Brittany & Its Byways
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Title: Brittany & Its Byways
Author: Mrs. Bury Palliser
Release date: September 21, 2007 [eBook #22700]
Most recently updated: June 20, 2020
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22700
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRITTANY & ITS BYWAYS ***
Brittany & Its Byways
by Fanny Bury Palliser
Edition 02 , (November 9, 2007)
BRITTANY & ITS BYWAYS
SOME ACCOUNT OF
ITS INHABITANTS AND ITS ANTIQUITIES;
DURING A RESIDENCE IN THAT COUNTRY.
BY MRS. BURY PALLISER
[Illustration: Vignette: St. Michael’s Mount]
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
------------------
London
1869
CONTENTS
Contents.
List of Illustrations.
Britanny and Its Byways.
Some Useful Dates in the History of Brittany.
Chronological Table of the Dukes of Brittany.
Index.
Transcribers’ Notes
CONTENTS.
--------------
CHERBOURG—Mont du Roule—Visit of Queen Victoria—Harbour,
1—Breakwater—Dock-Yard, 2—Chantereyne—Hôpital de la Marine,
3—Castle—Statue of Napoleon I.—Library—Church of La Trinité,
4—Environs—Octeville, 5—Lace-school of the Sœurs de la Providence, 11.
QUERQUEVILLE—Church of St. Germain, 5—Château of the Comte de Tocqueville,
6.
TOURLAVILLE—Château, 7—Crêpes, 11.
MARTINVAST—Château, 12.
BRICQUEBEC—Castle—History, 12—Valognes, 14.
ST. SAUVEUR-le-Vicomte—Demesne—History, 15—Castle—Convent—Abbey, 16.
PÉRIERS, 17—La Haye-du-Puits, 17—Abbey of Lessay—Mode of
Washing—Inn-signs, 18—Church, 19.
COUTANCES—Cathedral—Churches, 19—Fête of St. Fiacre, 20.
GRANVILLE—Situation—History—Church, 21—View from the
"Roc"—Bathing-machines—Defeat of the Vendean army—Death of La
Rochejacquelin, 22—Costume of the Women—Environs—St. Pair, 23.
AVRANCHES—Extensive View—Scene of Absolution of Henry II.—Cemetery, 24.
PONTORSON—Story of the Lady Typhaine, 24—Government by Du Guesclin—Mont
St. Michel, 25—Chapel of St. Aubert—Visits of English kings—Pilgrimages of
Kings of France, 26—Convent of "La Merveille," 27—Isle of La
Tombeleine—Prison, 28—The Iron Cage, 29.
DOL-DE-BRETAGNE—Street Architecture, 30—Cathedral, 31—Tomb of Bishop
James—Chapel of St. Samson, 32—Monks, 33—Dyke, 34—Menhir, 35—Château of
Combourg, 36—Chateaubriand, 37.
CANCALE—Oysters, 37—Wretched public vehicles, 38—Bay, 39.
ST. MALO—Situation, 39—Sea-wall, 40—Tomb of Chateaubriand—Memorials of
him, 41—Watch-dogs, 42—Castle—History, 43—DINARD, 44.
DINAN—Ascent of the Rance—Statue of Du Guesclin, 44—Siege of 1359—Duel of
Du Guesclin and Thomas of Cantorbéry, 45—Castle of Montfilant—Story of
Gilles de Bretagne, 46—Lunatic Asylum—Castle of Dinan, 50—Church of St.
Sauveur, 51—Museum, 52—Environs—Château of La Bellière, 54—Château of La
Garaye—Count Claude de la Garaye and his Wife, 57—Jugon, 61—Castle of La
Hunaudaye, 62—Legend of La Hunaudaye, 63—Forest of La Hunaudaye—The Chouan
War, 66.
LAMBALLE—Jeanne la Boiteuse—War of Succession, 67—Temple of Lanleff,
68—Tradition of the blood-spots, 70.
ST. BRIEUC—Palais de Justice—Tour de Cesson, 71—Church of Notre
Dame—Review of his army by James II. of England, 72.
GUINGAMP—Situation—Fishing in the Trieux—Sanctuary of Notre Dame du Bon
Secours—"Frérie blanche," 72—Fountain of Duke Peter—Women of
Guingamp—Knitting and spinning—Ransom for Du Guesclin, 74—Chapel of St.
Leonard patron saint of prisoners—Curious charms against fever, 75.
PAIMPOL—Château de Boisgelin, 75—Abbey of Beauport, 76—Situation of
Paimpol—Suspension-bridge of Lézardrieux, 80—Château of La Roche Jagu, 81.
PONTRIEUX—Castle of La Roche Derrien, 82—"War of the two Jeannes"—Church
of Langoat—Monument of Ste. Pompée, 83—Burial customs—Excellence of roads
in Brittany, 84.
KERMARTIN—St. Ives, 84—Inscription at his birthplace—Interior of a Breton
dwelling, 86—Church of Minihy-Tréguier—Will of St. Ives, 87.
TRÉGUIER—Cathedral—Burial-place of St. Ives, 88—Constable Clisson,
89—Cemetery, 90—Skull-boxes, 91.
LANNION—Difficulty of the road, 91—Perros Guirec—Ploumanach—Roche Pendue,
92—Situation of Lannion—Fishery—Sea-weed gathering, 94—Castle of
Touquédec, 95—Château of Kergrist, 96.
MORLAIX—Situation—Timbered houses, 97—History, 98—Breton characteristics,
99—Protestant Missions, 100—"Fontaine des Anglais," 102—River Scenery,
103.
ST. POL DE LÉON, 103—Religious Monuments—Character of the Léonnais,
104—Church of Notre Dame de Creizker—Legend of St. Génévroc,
105—Cathedral, 106—St. Pol and the Dragon, 109—Ursuline Convent—"Droit de
Motte," 110.
ROSCOFF—Contraband trade with England—Vegetable produce, 111—Historic
importance, 112—Church—Island of Batz—Enormous old fig-tree, 113.
ST. THÉGONNEC STATION—Cabaret—Church, 114—Guimiliau Church—Sculptures,
115—Calvary, 116—Buckwheat, 117—Castle and Church of La Roche Maurice,
118.
BREST—Situation, 118—Harbour, 119—Church of the Folgoët—Legend,
120—Kersanton stone, 122—Sculptures in Kersanton stone, 123—The Fool’s
Well, 124—Exterior of Church, 125—Churchyard, 127—Monthly Fair of
Brest—Peasants’ Costumes, 133.
FINISTÈRE—Abbey of St. Mathieu, 129—Sea-fights, 130—Pont Launay and
Châteaulin, 134.
QUIMPER, 135—Legend of St. Corentin, 137—Cathedral, 139—National costume,
140.
CONCARNEAU, 142—Sardine Fishery, 143—Aquarium, 147—Dolmen and
Rocking-stone of Trégunc—Château of Rustéphan, 149—Valley of Pontaven,
150.
QUIMPERLÉ—Fishing, 151—Buildings—Tomb of St. Gurloës, 152—Tomb of John de
Montfort—Ruins of St. Columban, 153—Dirtiness of the Bretons—Animals and
Farm produce—Butter Indulgence, 154.
LORIENT—Bisson and the Pirates, 155.
HENNEBONT—Heroic defence by Jeanne de Flandre, 156—Church of Notre
Dame-de-Paradis, 157.
STE. ANNE D’AURAY, 158—Scala Sancta—Fête, 159—Chartreuse, 160—Battle,
161—Deaf and Dumb School, 164—Massacre of Quiberon, 165—Champ des Martyrs,
168—Celtic Remains, 169.
LOCMARIAKER—Tumulus—Celtic and other Remains, 170—Tumulus of Gavr’ Inis,
175.
CARNAC—Celtic Remains—Menhirs of Kermario, 177—Legend of St. Cornély,
178—Jade Celts, &c., at Plouharnel, 180—Dolmen of Concorro, 181.
VANNES—History—Promenade, 183—Cathedral, 184—Château Gaillau—Tour du
Connétable, 185—Model Village of Korner-hoët, 187—Peninsula of Rhuys,
188—Fortress of Sucinio, 189—Abbey of St. Gildas, 192—Abelard and the
Breton Monks, 193—The Breton "Blue Beard," 194—Butte d’Arzon—Castle of
Elven, 199—Growth of Chestnuts, 203.
PLOËRMEL, 203—Church, 204—Tombs, 205—Column of the Thirty, 206—Battle of
the Thirty, 207—Château of Josselin, 209—Church of Josselin, 213.
MONTFORT-SUR-MER—Forest of Paimpont—Fairy tales, 215.
RENNES, ancient capital of Brittany—Entry of Henry IV.—Scenery of the
Loire, 216—Castle of Champtoceaux, 218.
NANTES—Cathedral, 221—Tombs, 222—Castle—Anne of Brittany, 223—Promenades
and Boulevards—Museum, 227—Jardin des Plantes—Descent of the Loire—The
Noyades, 228.
ST. NAZAIRE—Historical associations, 230—Le Croisic, 232—Salt-pans,
233—Costume of the Paludiers, 234—Saulniers—Chouan: origin of the name and
of the War, 241—Church of Batz, 243—Situation of Le Croisic, 244—Chapel of
St. Goustan, 245.
GUÉRANDE—Church of St Aubin—Chapel of Notre Dame Blanche, 246—La Roche
Bernard, 247—Wedding Festivities, 248—National Music—Female Costume—Fête
de la Vierge and of the Emperor, 249—Scenery of the River Loch, 250.
BELLE ISLE—Le Palais—M. Trochu’s Model Farm, 251—Breton fatalism,
252—Grotte du Port Coton, 255—Historical associations of Belle Isle,
256—Fishery, 257.
PONT L’ABBÉ, 257—Costumes, 258—Church, 259.
LOCTUDY—Romanesque Church, 261.
TORCHE DE PENMARCH, 262—Church of St. Guenolé, 263—"Le filet saint"—Ruins
of the old Town, 264—Fontenelle the Leaguer, 267—Church of St. Nonna,
268—Menhirs at Kerscaven, 269.
AUDIERNE—Lighthouse—Bathing-machines, 269—Town, 270.
POINTE DU RAZ—Popular superstitions—Church of St. Collédoc, 271—"Enfer de
Plogoff"—Island of Sein—Druidesses, 272—Dangerous passage, 273—Baie des
Trépassés—Submerged city of Is, 274—Legend of King Gradlon and his
daughter Dahut, 275.
DOUARNENEZ—Romanesque Church of Pointcroix, 276—Chapel of Notre Dame de
Comfort—Wheel of Sacring-Bells—Town of Douarnenez, 279—Pardon of Ste.
Anne-de-la-Palue, 280—Costume, 281—Church of Ste. Anne—Procession,
282—Holy Well of Ste. Anne, 285.
SCAËR—Old Customs and Superstitions, 285—Wrestling—"Pierres de Croix,"
286.
LE FAOUÉT—Chapel of St. Barbe, 287—Wedding ceremonies and amusements,
288—Fishing, 289—Old Breton superstitious still prevalent—Lavandières de
la Nuit, 290—Church of St. Fiacre—Elaborately carved Rood-screen,
293—Painted glass—Ruined Castle of Poncallec—Plot of Cellamare,
294—Montagnes Noires, 296.
CARHAIX—Situation, 297—Statue of La Tour d’Auvergne, 298—Fair and
Market—Church of St. Tremeur—Skull-boxes, 299.
HUELGOAT, 300—Lead-mines, 301—Cascade of St. Herbot—Chapel of St. Herbot,
303—His tomb, 304—Patron of cattle—Offerings of horsehair and cows’ tails,
304—Homeward journey, 307.
USEFUL DATES in the History of Brittany 309
CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE of the Dukes of Brittany 310
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
VIGNETTE—St. Michael’s Mount, Title-page.
1. Querqueville Church, 6
2. Plan of Querqueville Church, 6
3. Château of Tourlaville, 9
4. Castle of Bricquebec, 13
5. Badge of the Sœurs de la Miséricorde, 17
6. Coutances Cathedral, 20
7. Pilaster and Cornice from Tomb of Bp. James in Cathedral of Dol, 31
8. Front of the Tomb, 32
9. Menhir, near Dol, 35
10. Château of Combourg, 37
11. Peasant Girl of Cancale, 38
12. St. Malo and Chateaubriand’s Tomb, 40
13. Effigy of Jean de Beaumanoir, 52
14. Château of La Bellière, 54
15. Chimney, Château of La Bellière, 56
16. Château of La Garaye, 60
17. Section of Lanleff Church, 69
18. Plan of Lanleff Church, 70
19. Fountain of Duke Peter, 73
20. Abbey of Beauport, 77
21. Skull-box, 91
22. The Creizker, 107
23. Calvary, Guimiliau, 116
24. The Fool’s Well, Folgoët, 124
25. Abbey of St. Mathieu, 131
26. Peasant Girl of Ouëssant, 133
27. Peasant Girl, Châteaulin, 135
28. Begger, Quimper, 141
29. Concarneau, with Sardine Boats, 143
30. Dolmen, Trégunc, 146
31. Rocking-Stone, Trégunc, 148
32. Château of Rustéphan, 150
33. Scala Sancta, Ste. Anne d’Auray, 159
34. Champ des Martyrs, Auray, 169
35. Sculptured Stone, Locmariaker, 171
36. Hatchet-shaped Sculpture, Locmariaker, 173
37. Entrance to Tumulus of Gavr’ Inis, 175
38, 39. Sculptured Stones, Gavr’ Inis, 176
40. Dolmen of Corcorro, 182
41. Castle of Elven, 200
42. Column of the Thirty, 206
43. Château of Josselin, 212
44. Salt-Pans, with Le Croisic in the distance, 235
45. Paludier of the Bourg de Bate in his working dress, 237
46. Paludier of the Bourg de Bate in his wedding dress, 239
47. La Roche Bernard, 247
48. Entrance to Le Palais, Belle Isle, 253
49. Device of Fouquet, 257
50. Peasant Girl, Pont l’Abbé, 258
51. Apse of the Church, Loctudy, 260
52. Torche of Penmarch, 262
53. Ship sculptured on the walls, Church of St. Guenolé, Penmarch, 264
54. Church of Guenolé, Penmarch, 265
55. Fleur-de-lisé Window, Church of St. Nonna, Penmarch, 269
56. Pointe du Raz, 270
57. Front of the Church at Pont Croix, 277
58. Wheel of Sacring Bells, Notre Dame-de-Comfort, near Douarnenez, 279
59. Costume of a Finistère Bride, 281
60. Well of Ste. Anne-la-Palue, 284
61. Cross Stones, 286
62. Rood-screen or Jubé, St. Fiacre, 291
63. Carved Stalls, St. Herbot, 304
64. Carved Stalls, St. Herbot, 305
BRITANNY AND ITS BYWAYS.
A fair wind conveyed us in six hours from Poole to Cherbourg. It was dusk
when we entered the harbour, and so we had no opportunity of seeing its
beauty until the following morning, when we ascended a height behind the
town, called the Mont du Roule. It is reached either on foot or by
carriage, the Emperor having ordered a road to be made up to the fort
which crowns the heights, on the occasion of the visit to Cherbourg, in
1858, of her Majesty Queen Victoria. Some 1500 men were immediately set to
work, and, in a few days, an easy carriage-road was finished, up which the
Emperor drove the Queen at his usual rapid pace. The view from the fort is
lovely, commanding the whole line of the northern point of the Cotentin,
from the low promontory of Cape de la Hogue to Barfleur. The water of the
harbour, owing to its great depth, is of the most intense blue, which we
quite agreed with the guardian of the fort in likening to that of the Bay
of Naples. Across its entrance stretches, for two miles, the long line of
the breakwater, and within were anchored the fleet of our yacht squadron,
which the day before had run a race between Poole and Cherbourg. We took a
boat to visit the breakwater. It is commanded at each end by a fort, with
another in the centre, where the provisions are kept. In stormy weather
the sea washes over the breakwater, and sometimes for days prevents all
communication between the forts, and the supplies consequently are
stopped. Boys offered us for sale the silvery shells of the Venus’ ear,
which inhabits the rocks of the breakwater. We afterwards saw them in the
fish-market exposed for sale, and, on expressing some curiosity as to how
they were eaten, the landlord had a dish prepared for us. These fish
resemble the scallop in taste, but are very tough, and require a great
deal of beating with a wooden mallet to make them tender enough to eat.
They are called "ormer," or "gofish." The table d’hôte was very
plentifully supplied with fish, and here, as throughout Normandy and
Brittany, cider, the customary beverage of the country, was always placed
upon the table. It varies very much in quality in different districts;
that of Bayeux is most esteemed.
The next morning we set out for the dockyard. To obtain admission, it
first requires a letter from the English Consul, who lives in a charming
spot overlooking the sea, at the foot of the Montagne du Roule. Furnished
with this, we repaired to the Préfet Maritime, who gave us an order to be
presented at the dockyard gate, where it was countersigned, and a guide
appointed to show us over the establishment. We made the tour round all
the basins and workshops, and saw the canot impérial used by the Emperor
on the visit of our Queen,—a most elegant boat, beautifully carved with
marine subjects. The model of a Roman trireme, or galley, is in one of the
basins, and in the little museum, or Salle des Modèles, are the two
flagstones that covered the grave of Napoleon, and were deposited here by
the Prince de Joinville, when he returned with the Emperor’s remains from
St. Helena. The dockyard partly stands on a spot called Chantereyne. The
Empress Matilda, fleeing from Stephen, was overtaken by a tempest when
making for Cherbourg, and vowed, if her life were spared, to build a
church. The ship was in jeopardy, but the pilot cheered her spirits, and,
when gaining the port, exclaimed, "Chantes Reine! we are safe in harbour."
The place where she landed has always retained the name; and here the
Empress, in fulfilment of her vow, founded an abbey, which was destroyed
in the Revolution. The habitations of the nuns is the present provisional
Hôpital de la Marine; a new one, containing above a thousand beds, being
in course of construction, and a modern church, called Eglise du Vœu, has
been erected in another part of the town in place of that of the Empress
Matilda.
Henry II. held his court in the castle with his empress-mother in great
splendour; it had formerly been tenanted by Duke William of Normandy
before his invasion of England, and, within its enclosure, he built a
church also, in consequence of a vow made during a serious illness. There
are few objects of interest in the town of Cherbourg. The women all wear
the large Normandy cap. In the Place d’Armes is a bronze equestrian statue
of the Emperor Napoleon I., and on the pedestal is inscribed "J’avois
résolu de renouveler à Cherbourg les merveilles de l’Egypte." In the
Library is a curiously sculptured chimney-piece of the fifteenth century,
coloured and gilt, removed from a room of the abbey. The principal church,
La Trinité, is a strange jumble of architecture. There is some beautiful
tracery in the windows, and a fine boss (clef pendante) in the south
porch, now restored. On a board in the church is an inscription, setting
forth it was built in consequence of a "vœu solennel des habitans de
Cherbourg en 1450 de la délivrance de la domination étrangère"—that is,
from the English, whose defeat the same year at Formigny, by the Constable
de Richemont, expelled them for ever from Normandy.
There is much to see in the environs of Cherbourg, which makes it a good
central point for excursions. We drove by the fort of Octeville, where a
magnificent panoramic view is obtained, equalling in extent that from the
Mont du Roule. A fisherman, who was standing by, told us the names of the
numerous forts that bristle in every direction, and related to us the
legend of the monk of Saire, who, having received the rent due to his
father for some land, appropriated the money to his own use, and, on the
tenant declaring he had paid the sum, adjured the evil one to carry him
off, if he had ever received the money. The words were no sooner uttered
than there came a flash of lightning, and the monk vanished: but he still
appears in the roads of Cherbourg floating on the sea; when he sees a
sailor, he cries "Save me, save me! I am about to sink!" but the hapless
being who approaches to assist him is immediately dragged into the water,
a peal of infernal laughter is heard, and the luckless mariner disappears
for ever. We asked our guide if he believed in the phantom monk, but he
was silent.
[Illustration: 1. Querqueville Church.]
From Octeville we proceeded to Querqueville, where, in the same churchyard
as the parochial church, stands a little church, named after St. Germain,
the first apostle of the Cotentin, who, in the fifth century, landed from
England on the coast of La Hogue, and preached Christianity in this
district and the valley traversed by the river Saire, which falls into the
sea near St. Vaast-la-Hogue. This tiny church, for it measures only 34
feet by 24, and is 11 feet high, is by some supposed to have been a temple
of the Gauls converted into a Christian place of worship; the nave and
tower having been added to the old temple, which consists of a triple apse
forming a regular trefoil, each of which has a domed top. We drove on to
Nacqueville, the château of Comte Hippolyte de Tocqueville. The park is
prettily laid out, a stream of water runs in front of the house, and a row
of blue hydrangeas blazed forth in great beauty, with the relief of a
background of dark firs. Time prevented us from pursuing our excursion
further west, to see the famed cliffs of Jobourg.
[Illustration: 2. Plan of Querqueville Church.]
To the east of Cherbourg a high road leads to Barfleur and the lighthouse
of Gatteville, between which and the Isle of Wight is the narrowest point
of the English Channel, passing by Saint-Pierre-Eglise, near which is the
château of the late Alexis de Tocqueville, author of ’Democracy in
America;’ but we did not get further on the road than Tourlaville, the
ancient château of the Ravalet family, upon whom tradition has heaped
every crime imaginable. One seigneur entered the church with his hounds
and stabbed the priest at the altar, because he refused to administer to
him the consecrated element; another hanged some of his vassals, because
they did not grind their corn at the seignorial mill, for "haute or basse
justice" was then among the nobles’ rights. Marguerite, a daughter of this
ancient house, expiated, with her brother, their offences upon the
scaffold at Paris. Every effort was made to spare their lives; but the
King, or rather Queen Margot, was inexorable. The château of Tourlaville
is beautifully situated; it is in the style of the Renaissance, with an
angular tower, which recalls that of Heidelberg Castle. The ground-floor
consists of two large unfurnished rooms, and a staircase, with iron
railing, leads to the story above. In one room hangs the portrait of a
lady châteleine, in the costume of the period of Louis XIII., with the
château of Tourlaville in the distance. On her left are eight Cupids with
bandages over their eyes, one in advance of the others is not blinded.
