A Pilgrimage to Auvergne/Vol 1/Chapter 17
CHAPTER XVII.
Amongst the other agrémens of Autun its cheapness should not be omitted; our very reasonable bill surprised us extremely, from the rareness of such an occurrence, for our hotel was remarkably good, and our accommodation excellent. A little French finesse was, however, practised, to induce us to engage a carriage to Bourges; we found that we could procure the coupé of the diligence, and therefore set out with a French gentleman for our companion, who was returning from Dijon to his residence at Tours. He had with him a child of about four years old, whom he called Ada, who he told us always went with him on his journeys, and of whom he took the greatest care. We naturally supposed him to be a widower, but soon found that he had a wife and large family at home, but this little girl being his favourite, he had constituted her his camarade on all occasions, being disappointed in not having a son. She was so accustomed to travelling that she never suffered from fatigue, and went through all the inconveniences to which she was exposed, like a heroine.
This system of bringing up girls like boys is very prevalent in France; whether it conduces to the improvement of female manners is a question, but it may account for several curious mannish customs which now obtain, amongst others the habit of smoking cigarettes, which is quite la grande mode of late with certain French ladies.
Our route across the high mountains of Morvan was very picturesque; with its large antique oaks, venerable hawthorns, and immense aged chestnuts, covered at this time with star-like yellow blossoms; and we were much struck with the approach to Château Chinon, the Castrum Caninum of the Romans, who erected on the most elevated point of that part of the country a strong castle and a temple.
We climbed by a very steep ascent from the town, which is built en amphithéâtre at a great height, to the peak where the ruins of the antique castle are still to be traced. They cover a very large space, but are level with the earth, and only a few caves and sunken walls are visible, amongst kitchen gardens belonging to the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, who find the fountain, which still issues from the rock, of great service. Nothing can be conceived more commanding than the position of this castle must have made it; a panorama of immense magnitude is spread out beneath, and its boldness and grandeur are extreme,—a whole region of lofty mountains surrounds this, which appears like the monarch of all, and master indeed of the whole country must a lord of such a domain have been.
Its fortifications, double fosses, towers, and battlements, which stood so many sieges, have all disappeared; but the time was when an English army, in spite of all its defences, took possession of Château Chinon, and sacked its walls in 1467.
It must have been an important place to obtain at that period, when the whole country was contended for by armed companies, each eager for pillage and deterred by no obstacles. As we looked round from the height and surveyed the extensive champagne and the chains of mountains, once every one crowned with a fortified castle, the narrative of the Gascon squire, le Bastot de Mauléon, to which Froissart lent an attentive ear when they met at Orthès "at the sign of the moon," occurred vividly to my recollection.
"The companies marched into Burgundy, where they had captains of all nations, Germans, Scots, and people from every country. I was there also as a captain. Our numbers in Burgundy above the river Loire were upwards of twelve thousand, including all sorts. We took by a night attack La Charité, which we held for a year and a half: everything was ours from La Charité to Puy in Auvergne, and below Loire as far as Orleans, with the command of the whole river Allier. We had, in the environs of Nevers, twenty-six strong places as well towns as castles, and no knight, squire, or strong man dared to quit his home unless he had compounded with us."
Louis XI. defied, beneath the walls of Château Chinon, the powerful army of the Duke of Burgundy; and many were the "battles, sieges, fortunes" which this stronghold must have known before it became a heap of ruins, amongst the stones of which the inhabitants of the now insignificant little town plant their cabbages!
Whilst we were moralizing on the spot, the bright sky became in an instant overcast, a violent blast swept round the mountain, thick mists gathered, and a storm of lightning and rain suddenly burst above us, shelterless as we were on the very summit. We crouched down beneath some ruined walls till the first fury of the gust was passed, then made our way towards a few scattered huts near, where we asked refuge, and were admitted by a little girl, who seemed the eldest of a cottage full of children, who were hovering over a a fire where their expected dinner was cooking, and close to which their poultry hopped about quite sans gêne.
