The most impressive view of Eze is obtained from the road that leads from La Turbie to Cap d’Ail, at about the time of the setting of the sun. It is then seen from afar as a tiny town on a crag among a tumbled mass of mountains which lie deep in shade. It is the only sign of human habitation in the waste. The sun shines full upon it.
Against the dark background of pines it appears as a brilliant object in silver grey. Its houses, its church and its castle are as clean cut as a many-pointed10 piece of plate lying upon folds of dark green velvet11. No visible road leads to it. It looks unreal, like a town in an allegory, such a town as Christian12 saw in the Pilgrim’s Progress, such a little city as is graved upon the background of an old print by Albert Dürer.
Eze is approached only from the north, from the side towards the Corniche Road. Viewed from this nearer point it suggests a small Mont St. Michel rising out of the land instead of the sea. The town seems a part of the rock. It is not at once apparent where the rock ends and the dwellings13 begin, for they are all of the same tint14 and substance. It is easy, from the highroad, to pass the town by without perceiving it, for its “protective colouring” is so perfect and its camouflage15 so apt that it may be taken for the notched16 summit of the rock itself.
A closer inspection17 shows walls dotted with dark apertures18. These are windows; but they suggest the black nest-holes that sand-martins make on the face of a cliff. There are faint touches of colour too, a heap of rust-tinted roofs, a grey church tower, a splash of red to mark the nave19, the brown ruin of a castle like a broken and jagged pot, a tiny ledge20 of green with a line of white stones to mark the burying place.
A zigzag21 path mounts up to an arched gateway22 in the face of the wall. It is the only entrance into Eze. This portal will admit a laden23 mule24 or a hand-cart but not a carriage; for no “vehicle” can find admittance into this exclusive town. A curve of smoke alone shows that it is inhabited. In the distance is the blue Mediterranean25 lying in the sun.
Before entering Eze it is well to remember that it is an ancient place in the last stages of decrepitude26 and decay and that it has had a terrible history and centuries of sorrow. It is poor, half empty and partly ruinous. Those who expect to find a medi?val fortress27 will be disappointed since its houses differ but little from such as exist in many an old neighbouring town; while those who are unaware28 of its past may adopt the expression of a tourist I met, leaving the rock, who informed his friend—as a piece of considered criticism—that Eze was “a rotten hole.” Such a man would, no doubt, describe Jerusalem also as “a rotten hole.”
The gate of Eze—the Moor’s Gate as it is still called—is supported by a double tower with evil-looking loop-holes. It is very old and very worn. Its machicolations are covered with ferns which make its harsh front almost tender. Within this entry is another gate and a second tower upon which is a commonplace house reached by a flight of steps. Here we stand in an ancient feudal29 fortress. Here is the station of the guard and here has taken place such hand-to-hand fighting and such slaughter30 of men as should make the walls shudder31 to all eternity32. It was here that the stand was made by the faithful garrison33 when the last siege of Eze took place, the siege led by Barbarossa in 1543. It was at this very gate that the traitor34 Gaspard de Ca?s parleyed with the governor.
Within the second gate is a platform for the inner guard, from the ramparts of which one can look down into the chasm35 from which Eze arises and judge of the formidable position of the place.
The streets of Eze are medi?val in arrangement being mere36 alleys1—each as narrow as a trench—between the houses. They are paved with cobble stones at the sides and with red bricks in the centre and are lit—such is the anomaly—by electric light. These lanes wander about in an uneasy and disconsolate37 way. They sometimes mount upwards38; they sometimes glide39 down as if undecided. They dip under houses through black, vaulted40 ways: they lead to stone stairs that disappear round a corner: they turn warily41 to the right and then to the left, as if someone followed.
There comes upon the visitor the sense of being lost, of wandering in a nightmare town, of being entrapped42 in a maze43, of never being able to get out again. They are dreadful streets for an ambush44 and there is many a corner where an assassin in a cloak must assuredly have waited for the unsuspecting step. They are full of ghosts, of reeling, bellowing45 men rolling down the steep arm in arm, of half-awakened soldiers, buckling46 on their arms and hurrying to the clamour at the gate, of clinging, terror-stricken women and of the stalwart prince with his solemn guard.
As to the place itself it is a town, tumbled and deranged47, made up of rocks and ruins and of melancholy48 houses of great age. It is a sorrowful town, for Eze is oppressed by the burden of a doleful past and bears on every side traces of its woes49 and evidences of its manifold disasters. It is a town, it would seem, that can never forget. It is a silent town and desolate50. On the occasion of a certain visit the only occupant I came upon was a half-demented beggar who gibbered in an unknown tongue, while the only sound that fell upon the ear was that of a crowing cock. Many of the houses are shuttered close, many are roofless and not a few are without doors. It recalls at every turn the words of Dante of “the steep stairs and the bitter bread.”
EZE: ON THE WAY TO THE CASTLE.
It is a colourless town for there is nothing to break the ever abiding52 tint of oyster-shell grey. There are two trees in Eze and, in a back yard, a vine. With these exceptions there is hardly a green leaf within its confines. The only thing that grows in Eze is a monstrous53 and deformed54 cactus55, a bloated and horrible thing covered with prickles. A botanical ogre rather than a plant it seems to be a survival from an extinct age and to belong to a world over whose plains saurians and other obscene reptiles56 crawled. This senile and unlovely shrub57 would appear to be appropriate in some way to the poor, sad town that cannot forget.
