It is not a beautiful structure; it is not even picturesquely disposed;

it is grim and gaunt, and consists merely of a nave in the severe

Romanesque-Transition manner, surmounted by a later and non-contemporary

tower and spire.

In spite of this it looms large from every view-point in the town, and

is so lively a component of the busy life which surrounds it that it

is--in spite of its severity of outline--a very appealing church edifice

in more senses than one.

[Illustration: CATHÉDRALE _de TULLE...._]

Its tall, finely-proportioned tower and spire, which indeed is the chief

attribute of grace and symmetry, is of the fourteenth century, and,

though plain and primitive in its outlines, is far more pleasing than

the crocketed and rococo details which in a later day were composed into

something which was thought to be a spire.

In the earliest days of its history, this rather bare and cold church

was a Benedictine monastery whose primitive church dated as far back as

the seventh century. There are yet remains of a cloister which may have

belonged to the early church of this monastic house, and as such is

highly interesting, and withal pleasing.

The bishopric was founded in 1317 by Arnaud de St. Astier. The

Revolution caused much devastation here in the precincts of this

cathedral, which was first stripped of its _trésor_, and finally of its

dignity, when the see was abolished.

XI

ST. PIERRE D'ANGOULÊME

Angoulême is often first called to mind by its famous or notorious

Duchesse, whose fame is locally perpetuated by a not very suitable

column, erected in the Promenade Beaulieu in 1815. There is certainly a

wealth of romance to be conjured up from the recollection of the famous

Counts of Angoulême and their adherents, who made their residence in the

ancient château which to-day forms in part the Hôtel de Ville, and in

part the prison. Here in this château was born Marguerite de Valois, the

Marguerite of Marguerites, as François I. called her; here took welcome

shelter, Marie de Medici after her husband's assassination; and here,

too, much more of which history tells.

[Illustration: ST. PIERRE ... _a' ANGOULÊME_]

What most histories do not tell is that the cathedral of St. Pierre

d'Angoulême, with the cathedral of St. Front at Périgueux and Notre Dame

de Poitiers, ranks at the very head of that magnificent architectural

style known as Aquitanian.

St. Ansone was the first bishop of the diocese--in the third century.

The see was then, as now, a suffragan of Bordeaux. Religious wars, here

as throughout Aquitaine, were responsible for a great unrest among the

people, as well as the sacrilege and desecration of church property.

The most marked spoliation was at the hands of the Protestant Coligny,

the effects of whose sixteenth-century ravages are yet visible in the

cathedral.

A monk--Michel Grillet--was hung to a mulberry-tree,--which stood where

now is the Place du Murier (mulberry),--by Coligny, who was reviled thus

in the angry dying words of the monk: "You shall be thrown out of the

window like Jezebel, and shall be ignominiously dragged through the

streets." This prophecy did not come true, but Coligny died an

inglorious death in 1572, at the instigation of the Duc de Guise.

This cathedral ranks as one of the most curious in France, and, with its

alien plan and details, has ever been the object of the profound

admiration of all who have studied its varied aspects.

Mainly it is a twelfth-century edifice throughout, in spite of the

extensive restorations of the nineteenth century, which have eradicated

many crudities that might better have been allowed to remain. It is

ranked by the Ministère des Beaux Arts as a _Monument Historique_.

The west front, in spite of the depredations before, during, and after

the Revolution, is notable for its rising tiers of round-headed arches

seated firmly on proportionate though not gross columns, its statued

niches, the rich bas-reliefs of the tympanum of its portal, the

exquisite arabesques, of lintel, frieze, and archivolt, and, above all,

its large central arch with _Vesica piscis_, and the added decorations

of emblems of the evangels and angels. In addition to all this, which

forms a gallery of artistic details in itself, the general disposition

of parts is luxurious and remarkable.

As a whole, St. Pierre is commonly credited as possessing the finest

Lombard detail to be found in the north; some say outside of Italy.

Certainly it is prodigious in its splendour, whatever may be one's

predilections for or against the expression of its art.

The church follows in general plan the same distinctive style. Its

tower, too, is Lombard, likewise the rounded apside, and--though the

church is of the elongated Latin or cruciform ground-plan--its

possession of a great central dome (with three others above the

nave--and withal aisleless) points certainly to the great domed churches

of the Lombard plain for its ancestry.

The western dome is of the eleventh century, the others of the twelfth.

Its primitiveness has been more or less distorted by later additions,

made necessary by devastation in the sixteenth century, but it ranks

to-day, with St. Front at Périgueux, as the leading example of the style

known as Aquitanian.

Above the western portal is a great window, very tall and showing in its

glass a "Last Judgment."

A superb tower ends off the _croisillon_ on the north and rises to the

height of one hundred and ninety-seven feet. "Next to the west front and

the domed roofing of the interior, this tower ranks as the third most

curious and remarkable feature of this unusual church." This tower, in

spite of its appealing properties, is curiously enough not the original

to which the previous descriptive lines applied; but their echo may be

heard to-day with respect to the present tower, which is a

reconstruction, of the same materials, and after the same manner, so far

as possible, as the original.

As the most notable and peculiar details of the interior, will be

remarked the cupolas of the roof, and the lantern at the crossing, which

is pierced by twelve windows.

For sheer beauty, and its utile purpose as well, this great _lanthorn_

is further noted as being most unusual in either the Romanesque or

Gothic churches of France.

The choir is apse-ended and is surrounded by four chapels of no great

prominence or beauty.

The south transept has a _tour_ in embryo, which, had it been completed,

would doubtless have been the twin of that which terminates the transept

on the north.

The foundations of the episcopal residence, which is immediately beside

the cathedral (restored in the nineteenth century), are very ancient. In

its garden stands a colossal statue to Comte Jean, the father of

François I.

Angoulême was the residence of the Black Prince after the battle of

Poitiers, though no record remains as to where he may have lodged. A

house in the Rue de Genève has been singled out in the past as being

where John Calvin lived in 1533, but it is not recognizable to-day.

XII

NOTRE DAME DE MOULINS

"_Les Bourbonnais sont aimables, mais vains, légers et facilement

oublieux, avec rien d'excessif, rien d'exubérance dans leur

nature._"

--ANDRÉ ROLLAND.

Until he had travelled through Bourbonnais, "the sweetest part of

France--in the hey-day of the vintage," said Sterne, "I never felt the

distress of plenty."

This is an appropriate enough observation to have been promulgated by a

latter-day traveller. Here the abundance which apparently pours forth

for every one's benefit knows no diminution one season from another. One

should not allow his pen to ramble to too great an extent in this vein,

or he will soon say with Sterne: "Just Heaven! it will fill up twenty

volumes,--and alas, there are but a few small pages!"

[Illustration: NOTRE DAME _de MOULINS_]

It suffices, then, to reiterate, that in this plenteous land of

mid-France there is, for all classes of man and beast, an abundance and

excellence of the harvest of the soil which makes for a fondness to

linger long within the confines of this region. Thus did the far-seeing

Bourbons, who, throughout the country which yet is called of them, set

up many magnificent establishments and ensconced themselves and their

retainers among the comforts of this world to a far greater degree than

many other ruling houses of mediæval times. Perhaps none of the great

names, among the long lists of lords, dukes, and kings, whose lands

afterward came to make the solidarity of the all-embracing monarchy,

could be accused of curtailing the wealth of power and goods which

conquest or bloodshed could secure or save for them.

The power of the Bourbons endured, like the English Tudors, but a

century and a half beyond the period of its supremacy; whence, from its

maturity onward, it rotted and was outrooted bodily.

The literature of Moulins, for the English reading and speaking world,

appears to be an inconsiderable quantity. Certain romances have been

woven about the ducal château, and yet others concerning the

all-powerful Montmorencies, besides much history, which partakes

generously of the components of literary expression.

In the country round about--if the traveller has come by road, or for

that matter by "_train omnibus_"--if he will but keep his eyes open, he

will have no difficulty in recognizing this picture: "A little

farmhouse, surrounded with about twenty acres of vineyard, and about as

much corn--and close to the house, on one side, a _potagerie_ of an acre

and a half, full of everything which could make plenty in a French

peasant's house--and on the other side a little wood, which furnished

wherewithal to dress it."

To continue, could one but see into that house, the picture would in no

small degree differ from this: "A family consisting of an old,

gray-headed man and his wife, with five or six sons and sons-in-law, and

their several wives, and a joyous genealogy out of them ... all sitting

down together to their lentil soup; a large wheaten loaf in the middle

of the table; and a flagon of wine at each end of it, and promised joy

throughout the various stages of the repast."

Where in any other than this land of plenty, for the peasant and

prosperous alike, could such a picture be drawn of the plenitude which

surrounds the home life of a son of the soil and his nearest kin? Such

an equipment of comfort and joy not only makes for a continuous and

placid contentment, but for character and ambition; in spite of all that

harum-scarum Jeremiahs may proclaim out of their little knowledge and

less sympathy with other affairs than their own. No individualism is

proclaimed, but it is intimated, and the reader may apply the

observation wherever he may think it belongs.

Moulins is the capital of the Bourbonnais--the name given to the

province and the people alike. The derivation of the word Bourbon is

more legendary than historical, if one is to give any weight to the

discovery of a tablet at _Bourbonne-les-Bains,_ in 1830, which bore the

following dedication:

DEO, APOL

LINI BORVONI

ET DAMONAE

C DAMINIUS

FEROX CIVIS

LINGONUS EX

VOTO

Its later application to the land which sheltered the race is elucidated

by a French writer, thus:

"Considering that the names of all the cities and towns known as _des

sources d'eaux thermales_ commence with either the prefix _Bour_ or

_Bor_, indicates a common origin of the word ... from the name of the

divinity which protects the waters."

This is so plausible and picturesque a conjecture that it would seem to

be true.

Archæologists have singled out from among the most beautiful _chapelles

seigneuriales_ the one formerly contained in the ducal palace of the

Bourbons at Moulins. This formed, of course, a part of that gaunt,

time-worn fabric which faces the westerly end of the cathedral.

Little there is to-day to suggest this splendour, and for such one has

to look to those examples yet to be seen at Chambord or Chenonceaux, or

that of the Maison de Jacques Coeur at Bourges, with which, in its

former state, this private chapel of the Bourbons was a contemporary.

The other chief attraction of Moulins is the theatrical Mausolée de

Henri de Montmorency, a seventeenth-century work which is certainly

gorgeous and splendid in its magnificence, if not in its æsthetic value

as an art treasure.

The fresh, modern-looking cathedral of Notre Dame de Moulins is a more

ancient work than it really looks, though in its completed form it dates

only from the late nineteenth century, when the indefatigable

Viollet-le-Duc erected the fine twin towers and completed the western

front.

The whole effect of this fresh-looking edifice is of a certain elegance,

though in reality of no great luxuriousness.

The portal is deep but unornamented, and the rose window above is of

generous design, though not actually so great in size as at first

appears. Taken _tout ensemble_ this west front--of modern design and

workmanship--is far more expressive of the excellent and true

proportions of the mediæval workers than is usually the case.

The spires are lofty (312 feet) and are decidedly the most beautiful

feature of the entire design.

The choir, the more ancient portion (1465-1507), expands into a more

ample width than the nave and has a curiously squared-off termination

which would hardly be described as an apside, though the effect is

circular when viewed from within. The choir, too, rises to a greater

height than the nave, and, though there is no very great discrepancy in

style between the easterly and westerly ends, the line of demarcation is

readily placed. The square flanking chapels of the choir serve to give

an ampleness to the ambulatory which is unusual, and in the exterior

present again a most interesting arrangement and effect.

The cathedral gives on the west on the Place du Château, with the bare,

broken wall of the ducal château immediately _en face_, and the

Gendarmerie, which occupies a most interestingly picturesque Renaissance

building, is immediately to the right.

The interior arrangements of this brilliant cathedral church are quite

as pleasing and true as the exterior. There is no poverty in design or

decoration, and no overdeveloped luxuriance, except for the accidence of

the Renaissance tendencies of its time.

