I will 
 take from the 
 graphic pen of 
 Dean Meri- 
 vale: — "Whilst 
 th e Bitu riges 
 
 A Street Corner, Bourges. . , . 
 
 within their city 
 were hard pressed by the machinery 
 which the Roman engineers directed 
 against their walls, the forces of 
 the proconsul on their side were 
 harassed by the fatigues of the 
 siege and the scarcity of provisions. 
 Caesar is lavish of praise in speaking of the 
 fortitude with which his soldiers bore their priva- 
 tions ; they refused to allow him to raise the siege, 
 
BO URGES. 311 
 
 and when he at last led them against the enemy's 
 army, and finding it too strongly posted for an 
 attack, withdrew them again within their lines, they 
 submitted to the disappointment, and betook them- 
 selves once more without a murmur to the tedious 
 operations of the blockade. The skill of the assailants 
 at length triumphed over the bravery of the defenders. 
 The walls were approached by towers at various points, 
 and mounds constructed against which the combustible 
 missiles of the besieged were unavailing. Finally, a 
 desperate sally was repulsed, and then, at last the 
 constancy of the Bituriges began to fail. Taking 
 advantage of a moment when the watch on the walls 
 had relaxed its vigilance, Caesar marshalled his legions 
 behind his works, and poured them suddenly against 
 the opposing ramparts. They gained the summit of 
 the walls, which the defenders abandoned without a 
 blow, rallying, however, in the middle of the town, in 
 such hasty array as the emergency would allow. A 
 bloody struggle ensued ; both parties were numerous, 
 and the assailants gave no quarter. The Gauls were 
 routed and exterminated, their women and children 
 mercilessly slaughtered, and the great central city of 
 Gaul fell into the hands of the conquerors without 
 affording a single captive for their triumph." After 
 that the fate of the insurrection was sealed. The war 
 was carried on with fluctuations of fortune even into an 
 eighth campaign, and then the yoke of Rome, iron, and 
 doubly weighted with the wrath of the conqueror, was 
 riveted on to the neck of prostrate Gallia, never again 
 to be shaken off. 
 
 Now, day after day at Rome during the winter had 
 
3 i2 IN TROUBADOUR-IAND. 
 
 I stood before the Dying Gaul in 'the Capitoline 
 Museum, that statue of incomparable pathos : — 
 
 " He leans upon his hand — his manly brow 
 Consents to death, but conquers agony, 
 And his drooped head sinks gradually low — 
 From the red gash fall heavy, one by one, 
 Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now 
 The arena swims around him — he is gone, 
 Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won." 
 
 Childe Harold. 
 
 The statue is not of a Dying Gladiator, but of a 
 Gaulish chief, who has dealt himself the death-wound 
 rather than fall into servitude to the Roman, and then 
 has broken his sword. 
 
 And, after having looked and dreamed over that 
 figure, could one come to Bourges and not think of 
 that heroic and fatal struggle ? 
 
 Bourges was a beautiful city in those times, loved by 
 the Bituriges so that they could not resolve to destroy 
 it ; but oh ! how beautiful it is now, with its quaint 
 Mediaeval and Renaissance houses, and above all that 
 most glorious cathedral, one of the very finest creations 
 of art in the world. And yet, it is not perfect. The 
 original design was not carried out. The nave has 
 not the height proposed. Funds failed, and it was 
 finished off as best might be. It wants about forty- 
 six feet of the height it should have had, to be in 
 correct proportion. The flying buttresses outside were 
 designed and executed to carry a vaulting some forty- 
 six feet higher than the present one, and they are now 
 of no use ; they sustain nothing, all the outward thrust 
 of the central vault is thrown on the second stage of 
 buttresses. Fine as is the interior, it ouQ^ht to be 
 
BO URGES. 313 
 
 finer. The clerestory windows are dwarfed, and the 
 height of the side aisles is felt to be out of all proportion 
 to that of the nave. Moreover, there is nothing of the 
 wonderful skill of design in the apsidal chapels, that is 
 seen at Amiens, Vezelai, Beauvais, &c. Instead of 
 forming an integral portion of the plan, they are mere 
 excrescences in the sides of the apse. 
 
 However, in spite of defects, partly in design, but 
 mainly through lack of means to carry it out, the 
 cathedral of Bourges is of singular beauty. In one 
 point the architect was a greater man than the designers 
 of Amiens and Cologne. These two cathedrals are 
 in strict proportion in all their parts. The designer of 
 each, like the architect of York Minster, was a great 
 man with the compasses. But an architect should be 
 artist as well as geometrician. I have ever felt in 
 York Minster, in Amiens and Cologne, that there is a 
 lack of genius, of the human soul in the creation. 
 There is strict formality, exact rule, that is all. No 
 allowance has been made for effect of perspective, for 
 the foreshortening to the eye at distances ; there is no 
 poetry in these three cathedrals. The designers drew 
 them out on paper without having the faculty of seeing 
 them in their minds' eye rise before them out of the 
 soil. These churches made better sketches than they 
 do structures. They are in admirable proportion on 
 paper, but they are out of proportion when seen in 
 stone. Now such architects as the men who designed 
 Beauvais and Bourges were geniuses. They were not 
 tied hard and fast by rule of compass. They worked 
 from a definite geometric plan, but deviated from it 
 where their taste and feeling for beauty taught them 
 
3 i 4 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 that such deviation was advisable. Now at Beauvais 
 and at Bourges the exact proportions have been 
 abandoned. For instance, at Bourges, to be exact, 
 each of the two side aisles should have been half the 
 width of the nave. But the architect was perhaps 
 afraid of the great span, perhaps he dreaded too great 
 formality, and he made the aisle next to the nave about 
 2 ft. 3 in. less than the width it ought to have had, if 
 in exact proportion. The outer aisle was given almost, 
 but not quite, the exact proportional width. 
 
