travels with a donkey in the cevennes-第12章

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by　a　dull　race；　without　wood；　without　much　grandeur　of　hill…form；　

and　famous　in　the　past　for　little　beside　wolves。　　But　in　front　of　

me；　half　veiled　in　sunny　haze；　lay　a　new　Gevaudan；　rich；　

picturesque；　illustrious　for　stirring　events。　　Speaking　largely；　I　

was　in　the　Cevennes　at　Monastier；　and　during　all　my　journey；　but　

there　is　a　strict　and　local　sense　in　which　only　this　confused　and　

shaggy　country　at　my　feet　has　any　title　to　the　name；　and　in　this　

sense　the　peasantry　employ　the　word。　　These　are　the　Cevennes　with　

an　emphasis：　　the　Cevennes　of　the　Cevennes。　　In　that　undecipherable　

labyrinth　of　hills；　a　war　of　bandits；　a　war　of　wild　beasts；　raged　

for　two　years　between　the　Grand　Monarch　with　all　his　troops　and　

marshals　on　the　one　hand；　and　a　few　thousand　Protestant　

mountaineers　upon　the　other。　　A　hundred　and　eighty　years　ago；　the　

Camisards　held　a　station　even　on　the　Lozere；　where　I　stood；　they　

had　an　organisation；　arsenals；　a　military　and　religious　hierarchy；　

their　affairs　were　'the　discourse　of　every　coffee…house'　in　London；　

England　sent　fleets　in　their　support；　their　leaders　prophesied　and　

murdered；　with　colours　and　drums；　and　the　singing　of　old　French　

psalms；　their　bands　sometimes　affronted　daylight；　marched　before　

walled　cities；　and　dispersed　the　generals　of　the　king；　and　

sometimes　at　night；　or　in　masquerade；　possessed　themselves　of　

strong　castles；　and　avenged　treachery　upon　their　allies　and　cruelty　

upon　their　foes。　　There；　a　hundred　and　eighty　years　ago；　was　the　

chivalrous　Roland；　'Count　and　Lord　Roland；　generalissimo　of　the　

Protestants　in　France；'　grave；　silent；　imperious；　pock…marked　ex…

dragoon；　whom　a　lady　followed　in　his　wanderings　out　of　love。　　There　

was　Cavalier；　a　baker's　apprentice　with　a　genius　for　war；　elected　

brigadier　of　Camisards　at　seventeen；　to　die　at　fifty…five　the　

English　governor　of　Jersey。　　There　again　was　Castanet；　a　partisan　

leader　in　a　voluminous　peruke　and　with　a　taste　for　controversial　

divinity。　　Strange　generals；　who　moved　apart　to　take　counsel　with　

the　God　of　Hosts；　and　fled　or　offered　battle；　set　sentinels　or　

slept　in　an　unguarded　camp；　as　the　Spirit　whispered　to　their　

hearts！　　And　there；　to　follow　these　and　other　leaders；　was　the　rank　

and　file　of　prophets　and　disciples；　bold；　patient；　indefatigable；　

hardy　to　run　upon　the　mountains；　cheering　their　rough　life　with　

psalms；　eager　to　fight；　eager　to　pray；　listening　devoutly　to　the　

oracles　of　brain…sick　children；　and　mystically　putting　a　grain　of　

wheat　among　the　pewter　balls　with　which　they　charged　their　muskets。



I　had　travelled　hitherto　through　a　dull　district；　and　in　the　track　

of　nothing　more　notable　than　the　child…eating　beast　of　Gevaudan；　

the　Napoleon　Bonaparte　of　wolves。　　But　now　I　was　to　go　down　into　

the　scene　of　a　romantic　chapter　…　or；　better；　a　romantic　footnote　

in　the　history　of　the　world。　　What　was　left　of　all　this　bygone　dust　

and　heroism？　　I　was　told　that　Protestantism　still　survived　in　this　

head　seat　of　Protestant　resistance；　so　much　the　priest　himself　had　

told　me　in　the　monastery　parlour。　　But　I　had　yet　to　learn　if　it　

were　a　bare　survival；　or　a　lively　and　generous　tradition。　　Again；　

if　in　the　northern　Cevennes　the　people　are　narrow　in　religious　

judgments；　and　more　filled　with　zeal　than　charity；　what　was　I　to　

look　for　in　this　land　of　persecution　and　reprisal　…　in　a　land　where　

the　tyranny　of　the　Church　produced　the　Camisard　rebellion；　and　the　

terror　of　the　Camisards　threw　the　Catholic　peasantry　into　legalised　

revolt　upon　the　other　side；　so　that　Camisard　and　Florentin　skulked　