From the lady’s mouth is a label, with the inscription "Un (seul) me
suffit." This is said to be the portrait of the Lady Marguerite, but the
costume is of a later date. In one of the rooms is a chimney-piece covered
with a variety of amatory devices and mottoes:—a Cupid blinded, holding a
lighted torch, motto "Ce qui me donne la vie me cause la mort." Again,
another Cupid with eyes bandaged, pouring water out of a vase to cool a
flaming heart he holds in his hand, motto "Sa froideur me glace les veines
et son ardeur brûle mon cœur." Six winged hearts flying at the approach of
Cupid, but which are reached by his darts, "Même en fuyant l’on est pris."
Further is a sentiment in verse:—
“Plusieurs sont atteints de ce feu,
Mais il ne s’en guérit que fort peu.”
Again,—
“Ces deux n’en font qu’un.”
[Illustration: 3. Château of Tourlaville.]
A river in the foreground, in the distance a setting sun, motto "Ainsi
puissai-je mourir." This assemblage of devices and mottoes is not
applicable to any particular individual, but may be supposed to be merely
an expression of the taste of the time. They are of the seventeenth
century, when the Ravalet had been succeeded by the Franquetot family, who
have since taken the name of Coigny. Their arms, with several others, are
in the little boudoir in one of the towers, called the Blue Chamber. Its
walls are distempered blue, and the coverlet and hangings of the bed, with
all the decorations of the room, are of the same colour. Having admired
the lovely view from the "Tour des quatre vents," we descended to the
kitchen of the farmer who rents the house, which now belongs to the
Tocqueville family. His wife was busily employed in making "crêpes," a
favourite kind of cake in Normandy and Brittany. It is made generally of
the flour of the sarrasin or buckwheat, mixed with milk or water, and
spread into a kind of pancake, which is fried on an iron pan, resembling
the Scotch griddle-cakes. Another variety, called "galette," is made of
the same ingredients, but differs from the crêpe in its being made three
or four times the thickness, and is therefore not so light. Though
generally made of buckwheat, wheat or oat-flour is sometimes used; and in
the towns, sugar and cinnamon and vanilla are added, and the simple
character of the crêpe entirely changed under the hands of the
confectioner. The little village of Tourlaville was famous for its
glassworks, until supplanted by those of Gobain.
On our return to Cherbourg we visited the lace school of the Sœurs de la
Providence, where about two hundred girls are employed in making black
lace like that of Bayeux, which has now completely superseded the
Chantilly; the manner of making both laces is similar. The old Chantilly
has completely died out, and the modern manufacture extends the whole
length of Normandy from Cherbourg to Bayeux. How the children can keep the
bobbins from entangling is a marvel; there were as many as five hundred on
one pillow. The lace-makers were chiefly employed in flounces, shawls, and
other large works. These are all made in separate pieces, and united by
the stitch called fine joining or "raboutissage." A half-shawl or "pointe"
was divided into thirty segments. We passed the evening at the
Etablissement, and next morning left Cherbourg.
The railway traverses the picturesque and rocky valley of Quincampoix to
Martinvast, whose little Romanesque church stands close to the station,
and at a short distance is the château of Martinvast, where its late
proprietor, M. du Moncel, established a model farm. A monument has been
erected to his memory in the church by the commune of Martinvast.
[Illustration: 4. Castle of Bricquebec.]
At Sottevast we took the omnibus for Bricquebec, which lies nearly five
miles from the station. Its ruined castle, dating from the end of the
fourteenth century, with its lofty octagonal donjon, nearly a hundred feet
high, standing on a high "motte" or artificial mound, has a most imposing
appearance. Bricquebec, the most considerable demesne of the Cotentins,
was taken by King Henry V. from the Sire d’Estouteville, who had so
gallantly defended Mont St. Michel against him. Henry gave Bricquebec to
William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, the ill-fated favourite of Queen
Margaret of Anjou, and he, on being taken prisoner by the French, sold it,
to raise the money for his ransom, to Sir Bertie Entwistle, who fought at
Agincourt, and who held it till the battle of Formigny expelled the
English from Normandy, and Sir Bertie fell at St. Albans in the
Lancastrian cause. The inn, "Hôtel du Vieux Château," is within the
enclosure of the ruins—a most dilapidated old place; our dirty
ill-furnished room next to a hayloft, the horses passing through the house
to the stable, and every kind of litter and rubbish accumulated under the
windows. Yet in the room we occupied had once slept our gracious Sovereign
Queen Victoria. On a placard is inscribed, "Chambre de la famille royale
d’Angleterre, 18 Août 1857;" and below stairs is another, setting forth,
"S. M. la Reine d’Angleterre, le Prince Albert, les Princesses Royale et
Alice, le Prince Alfred, sont descendus à l’hôtel du Vieux Château le 10
Août 1857." About a mile from Bricquebec is a Trappist convent; but we
were not allowed admission beyond the parlour, where is sold a quantity of
cutlery, not made—as we were given to understand when offered for sale—by
the monks.
Regaining the railroad, we went on to Valognes, which has been styled the
St. Germain of Normandy; a dull town, with worn-out houses, occupied by
worn-out aristocratic families. The grass grows in the streets.
Here we left the rail and proceeded to Saint Sauveur-le-Vicomte. On
entering the town, the castle is on the right of the road, the Abbey
church on the left. The large demesne of Saint Sauveur-le-Vicomte passed
by marriage into the Harcourt family, and belonged, in the time of Edward
III., to Geoffrey d’Harcourt, whose fortress was one of the most
formidable in Normandy. Banished from France, he went over to England and
persuaded Edward III. to make a descent upon Normandy instead of Gascony,
assuring him he would find rich towns and fair castles without any means
of defence, and that his people would gain wealth enough to suffice them
for twenty years to come. The King landed at La Hogue, or Saint
Vaast-la-Hogue, as it is now called, where he knighted the Prince of Wales
and made Warwick and Harcourt marshals of his army. They advanced in three
divisions—the King and the Prince in the centre, the two marshals on the
right and left—ravaging all before them, and not stopping in their
victorious course till the great victory at Crecy. Harcourt subsequently
met a traitor’s fate. A force was sent against him, his army was routed,
and, preferring death to being taken, he fought most valiantly until he
was struck to the ground by French lances, when some men-at-arms
dispatched him with their swords. He had sold the reversion of his castle
to King Edward III., to whom it was confirmed by the treaty of Bretigny.
Edward bestowed the barony upon that pride of English chivalry, Sir John
Chandos, in recompense for his great services in the wars. The square
donjon and inner gate were built by Chandos. The castle is well preserved,
and is now used as a hospice for orphans and aged women. The rooms are
kept beautifully clean, and on a tablet in one of the corridors is written
up "Dortoirs restaurés par la munificence de M. le Comte Georges
d’Harcourt en mémoire de ses illustres ayeux, anciens Seigneurs de ce
château, en 1838."
The Benedictine convent also belonged to the Harcourts until the revolt of
Geoffrey. It is now the property of the Sœurs de la Miséricorde, who have
rebuilt the fine Abbey church according to its former model. Originally
built in the eleventh century, it was partly burnt in the fourteenth, and
reconstructed in the fifteenth. The columns and arches of the nave are of
the first period; the form of the church is a Latin cross, having an apse
ornamented with a double row of lancet windows, richly sculptured. The
sculptures are all executed by an untaught workman of the place, who died
before he had completed the pulpit. To collect the funds necessary for the
undertaking, the foundress travelled throughout Europe. Her tomb is in the
church. "Julie Françoise Catherine Postel, née à Barfleur, 1756. Sœur
Marie Madelaine, Fondatrice et première Superieure Générale de l’Institut
des Ecoles Chrétiennes de la Miséricorde, morte en odeur de Sainteté 16
Juillet 1846, à l’Abbaye de St. Sauveur-le-Vicomte." The badge of the
sisterhood is a cross inscribed with their motto "L’obéissance jusqu’à la
mort." Some of the party made an attempt at fishing in the little river
Douve, but without success, though rewarded for their walk by a pretty
view of the apse of the Abbey church, with its delicately-sculptured
lancet windows, from the opposite side of the river.
[Illustration: 5. L’OBÉISSANCE JUSQU’À LA MORT.]
We hired a private carriage (_voiture à volonté_) to Périers. After
passing over a hilly road we crossed a marsh which extends from Carentan
to the sea, and reached a town called La Haye-du-Puits—a singular name
derived from the custom in the middle ages of surrounding the "motte" or
enclosure upon which the donjon was built, with a wooden palisade, or
sometimes with a thick hedge formed of thorns and branches of trees
interlaced: hence La Haye-du-Puits, La Haye-Pesnel, and others. Here is a
Norman church restored: all the capitals of the columns are of the same
pattern.
The Abbey church at Lessay, where next we stopped, is of the twelfth
century, and considered, with Coutances and Périers, to be the finest
examples of Romanesque in the Cotentin. The arches are round, and all the
architecture of the church, which has been restored, is of the same
period. The Abbey of Lessay had transmarine jurisdiction and the right of
presentation to the Priory of Boxgrove and other endowments in the diocese
of Chichester. The Abbey house, now inhabited, is a fine modernised
habitation. At Lessay we saw the manner of washing linen practised in many
places throughout Normandy and Brittany. Being first roughly washed in the
river, the clothes are placed in layers in a large cask, with a bunghole
at the bottom, alternately with wood-ashes, and on the top is laid a piece
of coarse sacking. Boiling water is poured over the top, which, as it
passes through the linen, absorbs the soda of the ashes, escaping at the
bottom and carrying away with it all impurities. This process is repeated
several times till the clothes are perfectly white.
Throughout this part of the country the mistletoe hangs as the sign of a
cabaret; and if cider is sold, some apples are fastened to the bush. On
the road to Périers we crossed a "lande" or common, where we met numerous
carts carrying sea sand, here used to mix with the heavy soil as manure.
At Périers we slept at the little inn "La Croix Blanche," kept by Madame
Casimir, the widow of a Polish officer, well known for her eccentricity
and good cuisine. The entrance to the apartments in the inns is generally
through the kitchen; in many the box bedstead (_lit clos_) stands in the
corner near the fire, Breton fashion. On a barber’s shop we saw painted up
"Içi l’on rajeunit." The church has a tall spire, and is one of the finest
religious edifices in this part of Normandy—painted windows, the capitals
of the columns of varied foliage, and fine groined clustered arches.
We had a most perilous drive to Coutances, the coachman, "en ribote,"
drove us at a fearful pace, and we were thankful when we arrived in
safety. The Norman cathedral is beautiful—so simple, so pure, and elegant;
its tall towers terminating in spires; and the chapels being separated by
open mullioned arches, great lightness is given to the interior. The
Bishop of Coutances was officiating at the consecration of some stones for
a new pavement; each flag was rubbed over and anointed with oil.
[Illustration: 6. Coutances Cathedral.]
The church of St. Pierre has a handsome square tower, pierced gallery, and
apse with a double row of columns. In the church of St. Nicholas we
particularly noticed the fine bosses of the groined arches in the chancel.
The fonts hereabouts have the serpent with the apple, and the cross carved
upon the cover. The church was filled with pots of flowers they were
employed in removing, for the day before had been the Fête of St. Fiacre,
the patron of gardeners. St. Fiacre, or Fiaker, was an Irish monk of the
seventh century, who, according to tradition, obtained from the Bishop of
Meaux a grant of as much ground out of the forest as he could dig a trench
round in one day’s labour, for the purpose of making a garden and
cultivating vegetables for travellers. Long time after, the peasants would
show the ditch ten times longer than was expected, and relate how, when
the Irishman took his stick to trace a line upon the soil, the earth dug
itself under the point of the stick, while the forest trees fell right and
left to save him the trouble of cutting them down. Outside the town are
the remains of an aqueduct, with ivy-covered arches, said to be the work
of the middle ages. It is a good point of view for sketching the
cathedral, and the public gardens also command a fine prospect.
The approach to Granville is by a sharp descent. The town is built at the
foot of a rocky promontory, the streets rising in terraces cut in the
rock, on the top of which are the citadel and the church on the
culminating point. It has been styled a Gibraltar in miniature. A fort was
built here by Lord Scales, who commanded the English forces in the
Cotentin in the time of Henry VI., and it was taken by surprise by
Estouteville, the hero of Saint Michel. The church is cruciform in plan,
the arms of the cross being equal. The axis of the nave is inclined to the
left, as we afterwards observed that of the Creizker at St. Pol de Léon.
It has been lately restored, and the painted windows are offerings of the
different families of the town. The view from the top of the "Roc" is very
extensive, including the Chausey islands and Jersey. A steamer runs twice
a week to St. Helier. A deep cutting in the rocks opens on the beach,
where the bathing-machines are stationed—curious little canvas huts
carried upon poles, like sedan chairs. The tide here rises 45 feet. It was
to Granville the Vendean army, commanded by La Rochejacquelin, appointed
generalissimo at twenty-two, marched after their fatal step of crossing
the Loire, expecting to make a junction with the English; but Granville
was vigorously defended, contrary winds retarded the arrival of the
English fleet, and the retreat from the coast, where it might have been
supported by the English, was the ruin of the Royalist army. Of the 80,000
who crossed the Loire sixty days before, only 8000 remained to make their
last heroic resistance at Savenay, which ended the great Vendean war. A
few months after, the hero of this noble army, the chivalrous Henri de la
Rochejacquelin, fell from the bullet of a soldier whose life he had
spared(1):—
“Lorsqu’en des jours trop malheureux
Pâlissait l’astre de la France;
Quand les cœurs les plus valeureux
Semblaient perdre toute espérance,
L’antique honneur, la sainte foi,
Brillèrent dans cette contrée;
Mourir pour son Dieu, pour son roi,
Fut le serment de la Vendée.”
The costume of the Granville women is singular. They wear long black
cloaks or mantles, edged with a frill of the same material, and on their
heads a kind of bandeau or under-cap, turned up at the ears, surmounted by
a white handkerchief, folded square and placed horizontally upon the head,
like the plinth of a Grecian capital.
We drove to St. Pair, a small watering-place about two miles from
Granville, nicely situated in a little sandy bay. In the middle of the
church is the monumental tomb of St. Pair and another saint (St. Gault);
their effigies, with mitre and crozier, side by side.
Next day we had a beautiful drive to Avranches. A winding road leads up to
the town, which is situated on an elevated plateau, commanding a view of
Brittany on one side and of Normandy on the other—a broad expanse of land
and sea, the former extending over the valley of the Sée, with its network
of small streams interlacing each other; Mont St. Michel appears in the
distance. The finest view is from the Botanic gardens. The cathedral of
Avranches fell at the end of the last century, but a model of it is
preserved in the museum. One stone remains, carefully surrounded by
massive chains, with an inscription recording that it was the spot where
Henry II. received absolution for the murder of Thomas à Becket:—"Sur
cette pierre, içi à la porte de la cathédrale d’Avranches, après le
meurtre de Thomas Becket, Archévêque de Cantorbéry, Henri II., roi
d’Angleterre, duc de Normandie, reçut à genoux, des légats du pape,
l’absolution apostolique, le dimanche xxii Mai, 1172." The cemetery is at
the foot of the hill; the tombs are of granite, with the letters in
relief: among them we read many well-known English names.
At Pontorson we could find no remains of the castle of Du Guesclin, which
was nearly surprised by the English under a captain named Felton, during
the absence of Du Guesclin, with the connivance of the "chambrières" of
the Lady Typhaine, his wife. Already their scaling-ladders were against
the wall, when Juliana, Du Guesclin’s sister, agitated by a troublous
dream, awoke suddenly, seized a sword, rushed to the window, and upset
three English who were coming up the ladder, and they were killed by the
fall. The enemy retired. Next morning Du Guesclin, on his return to
Pontorson, met Felton and his party, attacked them, and took them
prisoners. When Typhaine saw Felton, she tauntingly exclaimed, "Comment,
brave Felton, vous voilà encore! C’est trop pour un homme de cœur comme
vous d’être battu, dans une intervalle de douze heures, une fois par la
sœur, une autre par le frère." Du Guesclin caused the faithless
"chambrières" to be sewed up in sacks and flung into the river.
John IV. Duke of Brittany conferred upon Du Guesclin the government of
Pontorson, of which territory he was personally lord, by right of his
mother. It was here he often resided, and here he celebrated being made
Constable of France by King Charles V., and fraternised with Olivier de
Clisson, agreeing to afford each other mutual help—"contre tous ceux qui
peuvent vivre et mourir." The granite church was founded by Duke Robert,
father of the Conqueror.
Pontorson is the most convenient place for visiting Mont St. Michel. Our
drive thither was by the banks of the river Couësnon, along a sandy road,
bordered on each side by hedges of tamarisks, which leads to the "Grève,"
or sands, which have to be crossed to reach the Mount, a distance of
rather more than a mile. We met numbers of bare-legged half-clad women and
children, bringing in the produce of their fishing, shrimps and cockles
tied up in nets, and peasants with carts carrying in sea sand for dressing
the land. The appearance of Mont St. Michel is very imposing, a cone of
granite encircled by the sea. Above rises the fortress, surmounted by the
church, a height of 400 feet from the top to the water. Below, at the foot
of the Mount, picturesquely situated on an insulated rock, is the little
chapel of St. Aubert, Bishop of Avranches, the founder of St. Michel. The
Mount has been the residence of many of our English princes. Matilda,
queen of the Conqueror, visited St. Michel. It was here her son Henry I.,
then only Count of the Cotentin, was blockaded by his brothers William and
Robert, and obliged to surrender. Here Henry II. held his court, and, when
Henry V. overran Normandy, St. Michel was the only fortress that held out
against him, under its gallant defender Louis d’Estouteville of
Bricquebec. Two cannons, now at the entrance of the castle, are said to
have been taken from the English at the siege. Normandy was always the
scene of the quarrels between the English Norman princes, of the disputes
between the sons of the Conqueror, between Stephen of Blois and Henry of
Anjou, and again of those between Henry II. and his sons, and of Richard
and his brother John, to the latter of whom the Normans were attached.
Seven French kings have made pilgrimages to St. Michel; and here Louis XI.
instituted the order of knighthood, called in honour of the archangel St.
Michael, but afterwards styled the order of the Coquille, from the
cockleshells that formed the collar of the knights, and the golden
cockle-shells that bordered their mantles. The motto of the order was the
old motto of the Mount, "Immensi tremor Oceani" (the trembling of the
immeasurable ocean), being an allusion to the popular belief that when the
English approached St. Michel, the guardian archangel of the Mount raised
a tempest to drive the enemy’s vessels upon the rocks. This belief may be
traced back to the time when the island was occupied by the Druid
priestesses, who were supposed to have the power of raising storms and
stilling them by their magic arrows of gold.
We ascended by the flight of steps to the "Merveille," as the convent
building is called, and well it deserves its name, from its elegance, its
boldness, and its position, with a wall of above one hundred feet high,
and of immense length, rising from the rock and supported by fifteen
buttresses, and divided into three stories. In every point of view it is
one of the most remarkable edifices of the thirteenth century. The salle
des chevaliers, where the chapters of the knights were held, is a fine
hall, with three rows of columns, and above it are the beautiful Gothic
cloisters. The "préau" or court is surrounded by a double row of pointed
arches, interlacing each other, and filled in with flowered spandrils and
cornices, carved with the greatest delicacy and endless variety. The
church which crowns the building is supported by a circle of enormous
columns in the crypt beneath, called the Souterrain des Gros Piliers: it
has been entirely restored, and the carvings are the work of the prisoners
who were confined here. From one of the doors we went out to the platform
or terrace called Beauregard, from the beauty of its prospect, or
sometimes Sault Gautier, from a prisoner of that name, who three times
threw himself off the platform to commit suicide. The view from hence is
most extensive, the whole circuit of the bay extending to the west as far
as Cancale. In 1203 St. Michel became a royal demesne, and the buildings
were entirely reconstructed by the Abbot Jourdan, assisted by Philip
Augustus; and the works were continued by his successors to 1260.
Beneath and adjacent to the Mount, is the little island of La Tombeleine
or tombeau d’-Helène, so called from a young lady of that name, who unable
to accompany her lover knight when he left for England with the Conqueror,
as soon as the vessel which carried him away disappeared from her sight,
laid down on the shore and died. Every year, on the anniversary of her
death, the fishermen will tell you they see a dove seated upon the
Tombeleine rock, and remain there till morning’s dawn.
The guide pointed out to us the window of St. Michel, from which Barbès
tried to escape by means of a cord made of his sheets cut into strips and
tied together; but the line was too short, and he fell upon the rock and
was taken up much hurt. The provisions for the fortress are brought in up
an inclined plane, and raised by means of a tread-wheel, formerly worked
by the prisoners. We were conducted to the spot where stood, with bars
only three inches apart, the iron cage in which so many celebrities were
immured. Dubourg, the Dutch journalist, who wrote against Louis XIV., died
within its bars, devoured, it is said, by the rats. In 1777, the Comte
d’Artois (afterwards Charles X.) desired it should be destroyed, but his
wishes were disregarded. His cousin, the Duc de Chartres (afterwards Louis
Philippe), with his brother and sister, and Madame de Genlis, subsequently
visited the Mount. All exclaimed against the iron cage, and when they
heard that the Comte d’Artois had ordered its destruction, they sent for
hatchets, and the Duc de Chartres gave the first blow towards its
demolition; but the fine old fortress is no longer desecrated as a prison.
The Emperor has restored it to its original position, and it is now placed
under the control of the Bishop of Coutances, and is used as an asylum for
orphans under the care of a few Sisters.
Next morning we crossed the boundary between Normandy and Brittany, the
river Couësnon, which has often changed its course, once, it is said,
running beyond St. Michel—hence the popular saying—
“Le Couësnon par sa folie
A mis le Mont en Normandie.”
We had a beautiful drive to Dol or Dol-de-Bretagne, as it is styled, to
distinguish it from the fortress of the same name in the Jura, upon the
taking of which Madame de Sevigné writes in her letters with so much
enthusiasm. We were now fairly in Brittany, which though geographically
part of France still remains very distinct, owing to the Celtic origin of
its inhabitants. Brittany consists of five departments; but it is in Lower
Brittany alone, comprised in the departments of Finistère, Morbihan, and
the Côtes-du-Nord, that the true Celtic race, its language, names,
features, costumes, and superstitions are to be found.
