FOIX AND ITS CHÂTEAU
Foix, of all the Préfectures of France of to-day, is the least
cosmopolitan. Privas, Mende and Digne are poor, dead, dignified relics
of the past; but Foix is the dullest of all, although it is a very gem
of a smiling, diffident little wisp of a city, green and flowery and
astonishingly picturesque. It has character, whatever it may lack in
progressiveness, and the brilliant colouring is a part of all the cities
of the South.
Above the swift flowing Ariège in their superb setting of mountain and
forest are the towers and parapets of the old château, in itself enough
to make the name and fame of any city.
Architecturally the remains of the Château de Foix do not, perhaps, rank
very high, though they are undeniably imposing; and it will take a
review of Froissart, and the other old chroniclers of the life and times
of the magnificent Gaston Phoebus, to revive it in all its glory. A
great state residence something more than a mere feudal château, it
does not at all partake of the aspect of a château-fort. It was this
last fact that caused the Comtes de Foix, when, by marriage, they had
also become seigneurs of Béarn, to abandon it for Mazères, or their
establishments at Pau or Orthez.
Foix nevertheless remained a proud capital, first independent, then as
part of the province of Navarre, then as a province of the Royaume de
France; and, finally, as the Préfecture of the Département of Ariège.
The population in later times has grown steadily, but never has the city
approached the bishopric of Pamiers, just to the northward, in
importance.
Many towns in this region have a decreasing population. The great cities
like Toulouse and Bordeaux draw upon the youth of the country for
domestic employment; and, lately, as chauffeurs and manicurists, and in
comparison to these inducements their native towns can offer very
little.
If one is to believe the tradition of antiquity the "_Rocher de Foix_,"
the tiny rock plateau upon which the château sits, served as an outpost
when the Phoceans built the primitive château upon the same site. Says a
Renaissance historian: "On the peak of one of nature's wonders, on a
rock, steep and inaccessible on all sides, was situated one of the most
ancient fortresses of our land."
In Roman times the site still held its own as one of importance and
impregnability. A representation of the château as it then was is to be
seen on certain coins of the period. This establishes its existence as
previous to the coming of the Visigoths in the beginning of the sixth
century. The first written records of the Château de Foix date from the
chronicles of 1002, when Roger-le-Vieux, Comte de Carcassonne, left to
his heir, Bernard-Roger, "_La Terre et le Château de Foix_."
The Château de Foix owes its reputation to its astonishingly theatrical
site as much as to the historic memories which it evokes, though it is
with good right that it claims a legendary renown among the feudal
monuments of the Pyrenees. All roads leading to Foix give a long vista
of its towered and crenelated château sitting proudly on its own little
_monticule_ of rock beside the Ariège. Its history begins with that of
the first Comtes de Foix, the first charter making mention thereof being
the last will and testament of Roger-Bernard, the first count, who died
in 1002.
During the wars against the Albigeois the château was attacked by Simon
de Montfort three times, in 1210, 1212, 1213, but always in vain.
Though the surrounding faubourgs were pillaged and burned the château
itself did not succumb. It did not even take fire, for its rocky base
gave no hold to the flames which burned so fiercely around it.
The most important event of the château's history happened in 1272 when
the Comte Roger-Bernard III rebelled against the authority of the
Seneschal-Royal of Toulouse. To punish so rebellious a vassal,
Philippe-le-Hardi came forthwith to Foix at the head of an army, and
himself undertook the siege of the château. At the end of three days the
count succumbed, with the saying on his lips that it was useless to cut
great stones and build them up into fortresses only to have them razed
by the first besiegers that came along. Whatever the qualifications of
the third Roger-Bernard were, consistent perseverance was not one of
them.
Just previous to 1215, after a series of intrigues with the church
authorities, the château became a dependence of the Pope of Rome; but at
a council of the Lateran the Comte Raymond-Roger demanded the justice
that was his, and the new Pope Honorius III made over the edifice to its
rightful proprietor.
During the wars of religion the château was the storm-centre of great
military operations, of which the town itself became the unwilling
victim. In 1561 the Huguenots became masters of the city.
Under Louis XIII it was proposed to raze the château, as was being done
with others in the Midi, but the intervening appeal of the governor
saved its romantic walls to posterity. In the reign of Louis XIV the
towers of the château were used as archives, a prison and a military
barracks, and since the Revolution--for a part of the time at least--it
has served as a house of detention. When the tragic events of the
Reformation set all the Midi ablaze, and Richelieu and his followers
demolished most of the châteaux and fortresses of the region, Foix was
exempted by special orders of the Cardinal-Minister himself.
Another war cloud sprang up on the horizon in 1814, by reason of the
fear of a Spanish invasion; and it was not a bogey either, for in 1811
and 1812 the Spaniards had already penetrated, by a quickly planned
raid, into the high valley of the Ariège.
In 1825 civil administration robbed this fine old example of mediæval
architecture of many of those features usually exploited by
antiquarians. To increase its capacity for sheltering criminal
prisoners, barracks and additions--mere shacks many of them--were built;
and the original outlines were lost in a maze of meaningless roof-tops.
Finally, a quarter of a century later, the rubbish was cleared away;
and, before the end of the century, restoration of the true and faithful
kind had made of this noble mediæval monument a vivid reminder of its
past feudal glory quite in keeping with its history.