There is no flagrant offence committed, however, and the ambulatory of

the choir and its queer overhanging gallery at the rear of the altar are

the only unusual features from the conventional decorated Gothic plan;

if we except the _baldachino_ which covers the altar-table, and which

is actually hideous in its enormity.

The bishop's throne, curiously enough,--though the custom is, it

appears, very, very old,--is placed _behind_ the high-altar.

The triforium and clerestory of the choir have gracefully heightened

arches supported by graceful pillars, which give an effect of exceeding

lightness.

In the nave the triforium is omitted, and the clerestory only overtops

the pillars of nave and aisles.

The transepts are not of great proportions, but are not in any way

attenuated.

Under the high-altar is a "Holy Sepulchre" of the sixteenth century,

which is penetrated by an opening which gives on the ambulatory of the

choir.

There is a bountiful display of coloured glass of the Renaissance

period, and, in the sacristy, a _triptych_ attributed to Ghirlandajo.

There are no other artistic accessories of note, and the cathedral

depends, in the main, for its satisfying qualities in its general

completeness and consistency.

XIII

NOTRE DAME DE LE PUY

"Under the sun of the _Midi_ I have seen the Pyrenees and the Alps,

crowned in rose and silver, but I best love Auvergne and its bed of

gorse."

--PIERRE DE NOLHAC.

Le Puy has been called--by a discerning traveller--and rightly enough,

too, in the opinion of most persons--"_the most picturesque spot in the

world_." Whether every visitor thereto will endorse this unqualifiedly

depends somewhat on his view-point, and still more on his ability to

discriminate.

Le Puy certainly possesses an unparalleled array of what may as well be

called rare attractions. These are primarily the topographical,

architectural, and, first, last, and all times, picturesque elements

which only a blind man could fail to diagnose as something unique and

not to be seen elsewhere.

[Illustration: NOTRE DAME _de LE PUY_.]

In the first category are the extraordinary pinnacles of volcanic

rock with which the whole surrounding landscape is peopled; in the

second, the city's grand architectural monuments, cathedrals, churches,

monastery and the château of Polignac; while thirdly, the whole aspect

is irritatingly picturesque to the lover of topographical charm and

feature. Here the situation of the city itself, in a basin of

surrounding peaks, its sky-piercing, turreted rocks, and the general

effect produced by its architectural features all combine to present

emotions which a large catalogue were necessary to define.

Moreover, Le Puy is the gateway to a hitherto almost unknown region to

the English-speaking tourist. At least it would have been unknown but

for the eulogy given it by the wandering Robert Louis Stevenson, who, in

his "Travels with a Donkey," (not "On a Donkey,"--mark the distinction),

has made the Cevennes known, at least as a nodding acquaintance,

to--well, a great many who would never have consciously realized that

there was such a place.

Le Puy is furthermore as yet unspoiled by the "conducted tourist," and

lives the same life that it has for many generations. Electric trams

have come to be sure, and certain improvements in the way of boulevards

and squares have been laid out, but, in the main, the narrow, tortuous

streets which ascend to its cathedral-crowned height are much as they

always were; and the native pays little heed to the visitor, of which

class not many ever come to the city--perhaps for the reason that Le Puy

is not so very accessible by rail. Both by the line which descends the

Rhône valley and its parallel line from Paris to Nîmes, one has to

branch off, and is bound to lose from three to six hours--or more, at

some point or other, making connections. This is as it should be--in

spite of the apparent retrogression.

When one really does get to Le Puy nothing should satisfy him but to

follow the trail of Stevenson's donkey into the heart of the Cevennes,

that wonderful country which lies to the southward, and see and know for

himself some of the things which that delectable author set forth in the

record of his travels.

Monastier, Le Cheylard, La Bastide, Notre Dame des Neiges, Mont Mézenac,

and many more delightful places are, so far as personal knowledge goes,

a sealed book to most folk; and after one has visited them for himself,

he may rest assured they will still remain a sealed book to the mass.

The ecclesiastical treasures of Le Puy are first and foremost centred

around its wonderful, though bizarre, Romanesque cathedral of Notre

Dame.

Some have said that this cathedral church dates from the fifth century.

Possibly this is so, but assuredly there is no authority which makes a

statement which is at all convincing concerning any work earlier than

the tenth century.

Le Puy's first bishop was St. Georges,--in the third century,--at which

time, as now, the diocese was a suffragan of Bourges.

The cathedral itself is perched on a hilltop behind which rises an

astonishing crag or pinnacle,--the _rocher Corneille_, which, in turn,

is surmounted by a modern colossal bronze figure, commonly called _Notre

Dame de France_. The native will tell you that it is called "the Virgin

of Le Puy." Due allowance for local pride doubtless accounts for this.

Its height is fifty feet, and while astonishingly impressive in many

ways, is, as a work of art, without beauty in itself.

[Illustration: _Le Puy_]

There is a sort of subterranean or crypt-like structure, beneath the

westerly end of the cathedral, caused by the extreme slope of the rock

upon which the choir end is placed. One enters by a stairway of sixty

steps, which is beneath the parti-coloured façade of the twelfth

century. It is very striking and must be a unique approach to a

cathedral; the entrance here being two stories below that of the

pavement of nave and choir. This porch of three round-arched naves is

wholly unusual. Entrance to the main body of the church is finally

gained through the transept.

The whole structure is curiously kaleidoscopic, with blackish and dark

brown tints predominating, but alternating--in the west façade, which

has been restored in recent times--with bands of a lighter and again a

darker stone. It has been called by a certain red-robed mentor of

travel-lore an ungainly, venerable, but singular edifice: quite a

non-committal estimate, and one which, like most of its fellows, is

worse than a slander. It is most usually conceded by French

authorities--_who might naturally be supposed to know their

subject_--that it is very nearly the most genuinely interesting

exposition of a local manner of church-building extant; and as such the

cathedral at Le Puy merits great consideration.

The choir is the oldest portion, and is probably not of later date than

the tenth century. The glass therein is modern. It has a possession, a

"miraculous virgin,"--whose predecessor was destroyed in the fury of the

Revolution,--which is supposed to work wonders upon those who bestow an

appropriate votive offering. To the former shrine came many pilgrims,

numbering among them, it is said rather indefinitely and doubtfully,

"several popes and the following kings: Louis VII., Philippe-Auguste,

Philippe-le-Hardi, Charles VI., Charles VII., Louis XI., and Charles

VIII."

To-day, as if doubtful of the shrine's efficacy, the pilgrims are few in

number and mostly of the peasant class.

The bays of the nave are divided by round-headed arches, but connected

with the opposing bay by the ogival variety.

The transepts have apsidal terminations, as is much more frequent south

of the Loire than in the north of France, but still of sufficient

novelty to be remarked here. The east end is rectangular--which is

really a very unusual attribute in any part of France, only two examples

elsewhere standing out prominently--the cathedrals at Laon and

Dol-de-Bretagne. The cloister of Notre Dame, small and simple though it

be, is of a singular charm and tranquillity.

With the tower or cupola of this cathedral the architects of Auvergne

achieved a result very near the _perfectionnement_ of its style. Like

all of the old-time _clochers_ erected in this province--anterior to

Gothic--it presents a great analogy to Byzantine origin, though, in a

way, not quite like it either. Still the effect of columns and pillars,

in both the interior construction and exterior decoration of these fine

towers, forms something which suggests, at least, a development of an

ideal which bears little, or no, relation to the many varieties of

_campanile_, _beffroi_, _tour_ or _clocher_ seen elsewhere in France.

The spire, as we know it elsewhere, a dominant pyramidal termination,

the love of which Mistral has said is the foundation of patriotism, is

in this region almost entirely wanting; showing that the influence, from

whatever it may have sprung, was no copy of anything which had gone

before, nor even the suggestion of a tendency or influence toward the

pointed Gothic, or northern style. Therefore the towers, like most other

features of this style, are distinctly of the land of its

environment--Auvergnian.

This will call to mind, to the American, the fact that Trinity Church in

Boston is manifestly the most distinctive application, in foreign lands,

of the form and features of the manner of church-building of the

Auvergne.

Particularly is this to be noted by viewing the choir exterior with its

inlaid or geometrically planned stonework: a feature which is Romanesque

if we go back far enough, but which is distinctly Auvergnian in its

mediæval use.

For sheer novelty, before even the towering bronze statue of the Virgin,

which overtops the cathedral, must be placed that other needle-like

basaltic eminence which is crowned by a tiny chapel dedicated to St.

Michel.

This "_aiguille_," as it is locally known, rises something over two

hundred and fifty feet from the river-bed at its base; like a sharp

cone, dwindling from a diameter of perhaps five hundred feet at its base

to a scant fifty at its apex.

St. Michel has always had a sort of vested proprietorship in such

pinnacles as this, and this tiny chapel in his honour was the erection

of a prelate of the diocese of Le Puy in the tenth century. The chapel

is Romanesque, octagonal, and most curious; with its isolated

situation,--only reached by a flight of many steps cut in the rock,--and

its tesselated stone pavements, its mosaic in basalt of the portal, and

its few curious sculptures in stone. As a place of pilgrimage for a

twentieth-century tourist it is much more appealing than the

Virgin-crowned _rocher Corneille_; each will anticipate no

inconsiderable amount of physical labour, which, however, is the true

pilgrim spirit.

The château of Polignac _compels_ attention, and it is not so very

foreign to church affairs after all; the house of the name gave to the

court of Louis XIV. a cardinal.

To-day this one-time feudal stronghold is but a mere ruin. The

Revolution finished it, as did that fury many another architectural

glory of France.

[Illustration: _The Black Virgin, Le Puy_]

XIV

NOTRE DAME DE CLERMONT-FERRAND

Clermont-Ferrand is the hub from which radiates in the season,--from

April to October,--and in all directions, the genuine French _touriste_.

He is a remarkable species of traveller, and he apportions to himself

the best places in the _char-à bancs_ and the most convenient seats at

_table d'hôte_ with a discrimination that is perfection. He is not much

interested in cathedrals, or indeed in the twin city of Clermont-Ferrand

itself, but rather his choice lies in favour of Mont Doré, Puy de Dôme,

Royat, St. Nectaire, or a dozen other alluring tourist resorts in which

the neighbouring volcanic region abounds.

By reason of this--except for its hotels and cafés--Clermont-Ferrand is

justly entitled to rank as one of the most ancient and important centres

of Christianity in France.

[Illustration: NOTRE DAME _de CLERMONT-FERRAND_]

Its cathedral is not of the local manner of building: it is of manifest

Norman example. But the Église Notre Dame du Port is Auvergnian of

the most profound type, and withal, perhaps more appealing than the

cathedral itself. Furthermore the impulse of the famous crusades first

took form here under the fervent appeal of Urban II., who was in the

city at the Council of the Church held in 1095. Altogether the part

played by this city of mid-France in the affairs of the Christian faith

was not only great, but most important and far-reaching in its effect.

In its cathedral are found to a very considerable extent those

essentials to the realization of the pure Gothic style, which even Sir

Christopher Wren confessed his inability to fully comprehend.

It is a pleasant relief, and a likewise pleasant reminder of the

somewhat elaborate glories of the Isle of France, to come upon an

edifice which at least presents a semblance to the symmetrical pointed

Gothic of the north. The more so in that it is surrounded by Romanesque

and local types which are peers among their class.

Truly enough it is that such churches as Notre Dame du Port, the

cathedral at Le Puy, and the splendid series of Romanesque churches at

Poitiers are as interesting and as worthy of study as the resplendent

modern Gothic. On the other hand, the transition to the baseness of the

Renaissance,--without the intervention of the pointed style,--while not

so marked here as elsewhere, is yet even more painfully impressed upon

one.

The contrast between the Romanesque style, which was manifestly a good

style, and the Renaissance, which was palpably bad, suggests, as

forcibly as any event of history, the change of temperament which came

upon the people, from the fifteenth to the seventeenth centuries.

