HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS
IN
NORMANDY
Rouen : the Great Doors, a Study^ 1897-1899.
Highways and Byways
in Normandy
BY PERCY DEARMER, M.A.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
JOSEPH PENNELL
Honfoon
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1904
All rights reserved
RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED,
BREAD STREET HILL, E C. , AND
BUNGAV, SUFFOLK.
First Edition, 1900.
Reprinted, 1904.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
INTRODUCTION. GISORS I
CHAPTER II
LES ANDELYS AND CHATEAU-GAILLARD ......... 21
CHAPTER III
LOUVIERS, EVREUX, CONCHES, BEAUMONT-LE-ROGER, SERQUIGNY,
BERNAY 42
CHAPTER IV
LISIEUX, SAINT-PIERRE-SUR-DIVES, FALAISE, ARGENTAN, ECOUCHE,
RANES, LA FERTE-MACE, BAGNOLES J2
CHAPTER V
DOMFRONT, MORTAIN, V1RE .104
CHAPTER VI
MONT-SAINT-MICHEI 126
viii CONTENTS
CHAPTER VII
PAGE
AVRANCHES, GRANVILLE, COUTANCES, SAINT LO 164
CHAPTER VIII
BAYEl'X, CRKULI.Y, FONTAINE HENRI, THAON, LASSON . . . . IQO
CHAPTER IX
CAEN 211
CHAPTER X
CAEN TO HONFI.EUR, I'ONT-AUDEMER, BEC, AND ROUEN ... 24!
CHAPTER XI
267
CHAPTER XII
Rul'KN D> IE HAVRE. ST. C.EORC.ES DE ROSCIIERVI l.LE, DUCLA1R,
JTMIEC.ES, ST. \VANDRII. I.E, CATDEBEC, I.I I.I.EBONNE, TANCAR-
VIL1.E, HAKi-T.EfR, (1RAYII.I.E 3O2
CHAPTER XIII
II. HAVRE TO DIEPPE. I.E HAVRE, ETRETAT, FECAMP, YALMONT,
SAINT-YALKRY-EN-CAUX, MANOIR D'ANGO, POURYILLE ... 327
CHAPTER XIV
DIEPPE. AR'JTES, El' 347
365
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
ROUEN, THE GREAT DOORS, A STUDY, 1897-1899 . Frontispiece
PONT-DE-L'ARCHE i
A FOREST ROAD NEAR PONT-DE-L'ARCHE 5
GISORS CASTLE 9
THE KEEP, GISORS 15
ROAD TO LES ANDELYS 19
CHATEAU-GAILLARD FROM THE SEINE VALLEY 21
CHATEAU-GAILLARD 25
CHATEAU-GAILLARD AND PETIT-ANDELY 29
CHATEAU-GAILLARD THE KEEP 3!
NEAR PETIT-ANDELY 34
THE SEINE NEAR LES ANDELYS 40
THE SEINE NEAR VERNON 42
THE PORCH, LOUVIERS , 45
FORTIFIED FARM NEAR CONCHES 55
CONCHES 59
BEAUMONT-LE-ROGER 6l
BEAUMOUNT-LE-ROGER : ENTRANCE TO THE ABBEY 66
THIBERVILLE 70
x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
FALAISE CASTLE T 2
LISIEUX 75
ST. JACQUES, LISIEUX 77
NO. 33 RUE AUX FEVRES 80
SAIN T-PIERRE-SUR-DIVES 8l
ON THE RIVER DIVES 82
THE LOWER TOWN, KALAISE 83
WASHING PLACE, FAIAISE 84
FAI.AI^E CASTLE: THE TOUR TALBOT 87
ST. GKRVAIS, FALAISE 9O
CHATEAU NEAR FALAISE 93
THE CASTLE, AKCENTAN 96
\KC.KNTAN : THE TOWER OF ST. GERMAIN 98
ARc.KNTAN IOO
THE ORNE AT AKC.ENTAN IOI
THE OLD MARKET HALL, ECOUCHE IO2
DOM FRONT: N< >TKF. DAME-SUR-I/EAU 104
CASTLE AND CRAG, DOMFKONT I IO
MORI'AIN 114
CHAI'KL 01- ST. MICHEL, MORTAIN . 115
TINCHEP.RAY 117
VIRE: PORTE-IIORLOOE Il8
THE CHURCH, VIRK 119
RUINS OF. CASTLE, VIRE I2O
IIII. MARKET PLACE, VIRE 122
CHATEAU AT SAINT-JAMES 123
THE CROSS AT SAINT-JAMES 124
MHNT-SAi: NT-MICHEL FROM THE SANDS 126
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xi
PAGE
MONT-SAINT-MICHEL 128
CHEZ POULARD AINE 136
PORTE DU ROI, MONT-ST. -MICHEL 138
THE STREET, MONT-ST. -MICHEI 139
CHEMIN DE RONDE, MONT-ST.-MICHEL 14!
THE MERVEILLE, MONT-ST.-MICHEL 144
THE RAMPARTS, MONT-ST.-MICHEL 145
ENTRANCE TO THE ABBEY, MONT-ST.-MICHEL 149
THE DIGUE, MONT-ST.-MICHEL 151
TOWN AND ABBEY, MONT-ST.-MICHEL 155
A PASSAGE, MONT-ST. -MICHEI l6o
WITHIN THE GATES 162
AVRANCHES 164
WASHING PLACE, NEAR AVRANCHES . l66
LE ROC DE GRANVII.LE l68
OLD TOWN, GRANVILLE 169
THE HARBOUR, GRANVILLE , 170
SPIRE OF ST. PIERRE, COUTANCES 173
THE CATHEDRAL, COUTANCES . 174
COUTANCES 175
COUTANCES 177
COUTANCES . 179
SPIRES OF SAINT-LO l8o
SAINT-LO l8l
SAINT-LO FROM THE RIVER 183
THE MARKET IN THE PLACE DES BEAUX-REGARDS 184
MAISON DIEU, SAINT-LO 185
NOTRE DAME, SAINT-LO 187
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
1 88
INSIDE THE CHURCH, SAINT-LO
CHATEAU AT ESQUAY I 9
AT THK CORNER OF RUE SAINT-MARTIN 193
THE CATHEDRAL, BAYEUX 197
A STREET IN BAYEUX 2OI
CREUI.LY 206
A BIT OF CREULLY CASTLE 2o8
FONTAINE HENRI 2IO
LA YII.LE ATX CIOCHEKS 211
CAEN : ABHAYE AUX HOMMES 217
A STKLET IN CAEN ... 2IQ
CAEN : ABBAYE AUX DAMES .... 221
CAEN : SI'IRE OF ST. I'lERRE 225
CAEN: SI. PIERRE FROM '1'HE MARCTIE AU BO1S 229
ST. SAUVEUR, CAEN ... 235
TROUYII.I.E, INNER HARBOUR 239
OUISI KEIIAM 241
WAI. I. HI) FARM, NEAR CAE: 242
1IIE CHURCH AT DIYF.S 243
TROUVILLE . 244
THE BKACII, TKOrVILI.E 245
LOOK INC TOWARDS HAVRE FROM Yll.LERYILLE 246
HONFI.EUR : IN THE OLD HARBOUR .... 247
I HE HARBoUK, HONFLEUR 248
HONFI.EUR 249
IOWKK OF ST. CATHERINE, HONFLEUR 250
IIMIIV; FLEET, HONFLEUR HARBOUR 251
CHURCH \\I) MARKET, PON T-AUDEMER 254
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
PAGE
A BY-ROAD 256
THE TOWER, EEC HELLOUIN 260
CHATEAU NEAR LA BOUILLE 265
THE NEW ROUEN 267
OLD ROUEN 268
THE GROSSE-HORLOGE 269
STREET OF THE CLOCK, ROUEN 271
TOUR ST. ROMAIN 273
PORTAIL DE LA CALENDE 275
ROUEN FROM BON SECOURS 279
ROUEN 283
STREET IN ROUEN 293
THE SEINE BELOW ROUEN 3O2
THE ABBEY OF ST. GEORGES DE BOSCHERVILLE 304
CLIFF DWELLINGS ON THE SEINE, NEAR DUCLAIR 306
FERRY AT DUCLAIR 307
JUM1EGES 309
JUMIEGES , 313
THE SEINE AT CAUDEBEC 314
RUE DE LA BOUCHERIE, CAUDEBEC . . 315
AT THE FOOT OF THE TOWER 317
CAUDEBEC, FROM THE LILLEBONNE ROAD ........ 318
THE ROMAN THEATRE, LILLEBONNE 319
LILLEBONNE 32O
TANCARVILLE CASTLE 321
SEINE NEAR TANCARVILLE 323
HARFLEUR 324
THE MOUTH OF THE SEINE 325
xiv
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
326
1 HE CHURCH AT GRAVILLE
ST. JoriN, NKAR ETRETAT 3 2 7
TIIK H<">IF.I. I>E VII. I. K, HAVRE 3 28
01 O IIAYKF. 3 2 9
MONT1VII.1.1KKS 33
IAI.AISF. H'AMONT, F/FRKTAT .... 33 1
[AI.AISE D'AVAl., F.TRKTAT 33 2
I! IF. I'.KACH, F.TKF.TAT 333
NnRMXM'Y FAttM, NKAK KIRKI'AT 335
Mil; ( II! kCIII.s. I K( AMI' 337
ST. VAI.KRV-KN-CAl'X 343
nsinxc I-.OATS ... 344
I'OI'l AK I INF.D KOAH 345
FI^IIINC. IJOATS i.F.A\'iN; niMi'rr: ... .... . 347
I 111. M\l;Ki: I. DIFI'I'K 349
Mil'. HiWl.K <>I- ST. JAC^H'F.S 35 2
i>iEi'iK 354
mr.i'i'K CASTI.K 355
I HI', i VSINi >. IMFITF. 35^
1 1 1 1. ri-i. ii \i: i'.' 'i' K 357
VP..TKS CASTLE 359
INTERIOR OF Mil. < HTKi II. AK^TF.s 3 6j
HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS
IN
NORMANDY
NOTE TO SECOND EDITION, 1904.
Tlu- text has in a few places been corrected and brought
up to date. The author will be grateful for any further
corrections that may be sent to him, c/o Messrs. Macmillan,
St. Martin's Street, \V.(\, for use in the event of any further
edition bcinc called tor.
Pont de VArche
HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS
IN
NORMANDY
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION. GISORS
EVERY one knows Normandy, and therefore Normandy is
hardly known at all. It suffers from being too readily
accessible, and is remembered generally for its fashionable
watering places, or for one or two of its historic towns. Yet
now that the bicycle makes any departure from the main rail-
way lines easy for us, there is open even to those with small
leisure a new Normandy, a country varied, beautiful, and rich, a
series of towns and villages that are less spoilt and not less
interesting than the few frequented places. One can stay
almost anywhere for a month's holiday without exhausting
the number of excursions possible to a moderate cyclist-
It would be easy to leave the route that is here suggested
3E B
2 UNKNOWN NORMANDY CHAP.
at almost any point and discover fresh country, which I
have to leave unmentioned in these limited pages. Indeed,
it is with something of pride that I confess to the omission
of a cathedral, and several ancient towns, and the most re-
spectable range of hills in Europe. There was no room
for them, unless the tour was to become a rush and the
book a catalogue. Yet here let me do brief justice to that
remote corner of Normandy where are Alengon, Mortagne,
the monastery of La Trappe, and the cathedral-village of Sees ;
and to the beautiful valley of the Orne below Ecouche (where
our route has to leave it) whose venerable and modest hills
were as high as our modem Alps, in the age when there
were no mountains in Switzerland ; and to that other corner
of the province, the Cotentin, with its ancient churches of
I. essay and Yalognes, and its bristling port of Cherbourg.
Should you leave the route which I have sketched at any
point, as well you may, you will find interesting churches at
nearly every village, and many ancient castles and less ancient
chateaux here and there. For these you can always fall back
upon Joanne (Guides-Joanne : Normandie : Hachette et Cie.,
7 IV. 50) ; and indeed I shall assume that you have this excel-
lent guide with you. Its maps alone will save you more money
than it costs ; they are extraordinarily complete for the more
frequented districts about the Seine and the seaboard towns,
and for the- remoter parts you can get the best cycling maps
anywhere in Normandy. The ordnance maps (Carte de France
;l -JIMMMM.) arc f course perfect, and they can be got also at a
s<alr ot -,-,00.7' l)l it if you want them for the whole of Nor-
mandy they make rather a large parcel. Joanne's Guide, which
can be divided into pocketable parts, gives very complete
information about hotels, places of amusement, and museums.
It also sketches the history of every town, and goes into detail
about the churches. This particularity I have avoided, con-
ceiving it my duty rather to notice the special points of
interest and beauty in old churches ; but with castles I have
, A DULL PAGE 3
ventured more into detail, since they do not afford the obvious
features of the ecclesiastical plan, and are never adequately
explained in guide books. In the case of painted glass, which
is one of the special glories of Normandy, I think that travellers
need for its due enjoyment more description than has hitherto
been vouchsafed to them.
Not much need be said in the way of practical advice.
France is for the traveller a civilised country as compared with.
England. Here we have to fight for our luggage on the
platform at a journey's end ; there we hand up a ticket to the
hotel-porter and it appears. Here we have to pay exorbitant
charges for the carriage of a bicycle ; there it costs only a penny
(for registration) from one end of France to the other, and the
machine is neither lost nor damaged. As for hotels, it is
hardly an exaggeration to say that in France one is treated
twice as well and charged half as much as in England. The
roads in Normandy are splendid for cycling, the only dis-
advantage being that the straightness of many main routes
hides the beauty of the country, for which reason it is often a
good plan, when time is not an object, to pick out the byways
on the map. This is the easier, because not only are the
byways excellently kept, but the name of a French village is
plainly written up, and one does not have ridiculous difficulty
(as sometimes in England) in finding out where one is. Sign-
posts and milestones are abundant, and the decimal system
renders them perfectly simple and exact. It need hardly be
said that the small stones represent hundreds of yards (counting
the yard as & me f re, though, strictly, 100 metres = 109-36 yards)
and the milestones represent kilometres, or thousands of yards.
Nevertheless, it is often a long time before English travellers
with English cyclometers become used to reckoning distances
by this unit ; therefore it is convenient to remember that
5 kilometres are about 3 miles. 1
1 The exact figures are: I kilomUreVXft yards I foot n inches;
5 kilometres = 3 miles 188 yards 7 inches ; 8 kilometres are just under the
5 miles ; 50 come to 3 1 miles.
B 2
4 WAYS CHAP.
Most English people are taught enough French to under-
stand a guide-book in that language, but few know enough to
ask properly, and politely, for the simplest things. Swan's
Travellers Colloquial French (Nutt, is.) is an excellent little
book for this necessity. It can be supplemented by Nutt's
tiny Conversation Dictionary (25. 6d.}, and a French-English
dictionary is also worth packing. The C.T.C. Handbook,
Foreign Edition (Cyclists' Touring Club, 47, Victoria Street,
S.W., \s. M.) should be taken, not so much for the occasional
prospect of discount, as for its hints on touring and the exact
prices which it gives for a large number of hotels. It is
certainly worth while to join the C.T.C., both for the sake of
the information it gives, and because the ticket of membership
acts for a passport at the Customs and Post Office.
With regard to luggage, it must always be a matter of taste
whether one prefers a laden machine with complete independ-
ence, or a light machine and a fixed stopping-place. But it is
well for the untravelled cyclist to know that he can send his
luggage on by train from the hotel cheaply, safely, and easily.
1 have found it very convenient to combine the two methods,
fixing on the stopping-place one or two days ahead, and carrying
only enough on my machine for the requirements of a night or
two ; very often, when a day's run was quite settled, I have packed
my bicycle bag with the luggage and ridden with nothing but
tools and a lamp. Bicycles are carried very tenderly on French
railways, and any sort of protection for them is an intolerable
nuisance-. It is not, of course, necessary to increase one's
luggage with things that can be easily bought ; there is an
abundance of shops in F ranee, cycling shops especially. The
one exception is tobacco, and the Customs will let you pass a
pound if you declare it. Money is best carried in the shape
of bank notes, which will be changed at any large or small
town at the same rate as English gold. Fresh supplies of
bank-notes can be sent out from one's banker in registered
envelopes to a hotel, or to a Poste Restante, where a passport
or C.T.C. ticket is required to prove one's identity. If one
AND MEANS
A Forest Road near Pont-de-V Arche
takes a portmanteau, it is easy to carry a sufficient change
of clothes, including some linen shirts and collars, and also
that most precious boon, a folding india-rubber bath. It is
most important to wear nothing but woollen clothes for cycling,
6 GISORS CHAP.
and if one does this I do not think it is worth while carrying a
mackintosh. There is no place in Normandy where one cannot
wear a knickerbocker suit with an easy conscience.
(lisors is for many reasons a good starting place for Norman
travel. From Paris, it is the natural gateway into the province;
and the traveller from Dieppe will, I think, find it pleasanter
to go straight through Rouen, and make his start right away in
the country at (lisors ; he will probably be quite glad to reach
Rouen later on, when he has spent some weeks in remoter
places. However, many people will prefer to break the journey,
at least for the night, at Rouen, and perhaps to take to the
road afterwards. Those who wish to ride the whole way will
find the highway from Dieppe to Rouen through Totes perfectly
direct and rather dull, the only point of interest being the
beautiful parlour of the inn on the high road at Totes. From
Dieppe, the road goes through Boos, which has a pigeon-
house finer even than that of the Manoir d'Ango (ch. 13),
Henry, Kcouis, and Etrapagny. Some people may care to
lengthen the ride by going round to Pont-de-1'Archc, as the
road from Rouen to this place is a great favourite for its
beauty ; but really the banks of the Seine are beautiful every-
where.
(lisors was the key to Normandy in the days when French
fought with Knglish for the duchy. William Rufus foresaw
the struggle and fortified the stronghold. Philippe Auguste,
the royal warrior who added Normandy to the kingdom of
! ranee, did much fighting at (lisors, and when it came into
his hands lie built on to the castle a round tower like those at
Falaise and Rouen. The place where the rivals used to
discuss terms is now covered by the railway that runs through
the outskirts of the town. It was called the Champ Sacrc
because of an incident that happened during the fever of the
Third Crusade, when, on a wintry day of 1188, our Henry II.
embraced his foe under the great elm-tree that marked
the .spot. Henry and Philippe both received the cross from
i PHILIPPE AUGUSTE 7
the Papal Legate ; as they did so, the sign appeared miracu-
lously in the sky, and all the soldiers raised a great shout,
" Dieu le volt! La Croix ! La Croix ! " But the reconciliation
did not last a year, and the kings soon met again under the
famous " Elm of Conferences." This time the weather was
hot, and the English knights happened to be standing within
the elm's shadow, while the French were exposed to the sun ;
whence arose taunts and mockeries on the part of the English,
and threats from the French that they would destroy the tree.
Then Henry ordered bands of iron to be fixed round the
trunk ; and when this was done the French grew more furious
than ever. In the end they were victorious : Philippe ordered
the iron-clad tree to be cut down, and only its memory re-
mained in a name that was given to the holy field Champ de
FOrmeteau Ferre.
Philippe, who carried through his policy of creating France
with cold, unswerving enthusiasm from boyhood to death, took
advantage of the treason of John and the imprisonment of
Richard Cceur-de-Lion to secure Gisors ; and it was as a result
of this encroachment that Richard built Chateau-Gaillard,
whose history will be told in the next chapter. It was at
this time that Philippe nearly lost his life at Gisors by an
accident that is recalled in one of the modern painted
windows of the church. He was retreating from the town by
the Paris gate, when the wooden bridge gave way and threw
him into the river. Weighted with armour and entangled
with his horse, the king caught sight of an image of our Lady
which stood over the gateway (for she is patroness of the town,
and under her feet it was named to her for gift, Gisortium
Virginis Donarium), and he cried to her for succour. After-
wards, in memory of his escape from the waters, he placed a
golden robe upon the image, and caused the iron-gate beneath
it to be gilded. Thenceforward the gate was called the Porte
Doree, and the bridge, rebuilt then and often since, retains the
name of Pont Dore to this day.
5 THE CHURCH OF ST. GERVAIS CHAP, i
A cure of Gisors in the time of Louis XIV. commemorated
the escape in Latin verse, which begins :
" Anglum dcbcllans, aliquando Philippus in Eptam
Cursu prajcipiti, pontc ruente caclit.
Auratam Augustus pinxit sub Virgine portam "
and so on. To-day an old statue of our Lady of Gisors in
gilded bron/e perpetuates the story; in 1856 this image was
rescued from an obscure closet in the church tower and solemnly
set up by the Archbishop of Rouen.
There are two buildings of the first importance to be seen
at (iisors. One is the castle, a splendid example of ancient
military architecture ; the other is the church which lays at
our feet the history of the French Renaissance.
As we go from the Trois Foissons inn along the Rue Fosse-
aux-Tanneiirs, we pass on our left a curious old sculptured
house, whereon acrobats are mingled with sacred subjects : on
our right is the river Kpte, clear beneath the scum of soap
which diligent washerwomen are spreading ; on the further
side of it a trellis of vine protects a garden of purple phlox.
The turning to the right, at the end of the pleasant street,
brings us to the east end of the church of St. Gervais, and at
once we see that it is like no other church. It is the chevet
that is before us, bristling with jovial gargoyles, formidable
with many buttresses ; but it is square in plan, and as we look
at the eastern side (for it does not look like an east end) we
might fancy it was part of an hotcl-de-villc. It is, in fact, a
late casing of chapels and rooms thrown up round a thirteenth-
century choir that was built by the mother of St. Louis.
Looking up, we can see the old tower of the same period, and
a great nave built right up to its summit, with the evident
intention of swallowing the modest tower whenever the new
choir should be built. The latest gothic is trying to devour
the earliest.
We pass round to the west front, and here we are face to
Gisors Castle.
face with one of the most interesting monuments in France.
It is strange at first sight, and perhaps a little desolate and
repellant ; but let us consider what it means.
Gisors was the centre of a Renaissance school which had a
1Q THE RENAISSANCE AT GISORS CHAP.
style of its own, quite different, as you can see, to that of
Rouen, and different also to that of Caen, which you will be
able, later on, to compare with it. A notable family of archi-
tects lived at ( lisors, the ( Irappin, whose influence was widely felt,
luiiiel had already begun the transformation of St. Gervais
with the chevet, which he completed between 1497 and 1503.
Robert Grappin took on the work with the nave, which he
built c. 1530. He was too bold; for it fell down ten years
afterwards with an awful noise, and had to be rebuilt. After
Robert came Jean (irappin the First, and then the second
Jean. Thus in these three men we have the very last Gothic,
the first stage of the Renaissance in the picturesque Fran^ois-
PremL-r style, and its final development in Vitruvianism.
The north tower belongs to the period of Francois I. It is
classical only in detail. In spirit it is Gothic, a Gothic broadened
by the use of the new forms of ornament which so delighted the
men of that time. We see here how the transition became
possible to the architects who had just been revelling in the
picturesque freedom of the Flamboyant style : they evidently
did not foresee that their new plaything would become so heavy-
handed .1 master, crushing all their freedom with antiquarian
rules. The north tower is full of fancy, full of charming caprice ;
it has long belfry windows like any older tower, and some
of the round oculi have pretty busts in them. On the upper
story is an octagonal lantern, above it a little drum, and on
the drum a tiny cupola. We shall see the whole effect better
when we walk up to the castle : even here we can realise how-
pretty it is, how original, how picturesque.
Hut the south tower is by Jean Grappin the Second ; Francois
Premier's reign is near its end, and the Renaissance is passing
into the influence of Yitruvius ; the long age of the formal and
the correct has begun, an age that has lasted down to our own
time. The tower, of ungainly and unprecedented breadth, is built
up in orders: the first story is of the Doric order; the second
has the horned capitals of the Ionic, and the architect was
! PALPABLE ORTHODOXY Ji
going to complete the tale when the Governor of Gisors inter-
vened. "If this tower is built any higher," said he, "any one
could mount cannon on its platform and bombard the castle."
So the orders were unfolded no further.
Yet the long hand of Vitruvius has not quite crushed the
soul out of the last of the Grappin. He binds round the tower
a great through-cut wreath of foliage, which is all his own.
The central part of the facade is inferior to the south tower,
which indeed is, in spite of its faults, infinitely superior to
anything that could have been done in the golden age of
Louis XIV. The curious vault over the carving of Jacob's
dream does not attract me, nor does the heavy and meaningless
arcade above it. This upper part was begun by Jean the Second
in 1562.
It was before the west porch that Henri IV. was required to
give a further proof of his newly acquired orthodoxy, soon after
he had decided that Paris was worth a Mass. The king entered
Gisors, and presented himself before the church ; but the Cure,
Pierre Neveu, was a noted pillar of the faith, and he remem-
bered certain heretical doings of Henri during a former visit :
so he shut the gates in the king's face. But Henri of Navarre
was not the man to be put out by trifles : " Make me do," he
said, "all that is necessary to please God and the people."
" Kneel, Sire, and adore the Cross of our Lord," said the
Cure ; and this the king did with much devotion.
" Vive k roi!" cried the people. The gates flew open, and
Henri entered, saying with his indomitable gaiety, " Ventre
saint-gris I So now I am King of Gisors ! "
If you pass in through the central doorway and turn round
to the right, you are inside the unfinished tower. It is a
strangely shaped chapel, with a heavy, noticeable vault, and a
high spiral staircase in the corner that is admirable in its way.
Just outside this chapel is the famous Pilier des Marchands, a
pleasant fantasy with its little figures of drapers, shoemakers,
tanners, and other marchands, and its legend above the heads
[2
INSIDE THE CHURCH CHAP.
of the top series of figures, "Jefusicimisla*ri$26*
Beyond it are two other strangely decked pillars : the further
is covered with twisted panelling. On the upper part are
dolphins most decoratively arranged, the "dauphin" having the
same meaning to a Frenchman of that time as the Prince of
Wales' feathers have to us. The nearer pillar has a very
subtle twist in it, and is ornamented with a ring of pearls and
a row of cockle-shells.
And now let us take a general view of the nave, which, you
will remember, was being rebuilt (after its fall) at the time when
the architects of the west front had bidden good-bye to their
Gothic mother. Its pier-arches are high and graceful, and the
shafts on the piers have become mere mouldings ; it has very
large clerestory windows, and is flanked by a double row of light
aisles on either side. In front of us is the thirteenth-
century choir : we turn round and face the classical organ
gallery, far too ornate, but a successful essay in pomp for all
that. We will pass up the southernmost aisle, noticing the
charming bits of old glass in the windows, and come to the
south transept gallery, a handsome bit of work, supported by
a cornice boldly carved with naturalistic leaves. When we have
taken in sufficiently the spirit of this very pleasant interior,
we can go out by the north transept door, and look at the north
porch, which marks the first appearance of the Grappin in the
person of Robert (c. 1520). It is a riot of pretty ornament,
and the angels who excitedly play upon musical instruments
are the prettiest of all. The panels of the door are typical
Francois-Premier work. You will notice that on one leaf is the
Adoration of the Magi, and on the other the Annunciation :
each figure stands separate in its panel, which gives a structural
completeness to the whole and enhances the quaintness of the
story-telling, especially where the dandy St. Gabriel addresses
the stolid Madonna. I make bold to put this door consider-
ably above the more celebrated ones at St. Maclou (ch. n).
For one thing it is a real door.
I GISORS CASTLE 13
From the east end of the church we will go across the High
Street, and through the narrow passage between the houses on
its further side, to the castle. It is important not to go into
the castle any other way, for we are now to get our first idea of
a feudal stronghold. At Rouen you will be able to see in the
restoration of the Tour Jeanne-d'Arc one principle of early
defence, the use of wooden hoards. At Chateau-Gaillard you
may examine the system of defence in further detail. Here at
Gisors you can get an excellent general idea of a splendid
castle. We go up first through a small gate and winding stair-
case into the barbican, or small outer court protecting the
entrance.
Now the principle of medieval defence was the opposite to
that of modern times. With our present artillery, the be-
siegers make a breach, and the fortress is taken. In medieval
warfare, the defenders opposed to the attacking force a series of
obstacles : each was a separate fortress, and when one had been
taken the siege had to be begun again under renewed difficulties
in a cramped space, where there was little room for the engines
of attack. So here, having won your way into the barbican,
you would still have the main entrance before you, and from the
little recess above the doorway various unpleasant projectiles
would be showered upon you. Inside is the chamber for
working the portcullis. Away on the right is a formidable round
tower, called now the Tour du Prisonnier. From its summit
the mangonel, or some other engine, would emphasise the fact
that the door is not always the best place by which to enter an
enemy's castle.
Nowadays we can pass through the little side gate that a
complaisant municipality has left open for us. We stand in the
outer court, a vast enclosure, capable of housing a considerable
body of men. It is laid out as a public garden, a jardin anglais,
and children play about among the luxuriant trees, while the
peaceful inhabitants of Gisors circulate round a band-stand and
listen to the martial strains they love. How far off seem the
I4 MEDIEVAL WARFARE CHAP.
clays of war ! Yet those grey-haired men who are chatting
under the laburnum remember how, not thirty years ago,
Gisors was the headquarters of a Prussian invading force.
But you must pass out of the gate on the opposite side and
look at the walls : their height cannot be realised from within.
It is only when you walk up the sides of the moat and notice
that the trees which grow in it hardly overtop the battlements
that you realise how formidable they are. Yet here would be
a better place for the attack, if we were back in medieval
times. We should throw countless faggots into the moat till
it was filled at the point we had chosen : then we should run
close up to the wall a great wooden tow r er, with ladders on the
outside, and up these our soldiers would climb and throw
themselves on the parapet of the wall ; but first we should have
bombarded with stones from our great mangonel the wooden
hoards on the wall, so that they could no longer shelter the
defenders. 1C veil now we might be driven back by the con-
centrated arrows, darts, and stones from battlement and
towers, or our tower might be burnt by the enemy. Then we
should have to make a breach by the approved methods practised
at Chateau-Gaillard (p. 29). Suppose that after days of patient
sapping a part of the wall tumbles in and the breach is made.
The defenders will have prepared for this by throwing up a
wooden palisade behind the threatened bit of wall, like a patch
on a bicycle tyre. So as we entered through the breach we
should be met by a shower of arrows from behind the palisade.
After some hand-to-hand fighting we might force this also, and
become possessors of the great court, though our army would
be smaller now than it was.
But what avails it? In the midst of the court rises a huge
mound, an artificial hill. It is crowned by a buttressed wall
of many sides which encloses the inner bailey. Its parapets
would be- manned by the enemy, and we should have to climb
up the steep sides of the mound under a show r er of molten
lead to storm it. If we succeeded, we should only find it
I A TREASURE LEGEND 15
empty, and our enemy comfortably lodged in the central and
topmost tower of all, the donjon or keep.
Possibly the enemy might have disappeared altogether by
one of the underground passages that were so valuable in
ancient warfare. Gisors has one called the Souterrain de la
reine Blanche which is said to communicate with Neaufles
The Keep, Ghors.
Castle which you can see some three miles away. No one has
ever explored the recesses of this passage, for it is blocked up ;
but everybody in the Vexin knows that it conceals somewhere
a treasure that passes the dreams of avarice, -could one but
reach the cavern where the fiends guard it ! Unfortunately,
however, the natural difficulties connected with blocked
passages and fiends are increased in this case by the fact that
the demon in charge snatches a few moments of well-earned
rest only once in the year. This is at Christmas, during the
midnight Mass, at the time when the priest reads the long
Genealogy, and many who are not demons feel the assaults of
slumber. While the Genealogy is a-reading, says the local
tradition, the demon sleeps, the subterranean flames die down,
,6 A STRATEGIC QUEEN CHAP.
and the diabolic protection is in great measure removed.
That is time for the treasure-seeker : but at the completion of
the Genealogy, the demon wakes up, and, if the explorer is
still within the labyrinths of this under-world, he never sees
the light again.
The story goes that Queen Blanche of Castille, the mother
of St. Louis, and builder of the choir of Gisors church, gave
her name to the passage through a strange feat of war.
She was besieged in Gisors, and one day, having made too
rash a sortie, found herself cut off with her little force, and
unable to make her way back to the town. Then, as the
twilight gathered, she led her followers to the little hill where
stood the dismantled castle of Neaufles. The night fell as the
Queen's men disappeared into the ruin ; the enemy gathered
round, and waited for the dawn which should make the Queen
of I'Yunce their prisoner. At the first rays of the sun they
nvpt up to the old castle, but no arrows flew from thelichened'
loopholes, and the entrance gaped before them undefended.
Within, all was open and all empty; not a sound was heard
but their own cries of vexation and the clattering of their own
armour. The Queen and her men had vanished like the
l-'or Blanche had led her knights back to Gisors by the
secret passage. And now, while her assailants were seeking
lor some explanation of the mystery within the castle of
Neaufles, she marched out from Gisors with a larger force, and
pounced upon her foes, whose confusion gave place to abject
terror at the sight of this new marvel, so that they fled incon-
tinently before the Queen.
Such was medieval warfare. But in an age when the defence
of a walled city is merely a vigorous protest against the inevit-
able, we can see no terrors in these bulwarks. They are only
picturesque in their garment of lilac and periwinkle; and we
will grt the lady at the corps-d<'-<*arde to open the little wooden
LMte l(r us. As we enter the inner bailey, we see on the left
I THE INNER BAILEY 17
the well without which the castle would have been soon
reduced ; and near the well are two arches with a gargoyle of
unusual shape between them. Its purpose was also unusual ;
through it was poured the lead that had been melted on a fire
in one of the arched recesses. On the right of the bailey are
the remains of a Norman chapel, of interest to us because it
was the chapel of Sf. Thomas de Canterbury whom we call
Becket. We can creep up the side of the keep by the stair
turret that gave admittance into its various stories, and from
the top we shall have a magnificent view. The turret was a
later convenience ; the keep itself was the creation of Robert
of Bellesme ingeniosus artifex, Orderic calls him who built
it c. 1097 for William Rufus. Our Henry I. added the bailey
walls, and the tower and walls of the city beyond ; and
Henry II. completed the work. For do not let us forget that
we are standing on the frontier of what was once part of the
English Kingdom. These walls were built to keep out the
French, though they failed in the end.
But we must follow- our guide along the wall to the great
round tower on the East and learn why it is called the
Tour du Prisonnier. It is in excellent preservation and its
shape is characteristic of the age of Philippe Auguste. We
walk straight into a vaulted chamber, where there is a brick
oven, then we can mount by a staircase in the thickness of the
wall to the platform on the top, where we discover what a
perilous height this tower is on the outside. Underneath the
chamber by which we entered is another, and underneath this
we reach with the aid of candles the cachot or dungeon, which
is famous for its pathetic carvings, scratched out slowly with a
nail on the three parts of the wall that receive some little light
from the loopholes. They are excellently done ; for amateur
art requires a whole-hearted attention, and this at least the
prisoners could give.
Many unfortunates must have lived in this cell, for the
carvings are traced by more than one hand. But one name
c
!8 THE PRISONER OF GISORS CHAP.
occurs, that of Nicolas Poulain, and he is the Prisoner from
whom the tower takes its title and throws up its legends. As
a matter of history, it seems that Poulain or Polham was a
gentleman in the service of Mary of Burgundy. Taken
prisoner at the Battle of Guinegate by Louis XL, he was to
have been hanged with several others of his party on a
conspicuous tree, but an order coming for his reprieve
through the kind officers of the Duchess of Burgundy, he was
brought to ( iisors, where he lay for four years until Louis was
dead.
Old k-gcnd and modern novelists have delighted in the
Prisoner of (iisors. His name was Poulain, that is the one
lad which fiction accepts. He was a page of Queen Blanche
of Kvreux, whom he rescued from a fire ; the old King Philip
of Yalois found his wife with Poulain at her feet, and threw
him into the prison at (iisors. Poulain escaped, was wounded
by an arrow, and eventually died in the arms of his beloved.
All this is told of him, and much else.
By the Rue de Paris, on the way to Gisors-Ville station,
there is a little stream (-ailed the Re'veillon, concerning which
there- is a touching superstition that whoever drinks of its water
must, however far he may wander, come back and end his
life at (Iisors. And so, when conscripts have been taken
away from this quiet place to the bloody wars of which they
knew so little, they would kneel down and drink the magic
water,
A /('//^.v h\iits Us bu~'aicut Tespoir
says the poet of (Iisors, in the hope that they would see again
sweethearts and home. And this gracious fancy has kept
many a poor fellow in good heart as he lay shattered upon
alien fields. 1 low often must these smiling waters have broken
faith ! And yet they must sometimes have given just the
medicine of hope that was needed to make a man conquer
in the fight with death ; nor may we blame them even when
their iiKigir failed, and peasant lads in their agony passed from
REVEILLON
Road to L,cs Andelys.
dreams of a far-off peaceful home to a home that is yet farther
and a peace that is more profound.
Lazy people can go to Les Andelys from Gisors by way of
c 2
20
THE RED ROBE CHAP, i
Saussay-la-Vache ; at Saussay they will have to leave the train
and take the diligence to Les Andelys, or they can ride this bit,
as it is mostly down hill. The active can, of course, easily
ride the whole way, and they may find it interesting to go by the
disors' two neighbour fortresses of Neaufles and Dangu. The
former is a ruin, as we have seen ; the latter was one of the
finest in the province till the vile taste of the First Empire led
its proprietor to destroy the greater part of it. Dangu was a
stronghold of the first importance in Anglo-Norman days,
becMiise of its command of the frontier valley of the Epte, but
the p.irt that remains is not earlier than the fifteenth century.
In the reign of Louis XIII the castle belonged to the Comte
de Houteville. This gentleman lias a place in history for his
defiance of the celebrated edict against duelling; he and the
Cnmte de Chapelles fought two other lords in broad daylight
in the Place Royale at Paris. One of their opponents was
killed, and Richelieu determined to prove that no lord was
above the law. In spite of the efforts of the greatest families
in France, Botiteville and Chapellcs were executed in 1627.
Might years afterwards Louis XIII arranged to visit Dangu in
the company of the Cardinal, but when the widowed Madame
de Bouteville heard of the intended honour, she sent this
message :
"The King will be received at Dangu with the honours
due to the majesty of a King of I'Yance ; but, as for the Cardinal,
I shall place under the draw-bridge twelve barrels of powder,
to which a light will be applied as he passes, in order to send
him to he.iven, where he ought to have been long ago."
The King came alone. Hut Richelieu had his revenge, and
in five years I >angu passed into the hands of a recently ennobled
favourite of the uiv;it ( 'animal.
Chateau-Gaillard from tJie Seine Valley-
CHAPTER II
LES ANDELYS AND CHATEAU-GAILLARD
CHATEAU-GAILLARD, famed among fortresses, was the child,
the pet-child, of Richard Cceur-de Lion. It was after this
adventurous monarch had been released from captivity that
he set himself to the task of protecting the Norman frontier
against his shrewd enemy, Philippe Auguste. " The devil is
loose ; take care of yourself ! " Philippe had written to John
on the news of his brother's release ; and the Lion Heart lost no
time in showing that he was indeed loose. Philippe had been
using his opportunities by invading Normandy, and Richard at
once took the field against him, wrung from him a truce, and
proceeded to strike a bargain with the Archbishop of Rouen
by which he exchanged Louviers and Dieppe for the manor
of Andely. Normandy was ceasing to be a natural part of
the English kingdom, and Richard saw that it must be held
henceforward by force of arms ; so, with the instinct of a
great general, he fixed on the rock above Andely for the
stronghold that was to cover the way to the Norman capital.
He had a true genius for fortification, and not only designed
the castle himself, but took care to superintend the building
22 CXEUR-DE-LION CHAP.
operations. It was a magnificent piece of work ; and when
Richard saw his Chateau-Gaillard, his " Saucy Castle," stand-
ing white and new under the sun, in all its bravery of painted
wood and floating banner, he had full right to his cry of
exultation, " Qiie//e csi belle, ma fille d'lui an /"
The fact that the truce he had lately signed pledged him
not to fortify Andely, did not trouble his lion heart. But
Philippe cursed him in his wrath: "I will take it, were the
walls of iron !" lie said, "And I would hold it, were they of
butter ! " was the gay retort of Richard.
Hut in a year Richard died, and John succeeded him. What-
ever ability this scoundrelly brother may have had, he was a
weak and luckless general, perhaps because his falseness robbed
his followers of confidence. It was the opportunity of
Philippe Auguste, who never let an opportunity slip. He sat
down before Chateau-Gaillard, which was held by Roger de
Lacy, the Constable of Chester.
It is worth while understanding the excellence of the
position which Richard had chosen. The French king would
have held Rouen in the hollow of his hand had Chateau-
Gaillard not been built ; for the right bank of the Seine w r as
his, and lu- could bring an army from Cisors, Vernon, and
(iaillon into the very heart of Normandy in a day; a flotilla
could follow in his rear and bring up all the necessary supplies.
Hut now the great castle covered Rouen, held the river, and
threaten, (1 to cut off any French army that should get to the
The Seine at this part, as at very many others, winds abruptly
so as to form a peninsula. Across the neck of this peninsula of
Hernieres, a rampart was thrown which made it a safe camping
groun 1, covered as it was by the Chateau-Gaillard on the
opposite side of the river. A little island stands in the midst
of the river : this was turned into an octagonal fort with
towers and ditches, and the bridge ran across it. Some ruins
of this work remain, \ictc-de-pont, or fortified enclosure, pro-
ii THE POSITION 23
tected the approach to the bridge, and within this enclosure
the town of Petit-Andely soon sprang up. Grand-Andely,
isolated from Petit-Andely by a lake, was also fortified.
Above Petit-Andely, where the promontory of chalk cliff rises
to a height of more than a hundred yards, the Saucy Castle
itself was built. Across the river at this point was set a
stockade of three rows of piles ; and from the site of the
stockade a wall runs up the rocks to an outer tower, the ruins
of which lie at the base of the Castle keep. Thus, any one
trying to force a passage up the river and attack the bridge
would be held back here in an awkward position.
Now a besieging army could not encamp on the rocky
escarpment by the river, nor on the lake between the two
Andelys. Its only possible position would be on the high
plateau to the south-east of the castle. This was indeed the
one vulnerable point ; for the plateau is on higher ground than
the castle itself. Therefore Richard set himself to protect the
south-east angle with special care.
The path from Petit-Andely will take you into Chateau-
Gaillard by a postern, P, at the north-west end, nearest to the
village. When you have enjoyed the view of the Seine, with
its encircling hills that look as if they too were covered with
bastions, it will be best, I think, to make your way straight to
the remotest point of the castle, the foreworks, which surround
the outer court, B, and were built to protect the castle proper
from the dangerous plateau, PL. This outer court is triangular
in shape, and, in addition to its four flanking towers, is armed
at its furthest point with a massive tower, A (the High Angle
Tower), which is exactly opposite the plateau and was built
high enough to command it, and to command as well the
whole advance work. The only stone staircase in the place
was fitted to this tower, in the thickness of the wall, so that
the garrison could carry up projectiles safely and easily here
where they would be most needed. The walls, too, at this
angle are enormously high, and at their base the fosse is so
24 DESCRIPTION OF THE CASTLE CHAI-. n
broad and deep that one marvels to think how these enormous
ditches could have been cut out of the chalk in one year,
This fore-court, B, is a complete fortress in itself; another
fosse separates it from the outer bailey C of the castle proper ;
and the only connection was by a wooden bridge.
The walls of the outer bailey C (which you will next enter,
following the inevitable order of a siege), had five principal
towers ; but part of the north-east wall is gone, with two of its
towers. This bailey, besides forming the second line of
defence, was the principal dwelling place of the garrison. It
contains a well and some remarkable cellars -grottes they are
popularly called which are cut out of the chalk, leaving pillars
of it for their support. On the south-western side of the
bailey are the ruins of the officers' quarters, O (the rank and
file of the garrison no doubt occupied wooden buildings on
the open space above the cellars). This building, O, had a
chapel over the living-rooms, and reached higher than any
of the neighbouring towers. It was into one of its windows that
Hngis climbed, as we shall see : it seems to have been a
curiously neglected weak point ; for a boy who was with me
last year climbed into one of the windows with the greatest
ease. Of course it would not have been so easy to scale when
the wall had its smooth outer coating of masonry ; but still the
fosse is remarkably shallow, and the windows dangerously near
to the ground.
As you stand in the outer bailey there rise before you the
strange, bossed walls of the inner bailey, 1). 'They are coated,
as it were', with an unbroken succession of seventeen half-
towers, and this curious giant-ribbed surface is one of the most
striking features of Chateau-Gaillard ; they must have been
more imposing still before the battlements which crowned
them had disappeared. An enemy holding the outer bailey
would not only have these walls before him, but would be
further held back by the fosse which isolates them from that
bailey. This fosse was crossed on the cast by a wooden
Si I /CHATEAU -GAILLARD
26 THE KEEP CHAP.
bridge that communicated with the gateway, E, the principal
entrance of the citadel, protected by a double portcullis, and
commanded by the keep, K, whence the whole length of the
entrance could be enfiladed.
The keep is conspicuous even in the plan by reason of the
enormous thickness (fourteen feet) of its walls, which project in
a square-edged spur into the bailey, opposite the entrance.
The back of the keep, where the hill falls away precipitously,
is circular in plan, as is also the interior, so that the spur on
the bailey side means so much extra masonry at this the only
point where sapping could have been possible. The keep has
curious buttresses shaped like reversed pyramids ; the upper
part where they joined is destroyed, but no doubt at their
juncture was machicolation for near defence, and at the top of
the walls a parapet for more distant operations. In the
ground floor of the keep is one window, in the first story there
are two ; above them were, according to Yiollet-le-Duc, two
more stories. No doubt a conical roof crowned the whole ;
and one can imagine how magnificent this donjon looked
when Richard first saw it finished and new.
llehiiul the keep are the, ruins of the governor's house, with
a pigeon house, cellars, and other domestic offices beyond in
the outer flanking towers. The governor reached these towers
by a ladder, and the chcmin dc ronde by stairs ; other stairs
led from his house to one of the windows of the keep.
A word as to the exits and entrances of Chateau-Gaillard
will bring us back to the postern from which we started.
From the high angle tower, A, the great fosse runs down to
the base of the escarpment in order to cover a sortie towards
the river; this fosse was reached by tunnels which started
from the cellars of the outer bailey. Again, the outer tower,
O.T., which covered the stockade across the river, was con-
nected by tunnelling with the inner bailey. The gateway, E,
was only reached by a roadway which ran between the walls of
the two baileys to an outer gateway near the northernmost
ii THE SIEGE BEGINS 27
tower, N (now destroyed), not far from the present postern
entrance. And, lastly, this postern, P, by which you climbed
into the castle, is protected by a massive tower.
Such is Chateau-Gaillard, a fortress not planned on the usual
Norman lines, but an original work of genius. It is built purely
for strength : there is no sculpture anywhere, only the rubble
is carefully revetted with stone. Nothing was spared, in the
stupendous labours of that single year, to make it impregnable.
And impregnable it surely was. Yet Philippe Augttste, that great-
est of castle-winners, took it ; and he took it by force, by sheer
force and dash, with but one aid of lucky strategem, as we
shall now see.
Philippe invested the place with his usual skill. The first
thing he did was to take the peninsula of Bernieres, which
covered the approach to Les Andelys across the river. His
next step was to get possession of the river itself. First he de-
stroyed the bridge ; then, with the help of some bold swimmers,
he broke through the stockade, so that he was able to bring
down his flotilla, which consisted of flat-bottomed ferry-boats.
With these boats he made a bridge of his own, and protected
it with two great turrets sheathed with iron.
King John now tried to relieve the besieged; but the line of
circumvallation across the peninsula stopped him in that direc-
tion ; and when he tried to cut off the French force by breaking
up Philippe's bridge of boats, many of his own boats were sunk
by heavy beams thrown on them, and the rest were dispersed.
John then disappeared, leaving his enemy to continue the in-
vestment without molestation. Philippe took the island-fort in
August, 1203, and then occupied Petit-Andely, the inhabitants
flying to Chateau-Gaillard for refuge.
The fate of these poor people is the most terrible incident of
the siege. Roger de Lacy, the Governor of Chateau-Gaillard, felt
himself unable to support so large a body of non-combatants,
and sent them forth from his walls. Philippe allowed the first
batch to pass his lines, and then ordered that no more should
28 ENGINES OF WAR CHAP.
be let through. Some two hundred fugitives found themselves
driven back by French arrows to the castle walls, and then wel-
comed with a shower of stones from the English. An awful
time now began for this company of old men, women, and
children : driven back mercilessly by both sides, they took
refuge in a little valley between the castle and the French
lines. Here they had no shelter from wind and rain, no food
but the grass. Half their number died ; and, to crown the
horror, the survivors devoured an infant that one woman had
borne in her misery. At last, King Philippe happened to pass
near the pitiful remnant ; they threw themselves before him and
begged for release, till even he was touched. Bread was given
them, and they were allowed to pass through the French lines.
Meanwhile Philippe had been establishing his forces round
the now completely invested castle. He threw up lines of
circumvallation (against attempts at outside succour) and con-
travallation (against sorties from within) ; and between these
entrenchments part of which, by the way, you can still see for
yourself he settled his camp in wooden huts for the winter.
l'>y February, 1204, he saw that the garrison was too well pro-
visioned (or starvation to be possible, and he therefore com-
menced the active siege in form.
He had naturally occupied the plateau, PL, on the south-east
of Chatcau-Gaillard, the one dangerous point, as we have seen,
'or the defenders. He now levelled the tongue of land which
brings the plateau up to the edge of the great fosse outside the
high angle tower, A. Here he set up a wooden tower, and the
usual engines, picrricrs and mangonels for hurling projectiles.
The French could now shoot their stones and arrows right into
the outer court, P>, and the English were at a disadvantage in
returning the missiles.
While the artillery was thus engaged, the pioneers prepared
to make a breach in the walls of the outer court. Before
gunpowder was invented (and indeed for some time after)
this had to be done at close quarters. We know that the
THE SAP
29
invaders of Chateau-Gaillard proceeded in the usual manner :
first, they threw bundles of sticks and grass into the great
fosse until they had nearly filled it, and were able to get
across to the foot of the tower, A. They had not, however,
filled the huge ditch high enough ; their ladders did not reach
as high as the masonry of the tower, but rested against the solid
chalk. The story of the siege says that the pioneers then stuck
-^T" .S-f* ''^?t'~
--, ^-^-"C^waNwaw*--
Xr^/S^~JJL/
Chateau-Gaillard and Petit-Andely.
their daggers into the chalk and climbed by their aid to the
base of the tower, where, covering themselves with their shields,
they helped their companions up and began the sap. There
can, however, be little doubt that, in order to dislodge sufficient
masonry, they must have brought up more bundles, so that
they could work under the protection of the " cat." The cat
was a small movable shed that was run up to the foot of the
wall, so that the stones and arrows and fire which were
showered from the ramparts upon the pioneers should not
reach them. As they removed the masonry, the pioneers shored
up the wall with beams in the usual fashion, filled the hole with
inflammable material, and at length set fire to it and withdrew.
As the shoring timbers burnt away, the masonry above began to
sink with its own weight ; a piece of the wall came tumbling
down, and the breach was made. The French rushed in, and
soon made themselves masters of the outer court.
3 o THE EXPLOIT OF BOGIS CHAP.
But though they now held the foreworks, the worst part of
their task was still to be done. The walls and towers of the
outer bailey, C, stood intact before them, and within this was
the massive, ribbed wall of the inner bailey, D, which itself
protected the heart of the fortress, the great keep.
As they were prowling round the outer bailey, seeking for
some means of entrance, a warrior named Bogis noticed that
a window peered incautiously from the building, O. He
climbed on to the shoulders of his companions, and managed
to get enough foothold to reach the window. Finding this
unprotected, he fixed a cord in the empty room, so that his
companions were able to follow him easily and secure the place
unobserved. The door was fastened that led into the bailey, C,
from the room which the gallant little band now held. They
raised a great shout, to give the English an exaggerated idea
of their numbers, and tried to force the door. The garrison
took the alarm, and made a great fire against the wall of the
building. Bogis and his companions would soon have been
driven to retire the way they came had not the wind turned
the fire and smoke away from the burning door on to the faces
of the garrison. By this stroke of luck the assailants were
able to break into the bailey and drive their opponents to take
refuge behind the great walls of the inner bailey, I).
Heing now in possession of the bailey C, the French began
to lay siege to the inner bailey. With incredible efforts they
established a mangonel opposite the gateway E. They then
advanced their pioneers under a "cat" to the same point. At
length they shattered the gate, effected a breach, and dashed
into the inner bailey.
So fiercely did they attack the garrison now reduced to a
hundred and eighty men --that they cut them off and sur-
rounded them. The English were unable to force their way to
the posti-rn of the keep, and after a hand-to-hand fight were
lonvd to surrender, March 6th, 1204. Thus the crowning
triumph <>l Richard's art, the massive keep, was useless after all.
II THE CASTLE AS PRISON 31
In the days when iron protected against iron, it took a good
deal of fighting to kill a man, and it is said that only four men
fell in this last encounter. Philippe Auguste rewarded Roger
de Lacy for his courage by giving him liberty. The English
garrison marched out of the castle, and the golden fleurs-de-lys
CMteau-Gaillard.The Keep.
floated over the proud donjon. Chateau-Gaillard had fallen,
and with it Normandy was lost to England.
A hundred years later the castle was the scene of One of
those events which filled the hideous reign of Philippe le Bel.
Jeanne, Blanche, and Marguerite, the wives of his three
worthless sons, Louis, Philippe, and Charles, were accused of
adultery. Philippe's wife, Jeanne, was acquitted ; for she was
an heiress, and her divorce would have lost the province of
Franche-Comte. Charles got rid of Blanche, and she was
imprisoned at Chateau-Gaillard, whence she was afterwards
taken to end her days in an abbey near Pontoise. Louis sent
his wife, Marguerite, to the castle also ; but he was unable to
get a divorce. Being determined to be rid of her, he gave
orders that she should be quietly murdered. One night this
poor girl of twenty was taken in her cell, and in spite of her
32 THE CASTLE AS QUARRY CHAP.
beauty and her entreaties, was strangled in her shroud. The
lovers of these princesses, or the reputed lovers (for who can
discover the truth about the victims of that reign of terror ?),
were flayed alive.
The three brothers, who are known to history as Louis le
Hutin, Philippe le Long, and Charles le Bel, did not long enjoy
the throne that fell to them all. It was said that the curse
of the Templars, whom Philippe le Bel had tortured and
slaughtered, was upon them. They followed each other in
quirk succession, as death caught them one by one; "etainssinc"
snys an old chronicler mysteriously, " toute la noble lignie et
belle dn Biau roy trespassa en mains de XIII. tins, dont tint
orent grant tnerveille ; nics Dicx scet la cause, laqitclle nous ne
savons." They had had one sister, Isabelle, who became the
mother of our Edward III., and it was his claim to the French
throne as grandson of Philippe le Bel that plunged France into
the Hundred Years War.
