THE beautiful buildings of the North of France are as well known to all English lovers of architecture as many of the edifices of our own country, and every one is more or less acquainted with them.

The various styles which have prevailed there—whether Gothic or Renaissance, Ecclesiastical, Castellated or Domestic—have all been fully illustrated and rendered familiar by numerous admirable works, both French and English. Besides, being so near our own shores, and lying as it does, between England and Paris, this part of the country is easily accessible, and is much visited by English tourists and students of architecture.

The various styles of Northern France, too, have many points of resemblance to those on this side of the channel; and there thus exists a feeling of sympathy between the two which renders the study of both, and a comparison of their similarities and differences, particularly interesting to the English observer.

All these circumstances have contributed to make the great cathedrals of Amiens, Beauvais, Rouen, Rheims, and Chartres familiar and attractive; while the picturesque towns of Northern France, with their quaint half-timbered houses, and the no less picturesque costumes of the inhabitants, are constantly brought before us in the charming representations of our artists.

The ancient castles of Normandy and Northern France, such as the ChÂteaux d’Arques, Gaillard, and Falaise, are as closely connected with English as French history; and as the dwellings of our Plantaganet Kings, and the scene of many important events in their lives, they claim even more attention at our hands than they have yet received.

But the South of France is a comparatively unknown country. It is much less frequented by our countrymen than the North, and its buildings and scenery rarely form the subject of our artists’ paintings. It is indeed true that a very large number of English people winter in the Riviera or at Pau; but these visitors are all desirous to perform their migration at a single flight, and to move, as by a magic spell, unconscious of the horrors of the middle passage, from the gloom of the dreary winter of England to the bright sunshine and lovely landscape of the South. That this should be the case is perhaps scarcely to be wondered at, so many of the visitors being themselves delicate or in company with invalids. But for their own sakes it is much to be regretted, as they thus pass through a great deal of fine and novel scenery without observing it, and catch but a passing glimpse of some of the most ancient and interesting cities, churches, and castles in Europe. It must, however, be confessed that the intervening district between the North and South is not a pleasant region in mid-winter. Between Lyons and Marseilles the cold is frequently very intense, and the whole valley of the Rhone suffers from the fierce and bitter “mistral” which sweeps down it from the region of the Cevennes Mountains on the north-west. To enjoy a tour in the valley of the Rhone on the way out to the Riviera one must start earlier than usual, so as to make the October weather available, or delay till the return journey in spring.

The Englishman travelling southwards for the first time is chiefly struck with the entire change in the aspect of the scenery, the vegetation, the style of the buildings, the colour of the soil and hills, the brilliant sunshine, and the clear blue sky, which everywhere meet the view in descending the Rhone. This is especially the case in going south by the night train from Paris. Soon after leaving Lyons daylight commences, when the traveller awakes to find himself in a new zone. All the surroundings are transformed: instead of the sombre sun and foggy atmosphere of the North, he enjoys the bright light and breathes the clear air of the South, and finds around him, instead of bare trees and frozen herbage, vineyards and gardens still rich with the lovely tinted foliage of autumn.

The buildings in these gardens and fields particularly strike the eye of the architect. They are so unlike what he has been accustomed to, and left behind only a few hours ago. The houses of timber-framed work, with their steep roofs covered with slates or flat tiles, and the snug homesteads of England and the North of France, have entirely vanished; and in their stead only small square or oblong erections are to be seen scattered here and there through the fields, with plastered and tinted walls, and covered with tiled roofs of the ribbed Italian pattern, all laid at flat slopes, and generally having one side of the roof much longer than the other.

At Avignon the change of aspect is even more complete. “On arriving at Avignon,” says Prosper MÉrimÉe, “it appeared to me that I had left France behind. Landing from the steamboat I had not been prepared by a gradual transition for the novelty of the spectacle which presented itself; the language, the costumes, the aspect of the country, everything appears strange to one coming from the centre of France. I believed myself in the middle of a Spanish town. The crenellated walls, the towers furnished with machicolations, the country covered with olives and plants of a tropical vegetation, recalled Valencia, &c.”

