The Argosy — page 310: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Fair of Cuers. 289 love of these old churches, and not being at all indifferent to the progress of religion there or elsewhere, I make a practice of visiting them wherever I go, and have done so, for many years past, In many different lands, from the Pro-Cathedral at Kensington to the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. Cuers is an old Provencal town, of the type common in the valleys at the mountain foot. It was once fortified, there are still vestiges of its fortifications; it had its feudal baron, there are ruins of his old castle ; it still retains its narrow streets, its ins and outs, its third- rate hotels, its commerce in olive oil, and its numerous cattle fairs. It is interesting, as are all these old towns of three or four thousand people, distant from great centres, and worth a passing visit from those who reach it or pass through it while engaged in exploring the lovely country in the midst of which it is placed. On the road home, we visited the Castle of Castille, and well did it repay us. There is nothing like it in all the Department of the Var. It has peculiar charms—a special beauty all its own—and is apparently open to all who seek its restful, cooling shades, by the kind liberal-mindedness of its proprietor. At any rate, our party wandered in and about, not only without let or hindrance, but aided by those of the servants whom we addressed, without their attempting to thrust themselves upon us unasked. Its peculiar charm lies in its abundance of rushing waters, which, in a country (this year, at least) without a single shower from May to November, amounts to a natural phenomenon. Imagine what must be the joy of its greenery, when all is parched up elsewhere ; what the memories awakened by its old-fashioned water-loving shrubs and flowers, nowhere else to be seen; what the longings of the possessor of a real living cow, at the sight of evergreen pastures ! Passing by one or two flourishing-looking farmhouses, over a bridge which spans the river Gapeau, here lying deep in a rocky gorge, the approach to the chateau runs alongside an ever-flowing broad brook up to a majestic avenue of plane trees, between which lies the great central approach. ‘To deal first with the forest trees, it will be simple, unadorned truth to say that it would be hard to find finer specimens of planes and chestnuts in any land, and that here they rather perplex and bewilder by their number. One longed to go up for five minutes in a balloon to look at the avenues from above, taking a bird’s-eye view. So far as could be ascertained from below, there are four or five starting from various points in the pleasure grounds and running round about the green meadows. At the side of the chateau is a large enclosed square, formed by steward’s, bailiff’s, coachman’s houses, stables, cowsheds, barns, &c., all in perfect repair, and disposed so as to form a compact and convenient homestead. In front of the chateau lie the far-famed pleasure gardens. The eye feasts itself upon a mass of greenery, the greenery of all lands— VOL. XXXIV. U ECOnnicloooks (GO