CHAPTER III

Autun; Temple of Janus

M. de Fontenay dates the building, conjecturally, from the founding of Autun. Concerning its popular name, "Temple of Janus," he has some very interesting information to give.

It appears that, until the 17th century, the tower was known as the "Tour de la Gênetoie," a term which a local savant took to be a corruption of Janitect, "à Jani tecto." This legend was accepted by the historians for about the next two centuries, until, in 1843, another Burgundian writer reluctantly announced the truth,—that Gênetoie did not mean "Temple of Janus," but simply, "Champ des balkins" or "genets," the broom known to all Englishmen as the device of our Plantagenet kings. So much for the Temple of Janus. Whatever may have been its purpose, no one who has visited Rome, looking up at the huge, shattered walls, gilded by the sunset, standing out against the purple shadows of the hills far away across the plain, can fail to recall memories of the Roman Campagna.

The Roman city of Augustodunum possessed four gates, at the north-west, north-east, south-west, and south-east corners of the town, leading to the roads for Boulogne, Besançon, Bourbon L'Archambaud, and Lyons respectively. The first and last of these was known also as the "Voie d'Agrippa." The gates, taking them in the same order, are known as the Porte d'Arroux, the Porte St. André, the Porte St. Andoche, and the Porte de Rome. The first two of these are still standing; the others have disappeared.

The Porte d'Arroux is distant only a few minutes walk from the Temple of Janus, near the river, at the foot of the Faubourg d'Arroux. Incomplete though it is, the grace and dignity of the fallen monument yet contrast strongly with the squalor of its setting. It is backed, on either side, by a medley of disreputable villas, and dilapidated, half-timbered cottages, whose squalor is not without charm. To-day hordes of ragged children play beneath the arches that once echoed to the roll of chariot wheels, and to the tramp of lictors' feet.

Autun; Porte d'Arroux

The Porte d'Arroux has four openings for traffic,—two large central arches, by which chariots could pass in and out, and two smaller gates, at the sides, for foot passengers. Each of the central arches is grooved for a portcullis, which some authorities, including M. Viollet le Duc, think were not added till the middle ages,[27]a supposition that M. de Fontenay seems effectually to disprove by pointing out that, since the Roman rampart at that period was broken down in many places, any additional defences to the gates would have been a useless precaution.

Autun, in mediæval times, comprised what were, in effect, two distinct towns, both built within the Roman enceinte. These were the Castrum, the centre of which was the Cathedral of St. Lazare, and the Marchaux—still known by the same name,—in the lower part of the town, north of the Place des Champs de Mars. Each of these towns was then sheltered within its own walls and towers, of which portions are still in existence.

The upper part of the gate consisted of a pierced gallery or arcade, of ten bays,—seven of them still intact,—forming a Chemin de Ronde, on a level with that running along the crest of the Roman wall. This gallery, serving the double purpose of ornament and defence, could be closed at any time by wooden shutters.[28]The gate was flanked on either side by two rectangular towers (corps de garde) with semi-circular apses projecting far beyond it, as though—in the phrase of Eumenes, a local historian and orator of the late 3rd and early 4th centuries—they were stretching out welcoming arms to those about to enter the town.[29]

All who are interested in the development of Burgundian architecture, should give careful attention to the Porte d'Arroux, which is certainly the source of one of the most marked characteristics of the style,—the use of the fluted pilasters, which, for some reason or other, seem to have struck the fancy of the architects of this part of France. We shall see this arcade imitated closely in the triforium gallery of the cathedral of St. Lazare, and also influencing, in turn, the churches of Cluny, Paray le Monial, Notre Dame de Beaune, and others.

The masonry of the gate is very finely executed, with close joints, without mortar, in the manner of the period, and is, on the whole, in a wonderfully good state of preservation. The lower part of the work is quite plain. The archivolts, the entablature, including the architrave and the frieze, show little ornament; the cornice, however, is richly decorated with dentals, palmettes and other designs, as is also the remaining fragment of cornice above the arcade, whose fluted pilasters have beautiful capitals in the Corinthian style.