After being taken and retaken again and again during the
Hundred Yeais War, the castle fell, as even the sauciest must,
into a respectable middle age, opening its gates with nothing
more than a grumble to Henri IV. in 1591, and serving for a
night as royal palace. But the authorities of Normandy were
aware that the Saury Castle had become a venerable nuisance,
whose existence was a constant temptation to any turbulent
soldier with ambitions. They therefore in 1593 begged the
King to demolish this citadel and its neighbour at Pont de
1'Arrhe. The King consented, and gave Chateau-Gaillard to
the Archbishop for building materials. Thus did the history
of this castle end in entire grimness of sobriety. Yet its last
obsequies are not without their touch of humour. In 1603 the
privilege of quarrying in the castle was extended to the
( 'apurhins of ( Jrand-Andely, who wanted to mend their convent.
So far all went well. Hut seven years later the same favours
wen- granted to the Penitents of Petit-Andely, whereat, of
course, arose great contention. With two religious brother-
ii PETIT-ANDELY 33
hoods and two intimate towns involved, there were all the
materials for a very pretty quarrel. The Capuchins of course
could not come to terms with the Penitents, and Louis XIII
had to intervene ; but the quarrel only freshened up after the
royal mediation. Next year a truce was signed upon the very
ruins themselves by these pacific belligerents. The unhappy
Capuchins found, when it was too late, that the acute document
only allowed them to take the stones from the walls themselves,
a difficult and dangerous operation, while the Penitents had
secured all the rest. It was owing to the legislation which
resulted from this quarrel that so much is left us of the old
walls as we now see.
Thus ended in ignominious peace the greatest monument of
Richard Cceur-de-Lion.
Before we go to the more imposing Church of the Grand-
Andely, let us visit that of Petit-Andely, St. Sauveur. It is
smaller, but it is perfect. A few years after the castle had
brought the fortified village into existence, the church was
built ; it was finished before the first half of the thirteenth cen-
tury was over, and later styles left untouched this gem of early
French art. It was not required to hold a large population,
and yet a more dignified church could hardly be imagined.
It is innocent of the decorations with which later architects
covered their buildings : perhaps they felt, as we feel, that to
have added anything to its perfect simplicity would have spoilt
it. Surely that round ambulatory under its sweeping flying
buttresses is all the ornament that it requires, for proportion
is the very source of beauty. To have tried to improve St.
Sauveur would have been like tattooing the Venus of Milo.
It has a short nave of two bays only, which gives it the
general plan of a Greek cross, and there are no galleries in nave
or transepts ; only a window irregularly arranged here and there
does the work of the clerestory, and this absence of horizontal
lines gives height and dignity to the little nave and transepts.
The whole building is finely vaulted. The piers of the crossing
- 4 AN EARLY FRENCH CHURCH CHAP.
have clustered shafts, which are a comparatively unusual luxury
in France. Everywhere are the satisfactory mouldings which
distinguish the period.
In front of us is the round choir, and about it the round
ambulatory, and beyond is the round Lady Chapel. The
choir has dear little pillars for its seven bays, and is marked
Near Pctit-Andcly.
out for special distinction by a triforium arcade, made up of
pairs of arches, over which is a clerestory with a quatrefoil
between each pair of lights. Some of the original corbels
remain, and those nearest to us on the chancel arch represent
on one side a child in pain and on the other a child that smiles.
Traces abound of the paintings which were laid on in the XV
century : the wall is red, powdered with black fleurs-de lys ; in
the caps and mouldings is ochre and green ; in the triforium
arc figures of saints in a good state of preservation, and over
the high altar is the Rood with Mary and John. The glass
above is modernised. It is worth remembering that here, as in
other Roman Catholic churches, the original proportions of the
sanctuary are spoilt by the arrangements which modern Roman
ceremonial requires. The altar here entirely dwarfs the arches,
ii GRAND-ANDELY 35
and its ornaments are of glaring inappropriateness. Whenever
we see a gothic chancel or chapel we must bear in mind that it
was built for a plain altar, which was draped in rich material,
but had no gradines behind it, and generally had a curtain at
the back and sides about the height of the officiating priest.
It was usually devoid of ornaments, and had at the most two
candlesticks on it at service time. As a Gothic church was built
for its altars, the changes which modern fashion impose upon it
put the whole work out of focus. And this is worse when the
modern altars are so-called Gothic. At Louviers we do not
need to be told that the huge Madonna holding out her son in
such dramatic fashion was not in the mind of the mediaeval
architect ; but at Evreux we shall see a white and gold erection
which the guide-book tells us (in big print) has been recently
designed "in the style of the XIV century." As a matter of
fact, it is no more like a Gothic altar than St. Paul's Cathedral
is like the Parthenon.
If you sit in one of the aisles and look at the vaulting of the
ambulatory, you will see that the entrance arches are irregular
in their lines, and that the vaulting behind them is strangely
uneven. They were made thus so as to act as buttresses for
the relief of the choir pillars, because the frequent inundations
of that time made the soil insecure. As you walk round the
ambulatory you may notice the high, round abaci of the shafts,
and the three lancet windows in the lovely little Lady
Chapel.
No part of France or England is richer in painted glass than
Normandy, and the church of Grand-Andely (Notre-Dame)
contains some of the best glass in the province. But the
building itself is also of great interest, and it will be convenient
to look at that first.
We enter by the western door an Early French church the
west front, though unusual in its arrangement and containing
modern statues, is unmistakable thirteenth century work ;
so are the pier arches of nave and choir. But the triforium
D 2
36 A MIXTURE OF STYLES CHAP.
and the east window rather suggest our own Perpendicular, and
betray a later date, while the tracery of the triforium, some of
it extremely graceful, belongs clearly to the time when gothic
traditions were being forgotten, to the sixteenth century, in fact.
Still, we are unmistakably in a church of early date, until we
reach the crossing, and then all is changed. The piers of the
tower have been remodelled. The south transept has a
sumptuous gallery and rose-window, by which the whole wall
is made open to the day, and its triforium is a taller, lighter
edition of that of the nave. But the north transept, what a
strange difference ! There is still a rose, but it is classical ;
there is still a triforium, but it is the queerest thing imaginable,
made up of round and square holes between little pilasters.
There is also a clerestory, a round-headed arcade, with tracery
above it, and here and there among the pier arches Corinthian
capitals appear.
So the thirteenth century west front deceived us a little. We
go out again through its door, and find that the sides of the
church are indeed very different to the front. The south aisle
and transept are rich Flamboyant, and little beasts crawl up its
windows to do service as crockets. The transept is, indeed,
late fifteenth, its porch and the chapels early sixteenth century
work. We pass round the west again looking up at the pure
lines of its early towers, and come to the north transept.
There are excellent little caryatids of Jean Gonjon's school in
the porch, two Victories above distribute palms and crowns,
and sculptured vases do duty as gargoyles. The columns that
flank the porch have a peculiarity : they are too short for their
work, but the architect could not make them longer without
breaking his rule as to the module or proportion between the
diameter and length of a column ; so he filled up the gap above
the capital with a sort of cushion. The architect who, about a
century later, designed the clumsy, square columns of the aisle
at the side had no such scruples.
To turn from form to colour we will go into the church
ii THE GLASS AT GRAND-ANDELY 37
again and walk straight up to the mass of blue glass that
is visible at the end of the south aisle. This glass in the south
choir aisle contains the history of St. Peter ; though fine in
colour, its figures are rather lifeless and ungraceful, and have
commonplace expressions. They are from the same cartoons
as those of St. Vincent at Rouen. The next glass, that in
the Chapel of the Sacred Heart, is restored. The choir
windows contain life-size figures of the Apostles holding the
articles of the Creed, according to the legend that each of
them contributed one sentence. There is also in the western-
most window a figure of St. Remain with his gargoyle, of
which we shall hear again when we come to Rouen. This
window, which contains also St. Catherine and St. Nicholas
of Myra, is shown by its coats of arms to have been given by
Henri II. about the year 1550, for they show his titles as
Governor of Normandy and Rouen (1531), as Dauphin (1536),
as Duke of Brittany and King of France (1547).
The best glass is in the south aisle and the clerestory of the
nave. Let us take first the aisle, beginning at the east:
1. St. Sebastian : St. John Baptist : the Blessed Virgin : an
Archbishop: (probably St. 6vode, who died at Andely): the Mag-
dalen : note the gorgeous use of yellow ornament in this window :
the magnificently dressed figure of the Virgin and Child has, to
me, a quite wonderful charm of dignity and feeling.
2. The Annunciation : a superb Assumption : the monk
Theophilus, delivered by our Lady from the shaggy red devil
with whom he had signed a pact. This most precious work is
dated 1540.
3. Do not pass this window because of the ugly modern
glass in which St. Clotilde figures as the British Matron. The
upper lights are old, and represent with delightful subtilty and
truth of drawing a procession of St. Clotilde's relics ; it shows
us how the clergy and people looked in the sixteenth century,
the priest singing as he walks in apparelled albe and crossed
stole, the clerks, in full surplices, with cross and lights, the
3 8 ST. LEGER AND ST. CLOTILDE CHAP.
gentlemen in cloaks and coats of varied cut which illustrate de-
lightfully the peas-cod doublet and other fashions of the time.
4. Life of St. Leger. Le'ger was Bishop of Autun and a
great plotter in the seventh century ; neither his rivalry with
Ebroin nor anything else we know of his life had aught that
was saintly about it. (i) He is banished to the monastery of
Luxcuil (which he deserved, for he had previously imprisoned
Kbroin there). (2) The Duke of Champagne puts out Le'ger's
eyes, and cuts off his tongue. (3) By order of Ebroin, Leger is
stripped of his bishop's robes. (4) He is a prisoner.
(5) Ebroin has him beheaded.
5. Story of St. Clotilde. The upper lights deal with the
struggle of Gondebaud with Clotilde's father, and the inevitable
murders of the period. In the lower lights is the story of the
betrothal of Clovis and Clotilde: (i) Clovis gives the ring to
Aurelien. (2) Aurelien, disguised as a beggar, gives the ring
to Clotilde, who is splendid with her red hair and golden dress.
(3) Gondebaud gives Clotilde to Aurelien. (4) She arrives at
the palace of Clovis.
6. Rest of the story of Clotilde. Upper lights : (i) Clotilde
in prayer ; (2) Clovis promises her to become a Christian ;
(3) Battle of Tolbiac, at which Clovis vowed to turn Christian
if he had the victory ; (4) Clotilde instructs her husband.
Lower lights : (i) Baptism of Clovis in the year 496; (2) His
alms ; (3) Clotilde builds a church at Andely ; (4) Miracle of
the fountain at Andely (p. 40). Nothing could be better than
the architecture and landscapes of this series.
Perhaps the glass in the south clerestory of the nave is the
finest of all. Worked into tracery, some of which is very
original and graceful, it is peculiarly well suited to its high posi-
tion, and has a character quite distinct from the rest. The first
three windows, especially, have a free and massive solemnity
that reminds one sometimes of Blake. Notice the limbs, and
clouds, and fire, of the Creation, which is the subject of the
first window. In this and the next the greens, and the blue,
n SIGHT AND SOUND 39
and flesh-colour are splendidly managed, and so are the blues,
browns, and purples of the third. The Creation window was
given by the Confrerie du Saint-Sacrement, or Freres de la
Charite, a pious confraternity that was to be found in most
towns of Normandy, and did much the same work as the
Misericordia in Florence, with the additional duty of escorting
processions of the holy Sacrament. They are represented at
the foot of the window carrying a corpse to burial, and wearing
their long cloaks and characteristic blue hoods. What skill
the artists of this time showed in making their figures walk
gracefully ! The second window gives the history of Adam
and Eve, Cain and Abel. In the third is Noah, with a de-
lightful Renaissance ark. In the fourth are scenes from the
life of Abraham, of Joseph, and of Moses. The upper lights
of the fifth are restored ; below are the Red Sea and the Manna.
In the sixth are Moses with the Seventy very dignified Elders,
and the death of Korah, Dathan and Abiram.
By way of contrast there is some glass of the period of de-
cadence in the northern chapels i, St. Christopher: 2, The
Crucifixion (1616): 3, St. Vincent (1611). Examples of this
period are rare.
The organ-case is a magnificent example of Renaissance art,
both in its architecture and its carving. The organist's seat is
the loveliest part of this superb piece of work. It is dated
1573, and the names are clearly inscribed under the figures
that adorn it ; they are the queerest jumble of virtues, sciences,
and gods, with a Madonna on the organist's seat and some
Old Testament saints on the buffet. Most of them might as
well bear other names, but Geometry plays the triangle, and
Minerva has her attributes.
In the south-west chapel there is a well-known group of the
Entombment, attributed to the age of Louis XIII. ; the figures
are carved with great skill and boldness.
In Grand-Andely, and not far from the church, is the Fon-
taine de Sainte-Clotilde. A basin surrounds the cold and clear
40 THE MIRACLE OF QUEEN CLOTILDE CHAP.
waters of the spring, and is divided into two parts, for men and
for women. Above it is the statue of the saint surrounded by
crutches and other votive offerings. On June 2nd, the vigil
of St. Clotilde's day, the fete of Grand-Andely, there is a pil-
grimage to this spot, and wine is poured into the spring with
much ceremony.
The Seine near Les Andclys.
It was with the event that the wine commemorates that the
history of Les Andelys began. Clotilde was building a con-
vent for nuns at Andely ; the workmen were tired and thirsty,
but the year had been bad and there was nothing but water
for them to drink. Whereat they grumbled, as others have
grumbled since ; and Clotilde, moved, we are told, by com-
passion, and perhaps also fearing a strike, prayed that the water
might have (for the workmen only) the strength and taste of
wine. After drinking of it, the masons sought out the queen,
threw themselves on their knees, asking her pardon, " et la
recognoissant pour une saincte de grands m'erites devant Dieu, et
confesscrent que jamais Us n\woient beu si bon vin" The con-
vent was happily finished, and became so considerable that, in
tlie days of Bede, the English thanes used to send their
daughters over to Andely to be educated. The Norman in-
vaders destroyed the convent, but the church of Notre-Dame
II A FAMOUS HOSTELRY 41
was built on its site. From those early times till now, the
well of St. Clotilde has been a place of pilgrimage, famed
for its healing virtues. No doubt the time to see Grand-Andely
is the 2nd and $rd of June, the vigil and feast of St. Clotilde.
But whether you elect to go then, or in a season less crowded,
it will be necessary to take some refreshment at the Hotel du
Grand-Cerf, a famous house of the sixteenth century, of which
you can see the principal room, with the panelled tambour that
leads out of it, and its great fireplace, high as the ceiling,
vigorously carved, and furnished with a collection of dogs and
other kitchen cattle. In the early years of the nineteenth century
a remarkable inn-keeper took this remarkable inn (which had
been built for the Sires du Viennois and did not become an
inn till 1749) : for forty years he laboured to fill it with every
kind of curiosity tapestries and china, iron-work, enamels,
rare prints, old pictures, and furniture. The place was a veritable
museum, and so well known that its visitors' book became one
of its greatest treasures. Victor Hugo's name was there, of
course, and that of Walter Scott lay hidden under the signature
of Gautier lEcossais.
The Seine near Vernon.
CHAPTER III
LOUVIERS, EVREUX, CONCHES, P.EAUMONT-LE-ROGER,
SERQUIGNY, P.ERNAY
THE shortest way to Kvreux is by the twenty-two mile road
through Gaillon ; but there remains only the shadow of the
once gorgeous Chateau de GaiHon, and it will be better to go
from Les Andelys to Louviers, which will make the journey to
Kvreiix half a dozen miles longer. The road starts through
the pretty woods of IJernicres peninsula, and we can see the
grand sweep of the; chalk hills around Chateau-Gaillard as we
go along. After a few miles we climb up a hill, where we can
sit under the cherry-trees at the top bend of the road and look
upon the whole splendid landscape spread out before us, the
castle still visible in the distance. Soon we shall drop down
into the sumptuous valley of the Eure where the roofs of
Louviers glitter in the sun. It is one of those small and
pleasantly situated industrial towns which form the paradise of
the factory hand ; not less pleasant is it to the traveller, as he
makes his way under the trees and over the streams and past the
CHAP, in LOUVIERS 43
two or three old streets that form the heart of Louviers to its
church of Notre-Dame.
Before us is the south aisle, a wonderful efflorescence of
stone which culminates in the porch. There Flamboyance
displays itself for all it is worth ; the porch projects well forward
on two piers and has remarkable gargoyles and pendants ; here
a monkey crawls and thistles flourish, and there a bat is carved
and a vine, with many other things. But before we enter, let
us go round the outside. At the east end are quite plain lancet
windows, and we can see that the nave as well belongs to the
thirteenth century. We need not linger to notice how oddly
classical the flying buttresses and pinnacles are, for the west
front has more to tell us. Its middle part belongs to the
thirteenth century, a pretty doorway on its south side is of the
fifteenth, and on the north a great rock-like tower with long,
powerful buttresses frowns down upon us like a fortress. This
indeed it is, and in this front is summed up the history of the
town.
Louviers was one of the places given to the Archbishop of
Rouen by Richard I. in exchange for the precious strategical
site of Andely. Thus it led for long a peaceful life, the
merchant thriving under the shadow of the church ; and though
the town was, as Froissart tells us, grosse et riche et moult mar-
chande, it was not thought necessary for two centuries to
surround it with walls. But during the Hundred Years War
(1346) the city was taken and pillaged by the English; and
the burghers had to learn the art of fortification. This also,
alas ! turned to their hurt, for in 1431 they defended them-
selves so well against the soldiers of Henry VI. that the English
became ruthless in victory and left nothing of the town but its
pillaged churches. Nine years later the English were finally
driven out of these parts.
Much of this history can be traced in the church. Begun
about 1 2 20 in the happy times of peace, its formidable belfry
was built in the years of fortification (c. 1366) that followed its
44 A GUILELESS JEW CHAP, in
first sack. After the second siege, the church was refurnished,
and then (1495), when Louviers had settled down again after
the civil war of the " Public Weal," the chapels were added and
the rest of the Flamboyant work.
The interior is unusual, and most impressive. The pierced
triforium, the clerestory, and the high lantern give it a character
of its own, and contrast with the low double aisles, which are
so different in their feeling of mystery to the high double aisles
of Gisors. In this imposing parish church we can realise the
originality of the Early French architects. The corbels of
the nave, too, are noticeable, and so are the piers with their
capitals.
There are many interesting things in the church. In the
south aisle is a painting of a big St. Christopher, and it is near
the principal entrance, because whoever saw the image of St.
Christopher was safe from peril through the rest of the day.
On one of the great piers of the crossing is a figure that holds
a soup basin. The people of Louviers were nicknamed mangeurs
de soupc, because in 1591 they let their city be taken by sur-
prise while they were at dinner. It was Marshal Biron who
captured the town ; he marched on it because the Parliament
(driven here from Rouen) was treating the Huguenots with
great cruelty. There is also some excellent glass. That of St.
Nicholas in the north aisle (which was given by the tanners,
and contains their arms, a golden scraper) presents the odd
legend of the Jew and the Peasant ; it is entirely miraculous,
for it tells how a simple-minded Jew was outwitted by a crafty
peasant. This is the story : A peasant, having long since
borrowed money from a Jew, and being summoned before the
judge, offered to swear that he had already repaid the sum.
He got the Jew to hold his staff, and then swore that he had
returned to his creditor more than he had ever received. Now
this was a very lying truth, for the staff which the Jew so
innocently held was hollowed out, and within the hollow was
the money hidden. The debtor won his case, and walked
The Porch, Lonviers.
4 6 EVREUX CHAP.
merrily away, stick in hand. But he did not escape the justice
of heaven. As he lay down to rest by a cross-road, he was
killed by a cart which passed over his body and crushed also
the hollow staff, scattering its contents on the ground. The
good Jew was so touched by this terrible judgment that he
refused to take the money (as I have said, the story is full of
miracle) ; but, on being pressed, the Israelite consented to take
back his due on one condition, that the dead man should be
brought to life again. This was easily accomplished by the
power of St. Nicholas ; whereat last miracle of all the Jew
was baptized.
Evreux is a pleasant little town, flanked by a forest, sur-
rounded by hills, and full of soldiers and clergymen. There
always seems to be brightness and life in the Hotel du Grand-
Cerf, and I daresay in other hotels as well. The beautiful
river Iton branches out among the houses, to form many of
those pretty corners which are more common in France than
in England ; and on some parts of its course may be found
fragments of the wall which was built during the Roman
occupation. Several of the Roman treasures have been dis-
covered and placed in the Museum, chief among them a bronze
statue of Jupiter Stator.
If we come to Evreux for one thing, it is certainly the
Cathedral, which is worth coming a very long way to see.
But, were the Cathedral burnt down to-morrow, the belfry
would still be sufficient cause for a pilgrimage ; and were the
belfry utterly destroyed or restored, there would yet remain
the Bishop's Palace and St. Taurin.
I remember once, when I was staying some thirty miles from
Evreiix, puzzling over the guide-books to find out whether it
was worth while riding over to see it. They gave me a tepid
impression, and I did not go. Yet there are few churches in
France more beautiful than Evreux Cathedral. In it you will
find three special things to study : the eastern part of the
interior where you can see Gothic in the most perfect and
in THE BELFRY 47
logical stage of its development, set off by lovely glass ; the
wonderful series of wooden screens which extend all round the
church ; and the classical west front, which it has been the
fashion to abuse because it is not covered with stone cauli-
flowers.
Yet, as I have a reason for approaching the Cathedral a
certain way, we will go to the Place de la Mairie first of all,
and look at the belfry. It stands there, not so very tall, but
noble and well-proportioned, with a certain air of strong self-
sufficiency. Like those grander belfries further north which
tell of the independence of the burghers of Flanders, it is the
symbol of liberty and of order. When a city could build such
a tower as this, it meant that the people had arrived at a
higher state of civilisation than the Feudal castle could give.
The Evreux belfry, far finer than that at Rouen, was built in
place of an older one in 1490. An arch runs through its
square base, on which an octagonal tower stands with two sides
flush to the square ; it is this plan that gives it so firm and neat
a look as we see it from the front, but from the other points
the stair-turret at the back comes into view, altering its appear-
ance a good deal. An excellent cornice with conspicuous
mouldings completes the stone part of the tower, and on it
rests the open gallery and airy spire, flanked by dainty spindle
buttresses and pinnacles with a swarm of vanes. Within this
wooden framework swings the great bell, and smaller bells
hang outside. You feel as soon as you see the tower that it
was all built for this bell, which is, as a matter of fact, eighty-
four years older than the tower itself. Height was needed to
allow the sound full play, and to give a wide view to the
watchman who scanned the country round, and from hour to
hour announced that all was quiet, or rang, if need were, the
great bell to call the burgher soldiers to the ramparts. And
strength was needed, too, for the rough times that the ancient
town had so often to endure. There are plenty of bullet marks
in the stone to remind us of one of the latest of those struggles
48 THE CATHEDRAL CHAP
when Evreux was besieged for nearly a year during the
Fronde.
Here, too, sounded the hour bell, the curfew, the festival
bourdon, and the tocsin of fire. In the notes that vibrated
through the stone walls lay all the history of the town, its
common daily life, its joys, its tragedies.
The street of the belfry, the Rue de 1'Horloge, takes us up
to where the north transept of the Cathedral lies under the
dear, crazy old spire of leaded wood. Look well at this
transept : it is triumphant Gothic in all the boundless profu-
sion of its pride. Bishop Ambroise le Veneur built it about
the year 1515.
Did any one realise, as he watched the masons performing
their miracles in stone, that the force of Gothic could no farther
go, that this triumph was a veritable Trionfo delta Morte ?
Go now to the west front. The nephew and successor of
Ambroise, Gabriel Le Veneur built it only thirty years after
the north transept was finished. The Middle Age, which
seemed almost to have conquered the law of gravitation in its
soaring audacity, has entirely passed away : its art is in thirty
years so utterly forgotten that the records of centuries have
been wiped out as if in shame. The children of Clovis, in art
at least, have set themselves again to burn what they had
adored and to adore what they had burnt.
There is so much of this classical work in France that we
English travellers soon cease to treat it with surprise. But
generally it is tentative and playful in its first stages, over-
lapping with the old method, as at Gisors. Here only among
French cathedrals we have a complete Renaissance facade ;
and here the break with the old is as sudden as a fault
in the earth's strata.
It was begun thus, c. 1545, about the end of Francois
Premier's reign. At Gisors we saw how that reign was the era
of a free and capricious classicalism, very Gothic in its
spirit ; here at Evreux the Flamboyant north transept was being
Ill THE WEST FRONT 49
built during the same period. Classicalism appears later, and
in the solemn guise that marks the reign of Henri Deux. For
it is from the monarchs and not from the people that the
names of the styles are now obtained ; such is the haughty
pomp of the Renaissance, kingly and cold, as it continues
down to the Revolution, surviving even that upheaval in the
mimicry of Greek simplicity which has the name of " Empire."
So it was, then, that in the time of Henri II. they began to
encase the old Norman west towers in a covering of classicalism.
Each story of the southern tower is an order; first Doric,
then Ionic, Corinthian, Composite, and an unfluted Ionic to
finish with. Above is a quaint spire with a gallery and
abat-sons. Then, when Henri IV. was raising the Bourbon
dynasty out of the chaos of the religious wars, and just about
the time of his first and most glorious victory (1590) at Ivry,
which is quite close to Evreux, they built the doorway with
its elegant shafts, and the rose-window where straight lines
and circles are so curiously worked into a design that is in
essence Gothic still. Later, in 1608, two years before Henri IV.
was assassinated, the north tower (called le Gros-Pierre) was
begun. It was finished about 1630; and thus belongs to what
is called the Louis Treize style. It is coarser than what has
gone before, and its orders have those great bands which
mark a decline in the sense of structural fitness; but its
cupola is stately and interesting.
The rest of the exterior has been ruined by an idiotic re-
storation which destroyed the fourteenth century flying buttresses
to replace them by an incorrect imitation of the style of a hundred
years earlier, in order to secure uniformity !
Within the church, we have before us, as I have said, an
almost perfect example of Gothic at the highest point of its
development. For me to expatiate on the lightness and purity
of this lofty nave and choir will not help you to see it, as you
must for yourself. The old church was burnt in 1119 by
Henry I. To the first rebuilding (c. 1125) belong the pier
5 o KINGS AND PEERS CHAP.
arches : the triforium brings us to the middle of the thirteenth
century (c. 1240); for the place had been ruined again in the
wars of Philippe Auguste : the choir was built between 1298
and 1310, and belongs therefore to the Decorated period, with
the exception of the triforium, which was rehandled in the
fifteenth century. This triforium has a slight arcade before
it, as if to emphasise its transparency, and is, as I have said,
one of the best examples in France : its effect is enhanced by
the beautiful glass, in which, among other figures, can be
traced (in the fourth bay, north side) that of Charles le
Mauvais, the King of Navarre, whose possession of Evreux
brought such ruin upon the city. The effect of these windows,
and of those of the chapels, can be well seen as you walk
along the south choir aisle ; here, too, you can note the high
vaulting of aisles and choir, and the inward slope of the two
first bays.
The Lady Chapel (like the south transept) belongs to the
time of Louis XI. (1465), who was a great devotee of the
Blessed Virgin. The work here becomes very free, and the
shafts are mere swellings in the wall. But how lovely is the
whole effect, and how exquisite those little figures of knights
and angels in the fleurs-de-lys that form the tracery of the
windows ! On the south are knights in blue, on the north are
knights in white ; they represent the peers of France who took
part in the coronation of Louis, and some have copes and
mitres over their armour. Every petal of these flowers is like
a gem, and the chapel is worthy of them.
If you stand now under the lofty lantern, which is lighted
by two tiers of big windows and rests upon squinches, you can
see the latest Gothic of all, the inside of that north transept
which we saw as we came from the belfry. Its rose window is
indeed like some great legendary rose of many-coloured petals :
but the transept is incomplete ; its empty niches leave a bare
band of stone across the wall, and a hideous door blocks the
space beneath.
in THE SCREENS 51
The third thing which makes the cathedral of Evreux worth
% pilgrimage is the beauty of its screens. They form so rare a
collection of carved woodwork that you should study them one
by one. Each chapel is enclosed, all round the church, by
these screens, which are all of the same height, and yet hardly
any are quite alike. On the south aisle of the nave we may
notice the screen which shuts off the chapel of St. Anne, with
its oak wreath, and the contrast of the heavy, severe one next
to it ; further west, two dainty angels draw our attention. Let
us now go to the north side and begin with the first screen,
going from west to east ; for we shall appreciate them best
if we take special note of a feature here and there. The
first, then, has colonnettes with very delicate carving, and a
Madonna in the medallion over the door ; 2 has arabesques
on its columns and open tracery in its panels ; 3 is severe,
with fluted columns ; 4 is marked by "its Gothic trefoils and
narrow arches ; 5 has well-proportioned balusters. We are
now before the superb elaboration of the screen across the
ambulatory, with its wreaths, and its telling decorative devices
of a monstrance and a star.
Continuing in the north ambulatory, we find first a graceful
Ionic arcade ; at 2 we are back in Gothic times to revel in
flame-like tracery, with open panels and charming little figures,
and with beasts upon the lower portion ; to this, 3 is a foil
of Grecian restraint, and the next few are repetitions of its
motive ; 6 has classical columns and Gothic tracery ; it is
ornamented with teeming grotesques ; on the panels are
figures playing the horn and bagpipe, and Faith, Charity,
Hope, Justice, Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, with their
attributes.
That before the Lady Chapel alone of the lateral screens
has a cresting, which admirably suits its position ; it has the
flame-like tracery which we have already seen, especially over
its door. Continuing round the ambulatory, now on the
south, i has little figures like those on the other side, heads
E 2
52 THE BISHOP'S PALACE CHAP.
beneath, carved moulding round the door, beasts on the
finial ; 2 was built by one of the Postel family, and their arms,
a posteau with three trefoils, are on either side of a sculpture of
Samson carrying off the posteaux of Gaza gate, whence an
indignant Philistine looks out at him ; the whole is given a
sumptuous air by its big medallions containing heads very
characteristic of the period ; 3 is like i, but with plenty of
minor variations ; 4 has the tapering balusters of the Postel
screen, but in simpler form, and it has also a coloured relief
of the Visitation over the door ; 5 is a most interesting
Treasury ; an elaborately carved cupboard of marked originality,
with locks and iron grilles, is enclosed, above as well as in
front, by iron bars of great strength and simplicity ; in front
there projects a kind of counter, with slots for money, and
over this is a wicket. The locks are beautiful ironwork, and
contrast well with the solid wood and strong bars.
After all this we have hardly eyes left for the rood screen,
and the parclose screens of the choir, which are yet particularly
fine and flowing ironwork of the eighteenth century.
I had almost forgotten to mention the Bishop's Palace, a very
fine example of late fifteenth century domestic architecture. You
cannot go over it, but you can go through the door that is near the
west front of the Cathedral, and peep in through the courtyard ;
and, better still, you can walk behind it along the Boulevard de
Chambaudoin and look at its fortified side, and at the ample
city moat which was the cause of that fortification.
The ancient Benedictine Abbey of St. Taurin grew up round
the relics of the Saint, which were discovered in the seventh
century by St. Landulphe, then Bishop of Evreux. The
medieval abbey buildings are gone, and a clerical seminary
now stands where once the Benedictines had a famous school.
I5ut the Church of St. Taurin remains; and if we walk straight
up to its elegant choir (c. 1420), we can read the story of
the saint in old painted glass. It is told in the three central
lights ; some modern glass has been inserted in the neigh-
in THE LEGEND OF SAINT-TAURIN 53
bouring windows, in order that we may see how good the
old is. At the top of the southern window Landulphe prays
for guidance, and in the next compartment he disinters the
body of St. Taurin. In the central light at the lowest
division the legend of Taurin begins ; an angel announces
his birth, touching his mother with a stick which blossoms
into a lily ; next is the baptism of Taurin by St. Clement
and St. Denys ; above the baptism he is seen walking behind
Bishop Denys to help him in the conversion of the Gauls ;
next is his consecration as first Bishop of Evreux ; in the two
top compartments are two events which come later in the
history. In the northern window at the bottom we take up
the story again ; the saint is releasing the daughter of Lucius,
his host, from a wiry red devil, who has made her throw
herself into the fire ; the result is shown in the next division
and the one above it where Taurin is baptizing a large
number of converts. Why the artist did not arrange his scenes
in chronological sequence, I do not know, but we have now
to go back to the top left-hand division of the central light
for the next incident, the attack on the Temple of Diana ;
Taurin, encouraged by his successes, goes to the temple, asks
the people if they would like to see their god, and calls upon
the demon to come forth from the idol ; he does so, and we
can make out his black form, and an angel driving him forth.
The priests of Diana were naturally indignant, and the result
we see distinctly in the southern window, where the saint is
being scourged. Next to this is the wife of Lucius, who is
in bonds for the crime of being a Christian, but behind her
a servant tells Lucius of the death of his son. In the middle
left-hand compartment of the northern window I think I see
the continuation of the story ; for Taurin converted Lucius
by restoring his son to life. In the compartment above the
baptisms in this northern window an angel tells the saint of
his approaching death, and in the next the saint dies, and
his soul is carried up by angels. In the top right-hand
54 HIS RELIQUARY AND CHURCH CHAP.
division of the central light is his burial, when he rose up in
the tomb to bid farewell to his flock. There are two other
old windows in this choir, that on the south representing the
Assumption.
All this we are free to examine for ourselves if we go
reverently into the choir. But to " see the great chasse or
reliquary of St. Taurin we must get hold of the sacristan.
It is kept in the excellent panelled sacristy, and is a triumph
of twelfth century work the best, it is said, in France. It is of
silver gilt, but has gone through trouble, and the gems that
now adorn it are magnificent, but they are not gems. At the
Revolution it was thrown into a barn, with the result that the
central fmial and the other pine-cones that adorn it and the
smaller statuettes are modern work of the 'thirties. Still
it is almost unspoilt ; the cloisonne' enamel has survived ;
the pinnacles, the intricate ornamentation, the principal
figures are intact, and excellent goldsmiths' work they
are. The figure of the saint, whose relics are within, is in the
middle panel, and gives a better idea of how a medieval bishop
was dressed than we can generally get. On the right is a fresh
incident from the saint's legend, how he was met by the fiend
at the gate of Evreux when he came to preach there, and on
the right lie is represented triumphantly preaching.
If you have gone very quickly to read the story of St. Taurin,
you may not have noticed what extraordinary tricks the monks
of the Renaissance played with their twelfth century church.
There are the manifest Norman arches ; and there, sure
enough, is a Norman triforium on the south side of the nave,
unmistakable, irrepressible, although some restless genius has
neatly carved cupids' heads on the sober little capitals, and has
patched, but not at all neatly, a small classical arcade along the
lower part of the gallery. And the vault does not fit anywhere ;
and having partly reshaped the southern wall, they cut out
great swollen corbels and covered them with ugly grotesques.
And then a queer cornice has been attempted on the last pier ;
Ill
CONCHES
55
and in the transepts is a similar jumble, with a curious gallery
that skips round the corners of the south transept, where three
gorgeous prelates reign in the stained glass. So did the severity
of the earlier monks give place to license even in stone. And
thus we leave St. Taurin where they did their good work, went
through their decadence, and then departed.
We leave Evreux by the wooded valley of the Iton, and after
a ride of nine miles arrive at Conches, stranded high and dry
fvcu
Fortified farm near Conches.
from the Middle Ages on its own hillock, with its own
church, and ruined castle, and municipal park, and hotel-de-
ville. It is fast asleep in the mid-day sun ; and we may walk
right into the chancel of St. Foy's church without meeting a
soul.
Although the fanciful have imagined that Conches owes its
name to the shell-like disposition of the hills that surround it, a
town in Spain called Conques seems really to have been its
original. In the early part of the eleventh century Roger I.,
the lord of Douville (as this place was then called), went to fight
the Moors in Spain. There he heard of Saint Foy, a child
saint of the fourth century, whose tomb at Conques was the
scene of many miracles and much pilgrimage. He brought
back some of St. Foy's relics, built over them a church in her
56 THE CHURCH OF ST. FOY
CHAP.
honour, changed the name of the town to Conches, and gave
it three shells for escutcheon.
More than a century later, Roger III. built the castle. The
mortar was scarcely hard before Philippe Auguste, who was
just then avenging himself on Richard I, laid siege to it :
" Doncques Auguste" says an old writer, "tout transporte de
colere et plein de mauvaises volontez, porte tout incontinent ses
armes contre le chateau de Conches, et le prit aprh quelques
attaques"
It was at the end of the fifteenth century that the adventurous
Roger's church was rebuilt ; a hundred years later it was still
being adorned and enlarged, when the Leaguers put a stop to
all such pleasant things at the siege of 1590. The last mis-
fortune of Conches happened in 1842, when ti\efleche had been in
the restorer's hands for a year : just as the scaffolding was ready
to be cleared away, a terrific storm brought spire and scaffold
crashing to the ground ; it tore up the roof, smashed pin-
nacles and buttresses, and destroyed a house that stood against
the church.
And now that we are in the church, you can see at once that we
have come there for the painted glass. There it is, unmistakable
in the choir, a superb enamel of colour, and there it is, too, on
either side of us as we go up through the nave. The glass is
indeed so good that we will take superlatives for granted,
and show our respect by following its meaning, which is indeed
of exceptional interest. It is very intellectual glass.
Let us leave the choir for a moment to remain for us a mere
mass of colour, and follow the windows on either side. They deal
with two subjects, the Blessed Virgin on the north and the
Holy Eucharist on the south side. We will take first the Lady
Chapel, where the weak frivolity of the modern ornaments is in
such piteous contrast to the restrained intensity of feeling in the
beautiful allegory of the glass. It represents Mary as the helper
of mankind : in the centre she sits in quiet dignity with her
Child ; below her is the ecclesiastical hierarchy, flanked by
in MYSTICAL GLASS 57
groups of men and of women, all imploring her protection ; in the
tracery are the disasters from which men pray to be delivered,
an imperilled ship in the uppermost light, then war, fire, sickness.
In the next window is the Nativity, and I mark specially a little
picture of the Annunciation in the upper light with a red-
winged Gabriel in a drifting purple robe. In the next window,
of noticeable white and blue, our Lady stands surrounded by
her attributes, Hortus Indusus, the Garden enclosed, Civitas
Dei and the rest. The next, the Annunciation, has been re-
stored. The fifth window, dated 1553, is a Triumph of the
Virgin : she comes in a chariot from the " Palais Virginal "
towards the " Temple d'Honneur " : under her chariot wheels is
a monster, Vice ; at its side are captive ladies and a bound
cupid ; in the crowd that precedes her we can distinguish the
cardinal and theological virtues (the jug of Temperance and the
mirror of Prudence are conspicuous). In the " Palais de Jesse,"
that ancestor points her out to the twelve kings her sires, " et
leur dit" says the quaint inscription, " nobles roys, voyla de Dieu
rancelle" In the upper lights is the Apocalyptic vision of the
Woman and the Dragon. The Presentation comes next, with
everybody gesticulating like a picture by Rubens. And the
last (dated 1552) contains three figures sumptuous with gold;
our Lady herself in the midst, St. Adrian as a splendid young
squire on her right (he was a young Roman noble), and St.
Remain with the captive "gargoyle" (ch. XI) on her left.
The Eucharistic subjects on the south side begin with the
second window, the first (at the east end of the chapel) re-
presenting SS. Peter, Anthony, Michael, and Sebastian. The
second window symbolises the glory of the Sacrament : in
the midst of a triumphal arch our Lord is represented with
the Host ; in the four niches are the Evangelists, each with an
appropriate quotation from his gospel. The donors kneel, in
black velvet and brown sable. Next is the Last Supper ; at
the foot the donor is by a strange whim represented dead,
while his widow kneels with an open book and a rosary. How
5 8 THE STORY OF ST. FOY CHAP.
effective is her black dress, and how fine the big flowers-
daffodils, flags, and red anemones ! The fourth window gives
a stately allegory, the mystical Winepress : Christ is treading
out the grapes, and the donor, Jean le Tellier, conseiller du Roi^
is stretching out a cup for the wine as it runs into the vat.
Next is the Manna, type of the heavenly bread. The next is
new, replacing one that was destroyed when the spire fell.
The last does not belong to the series, and is more ancient
than the glass we have been studying, which all dates from the
middle of the sixteenth century.
We could not go away from Conches without studying
the seven windows of the choir ; for it gives us the history
of St. Faith or Foy, to whom the place owes its very name.
The upper half of these windows contains scenes from
the life of our Lord (copied in part from Diirer) which
are easily recognised. The lower half gives us the legend
of the patroness. It begins in the north light, and runs
from the middle downwards, as follows: (ist light) Birth of
St. Foy : she stands (in the yellow dress which distinguishes
her) at school before the master : she preaches to the people.
(2nd) The proconsul Dacian tries to turn her to paganism, but
her mother points heavenward : she refuses to sacrifice to the
gods, and in the background she is scourged. (3rd) She is
tortured ; at her prayer the temple falls upon the idolaters
(below this is a beautiful St. Louis). (Centre light) She is
burnt on a gridiron, a dove brings her a heavenly crown, St.
Caprais or Caprasius confesses his faith at the sight of her
constancy ; she is in a cauldron. (South side, 5th light) She
refuses again to sacrifice ; St. Caprais is tortured ; her head is
struck off an imposing picture (under it are St. Michael and
St. Bernard before our Lady). (6th) Her mother (in a blue
dress) looks at her body ; her body is tied up in a shroud ; in
the background cripples are coming up to be healed. (7th) Her
mother dies by her bier, and pilgrims pray round her reliquary.
Such is the legend that so touched the rough heart of the
Ill
CONCHES CASTLE
59
lord of Conches in the eleventh century. The Norman con-
querors soon brought the story of St. Faith into England ; her
name remains in the Prayer Book calendar, and English
churches are still dedicated in her honour.
From the terrace on the south of the church we can look up
at the cresting of the chancel roof, which is its particular
Conches.
beauty ; and, leaning over the old stone parapet, which seems
to have come here from the top of some church wall, we can
look at the green valley that lies so peacefully among its hills.
On our right, a short lane will take us past a garden of holly-
hocks to a little public garden where the small donjon still
nods its battered old head over the town to which it once gave
the dignity of a title. It seems to be dreaming of the many
sieges it has endured and the many times it has changed its
occupants ; for English and French followed each other like
the scenes of a play during the Hundred Years War ; nor was
it till the Huguenots of Evreux came over in 1590 and took
it that it fell into decay, adding one more to the strong places
of medieval Normandy that have passed into the charge of
those last tenants, the owl and the ivy, which alone keep what
60 BEAUMONT-LE-ROGER CHAP.
they take and surrender to no foe. A short walk through the
beech hedges of a winding path leads us from the moat to the
keep with its torn mantle of turrets. All is so still in the
afternoon sun that the baying of a dog in the fields below is
almost startling. The days when these walls were terrible seem
so infinitely far off, and yet how slight are the changes of three
centuries ! The face of the country is the same, and men still
worship across there in the church of St. Foy as they did
before the Huguenots had ever broken up this solid monument
of civil strife.
The road that takes us over the twelve miles from Conches
to Beaumont-le-Roger is a byway, that is to say, it is not a
route departmentak, but it is none the less Men entretenue,
which is the great thing. It runs through cornfields, and one
refreshing wood, and down a long avenue of beech trees, whose
trunks are a deep blue in the light of a summer evening. A little
further on, we drop down a hill into the village of Beaumont-
le-Roger, one of the sweetest places in Normandy. It is
pleasanter, as it is certainly cheaper, to stay in little country
towns ; and if we stop here at the old-fashioned Hotel de Paris
(or elsewhere, for aught that I know) we shall be more com-
fortable than at many smart houses. This is just one of those
places where one could spend a whole summer holiday. It is
a good point, too, from which to visit Bee (ch. X).
Beaumont's great charm lies first in its position among the
woods and low-lying hills, on the bank of the Risle, whose
subordinates meander here and there among the houses,
and next in its picturesque aspect. Conches is no longer what
it was not many years ago ; but Beaumont is almost unspoilt.
It is precious. Alas ! that within a few years such places in
Normandy should have become, not only precious, but rare !
Its inhabitants are content to let it remain as it was in old
times ; and I think they must have learnt by now that they
were wise, for the contents of the shop-windows, and the flowery
gardens which one sees, show that well-to-do people like to
Ill
THE CHURCH
come and live about here. Also, there are two chemists' shops,
which is a sign. We may notice here, once and for all, how
superior are the French apothecaries' temples, with their circular
sweep of pretty little pillars, to our own sanctuaries of the flaring
bottle.
If you want to realise what a devilish thing restoration is,
sit outside a cafe, and imagine what the church of St. Nicholas
Beamnont-le-Roger.
would be like if it were restored. It has grown up quite natu-
rally to be what it is, irregular and unfinished, with an abortive
tower, and a huge chancel patched anyhow on to the russet
roof of the nave ; quaint houses, too, lean familiarly up against
it, which they oughtn't to do. But who could remove them
now, or break up the record of history with rule and plummet ?
There is the tower and the porch, their crockets like jets of
water, and there is the carved door which neglect has not
spoilt. And there, high up on the tower, is Regulus, of whom
the village is so proud. Regulus who, in spite of his martial
accoutrements, has naught to do but signal the passing hours.
And under him delightful touch ! an electric lamp lights up
62 COVETED BELLS CHAP.
the face of the clock. I think electric light is one of the few
modern inventions which the old dead artistic races would have
seized upon with joy.
There are now three bells in the tower, of which only one
(his name is Lazare) is ancient. There was once a fine peal
of seven, which rang out so joyfully when Henri IV. came to
Beaumont that the lusty monarch exclaimed, " O les jolies
cloches I J'aurais moult joye a les ouir chaque matin. I must
take them with me to Paris, my great town."
But the bells were saved by the presence of mind of one
citizen, who replied, "Sire, must we carry off for you also our
hills and our echoes of Beaumont ? Car sans iceux^ il rfy
auroit pas de sy belle sonnerie ! "
The King smiled, and spoke no more of transporting the bells.
But when the People became King at the Revolution, there
were no such scruples. Six of the bells were melted down to
make other music
" Vive le son
Du canon ! "
As we go up to the door we notice the disused dial of the
time of Henri II., and the incised slab which covered the tomb
of Jehan du Moustier, one of Charles le Mauvais' captains, but
not the founder of the church, as the modern inscription doth
falsely boast. Inside the church we notice that the restorer
has not yet come to sweep away the old pews and replace
them by those chairs which in France (even in the cathe-
drals) are as bad a tyranny of particularism as ever the
pc\v system was in England. Across the nave are stretched
queer arches, which add to the effect of height in the choir
behind, where classical architecture lays itself out so blithely
to do Gothic work, and gives us a free tracery in which even
the initials of the patron, St. Nicholas, find a place. The
people here are proud of their high choir, and, comparing it
with the ruined church of the suburb of Vieilles, and with
Beaumontel, a little further off, they say, " Avec le docker de
in HUNGRY MONKS 63
Beaumontel, la nefde Vieilles, et le choeur de Beaumont, onferait
une petite cathedrale" They might have added that with the
north chapel of Beaumont one could make a pagan temple ;
for there on the vault is a small pantheon, Diana (in spite of
all St. Taurin's efforts), and Ceres, and Chronos, and all the
deities of heathendom. One is bound to say, in defence, that
the inhabitants of Beaumont can only practice idolatry at the
cost of a severe crick in the neck.
A little farther west, passing the high-roofed brick house of
the Dues de Bouillon, we arrive at the gate of the Abbey,
which came to be to Beaumont what its fortress was to Conches.
There was, indeed, once a fortress here too. Roger de Vetulis
(of Vieilles), a great man in Norman times, whose son went over
with the Conqueror, built a castle on the top of the Beau Mont
from which he took, and to which he gave, his name. There
are still some traces of this castle on the hill, and a great fosse
which he dug for its protection. But the lords of Beaumont
came to be great folk in England, and it was to the abbey
which they founded that Beaumont owed its prosperity.
In 1250 we find the Archbishop of Rouen complaining on a
visitation that there should be twelve monks in the abbey,
while there were only nine ; also that the monks eat meat three
times a week, and were in the habit of talking to lay folk in the
cloisters. The Archbishop reminded them of their rules ; but
eight years later he found only five monks, and these eat meat
at least twice a week ; and so the monks continued, few in
number and carnivorous in their habits. Just three centuries
later, we discover the subject of food still engaging much atten-
tion, and now the Prior has only four monks under him : this
was in 1580, when the monks quarrelled about their rations,
and the Prior of Bee issued an arbitration. He allowed them
for dinner seven pounds of good beef, besides the piece de
mouton ordinaire. Seven pounds of beef, with mutton thrown
in, was not bad for " quatre relligieux" At supper they had to
content themselves with a leg of mutton roasted and a boiled
64 ABBEY SPELLS RUIN CHAP.
neck of mutton. Each day their allowance of bread was two
pounds and a half, with two large pots of wine. On feast days
pigeons and capons were thrown in. In Lent they fasted on
cod, salted salmon, and fresh fish ; and for supper they con-
fined themselves to ung hareng rosty avec un plat de pruneaux.
Perhaps the numbers would have kept up better under a
vegetarian regimen.
By the eighteenth century the four religious had been
replaced by two secular priests. At the beginning of the nine-
teenth the whole building woke up as a ribbon factory. In
1855 this factory was burnt down, and the church, which
had escaped the flames, was offered to the local authorities
for 7,000 francs, but these wretches refused the offer, and an
incredible person bought the church for building materials :
he was not stopped till the best part had been destroyed.
Why should such magnificent buildings go to ruin ? We in
England attribute it all to the Reformation ; but in France where
the Reformation failed, " abbey " is almost as synonymous
with " ruin " as in England. Monasticism in its palatial medieval
form is dead, there as here ; for the Revolution did in an
instant what two centuries before the Reformation failed to do.
There are indeed, still thousands of people in religious orders,
the Freres Chretiens, for instance, whom every traveller notices
by the white bands that distinguish them from the clergy :
they are a most devoted body of men, and their educational
work is astonishingly successful. The older orders, too, still
have power, and here in Normandy itself flourishes the remark-
able monastery of La Trappe, whose mystical and pure spirit has
so impressed M. Huysmans. Yet the old splendid abbeys are
empty, here as at home ; even the nuns, who do an enormous
amount of work, have given up stone for brick. Once they were
teeming with life, they seemed an essential part of a Christian
nation ; then in England they died a violent, and in France
almost a natural, death. Could nothing have been done with
the buildings they left ? Are there no classes of men, of poor
in SERQUIGNY 65
men at least, who would gladly have rested on such a peaceful
hill as this, ending their days in such a palace of common and
yet private life, not ungrateful either for the comfort of its
hallowed church ? It is too late now to do more than lament ;
for private greed and public stupidity have wasted much of
mankind's best work, here as in England.
The ruins of the Abbaye de Beaumont are too piteous, too
disfigured, almost, for a visit. It is the entrance where the road
branches up under the gateway into a splendid gallery that
once was vaulted, it is this that we have mainly come to see ;
and the great wall along the road-side where ancient black and
white houses nestle so prettily between the huge buttresses. Here
again, it is all so picturesque because it is so natural : the site
had to be arranged in terraces, and the gateway could only
give convenient admittance by being alongside the road.
An orchard occupies the ground where most of the monastic
buildings stood : on its left is an elaborate series of caves cut
in the chalk and faced with stone arches ; in the first of them is
a well. The exigences of space allowed the church only a
partial orientation, and its direction is SSE. Its ruins lie amid
a tangle of undergrowth, and a fragment of brick chimney along
its naked gable alone proclaims the factory of ribbons.
The road by the Abbey takes us in a few minutes to Beau-
montel, which has a distinguished tower with a dumpy crocketed
stone spire and a modern St. Peter in lead on top, all of which
we can see from the road. There is nothing much within the
church. At Serquigny we leave the Risle to follow the
Charentonne ; and here, at Serquigny church, we pass a
Norman doorway, chevronned and billeted as befits it.
Within, if you have time and do not believe me, there is a
cartouche of Diana hunting in the north chapel. The waggon
roof is good, but you will see better at Bernay ; and we have
had such a feast of painted glass that perhaps you have no
appetite for the three sixteenth century windows, the Cruci-
fixion with the Emperor Henry and Margaret, the Three Maries,
F
66
BERNAY
CHAP.
and the Resurrection, the appearance to the Magdalen and the
Ascension.
All the twelve miles from Beaumont to Bernay are ideal
riding, by clear rivers, past many flourishing water-mills, and
between hedges where the wild marjoram and angelica flourish,
Beaumont-le-Rogcr: Entrance to the Abbey.
while now and again hidden meadow-sweet throws up gusts of
scent.
Bernay lies in the midst of all this country, and if there were
a garden where the Gare is, it might be worthy of its surround-
ings. But somehow it manages to be a slightly depressing
place, even down to its people and its sad hotels ; so it may be
best to run on for another twenty miles to Lisieux for the night.
It is pleasant riding in these summer evenings, and without
being guilty overmuch of tourism (if I may be allowed the
word), you can, I think, see the three churches in about an
hour. They will fall to you in this order : first, in the High
Street, Ste. Croix on your left, then turning to your left by the
in SAINTE-CROIX 67
H6tel-de-Ville to the old Abbey Church, then across the
railway by the station for a quarter of a mile to Notre-
Dame de la Couture. There are also old houses at Bernay ;
but are we not on the road to Lisieux, the paradise of old
houses ?
Ste. Croix impresses one first and last by its broad and
open proportions, especially at the crossing, which is in exact
contrast with the high and narrow tower of Evreux. This
feature is well set off by the fine waggon ceiling that is char-
acteristic of the churches of Bernay and of Serquigny. Folk
who are interested in architecture will also notice the plain
moulded caps at the crossing, which are distinctly English in
character, while those on the windows of the north aisle of the
nave are made up of a series of mouldings as if they had been
turned on the lathe, which suggests that the mason was copy-
ing the English method from memory. I suppose what most
people notice in Ste. Croix is the carved Nativity over the
altar j it looks at first sight as if it were all in marble, but
only the figure of the Holy Child is in this material, that of St.
Joseph is in wood, that of Mary in terra-cotta. People rave
about the little marble figure, quite unnecessarily in my
opinion. The whole group is immensely inappropriate to its
position. The semicircular range of columns that holds a sort
of stone crown over the long altar is of interest as coming from
the abbey of Bee; its date is 1683. The wooden Rood and
the two statues of St. Benedict and St. Maur (the reformer of
the Benedictine order in the seventeenth century) are also from
Bee, where they all belonged to the rood-loft. So are the
incised slabs of various abbots of Bee, one of which has been
restored in colour, not very correctly. But the best things
here are the large stone statues of the apostles and evangelists,
which are fourteenth century work. They are stern, imposing,
and full of character.
The abbey of Bernay, which was founded by Judith, the
Conqueror's grandmother, in 1013, was fortified from early
F 2
68 BERNAY ABBEY CHAP.
times. In 1343 it passed into the hands of Charles le Mauvais,
who built a new fortress within the monastic enclosure. A
little later Charles's secretary, Du Tertre, was besieged here
by the royal army. The siege went on through Holy Week ;
on Good Friday it was suspended ; at sunrise on Holy Saturday
the engines got to work again, and Easter Day closed amid
the shock of assault. On Easter Monday Du Tertre left the
fortress to arrange terms of capitulation ; he had told his wife
to burn all his correspondence with Charles, but the lady was
accidentally shut out, and when the royal army entered the
fortress they discovered all the letters and the key to the
cipher in which they were written. In the sixteenth century
the Huguenots under Coligny took Bernay, sacked the town,
slaughtered some of the clergy, and burnt the abbey. But the
church survived everything till the advent of the fatal nine-
teenth century, when it became what it is. Freeman tells us
that in 1861 he talked with one who remembered it in the
full extent of its choir and Lady Chapel ; thirty years after
he discovered that a Roman shaft (one of the very few north
of the Loire) had disappeared, and one later, but still early,
capital had been knocked away to make a convenient resting
place for a wooden beam.
