The Bastion du Calvaire

With the restoration of the monarchy early in the 19th century, Catholic fervour was rekindled. (I was surprised to learn that the only person guillotined for political reasons in Carcassonne was a priest, who had run away to Spain and, foolishly, come back too soon.) Soon all the religious were welcomed back, although the convents and seminaries never recovered. Before the Revolution a convent stood across the road from our apartment. Its demolition provided room for the Post Office as well as the square I’m looking out on.

The town’s mediaeval ramparts had been strengthened during the Wars of Religion at the end of the 16th century by the additions of bastions, more capable of withstanding the artillery of the day. (The other part of Carcassonne, the Cité or castle, had fired 600 cannon rounds into the Bastide during those wars because it did not approve of the liberal tendencies of the commercial part of the town.) These bastions in turn had fallen into disrepair, so in the 19th century the fortifications surrounding the Bastide were replaced by the wide boulevards of today. Some parts of the walls were left, however, including one of the city gates (Jacobins).

The bastion at the south-west corner (la Tour Grosse) had been an artillery platform, with an ancient tower in the middle of earthworks supporting the structure. In 1825 the City decided to convert this into a Calvaire, renaming it the Bastion du Calvaire. The old tower became both Gethsemane, with terracotta figures (mostly broken) on the outside, and the sepulchre on the inside. This is now full of broken statuary and the home of several feral cats.

The path leads upwards around the perimeter of the bastion, past 12 Stations of the Cross, until you emerge on Golgotha, with its three crosses, at the top of the bastion. The path down leads past the remaining two Stations of the Cross to the tomb. The trees in the parks are, of course, cedars of Lebanon, laurel and olive. Unlike on the streets of the town, there are no plane trees.

The garden needs further restoration, and I understand plans are in hand. Despite that, it is still a delightful place to walk through, or sit on one of its benches for some quiet reflection.