Not less great than the differences in climate and in the aspects of nature, are those of the arts of the North and South; and these diversities in nature and art, although now all embraced within the compass of one great and united country, are indications of the political differences which, in former times, existed between the various portions of it. The growth of France as a kingdom has been slow and gradual. Not to refer to changes which have occurred in our own times to modify the extent of her surface, it should be remembered that Provence was no part of France till the fifteenth century. It was not till 1481, in the time of Louis XI., that Provence passed under the rule of the King of France.

During the earlier and more important epochs of the architectural revolutions in that province, it formed an independent State, and was in advance, in art and literature, of its northern neighbours. In considering the history of its architecture, it is important that this should be kept clearly in view. We shall see, as we glance rapidly over the history of the Southern provinces, that, in most respects, the development of the civilisation of the South differs from that of the Northern kingdom, and that the growth of the architecture naturally follows the progress of the respective countries. The art of the South, although it reached maturity earlier than that of the North, was also the first to decay; and, as the Northern Franks spread their arms over the South, and bit by bit got possession of the land, so their noble and vigorous style of architecture accompanied them, and, to a great extent, superseded the older and more finished, but less expansive, styles of the southern provinces.

But the country we are dealing with has a history which extends back for hundreds of years before the names of Gaul or France were heard of. This region has in all ages formed a centre for the reception of the culture and arts of the various nations of the Mediterranean, and from which these have again been radiated to the remoter countries of the West. Its reminiscences thus carry us back to the dawn of history, some three thousand years ago, when we find the coast in the hands of the Phoenician navigators, by whose commercial and naval activity it could not fail to be greatly influenced. To the Phoenicians succeeded the Greeks, who colonised the country, and infused into it that spirit of Grecian culture and art of which it was long the home. The Romans next took possession of the land, and, under their dominion, it became a favourite province, and was lavishly enriched with the productions of the magnificent architecture of the Empire.

Amidst the horrors of the barbarian irruptions which followed the fall of the Empire, this fortunate province succeeded in maintaining some relics of Roman civilisation; and when the dawn began to appear after the terrible night of the Dark Ages, it was amongst the first to show signs of life and revival. In the South, song and literature, encouraged by contact with the Saracens of Spain, sprang up and flourished ere, in the North, the struggle for existence had produced a settled condition in the land. Here too the Christian Church took an early and firm hold, and has left interesting traces of its sacred edifices of very early date. It was here also that the primitive monastic societies of the West preserved the learning and enlightenment whereby the nations were subsequently revived and illumined. During the Middle Ages we shall likewise find that this remarkable region still retained its distinctive attitude as a centre of artistic and commercial energy between the East and the West. It occupied in this respect, during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, a very remarkable position, and was at that time the scene of action of some of the chief political and religious movements in the West of Europe.

While connected as a fief with the “Holy Roman Empire,” it was also in close proximity to the growing power of France on the north, and to Spain and Italy on the south. For a time indeed it was under the suzerainty of Aragon, and was thus brought into contact with the science and arts of the Moors in Spain. From Italy again it received an impulse from the energy of the growing Republics of that country; while it also felt only too terribly and effectively the sway and power of the Pope. At the same time it became the chief entrepÔt of the growing traffic from the East, and the highway by which the artistic and other products of the Levant were dispersed through France and the North of Europe.

The importance of this region was at that period immense, but in course of time it gradually diminished, until at length the tide of influence became reversed. The increasing power of France overshadowed the South, and the policy and arts of the North gradually encroached upon and finally absorbed it.

Having to investigate the architecture of a region so rich in historic and artistic records, it may be well, before considering its monuments in detail, to glance a little more fully at the historic conditions under which the various styles we shall meet with were produced and developed. We shall thus be the better able to understand and appreciate their place and significance in connection with the growth of the architecture.