BY THE BANKS OF THE RHÔNE
The boundary between Dauphiny and Provence was by no means vague; it was
a well defined territorial limit, but in the old days, as with those of
the present, the climatic and topographic limits between the two regions
were not so readily defined. The Rhône, the mightiest of French rivers
when measured by the force and, at times, the bulk of its current,
played a momentous historic part in the development of all the region
lying within its watershed, and for that reason the cities lying midway
upon its banks had much intercourse one with another.
[Illustration]
Vienne, on the left bank of this swift-flowing river, was the capital
of the Counts of the Viennois, and the birthplace of the earliest of the
"native" Dauphins, who afterwards transferred their seat of power to
Grenoble. For this reason it is obvious that the history of Vienne and
that of the surrounding territory was intimately bound up with the later
mountain province of Dauphiny, whose capital was Gratianopolis.
As the capital of this mountain empire evolved itself into Grenoble, and
the power of the Dauphins gradually waned at Vienne, Comte Humbert, who
was then ruler at Vienne, transferred his sceptre to the heir of
Philippe de Valois who built his palace in the ancient mountain
stronghold of the Romans in preference to continuing the seat of
governmental dignity and rule by the banks of the mighty Rhône.
From this one gathers, and rightly, that Vienne is one of the most
ancient cities of Dauphiny, and indeed of all the Rhône valley. Its
history has been mentioned by Cæsar:
"_Accolit Alpinis opulenta Vienna calonis._"
In the fifth century it was the capital of the first Burgundian kingdom,
and at a later period the official residence of the native Dauphins, the
race that came before those eldest sons of the French kings who wielded
their power from their palace at Grenoble.
Vienne's architectural monuments are many and of all states of nobility,
but of palaces, castles and chateaux it contains only the scantiest of
memories.
Down by the river, at the terminus of the ugly wire-rope suspension
bridge, the modern useful successor of the more æsthetic works of the
mediæval "Brothers of the Bridge," is a most remarkable tower known as
the "Tour de Mau Conseil." It has for a legend the tale that Pontius
Pilate threw himself from its topmost story. History, more explicit than
the over-enthusiastic native, says that it was only the shore-end or
gatehouse of a chateau which guarded the river crossing, and was built
by Philippe de Valois. There is a discrepancy here of some centuries, so
with all due respect to local pride one had best stick to historic fact.
There is a Chateau de Pilate, so-called, on the banks of the Rhône just
below Saint Vallier, a few leagues away, of which the traditional legend
is also kept green. It may be only a story anyway, but if one is bound
to have it repeated, it had best be applied at this latter point.
This tower of Philippe de Valois as it exists
[Illustration: _Tower of Philippe de Valois, Vienne_]
to-day, also known as the "Clef de l'Empire," is thus much more
explicitly named, for it was in a way a sort of guardian outpost which
controlled the entrance and exit to and from the neighbouring Lyonnais.
Vienne, being the outgrowth of a city of great antiquity, its Roman
remains are numerous and splendid, from the bare outlines of its
Amphitheatre to its almost perfectly preserved Temple d'Auguste.
Monuments of its feudal epoch are not wanting either, though no splendid
domestic or civic chateau exists to-day in its entirety. Instead there
are scattered here and there about the town many fragmentary reminders
of the days of the first Burgundian kingdom, and of the later city of
the counts and Dauphins.
In 879 A.D. the ruler of the province, Boson, Comte de Vienne, Arles et
Provence, by his ambition and energy, was proclaimed king by the barons
and bishops assembled in the Chateau de Mantaille, belonging to the
Archbishop of Vienne and situated at Saint Rambert, between Vienne and
Valence.
In the Rue de l'Hopital one sees two coiffed towers rising high above
the surrounding gables. They are all that remain of the semi-barbarian
Comte Boson's palace. In the passage entered by an antique portal, and
running between two rows of rather squalid buildings, there is a slab
which bears the following inscription:
+-------------------------+
| LE PALAIS DE BOSON |
| SERVIT D'HOTEL DE VILLE |
| DE 1551-1771. |
+-------------------------+
It is not a very convincing souvenir, but the sight of the great round
towers, rising above the canyon-like alleys roundabout, at least lends
aid to the acceptance of the assertion by one who does not demand more
clearly defined proofs.
In the Rue Boson is another edifice which may have something in common
with the life of the first Burgundian court. It is a house which
combines many non-contemporary features and possesses a marvellously
built winding Renaissance stairway and two great towers, one a mere
watch-tower, seemingly, the other strongly fortified. Frankly these
towers might be accessories of some church edifice, or yet the chimneys
of a factory, or of an iron furnace, since, even considering their
situation, there is nothing distinctively feudal about them. They are,
however, of manifest ancient origin and served either military or
chateau-like functions. Of that there is no doubt in spite of their
ungainliness.
