In my second year of university, I took a course on the history of France. It spanned the period from the arrival of the Romans, led by Proconsul Julius Caesar, in Gaul in 58 BC up to the French Revolution in 1789. Unfortunately, the role of Napoleon in moulding modern France was never covered. His centralist and linguistic policies aimed to unite, if homogenize, the nation. Once a multicultural, multilingual society, France was pushed ever more towards a standard French national identity, begun when Napoleon banned education in all languages except French. Some argue, though, that the death of the multilingualism came with the introduction of television to rural France in the 1960s. The light at the end of the tunnel is that there are cultural groups fighting to bring back nearly extinct languages. On a recent trip to Toulouse, the announcements in the metro were first in French, then in the Occitan language. Diversity in France is far more complex than we realize at first glance.
The Romans did have an incredible impact on Gaul, long before Napoleon thought to change the face of France forever. The Gallic Wars, led by Caesar, brought the Gallic tribes, led by Vercingetorix (does the name remind you of a diminutive cartoon character?), face to face with the formidable Roman army. Had the Gallic tribes been united, would they have been able to push the Romans back? Perhaps, but what actually happened was that the Romans laid siege to the oppidum (hill fort) of Gergovia. As resources disappeared for the Gallic people, Vercingetorix was forced to surrender. He was later executed in Rome.
Despite the destruction and devastation caused by the Roman invasion and subsequent empire, it’s almost impossible not to find ourselves completely in awe of the technological and architectural advances of the Romans. Two thousand-year-old buildings are still used today. We remember the Romans well because they left both a physical and an intangible linguistic legacy that for many Europeans is an everyday presence. Though it resulted in the loss of indigenous languages and cultures, not to mention millions of lives all over Europe, North Africa, and Western Asia, we still view the Romans as spreading modernity and civilization. If we were not so removed from this past, so embedded in the remnants of Latin culture, would we still glorify the Romans and all they left behind? All Hail, Caesar?
Nîmes: A City not Even on my Map
After I finished my MA, I spent three months in Europe and then three months in Arizona before starting my first job as a professional archaeologist. It wasn’t all vacation time, as I attended two academic conferences, volunteered for a month in the recovery and identification of victims of the Spanish Civil War, and during my last month in Europe, decided to live in France to work on the language skills that had been slowly diminishing since I had finished my first BA with a minor in French. The rule is, if you don’t use it you lose it, and it is very accurate when it comes to languages. I decided to make my temporary home in Montpellier, in the southern Occitanie region, only 10 km from the Mediterranean Sea. Montpellier is a city of under 300,000 inhabitants, with quaint stone buildings featuring the ubiquitous light blue wooden shutters. I can’t remember now why I chose Montpellier, and even though it is a beautiful city, I ended up falling for another even smaller city nearby. I discovered Nîmes on one of my many day excursions originating in Montpellier.
Nîmes wasn’t even on my map when I moved to Montpellier. Through research about the best day trips, I learned that this city had an outstanding collection of Roman architecture, some in such an excellent state of preservation that it is still used today. Located between Montpellier and the famed city of Avignon, Nîmes was a mere 35 minutes by train from my base. Unlike my day in Avignon when I nearly froze to death, I arrived in Nîmes on a beautiful, sunny, late-November day to follow in the footsteps of the Romans.
Better than the Colosseum?
Exiting the train station in Nîmes, I hardly needed a map to get started sightseeing. I was welcomed by a long, pedestrian boulevard, tree-lined with ornate fountains, buildings, and monuments all around. The boulevard culminated in the most important and remarkable architectural remnant from the Romans, the arena. I wouldn’t dare say it was more spectacular than the Colosseum, since when in Rome, I didn’t have time to go inside the most famous amphitheatre. However, the Nîmes Arena impresses nonetheless. In fact, not only is it one of the 20 largest amphitheatres from the Roman period, but also one of the best preserved. However the Romans may be viewed, they knew how to make jaws drop. You feel overwhelmingly tiny in comparison to the arena that once held 24,000 spectators, ready for their regular dose of bloody entertainment . Sadly, blood sport is still an attraction, as bullfighting continues to take centre stage in the arena.
On a late fall day (November is still fall in the south of France), the Nîmes Arena bears little resemblance to the hub of activity it once was. The enormous amphitheatre, built about 70 AD, had about a half dozen people wandering through its ancient arcades: a few high school students, for whom I prayed to whatever Gods were listening, that they would not fall off the top ledge (see photo below), an older man who spent a long time on his cell phone while looking out over the city (one of my favourite pictures, see above), and myself. The silence inside the vast arena gave it an extra eerie feel. How many people and animals were massacred in this place as entertainment for the masses? I doubt anybody has an answer for that, but we see the Roman leaders adopted an effective strategy: panem et circenses (bread and circuses). Even today, those who are fed and entertained are generally happy with the status quo.
