A Pilgrimage to Auvergne/Vol 1/Chapter 14

Our road to Dijon from Montbard was through St. Seine, as we were anxious to arrive by the magnificent Val de Suzon, of which we had heard so much. The country is pretty the whole way, but has no remarkable features. St. Seine is in a deep valley, and the approach to it is very picturesque, but there is nothing worthy of much remark in the town: the buildings of its ancient abbey have disappeared except a few, which formed part of the residence of its abbots, and they are so built into modern houses as to be scarcely recognizable. The inn at which we slept had a curious winding stair in a turret, and appeared to have been part of an ancient construction. The church is much defaced, but must once have ​been very grand: there are still remains of fine architecture and ornament in its pillars, open stone galleries, and elevated arches. Two altars, placed at the entrance and supporting the holy water, have every appearance of having a Pagan origin: they are adorned with grapes and foliage, and small animals, amongst which the snail is conspicuous. One would imagine they must have stood in a temple of Bacchus. One altar and chapel of the fifteenth century have been well restored: in another and on the walls are some very curious fresco paintings of very early date, exhibiting scenes in which the Dukes of Burgundy and their attendants figure. The source of the river Seine is at a little distance from the town, and seems to have supplied the Romish calendar with the saint who presides over the spot.

Nothing can be grander or more imposing than the entrance of the deep gorge of the Val de Suzon: its sombre forests, enormous wild rocks, and sheer precipices give a lively idea of the scenery of the Alps. Beside the high road, which is extremely good, rise immense masses of rock of the most singular form, jagged and pointed, and taking the shape of castles and towers of gigantic proportions. On one side, starting from the profound ravine beneath, is a ​steep flat rock, entirely perpendicular, crowned with a thick forest of dark foliage: this extends its long uninterrupted wall for a great distance, closing in the valley; huge rugged blocks of grey stone are scattered here and there over the mountains, and in some parts of the road the rocks are so high that the eye can scarcely reach their summit. There are grottoes filled with stalactites in the neighbourhood, which are reported to be very fine.

Four leagues beyond this the town of Dijon is reached, which is certainly one of the cleanest and handsomest in France, and deserves to be still, as formerly, the capital of Burgundy. The position of Dijon is very advantageous, at the foot of a chain of mountains, commanded by the Mont Afrique, and in the midst of a fertile plain, which extends as far as Franche Comté and Savoy. The streets are wide and open, the houses and hotels well built of stone, the ramparts agreeable, and offering the most delightful views on all sides. The public walks are remarkably good and of extraordinary extent, the five entrance gates handsome, and though but little of antiquity remains within its walls it cannot fail to be pleasing and admired. The absence, however, of those antiquities of which the traveller has ​heard so much, and which on his first arrival he so eagerly seeks, causes a feeling of disappointment to take possession of his mind, which may influence him during the stay, and prevent him from being as much pleased with Dijon as he might otherwise have been.

This was my own case when I discovered that the splendid tombs of the Dukes of Burgundy, so celebrated and so valued, were all destroyed but two,—and those two had been restored, bit by bit, from a mass of mutilation which had involved all that was to be found in the churches of Dijon! Even these are no longer seen in the Cathedral of St. Benigne, where they were placed after being taken from the Chartreux, but must be sought in a chamber of the musée. This chamber, however, is worthy to enclose such relics, for it is one of the salles of the Palais des Etats, and is preserved almost entire, the carved walls, ceilings, gallery, and magnificent chimney presenting a whole of extreme beauty and grandeur.

Here are placed the tombs of Jean sans Peur, and his wife Marguérite de Bavière, and of Philippe le Hardi.

Nothing can be more exquisitely executed than the figures of the little Chartreux, who stand in niches round the tomb in different ​attitudes of grief. The draperies, the features, and the expression are perfect; the tabernacle work, round and above them, is rich in the extreme, and the restorations are conducted with great taste; but the same can scarcely be said of the principal figures themselves, which, though well restored as far as regards joining the shattered parts, are painted to imitate the original, and the opaque and coarse manner in which this is done is a sad contrast to the little which still remains of the old ornament. The hands of the duke are old, and quite unique in their delicate form and colouring, the veins and small bones and muscles brought out with the minuteness of miniature, and the colour transparent and life-like; while the dull thick plaister, daubed by a modern hand over the faces, is extremely disagreeable to the eye, making these venerable statues look like painted wooden dolls, thus deforming the clear alabaster, which is plainly seen through the delicate stain of the ancient master's pencil.