The other surviving Roman gate,—the Porte St. André,—is on the north-east boundary of the city, not far from the Porte d'Arroux, by way of the Faubourg Arroux and the Rue de la Croix Blanche. It is less picturesquely situate, and, though very similar, is distinctly inferior to its neighbour in design and finish. The central arches are lower, and heavier, while the gallery lacks the lightness and grace which are characteristic of the Porte d'Arroux, and is, moreover, built in a stone darker and less pleasing to the eye than the oolithic limestone of the lower portion.

M. de Fontenay suggests that this upper part was restored at some later and degenerate period of Roman architecture. Certainly the plain pilasters are badly designed and carelessly set, while the capitals, of a composite, semi-ionic order, appear to be too narrow for their pilasters—not too wide, as stated by M. de Fontenay, and also by M. Déchelette in his careful little guide to Autun. The Porte St. André shows no signs of having been fitted with a portcullis. Hamerton[30]states, no doubt correctly, that the door was barred by strong beams inserted into holes and grooves. These are still visible.

The Porte St. André, it should be noted, is one of the most complete Roman gates existing in France. The lower portion of one of the flanking towers, which rose originally several feet above the attic story of the gate, owes its escape from destruction to its shape, which, coinciding with that of a typical Romanesque chapel, tempted certain ecclesiastics of the middle ages, to dedicate it to St. André, as a place for Christian worship.[31]These flanking towers comprised three stories. The first communicated with the Chemin de Ronde, along the crest of the walls, the second was a vaulted chamber, and the third remained open to the sky. Access was obtained by a double staircase.

On the question of the period during which these gates were built, M. de Fontenay and Viollet le Duc are again at variance,—the latter attributing them to the fourth or fifth centuries,[32]the former to the reign of Vespasian (a.d.69-79).[33]Strange as it may seem that another writer should contradict continually so eminent an authority as the last-named, the author of "Autun et ses Monuments" again has reason on his side, since he can refer to the orator Eumenes as describing the gates in the year 311a.d.

Moreover, since the Roman walls were admittedly broken down in many places during the siege by Tetricus, in the year 269a.d.,—an event of which Eumenes was a witness,—and the inhabitants were already beginning to retire within the safer precincts of the Citadel; what would be the reason for erecting elaborate gates on the line of the ruined wall? I am not an authority upon ancient architecture; but I was certainly astonished to read the date given in the "Dictionnaire Raisonné"; and I should be glad to know whether other experts support M. le Duc's theory.

Of the two other gates—the Porte St. Andoche, on the south-west, and the Porte de Rome on the south-east, in the direction of Lyons,—nothing remains except the rectangular portion of one of the lateral towers of the former. The loss of the Porte de Rome, or the "Porte des Marbres," as it was popularly called, is especially to be regretted, since that name alone suggests the truth, of which evidence exists, that it was by far the most beautiful of the four. Moreover, it has additional historic interest as being the gate by which Constantine entered Autun in 311.

The old writers agree in describing the Porte des Marbres as a thing of beauty,—a quality which was its undoing, as offering an irresistible attraction to the Mediæval and later builders. Several ancient Corinthian capitals, not otherwise easily accounted for, are to be seen to-day in the porch of the cathedral built at the close of the 12th century. It appears, indeed, that around the present site of the Fountain of the Pelican was a burial ground named Les Marbres, on account of its richness in borrowed sculpture. The site of the gate was known from the 14th century onwards as "à Marbres" or "de Marboribus." At the time of the construction of the bastion of the Jambe de Bois, the workmen unearthed many marbles, including columns, capitals, and bases of the Corinthian or some composite order.[34]The date of the final destruction of the Porte des Marbres is uncertain; but its flanking towers, then known as the Fors de Marboribus, were still standing in the middle of the 14th century.

