The small temple has been portrayed on canvas and paper thousands of times; familiarity with its graceful form can never exhaust its charms; measurements and analysis do not assist in making its beauty more apparent. Kings and Emperors have coveted it, and the miracle is that it has escaped destruction or removal. Napoleon was contemplating this latter when more pressing affairs demanded his attention, and Louis XIV., at the suggestion of the architect Colbert, would have transported it to Versailles, but the task was found to be impossible. Each succeeding age endeavours to pay its tribute to this flower of Greco-Roman art, but none has ever succeeded in describing the indescribable. Arthur Young, who visited Nîmes in the course of his travels through France during the Revolution, says:
“I visited the Maison Carrée yesterday evening, this morning, and three times during the course of the day. It is without comparison the most trifling, the most agreeable building I have ever seen. Without having an imposing grandeur, or displaying any extraordinary magnificence that might create surprise, it rivets the attention. In its proportions there is a magic harmony that charms the eye. It would be impossible to single out any special part for excellence of beauty, for it is altogether perfect in symmetry and grace.”
The temple stands in a square which was the Forum in Roman days; the remains of the foundations indicate the position which the contemporary buildings occupied. To-day the square is surrounded with modern buildings, but sufficient space is left between them and the temple to permit of its being viewed from all sides.
The modern theatre that stands on the left is classic in style, with Ionic pillars supporting the entablatures of its porch, but a glance at it is sufficient to demonstrate to what depths a modern imitation of a classic style can sink.
The temple, although in good preservation, has in its time seen many vicissitudes. Towards the end of the
Middle Ages it was installed as a town hall or council house, and its interior fitted to accommodate its new occupiers; but evidently it was not quite suitable, for, in the sixteenth century, the town authorities parted with it to a private person, in exchange for a piece of land upon which they could erect a building more adapted to their requirements. The new proprietor had little respect for the beauty of the ancient temple, and had no compunction in altering it to suit his prosaic needs. It was about this period that the Duchess d’Uzès tried to purchase the building to serve her and her descendants as a place of sepulture. This attempt to turn it into a family vault, however, failed; but the noble lord was more successful who managed to purchase and convert the temple into a stable, although this vandalism was loudly protested against by the learned and artistic inhabitants of the city. It changed hands again and passed into possession of the Augustine friars, who transformed it into a church or chapel, their occupation being conditional on their offering up on fête day masses and prayers for their King and Country. After the Revolution, the Government of the restoration stepped in and rescued beauty’s temple from further humiliations and abuse, and now a collection of the rare and precious relics of the most classic town in France is housed in its choicest building.
The other famous relic of Nemausus, the Arena, has been mentioned previously in connection with that of Arles. It is in much better preservation than the latter and more imposing, as it stands where an uninterrupted view of its vast proportions can be obtained. Smaller in actual measurement than the arena at Arles, it impresses one as being much larger. It has had a similar history, however, for in the fifth century the Visigoths who possessed the town turned it into a fortress, and the Saracens, who A.D. 719 had made themselves masters of Septimania or Languedoc, used it as a stronghold until they were driven out by the powerful Charles Martel.
Later in its history the Arena was occupied by over two thousand Nimansians, who built within the great ellipse a town of narrow streets and houses, the endless galleries and arcades offering a series of almost ready-made dwellings. They had a church too, the remains of which are being carefully preserved. The exterior of this Arena is pure Roman, as befits a building built for the Roman national sport. The two arcades of bold, deep-sunk arches are gloomily mysterious even when the brilliant sunlight illumines all around. At night the gloom and mystery increases, and the footfall of the solitary passer-by awakens echoes through the endless vaults that seem to reach into the beginning and end of time. And yet when the moon creeps up and throws her pale rays over the giant seats that rise in circles like the rings on a disturbed pool, the Arena has a beauty all its own—unpaintable, unspeakable.