SOME CHURCHES OF LE PUY EN VELAY AND AUVERGNE
(From the _Transactions_ of the R. I. B. A. 1889)
In the course of last autumn,[28] after having spent three weeks in climbing Swiss mountains, I was able to devote a few days, on my way home, to a district which, as far as I had been able to gather from books, appeared to contain a mine of interest for the architect, not less than for the geologist and the lover of natural scenery. From Lyon I went by Monistrol to Le Puy, which was the grand object of my tour; thence by Brioude into Auvergne, and through Issoire, Clermont-Ferrand and Nevers, to Bourges and Paris. I was so much struck by what I saw, that, though I am well aware that my visit was too hurried to be at all exhaustive, I think I cannot do better than give you the results of my journey, in the trust that what was full of interest, novelty, and instruction for myself, may be of some use also to others who have not been able to make this journey for themselves. The complete-Gothic architecture of Velay and Auvergne is not, it is true, to be compared to the best work in the north of France. I am not, however, going to tell you about it, but about an earlier style, which, as I hope to show, has special value as illustrating, among other things, the way in which French Gothic was developed from Romanesque and Byzantine buildings; and our attention will, therefore, be almost entirely devoted to buildings which are either Romanesque or Romano-Byzantine in their character, or belonging to the period of transition from those styles to first-pointed. The complete-Gothic buildings are comparatively few, and have no special value; and I shall, probably, not have time now to refer to them even in the most cursory manner.
I will begin with Le Puy, the ancient capital of Velay. The city is crowded up the side of a volcanic rock, one end of which is crowned by the picturesque mass of its Eastern-looking cathedral. It consists of a network of narrow streets not passable by carriages, and reminds one forcibly of some such city as Genoa. Above the rock on which the cathedral is perched rises another, called the _Corneille_, on which are some old fortifications, and which has just been crowned by a monstrous image of the Blessed Virgin, made of the metal of guns taken at Sebastopol, to whose charge I may fairly lay much of the imperfection of my account of the buildings beneath her feet; for I had the ill-luck to arrive at Le Puy only three days before the inauguration of this statue, and I found the whole city so entirely occupied with the preparations for the fête, that it was with the greatest difficulty that I examined the cathedral at all, and into some portions of it I was quite unable to penetrate; whilst the only condition on which I could obtain rooms at an inn was that I should not stop for more than two days, and should make room for some bishop, prince, or cardinal (of whom there were a legion on the road), before the great fête-day. I had to work very hard, therefore, to do as much as I did, and I make no doubt that a more leisurely and uninterrupted examination would have enabled me to discover and do much more. Separated from the great volcanic rock I have already mentioned by one or two furlongs only, is the smaller, but even more striking rock, called the _Aiguille de S. Michel_, and crowned with a little chapel dedicated to that Archangel. It rises, in the most abrupt and precipitous manner, to a height of about 265 feet. The distant background includes a series of truncated conical hills, evidently ancient volcanoes, and from almost every point of view a landscape of the most picturesque and extensive description is seen. Rarely have I enjoyed a more charming ride than that which, for the last twenty miles into Le Puy on the road from S. Étienne, made me generally acquainted with the remarkable physical formation of this mountain district; beautiful throughout, it was at its best just when, some twelve or fifteen miles before I reached the city, I first saw the “angelic” church, as it is styled, standing up boldly on its rock, the centre of an almost matchless landscape.