A Pilgrimage to Auvergne/Vol 1/Chapter 16

Theroad to Autun on quitting Dijon is extremely wild and picturesque: close to the town rises a wall of jagged rocks, similar to those in the Val de Suzon, and equally wild and majestic, bearing the forms of castles and cathedrals, their towers and spires bristling in every direction, like a petrified city: those we passed were nearly opposite the site of part of the famous Abbey of Chartreux, where a building is now being erected for a lunatic asylum.

The country continued very pretty as we advanced by ranges of mountains, some near and some distant, and constantly varying their graceful shapes. The corn was now nearly ripe, and its rich glow added much beauty to the landscape. The early morning, when we began our journey, was fine, but we had not ​reached Commeran, about half way, when violent rain came on, which continued with such unintermitting fury that we were unable to take advantage of the resting of our horses to reach the château of M. le Duc de Damas, whose park gates, close to the village inn where we stopped, invite strangers to enter and pay a visit to the fine grounds and mansion.

Our position was singular enough at this cabaret: our breakfast was served in the travellers' chamber, where our conducteur and other voyageurs of various ranks and conditions were also accommodated. Cold and damp as we were, we gladly accepted the offer of the pretty young landlady to take a seat by the kitchen fire, and there we entered into conversation with her and a guest who appeared an habitué of the house, and who seemed accustomed to broach his opinions without fear of contradiction, though it happened, as we soon discovered, that his political notions and those of the hostess were diametrically opposed.

Her manners possessed a certain refinement unusual in this part of the country, and we were not surprised when she informed us that she had been brought up in the family of the the late M. de Damas, of whom she spoke in ​terms of great respect and affection: far different was her tone from that we had long been accustomed to hear, vituperating the great, and allowing no virtue, benevolence, or consideration to any of the aristocratic race. She mildly opposed the vehement exclamations of her republican guest, by asking how she could be expected to agree that the rich and noble were all so bad, when she had instances to the contrary so near her, in the long-continued goodness of this family, so beloved in the country and such tried friends to the poor. "It seems to me," she said, simply, "that all people are good in their condition; but I cannot see of what use it would be to the poor to deprive them of kind masters, who provide them with work."

The republican turned from her with contempt, and launched forth into details of the proper mode of governing the land, which clearly proved him to be a man of wonderful penetration. The widow,—for such she seemed to be,—went on distributing to two of her children their bread and caps before they sallied forth through the rain to school, and while she appeared to listen to his harangue, only replied at its conclusion, "Eh bien! on a tant de fois changé de rois en France ​sans faire du bien—plait à Dieu qu'on nous laisse celui qui règne à présent !" This set the orator off on a new theme, and poor Louis-Philippe was not spared: he went on to show that never was France in so degraded, debased, and ruined a condition as at this moment. He then, as usual, fell foul on England, and enumerated the insults we are continually heaping on the "national honour." "It was only the other day," said he, addressing me, "that you brought out a piece at your principal theatre, which has had a great run,—the subject a caricature of us, representing the Gallic cock as a bird which would crow but not fight! This insult we owe to Louis Philippe.' I asked him if the French were so tender as to be angry at a caricature, and told him we had a habit of laughing at everything at home or abroad, in our country, but no one ever thought of being offended at a joke. I found, however, that we were likely to have a scene similar to that we were indulged with by our friend le chef at St. Quentin, and was not sorry when our driver gave us his gracious permission to proceed on our journey. This unfortunate story of the Gallic cock was repeated to me more than once by different persons afterwards, and seems to be looked upon as ​something too heinous to be forgiven. Whether such a caricature ever appeared in England I am not aware, but our neighbours believe it did, and are resolved to be revenged.

Still following a beautiful road bordered with numerous fine oaks, we arrived at the Roman town of Bibrax, soror et æmula Romæ, now called Autun, in the department of Saône et Loire. We entered through a fine ruined arch of triumph, still grand in its decay, called La Porte St. André. It is a mere shell, all the supporting stones having given way between the row of six small arches above the four large lower ones; so that it appears double, and has an air of lightness probably foreign to its original construction. It is sustained by iron cramps, and having thus remained for ages there is little fear of its falling. This fine gate is built into a wall and towers, which it joins, of a much later date it is very striking and venerable, and impresses the stranger with a pleasing interest, promising much more of classical antiquity in the interior of the town; nor is he disappointed, for in every street he may trace remains of temples and walls:—here is a head of Cupid peeping from above a cottage door, there a fluted column supporting an altar to Venus; ​in another street the very name tells of its having been built on the site of a temple of Anubis,—rue chauchien (chef, i.e. head). Apollo, Janus, Pluto, Proserpine, Mars, and all the gods had temples here, and so great its fame, that even now the inhabitants boast of their Roman descent. We had not been half an hour in the town, when we were accosted by a woman of the class of tradespeople, who informed us of many classical particulars respecting her place of abode, which she assured us was "the real Bibrax, the sister of Rome." It was called Autun for another reason, she said; for in the time of the Romans it was besieged, and so stoutly defended that "il n'y restoit qu'un seul homme, pas autre." This etymology may be as correct as that frequently allowed by more learned commentators.

