It was surprising to find the remains of a hospital on the plateau above the city, with the niches visible for the beds of the patients; so surprising, indeed, that one is almost tempted to set learned authority at defiance. Perhaps, however, with all the brawls and tournaments of those amazing times, some such place was really necessary for repairing damaged knights.
As one looks downwards from this altitude, the city presents a strange aspect indeed. The grey buildings are flung together among the boulders, a tumultuous mass of human and natural handiwork. Truly
"The wind of ruin has passed this way."
Under the castle rock are the remains of a magnificent banqueting-hall, with caissoned vaulting like that of the Basilica of Constantine at Rome.
The Romans had been even at Les Baux, and it was they who built the walls which still here and there cling giddily to the sheer edge of the rock. But they had many successors. A Saracen tower stands shoulder to shoulder with Christian churches, and everywhere are signs of the great feudal era, with its religious enthusiasm, its din and its warfare.
Besides the Princes, who were Counts of Orange as well as Seigneurs of this little kingdom in the sky, there were powerful families in Les Baux.
The house of the Porcelets, one of the greatest, not only of the city, but of Provence, was nicknamed by King René, Grandeur des Porcelets. The Princes he called Inconstánce des Baux.
Out of the stern soil blossomed many a beautiful and accomplished lady, famed in troubadour song.
Berengaria des Baux was celebrated by the luckless Guilhelm de Cabestaing. Ranebaude inspired the world-famous Sordel; the charms of Cecilia, the beautiful Passe Rose, as we know, kept half the troubadours of France busy with vielle and lute; and there were Étienette, Clairette, and a host of others whose true history one would give much to know.