for　each　other's　lives　among　the　mountains？



Just　on　the　brow　of　the　hill；　where　I　paused　to　look　before　me；　the　

series　of　stone　pillars　came　abruptly　to　an　end；　and　only　a　little　

below；　a　sort　of　track　appeared　and　began　to　go　down　a　break…neck　

slope；　turning　like　a　corkscrew　as　it　went。　　It　led　into　a　valley　

between　falling　hills；　stubbly　with　rocks　like　a　reaped　field　of　

corn；　and　floored　farther　down　with　green　meadows。　　I　followed　the　

track　with　precipitation；　the　steepness　of　the　slope；　the　continual　

agile　turning　of　the　line　of　the　descent；　and　the　old　unwearied　

hope　of　finding　something　new　in　a　new　country；　all　conspired　to　

lend　me　wings。　　Yet　a　little　lower　and　a　stream　began；　collecting　

itself　together　out　of　many　fountains；　and　soon　making　a　glad　noise　

among　the　hills。　　Sometimes　it　would　cross　the　track　in　a　bit　of　

waterfall；　with　a　pool；　in　which　Modestine　refreshed　her　feet。



The　whole　descent　is　like　a　dream　to　me；　so　rapidly　was　it　

accomplished。　　I　had　scarcely　left　the　summit　ere　the　valley　had　

closed　round　my　path；　and　the　sun　beat　upon　me；　walking　in　a　

stagnant　lowland　atmosphere。　　The　track　became　a　road；　and　went　up　

and　down　in　easy　undulations。　　I　passed　cabin　after　cabin；　but　all　

seemed　deserted；　and　I　saw　not　a　human　creature；　nor　heard　any　

sound　except　that　of　the　stream。　　I　was；　however；　in　a　different　

country　from　the　day　before。　　The　stony　skeleton　of　the　world　was　

here　vigorously　displayed　to　sun　and　air。　　The　slopes　were　steep　

and　changeful。　　Oak…trees　clung　along　the　hills；　well　grown；　

wealthy　in　leaf；　and　touched　by　the　autumn　with　strong　and　luminous　

colours。　　Here　and　there　another　stream　would　fall　in　from　the　

right　or　the　left；　down　a　gorge　of　snow…white　and　tumultuary　

boulders。　　The　river　in　the　bottom　（for　it　was　rapidly　growing　a　

river；　collecting　on　all　hands　as　it　trotted　on　its　way）　here　

foamed　a　while　in　desperate　rapids；　and　there　lay　in　pools　of　the　

most　enchanting　sea…green　shot　with　watery　browns。　　As　far　as　I　

have　gone；　I　have　never　seen　a　river　of　so　changeful　and　delicate　a　

hue；　crystal　was　not　more　clear；　the　meadows　were　not　by　half　so　

green；　and　at　every　pool　I　saw　I　felt　a　thrill　of　longing　to　be　out　

of　these　hot；　dusty；　and　material　garments；　and　bathe　my　naked　body　

in　the　mountain　air　and　water。　　All　the　time　as　I　went　on　I　never　

forgot　it　was　the　Sabbath；　the　stillness　was　a　perpetual　reminder；　

and　I　heard　in　spirit　the　church…bells　clamouring　all　over　Europe；　

and　the　psalms　of　a　thousand　churches。



At　length　a　human　sound　struck　upon　my　ear　…　a　cry　strangely　

modulated　between　pathos　and　derision；　and　looking　across　the　

valley；　I　saw　a　little　urchin　sitting　in　a　meadow；　with　his　hands　

about　his　knees；　and　dwarfed　to　almost　comical　smallness　by　the　

distance。　　But　the　rogue　had　picked　me　out　as　I　went　down　the　road；　

from　oak　wood　on　to　oak　wood；　driving　Modestine；　and　he　made　me　the　

compliments　of　the　new　country　in　this　tremulous　high…pitched　

salutation。　　And　as　all　noises　are　lovely　and　natural　at　a　

sufficient　distance；　this　also；　coming　through　so　much　clean　hill　

air　and　crossing　all　the　green　valley；　sounded　pleasant　to　my　ear；　

and　seemed　a　thing　rustic；　like　the　oaks　or　the　river。



A　little　after；　the　stream　that　I　was　following　fell　into　the　Tarn　

at　Pont　de　Montvert　of　bloody　memory。







PONT　DE　MONTVERT







ONE　of　the　first　things　I　encountered　in　Pont　de　Montvert　was；　if　I　

remember　rightly；　the　Protestant　temple；　but　this　was　but　the　type　

of　other　novelties。　　A　subtle　atmosphere　distinguishes　a　town　in　

