A Pilgrimage to Auvergne/Vol 1/Chapter 7

Having seen all that interested us in Soissons, we continued our journey to Reims, which had been to us a great object of attraction, and after a dusty drive of fourteen leagues, were rejoiced to enter the ancient and renowned city where the kings of France received their crowns from the earliest period of Christianity.

Almost immediately on our arrival we hurried to the famous cathedral, having chosen an hotel as near as possible to it, intending, as we did, to make its aisles our principal domicile during our stay. We saw enough at the first glance to convince us that there was an endless store of interest in the magnificent towers covered with figures to the very top, the forest of spires elaborately ornamented, the fretted doors and glowing windows. Happily an immense number of statues still fill their original niches, though ​thousands were no doubt destroyed; the riches, in this particular, of Reims cannot, however, be exhausted, as it would have taken years of revolution to sweep away all. The principal portal is not supported by pillars — all are niches, filled with figures in rows and lines— small and great, their canopies forming a kind of zigzag capital, as it were, to each, — to the topmost pinnacle ranges on ranges of figures — bishops, priests, saints, and angels — till the pyramid of the great front is finished by a single statue.

The gorgeous appearance this creates, and the extraordinary variety produced, cannot be expressed. All round the building, in every direction the same magnificent aspect is presented — all is solemn, grand, and rich; all is executed in the highest style of ornamental art; all is graceful, delicate, finished, and elaborate, yet the whole is full of majesty and boldness. The mind is filled with wonder at the perseverance which could devote so much time to adorn every nook and corner to such advantage; the eye is dazzled in tracing the exquisite patterns of the open galleries, the buttresses, the finials and crockets, the canopies and couvres. Part of the walls are encrusted with groups of the most grotesque description; many of the figures have been destroyed, but countless are those which ​remain. At one door are colossal statues of St. Nicaise, Sainte Eutrope his sister, with angels; at another are St. Remi, angels, and Clovis; above are demons and sinners mocking the martyrdom of St. Nicaise and the miracles of St. Remi. A series of small figures represent the resurrection; others, souls ferried over a stream by demons or angels — souls led in chains by devils ad infinitum. It is said that a century was passed in adorning this splendid and elabotate building, and it would take almost as long to trace all the groups which cover it.

The interior is amazingly vast and grand, immensely long, of enormous width, the pillars and arches stupendous, the painted glass magnificent, and the form of the windows exquisite; their numbers extraordinary and their colours gorgeous. A lantern of rich glass extends along the whole of the aisles and the choir — at the back of the choir is an outer series still finer, and the whole expanse is one rainbow of the most glorious hues. The great rose, however, eclipses all the rest by its excelling radiance; molten rubies, emeralds, and sapphires seem glowing through the rich stone work, and when the setting sun shines full upon that window it is impossible to conceive anything so lustrous and so splendid. Beneath this beautiful rose is a ​line of small pointed arches, filled with painted glass of equal gorgeousness, representing a row of crowned kings in regal robes of crimson purple and gold; and all below, from that height to the very floor, the wall is covered with niches, filled with delicately wrought figures, all perfect and all of the most exquisite symmetry. The pointed door, which rises in the midst of this incrustation, is adorned in the same way, and surmounted by a smaller rose window, which does not yield in brilliancy to the large upper one, and altogether the magnificence of this part of the cathedral is unrivalled.

A singularly bad taste induced the authorities at the time of the coronation of Charles X. to daub the bases and capitals of the majestic pillars with yellow ochre, — intended to represent gold, — and to paint the fine roof blue with yellow stars!

If anything could destroy the grandeur of the coup d'œil on entering, this piece of barbarism would; but fortunately there are so many beauties to observe, and the eye is so enchanted by the colours of the gorgeous windows, that at first it passes unobserved. It is not improbable that in early times painting and gilding might have been adopted, as they are still to be traced in some antique chapels and on statues; but the rich ultramarine and the pure gold then employed made ​quite another effect, and answered to the gorgeous adornments of the rest of the sacred edifices.