[Illustration: _Ground Plan of the Château de Foix_]
The actual age of the monument covers many epochs. The two square towers
and the main edifice, as seen to-day, are anterior to the thirteenth
century, as is proved by the design in the seals of the Comtes de Foix
of 1215 and 1241 now in the _Bibliothèque Nationale_ in Paris. In
the fourteenth century these towers were strengthened and enlarged with
the idea of making them more effective for defence and habitation.
[Illustration: CHÂTEAU DE FOIX]
The escutcheons of Foix, Béarn and Comminges, to be seen in the great
central tower, indicate that it, too, goes back at least to the end of
the fourteenth century, when Eleanore de Comminges, the mother of Gaston
Phoebus, ruled the Comté.
[Illustration: _Key of the Vaulting, Château de Foix. Showing the Arms
of the Comtes de Foix_]
The donjon or _Tour Ronde_ arises on the west to a height of forty-two
metres; and will be remarked by all familiar with these sermons in stone
scattered all over France as one of the most graceful. Legend attributes
it to Gaston Phoebus; but all authorities do not agree as to this. The
window and door openings, the mouldings, the accolade over the entrance
doorway and the machicoulis all denote that they belong to the latter
half of the fifteenth century. These, however, may be later
interpolations.
Originally one entered the château from exactly the opposite side from
that used to-day. The slope leading up to the rock and swinging around
in front of the town is an addition of recent years. Formerly the
plateau was gained by a rugged path which finally entered the precincts
of the fortress through a rectangular barbican.
Finally, to sum it up, the pleasant, smiling, trim little city of Foix,
and its château rising romantically above it, form a delightful
prospect. Well preserved, well protected, and for ever free from further
desecration, the Château de Foix is as nobly impressive and glorious a
monument of the Middle Ages as may be found in France, as well as chief
record of the gallant days of the Comtes de Foix.
Foix' Palais de Justice, built back to back with the rock foundations of
the château, is itself a singular piece of architecture containing a
small collection of local antiquities. This old Maison des Gouverneurs,
now the Palais de Justice, is a banal, unlovely thing, regardless of its
high-sounding titles.
In the Bibliothèque, in the Hôtel de Ville, there are eight manuscripts
in folio, dating from the fifteenth century, and coming from the
Cathedral of Mirepoix. They are exquisitely illuminated with miniatures
and initials after the manner of the best work of the time.
It was that great hunter and warrior, Gaston Phoebus who gave the
Château de Foix its greatest lustre.
It was here that this most brilliant and most celebrated of the counts
passed his youth; and it was from here that he set out on his famous
expedition to aid his brother knights of the Teutonic Order in Prussia.
At Gaston's orders the Comte d'Armagnac was imprisoned here, to be
released after the payment of a heavy ransom. As to the motive for this
particular act authorities differ as to whether it was the fortunes of
war or mere brigandage.
They lived high, the nobles of the old days, and Froissart recounts a
banquet at which he had assisted at Foix, in the sixteenth century, as
follows:--
"And this was what I saw in the Comté de Foix: The Count left his
chamber to sup at midnight, the way to the great salle being led by
twelve varlets, bearing twelve illumined torches. The great hall was
crowded with knights and equerries, and those who would supped, saying
nothing meanwhile. Mostly game seemed to be the favourite viand, and the
legs and wings only of fowl were eaten. Music and chants were the
invariable accompaniment, and the company remained at table until after
two in the morning. Little or nothing was drunk."
Froissart's description of the table is simple enough, but he develops
into melodrama when he describes how the count killed his own son on the
same night--a tragic ending indeed to a brilliant banquet. "'Ha!
traitor,' the Comte said in the _patois_, as he entered his sleeping
son's chamber; 'why do you not sup with us? He is surely a traitor who
will not join at table.' And with a swift, but gentle drawing of his
_coutel_ (knife) across his successor's throat he calmly went back to
supper." Truly, there were high doings when knights were bold and
barons held their sway. They could combat successfully everything but
treachery; but the mere suspicion of that prompted them to take time by
the forelock and become traitors themselves.
Foix has a fête on the eighth and ninth of September each year, which is
the delight of all the people of the country round about. Its chief
centre is the Allées de Vilote, a great tree-shaded promenade at the
base of the château. It is brilliantly lively in the daytime, and
fairy-like at night, with its trees all hung with great globes of light.
A grand ball is the chief event, and the "Quadrille Officiel" is opened
with the maire and the préfet at the head. After this comes _la fête
générale_, when the happy southrons know no limit to their gaieties.
There are three great shaded promenades, and in each is a ball with its
attendant music. It is a pandemonium; and one has to be habituated to
distinguish the notes of one blaring band from the others. The central
park is reserved for the country folk, that on the left for the town
folk, and that on the right for the nobility. This, at any rate, was the
disposition in times past, and some sort of distinction is still made.
In suburban Foix, out on the road to Pamiers, is the little village of
St. Jean-de-Vergues. It has a history, of course, but not much else. It
is a mere spot on the map, a mere cluster of houses on the _Grande
Route_ and nothing more. In the days of the Comte Roger-Bernard,
however, when he would treat with the king of France, and showed his
willingness to become a vassal, its inhabitants held out beyond all
others for an "_indépendance comtale_." They didn't get it, to be sure,
but with the arrival of Henri Quatre on the throne of France, the
vassalage became more friendly than enforced.