NISMES.
I have omitted to notice the route to this place, having formerly
described the greater portion of it. I remarked a considerable
improvement in the different towns we passed through: the people look
cleaner, and an air of business has replaced the stagnation that used
to prevail, except in Marseilles and Toulon, which were always busy
cities.
Nismes surpasses my expectations, although they had been greatly
excited, and amply repays the long _détour_ we have made to visit it.
When I look round on the objects of antiquity that meet my eye on every
side, and above all on the Amphitheatre and _Maison Carrée_, I am
forced to admit that Italy has nothing to equal the two last: for if
the Coliseum may be said to surpass the amphitheatre in dimensions, the
wonderful state of preservation of the latter renders it more
interesting; and the _Maison Carrée_, it must be allowed, stands
without a competitor. Well might the Abbé Barthélemy, in his _Voyage
d'Anacharsis_, call it the masterpiece of ancient architecture and the
despair of modern!
The antiquities of Nismes have another advantage over those of Italy:
they are kept wholly free from the disgusting _entourage_ that impairs
the effect of the latter; and in examining them in the interior or
exterior, no risk is incurred of encountering aught offensive to the
olfactory nerves, or injurious to the _chaussure_.
We devoted last evening to walking round the town, and so cloudless was
the sky, so genial the air, and so striking the monuments of Roman
splendour, that I could have fancied myself again transported to Italy.
Our inn, the Hôtel du Midi, is an excellent one; the apartments good,
and the _cuisine soignée_. In this latter point the French hôtels are
far superior to the Italian; but in civility and attention, the hosts
of Italy have the advantage.
We had no sooner dined than half-a-dozen persons, laden with silk
handkerchiefs and ribands, brocaded with gold and silver, and silk
stockings, and crapes, all the manufacture of Nismes, came to display
their merchandise. The specimens were good, and the prices moderate; so
we bought some of each, much to the satisfaction of the parties
selling, and also of the host, who seemed to take a more than common
interest in the sale, whether wholly from patriotic feelings or not, I
will not pretend to say.
The _Maison Carrée_, of all the buildings of antiquity I have yet seen,
is the one which has most successfully resisted the numerous assaults
of time, weather, Vandalism, and the not less barbarous attacks of
those into whose merciless hands it has afterwards fallen. In the early
part of the Christian ages it was converted into a church, and
dedicated to St.-Étienne the Martyr; and in the eleventh century it was
used as the Hôtel-de-Ville. It was then given to a certain Pierre Boys,
in exchange for a piece of ground to erect a new hôtel-de-ville; and
he, after having degraded it by using a portion of it as a party-wall
to a mean dwelling he erected adjoining it, disposed of it to a *Sieur
Bruyes, who, still more barbarous than Pierre Boys, converted it into a
stable. In 1670, it was purchased by the Augustin monks from the
descendants of Bruyes, and once more used as a church; and, in 1789, it
was taken from the Augustin monks for the purposes of the
administration of the department. From that period, every thing has
been done for its preservation. Cleared from the mean houses which had
been built around it, and enclosed by an iron palisade, which protects
it from mischievous hands, it now stands isolated in the centre of a
square, or _place_, where it can be seen at every side. Poldo
d'Albenas, a quaint old writer, whose book I glanced over to-day,
attributes the preservation of the _Maison Carrée_ to the fortunate
horoscope of the spot on which it stands. His lamentations for the
insults offered to this building are really passionate.
The _Maison Carrée_ is not square, though its denomination might lead
one to suppose it to be so, being nearly eighty feet long, and only
thirty-eight feet wide. Elevated on a base of cut stone, it is ascended
by a flight of steps, which extends the length of the base in front.
The walls of the building are of a fine white stone, and are admirably
constructed.
The edifice has thirty fluted columns, with Corinthian capitals
beautifully sculptured, on which rests the architrave, with frieze and
cornice. This last is ornamented with sculpture; and the frieze, with
foliage finely executed.
The entrance is by a portico, open on three sides, and supported by two
columns, included in the thirty already named, of which six form the
front, and extend to the fourth, when commences the wall of the
building, in which the other columns are half imbedded, being united in
the building with its architrave. The fronton, which is over the
portico, has no ornament in the centre; neither has the frieze nor
architrave: but some holes mark where the bronze letters of an
inscription were once inserted.
This inscription has been conjectured, by the ingenious mode of placing
on paper the exact dimensions of the holes which formerly contained the
letters of it, and is now said to be as follows:--
C. CÆSARI AUGUSTI. F. COS. L. CÆSARI AUGUSTI F. COS.
DESIGNATO PRINCIPIBUS JUVENTUTES.
