
        
          Maison des Consuls
        Although this is a secular 
          building - the oldest such in France - the carvings on it (except for 
          one) follow two standard 12th century Romanesque themes: sin and the 
          punishment of sin. 
          Redemption does not feature - since Justice does not concern itself 
          with redemption.
        
        On the 
          left of the picture are Adam and Eve (close-up view on previous 
          page), symbolising the commission of sin.
        
          
        On the 
          right of the picture above is the Emperor Justinian as law-giver, bearing 
          a staff surmounted by the Imperial Eagle and holding an inscription 
          which reads:
          IMPERATORIAM MAIESTATEM NON SOLUM ARMIS DECORATAM SED 
          ETIAM EGIBUS OPORTET ESSE ARMATAM VT VTRVMQVE - It is meet 
          that his Imperial Majesty should be empowered not just by force of arms 
          but also by the power of Justice. This inscription underlies the 
          purpose of the edifice for civil and not religious use.
        
        detail of Justinian's book, photographed 
          by Jacques Martin 
        
          
        
          However, the capitals along the façade are very similar to those 
          illustrating sins on churches.
        The 
          capital on the extreme left shows mermaids, symbols of Luxury, Vanity 
          and Self-indulgence.
          The same theme appears on the capital on the extreme right of the window, 
          
          though the two creatures in this instance are brandishing a fish,
          which may be the timeless phallic symbol or the ICHTHEUS 
          symbol of redemption - or both.
          The letters in the Greek word for fish (ichtheus) are a Greek acronym 
          for Jesus Christ,
          Son of God, Saviour, which ties in with the Fishers of Men phrase 
          in the Gospels.
        
        
          Other capitals show a sinful woman in the clutches of a monster - though 
          in the context of the Maison des Consuls it might be Justice 
          triumphing over Injustice;
        
        
          a pair of mutual beard-pullers 
          (symbol of strife);
        
         
        moustachioed 
          men being punished by eagles (symbols of divine retribution);
        
        
          and more sinful women - this time their tresses (or artifical 
          hairpieces bought from nuns and the poor) being seized in the beaks 
          of long-necked eagles (symbol of righteousness and power).
        
        
          These carvings are of 
          a high standard, especially that of Justinian (who resembles similar 
          sculptures of prophets at Moissac in the south of the same département, 
          and at Souillac (Lot). 
        If - as 
          seems very likely - the prestigious abbey, destroyed in the 16th century 
          by Protestants during the wars of religion, had carvings of similar 
          quality (and the exhibitionist corbel discussed on the previous page 
          would support this assumption), it must have been a treasure-house of 
          sculpture to match Moissac, one of the jewels of the Pilgrim 
                  Roads.
        
          
 
          
        more vestiges of the 
          old abbey >
        
        
          Another interesting Romanesque 
          fragment is close to the Maison des Consuls, at the corner of the rue 
          Valat and the rue Guilhem Peyré. A monster (representing Satan 
          or Hell) holds one end of a dead branch, while the other end is nibbled 
          by a hare (symbol of licentiousness and concupiscence).
        
        Thus the Tree 
          of Life (or the possibility of everlasting life for each of us) 
          is destroyed by the sins of the flesh.
        
          In the little (sadly-underfunded) museum 
          lodged in the Maison des Consuls on the Place de la Halle is 
          a rare Romanesque wooden panel depicting birds (representing the Holy 
          Spirit) amongst foliage (which often symbolises evil).
        
 
        
        
          Also on the Place de la 
          Halle (number 33) is a series of corbels, mostly of Romanesque inspiration, 
          if not of 12th century date, two of which (photographed by Jacques 
          Martin) are pictured below.
        


        
          The façade of No.33, place de la Halle...
        
        
          ...and a little bracket corbel of a tongue-sticking beast or demon to 
          the left of the arcade.
        
        These 
          carvings suggest that there was a wealth of Romanesque corbels on the 
          destroyed abbey of Saint-Antonin - rivalling those of Mauriac or Aulnay-de-Saintonge 
          or even Cervatos in Northern Castile - from which later sculptors drew 
          their inspiration, or which they simply copied.
        
        
          Rather later in their execution, North of the upside-down 
          exhibitionist corbel in the rue de l'Eglise, is a once-fine but now 
          very worn sandstone window of 16th century date.
        