The casual visitor may not be much struck by this abbey
church, or what remains visible of it, but to the antiquary it
is most valuable as an example of exceedingly early Norman
work ; for the nave dates from between 1014 and 1040. If
it were only used as a Halle au Ble, we should be able also to
sec the choir and transepts, which belong to the second half
of the eleventh century ; but its eastern part is cut up into
sheds and shops and living-rooms, and a woman who was
picturesquely carding wool in the middle of the nave told me
that the barn-like structure in the choir is a salle de musique.
Nor did the later ecclesiastical occupants show much more
appreciation of its historical value. They carved cupids and
festoons on its Romanesque capitals in a manner well calcu-
in EARLY ROMANESQUE 69
lated to deceive the unwary. In the lower part of these
capitals can be seen the Norman work, and in one there are
two rows of elaborate Norman sculpture below the classical.
The curious thing is that the Norman ornament is itself a
later addition ; thus we have the story of three periods in the
piers, two races of decorators setting themselves to bring the
primitive work up to date, and both working in a form of
Roman art, the one before the advent of the Gothic style,
the other after its disappearance. A similar thing has
happened in the aisles, where the vaulting has often been
mistaken for Norman work and yet really belongs to the
seventeenth, or at the very earliest to the sixteenth century.
The spacious severity of the original building comes home to
us in the high pier-arches of the nave. Yet even here, even
in the piers themselves, one has to distinguish, as I have said,
between the early and later work ; the simple square piers do
indeed belong to the precious years 1015 -1040, but the half-
columns were added to them some fifty years later, and so of
course were the round archivolts which they support. These
additions have no structural value, and it seems a pity that
the men of the second half of the eleventh century were not
content with building the tower, transepts, and choir. The
upper parts of the nave, again, are early twelfth century. The
triforium arcades that were grouped over each arch have
been walled up, but the shallow recesses between them remain,
and are unique in that they are set immediately over the
piers and thus weaken the wall (if anything can be said to
weaken a Romanesque wall) at the point where it needs most
strength. The north side was rehandled in the fifteenth century.
Part of the abbey buildings (c. 1690) are now the H6tel-de-
Ville, and the abbot's house has become a museum.
Tradition tells that some shepherds long ago, before even
the abbey was built, noticed a sheep scratching in the ground
outside Bernay, and following up the animal's investigation
discovered a statue of the Blessed Virgin. Thereupon a chapel
70 NOTRE-DAME DE LA COUTURE CHAP.
arose, and a hermit came to live there, and ever since the place
Notre-Dame de la Couture has been frequented by pilgrims.
From these good pilgrims the church has suffered artistically
within ; but outside it is a fine building. Notice especially the
spire of the western tower, with its four pinnacles, the oriels on
its gaping abat-sons^ and the pretty leaden decoration of its
finial, and also the minaret-like stair turret on the north of
the facade with its saucy covering.
There is a vaulted passage under the choir, where, in utter
darkness, stands a little image of our Lady which (in spite of
the obvious anachronism of its style) is popularly thought to
I)L* that which the sheep discovered. The church is entered
from the west down a flight of steps ; another peculiarity is its
broad transepts, which were so made by roofs being spread over
them large enough to include their lateral chapels ; the partition
walls thus left were at the restoration replaced by arcades.
Forty-six out of the sixty-four choir stalls are by the du Moulin,
two carpenters of Bernay, the father and brother of Gabriel du
Moulin who was the seventeenth century historian of Normandy.
The scutcheons on these stalls show that they were not for
the clergy only, but for gentle-folk and burgesses as well, like
so many old-fashioned choirs in England, though the arrange-
ment was never common in France. There is some old glass,
the most curious being that over the high altar which illustrates
the Prayer of St. Augustine Snncta Maria succurre miseris
jiiTa pusillanimes, refove flcbiles. The Bishop of Lisieux is
presenting poor folk and cripples to the Virgin, who sits in the
midst ; on the other side, the figures illustrate the remaining
petitions Ora pro populo, which is twice repeated, as is also
intervcul pro clcro, pro ckro, under figures of a cardinal, a
pope, a bishop, and doctors, while beyond are figures of women
with intercede pro devoio femineo sexu. In a chapel on the
south of the choir there is an unmistakable Apollo disguised
as St. Sebastian, the saint who gave to the great Italian painters
their opportunity for treating the nude figure of a youth.
Ill
TOWARDS LISIEUX
From Bernay we come in a few miles on to a real highway,
an unmistakable Route Nationale, with its rows of trees, and
its unflinching straightness, broken only by the dear little
village of Thiberville, which, being already in possession, I
suppose, had to be considered when the military road was made.
Thiberville.
Fnlaise Castle.
CHAPTER IV
LISIEUX, ST. PIERRE-SUR-DIVES, FALAISE, ARGENTAN, ECOUCHE\
RANES, LA FERTE-MACE, BAGNOLES.
LISIEUX, prosperous and pretty, full of ancient houses and
modern factories, has a long history. In the time of Julius
Caesar it was a walled city, and the tribe of the Lexovii are
several times mentioned by him. It was destroyed by the
barbarians in the fourth century, but in the sixth we find it one
of the most flourishing towns of Neustria, and the seat of a
bishopric. The worst siege it ever had to endure was in 1135
when Geoffrey Plantagenet laid siege to it, and so horrible
was the famine that human flesh was publicly sold in the
Lieuvin. To drive back the enemy, Alain de Dinan, who
commanded the garrison, burnt down the city and the cathedral
with it. Thus it was that, when peace was secured, the present
church was commenced. Since the Concordat at the end of
the last century, it has ceased to be a cathedral see, and is now
only known as the Church of St. Pierre. But the change in
its status has not lessened its real dignity, and it remains
worthy of great honour as (with Sens) the first Gothic church
that was built in France.
CHAP, iv NORMAN PEASANTRY 73
Outside it the Place Thiers is thronged with country folk of
a Saturday, when the weekly market is held. We realise, per-
haps for the first time, that we are indeed in Normandy, so
different are these people to the genuine Frenchmen, who seem
to have swamped the Norman race in the eastern parts of the
province. Here we feel at home among our kinsfolk, men of
no Latin race, but the peaceable descendants of fair-haired
Scandinavian pirates. A little further north, or east, we
find the people with open faces, very talkative j here they are
silent, using Monsieur and Madame much less than we are
used to, and so giving an impression at first of rudeness ; they
are robust, often fair, with la tete caree and a shrewd eye. The
very fashions of the older men, with their side whiskers and
odd black peaked caps, give them the look of an English
country parson out for a holiday. The women, perhaps, are
more French-looking, some of them have driven long distances
with no covering for their heads but their hair brushed smoothly
back from their foreheads, others wear a sort of turban sugges-
tive of the undress covering that men wore in the era of wigs,
others have a tight kind of nightcap, while the smarter ones
set off their brown faces with a frilled cap and strings. And
thus they do their business in the crowded market place, with
chicken and rabbits and vegetables and fruit, peasants selling
their own'produce, not farmers dealing in the labour of others.
It is remarkable as we travel among the small fields of
Normandy to notice the comparative absence of mechanical
implements. These rivals of ours who beat us in our own
market do so with the simplest tools, for ownership is more
potent than machinery. They often cut the corn by hand in
the old way, since they cannot afford costly implements for
their small strips of land ; yet there is no " agricultural
problem " for these shrewd, thrifty, and laborious peasant
proprietors.
From this busy centre of country life we can look up at
the towers of St. Pierre. That on the north, with the long
74 THE FIRST GOTHIC CHAP, iv
belfry windows, belongs to the original scheme ; that on the
south is of rough sixteenth century work, and its spire with
such strange pinnacles is of the seventeenth century. As we
get nearer, we see that the central doorway has been mutilated
and the window over it altered, while the side porches are
exceedingly graceful and original through all the hardness
which some restorer has lent them.
Within, we have before us a remarkable example of the
beginnings of Gothic : if we put on one side the chapels, all
that we see was built between 1143 and 1215, and is either
Transitional or Early French, belonging to one or other of the
stages of the first style of Gothic. To be more exact : the
nave, transepts, and part of the choir were built during the
forty years' episcopate of Bishop Arnulf (1143 1182), and are
therefore Transitional ; but the clerestory was added later,
probably by Bishop Jordan (1197 1214), who also built the
eastern part of the choir, with its apse. We have thus a unity
of effect that is none too common ; the sober massive pillars
are the same all over the church, some of their capitals are of
what I may call the artichoke description, some retain still the
acanthus leaves which so many centuries had consecrated to
architectural use. The simple round moulding of the period
abounds everywhere ; and, as we sit and look across the
transepts at the same unvaried moulding that fits itself into
such variety of lines and curves, and strikes so full a note of
harmony with the slender shafts, we may ask ourselves whether
the decline of Gothic art did not begin when that moulding was
dropped. There is certainly enough variety here within the
unity of the style ; for the transepts are strangely dissimilar,
even the lancets differ in north and south, and the triforium
arches are at varying levels and of diverse designs mere sug-
gestions and not galleries. The lantern above our heads is a
little later and more finished ; the apse shows clearly what the
architects had learnt in thirty years ; its piers are double, one
behind another, so as to look as light as possible from the
Lisieux.
76 ST. PIERRE AS IT WAS CHAP.
west, its vaulting-shafts are slender, and its vault leaves deep
and narrow spaces that are full of shadow.
The Lady Chapel is said to have been built by Cauchon, the
infamous bishop (first of Beauvais, then of Lisieux) who pre-
sided at the condemnation of Jeanne d'Arc. It in no way
reflects his character ; indeed, if it has a fault at all, that fault
lies in a certain upright austerity.
To imagine what the church was originally, we have not only
to remove the rows of fourteenth century chapels, and to efface
(as always) the sham Gothic high altar, but we must also set
the nave lower than the choir, for it was not till 1667 that some
unconscionable persons made the level uniform throughout.
We must also always remember that the love for a " vista "
from end to end of a church has entirely altered the effect
aimed at by the old builders. Our English cathedrals generally
retain the rood-screen, just as they retain the old low altar ; but
Roman Catholics began some time ago to sweep away their
screens, which are now extremely rare.
You can see here in St. Pierre where the shafts were corbelled
off for the screen to stand underneath, and in the Lady Chapel
there are two restored panels of the Crucifixion and Resur-
rection, which once belonged to the fourteenth century rood-
screen. In the church of St. Jacques, the doors that led on to
the rood-loft can be seen, and only the upper one has been
blocked up.
If we go out by the south porch into the Rue du Paradis
(a name that recalls the origin of the word " parvise " now
given to our English porches, but still used in France for the
church-yard), we can see again how these Early French artists,
having discarded the elaborate sculpture of the Normans, and
not having yet lost the love of their newly-found simplicity,
sought their finish in the arrangement of parts instead of the
decoration of them. In spite of the enormous buttresses that
partly block the transept, it is full of a charming grace, and
its three arcades bear further witness to the inventive power of
ST. JACQUES
77
St. Jacques, Lisieux.
the artist. A peculiarity about it is its want of symmetry,
which a reference to the central point of the doorway will show
at once.
We can have a last view of St. Pierre by turning up the Rue
Olivier on the east of the Rue du Paradis, whence from high
ground we can see the chapels and transepts, and note the
obvious join of the apse and choir.
If we follow this street across the Grande Rue, we come to
the church of St. Jacques, which has this peculiarity, that the
slope on which it is built has not been cut away inside, so that
you walk slightly uphill from the west door to the choir. It
was built between 1496 and 1540, and has none of the eccen-
7 8 THE DOOM OF OLD HOUSES CHAP.
tricities which were in vogue at this period ; but it is not very
interesting in its plainness. The painted decorations on the
ceiling are in excellent preservation (thanks to some friendly
coats of whitewash, now removed), and one of them bears the
date 1552. The window over the pulpit contains a curious
picture of the Apocalyptic Harlot, and that in the second
chapel on the south side gives the legend of St. James, whose
scallop-shells appear in the parapet.
The English come much to Lisieux ; and they come, I
suppose, mainly for the old timber houses. There are about
sixty such that have a real interest, and there is hardly another
town in France with so many. I had hoped to begin with one
that stood in the Rue du Paradis, and had a peculiar charm for
me because of its splendid iron grating and general originality.
But, alas ! it is gone, and in its place the bricklayers are hard
at work after their wont. I had thought that this one might
have been spared, and I am full of gall against the unknown
who has done this. And yet, I suppose, we have no right to
complain. Worse things are done in England. And who are
we, my fellow highwaymen and bywaymen, that this enter-
prising shopman of Lisieux should court ruin and typhoid to
satisfy the lust of our eyes? These lovable old houses will
drop off, like veterans, one by one, and perhaps when you come
here others will have fallen into the dust of the past. There is
only one remedy, and that is to build other houses as good. Alas !
The principal old houses that remain can be seen in a
walk from the Rue du Paradis along the Rue des Boucheries
(which is a continuation of it) till we turn to the left down the
famous Rue aux Fevres. In the Rue des Boucheries there are
many good houses, for example, 22 and 40, both stately ex-
amples, with narrow red bricks arranged diagonally between
the wood- work : opposite No. 40 there is a good specimen of
the great barn-like room in the roof. Down most of the
passages we shall find quaint tumble-down groups of houses,
and bits of carved work here and there.
iv LA SALAMANDRE 79
In the Rue aux Fevres we seem to be back in the middle
ages ; old houses nod across the narrow street to each other,
and children in their black blouses run in and out of the dark
recesses. But how fallen is the street from its former glories !
Old towns, with all their beauty, were doubtless not very clean ;
but the Rue aux Fevres was not the filthy crumbled place it
is now, in the days when well-to-do burgesses lived in it and
swept its doorways with their costly gowns.
The Manoir de Francois I. (No. 19), for instance, must have
belonged to a rich man who could spend money on its fanciful
carvings, though it has nothing to do with the King, except
that it belongs to his time. It bears the royal badge of the
salamander among the monkeys and beasts and men which
cover all its beams, and is therefore sometimes called la Sala-
mandre. There is an accolade over each of the windows of its
first story, and the curious windows of the second are crowned
by a very bold dormer in the roof.
As I write, it bears a notice that it is to let. To let ! Who,
I wonder, will be the next person to share its shelter with the
rats ! If some one does not take pity on it soon, there will be
nothing left to inhabit, for even its tough old beams are crazy
with despair, and long neglect has touched it with mortal in-
firmity. I cannot hope that the authorities will step in to its
rescue, for their kindness would be more cruel than all the
brutality of slumdom. And yet it would be a great boon to the
curious traveller if he could walk straight in and explore it,
as I did.
And what I found was that its rooms are much larger than
you would expect from the outside. They are, indeed, horribly
dilapidated, and the winding staircase has such eccentric
deviations from the primal law of the universe that I felt giddy
and almost sea-sick. It seemed as if the whole place would
fall on my head like a pack of cards unless I walked delicately.
Yet the rooms retain their red-tiled flooring, and a little carved
work has survived, They are still beautiful, and I could wish
So
A COMFORTABLE HOME
CHAP.
No. 33 Rue Au.r Fevrcs.
tor nothing better to live in. If I were an American I think I
would buy la Salamandre outright, and take it across the
Atlantic with me.
When I set it up again, though, I would choose a more open
site ; for never did I realise before how the opposite neighbours
in these old overhanging streets looked right into each others'
IV
ST. PIERRE-SUR-DIVES
rooms. They must have had good consciences in the middle
ages, or thick curtains, or perhaps only thick skins.
Further down the street is No. 33, alongside the stream ; and
this is a real old house, not a creation of the age of Francois I.,
when modern times were beginning, but a house that has
stood there since the thirteenth century. It is quite plain
is.
St. Pierre-sur- Dives.
under its high and weighty gable, and has a very low ground
floor, but its first floor is roomy enough. Do not forget to
admire it, although you find no photographers at work upon it.
Before you leave Lisieux you may well stroll further about.
There is a charming court-yard belonging to the Sisters of la
Misericorde in the Place Hennuyer, where the castle-like stone
house is part of an older convent. Another beautiful court-
yard is at 87 Grande Rue; and 47 Grande Rue is a late
fifteenth century house. And I had almost forgotten the ci-
devant Bishop's Palace next to the cathedral, with the quaint
arrangement of pediments and windows in its Louis-Treize
facade.
Seven miles after Lisieux we have a splendid stretch of
G
AN OLD MARKET-HALL
CHAP.
On the River Dives.
country before us, as our road begins the series of switch-back
descents that bring us to St. Pierre-sur-Dives, where there is an
admirable specimen of a thirteenth century market-hall, les
Halles. Its vast billowy roof rests on low stone buttressed
walls, and it would make the fame and fortune of an English
country town. The great abbey church suggests a fine but
rustic St. Pierre de Lisieux, and it, too, would be famous in less
IV
FALAISE
favoured countries than Normandy. Sometimes one sees an
image in the Rococo style that is of real beauty ; and I think
the Madonna in the Lady Chapel is one of these.
Most of the guide-books, waxing enthusiastic, tell the traveller
to spend half a day at Falaise, and I have myself known parties
devote quite an hour to it : a year afterwards the bolder spirits
The lower Town, Falaise.
of them will still describe it to their friends. We, who have
neither the eyes of Argus nor the memory of Lord Macaulay,
may stay here for a few days without feeling that we are slight-
ing the rest of the universe.
For, indeed, Falaise is one of the places to make friends with.
The beauty of its situation is equal to that of many a town that
folk cross the Alps to see ; its buildings are worthy of the his-
toric interest which belongs of right to the favourite stronghold
of the Norman dukes, the birthplace of the Conqueror ; and its
streets would give an artist constant employment for a month.
The position of Falaise in history is a military one. Few towns
deserve better to have given birth to a great conqueror. Long
before he had seen Arlette, Robert the Devil was in turn
defending and attacking the strong little town. William's very
G 2
THE LOWER TOWN
CHAP.
first military exploit was to take Falaise from Toustain who had
seized it. Later on, the castle was much used as a prison, and
here King John confined Arthur ; but Philippe Auguste took it
back from John. In the Hundred Years War, Henry V. seized
it, and Charles VII. recovered it. A century later it fell to the
Protestants, and then to the Catholics ; then Coligny recovered
it, and after two more sieges it fell finally into the hands of
Life
ll'nshiitg Place, Falaise.
must have been full
of incident to the
Henri IV.
Falaisiens.
A few steps along the principal street from the Grand Cerj
bring one to the path that leads down among old stone cottages
to the valley of the Ante, past the ancient gateway, the Porte
tics Cordeliers, now a peaceful dwelling-place reached from the
inside by a flight of steps. We can wander among the streets
of this wonderful valley, and notice the spinning machines in
the cottages, and the children playing, the flowers on the win-
dow-sills, the queer little bridges over the stream, the endless
variety of pretty corners, the character of the old houses which
abound here as well as in the upper part of the town ; for
though the houses of Falaise are not curiosities that can be
labelled, as at Lisieux, I think they are even more delightful.
As we go on through unexpected paths, sometimes between
cottages, sometimes overlooking terraces where apple trees
iv FALAISE CASTLE 85
grow, the Castle of Falaise comes grandly into view, its huge
square keep held up by great buttresses on the high crag, a tall
round tower bearing it company at the side. It looks from here
not like a ruin, but like some fairy palace ; and one almost
expects to see the gleam of armour on its heights.
There is a Fontaine d'Arlette near the foot of the castle, and
its title is given also in English for the benefit of the guileless
visitor. Hard by, it is interesting to note, is a flourishing tan-
nery, redolent of history. Does that tanner, I wonder, claim to
be hundredth cousin to Queen Victoria ?
We can walk up along the side of the rocky hill till we are
close to the Tour Talbot, and there at its side is a huge ivy-
grown chasm in the wall. This is the "Breche Henri IV.," the
breach which that monarch made and through which he entered
to take the castle from the Ligueurs. It had changed hands
many times before, but the unmended breach bears witness
that peace followed in the wake of Henri of Navarre. We can
then follow along the side of the huge south wall, and mark
well its solid bastions, since the cottages that lie at its feet hide
nothing of its great height. At the east we pass round by the
Gendarmerie to the entrance, and walk along the great wall on
the inside till the round tower and the enormous square keep
are before us. Gaillard was a fortress to guard an important
highway ; but this keep is a fortified palace. We enter it hard by
the original gateway, which is high out of our reach now that the
drawbridge and steps are gone. A flight of steps in the partition
wall brings us up on to the second story, where a melancholy
restoration tries to give us some idea of its original condition.
Down in the basement there is a round hole not a well, for
it is quite shallow, but a saloir or place for salting meat, it is
thought. Above that is the first story ; we are standing on the
second ; there seems to have been a third overhead. The
western end, between the windows, was a corridor, which gave
access to the rooms on either side of the partition wall that once
divided this story too, as we can see by the marks in the east
86 A STORIED WINDOW CHAP.
wall. Fine rooms they must have been, with very comfortable
alcoves by the pretty windows, some of which have still their
old capitals that are carved with interlaced work.
But, alas for the legends which our guide will tell us ! If
Duke Robert first saw the tanner's daughter from that window
on the north side, we have final proof that telescopes were
invented in his day. Only even then he could not have seen
her from there. For the keep cannot have been built before the
twelfth century, and there is nothing left of Robert's castle. It
follows, too, that William the Conqueror was not born in the
gloomy cell where a printed poem bids us bend our knees and
perform other acts of anachronistic devotion. Prince Arthur
was indeed shut up somewhere here by John, but then we have
no right to invent a cachot for him.
On the north side of the keep a restored fireplace marks the
site of the principal room ; beyond it is a little chapel in the
thickness of the wall. What a world of romance hangs about
this great ruin as we portion out its chambers in our fancy !
It would have been in such a place that the legendary heroes
of Arthurian chivalry dwelt and from such a window as one
of these the Lady of Shalott must have leaned to gaze out upon a
landscape not less noble.
On the west of the keep is a smaller building, called the Salle
des Chevaliers, with late windows and a restored fireplace.
From here the guide will take us to the Tour Talbot, which
was probably built two hundred years before Talbot existed. It
seems to belong to the class of towers which Philippe Auguste
erected when he won Normandy for the French crown. Like
those at Gisors and at Rouen, it is circular and high, amazingly
high it appears as we climb up the staircase in its wall and look
down upon the trees from the uppermost story. It contains
five stories. As we approach it, we look down to the circular
opening of the "oubliette" which was either for prisoners or
provisions probably for the latter, though the stories that are
told one of these old castles would lead one to suppose that their
IV
THE TOUR TALBOT
Falaise Castle : the Tour Talbot.
masters had no appetite for anything but cruelty. There is the
usual well in the thickness of the wall, with an opening into
each story ; and when the guide throws a piece of lighted paper
down, it seems to be of awful depth, although it was once far
88 SAINTE TRINITK CHAt>.
deeper. In the uppermost room, called the Governor's, there is
a fireplace ; but this part of the tower is not so old as the rest.
There are most glorious views from the little window seats, and
altogether one can imagine no better study for a philosopher
than one of these stone chambers : the well would have supplied
his simple needs, and the oubliette could have received his
manuscript.
From the castle we can realise the splendid situation of
Falaise. Its two churches mark the ridge of the hill, and its
streets straggle out among the trees and orchards and terraces
of the valley like so many stone rivers. Opposite, the great
rocks of Mont Mirat hang among its bushes ; and we must
by all means cross over and climb up that hill by one of the
paths among the blackberries and hawthorn, till we reach the
flat summit, where we can sit on a summer evening on one of
the rocks that lie among the heather and gorse, and look upon
the lovely land that lies about us.
Near the castle is the dashing statue of William the Con-
queror, which stands in the square before the church of Ste.
Trinite. This church is remarkable for the fact that its eastern
part skips over an archway, to form a sort of little ambulatory
that climbs up behind the high altar and leads to the tiny Lady
Chapel, which we should have thought larger as we stood below
the archway. On emerging through the smells which linger in
this tunnel to the south side, we are rewarded with a very pretty
corner of the church. A Renaissance pinnacle displays its
charms near windows which have very delicately carved drip-
stones, and these rest on little men-at-arms a warrior with
sword and buckler, a long-bowman kneeling on his quiver, a
cross-bowman, and a man with club and shield. The north
porch of Ste. Trinite' is famous. It is a work of the third
decade of the sixteenth century, much decayed, and in it the
artist has if we maybe allowed the phrase let the Gothic
down easily. The corner buttresses have slender Gothic
shafts, yet between these shafts are quaint little orders, and
IV SAINT-GERVAtS S 9
above their Gothic caps the shafts end in consols ! So shafts
and arches, gargoyles and pediments, are jumbled together with
much daring and effect. The western porch is blocked with
an angular unusual baptistery. Within, the low arches of the
thirteenth century tower drop down oddly between the
higher nave and highest choir. This choir was begun in 1510
and was good Renaissance work, but the restorers have so com-
pletely restored it that they felt themselves justified in inscribing
conspicuously on a capital the dates 1894, 1895, 1896. Some
of the caps on the north piers of the nave have been hacked
away, but enough remains to give us a good idea of various trades
in the fifteenth century, and St. Sebastian can be traced, with
other saints.
The beautiful church of St. Gervais is still in the restorers'
hands, and the houses that were built up against it are dis-
appearing. It is Norman in a sort of Flamboyant frock, and
its fine twelfth century tower remains unspoilt as yet. Within,
it runs slightly uphill like St. Jacques at Lisieux ; and when I
last saw it, the Suisse in a blue blouse instead of his habit of
ceremony was sweeping the choir with a pipe in his mouth.
The south side of the nave is still Norman, with a plain wall
(once covered with frescoes) instead of a triforium. It is in-
teresting to notice the way the two eastern piers here have been
rehandled in two very different periods.
The suburb of Guibray grew up round its church, and the
church grew up round a statue of the Madonna, discovered,
like that of La Couture, by an intelligent sheep and Guibray is
famous all over Normandy for the fair which the flocking
together of pilgrims brought about on the festival of the As-
sumption. Folk say that Duke William, child of a Falaise
peasant and sire of English princes, established the Poire de
Guibray ; perhaps it is older even than that. It lasts for about
a week either side of August i5th, which is to the Church the
feast of the Assumption, and to all France a great bank-
holiday.
9 o
GUIBRAY
CHAP.
1 /}
^
St. Gcti'uis, Falaise.
All the way up from Falaise to Guibray on the straight
Argentan road are crowds of country people, coming and going,
and the humble cafes at the side are filled with quiet men and
women who eat the frugal luxuries they have earned by so much
toil. Most turn off near the top of the hill to go into the
pleasure-fair, but that is only the light-hearted child of the
iv THE FEAST OF THE ASSUMPTION 91
horse-fair which is held further on round the Norman church
that is the mother of it all. There, in the rambling dusty
square before the great porch, stand crowds of farmers in sombre
black blouses, attendant on innumerable horses of various
degree ; and there a little further on is the fenced run where
the meek beasts are being put through their paces. In the
spreading western porch (which was made so large just to give
shelter at fair time) the quiet talk of the farmers dies away, and
the sound of chanting takes its place. Vespers is being sung
within the church. Slim green chains of holly leaves spread
from vault to piers, long gonfalons of Mary's blue add new
colour to the old white stone ; under the balustrade with which
the subjects of LouisXVIII. softened the sternness of a Norman
apse, gleam the lights of many candles. The procession of the
Maiden to whom Guibray owes so much is to begin. Chant-
ing her Litany, it moves round the church, Sancta Maria,
Sancta Dei Genetrix, Sancta Virgo Virginum, ora pro nobis.
First, in gorgeous hat, rapping the heavy stick of his office,
comes the Suisse, martial as everything must be to command
respect in France ; his long grey imperial recalls the time
when German hosts swept over the land. Then follow the cross
and the embroidered banner of our Lady of Guibray, and scarlet
acolytes, and bronzed singing men in their copes. Mater
amabilis, Mater admirabilis^ Mater Creatoris, ora pro nobis.
Four girls in white frocks carry the golden image of the Virgin,
and round about them are little village children wearing white
wreaths on their heads in token of their first communion.
The cure follows in a cope of cloth of gold ; he is bronzed too,
and with spare features, in strong contrast to the lusty priest
who is singing so heartily among the children. Grizzled laymen
of the Confraternity walk last of all ; and then the procession
passes away and dissolves into the choir ; and the cure goes up
to the altar, with hands muffled in the humeral veil, to give the
Benediction with the sacred Host.
The Salut is over, and the people pass out into the blazing
92 GUIBRAY FAIR CHAP.
sun ; to thread their way home among the horses that do not
kick and the serious farmers that never gesticulate over their
bargains.
All who have not business to keep them from its delights are
now at the pleasure-fair, on the other side of those streets of
Guibray which look more deserted than ever at this time.
There, too, are the sombre farmers, but young men also in
smart attire, and girls with flowery hats, and harmless little
soldiers, and people of every age and description. They stroll
past the booths, resisting for the most part the attractions of
sweets, and cutlery, and ginger-bread, and basket-work, and
real violins, and even of the nougat merchant, who wears a
crimson fez and announces that he will take (at a reduction)
those foreign coins which elsewhere remain overlong in the
purse. They stroll, the pleasure-seekers of the arrondissement
of Falaise, honest couples arm in arm, into the heart of the
fair, where are such vanities as might have tempted the Pilgrim
himself. Dizzy swings for the young, and for the strong-headed
of all ages a giant roundabout, whose intricate parts gleam with
all the splendours of the East, and whose machine-made inter-
minable music forms the atmosphere of the whole fair. Round
these incessant entertainments the square teems with people,
who are solicited by the owners of the great shows that stretch
along its four sides. The cautious peasant requires much per-
suasion before his fired imagination prompts him to mount the
steps, pay his sous, and enter the canvas doors of mystery.
This ceaseless importunity is really the fun of the fair. Every
inch of frontage teems with gaudy imaginings, and every per-
former has to display himself on the platform before his show
begins. There, for instance, is the Monstre des Mers, a blood-
curdling picture of a boat's crew being devoured by a hideous
leviathan. Yet we know that the men who, with the courage
of their sex, are gazing through the conspicuous iron bars into
the tank, see nothing but some obscure innocent seal, whose
only claim to inspire horror lies in a slight natural deformity.
IV
ACTIVE ADVERTISEMENT
93
And there on the platform of "the Eden-Cirque one gentleman
in pink is holding aloft on the palm of his hand another gentle-
min in pink, while two hard-featured ladies in short orange
skirts gesticulate fiantically to the gaping youth of Falaise.
Yet, if we pay our twenty centimes, and enter, the two gentle-
men in pink will but continue to throw each other about, and
the two orange ladies cannot do much else than gesticulate.
Chateau near Falaise.
And the contents of that imposing Maison dcs Actualizes Histo-
riques do not justify one's natural anticipations ; behind the
long row of magnifying glasses are pictures which would be
rejected by a penny illustrated paper.
But I am unjust. There is often something worth seeing
behind all this exaggeration. At the Theatre des Families, for
instance, where four black-haired ladies in light blue silk are
dancing with paper hoops, and a bibulous gentleman in red
velvet is blowing a cornet while another in a clown's dress is
violently beating a drum, thirty centimes will not be spent in
vain ; for the gentleman in red can lie on his back and perform
amazingly neat juggling with his feet, and, though it must be
confessed the tableaux of Jeanne d'Arc are not quite up to the
94 HARD-EARNED COPPERS CHAP.
picture which represents her so heroically scaling a wall, yet the
four ladies in blue do their posing with an air that is worthy of
a richer setting. And, then, two of them juggle with knives
and bells. Yesterday they were waltzing round the platform
in pink ; and the clown was receiving resounding slaps from
the gentleman in red velvet. And always when a sufficient
crowd is collected outside, the dancing grows faster, the drums
are banged, the performers shout inaudibly through the din,
and an audience begins to pass up by twos and threes from the
crowd. So it is when drum and trumpet stir the blood for
battle ; that which poor average man dare not do in his normal
solitary condition, he will do in the press of fellowship and the
stir of boisterous music.
Yet why is that so necessary at a canvas theatre which is not
at all needed at a stucco one ? Sir Henry Irving does not
stand under the portico of the Lyceum and yell at the people
of the Strand to come and see his latest impersonations.
Yet the public is at a fair specially to seek amusement, and it
is not so in the Strand. Why then should busy London need
no inducement, and holiday-making Falaise need so much ?
Our Princess's Theatre in London condescends a little more
to the art of advertisement. But when "The Two Little
Vagabonds " was played there, the whole company did not
arise and waltz on a platform outside the theatre. Yet that is
what they do at the Theatre des Soirees Dramatiques, when
that pretty little melodrama is being acted in its French
original, " Les Deux Gosses" ; and with all due respect to the
London artists (whose performance I had not the pleasure of
seeing), I do not think they can have shown much better
acting than this company of strolling players, who had to con-
tend all the while with the noise of music and drums and bells,
and of people firing at clay pipes outside.
There is always something to do or see at a fair. For me
the massacre of clay pipes has a deadly fascination. For others
of more intellectual capacities there is always the pleasure of
ARGENTAN
95
tracing artistic talent among the curious crowd of performers,
who through training, or misfortune, or the love of a roaming
life, or some ineradicable defect, are doomed to hammer out
their livelihood from the hard-handed, close-fisted peasantry.
What pictures there are too ! The canvas circus, rimmed with
stolid hinds ; a flaring coster's lamp tied to the tent-pole, and
under its uncertain light a circling pony on whose indifferent
back a thin little girl performs her simple tricks. The feeling
of family relationship gives a pathos to the whole scene. It is
the father who stands in dingy pink tights to urge on the
unwilling pony ; an elder brother plays the clown with uncon-
cealed seriousness ; the mother, bedizened as she is, nurses
her baby without reserve outside the ring, and near her a small
boy, barely emerged from frocks, waits in his professional attire
for the moment when he is to turn somersault on his father's
head.
A road through swaying uplands, where heather appears and
sweet-scented pine here and there, covers the thirteen miles
between Falaise and Argentan. The streets of Argentan
scramble over its hillock, and at the top is the church of St.
Germain, whose towers were visible miles along the road,
whence they looked at first like two broad poplars. So quiet
the town is, so retired, with an air of the days of the Grand
Monarque about it. Its medieval glories have faded almost
away ; one forgets that it was at Argentan that Henry II.
heard of the murder of Becket, and lay for five weeks on ashes,
seeing nobody. The shapely building whose iron gateways
proclaim it now as a prison was once a castle ; the chapel
which belonged to it is let out in tenements. On the higher
ground the ruins of the real stronghold, the Donjon du Con-
netable, are hidden by a hotel. The old keep, which was
sixty feet high, made the inhabitants of Argentan nervous, and
was destroyed at their request more than two hundred years
ago. The Palais Ducal, which stood within the enceinte, is
gone. Only the Tour Marguerite retains with its machi-
SAINT-GERMAIN
CHAP.
eolation a mildly martial air. It is not very high, and a
pillow hangs out of one of its windows. An ancient door still
admits to its stone staircase, which though included within the
unbroken circle of its walls, rises through the top of the tower
and has an independent roof of its own, which adds to the
The Castle, Argentan.
quaintness of the red-tiled cone that grows from the upper
story to end in a fascinating knob.
As we first come into Argentan we pass the lesser church
of St. Martin, and we can enter through its east door, near
which the canopies of two niches twist so prettily together.
I )o not put any money into the box which appeals for funds
towards the restoration ; for the charm of the church will be
gone if that fatal thing is ever done. It has tracery like
that of our own Jacobean Gothic, and a delightful triforium
which consists of a classical arcade with open panels all differently
carved, and the Louis XIV. reredos with its statue of the saint
fits in well with all the rest. But the glass in its choir is the
special treasure of St. Martin. M. Palustre tells us that it is
very important as it led to quite a school, and that its char-
iv THE CHURCH OF SAINT GERMAIN 97
acteristics are the abundant use of a red, lightly oranged, and
a certain dryness of design which does not hinder the elegance
of its forms, Besides this red there are abundant blues and
purples and pinks. Beginning at the north, the first picture is
the Last Supper, a spacious scene with good architecture, and
a nice array of jugs in the foreground. Above this is the
Agony in the Garden. Next, Christ before Pilate, with Francois
I. in one of the divisions. Next, the miracle of St. Veronica,
with Abraham's Sacrifice above, and St. Anne, and Eli teach-
ing Samuel. The Crucifixion in the centre is slightly restored ;
so is the Descent from the Cross, a striking design. Next is
the Ascension ; and in the last window the Pentecostal Dove
is spreading a radiance of fire upon the Apostles.
The elaborate north porch of St. Germain projects forward
rather like that of St. Maclou at Rouen. Above it rises the
tower, a noble pile of seventeenth century arches and urns,
which would receive the admiration it deserves were it in
London and its author Christopher Wren. As we go along the
north side we notice that some of the windows have been
cleared of their late Gothic tracery ; but it is the chevet that is
most remarkable, with its round windows, and its buttresses,
which are faced with little columns in twos and threes, and
crowned with the strangest pinnacles, some of which end solidly
in a pediment, while others are in two parts joined by balusters
or by flying strips of stone.
Beza, the Reformer, came to this church and smashed
things about a bit ; after which he mounted the pulpit, and
preached against the evils of Popery. It recovered from his visit,
and now has a certain air inside of old-world sumptuousness.
One can almost see the gentlemen in wigs stretch across to
hand each other snuff, one can almost hear the ladies rustling
past in preternatural petticoats. They furnished the place up to
their liking, in the generations before the red Flood, with
iron screens and wainscotting for the choir, and images, and
retables, and pictures, indeed, there is actually a quite good
9 3
FADED SPLENDOUR
CHAP.
Argentan: The tower of St. Germain.
picture ; it is by the Spaniard Navaretto. A huge Renaissance
organ case bears witness to the pomp of Argentan in an earlier
age ; and a still earlier embellishment is the carving on one of
the piers of the crossing. It represents an ass in complete
harness, and is said to have had a companion ox opposite with
iv MARGUERITE OF LORRAINE 99
a view to the Christmas crib ; an inscription tells us that we
owe it to Jehan Moyne, mason, in 1488.
The east end is even more curious within than without.
When it was enlarged by the exterior wall, the old buttresses
were left standing inside as piers. They are encased in short
pillars ; and, though M. Palustre justly criticises these as a
bizarre scaffolding a proof that the Renaissance was becoming
heavy and gauche yet one is thankful for their quaintness ; and
the windows, which form a continuous round-headed arcade, are
exceedingly graceful.
In the first chapel next the north porch an inscription an-
nounces, Ci-gtt le cceur de la bien-heureuse Marguerite de Lorraine.
She is the saint of Argentan, a saint by popular canonisation
because of her holy life among the poor and the many miracles
which are said to have been wrought at her tomb. It is after her
that the Tour Marguerite is named. Princess Marguerite of
Lorraine, Duchess of Alengon, great-grandmother of Henri IV.,
was certainly a woman of most beautiful character. In her
widowhood she redoubled her good works, and in 1517
founded the monastery of Ste. Claire at Argentan ; in 1520 she
accomplished the desire of her life in taking the veil, and
henceforth was known only as Soeur Marguerite. A year after
her profession she died in the poverty she had chosen, a true
daughter of St. Francis whose habit she wore. In spite of the
great veneration in which her relics were held, only her heart
has been preserved, for at the Revolution an incredible decree
of the Convention ordered that lead coffins should be melted
down to provide material for bullets. They took up the coffins
at Argentan, brought them to the city ditch and then, knocking
open one end, shot out their contents. A good workman tried
to save the body of Marguerite by offering to make with his
own hands a new coffin of wood, but the apostles of equality
shouted in reply: "Point de distinction pour Marguerite de
Lorraine ! "
Argentan would be a good place for a long stay. Being on
H 2
100
AN INTERESTING NEIGHBOURHOOD
CHAP.
the line between Paris and Granville, and also in direct com-
munication with Caen, and Se'es, and Alenc.cn, it is accessible
as well as secluded. One could make it a centre for exploring
that corner of Normandy of which Alen^on is the border
town, and for the valley of the Orne and for Mortagne. Quite
near to Argentan, though out of our route, are the two in-
teresting villages of Exmes and Almeneches ; they are both
described in I'Yeeman's Travels in Normandy and Maine, a
book which you should bring with you if you mean to stay any
time at Argentan. Se'es is a most lovely village, with a fine
cathedral of its own.
The road straight down the middle of the town leads to
Kcouche, which is only five miles off. Like all the others this
street is pretty; on the right is the Hotel des Trois Marie, which
an amusing misprint in Joanne makes the Hotel des Trois
Marins. The bridge at the bottom crosses the Orne, a shallow,
sluggish river here, and on the left the picturesque double
galleries of a fifteenth century house look over the water.
Kcouche is a tumble-down little place, with an anyhow sort
of church, and a dilapidated market-hall. ]>ut it is not un-
IV
RANKS
prosperous, nor is it to be despised for food and rest. We
are coming now into fine country, and greener villages, of
which the grass square (how sweet is grass after gravel !) and
X
f
The Orne at Argentan.
the cottage gardens of Ecouche gives a foretaste, From
Ecouche to Ferte-Mace by way of Ranes is fourteen miles.
As we go up the village street of Ranes, we notice a change
in the look of things. We have left the land of cold white
frontages behind us, and this is the gate of the country of dark
grey stone, where old houses last longer and new houses look
nobler, and where nature is more luxuriant. Before us is the
tower of the village church, its dark stones looking almost
black, and set well apart from each other as if they needed no
102
LA FEKTE-MACE
CHAP.
mortar. The tower has four gables ; a dark choir and sacristy
lie grouped at its feet. It is quite unpretentious, but it seems
to me one of the most beautifully impressive things I have
seen in Normandy. On the other side of the pretty village
The old Market Hall, Econche.
square is a noble specimen of a country chateau ; it belongs to
the beginning of the sixteenth century, and centres in a broad
battlemented tower.
La Ferte-Mace, now a flourishing country town, was once a
castle, as its name declares : Ferte is feritas or fortress, and
Forte-Mace just means the Fortress of Matthew. The old
sires of La Forte built here a castle, the site of which is pre-
served by some of the street-names Rue des FosseVNicole,
Rue do la IJarre, La Poterne, Place du Chateau and, as was
the pious habit of the times, they then founded a priory. It
was a son of the founder who distinguished himself at the
JJattle of I Listings -
" Cil do Mombmi ot do Sale
Et li sire do la For to
Maint Englciz unt acravonto."
\Ve receive better treatment nowadays at Norman hands; the
landlord of the C/icrnl Noir makes ample amends for any
little roughness once associated with the name of La Ferte
IV THROUGH THE FOREST TO DOMFRONT 103
Only the tower and choir now remain of the old Norman
priory ; and it is characteristic of the town's martial history
that there are ominous loopholes in the turret of the monastic
church. La Ferte retains a certain air of feudal dignity ; and
the powerful dark stone almost saves some parts of the atro-
cious modern church, though its builders have managed to
make even their bare wall spaces frivolous by arranging the
stones in patterns.
It is twelve miles straight through the Foret d'Andaine to
Domfront ; but. if we like, we can make a de'tour through the
Foret de la Ferte to Bagnoles, a well-known watering place,
whither jaded Parisians repair to restore their digestions. The
valley of Bagnoles is a chasm in the great chain of quartzite
hills, which stretch on to Mortain ; it lies beautifully in the
forest, which is as yet fresh and unspoilt, so that one can lie
on the heather under the firs and eat bilberries to one's heart's
content. And to the traveller it is interesting to come thus
suddenly upon the villas and hotels which have grown up
round the mineral springs, to see smart frocks, and pavilions,
and the inevitable casino with its theatre and its petits chevaux,
and then to plunge again into the forest on his way to the
medieval town of Domfront. It is by a perfectly straight road,
turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, that he must
go, past the railway station, and avoiding the left-hand turning
that leads to Juvigny. After five miles he comes to one of the
forest cottages where several cross-roads meet, and here he
takes the road that runs due west, and so proceeds through the
huge forest of young oak-trees with patches of fir here and
there, till the cultivated fields begin to appear through the
heather banks, and suddenly the magnificent country of Passais
lies almost at his feet. Domfront is now quite near ; it lies at
the end of the forest range on which he has been travelling ;
and so, while the railway-passenger finds it perched upon its hill,
the happier cyclist glides down into the ancient city, and sees
the vast stretches of woodland lie all around it like the sea.
Domfront .' Notre- Datne-sur-l ' Eau.
CHAPTER V
DOMFRONT, MORTAIN, VIRE
TAKE it all in all, Domfront is one of the most interesting
medieval towns in France. It stands upon its hill, a collection
of lowly stone houses, crossed by little streets with undis-
coverahle corners, surrounded still for the most part by its
ancient walls. It has no perfect monuments, and nothing
perhaps of very striking interest, for its castle is but a ruin.
But it is the whole place and its surroundings that give one
so excellent an idea of what an old city was like. English people
go to two or three towns in Normandy to look at a few
monuments stranded among steam-trams and showy shops
but they come little to Domfront which would teach them, and
I think, would please them infinitely more. And this neglect is
evident by the conduct of the natives, who would indeed do well
to look at strangers a little less and at their own city a little more.
They seem to know less about it than the traveller of a day.
Furthermore, Domfront lies among the loveliest country of
fields and hills, a miniature Switzerland, that stretches to Mor-
tain and Virc, and past the Mont Margantin into Maine, the
province from which the Conqueror wrested Domfront by the
mere terror which his name inspired.
CHAP, v THE BULWARKS OF DOMFRONT 105
The suburban Rue d'Alengon by which Domfront is entered
from the east, becomes the Grande Rue of the old town at the
fragment of an old tower and gate, whence it climbs up into
the heart of Domfront. We will not enter it, but will go by
the road to the left which leads us along the south side below
the city walls. It is from this road that we can get so excel-
lent an idea of the place ; and it will take us to the castle
which is at the west. Tower after tower of the fortification
appears on our right as we go along ; the walls in between are
worked into houses ; the towers themselves are all inhabited,
windows are cut in their machicolation, and chimneys project
innocently from them. At their base are terraced gardens,
luxuriant with vine and pear trees and flowers and French
beans. Little flights of steps run in and out, giving access from
our road. It is a sight such as we have not seen before, and
shall not see again.
At the end of the road is a bank of fennel and wild clematis :
fruit trees grow below it, and beyond them lies a vast expanse
of country that makes us turn our backs upon the old ramparts.
For when can we hesitate when nature spreads out her loveli-
ness in rivalry with that of human making ? The country before
us stretches out into infinite distance, where the dark green of
its innumerable trees passes into blue. On the left the forest
rises like a huge wave over Mont Margantin, on the right it
dies away on the level towards the sea where Mont-St. -Michel
lies hidden, and there the setting sun comes to throw its crimson
and gold, leaving the inland country in blue and opal. When
the sun has gone, a white mist enfolds the rich land of Passais,
and the old walls regain their martial consequence in the cold
glamour of the moon, looking as in the days that are past when
Domfront was a terror to the country at its feet. We can
understand the cry of exultation that Wace puts into the mouths
of the conquering Normans
" De ci qu'a la grant mer
N'a qui lor pcust contrestcr."
106 MATIGNON LAYS SIEGE CHAP.
A flight of steps leads up from here to the castle. It enters
by the breach which was made on the bloodiest day in all the
history of Domfront. For here it was that Montgommery made
his last stand before the royalist troops of Matignon.
The story is a stirring one. In 1574 Domfront had been taken
by two Protestant adventurers, Ambroise and Rene' le He'rice ;
Ambroisc, who was known as le Balafre, the Scarred, ruled
and taxed the people with great cruelty, calling himself king
and master of Domfront.
This was the position when Gabriel de Lorges, Comte de
Montgommery, arrived. Montgommery is famous for the acci-
dent which fifteen years before had made him a regicide : he
was tilting against Henri II. when a splinter from his lance
lifted the King's visor and pierced him in the eye. The King
died, leaving his widow, Catherine de Medicis, most deadly of
foes, to nv.mage the kingdom, Montgommery became a Cal-
vinist. Three years later he only escaped the Massacre of St.
Bartholomew by galloping out of Paris with a few friends. The
grand et roidc jciinc liommc, nonchalant et pen soucieux^ who loved
gaming and pleasure, became one of the most redoubtable
leaders on the Calvinist side; his carelessness left him the mo-
ment he was in the field.
Such was the man who arrived at Domfront in the May of
1574, having dashed out of Carentan with a company of sixty
horsj. Me had scarcely entered the castle when he found that
Matignon, the royalist general, had left the siege of St. Lo
(ch. VII) on the news of his enemy's escape, and was now sur-
rounding 1 )omfront. It was in those days a weak town with walls
ahv.uly decrepit and out of date ; very few of its inhabitants were
Huguenots, and they all had reason to hate le Balafre, whose
ally Montgommery now was. The little force only numbered a
hundred and fifty men, and against them fresh troops crowded up
on every side, prom Clement ct joycuscmcnt, com me pour prendre
i "ic bcs/e furicitsc ct //in a gastc tout le pays. This was the spirit
in which the siege was conducted.
MONTGOMMERY AT BAY 107
The Calvinists agreed to hold out to the bitter end. They
began hostilities with a sortie of twenty-five horsemen whose
audacity was rewarded by success and followed inevitably by
retirement. Matignon then set up his batteries. More troops
poured into the King's army every day, sent by the implacable
Catherine de Me'dicis ; nothing was heard but the drums and
trumpets of the fresh arrivals, and soon there were 6,000 arque-
busiers and 1,200 horse against the hundred and fifty. Even of
these, many who cared little about the religious questions at issue
were won over by the secret overtures of their Catholic friends.
Le Balafre had been killed at the outset in a quarrel with one
of Montgommery's men. He was buried in a tomb in Notre-
Dame-sur-1'Eau, but after a few days the King's troops came
there and dragged his body out, and hung it in chains on Tertre
Grisiere, which " marvellously displeased" the garrison, who tried
to bring it down with their fire-arms. A long and naively vin-
dictive account of this beastly incident is preserved from the
pen of the gentleman whose ancestral tomb in Notre-Dame had
been violated by the interment.
On May 23rd the great attack began. The six pieces on
Tertre Grisiere blazed away and made a breach in the town
which Montgommery's little band could not attempt to hold.
Thirty Bretons used the opportunity to slip over to the enemy.
By noon a breach was made in the castle wall. Montgommery
tried to spike the enemy's guns by a sortie, but was driven
back with loss. Then for nearly two hours he defended the
breach against the murderous fire of the arquebusses. At two
o'clock the columns were seen advancing through the smoke to
the assault a thousand gentlemen in armour, four hundred
pikemen in corselets, six hundred arquebusiers with morions
on their heads. On the ruined ramparts some forty men
knelt around the chaplain as he offered up a prayer for the
dying. The prayer was followed by the cry of Aux armes !
and the forty stood up. As the first ranks of the attack moved
into the fosse, a culverin from the flanking tower threw them
io8 DEATH OF MONTGOMMERY CHAP.
back for a moment ; then followed a protracted struggle for
the possession of the breach. Montgommery seemed to bear a
charmed life, but many of his knights were killed, among them
a young man named de Bont, who managed to write a letter to
his mistress, with his own blood for ink, before he died. At 7
o'clock the royal troops sounded a retreat. Twenty-eight of
the garrison remained, and of these some more slipped away
during the night. Next morning there were only fifteen left,
some of whom were dying, and the powder was all but gone.
Montgommery, disappointed in his hope of dying sword in hand,
offered to surrender. The negotiations went on for some time,
but Matignon would only consent to a surrender at discretion.
Montgommery was taken to Paris and condemned to
death. On June 26th he was led out to la Greve, recited
his creed and prepared to lay his head on the block. As the
Provost read the sentence to him, he commented, " Cest Men.
Mes Incus acquis et confisqucs an roi ! fy consens. Mes sept tours
de Montgommery rasces ! J J y conscns encore. Degrade de noblesse I
ncuf fits ct deux files declares vi/ains. J>y conscns t ou jours,
s'ils n'ont la vertu des nobles, pour s'en relmer ! "
As it happened his son became a great fighter. We shall
meet with him at Mont-St. -Michel. The line did not disappear
till the beginning of the eighteenth century, when the last male
died an idiot.
And now let us take our bearings in the castle ; for there is
something to be made out still among its ruins. The breach
where we have entered is on the south side. Due north of us are
the towering ruins of the square Norman keep, built of chunks
of rock that are faced with hard granite, and flanked with four
towers. Let us now follow the wall to the corner tower on our
cast, which lias a fragment of another tower within it. We are
now looking down on to the road that lies in the old fosse
which separates the castle on its eastern side from the town.
As we go along by this road the ''casemates" lie on our left:
they are tunnels in the thickness of the wall, fitted with loop-
v THE VARENNE 109
holes, and some more have been recently excavated in the
garden of the keeper, who will sho\v them to us. The road (or
fosse) is crossed here by a bridge that passes near where the
old entrance was. And now if we go on towards the northern
part of the castle we can see among the vegetable gardens the east
of the walls of the chapel, which is N.N.E of the keep, so that
chapel, keep, and breach are in a line with each other, from
N.N.E to S.S.W. It was here Henry II received the legates who
had been sent to negotiate in the matter of Thomas a Becket.
He was hunting in the forest with his son when they arrived.
He came up to see them, and as they were talking together
the prince dashed in with his huntsmen, blowing their horns
and making a great noise to announce the capture of the stag.
Henry left the legates and went off to congratulate his son, and
then returned at his royal leisure to continue the conversation.
A little to the west of the breach where we entered, the
ramparts jut out to form the square Tour de Presles, at the
foot of which the rock falls precipitously away. Here there is
another view of the country ; and we can see clearly, near the
scar which is made in the green landscape by the railway station
below, the firm little Norman church of Notre-Dame-sur-rEau,
which we shall visit on our way to Mortain.
From the Tour de Presles the wall slopes inward, to meet the
northern wall which also slopes inward, so that the enceinte presents
almost a pointed front at this the western extremity of the spur
on which it stands. Here the walls drop somewhat out of sight,
and we look straight across the deep gorge (where a train is
crawling like a black caterpillar by the river Varenne) to the
Tertre Grisiere, a huge mass of rock thrown up by some con-
vulsion of nature and now covered in part with pines and
heather. The Varenne forms a natural moat on this side.
Furthermore it is a witness that we have crossed the great
watershed; for whereas the Orne runs northwards to the
English Channel, the waters of the Varenne are destined to find
their way by the Loire to the Bay of Biscay.
ire THE GIBBET OF DOMFRONT CHAP.
The Tertre Grisiere which Domfront Castle confronts, hill
standing against hill as at Falaise, and castle against crag, has
its place in the local tradition. For one thing, it is said to
have been the hanging place, and Domfront has always been
famous for its gibbet ; witness the saying
" Domfront, Ville do malheur,
Arrive a midi, pcndu a une heure :
Pas seulement Ic temps clc diner ! "
The origin of this apostrophe is lo.st in antiquity. I have
read five stories of its origin, all quite different, wherefore I
shall recount none. Certainly there were plenty of occasions
for it. A local poet has written
" Le tranchant de la guillotine
Donne une egalite mesquine ;
Le privilege des Normands
Etait de mourir haul, et grands."