 The great defect of our modern architects is that 
 they do not work from a foundation of geometrical 
 proportion, but design out of their own heads by 
 eye ; we are sometimes distressed at finding that our 
 churches recently built are bad acoustically. This 
 is very generally due to the fact that they have been 
 built regardless of geometric proportion. 
 
 If Bourges had been carried out as intended, the 
 crown of the vault would have been exactly seven 
 times half the width of the nave. S. Servin, Toulouse, 
 has the keystone of the vault exactly five times the 
 half width. If we desire to have good acoustic 
 qualities in our churches and halls we must observe 
 some such rule. So with the plan. The length of 
 Autun is seven times the width of the nave ; Beauvais 
 the same, or would have been, had the nave been 
 completed. Amiens has exactly the same proportion, 
 measured to the end of the apse. So Noyon. In 
 fact, the Mediaeval architects were careful to build 
 so as never to give even proportions. Twice, four 
 times, six times, would have had bad acoustic effects. 
 There would have been an echo. 
 
BO URGES. 315 
 
 Of the sculpture on the west facade, the richly, 
 deeply-recessed portals, I will not speak. That has 
 been sufficiently observed and admired by other 
 writers. I am not writing a guide-book, and I do not 
 as a rule notice at any length what may be found 
 in easily-accessible works. Here, as at Rouen, is a 
 butter tower, so called because built with money 
 paid for indulgence to be allowed to eat butter in 
 Lent. Does the reader know how strictly the 
 observance of Lent was enforced down to the Civil 
 Wars in England? I have gone through some 
 episcopal registers of our English bishops since the 
 Reformation, and find that in James I.'s time a 
 bishop's licence was sought to obtain permission to 
 eat meat in Lent. Not only so, but all school- 
 masters, surgeons, and midwives were required to 
 obtain an episcopal licence before being permitted 
 to practise in the diocese. 
 
 In Bourges one feels that one is removed altogether 
 from the influences that moulded architecture in 
 Provence. There the abundance of Classic remains 
 affected the minds and formed the taste of the 
 Mediaeval builders. In Central France there were 
 few traces of the Roman conquerors, and Gothic 
 architecture developed freely according to its own 
 genius. The domestic architecture is different. We 
 come now to the gables standing over the street. 
 There are many and charming specimens in Bourges. 
 Among the houses is that of Cujas, concerning whom 
 some anecdotes have already been told. Bourges was 
 famous for its University and School of Laws, and 
 Cujas was invited to a professorship in it. The 
 
;i6 
 
 IN TR O UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 house is of brick, of the sixteenth century, and 
 
 richly adorned. 
 Another inter- 
 esting house is 
 that of Charles 
 VII., with a 
 graceful staircase, 
 and an old hall 
 with open fire- 
 place. But the 
 most striking 
 mansion of all 
 is that of Jacques 
 Cceur, the 
 Bourges jeweller, 
 father of an 
 Archbishop of 
 this his native 
 city. Through- 
 out the house is 
 introduced his 
 canting device, 
 a human heart 
 and the scallop- 
 shell of S. James. 
 His motto is also 
 graven, "A var- 
 iants cceurs rien 
 impossible." 
 
 I hate doing 
 a thing again and 
 
 in an inferior manner that has already been done 
 
 Part of Jacques Cceur's House. 
 
BO URGES. 317 
 
 inimitably ; and Madame Parkes-Belloc, with her fresh 
 pen dipped in sunlight has written about Bourges and 
 Jacques Cceur's house in her charming book, ' La 
 Belle France,'* and I dare not tread after her. So I 
 simply quote her words — I fear her pleasant book 
 is not much sought after and read now : — " His 
 dwelling must have fitted Jacques Cceur as its skin 
 fits an animal. All its quaint architectural corners 
 seem, as it were, wrinkles and creases, whereby it 
 adapted itself to the nature and genius of the man. 
 We, in our day, know nothing of such a style of 
 building. If we want a large house we send for an 
 architect, who submits his plans to our enlightened 
 judgment ; allotting ample stairs, a sufficiency of 
 best bedrooms, kitchen, butler's pantry, &c. If 
 rather less, then rather cheaper ; and as to making 
 the slightest difference in style on account of our 
 late pursuits, as whether, for instance, we were a 
 retired candlestick-maker, or a Lord Chancellor, or 
 a physician, the very idea would savour of lunacy. 
 Not so Jacques Cceur. This man wished, in dying, 
 to leave a beautiful shell behind him, so that the 
 passers-by might say : ' Here lived a great merchant ; 
 he had a wife, sons, and a daughter, and numerous 
 domestics. He liked his money, but loved art more. 
 He kept a negro ; he was pious, also loyal. He 
 didn't mind fighting, if needs must be ; but preferred 
 commerce and politics. He loved Bourges, and 
 Bourges loved him ; for he paid his workmen well.' 
 All this, and more, Jacques Cceur continued to 
 write in legible characters on the walls of his house, 
 * Published in 1868. 
 
