_Villeneuve-sur-Avignon_
My walking was done. I had another day and a half for Avignon and a day
and a half for Arles, and that was to be the extent of this expedition.
I wish it could have included Carcassonne, which is not, however, in
Provence. But neither are Nîmes nor Aigues-Mortes, nor Saintes-Maries
nor Saint-Gilles, strictly speaking. The old province of Provence ended
with the Rhône, and Languedoc began on the other side of it. I should
have liked, too, to renew my acquaintance with Orange, and visited
Montelimar, if only for the sake of its _nougât_, and Martigues, and
half a dozen other towns. But it is not a bad thing to leave out some
places in a country one loves. There is always something to come back
for.
I have said nothing yet about Villeneuve, which, by the bye, is also
in Languedoc; but one can never forget it in Avignon. The great fort
of St. André frowns across the river on to the papal city; and the
tower of Philip le Bel, at which the Pont Bénezet used to end, is a
conspicuous object on the lower ground.
I suppose the two cities, one very much alive, the other almost dead,
are about a mile apart. The two branches of the Rhône and the Isle
de Barthelasse are between them. It seems a long way round by the
suspension bridge on a hot day, but it is worth going there, if only to
see Avignon from the other side. The city stands up magnificently, its
rock crowned by the cathedral and the palace.
But there is much to see in Villeneuve itself. There is a fine
fourteenth century church, which contains among other treasures a
wonderful ivory virgin and child, coloured, which was presented by
Cardinal Arnaud de Via, nephew of Pope John XXII, who founded the
church in 1333. It is kept in an ancient safe in the sacristy, and
there is a tremendous fuss of unlocking by various keys when it is
shown.
There is also the very fine Gothic tomb of Pope Innocent VI, which,
although much restored, is still in better preservation than the not
dissimilar one of John XXII in the cathedral at Avignon.
"When seen by Mérrimée in 1834," writes Mr. Okey, "the monument was
in the possession of a poor vine-grower and used as a cupboard; casks
were piled up against it, and all the beautiful alabaster statuettes
had been destroyed or sold. Another visitor of the period saw the
tomb in use as a rabbit hutch."[34]
The tomb stands in the middle of the little chapel of the Hôpital,
which also contains a small collection of paintings, one at least of
which is of first-rate importance. It represents the coronation of
the Virgin. It was long attributed to King René, as were most of the
pictures of its date of which the authorship was doubtful, then to Jan
van Eyck, and then to Van der Meere. But in 1889 the contract for its
painting was discovered, "drawn up in the spicer's shop of Jean Brea
at Avignon, between a priest, Jean de Montagnac, and Master Enguerrand
Charonton, of Laon, and dated April 24, 1453." As this contract shows
the sort of terms on which artists of the middle ages worked, and how
little was left to their own initiative, and is an interesting document
besides, it is worth quoting Mr. Okey's mention of it.
"Every detail is specified, narrowly and precisely, as in a contract
for building a house, and in order that the artist may have no excuse
for not following the specification, the details are written in
French, whereas the terms of the contract are in Latin. First, there
was to be the representation of a Paradise, and in this Paradise
must be (_doit estre_) the Holy Trinity. There is to be no difference
between the Father and the Son, and the Holy Ghost must be in the form
of a dove. Our Lady is to be crowned by the said Holy Trinity, and the
vestments are to be rich; that of Our Lady is to be cloth of white
damask, figured as may seem best to the said master. The disposition
of the angels and archangels, the cherubim, seraphim, prophets,
patriarchs and saints is specified in elaborate detail: moreover, all
the estates of the world are to be represented in the Paradise. Above
Paradise are to be the heavens, with sun and moon, and the Church of
St. Peter, and the walls of Rome are to be figured over against the
setting sun; and at the issue of the church is to be a pine cone of
bronze; thence spacious steps are to descend to the great piazza, and
a street is to lead to the bridge of St. Angelo, with houses and shops
of all kinds. The castle of St. Angelo must be also seen and many
churches; the Tiber is to be shown starting from Rome and entering the
sea; and on the sea are to be a certain number of galleys and ships.
