Such a Church for beauty and interest had never before existed! These were the sentiments of the good curé, a rosy-cheeked, comfortable, courteous old antiquary. It certainly merits his enthusiasm.
The three great richly sculptured arches of the façade are magnificent of their kind. It seems as if all the saints and angels of Christendom had alighted in a swarm upon these sumptuous portals. They cluster on frieze and cornice, on arch and bracket and niche, in multitudes, the whole work perfectly balanced and finely executed, and resulting in an effect of romantic richness combined with the pious simplicity of sentiment which is characteristic of all Southern Romanesque churches. The crypt is especially magnificent.
THE CHURCH OF LES SAINTES MARIES SEEN FROM THE CAMARGUE.
By Joseph Pennell.
But the church of which one hears the most in Provence is "Les Saintes Maries," or "Santa Maria de la Mar," as it was sometimes called in the twelfth century. It is another of the fortified churches of the littoral, a sister to Maguelonne and still more famous. At one end of our long day's journey stood Aigues Mortes, at the other Les Saintes Maries. The little white speck above the level of the plain on the far horizon, which can be discerned when about ten miles from Aigues Mortes, grows bigger and bigger, till at last the strange, rude, characteristic outline of the lonely church by the sea fascinates and holds the eye till one reaches it after the 36 kilometres of desert.
The shrine of the three holy women is visited every year by hundreds of pilgrims, and many a sick person is cured by the power of the relics, say the curé and the Catholic Church—by the not less astonishing potency of the "unconscious mind" assert the more advanced of the modern schools of mental science.
The curé said that he had seen several hundred cures. Many paralytics and those who had been bitten by mad dogs came on this pilgrimage, and he had known only two cases of failure. The bones of Mary, mother of Jacob, and of her daughter, Mary Salomé, with those of their servant Sara, are all preserved in a richly painted reliquary, which is let down among the people from its shrine above the tribune. This is the moment of salvation, and hundreds of arms are stretched imploringly towards it, and hundreds of voices are raised in supplication; and judging by the many well-authenticated accounts some mysterious healing power is actually set in motion.
Anything more forlorn than the little village that has grown up around the church is difficult to imagine. There is not a soul stirring, and scarcely a sound is to be heard indicating human life. The Camargue stretches to westward. The sea beats on the sandy beach a little way beyond the village square. One hears the waves quietly running in upon the shore. In the middle of the square stands an ancient carved stone cross. The people of the place have the reputation of being rude and almost savage, and their ignorance is said to be incredible.