This is the true Brittany, the Bretagne Bretonnante of Froissart, who
calls the eastern part of the province, La Bretagne Douce, because the
French language is spoken there. Dol was the great bulwark of Brittany
against Normandy; the wall and moat surrounding the town, with some of the
towers, still remain. Many of the houses are built, as the French term it,
"en colombage" that is, with the upper story projecting some fifteen feet
over the ground-floor, forming a gallery or porch supported by oak posts
or columns with sculptured capitals of the thirteenth century. The inn we
occupied had one of these porches: Madame Barbot, our landlady, and her
maid, were both dressed in Breton costume, with lace-trimmed embroidered
caps and aprons of fine muslin, clear-starched and ironed with a
perfection which the most accomplished "blanchisseuse du fin" of Paris
would find it difficult to surpass. The people here have the Breton
physiognomy, sharp black eyes, short roundi faces and brown freckled
complexions, a contrast to the blue eyes, long oval faces, and bright
tints of their Norman neighbours.
[Illustration: 7. Pilaster and Cornice from the Tomb of Bishop James,
Cathedral, Dol.]
The principal building at Dol is the Cathedral, built of grey granite, in
the style of many of our English churches. On the south is the "porte
episcopale," a large projecting porch with mullioned sides, and, near it,
a smaller porch with a central column semée of hearts, the "armes
parlantes" of Bishop Cœuret who built it. The clustered columns of the
nave, consist of a central pillar surrounded by four others running up to
the roof, so slender and delicate that they are united to the centre by
small bars of iron. Over the high altar is an enormous wooden crozier,
carved and gilt, from which the Host is suspended. A beautiful Renaissance
tomb on the north side of the cathedral was raised in 1507 to the memory
of Bishop James, who died three years before. The sculpture is much
mutilated, but the arabesques are most delicately and elegantly chiselled.
It is supposed to be the work of Jean Just of Tours, sculptor of the
magnificent tomb of Louis XII. and Anne of Brittany, erected at St. Denis
by order of Francis I.
[Illustration: 8. Front of the Tomb of Bishop James, Cathedral, Dol.]
The chapel of St. Samson, patron saint of the cathedral, has been
restored. Mad people were brought here for cure, and placed in a recess
which still remains; the opening was covered over by an iron grating. Dol
was formerly the ecclesiastical metropolis of Brittany; the see was
founded by Samson, one of those British monks, who, with a whole
population of men and women, emigrated from England to escape the Saxon
slavery. They crossed the Channel in barks made of skins sewn together,
singing, as they went, the Lamentations of the Psalmist. This emigration
lasted more than a century (from 450 to 550), and poured a Christian
population into a Celtic country where paganism was longest preserved. St.
Samson and his six suffragans—all monks, missionaries, and bishops, like
himself—were called the "Seven Saints of Brittany;" St. Samson was what
was termed an "evêque portatif," meaning a bishop without a diocese, until
he founded that of Dol. Telio, also a British monk, with the assistance of
St. Samson, planted near Dol an orchard three miles in length, and to him
is attributed the first introduction of the apple-tree into Brittany.
Wherever the monks went, they cultivated the soil; all had in their mouths
the words of the Apostle, "If any would not work, neither should he eat."
The people admired the industry of the new comers, and, from admiration
they passed to imitation; the peasants joined the monks in tilling the
ground, and even the brigands became agriculturists. "The Cross and the
plough, labour and prayer," was the motto of these early missionaries.
“Sûr que le Ciel maudit l’arbre stérile,
Le sage passe en opérant le bien:
Vivre et mourir à l’univers utile,
C’est la devise et l’esprit du chrétien.”
_Chants de Piété_, MALO DE GARABY.
The monks of Dol were great bee-farmers, as we learn from an anecdote told
by Count Montalembert in his ’Moines de l’Occident.’ One day when St.
Samson of Dol and St. Germain, Bishop of Paris, were conversing on the
respective merits of their monasteries, St. Samson said that his monks
were such good and careful preservers of their bees that, besides the
honey which they yielded in abundance, they furnished more wax than was
used in the churches during the year, but that, their climate not being
fit for the growth of vines, they had great scarcity of wine. Upon hearing
this, St. Germain replied, "We, on the contrary, produce more wine than we
can consume, but we have to buy wax; so, if you will furnish us with wax,
we will give you a tenth of our wine." Samson accepted the offer, and the
mutual arrangement was continued during the lives of the two saints.
The marshy country round Dol has been formerly inundated by the sea; it is
now reclaimed and protected by a dyke twenty-two miles long, extending
from Pontorson to Chateauneuf. The whole tract is full of buried wood, a
submerged forest, which the people dig up, and use for furniture. It is
black, like the Irish bog-oak. They call it "couëron." In the midst of
this plain rises a mamelon or insulated granite rock, resembling in form
Mont St. Michel, called the Mont Dol. On the top is the little chapel of
Notre Dame de l’Espérance, upon which was formerly a telegraph, and near
it is a column surmounted by a colossal statue of Our Lady. Mont Dol was a
consecrated place of the Druids. The guides showed us a spring which never
dries, and also a rock upon which they point out the print of the foot of
the demon, left by him when wrestling with St. Michael. We met the curé,
who gave us a medal of the church, and told us the principal points in the
view before us, extending over the whole Bay of Cancale.
[Illustration: 9. Menhir, near Dol.]
On our way back to Dol, we walked to a cornfield, in the midst of it
stands a menhir(2) (they are so termed from the Breton _mœn_, stone, and
_hir_, long), called the "Pierre du champ dolant," a shaft of gray
granite, about thirty feet high, and said to measure fifteen more
underground. On the top is a cross. The first preachers of Christianity,
unable to uproot the veneration for the menhirs, surmounted them with the
cross, preserving the worship but changing the symbol. In the same manner,
they did not attempt to destroy the veneration for sacred groves and
fountains, but transferred to new saints the miracles of times past.
We drove through a pretty country to see the Château of Combourg, where
Chateaubriand passed his early days. It is a fine square castle of the
fifteenth century, with massive towers at each corner, surrounded by
trees, and standing proudly over the village below. The drawbridge has
been replaced by a modern "perron" or flight of stone steps, which leads
to the entrance hall. The salle d’honneur looks over a lake. We were taken
into his little melancholy room which Chateaubriand so well describes.
[Illustration: 10. Château of Combourg.]
"La fenêtre de mon donjon s’ouvrait sur le cour intérieure; le jour,
j’avais en perspective les créneaux de la courtine opposeé, où
végétaient des scolopendres et croissait un prunier sauvage. Quelques
martinets, qui, durant l’été, s’enfonçaient en criant dans les trous des
murs, étaient mes seuls compagnons. La nuit je n’apercevais qu’un petit
morceau du ciel et quelques étoiles. Lorsque la lune brillait et qu’elle
s’abaissait à l’occident, j’en étais averti par ses rayons, qui venaient
à mon lit au travers des carreaux losangés de la fenêtre. Des chouettes
voletant d’un tour à l’autre, passant et repassant entre la lune et moi,
dessinaient sur mes rideaux l’ombre mobile de leurs ailes."
The bed on which Chateaubriand died has been brought from Paris and placed
in the room.
[Illustration: 11. Peasant Girl of Cancale.]
The next morning we left Dol for Cancale, of such world-wide celebrity for
its oysters. We left the railway at La Gouesnière, five miles and a half
from Cancale, to which we proceeded by the mail cart. It requires to
travel in Brittany to form any notion of the detestable vehicles, whether
public or "voitures à volonté," in which travellers in this country are
condemned to ride. Uncleaned, unpainted, creaking, jolting machines—as
fully tenanted with every kind of insect annoyance, as if one were
travelling in a hen-house. The horses are good, hardy, enduring little
animals, which go their thirty to fifty miles a day without any distress
either to themselves or the traveller. The Breton drivers are gentle and
kind, making more use of their voices than of their whips in urging on
their horses. The town of Cancale is situated on the heights, a
precipitous descent leading to the village below, called La Houle, which
lines the edge of the shore, and is occupied mostly by fishermen. This is
the port, and here are the pier and the lighthouse, and also a comfortable
inn to which the people of St. Malo resort in large parties, an omnibus
running thence daily. The panoramic view of the bay of Cancale is
beautiful and most extensive, one vast crescent of sand some ten square
leagues in extent, stretching from the picturesque rocks of Cancale to
Granville, its most northern point, and including Mont Dol, Mont St.
Michel, and Avranches. The western side is lined with huts and windmills,
but the water is so shallow that no boat can land. Having walked round the
little hurdled-in oyster parks, numbering, we were told, about 600, and
made ourselves very wet and dirty, though we borrowed sabots to enable us
to wade through the mud, we returned to the inn, and next day reached St.
Malo.
[Illustration: 12. Tomb of Chateaubriand, and View of St. Malo.]
St. Malo stands on a small granite island at the mouth of the Rance,
connected, by a causeway called "Le Sillon," with the mainland. The space
it occupies is so small, that castle, churches, streets, and towers are
all crowded together, and the whole is nearly surrounded by a sea wall,
which makes the town appear as if rising straight out of the ocean.
Towards the sea, the bay is encircled with groups of craggy islets, many
surmounted by forts, bristling up as the tide recedes, in every direction.
Conspicuous among these island rocks is that called the Grand Bé, chosen
by Chateaubriand for his last resting-place, as he wished to be buried
near the place of his birth. Singularly enough the name of the island "Bé"
signifies a tomb. On his request being granted, Chateaubriand wrote to the
Mayor of St. Malo.
"Enfin, Monsieur, j’aurai un tombeau, et je vous le devrai, ainsi qu’à
mes bienveillants compatriotes. Vous savez, Monsieur, que je ne veux que
quelques pieds de sable, une pierre de rivage sans ornement et sans
inscription, une simple croix de fer, et une petite grille pour empêcher
les animaux de me deterrer. La croix dira que l’homme réposant à ses
pieds était un Chrétien; cela suffit à ma mémoire."
At low water, the island is accessible on foot. The tomb consists of a
plain stone without inscription, surmounted by a granite cross, and is
surrounded by an iron railing. It is placed on the edge of a rock, and is
the resort of crowds of pilgrims.
"La vaste mer murmure autour de son cercueil."
The Hôtel de France is the house where Chateaubriand’s family lived, and
the room he occupied is filled with various memorials of him. The
Chateaubriand arms hang upon the wall. They were given by St. Louis to an
ancestor who was wounded and taken prisoner at the battle of Massoura. The
King changed the peacock’s plumes, previously borne by the family, to
fleurs de lys on a field gules, with the proud motto "Mon sang teint les
bannières de France." The tides here rise to between forty and fifty feet
above low-water mark, so that the harbour is dry at low water, and is
crossed on foot to go to St. Servan, the suburb on the opposite side.
We walked round the ramparts and were shown the little gate down which
were sent every night the watch dogs of St. Malo, "chiens Anglais qui
s’appelent dogues." Shut up during the day, they were let out at ten at
night, and recalled in the morning to the sound of a copper trumpet, by
their keeper, styled the "chiennetier." Enactments were made for their
maintenance, called the "droit de chiennage." When let loose at night, a
warning bell was rung to apprise the inhabitants, as they tore the legs of
every one they met. Hence it used to be said "Il a été à St. Malo, les
chiens lui ont rongé les mollets." In 1770, a naval officer trying to
force a passage was attacked by a troop of these dogs prowling between St.
Malo and St. Servan; his sword was useless as defence, and, exhausted, in
despair he threw himself into the sea, but here he was followed by the
dogs and torn to pieces. A few days after they were all destroyed by the
municipality, and the custom of keeping them has been since discontinued.
In an old map of St. Malo, or "Saint Malo de l’isle," as it was then
styled, preserved in the Imperial Library at Paris, is laid down, near the
"Sillon" a little sentry-box marked, "Corps-de-garde de nuit pour les
chiens," and again, near the "Tour de la grande Porte," is the "Pont aux
chiens." The date of the map is 1662. The arms of St. Malo till the
seventeenth century were, on a field argent, a mastiff gules.
The castle dates principally from the Queen-Duchess Anne, and one of its
massive towers, the "Qui qu’en grogne" is a memorial of her dauntless
spirit. Twice crowned Queen of France, she was the only one of her line
worthy of the ducal crown. The Bishop of St. Malo was temporal lord of the
town, and maintained he held it direct from the Pope, as a fief of the
Church, because it was built upon land where a convent formerly stood; and
consequently the Duke of Brittany had no authority over it, either
spiritual or temporal. Duke John V. began to build a castle, but the
Bishop opposed himself to its construction, and the contest lasted on
until the time of the Queen-Duchess Anne, who, in defiance of the Bishop,
and to shew that she was and always would be sovereign of St. Malo,
finished the fortress and caused the lofty inscription to be placed in
raised letters upon the great tower: "Qui qu’en grogne, ainsi sera, c’est
mon plaisir;"—so runs the legend, but unfortunately a similar story is
told of Louis II., Duke of Bourbon.
On the opposite side of the mouth of the Rance is Dinard, lately become a
favourite watering-place; it has good sands, and houses and villas are
rapidly rising up in every direction, and covering its granite hills.
The prettiest route to Dinan is by the little steamer which ascends the
Rance, a lovely voyage, occupying about two hours. The banks one mixture
of rocks, valleys, and verdure; the river now expanding into the width of
a lake, now narrowing between its forest-clothed sides. After passing
through a lock, and, winding our way through a narrow pass of rocky crags,
we reached the bridge of Dinan; above us, the gigantic granite viaduct
stretched across the valley, the town, with its feudal walls and castle,
perched on its rocky heights over the river.
In the Grande Place is a miserable statue of Du Guesclin, who looks more
like a wandering minstrel than the hero of Brittany and Constable of
France. His life forms quite an historic romance. His future greatness was
foretold by a prophetess; his wife, the Lady Tiphaine, was herself a
fairy; his battles resemble those of the giants of old. Du Guesclin was
born at Broons, and was the eldest of ten children and of great trouble to
his parents. One day his mother dreamt she was in possession of a casket,
containing portraits of herself and her lord, and on one side were set
nine precious stones of lustrous beauty encircling one rough unpolished
pebble. In her dream she carried the casket to a lapidary, and asked him
to take out the rough stone as unworthy of such goodly company; but he
advised her to allow it to remain, and subsequently it shone forth more
brilliantly than the precious gems with which it was surrounded. The after
superiority of Bertrand over the other nine children explained the dream.
It was in this "Place," where his statue now stands, the celebrated duel
took place between Du Guesclin and an English knight, called by the Breton
chroniclers Thomas of Cantorbéry. Dinan was at that time closely besieged
by the Duke of Lancaster (1359), with the young Count de Montfort, and
defended by Du Guesclin. A truce of forty days had been agreed upon,
before the expiration of which Oliver, brother of Du Guesclin, rode out
unarmed beyond the city walls, and was made prisoner by Thomas of
Cantorbéry, who demanded a ransom of 1000 florins. On this news reaching
Du Guesclin, he immediately repaired to the English camp, where he found
the Duke of Lancaster playing chess with Sir John Chandos. They received
him most cordially, and agreed that the dispute should be settled by a
combat within the walls, the Duke of Lancaster consenting to preside.
Victory declared in favour of Du Guesclin, who would have cut off the head
of his adversary, had not the Duke of Lancaster interceded for his life.
Cantorbéry was dragged upon a hurdle out of the lists, and condemned to
pay 1000 florins to Oliver; his horse and armour were given to Bertrand,
and the felon knight expelled the English army.
We drove to see the Castle of Montafilant, one of the apanages of the
Rohan family, which passed with many others to the unfortunate Gilles de
Bretagne, by his marriage with the heiress Françoise de Dinan. The castle
is approached by a steep winding path, leading to the plateau upon which
it stands. Before the use of firearms, its position rendered it
impregnable. Of its seven towers, two only remain.
The story of Gilles de Bretagne forms the subject of a romance by the
Vicomte Walsh. Though his conduct was not free from blame, his long
captivity and tragic end have rendered this unfortunate prince an object
of pity to posterity. Third son of Duke John V., he was reared with Henry
VI. of England, and personally attached to the English; but he never was
in league with England against his own country, and his uncle the
Constable Richemont regarded him as the honour and hope of his house. His
wife Françoise was the most beautiful and accomplished woman of her time,
the "perle de noblesse, de gentilesse, et de savoir;" and moreover
possessed of the rich inheritance of her uncle Bertrand de Dinan, of the
Montafilant branch. She had been betrothed from her infancy to the Sire de
Gavre, son of Guy, Comte de Laval; but her father died when she was only
eight years old, and Gilles de Bretagne carried her off by force.
Dissatisfied with his paternal inheritance, the lordship of Champtocé, he
retired to Guildo, one of the châteaux of Françoise’s dower, where he
passed his time in company with his English archers. His withdrawal from
court was represented to Duke Francis as the beginning of a revolt, by
Arthur de Montauban, his bitterest enemy and a great favourite of the
Duke. Gilles neglected his young wife, and she is reported, in an
unguarded moment, to have said to Montauban, she would marry him "if her
husband were to die." Duke Francis was determined to get rid of his
brother, and Charles VII. was persuaded to assist him in his vile design.
The King arrested Gilles on the charge of high treason, as being in
correspondence with the English; and, in proof of the charge, his enemies
produced forged letters from the King of England compromising the loyalty
of Gilles. Charles gave him over to his brother for punishment. In vain
were Gilles’s supplications to the Duke, or the entreaties of the
Constable, who went to Dinan and knelt to Francis to beg for the pardon of
his brother. Equally fruitless his being acquitted at Rédon, from there
being no proof of his guilt. The unfortunate Gilles was dragged from
prison to prison, and consigned to keepers destitute of every feeling of
humanity. Montauban, an Italian by descent (his mother was a Visconti),
sent for poison from Lombardy, and administered in his soup a strong dose,
which the good constitution of Gilles enabled him to resist. Starvation
was then tried, and the wretched Gilles would stand at his prison window,
calling on the passers by to give him bread: "Du pain, du pain pour
l’amour de Dieu," but no one ventured to relieve him. At last, a poor
woman dared to give him food, and placed a loaf on the edge of his grated
window, continuing for six months to share with him in secret her scanty
meal of black bread. Seeing that he could hold out no longer and that his
death was determined upon, Gilles begged the woman would fetch him a
minister of religion, that he might confess before he died. By stealth she
brought him a Cordelier monk, who confessed him across the bars of his
prison, and Gilles adjured him to seek his brother and acquaint him with
his pitiable condition. The monk started on his errand, but in the mean
time the gaolers of Gilles determined on putting an end to his life. They
twisted a cloth round his neck, and smothered him between two mattresses
while he slept. The monks of Bosquen carried his body to their abbey for
interment, and the wooden effigy that was placed over his grave is still
preserved in the Museum at St. Brieuc. The monk who had received Gilles’s
confession went in quest of Duke Francis, who, on hearing of his brother’s
death when at Avranches, had left for Saint Michel. The monk met him on
the Grève, and cited him in the name of his brother "de la part du Messire
Gilles" to appear within fifty days at the tribunal of Heaven to answer
for his murder. The menace was realised. Duke Francis died within the
appointed time, struck with remorse, and terrified at the summons of the
Cordelier. The monk was never seen again. On the death of Gilles, the Duke
of Brittany himself wished to marry Françoise, but she would not listen to
his proposals; and at last was obliged, in order to recover her liberty,
to marry the aged Comte de Laval, father of her betrothed, with whom she
lived peacefully thirty years, and had three sons. Duke Francis II.
appointed her to the charge of rearing his daughter Anne.
Arthur Montauban turned monk to avoid the vengeance of Duke Peter, brother
of Gilles, and eventually became Archbishop of Bordeaux. The Pope gave him
the Abbey of Rédon, but popular indignation prevented him from accepting
the appointment.
On our return from Montafilant we stopped to visit the Lunatic Asylum
(Asile des aliénés), called Les Bas Foins, kept by the brothers of
Saint-Jean-de-Dieu. There are six hundred inmates under the charge of
about sixty brethren. The buildings, with the chapel, are very handsome
and most complete in all the arrangements. Within the enclosure is a large
piece of land. The lunatics are employed in agricultural, garden, and
house occupations; they look very contented and happy. Visitors are not
allowed to speak to them. We omitted seeing the Croix du Saint Esprit, a
curiously sculptured Gothic granite cross of the fourteenth century, not
far from the asylum.
The castle of Dinan is now a prison. It was occupied by the Queen-Duchess
Anne, when on her way to a pilgrimage to Notre Dame-du-Folgoët, in
fulfilment of a vow made during the illness of Louis XII. In the chapel is
shewn a sculptured seat, still called the arm-chair of the Duchess Anne.
Within these walls were crammed, in the last century, about 2000 English
prisoners of war, many of whom fell victims to a contagious fever. From
the platform of the keep we had a magnificent view of the surrounding
country, extending to Mont Dol and the sea.
The church of St. Sauveur has a richly sculptured Romanesque portal. It
contains the heart of Du Guesclin, transferred from the church of the
Dominicans, where he desired it to be interred by the side of his wife
Tiphaine. His body was buried at St. Denis, in a tomb King Charles V.
caused to be made in his lifetime, and he left orders that on his death
his Constable should repose at his feet. On the dark-coloured monumental
stone now incrusted on the wall, are roughly sculptured his arms (an eagle
displayed charged with a cotice(3)), with a commemorative inscription in
gold letters:—
“Cy: gist: le cueur: de
Missire: bertram: du gueaquī
en: son vivāt: conētiable de
france: qui: trepassa: le: xiii^e
jour: de: jullet: l’an: mil iii^e
IIII^xx dont: son: corps: repos
avecques: ceulx: des: Roys
a sainct: denis en France.”
Above hangs a painting representing the Governor of Châteauneuf Randon,
laying the keys of the town upon the dead body of the Constable.(4)
[Illustration: 13. Effigy of Jean de Beaumanoir.]