Autun is on all accounts a charming place. Its antiquities may be a constant source of delight, and its natural beauties are of the highest order. Nothing, in fact, can be more enjoyable, and the summer would glide away all peace and beauty in this quiet yet cheerful place. Even we, in spite of some days of rain which confined us in the town, enjoyed every hour of our sojourn here, and felt extreme regret on quitting it. We were not surprised to ​hear of a countryman of ours, Mr. Dalton Forbes, having been arrested in passing through Autun by its beauties, and taking up his abode here for three months, living amongst the verdant hills and beneath the classical shades which surround this delicious spot.

Our first walk confirmed the favourable first impression, and every new stroll added to our pleasure.

We went through the town, which is clean and spacious, irregularly built, but with wide good streets and very fine squares, excellent dwelling-houses with large gardens, and public buildings extremely grand. Some of the old streets are precipitous and mazy, and in general they are of extreme length, particularly those in the faubourgs. We reached the second Roman gate, called La Porte d'Arroux, and were equally struck with its majestic appearance it is higher than the first, and has fewer arches, more ornamented, is surmounted by a gallery of Corinthian order, and its decorations are of great delicacy and elegance.

We crossed the flat Roman bridge over the River Arroux, but found the tide had so overflowed the banks on that side that we could not enter the meadows, in the midst of which rises the ruined temple of Janus, a conspicuous ​and remarkable object seen in all directions on this side. Following an opposite path, along a pretty road at the foot of the outer walls, we had before us, now near, now afar, as the turns permitted, these two magnificent remains of Roman grandeur;—the high arch of triumph commanding the river, and the lofty walls of the temple dominating the flat country round.

Nearly three sides of the temple are standing, having each three windows and a door, through which the light gleaming has a fine effect, as its watchful eyes scem following the course of the river at its feet. Its neighbours, dedicated to Pluto and his fair queen, have only a few stones remaining near the bridge.

On our other hand rose the glorious cathedral, and here and there a tower from amongst the buildings of the town which we left behind, continuing our way by a series of towers, and a long Roman wall for more than half a league, till we gained a high hill, from whence we had a fine view of Autun, spread out before us with all its wonders. We then prepared to re-enter the town, after a little deviation, seduced by rural views, and climbed up a rather dilapidated faubourg street leading to a gate ominously name Porte Coquin, which gives entrance to the Quartier du Château. ​We here found ourselves on a boulevard too tempting to allow us to go through the arch; this boulevard is on one of the ancient ramparts, and is planted with gigantic trees, from openings between which are charming snatches of country. Here the town wall is of great height and thickness, and the round towers of immense strength.

A range of bold mountains extends on this side, Mont Jeu (Mons Jovis), Mont Dru (des Druides), and numerous others: amongst those "blue in the distance" appeared the mountain of Morvan, which we afterwards crossed in our journey onwards, and which was pointed out by an Ossian-loving acquaintance of Autun, beneath; in the plains, the ripening corn was waving, and groves of chestnut and oak covered the neighbouring eminences. At the extremity of this promenade, much higher than all the other towers, and of a more slender form, though of very strong proportions, rises the Tour de Francois Premier; it formed part of the château, and is all that remains of it. Most commanding and stupendous is its height and appearance, looking, as it does, over a widely extended country from its elevated position. Beneath this tower, under some luxuriant trees in a most secluded nook, seated on a mossy ​trunk, we perceived a beautiful little girl, the shepherdess of a drove of miniature pigs, so pretty that they deserved such a guardian: she was playing with them, and chastising them for their gambols with a bough of blossoms, and seemed as happy and thoughtless as her charge. We asked her the name of the tower, and she raised her blushing face and large laughing eyes towards it as if it was the first time she had ever thought of its existence. The usual Burgundian answer of "ne connais pas" was all we could elicit between her patois and her modesty. We left her, dividing her attention between a bonbon and her little fat spotted friends, to continue our walk.

