_Les Baux_
As I got out of the train the rain ceased, though there looked to be
more to come, and I walked the three miles to Les Baux with the sun
shining, and the birds singing among the drenched leaves of the trees.
I was faced by the craggy rampart of the Alpilles, which hang over the
great plain, and were once sea cliffs washed by the Mediterranean. They
are of white limestone, and rise in places to a height of close upon a
thousand feet. Just at this point they thrust themselves forward in a
series of fantastic crags, rising up sheer from the plain and crowned
by great masses of gleaming rocks that look almost as if they had been
placed there by some giant hand.
I knew that Les Baux was upon one of these crags, and thought that I
remembered which it was. But there was nothing of it to be seen from
the plain. The line of cliffs was quite bare; the road might have been
leading over some deserted col to fairer regions beyond. No one could
have guessed himself to be nearing the remains of a once flourishing
city.
The road led up through a fertile valley in which there were fields and
scattered houses and gardens, and some sort of a mill. The cliff rose
abruptly to the right, and at a turn of the road--the green valley now
lying some way below--there came into view the walls of a few houses.
They were perched up high overhead, and seemed to be growing out of
the cliff itself, as indeed they were; for half of this strange city
is built out of the solid rock, and its ruins remain part of the cliff
from which they were hewn.
The road has been remade, so that it now zigzags steeply to an entrance
from the north. But the foot passenger can leave it and take a still
steeper track to the ancient gateway that was once the chief entrance
into this eagle's aerie. It is called the Porte d'Eyguières, and
is still in a good state of preservation, with the grooves of its
portcullis to be seen, and a stone bearing the arms of the Lords of
Les Baux--the star with sixteen rays which marks their descent from
Balthasar, one of the wise kings from the East, who brought gifts to
the Infant Christ.
A steep and narrow lane leads up through the still inhabited quarter of
the town, past the old but rebuilt Hôtel de Ville to the place where
the new road comes in and the two inns are situated. So far there is
nothing particularly to strike the visitor--nothing at all to compare
for picturesqueness with the old hill towns of western Provence, from
which I had come. Picturesqueness is not the note of Les Baux, and in
the lower quarter of the town the air is rather that of a poor village
which contains the bare remnants of some past importance.
But as one mounts up towards the summit of the crag this impression
of something like squalor gives place to a very different one. The
inhabited cottages are soon left behind. They have already been seen to
be interspersed with the ruins of noble mansions, and to be themselves,
for the most part, salvage from greater buildings. They line a narrow,
winding street, paved with rock in which the ruts of old cartwheels
are worn, just as they are in the streets of Pompeii. And now there is
nothing but ruin on either side, except where part of a great house has
been put into some sort of repair for the purposes of a museum. It is
ruin complete and irreparable; but it is not like other ruins. There
stands up a bare wall, with apertures for windows and doors; and it is
seen to be, not the remains of a structure of built-up stones, but a
shell of living rock, from which the inside has been scooped, like a
cheese with nothing left but the rind.
Now one is on the summit of the crag. It is a wide, grassy platform,
upon which rear themselves huge masses of rock cut into the forms of
towers and battlements, like a giant's castle in some fantastic dream.
The castle itself stands back on the northern edge of the cliff. Nearer
at hand are the remains of dwellings that are nothing but caves in
great jutting masses of rock. But they are caves with a difference.
They are carefully squared chambers, with chimney places still showing
the marks of fire, with holes into the walls that were once cupboards,
with ceilings cut into so as to provide hanging for lamps. They are
open to the south, and the entrances blocked with débris; but there is
no doubt that they were once merely the back parts of houses, which
showed fronts as well built as some of those still standing in the
streets below.
The grassy height is strewn with the stones of many buildings quite
destroyed, but once it contained the ordered precincts of the great
pile that nothing has been able completely to destroy. It stands grim
and majestic, towering over the whole mass of tumbled walls and the few
roofs and chimneys that are all that remain of the rich city. One can
see stone stairs and galleries high up in the rock and can mount up to
some of them. The dungeon, cut out of solid stone, shows a yawning hole
in the ground. It lies open to the sky, but the ribs of its vaulting
are still seen springing from the corners. Two sides of a rock hard by
are scooped into cells. This was the great castle dovecot. There is a
little ruined chapel, its roof delicately carved.