3 1 8 IN TRO UBAD UR-LAND. 
 
 some of it on the outside, some of it on the 
 inside." 
 
 He had humour, a quaint conceit, this man of 
 gold and jewelry. He had the very knocker to 
 his door made to strike upon a heart. Under the 
 eaves of his observatory he had his negro sculptured 
 hugging his money-box, and a little beyond an 
 angel exhibiting his newly-acquired coat-of-arms. 
 The one led to the other — the money-box brought 
 on gentility. Hard by is the shield of an allied 
 commercial family, their coat one of fleurs-de-lis 
 interspersed with woolsacks. The Fuggers of 
 Augsburg, when desiring a coat, asked Maximilian for 
 lilies — for, said these wealthy spinners — as for the 
 lilies, " TJicy toil not, neither do they spin." With 
 droll invention Jacques had one of his fireplaces 
 made like a fortress, with little windows above, out 
 of which folk are peeping. He had a gift for 
 pungent mottoes. Here are some he had wrought 
 into the decorations of his house : — 
 
 " A close bonche 
 II n'entre mouche." 
 
 Another is : — 
 
 " Entendre, taire, 
 Dire, et faire, 
 Est ma joie." 
 
 I remember a merchant's house, very sumptuous, 
 at Schaffhausen, on which he had written this 
 bitter device — "God preserve me from my friends; 
 I will protect myself from my enemies." Another 
 man altogether from Jacques Cceur. 
 
 The ending of this bright, merry, pomp-loving 
 
BO URGES. 
 
 3*9 
 
 
 merchant was sad. He fell into disgrace with his 
 
 king — he had probably lent him too much money ; he 
 
 was accused falsely of several crimes — forging money 
 
 and selling arms to 
 
 infidels, and was thrown 
 
 into prison. The king 
 
 then seized his wealth, 
 
 tore up the bills in his 
 
 name, and left one of 
 
 Jacques' sons only a 
 
 remnant of his treasure 
 
 and the house. Jacques 
 
 Cceur managed to 
 
 escape from prison, got 
 
 to Rome, and was taken 
 
 into favour by Nicolas 
 
 V. and Calixtus III., 
 
 and was appointed 
 
 captain of an expedition 
 
 against the Turks. He 
 
 is thought to have been 
 
 wounded in a skirmish 
 
 with them, for he is 
 
 known to have died 
 
 in Chios. And so he 
 
 passed his old age, and 
 
 laid his bones far from 
 
 the house he had built 
 
 for himself in which to end his days, and was not 
 
 buried in the chapel of the cathedral which he had 
 
 constructed as his mausoleum. 
 
 Another very delightful old house in Bourges is 
 
 Turret in the Hotel Lallemand. 
 
IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 the Hotel Lallemand, 
 constructed after the 
 great fire of 1487 ; 
 there is another in the 
 Rue des Toiles, and 
 another again in the 
 Rue S. Suplice. 
 
 The reader may ask 
 — If you are writing a 
 book on Provence and 
 Languedoc, why give 
 us Bourges ? Bourges, 
 which is in Berry, 
 which is in the very 
 centre of France ? For 
 the same reason that I 
 beean with Florence. 
 One does not drop out 
 of a balloon into Pro- 
 vence, nor ascend out 
 of it by one. One must 
 stay somewhere in 
 going there, and stay 
 somewhere and see 
 something on leaving 
 there. And as my stay 
 at Florence led on as a 
 sort of preface to my 
 flight up and down in 
 Provence, so will this 
 chapter on Bourges serve as an epilogue. For, in 
 verity, as my encounter with the Jew dealer served me 
 
 Staircase in the Hotel Lali.emand. 
 
BO URGES. 32I 
 
 as an introduction so shall a little incident I met with 
 in Bourges serve me as an easy mode of making my 
 exit with a bow. 
 
 It was raining. It had rained all day. The in- 
 terior of the cathedral, dark at all times with its deep- 
 dyed (and dirty) glass, was in darkness, too deep to 
 see and study much. The gurgoyles were spouting, 
 the eaves dripping, the gutters running as mountain 
 torrents. However, towards sunset, the windows of 
 heaven were closed, the rain ceased, and folk who had 
 been indoors all day came out with umbrellas and 
 pattered and splashed about. 
 
 Now, by some fatality a thimble had been brought 
 down from the roof of one of the houses by a de- 
 scending water-spout ; perhaps a dragon-gurgoyle had 
 spat it disdainfully down. How had the thimble got 
 on the roof ? That was the question, not how it got 
 down into the gutter. Had a cunning jackdaw, as 
 in the ' Gazza di Ladra ' carried it off, or had a 
 child tumbled it out of an attic window on to the 
 leads ? 
 