But as more holes are found than would be filled by these letters, the
conclusion does not seem to me to be justified.
At the far end of the portico is the door of entrance, the only opening
by which light is admitted to the building. It is very lofty, and on
each side is a pilaster; beneath the cornice are two long cut stones,
which advance like a kind of architrave, pierced by a square hole of
above twelve inches, supposed to have been intended to support a bronze
door.
The original destination of this beautiful edifice still furnishes a
subject for discussion among the antiquaries; some asserting it to have
been erected by the Emperor Adrian in honour of Plotina, while others
maintain it to have been a forum.
At present, it is used as a museum for the antiquities discovered at
Nismes, and contains some admirable specimens. Among these are a torso
in marble of a Roman knight, in a cuirass, and another colossal torso,
with a charming little draped statue seated in a curule chair, and
holding a cornucopia in the left hand; a cinerary monument, enriched
with bassi-relievi, representing a human sacrifice; a bronze head of
Apollo, much injured; and a Janus.
A funereal monument found in the neighbourhood of Nismes in 1824,
offers a very interesting object, being in a good state of
preservation. It is richly decorated, and by the inscription is proved
to have been that of Marcus Attius, aged twenty-five years, erected to
him by his mother Coelia, daughter of Sextus Paternus.
So fine is the proportion, so exquisite is the finish, and so wonderful
is the preservation of the _Maison Carrée_, that I confess I had much
more pleasure in contemplating its exterior, than in examining all that
it contains, though many of these objects are well worth inspection.
I should like to have a small model of it executed in silver, as an
ornament for the centre of a table; but it would require the hand of a
master to do justice to the olive leaves of the capitals of the
columns; that is, if they were faithfully copied from the original.
It was, if I remember rightly, Cardinal Alberoni who observed that this
beautiful building ought to be preserved in a golden _étui_, and its
compactness and exquisite finish prove that the implied eulogium was
not unmerited.
I have nowhere else noticed the introduction of olive leaves in
Corinthian capitals instead of those of the acanthus; the effect of
which is very good. A design was once formed of removing the _Maison
Carrée_ to Versailles. Colbert was the originator of this barbarous
project, which, however, was fortunately abandoned from the fear of
impairing, if not destroying, the beauty of the building. The Emperor
Napoleon is said to have entertained a similar notion, and meant to
grace Paris with this model of architectural perfection; but it was
found to be too solidly built to admit of removal, and he who could
shake empires, could not stir the _Maison Carrée_.
The transportation of antiquities from their original site can never be
excused, except in cases where it was the only means of insuring their
preservation. All the power of association is lost when they are
transferred to other places; and the view of them ceases to afford that
satisfaction experienced when beheld where they were primarily destined
to stand. I can no more fancy the _Maison Carrée_ appropriately placed
in the bustle and gaiety of Paris, than I could endure to see one of
the temples at Pæstum stuck down at Charing Cross.
One loves, when contemplating such precious memorials of antiquity, to
look around on the objects in nature, still wearing the same aspect as
when they were reared. The hills and mountains, unlike the productions
of man, change not; and nowhere can the fragments of a bygone age
appear to such advantage as on the spots selected for their erection,
where their vicinity to peculiar scenery had been taken into
consideration.
We spent a considerable time in examining the Amphitheatre, and so well
is it preserved, that one can hardly bring one's self to believe that
so many centuries have elapsed since it was built; and that generation
after generation has passed away, who have looked on this edifice which
now meets my view, so little changed by the ravages of that ruthless
conqueror Time, or the still more ruthless Visigoths who converted it
into a citadel, flanking the eastern door with two towers. In 737
Charles Martel besieged the Saracens, and set fire to it, and after
their expulsion it continued to be used as a citadel.
The form of this fine building is elliptical, and some notion of its
vast extent may be formed, when it is stated to have been capable of
containing above 17,000 spectators.
Its façade consists of two rows of porticoes, forming two galleries one
over the other, composing sixty arcades, divided by the same number of
Tuscan pilasters in the first range, and of Doric columns in the upper,
and an attic, which crowns all. Four principal doors, fronting the four
cardinal points, open into the amphitheatre, divided at nearly equal
distances one from the other.
The attic has no arcades, pilasters, or columns; but a narrow ledge
runs along it, which was probably used for the purpose of approaching
the projecting consoles, 120 in number, placed in couples at equal
distances between two columns, and pierced with a large hole, which
corresponds with a similar one in the cornice, evidently meant for
securing the awnings used to prevent the spectators from being
inconvenienced by the rain or sun.