Many of the streets of Dinan preserve the character of the Middle Ages,
the houses upon columns forming a kind of porch or covered way; and most
curious of all is the dirty, steep, narrow, winding street, called the Rue
de Jerzual, a ravine extending from the top of the town, in one pitch, to
the river’s edge. The Museum at the Mairie has an interesting collection
of tumulary slabs—recumbent figures taken from different churches and
abbeys, mostly from the Beaumanoir chapel of the Abbey of Lehon. There is
one of Jean de Beaumanoir, son of the hero of the "Combat des Trente,"
treacherously slain by his steward. He is represented in full armour, but
with his head bare, to indicate the manner of his death. The effigy of his
wife is also in complete armour, but on the belt that encircles her waist,
like those worn by the knights, is sculptured a wreath of roses. She was a
Du Guesclin by birth, and her feet repose upon an eagle, the bearing of
her house. The statue of Roland, Vicomte de Dinan, one of the nine great
Barons of Brittany in the twelfth century, is of gigantic proportions; the
warrior is clad from head to foot in chain mail, but he holds one of his
gauntlets in his hand. In the Museum is also a clock given to the city of
Dinan by the Duchess Anne, inscribed with the name of its maker and the
date of its construction: "1498, à Nantes par M. Hainzer de cette ville."
The ancient bronze standard measures (étalons) of Dinan are decorated with
the arms of the City, and Gothic inscriptions in relief, "Cart (quart) à
gros blé pour Dinan"—"Cart à fourmant (froment) pour Dinan"—and "Bouesceau
à scel (boisseau à sel) pour Dinan." Portraits of Du Guesclin and other
Breton worthies are in one of the rooms (Salle de l’Odéon). That of the
Constable answers to the description given of his appearance. He was low
in stature, with large Breton head, broad shoulders, long arms, and large
hands. His eyes were green, and his complexion swarthy: "la peau noire
comme un sanglier."
[Illustration: 14. Château of La Bellière.]
The drives round Dinan are endless in variety,(5) and all beautiful. We
took a carriage to see the Château of la Bellière, about five miles and a
half from Dinan, formerly the residence of Du Guesclin’s wife, the
celebrated Lady Tiphaine; her name answers probably to our English
Tiffany:—
“William de Coningsby—
Came out of Brittany
With his wife Tiffany
And her maid Manifas
And his doggs Hardigras.”
[Illustration: 15. Chimney. Château of La Bellière.]
The Lady Tiphaine was heiress and daughter of the Vicomte de Bellière; so
deeply versed was she in astrology, she was called Tiphaine la Fée. During
her husband’s absence in Spain, she resided at Mont Saint Michel, having
chosen this insulated spot for the facilities it afforded her of studying
the stars. She gave Du Guesclin a calendar on vellum, containing verses at
the beginning of each month, pointing out the lucky and unlucky days; how
many she marked down as such, we know not. Tycho Brahe had thirty-two
fatal days in his calendar. Had Du Guesclin consulted this precious
volume, which is now preserved in the Library at Avranches, he would never
have risked his fortune by fighting the battle of Auray on the Feast of
St. Michel, one of the fatal days against which she specially warns him in
her book. We wished to have seen the room where she died, and where many
memorials of her are preserved; but the proprietor was at his déjeuner,
and would not grant us admittance, so we were forced to be content with
seeing the exterior of the house, a château of the end of the fourteenth
century. It stands on the edge of a large sheet of water, in the midst of
trees on the roadside between Dinan and St. Malo. Its principal
characteristics are its tall octagonal chimney-shafts, composed of
granite, brick, and slate. They are surmounted by pieces of slate placed
edgeways and forming a kind of capital or coronet to the granite shaft.
Some of the chimneys have two circles of these coronets, and others are
enriched with little rows of arches, of which the sombre slate background
throws out the delicate ornamentation. Recrossing the magnificent viaduct,
we proceeded to visit the Benedictine Priory of Lehon, called in the
country "Chapelle des Beaumanoirs" from the mortuary chapel of that family
attached to the abbey:—
“Beaumanoir! à ce nom de glorieux prodiges
Des siècles écoulés réveillent les prestiges:
La pierre des tombeaux a paru se mouvoir
Et des trente Bretons les clameurs belliqueuses
Semblent répondre, sous ces voûtes fameuses,
A ce grand nom de Beaumanoir.” —AUBRY.
The west front, with its round-arched portal surmounted by a large Gothic
window, is very pretty. The chapel of the Beaumanoirs was ravaged at the
Revolution, the lead of the coffins sold, and the bones scattered. The
statues have since been removed to the Museum at Dinan, and the crypt
beneath, where they were buried, is inaccessible. At the Revolution, when
the monks were expelled, the priory was sold and used for a spinning
factory; and the weight of the machines crushed the floors, so as to shut
up the entrance to the vaults. In the parish church adjacent, is to be
noticed an ancient baptismal font, of cylindrical form, sculptured within
and without. We returned home by the Château du Chêne-Ferron, approached
by an avenue of firs, and had a lovely drive along the banks of the Rance.
Our last excursion in Dinan was to the Château of La Garaye, rendered
famous by the virtues and boundless charity of its last proprietors, Count
Claude Toussaint Marot de la Garaye and his wife, whose interesting story
is told in the charming poem of Mrs. Norton:—
“Listen to the tale I tell,
Grave the story is—not sad,
And the peasant plodding by
Greets the place with kindly eye,
For the inmates that it had.”
THE LADY OF LA GARAYE.
Count Claude de la Garaye and his wife were young, beautiful, and endowed
with friends, riches, and all that could make life bright and happy. They
entertained with hospitality, and enjoyed the pleasures and amusements of
the world; when one day the Countess was thrown from her horse, the
expectations of an heir vanished, and she was left a cripple for life.
Both were inconsolable for their disappointment. One day a monk came to
visit them, and tried to comfort them, seeking by his converse to turn
their thoughts from earthly affections to heavenly consolation—
"Ah! my father," said the lady, "how happy are you, to love nothing on
earth!"
"You are mistaken," answered the monk; "I love all those who are in sorrow
or suffering, and I submit myself to the will of the Almighty, and bend
myself with resignation to every blow He strikes."
He proceeded to show them there was still great happiness in store for
them, in ministering to the comforts of others. Following his counsel,
they went to Paris; for three years the Count studied medicine and
surgery, and his wife became a skilful oculist. On their return to La
Garaye, they gave up all the amusements of society, and devoted themselves
to relieving the sufferings of their fellow creatures. Their house was
converted into an hospital for the sick and the wounded, under the
ministering care of the Count and his benevolent wife:—
“Her home is made their home; her wealth their dole;
Her busy courtyard hears no more the roll
Of gilded vehicles, or pawing steeds,
But feeble steps of those whose bitter needs
Are their sole passport. Through that gateway pass
All varying forms of sickness and distress,
And many a poor worn face that hath not smiled
For years,—and many a feeble crippled child,—
Blesses the tall, white portal where they stand,
And the dear Lady of the liberal hand.”
THE LADY OF LA GARAYE.
Nor was their philanthropy confined to their own province. In 1720, they
offered themselves to M. de Belzunce—"Marseilles’ good bishop"—to assist
him during the visitation of the Plague. The fame of their virtues reached
even the French Court, and Louis XV. sent Count de la Garaye the order of
St. Lazarus with a donation of 50,000 livres and a contract on the post of
25,000 more.
They both died at an advanced age, within two years of each other, and
were buried among their poor at Taden, but their marble mausoleum in the
church was destroyed in the French Revolution. Count de la Garaye(6) left
a large sum to be distributed among the prisoners, principally English, at
Rennes and Dinan, who were suffering pent up in these crowded gaols. The
Comte had attended the English prisoners at Dinan during a contagious
fever, called the "peste blanche," and, in acknowledgment of his humanity,
Queen Caroline sent him two dogs with silver collars round their necks,
and an English nobleman made him a present of six more.
[Illustration: 16. Château of La Garaye.]
The ruined château is approached by an ivy-covered gateway, through an
avenue of beeches:—
“Le lierre flottant comme un manteau de deuil,
Couvre à demi la porte et rampe sur le seuil.”
LAMARTINE, _Harmonies Poëtiques_.
or, as Mrs. Norton renders it:—
“And like a mourner’s mantle, with sad grace,
Waves the dark ivy—hiding half the door
And threshold, where the weary traveller’s foot
Shall never find a courteous welcome more.”
It is fast falling to pieces. The principal part remaining is an octagonal
turret of three stories, with elegant Renaissance decoration round the
windows. One more quotation from Mrs. Norton, and we quit these hallowed
ruins:—
“We know the healthy stir of human life
Must be for ever gone!
The walls where hung the warrior’s shining casque
Are green with moss and mould;
The blindworm coils where Queens have slept, nor asks
For shelter from the cold.
The swallow,—he is master all the day,
And the great owl is ruler through the night;
The little bat wheels on his circling way,
With restless flittering flight;
And that small bat, and the creeping things,
At will they come and go,
And the soft white owl with velvet wings,
And a shout of human woe!
The brambles let no footsteps pass
By that rent in the broken stair,
When the pale tufts of the windle-strae grass
Hang like locks of dry dead hair;
But there the keen sound ever sweeps and moans,
“Working a passage through the mouldering stones.”
THE LADY OF LA GARAYE.
From Dinan, instead of taking the customary road to the railway station of
Caulnes, we hired a carriage, in order to visit the fortress castle of La
Hunaudaye, midway between Dinan and Lamballe. The road lay by Jugon, a
town prettily situated in the cleft of two hills. On one once stood an
important castle, which gave rise to the saying:—
“Qui a Bretagne sans Jugon,
A chape sans chaperon.”
Jugon is on the edge of two ponds. One of them, the largest in Brittany,
hangs suspended over the town, as if threatening it with inundation. They
told us it was swarming with fish of every description, and with pike of
fabulous dimensions. Turning off the road to the right, we entered the
forest of La Hunaudaye, and walked in a pouring rain to the château,
situated a short distance from the road. It is of vast extent, has five
round towers with ramparts of cut stone, and is surrounded by walls with
machicolated parapets. It is a splendid ruin, but the incessant rain
prevented us from spending much time in its examination. It was built in
the thirteenth century by Olivier de la Tournemine, and was one of the
strongest fortresses in Brittany. Situated in the midst of a vast forest,
its lord and his retainers were the terror of the surrounding country. No
traveller passed untaxed; all were compelled to pay toll. In 1504, the
Bishop of St. Brieuc complains to the Parliament at Rennes that,
regardless of the safeguard of the Duke, the foresters of the Lord of La
Hunaudaye had carried off his horses, trunks, and baggage, and, a year
later, they had the audacity to stop the Queen-Duchess Anne on her way to
a pilgrimage to the Folgoët. The Queen was conducted to the presence of
the Lord of La Hunaudaye, who maintained to her that he had only exercised
his right of exacting a ransom from all who passed through the forest
without his permission, but that he waived his privilege in favour of his
Sovereign. Be that as it may, he received her Majesty most royally, as the
old chaplain, Oliver de la Roche recounts, and gave a splendid banquet,
which he fully describes. The table, he says, was four times covered with
thirty-six dishes of viands, and lastly, was brought in, "en grande
vénération," by eight squires, a whole calf, standing on its legs, well
seasoned, with an orange in its mouth; and, when it appeared, the trumpets
sounded so loud that it seemed as if the walls shook. On seeing the
"dainty dish" that was "set before the Queen," all wished to have a share;
and the chaplain relates, with great satisfaction, how he was served
himself twice by the Lord of La Hunaudaye.
The dark deeds of the lords of La Hunaudaye have given rise to many a
legend. The following is a translation of one of the most popular:—
LEGEND OF LA HUNAUDAYE.
_(Translation.)_
“When the rock eagle wakes,
And the towers of Hunaudaye
Gleam like three phantom forms
In the morning’s sunlight ray;
When night her darksome wing
Folds round this desert waste,
Shun all this cursed ground—
Traveller flee thou in haste.
“There once—Great Heaven shield
Us all! and no ill arise—
There once—Hush! leave me not;
Hear you, from the ground, low sighs?—
There once—wrapped in the gloom
Of a dark and rainy night,
A man of haughty mien
Knocked at the door of might.
“’Open!’ cried he,—it turns
On groaning hinge. The rain
Pours, but the frightened guards
Mark neither spot nor stain
On his purple cloak—nor his plumes
Droop wet, yet the torrents fall
Wildly and fast to night,
Beating the castle wall.
“The baron, stern and sad,
Was in his tower alone,
Pacing, with mailed heel,
Upon the echoing stone:
Cried he—’What stranger seeks,
This hour, my castle drear?
Ho! Oliver, Ho! Ralph,
See who intrudeth here.’
“’Heaven shield thee, baron brave!
A strange knight in the hall
Craves audience.’ ’Lead him here:
Stay thou and Ralph in call,
At need.’ Silent and slow
The purple-mantled knight,
Advancing, paused—his looks
Gleaming unearthly bright.
“’Who art thou coming thus,
Loud clamouring at my gate,
Thou truly puissant knight,
With not one squire for state?
Knowst thou at word of mine—’
The stranger knight smiled stern,
Replied in awful voice,
’Would’st thou my name? now learn:
Here is my train—behold!’
He cried. There hideous stood
One spectre, then two more—
A sight to chill the blood—
Unveiled their features pale,
All three in cere-cloth dressed,
Opening all wide to point
Where blood flowed from the breast.
“’Baron, these are my guard,’
Said the unknown—’Here, lo!
Thy father’s aged form,
By poignard stroke laid low;
Here thy wife, cruelly slain
In the year thy brother fell;
They stand, pale, bleeding, stiff,—
Their murderer, can’st thou tell?’
“The phantoms three enlaced
The trembling baron round;
He vainly shrieked,—the walls
With demon laughs resound;
The echoing thunders rolled
Along the valley deep;
Lightnings, when pale dawn broke,
Blasted the castle keep.
“It stands a blackened pile;
The ruined gate is there.
But the sky lowers dark,
Oh! traveller flee, beware;
At this hour the shades of night
Brood o’er the solemn gloom.
Traveller, haste, oh! haste;
Leave this abode of doom.”
It was in the forest of La Hunaudaye that the Chouans of the Côtes du Nord
were secretly exercised and drilled by their chief, La Rouërie, under the
name of Gosselin, who died of horror on hearing of the execution of
thirteen of his confederates betrayed by the physician Chaftal. Gosselin
was succeeded by the "Cid" of the Chouan chiefs, Boishardy, called the
"Sorcier," who, after his interview with General Humbert, was betrayed and
shot by the "Bleus." For twelve years was Brittany cut off from France by
this Chouan war, an insurrection even more formidable than that of La
Vendée. The peninsular position of Brittany, its vast extent of coasts,
its forests, its mountains, its people, speaking a strange language,
entirely under the subjection of the priests, rendered it peculiarly
adapted to carry on a war against the republicans; a war, the whole object
of which was to upset all order, by preventing the citizens from accepting
office under the republic, by punishing those who acquired national
property, by stopping couriers and all public conveyances, destroying
bridges, breaking up roads, assassinating public officers, and executing
horrible punishments on those who sent provisions into the towns.
The castle of La Hunaudaye was destroyed by order of the Commune of
Lamballe, in 1793, that it might not serve as a retreat for the Chouans.
We arrived very wet at Lamballe, a town most picturesquely situated on the
declivity of a granite cliff, surmounted by a handsome church, rising from
the very edge of the rocks. It formed part of the territory of the Duke of
Penthièvre, whose heiress, Jeanne la Boiteuse, married Charles of Blois,
the competitor with John de Montfort(7) for the dukedom of Brittany. More
tenacious of her rights than her husband, Jeanne would never listen to any
compromise. After the treaty of Bretigny, the kings of England and France
proposed a division of the duchy between the two rivals; but, intimidated
by his wife, Charles dared not consent; and again, before the battle of
Auray, when a division was agreed upon, subject to the acceptance of the
Countess, Jeanne exclaimed, "My husband makes too cheap a bargain of what
is not his own." And she wrote to Charles, "Do what you please. I am a
woman, and cannot do more; but I had rather lose my life, or two if I had
them, before I would consent to so reproachable an act, to the shame of my
family" (_des miens_). Later she said to him, "Preserve me your heart, but
preserve me also my duchy, and, happen what may, act so that the
sovereignty remains to me entire." Her pride and obstinacy cost her
husband his life. The name of Lamballe is associated with the memory of
the unfortunate Princesse de Savoie de Carignan, the sad victim of
revolutionary fury. On the death of her husband, the Prince de Lamballe,
the vast estates of the Penthièvre family passed to his sister, the wife
of Philippe Egalité, and from her descended to Louis Philippe, King of the
French.
[Illustration: 17. Section of Lanleff Church.]
Next day we made an excursion to the famed Temple of Lanleff, in Breton,
the "land of tears," situated in a retired valley about six miles from the
sea. According to the tradition of the country, it was built by "Les
moines rouges," as they style the Templar Knights. The road was
incessantly up and down hill, as we afterwards found they are throughout
Brittany; a "pays accidenté" it may be truly called. The chapel of Lanleff
is composed of two concentric circular enclosures separated by twelve
round arches, with cushion-shaped capitals, having heads, human and
animal, rudely sculptured upon them at the four angles. Its whole diameter
is about twenty-two feet. It was probably built by some Templar Knight in
the beginning of the twelfth century on his return from the Holy Land. The
number of arches may allude to that of the twelve Apostles.
[Illustration: 18. Plan of Lanleff Church.]
The parish church was built into the east side of the temple, the only
part which has preserved its roof, and which served as a vestibule to the
more modern building. A gigantic yew formerly grew in the central
enclosure, and overshadowed it with its spreading branches; but the parish
church has been taken down and rebuilt in another part of the village, and
the yew-tree has disappeared.
Close to the temple is a spring enclosed by flagstones. When moistened,
they appear covered with blood-stained spots. According to the tradition,
in olden times an unnatural father sold his child to the Evil One. The
gold received for the bargain was counted out upon the side of the spring,
and the accursed money left its print upon the stones. A bare-legged
peasant who stood by with her pitcher, threw some water over the stones,
and immediately there appeared round red spots of different
sizes—indelible marks of the diabolical bargain. We went into a cottage
close by, and had some boiled eggs and cider. The inmates were at their
meal—a bowl of milk, into which they broke their buckwheat "galette." We
were much struck with the jealous pertinacity of the Breton, to show he
considers himself as of a different people and country to the rest of
France, a feeling which more than three hundred years has not dissipated.
Our driver would talk of Bretons and French as of distinct nations, and
the Normans in this part of Brittany are the special objects of hatred,
originating, perhaps, in the former subjection of Brittany to Normandy.
When Charles the Simple ceded to the fierce Northmen the province now
known by their name, their sovereignty extended over Brittany, and the
dukes of Normandy did homage for both provinces to the King of France. The
Bretons struggled hard against the supremacy of the Barbarians, but
eventually had to acknowledge the Duke of Normandy as their sovereign
lord.
St. Brieuc, principal town of the department of the Côtes-du-Nord, has
been described as an old town with a new face. Though one of the oldest in
Brittany, it has little of antiquity to detain the traveller. The Palais
de Justice is a handsome building, in the midst of a pretty garden,
commanding a view of the Tour de Cesson, lower down the river (the Gouët),
a large circular tower built by Duke John IV., and blown up by Henry IV.,
at the desire of the Briochins, as the inhabitants of St. Brieuc style
themselves. The mine split it in two, and the part that remains serves as
a landmark for the pilots between St. Brieuc and its port, about two miles
distant, called Légué. Notre Dame d’Espérance is a pretty church, rebuilt
about ten years since, with a calvary in front, and a series of painted
windows representing the principal saints of Brittany, and the most
celebrated pilgrimages of the Virgin in that province. At St. Brieuc,
1689, James II. of England reviewed his little army, and was received with
royal honours by the bishop of the place.
We proceeded by the railway to Guingamp, next to St. Brieuc, the principal
town of the department, capital of the duchy of Penthièvre. It is situated
in the richly wooded and cultivated valley of the Trieux, a favourite
fishing river of considerable size, and affording trout, salmon, and dace,
from Guingamp to Paimpol, where it falls into the sea, a distance of
twenty miles. It runs through the centre of the town, and is here a
considerable stream.
Attached to the Cathedral is the venerated sanctuary of Notre
Dame-du-Bon-Secours, one of the most celebrated places of pilgrimage in
Brittany. The pardon takes place the Saturday before the first Sunday in
July, and owes its origin to the brotherhood called the "Frérie blanche,"
an association of which Duke Peter accepted the title of lay-abbot. The
motto embroidered on their banner was (in Breton) "A triple cord is not
easily broken." The triple cord being emblematic of the three
estates—clergy, nobles, and laity—in whose unity consisted the strength of
Brittany. The Frérie blanche no longer exists, the triple cable is broken,
the pilgrimage alone remains.
[Illustration: 19. Fountain of Duke Peter.]
La Pompe, or the fountain of Duke Peter, as it is called, is of later
dater date, being in the style of the Renaissance. It consists of three
circular basins in tiers. On the lower are sea-horses, which, with their
wings, support the second basin, and Naiads uphold the third. On the top
is a figure of the Virgin with her arms extended.
The women of Guingamp wear high muslin caps, dark petticoats, and black
stockings. Knitting-pins in hand, they work away at their stockings
whether walking, talking, or with a load of butter on their heads, as they
do throughout all Brittany. When not at work, their knitting-pins are
stuck in their hair. Knitting and spinning are the occupation of their
lives. When the Breton’s idol, Du Guesclin, was a prisoner to the Black
Prince, and was asked how he could raise the large sum named for his
ransom, Du Guesclin replied, that "the women of Brittany would rather spin
for a year and ransom him with their distaffs, than that he should remain
prisoner."
“Quand vous étiez captif, Bertrand, fils de Bretagne,
Tous les fuseaux tournaient aussi dans la campagne;
Chaque femme apporte son écheveau de lin;
Ce fut votre rançon, messire Du Guesclin!”
_Les Bretons_, A. BRIZEUX.
Guingamp was given by Duke John V. to his son Peter, who resided here and
rebuilt the castle. When attacked by his mortal illness, the physicians
attributed his malady to witchcraft, and declared it could only be
remedied by counter-spells. The Prince refused to have recourse to such
means, saying, "I had rather die by the will of God, than live by the will
of the Devil."—"J’aime mieux mourir de par Dieu, que de vivre de par le
Diable."