Here the fine embroidered lace-work of the cathedral spire comes out in beautiful relief, and at a great distance, standing on a height, with a back-ground of dark blue mountains, we observed a singular pyramidal-shaped object, of an unknown form. As we stood gazing at this, a passer-by, anxious for the honour of Autun, addressed us to let us know that it was the Pierre de Couard, which was a curious piece of antiquity, belonging to the time of the Gauls, and we had only to follow the course of the river to reach it.

Beckoned on by this remarkable object, we ​left the boulevard, and descended a steep road till we got to the stream, which we crossed over a rustic bridge, and went on between gardens for some distance, still evidently mounting, till at length we began to feel sure that we had mistaken our way.

One of the little fairy children who seemed placed on our path as guides, assured us with smiles that we were right, for she was going herself to the village of Couard. We therefore proceeded, and found that we had not followed a will-o'-the-wisp, for we presently heard above our heads the murmuring of waters, and were aware that the crystal river Arroux was running along the top of the mountain, from whence it falls at distances, turning numerous mills in its descent, till it subsides amongst the meadows of the temple of Janus, or "de Jianous," as it is called by the peasants.

We sat down to rest by this beautiful stream, and looked into its pebbly bed as it hurried rapidly along with waves so clear that the colour of every little stone could be distinctly seen at the bottom. Sometimes three, sometimes five feet broad, this mountain stream hurries on between its banks; on one side open to the path, on the other fringed with ash, chestnut, and oak, and garlanded with honey​suckle and many-tinted wild flowers. Large stones interrupt its course, and it leaps and foams, and forms miniature cascades at every two hundred yards.

We made acquaintance with an old peasant woman, who was washing linen in the river, and who seemed to speak of it as of a friend who was never weary of conferring benefits. Her costume, a petticoat of red and yellow and black stripes, a jacket of dark cloth, snow-white cap and scarlet handkerchief, made her just the required figure to animate the scene. "Ah! c'est une rivière charmante—ah! c'est belle et bonne et douce, et jamais tarie, l'Arroux."

She left off her occupation to converse with us, and make herself mistress of our history and projects, and seemed much amused at our wish to see the heap of stones towards which we were journeying, not considering it worthy of so much attention.

Autun, from this position on the opposite hill, has a very fine effect; its cathedral spire, the high tower of François Prémier, its numerous towers and handsome modern buildings and gardens, its beautiful meadows, arches, and river,—all appear to great advantage. ​The village of Couard, through which we passed on our pilgrimage, is one of the dirtiest we had ever yet seen. The people here are famous for their breed of pigs, and appear to pay these animals all due honour, for they share their cabins and live in common with the peasants. The heap of rugged stones which has excited so much interest amongst the learned, stands in a filthy farm-yard, surrounded by every description of rubbish. An opening which has been made near the base, is occupied by the farmer's potatoes; and whenever a new cottage was to be built, some of the stones were accustomed to be taken to serve in its construction this, however, is now forbidden, and some pains have even been taken to keep the remaining bricks and stones from falling.

Francis I. visited this mysterious pile, and sent for two learned men to determine its character, who pronounced it to be a funereal monument, which is likely to have been the case from the numerous urns which have been dug up in the neighbourhood from time to time. By what chief of the Gauls erected, however, does not appear, and the Pierre de Couard still remains as before, "a marvel and a secret."

We returned from our long ramble by a dif​ferent route, which very soon brought us to another gate, and we reached our hotel well satisfied with the beauties of the environs.

The cathedral is one of the most majestic erections of the eleventh century: it stands on the site of a pagan temple, and from the style of its pillars and their capitals there is little doubt that much of the building remains as originally built. The arch of entrance is gigantic, both as to height and width, springing from the ground, and enclosing a magnificent flight of steps, which lead to a portal; above is an entablature a good deal defaced, of strange Pagan appearance. The three pillars on each side of the portal are quite perfect, and of workmanship so exquisite that they astonish and delight the eye with their variety and grace. By this portal the temple is entered, and you find yourself in an immense building, surrounded by square fluted pillars of large size: the lofty capitals of these pillars represent Pagan sacrifices: some of the figures appear attendants on Bacchus, crowned with grapes, leading oxen decorated with garlands to an altar, where stands a priest. By two rows of steps from the aisles the circular choir is reached, where once probably stood the statue of the goddess or the god, who here received the homage of the Eduins and ​the Romans. Everything about this majestic temple speaks of early mysteries, and impresses the mind with mysterious awe.

In the square before the cathedral is a graceful little fountain of the Ionic order, extremely ornamental and beautiful. It is surmounted by a pelican with extended wings, and bears the date of 1543. It may well have been the work of Jean Goujon, to whom it is attributed.