This privilege is said to have been at one time so com-
mon that a cure of Domfront insisted on charging hrs burial
fees at the time of baptism. " Qite voulez-vous, Monseigneur?"
he said to his bishop, when his parishioners complained, " Mes
ouaillcs out pour habitude dc sc faire pendre et de me priver
ainsi de mes droits. II faut bicn y pouvoir ! "
Legend attributes even the natural formation of the rocks
to miracle. There was once a holy hermit named Front (alas
for the suspicious etymology !) who came hither to convert the
people. There was also a lord named Talvas (he is more
historical, but then he really lived much later) ; Talvas was the
father of the castle, Front of the town. Furthermore there
was a Dragon who behaved himself as dragons will do. He
had the jaw of a crocodile, and the wings of a bat ; spikes
were on his back, and puffs of smoke emerged from his nostrils.
Talvas sent for counsel to the Druids who lived in the forest
of Passais. The High Priest slew two oxen, plunged his hand
into their entrails, and said: "This is the oracle. Each day
let there be drawn by lot a name from among the children : and
AN OBNOXIOUS DRAGON
in
let the chosen
one be thrown
into the Dragon's
cave at the third
hour of the sun.
For such is the
destiny." After
many children
had been de-
voured, the lot
fell on Talvas'
daughter. She
consoled her
father as best
she could, then
clad herself in
mourning and
went bravely
forth. At a turn
in the road an
old man ap-
peared, holding a
staff that was
shaped like a
cross. " Where
are you going,
my child?" he
said. " To the tomb," replied the maiden, with the inaccuracy of
youth. The old man pondered, prayed awhile, and then said,
"No, you will not die." Then he went to the Dragon's lair,
and adjured the monster to depart. With a horrid roar the
Dragon rose into the air, darkening it as he wheeled over their
heads, and plunged into the Varenne. Thus was formed the
Fosse au Dragon.
Needless to say, Talvas accepted the faith of the holy man,
Castle and Crag, Dojiifront.
ii2 NOTRE DAME-SUR-L'EAU CHAP.
Dom Front ; and as there is no chronology in legend, we are
not surprised to learn that Guillaume de Bellesme, called
Talvas, founded the Church of Notre-Dame-sur-1'Eau about
the year 1020. There were certainly lords of this name, most
of whom died violent deaths and deserved the epithet of the
second Guillaume, who was called Talvas the Cruel.
If we continue our walk round the north side of the town
we shall find more walls and towers ; there are fourteen towers
left, out of the twenty-four that once guarded Domfront.
There is a gateway with flanking towers near the east where
another bridge is thrown over the road. The church is nice,
though of no architectural interest, as the guides say ; and
every street of the little town is interesting. I read in the
splendid pages of " Normandie Monumentale " that there is a
Mai son de la Prison somewhere, with a Norman oratory and
altar in the thickness of the wall ; but no one in Domfront
could tell me its whereabouts, which, I suppose, is because the
natives have no eyes for anything but visitors.
We take leave of Domfront at the Church of Notre-Dame-
sur 1'Eau, which lies below the town on the banks of the
Varenne. It was a perfect type of Norman architecture, and
what is left is still of the best and purest; but in 1836 some
idiots who were making the new road to Mortain pulled down
most of the nave instead of carrying the road round it, so that you
must not be deceived by the present position of the west front
and the absence of aisles. The destruction was the more
detestable as the nave was very early in date; the church
was consecrated in 1056, and to this century belong the
transepts with their narrow windows and strips of buttresses,
and also what remains of the nave, but the chancel was added
some hundred years later. The subsidiary apses within are
like mere scoops in the walls with three small lights ; the
twelfth century chancel has a more elaborate apse and is
decorated with arcades. Near the high altar is an ample
piscina (covered, unfortunately, with a board), having a
v MORTAIN 113
narrow shelf above it. But the altar itself is the most interest-
ing thing of all, for it is early eleventh century rather earlier
than the consecration of the church and such altars are very
rare ; it is a good specimen of its period, a heavy slab with
large mouldings, resting on three legs, of which the two bigger
ones are shaped rather like pre-Norman balusters ; the surface
behind the legs is only plaster. The Madonna in the reredos
is of course not so early, but she is not later than the four-*
teenth century.
A short run of fifteen more miles brings us to Mortain, but
the last part is rendered tedious by one of those pig-headed
straight roads that make no attempt to negotiate the hills, and
hide half the beauty of this most beautiful country. Still, as
one gets gradually higher, some impression is gained of the
hills and forests that surround Mortain, and when one at length
reaches the place the reward is great.
Mortain consists mainly of one long street, which runs along
the side of a hill that is almost a mountain. Its castle, of
which hardly anything remains, stood on a rock, which curiously
enough is below the town near the bank of the river Cance.
In this valley, and quite close to the town, are two of the very
few waterfalls that are to be found in Normandy. On the
other side of the Cance the village of Neufbourg clings to the
side of the rock. Mortain possesses a seminary, a huge square
building which yet contains within its grim walls a small but
typical Cistercian monastery, the Abbaye Blanche ; church,
chapter-house, and part of the cloister remain, good examples of
the transitional style at an earlier stage than that of St. Evroult ;
at the west of the church is an undercroft, in an odd position,
says Freeman, " forbidding any west front."
The principal church of Mortain, St. Evroult, is a perfect
example of advanced Transitional, almost Early French work.
It is lighted entirely by plain pointed windows, without any
tracery or any invasions of other periods, except in the tower
which stands apart, and in the Norman doorway on the south,
i
ii 4 TIIE CHURCH OF SAINT-EVROULT CHAP.
sole relic of an earlier fane. The freshness of the carving on
this doorway shows how much we owe to the hard granitic stone.
Later architects would have thought twice before they tam-
pered with it, and modern restorers could find no excuse for
destruction. It certainly gives to old things the freshness of
youth and to new things some of the dignity of age ; just in-
side the doorway, for instance, is a stoup that hardly looks less
venerable, but it bears the date 1614. It is noticeable how
Mortain.
freely stone is used about here : at the foot of the church,
women are washing in a stone tank, near which are two tables
made of stone. The tower looks as if it belonged to much the
same period as the church, though the pair of narrow windows
that reach almost from gabled roof to base suggest a rather later
date. Parker dates it c. 1250, and regards it as worthy to illustrate
by the very exaggeration of its long windows, the differ-
ence between English and French towers. Standing like an
Italian campanile^ independent of its church, this tower of re-
strained but unusual appearance will remain in our minds as
the symbol of Mortain. A solemn procession of round piers
sweeps round nave and choir and broad apse ; the capitals in
the apse are plain, but elsewhere are carved with wave-like
ornament that catches the light and gives relief to the prevailing
severity. There are no transepts, but there are ambulatories
CHAPEL OF ST. MICHEL
and a Lady Chapel beyond. The stalls have carved miseri-
cords, but they are rather harsh, as if by men who disdained
the opportuni-
ties of such
tractable mate-
rial as wood.
Behind the
church a path
leads up. to the
chapel of St.
Michel that
crowns the hill,
and it is only
when we go
there through
the gorse and
bracken that we
realise how high
is the hill upon
which we are.
As a matter of
fact, when we
stand on the
great rocks that
form the plat-
form on which
the chapel
rests, we are
just over a
thousand feet
above the sea.
On the south-
Chapel of St. Michel, Mortain
east stretches a broken ridge of rock, that reminds me of
the Wenlock Edge in Shropshire, beyond it is Mont Mar-
gentan, which we first saw from Domfront. On the west the
u6 ON THE TOP OF THE HILL CHAP, v
long straight white road to St. Hilaire-du-Harcouet looks as if
cut by a knife through the trees ; and in this direction on a
clear day Mont-St.-Michel can be seen in the far distance. The
sound of a church bell comes from some village below, through
the rustling of the leaves and the incessant chirp of invisible
grasshoppers ; and the clear air is saturated with the scent of
pine, which is sweeter than all the scents of summer flowers,
and brings with it promise of health and memories of happy,
active days.
I hardly know of any better place in Normandy to stay in
than Mortain. It is high and healthy, fresh and clean, sur-
rounded by forests and hills ; and it contains in the Hotel de
la Poste, one of the nicest and most reasonable hotels I have
had the good fortune to know. People who do not care for a
continuous tour can make it the centre from which to visit not
only Vire, but Domfront and Avranches, and even Mont-St.-
Michel as well. Tinchebray, too, is within easy reach :
Tinrhebray, with its fortified fragment of a Romanesque
church, near which raged the battle when Henry I. in a
munner reversed the Battle of Hastings, winning Normandy
for the English Crown.
There are many pleasant walks about Vire, but if we do not
wish to stay there, it can be reached in an hour from Mortain.
Only then we must pay the usual penalty of railway travelling
by approaching it from its least interesting side. A long
straight road leads up the hill to the Porte-Horloge which
guards the old town. This belfry-gate, the lower part of which
belongs to the thirteenth century, is alone worth coming to see.
Two massive round towers flank the low pointed arch of the
gate, and a row of machicolation runs round them and above
the gateway itself ; as we pass underneath we can look up and see
the slit in the machicolation through which the marksmen could
cover those who tried to force the entrance. Directly over the
gate rises the high belfry, square in its lower part, with a
charming hexagonal addition on the top, that is crowned with
Tinckcbray,
nS
VIRE
CHAP.
;i cupola and ornamented with round balls. There is a clock
on the square tower, and a painted image of our Lady with an
inscription over the gateway.
In the Rue de Neufbourg, on our right on entering, is a
quaint house like a doll's house in granite. The main street
was covered ridiculously with pill-coloured paint in the days of
THE BELFRV AND CHURCH
119
the mania for uniformity, but all the old streets are interesting.
The church of Notre-Dame has that appearance of having been
hewn out of the solid rock which the exigences of hard granite
give to the Early and Decorated work alike. It has heavy
piers and narrow aisles, and brackets project from the small sepa-
rate openings of its triforium. At the south side, near the east,
The Church^ Vire.
a great chapel has been built on, looking with its flat ceiling
and plain gallery for all the world like one of our own Hano-
verian churches. The date of this chapel is 1764 ; the Lady
Chapel is late fifteenth century ; the south transept early
fourteenth, and the nave belongs to the end of the twelfth and
the beginning of the thirteenth centuries.
The ruins of Henry I.'s castle that made the history of Vire
lie at the end of the esplanade, which it once covered altogether.
From the western side one looks down upon the little valley
where lies the hamlet of Les Vaux Les Vaux-de-Vire famous
all the world over for having given its name to the light songs
of the Vaudeville. Olivier Basselin, a merry fulling-miller of
Les Vaux, gave birth to this form of French poetry in the
bright drinking-songs which rank him next to Villon in fifteenth
century literature.
1240
CASTLE RUINS
CHAP.
There is something extremely winning about the genial old
reprobate who could put forward this apology for himself:
" Ilelas ! que fait un povre yvrogne?
II sc rourhe, ct n'ocrit personnc,
< )u l>ien i! diet propos joyeulx.
II ne son^o ]>oint en u/.urc,
I-'.t ne faict a personne injure,
lijuveur d'eau pent il fairc mieulx ?"
FalstafT himself could not have appreciated more keenly the
humour of his o\vn defects ; like Falstaff, Olivier Basselin is
said to have seen fighting, for the battle of Formigny claims him
among its warriors. At all events, he looked upon warfare in
his own queer way :
V AN INTEMPERANCE ADVOCATE 121
" Tout a 1'entour de nos remparts,
Nos ennemis sont en furie :
Sauvez nos tonneaux, je vous prie !
Prenez plus tost de nous, soudards,
Tons ce dont vous aurez envie :
Sauvez nos tonneaux, je vous prie. . . .
Au moins, s'il prend notre cite,
Qu'il n'y trouve plus que la lie
Vuidons nos tonneaux, je vous prie ! "
His attitude towards his own red nose is in witty contrast to
the sensitiveness of a Cyrano de Bergerac. Here are the first
two stanzas from the poem A mon nez :
" Beau nez, dont les rubis ont couste mainte pipe
De vin blanc et clairet,
Et duquel la couleur richement participe
Du rouge et violet.
Gros nez ! qui te regard a travers un grand verre
Te juge encore plus beau :
Tu ne ressembles point an nez cle quelque here
Qui ne boit que de 1'eau."
We can reach Les Vaux in about ten minutes down the
side of the hill on the right ; or we can take the longer route,
carefully described by Joanne, which leads down through the
old town, past a thick-set tower of the ancient fortifications,
across the River Vire where modern factories are busy, and
along a road whence we look up at the fragment of castle,
dormant over its limes upon the high peninsula whose sides
are thickly covered by every kind of tree. We pass the
outskirts of the town, a few houses lying on the hillside
among terraced gardens, which stop suddenly to give
place to heather and rock ; and at the opening of another
valley lie a few houses. This is Les Vaux. The house
where Basselin is said to have lived is at the back
of a modern dwelling, sadly ruined ; it is a queer little
structure of lath and plaster held up by a spreading stone
wall, as it bulges over the rivulet. It is pervaded by that
strong watery smell which we sometimes find in shallow
rocky streams, a smell that seems an irony on poor Olivier's
a'tj-TfeS^EHkiV
k^~
CHAP. V
CHATEAU AT ST. -JAMES
123
fame. A rough board proclaims his name ; but if Vire were
a prohibitionist town of the United States it could not show
more contempt of this little house where dwelt the Anacreon
of the middle ages. [I hear the house has now gone, 1904.]
And now for a word about the way to Mont-St.-Michel.
The main road lies through St. Hilaire and Pontaubault,
Chateau at St. -James.
whence the route nationale should be followed as far as Bree ;
at Bre'e a by-road leads to les Pas, Beauvoir, and Mont-St.-
Michel, thirty-five miles altogether. Or one can go round by
the curiously named Saint-James, for the sake of its scenery
and beautiful Renaissance chateau. It once had a real castle
that William the Conqueror built to keep the Bretons out of
Normandy ; and it is in itself a very pretty village, with lamps
hung across the street, and a wayside cross that Mr. Pennell
has drawn for us. Those who might find the journey
too long could take the train as far as Pontaubault and
then ride. Even if they go by rail as far as Pontorson it
is best to take one's bicycle, for vast streams of tourists
converge at Mont-St.-Michel all the summer, and the
diligences are crowded. A noisy lying crowd of men out-
12 4
THE WAY TO THE MOUNT
CHAP. V
side Pontorson Station will try to force you into private con-
veyances ; and if you do not insist on travelling by the proper
correspondance of
the railway com-
pany, you will be
charged ten francs
for the journey, or
landed at the door
of a Pontorson
hotel. All this will
be avoided if you
have no luggage
but what you can
carry on your
bicycle. There is
no difficulty about
sleeping on the
Mount, for the
whole place is let
out to supply extra
apartments to the
hotels ; still in
August it is safer
to send a post-
card engaging a
room. Whatever
the demand for
rooms, the price
remains the same
(five francs a room with two beds) and everything is perfectly
fair and straightforward within the walls of the Mount. Some
people go over for the day in a carriage from Avranches ; but
this is only to waste money and time over a rather dull drive.
It is far better to sleep at the Mount, and thus see it in the
evening and at sunrise as well as in the heat and crowd of mid-
day, and to realise what it is like both at high and low water.
/ Si. James.
Mont-Saint- Michel from the sands.
CHAPTER VI
MONT-SAINT-MICHEL
MONT-SAINT-MICHEL, said Victor Hugo, is to France what
the Pyramids are to Egypt. This does not describe it ; but
then it is indescribable, for which reason one is quite grateful
to another French writer for having said that it was the eighth
wonder of the world.
We can only attempt to describe it by paradoxes. For one
thing it is " amphibious," in the sea at one time, on dry land
at another; the streams that run through the fangue that
covers the great bay at low tide, are real fresh water rivers, and
this tangue is as much earth as sand, as the greedy agricul-
turists well know. Once it was truly called Sf. Michel-au-
peril- de-la- Mer ; for it was not connected with the mainland
till the road was built in 1880, and many lives were lost, as
indeed lives are still lost every year in the bay, by the
126 ROCK UPON ROCK CHAP.
treacherous quick-sands or the swift inrush of the tide. Again,
it is not one rock but two, a hollow rock built by the hands of
men upon the solid rock which nature left as if by accident
upon the shore. And, indeed, this is the secret of its supreme
beauty, that when the plans were arranged for covering its
summit with monastic buildings, the men of genius who then
ruled the abbey avoided the easy method of levelling down
the top of the rock, and built instead a great system of vaults
and walls about it, on which they raised the church with its
cloister and adjacent buildings.
Mont-St.-Michel is, furthermore, as much a fortress as an
abbey; it came to be garrisoned by soldiers as well as monks,
with a governor as well as a prior and abbot ; and it would
supply illustrations for an almost complete history of Gothic
architecture, military, domestic, ecclesiastical. Indeed, one
could find no better place for the study of those processes by
which Gothic art grew and was perfected. Therefore you
should count your visit at this place by days, and not (as
nearly every one does) by hours ; you should go round the
abbey again and again ; and if you want to make a fuller study
of the place than this chapter supplies, you cannot do better
than buy M. Paul Gout's "L'Histoireet F Architecture Franchise
au Mont-St.-Michel," which is on sale everywhere at the
Mount, and will be precious, even to those who have not time to
read it, for its admirable pictures and plans.
The heraldic cockel-shells of the abbey, which you will be
pressed by many smiling importunates to carry away with you
in some form or other, suggest another paradoxical reflection.
St. James the Great owes his attributes to Mont-St.-Michel.
For these attributes have been those of the pilgrim since the
thirteenth century, and it was at Mont-St.-Michel that
the pilgrim learnt to adopt his insignia. The scallops he
gathered on the beach as souvenirs, and thus came to decorate
with this symbol tin* wide Hoak and flapped hat that he wore;
the long staff was to test the firmness of the treacherous sands,
VI
THE FOREST OF SCISSEY
127
Mont'S a-int- Michel,
and the little horn served as a signal for help if the fog or tide
surprised him. The abbey adopted the cockle-shell with
fleurs-de-lys for its arms, and the fine if rather inaccurate
motto Tremor Immensi Oceani.
The history also of Mont-St.-Michel is based upon a curious
element of paradox ; for the natural scientist, instead of being
relegated to the prehistoric ages, overlaps the historian. The
present physical condition of the place came about during the
Christian era. When the Romans ruled in Gaul, the bay was
yet dry ground, traversed over some fourteen miles by one cf
their military roads, and covered by the vast forest of Scissey
i?S ST. AUBERT APPEARS CHAP.
which stretched right away to what are now the Channel
Islands. The Mount was then called (we are told) Mount
Belenus by the Gauls in honour of the sun, and Mons Jovis
by the Romans a name which survived through the middle
ages as Monjou. In the third century the tides began to invade
the low ground so that the Romans were forced to alter the
course of their road. In the fourth century both the Mount
and Tombelaine were isolated at high tide ; and from the sixth
to the eighth century the enlargement of the estuary where they
stood proceeded rapidly. It is said that the great tides of 709
finally swamped the Forest of Scissey and made the great Bay
of Cancale ; but the Chausey islands were not severed from the
mainland till the twelfth century.
History, or rather legend, takes up the tale somewhere about
the sixth century, when certain missionary hermits came to live
in the forests that remained and on the two mounts St. Michel
which was now called Mount Tumba and its lesser neighbour
Tombelaine. Provisions used to be sent them by means of an
ass, till the beast was devoured by a wolf, whereupon in answer
to their prayers the wolf was converted, and patiently undertook
the transport duty he had so thoughtlessly interrupted.
The Mount was desolate enough in those days. Mont-Tombe
seemed just the name for it, though indeed etymology would
refer us to nothing more than a hillock for the true meaning of
/////i, tintiuliis, and Tumba. But when at the end of the next
century it became the property of St. Michael, human life began
to beat upon it and human hands to fashion it to beauty. It
was given to the Archangel in this way :
A young noble named Aubert came into his inheritance, and
immediately divided it into three equal parts. One part he
gave to the Church, one to the poor, and the third he kept for
himself. Then he took holy Orders, and consecrated his life
to the service of (iod and men, till all the country talked of his
snnctity, and when the opportunity came they made him Bishop
of A\ ranches.
vi THE LEGEND OF ST. MICHAEL 129
Now, Mount Tumba being a desolate place and yet within
easy reach of Avranches, the Bishop repaired thither for rest
and meditation ; and when he was in retreat there and alone,
the Prince of the Armies of the Lord appeared to him by night,
and told him to build a sanctuary in his honour on the top of
the Tumba. When day brake, Aubert was much puzzled to
know whether it had been a mere dream or not. So he re-
doubled his prayers, fasting, and alms, and waited. A few days
had passed by when the Vanquisher of the Infernal Serpent
appeared again, and with some sternness repeated his com-
mand. But Aubert, remembering that we are told to try the
spirits whether they are of God, did but continue to pray and
wait. Then the Protector of Holy Church appearing a third
time, reproved him severely, and for a sign touched the Bishop's
head, leaving a hole in the skull where he touched it.
Aubert hesitated no longer, but began at once to build the
Palace of the Angels. Now on the top of the Mount were two
rocks, that stood in the way of the builders, and were so heavy
that none could move them. So St. Michael appeared to a
good peasant named Bain who lived near the coast, and told
him to take his sons to the Mount and move the rocks. The
peasant brought eleven of his children, leaving behind the
twelfth who was an infant. But, try as they might, they could
not stir the rock a hair's breadth. Then Aubert asked if the
peasant had brought all, and he replied, " Yes, all, except for
the baby who is with his mother."
"Go, my friend, and fetch him," said the Bishop, "for God
often chooses the weak to confound the strong."
Bain fetched the child, and held him up in his arms so that
he could touch the obstinate rock with his little foot. As he
did so, it swayed and fell with a great roar down to the bottom
of the Mount. There it lies under St. Aubert's chapel to this
day.
Other miracles are related of the founding of St. Michael's
great church. As that when St. Aubert was in doubt as to
130 FOUNDATION OF THE ABBEY CHAP.
where to build, a heavy dew fell on the Mount and left the
space dry that was to be the site of the church.
But there were no relics as yet for the sacring, wherefore the
Archangel told Aubert to send some monks to Monte Gargano
in the kingdom of Naples, where the famous Apparition of St.
Michael had taken place. The brothers received the Bishop's
blessing, and departed on their long journey. They v/ere
lovingly received by the religious of Monte Gargano, who gave
them two relics to carry back, a piece of the scarlet veil which
the Archangel had left and a fragment of the marble on which
he had stood. During their absence tradition says that the
sea made its last great effort and completed the isolation of
the Mount.
A crowd of people gathered in their train as they returned
through France, and the story goes that one of them, a blind
woman, recovering her sight at the last village on the coast,
cried out, Qifil fait beau voir ! Wherefore that place is called
Beauvoir to this clay, as the map bears witness.
Then, in the year 709, St. Aubert made ready for the sacring.
The relics were put in a casket on the altar, and the church
was dedicated to the glorious Archangel. The Mount was
called the Tombc no longer, but henceforward was known as
Mont-Saint-Michel-ciu-peril-de-la-mer.
Still, the name of Tombelaine was sometimes applied to both
mounts, and only gradually came to be confined to the remoter
of the two.
With a name like Tombelaine in the mouths of a romantic
people, it was inevitable that a story should grow up to provide
an explanation of it in accordance with the peculiar etymology
of such things. As a matter of fact there are two stories, and
here is one of them.
A lady named Helene was betrothed to a knight whom she
deeply loved. But when William the Conqueror descended
upon England, the young warrior set off to accompany him.
HeKne stood- on the Mount to watch his ship depart, and as
vi A TASK FOR FIVE CENTURIES 131
she saw all her happiness passing away across the waters her
grief became greater than she could bear. She stood till she
saw the white sails fade away at the horizon, and then fell
dead. The monks with indulgent sentiment buried her where
she had fallen ; and every year on the anniversary of her death
a white dove comes and hovers over the rock.
St. Aubert's skull became one of the most treasured relics of
the abbey, and remained there till the Revolution, when a
pious doctor saved it from destruction. At the beginning of
the nineteenth century this doctor produced the relic from its
hiding place, and gave it to the diocese of Avranches. It is
now preserved in a reliquary at the church of St. Gervais in
Avranches, and the hole which distinguishes it is of sufficiently
unusual conformation to puzzle the osteologists.
For some time the Mount was only tenanted by St. Aubert's
monks, but when the Normans began to ravage the coast, some
fugitives fled for refuge to the rock, and founded the town
which was destined to survive the convent. If the citizens of
Mont-St.-Michel are anxious to claim a royal origin, they
might put the cruel Hasting and Rollo by the side of the holy
Aubert.
In 966, the monks, having become rich and corrupt, Duke
Richard the Fearless replaced them by Benedictines. In 1017,
Abbot Hildebert II. conceived the colossal scheme of build-
ing upon a platform brought up to the level of the top of the
Mount by means of huge foundations. It is to him, therefore,
that we owe everything, though he only lived to see the ground-
work of a plan that it took five centuries to execute. His
successors laboured on, preserving a unity of conception that
was only possible in a religious community. In 1060, they are
still at the substructure, though by 1080 they are building part
of the nave ; the Crypte de 1'Aquilon was not made till after a
fire in 1112.
With Robert de Torigny, who became abbot in 1154, begins
the next great period of building ; his abbatiate was a golden
K 2
132 A SUCCESSION OF MASTER BUILDERS CHAP.
age for learning and piety as well as architecture. But the
western towers and porch which he made have since fallen, and
little remains of his work but the buildings that lay below them.
In 1203, the Bretons burnt the town and all the abbey
buildings on that side of the Mount. The Abbot, Jourdain,
turning the loss to gain, planned out the Merveille, and by his
death in 1212 had built the lowest story of that wonderful
edifice the Cellier and Aumonerie. Once more, the unity of
the original conception was faithfully kept by succeeding abbots.
Abbot Raoul des Isles (1212-18) continued the work, in spite
of revenues cut off by spiteful Lackland ; and while the English
barons were struggling for Magna Charta, the next story, the
Salle des Hotes and Salic des Chevaliers were a-building.
The next abbot, Thomas des Chambres (1218-25), went on
with the top story of the Merveille, built the Refectory, and com-
menced the cloister. In 1228, the year of the canonisation of
St. Francis, the cloister was finished. The whole Merveille
had taken just a quarter of a century to erect.
It became increasingly necessary to protect so rich an abbey.
Richard Tustin, abbot in 1236, had built by 1257 Belle-Chaise,
the structure that covers the entrance and contains the Salle
des Gardes. He also built the high Tour Nord, of the city
ramparts. Needless to say, during the next century the work
of fortification continued ; it was the age of the Hundred
Years War, and early in the century the abbey received a
garrison and a governor. In 1356 the English began the
occupation of Tombelaine, and for years the Mount was in a
state of siege. Then, in 1386, came another great abbot,
Pierre le Roy. He built behind Belle-Chaise the tower that is
called after him Tour Perrine ; and in front of Belle-Chaise he
raised the formidable Chatelet, through which visitors still
enter the abbey. He further protected the Chatelet with a
barbican, now ruined, and a covered approach. After the
Battle of Agincourt (1415) the English at Tombelaine became
more threatening ; then Abbot Robert Jolivet completed the
vi THE ABBEY A FORTRESS 133
ramparts, drawing the noble line of curtains and bastions from
the Tour du Nord right round to the Tour du Roi at the
entrance of the town. It is curious to think that all this work
was done under the jealous eyes of an English garrison not two
miles away.
In 1423, the English made a determined assault on the
Mount, aided now by Jolivet, abbot, warrior, and traitor.
They were repulsed. In 1434 (four years after the death of
Jeanne d'Arc), they made a last supreme effort ; eight thousand
men attacked the heroic city, a breach was made in the Bar-
bican ; the English, rushing in, began to scale the town wall,
when the garrison came out against them ; another party
dropped through the posterns of the eastern ramparts and
took them in flank. After a combat of singular ferocity, the
English were driven off. Two of their cannon lie in the Cour
de 1'Avancee, the first objects that a visitor sees,
When the Hundred Years War was over (1453), the abbey
was well-nigh ruined by its efforts. Yet a great work lay
before it; while the English were threatening (1421), the choir
of the abbey church had fallen with a terrific noise, and now
that peace had come at last, the Cardinal-abbot d'Estouteville
made the crypt of the Gros-Piliers, laying thus the foundations
of the magnificent Flamboyant choir. This was with the help
of Louis XL, who founded the Order of St. Michael here in
1469, and held the first chapter of its knights in the Salle des
Chevaliers. The Cardinal died in 1482, and two brothers,
abbots in succession, Guillaume and Jean de Lamps, con-
tinued piling up the choir. By 1520 it was finished, and the
crown laid on Mont-St.-Michel. It was only just in time.
The new order in the person of Frangois-Premier paid a visit
to the Mount in 1518.
Decadence came in swiftly now with the commendatory
abbots. The first of these wolf-shepherds, Cardinal Le Veneur
(1523), anxious to increase his revenue, hit upon the ingenious
plan of reducing the number of monks "to have less to
134 THE ABBEY A PRISON CHAP.
nourish." Then war settled again upon the abbey-fortress, the
War of Religion. The Huguenots were attacking the abbey
from without in 1591 (as you will read later on), while another
commendatory Cardinal, de Joyeuse, was sucking its life-blood
within. In 1615 a polite writer tells us that "God, regarding
this poor abbey with favourable eyes, inspired the king,
Louis the Just, to choose " Whom do you think ? Henri de
Lorraine, a child of five years, to be its abbot. In 1622 came,
here as elsewhere, the Reform of St. Maur. They were ex-
cellent men, these reformed Benedictines of St. Maur, but
somewhat given to vandalism.
The abbey ended in an irony of hollow splendour. The
last abbot was Cardinal Louis-Joseph de Montmorency-Laval,
Bishop of Metz, and Grand Almoner of France. Then came
the Revolution.
Whatever the virtues of the French Revolution, it was
certainly deficient in humour as well as indifferent to beauty.
The abbey was turned into a prison, and for the avoidance of
superstition its name was altered to Mont-Libre !
Its first prisoners were three hundred aged priests ; then in
the nineteenth century came a succession of political offenders,
among whom Barbes is famous for having jumped on to the
rocks in a vain effort to escape. It was not till 1863 that the
prison was suppressed, and by then the splendid pile was
reduced to a state of almost hopeless ruin.
The period of restoration began in 1865, when the abbey
was leased by the Bishop of Avranches who lent it to some
missionary Fathers. In 1872 the Government took it over, and
continued the works of restoration on an enormous scale. If
we judge the case on its merits, I think it must be admitted
that this restoration has been both necessary and intelligent.
The place was too far gone structurally for mere passive pre-
servation ; but its detail, thanks to the hard granite, gave no
excuse for destruction, and the building anew of those parts
which had fallen gives us an opportunity of realising the
VI
KING POULARD
135
ensemble of this mason's mount. Other places have detail as
beautiful, but nowhere else is there such an entirety.
Thus, the history of Mont-St-Michel may be divided into
three periods. In the first, it was ruled by an abbot, and that
was the longest period. In the second, it was governed by a
. tea .
*
Chez Poulard A inc.
gaoler, and that period was sordid and short. Now, restored
and frequented, it is the domain of King Poulard.
He presides over a fireplace of medieval splendour, where a
dozen chickens turn slowly on two spits before a great log fire,
while Madame, his Queen, receives us, her subjects, with that
untiring, unruffled graciousness that is the mark of great person-
ages. Yet King Poulard is not free from the misfortune which
has beset so many Norman monarchs. His own flesh and
blood are against him ; and bitter is the feud between the
retainers of the rival hotel-keepers, Poulard Jeune and Poulard
Aine. As an instinctive Legitimist I have always paid my court
to the elder line ; and of that I can say that, had the Bourbons
levied no heavier taxes, no royal blood would ever have stained
the guillotine, and this very Mont-St-Michel might have been
Benedictine still. Indeed, one of the princely traits about the
136 THROUGH THE GATES CHAP.
Poulards is that you need not pay at all unless you like. When
the time comes to take your leave, there is no bill : you have to
remember what you have had. The system works well, " Every
one is honest who comes to the Mont," said the genial waiter
to me, "St. Michel nous protege." Whereat I remembered one
of the miracles that were wrought here in ancient times, thus
described by old Dom Huynes in the heading of a chapter,
Plu sie urs person ties ayans disne et n'ayans de quoy payer leur escot,
r/wstellier cst pave miraculeusement"
When you arrive at the Mount you will naturally go straight
up the single street of this most curious town. We will leave
the abbey for the present then, turning off when we come to
its entrance by the top of the street, and coming back by the
ramparts.
The outer gate was once protected from the rush of cavalry
by a palisade that ran across from the acute angle of the wall
on our right, as we stand on the wooden bridge which now
gives access from the road. At high tides visitors are brought
in boats right through this gate and landed in the Cour de
i'Avancee, the first court, where now is the stable for our
bicycles. A glance round will show you what a tight place this
Avancee was for an invader. The second gate leads into the
Barbican, which opposed a second court to those who tried to
force their way into the town. This barbican is now taken up
by the Hotel Poulard- Aine : its kitchens and offices are on
the left ; on the right a multitude of modern pilgrims, with
kodaks instead of gourds, sit at little tables over their bocks and
absinthe. The third gate, the Porte du Roi, over which is a
guard-room, has a fragment of portcullis still projecting from
its outer arch : it leads into the town, the single street of old
houses which were mostly hostelries for pilgrims ages ago, and
are still devoted to a like purpose.
Still too, as of old the shops sell beads and shells and objeis
tic picte to the crowds of strangers who pass between them ;
only the wares are now more numerous, and besides priests in
VI
MODERN PILGRIMS
mfftf^
W$-z
Iplfi
Mi 1 -'
137
</
Mont-St. -Michel.
their cassocks, and countrymen in their blouses, and quiet nuns
and fat matrons, there are Englishmen in Norfolk jackets, and
Frenchwomen in immense knicker-bockers to remind us that
the world has moved. The curious old signs are gone, of the
" Lycorne " which bestrides the street, the " Pot de Cuivre," the
u Quatre-fils-Aymon 3 " " La Truie que File " by the abbey
13*
OLD HOSTELS
CHAP.
barbie a n ,
where the
soldiers used
to drink, and
"La Syrene, ;>
though this
last has its
name written
upon it. A
house in the
upper part of
the town is
famous as the
residence of
Du Guesclin's
wife, but there
is little left
of it that has
any interest.
The parish
church rests
its chancel on
the street, and
an archway
underneath
leads up to
the cemetery.
Many lamps
and candles burn under the scutcheons and banners of its
dark nave and single aisle, before the silvered St. Michael
and before the black Madonna, which was set up in 1868 in the
Crypte des Gros Fillers as a memorial of the original Vierge
^\ T oi/'c that miraculously escaped the fire of 1 1 12.
At the top of the street steps lead up to the abbey on our
left. We can look over the ramparts, at the strange little forest
t. Mont-St.-Miciicl.
vi ON THE RAMPARTS 139
which so hardily covers the north side of the Mount under the
grand pile of the Merveille. We are here on the chemin-de-
ronde^ and we will follow it as it goes downward along the
ramparts which stretch round the eastern side of the town. It
is a magnificent wall, of tremendous height at this its south-
eastern part, swelling into great bastions here and there, and
crowned with a beautiful machicolation throughout its length.
We can peer down through the chinks (narrowed now in most
places) of the machicolation, and see how the wall " batters "
outwards at its base. In all the towers we can see the traces
of the floors which divided them into stories, and the later
embrasures which were made for the use of cannon ; in some
there are fireplaces. The first and highest of these bastions is
the Tour du Nord ; the next is the angular Tour Boucle, with
its subsidiary bastion a little further on : then, having always
the queer houses and yards of the town on our right, we come
to a low separated tower, the Tour Basse, which was remodelled
in the eighteenth century. The next is called the Tour de la
Liberte ; and then, when we have passed round a guard-house
and watch-tower, a flight of steps from the roofed passage or
alure round the Tour du Roi takes us down again to the Porte
du Roi, and the domain of King Poulard.
All the way we have had a splendid view of the great bay,
the Baie de Cancale ; and it is from the Tour du Nord that we
can best see one of the most striking sights of Mont-St- Michel,
the incoming tide. For we are near Granville, which is the
point where the tides have wider scope than anywhere else on
the coasts of Europe. The waters of the North Sea, concen-
trated by the resistance of the Cotentin, meet those of the
Ocean off the Cap de la Hague and sweep down into the Bay of
Cancale. At low tide the sea lies far away (more than seven
miles) from the Mount, at the spring tides it rises as much as
sixteen yards, and twice every day it has to cover the huge tract
of sand, three hundred square kilometres, in a few hours. It is
estimated that the bay receives in six hours 1,345 millions of
140
THE MASCARET
CHAP.
Che inin iic Rondc, Mont-St.-Michel.
cubic metres of water, which comes in at the speed of a race-
horse. This inward rush of the waters is called the mascaret.
At first all is still. The brown sands, scribbled over with
blue rivers and tinned into bright green near the land, stretch
out to the distant wooded shores of the bay, which sweep round
from Avranches on its hill to the rocky headland of Carolles
vi HIGH TIDES 141
that just hides Granville out of sight. The sea seems to lie
far out of reach, and near its horizon are the Chausey islands,
looking like a misty procession of dim sea monsters. Then
gradually the water begins to creep round the solitary rock of
Tombelaine, till it becomes an island ; though still the river at
our feet runs busily seaward, as if determined to carry out its
duties to the last moment. But it meets its old adversary at an
edge of foam which is now gliding up rapidly from the distance,
escorted by a cohort of white sea-birds. As the bore advances
it spreads, tears over the crumbling banks of the vanquished
river, throws thin films of water along the sand, rushes
down little momentary water-falls to regain its level, and at
last comes dashing up against the rocks of Mont-St.-Michel.
Then it wheels round in turbid conquest of the sand, till it has
covered all with a restless surface of water, flecked with foam.
That water is now a light brown colour turning to blue, and on
its surface the westering sun throws a shadow of the Mount,
the spire and the pinnacled apse, the Merveille, a tree, and the
bit of rampart where we stand, a huddled picture with the
proportions of a monkish drawing in some old missal.
We have in our walk over the ramparts gained some idea of
the abbey, and it will be best, before we go into it, to finish the
survey by making a journey round the Mount, so that we may
know where we are when we are taken over the complicated
labyrinth of three stories which forms the abbey buildings. At
low tide this journey can be made on foot, with the exception
of two streams which are generally crossed on the back of a
fisherman : at high tide visitors are rowed round in a boat, and
unfortunate are those who miss this chance of seeing the waves
beat on the rocky base of St. Michael in Peril of the Sea.
Before we start, let us look at the Mount from the road.
We are on the south side : consequently the length of the
church is before us on the top of the hill, its pinnacled choir
on the right and its plain nave on the left of the new tower
and spire. Beyond the nave stands the scaffolding by which
I 4 2 SURVEY OF THE MOUNT CHAP.
stone is drawn up for the restoration works on to the platform
that lies before the west front. In front of the nave is the
smaller platform called Saut Gaultier, where we shall stand
anon. From the building on which this platform rests there
runs the slope along which the great wheel drew up its charges :
this fixes another internal point for us. The great square
buttressed mass of buildings that lies under the church is the
Petit and Grand Exil (so named in the prison days) which
contain the Abbots' and the Governor's houses. The Grand
Exil is marked by the arches that connect its buttresses; it
stretches round on the south to a square tower, the Tour
Perrine, beyond which can just be seen the slender arcade of
Belle-Chaise which contains the Salle des Gardes where we
shall wait for our guide later on. All the abbey buildings stand
clear above the houses of the town, below which runs the
machicolatcd outer wall, disappearing round the east side over
the Tour Basse.
Our boat will start from the town gate, and go westward.
We shall notice that the Mount has three sides : first a rocky
side, then a wooded side, and then (as we come back to the
road from which we started) the side of the town. First we
pass the Barracks, built in 1828 for the prison soldiers, and
now used by the workmen of the restoration. The old walls
have gone at this part, but the Tour Gabriel remains ; it dates
from the sixteenth century, and is pierced with embrasures for
three tiers of cannon ; a windmill used to stand on it, but now
it is used as a light-house.
Next, on a rock that projects from the Mount, is the plain
chapel of St. Aubert, monument of the babe's miracle. Beyond
the Chapel of St. Aubert lies the north side of the Mount,
draped with its miniature forest. A stone hut on the shore
rovers all that remains of the Fontaine St. Aubert, the spring
that arose at the prayer of the Saint, and formed the sole water
supply of the monks down to the fifteenth century, when the
cisterns were made. It was once protected by a strong tower.
A JOURNEY ROUND THE MOUNT
and connected
with the ram-
parts by an em-
battled stair-
case, so that the
precious supply
of water might
be safe. The
barrels were
hauled along a
boarding up
the stairs, then
rolled to the
walls of the
Merveille and
hoisted up to
the Cellar by
the usual
wheel-windlass.
It is needless
to say that the
fortified foun-
tain became
valuable as an
outpost and a
sort of postern
by which sorties
could be made
and supplies admitted. Fresh water has always been scarce
at the Mount, and it is still bought and sold in the street,
whither it is now brought from the neighbouring villages.
While we are on this north side we can fix for ourselves the
plan of the Merveille. It is composed of two huge buildings,
held up by buttresses that die away on to the " batter " at the
base. The eastern building has a higher roof, which covers
The Mervcillc, Mont-St. -Michel.
144
OUTSIDE THE MERVEILLE
CHAP.
the Refectory, easily recognised by its peculiar range of narrow
windows close together. The story below this is the Salle des
Hotes, its lights in pairs between the buttresses that do not
reach beyond this story, since their support is not needed for
the light wooden roof of the Refectory. The lowest story is the
< ^- '\lfi\-lPM ' s'Wr^ -.,
The Ramparts, Mont-St. -Michel.
Almonry. The western building has no roof, for its top story
is the open cloister, marked by a row of very small windows.
Helow are the two tiers of windows which light the Salle des
Chevaliers ; the upper tier is varied by two circular openings,
the lower by the two Tudor-looking bay-windows that give
light and air to the isolated latrines a triumphant com-
bination of use and beauty. The lowest story is the Cellar,
which is sufficiently lighted by plain narrow openings. The
other buildings which we saw from the road are not shown to
visitors, but the Merveille is ; and it contains perhaps the finest
(iothic rooms in the world. They are often misnamed, as
vi PLAN OF THE MERVEILLE 145
their original destination has been changed more than once,
and it is easy to confuse them. Let us then be quite clear as
to the arrangement :
Refectory (Rtfectoire). Cloister (Cloitre).
Salle des Hotes. Salle des Chevaliers.
Almonry (Aumonerie). Cellar (Cellier).
Continuing our circuit to the east and south-east of the
Mount, we are now on the town side, which is protected by
the ramparts whereon we have already walked. Just over the
Tour du Nord are the twin crenellated towers of the Chatelet
which guards the entrance to the abbey ; and as we go round
we see its east side, beyond which Belle Chaise comes again
into view. Below the town we follow the outside of the walls
with the Tour Boucle, its bastion, and the Tour Basse, the
Tour de la Liberte, and the Tour du Roi, next to which is
the road whence we started.
The external features of the Merveille are made perfectly
clear by the elevations of M. Corroyer, which are also repro-
duced in M. Gout's book. By their study you can realise the
perfection of this thirteenth century Gothic. It is the majesty
of perfection that makes the proud strength of the pile more
winning and more moving than all the triumphs of conscious
decoration. What is there but just huge walls, and buttresses
constructed to bear the thrust of vaults, and windows arranged
to suit the purposes of a dining-room, reception and work-
rooms, latrines, of a cellar for provisions, a cloister for exer-
cise ? There is not a feature that does not serve some necessary
purpose, not a dimension that is not seemingly inevitable,
given the stature of a man and the needs of a monastery ; no
ornamentation, no straining after effect The vanity and
theatricalism of French art have not yet come to mar its
logical power and lucid expression.
It is the same with the town ramparts that next come into
sight. The architects seem to have had nothing in view but
L
I 4 6 USE AND BEAUTY CHAP.
the practical needs of defence and to have found beauty with-
out seeking it. They wanted to make the Mount inviolable ;
and they succeeded utterly, for it was never taken. The
beauty just happened. For beaut) 7 , the sense of form, of
colour, of proportion, is natural to man, and only driven from
the air we breathe by moral decay. Had the builders of these
walls not set themselves with patience, courage, and singleness
of devotion to their gigantic task, had avarice led them to stint
the thoroughness of their masonry, or egoism broken the
unity of their fellowship, the beauty would not have flowed
into their work like this. They were free from the self-con-
scious vanity and shifting caprice which came in after years to
throw a passing charm upon the face of architecture and to rot
it at the heart. As the Renaissance developed, that momentary
charm (which had indeed owed everything to traditions of
honest workmanship) gradually fell away before the blindness
of pride and the weakness of caprice, and was driven from the
palace to the cottage, to survive only here and there in humble
far-off things. This you may notice as you stand by the
crowded shops in the Mount to-day, and find nothing beauti-
ful to buy but the very cheapest kind of rustic Breton earthen-
It would seem that nothing else but our own faults destroys
the sense of beauty which should be a natural instinct. We
often hear science set up, and the spread of invention, as our
excuse. But if we used our inventions honestly, frankly, faith-
fully, they would not destroy the beauty of what we create.
Indeed, there could be no better example of the scientific
spirit than Mont-St.-Michel itself; science and art came to it
as from one hand, and one hardly knows whether to call these
medieval builders architects or engineers.
\\V are now ready to visit the abbey without becoming
mi-ddlrd. It is approached at present by the chemin-de-ronde^
as the- old fortified staircase, the Grand Degre, is in ruins. We
stand first in the ruined barbican (not the town barbican, of course,
VI
THE CHATELET
147
but that of the abbey), the outer line of defence. Before us
are the twin towers of the fourteenth century Chatelet ; on our
right is the eastern end of the Merveille with the graceful
Tour des Corbins at its south-east angle. There was surely never
devised a more imposing entrance to a castle than the Chatelet,
through which the steps lead up to the Salle des Gardes.
The interior of the Chatelet was a salk de guet, and there is a
recess just outside the Salle des Gardes with a little window for
observations. The Salle des Gardes, which we now enter, is
an irregular chamber broken up by steps which follow the
natural declivity of the rock : it has seats in the windows where
the soldiers on guard could sit and watch the shores. It was
built in the thirteenth century, and forms the lower story of Belle-
Chaise, of which the upper story is the Salle du Gouvernement
where the officers of the garrison could meet to discuss their
plans. In the Salle des Gardes we shall sit and wait for the
guide who takes visitors round in small parties (between 8 and
n, 12.30 and 6), giving intelligent explanations at the more
interesting points. The visit takes an hour : it would take twice
as long if all the buildings were visited ; but, as it is, more is
shown than can possibly be remembered, and we shall do well
to make the tour more than once. There is no charge, only
an upturned palm at the end of the visit.
The main points in order of the visit are Salle des Gardes
(E), Saut-Gaultier (S.W.), Church, Cloister and Refectory (N.
side), then down to the Crypte de 1'Aquilon (N.W.), further down
to the Cachots (the prisons), across under the nave by the
Charnier to the great wheel (under Saut-Gaultier), back to the
north side, Salle des Chevaliers and Salle des Hotes ; Crypte,
des Gros Piliers (under choir), then through the two lowest
rooms of the Merveille and out through the Cour de la Merveille
to the Salle des Gardes again.
Starting for the platform of Saut-Gaultier, we have the great
buttresses of the apse on our right, and on our left the abbot's
house and other dwellings known as the Grand and Petit
L 2
148
INSIDE THE ABBEY
CHAP.
Fntravcc IP the AM>cy, Mont-St, -Michel.
Kxil. They arc not at present shown to visitors. Two bridges
KTOSS the strange ravine gave the abbot access to the church ;
the stone one brought him to the eglisc basse, the restored
wooden one led to the cgtise haute. Passing on the right a
room with pretty windows and mouldings, we come on to
the platform to look at the view of the coasts of Normandy and
Brittany, which are separated by the little stream Couesnon.
vi SAUT GAULTIER 149
The platform owes its name to a story that was told far back
in the Middle Ages of un certain Gaultier, qui, desireux
de montrer a son amante combien il la cherissait, se precipita
du sommet dun rocher trls eleve dans les profondeurs de la
iner, d'oii il advint que ce lieu, qui se trouve en Normandie, est
encore appele Saut-Gaultier. It was from here that Barbes
tried to escape in 1842, but, having provided himself with too
short a rope, was recaptured, much damaged by his fall.
The church is in the hands of the restorers, who have built
a new tower and copper-covered spire, surmounted by a gilt
statue of St. Michael by M. Fremiet (it is spirited but a bit
theatrical), and are now engaged upon the upper part of the
choir. The condition of the Norman nave shows how
inevitable restoration had become : some of its capitals are
in plaster, and its crumbling vault is a sham of plaster and
wood. Only four bays remain ; the foundations of the other
three are under the pavement beyond the eighteenth-century
west front.
This chapter is already too long for me to attempt a
detailed description of the church and the buildings that
cluster round it. Those who have the time must read the third
part of M. Paul Gout's book, which I have already mentioned.
It is one of the sanest and truest architectural criticisms in the
French language. M. Gout uses the intimate knowledge he has
gained in the work of restoration to explain the real structural
significance of the various features. The public, for instance,
goes into raptures over the lightness of the stone-work of the
fifteenth century choir : yet its real excellence lies in a certain
cunning sturdiness and simplicity that conspires with the hard
nature of the stone. Again, in extolling the famous Escalier de
dentelle of the choir, an ingenious and beautiful combination of
flying buttress and staircase, people forget the main beauty of
the exterior. The real interest, says M. Gout, lies much more
'''dans la puissante tenue et V expressive nettete de la conception
generate" There is no decadent gracility in this example of
/irer, Moni-St.-Mifhel.
CHAP, vi FAULTLESS FORESIGHT 151
late Gothic. Its triforium, so pretty in appearance, is really
arranged just to give the surest support to the weight of vault
above. The Norman builders, for all their massive masonry,
could not risk the pressure of a vault upon their nave ; but the
later architects, with their finished science of thrust and
counter-thrust, could throw up their vault at this great height,
and rest the whole mass upon the buttresses and the Crypte
des Gros Piliers. The effect at first sight is one of daring :
but in reality it is due to an " impeccable prevoyance." Everything
shows (again to quote M. Gout) " une pens'ee nette, une mam sure,
une experience consomm'ee" as well as a perfect sense of form
and proportion.
Visitors are taken from the church to the Cloister and
Refectory, which form the top story of the Merveille (pp. 144-6).
You have already studied it from the outside ; now you can
realise how it lifts up on its shoulders a platform which enabled
the monks to walk from their church to their cloister just as if
both lay upon the broad fields. The church lies poised upon
the summit of the rock, four bays of its nave and one of its
choir resting upon the rock itself, the remainder upon a floor
that is supported by the eastern and western crypts. Thus
the builders of the Merveille carried on Hildebert's daring
plan of raising a great artificial table-land, and they meant
to extend it even further by a chapter-house, the entrance to
which you can still see on the west side of the Cloister.
It is not necessary to point out the extreme beauty of the
sculpture which is lavished upon the Cloister ; this, and the
remarkable lavatory, and the little windows that look out upon
the sea, you cannot fail to notice. Every one sees that the
Cloister is one of the loveliest jewels of the Early French period.
But notice also the wise disposition of the double arcade, by
which the roof and arches (these last of Caen stone to admit of
finer carving) are supported with absolute security upon the
slender granite shafts.
The Refectory was used by the monks of St. Maur in the
152 THE REFECTORY CHAP.
seventeenth centuiy as a dormitory, but there can be no doubt
that it \vas originally built for meals, and it is probable that
the dormitory then formed part of the building that once stood
against the north aisle of the church ; so that dormitory,
cloister, lavatory, refectory, and church were all conveniently
grouped on the wonderful plateau, to which a chapter-house
was to have been added. Furthest from the door of the
Refectory stood the abbot's table ; near at hand the pulpit for
the reader is contrived in the arcade, and at the south west
corner there was a lift by which provisions could be hauled up
or the leavings let down for distribution in the Almonry.
Looking down the hall you will notice that, though it is full of
light, no windows are visible. This beautiful effect is also
governed by structural reasons. It was important not to lay
more weight than necessary upon the lower stories of the
Merveille. On one part there is the cloister which is light
enough ; but here a large roofed chamber had to be built. A
stone vault would have been heavy, and besides the architect
wanted all the height he could get out of the roof; so he
made a plain barrel vault of wood. The pressure is therefore
uniform on the walls, and not gathered up at certain points.
What was wanted to resist this pressure was an unbuttressed
wall of uniform thickness, and as light as possible. A man
working with preconceived notions would have grouped his
windows in the usual way between imaginary buttresses ; but
instead we find an unbroken range of narrow lancets, which
reduce considerably the weight of the wall but leave it great
horizontal strength. I feel sure the planner of this original
device also remembered how beautiful would be the effect of
distributed light when the work was done.
The Salle des Chevaliers, perhaps the finest Gothic chamber
in the world, is under the Cloister, supporting the cloister
floor on its vault. Whether it is named after the Order of St.
Michael or the hundred and nineteen knights who came here
to defend the Mount against the English, it seems certain that
vr THE MONKS' WORK-ROOM 153
it was built to serve as a great work-room for the monks.
Here it was, with plenty of light and air, with immense fire-
places for winter months, and with sanitary arrangements that
would satisfy the most exacting inspector of to-day, that they
wrote and illuminated and studied the volumes which won for
this abbey the name of the City of Books. Gothic principles
of construction are here in full play ; the weight of the plat-
form above is concentrated by the vaulting on to the pillars
whose abaci take the ribs with so satisfactory an air of strength,
and huge buttresses climb up the wall outside to catch the
resultant side thrust. Gothic flexibility will be evident, too,
when you notice that, in spite of its look of finished symmetry,
the Salle des Chevaliers is irregular in shape. The vaulting
of its northern aisle had to be so managed as to fit in with the
receding wall that the older buildings under the transept had
left. And it all had to be fitted into the native rock : this
southern row of pillars does rest on the rock itself, while the
two outer rows stand exactly over the pillars of the Cellier
beneath, to which they transmit their burden through the
distributing medium of another vault.
The other room of this second story has been fixed by
M. Gout as the Salle des Hotes, mainly because it communi-
cated directly with the outside and with Belle-Chaise by means
of its side porch, and was disconnected from the monastic
quarters, the two staircases and the lift passing straight from
the Almonry to the Refectory without discharging into this
room on the way. It was once richly decorated, and its three
large fireplaces, as well as the beauty of its single range of
slender columns, point to its being intended both for comfort
and for dignity. Here, then the great folk who flocked to the
Mount were entertained with the ceremony due to their rank :
they were forbidden by the rule of St. Benedict to enter the
rooms reserved for the monks, but they could walk straight
into this hall, leaving their attendants in the porch, after they
had paid their devotions at the adjoining chapel of Ste. Made-
i v f -I'M 11 ' M m '
Town and Abbey, Mont.-St.-Michel.
CHAP, vi THE GUEST CHAMBER 155
leine. Like the other parts of the abbey, the Salle des Hotes
was afterwards defaced and partitioned for the various purposes
to which it was. applied. Under the commendatory abbots,
when discipline was so loose that men and women were
allowed to wander everywhere, it became a plomberie, where
the lead was worked for covering the innumerable stages and
roofs of the abbey. This name has stuck to it, as has also that
of Re'fectoire ; for the monks of St. Maur divided it by a wall
into kitchen and refectory when they turned the real refectory
overhead into a dormitory. In the eighteenth century it
became a factory (as did also the Salle des Chevaliers a little
later) ; then it became a habitation of gaolers, and lastly the
dormitory for the fifty soldiers of the garrison.