Before beginning another chapter, let me speak one word of warning. If you ask one of the humbler inhabitants of Autun where the Porte St. Andoche stood, you will be directed, without hesitation,—as we were,—to the bank of the river, near the railway station. Having reached that spot and crossed the bridge, you will obtain a lovely view of the Roman wall and the river beside it, but will fail to find the remaining tower of the gate, for the reason that it is not there. The Porte St. Andoche stood at the foot of the Boulevard Schneider, opposite to the Couvent du Sacrement, on the road leading, by way of the enceinte, to the Tour des Ursulines.

The reader may ask why the peasants should misdirect him? They misdirect him, in this particular instance, because they believe that the gate really stood on the town side of the western bridge of the Arroux, in the corresponding position to that of the Porte d'Arroux. But my point is, that, had your informant been utterly ignorant of the supposed whereabouts of the gate, he would, very probably, have directed you with almost equal facility. The Burgundian peasant is very ignorant; but he is also very proud,—much too proud to admit that he does not know the whereabouts of a monument that a stranger has come, perhaps, a thousand miles to visit. His swift imagination, therefore, promptly creates the site; and he, or she, will tell you promptly, volubly, and with much circumstantial detail, exactly how to get there. In this snare we have been taken many times during our travels among the Burgundians. The Provençals have a different and preferable method. They do not invent a site for the monument; they deny its existence. Speaking with some experience of the peculiar ways of the French peasant in such matters, my advice to the gentle stranger is—not to trust him. Get the best guide and map that you can find in the local librairie; and rely on them, and on your own intelligence. You may then, when you are at fault, consult the passer by as to details, letting your judgment decide whether, in his particular case, he is to be trusted.

If it be a Château that you are seeking, you must be doubly careful. To a French peasant many a tiny cottage is a "fine house" (belle maison), and almost every modern house, of any pretentions at all, is a château. To us, on the contrary, a château means a castle; usually an ancient one.

Many a time has a blue-shirted peasant looked up from his work by the road side, to address me somewhat as follows:

"The Château de Bon Espoir; Certainly, Monsieur, 'tis there, three kilometres away, up the hill, tout droit en montant."[35]

We climb the three kilometres, wander about for an hour, and return disconsolate. The labourer, hearing the whirr of bicycle wheels, looks up again.

"M'sieur et Dame have found the Château?"

"No, Monsieur. They told us up there that the ancient Château de Bon Espoir was on the other side of the valley to the north."

"Oh! that one? That's only an old ruin. I thought you meant the château de Monsieur Pigot."

"No. Who is Monsieur Pigot?"

"Monsieur Pigot, 'Sieur Dame, is the proprietor of the grand magasin du Louvre at Paris. He has a lovely château, up there where you went. They would have let you in if you had gone up the drive."

"We are sorry we missed it. Good day, Monsieur."

The "lovely château" was a terrible erection of red brick and stone, defiling the landscape for a mile around.

End of chapter II; Burgundian Peasant

Footnotes:[10]De Bello Gallico, lib. 1, cap. 23: "Bibracte, by far the finest and largest town of the Aedui."[11]I refer all who want full details of the period to M. Camille Jullian's book "Histoire de la Gaule," and to Mm. de Fontenay and de Charmasse's "Autun et ses Monuments avec un précis historique," a very useful book obtainable at the "Libraire Dujessieu" at Autun.[12]The battle took place probably near Montmort, about 5 kilometres north of Toulon.[13]De Bell: Gall: lib. i, cap. 15: "Autun et ses Monuments," p. 12.[14]"Ille enim revocatus resistere, ac se manu defendere—saepe claimitans liberum se liberaque civitatis esse." Cæsar de Bell. Gall. lib. v. cap. 7; "Autun et ses Monuments," p. 19.[15]"Autun et ses Monuments," Précis Historique, p.27.[16]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 8.[17]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 8 and 9.[18]See "Lazarus" in "Judas Iscariot" by Andreev.[19]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 216-232.[20]"Autun et ses Monuments," "Précis Historique," p. 206-7.[21]François Perrier, poet of the 16th century, quoted in "Autun et ses Monuments," from the Mémoires of the Société Eduenne.[22]Ibid, p. 71-73.[23]See the interesting map of the Roman City in "Autun et ses Monuments." Roman Autun was sacked again by the Saracens in 731a.d.; the havoc on that occasion being even more complete than that wrought by Tetricus.[24]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome 9, p. 68.[25]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome 9, p. 68.[26]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 216-232.[27]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome vii., p. 214. Note I.[28]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome vii., p. 314.[29]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 36.[30]P. G. Hamerton, The Mount, p. 190.[31]Déchelette, "Guide des Monuments d'Autun," p. 10.[32]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome vii., p. 314.[33]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 46.[34]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. cliv., 45 and 414.[35]Straight ahead as you go up.

