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Matilda Betham-Edwards - East of Paris
being thus lifted above the hubbub, malodours, and microbes of the human bee-hive below. For my own
part I prefer a turnpike level, despite the engaging aspect of those rose-girt verandahs, bowers, and lawns
on a level with the cathedral tower.
"Nevers makes a fine appearance, rising proudly from the Loire," wrote Arthur Young, "but on the first
entrance it is like a thousand other places."
But the indefatigable apostle of the turnip had no time for archaeology on his great tour, or he would
have discovered that Nevers possesses more than one architectural gem of the first water. The cathedral
certainly, alike without and within, must take rank after those of Chartres, Le Mans, Reims, and how
many others! but the exquisite little church of St. Etienne and the Ducal Palace, are both perfect in their
way, and will enchant all lovers of harmony and proportion. The first, another specimen of so-called
Romanesque-Burgundian, has to be looked for, standing as it does in a kind of cul de sac; the
second occupies a conspicuous site, forms, indeed, the centre-piece and crowning ornament of the town.
Daintiest of the dainty, this fairy-like Italian palace in the heart of France, reminds us that once upon a
time Nevers was the seat of Italian dukes, the last of whom was a nephew of Mazarin. The great
Cardinal, "whose heart was more French than his speech," and who served France so well, despite his
nationality and his nepotism, having purchased the Nivernais of a Gonzague, finally incorporated it into
the French crown in 1659.
To this day, Nevers remains true to its Italian traditions. Go into the tiniest suburban street, enter the
poorest little general shop, and you are reminded of the art that made the city famous hundreds of years
ago, an art introduced by a Duke of Mantua, relation of Catherine de Medicis. It was in the sixteenth
century, that this feudal lord of the Nivernais summoned Italian potters hither, among these a native of
Faenza. Under his direction a manufactory of faience was established, the ware resembling that of his
native city, scriptural and allegorical subjects traced in manganese. The unrivalled blue glaze of Nevers
is of later date. Just as Rouen potters were celebrated for their reds, the Nivernais surpassed them in
blues. No French or foreign potters ever achieved an azure of equal depth and purity.
The golden age of Nevers majolica belongs to that early period, but the highly ornamented faience now
produced in its ateliers, shows taste and finish, and in the town itself may be found charming things as
cheap as, if not cheaper than, our commonest earthenware.
As I write, I have before me some purchases made at a small general dealer's, a plate, and two small
amphora-shaped vases, costing a few sous each. The colouring of this cheap pottery is very harmonious,
and the glaze remarkable for its brilliance. The shopwoman, with whom we had a pleasant chat, did not
seem astonished at our admiration for her goods.
"I sell lots of such things as you have just bought, to folks like you" (de votre genre), she said,
"strangers who like to carry away a souvenir of the place, and all my ware comes from the same
manufacture."
To-day Nevers thrives upon ornamental majolica. A hundred and ten years ago it throve upon plates and
dishes commemorating the Revolution. In the upper storey of the Ducal Palace we may read
revolutionary annals in faience, every event being memorialised by a piece of porcelain.
Curious enough is this record in earthenware, one stormy day after another being thus commemorated;
and perhaps more curious still is the evident care with which these fragile objects have been preserved.
Throughout the Napoleonic era they might pass - had not gold pieces then on one side the portrait of
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