The Cellar has three aisles of very unequal width, because
its pillars have to stand directly below those of the Salle des
Chevaliers, while the width of the place is reduced by the
spread of the rock. Furthermore, its height has to be greater
than that of its neighbour, the Almonry, because the Salle
des Chevaliers is not so high as the Salle des Hotes, which is
over the Almonry; and the vaults of those two Salles have
to be on a level to secure the uniformity of the top platform.
This extra height of the Cellier is the reason of its internal
buttresses and massive pillars. Nothing is sought here but
unadorned strength : the one ornament, the impost or rudi-
mentary capital of the pillars, was necessary in order to support
the wooden centering on which a vault is built. The place is
just a cellar, admirably suited for storing provisions. They
were brought in through an opening under the second window,
the hauling being accomplished by a great wheel similar to
that in Notre-Dame-sous-Terre. You can see outside the
window an arch which is set between the two buttresses ; on
this a little draw-bridge rested, projecting sufficiently to allow
the rope to drop clear of the batter of the wall. You have
already seen from the outside how this winding apparatus was
156 THE TRAITOR GOUPIGNY CHAP.
also used to draw up the barrels of water from the Fontaine
Saint-Aubert into the Cellar.
During the Huguenot siege of 1591 it was the cause of a
weird adventure. Two versions have come down to us, of
which I will give you one.
There was a certain meschant et abominable criminel named
Goupigny, who had somehow escaped from Caen, where he lay
under sentence of death, and had taken refuge in St. Michael's
Abbey with the Governor Beausuzay. The Huguenots under
the Sieur de Sourdeval and the Sieur de Montgommery (son of
him of Domfront fame), had failed in every attempt to capture
the impregnable Abbey, when Goupigny came to them and
promised for 200 crowns to admit them into the stronghold by
means of the provision lift. Having concluded his bargain
with the besiegers, he went back and explained his little plan
to the besieged. How many degrees deep he was in treason
we do not know, but we may imagine that his views as to the
religious controversies of the day were impartial, and that he
intended all along not to run the risk of his asylum changing
hands.
On the night arranged it was the Feast of Michaelmas
at eight o'clock, when the monks were chanting their office, the
Sieurs de Sourdeval and Montgommery crept up to the foot of
the embattled staircase from the Fontaine Saint-Aubert, with
two hundred men, hoping to introduce death through the door
which had so often admitted the means of life. The double
traitor, Goupigny, stood above at his post by the windlass, and
called down to the Huguenots to come up, since all was safe.
Then there was a rush for the rope, who should be the first to
enter ; and as they caught hold of it, two and three at a time,
Goupigny entered the wheel and drew them up. As they
reached the doorway, they were led quietly within and stabbed
by the Governor's men. Thus there went seventy-eight of
them, one by one, to their doom, and the garrison amused
VI THE TRAITOR GOUPIGNY 157
themselves by cutting up their bodies like faggots. One only
they spared, a trusty man named Rablotiere, foreseeing that
he might be useful later on.
At length the Huguenots began to wonder at the great silence
that reigned above ; for they could not understand that the
Abbey should be so easily taken. " Are we masters of the
place ? " they called to Goupigny ; and when he answered that
they were, they ordered him to throw down the body of a monk
as a sign that all was well. So the Governor slipped a monk's
dress over one of the dead Huguenots and flung it down to them.
Then the Sieur de Sourdeval was merry, and called to his
colleague, " Allons, Montgommery, c*est a bon ; see how the
monks fly ! " But the Sieur de Montgommery was more prudent,
and begged the other not to go up till they had some further
proof; and, since he knew that their man Rablotiere could be
trusted to the death, they called up for him that he should
speak to them. Now the Governor, as we have seen, had
spared Rablotiere, hoping to put him to some use ; he brought
him, therefore, to the wheel, and promised to let him go free if
he would call down to his master that all was well. But the
brave man was faithful to death, and instead of saying as he
was bid, he cried out to the Huguenots that they were betrayed.
Here the lurid story begins to brighten. There was no more
bloodshed. The horror-struck Huguenots hurried away. The
Governor was touched to the heart by Rablotiere's splendid
act, and gave him back his life for his loyalty. Goupigny, on
the other hand, did not long survive to chuckle over his
cunning ; for he was soon after killed on Tombelaine " et alia
rendre compte devant le Souverain Juge de ses abotninablesforfaits"
In a few months, the Governor, who was more of a soldier
than a theologian, joined the other side, and the Huguenots did
not refuse to shake " that hand so terribly imbrued." The
bodies of the murdered Huguenots were buried just outside
the trap where they had been caught, and their remains were
found during the recent restoration. The two halls, the Cellier
158 ALMONRY AND CRYPTS CHAP.
and the Aumonerie, bear the memory of the event in the
name that is often given them of Montgommeries.
The Almonry (Aumonerie) is the last place that visitors are
shown, and still retains this much of its original purpose that
the guide receives his tips as visitors leave it. Situated near
the entrance of the abbey, it was always well adapted for the
reception of the crowds of poor folk who came up for alms ;
the monks, as we have seen, could send down food straight
from the refectory through the lift in the wall at the south-west
corner, and could also come down to this humble reception
room without touching the intermediate Salle des Hotes where
the grand people were received. Only the narrow Cour de la
Merveille (now given up to photographs and such like) separates
the doorway of the Aumonerie from the Salle des Gardes
whence you started on your rounds.
I have omitted the crypts and other buildings of the under-
world which visitors are taken to on their way between the
stories of the Merveille. The Crypte de 1'Aquilon and the
Promenoir are interesting examples of the development of
Norman architecture in the first part of the twelfth century.
The lower, the Crypte de 1'Aquilon (which is reached by a fine
staircase from the Promenoir) is the earlier of the two ; it has
monolithic pillars, and a groined vault ; but the masonry is so
fixed and massive that the square-edged arches which apparently
support it have really nothing to do, and in some places have
become quite detached from it. This structural anomaly is
remedied in the Promenoir, where the groins are supported by
ribs, and the true principles of Gothic economy appear ; yet
even here the walls are still in the old massive form, as if they
had to carry a heavy barrel vault, instead of their strength
being concentrated at the points where the vaults throw their
weight. The Promenoir served as a cloister before the Mer-
veille was built.
You will next be taken further down to the Caehots, the
hideous and awful dens which are mainly attributable to that
vi DUNGEONS 159
sinister prince of dungeons, Louis XL I almost wish they
were not shown, for they crowd out the glories of the abbey in
the memory of nearly every visitor. " Mont-St.-Michel,"
people will say, " Oh, yes, it's on a hill, and there are horrid
dungeons and a great wheel." Yet one terrible piece of
history must be told, that of Dubourg, who was kept down
here in a cage, if only because you are certain to hear it
turned inside out by some amateur of romance.
Posterity has been much kinder to Dubourg than he was to
his contemporaries. It has painted him as an inflexible hero,
a Dutch Protestant who was torn from his loving family by
Louis XIV. But as a matter of fact, he was born in the first
year of Louis XV and, therefore, could not have been impris-
oned by the Great Monarch. He was a scoundrelly black-
mailer, and therefore not a hero who for conscience sake
refused to stay his pen. He was a Catholic, and therefore not
a Protestant. He was a Frenchman of good family, and
therefore not a Dutchman, He was a bachelor, and therefore
his farewell letter to wife and children is a figment. He
was not caged in iron for five years as the guide-books say, but
in wood for one year and ten days.
Dubourg started as a brilliant young writer in Paris ; then
he mixed himself up in politics, hid away in Frankfort, and
from that asylum wrote venomous libels against the French
court, under the pseudonyms UEspion Chinois and Mandarin.
He was not the first to satirise his countrymen under the guise
of an intelligent Oriental travelling in Europe; Montesquieu
had published the Lettres Persanes when Dubourg was a boy of
six, and indeed this form of literature had become fashionable.
But his satire was far from being of the usual innocent descrip-
tion. He took German pay, and he was not ashamed to ask
openly for blackmail. " There is only one way," he wrote in one
his publications, " to make the pen drop from my hands, and
that is to dazzle my eyes with gold." He took no pains, how-
ever, to conceal his identity. The French agents easily tracked
i6o
DUBOURG THE SLANDERER
CHAP.
him to his hiding place, arrested him, and brought him to Mont-
Saint-Michel in 1 745. He soon discovered that it was useless to
deny his writings. Indeed he behaved very gently, realising at once
A Passage, Mont.-St, Michel.
that his case was hopeless, though he could hardly have imag-
ined the fate that was in store for him.
He was put into one of those cages which still existed in France.
The horrible things had been invented by Cardinal Balue for
Louis XI, and that monarch, when he discovered Balue's
treachery, shut him up for ten years to meditate upon the ingen-
uity of his own invention.
These cages were made of thick wooden bars, strengthened
inside and out with iron bands, and so close together that a
man's hand could not pass between them : they were only seven or
eight feet in height and width. Dubourg's cage was put in a dark
cave, where the cold and damp were so awful that his questioners
THE REST OF THE UNDERWORLD
161
could not bear it during their investigation. The monks were
kind to him ; they made him some warm woollen clothing, and
placed planks on the top of the cage to prevent the water
dripping straight on to his body. There he lived alone, caged
up in the gloom for a year, till he went mad. For twelve days
he refused to eat, and then died '"sans repentir, et en desespoir,
apres avoir dec hire tons ses habits"
The Charnier, or Charnel-house, was the burial-place of the
monks, who were laid there in quick-lime. It formed the crypt
of the three vanished bays of the nave.
In theChapelle des Trente Cierges, orNotre-Dame-sous-Terre,
is the great wheel. It was made during the modern prison
times, and was worked by the prisoners themselves, but it is on
the model of the ancient ones, and was used like them to draw
up provisions by means of the poulain.
The Crypte des Gros Piliers, called also the Eglise Basse to
distinguish it from the church itself which was called Eglise
Haute, is the strong and beautiful undercroft of the choir. It
was used as a chapel, and in it was kept the wooden statue of
our Lady which had miraculously escaped from the fire of 1112.
In recent times another statue was placed here, as we have
seen (p. 138).
I should like to end this chapter with something cheerful,
and therefore will tell you the story of another Huguenot
attempt upon the Mount. It was in 1577, some time before
Montgommery's failure, that a Protestant chief, Le Touchet,
conceived a daring stratagem for securing the impregnable
fortress. He established himself some two leagues from the
Mount, and sent on a body of about twenty soldiers disguised
as merchants. The audacious band arrived at the city gate as
pilgrims, laid down their arms according to custom, and then
put up their horses, abstracting from their packs another set of
weapons which they concealed about their persons. It is sig-
nificant of the manners of sixteenth century pilgrims that they
next proceeded to carouse with the soldiers of the garrison
M
162
THE STORY OF LE TOUCHET
CHAI
without exciting any suspicion. The following morning these
worthies went up to the church and heard several Masses with
great devotion. Some then joined their good friends of the
garrison to continue their revels of overnight, three went down
vi PILGRIMS OF WAR 163
into the town to be ready for Le Touchet when he arrived, the
others stayed to enjoy the view on Saut-Gaultier. It was now
half past eight of the morning, and Le Touchet was to arrive
at nine. But the adventurers discovered that a young novice
of the abbey had detected their errand ; and deeming that it
would now be fatal to wait, they drew out their arms and set
upon the garrison, killing one and disarming the rest And now
in the glory of success they began to lose their heads ; for,
seeing Le Touchet approaching the town with his men, they
raised a cry of Ville gatgnee / Ville gaignee ! This imprudent
act gave the alarm to the town, which assumed' so threatening
an aspect that Le Touchet retired leaving his gallant pioneers
to their fate. Their command of the abbey, however, saved them ;
and when they surrendered in the afternoon, they were allowed
to go quietly away, without their arms but with " qitelqv.e argent
monoye qu'on leur donna par composition"
M 2
CHAPTER VII
AVRANCHES, GRANVILLK, COUTANCES, SAINT-L6
I CANNOT help thinking that Avranches is a rather over-rated
place, and I do not understand why so many English people
stay there. It lies prettily on a hill, surrounded by pleasant
country, it is clean and bright, and has good shops and a
View, but its situation is not so good as that of the towns we
have just been passing through, its surroundings are nothing
very wonderful, and the sea is at some distance. With the excep-
tion of a bit of the old fortified city at the north, there is nothing
much to see in the town itself; and as for the View we can
easily enjoy it on our way from Avranches to Granville. The
town was once an important military post, and was called in
the time of the religious wars L'Allumette de La Ligue. In
1639 it was occupied by Jean-nu-Pieds, the mysterious in-
dividual who commanded the Armee de Souffrance, which rose
against the salt-tax in the seventeenth century. Misery had
forced the Norman peasantry to insurrection ; they were crushed
by taxation, their villages were deserted, and many of them had
in (U-sj). -ration become brigands. Yet there was a trace of the
old separatist tradition about their revolt ; it was political as
CHAP, vir THE ARMY OF SUFFERING 165
well as social an attempt to free the province of Normandy
from the domination of the Kings of France and when Jean
Va-nu-pieds marched on the ancient capital of Rouen he was
received with sympathy. But the French crown was not the
weak thing it had once been. The Cardinal de Richelieu was
its servant, or its master, and he struck, as was his wont, without
mercy. The Parlement of Rouen was speedily crushed ; and
Gassion, Marechal de France, was despatched to Avranches
with 4,000 men. The insurgents made a desperate resistance
here ; establishing themselves behind a barricade, they kept
the royal troops at bay for five hours. They fought till only ten
of them were left alive, and then Gassion, with hateful re-
finement of cruelty, determined to disgrace as well as destroy
the brave survivors. He offered to spare the life of any one
who would consent to act as hangman to the others. So it
was : nine laid down their lives and one his honour.
Still Avranches had not seen the last of civil war. In the
struggles of the Chouannerie it was taken by royalists and
republicans in turn, and when the Revolution was over, it had
lost both its ancient bishopric and its cathedral church.
Suppose then that we "do " Avranches on our way to
Granville, with the brutal celerity of the tourist. Our road will
bring us into the town at the Boulevard du Sud ; and in this
we shall have the better of the traveller by rail, who climbs up
to the Plate-forme ; for near us on the left is the Jardin des
Plantes, whence is the famous view of the great bay where
Mont-St. -Michel stands out in the distance like a broken
pyramid. On the north side of the Jardin, which is much
admired for its brown grass and garish geraniums, is the pretty
convent of the Ursuline sisters : it was built in the seventeenth
century for the Capuchins, whose garden this was. The
excellent Joanne provides a map which will guide us to the
Plate-forme, where is an inferior edition of the 'View. It is the
site of the cathedral, which before the Revolution crowned so
finely the hill of Avranches. A pillar of the doorway is all
166
OLD AVRANCHES
CHAP.
that remains. It bears an inscription telling us that here,
before this portal, King Henry II. knelt to receive absolution
Bessaj-^^"- . .. i . '.M 'iigg^ r=^fa==r- -"*> for the murder of
Becket.
There is not
much of interest
in the ci-devant
Bishop's Palace
except the chapel,
which is now the
salle des pas-
perdu s of the
Palais de Justice.
The modern
churches of Av-
ranches need not
detain us ; but
\ve must see the
old streets, the
fragment of the
castle, and the re-
mains of the city
walls which lie
between the Ho-
tel de Ville and
the Promenoir.
There is in espe-
cial one fine gate-
tower to recall
the past glories of
Avranches, and we can ride down from here along the
Boulevard du Nord under the old ramparts till we turn
into the Route de Villedieu and the Route de Granville
with the last and best impression of Avranches. From here
to Granville is a pleasant ride of twenty miles, and on our
vn GRANVILLE 167
way we can turn off to see the beautiful ruins of the Abbey of
la Lucerne.
What a relief it is, after dusty roads and the stifle of streets
to reach the sea, the real sea. Mont-St. -Michel is not the sea-
side ; it is a prodigy in a bay. But Granville is a watering-
place, and the greens even of green Normandy seem dull as we
look at the sheet of infinite emerald which we call the English
Channel. For we have come straight through the big street of
the Ville Basse, and are standing in the narrow passage between
the rocks, the Tranchee-aux-Anglais, so called because it was cut
by the English when they occupied the commanding Rock of
Granville in the days of Henry VI. Now it is the centre of
Granville's gaiety. Fat gentlemen at little tables are drinking
aperatifs to give them an appetite for the dinner which the
Hotel des Bains provides at so moderate a price officers in
cherry-coloured trousers jostle more fat gentlemen in bathing
costume ; little boys hawk about that extraordinary paper the
Petit Journal, and young ladies with hats cocked well over
their foreheads look down from the terrace of the Casino with
the indefinite air of lassitude and superiority that the payment of
a franc brings in its train. If it is high tide, we can jump
straight into six feet of the green water. If it is low tide we
can walk out upon an incredibly broad beach which spreads
away right and left into the distance from the Tranchee-aux-
Anglais. No wonder the sea can drop away so far, for there
is sometimes a difference of forty-six feet between high and
low tide.
It is from the beach when the tide is out that we can see
Granville, the real Granville, la Ville Haute, that lies so charac-
teristically upon its black rock. It stretches, a long narrow
peninsula, right out into the sea, almost, indeed, surrounded
by water, and cut off from the tamer mainland by this same
Tranchee-aux-Anglais. Its old houses cluster on it for all the
world like black crystals ; and towards its extremity a few larger
ones are thrown out, which we can guess to be barracks. The
168
TREASURES OF THE DEEP
CHAP.
strong subdued spire of Notre-Uame breaks the uniform
crystallisation, and a wheel, signal for the sailors, sticks out
oddly at the end, .in case we should ever forget the aspect of this
most characteristic of sea-towns. The beach is covered with
men and children who are digging rapidly in the sand for the
active silvery little fish called lan$on t who has to be seized
quickly and thrown into a basket before he can disappear
again as by magic into the sand. The ilat fields of rock, too,
arc rich with what our schoolbooks used to call the treasures of
the deep, hermit-crabs and anemones, and unknown sea-plants.
Children hunt for shells in the sand, and sail their boats in the
cool, shallow pools. The fisher-folk bait their lines for the
witless sole, and search the nets for the fish they have inter-
cepted at the ebb of the tide, throwing out contemptuously
the white cuttle-fish, who, poor things, can only retort by
squirting their ink futilely over the sand : but the cuttle-fish has
a small cousin in these waters, a strange, bright-reel creature
with green eyes, who spits for all he is worth, and is none the
less taken away to be eaten.
A little suspension bridge spans the Tranchee and leads up
VII
THE DARK CHURCH
169
through modern fortifications to the Rue Notre-Dame, which
runs through curious stone houses to the church. This is the
old town, which stands aloof from the gaieties of Granville,
unchangeable and unspoilt. Soon Notre-Dame comes into view,
and behind it, on the right, the dormered roof of the fine old
barracks.
Notre-Dame, is the mother of Granville, stone of its stone,
like it in its sombre strength, which is but slightly lightened by
Old Town, Granville.
the thick-set spire that dare not tempt the winter storms too
much. Even the pomp of Louis XIII assumed a sober
rusticity when it came to the west front and side portals of
Notre-Dame de Granville, a rusticity that gives a fresh charm
and a homely dignity to its columns and entablatures, for all
that the columns of its northern doorway are of the quaintest
irregularity.
Even in summer time it is almost black inside the grave
church, and only after a while does one discern fisherwomen in
the Granvillais cap, and nuns, here and there in prayer. For
the place is low and unusually long, and the small windows that
are pierced in the bare walls of the Norman choir have been
CONSISTENCY
CHAP.
continued in the later extensions of the primitive building.
The unity between Romanesque, Flamboyant, and Renaissance
parts is indeed the peculiarity of the church. Next to the apse,
where the capitals are carved with rough foliage, are two bays of
the same date but with plain caps ; here the break in the masonry
and arches across the vault proclaim that the choir once ended.
But there are now more bays of it, built in exactly the same
way only that suaver mouldings take the place of the earlier
The Harbour, Gran-'illc.
torus, and the soffits of the arches are no longer angular. Then
comes the nave, with the same round pillars, the same plain
wall-space above, pierced with the same low pointed windows
but in the classical style ! It is very charmingly done, this
Renaissance adaptation : the caps have their square abaci with
projecting corners, and there are square-edged vaulting
shafts. But the builder of the nave was less ambitious than he
who extended the choir, and the result is that the choir is both
broader and longer than the nave. Add to this the rough
wooden pews, 1 which only a sailor could sit in, and it is plain
that (inmville church is as characteristic as Granville town.
Beyond the church lie the barracks, old and new, (how
1 Now restored away, 1904.
vii TOWARDS COUTANCES 171
inferior are the new !) and beyond them an open space, a rope
walk, a powder magazine guarded by a sentry, and a lighthouse
where the rock strikes downwards to stretch its black fingers out
into the sea. Here at the head of the promontory is a wide
view over the water, north, west, and south : it is like standing
on the deck of a great ship. On one side ending in the Rocher
de Cancale is the bay where Mont-St.-Michel lies hidden ; on the
other, the shores wind round in the direction of the great Cot-
entin peninsula. Nearer at hand, at a distance of seven miles,
is the strange archipelago called the lies Chausey, which you
can easily visit from Granville. Some two hundred and fifty
of its three hundred islands sink beneath the wave at high tide.
At all times it is a queer desolate place ; only one island is
inhabited, and the natives live by selling granite and lobsters,
or try to live, for the archipelago was brought up by a specula-
tor who seems to have founded there a complete tryanny. On the
south side of the Roc de Granville is the harbour, three basins
protected by a great jetty. And what harbour is not interesting ?
The jetty, by the way, is of Chausey granite, and so are the
pavements of Paris.
The road to Coutances runs up from the Tranchee-aux-
Anglais and takes leave of the sea after about five miles. At
Quettreville, a village which seems to be all inns, there is a
good unrestored church with a very satisfactory early French
spire ; it is worth while looking up at this spire from close
under the north side. After a while Coutances comes suddenly
into view, lying on the slope of its hill, the Cathedral behind
St. Pierre, where the planes of several hills intersect each other.
It is St. Pierre that we reach first as we climb up the street
whose houses seem on the point of slipping down in one great
avalanche to the valley.
St. Pierre is a strange commentary on the Cathedral. The
great church belongs to a period of freshness and vigour, the
smaller springs from an age of disillusionment. In its western
tower Flamboyance and Classicalism fight for victory, throwing
i;2 SAINT-PIERRE, COUTANCES CHAP, vn
off much pretty stonework in the struggle, and the Renaissance
triumphs by capping the central tower with a pretty series of
cupolas. The central tower is more remarkable : the lower part,
the lantern that we shall see from the inside, is correct and serious
work. It was built in 1550; but in 1580 another man was called
in to finish it, and he did his work as if in contempt of his
predecessor, surmounting a crowd of pilasters and consols with
a spire that looks as if some giant had come and squashed it.
The whole is an architectural joke, and a very quaint and
delightful one too. Within, the church relies almost entirely
upon a series of fantastic gallery fronts for its decorative effect ;
but its most interesting feature is the lantern of which we have
already seen the outside. It is very impressive, very well
proportioned : although the conscientiously arranged classical
detail is a little hidden in this position, and some of the parts
project rather too much for others to be well seen from below,
we cannot help feeling admiration as well as surprise at this
ingenious attempt to adapt the new architecture to an old
purpose.
The Cathedral is justly regarded as one of the finest in
France. It is so typical an example of the Early French style
in all its purity and strength that one is amazed to think that,
even in the fifties, there should have been any discussion as to
whether it belonged to the eleventh or the thirteenth century.
The nave chapels alone brought to a complete building of the
first half of the thirteenth century some slight modifications of
the next age.
The air of distinction which marks the Cathedral, is best
shown in its three towers. The two at the west are almost
alike not quite, though, for when could a Gothic architect
suppress his inventiveness enough to effect an exact repro-
duction ? They have scaly stone spires, and a little stone
pyramid caps each of the multitude of slim turrets which
cluster round the large towers and round the two subsidiary
stair towers at the external angles. The little turrets are adorned
-S"//Vr of St. Pierre, Coutances.
174
THE CATHEDRAL
CHAP.
with long narrow
shafts which give a
special charm to the
whole mass ; as if the
masons were rejoic-
ing to emphasize the
distance they had
now travelled from
the horizontal lines
and stout pillars of
Norman times. The
huge unusual cen-
tral tower, called le
Flomb, is just one
great story, though
there is a half-con-
cealed division in the
openings within the
high arches which
cover its eight sides.
A turret blocks the
arch on the external
sides ; and the whole
is simply finished
with a quatre-foiled
parapet. A noticea-
ble peculiarity of this
tower is the little
isolated waves of
stone that decorate
the wall spaces be-
tween the shafts.
Past the wide arch
of the south porch an alley leads to the Bishop's house ;
near which one can see the peculiarities of the eastern
yi v___ -7-1: ___^J_^~>_
VII
INSIDE THE CATHEDRAL
175
part of the church. There is no transept ; or, rather,
what transept there is does not project beyond the nave
chapels; but there is instead a building of unusual shape
which looks like a vestry from without, though it turns out to
be really a vaulted chapel. The strong, one might say the
muscular arms of the flying buttresses spring up from broad
Contances.
walls of stone, with the exception of one that rests on a tall
square turret (which has no apparent purpose to fulfil), and
stretches to a similar turret in the choir : between these two is
the little round turret which is a conspicuous feature inside the
aisle.
Perhaps, after the striking effect of the outside, there is
a slight feeling of disappointment on entering the nave.
It is a bit smaller than one expected, and the choir
seems short and broad ; the grouping of the shafts in
the nave is stiff, especially that of the three vaulting shafts.
For the rest, the nave has parapets both to its triforium and
clerestory, and between the arches of the former are round
panels of caived foliage. But as we go eastward the place
wins us more and more by its originality. The choir has very
i;6 EXCURSIONS FROM COUTANCES CHAP, vn
high pier arches, and a plain tract of wall rimmed with a parapet
takes the place of a triforium : the apse, broad as it is, is
formed of very narrow and tall coupled round pillars. The
vaulted lantern is like an octagonal church set up aloft, with a
sort of parapeted triforium resting on a tall parapeted arcade,
and a clerestory of lancets above ; but in contrast with that
of St. Pierre every detail is distinct and telling, down to the
enriched mouldings on which its parapets rest.
Hut it is in the ambulatory and chapels of the choir that the
original genius of the unknown architect finds its fullest
expression. They stand on a lower level than the choir, and
sweep round it like two curved aisles. The outer aisle has
angular swellings which form shallow chapels ; the inner one,
or ambulatory, has its own clerestory, triforium, and pier
arches. There are thus three ranges of vaulting, that of the
choir, ambulatory, and outer aisle, descending like three
steps. In the ambulatory the small round turret which we
noticed from the outside comes through the vault to end in a
singular encorbelment, which looks like a sort of blind oriel
and is decorated with beautiful arcading, as, indeed, is all this
part of the church.
One cannot help being sorry that this remarkable building
has not come down to us just as it was first designed ; but
criticism is disarmed by the beautiful tracery of the Decorated
nave chapels, and the exceedingly light screens that separate
them from each other.
There is another church at Coutances, that of St. Nicholas.
It has a character of its own, and little classical details peep
out in the capitals of the choir to testify that it is a seventeenth
century addition on the lines of the earlier nave.
romances is a good place wherein to make a stay, not only
for its own sake, and that of the valleys and hills around it, but
because of the many interesting excursions that can be made
from this centre : such as the ruined abbey of Hambye, the
manor of La Haye-du-Puits, the grand Norman abbey church
Ccutances.
178 THE WARS OF RELIGION CHAP.
of Lcssay, and the strange sad desert called the Lande de
Lessay, which is passed through on the way. One could go
further and explore the whole Cotentin, the remains of abbey
and castle at St. Sauveur-le-Vicomte, the old hotels and church
of Valognes, and Cherbourg itself.
And then Coutances has an aqueduct. True, its buttresses
and pointed arches deny a Roman origin, but probably an
earlier aqueduct did cross the western valley in the days when
Coutances was called Constantia ; and this one, whose mantle
of ivy makes one forget that it was used until about two
hundred years ago, is all the more remarkable because it is
medieval.
The Cotentin affords a striking illustration of the bloodshed
in the Wars of Religion. The Cahiers de Doleances, drawn up
at Coutances in 1580 give the number of persons executed or
killed at 12,082 in the Cotentin alone: this slaughter seems to
have been pretty evenly distributed, for it included 128
Catholic and 162 Calvinist gentlemen, n priests, 16 religious,
and 6,200 Protestant soldiers.
On St. Lawrence's day, 1561, the Huguenot leader, Co-
lombieres, marched into Coutances and pillaged the town. An
old writer, Renault, in an obviously exaggerated account
speaks of the " cris confus des homines qrfon egorgoit, des femmes
quonvioloit, des p n't res, rcHgieux, et religieuses qiion masascroit,
ct de toute la populace quon passoit au fil de Fepee" Anyhow they
ill treated the newly-appointed bishop, Arthus de Cosse, after
trampling on the Sacrament and making a bonfire (at which he
had to assist) in the Cathedral. The poor man was gagged,
set backwards on an ass with the tail in his hands for bridle ; a
paper mitre was stuck on his head and a petticoat round his
body in lieu of a cope. Luckily when they had taken him
round the town in procession, the joke of the thing disarmed
them of hatred, and they forgot the contemplated gibbet,
throwing him into prison instead. A month later some friends
managed his escape, and lie left Coutances disguised as a
VII
THE TRIALS OF ARTHUS
179
miller's man. Outside the town a few cavaliers awaited him
and brought him to Granville. There the inhabitants pro-
tected him, and refused to give him up to the Huguenots,
although they threatened a pillage ; for Granville was confident
in its seagirt rocks, its double walls and bastions and demi-
lunes.
Seven months later, when the storm was past, Arthus returned
Contances.
to Coutances and held his first synod, though the church was
half in ruins, and the canons were so poor that they had no
winter clothes. In 1566 we find Colombieres pillaging there
again. In 15 70 the unhappy Arthus found that Catherine de
Medicis expected the clergy to pay for putting down schism.
He was taxed to the extent of four hundred ecus d'or, but could
in no wise raise the money. He went therefore to Mont-St.-
Michel (of which place he had lately been made commendatory
abbot), in the Company of a jeweller, to whom he proposed to
sell the abbot's crozier for ten thousand ecus. The monks were
on the point of consenting, when Jean the Prior (one can spare
him some sympathy) ran furiously up to the Bishop-abbot, and
hit him on the cheek, crying " The Devil shall take Abbot
N 2
i So
A DISPUTED CROZIER
CHAP.
Sf^ltew?
i
. -I
/I :J.
-e_ . _^
rather than the Abbot take the (To/.icr !" J'oor Arthus gave up
the bauble, and j)ioeeeded to lay a complaint before the
I'ai lenient at Rouen. lUit, unfortunately, the Prior was of as
L, r oo(l family as lie, so the Parlenient had no grounds for a
VII
SAINT-L6
decision, and the case dragged on for years, the Bishop always
paying.
What was there about Saint-L6 to make it so intensely
Huguenot ? Was it the out-door pulpit at Notre-Dame, I wonder,
or the roomy disposition of the nave ? Anyhow, so it was that
St. Lo.
this little city set upon a hill became during the wars of religion
a lesser Rochelle, a " veritable boulevard de nos Protestants"
Nor was it a bulwark to be despised. Seen from the
railway-station (which happens to be the best place from which
to gain a first impression), it stands four-square on its lofty
rock, rimmed about with walls ; and the dark waters of the Vire
pass in front of it, to go wandering off among the hills towards the
sea. On either side also a tributary stream runs at the bottom
of a valley, and the square platform of the old town stands
proudly between the three waters, at some places with sloping
sides, at others with an abrupt face of naked rock. The western
wall, which is the one that faces the station, crowns a precipice
that absolutely scowls at the passer-by. Yet here it was, accord-
j82 THE SIEGE OF SAINT-L6 CHAP.
ing to tradition, through the breach by the side of the ivied,
machicolated Tour Beauregard, that the Catholics under Matig-
non forced an entrance in the memorable siege of 1575. He
had already entered the town eight years before, shortly after
the ill-treatment of Bishop Arthus at Coutances ; but that time
the garrison had escaped to the woods, and there had been no
bloodshed only a little impartial pillaging by the Breton
soldiers, who were not sufficiently educated to distinguish between
Catholic and Protestant.
In March, 1574, Colombieres (whom we last saw at Coutances)
entered Saint-L6, and was received with enthusiasm, for the city
was in imminent danger of a siege. Matignon marched up
very soon after ; but circumstances compelled him to draw off
the bulk of his troops to the siege of Domfront (p. 106), leaving
only a small investing force before Saint-L6. In June, 1575,
he returned with the captive Montgommery, and determined to
attempt a peaceful entry, like that of 1562. Montgommery was
sent forward to interview his old comrade. So the two doughty
Huguenots met for the last time, Montgommery at the
foot of the wall, Colombieres on the ramparts, with his
captains and his two young sons. Montgommery then pointed
out the uselessness of resistance, and counselled surrender as
the best thing that could be done for the common cause. But
Colombieres replied with bitter taunts: "Am I indeed speak-
ing to the man who has had the honour to command so many
good and true men ? You have clone meanly yourself, and
would now persuade others to do the like. You have preferred
the felon's fate to a glorious death for the salvation of your
soul and the defence of the Gospel : I at least remember that
1 am a soldier and a gentleman ! Here am I with my sons, and
my post will be at the breach ; there I shall die, perhaps to-day,
perhaps to-morrow, but, please Cod, the Queen may -retard
your execution long enough for you to witness my resistance
and death ! "
On June loth, at five in the morning, Matignon's artillery
DEATH OF COLOMBIERES
183
opened a heavy fire. A breach was made by the Tour de la
Rose, and then another by the Tour Beauregard ; for although
the cliff on which the latter tower stands made it difficult of
approach, it was thought better to make a double assault. The
women of Saint-L6 came to the assistance of the men, rolling
down rocks and pouring hot pitch and oil upon the besiegers ;
who made attack after attack with desperate courage ; but after
St. Lo from the River.
four hours' fighting there was no gain on either side. The
cannon then played again upon the ramparts, and a great piece
of wall fell down from Beauregard into the river. In the evening
the Catholics brought up their reserves, and gathered for the
last attack. They threw themselves upon both the breaches,
and a sergeant managed to establish himself with a small body
of men at Beauregard, whence he could harass the defenders
with a cross-fire. Colombieres seemed to be everywhere at once,
directing everything, cheering everybody. At last, he stood up
on the ramparts with his two boys, who were only twelve and
fifteen years old, and thus addressed them : " Amis ! In giving
your lives with my own to God I offer Him all that is dearest
in the world to me. But it is better to die with your father
undefiled in honour, than to live as the servants of these
1 84
PLACE DES BEAUX-REGARDS
CHAP. VII
degenerate, apostate infidels." Then he called for a cup of
wine, and with lifted visor drank it off defiantly before
the enemy. As he did so a shot from the sergeant at Beaure-
gard struck him so that he fell dead upon his sons. The
Protestants no longer stood out as they had when he was
amongst them, and Matignon's men soon forced an entrance ;
-" ss -tiui ' "- ^ v * s ^'& '
'
* '*--'-~J '. f^
7'/!f Market in the Place tics Keau.}:- Regards.
but the two boys were spared, and lived to carry on the name
of their brave sire.
The Place des Beaux-Regards, which lies before the church of
Notre -Dame, can be reached directly by a xig-/ag road on this
western lace : but the more usual way is by the Rue Torteron,
which goes up on the south side and gives access to the old
town by a narrow street between grim houses and the fragment
of a gate tower.
The Place des Beaux-Regards is a great rambling open space,
which does not even bear one name, for the eastern part of it
is called after Oambetta : at one end it forms a terrace over the
rock, at the other is the church. No municipal power that
lives can reduce it to squareness ; and none, we may hope, will
ever dare to pull down the islands of houses which diversify, or
the irregular streets which approach it. In one of these islands
fmnw^wi
" ~mji$
Maison-Dieu, St.-Ld.
i86 ANCIENT HOUSES CHAP.
there is a splendid house, the Maison-Dieu, of timber and
stone, and resting on a stone base. It has two gables, and the
three upper stories project one over the other ; every beam of
wood is admirably carved, and the corbels bear the pelican, the
vernicle, and other symbols. On either side of the Place are
streets of the characteristic grey stone houses with square
towers, covered with peaky roofs, their square windows often
have iron gratings, with sometimes an ogee moulding, grudgingly
conceded by way of ornament. Such a street is the Rue des
Pros, on the south side of the Place, and the Rue des Images
on the north. This last street and the streets that run across it
are full of interest. In the Rue des Images is a house with a
corner turret, and a very stern, gaunt side to it, and at the end
of the street is the gateway almost a tunnel that leads down
the Rue Porte-Dollee outside the town. The road from here
dips down under the northern ramparts of the town, and follows
them up again to the Champ de Mars. It is a fine picture ; on
one hand the long wall, with houses solemnly perched up on the
hill behind it, on the other hand the rivulet Dolle'e running
along the valley through another group of old grey houses with
slate roofs.
I'Vom the Champ de Mars it is easy to reach the north side
of Notre-Dame, where the charming out-door pulpit projects
over the narrow pavement ; its panels are of large flamboyant
tracery, and a high canopy protects the preacher.
As you walk towards the west end you will notice that the
church becomes narrower, so that there is room for a slim
house to slip in between it and the street. The same narrowing
occurs on the south side, and this is the secret of the church's
peculiarity. It is in fact, pear-shaped.
Nothing could be more curious than the effect as we go in
by the west door. We stand between two enormous piers, one
carved into a cluster of shafts, the other in part plain, in part
decorated with a sort of panelling. These piers have a narrow
nun hex between them (for no attempt was made to include the
VII
NOTRE-DAME
187
tower spaces), and from here the church broadens out to its
great round east end. It is, as I said, like a pear. The pillars
of the nave (which are without impost or capital) are spread
out beyond those of the narthex, and the aisle walls slope
away so as further to broaden the church towards the east. To
add to the strange effect the chancel arch (which is all on one
side) has been cut away in its lower part to make the east end
the more open; and the south aisle, not content with merely
Notrc-Datnc, 67. Ld.
sloping out, develops a great bulge, which forms a chapel where
the transept might be in a normal church. Pillars separate this
chapel from the ambulatory, and on the north side there is a
continuous range of pillars forming a double aisle. There is
no triforium anywhere, and only some plain upper windows in
the choir ; but the large windows of the aisles give plenty of
light.
Perhaps it was this defiance of tradition in their church that
inclined the people of Saint-L6 to break with tradition in their
theology. Who knows? Certainly the amplitude of the
building was admirably adapted to the preche. But I do not
1 88
ORIGINALITY
CHAl'.
:xi v*\\ ssiZ^tr VStJM^r^UI \ . ^\^\ see why the
authors of this
church should
be blamed for
deserting the
cruciform plan.
They succeed-
ed in producing
an original
building, and
what is so pre-
cious as a sane
originality ? I
own that I like
the interior of
Saint - Lo im-
mensely. The
bulge on the
south has the
practical result
of providing a
chapel in such
a position that
a large congre-
gation can as-
sist at the ser-
vice ; and this
attainment of a
/v/ t - the Church, 6Y. L6. dignified inte-
rior by means of breadth and openness might be studied with
advantage by those whose business it is to build churches to
suit our modern requirements.
There is some good glass, but most of it is either fragmentary
or restored : one window, that with the circles of cherubim, is
in good condition ; and, further singularity about this church,
vii THE SPIRES OF NOTRE-DAME 189
there are in the north ambulatory two quite respectable modern
windows, respectable at least in that they are fair copies, and
not vile parodies of the old.
How different are the substantial spires of Saint-L6 to those
of Coutances ! They may well be, for they belong to the
seventeenth century ; hence the curious drums which form
their bases, hence the echinus moulding that peeps out on the
northern end. The towers below them are very different the
one from the other ; that on the north is Decorated, that on
the south Flamboyant. The west front is as curious as anything
else in this church : three flat porches under a straight parapet,
then three Decorated windows under a plain strip of stone ;
the middle porch is not under the middle window, there are
undecided patches above, and the carving about the porches is
eloquent of Huguenot zeal.
CJn'itcan at Esquay.
CHAPTER VIII
HAYF.UX, CREULLY, FONTAINE-HENRY, THAON, LASSON.
EVERY Anglo-Saxon has heard of the Baycux tapestry, and
so every Anglo-Saxon comes to Bayeux, although for that
matter he can see the famous needle-work in accurate facsimile
at the South Kensington Museum. A little train of our
brothers and cousins hurriedly works round the glazed screens
in the Museum, anxious travellers flit once or twice across the
cathedral, strangers with homely faces appear at the table d'lwte,
IJut they never appear again. Saint-L6 calls them, and
Coutances ("alls, and the distant voice of St. Michael bids
them hasten to his shrine. They are gone, whirled away by
tin- unquiet spirit of the age, which will not let them rest and
consider, even on their holidays. It is a matter of conscience
with them to be able to say at home that they have seen such
and such places : and yet, were conscience more severe, it
would not allow them to say that they have seen anything.
lor lie who sees too much sees in truth nothing, and he who
takes his holiday too seriously will have no memories but those
of his meals and his misfortunes : as who should say, At Dieppe
we tasted s<>/t' Nontiandt\ at Caen the cider disagreed wiih us,
at Lisieiix we lost the train because it was in time.
CHAP, viii THE BESSIN I9I
Such thoughts fill me with sadness ; and therefore I cannot
help crying now and then a siste viator, although I know it is
to battle vainly against a nervous age. Why should one hurry
away from Bayeux ? Caen retains all visitors for a night or
two because its many monuments exhaust the tripper ; but
Bayeux is less importunate, and so the savour of its quiet streets
is missed. Yet it has a hotel, the Luxembourg, where there
is a garden full of pear-trees, asters, heliotrope and roses, and
also a view of the cathedral, both rare things, I admit, to us
who have become used to the unromantic haunts of the
commercial traveller. For those who prefer the sea to the
gentle country hereabouts there are quiet watering places like
Port-en-Bessin and Arromanches within half a dozen miles, so
that a cyclist can leave his children there, if he have any, and
scour the country round. The Bessin is worth the trouble,
being full of interest. We have already passed, in coming from
Saint-L6, Balleroy (open on Wednesdays), perfect example of a
Louis XIII. chateau, and, just in the outskirts of Bayeux, the
lovely little Norman tower of St. Loup-Hors with its quaint
figure of St. Loup standing on an indistinct dragon over the
door. We shall take in, too, as many places as we can on the
way from Bayeux to Caen ; but even then how much we shall
miss ! the remains of a chateau at Brecy, the important churches
of Norrey and Bernieres, and a crowd of others, a Roman camp
near Banville, a still flourishing pilgrimage centre at Douvres-la-
Deliverande, and the field of Formigny, where the English
fought and lost the last pitched battle of the Hundred Years
War, and the long-bow that had worsted the knight at the
beginning of that protracted warfare went down finally before
the cannon at its close.
There is a special charm about Bayeux. It is not a strong-
hold upon a hill, like all the towns we have lately seen, but
just a quiet old cathedral city, a centre of rural industry indeed,
exporting much butter, but without any quickening of the pulse.
It is homelier than most French towns, and has more gardens
1 92 HOUSES AT BAYEUX CHAP.
and trees ; it has the air of being entirely old, and at every
turn one is struck by the pleasant run of its streets, their pretty
corners, their old world recesses and courtyards.
Near the west front of the cathedral a slim stone cylinder
with a sort of perforated nightcap sticks out among some
houses, which unfortunately hide much of its length. It is
called the Lanterne des Morts, though really nothing more
portentous than a medieval chimney : but such chimneys are
rare. The Rue Maitrise contains (No. 13) one of the oldest
houses in Bayeux ; it is in stone, with one trefoil-headed
window, and probably belongs to the thirteenth century. In
the Rue Bourbesneur is the Maison du Gouverneur, which is a
simultaneous mixture of Flamboyant and Renaissance work :
its windows are good, but it is especially remarkable for its
bold stair-turret, a hexagonal structure fitted with a square top
story. On the east side of the cathedral is No. 47 Rue Larcher,
a delicate hotel of the Louis XIV. period. On the north of
the cathedral is the Palais de Justice and Hotel de Ville, once
the bishop's palace, a pleasant jumble of Norman, Gothic and
classical buildings, with a magnificent plane-tree in the court-
yard by the cathedral.
Again, opposite the cathedral (on its west side) is No. 6, Rue
Bienvenue, which dates from the fifteenth to the sixteenth
century, and has carved figures of the Angel, Adam, the Serpent,
Eve ; and below a mermaid and a unicorn.
IVst known to visitors is the fourteenth century house at the
corner of the Rues des Cuisiniers and St. Martin, a splendid
half-timber building, projecting over the two streets on a stone
base. It must have been fresh and new in the days when Alain
Chartrier (the poet whose eloquent lips were kissed as he lay
askvp by Queen Margaret of Scotland) first paced these streets.
What scenes it must have witnessed since ! No. 4, in Rue St.
Malo, which continues the Rue St. Martin, is a later house
of tin.' same type, less striking in its general plan, but remark-
able for the beautiful fiururcs of saints that are carved on it.
VIII
A NURSERY RHYME
193
MtrvrTSHk^
>J<N^'.
' """ ""^^r^-
At the corner of Rue St. Mai tin.
Perhaps the children still sing the old rhyme with which they
used to invoke the guardian saint of their home :
" Saint Pierre, Saint Simon,
Gardez bien notre maison !
S'il y vient un pauvre,
Baillez-li I'aumone :
O
! 9 4 FIERY ORDEALS CHAP.
" S'il y vient un pelerin,
Baillez-li de notre vin ;
Mais s'il y vient un larron,
Baillez-li du lourd baton ! "
To architects the chapel of the Seminary (a little way to the
east of the cathedral) is of peculiar interest as being a work of
pure Early English style, even to the moulded windows, set
down in the middle of Normandy. It was built between 1206
and 1231, no doubt by some English architect. The east end
is curiously divided by the vaulting into two bays, and there
used to be an altar in each.
The history of the cathedral is like a medieval picture of
Purgatory. The oldest part was probably built not later than
the first half of the eleventh century, and to this the crypt may
perhaps belong. It was burnt down, and in 1077, William the
Conqueror assisted at the dedication of a second Romanesque
church, which had been built by the famous Bishop Odo, his
brother : but his son, Henry L, burnt that down thirty years
later during his fight with Robert of lielesme. In 1107 it was
rebuilt, and in 1159 reburnt. From these disasters there have
survived the pier arches of the nave, the bulk of the western
towers with their chapels, and the walls of the central tower.
The rest of the church, its choir and chapels and the high
coupled lancets which form the clerestory of the nave, were
built in the newly invented Gothic style between 1165 and
1231. And the architects were content to adapt the w r est front
to their ideas by just clapping five porches on to it, and filling
them with carving. It was left to the purists of 1761 to shave
off the tabernacle work of the central porch, and reduce it to
what they thought elegance. The tower was finished in 1478,
owing to the generosity of Uishop Louis d'Harcourt, who
proposed to the chapter that he should defray the cost, whereat
the canons replied by promising to remember him continually
at the chapter mass. The tower was finished ; it was capped
with a gorgeous affair of gilded lead, on which stood St.
vin NORMAN ORNAMENT 195
Michael, his sword flaming over the flamboyant pinnacles and
finials. But the fire demon had not yet done with Bayeux ;
and in 1676 Michael melted into a tower that had become
flamboyant in a material sense. Early in the next century the
upper part of the tower was rebuilt in the classical style of the
period. It was a decent piece of work, but modern restorers
thought fit to destroy it. Thus, while the first stage of flam-
boyant windows belongs to 1478, the second stage and the
incongruous copper cupola and spire which surmount it date
from 1860.
The church is built on sloping ground, to which accident
it owes some of its character, the height of its eastern walls
on the outside, and the steps by which one descends into
the nave ; by a very happy arrangement the choir (standing
over the ancient crypt) is maintained on the same level as the
nave, and the level is preserved at the crossing, while the
transepts and ambulatory are on the lower ground.
This is one of the church's points. Another is the re-
markable pier arches. These are most splendid florid Nor-
man work, an epitome of the many forms of ornament used
in the twelfth century. The spandrels are filled with diapering,
of which there are nine different kinds, the prettiest being the
curved overlapping rope work in the eastern part. The decora-
tion of the arches is as varied ; there are zig-zags and lozenges,
billets and beakheads, frets, and a sort of shell ornament on
many of the mouldings. There is a strange eclecticism about
this sculpture, as if the masons knew by inspiration what we
know by museums ; for instance, in the first bay on the left
hand, the twin caps are Corinthian in character, although many
of the other caps are distinctly Gothic, the figure in the little
niche looks for all the world like a Hindoo god, the diaper
above is suggestive of a modern " Japanesy " wall-paper ; some
of the interlaced work is almost Celtic ; some of the beak-heads
look like Assyrian monsters ; the dragons are exceedingly
Chinese indeed, such dashing dragons can never have been
o 2
196 THE CHOIR CHAP.
seen before or since outside the Celestial Empire. These
fiery beasts are in some of the small niches, in others are
saints in stiff Norman chasubles ; in one of those of the
restored eastern bay some ingenious modern has carved a
copy of Harold's oath from the famous tapestry, which was
perhaps the best thing that could be done under the
circumstances.
The choir, a most beautiful example of Early French, has
flat panels pierced through with plate-tracery, which is very
conspicuous by reason of its black shade. Apart from the
apse, its triforium presents the unusual arrangement of four
arches enclosed in one. Some one during the classical as-
cendency fluted the pillars of the apse, so as to make them,
I suppose, a little less barbaric to his eyes ; the result is to
provide an interesting contrast between the concave surface
thus obtained and the convexities of the clustered piers
around ; it gives one also an opportunity of realising how
much more Romanesque traditions lingered in Early French
than in Early English art in the distance one might think that
piers and capitals as well had been made in the seventeenth
century. Medallions containing the heads of early bishops
of Bayeux form the decoration of the choir vault, and very
effective they are in their well placed simplicity. They seem to
have been more accurately restored than the other frescoes in
this church ; those on the south transept, for instance, betray a
very free treatment by the mistakes imported into their cos-
tume, while that of the martyrdom of Becket is glaringly and
altogether modern. Still the picture of the Visitation in the
third chapel of the south ambulatory remains a pretty example
of sixteenth century art ; and in the next chapel one can
trace a good deal of the earlier paintings of scenes from St.
Eloi's life, though the large figure of the saint himself is again
unblushingly modern. The only old glass, by the way, is that
in the east and west windows of choir and nave.
The short transepts afford an excellent example of the
VIII
A WHIMSICAL MASON
'97
The Cathedral, Bayeux.
freedom with which medieval architects worked. The walls
are both covered with ornament ; but while the north transept
has regular arcades of much stateliness, the south seems to
have been left to the individual fancy of some whimsical
mason. He has carved with much skill fine bosses of foliage ;
J9 8 BECKET'S PORCH
CHAP.
but he has chosen to arrange his spandrels in quite different
figures, and while he has filled one with feathering of some
regularity, he has treated the other as if he had been amusing
himself with a pencil and a pair of compasses. On the outside
of the transept this restless genius has made his spandrels over
the Becket porch look for all the world like a watchmaker's tray.
The same tendency to cover every stone surface with figures,
raised or sunken, is very noticeable on the outside of the
church as far as the transepts ; but beyond them the chevet
sweeps round in a simple pointed arcade under lancets.
The porch in the south transept, which I mentioned a few lines
back, contains sculpture representing the life of St. Thomas a
Becket ; for it was only a few miles from Bayeux that Henry II.
let fall the famous exclamation, " Of the cowards who eat my
bread, is -there none that will rid me of this troublesome priest ? "
This porch used to be walled up, and it was only opened to
admit a high dignitary of the cathedral at his first entrance, and
at his last when his coffin was carried in for burial. There is,
alas ! up against the church, a mason's yard, which seems to be
a regular appendage nowadays, a sort of modern cloister, to
those buildings which are controlled by the State as Monuments
Historitjitcs. Historic they will soon cease to be, if the present
mania for replacing every worn stone continues. Some of the
tracery of the north chapels is certainly not of the old Decorated
design ; and though I suppose restorers are latterly more careful,
the fact remains that at the present rate of restoration Bayeux
cathedral will in another fifty years have ceased to be. As it is,
the chapter house has the appearance of an entirely new building.
Perhaps the Norman towers will have the most chance of
surviving. No words are needed here to praise their massive
stateliness. Later builders learnt to raise towers without so
great a weight of stone, without such mass of spreading
buttresses ; and yet what they gained in grace they lost in
grandeur. The north spire is Early French ; that on the south
tower was built, it seems, in 1424. In a row of niches over
vni OLD FURNITURE 199
the western doors, ten great statues of the ten sainted bishops
of Bayeux look down upon a sinful world.
The sacristan does not jump down one's throat at Bayeux,
but he should certainly be sought out for a visit to the crypt,
the sacristy or Tresor, and the chapter-house. In the chapter-
house there is a labyrinth arranged in the tiles (which are
excellent specimens, by the way), and such labyrinths are now
extremely rare. I suppose their use was to afford a little sober
amusement to the canons when chapter meetings became prosy.
The Tresor contains a few objects which are really worth
seeing. The most famous is an Arab coffer of ivory and silver
gilt. There were four others like it till the Calvinists protested
in their practical way, when this one only was saved by the bishop
of the day, who carried it off into hiding. Their importation is
popularly attributed to St. Louis, but all we can safely say is
that they were perhaps brought over during one of the Crusades.
Even more interesting is the enormous oak cupboard, which is
one of the finest thirteenth century pieces extant : some traces
remain of the paintings which once covered it. But other smaller
cupboards of more recent date, especially one with a multitude
of small doors, should not pass unnoticed. There are also, a
fine iron folding chair of the fourteenth century, and a chasuble
with its narrow stole, attributed to St. Regnobert, it is not so old
as all that, but its orphreys seem to be really very ancient Byzan-
tine work, and the silk, though perhaps later in date, belongs
probably to an early medieval period. The processional dragon,
which was carried at certain solemnities, is also preserved here.
The crypt was filled up and forgotten for ages. It was
discovered in 1412, when the grave of Bishop Jean de Boissey
was being dug, as an inscription over the window tells us :
" Alors en foissant la place
Devant le grand autel de grace
Trova la basse chapelle
Dont il n'avait etc nouvelle
Oil il est mis en sepulture.
Dieu veirille avoir son ame en cure."
200 THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY CHAP.
One can peep into it from some openings in the ambulatory,
but it is worth going right in to see the strangely carved capitals
of this very early work : one or two of the bases are of full
Norman character, but most are of a more inchoate type. The
date of the crypt is not however certain : while some have
ventured to ascribe a Merovingian origin, others have classed
it as Odo's work which was a-building when Harold visited
Bayeux, and was dedicated in the presence of the Conqueror in
1077. Incredible as it seems, two of the caps have been
replaced by modern imitations : even the darkness could not
save them. There is a recumbent effigy of a bishop in the
crypt, which retains a good deal of colouring, and has well
designed orphreys, while the almuce lies under the figure.