 I was not the only person interested in this thimble. 
 There was a young man, a student, a French exquisite, 
 who also observed it ; and I saw him poking at it in 
 the water with the ferrule of his umbrella. Indeed 
 it was his behaviour towards the thimble that attracted 
 my attention to it. Presently he managed to extricate 
 the thimble from the flood, to lodge it on a pavino-. 
 stone, but it was slippery and round, and rolled off 
 between two cobbles. Then he put up his eye-glass 
 and studied it. Was it worth soiling his fingers over 
 or not ? Was it of silver 
 
322 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 round the thimble, with his eye-glass up, stood astride 
 over the little torrent that had brought it down, stiffened 
 his back, clapped the umbrella under his arm, and 
 pursed up his lips to consider. Then he formed his 
 resolution, stooped, and with the extreme point of his 
 forefinger turned the thimble about. Then he stood 
 erect again, pulled out a pocket handkerchief — saw 
 it was of spotless cleanliness, considered that it would 
 cost him two sous to have it washed if he dirtied it 
 by drying thereon his forefinger, replaced it, and put 
 his finger up his back under his coat tails and wiped 
 it on the calico of his waistcoat. 
 
 He had made up his mind to have nothing more 
 to do with the thimble, when along the trottoir came 
 tripping a pretty damsel, with the purest of white 
 caps, a sallow face, with fine dark eyes and abundant 
 black hair. She bore over her shoulder, expanded, a 
 plum-coloured umbrella. It had ceased raining, but 
 the plum-colour threw out her pleasant face into relief : 
 she knew that, and tripped on without folding it. 
 
 Instantly down bent the student, and, regardless of 
 the dirty water, picked up the thimble. It slipped 
 from his fingers into the gutter. Boldly he plunged 
 his hand in, soiling thereby his manchette ; but he 
 recovered the trifle. The girl was abreast of him, 
 and had passed before he was prepared. 
 
 He now pulled out a dogskin glove and polished 
 the article. It was silver. He affixed it to the end 
 of his little finger and waited his opportunity. 
 
 Three ladies approached. The youth plucked up 
 courage — holding out his little finger shod with the 
 thimble. It was like Paris and the Three Goddesses. 
 
BO URGES. 
 
 323 
 
 The ladies looked at him, at his thimble, then at each 
 other, tossed their heads, and walked on. 
 
 Then came a very ugly woman — the exquisite put 
 the thimble resolutely behind his back. 
 
 Next — back, under her plum-coloured umbrella, 
 returned the grisette. At once the dandy stood 
 forward. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, as you passed just now, assuredly 
 you dropped this.' 
 
 Sculpture over the Kitchen Entrance at 
 Jacques Cceur's House. 
 
 " Mais, Monsieur ! ce n'est pas possible. Ce n'est 
 pas a moi." 
 
 " Pardon, mademoiselle, you dropped it ; I saw you. 
 I heard it fall." 
 
 " Cependant, — it is not mine." 
 
 " Then it is nobody's. I will throw it away." 
 
 "Mais, monsieur, it is of silver." 
 
 " Take it, mademoiselle, I pray." 
 
 She held the little silver thimble between thumb 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 
 
 IN TR O UBA DOUR- LA ND. 
 
 and forefinger, turned it about, studied it, hesitated, 
 was inclined to take it, but did not wish to place 
 herself under an obligation to a fop, and a stranger — 
 knitted her brows — when up came a young workman, 
 with a lead pencil in his hand — in his blouse. 
 
 " Mais ! que de singeries faites-vous la, Madeleine ? " 
 said he, and flip ! — with his pencil he sent the thimble 
 out from her hand, flying — neither he, nor the girl, 
 nor I saw whither it went, or where it fell. 
 
 And — just thus stands the author of this little work, 
 offering his trifle to the gentle and well-disposed 
 reader, who is inclined, may be, to be pleased with it, 
 and to adopt it. But up comes the envious reviewer, 
 and with his pen — flip — he sends the poor little article 
 away — away — away, into the limbo of forgotten 
 books, "que de singeries faites-vous la. — avec cette 
 bagatelle la ? 
 
 Jacques Cceur's Knocker. 
 
( 325 ) 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 A. — Monuments from the Alyscamps. 
 
 i. The inscription to Cornelia, daughter of Marius, 
 is something of a puzzle. Against its genuineness 
 may be urged that he is represented as conqueror of 
 the Cimbri, whereas the Cimbri were not defeated till 
 the following year, near Vercelli. Now it is strange 
 that he should have left his daughter at Aries instead 
 of moving her into Italy ; and it is also odd that, if she 
 were left there, he should be designated as conqueror 
 of the Cimbri, whereas in the engagement with the' 
 Cimbri he shared the glory with Catulus ; and he 
 alone was victor over the Teutons and Ambrons near 
 Aix. Moreover, one would have supposed that at 
 Aries he would have been entitled the conqueror of 
 these latter, the terror of whom had fallen on the 
 province, and not of the Cimbri who did not menace it. 
 On the other hand, the inscription is in shockingly 
 bad Latin ; Calpurnia is made conqueror of the Cimbri, 
 not her father, by a grammatical blunder ; and one 
 would suspect a forger would have avoided such a 
 grotesque error, which is quite in agreement with other 
 blunders made by the sculptors of monuments in the 
 Alyscamps, who were clearly Gallo-Greeks, and hardly 
 understood Latin. 
 
326 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 Also — and this is remarkable — the name of the girl 
 is Calpurnia ; and Caius Marius was a native of 
 Arpinum, and when this town was taken by the Romans 
 from the Samnites, in B.C. 1 88, the franchise was given to 
 the inhabitants, who were enrolled in the Calpurnian 
 gens. Now this is a little fact that it is most impro- 
 bable a forger would know — but it quite explains the 
 girl receiving the name of Calpurnia, if genuine. 
 