Valence is a _bruyante_, grandiose city, which, without the Rhône or the
mountains, might be Tours or Lille so far as its local life goes, and
this in spite of the fact that it is on the border line between the
north and the south.
"_À Valence le Midi commence_" is the classic phrase with which every
earnest traveller in France is familiar, though indeed for three or four
months of the year Valence is surrounded by snow-capped mountains. "The
women of Valence are _vive et piquante_" is also another trite saying,
but the city itself has nothing but its historic past to recommend it in
the eyes of the sentimental traveller of the twentieth century.
The strategic position of Valence has made it in times past the scene of
much historic action. With this importance in full view it is really
astonishing that the city possesses so few historic monuments.
Almost at the juncture of the Isère and the Rhône, Valence to-day
bustles its days away with a feverish local life that, in a way, reminds
one of a great city like Lyons, to which indeed it plays second fiddle.
There are few strangers except those who have come to town from places
lying within a strictly local radius, and there is a smug air of
satisfaction on the face of every inhabitant.
Things have changed at Valence of late years, for it was once one of the
first cities of Dauphiny where religious reform penetrated in the later
years of the sixteenth century, and even in the preceding century it had
already placed itself under the protection of Louis XI, fearing that
some internal upheaval might seriously affect its local life. Valence
has always played for safety and that is why it lacks any particularly
imposing or edifying aspect to-day. When Napoleon was staying at the
military school at Valence he wrote of it as a city "_sombre, severe et
sans grace_." There is no cause to modify the view to-day.
Almost the sole example of domestic architecture at Valence worthy to be
included in any portrait gallery of great Renaissance houses, is that
which is somewhat vulgarly known as the "Maison des Têtes." It was built
in 1531 by the art-loving François Premier, not for himself but as a
recompense for some less wealthy noble who had served him during his
momentous Italian journey.
The name applied to this historic house is most curious, but is obvious
from the decoration of its façade. Who its owner may actually have been
has strangely enough been overlooked by those whose business it is to
write such things down. Certain it is that he was fortunate to have a
patron who would bestow upon him so luxurious a dwelling as it must once
have been.
Perhaps, to go deeper into the question, the edifice was one of those
"_discrets chateaux_" which François had a way of building up and down
France, where he might repair unbeknownst to the world or even his
court. Surely, here, in a tortuous back street of the dull little city
of Valence, in the sixteenth century, one might well consider himself
sheltered from the few inquisitive glances which might be cast on his
trail. The _oeil de boeuf_, that Paris spy or coterie of spies, did
not exist for the monarch at Valence.
The Maison des Têtes is the more remarkable by reason of its modest
proportions and the exceedingly ornate and bizarre decorations of its
façade. Below and above the window-frames is an elaborate sculptured
frieze, and between the _arceaux_ of the windows, even, are equally
finely chiselled motives.
There is a series of medallions of five philosophers and poets of
antiquity, flanked on either side by a head of a Roman emperor and
another of Louis XI. Two mutilated effigies, nearly life size, occupy
niches on a level with the second story, and directly beneath the roof
are posed four enormous heads, typifying the winds of the four quarters.
This interesting façade, no less than the vague history which attaches
to the house itself, is in a comparative state of dilapidation. It seems
a pity that in a city so poor in artistic shrines it were not better
preserved and cared for. But there it is--Valence again! As a matter of
fact the lower floor is occupied by a mean sort of a wine-shop, which
assuredly casts an unseeming slur upon the proud position that the
edifice once held.
Nearly opposite the Maison des Têtes is the house where the young
Napoleon lodged in 1785-1786.
Just above Valence, at the confluence of the Isère and the Rhône, is the
magnificent feudal ruin of Crussol, the guardian of the gateway leading
from the south to the north. It sits at a great height above the
swirling waters of the current on a peak of rock, and from the aspect of
its projecting, fang-like gable is locally known as the "Corne de
Crussol."
[Illustration: _Chateau de Crussol_]
For years this typical feudal castle and military stronghold of great
power belonged to the family of Crussol, the old Ducs d'Uzes. So vast
was it originally in extent that it contained a whole village within its
walls, and indeed there was no other protection for those who called the
duke master, as the castle had appropriated to itself the entire
mountain-top plateau.
Certainly Crussol must have been as nearly impregnable a fortress as any
of its class ever built, for from its eastern flank one may drop down a
sheer thousand feet and then fall into the whirlpool waters of the
Rhône. This was sure and sudden death to any who might lose their
footing from above, but it was also an unscalable bulwark against
attack.
The panorama which opens out from the platform of the ruined chateau is
remarkable and extends from the Alps on the east to the Cevennes on the
west, and from the Vivarais on the north to the distant blue of the
Vercors on the south, and perhaps, at times, even to Mont Ventoux in
Vaucluse.