Although very fine, these tombs never could have compared with those beautiful monuments of the Dukes of Brétagne, one of which, that of Duke Francis II. at Nantes, enraptures the beholder by its inimitable grace and exquisite minuteness of detail. I had expected to see ​this surpassed, but found that the talent of the Burgundians for embellishment had been exerted in this instance, for these famous works of art I have seen equalled in many churches both at home and abroad, which I think cannot be said of the treasure of the Cathedral of Nantes.

But perhaps the modern artist deserves more praise than blame, for it seems that these fine monuments, famous for ages, were at the Revolution knocked to pieces with the utmost care that malice could bring to the work of destruction; but for the number of these beautiful little figures, all must have disappeared, but many have escaped, and are still preserved in the museum, each being an evidence of the extraordinary skill of the sculptor. They are of white marble, this material and alabaster forming the tombs; angels, lions, shields, canopies, all are dispersed, and, considering the state of degradation in which the débris were found, it is creditable that they should have been put together as well as they are. The charm of harmony is, however, gone, and it is more congenial to look at these weeping and lamenting monks in their isolated state, than to see them brought together at random, and probably standing in niches which do not belong to them. ​One of the most beautiful of the tombs was that of Philippe le Bon, and Bonne d'Artois his wife, which has disappeared altogether: the following verses were written by a poet of the time, in honour of the fair duchess, who, after a short year of happy marriage, died in child-birth, 15th September 1425, in her palace at Dijon, regretted by her husband and her subjects.

Guillaume Vaudrey, a knight and a minstrel, thus laments her in quaint strains, which disclose some curious particulars of the habits and customs of her time:

The poet's wish was accomplished, for Philippe espoused in 1429 Isabella, daughter of John, King of Portugal, who brought him, be​sides several other children, Charles le Téméraire, who succeeded him.

When Francis I. visited Dijon in 1521, he was anxious to see the head of Jean sans Peur, who was killed at the bridge of Montereau, by Tanneguy de Chatel. The tomb was opened, and the king regarded with surprise the large mark of the wound. "Be not astonished, sire," said the prior of the Chartreux, who was on the spot, "it was by this opening that the English made a passage into France."

At Dijon almost all the recollections of ancient times must be sought for in the wrecks which have been gathered into the museum, and very little even there remains. Of the once unrivalled and far-famed Sainte Chapelle not even a stone is left: where it stood is now the new Salle de Spectacle and the market for fruit.

This magnificent edifice, which for several centuries received additions to its beauty, was founded in 1172 by Duke Hugues III., and was not finished till the time of Louis XIII. The order of Toison d'Or, instituted by Philippe le Bon, held its chapters here and had its college. It was here that, surrounded by his preux, the knights of the houses of Vergy, Vienne, Baupremont, Damas, and the flower of the nobles ​of his states, the Duke of Burgundy, after having had his banners blessed with great pomp, a second time took his way to Palestine.

In this church was carefully preserved a Host, sent to Philippe le Bon, in 1433, by Pope Eugène IV. It was held in great veneration at Dijon, and was placed in a case of pure gold enriched with precious stones, and surmounted by the golden crown which Louis XII. wore on the day of his coronation, and which he had sent to Dijon by two heralds-at-arms. This treasure was placed in a golden coffer adorned with all the jewels which Isabella the Duchess had presented to the Sainte Chapelle in honour of the sacred relic.

This chapel, a chef-d'œuvre of art, was, after suffering from revolutionary rage, finally sold by auction, and entirely demolished in 1807.