 2. The Tomb of Julia Tyranna. The inscription 
 runs : — 
 
 IVLLE . LVC . FILLE . TYRANNIC . 
 
 VIXIT ANN . XX . M . VIII . 
 
 QV/E MORIBVS . PARITER . ET . 
 
 DISCIPLINA . CETERIS . FEMINIS . 
 
 EXEMPLO . FVIT . ANTARCIVS . 
 
 NVRVI . LAVRENTIVS . VCXORI . 
 
 It was raised to her memory by her father-in-law 
 Antarcius, and by her husband, Laurentius. The 
 organ is represented with seven pipes. 
 
 3. O DOLOR . QVANT/E 
 LACHRIM/E . FECERE 
 
 SEPVLCRVM . IVL . LV 
 
 CIN/E . QV/E . VIXIT . KA 
 
 D . RISSIMA . MATRI . FLOS . Ai M . 
 
 TATIS . HIQ . IACET . INTVS . 
 
 CONDITA . SAXOO . VTINAM - 
 
 POSSIT . REPARARI . SPIRITVS . ILLE . 
 
 VT . SCIRET . QVANTVS . DOLOR . EST . 
 
 QVvE . VIXIT . ANN . XXVII . M . X . DIE XIII . 
 
 IVL . PARTHENOPE . POSVIT . INFELIX MATER . 
 
 "O Grief! what tears have watered this tomb of 
 
APPENDIX. 327 
 
 Julia Lucina who in life was very dear to her mother. 
 Carried off in the flower of her age, here she lies, 
 buried in this marble tomb. Would that her spirit 
 might be restored, that she might learn how great is 
 my grief. She lived twenty-seven years, ten months, 
 and thirteen days. Julia Parthenope, her unhappy 
 mother, raised this." 
 
 4. hydrle tertvll.e 
 
 c . f . conivgi . amantissi 
 
 m.e et axle oelian.f; . 
 
 fillf dylcissim^f . 
 
 terentivs mvsevs 
 
 hoc sepvlcrvm 
 
 POSVIT . 
 
 " Terentius Musaeus placed this to his most loving 
 wife, Hydria Tertulla, and to his most sweet daughter, 
 Axia GEliana." On this is a child with a cock in hand, 
 an oblation to the infernal deities. 
 
 5. F . MARIO . MF . 
 
 MARINO . 
 EXS . TESTA MENTO . 
 
 Observe in this, as in No. 3, the queer spelling, in 
 both phonetic : — iiiq, saxoo, exs. 
 
 6. Here is a Christian inscription : — 
 
 INTEGER . ATQVE . PIVS . VITA . ET . CORPORE . PVRVS . 
 
 .ETERNO . IIIC . POSITVS . VIVIT . CONCORDIVS . .EVO . 
 
 QV1 . TEXERIS . PRIMVM . MINISTER . FVLSIT . 
 
 IN . ANN IS . 
 
 TOST . ETIAM . LECTVS . COELESTI . LEGE . SACERDOS 
 
; 2 8 IN TRO UBAD O UR-LA ND . 
 
 TRIGINTA . ET GEMINOS . DECEM . VIX . REDDIDIT . 
 
 ANNOS . 
 
 IIVNC . CITO . SIDEREAM . RAPTVM . OMNIPOTENTIS . 
 
 IN AVLAM 
 
 MATER . BLANDA . ET . FRATER . SINE FVNERE 
 
 QV^RVNT . 
 
 " Intact and pious, pure in life and body, here lies 
 buried, but eternally lives Concordius, who in his 
 tender years shone first as a deacon, afterwards chosen 
 by the celestial law a priest ; he lived hardly fifty 
 years. Transported too soon to the starry hall of the 
 Almighty, his gentle mother and his brother seek him 
 without bewailing him." 
 
 This is on a sarcophagus of white marble with a 
 colonnade carved on the face, the pillars channeled and 
 spiral. In the centre is Jesus Christ, seated on a 
 throne, instructing His apostles and a crowd, which is 
 seen through the arcade, at the right a man, on the 
 left a woman, on the cover are the twelve apostles 
 with rolled volumes before them. This sarcophagus 
 belongs to the fourth century. 
 
 7. PAX /ETERNA 
 
 DVLCISSIM/E . ET . INNOCEN 
 
 TISSIM . FILLI/E . CHRYSOGONE . IV 
 
 NIOR . SIRICIO . QV.E . VIX . ANN . Ill . 
 
 M . II . DIEB . XXVII . VALERIVS . ET . CHRY 
 
 SOGONE . PARENTES . FILLLE . KARIS 
 
 SIMM . ET . OMNI . TEMPORE . VI 
 
 T/E . SVE . DESIDERANTISS . 
 
 M . A . E . 
 
APPENDIX. 329 
 
 " Peace eternal to the most sweet and innocent girl, 
 Chrysogone (the younger) Siricio, who lived three 
 years, three months, and twenty-seven days. Valerius 
 and Chrysogone, her parents, raised this monument 
 to their most dear daughter, whom they will regret 
 all their lives." 
 
 The bones were found in a leaden coffin enclosed 
 in one of stone. The body of the little Chrysogone 
 had been enveloped in a rich brocade of gold thread 
 and silk. 
 
