ARLES.
We stopped but a short time at Beaucaire, where we saw the largo plain
on the banks of the Rhone, on which are erected the wooden houses for
the annual fair which takes place in July, when the scene is said to
present a very striking effect.
These wooden houses are filled with articles of every description, and
are inhabited by the venders who bring their goods to be disposed of to
the crowds of buyers who flock here from all parts, offering, in the
variety of their costumes and habits, a very animated and showy
picture.
The public walk, which edges the grassy plain allotted to the fair, is
bordered by large elm-trees, and the vicinity to the river insures that
freshness always so desirable in summer, and more especially in a
climate so warm as this.
The town of Beaucaire has little worthy of notice, except its
Hòtel-de-Ville and church, both of which are handsome buildings. We
crossed the Rhone over the bridge of boats, from which we had a good
view, and arrived at Tarascon.
The château called the Castle of King René, but which was erected by
Louis II, count of Provence, is an object of interest to all who love
to ponder on the olden time, when gallant knights and lovely dames
assembled here for those tournaments in which the good René delighted.
Alas for the change! In those apartments in which the generous monarch
loved to indulge the effusions of his gentle muse, and where fair
ladies smiled, and belted knights quaffed ruby wine to their healths,
now dwell reckless felons and hopeless debtors; for the château is
converted into a prison.
In the Church of St. Martha we saw a relic of the barbarism of the dark
ages, in the shape of a grotesque representation of a dragon, called
the Tarasque. This image is formed of wood, rudely painted in gandy
colours.
Twice a-year it is borne through the streets of Tarascon, in
commemoration of the destruction of a fabulous monster that long
frequented the Rhone, and devoured many of the inhabitants of the
surrounding country, but was at length vanquished by St. Martha; who,
having secured it round the neck by her veil, delivered it to the just
vengeance of the Tarascons. This legend is received as truth by common
people, and our guide informed us that they warmly resent any _doubt_
of its authenticity.
The monument of St. Martha is shown in the church dedicated to her, and
her memory is held in great reverence at Tarascon.
The country between this place and Tarascon is fertile and well
cultivated, and the cheerfulness of its aspect presents a striking
contrast to the silence and solitude of the town. The streets, however,
are as clean as those of Holland, and the inhabitants are neat and tidy
in their attire.
The houses are for the most part old and dilapidated, looking in nearly
as ruined a condition as the fragments of antiquity which date so many
centuries before them. Nevertheless, some of the streets and dwellings
seem to indicate that a spirit of improvement is abroad.
Our hôtel is a large, crazy, old mansion, reminding me of some of those
at Shrewsbury; and its furniture appears to be coeval with it, as
nothing can be more homely or misshapen. Oak and walnut-tree chairs,
beds, and tables form the chief part, and these are in a very rickety
condition; nevertheless, an air of cleanliness and comfort pervades the
rooms, and with the extreme rusticity of the _ameublement_, give one
the notion of being in some huge old farm-house.
Nor is the manner of the good hostess calculated to dispel this
illusion. When our three carriages drove to her door, though prepared
for our arrival by the courier, she repeatedly said that her poor house
had no accommodation for such guests, and we had some difficulty in
persuading her that we were easily satisfied.
She had donned her fête dress for our reception, and presented a very
picturesque appearance, as she stood smiling and bustling about at the
door. She wore a high cap reminding me of those of the women in
Normandy: brown stays; linsey-woolsey, voluminous petticoats;
handkerchief and apron trimmed with rich old-fashioned lace; and long
gold ear-rings, and chain of the same material, twisted at least ten
times round her neck.
She explained to us, in a _patois_ not easily understood, that her
house was only frequented by the farmers, and their wives and
daughters, who attended the fetes, or occasionally by a stray traveller
who came to explore the antiquities.
Before I had travelled much on the Continent, I confess that the
appearance of this dwelling would have rather startled me as a _séjour_
for two days, but now I can relish its rusticity; for cleanliness, that
most indispensable of all requisites to comfort, is not wanting.
The furniture is scrubbed into brightness, the small diamond-shaped
panes of the old-fashioned casements are clean as hands can make them;
the large antique fireplace is filled with fresh flowers; and the
walnut-tree tables are covered with white napkins.
No sooner had we performed our ablutions, and changed our travelling
dresses for others, than our good hostess, aided by three active young
country maidens, served up a plentiful dinner, consisting of an
excellent _pot-au-feu_, followed by fish, fowl, and flesh, sufficient
to satisfy the hunger of at least four times the number of our party.
Having covered the table until it literally "groaned with the weight of
the feast," she seated herself at a little distance from it, and issued
her commands to her hand-maidens what to serve, and when to change a
plate, what wine to offer, and which dish she most recommended, with a
good-humoured attention to our wants, that really anticipated them.
There was something as novel as patriarchal in her mode of doing the
honours, and it pleased us so much that we invited her to partake of
our repast; but she could not be prevailed on, though she consented to
drink our healths in a glass of her best wine.