The museum of the town is in its infancy; the Hôtel de Ville, of which it forms part, is a very stately building, in a fine square, called the Champ de Mars, where a temple to that god once stood, planted with trees, under which is a raised terrace, forming a pleasant promenade. We were told that, in a house without the town, a gentleman of taste had collected a great number of curious relics of antiquity, which we could probably obtain permission to see.

We set out, therefore, to the house of M. Jovet, which we were some time seeking for. As we walked along an avenue of luxuriant trees, by the side of part of the old walls and towers, in a direction we had not yet tried, we saw a gentleman-like looking man slowly preceding us, with a book in his hand; this however he evidently was less occupied in reading ​than in attending to our questions of some peasants relative to the mansion before us. He accosted us, and relieved our anxiety on hearing that M. Jovet was absent, by announcing himself as his brother, and offering to show us all the treasures we sought.

We were much gratified by our visit to M. Jovet's cabinet, which contains an inexhaustible store of curiosities, both antique and of the middle ages. Who shall count the pictures, enamels, coins, engravings, arms, vases, that adorn his shelves, and what description can do justice to his perseverance in restoring a whole floor of tesselated pavement, which he found on his ground, and over which he built a saloon? From careful observation he has succeeded in tracing the whole pattern of this splendid mosaic, and having found heaps of the material of which it is composed, he is, with incredible labour, replacing the minute pieces, and bringing out the whole tableau, employing to assist him a workman whose skill is little inferior to his own. The centre represents a mounted figure, which he conceives to be Bellerophon. The pattern round is of great beauty, and the medallions very elegant: in some are a group of swans, in others an eagle, a griffin, and other animals. ​So much has already been done, that there is great hope that the whole may finally be completed, when it will be a superb work. M. Jovet is writing a history of Autun, a great desideratum; but his advanced age and infirmities threaten to put a stop to his studies, and deprive the world of so desirable an acquisition.

Some time since the poet, Thomas Campbell, was at Autun, and was much interested in the communications made him by M. Jovet, and delighted with the treasures he beheld: he even expressed, I understood, so great an anxiety to see the valuable history completed, that he generously offered to have the work printed at his own expense in England, if the author would consent to such an arrangement.

Amongst the numerous débris of ancient churches, Roman columns, capitals, vases, arms, articles of common use, rings, medals, chains, mirrors, all dug up in the neighbourhood,—some of the most curious objects which the care of M. Jovet has preserved from entire annihilation are different fragments of the once splendid tomb of Queen Brunehaut, the foundress of the abbeys of Saint Martin, of Saint Andoche, and Saint Jean le Grand, at Autun. ​There were two inscriptions on the black marble of her tomb; one is by Jean Rollin, bishop of Autun in 1483.

Amongst the pictures is one, a portrait of himself, by David, when quite young, before he had adopted the plan "de broyer du rouge." It is painted with great simplicity and truth, and much better than many of his latter works.

There are some very fine cabinets of ebony and oak in this collection, which might excite the envy of M. de Sommerard himself, if his magnificent and unique museum at the Hôtel de Cluny were not already full to overflowing. A dagger, with a Toledo blade, inscribed in gold letters, "Mon sire, ma foi, ma patience," is a very fine specimen of the kind, and several swords of magnificent workmanship add to the treasures.

We lingered in this interesting place for a long time, never weary of examining, and delighted to listen to the enthusiastic observations and explanations of our polite guide, whose sorrow knew no bounds that his brother should ​be absent. He was, it appeared, a poet, and showed us some very affecting and pleasing verses written by himself, and admirably rendered into English by his friend,—to whom he seemed much attached,—Mr. Dalton Forbes.

He was afterwards our conductor to the site of the celebrated amphitheatre, and naumachie, both of which must have been of immense extent. It was in the arena of the former that Maricus, who had risen against Vitellius, was exposed to wild beasts in the presence of the Emperor, and a large assemblage of people.

The ancient splendour of this now secluded and tranquil town is manifested in the numerous vestiges to be discovered everywhere; scarcely a foot of ground can be dug without the spade turning up some treasure; as no care whatever was taken to preserve them, much has entirely disappeared, but the present government has directed its attention to the subject, and a stop has been put to the wanton destruction which was continually going on.

Bibrax was the birth-place of the rhetorician Eumenes, and possessed one of the most celebrated schools of Gaul. Its seminaries are still famous, and both the large and small are fine buildings; the former, of enormous size, was built ​in the time of Louis XIV., under the direction of the Abbé Roquette, then bishop of Autun. The gardens were designed by Lenôtre, and the whole occupied the site of a Roman construction, some of the marble of which was found in digging its foundations.