A Tour Through Old Provence

In Short

This book is a graceful, illustrated travelogue detailing a journey through the storied towns of Old Provence. By blending historical research with descriptive sketches of cities like Avignon, Arles, and Nîmes, the narrative documents the layered past of Southern France. It focuses on how ancient monuments—from Roman arenas to medieval fortresses—continue to shape the character of the modern landscape. It has lasted because of its evocative, atmospheric prose and its ability to capture the intersection of natural beauty and the decaying, permanent footprints of long-vanished dynasties.

The Story

The journey begins in the Rhone Valley, a territory marked by its fertility and its history as the Roman Provincia. The narrative follows a steady progression southward, stopping to examine the monuments that serve as anchors for regional identity. In Avignon, the focus falls on the imposing Palace of the Popes and the Cathedral of Notre Dame des Doms. The author delves into the town’s turbulent past, specifically the era when it became a republic and later a papal seat. This history is presented not merely as a timeline of dates, but as a series of violent shifts—crusades, the burning of heretics, and the internal schisms that forced popes into exile and eventually fueled the fires of the French Revolution.

From Avignon, the route leads to Villeneuve, where the massive Tower of Philip the Fair stands as a testament to the strategic necessity of controlling the river and the Papacy. The narrative then shifts toward the town of Tarascon, famous for its association with King René and the legendary beast known as the Tarasc. Here, the story touches on the friction between literary fame and local pride, noting how the town once banned works that depicted its inhabitants with perceived ridicule, only to later embrace the notoriety.

The journey continues into the haunting ruins of Les Baux, a town carved into rock where nature is slowly reclaiming the remnants of a powerful medieval lordship. The narrative highlights the contrast between the town’s former glory and its current state of decay, symbolized by the shifting signs of a local hotel that once displayed the "Golden Tresses" of a princess. Further exploration leads to the Abbey of Montmajour, a site of spiritual pilgrimage that eventually succumbed to the secular pressures of the eighteenth century.

In Arles, the focus turns to the deep influence of the Greeks and Romans. The narrative examines the city's amphitheatre and the burial grounds of the Alyscamps, where inscriptions on ancient tombs provide intimate, abbreviated biographies of the people who once lived there—boatmen, architects, and young women like Julia Tyrannia. Finally, the tour arrives at Nîmes and Orange. Nîmes is depicted as a city that has successfully reconciled its industrial present with its Roman past, particularly around the sacred spring that gave the city its origin. The narrative concludes with a look at the colossal wall of Orange and the Roman monuments of St. Remy, leaving the reader with the impression that Provence is a space where the past remains an active, inescapable participant in the present.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The narrative opens in the fertile Rhone Valley, establishing the region as a place where the landscape and human history are inextricably linked. It sets the tone by framing the ruins of castles and cities as "footprints" left by successive empires.

The papal center The account moves into the heart of Avignon, exploring the political and religious strife that defined the Papal residency. It details the physical destruction of the town’s defenses and the brutal aftermath of revolution.

The architecture of power The survey shifts to the military engineering of the Middle Ages, specifically the fortresses at Villeneuve that were designed to exert control over the river. It contrasts these stern, defensive structures with the artistic remnants found in monastery cloisters.

The decay of grandeur The journey reaches the ruins of Les Baux and Montmajour, where the focus turns to the decline of once-prosperous centers. It highlights how nature, through erosion and neglect, eventually reclaims the architectural ambitions of man.

The classical legacy The final stages explore the enduring Greek and Roman influences in Arles, Nîmes, and Orange. The narrative concludes by reflecting on the way these monumental gates and theatres continue to loom over the daily life of the modern inhabitants.

The People

The book is less a character study of individuals and more an inquiry into the collective identity of the Provençal people, shaped by "heredity and environment." However, specific figures anchor the historical narrative. King René of Naples appears as a figure of medieval authority and cultural patronage, whose legacy is etched into the towers of Tarascon. Jourdain Coupetête, the "General" of the Brigands, represents the darker, volatile energy of the French Revolution, illustrating how local grievances spiraled into the massacres at the Glacière tower.

The narrative also treats the inhabitants of these towns as characters in their own right, noting their "comic seriousness" and their pride in their history. The people of Tarascon act as a protective, if occasionally irrational, collective when they ban Daudet’s book to defend their reputation. The deceased, too, are cast as figures whose lives remain accessible; Julia Tyrannia, through the carvings on her tomb, is resurrected as a young woman of talent and music, bridging the distance between the ancient Roman world and the reader. Each of these people—the powerful, the violent, and the ordinary—serves to illustrate the author’s argument that the character of the modern Provençal is a mosaic of every generation that has come before.

In Its Own Voice

Romance is written so plainly on its face that even “he who motors may read,” and every day spent among its towns, villages, and castles is filled with vivid pictures of many of the more illustrious periods of civilisation.

The author reflects on the immediate, visual accessibility of history to the modern traveler.

The very appearance of the people, of their buildings, their manners and customs are as reminiscent of their remote ancestry as the ancient monuments to be found in their midst.

This observation underscores the author's argument that the region's past is not a dead artifact but a living, inherited trait.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the persistence of history in a physical landscape. The book argues that civilization in Provence is circular rather than linear; it sees the "footprints" of the Greeks, Romans, and medieval lords not as things that have vanished, but as things that have been absorbed. There is a deep, underlying tension between the human desire to build for eternity—as seen in the Roman arenas and the Palace of the Popes—and the entropic power of time and the elements. The book questions whether a culture can ever truly outrun its ancestry, ultimately suggesting that in Provence, the past provides the essential architecture for the present.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy historical travelogues that lean toward the contemplative and the atmospheric will find much to admire here. It is an excellent companion for anyone interested in the Romanesque and classical roots of Southern France. The prose is warm and observant, treating every ruined arch and crumbling wall with a reverence that makes the history feel immediate.

However, the reader should be prepared for the perspective of a twentieth-century traveler. The book reflects the attitudes of its time, particularly in its romanticized, sometimes detached view of the "provincial" character and its focus on an idealized version of European history. There are no simplified answers here; the narrative is dense with historical detail, and the author expects the reader to keep pace with his wide-ranging references to feudal counts, papal schisms, and architectural styles. While the text is not overly academic, its pacing is deliberate and slow, mirroring the quiet, sun-baked nature of the region itself. What stays with the reader is the sense of scale—the feeling that one is walking through a theater where the stage sets of antiquity are still standing, weathered but proud, against the mistral winds. It is a book for someone who likes to wander through history at a leisurely, thoughtful pace.