A beautiful model in wood, which gives a correct representation of the building, and is in part ancient, is preserved in the museum, and shows how much has been lost by the town in its destruction. Another exquisite model is that of the cross of the famous Puits de Moïse, part of which still exists in a private house, but which we could not see, as workmen are now engaged in repairing the reservoir: it is another ornament of this collection, and does the ut​most credit to the artist who has so faithfully copied one of the most elegant and graceful pieces of sculpture that can be imagined. Figures of prophets, amongst whom Moses is conspicuous, support the cross, their attitudes and expressions of great variety and majesty. The original was by Claux Sluter, the statuary, who made the tomb of Philippe le Hardi. He was from Holland, and retired to the monastery of St. Etienne, where he finished his career.

There is a large collection of paintings in the museum, most of them copies of good masters, and none very remarkable for merit, except the works of a native of Dijon, Colson, all of which are good. One, a young girl surprised by sleep, who holds in a riband a canary bird which a cat is watching from behind a screen, is charmingly natural and full of grace and spirit, and worthy to rank with some of the best of Greuze.

Some singular pictures of saints, virgins, and a royal marriage by Tassel, a painter of the seventeenth century, born at Langres, attract the attention, and a series of ancient portraits of dukes and bishops of Dijon are interesting. One little gem, attributed to Albert Durer, deserves particular mention. It is the head of John the Baptist in a charger of gold richly ​chased. All round are angels, of miniature proportions, each plunged into the deepest grief, and in attitudes of childish sorrow quite irresistible. One is seated on the edge of the dish, his head buried in his hands, which lean on his knees, while his little cheeks are red and swollen, and his eyes overflowing with tears: another is kneeling on the forehead of the saint, and is endeavouring to raise his eyelid, which he has partially effected, his own streaming meanwhile. One, given up to despair, is tearing his pretty curls, and evidently screaming with distress as he flies up to Heaven on variegated wings others are locked in each other's arms weeping bitterly, and will not be comforted. A beautiful painted frame, adorned with flowers, surrounds the chief figures, and medallions in compartments represent the story of John the Baptist all round. This lovely little picture is in perfect preservation, and is a treasure of delicacy: the drawing is extremely good, the colouring vivid, and the truth of the head itself is admirable.

Another precious and curious picture is a portrait of Diane de Poitiers, one very likely to have resembled the famous favourite. She is represented entirely without drapery, and is seen three-quarter length, her form extremely ​lovely, and the complexion delicately fair, her face a long oval, and the nose long and well formed, the hands and arms of remarkable beauty. Before her is a table strewed with roses, and on it stands a small ornamented casket full of jewels: she is taking a string of pearls from it. Some gilded figures support a splendid mirror which reflects her face: her bright auburn hair is dressed in a crescent shape, as usual, and an ornament of pearls and gold forms a kind of coronet on the top, with one large pearl depending on the high white forehead: her throat is encircled by a collar covered with jewels, with a circle of pearls above it. Such a collar the early pictures of Mary Stuart represent her as wearing. Her eyes are dark and expressive, the eyebrows delicately pencilled, and the whole face very beautiful. In the background two attendants are kneeling before a coffer, from which they seem taking dresses.

Amongst the relics of the middle ages, in which the museum is rich as well as in objects of Roman and Egyptian art, are five richly wrought ivory boxes belonging to the toilet-table of a Duchess of Burgundy—her escarcelle or reticule; eight knives and three forks used by the écuyer tranchant of the Duke of Bur​gundy; a poignard, étui, and knife of the same; the cross of St. Robert abbot of Citeaux, and a ring of another abbot; the cup of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, and numerous other very interesting curiosities; several very fine enamels of Limoges, and numerous mosaics, all of superior merit.

The Jardin des Plantes of Dijon is finely situated, and is very rich in curious shrubs: it occupies the site of the once famous convent of Chartreux, where the Dukes of Burgundy were entombed, and which was an emporium of magnificent monuments of all kinds. In the Jardin de l'Arquébuse which adjoins, are the fine poplars which have long been the boast of Dijon two are of great size, the largest quite gigantic, both as to its height and girth; it is a magnificent object, both in the garden and at a distance, from one of the fine promenades leading to it. Although all the trees here are very antique and of remarkable height, these two rise so far above the rest that they form a leafy spire conspicuous afar. They are of great age, but still look very vigorous. All round the shaded retreat in which they grow we observed at intervals beautiful erections, like chapels, with exquisitely worked arches and colonnades: they ​seemed of alabaster, and the richest and most delicate workmanship adorned them these we found had always existed, and were the sole remains of the buildings connected with the Chartreux. Probably they were then, as they might be now, summer-houses for the recreation of the monks, who seemed to deny themselves no sort of enjoyment in their charming retreats, where all that riches could procure was at their disposal. The disgusting state in which these beautiful little alcoves are allowed to remain, prevented us from entering them, and the sadly neglected appearance of this part of the gardens does little credit to the Dijonnais. The Cabinet d'Histoire Naturelle and Bibliothèque are both good.