        On the right and left-hand 
          sides, possibly taken from the Abbey like so many of Saint-Antonin's 
          fragments. are a bashed microphallic male exhibitionist reminiscent 
          of a Renaissance putto, and what seems likely to have once been 
          a squatting female exhibitionist. Compare these with a similar (but 
          earlier) pair on the island of Iona.
        


        
          At the far end of the rue de l'Eglise is this curious little carving.
        
        
        
          This figure overlooks the 
          place du Buòc.
        
          comparer with a male 
          exhibitionist gargoyle at nearby Bruniquel
         
        
        See also the superb sculptures of the 
          nearby fortified hilltop town of
          Cordes-sur-Ciel.
        
         
         
        A 
          REMNANT OF THE ORIGINAL MEROVINGIEN ABBEY ?
          click here
        
          
         
        
        More-pedestrian information on the 
          little town of Saint-Antonin...
        
         ...can be found at www.saint-antonin-noble-val.com
        
          
 
        A fauve view of Saint-Antonin from across the 
          river Aveyron in 1905
          by Montauban painter Marcel-Lenoir. 
        
         
        
        
          The author's former 
          house in Saint-Antonin is the oldest on the boulevard 
          (German: Bollwerk; English: bulwark)
          which here, as throughout France and much of Western Europe in the 19th 
          century, 
          replaced city walls and defensive embankments. 
         
        
         
        Doors 
          and doorways 
 
          of Saint-Antonin
         
         
        The most exciting thing to do at Saint-Antonin.
        
         
        
         
        click the panel to see a selection of the decorated
          
          and modified Easter Eggs of the Fourth Annual Eggfest.
         
        
         
        Eric Faure
          
 
          
          master-potter
         
        
         
        Prehistoric 
          sites near Saint-Antonin:
        Dolmens 
          de Saint-Antonin > 
        
         Roussayrolles 
          > 
        
        Saint-Cirq 
          >
        Septfonds 
          >  
        Vaour, 
          Verdier 
          (Sainte-Cécile), 
          Vieux 
          >
        Decorated 
          cave of la Magdaleine des Albis 
          >
        
          
          'Le Chemin des Neuf Pierres' suggests that a stone-row
          once stood in Saint-Antonin's Wagnerian amphitheatre,
          overlooked by some of the tombs on the 
          plateaux above.
          Alignments 
          are not unknown in Rouergue...
         
        
         
        
          go to another of my websites
         
        
        
          hunting opportunities in the area
         
        papillons 
          & 
 
          orchidees
          des Gorges de l'Aveyron
        
         
        The 
          English 'Bobs' 
        
          
             
