Addison, who sailed from Marseilles on December 12th, 1699 (Macaulay says the date should be 1700), and skirted the Ligurian coast to Genoa, was surprised and delighted to see “the mountains cover’d with green Olive-trees, or laid out in beautiful gardens, which gave us a great Variety of pleasing Prospects, even in the Depth of Winter. The most uncultivated of them produce abundance of sweet Plants, as Wild-Thyme, Lavender, Rosemary, Balm and Myrtle.” In his “Letter from Italy” he writes:— “See how the golden groves around me smile, That shun the coast of Britain’s stormy isle, Or when transplanted and preserv’d with care, Curse the cold clime, and starve in Northern air. Here kindly warmth their mounting juice ferments, To nobler tastes, and more exalted scents: Ev’n the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom, And trodden weeds send out a rich perfume.” CHAPTER IV AIX A city left solitary—Foundation of Aquæ Sextiæ—The Invasion of Cimbri and Teutons—Defeat of the Romans—Blunders of the barbarians—Defeat of Cœpio and Manlius—Marius sent against the barbarians—Defeat of the Ambrons—Destruction of the Teutons—Ste. Victoire—The Garagoul—King Réné: Sir Walter Scott’s character of him: his imprisonment: his failure in Naples: retires to Provence: character of his daughter, Queen Margaret—The procession at Aix—The Feast of Fools—Death of Réné: carrying off of his corpse—Destruction of the tombs at Angers—Cathedral—Museum. AIX is perhaps the most dejected of cities. At one time the life blood of the empire poured through it. The great road that left the Flaminian gate of Rome, passed along the coast of the Ligurian Gulf, crossed the shoulder of the Alps at La Turbie, and then, going through Nice and by Cannes, reached Fréjus. At that point it turned inland, left the sea behind, and made direct for Aix. Thence it stretched away to Arles, and from that city radiated the routes to Spain, throughout Gaul, and to the Rhine. Through the market passed all the trade of the West; through it tramped the legions for the conquest of Britain, and the defence of the Rhenish frontier; through it travelled the treasure for the pay of the soldiery; through it streamed the lines of captives for the slave market at Rome. But now, Aix is on no artery of communication. To reach it, one most go in a loitering and roundabout fashion by branch lines, on which run no express trains, in company with oxen in pens and trucks of coal. Marseilles has drained away the traffic that formerly ebbed and flowed through Aix, leaving it listless and lifeless. But if we desire relics and reminiscences of the past we must not omit a visit to Aix.