We were struck with a peculiarity which is rarely observed in other churches, namely, three rows of stone steps for seats, against the wall, entirely surrounding the interior: spaces are also left at the bases of the pillars to serve for the same purpose: it must have had an imposing effect when the whole of these were occupied by splendidly dressed persons, witnesses of the ceremony of the sacre: above these seats are marks of holes where, no doubt, supports were placed for tapestry on great occasions.

The only tomb remaining is one of Roman construction, quite perfect and a great treasure. It is of white marble, and is called the tomb of Jovinus, the Roman consul: the inscription on it is,

It stood formerly in the church of St. Nicaise, now destroyed. It represents a lion hunt, symbolical of a victory, gained by Jovinus over the Germans. All the imperial family are said to be represented. Valentinian I. on horseback, pierces the lion. Beside him is Valerius Severus, accompanied by young Gratian clothed in a consul’s ​mantle which had been conferred on him at Amiens. Valentius appears on foot farther off, a slave in a Phrygian cap holds his horse. The general on horseback near Valentinian is Jovinus.

This is an explanation given by the learned, but it is by no means satisfactory; a child and female figures, both very conspicuous, being entirely unaccounted for. The sculpture is very fine, and the grouping admirable, the marble of fine texture and colour, and the whole monument a precious specimen of art.

The streets of Reims are all new and the houses also; the promenades, the gates, the buildings, all are new, and look as if just finished; the pavement is new, but the worst we had met with since our feet were tortured at St. Omer. All our hopes of antique houses and streets seemed to be at once destroyed, all our ideas of one of the oldest towns in France put to flight, and it was only by dint of perseverance that we discovered that there really existed some few specimens of antiquity in the midst of so much modern improvement. Some names of streets told tales of times gone by, and here and there a suspicious-looking corner held out hopes of old world discoveries.

We made our way from one end of the tow to the other, through immensely wide and tole​rably clean streets, to the remains of the once powerful and stupendous church of St. Remi, very little of which still exists, and what there is now, rising from a heap of ruins and undergoing repair. Roman arches and capitals tell of the antiquity of the building, and their height and size denote its former importance; the Hôtel Dieu adjoms it, and is a vast and handsome fabric. The tomb of St. Remi is a restoration or rather imitation of the ancient one.

Scarcely a reminiscence exists of Joan of Arc: in the square opposite the cathedral is an inn called La Maison Rouge, where may be read this inscription.

“L’an 1429, au sacre de Charles VII. dans cette hǒtelleria, nommnée alors l’Ane rayé, le père et la mère de Jeanne d'Arc ont été logés et défrayés par le conseil de ville.”

In the Rue de Tambour the façade is still seen of a house which once formed part of the palace of the Counts of Champagne; it is much ornamented with large carved figures, playing on various instruments of music, harp, violin, bagpipe, and tabour, and the mouldings are fine.

In the place of the Hôtel de Ville which is a handsome square is l'Hôtel de Joyeuse, or rather a house on its site, for scarcely anything of the original remains. ​Inscribed on an old house in the Rue de Cères, called Le Long-Vétû, is this sentence:—

“Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Ministre d’Etat sous Louis XIV. est né dans cette maison le 29 Août 1619.”

Many of the long wide streets are built on arcades of wood which have replaced those of stone which were formerly used, and the ranges of shops beneath have a peculiar appearance una like any other town we had seen. The Rue de la Couture is one of the most remarkable, from its extreme width and length; it leads to the grand promenades, which are very extensive and agreeable, well laid out, open, and fine.

The ancient fossés of the town are planted with avenues of trees, and a very pretty range of lower walks is thus formed beneath the outer range. Built into a part of the walls, but still conspicuous from the promenade, is a high triumphal arch of Roman construction, called La Porte de Mars: erected by the Rémois, in honour of Cæsar and Augustus, when Agrippa, governor in Gaul, made great military roads which passed by this town. This arch served as a gate till 1544, when a new one being made, it was built into the ramparts. Several times since it has disappeared under dilapidations, but in 1812 it was rescued ​once more, and can now be clearly seen, but merely as forming a surface of the wall.