              Saint-Antonin 
                was occupied by the English for about 40 of the Hundred Years 
                War between the (Anglo-Norman) Plantagenets and the (French) Valois 
                in the 14th century. 
                From then until the mid-19th century the English were notorious 
                in Europe for their violent, insolent and uncontrolled behaviour. 
                The Victorian period (roughly 1860 to 1960) was the exception, 
                when an excess of puritan "respectability" turned English 
                unpleasantness inward.  
                But 
                  it has turned outwards again, and in the dreadful summer 'holiday' 
                  season, even a small and charming town like Saint-Antonin can 
                  become unpleasant at night, with English 'Bobs' (as they are 
                  charmingly known) binge-drinking in the local cafés and 
                  beating up anyone who attempts to quieten them, as I bloodily 
                  and painfully discovered at the Café de la Halle, unhampered 
                  by French restriction. 
                 These 
                  Yobs (as they are more-appropriately known in English) are encouraged 
                  in the name of Tourism, 
                  that baleful tin god of Consumption...in both senses of the 
                  word... 
                In 
                  July and August, therefore, I retreat from the heat to the pleasantly 
                  cool, quiet and remote Irish countryside - and leave Saint-Antonin 
                  to the profitable invasion of the beauty-snatchers... 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  drunken English yobs once gouged FUCK in wet concrete, where 
                  the word still surprises the unwary. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  it is best for inhabitants to be deaf but agile, because the 
                  internal combustion engine is king and the old streets (all 
                  without sidewalks) difficult to walk in; where an insane municipality 
                  is ever buying new noisy machinery to do stupid things such 
                  as blowing leaves off grass. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  potholes in the uneven streets are filled with nothing more 
                  substantial than tarry grit, where gutters pour out water from 
                  on high without mending or complaint. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  a car can be parked for a week on a pedestrian crossing, and 
                  another for two weeks on a footpath - without an eyebrow raised. 
                Saint-Antonin...one 
                  of the few towns in the whole region without a single speed-bump 
                  on its very dangerous 'périphérique' - which in 
                  parts has a footpath less than 60 cms wide; where cars and mopeds 
                  zoom along ancient streets with impunity. Few cats, however, 
                  are killed. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  police lie in wait - not for speeders, but for those who have 
                  not (or not yet) attached their seat-belts (spot fine: 90 euros). 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  even in the mediæval centre the noise levels can be intolerable 
                  because of a noisy café at night, or kids roller-blading, 
                  playing football - or even riding mopeds - by day in the covered 
                  market. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  garish plantings are made for summer tourists, but nothing, 
                  apart from vulgar Christmas decorations, for the local inhabitants 
                  in winter - not even pansies. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  you are now not be allowed (by authorities who evidently have 
                  never left the Hexagon of France) to paint your house or even 
                  your shutters an interesting colour. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  I was not permitted to change a Velux in my canal-tiled roof 
                  to an attractive dormer, even though Veluxes are now banned 
                  in this conservation area. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  an attractive, rare old chemist's frontage was trashed, despite 
                  being in a conservation area...where a beautiful old hotel by 
                  the water's edge was stripped of its lovely and famous old pink 
                  wash and made drab grey, while a modern plastic entrance replaced 
                  the original entrance to the attractive old lobby, now 'remodelled'. 
                Saint-Antonin...whose 
                  grotesque 
  19th century belfry on an otherwise well-proportioned 
                  Maison des Consuls, is restored by the State (who paid 
                  for its tasteless and expensive erection) instead of being removed. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  small businesses are desperately needed and are even encouraged 
                  - but commercial rents are far too high. 
                Saint-Antonin...now 
                  a fashionable place to have a second home, where t cement-mixers, 
                  mini-dozers and all sorts of noisy machinery make a constant 
                  clatter throughout the year as they renovate long-derelict properties 
                  - except in the tourist months of July and August, when they 
                  are banned. And so the wiser and/or richer second-homers buy 
                  old farms to renovate in the hinterland, or villas closer to 
                  town. 
                Saint-Antonin...which, 
                  like most of defensively solipsistic France, lacks any kind 
                  of decent communal spirit, yet where many locals swap gossip 
                  on Facebook. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  half the dogs are free and characterful, and the other half 
                  are kept as crypto-fascists' depressed fashion-accessories on 
                  short leads or chains. I once saw a dog on TWO leads, one held 
                  by a small child, but it was a French visitor, not a local. 
                Saint-Antonin...most 
                  of whose inhabitants meet your eye (to the terror of the English) 
                  and greet you every time you pass them. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  one of the first carburettors was invented, and one of the earliest 
                  female photographers worked without too much contumely. 
                Saint-Antonin...where 
                  beside the communal dumpsters many useful things are placed 
                  and can be retrieved: clothing, 'white goods', kitchen equipment, 
                  food, bedding, furniture, plants... 
                Saint-Antonin...which, 
                  despite all the above, and perhaps because of its dissident 
                  history until the end of the Wars of Religion, attracts quiet 
                  'eccentrics', semi-hermits and reclusive artists. 
                  
               
             | 
          
        
         
        From the Bulletin d'Informations Municipales de Saint-Antonin,
          January 2007
          the first and last verses of a satirical poem in Occitan doggerel, dating 
          from the end of the 19th century,
        LA VILA DE SENT-ANTONIN
        
           
            |  
               La vila de Sent-Antonin 
                Renomada per son vin 
                A sos quartiers e sas carrièras 
                Coma n'i a pas otres sus tèrra.... 
              ...E pel jardin qualqu'un disiá 
                Qu'i volián far un casino 
                E, qu'a la plaça dels cagaires 
                I volián metre les aigaires. 
             | 
             
               
                Saint-Antonin, that worthy town, 
                  Produces wine of high renown, 
                  And has streets and neighbourhoods 
                  Like no others in the world... 
                ...In our fine Spa's pleasure garden 
                  They want to build a new casino. 
                  So where the locals have a shite 
                  The sick will gamble through the night. 
               
             | 
          
        
        The plan for a casino was dropped. The elegant little 
          Spa, built in the garden 
          of the ancient monastery,
          did not survive the closure of the railway, and is rarely used for local 
          events. 
          The wine must have been pretty bad to have been superseded by Algerian 
          vin ordinaire...
         
        
          
 
        
        
          
          
         
        see the sights 
          of nearby
          