This cathedral is possessed of two fine western towers (340 feet in

height), graceful in every proportion, hardy without being clumsy,

symmetrical without weakness, and dwindling into crowning spires after a

manner which approaches similar works at Bordeaux and Quimper. These

examples are not of first rank, but, if not of masterful design, are at

least acceptable exponents of the form they represent.

These towers, as well as the western portal, are, however, of a very

late date. They are the work of Viollet-le-Duc in the latter half of the

nineteenth century, and indicate--if nothing more--that, where a good

model is used, a modern Gothic work may still betray the spirit of

antiquity. This gifted architect was not so successful with the western

towers of the abbey church of St. Ouen at Rouen. Externally the

cathedral at Clermont-Ferrand shows a certain lack of uniformity.

Its main fabric, of a black volcanic stone, dates from 1248 to 1265. At

this time the work was in charge of one Jean Deschamps.

The church was not, however, consecrated until nearly a century later,

and until the completion of the west front remained always an unfinished

work which received but scant consideration from lovers of church

architecture.

The whole structure was sorely treated at the Revolution, was entirely

stripped of its ornaments and what monuments it possessed, and was only

saved from total destruction by a subterfuge advanced by a local

magistrate, who suggested that the edifice might be put to other than

its original use.

The first two bays of the nave are also of nineteenth-century

construction. This must account for the frequent references of a former

day to the general effect of incompleteness. To-day it is a coherent if

not a perfect whole, though works of considerable magnitude are still

under way.

The general effect of the interior is harmonious, though gloomy as to

its lighting, and bare as to its walls.

The vault rises something over a hundred feet above the pavement, and

the choir platform is considerably elevated. The aisles of the nave are

doubled, and very wide.

The joints of pier and wall have been newly "pointed," giving an

impression of a more modern work than the edifice really is.

The glass of the nave and choir is of a rare quality and unusually

abundant. How it escaped the fury of the Revolution is a mystery.

There are two fifteenth-century rose windows in the transepts, and a

more modern example in the west front, the latter being decidedly

inferior to the others. The glass of the choir is the most beautiful of

all, and is of the time of Louis IX., whose arms, quartered with those

of Spain, are shown therein. The general effect of this coloured glass

is not of the supreme excellence of that at Chartres, but the effect of

mellowness, on first entering, is in every way more impressive than that

of any other cathedral south of the Loire.

The organ _buffet_ has, in this instance, been cut away to allow of the

display of the modern _rosace_. This is a most thoughtful consideration

of the attributes of a grand window; which is obviously that of giving a

pleasing effect to an interior, rather than its inclusion in the

exterior scheme of decoration.

In the choir is a _retable_ of gilded and painted wood, representing the

life of St. Crépinien, a few tombs, and in the chapels some frescoes of

the thirteenth century. There is the much-appreciated astronomical

clock--a curiosity of doubtful artistic work and symbolism--in one of

the transepts.

A statue of Pope Urban II. is _en face_ to the right of the cathedral.

At the Council of 1095 Urban II. preached for the first crusade to

avenge the slaughter "of pilgrims, princes, and bishops," which had

taken place at Romola in Palestine, and to regain possession of

Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulchre from the Turkish Sultan, Ortock.

The enthusiasm of the pontiff was so great that the masses forthwith

entered fully into the spirit of the act, the nobles tearing their red

robes into shreds to form the badge of the crusader's cross, which was

given to all who took the vow.

By command of the Pope, every serf who took the cross was to obtain his

liberty from his overlord. This fact, perhaps, more than any other led

to the swelled ranks of the first crusade under Peter the Hermit.

The rest is history, though really much of its written chronicle is

really romance.

Clermont was a bishopric in the third century, with St. Austremoine as

its first bishop. The diocese is to-day a suffragan of Bourges.

At the head of the Cours Sablon is a fifteenth-century fountain,

executed to the order of a former bishop, Jacques d'Amboise.

The bibliothèque still preserves, among fifty thousand volumes and

eleven hundred MSS., an illuminated folio Bible of the twelfth century,

a missal which formerly belonged to Pope Clement VI., and a

ninth-century manuscript of the monk, Gregory of Tours.

Near the cathedral in the Rue de Petit Gras is the birthplace of the

precocious Blaise Pascal, who next to Urban II.--if not even before

him--is perhaps Clermont's most famous personage. A bust of the

celebrated writer is let into the wall which faces the Passage Vernines,

and yet another adorns the entrance to the bibliothèque; and again

another--a full-length figure this time--is set about with growing

plants, in the Square Blaise Pascal. Altogether one will judge that

Pascal is indeed the most notable figure in the secular history of the

city. This most original intellect of his time died in 1662, at the

early age of thirty-nine.

XV

ST. FULCRAN DE LODÈVE

Lodève, seated tightly among the mountains, near the confluence of the

rivers Solondre and Lergue, not far from the Cevennes and the borders of

the Gévaudan, was a bishopric, suffragan of Narbonne, as early as the

beginning of the fourth century.

It had been the capital of the Gallic tribe of the Volsques, then a

pagan Roman city, and finally was converted to Christianity in the year

323 by the apostle St. Flour, who founded the bishopric, which, with so

many others, was suppressed at the Revolution.

The city suffered greatly from the wars of the Goths, the Albigenses,

and later the civil wars of the Protestants and Catholics. The bishops

of Lodève were lords by virtue of the fact that the title was bought

from the viscounts whose honour it had previously held. _St. Guillem Ley

Desert_ (O. F.), a famous abbey of the Benedictines, founded by an

ancestor of the Prince of Orange, is near by.

The ancient cathedral of St. Fulcran is situated in the _haute-ville_

and dates, as to its foundation walls, from the middle of the tenth

century. The reconstructed present-day edifice is mainly of the

thirteenth century, and as an extensive work of its time is entitled to

rank with many of the cathedral churches which survived the Revolution.

By the end of the sixteenth century, the last remaining work and

alterations were completed, and one sees therefore a fairly consistent

mediæval church. The west façade is surmounted by _tourelles_ which are

capped with a defending _mâchicoulis_, presumably for defence from

attack from the west, as this battlement could hardly have been intended

for mere ornament, decorative though it really is. The interior height

rises to something approximating eighty feet, and is imposing to a far

greater degree than many more magnificent and wealthy churches.

The choir is truly elegant in its proportions and decorations, its chief

ornament being that of the high-altar, and the white marble lions which

flank the stalls. From the choir one enters the ruined cloister of the

fifteenth century; which, if not remarkable in any way, is at least

distinctive and a sufficiently uncommon appendage of a cathedral church

to be remarked.

A marble tomb of a former bishop,--Plantavit de la Pause,--a

distinguished prelate and bibliophile, is also in the choir. This

monument is a most worthy artistic effort, and shows two lions lying at

the foot of a full-length figure of the churchman. It dates from 1651,

and, though of Renaissance workmanship, its design and sculpture--like

most monumental work of its era--are far ahead of the quality of

craftsmanship displayed by the builders and architects of the same

period.

The one-time episcopal residence is now occupied by the _hôtel de

ville_, the _tribunal_, and the _caserne de gendarmerie_. As a shelter

for civic dignity this is perhaps not a descent from its former glory,

but as a _caserne_ it is a shameful debasement; not, however, as mean as

the level to which the papal palace at Avignon has fallen.

The guide-book information--which, be it said, is not disputed or

reviled here--states that the city's manufactories supply _surtout des

draps_ for the army; but the church-lover will get little sustenance for

his refined appetite from this kernel of matter-of-fact information.

Lodève is, however, a charming provincial town, with two ancient bridges

crossing its rivers, a ruined château, _Montbrun_, and a fine promenade

which overlooks the river valleys round about.

_PART III

The Rhône Valley_

I

INTRODUCTORY

The knowledge of the geographer Ptolemy, who wrote in the second century

with regard to the Rhône, was not so greatly at fault as with respect to

other topographical features, such as coasts and boundaries.

Perhaps the fact that Gaul had for so long been under Roman dominion had

somewhat to do with this.

He gives, therefore, a tolerably correct account as to this mighty

river, placing its sources in the Alps, and tracing its flow through the

lake _Lemannus_ (Leman) to _Lugdunum_ (Lyon); whence, turning sharply to

the southward, it enters the Mediterranean south of Arles. Likewise, he

correctly adds that the upper river is joined with the combined flow of

the Doubs and Saône, but commits the error of describing their source to

be also in the Alps.

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, who knew these parts well,--his home was near

Autun,--has described the confluence of the Saône and Rhône thus:

"The width and depth of the two rivers are equal, but the swift-flowing

Rhône discharges twice the volume of water of the slow-running Saône.

They also differ remarkably in colour. The Saône is emerald-green and

the Rhône blue-green. Here the minor river loses its name and character,

and, by an unusual process, the slowest and most navigable stream in

Europe joins the swiftest and least navigable. The _Flumen Araris_

ceases and becomes the _Rhodanus_."

The volume of water which yearly courses down the Rhône is perhaps

greater than would first appear, when, at certain seasons of the year,

one sees a somewhat thin film of water gliding over a wide expanse of

yellow sand and shingle.

Throughout, however, it is of generous width and at times rises in a

true torrential manner: this when the spring freshets and melting Alpine

snows are directed thither toward their natural outlet to the sea.

"Rivers," said Blaise Pascal, "are the roads that move." Along the great

river valleys of the Rhône, the Loire, the Seine, and the Rhine were

made the first Roman roads, the prototypes of the present-day means of

communication.

The development of civilization and the arts along these great pathways

was rapid and extensive. Two of them, at least, gave birth to

architectural styles quite differing from other neighbouring types: the

_Romain-Germanique_--bordering along the Rhine and extending to Alsace

and the Vosges; and the _Romain-Bourguignon_, which followed the valley

of the Rhône from Bourgogne to the Mediterranean and the Italian

frontier, including all Provence.

The true source of the Rhône is in the Pennine Alps, where, in consort

with three other streams, the Aar, the Reuss, and the Ticino, it rises

in a cloven valley close to the lake of Brienz, amid that huge jumble of

mountain-tops, which differs so greatly from the popular conception of a

mountain range.

Dauphiné and Savoie are to-day comparatively unknown by parlour-car

travellers. Dauphiné, with its great historical associations, the wealth

and beauty of its architecture, the magnificence of its scenery, has

always had great attractions for the historian, the archæologist, and

the scholar; to the tourist, however, even to the French tourist, it

remained for many years a _terra incognita_. Yet no country could

present the traveller with a more wonderful succession of ever-changing

scenery, such a rich variety of landscape, ranging from verdant plain to

mountain glacier, from the gay and picturesque to the sublime and

terrible. Planted in the very heart of the French Alps, rising terrace

above terrace from the lowlands of the Rhône to the most stupendous

heights, Dauphiné may with reason claim to be the worthy rival of

Switzerland.

The romantic associations of "La Grande Chartreuse"; of the charming

valley towns of Sion and Aoste, famed alike in the history of Church and

State; and of the more splendidly appointed cities of Grenoble and

Chambéry, will make a new leaf in the books of most peoples'

experiences.

The rivers Durance, Isère, and Drôme drain the region into the more

ample basin of the Rhône, and the first of the three--for sheer beauty

and romantic picturesqueness--will perhaps rank first in all the world.

The chief associations of the Rhône valley with the Church are centred

around Lyon, Vienne, Avignon, and Arles. The associations of history--a

splendid and a varied past--stand foremost at Orange, Nîmes, Aix, and

Marseilles. It is not possible to deal here with the many _pays et pagi_

of the basin of the Rhône.

Of all, Provence--that golden land--stands foremost and compels

attention. One might praise it _ad infinitum_ in all its splendid

attributes and its glorious past, but one could not then do it justice;

better far that one should sum it up in two words--"Mistral's world."

The popes and the troubadours combined to cast a glamour over the "fair

land of Provence" which is irresistible. Here were architectural

monuments, arches, bridges, aqueducts, and arenas as great and as

splendid as the world has ever known. Aix-en-Provence, in King René's

time, was the gayest capital of Europe, and the influence of its arts

and literature spread to all parts.