We walked to the small chapel of St. Léonard, picturesquely situated on a
little eminence. It was built by Charles of Blois, on his return from his
captivity in England, and dedicated by him to St. Léonard, the
patron-saint of prisoners—a contemporary of Clovis, from whom he obtained
permission to set free all the captives he should find in the prisons. In
the month of May, people who are attacked with fever repair to St. Léonard
to seek, upon the walls of the chapel or on the calvary attached to it,
snails as cures for their malady. They must gather them themselves, pound
them, and put them into little bags, which they wear round their necks. As
soon as the fever leaves them they bury their bags at the foot of the
walls of the chapel, and, if they fail to perform this ceremony, the fever
will return. We found quantities of these bags, made of coarse linen,
lying half-buried under the walls of the chapel. There is a pardon here
every year, on which occasion only the chapel is opened.
We took a carriage to Paimpol. On our way we stopped at the Château de
Boisgelin, belonging to the Marquis of the same name, but could not obtain
admittance. On to the Abbey of Beauport (Sancta Maria de Bello Porto),
founded in the thirteenth century, beautifully situated on a tongue of
land at the entrance of the Bay of Paimpol, opposite the island of
Saint-Rion. In its large garden, which extends down to the sea, are
planted myrtles, figs, mulberries, and other trees of the south of Europe.
Beauport has been called the Chartreuse of Brittany. It is a lovely
secluded spot, as, indeed, are most of the sites of the old abbeys,
varying in aspect, but always beautiful. No description can give an idea
of the magnificent panoramic views from the walls of the abbey.
[Illustration: 20. Abbey of Beauport.]
M. Merimée justly observes, "It appears strange that, in so early a stage
of civilisation, the monks should be so alive to the beauties of nature.
The contemplative habits of monastic life must at all times have imparted
to the mind a feeling of abstract beauty, independent of any idea of real
utility. Secure of an uniform, peaceful existence, limited in his
pleasures and his ambition, sheltered by his sacred office, above others,
from the reverses of fortune, the monk of the thirteenth century was in a
position to love, and did love, beauty for itself. And while the knight,
at war with all the world, thought only on building an impregnable
fortress, the abbot embellished his dwelling, and tasted the enjoyments
afforded by imagination and the arts. "The abbey of Beauport is built in
the pointed style, and is a perfect example of the monastic architecture
of the thirteenth century—the most important and most beautiful convent
ruins in Brittany. The original disposition of its buildings may yet be
clearly traced. These abbeys were all built upon the same plan. In the
centre was the square garden (préau), surrounded by the cloisters. On the
south side the church, extending from west to east; on the north, the
refectory, with the kitchen attached. On the east was the chapter-house,
and some small apartments; above these were the dormitories. Outside was
the interior court, reserved for the brethren, and beyond, the great
court, into which the provisions were brought, and round which were the
stables and farm buildings. The garden, orchard, mill, oven, dovecote,
cider-press, &c., were all within the walled enclosure, for the abbeys
were not merely convents dedicated solely to devotional exercises. After
prayer followed labour. The Breton abbeys were quite model farms; the
woods and the commons afforded the means of rearing cattle to those who
had the privilege of pasturage in the forests. Many had also the right of
acorns and beech-mast for their pigs (_droit au gland et à la faîne_). One
abbey, that of Morimond (Haute Marne), is recorded to have had twenty
piggeries, of three hundred pigs each, distributed in its forests. The
monks also reared sheep and horses, and fattened fish in their ponds. They
were the first who advanced the science of horticulture and the
cultivation of vegetables. To these agricultural pursuits were added, in
many convents, the industrial arts, and some of the brethren were brewers,
curriers, fullers, weavers, shoemakers, carpenters, and blacksmiths. Their
cultivation of the liberal arts and sciences is well known. During the
Middle Ages the monasteries were the sole depositories of learning.
Beauport is now occupied by a Polish lady, Countess Poninsky, who allows
no one to enter the abbey, as her husband was buried in the church.
Two or three miles further we reached Paimpol, where we remained the
night, at a nice hotel. Paimpol is a seaport town prettily situated in a
cultivated country on the bay that bears its name. Its inhabitants are
employed in the mackerel and Iceland fisheries. The women about here wear
close straw-bonnets. They all, in this department, ride on horseback, "à
califourchon," like the men.
We hired our carriage on to Tréguier. At Lézardrieux we passed the estuary
of the Trieux, over a magnificent suspension-bridge, at a considerable
elevation above the water, vessels sail under it. It was built 1840, and
is 833 feet long, that is, 167 longer than the famed bridge of La Roche
Bernard (Loire Inférieure). The bridge swung frightfully when we passed
over it. In the churchyard of Pleudaniel is a pretty granite calvary, and
skulls are placed in recesses in the wall on each side of the
church-porch.
We next came to the Château of La Roche Jagu, on the summit of a hill
overhanging the river Trieux and defending the entrance. It has more of
the character of a "maison forte" than of a "manoir," as was termed the
habitation of a knight, and of those who holding a fief, yet did not
possess the seignorial right to a castle with towers and donjon. The
manoir might be enclosed by walls and moats, but not with towers. The
entrance on the side opposite to the river is through a large walled court
by a low Gothic doorway, closed by an enormous iron grating of upright and
horizontal bars of great thickness, hanging on four hinges, and secured by
four locks; all the windows have gratings of the same kind. A stone
staircase leads to the one story, consisting of a suite of large rooms
half lighted by narrow windows. Some of these are occupied by the keeper
of the castle and others are reserved for the use of the proprietor, the
Marquis d’Argentré, and, when he goes there, are decorated and partly
furnished with the pieces of old tapestry lying about. At the end of these
rooms is a turret, which communicates with a covered gallery surmounting
the whole length of the façade facing the river, and commanding a
beautiful view of the windings of the silvery Trieux and of its
fir-clothed banks. This gallery is furnished with battlements, and served
the double purpose of a rampart and an observatory. The wall on the
river-side is fifteen feet thick, and a chapel hewn in the thickness of
the wall is lighted by a Gothic window looking over the Trieux. Fourteen
elegant chimney-shafts of cut stone, cylindrical in form, and ornamented
with iron spikes, give a most original character to the building. The
château belonged to the Maréchal Duc de Richelieu, who sold it in 1773 to
the Tressan family, under the stipulation that its subterranean passages
should not be explored. They are said to extend under the bed of the river
to the Château of Frinandour, half a league distant.
We next passed through Pontrieux, a pretty, small town, seated in a deep
valley, the river Trieux flowing through it. The river here is famous for
salmon, and there is a considerable commerce in its little port.
La Roche-Derrien on the Jaudy, during the War of Succession in Brittany,
was a castle of some celebrity. It was here Charles of Blois was taken
prisoner by the English, who, under Sir Thomas Dagworth, were in
possession of the place. Charles of Blois assembled a large army, and
attacked them by night. Three times was he rescued, and three times
retaken; he had received eighteen wounds, and was at last compelled to
surrender. Jeanne de Montfort, like all women who hate, was very
vindictive, and caused her illustrious prisoner to be ignominiously
dragged to Quimperlé, Vannes, and Hennebont, whence he was transferred to
London, and confined in the Tower. It was nine years before he regained
his liberty. Meanwhile his heroic wife, Jeanne de Penthièvre, became head
of his party, as Jeanne de Flandre was that of the De Montfort. The "War
of the two Jeannes" continued for nine years, during which they fought
with fierceness and courage, and ruled with ability. Curious,—the history
of France was illustrated in this century by five heroines of the name of
Jeanne: Jeanne d’Arc, Jeanne Hachette of Beauvais, and the Jeannes of
Penthièvre, Flandre, and Clisson, who made themselves famous in Brittany.
On his release, Charles of Blois gave La Roche-Derrien to Du Guesclin.
The castle was demolished, but a calvary has been built on the site.
Not far from La Roche-Derrien is the church of Langoat, which contains the
monument of Ste. Pompée (1370), mother of St. Tugdual. On the granite tomb
reposes her marble effigy, and around it bas-reliefs in Gothic niches
represent the life of the saint. In all the churches in this district,
tressels are placed in the nave ready for funerals. The gravestones have
in each a little hollow well, to contain water for sprinkling over the
grave, or in some a small basin is set upon the gravestone, with a sprig
of box laid by the side, for the same pious purpose.
Every one must be struck by the excellence of the roads in Brittany, as
indeed throughout France; in no instance does the French administrative
talent more fully display itself. The roads are of three classes: the
"routes impériales," under the care of the Government; "départementales,"
kept entirely at the expense of the department; and the "chemins
vicinaux," which belong to the communes or parishes, and which all the
inhabitants are called upon to support. To each lieue de poste (two and a
half miles), is appointed a "cantonnier" or road-keeper, who is
responsible for the condition of the length of road assigned to his care.
We stopped at Kermartin, a farmhouse near Tréguier, to see the bed said to
have belonged to St. Ives, the favourite saint of the Bretons, and whose
name is borne by the majority of the inhabitants of the district of
Tréguier and St. Brieuc. Charles of Blois held him in great veneration. He
gave part of a rib of St. Ives to the church at Lamballe, and carried the
relic in procession barefooted to the church. Before the battle of Auray,
he ordered his men to march "in the name of God and St. Yves."
St. Ives, or Yves Hélory, was one of the most remarkable characters of the
thirteenth century. He studied law in the schools of Paris, and applied
his talents in defending the cause of the poor; hence he was called "the
poor man’s advocate;" and so great to this day is the confidence placed in
his justice, that, in the department of the Côtes-du-Nord, when a debtor
falsely denies his debt, a peasant will pay twenty sous for a mass to St.
Yves, convinced that St. Yves will cause the faithless creditor to die
within the year. His truthfulness was such, he was called St. Yves de
Verité. He is the special patron of lawyers, and always represented in the
"mortier," or lawyer’s cap, with an ermine-trimmed scarlet robe.
“Saint Yves était Breton,
Avocat et pas larron,
Chose rare, se dit-on.”
Lawyers, says a writer, take him for a patron, but not for a model. Philip
le Hardi, in acknowledgment of his worth, granted him a pension of six
deniers a day—in those times a considerable sum.
Over this house is a marble tablet with this inscription:—
“Ici est né le 17 Oct^r 1253, et est mort le 19 Mai 1303,
SAINT YVES,
Officiel de Tréguier, curé de Tredretz et de Lohannec. Sa maison, qui a
subsisté jusqu’en l’année 1834, ayant été alors demolie à cause de
vetusté, Mg^r Hyacinthe Louis de Quelen, Arch^vque de Paris, et
propriétaire des domaines de Kermartin, a fait placer cette inscription,
afin qu’un lieu sanctifié par la presence d’un si grand serviteur de
Dieu ne demeurât pas inconnu (1837).”
The house is a good specimen of a Breton dwelling; by the side of the
fire, in the one room of which most of these cottages consist, fixed
against the wall like the berth of a ship, stands the bedstead or "lit
clos" of old oak, shut in by carved and well-waxed sliding panels, often
inscribed with the sacred monogram. The two mattresses, paillasse, and
"cossette de plume," are piled up to such a height as barely to admit of
its tenants creeping into the bed. In front is the customary chest,
containing the family wardrobe, answering the double purpose of a seat and
the means of ascending into the bed. Often we have seen cupboards on each
side of the large chimney with two shelves, which served as beds for the
juvenile members of the family. Forms and a polished table complete the
furniture; the last has frequently little wells hollowed in the top, used,
instead of plates, to hold the soup. Over the table, suspended by pulleys,
are two indispensable articles in a Breton dwelling—a large circular
basket to cover the bread, and a kind of wooden frame or rack, round which
the spoons are ranged. Forks they do not use. Festoons of sausages, with
hams, bacon, candles, skins of lard, onions, horse-shoes, harness, all
hang suspended from the ceiling, which consists of fagots of hazel
suspended by cross-poles. The floor is of beaten earth. One narrow window
admits the light, and there are no outhouses. The manure-heap is generally
at the house-door, and the pigs and poultry seem on an equally intimate
footing as they are in our Irish cabins. The Breton’s cottage has often no
garden, to occupy his leisure hours; and the men, after their daily work,
resort to the cabaret to spend their time and their earnings. Agriculture
is very backward in Brittany, but the land produces abundance of corn. It
is thrashed out direct from the field, on a clay floor (aire). Beet-root
and clover grow very luxuriantly, and in some fields the pretty red clover
(_Trifolium incarnatum_) carpets the country with its crimson flowers.
Near the farmhouse of Kermartin is the parish church of Minihy-Tréguier,
formerly a chapel founded by St. Ives and attached to the "manoir." The
will of St. Ives is framed and hung up in the church, and his breviary is
also preserved here; but the guide said it was now kept at the priest’s
house, as people were in the habit of taking away a leaf as a relic.
Minihy, _i. e._ Monk’s House, is a name given to those places which,
through the intercession of some saint, had the right of sanctuary. They
were marked with a red cross, and, how great soever the crime, were
regarded as inviolable. In 1441 the right of sanctuary was restricted to
churches; before, it was extended to towns and districts. Tréguier had the
privilege within a radius of twelve miles from the town. St. Malo also
possessed the right of sanctuary. Tréguier is one of the four bishoprics
that formed the ancient divisions of Brittany. The others were Léon,
Cornouaille, and Vannes. The "pays de Tréguier" answers exactly to the
present department of the Côtes-du-Nord; Léon to the territory or
arrondissement of Brest and Morlaix; Cornouaille has Quimper and Carhaix
for its principal towns; and Vannes, the country of Celtic remains, is to
the south.
Tréguier is prettily situated on a hill, at the confluence of the rivers
Jaudy and Guindy; its principal building is the beautiful, imposing
cathedral, with its elegant spire, begun in the thirteenth century by St.
Yves, and dedicated to St. Tugdual, whose name, like St. Yves, is often
given in baptism to the Breton children. St. Yves is buried here, and also
Duke John V., who founded the Chapelle du Duc, and desired to be interred
at the feet of St. Yves, for whom he had a special regard, and to whom he
erected a magnificent tomb, for three centuries the object of veneration
in Brittany. The Duke paid for it his own weight in silver (389 marks 7
oz.), in 1424, to Maistre Jacques de Hougue. The victories of his father
John the Conqueror were chased in bas-relief round the tomb, which was
destroyed in 1793. Duke John V. was a contemptible prince, who eight times
changed his party from weakness rather than policy, and on whom Margaret
de Clisson and her sons retaliated the cowardly seizure of her father, the
Constable Clisson, by Duke John IV. One of the towers of the cathedral is
called the tower of Hastings, but its date is evidently subsequent to that
of the Norman freebooter. The cathedral has preserved its beautiful
cloisters, the work of the fifteenth century, although it has been ravaged
by the Normans of the ninth century, the English in the fourteenth, the
Spaniards in the sixteenth, and by the Revolutionists of 1793. It was the
port chosen by the Constable Clisson, 1387, for the invasion of England,
an expedition proposed and projected by himself. His hatred against the
English was so great, though educated in England, he was termed the
"boucher des Anglais." When the Duke of Brittany gave Chandos the château
of Gavre, which was within a league of Clisson’s château of Blain (Loire
Inférieure), "I will never," he exclaimed, "be the neighbour of the
English," and accordingly he sallied out one morning and burnt the castle
to the ground. Chandos complained to the Black Prince, who sent a letter
of remonstrance to Clisson, but it was only replied by a challenge to the
Prince to meet him in single combat. Clisson caused his own ship to be
built at Tréguier, and had constructed a tower or framework of large
timber, to be put together on his landing in England, for the lords to
retreat to as a place of safety, and to be lodged therein securely in the
event of a night attack. This tower, Froissart says, was so constructed,
that when dislodged it could be taken to pieces, and many carpenters and
other workmen were engaged, at very high wages, to go with it to England
to superintend the putting of it together. Four thousand men-at-arms and
2000 cross-bowmen were in readiness for the expedition, with horses,
vessels laden with wine, salted provisions, and other necessaries. All
these formidable preparations were rendered useless by the arrest of the
Constable the day before his embarkation. We went to the Cemetery, which
has its ossuary, reliquary, or bone-house, an inseparable appendage to a
Breton churchyard. It is the custom in Brittany, after a certain time, to
dig up the bones of the dead, and preserve their skulls in little square
boxes, like dog-kennels, with a heart-shaped opening through which the
skull is visible. They are all ticketed with the names and dates of the
deceased, as "Ci gît le chef de * * * D. c. D. (décédé) le * * * * *.
Priez Dieu pour son âme."
[Illustration: 21. Skull-box.]
These boxes sometimes occupy prominent places inside the churches or
porch, on window sills, the capitals of columns, and other ledges; but
more often are ranged in the ossuaries or charnel-houses built in the
churchyards to receive them, with a row of death’s-heads carved in the
stone outside. The large bones are also placed in the ossuaire. The rich
are buried in "enfeux" or arched recesses in the chapels or abbeys they
have founded.
We continued our carriage to Lannion, our driver not very clear of his
way, and in Brittany the road is very difficult to be discerned; for on
each side are high earthen banks, sometimes eight or ten feet high, and on
the top of these are planted timber-trees, such as oak, elm, and ash,
which often meet at the top, entirely intercepting the view, making these
narrow lanes a perfect slough and most intricate to thread. Sometimes they
are cut in irregular steps in the solid rock, and serve for the bed of a
stream. Each field is also surrounded by these hedgerow-trees, which are
cut every four or five years.
We drove to Perros Guirec, a lovely little watering-place built on a small
promontory with a safe harbour, whence wheat, hemp, and cattle are
exported to England; it is six miles from Lannion. A dangerous rock,
called Roche Bernard, is at its entrance. The view is lovely. From Perros
we scrambled over a hilly cart-road to Ploumanach, about three miles
distant—a wonderful spot, huge round erratic blocks of pink granite flung
over land and sea in the wildest confusion. The whole coast is one sea of
boulders, a chaos of rocks of all sizes cover the soil in every direction,
and in many places there is no soil at all, and the loose masses rest on a
bare bed of rock, stretching, in unbroken extent, to a great distance. "A
wanderer," says Mr. Trollope, "amid this strange and silent scene might
fancy himself the only living thing in the midst of a world turned to
stone. In every possible variety of uncouth form and capricious, strange
positions, the endless masses were around us."
“All is rocks at random thrown,
Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone."”
LORD OF THE ISLES.
One rock, surrounded at high water by the tide, is a square block of red
granite of thirty to forty feet high, placed on the top of a still higher
mass, on which it rests upon a very small base. It is called the "Roche
Pendue," and serves as a landmark for the fishermen. We took a small boat
full of fish resembling codlings or small cod, called "lieu," and were
rowed by the fishermen through a sea of granite boulders to the opposite
side of the Trégastel estuary, to see the "pierre pendue," or
rocking-stone (Breton, _rouler_), the largest in Brittany. These stones
are so nicely poised that they can be moved with the slightest impulse by
any one knowing the exact point at which to touch them. They were used in
early times as proving-stones, and called "Pierres de verité."
“Firm as it seems,
Such is its strange and virtuous property,
It moves obsequious to the gentlest touch
Of him whose breast is pure; but to a traitor,
Though e’en a giant’s prowess nerved his arm,
It stands as fixed as Snowdon.” —MASON.
Or, as Sir Walter Scott alludes to them,—
“Some, chance-poised and balanced, lay
So that a stripling arm might sway
A mass no host could raise,
In nature’s rage at random thrown,
Yet trembling like the Druid’s Stone,
On its precarious base.” —LORD OF THE ISLES.
The council of Nantes, in the seventh century, ordered the bishops to have
the rocking-stones destroyed. The coarse rose-coloured granite of this
coast resembles the Egyptian.
We rowed back to the little inn at Ploumanach, and had some eggs and a hot
langouste or rock-lobster. This kind is more plentiful on the coast of
Brittany than the common, but these rocky shores abound in both sorts. The
village of Ploumanach is built nearly into the sea, in the midst of rocks
overhanging the harbour. It is almost exclusively frequented by fishermen;
in the front is a group of rocks or islands called Les Sept Iles; the Ile
aux Moines, the most important among them, is strongly fortified, and is
directly opposite Ploumanach. At the inn we found a German artist employed
in making sketches in oil of this strange coast. It was late when we
reached Lannion, a town prettily situated in the valley of Leguer; it
contains no remarkable buildings except a few houses of the period of
Henry IV. and Louis XIII. in the market-place. The mackerel and other
fisheries are carried on from here, the grande and petite pêche, the
"lieu" is taken in shoals and salted. The seaweed or wrack (_Fucus
vesiculosus_) called goëmon, is extensively collected along the coasts of
Brittany for fertilising the lands and also for fuel, which last is so
scarce that even cow-dung is collected and dried against the walls for the
same use. The gathering of goëmon takes place in March and September, and
employs the whole population of the district. Souvestre says, that on the
appointed day for gathering the crop, horses, oxen, cows, dogs, every
animal, and every machine, is put into requisition. Women and children all
are assembled in the bays, sometimes to the number of 10,000 persons; but,
to allow the poor to have the full advantage, the custom is, on the first
day, to admit only the necessitous of the parish. These borrow their
neighbours’ vehicles, and collect a good crop. It is called "the day of
the poor." The goëmon grows on rocks at a distance from the shore, and the
peasants not having sufficient boats to collect it tie the heaps together
with cords on to branches of trees and form a raft, on which the whole
family is launched; a barrel is attached at the end, and the unsteady
craft often rolls over and its cargo is precipitated into the water. The
fine sands of the sea shore are also carted and laid on the heavy lands to
divide the soil. Ascending the valley of the Leguer, about eight miles
from Lannion, on the opposite side of the river, we turned down a muddy
lane, and getting out into a field saw in front of us the imposing castle
of Tonquédec, perhaps the finest remains in Brittany of military
architecture, dating from the fourteenth century. It crowns the summit of
a hill, wooded down to the river’s edge, with water-mills and a little
village at the foot, the bright sparkling river running through the deep
wild valley; nothing can exceed the picturesque effect of these ruins when
seen from the opposite bank. Tonquédec has belonged from time immemorial
to the Viscomtes de Coêtmen, who held the first rank among the nobles of
Brittany, but one of them espousing the cause of the Constable Clisson
against Duke John IV. saw his fortress demolished. It was restored under
Henry IV., and again dismantled by order of Cardinal Richelieu, who hated
castles and their nobility. The castle is an irregular four-sided figure.
It had an outer enclosure, and was entered by a drawbridge, and furnished
with every imaginable fortification. Three sides were surrounded by
dwellings, among these a fine roofed salle d’armes remains. A flying
bridge led to the keep, which was of four stories, but the entrance on the
first story, so that in case of siege the garrison might retire to the
keep, and hold out till want of provisions or ammunition compelled them to
surrender. The towers and walls remain, the latter are ten feet thick.