Footnotes:

[10]De Bello Gallico, lib. 1, cap. 23: "Bibracte, by far the finest and largest town of the Aedui."

[11]I refer all who want full details of the period to M. Camille Jullian's book "Histoire de la Gaule," and to Mm. de Fontenay and de Charmasse's "Autun et ses Monuments avec un précis historique," a very useful book obtainable at the "Libraire Dujessieu" at Autun.

[12]The battle took place probably near Montmort, about 5 kilometres north of Toulon.

[13]De Bell: Gall: lib. i, cap. 15: "Autun et ses Monuments," p. 12.

[14]"Ille enim revocatus resistere, ac se manu defendere—saepe claimitans liberum se liberaque civitatis esse." Cæsar de Bell. Gall. lib. v. cap. 7; "Autun et ses Monuments," p. 19.

[15]"Autun et ses Monuments," Précis Historique, p.27.

[16]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 8.

[17]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 8 and 9.

[18]See "Lazarus" in "Judas Iscariot" by Andreev.

[19]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 216-232.

[20]"Autun et ses Monuments," "Précis Historique," p. 206-7.

[21]François Perrier, poet of the 16th century, quoted in "Autun et ses Monuments," from the Mémoires of the Société Eduenne.

[22]Ibid, p. 71-73.

[23]See the interesting map of the Roman City in "Autun et ses Monuments." Roman Autun was sacked again by the Saracens in 731a.d.; the havoc on that occasion being even more complete than that wrought by Tetricus.

[24]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome 9, p. 68.

[25]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome 9, p. 68.

[26]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 216-232.

[27]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome vii., p. 214. Note I.

[28]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome vii., p. 314.

[29]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 36.

[30]P. G. Hamerton, The Mount, p. 190.

[31]Déchelette, "Guide des Monuments d'Autun," p. 10.

[32]"Dictionnaire Raisonné," Tome vii., p. 314.

[33]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 46.

[34]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. cliv., 45 and 414.

[35]Straight ahead as you go up.

Heading, chapter III; Head of Augustus

Leaving the Hotel St. Louis, about which I shall have more to say later on, and passing along the Rue de l'Arquebus, you emerge upon an open space, where stands a statue to a Gaulish chieftain with whom we have already made acquaintance—the Druid, Divitiacus.

It may be heresy on my part, but I must admit that I have very little sympathy with the French passion for erecting statues of known or unknown persons, in every public place, quite irrespective of any ulterior considerations, such as whether such a monument is in any way expressive of the celebrity's particular talent or genius, or whether modern garments in carved stone are desirable in a "Place," often bordered with the most beautiful examples of Gothic or Renaissance architecture.

Many an open space in the ancient cities of France might have been spared such an indignity, had the French people cared to remember that, in the absence of a more worthy memorial—such as a house that can be lived in—a wall-tablet is sufficient for all practical purposes. M. Emile Montégut, in his "Souvenirs de Bourgogne," has very justly satirized the French idiosyncracy; but France in general, and Burgundy in particular, still bristles with unnecessary statues.