To the south came first the Visigoths, then the conflicting and

repelling Ostrogoths; between them soon to supplant the Gallo-Roman

cultivation which had here grown so vigorously.

It was as late as the sixth century when the Ostrogoths held the

brilliant sunlit city of Arles; when follows a history--applicable as

well to most of all southern France--of many dreary centuries of

discordant races, of varying religious faiths, and adherence now to one

lord and master, and then to another.

Monuments of various eras remain; so numerously that one can rebuild for

themselves much that has disappeared for ever: palaces as at Avignon,

castles as at Tarascon and Beaucaire, and walled cities as at

Aigues-Morte. What limitless suggestion is in the thought of the

assembled throngs who peopled the tiers of the arenas and theatres of

Arles and Nîmes in days gone by. The sensation is mostly to be derived,

however, from thought and conjecture. The painful and nullifying

"_spectacles_" and "_courses des taureaux_," which periodically hold

forth to-day in these noble arenas, are mere travesties on their

splendid functions of the past. Much more satisfying--and withal more

artistic--are the theatrical representations in that magnificent outdoor

theatre at Orange; where so recently as the autumn of 1903 was given a

grand representation of dramatic art, with Madame Bernhardt, Coquelin,

and others of the galaxy which grace the French stage to-day, taking

part therein.

Provençal literature is a vast and varied subject, and the women of

Arles--the true Arlesians of the poet and romancer--are astonishingly

beautiful. Each of these subjects--to do them justice--would require

much ink and paper. Daudet, in "_Tartarin_," has these opening words, as

if no others were necessary in order to lead the way into a new world:

"IT WAS SEPTEMBER AND IT WAS PROVENCE." Frederic Mistral, in "Mirèio,"

has written the great modern epic of Provence, which depicts the life as

well as the literature of the ancient troubadours. The "Fountain of

Vaucluse" will carry one back still further in the ancient Provençal

atmosphere; to the days of Petrarch and Laura, and the "little fish of

Sorgues."

What the Romance language really was, authorities--if they be

authorities--differ. Hence it were perhaps well that no attempt should

be made here to define what others have failed to place, beyond this

observation, which is gathered from a source now lost to recollection,

but dating from a century ago at least:

"The southern or Romance language, the tongue of all the people who

obeyed Charlemagne in the south of Europe, proceeded from the

parent-vitiated Latin.

"The Provençaux assert, and the Spaniards deny, that the Spanish tongue

is derived from the original Romance, though neither the Italians nor

the French are willing to owe much to it as a parent, in spite of the

fact that Petrarch eulogized it, and the troubadours as well.

"The Toulousans roundly assert that the Provençal is the root of all

other dialects whatever (_vide Cazeneuve_). Most Spanish writers on the

other hand insist that the Provençal is derived from the Spanish (_vide

Coleccion de Poesias Castellanas; Madrid, 1779_)."

At all events the idiom, from whatever it may have sprung, took root,

propagated and flourished in the land of the Provençal troubadours.

Whatever may have been the real extent of the influences which went out

from Provence, it is certain that the marriage of Robert with

Constance--daughter of the first Count of Provence, about the year

1000--was the period of a great change in manners and customs

throughout the kingdom. Some even have asserted that this princess

brought in her train the troubadours who spread the taste for poetry and

its accompaniments throughout the north of France.

The "Provence rose," so celebrated in legend and literature, can hardly

be dismissed without a word; though, in truth, the casual traveller will

hardly know of its existence, unless he may have a sweet recollection of

some rural maid, who, with sleeves carefully rolled up, stood before her

favourite rose-tree, tenderly examining it, and driving away a buzzing

fly or a droning wasp.

These firstlings of the season are tended with great pride. The

distinctive "rose of Provence" is smaller, redder, and more elastic and

concentric than the _centifoliæ_ of the north, and for this reason,

likely, it appears the more charming to the eye of the native of the

north, who, if we are to believe the romanticists, is made a child again

by the mere contemplation of this lovely flower.

The glory of this rich red "Provence rose" is in dispute between

Provence and Provins, the ancient capital of La Brie; but the weight of

the argument appears to favour the former.

Below Arles and Nîmes the Rhône broadens out into a many-fingered

estuary, and mingles its Alpine flood with the blue waters of the

Mediterranean.

The delta has been formed by the activity and energy of the river

itself, from the fourth century--when it is known that Arles lay sixteen

miles from the sea--till to-day, when it is something like thirty. This

ceaseless carrying and filling has resulted in a new coast-line, which

not only has changed the topography of the region considerably, but may

be supposed to have actually worked to the commercial disadvantage of

the country round about.

The annual prolongation of the shores--the reclaimed water-front--is

about one hundred and sixty-four feet, hence some considerable gain is

accounted for, but whether to the nation or the "squatter" statistics do

not say.

The delta of the Rhône has been described by an expansive French writer

as: "Something quite separate from the rest of France. It is a wedge of

Greece and of the East thrust into Gaul. It came north a hundred (or

more) years ago and killed the Monarchy. It caught the value in, and

created the great war-song of the Republic."

There is a deal of subtlety in these few lines, and they are given here

because of their truth and applicability.

II

ST. ETIENNE DE CHALONS-SUR-SAÔNE

"The cathedral at Chalons," says Philip Gilbert Hamerton,--who knew the

entire region of the Saône better perhaps than any other

Anglo-Saxon,--"has twin towers, which, in the evening, at a distance,

recall Notre Dame (at Paris), and there are domes, too, as in the

capital."

An imaginative description surely, and one that is doubtless not without

truth were one able to first come upon this riverside city of mid-France

in the twilight, and by boat from the upper river.

Chalons is an ideally situated city, with a placidness which the slow

current of the Saône does not disturb. But its cathedral! It is no more

like its Parisian compeer than it is like the Pyramids of Egypt.

In the first place, the cathedral towers are a weak, effeminate

imitation of a prototype which itself must have been far removed from

Notre Dame, and they have been bolstered and battened in a shameful

fashion.

The cathedral at Chalons is about the most ancient-looking possession of

the city, which in other respects is quite modern, and, aside from its

charming situation and general attractiveness, takes no rank whatever as

a centre of ancient or mediæval art.

Its examples of Gallic architecture are not traceable to-day, and of

Roman remains it possesses none. As a Gallic stronghold,--it was never

more than that,--it appealed to Cæsar merely as a base from which to

advance or retreat, and its history at this time is not great or

abundant.

A Roman wall is supposed to have existed, but its remains are not

traceable to-day, though tradition has it that a quantity of its stones

were transported by the monk Bénigne for the rotunda which he built at

Dijon.

The city's era of great prosperity was the fifteenth and sixteenth

centuries, when its fortifications were built up anew, its cathedral

finished, and fourteen churches held forth.

From this high estate it has sadly fallen, and there is only its

decrepit cathedral, rebuilt after a seventeenth-century fire, and two

churches--one of them modern--to uphold its ecclesiastical dignity.

The towers of the cathedral are of the seventeenth century, but the

so-called "Deanery Tower" is more ancient, and suggestive of much that

is militant and very little that is churchly.

The interior has been restored, not wholly with success, but yet not

wholly spoiled.

In plan and arrangement it is a simple and severe church, but acceptable

enough when one contemplates changes made elsewhere. Here are to be seen

no debased copies of Greek or Roman orders; which is something to be

thankful for.

The arches of the nave and choir are strong and bold, but not of great

spread. The height of the nave, part of which has come down from the

thirteenth century, is ninety feet at least.

There are well-carved capitals to the pillars of the nave, and the

coloured glass of the windows of triforium and clerestory is rich

without rising to great beauty.

In general the style is decidedly a _mélange_, though the cathedral is

entitled to rank as a Gothic example. Its length is 350 feet.

The _maître-autel_ is one of the most elegant in France.

Modern improvement has cleared away much that was picturesque, but

around the cathedral are still left a few gabled houses, which serve to

preserve something of the mediæval setting which once held it.

The courtyard and its dependencies at the base of the "Deanery Tower"

are the chief artistic features. They appeal far more strongly than any

general accessory of the cathedral itself, and suggest that they once

must have been the components of a cloister.

The see was founded in the fifth century as a suffragan of Lyon.

III

ST. VINCENT DE MACON

The _Mastieo_ of the Romans was not the Macon of to-day, though, by

evolution, or corruption, or whatever the process may have been, the

name has come down to us as referring to the same place. The former city

did not border the river, but was seated on a height overlooking the

Saône, which flows by the doors of the present city of Macon.

Its site is endowed with most of the attributes included in the

definition of "commanding," and, though not grandly situated, is, from

any riverside view-point, attractive and pleasing.

When it comes to the polygonal towers of its olden cathedral, this

charming and pleasing view changes to that of one which is curious and

interesting. The cathedral of St. Vincent is a battered old ruin, and no

amount of restoration and rebuilding will ever endow it with any more

deserving qualities.

[Illustration: ST. VINCENT _de MACON_.]

The Revolution was responsible for its having withered away, as it was

also for the abolishment of the see of Macon.

The towers stand to-day--lowered somewhat from their former

proportions--gaunt and grim, and the rich Burgundian narthen, which lay

between, has been converted--not restored, mark you--into an inferior

sort of chapel.

The destruction that fell upon various parts of this old church might as

well have been more sweeping and razed it to the ground entirely. The

effect could not have been more disheartening.

Macon formerly had twelve churches. Now it has three--if we include this

poor fragment of its one-time cathedral. Between the Revolution and the

coronation of Napoleon I. the city was possessed of no place of worship.

Macon became an episcopal see, with Placide as its first bishop, in the

sixth century. It was suppressed in 1790.

The bridge which crosses the river to the suburb of St. Laurent is

credited as being the finest work of its kind crossing the Saône.

Hamerton has said that "its massive arches and piers, wedge-shaped to

meet the wind, are pleasant to contemplate after numerous festoons of

wire carrying a roadway of planks." This bridge was formerly surmounted,

at either end, with a castellated gateway, but, like many of these

accessories elsewhere, they have disappeared.

The famous bridge at Cahors (shown elsewhere in this book) is the best

example of such a bridge still existing in France.

As a "cathedral city," Macon will not take a high rank. The "great man"

of Macon was Lamartine. His birthplace is shown to visitors, but its

present appearance does not suggest the splendid appointments of its

description in that worthy's memoirs.

Macon is the _entrepôt_ of the abundant and excellent _vin du

Bourgogne_, and the strictly popular repute of the city rests entirely

on this fact.

[Illustration: ST. JEAN _de LYON_.]

IV

ST. JEAN DE LYON

The Lyonnais is the name given to that region lying somewhat to the

westward of the city of Lyon. It is divided into three distinct parts,

_le Lyonnais_ proper, _le Forez_, and _le Beaujolais_. Its chief

appellation comes from that of its chief city, which in turn is more

than vague as to its etymology: _Lugdunum_ we know, of course, and we

can trace its evolution even unto the Anglicized Lyons, but when

philologists, antiquarians, and "pedants of mere pretence" ask us to

choose between _le corbeau_--_lougon_, _un eminence_--_dounon_,

_lone_--an arm of a river, and _dun_ the Celtic word for height, we are

amazed, and are willing enough to leave the solving of the problem to

those who will find a greater pleasure therein.

Lyon is a widely-spread city, of magnificent proportions and pleasing

aspect, situated as it is on the banks of two majestic, though

characteristically different rivers, the Rhône and the Saône.

In many respects it is an ideally laid-out city, and the scene from the

heights of Fourvière at night, when the city is brilliant with

many-lighted workshops, is a wonderfully near approach to fairy-land.

Whether the remarkable symmetry of the city's streets and plan is the

result of the genius of a past day, or of the modern progressive spirit,

is in some doubt. Certainly it must originally have been a delightfully

planned city, and the spirit of modernity--though great--has not by any

means wholly eradicated its whilom charm of another day.

It may be remarked here that about the only navigable portion of the

none too placid Rhône is found from here to Avignon and Arles, to which

points, in summer at least, steam-craft--of sorts--carry passengers with

expedition and economy--down-stream; the journey up-river will amaze one

by the potency of the flood of this torrential stream--so different from

the slow-going Saône.

