After the hurly burly of debarkation at Avignon, and forcing our way through the army of luggage porters—a ferocious race, notorious, at this place, for the energy, amounting often to violence, with which they urge the acceptance of their kind offices—the picturesque look of the place, and the necessary hour of waiting for dinner, led me to a scene, which I accepted as a satisfactory greeting on my arrival in the land of the troubadours. A group of half a dozen labourers, returned from their day's work, were lolling in every variety of attitude, on some large stones placed in front of the château. They were singing—and with perfect precision of ensemble—each his part of the chorus. At the conclusion of every morceau, the whole party made the façade of the ancient palace echo with peals of laughter; after which they all talked at once, until they had agreed on the choice of the succeeding air.
The castle of Avignon—ancient residence of the Popes, shelters now a different sort of inmates. It serves for barracks for a regiment of infantry. At this moment the lamplighter had completed his rounds in the interior, and given to each of the innumerable windows an undue importance in the architectural effect of the mass. Such is the irregularity of their distribution over this vast façade—or such it appeared to be then, for I have not seen it by daylight—as to give them the appearance of having been thrown at it by handfuls, and fixed themselves each at its first point of contact with the wall.
Or by way of compensation for the extravagant supposition of so large a hand, we can suppose the edifice diminished, and resembling with its jagged outline, a ragged black cloak, which, having been stretched out, to serve as a mark for rifle-shooters, would admit the light through openings not less symmetrically distributed than these windows.
Between Avignon and Marseille, by the land route, the only spot of interest is Aix. It is a well placed little town; although, in the summer, its position must procure for it rather too much warmth. There are no remains of king Réné's palace; nor could I learn that any souvenir of him was extant, with the exception of a statue, which represents the jovial old king of the trouvères in the character of Bacchus. This figure ornaments a hot fountain, situated at the head of the wide street, planted with trees, by which the town is entered.
LETTER XVI.
VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR.
Cadiz.
I have just returned from a visit to the signal-tower—the highest look-out in Cadiz; from which is seen a panorama equalled by few in Europe. The Atlantic, and its coast down to Trafalgar Cape—the mountain distances of the Ronda—and Medina Sidonia on its sugar-loaf rock, like an advanced sentinel—all Cadiz, with its hundreds of white Belvideres—and the bright blue bay, decked with glittering white towns, and looking (but with more sparkling glow) like an enormous turquoise set round with pearls. But let not, I entreat you, these magic words—Cadiz—Andalucia—raise your expectations unduly; lest they be disappointed, on rinding that I fail in doing justice to this charming country. With regard to this town, not only would it be a task beyond my powers to paint its bright aspect and to give you a sufficiently glowing description of its pleasures. It is not even my intention to partake of these—being bent on accomplishing my principal object—the exploration of the monuments of Seville. However let us not anticipate. You ought to have had news of me from Gibraltar, where I made a much longer stay than I had intended, owing to an unexpected meeting with an old friend.
The fact is, I put off writing until I should again be in movement, hoping that my letters might thus acquire greater interest. I will resume my journey from France, in which country we parted.
The steam-packets leave Marseille for the south of Spain every tenth day; and I happened to arrive a day or two after one of the departures. Rather than wait eight days, therefore, I agreed for my passage on board a trader bound for Gibraltar; by which arrangement, as the captain assured me that the voyage would only occupy five days, I was to be at my journey's end before the departure of the Phénicien, as the steam-packet was called. The latter, moreover, made no progress excepting during the night, in order to afford the passengers an opportunity of passing each day in some town; and being anxious to arrive at Seville, I should not have liked the delays thus occasioned. I do not, however, recommend the adoption of my plan; for the five days, as it turned out, became twenty-four, and the Phénicien arrived at Cadiz long before I reached Gibraltar.