She repeatedly expressed her fears that our dinner was not sufficiently
_recherché_, and hoped we would allow her to prepare a good supper.
When we were descending the stairs, she met us with several of her
female neighbours _en grande toilette_, whom she had invited to see the
strangers, and who gazed at us with as much surprise as if we were
natives of Otaheite, beheld for the first time. Cordial greetings,
however, atoned for the somewhat too earnest examination to which we
had been subjected; and many civil speeches from our good hostess, who
seemed not a little proud of displaying her foreign guests, rewarded
the patience with which we submitted to the inspection.
One old lady felt the quality of our robes, another admired our
trinkets, and a third was in raptures with our veils. In short, as a
Frenchwoman would say, we had _un grand succès_; and so, our hostess
assured us.
We went over the Amphitheatre, the dimensions of which exceed those of
the Amphitheatre at Nismes. Three orders of architecture are also
introduced in it, and it has no less than sixty arcades, with four
large doors; that on the north side has a very imposing effect. The
corridor leading to the arena exhibits all the grandeur peculiar to the
public buildings of the Romans, and is well worthy of attention; but
the portion of the edifice that most interested me was the
subterranean, which a number of workmen were busily employed in
excavating, under the superintendence of the Prefect of Arles, a
gentleman with whose knowledge of the antiquities of his native town,
and urbanity towards the strangers who visit them, we have every reason
to be satisfied.
Under his guidance, we explored a considerable extent of the recently
excavated subterranean, a task which requires no slight devotion to
antiquities to induce the visitor to persevere, the inequalities of the
ground exposing one continually to the danger of a fall, or to the
still more perilous chance--as occurred to one of our party--of the
head coming in contact with the roof.
We saw also fragments of a theatre in the garden of the convent of La
Miséricorde, consisting of two large marble columns and two arches.
In the ancient church of St. Anne, now converted into a museum, are
collected all the fragments of antiquity discovered at Arles, and in
its vicinity; some of them highly interesting, and bearing evidences of
the former splendour of the place.
An altar dedicated to the Goddess of Good; the celebrated Mithras with
a serpent coiled round him, between the folds of which are sculptured
the signs of the zodiac; Medea and her children; a mile-stone, bearing
the names of the Emperors Theodosius and Valentinian; a basso-relievo
of the Muses; several sarcophagi, votive altars, cornices, pillars,
mutilated statues, and inscriptions, are here carefully preserved: but
nothing in the collection equals the statue known by the title of the
Venus of Arles, found here, and which is so deservedly admired at the
Louvre.
An obelisk of granite, about sixty feet high, said to be the only
antique one in France, stands on the place of the Hôtel-de-Ville.
Discovered in 1389, it was not disinterred from the earth in which it
was embedded until the reign of Charles IX, and was erected on its
present site in 1676, with a dedication to the then reigning sovereign,
Louis XIV; A globe, ornamented with _fleurs de lis_ placed on its
point, deteriorates, in my opinion, from the beauty of its effect. It
was originally in one block, but it was broken in two by its overturn.
Many houses in the streets have portions of columns, friezes, and
cornices embedded in their walls; and one of them, occupied by a
barber, had a column in front, to which the insignia of his profession
were attached. Ruins, said to be those of the palace of Constantine,
were pointed out to us, as well as fragments of a forum and baths.
Arles is certainly one of the most interesting towns I have ever seen,
whether viewed as a place remarkable for the objects of antiquity it
contains, or for the primitive manners of its inhabitants and its
picturesque appearance.
The quays are spacious and well built, presenting a very different
aspect to the streets; for the former are very populous, being
frequented by the boatmen who ply their busy commerce between Lyons and
Marseilles--dépôts for the merchandise being erected along them, while
the latter are comparatively deserted.
With this facility of communication with two such flourishing towns, it
is extraordinary that Arles should have so long retained the primitive
simplicity that seems to pervade it, and that a good hotel has not yet
been established here.
Our good hostess provided nearly as substantial a supper for us last
night as the early dinner served up on our arrival, and again presided
at the repast, pressing us to eat, and recommending, with genuine
kindness, the various specimens of dainties set before us. Our beds,
though homely, were clean; and I have seldom, in the most luxurious
ones, reposed equally soundly.
When our courier asked for the bill this morning, the landlady declared
she "knew not what to charge, that she never was in the habit of making
out bills, and that we must give her what we thought right."
The courier urged the necessity of having a regular bill, explaining to
her that he was obliged to file all bills, and produce them every week
for the arrangement of his accounts,--but in vain: she could not, she
declared, make one out; and no one in her house was more expert than
herself.
She came to us, laughing and protesting, and ended by saying, "Pay what
you like; things are very cheap at Arles. You have eaten very little;
really, it is not worth charging for." But, when we persisted on having
her at least name a sum, to our infinite surprise she asked, if a
couple of louis would be too much?--And this for a party of six, and
six servants, for two days!
We had some difficulty in inducing her to accept a suitable
indemnification, and parted, leaving her proclaiming what she was
pleased to consider our excessive generosity, and reiterating her good
wishes.