od Rene delighted.
Alas for the change! In those apartments in which the generous monarch
loved to indulge the effusions of his gentle muse, and where fair
ladies smiled, and belted knights quaffed ruby wine to their healths,
now dwell reckless felons and hopeless debtors; for the chateau is
converted into a prison.
In the Church of St. Martha we saw a relic of the barbarism of the dark
ages, in the shape of a grotesque representation of a dragon, called
the Tarasque. This image is formed of wood, rudely painted in gandy
colours.
Twice a-year it is borne through the streets of Tarascon, in
commemoration of the destruction of a fabulous monster that long
frequented the Rhone, and devoured many of the inhabitants of the
surrounding country, but was at length vanquished by St. Martha; who,
having secured it round the neck by her veil, delivered it to the just
vengeance of the Tarascons. This legend is received as truth by common
people, and our guide informed us that they warmly resent any _doubt_
of its authenticity.
The monument of St. Martha is shown in the church dedicated to her, and
her memory is held in great reverence at Tarascon.
The country between this place and Tarascon is fertile and well
cultivated, and the cheerfulness of its aspect presents a striking
contrast to the silence and solitude of the town. The streets, however,
are as clean as those of Holland, and the inhabitants are neat and tidy
in their attire.
The houses are for the most part old and dilapidated, looking in nearly
as ruined a condition as the fragments of antiquity which date so many
centuries before them. Nevertheless, some of the streets and dwellings
seem to indicate that a spirit of improvement is abroad.
Our hotel is a large, crazy, old mansion, reminding me of some of those
at Shrewsbury; and its furniture appears to be coeval with it, as
nothing can be more homely or misshapen. Oak and walnut-tree chairs,
beds, and tables form the chief part, and these are in a very rickety
condition; nevertheless, an air of cleanliness and comfort pervades the
rooms, and with the extreme rusticity of the _ameublement_, give one
the notion of being in some huge old farm-house.
Nor is the manner of the good hostess calculated to dispel this
illusion. When our three carriages drove to her door, though prepared
for our arrival by the courier, she repeatedly said that her poor house
had no accommodation for such guests, and we had some d
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