That in which Dijon is superior to most towns in France is the surpassing beauty of its public walks, which are really as fine as they have the reputation of being; a fact somewhat rare, particularly in Burgundy, where a passion for exaggeration is very prevalent. The promenade, called Cours du Parc, which leads to the park, and was called in 1610 Cours de la Reine, was begun under the government of the Grand Condé, and finished under that of the Duc d'Enghein, his son; this walk, in the style of the Champs Elysées of Paris, but much more picturesque, ​from the open country and fine hills beyond, on each side, is nearly two miles long; at about half its length there is a circular opening, used as a place of exercise for the troops, and at the extremity of its continuation the park is reached, which was laid out by Le Nôtre, and is a magnificent place for the resort of the public.

This park formerly belonged to the Princes of Condé, who delighted in affording the people permission to walk there. Louis XIV. in 1673, gave the sum of forty thousand livres to be expended in beautifying it. It is said that the first time he saw the Cours and the park, in 1683, he was so struck with it that he pronounced it the finest plantation in the kingdom.

The entrance gate is grand and simple: the iron grille which closed it was taken away on the 13th July 1792, to leave a free passage for the march of the Confédérés.

This reunion was formed of the departments of the ancient province of Burgundy, and was composed of more than five thousand national guards, commanded by the young Count de Buffon, who perished in 1794, a victim of the reign of terror! In vain, on the scaffold did the unfortunate heir of the immortal Buffon invoke the manes of his father, nothing could ​appease the fury of those butchers in the pay of the execrable Robespierre.

The promenades on the ramparts are delightful on every side: those beneath and beyond, planted in what must formerly have been the moats and outer defences, all are charming; in fact it is impossible anywhere to possess greater conveniences for out-of-door amusement than at Dijon, and here, for the first time, we observed an appearance of enjoyment amongst the population, not merely confined to the lower orders, for whose exclusive entertainment and recreation everything seems made in France. Along the alleys leading to the park, ladies may be met on horseback, accompanied by their cavaliers; groups of walkers are seen, as in the Champs Elysées at Paris; elegant toilettes appear, and the actual existence is evident of a genteel middle class, rarely to be found out of Paris. Indeed, the total absence of this class throughout the country renders the towns extremely dull; in every town there are promenades, but no persons are to be seen there but the common people, whose costume, though picturesque sometimes, in a landscape, is sufficiently monotonous unmixed with others of a more refined stamp. To an eye accustomed as we are in England to see a crowd composed of all ranks, it is dreary ​and unpleasant to meet with no figures but those of peasants, in places where their manners are unsuitable; and the knowledge of the reasons for this exclusiveness makes the fact less pleasant still. It cannot be concealed from the observer of the present state of France, that the superior orders live in a state of constant fear of those beneath them. The arrogance and purse-proud insolence of the latter, when circumstances bring forth an expression of their opinions, explains this feeling; their envy and hatred of all those above them, and their ignorant assumption, is too apparent to escape comment; and the only way to prevent unpleasant collision seems, to the better educated and gentler nurtured part of the community, to be by retiring and leaving the coast clear for the all-powerful and all-engrossing people; who, in proportion as their wealth has increased, have lost all respect and deference for others, and though not a whit superior, by education, to their former selves, they are always looking forward to the time when an equal division of property shall make them superior to those who are not yet altogether degraded from a rank to which they were born.

This, however, applies less to Dijon than to most other places, at least as far as outward ​appearance goes; for here there is more appearance of ease and comfort, and less evidence of mistrust than in any town we had seen; consequently Dijon is by far the most agreeable place of residence in this part of France, and as it is on the high road from Switzerland and Italy, there is a movement and life which is very advantageous.