These awnings did not extend to the arena, which was usually left open,
but were universally adopted in all the Roman amphitheatres, after
their introduction by Q. Catullus. The vast extent and extraordinary
commodiousness of the amphitheatres erected by the Romans, prove not
only the love of the sports exhibited in them entertained by that
people, but the attention paid to their health and comfort by the
architects who planned these buildings. The numerous vomitories were
not amongst the least important of these comforts, securing a safe
retreat from the theatre in all cases of emergency, and precluding
those fearful accidents that in our times have not infrequently
occurred, when an alarm of fire has been given. The mode of
arrangements, too, saved the spectators from all the deleterious
results of impure air, while the velarium preserved them from the sun.
But not only were the spectators screened from too fervid heat, but
they could retreat at pleasure, in case of rain or storm, into the
galleries, where they were sheltered from the rain. Our superior
civilization and refinement have not led to an equal attention to
safety and comfort in the mode of our ingress and egress from theatres,
or to their ventilation; but perhaps this omission may be accounted for
by the difference of our habits from those of the Romans. Public
amusements were deemed as essential to their comfort, as the enjoyment
of home is to ours; and, consequently, while we prefer home--and long
may we continue to do so--our theatres will not be either so vast or so
commodious as in those times and countries, where domestic happiness
was so much less understood or provided for.
The erection of this magnificent edifice is attributed to Vespasian,
Titus, or Domitian, from a fragment of an inscription discovered here
some fourteen or fifteen years ago, of which the following is a
transcript:--
VII. TRI. PO.....
And as only these three filled the consulate eight times since
Tiberius, in whose age no amphitheatre had been built in the Roman
provinces, to one of them is adjudged its elevation.
Could I only remember one half the erudition poured forth on my addled
brain by the cicerone, I might fill several pages, and fatigue others
nearly as much as he fatigued me; but I will have pity on my readers,
and spare them the elaborate details, profound speculations, ingenious
hypotheses, and archaiological lore that assailed me, and wish them,
should they ever visit Nismes, that which was denied me--a tranquil and
uninterrupted contemplation of its interesting antiquities, free from
the verbiage of a conscientious cicerone, who thinks himself in duty
bound to relate all that he has ever heard or read relative to the
objects he points out.
Even now my poor head rings with the names of Caius and Lucius Cæsar,
Tiberius, Trajan, Adrian, Diocletian, and Heaven only knows how many
other Roman worthies, to whom Nismes owes its attractions, not one of
whom did this learned Theban omit to enumerate.
Many of the antiquities of Nismes, which we went over to-day, might
well command attention, were they not in the vicinity of two such
remarkable and well-preserved monuments as the Amphitheatre and _Maison
Carrée_.
The Gate of Augustus, which now serves as the entrance to the barracks
of the gendarmerie, is worthy of inspection. It consists of four
arches--two of equal size, for the admittance of chariots and horsemen,
and two less ones for pedestrians. The centres of the two larger arches
are decorated by the head of a bull, in alto-relievo; and above each of
the smaller arches is a niche, evidently meant for the reception of a
statue.
A Corinthian pilaster divides the larger arches from the less, and a
similar one terminates the building on each side; while the two larger
arches are separated by a small Ionic column, which rests on a
projecting abutment whence the arches spring. The Gate of France has
but one arch, and is said to have been flanked by towers; of which,
however, it has little vestige.
The inhabitants of Nismes seem very proud of its antiquities, and even
the humbler classes descant with much erudition on the subject. Most,
if not all of them, have studied the guide-books, and like to display
the extent of their _savoir_ on the subject.
They evince not a little jealousy if any preference seems accorded to
the antiquities of Italy over those of their town; and ask, with an air
of triumph, whether any thing in Italy can be compared with their
_Maison Carrée_, expressing their wonder that so few English come to
look at it.
La Tour-Magne stands on the highest of the hills, at the base of which
is spread the town. It is precisely in the state most agreeable to
antiquaries, as its extreme dilapidation permits them to indulge those
various conjectures and hypotheses relative to its original
destination, in which they delight. They see in their "mind's eye" all
these interesting works of antiquity, _not_ as they _really_ are, but
as it pleases them to imagine they _once_ were; and, consequently, the
less that actually remains on which to base their suppositions, the
wider field have they for their favourite speculations.
This tower is said by some to have been intended for a lighthouse;
others assert it to have been a treasury; a third party declares it to
be the remains of a palace; and, last of all, it is assumed to have
been a mausoleum.
Its form, judging from what remains, must have been pyramidical,
composed of several stages, forming octagons, retreating one above the
other. It suffered much from Charles Martel in 737, who wished to
destroy it, owing to its offering a strong military position to the
Saracens; and still more from the ravages of a certain Francis Trancat,
to whom Henry IV granted permission to make excavations in the interior
of it, on condition that three parts of the product should be given up
to the royal coffer.