On our way to Plouaret we drove up to the château of Kergrist, a square
edifice with pepper-box towers at each angle, in good preservation,
occupied by a lady of the name of Douglas. Our driver could not find the
way to the "Chapelle des Sept Saints," built over a dolmen, which lay near
the station at Plouaret, whence we proceeded by rail, and, entering the
department of Finistère, shortly after reached Morlaix over its
magnificent granite viaduct, the most important among the many which occur
between Rennes and Brest. The railway runs parallel to the coast, and
traverses, not far from their mouths, the streams which abound in this
"pays accidenté." This gigantic work is one-sixth of a mile (292 yards)
long, and consists of two tiers of arches, fourteen in the upper line and
nine below.
Morlaix is picturesquely built on the sides of three ravines, so steep
that the saying goes, "De la mansarde au jardin, comme on dit à Morlaix."
It is situated on a tidal river, about eight miles from the sea, ascended
by small vessels, which give the place a lively appearance. Few towns have
so many beautiful timbered houses of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries
remaining. One of the most curious is that belonging to a miller, No. 19,
in the Rue des Nobles, a street where the houses are built one story
projecting over the other, so that the top stories of the opposite houses
nearly touch each other and exclude the light. The fronts, gable-shaped,
have their enormous beams richly carved, and supported by brackets and
statues of St. Yves or other favourite saints; some are overlaid with
lozenge-shaped slates, and finished at the point with a leaden "épi," or
ornamental terminal. All have a kind of hall, panelled and sculptured to
the roof, the staircases richly sculptured and supported by a pillar
carved from top to bottom with statues of saints or grotesque figures
superposed one over the other. Among the statuettes in the house, No. 19,
are the figures of St. Roch and his dog; St. Christopher carrying the
infant Jesus, St. Michael, and various others. On another staircase, in
better preservation, but not so richly carved (at the Veuve Perron’s, No.
14, Grande Rue), are female saints,—the Virgin, St. Catherine, and St.
Barbara.
Morlaix gave a grand reception to the Queen-Duchess Anne, when on her
pilgrimage through Brittany in 1505. The town presented her with a little
ship of gold, bearing the arms of the city, and enriched with precious
stones, and a tame ermine with a diamond collar round its neck. Anne
received the ermine, and caressed the little animal, who returned her
endearments, and, at length, suddenly concealed itself in her bosom, which
unexpected proceeding startled the Queen, when the Seigneur du Rohan, who
was by her side, exclaimed, "What do you fear, madam; is not the ermine
your cognisance?" No less enthusiastic was the reception given by the
citizens of Morlaix forty years later (1548) to Mary Stuart, then only
five years old, on her landing in France. She was lodged in the convent of
the Jacobins, and assisted at the Te Deum in the church of Notre
Dame-du-Mur. When passing through one of the gates on her way back, the
drawbridge, overloaded with spectators, gave way, and several persons were
thrown into the water. Mary’s Scottish attendants cried out "Treason!" but
the Seigneur de Rohan, who was on horseback by the side of the royal
litter, indignantly exclaimed, "Jamais Breton ne fit trahison." The
loyalty and good faith of the Bretons is proverbial. "En tout chemin,
loyauté," is a Breton motto,(8) and it is one of the virtues attributed to
them by a Breton writer, who assigns to them four virtues and three vices.
Their virtues consist in a love of their country and their home,
resignation to the will of the Almighty, loyalty to each other, and
hospitality. Their vices are avarice, contempt for women, and drunkenness.
Their love of country and home is carried to an extent, rivalling, if not
exceeding, that of the Swiss. The Breton not only loves the village where
he was born, but he loves the field of his fathers, the hearth and the
clock of his home, even the bed on which he was born, and on which he
hopes to close his eyes. The conscript and sailor are often known to die
of grief when away from their native land. Brittany possesses for its
children an inconceivable attraction, and there is no country in the world
where man is more attached to his native soil.
“O landes! ô forêts! pierres sombres et hautes,
Bois qui couvrez nos champs, mers qui battez nos côtes,
Villages où les morts errent avec les vents,
Bretagne, d’où vient l’amour de tes enfants?” —BRIZEUX.
The Bretons are brave soldiers and good sailors; their disposition is
hasty and violent, and even ferocious in anger. When the people of Nantes
rose up in rebellion against Duke Francis, his brother-in-law, the Comte
du Foix, sent to pacify them, said to him on his return from his mission,
"J’aimerais mieux être prince d’un million de sangliers que de tel peuple
que sont vos Bretons"—Brittany has always been the theatre of great
virtues and great crimes.
On Sunday we went to the Welsh Baptist Chapel, to hear Mr. Jenkins preach
in the Breton language. He has been there thirty years zealously labouring
among the peasants, to convert whom he was sent by the Welsh Baptist
Missionary Society. From his thorough knowledge of the French and Breton
languages, he is eminently fitted for the task. He travels about the
surrounding country preaching, and establishing schools, and has revised
the Breton(9) translation of the New Testament for the Society, and
circulated, by means of colporteurs, from eight to nine thousand Bibles,
besides above 100,000 tracts. The task of acquiring the Breton language is
less difficult for a Welshman, for the similarity between them is so great
that the two people are able to make themselves understood to each other.
The labours of Mr. Jenkins have lately awakened the attention of the
Breton Roman Catholic clergy, who have publicly denounced him from their
altars, but without causing him to slacken in the good work he has
undertaken. Persecuted by a tyrannical priesthood, who hold dominion over
a peasantry bigoted in proportion to their ignorance, his position is one
of difficulty and danger; but he goes on with undrooping energy, convinced
that, though the progress is slow, the good seed has not been sown in
vain, and will, in due time, bear fruit, though those who first sowed it
may have passed away. There were about a dozen Bretons at the evening
service; they seemed to be constantly going in and out, as if unable to
keep up their attention to so long a service. There are also English
Protestant chapels at Morlaix and Quimper, and French at Brest and
Lorient.
We saw a christening in the cathedral, of a child about eighteen months
old; the mother wore a wonderful conical cap of lace.
A few houses from our hotel a ball was going on, given every week for the
workpeople of the town. The clatter of their iron-pointed wooden shoes
seemed quite to drown the music.
Next day we walked to the Fontaine des Anglais, so-called from the
slaughter of a body of English at that place. Jealous of the prosperity of
Morlaix, Henry VIII. sent a fleet up the river to attack the place, and
the commander, being informed by a spy of the absence of the chief nobles
at Guingamp, and of the townsmen at the fair of Pontivy, landed with a
force which entered Morlaix, burnt it, and returned laden with booty to
their boats. Six or seven hundred men, who were intoxicated, fell asleep
in the wood, where they were attacked by the nobles, who had hastened from
Guingamp to the assistance of the town, and were all massacred. The
neighbouring fountain, said to have been tinged with the invaders’ blood,
received in memory of the event the name of "Fontaine des Anglais." It was
on this occasion the town of Morlaix added to its arms, a lion (emblem of
vigilance), encountering a two-headed leopard (for England), with the
punning motto, "S’ils te mordent, mors-les" (Morlaix).
Emile Souvestre, author of ’Le Foyer Breton,’ and ’Les Derniers Bretons,’
the ablest portrayer of Breton manners, customs, and superstitions, was a
native of Morlaix; he died in the Protestant Communion, 1854.
We were recommended to sail down the Morlaix River to its mouth, as the
scenery is very picturesque, but we had not time to effect it. The great
beauty of Brittany generally consists in its river scenery, the Rance, to
Dinan; the rivers of Quimper and Quimperlé; the Aven, Elorn, and Blavet,
are all highly picturesque and worth visiting. Our next drive was to St.
Pol de Léon, partly along the bank of the river, passing under the church
of Notre Dame-de-la-Salzette and the convent below of St. François. The
tall steeples of St. Pol are seen at a great distance, and looking behind
is the best view of the Mené-Bré, an insulated conical mountain, one of
the Mené-Arré chain, situated near the station of Belle-Isle-Bégard. A
chain of mountains runs through the Côtes-du-Nord, and, at the western end
of the department, forks off into two branches which traverse the whole of
Finistère,—the Mené-Arré, or northern chain, and the Montagnes Noires, or
southern.
St. Pol looks like a town of the Middle Ages. "The holy city," as it is
called by the Léonnais, one of the four bishoprics(10) into which Brittany
was divided, comprising the modern districts of Morlaix and Brest. The
Pays de Léon is remarkable for the number of its religious monuments, its
fine churches, its bone-houses, calvaries, way-side crosses, and shrines.
Crosses are set up in every direction, and of every description, from the
plain unpretending simple cross of wood or stone, to the huge crosses
flaunting in green paint, with tears of gold—specimens of the taste of the
maire or priest of the district. No Breton passes the sacred symbol
without kneeling to salute it, and making the sign of the cross—evidence
that the piety of those who first raised them has not degenerated in their
posterity. The country is rich and varied. The Léonnais is tallest of all
the Breton race; his dress is generally black or blue, with a coloured
scarf round his waist, his hair is worn very long, and his broad-brimmed
hat has a silver buckle. He is grave, of a calm confiding faith, which
nothing can shake or alter, and of intense religious feeling. The church
is the place of meeting, where all his business is transacted, all his
aspirations centered. Throughout Brittany the priesthood are low and
ignorant. Like the Irish, the Breton farmer’s great ambition is to make
his son a priest. In no part of France are they more uneducated than in
Brittany.
St. Pol is still and melancholy, the grass grows in the streets, the city
looks as if it had not awakened since its palmy days of the fourteenth
century. Its churches, calvaries, cemeteries, all silent as death—
“A deep, still pool in the ocean of life.”
Its lively neighbour, Morlaix, offers a strange contrast: its inhabitants
may well say they are three hundred years in advance of St. Pol.
The pride of St. Pol de Léon is the church of Notre Dame-de-Creizker. Its
steeple, nearly 400 feet high, was said by Vauban to be the boldest piece
of architecture he ever beheld. It is built in the centre of the church,
entirely of granite, cut in the shape of tiles and open work, to within
eighty feet from the base. According to the legend, on the spot where the
church now stands, there lived in the time of St. Génévroc, a young girl,
whom the saint found, when passing her house on the fête of our Lady,
employed at her needle. He reproached her gently with her impiety, yet she
went on sewing, saying "she required food on Sundays as well as on work
days." But the girl has hardly finished speaking, when all her body became
cold and motionless as a stone. She was completely paralysed. Asking
pardon of St. Génévroc, he made the sign of the cross upon each of her
limbs, and the power of motion returned. Grateful for her recovery, she
gave to the saint, her house, which was situated in the middle of the town
(as its name implies), as a site for his church. It is said to have been
built by an English architect, invited to Brittany by Mary Plantagenet,
daughter of Edward III., and first wife of Duke John IV.(11)
The axis of the nave is inclined to the left, a mystic allusion to the
position of the head of the expiring Saviour on the cross. _Et inclinato
capite, emise spiritum_, "And He bowed his head, and gave up the ghost."
The north porch of the Creizker is beautifully sculptured with leaves of
the mallow, the vine, and mulberry. It was all under repair when we saw
it.
[Illustration: 22. The Creizker.]
The cathedral has two fine towers with spires, and a magnificent rose
window of the fifteenth century in the south transept, with, above, the
"fenêtre d’excommunication." The fine porch, lightly and delicately
sculptured, is surmounted by a balustrade, whence the episcopal
benediction was given. Over the high altar is a large wooden crosier,
gilt, from which to suspend the ciborium, similar to that we saw in the
cathedral of Dol. A black marble slab, at the foot of the steps of the
high altar, marks the grave of St. Pol de Léon, who died 570. St. Pol, the
patron bishop and founder of the cathedral, was one of the clergy of Great
Britain who emigrated to Brittany in the sixth century; he landed in the
island of Ouëssant, and passed on to the country of Léon, where he founded
a monastery. The island of Batz was, at that time, infested by an enormous
dragon, sixty feet long; the saint, accompanied by a warrior, entered the
cavern of the monster, tied his stole round its neck, and gave him to his
companion to lead, St. Pol following, beating him with his stick, till
they arrived at the extremity of the island, when he took off the stole,
and commanded the dragon to throw itself in the sea, an order the animal
immediately obeyed. St. Pol is always represented with the dragon by his
side, the stole round its neck. We were shown a little bell, said to have
belonged to the saint. It appears he had repeatedly asked the king to give
him this bell for his new church, but had always been refused. When one
day some fishermen brought him a large fish taken off the island of Batz,
and in its mouth was the coveted bell. It is certainly very ancient in
form, a kind of square pyramid about four inches wide and nine high, of
beaten red copper mixed, we were told, with a considerable quantity of
silver. It is now rung over the heads of the faithful on pardons, as a
specific against headache and earache—a singular remedy! The cathedral has
a fine marble tomb of Bishop Visdelou, preacher to Queen Anne of Austria;
he is represented in a half reclining posture, in his pontifical garments.
In every part of the cathedral are the little boxes of skulls.
Adjacent is the Ursuline convent, where is preserved a small figure of the
Virgin in jet; brought from a church in the Iles Sainte Marguerite, taken
from the Spaniards in the seventeenth century. It is supposed to possess
miraculous powers, and is sent round to the sick as a specific.
We breakfasted at the little inn (Hôtel de France), commanding a pretty
view of the coast from its windows and garden. The Léon country was
governed by Viscounts, who boasted, among several manorial rights, the
"droit de motte," which empowered them, if a vassal (they were "serfs de
motte") attempted to live out of his demesne, or to enter the service of
another lord, to bring him back to his "motte," a cord round his neck, and
inflict upon him corporal punishment. By virtue of the same right, if the
demesne of a lord was so placed that it had no natural height from which
to survey its extent, his vassals were made to bring sufficient cart-loads
of earth to raise a mound or "motte" of the requisite elevation. The other
privilege was the droit de "bris," equivalent to our flotsum and jetsum,
so lucrative that a Léon Viscount is recorded to have said, when a noble
was exhibiting his casket of gems, that he possessed a jewel more precious
than all they were admiring—alluding to a rock famous for its shipwrecks.
Duke John the Red, taking advantage of the misdeeds of one of these lords
of Léon, seized his rich possessions and united them (1276) to the crown.
The viscounty of Léon fell by alliance, in the fourteenth century, to the
house of Rohan, in whose favour is was raised in the sixteenth to a
principality.
We continued our drive to Roscoff, three miles distant, a little sea-port
town, formerly one of the three great dens of corsairs and smugglers, all
under the protection of St. Barbe,—the other two being Camaret and Le
Conquet. Roscoff was the emporium of considerable contraband trade with
England. Tea, wine, and brandy were brought over in small casks, which the
smugglers tied together and threw into the sea, when near the coast, and
landed at night. The whole country round is now one extent of
kitchen-garden, the light sandy soil, dressed with the goëmon, produces an
incredible quantity of vegetables, onions, cabbages, parsnips, asparagus,
artichokes, cauliflowers, &c. Of onions, 2,000,000 lbs. are said to be
sent every year to England alone. The people here wear black caps, those
of the men are stocking-knit. The gardeners of Roscoff will carry their
produce above a hundred miles for sale. The chief vegetable consumed by
the Bretons themselves is the cabbage, of which the quantity raised is
enormous. The kind grown is mostly the Jersey or cow-cabbage, which grows
with stalks from five to six feet high, and has large leaves at every
joint. They use them for their cattle, as well as for their own eating.
Avenues of cabbages, stacked five or six feet high, are to be seen in most
Breton markets. Bread or porridge of buckwheat (blé noir) with
cabbage-soup is the customary diet of the country. The recipe is simple,
consisting of a cabbage-leaf, over which a little hot water is thrown, and
a "soupçon" of butter added to give it a flavour. These ingredients
compose the national soup which always appears at the tâble d’hôte, with
the inevitable "ragoût," _i. e._ harricoed mutton. The little town of
Roscoff has some historic importance. It was here that John de Montfort
sailed to England to do homage to King Edward III. for the duchy of
Brittany, and returned by the same port. Here also the child-princess Mary
Stuart landed in 1548 to marry the young Dauphin, afterwards Francis II.
In commemoration of the event, she afterwards caused the little chapel of
St. Ninian to be built close on the water’s edge. It is not more than
fifty feet long, and has an eastern flamboyant window, with others in the
side walls. The arches are fast going to decay, the stone altar is also
sculptured. When we saw it, the interior was filled with bundles of
broom-branches and poultry. It is strange this little chapel, built by the
Queen of two Kingdoms, should be suffered to fall to ruin for the lack of
a trifling outlay.
Here, two hundred years later, Prince Charles Stuart landed after
Culloden, in the French frigate the ’Heureux,’ sent by the French
Government to facilitate his escape, having eluded, through the chances of
a fog, the pursuit of the English cruisers; and here he knelt, in the
chapel of his ancestress, to return thanks for his deliverance.
The church of Roscoff has a curious pierced steeple, like many of those in
Finistère, and some alabaster bas-reliefs of the fourteenth century, with
numerous boxes of skulls. A ship rudely sculptured by the porch, and
another by the east window, show that the fishermen and ship-owners
contributed to the building of the church. By the shore is a rock of
grotesque form, and opposite, about three miles from Roscoff, is the
pretty island of Batz, which derives its name—Breton "batz," a stick—from
the rod used by St. Pol de Léon to work his miracle.
People were busily employed in boats collecting the goëmon, which they
pile in heaps along the shore. The great curiosity of Roscoff is its
enormous fig-tree, in the garden of the Capucine convent, said to be two
centuries old. It is supported by stone pillars, and is, we were informed,
above 300 feet in circumference.
We returned that evening to Morlaix: the viaduct by moonlight had a most
picturesque appearance. Next morning we proceeded by rail to the station
of St. Thégonnec, where nothing in the shape of a vehicle was to be had to
convey us to the town—nearly a mile and a half distant—but the ricketty
two-wheeled mail cart. At the little cabaret, which bears the important
name of Hôtel de la Grande Maison, we procured breakfast. The church has
been restored. It is rich in carvings, spoiled by gilding, the altars and
canopied pulpit especially. Opposite to the last are two coloured
"retables." The high altar, with two side altars and two smaller ones
behind, are gorgeously carved, coloured and gilt, and extend to the roof.
The painted-glass windows are the gifts of various persons. At the
entrance of the churchyard is a Renaissance porch, or triumphal arch,
dated 1581, with a sculpture representing St. Thégonnec, a bullock and car
by his side. Adjoining, is the ossuary, or reliquary, bearing the date
1676, also in the same elaborate style, destitute of bones, but having
below a crypt containing a group of life-sized figures representing the
Entombment, with this inscription:—
“Tu le vois mort, pécheur, ce Dieu qui t’a fait naître:
Sa mort est ton ouvrage, et devient ton appui.
A ce trait de bonté, tu dois au moins vivre pour lui.”
In the churchyard is also a calvary; the name given to those monumental
sculptures peculiar to Brittany, consisting of the crucifix, surrounded by
the chief witnesses of the crucifixion, together with minor groups
representing passages in the life of our Saviour. This calvary, executed
in Kersanton stone, is dated 1610; the numerous figures are all in the
grotesque costume of the period, with ruffs, toquets, trained gowns, and
scalloped jackets.
[Illustration: 23. Calvary, Guimiliau.]
We took a carriage for Guimiliau, passing on our road to the left, a
grotto. The church of Guimiliau partly dates from the Renaissance; it has
a finely sculptured porch, and contains within carvings of great beauty;
the pulpit, supported on a column, is dated 1677; the organ-loft is
enriched with splendid bas-reliefs in oak panels,—one represents a
triumphal march, after Le Brun, the others, King David and St. Cecilia.
But the grand monumental carving is the magnificent baptistery or
baptismal font, surmounted by a baldachin or canopy, supported by eight
twisted columns interlaced with vines, grapes and flowers, with graceful
little birds pecking the fruit. On the top of the canopy is a dolphin, and
above, two figures of Fame, trumpet-mouthed, surmounted by a royal crown
and the letters S. V. This baptistery and the organ-loft are both in the
style of Louis XIV., and are said to have cost 30,000 francs. In the
churchyard are a triumphal arch and a reliquary, both inferior to those of
St. Thégonnec, but the calvary of Guimiliau is one of the most extensive
in Brittany. It is of the sixteenth century. It consists of a solid
platform, ascended by a staircase, and raised upon arches; upon it,
sculptured in Kersanton stone, are the three crosses, the centre one
beautifully carved with St. John and the Virgin Mary by the side. The four
Evangelists are placed at each corner, and all the passages in the life of
Christ are represented by groups of little figures in the costume of the
sixteenth century. This singular monument bears two different dates, those
of 1581 and 1588.
Guimiliau is close to the railway, but there is no station there. We
returned to St. Thégonnec. The peasants along the road were threshing
their buckwheat on the open ground; women as well as men were at work.
They threshed in a circle, keeping good time with their strokes, and
laughing merrily while they flourished their flails,—they appeared a most
joyous party,—
“Ho! batteux, battons la gerbe,
Compagnons, joyeusement.”
Buckwheat, their "blé noir," is the Breton’s chief food, and is cultivated
to a large extent. With its coral-red stalks and snowy flowers it has a
very pretty appearance growing, and is the first care of the Breton
farmer—
“Ah! que la sombre nue aux funestes lueurs,
Planant sur la campagne,
Epargne les blés-noirs, les blés aux blanches fleurs,
Ce pain de la Bretagne."” —STÉPHANE HALGAN.
This plant, a native of Asia Minor, was evidently, from its French name,
"sarrazin," introduced into Europe by the Saracens or Moors. We proceeded
by rail to Brest, passing under the foot of the abrupt rock upon which
stand the picturesque ruins of the ancient castle of La Roche Maurice and
the church of La Roche. The rail runs along the banks of the Elorn through
a narrow wooded valley; the windings of the river are very picturesque,
and formerly a steamer ran from Landerneau to Brest, affording the
opportunity of seeing them.
Brest, the first harbour in France, is Breton only in name and locality;
it is built in an amphitheatre on the slopes of two hills divided by the
river Penfeld, which forms the port. On the right is the suburb
Recouvrance, on the left Brest proper. This irregular site often causes
the second floor of the houses in one street to be on a line with the
ground floor of another. Brest is clean and well built, and consists of
three long parallel streets. The principal one, called the Rue de Siam, in
commemoration of the Siamese Ambassadors sent to Louis XIV., who landed
here, runs the whole length of the town, ending at the fine iron bridge
called the Pont Impériale, the largest swing-bridge ever constructed. You
descend by a flight of steps from the Rue de Siam to the lower streets.