The memorial of Divitiacus, however, is an exception to the general rules, for the figure is a successful and spirited piece of work, showing the Druid, bareheaded, pointing down the Roman Road. His helmet lies at his feet, and he carries a shield on which a battle scene is engraved. The figure stands upon a historic site; for here, on the west side of the Voied'Agrippa, joining gate with gate, stood three of the most important buildings of the Roman city,—the Temple of Apollo, the Schools, and the Capitol.

The Aedui had always conceived of Apollo as surrounded by the Muses. He was their God of poetry, of youth, of joy, of prosperity, and of beauty; he was the healer and enlightener; to him the woods and streams were consecrated in the days

"When holy were the haunted forest boughs,Holy the air, the water, and the fire;"

In the third century the Healer was already the most venerated of the Roman divinities in the hierarchy of Augustodunum, and his temple was probably the most important of them all, until 270, when it fell, with many another Roman temple and palace, before the hordes of Tetricus.

The Emperor Constantius Chlorus, however, decided that the temples should rise again; and it appears, from the records of Eumenes, that, by the end of the third century, the house of "Apollo Noster" was restored to more than its former beauty. The house was restored; but not the cult. Influences more powerful than the decree of Constance Chlore, or of Constantine, were at work within the Roman city. Every year, meaner gifts were offered, fewer vows were made before the Temple of Apollo; every year more citizens—at first in fearful secrecy, later with open enthusiasm—worshipped the Carpenter of Nazareth.

Excavations have revealed the substructure of the circular building which is generally accepted as having been the Temple of Apollo. The character of the remains, shewing that strings of bricks were used in the construction of the building,[36]point to the reign of Constantius Chlorus, or of his son Constantine,[37]as the probable date. Readers familiar with the Roman buildings of Arles, will recognise the same architectural feature in the Palace of Constantine in that town.

The great schools of Autun, the Ecoles Méniennes, as they were called, were probably situate between the Temple of Apollo and the Capitol, just below the site of the present Sous-préfeture. They appear to have been well known throughout the Roman Empire; for Tacitus[38]mentions the capital of the Aedui as a place where the children of the Gaulish nobility were wont to apply themselves eagerly to the study of the liberal arts, while Eumenes speaks of them as "a sanctuary consecrated to instruction and eloquence, a very home of literature; for," says he, "the study of letters is the foundation of all the virtues; they are, indeed, a school of temperance, of modesty, of vigilance, of patience; and when all these virtues are implanted as a habit in the heart of childhood, they penetrate, like a vigorous sap, all the functions of civil life, and even those which seem to be in opposition to it, I mean the charges and duties of military life."[39]

Many men, celebrated in their day, must have attended these schools, which seem to have retained their popularity well into the third century, though, at the time of their destruction in the catastrophy of 270a.d., they may, perhaps, have been living, to a certain extent, upon their past glories. We do not know much concerning their architecture; but Eumenes says they were known as a monument of imposing beauty, and adds this interesting detail—that "the buildings were surrounded by galleries or porticos, in which the students could see every day the extent of all the lands and of all the seas, the towns restored by the good-will of the invincible emperors, the nations conquered by their valour, and the barbarous countries chained by the terror of their arms. There were shewn the name and situation of each country, its extent, its relative distance, the source and outfall of each river, the windings of the banks, and the circuits of the sea which washes the continents and the shores of the countries swept by its impetuous movement. The whole universe was there pictured. There were to be seen the two rivers of Persia, the parched regions of Lybia, the joined branches of the Rhine, and the many mouths of the Nile."[40]

The schools had been named after these galleries, on whose walls or ceilings the young nobles of Gaul could learn all that was known of the world of their day, that is to say, the whole of the Roman Empire. Maeniana,—in French, Ménienne,—means a construction projecting from the front of an edifice, an exterior gallery or balcony, which appears to have been so common a characteristic of the schools of Augustodunum, that the term Maeniana came to be applied to them generally.[41]

In 270a.d.the schools suffered the general fate, and the scholars, henceforth, had to be accommodated in separate quarters. Eumenes talked of restoring the porticos, and repainting the map of the world; but, probably, the work was never carried out, and the schools remained in their shattered state, even after the adjoining buildings—the Temple of Apollo and the Capitol—had been restored to something of their former glory.