The result did not repay the trouble or expense; and one cannot help
being rejoiced that it did not, as probably, had it been otherwise, the
success would have served as an incentive to destroy other buildings.
In the vicinity of the Tour-Magne are the fountain, terrace, and
garden, the last of which is well planted, and forms a very agreeable
promenade for the inhabitants of Nismes. The fountain occupies the site
of the ancient baths--many vestiges of which having been discovered
have been employed for this useful, but not tasteful, work.
It was not until the middle of the eighteenth century, that it was
suspected that the water which served to turn a mill in the immediate
vicinity had been obstructed by the ruins which impeded its course.
This obstruction led to excavations, the result of which was the
discovery of the remains of buildings, columns, statues, inscriptions,
and fragments of rare marbles.
The obstructions being thus removed, and the town enriched by the
precious objects found, the persons to whom the direction of the
excavation was confided, instead of vigorously pursuing the task, were
content with what they had already discovered, and once more closed up
the grave in which so many treasures of antiquity were still
interred--using many of the materials disinterred for the formation of
the terraces which now cover it.
The architect selected to execute this work was Philip Maréchal, an
engineer, never previously employed, except in military architecture: a
fact to which may be attributed the peculiar style that he has
exhibited--bastions and trenches being adopted, instead of the usual
and more appropriate forms generally used for terraces and canals.
To these are subjoined ornaments of the period in which the work was
completed--the fitness of which is not more to HBO commended than that
of the work itself: the whole offering a curious mixture of military
and _rococo_ taste.
It was in the freshness of early morning that I, yesterday, again
visited the garden of the fountain and its fine chesnut trees and
laurel roses; the latter, growing in great luxuriance, looked
beautiful, the sun having not yet scorched them. The fountain, too, in
its natural bed, which is not less than seventy-two French feet in
diameter, and twenty feet in depth, was pellucid as crystal, and
through it the long leaves that nearly cover the gravel appeared green
as emerald.
The hill above the fountain has been tastefully planted with evergreen
trees, which shade a delicious walk, formed to its summit.
This improvement to the appearance, as well as to the _agréments_, of
Nismes, is due to Monsieur d'Haussey[1], prefect, whose popularity is
said to be deservedly acquired, by his unremitting attention to the
interests of the city, and his urbanity to its inhabitants.
Nismes is a gay town, if I may judge by the groups of well-dressed
women and men we have observed at the promenade.
It has a considerable garrison, and the officers are occasionally seen
passing and repassing; but not, as I have often remarked in England,
lazily lounging about as if anxious to kill time, but moving briskly as
if on business.
The various accomplishments acquired by young men in France offer a
great resource in country quarters. Drawing, in which most of them have
attained a facility, if not excellence, enables them to fill albums
with clever sketches; and their love of the fine arts leads them to
devote some hours in most days to their cultivation.
This is surely preferable to loitering in news-rooms, sauntering in the
shops of pretty milliners, breaking down the fences of farmers, or
riding over young wheat--innocent pastimes, sometimes undertaken by
young officers for mere want of some occupation.
The Temple of Diana is in the vicinity of the fountain, which has given
rise to the conjecture that it originally constituted a portion of the
ancient baths. Its shape is rectangular, and a large opening in the
centre forms the entrance.
Twelve niches, five of which open into the partition of the temple, and
two on the right and left of the entrance, are crowned by frontons
alternately circular and triangular, and are said to have contained
statues. This is one of the most picturesque ruins I ever saw. Silence
and solitude reign around it, and wild fig-trees enwreath with their
luxuriant foliage the opening made by Time, and half conceal the wounds
inflicted by barbarian hands.
I could have spent hours in this desecrated temple, pondering on the
brevity of life, as compared with its age. There is something pure and
calm in such a spot, that influences the feelings of those who pause in
it; and by reminding them of the inevitable lot of all sublunary
things, renders the cares incidental to all who breathe, less acutely
felt for the time.
Is not every ruin a history of the fate of generations, which century
after century has seen pass away?--generations of mortals like
ourselves, who have been moved by the same passions, and vexed by the
same griefs; like us, who were instinct with life and spirit, yet whose
very dust has disappeared. Nevertheless, we can yield to the futile
pleasures, or to the petty ills of life, as if their duration was to be
of long extent, unmindful that ages hence, others will visit the
objects we now behold, and find them little changed, while we shall
have in our turn passed away, leaving behind no trace of our existence.
I never see a beautiful landscape, a noble ruin, or a glorious fane,
without wishing that I could bequeath to those who will come to visit
them when I shall be no more, the tender thoughts that filled my soul
when contemplating them; and thus, even in death, create a sympathy.