Has any traveller passed through Bayeux without going to
see the Tapisscrie de la Reine Mathilde ? Hardly, I should
think, of late years, since it has been known and accessible in
the Muse'e. But for ages it was unknown outside of Bayeux.
The first mention is in an inventory of the year 1476 : it was
used then and down to the Revolution to decorate the nave of
the cathedral on great festivals, and was carefully kept in a
press in one of the chapels. In 1724 a drawing was made of
it, and an eminent antiquary, named Lancelot, lighting on the
drawing, read a learned paper on it ; but he did not know
anything about the tapestry itself, and conjectured that the
drawing represented some sculpture or painted glass at Caen.
A little later a shrewd monk, Montfaucon by name, made
determined efforts to trace the origin of the drawing : he wrote
to Caen, but was told that nothing was known there about it
(the amazing provincialism of these provincials !), then he wrote
to Bayeux and was told about the tapestry. Whereupon he
introduced it into a great book he was writing on the monu-
ments of French monarchy ; and the treasure began to be
famous. Yet in 1792, when the people of Bayeux raised a
battalion for the war, they could think of no better material to
cover one of their military waggons withal than this priceless
IN IMMINENT PERIL
201
tapestry. An offi-
cial named Le
Forestier, who cer-
tainly deserves a
statue, rushed off
to buy more ordi-
nary canvas, and
rescued the tapes-
try, carrying it off
to his study to
await quieter
times. It only
drifted gradually
into security. In
the earlier years
of the nineteenth
century, it was
shown to visitors
by being rolled
from one cylinder
to another across
a table ; and the
embroidery, which
had lasted for
more than seven
centuries under
the care of the
Church, began to
show signs of rapid A st '' cct in Ba y cux -
wear. At last it was framed and glazed as we see it now. It
is conveniently arranged, and each scene is supplied with a
title ; but if you wish to give it a real study you should bring
with you Mr. F. Rede Fowke's " Bayeux Tapestry" (Bell and
Sons, 1 05-. 6d.), an admirable book, which is enriched with a
complete series of reproductions. The historical interest of
202 BETWEEN CAEN AND BAYEUX CHAP.
the quaint and spirited needlework is of course immense ; but
in spite of much obvious strangeness and angularity, no one
can help admiring its very real artistic qualities, the power of
telling a story, the action and characterisation of its scenes, and
the fancy of its grotesque borders. Needless to say, the
Tapisserie de la Rant Mathilde is not a tapestry, and is not by
Queen Matilda. However, it is contemporaneous work, Mr.
Fowke considers, executed by order of Bishop Odo, expressly
for the decoration of the cathedral, the nave of which it fits
exactly. The local form of the name Wilgelm, and the local
shape of the wine-barrels, make it highly probable that the
work was done in Bayeux. It is not a tapestry, but a piece of
embroidery. A seamless band of linen (now the colour of
brown hoi land with age), 230 feet long and only some 20
inches wide, is worked with a needle in worsteds of eight
colours dark and light blue, dark and light green, red, yellow,
dove-colour, and black. There is no shading and no
perspective ; the colour is arbitrary, but an attempt is made to
indicate distance by means of different colouring, the off legs,
for instance, of a green horse will be red. There are seventy-two
scenes, containing 623 human figures, 202 horses and mules, 55
dogs, and 505 other animals. Not only are there sea and battle
pictures (ending with the Battle of Hastings), but we see
eleventh-century cookery in one compartment, Mont-St. -Michel
and its quicksands in another, and of course in others the prin-
cipal actors in that great drama Edward the Confessor,
Harold, William, and the warlike Bishop Odo.
However much you are determined to hurry, at least you
should not go by the high road from Bayeux to Caen. Often
these unbending enormities can be avoided by picking out a
different route on the map in order to see the country as it really
is. That I must generally leave you to do according to your
energy and inclination : but we are now on special ground
" Si tu veux ctrc heureux,
Vas cntrc Caen ct Bayeux,"
vin ESQUAY AND CREULLY 203
says a Norman proverb. This land is a farmer's paradise, and
if we pick our way we shall not only pass through some country
that is like a pleasant dream, but we shall see four charming
places that the ordinary tourist misses. Of course much will
still have to be missed, but we shall at least see one castle, two
chateaux, and two Norman churches, all of quite special interest
and beauty, and we shall pass by old farms and manors and
hamlets and churches too numerous to be recounted, in the
twenty-four miles which will bring us to Caen.
Therefore, leaving Bayeux by the Octroi de Caen, we will
avoid the main fork of the road, and take that on the left which
leads to Esquay-sur-Seulles, a pretty village with a pretty
chateau ; from here the excellent French system of sign-posts
will guide us through all our cross roads without fail. Our
route will lie through St. Gabriel, which has the remains of a
Norman priory, Creully, Fontaine-Henri, Thaon, Lasson, too,
if we like, and then by the Creully road into Caen.
Each of these villages has had the good sense to keep still,
and the ravages of the nineteenth century have passed them
by. Ah no ! There is one exception at Creully. It entered
into the heart of man to restore the outside of Creully church.
Now, enough of the old corbels remain to show their rich
barbaric humour ; the Norman masons, in fact, cracked a series
of jokes all round the top of their church. But the lower
corbels have been thrown on to the dustheap, and what I have
no doubt are very careful imitations have been put in their
place. If you want to have the whole meaning of restoration
in a nutshell, just compare the merry life of the old heads with
the glum contortions of the new.
Inside, the church cannot but strike you as remarkable by
reason of the flat, low effect of its heavily ribbed vault. This
vault belongs, like the rest of the church, to the end of the
twelfth century, and it is an early example of the vaulting of a
nave. The effect of this long nave (only the last bay is Early
French) and its tunnel-like aisles is admirable. The church
204 THE BARONS OF CREULLY CHAP.
is also exceedingly rich in capitals ; some have a linen pattern,
some volutes, some heads with queer moustaches, some have
interlaced work, and for this one may be specially signalled
under the vault in the south side of the third bay.
The barons of Creully were mighty men of valour far back
in the dim ages of Norman history. At the battle of Val-es-
Dunes, when William the Bastard and Henry of France
defeated the rebel barons, it was Hamon le Hardi, the first
baron and a descendant, it was said, of Rollo himself, who
knocked the French king off his horse, whence the saying :
" De Costentin jessit la lance
Ki abattit le Roi de France."
This Hamon (sometimes called Haimon-az-Dentz, or le Dentu)
seems to have died of his feat. No doubt Robert Fitz-Hamon,
his not less famous son, was among those who rallied to
William the Conqueror's battle-cry when he
" Venir fit eels clu Bessin
E li barons cle Costentin,"
as the Roman de Ron tells us. His services must have been
great ; for he was rewarded with the comics, honneurs et
scigneuries of Gloucester and Bristol. In the troubles that
followed among the great Duke's sons
" Robert ki fut fitz Haimon
Avec altres riches Barons,"
took the part of Henry I. against his own feudal lord and
namesake, Robert Curthose, and it was he who helped Henry
to subdue the country by the rough and bloody methods of the
time. At the siege of Falaise, Robert got an arrow in his
head, and died mad a few months afterwards, leaving as his
heiress Mabile, his daughter.
This lady was too good a match to be let go, and King
Henry pressed her to marry his natural son Robert. But
Mabile, who was high spirited as she was rich, refused. The
King asked her the reason.
"Sire," she answered, "it is clear that vour choice is fixed on
vin THE LADY MABILE 205
me rather for my heritage than myself. But with such a
portion as mine, it would be a shame for me to marry a lord
who had not two names. Sire Robert Fitz-Hamon was the
name of my father, and not only his own name but that of his
family. So, Sire, for the love of God, let me not have for
husband a man with only one name."
The King replied, " Damozel, thou speakest well. Sir Robert
Fitz-Hamon was the name of thy father ; thy husband's name
shall be as fine, for I will dub him Sir Robert Fitz-Roy."
"That is a fine name," retorted Mabile, "and will give him
great renown all his life, but what will be the name of his son ? "
Then the King was convinced of the girl's reasonableness,
and promised her that Robert should have a fine name
without stain, for him and his heirs ; and, since Gloucester
was the chief estate of her heritage, he would call him from
that day, Robert, Earl of Gloucester.
Mabile then consented to the match : " That, Sire, suits me
very well. On these terms I agree to all, and all my goods
are his."
In the Hundred Years War the Castle of Creully, after being
dismantled in one siege, was much strengthened, and the
machicolated tower on the wall was built. Here the peasants
were safe, for they could fly to the protection of its walls in
times of danger. In 1391, the barony of Creully was again
vested in an heiress ; through her marriage with the Sire de
Vierville, it passed to that family, who left an unpleasant and
perhaps undeserved record for cruelty. The inhabitants of
these parts still weave stories round the old castle, in which
every subterranean passage becomes an oubliette. A harmless
skeleton was found in one of these passages some seventy years
ago, and at once everybody was certain that a young peasant
girl, the victim of some baron, had been chained here with an
iron ring about the foot. By now the story must have reached
the proportions of a three-volume novel.
In 1512, Marie de Vierville, having been twice a widow, was
206
THE FIVE ANTOINES
CHAP.
married a third time (for she was an heiress) to Jean de Sillans.
Thus once more the family name of the de Creully was
changed. The first Antoine de Sillans, who died in 1570,
. i
V^vlb <7 '/I^^rfev \ , -,
seems to have been an estimable person, to judge by his long
epitaph. He was a staunch Catholic in those troublous times,
and had fifteen children :
" DC quinze cnflmts qu'il cut il en a vu Ics quatr^
I'our la fni catholique ct pour Ic Roi combattre."
There were no less than five Antoines, of whom the first
three stood high in the royal favour. The tomb in the church
with Mark marble ornaments is that of Antoine III. ; it was
set up by his wife, Sylvie de Rohan, and the original inscription
vin CREULLY CASTLE 207
after describing his many virtues, gave the best testimony of all
by declaring that his wife
" Dans ce tombeau resolut dc montrer
Que le trepas ne Ten peut separer."
But the last two Antoines ended in bankruptcy, and in 1682
the castle passed into the hands of Colbert, the famous minister
of Louis XIV. In 1750, a niece of the third Colbert, the
Duchesse de Montmorency-Luxemburg, inherited it, and held
it till the Revolution put an end to all old things.
And of their castle, Creully castle, what are we to say ? It
is just the prettiest castle in Normandy, not the greatest or
the grandest, but the prettiest. First, a wall along the road,
then a burst of verdure between it and a great wall high above
us, as we stand where the stream runs under the arches of a
quaint, formal mill. Within the wall is a square tower, with
overhanging top story ; beyond it, windows peep out, and,
further on, a tall chimney sprouts up from an oblong base ;
there is a second tower with irregular sides, within which the
cap of the stair-turret seems to stand on guard. And the
whole is set about with a profusion of ivy, and black-berried
elder, and spinning poplar leaves, and Turneresque trees, which
seem to have grown up on purpose to do honour to the place.
It is not a ruin. Up on the south side a roadway takes us
by the outer court and over the moat to a fragment of Norman
gateway, where we can enter, after pulling a bell, between the
hours of 9 and 1 1, i and 5.30. This side is all comfortable and
sixteenth-century, rather like some of our own Tudor country
houses, from the ornamental battlements to the gay flower-beds
of the cosy garden.
There is an inn at Creully, and one might well stay there and
explore the country round about. But we will follow the Caen
road from Creully for just over three kilometres, till a signpost
points us to Fontaine-Henry. It is only a dotted road in the
ordnance map, but it is quite good all the same. Joanne, by
the way, gives an even more minute map for the strip of coun-
208
FONTAINE- HENRI
CHAP.
sin
try between
Port-en-Bes-
a n d
Cabourg.
To reach
the chateau
of Fontaine-
Henri we
go straight
through the
mostcurious
and delight-
ful straggling
village,
which,
thanks to
the abund-
anceofstone
in the neigh-
bourhood of
Caen, is
pretty much
the same
no was it was
before the
Revolution.
The chat-
eau of Fon-
taine-Henry
(open on
Fridays and Sundays) is one of the very best examples of a
French country-house: it was built between the age of strength
and the age of stiffness. Creully is a feudal castle : Balleroy,
splendid, imposing though it be, is formal, a creature of absolute
symmetry. Now Dalleroy was built in 1636, but Fontaine-
vin THE DESERTED CHURCH AT THAON 209
Henri was finished just a century earlier : nothing could be
freer, more original; and surely there never was such a piece of
triumphant audacity as its enormous roof and chimney, kept, as
they are, well in tone by the charming corner turret below, and
the spired projection at the other side.
The roof is actually several feet higher than the house a
unique arrangement. This left wing is of the same date (c.
1536), and seems to be by the same artist as the Hotel
d'Escoville, in Caen. The right wing is a generation earlier.
The road by the chateau leads straight through Thaon back to
the Caen road : but to see what Thaon contains we must turn off
to the left along the village street, a long street full of character,
where we are not in the least surprised to see a gentleman in a
full-bottomed wig on one of the houses, he is in stone, but he
would feel quite at home if he were back in flesh and blood. It
is necessary to ask one's way to the vieille eglise, which stands by
a lane and a clear rivulet outside the village, deserted among the
weeds, with only an ancient yew-tree and one or two tombs to bear
it company. It is a quite exceptional church, full Norman, but
in its own way : the most divergent conjectures have been made
as to its date, but all agree that it is one of the most interesting
Romanesque churches in Normandy. Its walls are covered
from end to end with perfectly plain round arcades, only en-
riched with shafts on the south of the choir, with zig-zags on
the north, and decorated with a chequered surface on the north
of the nave. This most telling scheme of decoration reminds
one just a little of the Saxon church at Bradford-on-Avon,
though in fact it may not be earlier than the twelfth century.
Somebody, I suppose to adapt it as a barn, cut off the aisles,
and filled in the nave arches, respecting, however, the capitals,
which are very rich.
We soon reach the Caen road again just above Cairon.
But, if we are to see Lasson, we must turn off to the right at the
farther side of Cairon, and then come back to the road again, which
is about a mile there and back. Lasson chateau was probably
p
LASSON
CHAP. VIII
designed by Sohier, the architect of St. Pierre at Caen ; it
certainly belongs to the Francois I. period, and is considered a
chef (Tcvuvre. But I think it is possible to overrate it : the detail
is better than the general design, which is patchworky without
being very original. It contains a quaint kitchen, and a cellar
that is like a scene in a play. On the frieze of \\sfacade is one
of those strange enigmatic mottoes of the Renaissance,
si'Kko I.ACON in ASSES PERLEN. One antiquary has
interpreted this S/>ero (Latin) " I hope," Lacon " that
Lru;son," />/ or Be (English) " is," Asses (French) " enough,"
J\rh'n (German) "pearls," i.e. "I hope that Lasson is fine
enough." An even more ingenious writer sees English in
another of the words, and reads "I hope that asses will keep
away from Lasson " ! 1
1 Mention may here be made of the ruined abbey church of St. (iermain-
l.i-Klanclie-IIt il.e, two kilometres from Caen. It is t^rand twelfth-century
work, much like our own geometrical style, and is now part of a very
beautiful yroup of farm-buildings (1904).
La I'ille attx Clochers.
CHAPTER IX
CAEN
IT is almost strange, after so much wooded country, to be
amongst the broad brown fields that sweep down towards
Caen. We could not approach it from a better point than the
Creully road. As it comes into view we are struck by a certain
resemblance to Oxford,- and indeed the sailors long ago used
to call it " la ville aux dockers" just as Oxford is the city of
spires. Moreover it had also a famous university, and another
name for it was " la ville de sapience" After we have left in
the fields on our right the remains of the Abbey of Ardennes,
which are now farm buildings, the city lies before us like a
map : on the right are the twin spires of the Abbaye aux
Homines, in the middle the famous spire of St. Pierre, and on
the left the towers (which also had spires before the Hundred
Years War) of the Abbaye aux Dames.
We may have time before darkness sets in to pay our first
visit to the Abbaye aux Hommes, the church which the
Conqueror built in honour of St. Stephen. English travellers
instinctively go to Caen, remembering how once it was ruled
by the same king that ruled in London. It is true that all the
rest of Normandy was also part of the English realm, but the
p 2
212 LANFRANC'S DIPLOMACY CHAP.
monuments of that unimaginable fact do not come home to
one so strongly elsewhere. For Caen is specially the town of
William the Conqueror, his favourite dwelling place, the centre
of the new kingdom which he created, and his last home ;
and it is Caen that was chosen for those two characteristic
monuments of William's might, commenced in the very year
of the Conquest, the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye
aux Dames.
The Conqueror built no less than twenty-three convents, but
these two were wrung from him by the force of circumstances.
He had in 1053, married Matilda, daughter of the Count of
Flanders ; but the pair had a grandfather in common, and so
Manger, the Archbishop of Rouen (who by the way also had a
share in the unfortunate grandfather), excommunicated them
for marrying within the forbidden limits. The fulminations of
the Church only stiffened William's back, and for six years he
defied them, deposing Manger from his Archbishopric and
punishing every opponent whom he could reach. Among his
victims was Lanfranc, then Prior of Bee, who was ordered to
quit his monastery. An old monkish writer describes the prior,
mounted on a lame horse, the best that the humble convent
could give, riding slowly away from the convent whose pros-
perity seemed about to disappear with him. The brothers
accompanied him to the confines of their lands, and with tears
bade him farewell. As luck would have it, he had not
journeyed far from his much loved home before he met
William. The Duke received him with anger in his eyes and
a threat on his lips ; but Lanfranc, who after all was an Italian,
went up to him with polite assurance, and insisted on his
listening to what he had to say. He began the conversation
with a jest, " I am obeying your command as quickly as I can,
and I will obey it better if you will give me a better horse."
William was pleased at once by his spirit. In the course of an
hour Lnnfranc succeeded in persuading the stark outlaw of the
Church that it was useless to run his head against the walls of
ix THE CONQUEROR'S CONVENTS 213
Rome. William saw that Lanfranc was no ordinary man, and
on the spot he charged him with a mission of reconciliation to
Rome.- The result was as might be expected : Lanfranc had
no difficulty in making the Pope see that William was not the
sort of man to give up his wife, or anything else that was his ;
and that therefore it was useless to perpetuate miseries among
the Norman people on account of their ruler's sin. It would
be wiser, and more to the glory of holy Church, if the Duke
and Duchess were granted a dispensation for that which after
all could not be undone, on condition that they should make
some conspicuous demonstration of their piety, and render a
permanent service to the Church whose laws had been broken.
Lanfranc returned with this triumphant result of his
diplomacy. The excommunication was raised, on condition
that the Duke and Duchess should build two abbeys, one for
men and one for women. William accepted the arrangement
with enthusiasm, and built the abbeys on the grandest scale,
spending immense sums of money, and presiding in person
over the works. Lanfranc he installed as abbot of the men's
convent, which was dedicated to St. Stephen. It was with
regret that Lanfranc consented to leave his old home on the
Risle to preside over the new foundation ; but before the
church was ready to be consecrated, he had passed to greater
and remoter honours, the Duke had become a King, and he,
the new King's most trusted adviser, was in 1070 made
Archbishop of Canterbury. In 1077 the church of St. Etienne
was dedicated with great pomp in the presence of the King,
Queen, and Archbishop, whose fortunes had been so closely
bound up with it.
The burial of the Conqueror at St. Etienne is one of those
lurid scenes which bring history at times so close to drama.
The fierce old man had died at Rouen, and his death had cast
all those around him into a ferment of insecurity : the strong
hand was rigid in death, and each must now look after his own.
So all fled, and when the archbishop and his clergy came to
2i 4 BURIAL OF THE CONQUEROR CHAP.
the house, they found thit the servants had stolen every-
thing in it and left the body without a single wateher. The
churchmen, fulfilling William's last wish, brought the body
to Caen, carrying it by water down the stately reaches of the
Seine.
At the gates of Caen, Abbot Gislebert and all his monks
advanced to meet the body of their founder. The coffin was
carried through the narrow streets of the town ; monks and
clergy and people followed with chanting and tears, the devotion
of vassals atoning thus for the desertion of friends. It must
have been a strange sight on this summer morning : the pro-
cession winding its way among the little wooden houses that
lay between the Conqueror's great white stone churches ; the
uplifted cross, the trailing incense ; the monks in the black habit
of St. Benedict, walking two and two with downcast eyes as
they chanted the plaintive verses ; the long line of clergy in their
flowing vestments ; the imposing company of mitred bishops,
and the abbots who all but equalled them in dignity. Here
walks Gislebert, the fat, jocund, hunting abbot, and there,
with keen eye, and the glamour of sanctity already marked
upon the firm, sweet lips, Ansel m, the Abbot of Bee, who has
come hither from a bed of sickness. And the people point to
him, feeling his greatness then as we do now, and whisper how
he, the dread King, had wished to make his last confession to
Abbot Anselm, but that Heaven had punished him, making
Anselm to fall ill so that he came not to shrive him. And thus
silently under its long pall goes the awful solitary burden, which
even now they watch far more in fear than in love, marvelling
to think that he who a few days ago held their lives in the
hollow of his hand is now that impotent and heavy load to be
laid away out of sight.
In the midst of this solemn pomp there arose a cry of terror.
Flames burst from a house by which the procession was passing;
it was unsafe to proceed, and the whole quarter was threatened
with destruction. The people rushed away in all directions.
ix AN ILL-BRED INTERRUPTION 215
Once more the body of the unloved duke was deserted. Only
the monks followed it into the convent.
But for the burial all the people gathered together again, to
witness the last solemnity. In the midst of the choir, now
thronged by bishops and abbots, was the heaped earth of an
open grave ; just without the choir the candles flickered round
the corpse. The nave was filled with people. When the Mass
was over, the eloquent Bishop of Evreux went into the pulpit
to pronounce a funeral discourse ; but as he finished his last
words a strange voice rang through the church, and all turned
to discover the audacious speaker. It was Ascelin, a rich
burgher of Caen, a man not easily to be silenced, and sur-
rounded moreover by sympathetic friends. He stood up, a
representative of the city against the castle, one of the first
protagonists of a long and bitter war, and protested on behalf
of right against one who had made such an appalling use of
might.
" That earth which you disturb is the site of my father's
house ! That man for whom you pray took it from him by
force, and, without heeding his just claims, built thereon this
church. Therefore I do reclaim this ground, in the name of
God. I forbid you to cover the body of the robber with my
soil, or to bury it in my heritage ! "
The bishops crowded round Ascelin, paid him sixty sous on
the spot for the grave, and promised to make all the rest good
to him. So he disappears from history, his half-crown in his
pocket, and the smile of prosaic triumph on his face sturdy,
broad-footed burgher, type of the yet remote future when the
castle shall have crumbled away before the city, and power
shall lie with him who best understands the mysteries of
finance !
The last scene of that funeral can hardly be described. The
coffin was not large enough or strong enough ; and all the
strength of incense smoke could not prevent the congregation
from hurrying out of the church, and leaving the terror-struck
216 SAINT-ETIENNE CHAI>. ix
monks to finish the service as best they could, and then
retire " all trembling to their cells."
Many centuries afterwards the Calvinistic mob broke into the
tomb and took out the bones of the great King. They were,
with the exception of a thigh-bone, given to a monk, but were
lost when the abbey a little later was sacked. The thigh-bone,
which had passed into private hands, was brought back, and is
now all that remains of William the Conqueror.
The Protestants not only emptied the Conqueror's tomb,
broke the stained glass, and made away with the abbey's
famous reliquary, but their ravages reduced the choir to such
dilapidation that the Norman Parlement ordered its demolition.
Then a monk, Jean do Baillehache, who deserves canonisation
by the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings, arose
and set about patiently to save the church. He worked so
well that, " with the assistance of God and the saints who are
honoured in this church," he secured its preservation.
Afterwards he became prior, and lived through the first half of
the next century, dying in 1644. The recent restorers of the
Chapel of the True Cross buried his tombstone two feet
beneath the earth. Was this because they could not bear to
face it ?
The church of St. Ktienne, where these things happened,
needs but little description : its stern and solemn grandeur
must impress the most careless visitor, especially if, as I have
suggested, it is first seen when the setting sun lights up the
west front that is so great in its utter simplicity. At such a
time it is all vastness and silence within ; and in the darkness
one is able to feel the character of a place that relies upon mass,
not upon detail. But it is a mistake to think that what w r e see
is the Conqueror's work, appropriate though it may seem to
him. Very little of the original wide-jointed masonry can be
seen. The present west front was built up against the original
one in 1090, when the lower part of the towers was made, and
the aisles vaulted. In 1160 the nave was vaulted, the walls
218 THE ABBEY CHAP.
refaced, the enormous triforium added. The choir was built
about 1 2 10, and the spires belong to the same period : there
was once a central spire also, but it succumbed in the sixteenth
century.
To return to the abbey. Gislebert, the third abbot, was
accused of gluttony, unjustly, it would seem, and on the mere
arbitrary ground of his fatness. An enemy wrote some jingling
Latin verses on the subject, some of which are funny, as, for
instance :
" Corpus tarn crassum non cst jejunia pass urn :
Si jejunafcses, carnem niacie tenuasses !"
Or this indictment of his sporting tendencies :
" Ex aviumludo sua peridot sollicituclo."
Up to the time of the Hundred Years War, Caen and its
abbeys continued to flourish : but in 1346 the English entered
the almost defenceless town, without troubling to take the
castle. The citizens opposed them doggedly, and after the
men had been defeated in battle, the women turned each house
into a fortress, whence stones and even furniture were thrown
upon the English. Edward III. retaliated by sacking the town,
and the treasure which he carried off to his fleet at Ouistreham
shows how rich the burghers of Caen had become. Of cloth
alone there were 40,000 pieces. When the enemy was gone,
more attention was given to fortification, and the abbey walls
were enormously strengthened. They were needed in the years
that followed.
We must pass over many centuries, to the time of the
Revolution, when the eighteen remaining monks of St. Etienne,
after making a solemn declaration of fidelity to their order,
paid their last visit to the cloisters and cells and majestic church
which they had loved so well, and went forth into the world.
The abbey buildings now do useful work as a Lyccc. Like
those of the sister foundation they were built in the beginning
of the eighteenth century, and their size may be gathered
IX
SPACIOUS CHAMBERS
219
from the fact
that 600 boys
are at school
here. They
are indeed a
stately pro-
d u c t of
France's state-
liest age.
They remain
much as they
have always
been, spacious
and simple.
The Parloir
alone has
much decora-
tion, the rest
has only ex-
cellent panel-
ling of the
period, vault-
ed ceilings,
and a few
large pictures.
In the cloister
is a clock,
and under it
a long list of
the various
Masses that
were to be said, with spaces for the names of the celebrants,
deacons, chanters and other assistants. The old chapter-house
is used as a chapel ; in the sacristy is one of those curious
pictures which are intended to deceive the eye with the im-
A street in Caen.
220 NOBLE NUNS CHAP, ix
pression of another chamber beyond. The refectory is another
fine room ; but perhaps the hanging stair-cases are the most
striking feature of the abbey, one in particular winds round its
four walls with hardly any apparent support, though whether
this tour de force is an artistic virtue I will not say. The
excellent ironwork of its balustrade was wrought by a monk
who had his forge in the abbey.
The Abbaye aux Dames was begun in 1062. Four years
later it was dedicated with much state in the presence of the
Conqueror and his Queen and a great concourse of barons and
ecclesiastics. The ceremony was closed with a touching scene :
William presented his little daughter Cecilia at the altar, to be
dedicated henceforward to God in the bonds of holy religion.
The child was taken into the new convent, and there soon
followed her many other daughters of the great folk, who
copied the example of the Duke of Normandy. Such a
proceeding was not so oppressive then as it would seem
now-a days. There was much to make the life of the world
undesirable to women of gentle birth ; and many who at the
present time would discover no vocation for the cloistered life
were in the rough hard days of an earlier age glad enough to
leave the cheerless cells and constant anxieties of a feudal keep
for the cultivated and dignified peace of the cloister. A
woman certainly enjoyed more "rights" in a convent,
especially in such an aristocratic house as the Abbaye aux
I )ames : she belonged more to herself in belonging more to the
Church, and might well give up cheerfully the prospect of
becoming the chattel of some unattractive and bloodthirsty
baron.
The little Princess Cecilia hecame the second abbess of the
Trinite, and, as such, a person of independence and
importance. Indeed, during the three days of the Fair of the
Holy Trinity, the arms of the abbess were set up on the city
gates, and she enjoyed complete jurisdiction over Caen,
together with all the city dues ; even the officer in command,
222 SAINTE-TRINITE
CHAP.
were he governor of the province or a marshal of France, had
to come to her for the watchword, right down to the time of
the Revolution.
Once a year the abbess herself was deposed. This was the
" Fete de la Petite Abbesse." At the first vespers of Holy
Innocents' Day, when the verse was reached, "He hath put
down the mighty from their seat" the abbess left her stall, and
summoned thither the ''little abbess " who had been chosen
from among the younger girls in the convent. The little abbess
held sway with great pomp for twenty-four hours, during which
time not the abbey only but the whole town gave itself up to
merry-making. But next day, when the same verse came round
again, " Deposuit potentes" the little abbess gave up her brief
sovereignty, and the triumph of childhood was brought to
an end.
Queen Matilda's wish had been that she should rest, not
beside her lonely husband in St. Ktienne, but here in her own
foundation of la Trinite. She left her crown and jewels to the
abbey, and there her body was laid to rest within the walls
that were for so many centuries to shelter the highest born
ladies of France. The Protestants cheerfully rifled the Queen's
tomb; but her bones were gathered together by pious hands,
and replaced soon after by the Abbess Anne de Montmorency.
(What a name Montmorency is in the sixteenth century !) At
the Revolution the second tomb was destroyed ; but the
remains were again preserved, and in 1819 the present
monument was placed over them. The black marble slab,
however, is part of the original tomb, and its inscription is a
fine example of the eleventh century lettering.
And what is the abbey now ? The church has suffered
from a restoration, but is otherwise intact ; and the abbey
itself is one of the most interesting things in Caen. Like its
companion, St. Ktienne, the church as we see it belongs to the
second and third periods of Norman architecture ; but the
builders seem to have determined to make the two as unlike
ix IN THE HOSPITAL
223
as possible ; Ste. Trinite is smaller, lighter, more feminine than
St. Etienne ; instead of simple capitals it has elaborate ones,
instead of a massive deep triforium it has nothing but a slight
arcade, and all its features have a similar distinction.
To visit the most interesting part of the Abbaye aux Dames
we must apply to the concierge of the Hotel-Dieu at the side
of the church. For the transepts and choir are partitioned off
from the nave and are used by the nuns who serve this hospital.
Thus the desolate condition of most old abbeys is not here :
the place is alive, and in it devoted women still lead their own
lives and are busy with their work of mercy. The enormous
abbey buildings belong to the first years of the eighteenth
century, and are particularly well adapted for hospital work.
We go through the noble cloister to a pillared portico, whence
the door of the north transept is reached. The transepts are
used by the patients, who are kneeling here to say their rosaries.
At the east of the south transept is an Early French chapel,
which was once the chapter-house. Visitors are not allowed
to enter the choir, but a curtain is lifted from the wooden
grating, and we can see the tomb of Queen Matilda in the
midst of the stalls, where one or two of the sisters kneel, deep
in prayer. From the chapel we are taken through another
wing of the cloister, and across a courtyard (where the
convalescents in their blue coats and white night-caps are
gossiping under the trees) to the park, a huge quadrangle of
trees. At the side of the park is a little mound, up which a
path winds round and round between hedges, and the top is
covered by an old yew-tree as with a tent. From here the
spires of Caen can be seen, and all the country about, while
nearer in is the varied surface of the kitchen gardens,
surrounded by old walls ; and in one corner lies the little
triangular cemetery, where the small black crosses tell of those
who are content to leave their memory in God's hands. We
can go through the pathetic children's ward, and their little
garden, if we like, before we leave ; and at the door of the
224 THE SPIRE OF SAINT-PIERRE CHAP.
hospital a nun, in the white habit and black veil of the order,
will thank us gracefully for anything we like to give "pour les
pauvres"
St. Pierre is the principal church of Caen. Its sides are
a little marred by the loss of some tracery, but it has two
features which alone \vould place it in the front rank, its
spire and chevet. The tower and spire, which are all the more
imposing because they are detached from the church, were
built in 1308, but are quite in the style of the thirteenth
century. The spire especially is a triumph of architectural
skill. It is absolutely devoid of any supports within, and
consists just of the eight triangular stone sides, which are only
sixteen centimetres thick. They shoot up till they meet
together at the height of 246 feet above the ground. Yet, light
and lovely as is this audacious pyramid of thin masonry, it is so
tough and well poised that the wind and wear of seven centuries
have never shaken it. It even underwent bombardment : in
1563, that memorable year for the Caennais, Admiral Coligny
placed some men on the tower to fire at the castle ; the castle
naturally responded with its cannon, and made several large
holes, which actually were left unmended for more than a
hundred years.
In 1549 a Breton lad, named Jean Gladran, climbed to the
top of this spire without any kind of ladder. The weather-cock
was stuck, and Gladran was sent to fetch it down ; he lowered
it by means of a cord which he wore round his waist ; then,
when it had been mended and gilt, he climbed up the spire
again as if it were a ladder, sat on the top, and hauled up the
weather-cock with his cord. When he had fixed it in position,
he turned it first with his hand and then (the very thought
makes one giddy !) with his foot. After further disporting
himself with singing a few songs, he climbed down from the
height which had made him famous. But the historian of
Caen voices the ungrateful spirit of the grovelling multitude
with the \vrdict, " // auoit vn ccrueau bicnasseure, et phis de
SOHIER'S WORK
225
temerite que de
sages se"
Hector Sohier,
a native of Caen,
built the chevet in
1521, and it is a
gorgeous example
of the eccentric
luxuriance which
is the mark of
Francois Premier
architecture.
When I say that
he built it, I must
confess that most
of what he set up
is at the present
moment in a shed
near the church,
because the State
has presented the
church with a copy
of it instead. The :
chapels have an-
gular sides, and
the upper story of ;
the Lady Chapel
forms, like that at
Wells, a complete
octagon separate
from the choir ;
this part is pierced
with round win-
dows, which con-
tain four circles by
way of tracery, but
Caen : Spire of St. Pie
226 STRANGE SCULPTURE CHAP.
the other windows are marked by an absence of tracery that is
characteristic of Sohier. The parapets are the most striking
feature, with their elaborate arabesque ornament, and their
pinnacles of the " candelabrum " type. The candelabra
standing thus about the chapel roof have perhaps a symbolical
purpose ; certainly the whole effect is one of extreme delicacy
and refinement.
Until about forty years ago a branch of the river ran under
the chevet in the space now occupied by the Boulevard St.
Pierre ; the appearance of Sohier's work as it rose above the
water and of the old houses and the steps down to the river
was most beautiful. But for some miserable reason the river
has been covered up. There is, however, a pleasant garden on
the south side of the church, where is the porch at which
criminals used to stop to make the amende honorable on their
way to the scaffold.
As for the interior of St. Pierre, it has been accused of
looking more like an alhambra than a church, and of containing
things more curious than devotional. This is perhaps true of
the eastern chapels, where can be found many heathen gods.
There is indeed fantasy enough here and in the strip of stone
lace-work that adorns the apse. The vaulting is extraordinary,
most of all in the chapels, where the curved ribs carry a flat
ceiling, and are weighted with preposterous pendents. These
pendents, fulfilling no structural purpose, are a source of danger
to those who pass underneath ; they have, indeed, often fallen,
and soon after their erection one killed an unfortunate man in
its descent.
I \vonder if the people who kneel here to worship have ever
given a thought to the extraordinary subjects which are carved
on the cap of the third pier of the nave. Perhaps not, for the
treatment is obscure enough, and does not appeal to the eye
like the rabbits of the second cap. The subjects are a phoenix,
a unicorn, a pelican, and three stories, Lancelot crossing the
lake on a huge sword to deliver Guinevere, and the two following
anecdotes, which were very popular at the time.
ix THE DESECRATED CHURCHES 227
Aristotle having reproved Alexander the Great for suffering
love to make him lazy, the monarch decided to see his mistress
no more. But this lady, burning with a natural desire for ven-
geance, determined on the most biting form of all she would
make the philosopher fall in love with her. Cunningly accoutred,
she met him and conquered. She then told him that she was
possessed with a fantastic idea, she would like to ride about
with the philosopher for a horse. He could refuse nothing.
Saddled, bridled, and ridiculous, he crawled about on all-fours,
the lady singing triumphantly on his back. Then Alexander
was sent for, and the philosopher disappeared, red as a sunset,
amid mocking laughter.
The story of Hippocrates bears a like moral. The great
physician had a statue set up to him in Rome, and was almost
deified. A Gaulish woman, the Emperor's mistress, was jealous
of such worship, and determined to make a fool of its object.
So she, too, made him fall in love with her, and told him to
bring a basket to the foot of the tower where she lived ;
into this basket he was to creep, while she let down a cord
to pull him up withal. The infatuated physician did as he
was bidden ; but when the basket had been raised to mid-air
it stopped, and Hippocrates was left to endure the jeers of
all Rome when day broke next morning.
I think that an artist set down in Caen to draw pictures of
entire churches would choose those which are desecrated. It
is a melancholy fact, but these are the buildings which have
retained most of their original beauty, and have, in addition to
the freedom and absence of self-consciousness which is the true
artist's mark upon them, that added charm which time alone
can give. St. Etienne-le-Vieux, St. Gilles, the Halle au Ble', and
St. Nicholas have indeed suffered from neglect and base uses,
but in all their degradation they have been spared the last and
worst.
St. Etienne-le-Vieux is near the Abbaye aux Hommes. It
was built with the help of Henry VI. in 1426, to replace an
Q 2
228 SAINT-GILLES CHAP.
older church which had been ruined by Henry V. in the siege
of 1417, owing to its proximity to the city walls. From it we
can look down the Rue de Caumont, which I think is one of
the prettiest streets in Caen, though there is nothing in it to be
signalled in a guide-book except the fourteenth century buildings
of the College du Mont (now a Museum) opposite the irregular
east end of the church. From the south-west, one has a good
sight of St. Etienne-le-Vieux, its octagonal lantern, and the
gutters that carry the rain water through the pinnacles to the
gargoyles' jaws.
St. Gilles grew up under the shadow of the Abbaye aux
Dames, and owed its dedication to the fact that the body of St.
Giles was preserved in the abbey itself. The disappearance of
that precious relic is a curious instance of the danger which lies
in over precaution. During the wars of religion the relic was
given to a nun, with orders to hide it with the greatest care so
that it might be preserved from the Protestants. So faithful was
she to her charge that she did not even talk about it. No one
but this one nun knew where it was hid, and when she died
shortly afterwards she carried the secret with her. Peace and
security returned to the abbey ; but the body of St. Gilles could
nowhere be found.
Gombard, the cure of St. Gilles at the Revolution, is still
remembered in Caen as a martyr. He refused to take the oath,
was arrested just as he was about to leave the country, and
executed at Caen in April, 1793.
In 1864 the choir with its fine chevet was pulled down, in
order to improve the view ! At first sight the church looks
entirely Flamboyant, but the saw-edged cornice betrays the
twelfth century. The south doorway, which was added in the
sixteenth century just at the last flicker of Gothic art, is ex-
tremely original : a low arch is set between two buttresses, and
the stonework above adorned with exceedingly beautiful
carving and a finial with a pedestal.
The Halle an Ble, almost buried behind parasitic houses, was
IX
COVETED OBSEQUIES
229
formerly the
church of
Saint-Sau-
ve ur - aii -
M a r c h e .
There is a
curious story
of a certain
F r a n 9 o i s
Boisne, Rec-
tor of Caen
University,
who was
buried here
in 1753. The
ceremony was
one of un-
heard of mag-
nificence ; for
it was a tradi-
tion at Caen
that should
the Rector
happen to die
during his
term of office,
his obsequies
should be
" like those
of a king," N
Therefore the
University, whenever
another, lest the invalid by dying while still rector should
plunge them in the ruinous costs of a royal funeral. But in
1753 a Rector did manage to die in office. He was killed while
i
TUSK
Caen : St. Pierre from the Marche au Bois.
a Rector was ill, hastened to appoint
230 SAINT-NICHOLAS CHAP.
hunting : but the rumour spread about, and was widely
believed, that he had really committed suicide, in order to enjoy
the luxury of a gorgeous funeral !
In 1812, a time of great distress, when corn was double the
usual price, a mob made a demonstration in the Halle, and
afterwards proceeded to a neighbouring mill, but without doing
any serious harm. The Prefet, however, felt insulted, and
sent up to Paris a grossly exaggerated account of the facts. In
a few days the peaceful inhabitants of Caen were amazed by
the arrival of Napoleon's aide-de-camp with a large body of
soldiers. A number of people were arrested, and given the
short joys of a military trial. Some were imprisoned, and,
incredible as it seems, eight (four of whom were women) were
condemned to death and executed the same morning. One
lad of nineteen struggled against his executioners, crying out,
"Don't kill me! Don't kill me !" and adding bitterly, " En-
voyez inoi plulot a Varmee. On if en revientjamais !" And one
person was executed by mistake, owing to the hurry.
St. Nicholas was built by the monks of St. Etienne for the
population that grew up rapidly round the abbey. It is one of
the most curious specimens of Norman architecture, and the
more interesting because it has undergone few modifications,
and the precise date of its completion (1093) is known. The
nave and transepts have the same plain round windows and flat
buttresses as St. Etienne ; but, unlike the mother church, it
retains its three round Norman apses. These are curious and
beautiful, the small apses are plain, the central one is decorated
with three arcades ; no doubt the high conical roofs area some-
what lateraddition. The west front has an exceedingly uncommon
porch, which is more like an aisle let into it than anything else.
By way of contrast a Flamboyant tower disports itself at the
south-west corner of the church.
Two churches in Caen, St. Jean and St. Sauveur, lying
somewhat in the back-water of public interest, have passed the
nineteenth century almost unscathed. St. Jean rejoices in two
ix NOTRE-DAME DE FROIDE RUE 231
remarkable towers ; the central one has a top story, which, to
judge by its pinnacles, was to have been a triumph of the
Francois I. style, but it stopped as suddenly as the Tower of
Babel, and its unfinished windows stick up like exaggerated
battlements. The western one is a real leaning tower, its in-
clination is not quite eight feet, rather less than half that of
Pisa ; but this peculiarity must not make us overlook its other
qualities. Indeed, the whole church is picturesque, and there
is a noticeable corner at the back entrance behind the choir.
The character of the interior is mainly due to its parapeted
galleries, and to the length of the choir, which is, in fact,
greater than that of the nave. The baptistery was once the
bakers' chapel, and on its eastern arch are carved some curious
mementoes of their trade, little cakes and a pastry-cutter.
Inside this chapel there is a statue of our Lady, to which the
people of Vaucelles used to resort in time of plague, in the
days when it stood over the Porte Millet, one of the city gates.
St. Sauveur used to be called Notre-Dame de Froide Rue
a quaint title that well suits its character. The east end, which,
like the spire, has some points of resemblance with St. Pierre,
is on the Rue St. Pierre ; but it is in the old Rue Froide that
the spirit of the place comes upon us. The church rubs
shoulders with the street in a familiar, homely way, that takes
us straight back to the middle ages. We are in the time when
religion and common life were more closely intermingled, and
men made beautiful things without thinking it necessary to rail
them in, and without self-consciousness. That spiral staircase,
for instance, let into the wall so quietly, so charmingly the
man who made it did not think about fine-art societies, or the
critics, or the Legion of Honour, and probably did not know
that he was creating a chef-d'oeuvre ; he just wanted to make a
way by which the gallery could be reached, and he made it this
way because it gave him joy to use his wits. The internal
gallery is gone now, and whether it was for relics or for a private
pew we do not know, but the staircase remains.
232 VAUCELLES CHAP, ix
The same engaging absence of formality is more marked
inside the church. You open the door, and you do not know
where you are ; there are altars and spreading steps, and aisles
and a gallery, but none of the ordinary landmarks of a church.
You explore a little further, and you find that the confusion is
caused not so much by a want of unity as by an absolute
duality. It is not one church, but two, standing side by side,
which once communicated only in the western part, and then
were thrown into one by a tremendous arch which cuts out the
whole eastern partition wall that had separated the two choirs.
And there they stand, these two choirs, in the oddest rivalry ;
one is Flamboyant, with brilliant glass (and this has stalls like a
real choir), the other is Caen Renaissance. The roofs are
wooden ; and, though stone vaulting is beyond criticism, I
confess that a building with a wooden roof always has a charm
of its own for me. And now you will appreciate better the
contrast of the two apses in the Rue St. Pierre, the candelabra
of the Sohier school, and the quite exquisite naturalistic carving
round the Gothic window.
Most visitors at Caen go out to the suburb of Vaucelles,
where the station is, to see St. Michel de Vaucelles. It is well
placed on high ground, and is a mixture of styles a Norman
tower is overtopped by a fifteenth century choir, and a Renais-
sance nave ends in a tower of the time of Louis XVI. Inside,
the nave and its aisles are much lower than the choir. The
pulpit is one of the best examples you can see of seventeenth
century woodwork, as light in general effect as it is graceful in
the detail of its carving. On the easternmost boss of the choir
is carved a St. Michael, and round him are painted the saints
who were patrons of the various confraternities united to that
of St. Michael. The paintings belong to the middle of the
sixteenth century. In one of the statutes of the confraternity
;i century earlier are preserved the names of the patrons
i; Monsieur saint Michel archange, Monsieur saint Jehan-
B:\ptiste, Monsieur saint Pierre et Monsieur saint Paul,"
St. Sauveur, Caen.
234 THE CASTLE CHAP.
ending with u Monsieur saint Sebastien et Madame sainte
Anne."
It is worth while to compare with the old churches the late
seventeenth century eglise de la Gloriette, which is a very typical
specimen of the " Jesuit " style. All the other churches are
more or less defaced by the furniture which modern Romanism
requires. But this has no clash of inappropriate decoration ;
it has an effect, a rather theatrical effect, and a certain dignity
of its own, because it is at unity with itself, and its florid altar
suits the temple which contains it with such an air of ample
prosperity.
Caen was once walled, and protected by a castle and by many
towers large and small ; even the two monasteries at the east
and west were fortified also, the Abbaye aux Dames (as befitted
the weaker sex) having a special fortress all to itself. The
castle, whose walls towered over us as we first came in by the
Rue de Geole, is a very large place, founded by the Conqueror,
enlarged afterwards, and now modernised. There are some
fifteenth century towers still standing, and the Porte de Secours
is a very picturesque example of the period, but any attempt to
sketch or photograph it will probably lead to your arrest : it is
reached from the Rue des Fosse's, which is well named, for the
moat which isolates this gateway is very wide and deep. The
castle is now used as a barrack, and cannot be entered without
permission from the commandant.
The Tour le Roy is the one important relic of the ancient
city fortifications. It stands at the side of the Boulevard
St. Pierre, a melancholy shadow of what it was, sunk now in the
new road, so that its proportions are destroyed, and restored
with unreal battlements. The rings on its outer side remind
one that the river once ran at its foot.
If one was asked what was the special architectural distinction
of Caen, I think one would have to put aside all its fine
churches, and point to the Renaissance hotels, which bear the
names of la Monnaie, Moindrainville, Escoville, and Than.
ix ETIENNE DUVAL 235
For they are altogether sui generis : like the kindred mansions
of Fontaine-Henri and Lasson which we saw on the road,
they are the work of those artists of the FranQois Premier
period who determined to produce houses of an entirely new
character.
These palaces were built by the merchant princes who
flourished so magnificently in the France of the Renaissance.
Those great tradesmen were bourgeois only in the sense that
they lived in cities, while the noblesse lived in the country. At
what age, I wonder, did the word bourgeois come to connote
vulgarity ? In the sixteenth century it spoke rather of refine-
ment and a magnificent devotion to the arts.
Etienne Duval, the merchant who built the Hotel de la
Monnaie, was also a Protestant, like so many of the commercial
men of France at this time. Yet Protestantism, which spells
destruction in French as in English history, did not prevent
him from the construction of the most sumptuous and beautiful
works of art. If public and religious buildings were destroyed,
private and secular ones were erected under the auspices of the
new movement in life and religion. Etienne was left in 1531
in possession of a rich trading business at the age of twenty-
three : by his genius for affairs he spread its operations, till it
reached not only all over France, but to Africa and the New
World. He was ennobled in 1549, but his dazzling prosperity
made him enemies ; charges were trumped up against him, and
at one time he was condemned to exile and the confiscation of
all his goods. The disgrace shortly after of the unscrupulous
chancellor Poyet, who had issued this iniquitous decree, gave
Duval the opportunity of getting it annulled. His prosperity
became greater than before ; and he was able in 1553 to place
his country under great obligations to him by revictualling
and thus saving the town of Metz during its siege by the
Emperor Charles V. : the forethought and thoroughness with
which he accomplished this difficult task explain his success as
a merchant.
236 HOTELS OF THE RENAISSANCE CHAP.
Yet only two years later his enemies were at him again, and
it cost him much money and some durance in Caen castle
before he had shaken off their charges. Twenty years later, we
see him an old man, rich, respected, charitable, erect in bearing
as in conduct. At the age of seventy-one he died, leaving two
sons, the eldest of whom, Jacques, had already after an ad-
venturous career received many honours from the King, and
sixteen wounds from the Germans at Chalons-sur-Marne.
The extent of Etienne's establishment may be gathered by
walking through the tunnels just beyond the Cafe du Grand-
Balcon and looking at the houses which still remain behind the
cafe. But the two most interesting parts of this merchant-
palace are reached by the Cour de la Monnaie, a few yards
further on. In this court we come suddenly upon a small
but remarkable house on the right hand. This is the Hotel
de la Monnaie. It is, I think, the prettiest of them all ; the
two round towers are most charmingly disposed, and one hardly
knows which to like best, the plain one in the corner with its
round windows and elegant cornice, or the dainty central turret,
on the little cupola of which is a small broken statue. I suppose
when the restorers come this way, they will have no difficulty
in evolving an exact facsimile of this statue from their inner
consciousness.
Just across the street is the Imprimerie Domin, which
contains the Hotel de Mondrainville, a banqueting house, or
casino, set apart for feasts and pleasure : the three big arches
of its lower story must have made a fine dining-room ; and we
can just imagine what the whole place looked like, before any
buildings were near to block the view of the corner staircase
with its open dome, when it stood, separate from the rest of
the establishment, in a pleasaunce of its own.
The Le Valois, who built the Hotel d'Escoville, were also of
the Reformed Religion, and owed their riches to commerce.
Their successors in the hotel in 1606 were the Moisant,
another Huguenot merchant family. The second of this name,
IX THE H6TEL D'ESCOVILLE
237
Jacques Moisant, Sieur de Brieux, was a prominent writer,
critic, and Maecenas of his day, a learned man and a lover of
beautiful things : in his time the Hotel d'Escoville became a
brilliant centre of the literary world.
This Hotel of the Valois (now used as the Bourse) is the
most imposing of the Renaissance palaces, though the facade
opposite St. Pierre is defaced by the ensigns which modern
shopkeepers seem to consider necessary to the success of their
business, and the interior quadrangle is now undergoing res-
toration. It was built at the same time as that of Duval, to
wit, in 1537. Entering the courtyard, we have the most in-
teresting part of the hotel before us. Out of the roof rises a
huge dormer window which M. Palustre characterises as " la
plus grande et la plus magnifique lucarne qui soit jamais sorti de
r imagination d'un artiste" At one corner the principal
entrance leads to a winding staircase, of which the steps are
worn so thin that one seems to be walking on the clouds :
two handsome cupolas crown the staircase. On the right
wing statues are set between the windows, the oddly chosen
subjects being the two great beheaders David holding the
head of Goliath, and Judith that of Holofernes. They are
excellently carved, and so are the minor sculptures of Andro-
meda and Europa. It has been suggested that the coats of
arms above are a little too prominent, as if the artist knew
the weakness of the recently ennobled Valois.
The Hotel de Than, which is at the beginning of the Rue
St. Jean, is another product of the age of Frangois I. Its
windows have those intersecting mouldings that one notices in
a good many Caen houses ; and climbing in and out of the
weather mouldings are all manner of creatures, such as a snail, a
lion, and a dog biting a bone in a very dog-like fashion. The
medallions also are noticeable, and the gables, which are like
Palissy ware and may have been modelled on it.
Caen abounds also in less important houses, and in court-
yards, which we shall miss if we hesitate to explore those
238 HOUSES AND STREETS CHAP, ix
tunnels that one sees everywhere among the houses. For in-
stance, nearly opposite the Hotel de Than, at No. 37, Rue St.
Jean, one of these tunnels leads to a very fine late Gothic
house, which we may not even notice unless we turn right round
as soon as we have immerged into the court. There are num-
berless other dwellings, unknown to fame, as, for instance, the
nice little house next door to St. Jean, which bears the date
1739, and is a good example of the period. But there are
several which everybody goes to see, as the two richly carved
wooden houses, 52 and 54, Rue St. Pierre, and the other half-
timbered Maison des Quatrains in the Rue de Geole. In the
last street there is a small but remarkable stone house (No. 17),
which was built for the father of Jacques de Cabaignes, as he
tells us, by Abel le Prestre. There can be little doubt that this
house and the Maison des Gens d'Armes (p. 240), are by the
same artist : there are the same beautiful sculptured heads
within medallions, the same legends of conquest, Amor vincit
mundiim, Pudidtia vincit amorem, A in or vincit pudicitiam^
Fama vincit mortem (p. 291). On the lintel a monkey disports
himself with a dolphin.
I think that streets are better than houses, and the Rue de
Geole and the Rue Froide both beautiful themselves enclose
a charming group of old streets. An alley, the Venelle Bons
Amis, leads to the Rue des Teinturiers, and from here the more
aristocratic Rue des Cordeliers, which contains the Louis
XIII Hotel de Colomby, runs into the Rue Froide, where a
house, true to the traditions of Notre-Dame de Froide Rue,
sports two rival dormers, one Gothic and one classical.
But, in truth, the best charms of a town cannot be ticketed.
We must wander about for ourselves, and invite our souls ; and
we ran always end with a ride under the trees of the Grand
fours, where the Orne is ever full, and well kept gardens run
down to the river's brink.
Trouville, Inner Harbour,
CHAPTER X
CAEN TO HONFLEUR, PONT-AUDEMER, EEC, AND ROUEN
ARE there any who do not feel a certain pleasure at immerg-
ing into the full current of modern life, after long travel in
remoter parts, where one met only farmers and commercial
travellers, and saw little that had not some serious interest ? I
have known those who have come to long for the flesh-pots of
Egypt, whose hearts have gladdened at the sight of a casino,
from sheer weariness of Romanesque churches. Your soul,
good reader, is, I know, not made of such gross stuff; and yet
I shall not be surprised if you too find the ride from Caen to
Honfleur the most pleasant you have yet made. For the sea is
always lovely, and this particular journey is through the pret-
tiest and most varied roads that ever defied the wind.