Beyond the sea must be figured part of Jerusalem: first, the Mount of
Olives and the Crucifixion of my Saviour and a Carthusian in prayer
at the foot of the cross; and a little further the sepulchre of my
Saviour, and an angel saying: _Surrexit, non est hic_. At the foot
of the sepulchre shall be two (persons) praying; and at the right
side, the Vale of Jehosaphat, between two mountains, and in the valley
a church with the tomb of Our Lady, and an angel saying: _Assumpta
est_, etc., and there shall be a figure praying at the foot of the
tomb. On the left is to be a valley, wherein are three persons of one
and the same age, and from all these three shall shine forth rays of
the sun, and there shall be seen Abraham coming out of his tent and
worshipping the said three persons, saying, _Domini si inveni_, etc.;
on the second mountain shall be Moses tending his sheep, and a young
girl playing the pipes, and Our Lord in the burning bush, and Our Lord
shall say: _Moyses, Moyses_, and Moses shall answer, _Assum_. And
on the right shall be Purgatory with angels leading forth rejoicing
those that are going to Paradise, whereat the devils shall show forth
great grief. On the left side shall be Hell, and an angel is to be
seen comforting the souls in Purgatory. Then in the part where Hell
is shall be a devil, very hideous, turning his back to the angel and
casting certain souls into Hell which other devils are handing to
him. In Hell and Purgatory, too, all estates of the world are to be
represented according to the judgment of the master. The said picture
is to be painted in fine oil colour, and the blue must not be German
blue but fine blue of Acre; German blue may, however, be used on the
border. The gold used for the picture and the border must be fine
burnished gold. The said master is to display all his science in the
representation of the Holy Trinity and the Blessed Virgin, and the
rest may be painted according to his conscience. On the reverse of the
picture is to be painted a fine cloth of crimson damask figured with
fleur-de-lys. The said master is to have the said picture faithfully
done by St. Michael's Day, and to be paid 120 florins at 24 soldi
to the florin, of which sum the master had received 40 florins on
account; the balance is to be paid--20 florins when the picture was
half finished; 40, according to the rate of the progress of the
work thereafter; and the remaining 20 florins when the picture was
completed and delivered at the Carthusian Church."[35]
Almost an anecdotal picture! But a very beautiful one. It was amusing
to stand before it with this description in one's hand and pick
out the various commissions which Master Enguerrand Charonton so
conscientiously fulfilled. They could do these things, even at that
early date, without sacrificing composition or anything that is the
mark of a great picture in all ages. I think there are not many
artists who could do it now.
The sleepy high street, or what corresponded to such, of the once
famous city is full of memorials of its past grandeur, although they
are for the most part hidden behind the rows of ordinary looking
house-fronts. There are courtyards surrounded by stately buildings,
deposed from their once high estate, when the princes of the Church and
the great nobles of Provence had their summer palaces here; but the
main surprise that Villeneuve holds out to the visitor is the ruins of
the great charter house of the Val de Benediction, which was founded by
Innocent III, and so grew in importance that it became the second of
the Order.
It is a surprising place to visit. The circuit of the walls was a full
mile round, and they are mostly standing on the two sides towards
the open country. On the other two sides there are streets, and the
main entrance is in the Grande Rue--a fine gateway standing between
the house-fronts and leading by a vaulted passage to what is left
of the monastic buildings. These are all mixed up with houses and
cottages, some rebuilt from the old materials, others adapted for
modern dwellings out of the walls as they stood. At the Revolution
the monastery was sacked, and its buildings sold in small lots. There
are said to have been two hundred families of the poorer sort living
within the walls, and there are still a very large number, although the
whole is being very gradually bought up, and as much as possible of it
restored as an historical monument.
The church still stands, though in advanced ruin, and the chapel of the
Holy Trinity, built by Innocent VI retains some of its frescoes. There
are also the remains of a fine cloister, and in the cloister garth is
the eighteenth century rotunda, built over the old well of St. Jean. To
my mind, however, the interesting thing about these ruins are not the
important remains, but the endless little ones that one comes across as
one wanders about the narrow alleys and yards. There is probably not a
hovel that has not got something about it that tells of the past. As
I was poking about, two urchins accosted me and asked if I would like
to see the _plafond_. They took me to a house standing in a row of
others like it--a house of perhaps half a dozen rooms--and up a stone
stair into a bedroom of which the ceiling was painted, not in the least
ecclesiastically, but in a good eighteenth century style. It was in
excellent preservation, and indeed the whole house, into some of the
other rooms of which I peeped, was no more dilapidated than any house
might be that had come down in the world, but not so very far. I do not
know what purpose it may have served in the monastic days. I suppose
there were those in this great monastery who lived much in the style of
people outside, and this was the dwelling of one of them. The place was
a town in itself, and not a very small one.
[Illustration: A COURTYARD IN VILLENEUVE]
[Illustration: THE ROTUNDA AT VILLENEUVE]
The photograph of the Rotunda will give some idea of the sort of
buildings that now surround this and other remains of the past. A lane
runs round the two sides of the old walls that do not face the town,
and doors are cut into them leading to the houses inside, or into
their yards. The clearing out must be a very slow process, if all the
descendants of those who acquired the many "lots" at the Revolution are
to be removed. I doubt if the result will be worth while, except here
and there. The whole has been destroyed and altered past repair, and it
is interesting enough in its present state.
The mighty fort of St. André stands on the hill above the monastery.
With its double fortress towers and frowning battlements, it is the
most conspicuous object in Villeneuve as seen from Avignon, and Avignon
is seen from its heights, as well as the wonderful stretch of country
around, perhaps to greater advantage than from any other point.
Its long history was closed, except for later restorations, by an
occupation which Mr. Okey describes as follows:
"In the later years of the monarchy a post of artillery was stationed
in the fort, and it was from the fire of a battery planted there
that a young captain of artillery, one Napoleon Bonaparte, in 1793,
overawed the city of Avignon, which was occupied by the Marseillais
federalists who had declared against the Convention; and it was with
the cannon seized at St. André that Bonaparte marched to Toulon and
expelled the English from its harbour. The papal soldiery were ever
objects of scorn to the royalists of Villeneuve, who dubbed them
_patachines_ (_petachina_, Italian for slipper), and taunted them
with drilling under parasols--a pleasantry repaid by the Italians who
hurled the epithet _luzers_ (lizards) against the royalists, who were
said to pass their time sunning themselves against the hot rocks of
Villeneuve."[36]