 8. A curious column dedicated by the good people 
 of Aries to Flavius Valerius Constantinus (Constantine 
 the Great), son of Constantius, long served the boatmen 
 on the Rhone to fasten their vessels to, and it is sadly 
 furrowed by the chains and cords so employed. It 
 bears the inscription : — 
 
 IMP . C.ES . FL . VAL . CONSTANTINO 
 
 P . F . AVG . DIVI CONSTANTI . 
 
 AVG . RII . FILIO . 
 
 Constantius Chorus also bore the names of Flavius 
 Valerius. 
 
 B. — The Campaign of Marius. 
 
 For determining this the following points must be 
 settled : — 
 
 I. Where was his camp .' 
 
 To fix the position of his camp we must see where 
 he could best watch the barbarians cross the Rhone, 
 in such a place as he would have his rear covered, 
 and where he could keep open his communications 
 
330 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 with Rome, and receive both reinforcements and 
 victuals. 
 
 Now there is absolutely no point that answers these 
 requirements like S. Gabriel. It was certain that the 
 barbarians would not cross at Aries, for they could 
 not advance thence south of the chain of Les Alpines, 
 owing to the lagoons and morasses, and the desert of 
 the Great Crau. They must cross below Avignon and 
 at or above Tarascon. Now, as they would almost 
 certainly march along the high table-land that extends 
 from Montpellier by Nimes to Beaucaire, and not wade 
 through the marshes below these hills, they would 
 arrive with dry feet at Beaucaire, and there, naturally 
 would cross and follow up the valley of the Durance. 
 S. Gabriel was a natural watch-tower, whence Marius 
 could observe them. It is an ancient Roman settlement. 
 Numerous Roman remains have been found there. 
 Marius had but to mount the heights behind the little 
 town, and he commanded all the country to the north- 
 west and south for a vast distance. Then, again, by 
 means of his canal, connecting the lagoons, he was 
 able to bring ships with supplies under his walls. His 
 canal opened out of the Etang de Galejon, with a 
 station at Fos, not at the exact entrance of the canal, 
 which was low and marshy, but at the entrance of the 
 channel of Martigues that opens into the Etang de 
 Berre. Through Galejon it ran north, cutting through 
 a chain of lagoons, passed under Mont Majeur to 
 S. Gabriel, and there probably received the waters, 
 the overspill of the Durance, above Chateau Renard. 
 Plutarch says that it was connected with the Rhone, 
 but this was probably an error. Its course to S 
 
APPENDIX. 331 
 
 Gabriel remained in use and falling into decay in the 
 Middle Ages as the Canal des Lonnes. Between 
 S. Gabriel and the Etang de Galejon it could also 
 be traced, and bore the name of Le Vigueirat. This 
 canal of Marius was perfectly protected from the 
 barbarians by the morasses that intervened between 
 it and the Rhone. 
 
 II. To determine his march. 
 
 The old pre- Roman road from Nimes to Aix cer- 
 tainly followed the high and dry ground to Tarascon, 
 thence traced up the valley of the Durance. It could 
 no longer follow the high ground, as that is broken 
 into limestone peaks, but it followed up the river 
 below them, carried above the rubble of the Durance. 
 The first station after Tarascon was Glanum, now 
 S. Remi. Then it went to Orgon, where it touched the 
 Durance for the first time, and whence branched the 
 roads to Italy — one by Mont Genevre, the other by Aix 
 and the coast. I suppose that Marius, following the bar- 
 barians, he on the heights, they in the valley, observed 
 the direction they took to right or to left, from the pre- 
 cipitous crags of Orgon. It must be remembered that 
 Marius had an army made up of demoralised soldiers, 
 who had escaped from defeat by the barbarians, and of 
 raw levies, and all were in deadly fear of their savage 
 foes, so that he dare not bring them to a pitched battle 
 till they had become accustomed to the sight of the 
 Teutons and Ambrons, and were themselves impatient 
 to come to blows with them. 
 
 The host of invaders turned south towards Aix. 
 Marius pursued : there can, I think, be little question 
 
332 
 
 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 that he pursued the same tactics, exchanging a sand- 
 stone range for one of limestone, and following them 
 steadily step by step, keeping the heights. 
 
 Now, if the camp of Marius was at S. Gabriel, and 
 if the Teutons marched up the Durance valley to 
 Orgon, and then turned to Aix, then, it seemed to me, 
 on the spot, that no one save an idiot in command of 
 the Roman soldiers could have done anything else 
 than strike for the sandstone ridge and march along 
 that, still observing the enemy. 
 
 Another theory relative to the Roman road is that 
 it ran south of the chain of Les Alpines. This would 
 not matter for the course of Marius, but would explain 
 the fact of the monument of Marius being found at 
 Les Baux ; and Les Baux would then be the cliff 
 whence he watched the march of the barbarians. 
 
 III. To determine the position of the battles. 
 
 Plutarch does not distinguish between sites. He 
 says that there were two battles separated from 
 one another by twoldays, and that in the first Marius 
 defeated the Ambrons. In the second he defeated the 
 Teutons. He leaves us to infer that both battles were 
 fought on the same field. But there are difficulties in 
 
 o 
 
 supposing this. 
 
 i. The field of Pourrieres does not answer the 
 description of the first battle site ; it does that of the 
 second. 
 
 2. The Ambrons alone were engaged in the first 
 battle, and no Teutons came to their help. We may 
 therefore fairly suppose that the two great bodies of 
 barbarian invaders had separated. 
 