The churches, which are generally our first object, attracted us less at Dijon than usual: they are in general much defaced, and of all the gorgeous edifices which once adorned the town very few are left. Some name of renown is now only heard as applied to a market, or a caserne, or a manufactory; all the convents, and hospitals, and monastic institutions are gone; everything is either new or being re-erected; and scarcely a vestige of antiquity is to be discovered in the streets.

The cathedral church of St. Benigne, erected on the site of a temple of Saturn, has little to excite admiration, though it was formerly of great beauty. Two towers with a double gallery between, of delicate proportions, have a good effect at a distance, but the discoloured, defaced mass which the walls present from the street, is anything but pleasing. To look at it now one can hardly imagine that it could once boast ​of three hundred and seventy-one pillars, one hundred and twenty windows of magnificent painted glass, eight towers, three great portals, and twenty-four entrance doors.

Its treasures could not preserve it from the attacks of the wicked; in vain did it possess the head of the blessed Saint Benigne himself, which was enclosed in an enamelled shrine, encrusted with precious stones, and whose miracles should have stood the church of his adoption in some stead; statues, pictures, relics, ornaments, all were confounded in a general ruin, at that period of immortal barbarism, which ruined all the monuments in France.

Some of the doors have still remains of their former state; the elevation and the form of the interior excite attention, with a few restored tombs, and some good carving, but on the whole there is little to detain the amateur in St. Benigne.

The churches of Nôtre Dame and St. Michael are the two finest in Dijon. Nôtre Dame has a neglected look, and is surrounded by shabby houses, but its façade is even now very beautiful, covered with figures more or less mutilated; seventeen winged animals formerly adorned it, all these have been dreadfully defaced, and most of the statues are more than half-demolished, ​and the niches empty. In the interior the surrounding galleries are beautifully worked; the slender pillars are of not more than six inches in circumference, and are, some, fifteen, others thirty feet high, all without a join in the stone, which made the learned Spon conjecture that in early times there must have existed a method of melting stone, and moulding it at will.

This church can boast of a miraculous virgin, which, notwithstanding the determined animosity shown to all the statues of this description by the mob, is supposed to have been preserved, and in all its original blackness and ugliness figures on the chief altar. It appears that the face alone of this virgin is black, the rest of the body being red; her chin is pointed, and her eyes are very prominent: she is of wood, and very coarsely sculptured. Altogether, she might pass very well for an image of the Indian idol, the hideous goddess Kali of fearful memory, the patroness of the Thugs. She is said to resemble, like a sister, the most miraculous of all Virgins, the Virgin of Loretto.

The façade of the church of St. Michael is very striking, it has two towers of great beauty, decorated with five orders of architecture, and surmounted by octagon cupolas. Above the principal entrance is a very fine bas-relief of ​forty figures; a great many others were broken at the Revolution, but this, which is a chef d'œuvre of art, fortunately escaped. The interior is not remarkable, and the decorations are modern.

One of the most conspicuous objects in Dijon is the great clock tower of the Palais des Etats, which was commenced in 1367, by order of Philippe le Hardi. There is nothing either picturesque or beautiful in its construction: it is square and plain, and of gigantic proportions, and from its immense height a view is commanded of the whole country round. It is used now as an observatory. This tower, a salle des gardes, some of the buildings of the kitchens, and the remains of walls, form a part of what was the palace of the Dukes of Burgundy.

The castle of Dijon is now a barrack, and its venerable walls are seen to advantage from the ramparts only the entrance towers remain, which have a strong resemblance to those which we remarked at Peronne.

At the corners of several streets we discovered some of those exquisite little tourelles which it was customary to build at the angles of edifices; two in particular, as sharp and fresh as if just erected.

The old custom of roofing the houses with ​variegated tiles is not quite discontinued: the roof of the cathedral, for instance, has just been restored, and shines in the sun with all the brightness of enamel; the aspect is not pleasing, the patterns are gawdy, and the whole looks like floor-cloth; where the colours are faded they have a more harmonious effect, but it is not a taste much to be commended.