It presents two arches of equal height, flanking a central one of larger size, and higher: eight Corinthian coloumns adorn it. It was once covered with sculptured ornaments, now greatly defaced. One arch represented on its roof Romulus and Remus, and the she-wolf. On the right and left were seen Faustulus and Acca Laurentia, with trophies of arms and wreaths. The centre arch exhibits the twelve months of the year, similarly accompanied, and the third has Leda and her swan, with Cupid deseending. It must have been a fine work of art in the days of its prosperity.

Some of the streets of Reims retain their singular names, such as La Truie qui file; les Quatre Chats Grignans; de la Grue, du Singe, du Corbeau; Rue des Morts, des Gueux, &c.; and the ancient designations of Roman times are not even yet discarded: such are Rue de la Porte, Dieu-Lumière, de la Porte de Cérès. In most of these exist a few houses on which some bas-reliefs may be discovered which have served for signs, but the only really beautiful and well-preserved house is one in the Marché aux Blés, of dark oak exquisitely carved on the whole facade: it is now a jeweller’s shop, and is evidently kept up with ​great care: nothing can be more elegant than the delicate woodwork, and, doubtless, this house must formerly have been of some consequence, but all tradition of it has passed away, like most of those connected with Reims, which ought to furnish so many.

The old name of Barbâtre, part inhabited by the barbarians, is still retained, but the Roman arch which divided it from the more refined quarter, and which was called the gate of Bacchus, and afterwards Porte Bazée, has disappeared. The Porte de Cérès is also gone, the name of which was changed to Carcer, in consequence of its becoming a prison. Legends say, that Ogier, the Dane, was confined here by Archbishop Turpin. The Porte de Vénus exists no longer, but there is still a street which bears the name of the Goddess.

On the whole, Reims, though it disappoints the antiquary, is a fine town, spacious, healthy, and clean. The people are obliging and industrious, and very considerable commerce is carried on there, particularly of merinos and all sort of woollen stuffs, besides an extensive trade in wines and brandies. The merchants have handsome country-houses in the town, enclosed in high walls, but generally possess others a little way in the country, where they seem to enjoy themselves ​extremely. We heard, however, a good deal of grumbling at the little business that was doing, and discontent seemed to prevail: it appeared that the workmen were dissatisfied with their wages, and the merchants could not afford to employ so many as formerly.

There is but little appearance of devotion at Reims: we seldom saw any one in the cathedral but old women or children; and the sacristan, who showed us all that he could of the decayed glories of his church, complained that times were sadly changed since Cardinal Latil held sway here, and Charles X. and he planned the restoration of all its dignity. The dilapidated state of the fine archbishopric proved the truth of this; for nothing can be more dismal than its neglected walls, its pictures ruined by damp, its ormaments tarnished, and its gardens overgrown with weeds. The woman who takes care of the state chambers, now never required, echoed the regrets of the sacristan, and expressed a fear that evil times were coming, for all respect for the church was passed, all obedience laughed at, and the lower orders confessed no superiors anywhere, insolence and turbulence reigned supreme, and all respectability was departed from the youth of France. We grieved to hear this opinion from quiet well-intentioned people everywhere, and ​more so to find it too well founded and clearly apparent as we advanced further into the country, where, instead of simplicity, we observed a saucy rudeness, instead of the urbanity supposed to be a national characteristic, a familiarity approaching to brutality, an unconcealed envy of all ranks and riches, a contempt for authority, and above all, a hatred of the English, totally undisguised.

Although religion does not seem to occupy the attention of the manufacturers of Reims, we were struck with the appearance of the booksellers’ shops, where every second volume is a prayer-book. On entering one, we asked if they had any new publications, and the master hastened to bring one, which he assured us was quite new: we found it a pictorial edition of the Bible, in parts; and on declining it as a work of entertainment, he with great alacrity fetched another, which he said was also much in vogue: this we found was the Philosophie of M. de Lammenais; and our zealous friend seemed to think us hard to please, when we rejected this too. He said no more, but laid befere us several well-bound books of l'Imitation and other devotional works. In fact, his whole shop seemed divided between philosophy and religion.