The Capitol was probably the building whose foundations, circular on plan, have been traced to the garden of the Hospice St. Gabriel, beside the Ecoles Méniennes, and fronting also upon the great central street leading from gate to gate. Authorities appear to have differed considerably on this point; but many Corinthian capitals, fragments of entablatures, statuettes, groups of goddesses, etc., have been found on this site, suggesting that it was once occupied by a building of great importance,[42]decorated as one would expect of such a temple, and dedicated, as the Capitol was, to the principal divinities of the official hierarchy. Eumenes, moreover, states that the Capitol was situate beside the schools. M. de Fontenay, however, thinks that, possibly, the Capitol may have occupied the other circular site, now attributed to the Temple of Apollo; and, conversely, that the latter building should be placed below the schools.

Not far from this centre of Roman civilization, beyond the shady plantation of plane trees, the Promenade des Marbres, dotted with seats of Roman stone, and stretching eastward from the statue of Divitiacus, you will find, if you follow the Faubourg des Marbres, on the right side of the downward slope, a board with the legend "Caves Joyaux." Then, turning up the path to the right, passing a hideous modern cottage devoted principally to "tir," from the walls of which the counterfeit presentments of dead citizens look out stonily upon you from the Roman stele, you will come upon a grassy, semi-circular terrace, planted with lime trees, whose green banks slope down towards a smaller semi-circle of sward below.

Beyond it lies a broad expanse of allotment garden, in which peasant women are bending over their crops. Standing among the leaves, that, on this bright autumn day, are fluttering upon the grass, and looking down more closely into the semi-circle, one observes irregularities in the surface of the horseshoe, lines suggestive of terracing; strangely shaped, hollow, grassy boulders that seem to have shouldered their way up from below. Here, at the end of the curve, is a mass of broken stone; there a black shadow below the revealed head of an arch projecting from the weed-entangled débris.

The reader will have guessed his whereabouts. This is, or was, the Roman theatre. Upon those heavy shoulders rested the marble seats; there were the entrances and exits by which the spectators passed to and from the staircases and corridors. From the flat semi-circle below us, the chorus chanted their melodious comments upon the play that was being enacted on the stage where now the women are at work.

AUTUN - MEDIAEVAL TOWERS

There are those who will tell you that the Theatre is not worth the trouble of a visit,—that it has lost all charm. I cannot agree. On the contrary, ruined though the monument is, hardly one stone of it left upon another, there is nothing more impressive to be seen in Autun; for the general contour of the building is so preserved, that, for any person in the least degree familiar with the forms of these monuments, no great effort ofthe imagination is needed to restore the play-house to some of its ancient glory, and to re-people it with the voices of the past. Moreover, the spectator, though he cannot see the graceful columns, that, probably, as at Arles, rose from the back of the stage, nor the sculptured frieze, nor the marble capitals and statues that adorned the proscenium, nor the arcaded gallery that crowned the upper rows of seats, though he may not follow with the eye the distant white roads of Vesentio and Agrippa; yet still his glance can range over the same landscape that met the Roman of old, the near fields and meadows, the distant uplands and gloomy forest lit by the rising sun.

Still more impressive must the theatre be, when moonlight has shed her revealing mystery over the terraces of this forsaken garden.

Tradition has it, that, until the latter part of the 17th century, a considerable portion of the Roman theatre was still standing; and M. de Fontenay gives a very interesting sketch of the ruins in 1610, showing that soil and débris had not then obliterated the tiers of seats, and that the fore-part and the arcaded gallery of the semi-circle were still in existence.[43]This comparatively happy condition of affairs might have endured until to-day, but for an unfortunate temptation that overcame Gabriel de Roquette, Bishop of Autun, in 1675, to make use of the Roman theatre as a quarry for the new seminary he was building. It was a deed doubly inexcusable, because, at so late a period, after the publication of Eden Thomas' book, and others dealing with the subject, he had no longer the commonly-urged excuse that no interest was taken in the ancient monuments of Autun.[44]It is quite possible, however, that we are blaming the bishop needlessly. After the fate of Cluny, who shall say of what a Frenchman is not capable, when the lust of destruction is upon him?