APPENDIX. 333 
 
 3. There was a very tempting bait, Marseilles lying 
 to the south, inviting attack and pillage. 
 
 Following M. Gilles in his monograph on the cam- 
 paign of Marius, I believe that the first battle was 
 fought at Les Milles, the first station out of Aix on 
 the Marseilles road, and that the Ambrons had parted 
 company with the Teutons so as to try their luck 
 with Marseilles, or perhaps only so as to ravage the coast, 
 if they could make no impression on a walled city. 
 
 Now, the sandstone ridge along which Marius and 
 his army were marching, as I suppose, ends abruptly- 
 above Les Milles. Below flows the river Are, making 
 a loop in which is a rich green meadow, and under the 
 hill ooze out countless rills of water. Indeed, the 
 bottom of the hill is dense with irises loving the slushy 
 percolated soil. There is no water on the sandstone 
 heights. Here, if I am right, Marius came out and 
 saw the Ambrons below, and wanted to form his camp, 
 but was deterred by an engagement being begun by 
 the water-carriers of the camp going down to the river 
 and springs with their pails, and being attacked by the 
 Ambrons. Aix lies away to the north in a broad 
 basin, and at some little distance, two kilos., from the 
 river. The battle could not have happened there. 
 There is no other place save Les Milles where we 
 have hill, river, green plain and springs together, as 
 in Plutarch's narrative. Let us then suppose that 
 Marius fought the first battle at Les Milles and there 
 defeated the Ambrons. Those not slain would fly 
 along the Aurelian road that leads from Aix through 
 the plain of Pourrieres, crosses a low col, and enters 
 the valley of the Argens, and leads to Frejus, where 
 
334 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 I suppose Teutons and Ambrons designed to meet 
 again, and pursue their course westward together. In 
 the meantime the Teutons had been advancing up the 
 Are valley along the Aurelian way. A mile and a 
 half out of Aix they reached the Are, five miles 
 above Les Milles, and thence followed up the river 
 for three miles, when they left it. Their road now lay 
 due east before them, across the almost level plain of 
 Pourrieres, below the limestone precipice to the north 
 of Mont Victoire. But there is a curious formation 
 here. South of Mont Victoire is a semicircular sand- 
 stone chain, inferior in height, precipitous towards the 
 plain, called Le Cengle, " the Belt," dying into the 
 limestone mountain at the point where the latter attains 
 its greatest altitude, above the village of Puyloubier. 
 This sandstone girdle slopes easily inward to the pre- 
 cipice of Mont Victoire, and its rills flow together into 
 a little stream that reaches the Are at the point where 
 the Aurelian road left it, i.e. seven and a half miles 
 from Aix. 
 
 M. Gilles supposes that Marius followed on the 
 heels of the flying Ambrons along the Aurelian way, 
 and that he detached Marcellus at this point to go up 
 this little stream behind the Cengle and come out 
 farther east so as to gain Pain de Munition. 
 
 I do not think this is tenable, for there is a long 
 tract of bare hill-slope between the extremity of the 
 Cingle and the conical fortified hill of Pain de Munition, 
 and even if Marcellus were concealed whilst ascending 
 this little lateral valley, he would emerge in full view 
 of the barbarians for the last five or six miles of his 
 march. My belief is that Marcellus was despatched 
 
APPENDIX. 335 
 
 up the valley of the Infernet, behind Mont Victoire, by 
 which means his march would be concealed throughout, 
 nor would it be much longer. 
 
 Also, I do not think that Marius pursued the 
 Teutons the whole way along the road. According to 
 Plutarch's account, the second time he came on them 
 so as to cause them surprise. Again, if he had pur- 
 sued a certain plan up to the first engagement, and it 
 had succeeded, it is likely that he would follow the same 
 plan up to the second and final engagement. Now 
 hitherto he had kept to high ground always to the 
 south of the advancing horde. From Les Milles he 
 very probably, as I think, only followed the traces of 
 the flying Ambrons along the road till he struck the 
 Are in the open plain of Pourrieres, and then at once 
 crossed to the south bank of the river, and marched 
 along on ground that slopes up to the south, so that he 
 had the river between him and the enemy. If, as is 
 probable, this hill-slope, along which the rail now runs, 
 was then, more than now, dense with broom and pine, 
 his march would not be seen by the enemy. And so 
 I conclude Marius by a forced march reached Trets. 
 Then, as I have said in my text, he had the enemy in a 
 trap. Behind them was the fortified camp of Pain de 
 Munition into which he had thrown Marcellus, and 
 behind him he had the chain of Mont Aurelien and 
 Mont Olympe, with another fortified camp. Between 
 him and the enemy was a slope, and this was cut by 
 streams that had torn their way through a friable 
 marly soil. Moreover, he had a natural screen of 
 rock between him and the enemy, with the low face 
 towards him, and an easy slope towards the barbarians. 
 
336 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 The actual site of the camp of the Teutons is fixed 
 without very much doubt. They would certainly 
 camp in the first available situation near water. Now 
 they had been marching for five miles without water, 
 and on reaching the Are at the station Tegulata, 
 they found an admirable site, three tofts of dry level 
 sandstone apparently made for their purpose. More- 
 over, opposite them is the ruin of the monument of 
 Marius. About the ruin there might have been doubts 
 whether it was Roman, and whether it referred to the 
 victory, but for the discovery there of the statue of Venus 
 Victrix, which sets that question at rest for ever. 
 