The present diocese, of which the see of Lyon is the head, comprehends

the Department of the Rhône et Loire. It is known under the double

vocable of Lyon et Vienne, and is the outgrowth of the more ancient

ecclesiastical province of Vienne, whose archiepiscopal dignity was

domiciled in St. Maurice.

It was in the second century that St. Pothin, an Asiatic Greek, came to

the ancient province of Lyon as archbishop. The title carried with it

that of primate of all Gaul: hence the importance of the see, from the

earliest times, may be inferred.

The architectural remains upon which is built the flamboyant Gothic

church of St. Nizier are supposed to be those of the primitive cathedral

in which St. Pothin and St. Irenæus celebrated the holy rites. The claim

is made, of course, not without a show of justification therefor, but it

is a far cry from the second century of our era to this late day; and

the sacristan's words are not convincing, in view of the doubts which

many non-local experts have cast upon the assertion. The present _Église

St. Nizier_ is furthermore dedicated to a churchman who lived as late as

the sixth century.

The present cathedral of St. Jean dates from the early years of the

twelfth century, but there remains to-day another work closely allied

with episcopal affairs--the stone bridge which spans the Saône, and

which was built some two hundred years before the present cathedral by

Archbishop Humbert.

Though a bridge across a river is an essentially practical and utile

thing, it is, perhaps, in a way, as worthy a work for a generous and

masterful prelate as church-building itself. Certainly this was the case

with Humbert's bridge, he having designed the structure, superintended

its erection, and assumed the expense thereof. It is recorded that this

worthy churchman gained many adherents for the faith, so it may be

assumed that he builded as well as he knew.

St. Jean de Lyon dates from 1180, and presents many architectural

anomalies in its constructive elements, though the all-pervading Gothic

is in the ascendant. From this height downward, through various

interpolations, are seen suggestions of many varieties and styles of

church-building. There is, too, an intimation of a motif essentially

pagan if one attempts to explain the vagaries of some of the

ornamentation of the unusual septagonal Lombard choir. This is further

inferred when it is known that a former temple to Augustus stood on the

same site. If this be so, the reasoning is complete, and the classical

ornament here is of a very early date.

The fabric of the cathedral is, in the main, of a warm-coloured

freestone, not unlike dark marble, but without its brilliancy and

surface. It comes from the heights of Fourvière,--on whose haunches the

cathedral sits,--and by virtue of the act of foundation it may be

quarried at any time, free of all cost, for use by the Church.

The situation of this cathedral is most attractive; indeed its greatest

charm may be said to be its situation, so very picturesquely disposed is

it, with the Quai de l'Archevêché between it and the river Saône.

The choir itself--after allowing for the interpolation of the early

non-Christian fragments--is the most consistently pleasing portion. It

presents in general a fairly pure, early Gothic design. Curiously

enough, this choir sits below the level of the nave and presents, in the

interior view, an unusual effect of amplitude.

With the nave of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the style

becomes more mixed--localized, one may say--if only consistent details

might be traced. At any rate, the style grows perceptibly heavier and

more involved, without the simplicity of pre-Gothic work. Finally, as

one comes to the heavily capped towers, there is little of grace and

beauty left.

In detail, at least, if not in general, St. Jean runs quite the whole

scale of mediæval architectural style--from the pure Romanesque to the

definite, if rather mixed, Gothic.

Of the later elements, the most remarkable is the fifteenth-century

Bourbon chapel, built by Cardinal Charles and his brother Pierre. This

chapel presents the usual richness and luxuriance of its time. If all

things are considered, it is the chief feature of interest within the

walls.

The west front has triple portals, reminiscent, as to dimensions, of

Amiens, though by no means so grandly peopled with statues; the heavy,

stunted towers, too, are not unlike those of Amiens. These twin towers

are of a decidedly heavy order, and are not beautiful, either as

distinct features or as a component of the ensemble. Quite in keeping

also are the chief decorations of the façade, which are principally a

series of superimposed medallions, depicting, variously, the signs of

the zodiac, scenes from the life of St. Jean, and yet others suggesting

scenes and incidents from Genesis, with an admixture of heraldic

symbolism which is here quite meaningless and singularly inappropriate,

while still other entablatures present scenes illustrating the "Legend

of St. Nicholas" and "The Law of Aristotle."

The general effect of the exterior, the façade in particular, is very

dark, and except in a bright sunlight--which is usual--is indeed gloomy.

In all probability, this is due to the discolouring of the soft stone of

which the cathedral is built, as the same effect is scarcely to be

remarked in the interior.

In a tower on the south side--much lower, and not so clumsily built up

as the twin towers--hangs one of the greatest _bourdons_ in France. It

was cast in 1662, and weighs ten thousand kilos.

Another curiosity of a like nature is to be seen in the interior, an

astronomical clock--known to Mr. Tristram as "that great clock of

Lippius of Basle." Possessed of a crowing cock and the usual toy-book

attributes, this great clock is a source of perennial pride to the

native and the makers of guide-books. Sterne, too, it would appear,

waxed unduly enthusiastic over this really ingenious thing of wheels and

cogs. He said: "I never understood the least of mechanism. I declare I

was never able yet to comprehend the principles of a squirrel-cage or a

knife-grinder's wheel, yet I will go see this wonderful clock the first

thing I do." When he did see it, he quaintly observed that "it was all

out of joint."

The rather crude coloured glass--though it is precious glass, for it

dates from the thirteenth century, in part--sets off bountifully an

interior which would otherwise appear somewhat austere.

In the nave is a marble pulpit which has been carved with more than

usual skill. It ranks with that in St. Maurice, at Vienne, as one of the

most beautiful in France.

The cathedral possesses two _reliques_ of real importance in the crosses

which are placed to the left and right of the high-altar. These are

conserved by a unique custom, in memory of an attempt made by a _concile

génêral_ of the church, held in Lyon in 1274, to reconcile the Latin and

Greek forms of religion.

The sacristy, in which the bountiful, though not historic, _trésor_ is

kept, is in the south transept.

Among the archives of the cathedral there are, says a local antiquary,

documents of a testamentary nature, which provided the means for the

up-keep of the fabric without expense to the church, until well into the

eighteenth century.

On the apex of the height which rises above the cathedral is the

Basilique de Notre Dame de Fourvière--"one of those places of

pilgrimage, the most venerated in all the world," says a confident

French writer. This may be so; it overlooks ground which has long been

hallowed by the Church, to a far greater degree than many other parts,

but, like so many places of pilgrimage of a modern day, its nondescript

religious edifice is enough to make the church-lover willingly pass it

by. The site is that of the ancient _Forum Vetus_ of the Romans, and as

such is more appealing to most than as a place of pilgrimage.

V

ST. MAURICE DE VIENNE

"At the feet of seven mountains; on the banks of a large river; an

antique city and a _cité neuve_."

--FRANÇOIS PONSARD.

Though widowed to-day of its bishop's throne, Vienne enjoys with Lyon

the distinction of having its name attached to an episcopal see. The

ancient archbishopric ruled over what was known as the Province of

Vienne, which, if not more ancient than that of Lyon, dates from the

same century--the second of our Christian era--and probably from a few

years anterior, as it is known that St. Crescent, the first prelate of

the diocese, was firmly established here as early as 118 A. D. In any

event, it was one of the earliest centres of Christianity north of the

Alps.

To-day, being merged with the diocese of Lyon, Vienne is seldom credited

as being a cathedral city. Locally the claim is very strongly made, but

the Mediterranean tourist never finds this out, unless, perchance, he

"drops off" from the railway in order to make acquaintance with that

remarkable Roman temple to Augustus, of which he may have heard.

Then he will learn from the _habitants_ that by far their greatest

respect and pride are for their _ancienne Cathédrale de St. Maurice_,

which sits boldly upon a terrace dominating the course of the river

Rhône.

In many respects St. Maurice de Vienne will strike the student and lover

of architecture as being one of the most lively and appealing edifices

of its kind. The Lombard origin of many of its features is without

question; notably the delightful gallery on the north side, with its

supporting columns of many grotesque shapes.

Again the parapet and terrace which precede this church, the

ground-plan, and some of the elevations are pure Lombard in motive.

There are no transepts and no ancient chapels at the eastern

termination; the windows running down to the pavement. This, however,

does not make for an appearance at all _outré_--quite the reverse is the

case. The general effect of the entire internal distribution of parts,

with its fine approach from the nave to the sanctuary and choir, is

exceedingly notable.

Of the remains of the edifice, which was erected on the foundations of a

still earlier church, in 1052 (reconstructed in 1515), we have those of

the primitive, but rich, ornamentation of the façade as the most

interesting and appealing.

The north doorway, too, indicates in its curious _bas-reliefs_, of the

twelfth or thirteenth centuries, a luxuriance which in the north--in the

Romanesque churches at least--came only with later centuries.

There are few accessories of note to be seen in the choir or chapels: a

painting of St. Maurice by Desgoffés, a small quantity of

fourteenth-century glass, the mausoleum of Cardinal de Montmorin, a

sixteenth-century tomb, and, in one of the chapels, some modern glass of

more than usual brilliance.

The pulpit is notable, and, with that in St. Jean de Lyon, ranks as one

of the most elaborate in France.

For the rest, one's admiration for St. Maurice de Vienne must rest on

the glorious antiquity of the city, as a centre of civilizing and

Christianizing influence.

When Pope Paschal II. (1099-1118) confirmed the metropolitan privileges

of Vienne, and sent the _pallium_ to its archbishop, he assigned to him

as suffragans the bishops of Grenoble, Valence, Dié, Viviers, Geneva,

and St. Jean de Maurienne, and conferred upon him the honorary office of

primate over Monstiers in Tarentaise. Still later, Calixtus II.

(1119-24) favoured the archbishopric still further by not only

confirming the privileges which had gone before, but investing the

archbishop with the still higher dignity of the office of primate over

the seven ecclesiastical Provinces of Vienne, Bourges, Bordeaux, Auch,

Narbonne, Aix, and Embrun.

[Illustration]

VI

ST. APOLLINAIRE DE VALENCE

Valence, the Valentia of the Romans, is variously supposed to be

situated in southeastern France, Provence, and the Cevennes. For this

reason it will be difficult for the traveller to locate his guide-book

reference thereto.

It is, however, located in the Rhône valley on the very banks of that

turgid river, and it seems inexplicable that the makers of the

red-covered couriers do not place it more definitely; particularly in

that it is historically so important a centre.

The most that can usually be garnered by the curious is that it is "well

built in parts, and that those parts only are of interest to the

traveller." As a matter of fact, they are nothing of the sort; and the

boulevards, of which so much is made, are really very insignificant; so,

too, are the cafés and restaurants, to which far more space is usually

given than to the claim of Valence as an early centre of Christianity.

Valence is not a great centre of population, and is appealing by reason

of its charming situation, in a sort of amphitheatre, before which runs

the swift-flowing Rhône. There is no great squalor, but there is a

picturesqueness and charm which is wholly dispelled in the newer

quarters, of which the guide-books speak.

There is, moreover, in the cathedral of St. Apollinaire, a small but

highly interesting "Romanesque-Auvergnian" cathedral; rebuilt and

reconsecrated by Urban II., in the eleventh century, and again

reconstructed, on an entirely new plan, in 1604. Besides this curious

church there is a "Protestant temple," which occupies the former chapel

of the ancient Abbey of St. Rufus, that should have a singularly

appealing interest for English-speaking folk.

The préfecture occupies another portion of the abbey, which in its

various disintegrated parts is worthy of more than passing

consideration.

The bishopric was founded here at Valence in the fourth century--when

Emelien became the first bishop. The see endures to-day as a suffragan

of Avignon; whereas formerly it owed obedience to Vienne (now Lyon et

Vienne).

The ancient cathedral of St. Apollinaire is almost wholly conceived and

executed in what has come to be known as the Lombard style.