[Illustration: THE CASTLE RUINS, LES BAUX]
[Illustration: THE CASTLE DOVECOT, LES BAUX]
From the summit of the castle there is a magnificent view of the great
plain to the south. It includes the whole extent of the Crau; and now
you can see which part of it has been fertilized, with the threads
of canals running through it, and which part still remains in its
stony desolation. The great lagoon, called the Etang de Berre, lies
a glistening sheet almost on the horizon, and you can just descry
the line of the sea beyond it. To the right you see Arles and the
famous abbey of Montmajour, and the Rhône rolling its turgid waters
through the plain of the Camarque, to where Stes. Maries rears its
fortress church on the edge of the sea, and the holy men and women from
Palestine miraculously landed. It is very far away, but there is hardly
so much as a hillock between you and it.
From here too can be seen the strange, blanched desolation of the
valleys that creep up into the solitudes of these stony hills. They
are strewn with gigantic rocks that take on all sorts of fantastic
tortured shapes. Part of it is called the Val d'Enfer, and it is said
that Dante, who is known to have sojourned in Arles, took from it the
scenery of his Inferno. In the spring it is lightened with the delicate
flush of almond blossom, and Les Baux is beautiful with the silvers
and blues and purples of its surrounding country, and its own wild
aspect of strength and desolation. But its appeal is to the past, and
without some knowledge of its history it must present itself as an
almost undecipherable riddle.
We need not linger over the importance that this natural fortress had
in the time of Marius, who had camps very near to Les Baux, and perhaps
on the very spot; nor the story of the Christians who were driven to
take refuge here by Alaric the Visigoth. The first of the long line of
the counts of Les Baux who is known to history was Leibulf, who lived
at the end of the eighth century. From that time, until the year 1426,
when the death of the Princess Alix at last brought it to an end, it
continually increased in wealth and importance, until it vied with
the rest of the royal houses in Europe. Yes; this deserted, almost
forgotten city, which now contains a bare hundred of inhabitants,
was the seat of princes who intermarried with the reigning families
of England, France, Poland, Savoy, Nassau, Brunswick and many more.
It was the centre of a principality that included seventy-nine towns
and bourgs, villages, or castles. Its rulers were Princes of Orange,
besides, from which our own royal house is sprung; they derived
titles from Milan, Naples, Piedmont, Marseilles and elsewhere;
they were kings of Arles and Vienne; Princes of Achaia, Counts of
Provence, Cephalonia, Spoleto, and other places; finally emperors of
Constantinople, and that this was not an empty title is shown by the
fact that an embassy was sent to a reigning princess of Les Baux to
treat for her rights as empress. In the twelfth century the towns owned
by the prince of Les Baux included Aix, Saint-Remy, Salon, Pertvis, and
the Bourg-Neuf at Arles. The possessions of "La Baussenique" already
made of it a second Provence. Indeed, Raymond des Baux, who died in
1150, claimed, through his marriage with the daughter of the Count of
Provence, the whole of the country, and fought for it until his death.
There was continual fighting, with Les Baux as its centre, during the
Middle Ages, and sometimes its lords were on the summit of fortune,
sometimes forced to give up some of their lands. They fought with the
Saracen corsairs, with the counts of Barcelona and kings of Aragon,
with the counts of Anjou and Poitou, the king of Naples, and many more.
They went crusading with the rest, and one of them is mentioned with
honour in the pages of Froissart.
It was at the siege of La Reole in Gascony. The Earl of Derby lay
before it for nine weeks, and the townspeople were so reduced by
starvation that they wished the place to be given up. But Sir Agos des
Baux, who commanded the troops, would not consent to this, and retired
to the castle, with plenty of wine and other provisions. The castle had
been erected by the Saracens, and was much stronger than the English
had supposed. So they prepared to mine under it, and then the garrison
grew alarmed. So "Sir Agous dyscendedde downe fro the hygh towre, and
dyd put out his heed at a lytell wyndo, and make a token to speke with
some of the host." Lord Derby, Sir Walter Manny and Lord Stafford
came to parley with him, and he offered to give up the fortress if he
and his troops might retain "our lyves and goodes saved." Lord Derby
replied, "Sir Agos, Sir Agos, you will not get off so. We know your
distress, and will receive only an unconditional surrender." Then Sir
Agos said that he would trust to the honour of the English, and Lord
Derby, commending his gallantry, granted honourable surrender to the
garrison, with their armour.