The theatre of Autun was 147m.80. in diameter, the largest in Gaul, and the fourth largest of the known buildings of the kind; coming immediately after that of Bacchus at Athens, and those of Ephesus and Smyrna.[45]The orchestra was paved in red marble, and the stage lined with white marble veined with red.

The exterior arcades of the hemi-cycle were formed of large blocks, the space between ornamented with pateræ. Anfert's, the oldest description we have, dating from the 17th century, mentions that the circumference of the theatre is broken by several chambers and subterranean passages; these chambers are vaulted; they are seven or eight feet wide, and known as "Caves Jolliot."[46]

This brings us back to the legend "Caves Joyaux," which greeted our approach to the theatre. Up to the end of the 16th century, the remains appear to have been known as the "Grotto" (Grottes), an interesting example of the extraordinary vulgarity of popular nomenclature. Later, a certain worthy Autunois, whose line of business has not come down to us with his name, decided that these vaulted chambers would suit him excellently as a domicile. No doubt his venture proved successful, for the Grotto soon became known as the "Cellier Jolyot," or "Caves Jolyot," a name which, in the form of "Caves Joyaux," still passes current among the vulgar of Autun.[47]This is by no means the first time that the substructure of a Roman monument has been dubbed "cellars" by an indiscriminating public.

For us the Roman theatre was more than a historic relic,—it was our favourite lunching place in Autun! However severe a shock the admission may be to some of my readers, I admit boldly, that never, during all our travels in France, do we, if we can avoid it, lunch either in restaurant or hotel. To go twice a day, with credit, through the six courses of a French déjeuner and dinner, is a gastronomic effort of which we confess ourselves wholly incapable; consequently, before setting forth on our day's excursion, we may be seen passing into the épicerie, boulangerie, or other boutique of the village street, whence, our pockets bulging with sundry small paper parcels, we emerge, amid the not wholly disinterested curiosity of all the old ladies who have been eyeing us from door and window during our journey down the street.

The custom of picnic lunches is one that I recommend to all travellers in Burgundy, including those to whom the saving of a five-pound note, at the end of a month's holiday, is a matter of no moment whatever. The Burgundians feed more richly, perhaps, than any other people of Europe, and their dinners, like the country's monuments—rich rather than dainty—need a healthy appetite to do them justice. Further, the secrecy that these picnic methods necessarily involve—for you cannot proclaim your intention to a maître d'hôtel, whose luncheon tables groan beneath their burden of good things appointed for you to eat,—will titillate deliciously the insatiable curiosity of the lady his wife, who passes hours in wondering where and how you lunched.

A Burgundian Welcome

"Monsieur et Dame will not be in to lunch to-day?"

"No, Madame."

"Monsieur et Dame were not in to lunch yesterday."

"No, Madame." A pause, during which our hostess, screwing up her courage for the plunge, eyed us with a glance, half-timid, half-amused.

"Where did Monsieur et Dame lunch yesterday?" The speaker looked at my wife; my wife looked at me. I looked innocently at Madame.

"On a wall, Madame." Madame's eyebrows rose slightly. She could make nothing of it.

"But it was raining all day yesterday, Monsieur!"

"Not on the wall, Madame. The fact is, we never lunch at an hotel—even when it rains."

"Vous faites bien" was what she said to us. What she said to her husband, an hour later, I leave to the reader to guess. But we parted excellent friends.

These picnic lunches, of course, are rather scrappy. Things get blown away sometimes, or are fastened upon by ants. Il faut souffrir pour bien vivre.

