t of view Entrevaux looks strong
indeed. The only means of entrance, now as in those olden days, is by
one of three small drawbridges, and so narrow is every street of the
town that no wagon is allowed to cross, for if it made the passage of
the bridge it would be caught hard and fast between the houses. As the
traveller put foot on the drawbridge he felt as though he were a petty
trader or wandering minstrel, or some other figure of the Middle Ages,
entering for a few hours' traffic or a noon-day's rest, and when he
paused under the low arch of the portcullis-gate, people stared at him
as they do at a stranger in little far-off towns. Once inside, he turned
into a street, and was immediately obliged to step into a door-way, for
a man leading a horse was approaching, and they needed all its breadth.
Houses, several stories high, bordered these incredibly dark, narrow
ways, and some of the upper windows had the diminutive balconies so dear
to the South. It was a bright, hot day, but the sun seldom peeped into
these streets; and in the shops the light was dull at mid-day. As he
thought of the men and women of Mediaevalism, who did not dare to wander
in the fields beyond the town, because their safety lay within its
ramparts, suddenly, the little public squares of walled towns appeared
in all the real significance of their light and breadth and sunshine.
Space is precious in Entrevaux, and open places are few. There is one
where the hotels and cafes are found, another across the drawbridge
behind the Cathedral-tower, and a tiny one before the church itself.
This is the most curious of them all; for, far from being a "Place de la
Cathedrale," it is a true "Place d'Armes." Near the portals, on whose
wooden doors the mitre and insignia of papal favour are carved, a few
steps lead to a narrow ledge where archers could stand and shoot from
the loop-holes in the walls. As the traveller sat on this ledge and
wondered what scenes had been enacted here, how many deadly shots had
sped from out the holes, what crowds of excited townsfolk had gathered
in the church, what grave words of exhortation and of blessing had been
spoken from the altar or the threshold by anxious prelate, robed and
mitred for the Mass of Supplication to a God of Battles, an humble
funeral appeared,--a priest, a peasant bearing a black wooden Cross with
the name of the deceased painted on it, a rope-bound coffin carried by
hot and sorrowing women, and a little pr