Running along the bay, of considerable extent, and well planted with
trees, is the magnificent promenade called the Cours d’Ajot, from the name
of the officer of the Engineers by whom it was laid out and planted a
century back. Well sheltered by its trees and refreshed by the sea
breezes, it commands a fine view over the new "port de commerce," and the
whole extent of the harbour of Brest, which is capable of containing 500
ships of the line, and is, with the exception of those of Rio Janeiro and
Constantinople, the largest and most beautiful in the world.
Brest harbour has only one entrance, which is to the west, through a
narrow channel called Le Goulet, less than a mile in width, and cut into
two by the Mingant rock. In the year 1796 the ’Republican’ was lost here.
Sailing out of the harbour, with a contrary wind and snow, the pilot
thought he had passed the Mingant rock, when the ship struck, and went
down with 800 men on board. Brest Castle in the Middle Ages was a place of
such strength and importance that John IV., who had four times besieged it
fruitlessly, when it was under the English dominion, was wont to say "Ce
n’est duc de Bretagne, qui n’est pas sire de Brest." It had been held by
Sir Robert Knolles against the army of the King of France under Du
Guesclin, who was obliged to raise the siege. The donjon was built by King
Richard II. during the War of Succession. The making Brest an important
naval station was the thought of Richelieu, and the work of Louis XIV.,
who built the arsenal.
Next day we made an excursion to see the church of Notre Dame-du-Folgoët
or the Fool of the Wood, celebrated in legendary lore: the tale is so old
and often told, we have some scruples in repeating it.
Towards the middle of the fourteenth century, there lived in the woods of
Lesneven, a poor idiot boy, called Salaun (Solomon), better known under
the name of the Fool of the Wood (Folgoët). He was miserably clad, had no
bed but the ground; no pillow, but a stone; no roof, but the tree which
gave him shelter. He went every day to Lesneven to seek his daily bread,
but he never begged; he uttered the simple words "Ave Maria! Solomon could
eat bread," and returned with whatever pittance was given him to his tree
near the fountain, into which he dipped his crusts, and plunged even in
the depth of winter, for his bath, always repeating the words, "Hail,
Maria!" One day a party of marauding soldiers accosted him. In answer to
their questions, he replied, "I am neither for Blois nor Montfort, I am
the servant of the Lady Mary." This simple life he led for nearly forty
years, when at last he fell ill and died, repeating his favourite words
"Ave Maria." He was found dead near the fountain, and was buried by his
neighbours. After a time, when the memory of the poor idiot boy had nearly
passed away, there suddenly sprung up from his grave a white lily with the
words "Ave Maria" inscribed in letters of gold upon its petals. The news
of the miracle spread throughout all Brittany, Duke John sent
commissioners; the grave was opened, and it was found the lily proceeded
from the mouth of Salaun,—"ceste royale fleur sortait par sa bouche du
creux de son estomach"—a testimony of the innocence and piety "du plus
beau mignon de la reine des Cieux." Duke John vowed to erect a church to
our Lady over the fountain of the poor mendicant, whose faith had been
thus recognised;(12) and, faithful to his promise, the first stone was
laid by him in 1366, as a thank-offering for his success the previous year
at the battle of Auray, which had fixed the crown upon his head. His wife,
Joan of Navarre, not only made a pilgrimage to the Folgoët in 1396, but
also contributed to the building of the church. It was completed by John
V., about 1419. The Queen-Duchess Anne of Brittany went there in
pilgrimage after the recovery from illness of Louis XIII. Anne of Austria
founded six masses at the Folgoët, in gratitude for the birth of Louis
XIV., and several popes granted indulgences to those who made pilgrimages
to this shrine. This church is one of the finest in Brittany. Its colour
is sombre; it is the oldest monument in Brittany in which the Kersanton
stone is employed. This stone is a volcanic rock called hornblende, of
very fine grain, with minute specks of mica. There is a large quarry near
St. Pol de Léon; but it is found principally on the west of the harbour of
Brest, near a village from which it takes its name. Kersanton stone is of
a dark-green colour, approaching to bronze, gives out a metallic sound
when struck, and is easily worked in the quarry, in blocks of from twenty
to forty feet cube, but hardens on exposure to the air. Time has no
destructive effect on it; the most delicate, lightest, and most ornamental
sculptures executed in it remain uninjured, while the hardest granites,
erected at the same time, are friable and decomposed. The Kersanton stone
cuts glass like a diamond.
The architecture of the Folgoët is distinguished for the elegance and
richness of its ornamentation: the softness of the Kersanton stone, when
fresh taken from the quarry fits it specially for the deeply cut,
lace-like works of the artists of the flamboyant school, and the church is
remarkable for the skill with which the productions of the vegetable
kingdom are represented both within and without. It has no transepts, but
to the south is a projection formed by the treasure chamber. The modern
pulpit has a series of medallion bas-reliefs representing the legend of
Solomon.
The jubé, or roodloft, is a perfect lacework of stone. Above three arches,
decorated with vine-leaves, is an open-worked gallery of pierced
quatre-foils surpassing in exuberance of ornament any other known.
To the east are five altars, all of Kersanton stone, most delicately
sculptured—the under-cutting of the foliage most wonderful. They are in
the shape of tombs or sarcophagi, the form generally adopted for altars in
the sixteenth century. Round the "autel des anges," richest of them all,
is a row of eighteen niches, filled in with the figures of angels, holding
alternately phylacteries and escutcheons; round the top is a cornice of
thistle-leaves—on the cut stalk of one hangs a dew-drop perfect to nature.
The high altar is decorated with vine-leaves, birds pecking the grapes,
and the ermine, with its motto "À ma vie," introduced. The altar of the
rosary has also a cornice of vine-leaves modelled evidently after the high
altar.
[Illustration: 24. The Fool’s Well, Folgoët.]
The fine flamboyant rose window at the east of the church resembles that
of St. Pol de Léon, and below it is the fountain of Salaun. The spring is
concealed under the high altar, and flows into a basin without, preserved
by a kind of Gothic porch sculptured with thistle-leaves and crockets, and
within it, on a bracket, is a delicately chiseled image of the Virgin.
Some children round the fountain offered us pins, the use of which we did
not understand. We afterwards learned that it is the custom in Brittany
for girls to take a pin from their bodice, and throw it into a sacred
well, to ascertain, by its manner of sinking, when they would be married.
If the pin falls head foremost, then there is no present hope of
matrimony, but if the point goes first, it is a sure sign of being married
that year.
On the new year, in some parts of Brittany, pieces of bread-and-butter are
thrown into the fountains, and from the way in which they swim the future
is foretold. If the buttered side turns under, it forebodes death; if two
pieces adhere together, it is a sign of sickness; and if the piece floats,
it is an assurance of long life and happiness.
The veneration for springs and healing wells is of very ancient date, and
was prohibited by early councils of the Church; but the worship of that
element from which suffering humanity seeks for relief in all its ailments
has passed through succeeding creeds, and that which was held sacred a
thousand years back is still the object of reverence and affection.
Nor is the sculpture outside the church less remarkable than the interior.
The west door, now fallen to decay, has an arch with double entrance
separated by a column containing a bénitier. A wreath of curled leaves
runs round the arch, and on a bracket of thistle-leaves formerly stood a
statue of John V.
The north side has little ornament. The great richness is in the south,
where is the fine porch of Bishop Alain de la Rue, who consecrated the
building, and more splendid still, is, at the angle formed by the
projecting sacristy facing the west, the Porch of the Apostles. The twelve
Apostles are ranged on each side, under rich canopies; the whole porch one
mass of floral decoration, vine-leaves and mallows, interspersed with
dragons, birds, and insects. On the right of the porch is a crouching
figure with a label inscribed: "Bn soiez venz,"—"Bien soiez venuz" or
"Soyez les bien venus"—an invitation to the faithful to enter into the
church. On the lintel of the two doors are ermines passant, and the motto
of the Dukes of Brittany, "À ma vie," and towards the south are the
remains of a whole cornice of ermines, running through the rings of a long
scroll inscribed with "À ma vie." This motto was first taken by Duke John
IV. (who instituted the order of the Ermine) to imply that he had
conquered Brittany, and would maintain it, even at the cost of his life,
"à ma vie."(13)
The collar consisted of a double chain, in each of which were four
ermines, and two more hung suspended from two chains, surmounted by
coronets. The motto "À ma vie" was placed round each of these ten ermines.
The Père Lobineau quotes a history of Duke John, in which the order is
thus spoken of:—
“Lors fit mander tous les Prélats,
Abbés et Clercs de tous Estats,
Barons, Chevaliers, Escuyers,
Qui tous portoient nouveaux Colliers
De moult bel port et belle guise;
Et étoit nouvelle Dévise
De deux Rolets brunis et beaux,
Couplés ensemble de deux fermeaux;
Et au dessus étoit l’Ermine
En figure et en couleur fine,
En deux Cedules avoit escript
_À ma vie_, comme j’ai dit;
L’un mot est blanc, l’autre noir,
Il est certain, tien, pour le voir.”
In the churchyard is a cross erected by Cardinal de Coëtivy (died 1474),
who is represented kneeling at the foot; it is said to be the work of
Michel Colomb, sculptor of the celebrated monument raised by Queen Anne of
Brittany to her parents, now in the Cathedral at Nantes. Next day, we went
to Le Conquet, returning by St. Mathieu. We crossed the swing-bridge to
the suburb Recouvrance, so called from the chapel of our Lady, to whom
shipwrecked mariners addressed their petitions to recover (recouvrir)
their property. On our left we saw the islet rock of Bertheaume, about 200
feet high, distant from the coast 150. Until lately, the communication
with the mainland was by means of a kind of cradle drawn on two cables,
about nine mètres in circumference.
Le Conquet(14) is a little seaport built on the slope of a steep hill.
Formerly it was of some importance, and a great resort of pirates. Sir
Walter Manny took the town for the Countess of Montfort, during the war of
the two Jeannes, and it was attacked by the fleets of Henry VIII. and his
daughter Mary. Opposite is a beautiful beach, called the Blancs Sablons,
accessible at low water by walking across the harbour. Here is the point
of communication with the island of Ouëssant, about seventeen miles
distant, by means of a steamer, weather permitting, as the Chenal du Four,
which separates this group of islands from the continent, is covered with
rocks and is very dangerous in rough weather. Its men are all seamen or
fishermen, the women perform the agricultural labour. They bring in their
produce to Brest at the monthly fairs, and are not so cut off from the
world as Gresset describes them:—
“Sous un ciel toujours rigoureux
Au sein des flots impétueux,
Non loin de l’Armorique plage
Habitacle marécageux,
Moitié peuplé, moitié sauvage,
Dont les habitants malheureux
Separés du reste du monde,
Semblent ne connoître l’onde
Et n’être connus que des cieux.”
GRESSET.—_Carême impromptu._
[Illustration: 25. Abbey of St. Mathieu.]
We now reached the Abbey of St. Mathieu, situated on the extreme point of
Brittany and of France, on the top of a promontory, well called Finistère.
Here in the sixth century was built a monastery in honour of St. Matthew
the Evangelist, whose head had been stolen in Egypt by some Breton
navigators, and been brought to land at this point, which long bore the
name of "St. Mathieu de fin de terre" (Finistère). In the twelfth century
the monastery was converted into a Benedictine abbey, which is a beautiful
example of the Early English style. The formidable rocks at its feet are
called Les Moines. The monks of St. Mathieu kept a beacon for the safety
of mariners on these dangerous shores. The modern lighthouse quite masks
the sight of the abbey, and is a great disfigurement to the view, which,
in other respects, is most grand; the imposing granite ruins of the abbey
church on the very edge of these weather-beaten cliffs, worn and torn by
the ocean with its unwearied waves; on the right, the reefs of the Passage
du Four, which appear to unite the islands of Ouëssant and its satellites
to St. Mathieu; on the left the elongated point of the Bec du Raz, which
no one, according to the Bretons, ever passed without grief and suffering.
In sight of Saint Mathieu, the English in 1504, with eighty ships,
attacked Hervé de Porzmoguer, a Breton captain, with only twenty. His own
ship the ’Cordelière,’ which had been built and fitted out by Anne of
Bretagne, at her own expense, took fire; it held 1200 troops besides the
ship’s company. Porzmoguer grappled the ’Cordelière’ to the ship of the
English admiral, the ’Great Harry;’ and both vessels, driven by the
north-west wind to the entrance of the Goulet, were burned together, and
above 2000 men perished in the two ships. Porzmoguer mounted the mast
followed by the raging flames, and cast himself from the main-top, in full
armour, into the sea.
In 1597, the fleet sent by Philip II. to take possession of Brittany for
Spain was dispersed in a storm off Point St. Mathieu, and, out of a
hundred and twenty ships, scarcely one remained.
On our way home, we passed a little town called La Trinité, from three
springs all issuing from the same fountain, at which washerwomen with
their wooden bats were hard at work, beating the clothes to rags on the
stones.
[Illustration: 26. Peasant Girl of Ouëssant.]
Next day was the monthly fair at Brest, which brought in many of the
country people in their picturesque costumes. Most conspicuous among them
were the peasants of Ouëssant, last type of the Celtic women, in their
singularly Italian-looking head-dress, their hair streaming over their
shoulders; and the Plougastel men, in red caps, with coats and trowsers of
white flannel.
Most of the market-women were furnished with enormous umbrellas, red,
blue, and green. In this rainy province, they are indispensable, and the
acquisition of an umbrella is a great object of ambition to the Breton
peasant.
We left Brest by the steamer for Pont Launay and Châteaulin, a four hours’
sail in the harbour of Brest. On the right we passed the Point des
Espagnols, where Frobisher, sent by Queen Elizabeth to the assistance of
Henry IV., received his death wound. Leaving on our left Plougastel, where
we were unable to visit the celebrated calvary, we passed near the "Anse
du Fret," whence Joan of Navarre, then widow of Duke John IV., sailed to
England to marry Henry of Lancaster, 1403. Henry, when Earl of Derby, had
visited Nantes to ask the assistance of his uncle in returning to England,
and Joan had favoured his expedition, but Duke John died the same year
(1399). When Queen Dowager of England, she saw the children of her two
husbands arrayed against each other, and her son Arthur, who had been
invested by King Henry IV. with the Earldom of Richmond, made prisoner at
Agincourt by his half-brother King Henry V., who confined him in the
Tower, and afterwards in Fotheringay Castle. Joan received hard treatment
from her stepson. Accused of being a sorceress—a reputation she inherited
from her father, Charles the Bad of Navarre—Henry caused her to be
confined in Leeds and Pevensey castles, and deprived her of her property.
It was only on his approaching death that he restored her to liberty. She
retired to Havering Bower in Essex, where her grandson, the unfortunate
Gilles de Bretagne, was reared and educated with Henry VI. She died in
1437, and the memory of "Joan the witch queen" was long held in awe by the
people of Havering Bower.
[Illustration: 27. Peasant Girl, Châteaulin.]
On the left is the hamlet of Kersanton, which gives its name to the stone
so called. At the entrance of the Aulne,(15) to the right, we passed the
ruins of the abbey of Landévenec, the most ancient monastic establishment
in Brittany. At Pont Launay an omnibus took us to the railway station at
Châteaulin, celebrated for its slate quarries, a drive of three quarters
of an hour. From here we proceeded by rail to Quimper, capital of
Cornouaille. The district of Cornouaille—Cornu-Galliæ, expressing its
position at the horn or extremity of France—is most varied in character.
The part on the north is enclosed between the two chains of mountains,
which, running nearly parallel with each other, traverse the department of
Finistère, the Mené-Arré, and the Montagnes Noires. A single chain passes
through the Côtes-du-Nord, and forks off, at the edge of the department,
near Callac, whence the northern range, the Mené-Arré, runs westwards to
Faou harbour; while the Montagnes Noires incline to the south-west, and
reach the sea near Crozon. The country between these chains is dreary and
bare—barren plains and black mountains; to the south it is cultivated and
productive. The stormy rock-bound coast is wild and desolate. One-third of
the department consists of landes, marshes, and sandy shores (_grèves_).
The people are the Irish of Brittany. Their wants are restricted to a tub
of salted pork and a provision of cider, with rye, or black corn, to make
their "galette." They are simple in their manners, kind to the poor, and
enduring of suffering. Respect for the misfortunes of others, and patience
under their own, is one of the Breton characteristics.
In the days of Conan Meriadec there lived a holy man, called Corentin, who
retired to a solitude for prayer and meditation, near a fountain in a
forest. Every morning a little fish came to him from the fountain; he cut
a piece off it for his daily pittance and threw it again into the water,
and in an instant the fish became whole. The miracle was repeated every
morning. One day King Gradlon, who held his court at "Kemper," was in the
forest near the hermitage of St. Corentin, with some of his suite, and
asked him if he could give him something to eat. The saint immediately ran
to his fountain and called his little fish, cut off a piece, which he gave
to the maître d’hôtel to prepare for the king and his attendants. The chef
laughed when he took the slice; but, to the surprise of everybody, the
fish multiplied so as to completely satisfy the hunger of the king and his
party. Gradlon threw himself on his knees at the feet of St. Corentin, and
gave him the forest, with a "maison de plaisance," which St. Corentin
converted into a monastery. The king afterwards erected Quimper into a
bishopric, to which he nominated St. Corentin:—
“Voici dans le fond la ville de Kemper,
Asise au confluent de l’Oded et du Ster.
Comme sa cathédrale, aux deux tours dentelées,
S’élève noblement du milieu des vallées,
O perle de l’Oded, fille du roi Grallon,
Qui de saint Corentin portes aussi le nom,
Rejouis-toi, Kemper, dans tes vielles murailles!
Vois avec quelle ardeur, ô reine de Cornouailles,
Tes fils de tous les points de l’antique évêché,
Pêcheurs et montagnards, viennent à ton marché!
Cornouillais! en passant près de sa basilique,
Du bon saint Corentin adorez la relique.
Que tous ceux d’Elliant et des mêmes chemins
Boivent à sa fontaine et s’y lavent les mains;
Non pas les Léonards, eux de qui les ancêtres,
Voici quelque mille ans, hommes jaloux et traîtres,
Volèrent le poisson dont notre Corentin
Coupait pour se nourrir un pen chaque matin,
Et qui chaque matin, ô pieuse merveille!
Nageait dans sa fontaine aussi frais que la veille:
Eh bien! les Léonards volèrent ce poisson,
Mais Kemper n’oublie jamais leur trahison;
Sans jouir de leur crime, ils en portent la peine,
Et toujours le poisson nage dans la fontaine.”
_Les Bretons_—BRIZEUX.
Quimper, or Quimper-Corentin, is prettily situated at the junction of the
rivers Odet and Stheire; its Breton name, Kemper, signifying confluence.
It was long called Kemper-Odet. On the opposite side of the river the
hills, consisting of a mass of rocks, covered with trees, rise to some
height, and are ascended by well-kept walks. The river runs straight
through the town, like a canal, edged by stone quays and crossed by iron
bridges, with avenues of trees on each side. Trout can be seen in the
sparkling stream; and we watched a boy with a hook at the end of a reel of
black silk, hanging over the bridge, with a piece of kneaded bread for
bait. With this simple tackle he contrived to hook a trout of tolerable
size, and let it run out the length of his silk line till he had tired it
out and landed it. The scenery of the river below Quimper, flowing through
a bed of granite blocks, is, we were told, lovely, but we had no time to
visit it further down. The view from the top of the wood-covered heights
on the opposite side is very extensive, looking down upon the town, with
its cathedral towers rising above, the promenade, and the course of the
river. At the end of the town there is a manufactory of coarse pottery;
but formerly it produced ware of a finer quality.
The beautiful cathedral is the largest of the four episcopal churches of
Lower Brittany (Vannes, St. Pol, Quimper, and Tréguier), and was
principally built in the fifteenth century. On the platform over the
finely sculptured porch, rich in foliage like the Folgoët, placed between
the two towers, is the equestrian statue of King Gradlon, to whom is
attributed the introduction of the vine into Brittany. The statue was
decapitated in 1793, but restored ten years back. On St. Cecilia’s day
companies of musicians used to mount on the platform. While they sang a
hymn in praise of King Gradlon, one of the choristers, provided with a
flagon of wine, a napkin, and golden hanap, mounted on the crupper of King
Gradlon’s horse, poured out a cup of wine, which he offered ceremoniously
to the lips of the statue and then drank himself, carefully wiped with his
napkin the moustachios of the king, placed a branch of laurel in his hand,
and then threw down the hanap in the midst of the crowd below, in honour
of the first planter of the grape in Brittany. To whoever caught the cup
before it fell, and presented it uninjured to the Chapter, was adjudged a
prize of two hundred crowns.
The two spires of the cathedral are modern, and were built by an annual
subscription of a sou for five years, called the "sou du St. Corentin:"
more than 600_l._ was thus raised. They have only been lately finished.
[Illustration: 28. Beggar. Quimper.]
The men about Quimper all wear the national costume—enormous bragou-bras,
or breeches of a kind of white sail-cloth, a broad-brimmed felt hat, long
hair, falling over the shoulders, wooden shoes, and a broad belt with
metal buckle. Their woollen jacket and waistcoat are edged with gay
colours, and have sometimes the itinerant tailor’s name and the date of
the making of the garment, embroidered in wool upon the breast. On gala
days brown or blue cloth bragous are worn, tied with coloured ribbons at
the knees, black leather gaiters with buttons, and the sabots are replaced
by leather shoes and costly silver buckles. The national costume is more
preserved in Cornouaille than in the other parts of Brittany. The pen bas
or cudgel, with a large knob, like the Irish shillelah, is always ready at
hand:—
“Comme une conque immense ouverte au bord des eaux,
En Cornouaille est un port, il y vient cent bateaux.
Un sable jaune et fin couvre ses côtes plates,
Mais un infect amas de rogues, de morgates,
D’ossements de poissons sur le rivage épars,
La saumure qui filtre entre ses deux remparts,
Soulèvent tous les sens quand cette odeur saline
Arrive au voyageur qui tourne la colline,
Laissant derrière lui les taillis de Melven,
La belle lande d’or qui parfume Aven,
Et ces mouvants aspects de plaines, de montagnes
Que déroulent sans fin nos sauvages campagnes.