 M. Gilles supposes that the battle was fought along 
 the road, when the Teutons saw Marius overtake them 
 in pursuit, and that it began at a point about a mile 
 due west, at Le Logis Neuf. If it had been so, then 
 surely the monument would have been on the west 
 side of Tegulata, and north of the Are. The tradition 
 that it raged from north to south between the bridge 
 and Trets is only of value from its being based on 
 the masses of weapons, bronze and flint, found on the 
 south side of the river, and not on the north. 
 
 There is something too to be said for what common 
 sense would point out. Standing on the red sandstone 
 hill above Les Milles, and looking at Aix, and away 
 east, one tries to imagine the barbarian hordes march- 
 ing along the Aurelian way ; and then one asks, " Now 
 had I to fight them, what would I do ? " The answer 
 I gave to myself was, " Common sense bids me make 
 with forced marches away to Trets, keeping my flank 
 protected by the river, and surprise them again." I am 
 not a general — but it appeared to me that it would be 
 
APPENDIX. 337 
 
 hard for any one on the spot in the position of Marius, 
 if he had his wits about him, not to see that the 
 barbarians had given him a splendid chance, and 
 that he must catch it, and take them unawares when 
 they had stepped into his net. 
 
 C. — The Utriculares. 
 
 There are twenty-three inscriptions relative to the 
 Colleges of Utriculares in Provence. M. Lentheric 
 gives five in the appendix to his volume, ' Les Villes 
 Mortes du Golfe de Lyon,' and nineteen in that to 
 his volume " Le Grece et l'Orient en Provence,' but 
 of these one is from Temesvar in Hungary. 
 
 Then M. Gilles, in his ' Campagne de Marius,' 
 engraves a medal of the Guild of Utriculares of Cabelio 
 (Cavaillon), which is now in the Cabinet of Medals at 
 Paris. It was found on the hill-slopes of the Luberon. 
 On the obverse it bears a representation of an inflated 
 skin of a beast (a calf?) ; on the other side the inscrip- 
 tion — 
 
 Collegium) utri{culariorum) Cab(ellionensis) L(ncius) 
 Valer(itts) successor). 
 
 I will give a few of the inscriptions on stones. 
 
 i. D. M. G. Paqui, Optati lib(erti) Pardalcr, 
 sextum (viri) Aug{iistalis) col(pnicc) Ju{licc) Pat{cnur) 
 Ar{elatensis) patron{i) ejusdem corporis), itempatron{i) 
 fabror{iun) naval{ium\ utvicular{ionu)i) ct ccntcna{rio- 
 riuii) C. Paquius Epigonus cum liberis snis patrono 
 optime merito. 
 
 "To the manes ofG. Paquius Pardalas, freedman of 
 Optatus, sevir Augustal of the Colony of Julia Paterna 
 
338 IN TROUBADOUR-LAND. 
 
 of Aries, patron of the same body, and also patron 
 of the shipbuilders, of the utriculares, and of the 
 centenares. C. Paquius Epigonius and his children 
 to a well-deserving patron." 
 
 This was found under the porch of S. Caesarius at 
 Aries. The Centenarii were the men who made the 
 patchwork beds that covered towers and walls in war 
 as a protection against the ram and against fire. 
 
 2. D. M. L(ucio) Secundia eletUheria navicular(io) 
 Arel(atensi) item sevir(p) Aug{ustali) corporiatd) 
 ciolonice) J(uli&) P (at ernes) A{relatensis) secundia 
 Tatiana Jil{ia) patri pientissim[o) . 
 
 " To the manes of Lucius Secundius Eleutherius, 
 boatman of Aries, and Augustal sevir, incorporated 
 in the colony of Julia Paterna of Aries. Secundia 
 Tatiana, his daughter, to the most tender of fathers." 
 
 Found on the banks of the Rhone, at Aries. 
 
 3. D. M. M(arcd) Junio Messanio, utricul{ario) 
 corp(orato) Arelat(ensi), ejusdiem) corporis) mag{istro) 
 quater, fi(lio\ qui vixit ann(os) octo et viginti menses 
 quinqtie, dies decern, Junia Valeria. 
 
 " To the manes. To Marcus Junius Messianus of 
 the corporation of the utriculares of Aries, four times 
 president of the same ; Junia Valeria to her son, who 
 died at the age of twenty-eight years, five months, and 
 ten days." 
 
 This is on a stone sarcophagus in the museum at 
 Aries. 
 
 4. M(arcd) Frontoni Eupori, sevir(o) Aug(ustali) 
 col(pnies) Julia{e) Aug{ust&) Aquis Sextis, navicu- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 339 
 
 lar{id) Afar(ino) Arc{late) Curat{ori) ejusd{em) cor- 
 poris) patrono nautar(um) Druen^ticoruvi) et utricu- 
 larior(um) corp(oratoruiii) Emaginensium. Julia Nice 
 uxor conjugi carissimo. 
 
 " To Marcus Fronto Eupor, Augustal sevir of the 
 Colony of Julia Augusta at Aix, mariner of Aries, 
 curator of the said corporation, patron of the corpora- 
 tions of the mariners of the Durance and of the 
 utriculares of Ernaginum. Julia Nice to her dearest 
 husband." 
 
 Found in the church of S. Gabriel (Ernaginum). 
 
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