|
Matilda Betham-Edwards - Holidays in Eastern France
of them are in receipt of what is considered a fair income for an English curate or vicar, but they work all
the same.
At Coulommiers, there is nothing to see but a fine old church with an imposing tower, rising from the
centre of the town. I went inside, and, though the doors stood wide open, found it empty, except for a
little market-girl, who, having deposited her basket, was bent, not on prayer, but on counting her money.
In Brittany, on market-days, there is never a lack of pious worshippers; here it is not so, the good folks of
Seine et Marne evidently being inclined to materialism. The interior of this picturesque church is very
quaintly coloured, and, as a whole, it is well worth seeing.
Like many other towns in these parts, Coulommiers dates from an ancient period, and long belonged to
the English crown. Ravaged during the Hundred Years' War, the religious wars and the troubles of the
League, nothing to speak of remains of its old walls and towers of defence. Indeed, except for the drive
thither across country, and the fruit and cheese markets, it possesses no temptations for the traveller.
Market-day is a sight for a painter. The show of melons alone makes a subject; the weather-beaten
market-women, with gay coloured handkerchief twisted round their heads, their blue gowns, the
delicious colour and lovely form of the fruit, all this must be seen. Here and there were large pumpkins,
cut open to show the ripe red pulp, with abundance of purple plums, apples and pears just ripening, and
bright yellow apricots. It was clear les Anglais had not carried off all the fruit! At Coulommiers,
as elsewhere, you may search in vain for rags, dirt, or a sign of beggary. Every one is rich, independent,
and happy.
CHAPTER III. PROVINS AND TROYES.
Few travellers in this part of Eastern France turn off the Great Mulhouse line of railway to visit the
ancient city of Provins, yet none with a love of the picturesque can afford to pass it by. Airily, nay,
coquettishly perched on its smiling, green eminence, and still possessed of an antique stateliness, in
striking contrast with the busy little trim town that has sprung up at his feet, Provins captivates the
beholder by virtue alike of its uniqueness and poetic charm; I can think of nothing in my various travels
at all like this little Acropolis of Brie and Champagne, whether seen in a distance in the railway, or from
the ramparts that still encircle it as in the olden time. It is indeed a gem; miniature Athens of a mediaeval
princedom, that although on a small scale boasted of great power and splendour; tiny Granada of these
Eastern provinces, bearing ample evidence of past literary and artistic glories!
You quit the main line at Longueville, and in a quarter of an hour come upon a vast panorama, crowned
by the towers and dome of the still proud, defiant-looking little city of Provins, according to some writers
the Agedincum of Caesar's Commentaries, according to others more ancient still. It is mentioned in the
capitularies of Charlemagne, and in the Middle Ages was the important and flourishing capital of
Basse-Brie and residence of the Counts of Champagne. Under Thibault VI., called Le Chansonnier,
Provins reached its apogee of prosperity, numbering at that epoch 80,000 souls. Like most other towns in
these parts, it suffered greatly in the Hundred Years' War, being taken by the English in 1432, and
retaken from them in the following year. It took part in the League, but submitted to Henry IV. in 1590,
and from that time gradually declined; at present it numbers about 7,000 inhabitants only.
The rich red rose, commonly called Provence rose, is in reality the rose of Provins, having been
introduced here by the Crusaders from the Holy Land. Gardens of the Provins rose may still be found at
Provins, though they are little cultivated now for commercial purpose; Provence, the land of the
Troubadours, has therefore no claim whatever upon rose lovers, who are indebted instead to the airy little
|