The main body of the church is preceded on the west by an extravagant

rectangular tower, beneath which is the portal or entrance; if, as in

the present instance, the comprehensive meaning of the word suggests

something more splendid than a mere doorway.

There has been remarked before now that there is a suggestion of the

Corinthian order in the columns of both the inside and outside of the

church. This is a true enough detail of Lombard forms as it was of the

Roman style, which in turn was borrowed from the Greeks. In later times

the neo-classical details of the late Renaissance period produced quite

a different effect, and were in no way comparable to the use of this

detail in the Lombard and Romanesque churches.

In St. Apollinaire, too, are to be remarked the unusual arch formed of a

rounded trefoil. This is found in both the towers, and is also seen in

St. Maurice at Vienne, but not again until the country far to the

northward and eastward is reached, where they are more frequent,

therefore their use here may be considered simply as an interpolation

brought from some other soil, rather than an original conception of the

local builder.

Here also is seen the unusual combination of an angular pointed arch in

conjunction with the round-headed Lombard variety. This, in alternation

for a considerable space, on the south side of the cathedral. It is a

feature perhaps not worth mentioning, except from the fact that both the

trefoil and wedge-pointed arch are singularly unbeautiful and little in

keeping with an otherwise purely southern structure.

The aisles of St. Apollinaire, like those of Notre Dame de la Grande at

Poitiers, and many other Lombardic churches, are singularly narrow,

which of course appears to lengthen them out interminably.

If any distinctive style can be given this small but interesting

cathedral, it may well be called the style of Lyonnaise.

It dates from the twelfth century as to its foundations, but was rebuilt

on practically a new ground-plan in 1604.

To-day it is cruciform after the late elongated style, with lengthy

transepts and lofty aisles.

The chief feature to be observed of its exterior is its heavy square

tower (187 feet) of four stories. It is not beautiful, and was rebuilt

in the middle nineteenth century, but it is imposing and groups

satisfactorily enough with the _ensemble_ round about. Beneath this

tower is a fine porch worked in Crussol marble.

There is no triforium or clerestory. In the choir is a cenotaph in white

marble to Pius VI., who was exiled in Valence, and who died here in

1799. It is surmounted by a bust by Canova, whose work it has become the

fashion to admire sedulously.

VII

CATHÉDRALE DE VIVIERS

The bishopric of Viviers is a suffragan of Avignon, and is possessed of

a tiny cathedral church, which, in spite of its diminutive proportions,

overtops quite all the other buildings of this ancient capital of the

Vivarais.

The city is a most picturesque setting for any shrine, with the narrow,

tortuous streets--though slummy ones--winding to the cliff-top on which

the city sits high above the waters of the Rhône.

The choir of this cathedral is the only portion which warrants remark.

It is of the fourteenth century, and has no aisles. It is in the

accepted Gothic style, but this again is coerced by the Romanesque

flanking tower, which, to all intents and purposes, when viewed from

afar, might well be taken for a later Renaissance work.

A nearer view dissects this tower into really beautiful parts. The base

is square, but above--in an addition of the fifteenth century--it blooms

forth into an octagon of quite original proportions.

In the choir are some Gobelin tapestries and paintings by Mignard;

otherwise there are no artistic attributes to be remarked.

VIII

NOTRE DAME D'ORANGE

The independent principality of Orange (which had existed since the

eleventh century), with the papal State of Avignon, the tiny Comté

Venaissin, and a small part of Provence were welded into the Department

of Vaucluse in the redistribution of political divisions under Napoleon

I. The house of Nassau retains to-day the honorary title of Princes of

Orange, borne by the heir apparent to the throne of Holland. More

anciently the city was known as the Roman _Arausio_, and is yet famous

for its remarkable Roman remains, the chief of which are its triumphal

arch and theatre--one of the largest and most magnificent, if not

actually the largest, of its era.

The history of the church at Orange is far more interesting and notable

than that of its rather lame apology for a cathedral of rank. The see

succumbed in 1790 in favour of Avignon, an archbishopric, and Valence,

one of its suffragans.

The persecution and oppression of the Protestants of Orange and Dauphiné

are well-recorded facts of history.

A supposedly liberal and tolerant maker of guide-books (in English) has

given inhabitants of Orange a hard reputation by classing them as a

"ferocious people." This rather unfair method of estimating their

latter-day characteristics is based upon the fact that over three

hundred perished here by the guillotine during the first three months of

the Revolution. It were better had he told us something of the

architectural treasures of this _ville de l'art célèbre_. He does

mention the chief, also that "the town has many mosquitoes," but, as for

churches, he says not a word.

The first bishop was St. Luce, who was settled here in the fourth

century, at the same time that St. Ruff came to Avignon.

As a bishopric, Orange was under the control of St. Trophime's

successors at Arles.

Notre Dame d'Orange is a work of little architectural pretence, though

its antiquity is great as to certain portions of its walls. The oldest

portion dates from 1085, though there is little to distinguish it from

the more modern additions and reparations, and is in no way suggestive

of the splendour with which the ancient Roman theatre and arch were

endowed.

The chief attribute to be remarked is the extreme width of nave, which

dates from 1085 to 1126. The cathedral itself, however, is not an

architectural example of any appealing interest whatever, and pales

utterly before the magnificent and splendid preservations of secular

Roman times.

Since, however, Orange is a city reminiscent of so early a period of

Christianity as the fourth century, it is to be presumed that other

Christian edifices of note may have at one time existed: if so, no very

vivid history of them appears to have been left behind, and certainly no

such tangible expressions of the art of church-building as are seen in

the neighbouring cities of the Rhône valley.

[Illustration]

IX

ST. VÉRAN DE CAVAILLON

"It is the plain of Cavaillon which is the market-garden of Avignon;

from whence come the panniers of vegetables and fruits, the _buissons

d'artichauts_, and the melons of 'high reputation.'"

Such is the rather free paraphrase of a most charmingly expressed

observation on this Provençal land of plenty, written by an

eighteenth-century Frenchman.

If it was true in those days, it is no less true to-day, and, though

this book is more concerned with churches than with _potagerie_, the

observation is made that this fact may have had not a little to do with

the early foundation of the church, here in a plenteous region, where it

was more likely to prosper than in an impoverished land.

The bishopric was founded in the fifth century by St. Genialis, and it

endured constantly until the suppression in 1790.

All interest in Cavaillon, in spite of its other not inconsiderable

claims, will be centred around its ancient cathedral of St. Véran,

immediately one comes into contact therewith.

The present structure is built upon a very ancient foundation; some have

said that the primitive church was of the seventh century. This present

cathedral was consecrated by Pope Innocent IV. in person, in 1259, and

for that reason possesses a considerable interest which it would

otherwise lack.

Externally the most remarkable feature is the arrangement and decoration

of the apside--there is hardly enough of it to come within the

classification of the chevet. Here the quintuple flanks, or sustaining

walls, are framed each with a pair of columns, of graceful enough

proportions in themselves, but possessed of inordinately heavy capitals.

An octagonal cupola, an unusual, and in this case a not very beautiful

feature, crowns the centre of the nave. In reality it serves the purpose

of a lantern, and allows a dubious light to trickle through into the

interior, which is singularly gloomy.

To the right of the nave is a curiously attenuated _clocher_, which

bears a clock-face of minute proportions, and holds a clanging

_bourdon_, which, judging from its voice, must be as proportionately

large as the clock-face is small.

Beneath this tower is a doorway leading from the nave to the cloister, a

beautiful work dating from a much earlier period than the church itself.

This cloister is not unlike that of St. Trophime at Arles, and, while

plain and simple in its general plan of rounded arches and vaulting, is

beautifully worked in stone, and admirably preserved. In spite of its

severity, there is no suggestion of crudity, and there is an elegance

and richness in its sculptured columns and capitals which is unusual in

ecclesiastical work of the time.

The interior of this church is quite as interesting as the exterior.

There is an ample, though aisleless, nave, which, though singularly dark

and gloomy, suggests a vastness which is perhaps really not justified

by the actual state of affairs.

A very curious arrangement is that the supporting wall-pillars--in this

case a sort of buttress, like those of the apside--serve to frame or

enclose a series of deep-vaulted side chapels. The effect of this is

that all of the flow of light, which might enter by the lower range of

windows, is practically cut off from the nave. What refulgence there

is--and it is not by any means of the dazzling variety--comes in through

the before-mentioned octagon and the upper windows of the nave.

In a chapel--the gift of Philippe de Cabassole, a friend of

Petrarch's--is a funeral monument which will even more forcibly recall

the name and association of the poet. It is a seventeenth-century tomb

of Bishop Jean de Sade, a descendant of the famous Laura, whose ashes

formerly lay in the Église des Cordeliers at Avignon, but which were, it

is to be feared, scattered to the winds by the Revolutionary fury.

At the summit of Mont St. Jacques, which rises high above the town, is

the ancient _Ermitage de St. Véran_; a place of local pilgrimage, but

not otherwise greatly celebrated.

X

NOTRE DAME DES DOMS D'AVIGNON

It would be difficult to say with precision whether Avignon were more

closely connected in the average mind with the former papal splendour,

with Petrarch and his Laura, or with the famous Félibrage.

Avignon literally reeks with sentimental associations of a most healthy

kind. No probable line of thought suggested by Avignon's historied and

romantic past will intimate even the mawkish, the sordid, or the banal.

It is, in almost limitless suggestion, the city of France above all

others in which to linger and drink in the life of its past and present

to one's fullest capacities.

For the "literary pilgrim," first and foremost will be Avignon's

association with Petrarch, or rather he with it. For this reason it

shall be disposed of immediately, though not in one word, or ten; that

would be impossible.

[Illustration: _Notre Dame des Doms d'Avignon_]

"'The grave of Laura!' said I. 'Indeed, my dear sir, I am obliged to you

for having mentioned it,'" were the words with which the local

bookseller was addressed by an eighteenth-century traveller. "'Otherwise

one might have gone away, to their everlasting sorrow and shame, without

having seen this curiosity of your city.'"

The same record of travel describes the guardian of this shrine as "a

converted Jew, who, from one year's end to another, has but two duties

to perform, which he most punctually attends to. The one to take care of

the grave of Laura, and to show it to strangers, the other to give them

information respecting all the curiosities. Before his conversion, he

stood at the corner by the Hôtel de Ville offering lottery tickets to

passers-by, and asking, till he was hoarse, if they had anything to

sell. Not a soul took the least notice of him. His beard proved a

detriment in all his speculations. Now that he has become a Christian,

it is wonderful how everything thrives with him."

At the very end of the Rue des Lices will be found the last remains of

the Église des Cordeliers--reduced at the Revolution to a mere tower and

its walls. Here may be seen the spot where was the tomb of Laura de

Sade. Arthur Young, writing just before the Revolution, described it as

below; though since that time still other changes have taken place, with

the result that "Laura's Grave" is little more than a memory to-day, and

a vague one at that.

"The grave is nothing but a stone in the pavement, with a figure

engraved on it already partly effaced, surrounded by an inscription in

Gothic letters, and another on the wall adjoining, with the armorial

bearings of the De Sade family."

To-day nothing but the site--the location--of the tomb is still there,

the before-mentioned details having entirely disappeared. The vault was

apparently broken open at the Revolution, and its ashes scattered. It

was here at Avignon, in the Église de St. Claire, as Petrarch himself

has recorded, that he first met Laura de Sade.

The present mood is an appropriate one in which to continue the

Petrarchian pilgrimage countryward--to the famous Vaucluse. Here

Petrarch came as a boy, in 1313, and, if one chooses, he may have his

_déjeuner_ at the _Hôtel Pétrarque et Laure_; not the same, of course,

of which Petrarch wrote in praise of its fish of Sorgues; but you will

have them as a course at lunch nevertheless. Here, too, the famed

_Fontaine_ first comes to light and air; and above it hangs "Petrarch's

Castle," which is not Petrarch's castle, nor ever was. It belonged

originally to the bishops of Cavaillon, but it is possible that Petrarch

was a guest there at various times, as we know he was at the more

magnificent _Palais des Papes_ at Avignon.