"Then they dyd on their harnesse and toke their horses, whereof they
hadde no mo but sixe; some bought horses of thenglysshmen, the whiche
they payed for truely. Thus Sir Agous de Baus departed fro the Ryoll,
and yelded up the castele to the Englysshemen, and Sir Agos and his
company wente to Tholons."
One of the bloodiest struggles of all that had surrounded Les Baux took
place when the Princess Alix succeeded to its sovereignty at the age
of seven, and it was twenty-six long years before she was able, as a
widow, to take up her residence in her much battered but still noble
castle.
She was the ward of the Viscount of Turenne, the "Scourge of Provence,"
who married her at the age of thirteen to a young noble whom he
thought he could use for his own purposes, which were of course to get
possession of his ward's property. But Adon de Villers unexpectedly
decided to fight him, and succeeded in gaining valuable support, from
the neighbouring cities, and from the Pope himself, who was then
seated at Avignon. Besides men at arms, the Pope launched a threat of
excommunication against Turenne, who laughed at it, and said that for
a thousand florins he could get more soldiers than the Pope for seven
years of plenary absolution. He was not in the least particular where
he got his fighters from. He allowed a robber-chief to seize and sack
Les Baux itself and to murder and pillage in all the country round,
and he roused the Mediterranean pirates to spread further devastation
through the lands of his ward.
But, in the meantime, the Pope who had been deified died, and it
happened that the King of France had a quarrel with his successor and
sent troops against him under Marshal Boucicaut. When this little
affair was settled Boucicaut turned his attention to Turenne, whose
daughter he had married. As persuasion was useless, he besieged and
took Les Baux and other towns, and Turenne was brought to his knees.
He broke out again immediately afterwards, and there is no knowing how
much longer the poor Princess Alix could have been kept out of her
rights if he had not been accidentally drowned while he was crossing
the Rhône.
Her castle was almost defenceless, but she married again and lived in
it in peace for another twenty-four years. When she lay dying, it is
said that a bright star descended from the heavens and entered her
room, hanging over her until she breathed her last, when it faded away.
It was thought to be that very Star of the East which had shone upon
the founder of her long race, now extinguished with her.
Mr. T. A. Cook, in his admirable book on Provence, from which I have
chiefly drawn for the above facts, gives an account of the inventory
of Princess Alix's household effects, made for the crown after her
death. It makes a welcome impression of peace and luxury, which no one
can feel inclined to grudge this much-tried lady after the strife and
bloodshed with which half of her life had been surrounded, and shows
the grim castle of Les Baux in a light that is pleasant to contemplate.
"The entrance-courtyard of the château lay to the south. The chapel of
Ste. Marie, with its vaulted roof, was in the rez-de chaussée, near
several large reception-rooms, with kitchens, bakery, larders, and
cellars beneath them. Above were fifteen more out of the thirty-five
rooms. That in which Alix died was situated in a tower, beneath a
granary. It was furnished with two candlesticks of silver, with plate
of silver and of gold, with many lengths of tapestry, and with fine
Eastern rugs. In the oaken chests were robes of silk and velvet,
of cloth of gold, and 'vair'; furs, belts, eight rosaries set with
pearls, prayer-books, and books of hours, bound in red cloth of gold,
with clasps of silver-gilt. Within the 'Chambre de la Rose' were more
books of prayer, bound in cloth of gold and pearls, and set in a case
of stamped leather, bound with a silver band all gilt with fleurs de
lys. The chapel and its vestry were filled with rich ecclesiastical
garments and plate, chalices, pattens, candlesticks, and reading-desks,
in gold and silver-gilt, enriched with gems, enamel, and embroidery, a
number of illuminated liturgies, and a set of tapestries, showing the
adoration of the Magi, with Balthasar, the traditional ancestor of the
house. In other rooms were tables with huge legs enriched with carving,
long seats that opened to form linen-chests, sideboards in solid
worked wood, cupboards let straight into the stone, and lined with
cedar. In the larders and cellars were tuns of wine, both white and
red, great store of nuts and grain, piles of salt beef and pork, rows
of fishing-nets, and stronger nets for hunting the stag and the wild
boar; with herds of cattle, pigs, and sheep, in the pastures below, and
nearly fifty chickens. In the halls and passages were trophies of arms,
cuirasses, helmets, arbalètes, coulevrines, bombardelles, lances; and
swords; 'the most of them rusty,' for their day was over; the furniture
was partly sold by order of the king, partly bequeathed to the Bishop
of Tortosa, and partly sent over to the Château of Tarascon."