While I have been writing these notes, my wife has left the bench of Roman stone that is our table, and is seated on the grass half way down towards the orchestra, where she is exercising her not inconsiderable powers of imagination in recreating the traditions of the spot. Also she is proving, unwittingly, the excellent acoustic properties of the natural theatre, constructedin the Greek, rather than in the Roman method; that is to say, by hollowing out of the hill, not building up upon the plain. The keeper of the buvette told us that a play is to be given in the theatre next June (1911) and "a little bull-fight."

Going back to the hotel that day, we noticed, among the crisp leaves of the Promenade des Marbres, many a handful of confetti,—souvenirs of the great fair or festival of St. Lazare, that, for nearly the whole of September, disturbs the tranquillity of Autun. Let the traveller, therefore, see the Roman city before September, or after it.

The stone benches beneath the trees of the Promenade des Marbres, placed there about 1765, appear to have been taken from another of the most important Roman monuments of Autun, the Amphitheatre, a building which, in the middle ages, was known by the same name as its neighbour, the Theatre, and suffered a similar fate. It was situate to the north of the Caves Joyaux, close to the wall of the town, in such a position that the Faubourg des Marbres nearly bisects its site. Not very much is known concerning it; but its dimensions have been determined by excavations that prove it to have been the largest of the known amphitheatres of France, as it is of Burgundy as a whole.

Here are the figures, compared with those of the Arènes of Arles and Nimes, both of which still exist.[48]

Large diameter.Small diameter.Autun154 metres130 metres.Arles140 metres.28103 metres.20.Nimes135 metres.27105 metres.87.

Large diameter.

Small diameter.

154 metres

130 metres.

140 metres.28

103 metres.20.

135 metres.27

105 metres.87.

M. de Fontenay publishes in his work, a drawing which shows that, in 1610, there remained of the amphitheatre two parallel, vaulted arcades; but he does not venture on an attempt to reconstruct the building. It appears that, by the 18th century, all trace of the construction had vanished, except the oval site, which, being at a lower level than the surrounding land, is still popularly known as the Crot-Volu (Creux Volu), the latter name being that of a 14th century family who occupied part of it.[49]One of the most significant discoveries made among the ruins was that of the skull of a lion, probably the victim of a gladiator. It is supposed that the amphitheatre was built contemporaneously with the theatre, and, in the year of the siege, suffered the same fate.

A walk round the quiet roads and avenues of this outlying portion of Autun, and half an hour spent on the grassy slopes of the theatre, cannot fail to impress the most casual observer with a sense of the grandeur and extent of the Roman city. Modern Autun is a town of respectable dimensions; but here, within the Roman Enceinte, the few dwelling houses stand isolated among their own gardens; and ancient, immemorial trees cast their shadows over quiet spots once resounding with the hum and rumour of Roman life.

All those who would visualize Burgundian history will be grateful that, in spite of the destructive enmity of her foes, and the scarcely less destructive ignorance and folly of certain of her inhabitants, enough of Augustodunum is left to enable us to group round her our mental pictures of this part of Gallo-Roman Burgundy.

End of chapter III; Masks of Comedy and Tragedy

Footnotes:[36]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 151.[37]Constantius Chlorus died 306a.d.Constantine reigned from 306-337.[38]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 160.[39]Ibid, p. 161.[40]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 165.[41]Ibid, p. 167.[42]Ibid, pp. 152-158.[43]"Autun et ses Monuments." Facing p. 181.[44]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 183.[45]Ibid, p. 189.[46]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 181.[47]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 178-179.[48]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 193.[49]Ibid, p. 196.

Footnotes:

[36]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 151.

[37]Constantius Chlorus died 306a.d.Constantine reigned from 306-337.

[38]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 160.

[39]Ibid, p. 161.

[40]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 165.

[41]Ibid, p. 167.

[42]Ibid, pp. 152-158.

[43]"Autun et ses Monuments." Facing p. 181.

[44]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 183.

[45]Ibid, p. 189.

[46]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 181.

[47]"Autun et ses Monuments," pp. 178-179.

[48]"Autun et ses Monuments," p. 193.

[49]Ibid, p. 196.

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