This château of the bishops hangs perilously on a brow which rises high

above the torrential _Fontaine_, and, if sentiment will not allow of its

being otherwise ignored, it is permissible to visit it, if one is so

inclined. No special hardship is involved, and no great adventure is

likely to result from this journey countryward. Tourists have been known

to do the thing before "just to get a few snapshots of the fountain."

As to why the palace of the popes came into being at Avignon is a

question which suggests the possibilities of the making of a big book.

The popes came to Avignon at the time of the Italian partition, on the

strength of having acquired a grant of the city from Joanna of Naples,

for which they were supposed to give eighty thousand golden crowns.

They never paid the bill, however; from which fact it would appear that

financial juggling was born at a much earlier period than has hitherto

been supposed.

Seven popes reigned here, from 1305 to 1370; when, on the termination of

the Schism, it became the residence of a papal legate. Subsequently

Louis XIV. seized the city, in revenge for an alleged affront to his

ambassador, and Louis XV. also held it for ten years.

The curious fact is here recalled that, by the treaty of Tolentino (12th

February, 1797), the papal power at Rome conceded formally for the first

time--to Napoleon I.--their ancient territory of Avignon. On the terms

of this treaty alone was Pope Pius allowed to remain nominal master of

even shreds of the patrimony of St. Peter.

The significant events of Avignon's history are too great in purport and

number to be even catalogued here, but the magnificent papal residence,

from its very magnitude and luxuriance, compels attention as one of the

great architectural glories, not only of France, but of all Europe as

well.

Here sat, for the major portion of the fourteenth century, the papal

court of Avignon; which the uncharitable have called a synonym for

profligacy, veniality, and luxurious degeneracy. Here, of course, were

held the conclaves by which the popes of that century were elected;

significantly they were all Frenchmen, which would seem to point to the

fact of corruption of some sort, if nothing more.

Rienzi, the last of the tribunes, was a prisoner within the walls of

this great papal stronghold, and Simone Memmi of Sienna was brought

therefrom to decorate the walls of the popes' private chapel; Petrarch

was _persona grata_ here, and many other notables were frequenters of

its hospitality.

The palace walls rise to a height of nearly ninety feet, and its

battlemented towers add another fifty; from which one may infer that its

stability was great; an effect which is still further sustained when the

great thickness of its sustaining walls is remarked, and the infrequent

piercings of windows and doorways.

This vast edifice was commenced by Pope Clement V. in the early years of

the thirteenth century, but nothing more than the foundations of his

work were left, when Benedict XII., thirty years later, gave the work

into the hands of Peter Obreri--who must have been the Viollet-le-Duc

of his time.

Revolution's destroying power played its part here, as generally

throughout France, in defacing shrines, monuments, and edifices, civil

and ecclesiastical, with little regard for sentiment and absolutely none

for reason.

The mob attacked the papal palace with results more disastrous than the

accumulated debasement of preceding centuries. The later régime, which

turned the magnificent halls of this fortress-like palace into a mere

barracks--as it is to-day--was quite as iconoclastic in its temperament.

One may realize here, to the full, just how far a great and noble

achievement of the art and devotion of a past age may sink. The ancient

papal palace at Avignon--the former seat of the power of the Roman

Catholic religion--has become a mere barracks! To contemplate it is more

sad even than to see a great church turned into a stable or an

abattoir--as can yet be seen in France.

In its plan this magnificent building preserves its outlines, but its

splendour of embellishment has very nearly been eradicated, as may be

observed if one will crave entrance of the military incumbent.

[Illustration: VILLENEUVE-. _les-AVIGNON_]

In 1376 Pope Gregory XI. left Avignon for Rome,--after him came the two

anti-popes,--and thus ended what Petrarch has called "_L'Empia

Babilonia_."

The cathedral of Notre Dame des Doms pales perceptibly before the

splendid dimensions of the papal palace, which formerly encompassed a

church of its own of much more artistic worth.

In one respect only does the cathedral lend a desirable note to the

_ensemble_. This, by reason of its commanding situation--at the apex of

the Rocher des Doms--and by the gilded statue of the Virgin which

surmounts the tower, and supplies just the right quality of colour and

life to a structure which would be otherwise far from brilliant.

From the opposite bank of the Rhône--from Villeneuve-les-Avignon--the

view of the parent city, the papal residence, the cathedral, and that

unusual southern attribute, the _beffroi_, all combine in a most

glorious picture of a superb beauty; quite rivalling--though in a far

different manner--that "plague spot of immorality,"--Monte Carlo, which

is mostly thought to hold the palm for the sheer beauty of natural

situation.

The cathedral is chiefly of the twelfth century, though even a near-by

exterior view does not suggest any of the Gothic tendencies of that era.

It is more like the heavy bungling style which came in with the

Renaissance; but it is not that either, hence it must be classed as a

unique variety, though of the period when the transition from the

Romanesque to Gothic was making inroads elsewhere.

It has been said that the structure dates in part from the time of

Charlemagne, but, if so, the usual splendid appointments of the true

Charlemagnian manner are sadly lacking. There may be constructive

foundations of the eleventh century, but they are in no way distinctive,

and certainly lend no liveliness to a building which must ever be ranked

as unworthy of the splendid environment.

As a church of cathedral rank, it is a tiny edifice when compared with

the glorious northern ground-plans: it is not much more than two hundred

feet in length, and has a width which must be considerably less than

fifty feet.

The entrance, at the top of a long, winding stair which rises from the

street-level of the Place du Palais to the platform of the rock, is

essentially pagan in its aspect; indeed it is said to have previously

formed the portal of a pagan temple which at one time stood upon the

site. If this be so, this great doorway--for it is far larger in its

proportions than any other detail--is the most ancient of all the

interior or exterior features.

The high pediment and roof may be pointed Gothic, or it may not; at any

rate, it is in but the very rudimentary stage. Authorities do not agree;

which carries the suggestion still further that the cathedral at Avignon

is of itself a queer, hybrid thing in its style, and with not a tithe of

the interest possessed by its more magnificent neighbour.

The western tower, while not of great proportions, is rather more

massive than the proportions of the church body can well carry. What

decoration it possesses carries the pagan suggestion still further, with

its superimposed fluted pillars and Corinthian columns.

The gloomy interior is depressing in the extreme, and whatever

attributes of interest that it has are largely discounted by their

unattractive setting.

There are a number of old paintings, which, though they are not the work

of artists of fame, might possibly prove to be of creditable

workmanship, could one but see them through the gloom. In the

before-mentioned porch are some frescoes by Simone Memmi, executed by

him in the fourteenth century, when he came from Sienna to do the

decorations in the palace.

The side chapels are all of the fourteenth century; that of St. Joseph,

now forming the antechamber of the sacristy, contains a noteworthy

Gothic tomb and monument of Pope John XXII. It is much mutilated to-day,

and is only interesting because of the personality connected therewith.

The custodian or caretaker is in this case a most persistently voluble

person, who will give the visitor little peace unless he stands by and

hears her story through, or flees the place,--which is preferable.

The niches of this highly florid Gothic tomb were despoiled of their

statues at the Revolution, and the recumbent effigy of the Pope has been

greatly disfigured. A much simpler monument, and one quite as

interesting, to another Pope, Benedict XII.,--he who was responsible for

the magnificence of the papal palace,--is in a chapel in the north aisle

of the nave, but the _cicerone_ has apparently no pride in this

particular shrine.

An ancient (pagan?) altar is preserved in the nave. It is not

beautiful, but it is undoubtedly very ancient and likewise very curious.

The chief accessory of interest for all will doubtless prove to be the

twelfth-century papal throne. It is of a pure white marble, rather cold

to contemplate, but livened here and there with superimposed gold

ornament. What decoration there is, chiefly figures representing the

bull of St. Luke and the lion of St. Mark, is simple and severe, as

befitted papal dignity. To-day it serves the archbishop of the diocese

as his throne of dignity, and must inspire that worthy with ambitious

hopes.

The chapter of the cathedral at Avignon--as we learn from history--wears

purple, in company with cardinals and kings, at all celebrations of the

High Mass of Clara de Falkenstein. From a well-worn vellum quarto in the

library at Avignon one may read the legend which recounts the connection

of Ste. Clara de Mont Falcone with the mystery of the Holy Trinity; from

which circumstance the honour and dignity of the purple has been granted

to the prelates of the cathedral.

No mention of Avignon, or of Arles, or of Nîmes could well be made

without a reference to the revival of Provençal literature brought about

by the famous "Félibrage," that brotherhood founded by seven poets, of

whom Frederic Mistral is the most popularly known.

The subject is too vast, and too vastly interesting to be slighted here,

so perforce mere mention must suffice.

The word Félibre was suggested by Mistral, who found it in an old hymn.

Its etymology is uncertain, but possibly it is from the Greek, meaning

"a lover of the beautiful."

The original number of the Félibres was seven, and they first met on the

fête-day of Ste. Estelle; in whose honour they adopted the seven-pointed

star as their emblem. Significantly, the number seven has much to do

with the Félibres and Avignon alike. The enthusiastic Félibre tells of

Avignon's seven churches, its seven gates, seven colleges, seven

hospitals, and seven popes--who reigned at Avignon for seven decades;

and further that the word Félibre has seven letters, as, also, has the

name of Mistral, one of its seven founders--who took seven years in

writing his epics.

[Illustration: NOTRE DAME _des DOMS d'AVIGNON_]

The machicolated walls, towers, and gateways of Avignon, which

protected the city in mediæval times, and--history tells us--sheltered

twice as many souls as now, are in a remarkable state of preservation

and completeness, and rank foremost among the masterworks of

fortification of their time. This outer wall, or _enceinte_, was built

at the instigation of Clement VI., in 1349, and was the work of but

fourteen years.

A hideously decorated building opposite the papal palace--now the

_Conservatoire de Musique_--was formerly the papal mint.

The ruined bridge of St. Bénezet, built in the twelfth century, is a

remarkable example of the engineering skill of the time. Surmounting the

four remaining arches--still perfect as to their configuration--is a

tiny chapel dedicated to St. Nicholas, which formerly contained

_reliques_ of St. Bénezet.

The extraordinary circumstance which led up to the building of this

bridge seems legendary, to say the least.

It is recorded that St. Bénezet, its founder, who was a mere shepherd,

became inspired by God to undertake this great work. The inspiration

must likewise have brought with it not a little of the uncommon skill of

the bridge-builder, and, considering the extent and scope of the

projected work, something of the spirit of benefaction as well.

The foundation was laid in 1171, and it was completed, after seventeen

years of labour, in 1188.

On this bridge, near the entrance to the city, was erected a hospital of

religious persons, who were denominated _Les Frères du Pont_, their

offices being to preserve the fabric, and to afford succour to all

manner of travellers.

The boldness and utility of this undertaking,--it being the only means

of communication between Avignon and the French territory beyond the

Rhône,--as well as the permanency assured to it by the annexing of a

religious foundation, cannot fail to grant to the memory of its holy

founder something more than a due share of veneration on behalf of his

genius and perspicacity.

XI

ST. SIFFREIN DE CARPENTRAS

The tiny city of Carpentras, most picturesquely situated on the equally

diminutive river Auzon which enters the Rhône between Orange and

Avignon, was a Roman colony under Augustus, and a bishopric under St.

Valentin in the third century.

A suffragan of Avignon, the papal city, the see was suppressed in 1790.

The Bishops of Carpentras, it would appear, were a romantic and

luxury-loving line of prelates, though this perhaps is aught against

their more devout virtues.

They had a magnificent palace overhanging the famous "Fountain of

Vaucluse," and repaired thither in mediæval times for the relaxation

which they evidently much appreciated. They must have been veritable

patrons of literature and the arts, as Petrarch and his fellows-in-art

were frequently of their household.

The ancient cathedral of St. Siffrein is dedicated to a former bishop of

Carpentras, who died in the sixth century.