Plus de batteurs de seigle ici, plus de faucheurs,
Mais des canots chargés de mousses, de pêcheurs,
Partant et revenant avec chaque marée,
Et sur les quais du pont versant à leur rentrée,
Des sardines en tas, des congres, des merlus,
Des homards cuirassés, de gros crabes velus;
Et, du fond des paniers, mille genres énormes,
De toutes les couleurs et de toutes les formes,
Avec leur œil vitreux et leur museau béant,
Tous enfants monstrueux du grand monstre Océan.
Aussitôt le pressier les sèche, les empile,
Et quand leur grasse chair a degorgé son huile,
De Nantes à Morlaix cherchant les acheteurs,
On voit bondir sur mer les hardis caboteurs."”
_Les Bretons_—BRIZEUX.
[Illustration: 29. Concarneau, with Sardine Boats.]
Thus the Breton poet describes Concarneau, a little fortified town, which
has been called the St. Malo of Cornouaille, and is celebrated for its
sardine fishery. The road lay through a wooded country, with steep hills
and valleys, intersected by streams: on the right a view of the Bay of La
Forêt, where extensive oyster-culture is going on. After a tedious journey
with miserable horses, we reached Concarneau at nine, a distance of little
more than thirteen miles, having set off a few minutes after four.
Concarneau proper is on a rocky island, surrounded by fortifications, with
eight or nine towers and thick walls, and communicating with the mainland
by means of a drawbridge. This is called the "Ville Close." It consists of
only one street. When Duke John IV. embarked from here for England, he
left Sir Robert Knollys governor of the duchy. The constable Du Guesclin,
after the surrender of Hennebont and Quimperlé, took Concarneau by storm
and slew all the English garrison, except the captain, who received
quarter.
Opposite the island is the faubourg Sainte Croix, which is more populous
than the Ville Close, and where all the business of the place is carried
on. The sardine fishery, from June to November, occupies two-thirds of the
population. From three to four hundred vessels are employed with five men
to each boat. Calm weather is most favourable for fishing. The sardines
are taken in large seine nets, one side floating with corks on the surface
of the water, the other falling vertically. The sardines, attracted by the
bait, try to force themselves through the meshes of the net, and are
caught by their gills. The bait used is called "rogue:" the best is
composed of the roe of the cod-fish, pounded and steeped in salt water for
several days; sometimes the roe and flesh of the mackerel is used. Rogue
is made in Norway and Denmark, but principally at Drontheim, and is very
expensive, costing about sixpence the lb.; hence an inferior bait is
substituted, composed of shrimps and other small crustacea, with fish
salted, and the heads of anchovies, all pounded and putrified together.
But this kind of decomposed bait is forbidden by the fishery laws. The
employment of it accounts for the rareness of good sardines, as the
remaining of such a substance in the body of the animal cannot fail of
corrupting it. It is a pretty sight to behold the little fleet employed in
the sardine fishery return in the evening, laden with the results of the
day’s work. The fish, when landed, are counted out into baskets, shaken in
the water, and taken up to one of the curing-houses: of these there are
about sixty in Concarneau. In the first shed we saw above fifty women
employed in taking off their heads—"detêter" it is called—an operation
they effect with great dexterity. With one cut at the back of the neck the
head is separated and the fish "éventré" at the same time.
The sardines are next placed in little wire trays, with divisions like a
double gridiron, and fried or dipped in boiling oil, an operation
principally performed by the women of Pont l’Abbé, who are supposed, like
the Germans of our baking and sugar-refining houses, to be peculiarly
constituted to resist heat. The gridirons are then hung up to drain. The
sardines are next packed in tin boxes, cold oil poured over them, and the
boxes soldered down. From 800 to 900 boxes are placed in a boiler and
boiled for half an hour to test the boxes, and those which leak are put
aside. They are of English tin, and the making of them is the winter’s
occupation. Finally, the boxes are stamped with the name of the
establishment, and packed in deal cases for exportation. The sardine is a
very delicate fish, and easily decays. It is only taken out of the net
with a rake (_raquette_); in summer, numbers are spoiled from being heaped
in the boats, and at whatever hour the boats come in the fish go through
the whole process of curing, as they will not keep till the next day.
Concarneau exports from 15,000 to 20,000 barrels of sardines annually.
Only a part are "anchoitée," that is, preserved like the anchovies of the
Mediterranean, the others are salted in casks; and quantities, only
slightly salted, are packed in baskets, to be sent to the provincial
markets. It is estimated that twelve hundred million fish have been caught
this year. The sardine fishery extends along the whole western coast of
Brittany from Douarnenez to the Loire.
One of the curiosities of Concarneau is its aquarium, under the direction
of M. Guillon. It consists of six cisterns, made by the blasting of the
solid rock, and comprising an area of large extent, within a walled
enclosure. In these cisterns the water is renewed at each turn of the tide
through narrow openings in the wall. Three of these reservoirs are
reserved for fish, the others for crustacea—lobsters and langoustes. Of
these they keep from 10,000 to 15,000 at a time, and send them off daily,
when fattened, to Paris and the principal markets of France. It was
curious to see the dread shown by the common lobster to the langouste.
They all were adhering to the sides of the reservoirs as if afraid to
encounter their more powerful companions. Quantities of turbot, also
reared for sale, were in one of the cisterns, darting with the greatest
rapidity in the water when the keeper threw in pieces of sardines for them
to eat. At the end of these cisterns is a building, with every arrangement
for the culture of fishes—rows of little troughs, and other vessels, to
contain them. Many of the fish are so tame, they came immediately to the
keeper on his making a noise in the water with his fingers. Here are fish
of every description, and naturalists have every facility of studying
their habits. Among others, we saw the graceful little sea-horse or
hippocampus, a native of the seas of Brittany as well as of the
Mediterranean.
[Illustration: 30. Dolmen. Trégunc.]
From Concarneau to Quimperlé is a distance of above eighteen miles. The
road runs near the sea, over a large tract of land covered with furze
(ajonc), which, in Brittany, grows from five to six feet high, forming a
solid impenetrable mass. Huge blocks of granite are scattered about in
every direction, jutting out from among the furze—menhirs, cromlechs, and
dolmens—a perfect wilderness of Celtic remains. We drove over an extent of
several miles of furze-covered hills and heathy land. Before we reached
the village of Trégunc we stopped to see a large dolmen on the side of the
road, and further to the right a rocking-stone, twelve feet long and nine
feet thick, standing about fifteen feet from the ground, the second
largest in Brittany. It is poised by a little projection, like an inverted
cone, upon another rock lying half-buried in the ground. The upper block
can easily be set in motion by the hand. It is called by the country
people "La pierre aux maris trompés," and was formerly consulted by
husbands to test the fidelity of their wives. Even now the partner of a
faithless wife is said to be incapable of giving to the stone the rocking
motion it so easily receives from another.
[Illustration: 31. Rocking Stone. Trégunc.]
On the left we passed the majestic ruins of the castle of Rustéphan,
_i. e._ Run, mound, of Stephen, having been built by Stephen Count of
Penthièvre at the beginning of the twelfth century. It belonged in the
thirteenth to Blanche of Castile, the mother of St. Louis. The present
edifice dates from the fifteenth. One of the sides remaining has a
cylindrical tower with pinnacled doorway, and the windows have stone
mullions.
[Illustration: 32. Château of Rustéphan.]
Pursuing our road through blocks of granite, we descended into the valley
of Pontaven, the town of millers, according to the old saying—
“Pont Aven, ville de renom;
Quatorze moulins, deux maisons;”
a little port built upon rocks, at the foot of two elevated mountains,
over which are scattered masses of granite boulders, obstructing the
course of the river which bounds over them. The banks are lined with woody
slopes; wooden bridges cross the river at intervals; mills are established
on the ledges of the rocks on its sides; and the noise of the mills, with
that of the sparkling river tumbling through the rocks in waterfalls, keep
up a perpetual din. Pontaven is celebrated for the quantity of its salmon:
so much is taken, that it used to be said that the millers fattened their
pigs upon this fish, which was literally true, as they took the small
salmon, called glésils, in nets (_poches_) for that purpose. Salmon now is
very dear. At the mouth of the Pontaven river was a castle, whose
proprietor had the privilege of firing upon the fishing-boats which
returned up the river without giving to the castellan their finest fish,
which his steward went down to select. Pontaven is seven and a half miles
from Bannalec, the nearest railway station. After remaining a few hours we
drove on to Quimperlé—in Breton, Kemper (confluence) Ellé—so called,
because it is at the confluence of two rivers, the Elle and Isole:—
“Vous reverrai-je encore, ô fleuve de l’Ellé,
Vous, Izôle, où mon cœur est toujours rappellé!
Les eaux sombres de l’Ellé, claire ceux de l’Izôle;
De ces bords enchantés je dirais chaque saule.”
BRIZEUX.
Quimperlé is a great resort for fishing, the Quimperlé salmon and trout
being renowned throughout Brittany, and even at Paris. This town is
beautifully situated, surrounded by high hills, in a valley, watered by
these bright rivers, the hills covered with gardens, orchards, the
Ursuline, Capucine, and other convents, and crowned by the steeples of the
Gothic church of St. Michael. Its principal building is the church of St.
Croix, formerly that of a Benedictine abbey, celebrated for its riches.
The island of Belle-Ile-en-Mer then belonged to it. It is a most singular
edifice, built in the eleventh century, after the model of the church of
the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. In 1862 it fell down, but is at present
in course of restoration, after its original plan. The old abbey buildings
are now occupied by the Prefecture. We were given permission to pass
through the convent garden—the workmen and building materials having
blocked up the other entrances—to see the crypt in which is the tomb of
Saint Gurloës, first abbot of Quimperlé. His effigy, with crosier in hand,
his feet resting on a dragon, lies upon a monument, about three feet high,
with an opening in the lower part. The saint—Saint Urlose, as the Bretons
call him—is invoked principally for the gout, and persons so afflicted
crawl through the hole under the tomb, where, suspended by chains, is an
iron hook. They twist a lock of their hair round this hook, and tear it
off with violence, hoping to propitiate the saint by this
mortification—evidently a remnant of heathen times, when hair was
sacrificed to deities or to the memory of departed friends.
At Quimperlé was buried John de Montfort, rival of Charles of Blois for
the ducal crown. Sent to Paris under a safe-conduct by the Dauphin John,
Philip of Valois had him shut up in the Louvre, whence he escaped, after a
captivity of three years, to England. Edward III. espoused his cause and
granted him some troops. After an unsuccessful attack upon Quimper, De
Montfort died (1345) at Hennebont, and was buried in the church of the
Dominicans at Quimperlé. He appointed Edward III. guardian of his son, and
Edward immediately occupied Quimperlé and caused money to be struck in his
name. Lord Lewis of Spain, on the side of Charles of Blois, made a descent
upon Quimperlé at the head of 6000 men, and pillaged the whole country. On
the news reaching Sir Walter Manny, he hastened to meet the enemy, took
possession of their fleet, and made such carnage of the soldiers, that
they were all killed or taken prisoners, and Lewis of Spain escaped with
difficulty. The country about Quimperlé is beautiful—wood and water in
every direction. The department of Finistère is traversed by three hundred
streams, and has an extent of nearly four hundred miles of coast. We were
advised to go and see the rood-screen of the chapel of Rosgrand, but had
no time. We visited the ruins of the church of St. Columban. Above a
round-arched doorway is a beautiful flamboyant window, between two
canopied niches. We next walked up to the Place near St. Michel, where a
cattle-market was being held. The Breton peasants, with their long shaggy
uncombed hair hanging round their shoulders—they comb and wash only on
fête days—their dirty canvas bragou bras, patched coats, and sabots with
tufts of straw crammed in, looked more dirty than it is possible to
imagine. Cleanliness is the last of the Breton virtues. The market and the
fair are the two great events of the country, and people flock from great
distances to sell their merchandise. But of all extraordinary animals is
the Breton pig, as tall as a donkey; a lean, long-necked, ragged, bristly,
savage-looking beast, as ill kept as its master, and it runs like a
greyhound when approached. The Breton cow is very small, small as the
Kerry cows of Ireland, very pretty and very productive. The Breton butter
is proverbially good, and is given out most liberally, in lumps as big as
loaves, at the tables-d’hôte. It is brought to market in jars which the
women carry upon their heads. It is to the Queen-Duchess that Brittany,
and indeed all France, owes the privilege of eating butter in Lent. It
was forbidden as animal food by the laws of the Church, and oil, a
vegetable production, ordered as a substitute. In 1491, Anne solicited of
Rome, for herself and household, permission to eat butter on fast-days,
alleging, as a plea, that Brittany did not produce oil. Encouraged by this
favour, Brittany obtained the same indulgence, and it was acquired
successively by the other provinces of France; but all are originally
indebted for the privilege to the good Queen-Duchess Anne.
Next day, leaving the department of Finistère, we entered that of
Morbihan, and went by rail to Lorient on the river Scorff, here joined by
the Blavet. It was formerly the seat of the French East India Company; it
is now one of the five military ports of France and the residence of a
maritime Prefect. In the Place Bisson is the statue of a young officer of
the French navy, a native of Guemené-sur-Scorff (Morbihan). When
commanding, in 1827, a brig in the Greek Archipelago, he was attacked by
two pirate vessels. Nine out of his fifteen men were killed and himself
wounded; the enemy crowded on the deck. Desiring the survivors of his crew
to jump overboard, "Now," cried he to the pilot, "is the moment for
revenge!" and, setting fire to the powder-magazine, he blew up himself,
his ship, and the pirates who had boarded her. Next morning the bodies of
seventy Greeks lay on the sea-shore, showing the success of his
self-devotion. The pilot, who, with four sailors, was saved, received the
decoration of the Legion of Honour. On the pedestal of Bisson’s statue is
an inscription, concluding with these words: "Mort en héros, pour son roi
et sa patrie, ses amis le pleurent, la France le regrette, et ses frères
d’armes envient son sort."
From here we proceeded to Hennebont (Breton, "old bridge"), famous, in the
War of Succession, for its heroic defence by Jeanne de Flandre, during the
captivity of her husband, Jean de Montfort, who had been taken prisoner at
Nantes and carried off to Paris. Jeanne, who, as Froissart says, had the
courage of a man and the heart of a lion, placed herself at the head of
his party. Like another Maria Theresa, she presented herself before the
Breton lords, with her infant son in her arms, and received their oaths of
allegiance. She then joined in the defence of Hennebont, which was
invested by Charles of Blois. Clothed in armour and mounted on a
war-horse, she galloped up and down the streets, encouraging the
inhabitants. She ordered the ladies of her suite and other women of the
place to cut short their "keytels," carry the stones to the ramparts, and
transport pots of quick-lime to throw down upon the enemy. At the head of
300 horsemen, the Countess, who rode better than any squire, sallied out
of the town, attacked and burnt the enemy’s camp, retreated to Auray, and,
a few days after, re-entered Hennebont, with banners flying and trumpets
sounding. But the blockade was so close that provisions were wanting, and
the garrison compelled her to agree to a capitulation, unless within three
days assistance arrived from England. The time was on the point of
expiring, and a herald had approached the gate of the city to receive the
keys in the name of Charles of Blois, when the Countess, from her window,
perceived at sunrise the English fleet entering the port in full sail. She
exclaimed, "We are saved!" The siege was raised, and the Countess, says
Froissart, kissed Sir Walter Manny and all his companions, one after the
other, two or three times, like a noble and valiant dame. "Better,"
observed Charles, when he heard the news, "that Jeanne, instead of her
lord, had been shut up in the Louvre." He left the carrying on of the
siege to Lewis of Spain, and proceeded to Vannes and Auray. Some fragments
of walls are all that remain of Jeanne de Montfort’s castle, which was
situated on a height on the other side of the river in the "Vieille
ville." The town on the left bank of the Blavet is called the "Ville
neuve" and the "Ville close," being surrounded by walls. Large vessels
ascend the Blavet to Hennebont. It is traversed by a light and elegant
railway viaduct of twelve arches. We saw on the quay a quantity of red
iron-ore from Bilbao.
Hennebont is a very pretty town; the principal building is the church of
Notre Dame-de-Paradis, of the sixteenth century, with a fine square stone
tower, surmounted by a beautiful spire, and a tall porch, forming one side
of the tower. This handsome church has lately been restored. The scenery
about the Blavet is very pretty—the banks wooded, and fertile fields. We
took a boat and rowed up the river, passing the ruined Abbaye de la Joie,
where a hideous château has been built. This was a Cistercian convent,
founded in the thirteenth century by Blanche of Navarre, wife of Duke John
I. (_le Roux_). The chapel of Notre Dame-de-Paradis formerly belonged to
the convent; but when the parish church was demolished, the Abbey ceded
this chapel to the town, reserving the privilege of a separate seat for
the Abbess, who, on the Sunday after St. John’s day, had her crosier
carried before her in state by one of her vassals at high mass and
vespers.
From Hennebont we went by rail to Auray, and established ourselves for
some time in the Pavillon d’en Haut, a most comfortable hotel. Auray is
situated on the slope of a hill, the streets narrow and steep.
Our first drive was to Ste. Anne d’Auray, one of the most famous places of
pilgrimage in Brittany, on account of its miraculous well and church. It
has been called the Mecca of Brittany. Here, according to the legend in
the seventeenth century, Ste. Anne appeared to a countryman, and directed
him to dig in a certain field, where he would find her image, and to build
a chapel there. Guided by a miraculous light, Nicolazic discovered the
statue, and erected a chapel on the site.
[Illustration: 33. Scala Sancta. Ste. Anne d’Auray.]
The spring where Ste. Anne first appeared is now enclosed in a large basin
of cut stone. Near it is the church, in course of reconstruction. It
stands in a court surrounded by covered galleries for the shelter of the
pilgrims. Two flights of steps, called the Scala Sancta (after that of St.
John Lateran), lead to a platform over the three entrance gates, upon
which is an altar surmounted by a cupola, where mass can be heard by
20,000 persons. The steps are ascended by the pilgrims barefooted, as they
do at Rome. The fête of Ste. Anne is celebrated on the 26th of July, when
pilgrims arrive from all parts of Brittany to visit the miraculous statue,
to ascend the holy staircase, and to drink or wash in the sacred fountain.
It was a fête day when we visited Ste. Anne. There was a large assemblage
of people, and booths were erected round the court, where were sold
rosaries and the wire brooches, with scarlet and blue tufts of worsted,
called _épinglettes_, worn by the Bretons in their hats as a token of
their having made a pilgrimage. We saw exhibited the photograph of a young
lady, said to have lately recovered from paralysis after bathing in the
holy well. So world-wide is the fame of Ste. Anne d’Auray that a traveller
mentions having seen at her shrine an embroidered altar-cloth of Irish
damask, with "Irlande: Reconnaissance à Sainte Anne, 1850," woven into the
pattern. The convent, with its enclosure, the Scala Sancta, fountain, and
miraculous bush, all date from the seventeenth century. There is a railway
station for Ste. Anne, within two miles of the church.
Returning to Auray, we went to the Chartreuse, which owes its origin to
the chapel of Saint Michel-du-Champ founded (1382) by John de Montfort,
afterwards Duke John IV., on the spot where, in 1364, he gained the battle
of Auray, which obtained for him the duchy of Brittany. The chapel is
close to the railway station. In the fifteenth century it was given to the
Chartreux, and became a monastery of the order which existed until the
Revolution. The present church was built at the end of the reign of Louis
XV.
The battle was fought on the marshy plain by the side of the muddy river
Alrée. It is fully described by Froissart. In the two armies were
assembled all the chivalry of England, France and Brittany. The
Breton-English were commanded by Sir John Chandos; the French, by Du
Guesclin; with de Montfort were also Sir Robert Knollys, Sir Hugh
Calverley and Olivier de Clisson; with Charles of Blois, Du Guesclin, the
Comte d’Auxerre, the Viscomtes of Rohan and Tournemine, and Charles de
Dinan. At the moment of the battle, the white greyhound of Charles of
Blois deserted his master and ran to his rival de Montfort, who was on
horseback, and caressed him, standing on his hind paws. De Montfort
recognised the dog by his collar, ornamented with the arms of Brittany,
and this incident passed through his army as a favourable omen. The dog
was known to have been the gift of a witch to Duke John the Good, who
bequeathed it to his niece Jeanne, wife of Charles of Blois.
Both armies heard mass, confessed themselves, and received the Communion
before they opened the battle. The war cry of Charles was, "In the name of
God and St. Ives," Montfort repeated the motto of his family, "Malo mori
quam fœdari" (better to die than be sullied), and his troops advanced to
the onset to the cry of "Malo." Both chiefs wore the ermines emblazoned on
their armour and their standards; and relatives and friends were ranged in
battle array against each other. Following the tactics which had been
successful at Cressy and Poitiers, Chandos quietly awaited the impetuous
attack of the Franco-Breton army, which was unable to shake their
antagonists, who returned the charge. The melée was fearful, but the
battle was in favour of the English. Charles performed prodigies of
valour. In vain Rohan and Laval rallied round him with the flower of the
Breton knights; the prince was a prisoner, and an English soldier
despatched him by plunging a dagger into his throat. Du Guesclin sustained
all the force of the fight with his heavy steel mace, his battle-axe and
his sword; but his mace was broken, the handle of his axe carried away,
his sword shivered, and he had no other weapon left but his gauntlets, and
was nearly overpowered by numbers, when Chandos, who fought with a
battle-axe, entreated him to surrender, "Messire Bertrand, rendez-vous,
cette journée n’est pas vôtre; il faut céder à la fortune, une autre fois
vous serez plus heureux." Convinced of the truth of Chandos’ words, Du
Guesclin surrendered to him the handle of his sword. Beaumanoir was among
the prisoners; and Clisson, who never left the field, lost an eye in the
conflict.
A hair shirt was found, with thick knotted cords round the waist, upon the
body of Charles, for he delighted in deeds of mortification. He often used
to place pebbles in his shoes, and once walked two leagues barefoot in the
snow to visit the relics of St. Ives, in consequence of which he was laid
up for three months. He was buried at Guingamp, and his widow and
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