Reims, although it preserves no records or relics of Jeanne d’Are, is in itself a sufficient ​monument of her; and it is impossible here not to have the recollection of her and the monarch whom she restored, fresh in the mind. One imagines the entrance of Charles and his few faithful adherents, conducted by the inspired heroine to the cathedral, where he received his crown. It was Jeanne who presented him with the keys of the town, and who recited as she did so the following verses:—

As soon as the king was crowned, she threw herself on her knees before him, the standard in her hand, and addressed to him these words, weeping as she spoke: “Great King, God has permitted that you should be crowned at Reims, in order that the whole earth should see that you are the veritable king, and he to whom this kingdom does of right belong. ​There exists an engraving^[1] of a piece of tapestry which formerly adorned the church of Reims, representing the entrance of the king into the town in 1429. The following lines are there preserved:

The king appears accompanied by the Dukes of Bourbon and Alençon, by his first valet-de-chambre bearing his cap, by his archers and gardes-du-corps, who all have on their cottes-d'armes the name of “Charles,” with no other devise. Jeanne, bearing the standard of France, opens the march, and conducts the monarch, preceded by trumpets and guards, who bear the arquebuse instead of the bow. The Duke de Lorraine and the Cardinal Duke de Bar, who had just before left the Burgundian and English parties, appear, having brought their troops to his assistance. The father and mother of Jeanne,^[2] ​with the king’s baggage, follow a different route to the cortège. This engraving is very curious, particularly for costume.

In 1484, on a similar occasion, at one of the gates of the town, Charles VIII. was met by a beautiful young girl, with golden hair descending to her waist, wearing a hat of cloth-of-silver adorned with gold and flowers. She had for her robe a vestment of silk, the body and sleeves of which were of a superb azure blue. She descended from the height of the gate by a machine, and saluted and welcomed the king, presenting the keys, and reciting the same verses in his honour which La Pucelle had spoken.

The same ceremonial was observed on the entrance of Henry II. to be crowned in 1547. A theatre was erected before the gate, in which an ingenious contrivance presented a sun, which appeared to expand like a flower, and in the centre of a crimson heart within disclosed a young girl of nine or ten years of age, richly attired, who, advancing, offered the keys of the town to ​the monarch, after which she reentered her heart, and was concealed by the rays.

It appears that on these occasions the kings of France and all their retinue were received at St. Remi, which they made their abode during their stay.

The walks beyond the town of Reims are not interesting, though at the time we were there the vines were in bloom, and extensive fields of scarlet poppies blazed in the sun, and every thing looked animated and cheerful: still there is not inequality enough in the ground to afford picturesque sites, and the heat in summer prevents the broad plain from being agreeable to walkers. The houses of the rich merchants of Reims are very fine. When the open gates permit a view, the stranger is much struck with their appearance, which, though not very elegant, displays great luxury of ornament. Porticoes of lilac and pink and blue painted wood are adorned with stripes of gold, with what seem gold fringes at the edges, like a tent; richly gilt pillars, finely carved, support this gorgeous entrance to marble steps; gilt railings enclose it; and the same style extends to the gardens, which are generally filled with choice flowers, and have enamelled and gilt temples in the midst of their fragrant alleys. As high brick walls conceal these treasures from the ​common eye, the streets have a somewhat triste aspect; but the highly ornamented roofs and windows of these splendid edifices peering over indicate that the proprietor is a man of riches, if not of taste.

We quitted Reims for Epernay on a fitful day in June. The town below us shone out brilliantly in the gleams of the sun as we mounted the high hills covered with sweet-smelling vines, looking flourishing and full of promise. Large orchards border the route, and the whole country has a fertile and luxuriant aspect, improving in beauty the farther we left Reims behind: charming views open everywhere, and the beautiful wood of Montchenot, which we traversed for two leagues, brought us to Epernay, which is situated at the entrance of a smiling valley near the banks of the Marne, over which river there is a fine bridge.