The princedom of Les Baux now became merged in that of Provence, and
a few years later the good King René succeeded to its honours. As Les
Baux had been famous in the annals of the Troubadours, it is probable
that he took considerable interest in the romantic place. He restored
the ramparts and the towers of the castle, and made over the barony for
life to his second wife, Jeanne de Laval, whose kneeling figure faces
him in the Triptych at Aix. There is a charming little reminder of her
still to be seen at Les Baux. In the valley beneath the fortress-rock
is a square walled-in field which was once a garden. In a corner of it
is a little stone pavilion with delicately carved Renaissance work,
upon which time and weather have had very little effect. There was
once one of these in each corner, but all signs of the others have
disappeared, as well as the "knots" and parterres and treillages and
the beds of sweet smelling herbs that lay between them. The one that
is left is called the Pavillon de la Reine Jeanne, and if it did not,
actually belong to her, which it probably did not, for she would have
had her pleasaunce nearer to the castle, it must have given delight to
some fair lady of her court, or to the wife of one of the Provençal
nobles whose mansions lined the narrow streets of Les Baux. Fine as
their remains show them to have been, they had no more ground attached
to them than a house in a street of Mayfair, and it is agreeable to
think that it was possible at this time for the ladies of Les Baux to
enjoy a garden outside the fortifications, and not to be cooped up day
after day within the protecting walls.
Soon after the principality of Les Baux became merged in that of
Provence, Provence itself came to the throne of France. Louis XI
was on the throne, and in the last year of his reign he ordered the
destruction of the ramparts and the castle of Les Baux. It was not the
first time that the castle had been destroyed, and it was not to be the
last. Its immense strength seems to have given it a sort of vitality
that suffered dismemberment without complete destruction, and even
now it seems not to be quite dead, though it is long since it was at
last rendered uninhabitable. Probably on this occasion it was only the
offensive and defensive parts of the castle that were destroyed, for
fifty years later, during a royal progress through Provence, Francis I
visited it with a brilliant train, and was entertained there by his own
High Constable, Anne de Montmorency, to whom he had given the barony of
Les Baux. Another royal visit, in 1614, ended in sad disaster. The Duc
de Guise was entertained one Sunday in May in the castle, and at every
toast that was drunk there was a salvo of artillery. Being probably a
little flushed with wine, the prince announced his intention of firing
a cannon himself. The cannon exploded and shattered his leg, and a few
days later he was buried at St. Trophime in Arles.
In the sixteenth century Les Baux, still in the thick of whatever
strife was going forward, became the battleground of Catholics and
Protestants. In 1543 Claude de Savoie, Count of Tende, who was
Seneschal of Provence, took up his residence in the castle, and
stayed there for a year trying to bring peace between the factions.
In 1561 the Protestants got into Les Baux, and made havoc, quite in
the old-fashioned way. In three months they were turned out, not at
all gently. But two years later they were back again, not only free
to practise their religion, but with the governor, Jehan de Manville,
a convert to it. He converted part of his house into a chapel to the
Huguenots. The house is in ruins, but there is enough left to show what
a fine one it was, and among the remains is a pedimented Renaissance
window of the chapel, with the famous Reformation motto carved over it
in stone: "Post Tenebras Lux," and the date 1571.
[Illustration: PAVILLON DE LA REINE JEANNE]
[Illustration: HUGUENOT CHAPEL IN LES BAUX]
This family of Manvilles is the most important in the annals of Les
Baux after that of its titulary princes. They held some sort of
seignorial authority for about a hundred years, but in 1621 the fourth
and last of them had to resign his rights for continuing to harbour the
Protestants.
A few years later the prosperity of Les Baux departed. Louis XIII
sent troops against its last seigneur, Antoine de Villeneuve, who was
an adherent of the Duke of Orleans, and Richelieu ordered the final
destruction of the castle.
This time the work was done thoroughly. But the stout old pile made a
resistance of its own. It took a month to demolish it, and gunpowder
had to be used to blow it up. And even now there is a great deal of it
left.
After that Les Baux steadily declined until it became no more than a
refuge for a handful of peasants, who squatted amongst the ruins, fed
their sheep where the grass grew over the castle courts, and cultivated
a few fields outside. But it kept one church out of its five or six,
and has always had some sort of corporate life. It is a little more
prosperous now, because of its visitors; but compared with its rich
past the life is a mere trickle, and only the ruins remain to tell of
what it once was.