As this church now stands, its stones are mainly of the early sixteenth

century. The west façade is entirely without character, and is pierced

at the pavement with a gross central doorway flanked by two others; poor

copies of the _Greco-Romain_ style, which, in many of its original

forms, was certainly more pleasing than here. Each of these smaller

doorways have for their jambs two beautifully toned columns of red

jasper, from a baptistère of which there are still extensive remains at

Venasque near by.

This baptistère, by the way, and its neighbouring Romanesque and Gothic

church, is quite worth the energy of making the journey countryward,

eleven kilometres from Carpentras, to see.

It is nominally of the tenth century, but is built up from fragments of

a former Temple to Venus, and its situation amid the rocks and tree-clad

hilltops of the Nesque valley is most agreeable.

The portal on the south side--though, for a fact, it hardly merits the

dignity of such a classification--is most ornately sculptured. A figure

of the Virgin, in the doorway, it locally known as Notre Dame des

Neiges.

Much iconographic symbolism is to be found in this doorway, capable of

various plausible explanations which shall not be attempted here.

It must suffice to say that nowhere in this neighbourhood, indeed

possibly not south of the Loire, is so varied and elaborate a collection

of symbolical stone-carving to be seen.

There is no regularly completed tower to St. Siffrein, but a still

unachieved tenth-century _clocher_ in embryo attaches itself on the

south.

The interior presents the general effect of Gothic, and, though of late

construction, is rather of the primitive order.

There are no aisles, but one single nave, very wide and very high, while

the apse is very narrow, with lateral chapels.

Against the western wall are placed four paintings; not worthy of

remark, perhaps, except for their great size. They are of the

seventeenth or eighteenth century. A private corridor, or gallery, leads

from this end of the church to the episcopal palace, presumably for the

sole use of the bishops and their guests. The third chapel on the right

is profusely decorated and contains a valuable painting by Dominique de

Carton. Another contains a statue of the Virgin, of the time of Louis

XIV., and is very beautiful.

A tomb of Bishop Laurent Buti (d. 1710) is set against the wall, where

the apse adjoins the nave.

Rearward on the high-altar is a fine painting by an unknown artist of

the Italian school.

The old-time cathedral of St. Siffrein was plainly not of the

poverty-stricken class, as evinced by the various accessories and

details of ornamentation mentioned above. It had, moreover, in

conjunction with it, a most magnificent and truly palatial episcopal

residence, built by a former cardinal-bishop, Alexandri Bichi, in 1640.

To-day it serves the functions of the _Palais de Justice_ and a prison;

in the latter instance certainly a fall from its hitherto high estate.

Built about by this ancient residence of the prelates of the Church is

also yet to be seen, in much if not quite all of its pristine glory, a

_Gallo-Romain arc de Triomphe_ of considerable proportions and much

beauty of outline and ornament.

As to period, Prosper Mérimée, to whom the preservation of the ancient

monuments of France is largely due, has said that it is contemporary

with its compeer at Orange (first or second century).

The Porte d'Orange, in the Grande Rue, is the only _relique_ left at

Carpentras of the ancient city ramparts built in the fourteenth century

by Pope Innocent VI.

XII

CATHÉDRALE DE VAISON

The Provençal town of Vaison, like Carpentras and Cavaillon, is really

of the basin of the Rhône, rather than of the region of the snow-crowned

Alps which form its background. It is of little interest to-day as a

cathedral city, though the see dates from a foundation of the fourth

century, by St. Aubin, until the suppression of 1790.

Its former cathedral is hardly the equal of many others which have

supported episcopal dignity, but it has a few accessories and attributes

which make it notable.

Its nave is finely vaulted, and there is an eleventh-century cloister,

which flanks the main body of the church on the left, which would be

remarked under any circumstances.

The cloister, though practically a ruin,--but a well preserved

one,--shows in its construction many beautiful Gallo-Romain and early

Gothic columns which are exceedingly beautiful in their proportions. In

this cloister, also, are some fragments of early Christian tombs, which

will offer unlimited suggestion to the archæologist, but which to the

lover of art and architecture are quite unappealing.

The _Église St. Quinin_ is a conglomerate edifice which has been built

up, in part, from a former church which stood on the same site in the

seventh century. It is by no means a great architectural achievement as

it stands to-day, but is highly interesting because of its antiquity. In

the cathedral the chief article of real artistic value is a _bénitier_,

made from the capital of a luxurious Corinthian column. One has seen

sun-dials and drinking-fountains made from pedestals and sarcophagi

before--and the effect has not been pleasing, and smacks not only of

vandalism, but of a debased ideal of art, but this column-top, which has

been transformed into a _bénitier_, cannot be despised.

The _bête-noir_ of all this region, and of Vaison in particular,--if one

is to believe local sentiment,--is the high sweeping wind, which at

certain seasons blows in a tempestuous manner. The habitant used to say

that "_le mistral, le Parlement, et Durance sont les trois fléaux de

Provence_."

[Illustration]

XIII

ST. TROPHIME D'ARLES

"In all the world that which interests me most is _La Fleur des

'Glais'_ ... It is a fine plant.... It is the same as the _Fleurs

des Lis d'Or_ of the arms of France and of Provence."

--FREDERIC MISTRAL.

[Illustration: ST. TROPHIME _d'ARLES_ ...]

Two French writers of repute have recently expressed their admiration of

the marvellous country, and the contiguous cities, lying about the mouth

of the Rhône; among which are Nîmes, Aigues-Mortes, and--of far greater

interest and charm--Arles. Their opinions, perhaps, do not differ very

greatly from those of most travellers, but both Madame Duclaux, in

"The Fields of France," and René Bazin, in his _Récits de la Plaine et

de la Montagne_, give no palm, one to the other, with respect to their

feeling for "the mysterious charm of Arles."

It is significant that in this region, from Vienne on the north to Arles

and Nîmes in the south, are found such a remarkable series of Roman

remains as to warrant the statement by a French antiquarian that "in

Rome itself are no such temples as at Vienne and Nîmes, no theatres so

splendidly preserved as that at Orange,--nor so large as that of

Arles,--and that the magnificent ruined colosseum on the Tiber in no

wise has the perfections of its compeer at Nîmes, nor has any triumphal

arch the splendid decorations of that at Reims in the champagne

country."

With these facts in view it is well to recall that many non-Christian

influences asserted themselves from time to time, and overshadowed for a

temporary period those which were more closely identified with the

growth of the Church. The Commission des Monuments Historiques catalogue

sixteen notable monuments in Arles which are cared for by them: the

Amphitheatre, the remains of the Forum,--now built into the façade of

the Hôtel du Nord,--the remains of the Palais de Constantin, the Abbey

of Montmajour, and the one-time cathedral of St. Trophime, and its

cloister--to particularize but a few.

To-day, as anciently, the ecclesiastical province is known as that of

Aix, Arles, and Embrun. Arles, however, for a time took its place as an

archbishopric, though to-day it joins hands again with Aix and Embrun;

thus, while enjoying the distinction of being ranked as an

archbishopric, its episcopal residence is at Aix.

It was at Arles that the first, and only, English pope--Adrian

Breakspeare--first entered a monastic community, after having been

refused admission to the great establishment at St. Albans in

Hertfordshire, his native place. Here, by the utmost diligence, he

acquired the foundation of that great learning which resulted in his

being so suddenly proclaimed the wearer of the tiara, in 1154.

St. Trophime came to Arles in the first century, and became the first

bishop of the diocese. The first church edifice on this site was

consecrated in 606 by St. Virgil, under the vocable of St. Etienne. In

1152 the present church was built over the remains of St. Trophime,

which were brought thither from St. Honorat des Alyscamps. So far as the

main body of the church is concerned, it was completed by the end of the

twelfth century, and only in its interior is shown the development of

the early ogival style.

The structure was added to in 1430, when the Gothic choir was extended

eastward.

The aisles are diminutively narrow, and the window piercings throughout

are exceedingly small; all of which makes for a lack of brilliancy and

gloom, which may be likened to the average crypt. The only radiance

which ever penetrates this gloomy interior comes at high noon, when the

refulgence of a Mediterranean sun glances through a series of long

lancets, and casts those purple shadows which artists love. Then, and

then only, does the cathedral of St. Trophime offer any inducement to

linger within its non-impressive walls.

The exterior view is, too, dull and gloomy--what there is of it to be

seen from the Place Royale. By far the most lively view is that obtained

from across the ruins of the magnificent Roman theatre just at the rear.

Here the time-resisting qualities of secular Roman buildings combine

with the cathedral to present a bright, sunny, and appealing picture

indeed.

St. Trophime is in no sense an unworthy architectural expression. As a

Provençal type of the Romanesque,--which it is mostly,--it must be

judged as quite apart from the Gothic which has crept in to but a slight

extent.

The western portal is very beautiful, and, with cloister, as interesting

and elaborate as one could wish.

It is the generality of an unimposing plan, a none too graceful tower

and its uninteresting interior, that qualifies the richness of its more

luxurious details.

The portal of the west façade greatly resembles another at St. Gilles,

near by. It is a profusely ornamented doorway with richly foliaged stone

carving and elaborate _bas-reliefs_.

The tympanum of the doorway contains the figure of a bishop in

sacerdotal costume, doubtless St. Trophime, flanked by winged angels and

lions. The sculptures here date perhaps from the period contemporary

with the best work at Paris and Chartres,--well on into the Middle

Ages,--when sculpture had not developed or perfected its style, but was

rather a bad copy of the antique. This will be notably apparent when the

stiffness and crudeness of the proportions of the figures are taken into

consideration.

[Illustration: _Cloisters, St. Trophime d'Arles_]

The wonderful cloister of St. Trophime is, on the east side, of

Romanesque workmanship, with barrel vaulting, and dates from 1120. On

the west it is of the transition style of a century later, while on the

north the vaulting springs boldly into the Gothic of that period--well

on toward 1400.

The capitals of the pillars of this cloistered courtyard are most

diverse, and picture in delicately carved stone such scenes of Bible

history and legend as the unbelief of St. Thomas, Ste. Marthe and the

Tarasque, etc. It is a curious _mélange_ of the vagaries of the stone

carver of the Middle Ages,--these curiously and elaborately carved

capitals,--but on the whole the _ensemble_ is one of rare beauty, in

spite of non-Christian and pagan accessories. These show at least how

far superior the classical work of that time was to the later

Renaissance.

The cemetery of Arles, locally known as Les Alyscamps, literally teems

with mediæval and ancient funeral monuments; though many, of course,

have been removed, and many have suffered the ravages of time, to say

nothing of the Revolutionary period. One portion was the old pagan

burial-ground, and another--marked off with crosses--was reserved for

Christian burial.

It must have been accounted most holy ground, as the dead were brought

thither for burial from many distant cities.

Danté mentions it in the "Inferno," Canto IX.:

"Just as at Arles where the Rhône is stagnant The sepulchres make

all the ground unequal."

Ariosto, in "Orlando Furioso," remarks it thus:

"Many sepulchres are in this land."

St. Rémy, a few leagues to the northeast of Arles, is described by all

writers as wonderfully impressive and appealing to all who come within

its spell;--though the guide-books all say that it is a place without

importance.

René Bazin has this to say: "_St. Rémy, ce n'est pas beau, ce St.

Rémy_." Madame Duclaux apostrophizes thus: "We fall at once in love with

St. Rémy." With this preponderance of modern opinion we throw in our lot

as to the charms of St. Rémy; and so it will be with most, whether with

regard to its charming environment or its historical monuments, its

arch, or its funeral memorials. One will only come away from this

charming _petite ville_ with the idea that, in spite of its five

thousand present-day inhabitants, it is something more than a modern

shrine which has been erected over a collection of ancient relics. The

little city breathes the very atmosphere of mediævalism.

[Illustration]

XIV

ST. CASTOR DE NÎMES

Like its neighbouring Roman cities, Nîmes lives mostly in the glorious

past.

In attempting to realize--if only in imagination--the civilization of a

past age, one is bound to bear always in mind the _motif_ which caused

any great art expression to take place.

Here at Nîmes the church builder had much that was magnificent to

emulate, leaving style apart from the question.

[Illustration: _St. Castor de Nîmes_]