Our usual present of bonbons soon made us friends with the silent and scared little group, when our company was joined by a buxom dame, whom we had observed in her garden, on the height, busy gathering vegetables. She invited us to return to the ruins when the storm was passed, so anxious was she to show us all the secrets of the place herself; and as the sun shortly afterwards shone out with great brilliancy, we accepted her offer, leaving our little friends and la veuve, their mother, who just then returned from work surprised and grateful for a small donation,—evidently an unaccustomed event in their hovel, which, though very poor, was remarkably neat.
Our new acquaintance was exceedingly communicative and loquacious, and having discovered in me a great resemblance to a favourite mistress, with whom she had lived till wedlock united her to an honest butcher of Château Chinon, was unwearied in her endeavours to amuse us. We could not refuse her pressing invitation to enter her shop as we returned, in order that she might exhibit to us the wonders of beauty it contained in the shape of joints of mutton and veal. Nothing certainly could look cleaner or more unlike a French butcher's than her dwelling; and when yielding to her pressing instances we took a seat in her parlour, we were quite pleased at the snowy treasures she displayed of plaited collars and delicately got-up linen. Zealous to delight, she next proceeded to open sundry boxes, from which she took bijoux of another sort, which seemed to be held by her in great esteem: these were her husband's military accoutrements, epaulette, gorget, sash, etc., in which she assured us he looked remarkably well, and she then described his prowess in the use of the weapons, which were hung up in triumph round the pretty, clean apartment. She dismissed us with the assurance that some of her famous mutton, which had no parallel in Nièvre, would grace our board at the hotel where we were staying,—a promise which a remarkably indifferent dinner did not fulfil.
We continued our route, descending the gigantic mountain, which we were long before we lost sight of, and arrived in due time at Nevers, the aspect of which town was so unpromising that we could not resolve to do more than stay sufficiently long to see the cathedral, which, although it possesses a few interesting features, as for instance the southern portal and some of the painted windows, is so inferior to the numerous fine ones we had seen that it did not detain us long: it has, however, a beautiful ornamented tower. There is a curious old gate of entrance to the town, called La Porte des Croux, rebuilt in 1393, which looks venerable, but is sadly black and dirty, as are all the streets and every bit of antiquity to be found.
On the route to Bourges is an arch of triumph erected in 1746 in honour of the victory of Fontenai. The following lines are inscribed on it and are by Voltaire, though their merit would hardly lead one to suppose so:—
Au Père de l'Etat, au maître de nos cœurs.
Reconnaissez Nevers et jugez de la France.
These verses have the defect of telling nothing, naming no persons or circumstances, and are as unintelligible, without an explanation, as they are weak. It is to be hoped no one will judge of France by Nevers as it is at present, for nothing can be less attractive.
The bridge over the Loire, of twenty arches, is heavy: the quays are wide but possess no beauty. The towers of the old castle of the princes of Cleves are singular; but the strange irregular Place Ducale, of which it forms one side, is ugly enough, and had originally but a bad reputation on account of its inhabitants: it now looks ruined, old, and dirty.
An anecdote related respecting the public promenade of the château is characteristic. Before 1767 the walk was only a long square, and the upper part beyond was planted with vines. The Duke de Nevers was one day walking with the beautiful Madame de Prunevaux, whom he admired greatly the lady observed to him how much these vines added to the beauty of the scene, and what an advantage it would be if the ground belonged to the promenade. The gallant duke immediately issued orders that this part should be annexed to it and formed into a jardin anglais, which still exists, and is a great ornament and convenience to the inhabitants.
At Nevers is still shown, in the Rue de la Parcheminerie, the house where lived the famous Adam Billaut, known as Mâitre Adam, called the Carpenter of Nevers, and the Virgil of the plane.
Adam Billaut was born at St. Benin des Bois, of a family who were mere labourers. A singular feeling for poetry, natural taste, and great facility of versification caused him to be regarded at his time as a poetical phenomenon. The princesses, Anne and Marie de Gonzagues, honoured him with their intimacy, and loaded him with kindness. The Duke of Orleans, brother of Louis XIII., the Cardinal de Richelieu, the Duke de Guise, and many other great personages, gave him pensions; but it appears that their payment was not very exact, for in many of his pieces he complains of suffering from this negligence. All the verse writers of the day composed lines in his praise. The Duke de St. Aignan addressed the following to him:—
Vous n'aurez rien de moi, sinon
Que pour les vers et pour le nom
Vous êtes le premier des hommes.