There is by the way no water in Eze except such rain-water as is collected in tanks by the provident58. To obtain water it is necessary to leave the town and journey to the bottom of the path. There, on the road where the carriage of the tourist draws up, is the fountain.
Eze too is a place suggestive of craft and secret doings, a town which might have been planned by a man with a guilty conscience, for it is a veritable rabbit warren in which to burrow59 or to hide while its shuffling60 lanes, which dodge61 so cunningly, would seem to have been devised to favour the panting culprit with justice at his heels.
Rock crops up everywhere. Certain buildings would seem to be compounded of the native rock below and of worked stones above. Caverns62 are cut out of the cliff as well as curious paths, although some of these now lead nowhere.
There are no two buildings alike. Many may be only a hundred years old, but, in any case, they are incongruous dwellings with windows at odd levels and with doors in unexpected places. There are, on the other hand, buildings which show evidence of greater age and of much distinction. There are towers which have been converted into common habitations and relics63 of mansions64 of no little pretence65. On a few of these the corbels are still to be seen which once supported the balconies from which fair ladies scattered66 flowers upon victorious67 troops tramping up to the castle. There are many fine doorways68 in stone. Some show traces of the Moorish69 taste, others belong to the thirteenth century, while a few display the pointed arch of later years. There are some beautiful stone windows and many stoutly70 worked doors of wood and other odd details which recall a less squalid past. The lounger in the streets of Eze will meet with crypt-like and cavernous stables for goats, cellars open to the sky owing to collapse71 of the roof, and chilly72 tunnels without apparent purpose. One or two passages are wide and vaulted and provided with a long stone bench against the wall. Here, in the shadow, soldiers will have sat to clean their arms and old men to gossip.
The public buildings are, of course, few. The Mairie is rather pretentiously73 humble74 and is the least authoritative75 building I have ever seen. The post office clings precariously76 to the side of a steep lane, the Rue77 du Brek, and looks out upon a wall of rock covered with cactus. It seems incongruous that from this half-unconscious place it is possible both to telegraph and telephone. There is a dejected café but it is closed.
The church is of little interest. It was enlarged and restored—that is to say spoiled—in 1765. It contains, besides a font of the sixteenth century and an old cross, a painting ascribed to the seventeenth century in the left lower corner of which is a picture of Eze as it was. The castle in the picture is intact, is solid, square and arrogant78 looking. It quite overwhelms the jumbled-up little brown-red town at its foot. From the top of the tower floats a red flag with a white cross on it.
The castle is on the highest point of the town and is reached by a path fashioned out of the rock. This is a path with indeed a story to tell, if only it could utter it; if it could but speak of the footsteps it has listened to—the halting feet of men led up to be judged, the trembling feet of men led down to be hanged, the heavy tread of the well-laden robber, the nervous step of the spy, the rustle79 of the foot of the damosel. Of this castle of the Lords of Eze nothing remains but a wall and a fragment of a vaulted chamber80. In the castle yard is a wretched, shamefaced hut on which is painted “Bar des Touristes.” It is happily derelict and a victim to the general coma81 which has spread over Eze, for it is as out of place as a roulette table in a nunnery.
High up on the side of a house on the south of the town is a little old window. It has a rounded arch of weathered stone and is probably the oldest window in Eze, for it follows the mode that we in England call “Norman.” It looks across the sea while on the sill is a bunch of scarlet82 geranium in a broken jar. I like to think that this is the window of Blacas, the troubadour, that he lived in this house on the cliff and that from this casement83 he poured forth84 his songs of love and of gallant85 deeds.
A love song—as I have said—would seem strange in Eze in its old ruffian days. It may seem as strange even now. But love is eternal and so long as men and women walk the alleys of this ancient town it will linger within its walls. All the fiercer passions of Eze have died away—the lust86 for power, the thirst for revenge, the mad fever for the fray—but love, it would seem, still remains as, possibly, its only heritage; for I came upon a document in the Mairie that announced the coming marriage of two young people in Eze. It was not a troubadour’s sonnet87, it is true; but it served to show that the old lanes near by may still be paths for lovers, that there are still steep places where he may help her down and still a parapet where the two may lean, gaze over the sea and dream.
One walks down the path from the town as one would leave a chamber of death; for Eze is slowly dying, dying like a doddering old man—once the captain of a host—who is breathing his last in a garret, with around him pathetic relics of his virile88 past and piteous evidences of his present poverty.
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1
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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titanic
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| adj.巨人的，庞大的，强大的 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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13
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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14
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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15
camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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16
notched
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| a.有凹口的，有缺口的 | |
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17
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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apertures
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| n.孔( aperture的名词复数 )；隙缝；（照相机的）光圈；孔径 | |
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nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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26
decrepitude
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| n.衰老；破旧 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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28
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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feudal
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| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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32
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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35
chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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36
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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40
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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41
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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42
entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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45
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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46
buckling
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| 扣住 | |
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47
deranged
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| adj.疯狂的 | |
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48
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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49
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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50
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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51
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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52
abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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53
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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54
deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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55
cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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56
reptiles
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| n.爬行动物，爬虫( reptile的名词复数 ) | |
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57
shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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58
provident
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| adj.为将来做准备的，有先见之明的 | |
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59
burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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60
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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61
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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66
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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71
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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pretentiously
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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precariously
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| adv.不安全地；危险地；碰机会地；不稳定地 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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coma
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| n.昏迷，昏迷状态 | |
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82
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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83
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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84
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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85
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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86
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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87
sonnet
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| n.十四行诗 | |
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88
virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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