PAGAN ARLES.
The Arles race a mixture of Greek and Gaulish--The colonisation
by the Romans--The type of beauty in Arles--The amphitheatre--A
bull-baiting--Provençal bull-baits different from Spanish bull-fights--The
theatre--The ancient Greek stage--The destruction of the Arles
theatre--Excavation of the orchestra--Discovery of the Venus of Arles--A
sick girl--Palace of Constantine.
Before describing Arles I began with the Elysian Fields, the great cemetery
of Pagan and Christian Arles, 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 Arles. But first of all let
me observe that the Arles 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 Greek and Gaulish blood
united. In the year B.C. 46 a Roman colony was planted at Arles. Cæsar,
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 quæstors, 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 Arles, 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 Sextanorum. Tacitus gives
us a picture of the proceedings on such occasions. After the tribunes and
the centurions came a cloud of officials called _agrimensores_, 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 coloniæ_. From that moment the transformation of the
colonial town into a little Rome was a matter of time only. The new comers
constructed a capitol, a forum, temples, triumphal arches, aqueducts,
markets; besides these, theatres, a circus, baths. In a very few years the
aspect of Arles was completely changed. A mercantile city of Græco-Gauls
had become Latinised, bureaucratic, and nattered itself that it was like
its new parent on the Tiber. It called itself _Gallula Roma, Arelas_.
[Illustration: An Arelaise. (_From a Photograph_)]
Consequently, we find in Arles 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
Arles 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 Arles. What is the more
singular is that this peculiarity of type is not noticeable among the men.
Among the women it is quite unmistakable. 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 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 Arles 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 Arles type of a very competent judge
perfectly acquainted with the whole of Provence:--"It can be affirmed
without contradiction that Greek beauty exists at Arles, 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 not study two or
three subjects, but must observe the whole population _en bloc_, and
especially compare it with the neighbouring populations. The result of such
a comparison brings out with force the grand lines constituting in the
Arelaise the character of a perfectly definite and distinct race." [1]
[Footnote 1: Lenthéric, _op. cit._]
[Illustration: Part of the Amphitheatre of Arles.]
As I have already mentioned the amphitheatre, I will begin my account of
the antiquities of Arles with that. In the Middle Ages it was turned into
a fortified _bourg_ in the heart of fortified Arles; 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 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 Arles.
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 promenade. 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 Arènes they are called, it was to see
a _Course aux Taureaux_. The Provençals are passionately fond of these
bull-baits, which take place weekly through the summer, beginning at
Easter, but it is only at Arles and Nimes that they are carried out in the
ancient Roman amphitheatres.
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 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 Provençal _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 man, who got up, shook himself, and
cleared the barricade.
[Illustration: Back of a house at Arles.]
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 wrench it from between the bull's horns, but not completely to
disengage it. 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 garment 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 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
themselves 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 Arles 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 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 Persæ of Æschylus 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 Arles 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 Arles 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 1651 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 Arles, an imitation or
reproduction of the celebrated Venus of Praxiteles, 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 Arles
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 countenance, 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 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 unspeakable foulness.
[Illustration: A boat with two rudders at Arles.]
In the museum may be seen some of the treasures from the theatre, a head of
Augustus, a so-called Livia, a bust of the 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.
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 Arles, 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.