It is difficult to describe the chain of plages that lie between
the mouths of the Orne and the Seine. The time when Isabey
and the paysagistes discovered the coasts of the Pays d'Auge
and Lieuvin is already the forgotten past ; for, as M. Robida
says in his engaging work, " La Vieille France," ten years suffice
in these parts to change the face of nature ; the villa villages are
24 o ON THE ROAD AGAIN CHAP.
like American cities in their mushroom -growth. They form, he
says, " le ''Far West' de la France, enfin, mats un Far West de
fanfasie, de luxe, et de high-life" Let us then be content to
think of this string of watering-places as un Far West de
high-life ; only it has this distinction, that its creators have been
careful to plant trees before they built their villas, and so have
avoided the bare and cheerless appearance which generally
accompanies seaside enterprise in England. The villas for
which the neighbourhood of Trouville is famous are replete with
architectural enormities, and are nearly all spoilt by a certain
pinched appearance which makes the best of them inferior to
such of our own domestic architecture as is free from the jerry
builder ; yet the beauty of the shores and the abundance of
greenery make these new stations balneaires almost worthy to
stand between the hills and the sea.
The journey from Caen to Honfleur is only thirty-four miles,
but ladies and lazy folk can go as far as Dives in the steam
"tramway," which is the pleasantest form of mechanical travelling
yet invented. Only they may then miss the very characteristic
view of Caen from the canal.
The canal is, indeed, a fresh experience. We turn off from
the inner basin where the ships are resting, and we find our-
selves in Holland, a broad stretch of blue water and an avenue
by the side. So it continues down to the sea, with slight de-
viations here and there on the one side the lazy water, and on
the other rows of silver beeches, with farms and orchards
beyond.
Hut we must turn off when we are a very little way out of
Caen to see our first villa. It is a good deal older and more
solid than those on the seashore, and even more fantastic. La
Maison des (lens d'Armes is its name, and it was built (I need
hardly say, in the reign of Francois I), by one Girard de
Nollent. The two battlemented towers connected by a battle-
mented wall look martial enough : but the queer stone figures
of men-at-arms (whence its name) tell us that nothing more
MAISON DES GENS D'ARMES
241
real than they ever threatened the passer by from the summits
of those towers. It was an expensive freak, even for that age,
and one cannot see much point in it, or much comfort either ;
but the medallions which are inserted in the merlons are really
worth seeing. Their borders, which show great inventive
power, contain heads of men and women, arrayed in most
varied caps and helmets. Some are of great beauty, as the two
which face down the road on the outside of each tower ; some
are curious, as the " three-headed " IANVS," or the woman
with two men kissing her. The meaning of this last is un-
certain ; she bears Nollent's initials " N. G." on her forehead.
There is a shield on one tower, and the salamander, Frangois
I.'s badge, can be traced on it. The legends of conquest
(p. 291) appear on several of the medallions.
The road by the canal leads straight on to Ouistreham, the
ancient port of Caen ; it is two or three miles out of our way,
for we shall have to come back to where the tram-line branches
off to the right in order to reach Dives. We can go right past
Ouistreham to the jetty by the sea, whence there is a fine view
of the curve where Cabourg, Villers, and Trouville lie at the
foot of the hills : Trouville is the last town in sight, but the
R
* 4 2 OUISTREHAM CHAP.
cape which shelters Le Havre at the further side of the Seine
mouth can be clearly seen in the distance.
The village of Ouistreham, which is about a kilometre inland,
stands on very ancient soil, as is testified by its Roman camp
and the many coins and pots that have been dug up. It
contains a fine specimen of a twelfth century Norman church.
The triforium is of unusual form, and under it runs a pretty
string which is one of the few bits of carving that the restoring
hand of Ruprich-Robert has not spoilt : there is a stoup in the
IV ailed Farm, near Caen.
south aisle formed by a dolphin standing on his head, with a
shell inserted on his tail.
Ouistreham is the scene of the last act of the Hundred
Years War ; for it was here that the English garrison, having
been forced to surrender Caen and make terms, embarked in
July, 1450, and sailed away from the country it had ruined.
In 1762 the English were about these parts again, Admiral
Rodney having been sent to reduce Havre and generally knock
the bottom out of the proposed invasion of England. It was at
Ouistreham that a French sergeant named Cabieu immortalised
himself. Rodney sent a party ashore to burn the village. Two
of the forts were already taken by surprise, when Cabieu, hearing
some shots which the defenders had managed to fire byway of
alarm, set out alone to meet the enemy. The night was dark.
Cabieu had not only his gun, but what was of more value, a
drum and a good voice. He fired his gun at the English,
CABIEU'S EXPLOIT
243
made a ter-
rific noise
with his
drum, and
shouted
words of
command.
The English
thought a
con side r-
able force
was upon
them, and
fled back to
their boats,
leaving one
officer
wounded
behind
them. For
many a long
year
le
brave Ca-
bieu" who
had saved
Ouistreham
from fire and
pillage, was
the hero of
these partS, The Church at Dives.
pensioned and praised by King, Convention, and Emperor in
turn.
Those who make a special excursion to Ouistreham from
Caen should return to Caen by the high road, passing near the
Norman church of Bieville, and a good specimen of the six-
244 DIVES CHAP.
teenth century manor or farmhouse which Mr. Pennell has
drawn for us. But to reach Dives on our way to Trouville we
have now to go back by the branch road and follow the tram-
line that leads past the sands and lagoons of the mouth of the
Orne. The villas soon begin to appear, and before reaching
Dives we pass outside Cabourg, which is shaped like a spider's
web, avenues of trees forming the web, while the Casino repre-
sents the hungry spider.
Dives is famous in history as the port from which William
the Conqueror sailed for England ; but, like Pevensey, where
Trouville.
he landed, it has long been deserted by the sea. It contains a
fine old inn, which is exceedingly charming, though the anti-
quary may shrug his shoulders at the imported curiosities
with which it is so profusely adorned. The church, too, is
good, but the most curious thing in Dives is the old market, a
long roof resting on a wooden framework ; it is not so beautiful
as the Halles of St. Pierre-sur- Dives, which we have already
seen, but is the largest in Normandy.
From Houlgate the road winds up among high hills to
descend into Villers-sur-Mer, another old village transformed
into a watering-place.
Trouville is now before us at the end of a level road, along
which the blustering motor-cars dash their anxious, spectacled
passengers, leaving a pungent smell and a cloud of dust behind
TROUVILLE
245
them. Villas and chalets abound, and we reach Deauville, the
town of villas, where rich Parisians take the air and the sea-
water in quiet seclusion. Trouville is just a collection of a few
streets, encircled by luxurious toy-houses, under a pretty hill ;
on one side is the river Touques, which separates it from
Deauville, on the other the beach itself, a Mosaic city of tents
upon the sand.
It is from Trouville that the prettiest part of the route begins.
The road goes through woods and gardens the whole way,
The Beach, Trouville.
keeping near the sea but rather high above it. The air is sweet
with the scent of flowers ; and as our ride is drawing to its close,
we see the red sun setting behind the sea through the gaps in
the trees, or through high hedges of wild clematis. We have
passed through many pleasant seaside towns, and the country
inland is full of pretty walks and interesting places ; but perhaps
the sweetest of all is Villerville, which is built in a cleft of the
hills some three miles beyond Trouville. From Criqueboeuf,
where a little ivy-covered church stands by the side of a large
pond, the road passes through tunnels of trees, and brings us at
last down to the curious old town of Honfleur.
Honfleur is a town of character. Although nothing remains
of the fortifications which went through the troubles of the
Hundred Years War, there is, near a row of curious high old
2 4 6
HONFLEUR
CHAP.
houses on the Quay, a singular fortress of the sixteenth century,
called the Lieutenance, which once, under the name of the
" Porte de Caen," kept watch against the invader. The neigh-
bouring walls are gone, and it looks peaceful enough now.
It once had a little belfry, but at present its only ornament is
Locking to-Mards Havre from Villcmillc.
an ancient Madonna, which was discovered in a cellar and set
up in 1863.
The most remarkable building in Honfleur is the timber
church of St. Catherine. Its tower stands right apart in the
middle of the market place, with a spreading base of quaint
shedding round its four sides. The church is entirely of
timber, with the exception of a monstrously incongruous
portico, and that is only a cemented sham. Some one also
thought fit (in the 'twenties) to cover the great beams that take
the place of piers with a lath and plaster casing which has the
semblance of a Doric column ; but even this could not
destroy the unique effect of the interior, which is like that of
some huge ship. The worst blow was when in 1879 the rest-
less demon prompted some architect to pull down the old
THE SAILORS' CHAPEL
247
choir and build a new one. This wrong cannot be undone,
but it will be easy to remove the lath and plaster. St. Catherine
consists of two naves, which were built in the second half of
HonJJeur: In the old Harbour.
the fifteenth century, and of two low aisles which were added
on either side in the sixteenth.
St. Leonard is worth seeing for its west front. The lower,
flamboyant, part has an exceedingly high tympanum. Over it is
a conspicuous clock, and a handsome classical tower which looks
so important that the front seems only to exist as a base to it.
On the hill behind Honfleur is a very old place of pilgrimage.
The chapel of Notre-Dame de Grace belongs to the seven-
teenth century, but the site is much older, and the time when
seafarers first began to make their vows here is lost in antiquity.
The chapel is a very pretty little building, with a gentle
I lie llarbcin; Ilonjleur.
CHAP. X
A CHOICE OF ROUTES
249
rusticity that accords well with the venerable elms that over
shadow its tower and hive-like porch.
There is not a patch of wall left bare inside ; every space is
covered with marble ex voto tablets, and with quaint pictures of
ships in terrific storms, presented by grateful skippers "Voeu
Honjieur.
fait a N tre - Dame de Grace" On the north of the chancel
arch is the much venerated image of our Lady, framed in an
armour of golden votive hearts.
There is from the terrace of Notre-Dame de Grace a fine
view of the hills on the opposite side of the Seine mouth,
where Le Havre, and Graville, and Harfleur spire can be
clearly seen.
If you want to shorten your travels you can cross over in the
steamer from Honfleur to Le Havre, and thence ride by the
Candebec road to Rouen. That is to say, if you have not
time to take the big loop from Honfleur to Rouen and then
back to Le Havre, you will have to cut the Pont-Audemer
road, since no one can afford to miss that by Caudebec.
Anyhow, I shall sketch the Pont-Audemer route rather
hurriedly, so as to bring it within this chapter. You can start
from Honfleur by Fiquefleur and then take the direct road to
'fewer of St. Catherine, Hotiflcuy,
CHAP. X
CULINARY RENOWN
251
Pont-Audemer (fifteen miles in all) ; or you can go three miles
further along the more interesting byway through Berville.
It is a pleasant ride through the Roumois country, for the
most part between fields of corn and clover, with a skirting of
forests as it gets near to Rouen ; and to the lover of things
beautiful it offers the pretty village of "Pont-Audemer itself,
Fishing Fleet, Honfleur Harbour.
with its remarkable church and lovely glass, the wood carving
and glass at Bourg-Achard, the church and rood-loft of
Moulineaux, and other things to be mentioned. Further-
more it admits of a digression from Pont-Audemer down the
pleasant valley of the Risle to Bec-Hellouin, whence the main
road may be regained above La Bouille, or less directly at
Bourg-Achard.
Pont-Audemer is no mean city. It claims the glory of one
of the great inventions of modern times, the sausage. Besides
inaugurating this delicacy, it has had since the fourteenth cen-
tury the distinction of giving birth to the founder of modern
cookery, Taillevent. This personage, "grand cuysinier du roy
de France" wrote the first cookery book in the French language,
252 PONT-AUDEMER CHAP.
Le Viandier Royal. The book lurked about in precious manu-
scripts till 1515, when the printer's art gave it to a hungry
world. It continued to be reprinted throughout the century,
but nowadays it is only useful as showing what progress the
science de la gueule (as Montaigne calls it) has made since the
simple age when Taillevent was the distinguished adviser of
Charles V. Not content with this claim to culinary renown,
Pont-Audemer also professes to have taught the pastrycooks of
France how to make the mirliton. But perhaps it is better to
let its reputation rest upon the ample foundations of its other
and greater discovery.
The nave of the magnificent unfinished church of St. Ouen
was begun about thirty years after Jeanne d'Arc had delivered
France. The English had been driven out of Pont-Audemer ;
the rich merchants had settled down to their leather and cloth;
and the sister arts of cookery and architecture regained their
ascendency. In 1483 the new church was commenced. The
work was carried on by the architects of Caudebec church in
1505, and to them is due the curious and delightful intermixture
of Renaissance ornament which had become possible in these
few years of rapid change. But, as so often in France, the
ambitious burgesses of Pont-Audemer showed a want of stay-
ing power, and their grandiose plans dwindled into indolence.
The small Norman choir escaped destruction, for no one had
the energy to raise a new one in its place, and it had to be
patched in the most prosaic manner on to the nave, leaving a
big empty wall space, now occupied by a fatuous picture of the
sacrifice of Isaac. The transepts were left incomplete ; the nave,
unvaulted and unfinished, has a makeshift clerestory a sort of
classical attic instead of the florid windows which were to
have continued the glories of the triforium. The architect
had planned a church that would have been wonderfully and
impossibly lofty : he was a man of genius, but one who did not
reckon whither his imagination was leading him ; and a com-
promise was inevitable at the finish. As for the west front, it is
x GLASS AT PONT-AUDEMER 253
as interesting and even more markedly frustrate, with only the be-
ginnings of the sumptuous gallery that was to have joined the
two towers a beautiful unfinished essay, and no more. You
can realise more of its profuse originality by studying its interior
arrangements in the Baptistery chapel, where a magnificent
balcony leads by a staircase (decorated even in its dark recesses)
to the external gallery.
The glass belongs to that Renaissance period when the art
reached such peculiar excellence, a beauty of strong and subtle
colouring even better than that of Gothic times, with a new
mastery of drawing that produced figures distinct and full of
life. Sometimes it reminds one of the best efforts of our own
Pre-Raphaelite artists, and it seems to me to be always the type
which modern glass should try to rival. The window in St.
Catherine's chapel (north aisle), is perhaps the best : the
mystical subjects of its three divisions are " Devant la loy"
Adam and Eve, Abraham ; " Soubz la loy" Moses, David,
Samson, Isaiah and the burning coal, Elijah and the raven
" Soubz la grace" a kneeling woman, representing the Church,
surrounded by saints, nobles, and the four evangelists ; above
is the Christ appealing to the Eternal Father, an asperges brush
in his left hand. In the south aisle are (i) The Confrerie du
St. Sacrement (life of St. Ouen in the upper lights) ; (2) The
Annunciation and Entombment, with date 1516; (3) Christen
the Lake, Death of St. Peter, Vision and Death of St. Paul, SS.
John, Sebastian, Antony, and James the Greater ; (4) Lives of
SS. John the Evangelist, Nicholas, and Eustace, in the German
style; (5) Death of our Lady, in the Italian style; (6) St.
John the Baptist, by a Rouen artist, 1535, in the Flemish style.
The church of St. Germain dates from the twelfth to the
fifteenth centuries, but has suffered much during the nineteenth.
There is an ox's head carved on the north wall, which is said
to commemorate an incident in the building of the church. A
merchant happened to be passing, on his way to Paris with a
herd of oxen, just as the foundations were being laid. On the
254
BEC-HELLOUIN
CHAP.
fM
KJ&S'
'^/!<
m
ChnrcJi of St. Oucn and Market, ront-Aiidemcr.
principle of stimulative generosity, which has been so much
developed in our own scientific age, he promised that on his
return from Paris he would give the price of one of his beasts,
if the wall had by that time reached above the altar. The
condition was fulfilled, the price was paid, and the mason set
up the carving as a memorial of the merchant's act.
Kvery student of history will be tempted to make the digres-
sion to Bec-Hellouin, the abbey of Bee, of special interest to
Englishmen as the home of two of our greatest archbishops,
X HERLWIN, FOUNDER OF EEC 255
Lanfranc and Anselm. And Bee has as great claims upon the
gratitude of the French, for to it more than any other place is
due the enormous progress both of learning and religion in
Normandy during the eleventh century. Before its foundation,
religion was at a very low ebb ; archbishops of Rouen as well
as humbler clergy led scandalous lives, monks were ignorant
and brutish, the half-pirate warriors who ruled Normandy were
worse, and, we are told, could not understand any one with a
whole skin thinking of religion. When Herlwin died in 1078,
the hundred and eighty monks whom he had got together at
Bee were spreading their good influence far and wide, and the
abbey had become a centre of education such as had never
been known in Normandy before. Both nations owe thus a
debt of gratitude to this great abbey, yet neither can claim
much share in the honour of its foundation. There is nothing
French about the name of Bec-Hellouin. The Beck or stream
of Herlwin is a name Teutonic enough, and Herlwin was a man
of the old Danish stock, with Flemish blood too, on his
mother's side, while Anselm and Lanfranc were Italians, and it
was Italian culture that they brought to the rude Northmen who
gave their name to Normandy. It was, indeed, to the cosmo-
politan hospitality of Bee that its special character is due :
"Burgundians and Spaniards," Orderic tells us, "strangers
from far and near, will answer for it how kindly they have been
welcomed."
And who was Herlwin, the man who founded so powerful
and comprehensive an institution ? He was a soldier whose one
ambition was to live humbly and forgotten and far from the
unbridled life of his peers. Entirely simple, for all his
experience of the world and natural gifts of practical wisdom,
his only thought was to worship in peace, when, at the age of
forty, he founded his first little retreat at Bonneville near
Brionne, digging the foundations with his own hands. When
this house was burnt down, he moved to the place on the
" beck " which is now for ever associated with his name.
2 5 6
LANFRANC
CHAP.
Herlwin and his two first companions were made monks
in 1034. It was not long before Lanfranc came to bring
the splendour of his gifts to the little community. A native
of Pavia, Lanfranc began
life as a lawyer whose skill
no adversary could resist.
After a while he left Italy
and the law, to become a
teacher. Wandering into
France, he heard that there
was great lack of learning
in Normandy, and much
money in consequence to
be made there : so he set
up a school at Avranches
and soon became a famous
professor. But he grew
tired of the world, forgot
his ambitions, and deter-
mined to seek refuge in the
poorest and most despised
monastery he could find.
He left Avranches secretly
for Rouen. As he was
going through a forest on
the banks of the Risle he was attacked by thieves, who
stripped him and tied him to a tree. There he stood all through
the night, bitterly regretting that he who had acquired such
lore of earthly things could not repeat from memory the night
offices of the Church. The morning found him with a deep-
ened purpose of self-dedication : and when some passing wood-
men released him, he begged them eagerly to tell him of some
convent that was very poor and despised. They sent him to
the little collection of sheds which sheltered Herlwin and his
monks. The soldier-abbot, who happened to be building an
x ANSELM 257
oven when Lanfranc presented himself, gave him a ready
welcome. Each soon learnt to admire the other ; while Herl-
win in his noble simplicity recognised with joy the superior
intellect of Lanfranc the new comer sat as a learner at his feet,
knowing that the abbot could teach him a wisdom which was
not to be learnt in the schools. In 1045 Lanfranc became
prior under Herlwin, and directed the internal affairs of the
monastery. His light could not be hid, and very soon Bee
became a centre to which scholars flocked from all countries.
It became also a nursing ground for bishops. Among the
novices who joined in Lanfranc's time was Anselm of Aosta,
who was destined to succeed him both at Bee and at Canter-
bury. He became prior when Lanfranc was sent to Caen
(p. 213), and held that office for fifteen years, till the death of
Herlwin, and then for fifteen years more Anselm remained at
'Bee as abbot. As Lanfranc was greater than Herlwin, so was
St. Anselm greater than Lanfranc. He embodied the highest
ideals of the Middle Ages. We Englishmen perhaps remember
him best as the archbishop who dared to thwart William Rums ;
but he was even greater as a thinker than as a statesman. To
a child-like singleness and tenderness of heart he joined, says
Dean Church in his life of the saint, " an originality and
power of thought which rank him, even to this day, among the
few discoverers of new paths in philosophical speculation." Let
me quote also a well-known passage from J. R. Green : " His
famous works were the first attempts of any Christian thinker
to elicit the idea of God from the very nature of the human
reason. His passion for abstruse thought robbed him of food
and sleep. Sometimes he could hardly pray. Often the night
was a long watch till he could seize his conception and write
it on the wax tablets which lay beside him. But not even a
fever of intense thought such as this could draw Anselm's heart
from its passionate tenderness and love. Sick monks in the
infirmary could relish no drink save the juice which his hand
had squeezed for them from the grape-bunch. In the later
258 DECAY AND REVIVAL CHAP.
days of his archbishoprick a hare chased by the hounds took
refuge under his horse, and his voice grew loud as he forbade
a huntsman to stir in the chase, while the creature darted off
again to the woods. Even the greed of lands for the Church
to which so many religious men yielded found its characteristic
rebuke, as the battling lawyers saw Anselm quietly close his
eyes in court and go peacefully to sleep."
The remaining history of the Abbey is like that of many
others. During the Hundred Years War troubles began. Its
position was a temptation to the combatants, who fortified it,
and fought for it, till it had changed hands more than once,
the monks being either killed or ejected, and the abbot at one-
time kept as a hostage at Rouen. When that war was over,
the world completed by patronage the harm it had begun by
pillage. The abbacy passed into the hands of great families,
whose scions did not disdain to suck this rich plum at the
price of a tonsure that was very lightly worn. The Abbot of
Bee's duties were restricted to using the title when he had not
a higher one, and drawing the salary in any case.
When the old foundation of Herlwin was stifled with its
fatal grandeur to the point of death, fresh blood was put into
it. In 1626 some monks of the reformed Congregation of St.
Maur were brought over from Jumieges, and a new era of pros-
perity began for the abbey, as the present buildings witness.
Once more Bee became famous for learning. It was a home
of Jansenist theologians, though at this time it can hardly
claim to have produced any great men, its one famous inmate,
the author of Manon Lescaut, having soon left the cloister for
which he was so unfitted.
Thus the great abbey passed into a serene old age, its
conventual buildings, so eloquent of the formal dignity of the
seventeenth century, tenanted by a community of monks who
spent well the immense revenues which they still enjoyed. The
Abbot, indeed, continued to be an occasional source of
scandal. At one time a royal prince, the Comte de Clermont,
x THE BELFRY 259
occupied this holy position. He is thus described by a contem-
porary : "// est abbe, et jouit de plus de 300,000 Hires de
benefices. II est cependant en habits brodes et galonnes avec une
bourse a ses cheveux, et deplus est lieutenant-general des armees du
ra."
It is difficult to decide whether the position is made better
or worse by the fact that he held his military command by
express permission of the Pope. But the irony of fate had
something worse in store. The last abbot of Bee, the last suc-
cessor of Herlwin, was Talleyrand !
As the end drew near, there must have been considerable
slackness in the community of Bee. For when in 1790 the
Revolution dissolved the legal force of monastic vows, only 27
monks were found in the cloister, and of these 18 took advan-
tage of the opportunity to start life afresh. Two years later
the nine faithful descendants of Herlwin and Anselm were
driven out of their palatial home, and the whinny of horses has
ever since taken the place of chanted prayer and psalmody.
It was not the Revolution, however, that destroyed the gor-
geous abbey-church, which had once been the rival of St. Ouen
itself, but the vulgar greed of the Empire. In 1809 it was
deliberately pulled down, and sold for old lead and stone. In
1817 the Norman chapter-house, the oldest part of the abbey,
was in like manner disposed of; it brought in the sum of
1,690 francs !
So it is that the only remaining parts of the Gothic buildings
are the belfry-tower and the abbey-gate. The former was
begun in 1467, in order to contain the bells, which were ren-
dering the church towers unsafe. It stands at some distance
from the site of the church, well buttressed in massive solitude,
as though its builders were determined to have no more trouble
from their bells. Its proportions cannot, however, be fairly
judged now, for it once carried a wooden bell-chamber. A
round staircase turret on one side, with a queer Chinese-looking
Stone top, relieves the severity of this stately tower ; on the
S 2
26o
ABBEY BUILDINGS AT BEC
CHAT.
The Rclfrv, //,v
buttresses are
statues of
saints, whose
names are
very distinctly
set forth in
graceful let-
tering of split
flint Such
instances of
the use of
flint, familiar
enough to
Englishmen,
are exceed-
ingly rare in
France. The
abbey-gate is
one of those
charming bits
of originality
that every-
body is tempt-
ed to make a
picture of ; it
w a s built
about 1485,
Hoissy, who was
was used as a
but the arms are those of the Cardinal de
"abbot" in 1516: the tower on the right
prison, that on the left as a porter's lodge.
The great classical abbey buildings are now a cavalry
depnt, and one of the troopers will be glad to conduct you
round them. They have all the spacious dignity of their period.
The cloister was finished in 1666. The refectory, an enor-
mously long room, now divided into stalls for the horses, was
x BOURG-ACHARD 261
not completed till 1747. In a field to the north is the entrance
to the remarkable cellars of the abbey. The church of the
pretty village contains the tomb of Herlwin, and a few relics of
the later abbey, among which is a fine tabernacle door with the
Descent from the Cross in enamel.
Although nothing is left of the days of Herlwin and Lanfranc,
the place itself, which lies so prettily by the stream in its small
and fertile valley, is the best memorial of the founders of Bee.
A few miles further up, at Brionne, the warriors held their
castle ; but here all was quiet and gentle, and here the monks
came to settle, because they found, as they would find still to-
day, the three things they needed wood, water, and peace.
Bourg-Achard lies straight on the high road from Pont-
Audemer to Rouen, and you may pass its church without
thinking to penetrate beyond the Sham-Flamboyant exterior.
A newly-built tower fell in 1829, and destroyed most of the
church, which was then rebuilt as you see. Yet the early
sixteenth century choir remains with its windows and curious
stalls, where, till the Revolution, the Austin Canons used to sit,
and there is some more glass, as well as the carved panels, in
the transepts. These panels, which are late fifteenth century,
represent the life of St. Eustace, as is fully described on the
printed notices ; it would be hard to find better workmanship
anywhere, finer costumes or nobler faces.
The glass, too, is of the very best. Look, for instance, at
the blue drapery of the Madonna in the Jesse of the north
transept, and the purples of the angels in the upper lights of that
window. And look at the big window of the choir. In the centre
is the sacrifice of Christ ; in the north light the story of the
Magdalen ; Mary at the tomb ; Mary washing Christ's feet (a
good sixteenth century interior), with Christ at Emmaus, Mane
nobiscum, and above Noli me tangere. In the south light St. John
is pictured in glass that is a few years later in date. The church
also possesses a lead font which is ascribed to the twelfth cen-
tury. A few miles after Bourg-Achard, just before the cross-
262 THE BATTLE OF MOULINEAUX CHAP.
roads where the Maison Brule'e stands, is a monument bearing
a statue of a soldier of the garde-mobile, which was erected to
the men who were killed in the Battle of Moulineaux during
the Franco-Prussian war. The fighting, named after the village
of Moulineaux, took place in December and January, 1870-1.
The Prussians, who had occupied Rouen, took possession of
the road as far as Pont-Audemer without opposition. A French
column, working for the relief of Rouen, drove the Prussians
back on to Moulineaux on December loth. On December
2oth the French took La Bouille, Orival, and the Castle of
Robert-le-Diable, and then descended upon Moulineaux, as the
Prussians retreated upon Grand Couronne'.
It was a terrible winter. The country was covered deep
with snow, and a bitter frost added to the miseries of warfare.
The French, with the carelessness that was so fatal to them
all through the war, waited cheerfully for the opportunity of
marching on to Rouen. The colonel in particular who w r as in
command at the Maison-Brulee took no precautions, but gave
himself up to drunkenness. The Germans, on the other hand,
had carefully entrenched themselves, and waited for the moment
to strike. At first their unhappy foes thought they had to deal
with a fugitive army : the detachment that had seized Mouli-
neaux marched on to Grand Couronne, thinking that the
enemy were in flight. Half a mile before Couronne was an
entrenchment it had been made some time before to prevent
the Prussians entering Rouen ! When the French reached this,
they found it filled with Prussian cannon, and were caught in
an unexpected and murderous fire. They retired back upon
Moulineaux, leaving many dead behind.
In the evening of January 3rd, when a fine snow was falling
through the frosty air, some 8,000 Prussians hurried out of
Rouen with 40 cannon. They rested awhile at Grand Couronne,
and then, whilst it was still night, threw themselves on the
French position. The French troops were entirely surprised ;
they had rested in a stupid security, and were scattered up and
THE HORRORS OF WAR
263
down the road incredible as it may seem as far as Pont-
Audemer, while most of the officers, with the best troops, were
at Bourg-Achard, instead of at the front by Moulineaux. An
insufficient force, badly commanded, had to meet the horrors
of a night attack in a forest ; the young conscripts, dotted
about among the trees in darkness and uncertainty, were easily
broken, and the Battle of Moulineaux was lost. An eye-witness
has left us an account of the crowd of French citizens who
walked out of Rouen until they were stopped by a Prussian
outpost before Grand Couronne, and there, in the awful un-
certainty of the surrounding thunder, waited six hours in the
snow for news of the battle. It came in the form of a pro-
cession of carts, some piled up with guns and sabres trophies,
others full of wounded French prisoners. The cry went up,
" Ainsi, toujours, toujours battus ! " and the crowd threw them-
selves on the carts where their countrymen lay, and covered
them with coins and presents. The writer tells us of one
young man to whom he gave a handful of silver. " It is use-
less," the soldier replied ; " I have no longer need of anything.
Look ! " He threw open his cloak, and showed a ghastly wound.
Then he gave the civilian his mother's address, and begged him
to write to her. Next day the lad died in the Hotel-Dieu,
The French had hoped that the army at Le Havre (which,
as a matter of fact, was paralysed by contradictory orders)
would have co-operated with the troops at Moulineaux, and
have relieved Rouen, which at the moment of the fight had
only 1500 Prussians left in it. But this check was fatal to
their plans ; the enemy had made good the line of defence
which they had thrown across the peninsula from Elbceuf to
La Bouille, and the investment of Paris was secure. On
January 28th Paris capitulated, on March ist the preliminaries
of peace were signed, but the Germans did not leave Rouen
till July 22nd in that disastrous year of 1871.
The Forest of La Londe is none the less green for all the
powder that was burnt in it, and that corner of the forest where
the Maison Brulee is situate has long been a favourite resort
264 LA BOUILLE AND MOULINEAUX CHAP.
of the cheerful citizens of Rouen. It is, indeed, an attractive
resting place, and I would recommend a longer stay did I not
fear that you will go and spoil the once unsophisticated little
inn. The road to Rouen is crossed here by the road from
Brionne to La Bouille, which latter place lies at the foot of the
beautiful hill and on the banks of the Seine, a grand little
village where water parties used to feast in the days of Watteau,
as they do in greater number now that the steamers run so
frequently from Rouen. The Forest of La Londe lies endlessly
around ; other forests, Rouvray and Roumare and Brotonne,
are within short reach of the cyclist, who can easily scour the
country from Caudebec to Les Andelys, from Bec-Hellouin to
beyond Rouen. Furthermore, hidden away at the back of
the Maison Brule'e, is one of the sweetest little hamlets in
Normandy, and nobody ever sees it.
Having refreshed yourself at one of the cool tables under
the trees at Maison-Brule'e, you will soon reach the long
"coast" down to Moulineaux. Half way down the hill are
more cross roads, and near them is the Chateau de Robert-le-
Diable, which is one of the positions for which the Prussians
fought. Duke Robert used to haunt the place under the guise
of a gaunt and hoary wolf, and perhaps he roams there still.
But it is hidden away in private grounds, and there is not
much to see even if you should gain admission; so you must
content yourself with the lovely view from the cross roads of
the country at your feet, and then run down the steep re-
mainder of the hill into Moulineaux, where there is a perfect
specimen of an Early French village church, with lancet windows
and stone vaulting. It contains a panelled flamboyant rood-
loft (with classical work on the east side) in excellent condition ;
the screen, indeed, is gone, but the mortises into which it fitted
remain under the loft. A rich spiral staircase, panelled in
the same style, leads to the loft, which is capacious like the
staircase. The rood remains intact, with the figures of Mary
and John on branches at either side. Opposite to the stair-
case is an octagonal pulpit in the same style. There is another
PETIT-QUEVILLY
265
typical church near our road, the Chapelle de St. Julien at Le
Petit- Quevilly, an industrial suburb of Rouen. It was founded
by Henry II. in 1183, and is one of the best examples of a
small Norman chapel. On the vault of its apse there are most
precious frescoes which belong also to the end of the twelfth
century ; they represent (E.) the Sleep of the Magi, (S.E.) the
Chateau near La Bouille*
Flight into Egypt, (S.W.) the Baptism of Christ, and other
subjects less distinct ; chemical analysis has proved that white
of egg was used to apply the colours, which are blue, ochre,
green, black, white, and the usual reddish-brown. The white-
wash, which was laid on when the chapel became a stable
at the Revolution, has been but recently removed.
But before Petit-Quevilly and Rouen are reached, you have
to pass through Petit-Couronne, where a little to the left of the
high road stands the Maison Corneille, an excellent specimen
of a small country house of the seventeenth century, with a
bakery, and a well, and all its rooms complete. It has a little
of the French stiffness (so marked in the modern villas with
their fretful ridges), but is charming enough, and nothing could
give one a better idea of the life of the time than its pretty
rooms, filled as they now are with old furniture, some of which
266 THE HOUSE OF CORNEILLE CHAP, x
belonged to Corneille himself, including the very table on
which he wrote. For it was here that Pierre Corneille, the
great tragedian, spent his boyhood, and here he did most of
his work. His father, who was the keeper of woods and forests
for the Vicomte of Rouen, had bought the house in 1608;
and over the gateway was once a small room whence the elder
Corneille could watch the Forest of Rouvray ; the loopholes in
the walls are said also to have served the same purpose.
A more ideal place for a poet's home could hardly be
imagined. On the one side is the forest, a delightful haunt
now for the cyclist : on the other is the great river, with hills
and more forests beyond, while around is that fair meadow-
land which lay mapped out in all its visionary loveliness at
your feet as you came down from the Maison Brulee. Rouen,
where Pierre had been educated in the Jesuits' school, was easily
reached, though he soon gave up his unwelcome legal practice
there ; and, indeed, neither the story nor the spires of that
romantic town could have had much attraction for the master
of classical drama, nor could its gay society have been
pleasant to such a shy and awkward man. To the world,
he was haughty and sensitive ; and yet to the peasants
who had been the playfellows of his boyhood, he was always
"/<? bonhomme Corneille^ the simple country gentleman, who
lived here quietly with his brother Thomas, himself also a
famous playwright. The two brothers had married two sisters,
and the double family seems to have been happy, though Pierre
was not of a contented nature, "Je suis saoul de gloire et affame
d argent " he complained, and not without justice, perhaps, for
he never received more than t\vo hundred louis for a play.
This was one reason why he worked so hard in this undis-
turbed retirement too hard in fact. No one could write fifty
thousand lines of verse without giving some justification to that
criticism of Molicru. " My friend Corneille has a familiar
who comes now and then, and whispers in his ear the finest
verses in the world, but sometimes the familiar deserts him,
and then he writes no better than any one else."
The new Rouen.
CHAPTER XI
ROUEN
ROUEN is rather a museum of antiquities than an ancient
city. Really it is a modern manufacturing town, the French
Manchester, with just a core of ancient buildings remaining.
To see a mediaeval town you must go elsewhere in Normandy,
to small places like Domfront or Mont-St.-Michel ; in Rouen
you will only find a few great buildings, a few fast-disappearing
streets and picturesque corners here or there, and many
tourists wandering through busy crowds that reck little of the
past. The buildings that remain are, indeed, of supreme
excellence, and travellers in Normandy will always go to see
them ; but the last half-century has changed the face of Rouen :
the pot of iron has smashed the pot of clay. Boulevards, in-
deed, still preserve the lines of the old walls ; but the imperious
needs of a big modern centre, together with the passion for
straight frontages and the laws of uniformity (that not long ago
even enforced the whitening of red bricks) have left little of the
venerable city, which was within living memory so rich in houses
of the Renaissance, and once contained within its walls and
turretted gateways thirty-five parish churches, thirty-four mon-
268
THE CRYPT OF SAINT-GERVAIS
CHAP.
asteries, a great castle on its higher ground, and a palace with
five towers down by the river.
It would be useless to attempt to work through Rouen in
any historical order, and it is impossible in this chapter to do
more than touch on the places that are
to be seen, and a few of the events
connected with them. Fortunately,
however, those who wish to read the
history of the city and to give further
study to its monuments, can now pro-
vide themselves with the " Story of
Rouen," by Mr. Theodore Andrea
Cook. I will only say here, by way of
introduction, that the fascinating Muse'e
d'Antiquites at the top of the Rue
de la Republique is the proper place
from which to commence the study of
the town's history ; that, and the
church of St. Gervais, a brand-new
specimen of the fashionable Night-
mare-Norman style of architecture,
which yet contains, hidden under its
pavement, a crypt of the fourth or fifth
century. You will have to plunge into
the chilly darkness down a flight of
steps (and every other step represents a
century) till you reach the burying place
of St. Mellon, the tiny chapel that is
so affecting in its contrast with the soaring triumphs of
mediaeval Christendom. Round this sacred place there
gathered the monastery of St. Gervais, where William the
Conqueror was brought out to die.
All visitors to Rouen make straight for the Cathedral, but
most find themselves under the Grosse-Horloge before they get
there. So (since historical order is out of the question for us)
THE GROSSE-HORLOGE
269
I will first point out this most characteristic feature of the town,
and that very briefly. The Grosse-Horloge, part archway, part
house, and part clock, is but one member of a charming group
which contains, besides the belfry, the curiosity shop and the
fountain. It is the centre
of the life of old Rouen,
and there is nothing any-
where else quite like it
even now when most of the
old houses have been wan-
tonly swept away. One of
those sculptured dwellings
has been set up behind the
Tour St. Andre (p. 290) to
show us how the tradesmen
of the Renaissance could
house themselves.
The Grosse - Horloge,
whose charm you will be
sure to appreciate, was
built in 1529, but it hides a
clock of the fourteenth
century, one of the oldest
in France. Its gay dial is
surrounded by a circle of
clouds. Over the arch is
the Agnus Dei, part of
the city arms, and (also with reference to the arms) on the vault
a medallion of the Good Shepherd sculptured in high relief,
curious in its proportions and attitude, with a pretty setting of
landscape and browsing sheep. The belfry, which was built
in 1389, once carried a wonderful erection in leaded wood-
work, but when this became a source of danger to the inhabi-
tants below, it was replaced by the present humble cupola.
The belfry, like that of Evreux (p. 47), was a sign of the
The Grosse-Horloge.
270
ROUEN CATHEDRAL CHAP.
burghers' power ; it was rebuilt to replace an older one that
was destroyed in 1382 by Charles VI., because one of its bells,
La Rouvel, had given the signal for the revolt of the Harelle.
La Rouvel and its companion, Cache-Ribaud, still hang in the
tower that was built for them, and Rouvel (sometimes called
Cloche d' Argent) still rings the curfew every evening at nine
o'clock.
At the foot of the belfry is the little toy house of three
stories that is now used as a curiosity shop. It is the
quaintest, prettiest jewel of homely architecture in Rouen, and
this corner of the town owes more to it than is generally realised.
Next is the fountain, which was set up in the place of an older
one by Montmorency, Duke of Luxembourg, in 1728. It
represents the story of Arethusa, the nymph who was changed
by Artemis into a fountain to save her from the attentions of
the river-god Alpheus, who then pursued her into the sea.
Alpheus is, of course, the Seine, and Arethusa stands for the
fountain one of the many for which Rouen was famous.
I suppose few people stand before the west front of Rouen
Cathedral without some feeling of disappointment. There is,
for one thing, hardly room to see it ; and then what we do see
is so disordered an epitome of all the Gothic styles. The north
tower, built soon after 1 1 60, marks the first development of
Gothic architecture from the Romanesque ; the other was
finished as Gothic died in the sixteenth century. The aisle
doorways are twelfth century, the four square turrets are thir-
teenth, the tabernacle work is fourteenth, the rose-window is
late fifteenth, the central porch was carved after the Renaissance
had dawned in France, and the two pinnacle-shaped buttresses
belong to the same period. Last year there were two similar
buttresses, made in 1824, blocked out for unachieved carving,
and a singular blot on the whole front. Now one of these is
being replaced by a less obtrusive buttress, and no doubt the
other will soon go. This piece of brand-new work shows how
much the old suffers from time, \\hich usually deals so kindly
XI
with ancient
buildings ; for in
truth the stone
has weathered
badly. Instead
of the willow-
green colour
which tones
many an English
wall, the stone
here looks dirty
and dusty so
dusty that the
over-fine tracery
of the gable of
the central porch
is suggestive of
some great cob-
web.
The Tour de
Beurre is famous
for its beauty,
and also because
it is said to have
been built from
money paid for
the leave to use
butter in Lent,
THE TOUR DE BEURRE
Street of the Clock, Rouen.
though in truth the lion's share was contributed by the
Archbishop and Chapter. It was begun in 1487 by Pontifz,
who twenty years earlier had finished the old north tower,
the Tour St. Romain, with a top story and hatchet roof.
There was a tradition that under the cathedral was a
subterranean lake ; and Pontifz was told to build the new
tower on piles, which he refused to do, having no faith in
272 TORTAIL DE LA CALENDE CHAP.
the superstition. When he had laid the foundations, water
appeared sure enough, and the wiseacres chuckled ; as he went
on, the tower began to lean over, and made cracks by the
porch of St. Etienne. But Pontifz, undismayed, patched up
the masonry and continued to build. After he had raised the
first two stones, Jacques le Roux helped him, and it was
Jacques who, after his death, finished off the work with the
octagonal lantern in 1507.
When the Tour de Beurre was finished, Jacques, assisted now
by his nephew Roland le Roux, put the central part on to the
great porch. Desolbeaux carved the Jesse, and with a band of
helpers did the rest of the marvellous sculpture. They had
not long finished when the Calvinists came to mutilate the
statuary.
If we go round now to the south side of the cathedral, and
stand in the Place de la Calende, we have before us the best
feature of the cathedral, the Portail de la Calende. It was
built by Davi in 1280, and its superiority to the later south
porch of St. Ouen is obvious. That porch is good, but it has
not the sensibility of this. I need not dwell upon its virtues :
we travellers give a moment's glance at work that took years of
devoted labour, that expresses a whole age with its every day
facts and its aspirations for the morrow. In those tiny square
panels that cover the lower parts in such profusion are exqui-
sitely carved reliefs which illustrate scenes from the Golden
Legend and from the Bible, and give us the ideas of men who,
for all their imagination, were keen observers of life and full of
humour. The sculptures in the tympanum are easy for any one
to understand ; perhaps the noblest of them all is the Descent
into Hades.
From here you have a good view of the two western towers,
and you will notice that the porch has also two towers all to
itself. A little further to the east a noticeable building rests
against the church. It is massive and plain in its lower
story, but has graceful Early French windows above, in
XI
THE LADY CHAPEL
273
pairs with a circle in
plate-tracery and curious
leaves on the mouldings.
It is now the vestry, but
was once the chambre
du semainier. The canon
in residence was not al-
lowed to quit the sacred
building during the week
he was on duty ; but as
there were fifty canons
the good man could use
this opportunity to make
the annual retreat of one
week which was incum-
bent on him. The sober
little sacristy further to
the east is twelfth cen-
tury, but its round-
headed windows are
only about two hundred
years old. The Lady
Chapel is an excellent
specimen of Decorated
architecture, and was
begun soon after the
north porch was finished,
in 1307. On its roof
stands a leaden statue of our Lady, which is a masterpiece
of Nicolas Quesnel, an example of what can be done in that
pleasant material, and one of the best works of the sixteenth
century. My only regret is that we cannot climb up to see it.
From here we can see the great central tower, whose huge
buttresses show that from the beginning it was intended to
carry a great weight. Roland le Roux gave it the top story,
Tour St. Roinain.
274 INSIDE THE CATHEDRAL CHAP.
and. intended to finish his work with a stone spire. But after
twenty years more moderate counsels prevailed, and a wooden
spire was built. This spire, one of the finest of its kind, stood
till 1822, when it was struek by lightning and burnt. Next
year was begun the iionfflche, which waited for its completion
till 1876, and is one of the greatest trials that the cathedral has
to bear.
To get near to the church again, we have to go right round to
the north, and through the Portique des Libraries (a bold screen
which Pontifz built in 1484) to the Portail des Librairies, which
has nearly all the great qualities of its fellow on the south, and
is also by Davi. Among its countless carvings may be noticed
the very life like monsters among the small panels, and the Judg-
ment above with its impartial distribution of mitres among the
saved and the lost, and its two beautiful groups of angels
raising up the holy souls. The court in front of this porch,
the ("our des Librairies, was once a busy place, and the arcade
on the east side was used by the booksellers of bygone days
for the display of their wares.
There is something vastly depressing in the way one is
dragged out of quiet places, and paraded round the cathedral.
The only remedy is to go in the early morning, when it is
being used for purposes of worship. Of course you cannot walk
about much at this time that must be done later under
escort but you can take in the spirit of the place; you will
then see its character before its curiosities, and avoid the pit-
fall of most visitors, who do not accomplish much beyond the
tour of its tombs. In these early hours one can feel the life of
the cathedral as it was ages ago, untroubled by modernity;
it is impressive in its unpolished bigness ; it has more surprises,
more history, more faults than St. Ouen. You can study in
the north aisle the fine blue glass of the Decorated period, you
can mark the beauty of the clustered shafts round the piers,
especially of those which give lightness even to the huge sup-
ports of the central tower. The faults, too, are easy to see
XI
FOUR LINES OF CAVIL
275
P or tail dc la C ale tide.
the shapeless capitals of the large choir pillars, which have the
defects peculiar to the Early French style, and the passage of
the lower triforium in the nave, which is carried behind the
piers on a clumsy scaffolding of shafts. One of the finest
T 2
276 GEORGES D'AMBOISE CHAP.
things in the cathedral, the carving of the misericords, is easily
missed, as you have specially to ask for the stalls to be shown.
The rest of the woodwork is gone, but the misericords remain to
show all the costumes, tools, and trades of the period in which
they were carved (145769), shepherds with their bagpipes,
carpenters, doctors, shoemakers, reapers, and a host of other
things, eighty-eight in all. The cloister, too, is not shown.
According to Viollet-le-Duc, it is the finest there is with an
upper story, but a notice in English tells us that it is " Defence
to enter without permission."
I must say something about the two great tombs, although
you are certain to have them expounded by the Suisse. You
will be first attracted by the tomb of the Cardinals d'Amboise,
whose colossal size and infinite detail overwhelm the curious
visitor. This tomb is entirely of marble, for what looks like
alabaster is really a transparent variety of marble ; it had deco-
rations of gold on a blue ground, and its statues were coloured.
The statues are admirably carved, from the expressive figures of
the little monks to the living portraits of the two cardinals. It
was for the great Georges d'Amboise that the monument was
made. 1520 5, and no statue of his nephew, the second
Georges, appeared till 1541 ; indeed, the present statue of the
nephew seems to have been added some ten years later ; for in
1550, on the eve of his death, his vanity induced him to order
in his v;ill a new statue, dressed not as archbishop but as
cardinal. Roland le Roux was the architect of the monument,
and several sculptors worked at the various figures, including
Desolbeaux : but it is safer to omit the name of Goujon.
Georges d'Amboise the first is gratefully remembered in
Rouen as a wise and splendid benefactor, a sanitary reformer
in the matter of the water supply, a builder in the Tour de
JJeurre, the cathedral facade, and the bishop's palace. But he
has a wider fame in history ; throughout the reign of Louis XII.
he was the true ruler of France, and he governed well. "Laissez
faire a Georges" kindly, indolent Louis used to say ; and, when
xi THE CHAPELLE DE LA FIERTE 277
Georges was gone, evil days began for France. There he kneels
before us, a man of sterling sense, broad-minded, kind, upright
in a crooked age.
Opposite is the tomb of Louis de Breze, begun some fifteen
years later. I do not think there can be a shadow of doubt that
it is the finer of the two ; and I was hardly surprised to notice
the other day that the Century Dictionary has chosen it as an
illustration of the word 'renaissance.' Its virile proportions
are something quite different to the rather shapeless elabora-
tion of the Cardinals' tomb. Good as its detail is, it never loses
the grace of simplicity ; and each part is in admirable relation-
ship to the pomp of the equestrian figure. The monument is
in black marble and alabaster ; its authorship is uncertain,
though the names of Jean Goujon, Cousin, and Quesnel are
often linked with it. The corpse which lies on the sarcophagus
may be by Goujon : at its feet is the figure of the Blessed
Virgin, almost hidden behind the columns. Kneeling over its
head is the widow, none other than Diane de Poitiers. She it
was who set up this monument, the famous widow who consoled
herself by becoming the elderly mistress of the Dauphin, mis-
tress indeed of France itself even before the Dauphin became
Henri II. Her inscription might be shorter than that of Louis
de Breze' : a Latin rhyme summed up the opinion of France
"The people spares Henri," it ran, "but curses Anne; Diane
it hates, and yet more the Guises." Dianam odit.
The Place de la Haute-Vieille-Tour, a great high-roofed,
sober-walled square between the Cathedral and the river,
contains a curious monument called the Chapelle de la
Fierte St. Remain. This beautifully proportioned little pile
of six open stages is a chapel in a very limited sense, as it was
built (1543) solely for the annual ceremony of the Privilege de
St. Romain.
For the origin of this " Privilege," which was quite unique in
France and one of the chief glories of Rouen, we must plunge
into legend ; though it is certain that the story of St. Romain
278 ST. ROMAIN AND THE GARGOYLE CHAP.
and the Gargoyle is really the child and not the parent of
the Privilege, since the Privilege existed in the twelfth century,
and no mention of the Gargoyle can be found till two hundred
years later. The Gargoyle was a fearsome dragon who deso-
lated the country during the episcopate of St. Remain, eating
several persons every day. At last St. Remain went forth to
tackle the monster, taking with him a criminal who had been
condemned to death. The Gargoyle became instantly meek
when the bishop conjured it, whereupon he tied his stole
round its neck, and bade the criminal lead the beast to
Rouen, where advantage was taken of its good nature to push
it into the river and so finish its career. The stole and the
criminal, by the way, do not come into the story till 1485.
Such fables occur in many places : St. Marthe vanquished a
dragon called the " Tarasque " at Tarascon, St. Radegonde
had her ''Grand' Gueule " at Poitiers, St. Loup or St. Vigor
went through a similar experience at Bayeux. It is easy to
see how they grew up out of metaphor the monster that St.
Romain did effectually destroy in Neustria was paganism ;
and this tendency was increased by the symbolic use of
dragon-standards in processions. \\c have seen one such at
Iayeu\, and in our own Salisbury the draco was carried round
at the same season of the year as the Rouen ceremony. The
story of St. Romain is told in the stained glass of the south
transept and also of the loth bay of the south aisle of the
Cathedral ; at the church of St. Godard, where the saint was
formerly buried, it is more clearly given in the last window of
the north aisle, where Romain is shown driving the false gods
from a heathen temple, stopping the Seine from a threatened
inundation, restoring the broken flasks of holy oil, capturing
the Gargoyle, and receiving from king Dagobert the charter
that gave th-j Privilege of St. Romain.
This Privilege was that the Chapter of Rouen Cathedral
should have power to release a condemned criminal every
Ascension Day. They carried it out in the following manner.
XI
SEARCHING THE PRISONS
279
The first step was the " insinuation " of the Privilege. Four
canons, wearing their surplices and fur almuces, with four
chaplains, preceded by a verger in a gown half red and half
violet who carried a silver verge, went to the Parlement in the
Palais de Justice to proclaim or insinuer the right of the
Rouen from Bon Secours.
Chapter. The next step was to search the prisons. This was
done on the three Rogation days. As the Rogation pro-
cession was going round the city, two canons with two
chaplains, a secretary and a verger, dropped solemnly out of
the ranks and proceeded to one of the prisons. The gaoler
received them in a room prepared with herbs and flowers,
where he took oath that all his prisoners were in the gaol ;
then he departed from the precincts, leaving the clergy alone
with the keys. Every cell was then visited ; each prisoner was
asked the cause of his imprisonment and invited to make
depositions ; kneeling before a crucifix he swore to tell the
truth, and the secretary wrote down his statements, all being
under a vow of secrecy. In this way the three mornings
were spent, every prison being carefully visited, and after the
2 8o THE PRIVILEGE AT WORK CHAP.
morning's work the senior canon entertained his colleague, the
chaplains and the secretary at dinner.
Ascension Day was opened with a sermon for the benefit of
the people who came from all parts, even from England, to
swarm in the narrow streets of Rouen. Meantime the serious
business of the day began. The Chapter met at eight o'clock
in the chapter-house, and chose the favoured prisoner by vote.
His name was written on a paper called the cartel d' election
and sealed. The Chaplain of St. Romain took the cartel off
to the Parlement ; and the Chapter sat down to a splendid
dinner. In the meanwhile the members of the Parlement
had been getting to work. Dressed in their red robes, pre-
ceded by four ushers in red and one in violet, and escorted by
soldiers (in later times the arquebusiers formed one company
of the escort) they went to the Salle des Procureurs (now the
Salle des Pus-Perdus) in the Palais de Justice. Here the
Messt (fit J'risonnicr was sung with great pomp, the Arch-
bishop assisting. After Mass, they too sat down to a splendid
dinner ; it was even more profuse than that of the canons, and
was called the festin dn cocliou, after the principal dish. At
the well chosen moment when the Daniels of the Parlement
had dined, the Chaplain of St. Romain arrived with the cartel
to ask the consent of the Parlement to the Prisoner's release ;
he was accompanied by the Provost and four companions of
the Confraternity of St. Romain.
Permission having been given, the Prisoner was fetched up,
his chains clanking on one leg only. He knelt bareheaded
in the gilded room before that august assembly, and then
underwent an examination, after which the judges decided
that the case was ficrtabk if it was for lese-majeste was ex-
cluded, and Henri \\ '. (of all people) added heresy and some
other offences to the exceptions. Then the bells of the city
rang out joyfully. The happy Prisoner was led to the Maison
du Hallage, where he made his confession to the Chaplain,
and, if need were, was clad in decent clothes. His pro-
xi THE PRISONER'S TRIUMPH 281
cession then went to the Place de la Haute-Vielle-Tour where
it met the ecclesiastical procession at the foot of the Chapelle
de la Fierte. Up the steps and on to the platform went the
select few, the Prisoner with his chains now wound round one
arm, the Archbishop, the celebrant and his assistants, and
two chaplains carrying the reliquary, the chasse de St. Romain.
The prisoner knelt and said the Confiteor. Then he took the
chasse on his shoulders and raised it three times solemnly
before the assembled multitude. He was free !
A great shout went up from the people, excited by the
long suspense, deeply stirred by pity, and delighted as folk
always are delighted when a deus ex machina frustrates a far-
gone tragedy. And what could be more dramatic than this
scene ? The murderer snatched from the gallows which very
likely he had never deserved, exultant after so near a sight of the
bitterest of deaths; the smiling ecclesiastics, happy in their
work of mercy, happy too in their triumph, their signal
privilege for which they had often fought with judges and
with kings ; the vast crowd delirious with a touching enthu-
siasm ; above it all the bells clanging out in the bright May
sunshine. And how gorgeous was the setting, as the pro-
cession started back for the cathedral, along the path that
pikes and halberds made for it; first the charity children,
then the clergy with the reliquaries and banners of the thirty-
two parishes of Rouen ; the crosses and incense and torches,
and the first processional dragon ; the trumpets and cornets
and clarions ; the subdeacon and deacon, and the canon who
was to sing the great Mass, and the archbishop in his cope and
mitre ; and then after a little gap the second dragon, which
was the popular " gargoyle " and sometimes had a live sucking
pig stuck in its awesome jaws (for the people would have
their touch of humour) ; and then the hero of the day, the
Prisoner himself, crowned now with flowers and bearing the
front part of the shafts on which rested the life-giving reliquary,
while the chaplain who alone knew the best and worst of him
282 SAINT MACLOU CHAP, xi
carried the shafts behind. What was the prisoner like ? We
can fancy the curiosity of the crowd. Was he young or old,
ugly or handsome, and did he look like a great sinner? Some-
times, it must he confessed, he was an unmitigated scoundrel,
hut more often his only crime was that he had fought an
enemy or rescued a friend.