England　from　a　town　in　France；　or　even　in　Scotland。　　At　Carlisle　

you　can　see　you　are　in　the　one　country；　at　Dumfries；　thirty　miles　

away；　you　are　as　sure　that　you　are　in　the　other。　　I　should　find　it　

difficult　to　tell　in　what　particulars　Pont　de　Montvert　differed　

from　Monastier　or　Langogne；　or　even　Bleymard；　but　the　difference　

existed；　and　spoke　eloquently　to　the　eyes。　　The　place；　with　its　

houses；　its　lanes；　its　glaring　river…bed；　wore　an　indescribable　air　

of　the　South。



All　was　Sunday　bustle　in　the　streets　and　in　the　public…house；　as　

all　had　been　Sabbath　peace　among　the　mountains。　　There　must　have　

been　near　a　score　of　us　at　dinner　by　eleven　before　noon；　and　after　

I　had　eaten　and　drunken；　and　sat　writing　up　my　journal；　I　suppose　

as　many　more　came　dropping　in　one　after　another；　or　by　twos　and　

threes。　　In　crossing　the　Lozere　I　had　not　only　come　among　new　

natural　features；　but　moved　into　the　territory　of　a　different　race。　　

These　people；　as　they　hurriedly　despatched　their　viands　in　an　

intricate　sword…play　of　knives；　questioned　and　answered　me　with　a　

degree　of　intelligence　which　excelled　all　that　I　had　met；　except　

among　the　railway　folk　at　Chasserades。　　They　had　open　telling　

faces；　and　were　lively　both　in　speech　and　manner。　　They　not　only　

entered　thoroughly　into　the　spirit　of　my　little　trip；　but　more　than　

one　declared；　if　he　were　rich　enough；　he　would　like　to　set　forth　on　

such　another。



Even　physically　there　was　a　pleasant　change。　　I　had　not　seen　a　

pretty　woman　since　I　left　Monastier；　and　there　but　one。　　Now　of　the　

three　who　sat　down　with　me　to　dinner；　one　was　certainly　not　

beautiful　…　a　poor　timid　thing　of　forty；　quite　troubled　at　this　

roaring　TABLE　D'HOTE；　whom　I　squired　and　helped　to　wine；　and　

pledged　and　tried　generally　to　encourage；　with　quite　a　contrary　

effect；　but　the　other　two；　both　married；　were　both　more　handsome　

than　the　average　of　women。　　And　Clarisse？　　What　shall　I　say　of　

Clarisse？　　She　waited　the　table　with　a　heavy　placable　nonchalance；　

like　a　performing　cow；　her　great　grey　eyes　were　steeped　in　amorous　

languor；　her　features；　although　fleshy；　were　of　an　original　and　

accurate　design；　her　mouth　had　a　curl；　her　nostril　spoke　of　dainty　

pride；　her　cheek　fell　into　strange　and　interesting　lines。　　It　was　a　

face　capable　of　strong　emotion；　and；　with　training；　it　offered　the　

promise　of　delicate　sentiment。　　It　seemed　pitiful　to　see　so　good　a　

model　left　to　country　admirers　and　a　country　way　of　thought。　　

Beauty　should　at　least　have　touched　society；　then；　in　a　moment；　it　

throws　off　a　weight　that　lay　upon　it；　it　becomes　conscious　of　

itself；　it　puts　on　an　elegance；　learns　a　gait　and　a　carriage　of　the　

head；　and；　in　a　moment；　PATET　DEA。　　Before　I　left　I　assured　

Clarisse　of　my　hearty　admiration。　　She　took　it　like　milk；　without　

embarrassment　or　wonder；　merely　looking　at　me　steadily　with　her　

great　eyes；　and　I　own　the　result　upon　myself　was　some　confusion。　　

If　Clarisse　could　read　English；　I　should　not　dare　to　add　that　her　

figure　was　unworthy　of　her　face。　　Hers　was　a　case　for　stays；　but　

that　may　perhaps　grow　better　as　she　gets　up　in　years。



Pont　de　Montvert；　or　Greenhill　Bridge；　as　we　might　say　at　home；　is　

a　place　memorable　in　the　story　of　the　Camisards。　　It　was　here　that　

the　war　broke　out；　here　that　those　southern　Covenanters　slew　their　

Archbishop　Sharp。　　The　persecution　on　the　one　hand；　the　febrile　

enthusiasm　on　the　other；　are　almost　equally　difficult　to　understand　

in　these　quiet　modern　days；　and　with　our　easy　modern　beliefs　and　

disbeliefs。　　The　Protestants　were　one　and　all　beside　their　right　

minds　with　zeal　and　sorrow。　　They　were　all　prophets　and　

prophetesse