We trusted to our driver to recommend us an hotel, as that at which we stopped was quite full, and were obliged to follow him through a great many uninviting streets before we arrived at his friend’s, which, though very humble, appeared clean, and there we perforce remained, as he assured us it was the best in the town. Nothing could equal the civility of the rustics who attended us; but it was evident that ​the friendship of their zealous supporter had sacrificed us. We rose at daybreak and began to explore, when we discovered that we had been carried to the very outskirts of the town, while, in the principal street, there was a very grand and spacious inn, whose sign of De la France told of the riches within. We lost no time however in vain regrets, but finding that Epernay had no beauties to offer beyond its neighbourhood, made up our minds to stay no longer than to see the church and the caves, which are famous as containing the celebrated Champagne wine which supplies all Europe, and extend their labyrinths to an ineredible distance in the chalk hills. Three millions of bottles are always kept there, which remain three years before they are sent out, and are replaccd immediately. It would take a whole day to walk to the end of these wonderful cellars, the boast of the whole country; but we thought it far more interesting to walk into the very midst of the beautiful vines themselves, which at that hour of the morning sent forth a perfume like orange flowers, scenting the air for miles round. We reached the highest hill above the town, and were rewarded for our toil by the most delightful prospects imaginable:— the fine valley, filled with picturesque looking buildings running partly ​up the opposite hill, a circle of downs and woods and hills, covered with soft green vines rising above it, fields enamelled with flowers of every colour, striped with rich poppies and spotted with patches of the golden buttercup, interspersed with lilac and bright blue corn-flowers and shining with white daisies, the wheat waving its feathery blossoms in the fragrant air, and over all a canopy of stormy clouds of rich dark colours striving with the sun, whose rays every now and then pierced the gloom and touched the hills, valleys, and plains with glowing light.

We met several peasants and some bourgeoises from neighbouring villages; the latter seated in the most primitive manner on their led horses, with their wide aprons falling in drapery over their figures—all were hastening on to avoid the coming rain, and we found it necessary to follow their example. We accordingly descended into the town, and took refuge in the church, where we found a great deal to interest us, although but little of the antique building now remains. Some pillars at the entrance are of the time of the Renaissance, and show that the whole church must have been very elegant. The old windows remain, nearly entire, though it seems that a great many others were destroyed. There are sixteen, all curious and brilliant, remarkable and ​valuable for their minute details of costume, and the quaint treatment of some of their subjects.

Thibault I., Count of Champagne, was buried here in 1090, as a slab in the wall indicates.

“Cy gist inhumé, 1090, Comte Thibault I., fils de Eudes II., Comte de Champagne, Fondateur de ceste Eglise en l'an 1082, et décédé 1037.” Another stone sets forth that it was placed in memory of “Pierre Strozzi, Maréchal de France, Seigneur d’Epernay, tué au siège de Thionville, 20 Juin, 1558, et inhumé en cette église.” His arms are engraved beneath this inscription.

Epernay and its church suffered fearfully during the contentions of the League, and what was then spared more recent violence has destroyed. The vines, however, flourish through all troubles, and are not only splendid in quality but beautiful to the eye. Indeed the whole drive from Epernay to Château Thierry, which was our next destination, is exquisite, constantly varied and picturesque, and glowing with abundance: corn, vines, and fruit heaping the earth with riches; gardens of roses and orchards of crimson cherries along the road, with every here and there pretty villas belonging to the wine-merchants peeping from their shrubberies, and prospects of extreme beauty opening from the summit of the hills, with the bright Marne winding at their feet. ​The celebrated coteau of Aï, which produces the well-known sparkling Champagne, was pointed out to us at a little distance, and every hill we passed had its peculiar claim to attention; all in this neighbourhood yielding wine of superior kind.

Although this part of Champagne is so pleasing, the largest portion of the ci-devant province is arid and sterile, and deserves perhaps a harsh name, though that given it by the natives is somewhat coarse, La Champagne pouilleuse. Nothing can be more dreary than its wide uninterrupted plains, without a tree, subject to fogs, and exposed to every wind. The banks, however, of the Marne present many scenes as beautiful as those we now delighted in, and which continued as we re-entered the department of Aisne, and arrived at Château Thierry.