Despite my mixed feelings about the Romans, the Nîmes Arena is an incredible place to reflect on the past, to feel a physical connection to history, the good and the bad of it.
As if the Arena Weren't Enough
Past the arena, I navigated the streets of Nîmes, very typical of French cities. In the colder months, you find roasted chestnuts for sale on every corner. I can’t say I like roasted chestnuts, or that the faint burning smell coming from the vendors’ stands smells particularly appetizing, but I do love the adorable carts created for hawking goods to the passersby.
If you thought the Roman architectural legacy was limited to the phenomenal arena, you would be mistaken. There’s more. Not far away you, will find the Maison Carrée, the Square House. I hate to tell you, though, it is not a house, at least for people, and it isn’t square; it is actually a rectangle. Some people struggle with geometry, I suppose. What is the Square House? It was once a Roman temple, and it happens to be the best preserved temple to survive in the Roman Empire (do I sound like a broken record?). This particular temple has served as the architectural inspiration for many neoclassical buildings. Completed in the year 2 AD, the temple would have held a prominent place in the forum. While I was there, locals were wrapping what can only be described as a giant afghan scarf around the temple. Apparently, I was not the only one to find it chilly that November.
More Roman Stuff to Come!
I wandered through the city, stopping to photograph the picturesque canals and fall foliage. Everything was so quiet, so peaceful that day. The traffic was a mere hum in the background, the other pedestrians tranquil. Perhaps they were enjoying the city as much as I was, a brief reprieve from the still raw memories of the tragedy in Paris, the November 2015 attacks.
In Nîmes, there is a wonderful, expansive park called Jardins de la Fontaine, Gardens of the Fountain. As you enter the park, you find older men playing pétanque, a very French bowling game. There’s a certain charm in being a witness to these local activities, but it can be unnerving to realize suddenly that you are the only woman within a certain radius, and a foreigner at that. The park itself dates to the 18th century, but there’s a great deal more history to explore here. This park also made the list of Remarkable Gardens in France, created by the Ministry of Culture. The centrepiece is a classical fountain, created around Nîmes’ original spring water source.
I promised more from the Romans, and I’m just getting to that. The park was created around several Roman ruins that, although not preserved as well as the arena and temple, still offer a glimpse into daily life. The Temple of Diana is a building with no archaeological evidence for its having been used as a temple or dedicated to Diana (the names here are questionable). It dates to the 1st century AD, and may have been a library at the time of the Romans. During the medieval period, it was used as a monastery. Today, French teenagers hang out here, smoking, just out of view for all but a few curious tourists interested the city’s Roman heritage.
One of the unique features of the park is that it is built on an the incline of a hill. There are various sets of stairs and paths leading up to appealing views over the city.
At the top of the hill, there is a small Roman surprise. Well, it would be a surprise if you had not done your research about the city before arriving. The Tour Magne (Magnus Tower) was a watchtower that formed part of the city walls. It was built on a pre-Roman structure at the time of Augustus (reigning from 27 BC to 14 AD), the first Roman emperor. The original Gallic structure would have been about 18m high, but the Romans, wanting to show their power and dominance, increased the height to 36m. The Magnus Tower was well-known even after the fall of the Roman Empire, and referred to in several poems, including Victor Hugo’s Guitare.
Nîmes: Worth a Visit
November days are short, and though ideal for avoiding the crowds of tourists, daylight hours are limited. The sun began to set while I was still exploring the Jardins de la Fontaine. After traipsing around the city, I was tired. I was disappointed to leave my newly discovered city of Roman marvels, but it was time to return to Montpellier. As I walked back towards the train station, I stopped to have a closer look at the canals. I was surprised to see them teeming with life, hundreds of goldfish swimming among the fallen leaves of autumn. I couldn’t say whether this was the result of careless fish owners, or if the municipality was responsible for the aquatic life here, but I can say it brought a smile to my face. How pretty to see the vivid fish darting about, this way and that.
I passed the arena once more, admiring the juxtaposition of ancient and modern. The Ferris wheel and Christmas food vendors next to the amphiteatre gave me a sense of what it might have been like before a big event during the Roman period. A hub of activity then and now. In Nîmes, the transition from old to new is not awkward and jolting as it can be in many cities. The flow is smooth and simple, without any rough edges to irritate your senses. In this small, overlooked city, there is a great deal to experience and see, not just the Roman legacy. However, even though Roman imperialism wiped so much from our protohistoric landscape, nobody can deny the powerful mark it left behind.