Such was the ceremony of the Fierte St. Remain. It was
held for the last time in 1790 ; and now the gallows are less
hungry than they were, and the law more inexorable.
St. Madou is certainly the third church in Rouen, and it
can well hold its own with the cathedral and St. Ouen in spite
of its small si/e. Original in plan, most prolific in dainty
ornament, it is a church at unity with itself ; the men who
began it in 1434 saw it completed in 14/0, and nothing in
those years crossed the current of Flamboyance. The spire
only is modern (1870), standing in place of one in wood and
lead. Round the spire the short nave and choir of three bays
each and the shorter transepts are gathered up into innumer-
able pinnacles and finials. It would be difficult to realise with
what intricacy this is effected, were it not for the model which
you can see at the Museum. The west front is a triumph of
Flamboyant originality ; it is convex in plan, a curved range
of five great arches with traceried gables ; the gabled arches
increase in height and width from side to centre, and the
whole effect suggests one great spreading porch of five bays,
though only the three middle arches have doorways. The
linial of the principal gable is carved into a representation of
the Holy Trinity. Above it and more conspicuous is the
gable cross of the nave, flanked with two curious ornaments,
which hold the place so often occupied by St. Mary and St.
John. These are the ampullae or oil-flasks, in token of the
privilege which St. Madou then enjoyed of supplying the holy
oils to all the parishes of the diocese.
As you go in, you are confronted by the famous doors that
are (like so much else) attributed to Jean Goujon ; excellent
284 A STRANGE CLOISTER CHAP.
as the carving is in itself, the isolated figures and projecting
consoles are rather excessive, considered as parts of a door.
Within, there is a faint air of departed luxury ; the gilt rays
over the altar, the casing of the choir piers, the rood-beam
which is a wooden scroll (not without merits of its own) that
dances across the arch, these of one age ; of another, the
two fine columns by Goujon which support the organ, whose
case is a master work of Martin Guillebert, and the fairy stair-
case, spun out of gossamer, which winds up to the organ loft,
in acute contrast with the columns that support it ; and of
another, the ambitious architecture itself, its high cramped
arches, and its still higher lantern that seems to float above
the crossing without any visible means of support.
You certainly should not miss walking along by the south
side of St. Maclou round through the wonderful squalid old
timber houses that lie about the east of the church, till you
come to No. 190 in the Rue Martainville through which you
will see a doorway with the legend Cloitre Saint Maclou.
Many travellers go away from Rouen without having heard of
the Ailre Saint-Maclou ; but if you walk in through the door
you will be welcomed by the concierge, and you will find yourself
in one of the most interesting places in the city. It is a gay
courtyard, with little children passing here and there, and
through the windows more children to be seen sitting in their
class-rooms under the care of nuns in white head-gear. These
rooms are in the fine timber work gallery that stretches round
the court, resting on quaint stone columns. It is a bright
scene of young life burgeoning in an old-world garden. But
stay a moment, and sec what is the carving on those quaint
pillars, and on the woodwork above. Skulls and bones and
spades on the wood, and on the stone scenes from the Danse
Macabre, the triumph of Death. The Aitre Saint-Maclou is,
in truth, an old cemetery, first opened in the time of the Black
Death, and adorned with these morbid imaginings in the years
between 1526 and 1533.
xi SAINT-OUEN 285
The beginnings of the convent of St. Ouen are lost in re-
moteness, and the present church is the fifth or sixth that has
stood on the site. It was begun by a good abbot, Jean
Roussel, who was known by the more opulent name of Marc
d'Argent, as his tomb in the Lady Chapel still testifies. This
devoted man, in spite of his many activities and wide charities,
found time, money, and faith to carry on building operations
on an immense scale, so that the people wondered and took
him for an alchemist ; but the true philosopher's stone which
he used, says Pommeraye, was his great economy, rare pru-
dence, the good order which he established, and the help which
he secured.
He laid the foundation stone in 1318, and during the next
twenty-one years he raised vast sums of money, with which he
built the choir and its chapels, the great piers of the crossing,
and a good part of the transepts. When he was gone, the
work was continued by other abbots all through the fourteenth
century. It was not completed till the sixteenth, for a drawing
of the date 1525 shows the nave walls still unfinished. Nay,
but alas ! even then something remained to be done, and that
something was done in the middle of the nineteenth century.
The result we see in the present distressing west front with its
two distressing spires. The church had till then possessed a
particularly graceful and original, though unfinished front,
which, had it been completed, would have brought to perfec-
tion the bold beauty of St. Ouen. At St. Maclou the usual
square plan was varied by a convex front. At St. Ouen it was
concave, the two rich towers projecting forward as well as
outward, so that the doorways of the aisles faced inwards and
the great door lay well back in the centre of that splendid
approach. All this was destroyed in order that the Rouennais
might be able to boast of that rarest of French curiosities, a
great church that was entirely finished. Although they pos-
sessed the old drawings for the whole front (which showed two
lanterns on its towers like echoes of that which crowns the
2 86 THE INTERIOR OF SA1NT-OUEN CHAP.
church) they actually pulled down the unfinished towers, and
built the miserable thing which we now see.
In the Place de 1'Hotel de Ville we can sit comfortably,
unharassed by guides, and in nobody's way, to look at the
abbey church of St. Ouen. There is a summary of architect-
ural decadence before us. St. Ouen, soaring and stately, is
(lothic, French Gothic in excehis. Blocking it is the miser-
able west front, which is sham Gothic in infimis. On its left
are the eighteenth century abbey buildings, now the Hotel de
Yillc ; spacious and severe, they at least command respect.
Beyond them is the establishment of the Sapeurs-Pompiers,
which is not architecture at all. When we can understand
what it is that makes the Hotel de Villc infinitely superior to
the home of the fire brigade, we shall be in a position to appre-
ciate the beauty of Gothic art. Most people (and evidently
the maker of the west front of St. Ouen was among them) like
Gothic work for the number of its parts, its niches and finials,
and pinnacles ; the more nearly stone can be made to resemble
lace the more ecstatic is their praise. They admire the
accidents, and they miss the essential qualities.
If we go along by the north side of St. Ouen, past the re-
maining side of the cloister that clings to the church for protec-
tion, we can enter by the transept door, and get our impression
of the great interior bit by bit.
Its unity is what strike's us first and last. We forget that
it took so many years in building, that it had many architects,
that it covers a momentous change of style. We think of it as
a perfect specimen of Flamboyant art, and yet a glance shows
us that eastward of the nave it is not Flamboyant at all, but
Diroratcd: the windows of transepts, choir, and Lady Chapel
are large- and light, with slender mullions that seem to depend
upon the iron bars of the glass to keep them up, yet they
never with all their airiness lose the geometrical character.
Hut, though tin; later architects used the free tracery of their
age. they all kept to the central idea, and finished the work on
xi RUE EAU DE ROBEC 287
one plan, making it as lofty and as long as possible, with walls
of glass. Had the words not sinister associations, we might
call it a crystal palace, for there is as little stonework as
possible, and as much glass, most of which happily has been
preserved. The triforium itself is a glass gallery, with only
just enough masonry to lie behind the vaulting shafts, and the
graceful arcade that runs along it hardly intercepts the day at
all. The Lady Chapel is a globe of light behind the choir.
It is a place to walk about in and mark the grouping of slim
piers and the views across vaults and arches, but not to study
detail. We notice the rose windows in the transepts, and wish,
perhaps, that the northern one knew less of Euclid. We notice
how the capital, which is not much of a feature in the choir,
lingers only on one shaft of the pier arches in the nave ; and
we mark the tendency of the lines to run upward without break
from floor to ceiling. At the west end we can look at the
singular reflection of the interior on the blest water of the
stoup ; and then we pass out by the south transept into the
pleasant abbey garden, now the Jardin de 1'Hotel de Ville.
Here we can go round the east end to the back of the Hotel
de Ville, and, sitting there in comfort of fresh greenery, can
watch the flying buttresses that gape round the building. No
one can say that here the interior effect has been won at the
expense of any beauty without. Chapels, each with its own
separate roof that does not intercept the light, choir, and
central lantern an octagon dropped upon the square tower-
are piled above each other in splendid order, and the stretched
quartrefoils of the lower parapet give just that touch of license
which at St. Ouen is but the freedom of artists who knew the
value of law.
From St. Ouen it is natural to walk up the dirty and de-
lightful Rue Eau de Robec, lined with old houses and threaded
by the little river Robec, to St. Vivien, a Decorated church,
almost square in plan with its four aisles, and adorned with a
dumpy spire. Coming back to St. Ouen you can easily find
288 SAINT-LAURENT AND THE TAX-GATHERER CHAP.
St. Laurent in the Rue Thiers. At least, I do not know if you
will find it there next year. In 1898 there was a notice up that
its restoration was to be the subject of a competition among
aspiring architects. This year, however, it is still unscathed.
Desecrated, indeed, St. Laurent has been since the Revolution.
Dwelling places have been worked into it in the oddest way;
there is a gallery stuck over the western porch, and in the
south porch a woman is busy dusting various pieces of furniture,
for on this side a shop still flourishes. A very little clearance
would make it fit for worship, but I suppose we dare not hope
for such gentle treatment. The nave is late fourteenth century
work, and the aisles about a century later ; but the tower,
which was finished in 1502, is St. Laurent's best feature. It is
bold and a little coarse, with big statues, heavy tracery, and a
top story that seems to be made up of flying buttresses. Once
it had a stone spire.
During the revolt of the Nu-pieds (p. 165) a farmer of taxes,
named Le Tellier de Tourneville, owed his life to St. Laurent's
tower. The good man had become rich in a mysterious way,
and furthermore the gabelle was not popular, to put it mildly ;
wherefore he was besieged in his house for three whole days.
A shot from one of his windows killed the child of a
town-guard in the arms of its father, which so enraged the
crowd that some climbed on to the roof of St. Marie-la-Petite
and showered stones upon Tourneville's home, others set fire
to the wood work, others broke in the door. The last moments
of tlie unhappy publican seemed to have arrived, when he
disguised himself by the removal of his beard and escaped to
the church of St. Laurent. Even here he was followed ; he
was not safe till he had climbed to the top of the tower, and
there hidden himself. His friends managed afterwards to
smuggle him out of indignant Rouen.
Another remarkable evasion is associated with this church.
For it was here that was celebrated the solemn funeral of
Postel des Minieres, a conseiller an J\irlenient, who, so far from
xi SAINT-VINCENT 289
being dead, was using the diversion of his funeral to escape out
of France.
St. Vincent is mostly famous for its glass, which, in my
opinion, is better than the other well-known glass of St. Patrice
and St. Godard. The nave seems to have been finished in
1471 ; the choir, with its stilted arches, and high, open triforium
and clerestory, was finished in 1530, but was transmogrified
with exuberant gilt plaster-work in 1740. The nave, which
seems to be somewhat earlier, is short, and has four aisles. In
the south porch (1515) little pagan cupids peep from the heads
of Gothic niches. The western porch, boldly projecting, is a
good feature, though time has dealt unkindly with it. At the
south-east angle of the church is the well-known figure of the
salt-porter, who stands there because the church of St. Vincent
had certain rights in the salt trade. Besides its glass, St.
Vincent contains some excellent carved panelling (c. 1530) in
the southern chapel, and in the sacristry some well known
tapestries of the sixteenth century and some rich vestments of
the eighteenth.
The glass is best seen rather late in the afternoon. We
must run through it very briefly: South choir aisle: i. A
Triumph : (a) Adam and Eve in a forest, riding on a chariot
drawn by Faith and Fortitude, before them a lion and other
beasts, behind them Temperance, Charity, Hope, Prudence ;
(b) On a chariot, the Tree with the Serpent ; in front, Adam
and Eve bound, in the company of Labor and Dolor ; behind,
a gorgeous figure carries the banner of Credulity, and next are
the Seven Deadly Sins ; in the background is a view of Rouen ;
(c) Our Lady (or Holy Church) on a chariot with David and
Isaiah, preceded by angels and a figure in red carrying a sword,
and followed by an interesting procession of Rouen burghers.
2. St. Anne, birth of the Virgin. 3. The three Maries. 4. St.
Vincent 5, 6, 7 and 8. (Behind the choir). Scenes from the
Life of Christ. 9. St. Antony of Padua ; the most interesting part,
which represented the ass kneeling to the Blessed Sacrament,
U
29 o H6TEL BOURGTHEROULDE CHAP.
was destroyed in May, 1899, but is to be repieced, I believe.
North choir aisle : 10. In a lancet, the Dons de la Misericorde^
by the Le Prince, artists of the Beauvais School (c. 1530). n,
12 and 13. St. Nicholas and others, St. Peter, and the Baptist
(note Salome's gorgeous dress). Over the north porch : Instru-
ments of the Passion ; above, a Jesse. West end : The Judg-
ment (note the blue dress of the Virgin).
Near St. Vincent is the Tour St. Andre. The beautiful
church to which it belonged was destroyed lest it should mar
the mathematical precision of the Rue Jeanne d'Arc. What, I
wonder, would Jeanne herself have thought of such an act ? A
century earlier, in 1741, the stone spire was demolished, " vu
la vetuste, la caducite et rinutilite de cette partie de redifice"
Characteristic reasons ! What remains is interesting as an
example of the lingering Gothic tradition, for it was built as
late as 1541-6. The old house with the pyramidally arranged
windows which stands near the tower is one of the many which
made the Rue de la Grosse Horloge beautiful before the im-
provements of 1 86 1, when it was set up in this little square.
In the Place de la Pucelle is the Hotel Bourgtheroulde, which
stands alone in France for the magnificence of its decoration.
The exterior is practically destroyed, for all its best features
are gone ; but the interior buildings of the courtyard remain,
and the two wings with their beautiful corner tower give us an
idea of what the place was like when it was finished in 1532.
It is, however, for its sculptured walls that the Hotel is most
famous. On the left are two ranges of carved panels above
and below the windows, while the high building in front is
covered with sculpture. Decayed as they are, enough can still
be seen to show their priceless value. The lower range on
the left is the most precious of all, because it is a contemporary
representation of the Field of the ('loth of Gold. In the middle
panel the meeting of Francois I. with Henry VIII. can be
made out pretty well, and the luxuriant feathers that decorate
both horses and hats give us some idea of the magnificence.
XI
THE LEGENDS OF CONQUEST
291
which was once faithfully reproduced on this crumbling stone.
Cardinal Wolsey is among the suite on the one side, and the
Legate rides with other cardinals behind the French king.
Above the windows is a series the meaning of which was for
long unknown; but in 1875 M. Palustre found, by the aid of
a glass, the words Fama Vincit Mortem on the fourth panel.
He then traced on the next the words Tempus Vincit ....
This put the subject beyond dispute : it was the famous allegory
of Petrarch, which (as we have already seen at Caen) had such
a hold on the imagination of men at a time when " les ide.es
alambiquees " were in vogue. The weavers of Arras had scattered
representations of the Triumphs of Petrarch all over Europe,
and the sculptor here has sacrifice! his own initiative to the
desires of his patron, and contented himself with translating
into stone the tapestries of Arras.
Although the two first of the series are gone, it will be worth
while to recall their subjects. The first was Amor Vincit
Mundum, and the next Pudicitia Vincit Amorcm. Next
comes Death, Mors Vincit Pudicitiam. Then the conquests of
Fame (a woman blowing a trumpet) over Death, and Time
over Fame, Fama Vincit Mortem, Tempus Vincit Famam, and
the series is finished over the doorway by religion, Divinitas
sen Eternitas omnia Vincit, the Persons of the Trinity on a car
drawn by the four creatures symbolic of the Evangelists.
The carvings which cover the main building are in far better
preservation, and their style is entirely different. They are,
indeed, treated like pictures, in a curious flat relief, or still
more like tapestries, from which they are in all probability
copied. I have not room to describe their very quaint subjects
in detail, and must refer you to Mr. Cook's book or to M.
Palustre for such description, contenting myself here with a
bare list : i (By the door) Reaping and swimming ; 2 Love-
making, Berger a bergere promptement se ingere ; 3 Game of
main chaude or hot cockles ; 4 (July) Fishermen, a knight
carried off by a griffin in the background ; 5 (June) Sheep-
u 2
292 BUREAU DES FINANCES CHAP.
shearing, Dog dancing to a pipe, Wolf carrying off a lamb;
6 (August?) A Feast, bag-pipes are being played.
Apart from its intrinsic beauty, the Bureau des Finances
(in the Place Notre-Dame) is of remarkable interest as being
by the same architect as the Palais de Justice. That is entirely
Gothic, this is Renaissance ; we have passed suddenly over the
great change. Yet both buildings are by Roland Le Roux, and
both were built at the order of Louis XII.
In 1827 the Bureau was given up to the shopkeeper, and since
he has had it the lower story has been treated in an incredible
fashion. One would imagine that no decent person would pass
by these shops without indignation, that every one would avoid
patronising them. Yet their owners seem to have found that
the more completely they hide the exquisite stonework with
their clumsy boards and glaring letters the more the public deals
with them. The proportions of this noble building are de-
stroyed, its whole effect is ruined. We can only try and imagine
the lower story since we cannot see it its seven arches, with
their pilasters covered with grotesques and their sculptured
medallions. About the wreckage runs the little intermediate
story, or entresol, exceedingly original, full of elegance, especially
in the lovely medallions, two and a half of which, with their
supporting cupids, are still unhidden. This entresol, at the
same time, is gravely utilitarian, for the tiny rooms, which are
lighted by its low oblong windows, were required for office
work, while board meetings were held in the great high-
windowed room of the first-floor. A most gorgeously-carved
frie/e finishes the whole.
Another administrative office of the sixteenth century, the
("our des Comptes, has lately fared even worse. It is now
entirely engulfed in the huge buildings of the Mutuelle Vie,
which seem to have been specially designed to dwarf the
unfortunate cathedral. Inside the great block, the two sides
of the beautiful courtyard can still be seen, and the skin of the
chapel vault forms a lining to one of the new halls. They have
XI
COUR DES COMPTES
293
built round it
cleverly enough,
and what is there
will be preserved
from further
ravages, but of
course the charm
of the old place
is gone.
The Chambre
des Comptes
with its two
presidents, ten
masters, eight
auditors, and
other legal and
financial officials
worked here for
long days miti
gated by many
holidays. Mass
was said in the
little chapel at
5.30 in summer
and an hour later
in winter; from 7
or 8 in the morn-
ing till 5 in the
evening business was transacted. The vacations seem to have
been on the same admirable system as that still in vogue at our
universities, that of equal division. Furthermore, there were two
days off every week, not to mention the holidays. The Cham-
ber was suppressed and revived several times between 1 580, when
it was installed here, and 1790, when it sank with the rest in the
deep waters of the Revolution, leaving this house for bubble.
Street in Rouen.
294 PALAIS DE JUSTICE CHAP.
Near the Grosse Horloge is the Palais de Justice, reputed
one of the finest public buildings in Europe. It was built be-
tween 1499 an d i5 T 4 by Roland le Roux and Roger Ango,
with the exception of the facade in the Rue Jeanne d'Arc (1889)
and the east wing, a stupid copy of the western one that was set
up in 1842 in the place of a classical addition of the time of Louis
XIV. Roland's work is a good deal spoilt by these and other
alterations ; still it must always have lacked the majesty of the
Northern town halls. Its qualities lie rather in the elaboration
of its detail, the fretted dormers, the pinnacles, statues, and
crested roof, and the beautiful turret that breaks the line of the
middle building. You can walk freely into the great hall
which occupies the west wing, and is now the Salle des Pas-
Perdus, a noble room, filled with soft light ; there is a gallery
at cither end, and under the north gallery the marble table that
was used as a tribunal. One of the officials will conduct you
hence to the Cour des Assises, which is famous for its elaborate
roof, though perhaps you may prefer to it the plainer one that
sweeps across the Salle des Pas-Perdus.
Rouen has many claims upon the historian which I must
omit, but one cannot be passed over. It is the town where
Jeanne d'Arc was tried and executed. Her statue is in all the
shop windows, a fanciful image indeed, quite unlike the real
Jeanne whose rustic countenance, black hair (which she cut
short), and strongly-built frame of moderate stature, no one
but Bastien-Lepage has tried to reproduce. Her principal
monument is the tower where she was examined.
This Tour Jeanne d'Arc is really the keep of the castle which
fills so large a part in the annals of Rouen. It is a round
tower of the type which we have learnt to associate with
Philippe-Auguste, and was in fact built by him in 1205. In
the reign of Henri IV. Rouen Castle became a quarry and
began to disappear. In 1683 the nuns of the Saint-Sacrement
bought the mansion that had taken the castle's place, and be-
came the proprietors of the keep also. A century later, to wit
xi TOUR JEANNE D'ARC 295
on the 3rd Messidor of the year IV., the ci-devant convent
passed into private hands, and became a home of cotton-
spinning. But the factory did not flourish, and in 1809 the
convent buildings again passed into religious keeping, this
time the Ursulines buying it for a girls' school. These good
women at once proceeded to demolish the neighbouring Tour
de la Pucelle, where the Maid had been imprisoned, in order to
make for themselves a garden. In 1840, the ruined keep
having taken to dropping loose stones upon their pupils' heads,
the Ursulines decided to destroy it also. But even in the
forties there were limits. France awoke, and the tower was
saved. The preservation took some time. First public opinion
was excited, then the ground was bought, then the restoration
was carried out in stages, interrupted by want of funds and by the
Prussian war ; the tower did not emerge from the hands of its
foster-builders till some years after the invaders had gone.
The upper part has been rebuilt, and M. Viollet-le-Duc has
placed on it the conical roof and the wooden hoards which
were an indispensable defensive feature of medieval fortifica-
tion (ch. i), so that now we are able to see what a tower
looked like in time of war before the introduction of artillery.
It is a particularly interesting restoration, since the old hoards
have everywhere disappeared, not only because of their perish-
able nature, but because when cannon came into use the tops
of the towers were converted into platforms, as we know was
the case here.
You can go into the vaulted room of the Tour Jeanne d'Arc,
the very room where she stood up before the judges, who had
brought her here face to face with their instruments of torture,
in the hope that she might thereby be brought to falter in her
story. Nearly all the other buildings connected with the Maid
are now destroyed, and this room remains the one place where
the sound of her voice was certainly heard.
It was on the 9th of May, 1431, that Jeanne was brought
before her judges here. There were eleven ecclesiastics, all
296 ME QUESTION 'ctiAl>.
Frenchmen, headed by Pierre Cauchon, the infamous Bishop
of Beauvais, together with some English soldiers, the
executioner and his machines.
"The said Jeanne was required to tell the truth concerning
many and different points contained in her trial, which she
had denied elsewhere, and about which she had replied in an
erroneous manner," so runs the Latin report of this inquiry.
"If she did not confess the truth she would be put to the
torture, the instruments of which were shown her, arranged as
they were in the said tower. There also were the officers who,
by our order, were ready to put her to this torture, to force
her to come back into the paths of truth, and to recognise it,
in order that by this means the safety of her body and of her
soul might be assured, which by her false inventions she was
exposing to grave danger." Considerate judges !
Jeanne's reply is fortunately preserved in the old French of
the time. Its defiance is so simple and honest that it gives
one a sublimer idea perhaps than anything else of her courage.
She was alone and broken, expecting every moment to be in
agony. .She had sacrificed herself for country and religion, yet
it was Frenchmen and ecclesiastics who were judging her; so
her task was twice as hard as that of a martyr defying the foes
of his faith. And worst of all, perhaps, her sanity was called
in question. She heard voices. Was she mad ? Surely no girl
was ever so overwhelmed with temptation to give way. Yet
her answer is quiet; she is quite modest in her courage, she
does not over-rate her own strength, but speaks with most
perfect sanity.
" Vraiement, se vous me deviez faire detraire les membres
et faire partir lYime hors du corps, si ne vous diray-je autre
chose 1 ; et se aucune chose vous en disoye-je, apres si diroye-
je tousjours que vous le me auries fait dire par force."
" Truly, though you should destroy my limbs, and make
my soul go forth from my body, I shall not say to you aught
else ; and it I should say to you any such thing, I should
Xi THE SCENE OF JEANNE'S MARTYRDOM 297
always say afterwards that you had made me say it by
force."
Then she replied to the questions about the heavenly
messages she had heard, rebutting the charges of having been
led by the devil, in this fashion, " Item, dit qu'elle sgait bien
que nostre Seigneur a este toujours maistre de ses fais, et que
1'ennemy n'avait oncques eu puissance sur ses fais."
The executioner who was present described the interroga-
tion twenty-four years after, when the solemn " Rehabilitation "
took place ; his evidence is preserved in the Latin text of that
strange posthumous trial.
" He deposes that he knew the same Jeanne at the time
when she was brought into the town of Rouen, where he saw
her in the Castle of Rouen, when witness and his colleague
were summoned to put the same Jeanne to the torture. And
thereupon a sort of examination was commenced. She
showed much prudence in her replies, so much so that those
present were astonished. At last witness and his colleague
retired without touching her person."
It is with a sensation of physical relief that we learn that her
wise answers saved her from the torture.
Let us now go to the last scene of all, the place of Jeanne's
martyrdom. Until lately the burning was supposed to have
taken place in the Place de la Pucelle, where a memorial of
her stands : she is represented as Bellona, in the taste of the
eighteenth century, and the monument was spared at the
Revolution because the Maid had belonged to the Tiers Etat !
It was thought that the Vieux Marche' had once been much
larger than now, and had included the Place de la Pucelle,
but M, Charles Robillard de Beaurepaire has proved that
the Marche' was smaller and not larger than it is now, and
that Jeanne was burnt in the midst of it. It is in the
Place du Vieux Marche, then, that the shameful tragedy took
place.
298 EYE-WITNESSES CHAP.
I think it will be most useful if I bring before you some
extracts from the vivid evidence which was given at the Froces
de Rehabilitation and let the eye-witnesses speak for them-
selves.
The first evidence is that of Brother Jehan Toutmouille :
" Et quant il [Frere Martin] annonga a la pouvre femme
la mort de quoy elle devoit mourir ce jour la, que ainsi ses
juges le avoient ordonne' et entendu, et oy la dure et cruelle
mort qui lui estoit prouchaine, commenga a s'escrier doloreuse-
ment et piteusement, se destraire et arracher les cheveulx :
' He'las ! me traite-1'en ainsi horriblement et cruellement, qu'il
faille (que) mon cors net et entier, qui ne fut jamais corrompu,
soit aujourd'hui consume et rendu en cendres ! Ha ! a !
j'aymeroie mieulx estre descapite'e sept fois, que d'estre ainsi
brusle'e.' "
Evidence of Jean Massieu, priest, who, with Brother Martin
Eadvenu, attended her on the scaffold :
" Et ell estant au Vieil-Marche . . . esquelles de'vocions,
lamentacions et vraie confession de la foy, en reque'rant aussi
a toutes manieres de gens de quelques condicions ou estat qu'ilz
feussent, tant de son party que d'autre, mercy tres-humblement,
en requerant qu'ilz voulsissent prier pour elle, en leur pardon-
nant le mal qu'ilz lui avoient fait, elle persevera et continua
tres-longue espace de temps, comme d'une demye heure, et
jusques a la fin. Dont les juges assistans, et mesme plusieurs
Anglois furent provoque's a grandes larmes et pleurs, et de
faict tres amerement en pleurerent ; et aucuns et plusieurs
d'iceulx-mesmes Anglois, recongnurent et confesserent le nom
de I )ieu, voyant si notable fin, et estoient joyeulx d'avoir este a
la fin, disans ([tie ce avoit este une bonne femme. Et quant elle
fut lehissee par 1'Eglise, celluy qui parle [the witness] estoit
encore awe elle ; et a grande devocion demanda a avoir la croix ;
et ce oyunt un Anglois qui estoit la present, en feit une petite
de boys du bout d'un baston qu'il lui bailla ; et de'votement la
xi HOW JEANNE DIED 299
receut et la baisa, en faisant piteuses lamentacions et recog-
nicions a Dieu nostre re'dempteur qui avoit souffert en la croix
pour nostre redempcion ; de laquelle croix elle avoit le signe
et representacion, et mit icelle croix en son sain, entre sa
chair et ses vestemens. Et oultre demanda humblement a
cellui qui parle, qu'il lui feist avoir la croix de Feglise, afin que
continuellement elle la puist veoir jusques a la mort. . . .
" Et ainsi fut menee et atache'e, et en continuant les
louanges et lamentacions devotes envers Dieu et ses
Saincts, des le derrain mot, en trespassant, cria a haulte
voix : ' Jhesus' !"
Evidence of Frere Isambert de la Pierre :
" Dit oultre plus, que la piteuse femme lui demanda, requist
et supplia humblement, ainsi qu'il estoit pres d'elle en sa fin,
qu'il allast en Feglise prouchaine, et qu'il apportast la croix,
pour la tenir eleve'e tout droit devant ses yeux jusques au pas
de la mort, afin que la croix oil Dieu pendist, fust en sa vie
continuellement devant sa vue. Dit oultre, qu'elle estant
dedans la flambe, oncques ne cessa jusques en la fin de
resonner et confesser a haulte voix le saint nom de Jhesus, en
implorant et invoquant sans cesse Fayde des Saincts et Sainctes
de paradis : et encores, qui plus est, en rendant son esperit et
inclinant la teste, profe'ra le nom de Jhesus, en signe qu'elle
estoit fervente en la foy de Dieu, ainsi comme nous lisons de
Saint Ignatius et plusieurs autres martyrs.
''''Item. Dit et de'pose que, incontinent apres 1'execucion, le
bourreau vint a lui et a son compaignon, frere Martin Ladvenu
frappe et esmeu d'une merveilleuse repentance et terrible
contricion, comme tout desespere, craingnant de non savoir
jamais impetru pardon et indulgence envers Dieu, de ce qu'il
avoit faict a ceste saincte femme."
The executioner also said that, in spite of the oil and
sulphur and fuel he had heaped around her body, her heart
remained unburnt as by a miracle.
One witness, a priest who had acted as notary at the trial,
300 " WE HAVE BURNED A SAINT !" CHAP.
after relating how "juges, prelats et tons les autres assistans
furent prorogues a grans pleurs et larmes " at the sight of her
execution, stated that he himself had never wept so much
for anything before, " et gue par ung mois aprcs ne s'en pouvoit
bonne went appaiser" With some of the money that was paid
him for his work at the trial he bought a little missal, which
he still kept, in order that he might have a memorial of her
and might pray for her to (lod. Again in the Latin part of
the evidence we are told of a canon who wept marvellously
and cried, "Utinam aninia niea esset in loco in quo credo animam
istius inn lie t is ! "
So she died on this spot, simple and brave, a heroic saint,
and yet with her full share of human, womanly sensitiveness.
Surely no woman ever accomplished so much or suffered such
an ordeal. Her honest wisdom had baffled her tormentors ; and
her death began that gradual process of conversion which, after
centuries had passed, won every human being of whatever
country to the side of the girl to save whom not a solitary
hand had been raised.
' \Ve are lost !" the English are said to have cried as they
saw her die : " we have burned a saint." And certainly from
that moment the English never again knew piosperity in
France. They were, as she had prophesied, soon all thrust
out of France, except those who left their bones there.
Caiifhon, the Uishop of Beauvais, who had contrived her
death, was suddenly carried off in the height of the ambition
for which he had sold his soul. Such things were regarded as
miracles, but the greatest wonder of all was the change that
came over Charles VII. some eight years after her death.
I If, whose disgraceful betrayal of her was the prime cause of
her martyrdom, threw off his indifference, and, with a courage
and determination that he had never shown sign of before,
accomplished the work which she had begun.
She embodied the two greatest passions that have moved
mankind, religion and patriotism, and therefore her memory
XI
O VIS AMORTS MAXIMA!
301
has gradually conquered the hearts of men. The Church
that condemned has now beatified her, and the nation that
betrayed has made her its heroine. Nor are we English,
who bear so large a share of the infamy, behindhand in our
love for
" Jehanne, la bonne Lorraine
Que Angloys bruslerent a Rouen."
It is perhaps not the least of her miracles that every English-
man who reads her story finds himself on her side and against
the men of his own country.
The Seine leloiv Rouen.
CHAPTER XII
ROl'EX TO I.E HAVRE. ST. GEORGES DE BOSCHERVILLE, DUCLAIR,
JUMIKGES, ST. WANDRILLE, CAUDEBEC, LILLEBONNE, TANCAR-
VII.LE, HARFI.EUR, GRAVILLE.
CERTAINLY, if I had only a few days to spare in Normandy
I should spend them between Rouen and Le Havre. For not
only is this tract of country famous for "scenery" which even
artists admire, but it is rich also in remarkable monuments, so
that with slight digressions the traveller along the highway to
Le Havre can see what are perhaps the finest specimens in
Normandy of a complete Romanesque church (at Boscher-
ville), of a ruined one (at Jumieges), of a jewel of late Gothic
set in the loveliest little old town (Caudebec), as well as the
unique Roman theatre at Lillebonne, the cloister of St.
Wandrille, and the castle at Tancarville, not to mention Harfleur
and Graville, and Le Havre itself. This is a good list fora
road that is but little longer than that between Brighton and
London, just 66 miles, including the digressions. But if
there were nothing at all of historical interest, if the Romans
had never made their way from Rouen to Harfleur, and if the
CH. xii THE ROAD BY THE RIVER 303
Norman pirates had never swarmed up the tempting waters of
the Seine, it would still be infinitely worth while to follow the
course of the great river that winds so finely between hills and
forests and orchards and meadows. It is very usual to ride
the distance in two days, staying at Caudebec for the night,
and it is quite easy to see a good deal of the principal places in
this way ; for from Rouen to Caudebec is but 29 miles, and from
Caudebec to Le Havre 37. Still, it is a pity not to stay for
some time in this district of the lower Seine. Caudebec is an
obvious centre for walks and rides, just as La Bouille is on the
other route (p. 264), but the less frequented places will be for
many even pleasanter for a stay : one can always get decent
accommodation and food in France, and the numerous ferries
(clearly marked in Joanne's map) throw the whole country on
both sides of the river open to the cyclist.
One soon gets out of Rouen by the west side on to the
extremely high hill that leads to Canteleu. Near the top,
labour brings its usual reward in the form of a view. Rouen,
as it is to-day, lies spread out before the heated traveller, the
Rouen whose tall factory chimneys form a considerable part of
the "front herisse de fleches et $ aiguilles" which, in Victor
Hugo's well-known lines,
" Dec/lire incessament les brumes de la mer"
From Canteleu the road cuts straight across the first great bend
of the Seine, through the Foret de Roumare, where the bracken
shows its bright green far into the depths of the pine forest,
and then drops down again towards the Seine on the other side
of the hill.
Half-way down the hill we get our first sight of the abbey
church of St. Georges de Boscherville. Its towers and apses
lie below us, and we can see that we are in the presence of an
unusually large and complete building ; but when we reach the
bottom of the hill and turn off into the village of Saint-Martin-
de-Boscherville, of which St. Georges is now the parish church,
SAINT-GEORGES DE BOSCHERVILLE
CHAP.
we shall realise that it is one of the least altered and most
perfect examples of Norman work in France.
The abbey was founded by Raoul de Tancarville, who was
Chamberlain to William the Conqueror, and this church was
begun by him about the time of the Norman conquest. There
seems never to have been more than ten monks here ; at the
The Abbey of St. Georges de Boscherville.
Revolution there were seven, and they had no money because
of their great almsgiving. Like many other old places, it has
its romance. A lady was in love with a knight, but was married
against her will to the lord of Bardouville, a village which still has
its castle and is on the opposite side of the river. The knight
thereupon buried his sorrows in the cloister, becoming a monk
of St. Oeorges, so that he could still breathe the same air as
his lost mistress. After a while he became abbot, and this
brought him into relations with the great folk of the neighbour-
hood ; and meeting the lady of Bardouville once more, his old
passion took hold of him. Every night, like another Leander,
he swam across the river, guided only by the lamp at his Hero's
casement, till at last the lord of Bardouville surprised them.
together and slew the abbot-lover.
xii THE VALUE OF WHITEWASH 305
St. Georges seems to be later than Jumieges, but it has the
advantage of being unruined as well as unaltered : with the
exception of its thirteenth-century turrets, it is entirely
Romanesque. We enter through a sculptured doorway of
unusually refined workmanship, to find an interior agreeably
free from modern attempts at embellishment, and whitened in
every part. I believe many people complain of this white
surface, because the notion that whitewash was invented by
the Puritans for purposes of defacement is not yet dead. As a
matter of fact, though medieval architects often coloured their
walls, they also often whitewashed them ; and the artistic value
of such plain surfaces is very great indeed. How it enables
one to appreciate here the noble qualities of the architecture !
How well the coloured Madonna over the south door tells
against its generous background ! And if the high altar is
repellent, that is the fault of modern French taste, which seeks
only for a certain frigid ostentation, and has given this quality
to an altar which is supposed to be copied from the well-known
one at St. Germer, near Beauvais.
The vaults in the aisles and choir are groined in the Norman
style, but without ribs ; in the apse ribs first appear in a clumsy
and tentative fashion. Many of the capitals are like those at
Graville, which we shall see a little later, especially those
with horse's heads. There is a great gallery in each transept,
like that in Winchester Cathedral ; on the south one are carved
two knights in Norman helmets tilting at each other (which
again reminds one of Grftville) ; on the north the large spread-
ing cap is ornamented with a rough, boyish carving of a horse-
man, and over it is a primitive bishop. Under each of these
galleries is a chapel with an apse, so that, with the aisles and
choir, there are five round apses altogether. A very fine cable
forms the string course round the church.
The rest of the abbey buildings are all gone, except the
chapter-house and a few fragments of the cloister, which stand
in the apple orchard on the north of the church. The chapter-
306
DUG LAIR
house is a very good example of Transitional work (1211), and
its carving is exceptional in fineness and design ; on the caps
can be traced the Sacrifice of Isaac and the Passage of Jordan.
The vaulted ceiling retains a painted pattern of small red discs
which is most effective.
The road from Boscherville strikes the Seine at a point
Cliff dwellings or. the Seine, near Puclair.
where it looks like a lake for its amplitude. And here is one
of those iron structures, half lamp-post, half lighthouse, which
now make the river navigable by night as well as by day. The
steamers pass up from the southward reach that lies beyond
Dudair, and turn again southward at this corner towards where
the hills are gathered up behind La Bouille. Sometimes a
vessel glides past with the red ensign of England, and once I
heard a workman shout Vive la Russic at the sight of a flag
that is more popular in France than ours. For here in the
depths of the country we are to all intents and purposes on
the high seas. Dudair itself, with its old-fashioned looking
quay along the river does a considerable trade in farm produce
with England, although one may often pass through it without
taking it for more than a sleepy waterside village. One of the
XII
THE WAY TO JUMIEGES
307
l''crry at Duclair,
many curious rocks near it is called the chaire or r/Mw de
Gargantua, a legendary name which is found in a charter
of the eleventh century Ciiria Gigantis. The giant has
another seat at Tancarville.
In order to reach Jumieges you must keep to the highway
on leaving Duclair, and avoid the tempting road on the left
hand that follows the course of the river ; for this road leads to
Le Mesnil-sous-JumiegeSj which is quite a long way from
Jumieges itself, and your attempts to reach the right place may
land you after many miles into aimless field paths, as once
happened to me ; so you must take the main road out of
Duclair, in spite of the finger-post only promising Yainville
and Le Trait. On this road you keep till you have passed
the fourth kilometre stone and seven small hectometre stones
after it, and then (how beautiful is the decimal system !) just
X 2
308 A HOLY COLONIST CHAP.
when you have travelled 4,700 yards from Duclair, a small
road on the left turns off to the low Norman tower of Yainville
whence you bear to the left and reach Jumieges along a straight
road of two miles.
St. Philibert having been led by the teaching of St. Ouen to
abandon the world, founded the monastery of Jumieges in the
middle of the seventh century. The second Clovis was king,
and chaos was supreme in those days. The disordered brutality
of the age is shown by the story of the E nerves de Jumieges ,
whose tomb (some six hundred years later in date) is still
shown in the little museum ; they were, the legendary history
relates, two sons of Clovis who revolted, and for punishment
were hamstrung, the " nerves " of their legs being cut. Thrown
into a boat to drift on the Seine, they were taken in by the
kindly monks, but soon died of their injuries. Philibert, like
so many of the earlier cenobites, did much to temper the
violence of the world. He established in the forest of Jumieges,
which the Queen gave him, a peaceful colony of monks, who
drained the morasses, cleared away the rocks, and by industry,
peace, and justice, transformed the wilderness into a garden.
Nor was he content with the happiness which he had created
for his own Hock, he went boldly to the Court to bring home
to Kbroin, the Mayor of the Palace, his many acts of injustice.
This drew on him the vengeance of that cruel minister, who
drove him from Jumieges; but, undismayed, he founded other
convents in Poitou, in one of which, Nermoutiers, he eventually
died. So well had he done his work at Jumieges that by the
end of the century there were, it is said, no less than 900 monks
in the abbey.
Uefore long the Normans overran the land, and devastated
this oasis of peace. The community was scattered, and only
two monks were left ; but these were destined to be the source
of new life. For William Longsword (Rollo's son) chanced
upon them one day when he was hunting ; and, being touched
at their condition, he took them back to their old home, and
XII
ROBERT OF JUMIEGES
309
in 930. began to rebuild it for them. We are still able to see a
precious relic of this early church, although the greater ruins
are the work of Robert of Jumieges, who was abbot here till,
in 1051, he was made Archbishop of Canterbury. His name
in English history recalls the rule of foreign favourites under
Jumieges.
Edward the Confessor,, the rise of England against them when,
a year after his appointment, Robert cut his way through the'
streets of London with the sword and fled back to Normandy,
and the complications which followed when Stigand became a
rival Archbishop of Canterbury ; it was by these troubles that
the way was prepared for the failure of Harold's government
and the triumph of another Norman foreigner, William the
Conqueror. But in France the name of Robert will always be
connected with the church that was the glory of one of its
greatest and most learned abbeys.
Robert's church was consecrated the year after the Norman
conquest, and so these ruins have quite a special interest apart
from the grandeur of their colossal towers, apart from all the
beauty which impresses every traveller. To see the kind of
edifices which we can associate with the Conqueror, and which
3 io NORMAN AND PRE-NORMAN CHAP.
show how much Normans were in advance of Saxons, we
must go, not to Caen or to Falaise, but to Jumieges and to
Arques.
From the west front to the central tower, then, we have a
magnificent example of early Norman work. The plain, large
porch forms a projection on the front, and is continued within
by a kind of narthex, over which is a gallery called the Salle
des Dames. The capitals of the nave have the rude Ionic
volutes of the eleventh century, and on some are traces of
colour ; for the men of the twelfth century found these early
caps too plain for their taste, and covered them with plaster on
which they painted ornament, of which some foliage and the
figures of Moses and Daniel still remain.
Of the fourteenth century choir only two ruined chapels are
standing, and on them grows now a small pine forest.
Visitors are taken through the south transept into the small
church of St. Pierre, and most of them admire its eastern part
without noticing that at its west there still remains a part of
the original church which William Longsword built in 930. If
the great Norman church is interesting for its early date, how
much more is this remnant of an earlier than Norman art ?
The remains of the two little western towers are entered
through two round-headed doorways, and another doorway
gives admittance to the church. There are round panels over
the two doorways, and also on the north wall over the two
remaining bays of the triforium, the shafts of which are in one
piece with their bases and have elaborately carved caps. Some
traces of the original painting in the Byzantine style can be
made out on the west wall where the two later layers of painting
have crumbled away ; on this lowest layer of pre-Norman work
a white figure, probably an angel, is clearly distinguishable.
Next to the church of St. Pierre is the fifteenth century
chapel of St. Martin, and between St. Pierre and the big
church is the thirteenth century chapter-house. A little further
west an ancient yew tree marks the site of the cloister. Further
xii AGNfeS SOREL 311
is a large early thirteenth century building, which probably served
as a library ; you may notice the way in which the voussoirs of
the almost flat entrance-arch are locked into each other.
Besides the gate-house by which you entered there is another
separate house, which is now turned into a small museum. It
contains the tomb of the Enerve's and the incised slabs of three
abbots, one of whom, Nicolas Leroux, was among the judges
of Jeanne d'Arc. The black marble slab which covered the
heart of Agnes Sorel is also preserved here. Agnes was the
mistress of Charles VII., the careless king who was more
responsible for Jeanne's death than any of her judges, and to
her belongs some of the credit of that conversion which I
spoke of in the last chapter. She had a manor at Mesnil, of
which the remains can still be seen, and at her death in 1449
she bequeathed her heart to the monks of Jumieges. They
remembered her charity, as the inscription shows : " Cy gist
noble damoiselle Agnes Seurelle, en son vivant dame de
Beaulte' . . . piteuse entre toutes -gens, et qui largement
donnait de ses biens aux eglises et aux pouvres, laquelle
trespassa le neuvieme jour de fevrier Fan de grace 1449."
During her lifetime Charles had apartments fitted up for himself
in the abbey, where the kings of France had " droit de gite"
and the building which was probably the library is commonly
called his Salle des Gardes.
How is it that the abbey church of Jumieges is such an utter
ruin while that of Boscherville is intact ? It is because the
people of Jumieges would have it so. In 1793, when the
monastery was suppressed, the Cure' and parishioners of Jumieges
refused to exchange their church for that of the abbey, which
therefore was dismantled, and from 1802 (when people might
have known better) became a quarry for all the farm buildings in
the neighbourhood. So it has become during the present century
as complete a ruin as if it had fallen under the hand of Henry
VIII. in the sixteenth century, and only the freshness of its
ornament shows that it has been destroyed by those who had
3 i2 THE PARISH CHURCH OF JUMlfeGES CHAP.
not even the excuse of religious fanaticism. But its giant towers
and walls will yet survive many a generation to return good for
evil, for the village that was brought into existence by the abbey
of Jumteges, still benefits by the renown of its frequented ruins.
And what sort of a place is the parish church which was
thrown into the balance against the abbey ? It is so unique
that one can understand a little how its guardians saw the
proud abbey church crumble away rather than part with their
own. The three ages of architecture have each contributed to
produce this freak of fortune. The sober Norman nave runs
steeply up the hill, so steeply that to stand under the wooden
patchwork of the tower is like being inside a ship at sea.
Round the choir Ionic capitals are stuck conspicuously on the
pillars, by way of contrast with the square-edged piers of the nave.
Beyond is a range of flamboyant chapels, whose unachieved
vaults are patched with plank ceilings ; for some ambitious
persons began a large choir and chcvet, and dropped the work
suddenly, as if a plague had struck them. The unfinished part
of the new church was boarded on to the old in the roughest
manner, and, inside, a wooden barrel vault under the tower
joins the two parts together like the waist of a wasp. The
abounding quaintness of the place is heightened by its rough
wooden pews, and its collection of painted images on which
many a rustic artist has exercised his skill. You may notice
as an example of this the carving of a plough in the south aisle
of the nave ; its wheels are rudely picked out with a carpenter's
stock and bit, yet I think its design and colour would win it
an honourable place in the Arts and Crafts exhibition.
doing back from Jumieges, you keep straight along the road
without turning at Vainvillc till you get back into the main
road again. It passes by another forest, and leaves the river
for a mile or two out of sight. Just beyond the stone that
marks the second kilometre this side of Caudebec, a road turns
off on the right, and if you go along this road for a mile, you
will come to St. Wandrille.
XII
SAINT-WANDRILLE
313
This abbey is a very popular place with tourists, for it is
essentially picturesque, situated in a lovely valley and sur-
rounded by a park. It did not become a ruin till the middle
of the nineteenth century ; now its Norman refectory remains,
and its chapter-house, while the beautiful cloister is the more
worth seeing because cloisters are scarce in Normandy. 1
But Caudebec, after all, is better than many ruins, for it is a
living town. Indeed, this survival of Caudebec in the midst of
a country which once so abounded in flourishing castles and
abbeys, and ancient towns, such as St. Wandrille, Jumieges,
Lillebonne, Brotonne, Maule'vrier, Belcinac, has caused more
than one writer to quote the lines which Sulpicius wrote in a
letter to Cicero " Alas, said I, weak mortals that we are !
We grieve at the death of our friends, whose lives are so short,
1 In 1889 it was still tenanted by monks. Now, in 1904, the monks are
gone from here, as from other places in France.
CAUDEBEC
CHAP.
while there lie before us, shapeless and lifeless, the corpses of
so many famous cities."
Yet our first impression as we come on to the quay by the
river is not of antiquity. Caudebec seems to be a quiet
eighteenth century town, with square houses, homely hotels and
cafe's, that look on to the terrace shaded with elms, and on to
the river with its boats and its ferry. It is only when we turn up
one. of the streets that we find ourselves in the midst of a little
medieval town. I need not describe it : you cannot help ad-
miring the stream that runs so prettily along the Rue de la
Boucherie, and its two precious stone houses among the
oldest in Normandy, and the timber houses in the same street
as well as in the Rue de la Cordonnerie, the Rue de la Halle,
and the (irande-Rue.
At every turn you will stumble against an easel ; all through
the summer months Caudebec has its portrait painted by the
devout English. It might become conceited, did it not know
in its old heart that what it is now every old city once was.
Xay ! there is one of Henri-Quatre's sayings on record to show
that in his days it was thought a quite inferior specimen
XII
THE JEWEL AND THE SETTING
315
of a town.
Praising the
church, he
said 'twas
the prettiest
chapel in his
kingdom of
France ; but,
he added,
" le bijou
est mal en-
chasse."
But to us
starved crea-
tures of a
gaunt age,
how pretty
is the setting
now !
And how
pleasant is
the country
round, the
walks to St.
Ger tr u de
and Ville-
quier, and
past the two
villages of Bliquetuit to the forest of Brotonne, or further afield
to Quillebceuf and Jumieges. Does not the river, as it bends
round on either side under its hills, tempt one to stay and
explore ? And at high tides there is the spectacle of the
famous mascaret or bore which the river banks make more
furious than that of the Bay of Mont-St.-Michel.
But whatever we think of the setting, shall we not agree with
Rue de la Boucherie, Catidebec.
3i6 NOTRE-DAME DE CAUDEBEC CHAP.
Henri IV. as to the jewel ? It is a great thing to say that any
church is the prettiest in Normandy ; but I think that, if we
keep strictly to the meaning of the adjective, we may say that
Notre-Dame de Caudebec is the prettiest we have seen. It is
so daintily conceived, so luxuriously finished, so complete in
itself. And the setting has this special virtue, that it leaves a
clear rim round the jewel, so that you can see its shape per-
fectly from every side.
It was begun in the fifteenth century, before the English
occupation came to an end, but its finishing touches take us
beyond Flamboyance, and on the west front we find a quaint
parapet of Caryatids. The lower part of the front consists of
three portals, which project like those of St. Maclou. Their
canopy-work is as minute as stone-carving will go ; especially
interesting are the little angels with musical instruments (one
of them has a bagpipe) in the central arch.
From the square on the south you can see the tower, which
is the pride of Caudebec ; it stands by itself, delicately buttressed
and lightened with well-disposed windows ; it is square, but on it
rests the remarkable spire, octagonal at its base, and rising into a
triple crown that is like a tiara. The carved work was too
elaborate for its exposed position, and the spire had become
rather bare of ornament, till the restoration of 1886 (in this
case, perhaps, a defensible restoration) covered it up again.
There is also a small leaded spire on the roof, bent back like a
whip. The interesting little south porch, the traceried windows of
aisle and nave, are all well seen from here, and also the two
parapets, of which the upper one contains verses from the
Magnificat.
You will notice, inside the church, how the apse is made of
two bays, like those of the nave, but set at an obtuse angle. And
you cannot help seeing the lace-like piscinae, and the curious
sculptures of the Pieta. But, I think, the glass is the most
interesting of all ; the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the
ancient and the modern style, are found here in very clear
XII
JESSE, PIETA, AND PROCESSION
317
contrast. For
instance, in
the second
window of the
north aisle
there is a
Jesse, with
the donors in
ruffs and huge
sleeves, a
rather coarse
example, and
next to it is
a window of
the fifteenth
century, with
three saints
and a Pieta,
far more re-
stricted in the
drawing, but
far finer in
sentiment.
There is more
of the earlier
glass on the
north side,
and on the
SOUth tWO Of At the foot of the tower.
the later windows bear the dates 1531 and 1532; one of
these contains very elaborate classical architecture ; but the
best Renaissance glass is that in the tympanum of the south-
west doorway, which represents a procession of the Host, with
a city in the background.
When we leave Caudebec by the Grande-Rue, we see how
3i8
LILLEBONNE
CHAP.
tightly the little town is wedged in at the opening of a steep
valley, and we climb up the hill, losing sight regretfully at last
of the church, and travelling without much to interest us across
the large plateau that separates us from Lillebonne. As we
pass through that ancient town, the Juliobona of the Romans,
i f>-oi the Lillebonne Road.
we see the castle on our right, the theatre on the left of the
main street, and the church a little farther on.
It is, of course, the Roman theatre that everybody comes to
see, for in Northern Europe such a thing is a treasure of the
rarest kind. Vet it may seem to you just a little bit disappoint-
ing, this well-kept semicircle of green turf. You look at it first
from the railings that separate it from the road, and you wish
there were a little more of it.
A hundred years ago there was very much less to be seen,
and few troubled their heads about it. A savant named
Caylus, decided that the remains belonged to a Roman theatre,
but he had only plans to go upon, and did not think it worth
while to travel to Lillebonne and see the place for himself. In
1812 excavations were begun, and the interior terraced out on
the ancient plan. The people used to sit on the slope of the
hill, (ireek fashion, but the stone ranges of seats were broken
XII
THE ROMAN THEATRE
319
up long ago to build St. Wandrille. There is a large opening
on either side, and a rising vaulted passage round the theatre
gives access to the upper seats. It is here, in the upper part,
that most of the masonry remains, small stones banded with
xTjSJ
J^tors^asL.
>?*": i^
77^ Roman Theatre, Lillebonne.
courses of red tiles and enclosing a core of flint ; and here, too, the
seven vomitories can still be seen, and some of the stone seats.
The portico stood where the road now is, and the inside of this
portico formed the scene of the theatre, though it is possible
that the place was used for combats as well, since the bones of
beasts have been discovered. Coins of Hadrian and Antoninus
Pius have also been dug up, which make it most probable that
the theatre was built in the first half of the second century,
when, as we know, Gaul was covered with Roman civilisation,
and the two good emperors were her friends. If we could only
see it as it was then, complete in all its parts, gay with decora-
tions, and crowded from stage to awning with three thousand
Gallo-Roman spectators !
Around the theatre stood the temples and villas and the castle
of that ancient city. The site of the castle was too valuable to
be neglected, and William the Conqueror, in comparatively
3 20
LILLEBONNE TO TANCARVILLE
CHAP.
modern times, built here one of those strongholds, by means
of which he bore down his enemies and wiped out his bar
sinister. Here it was that the assembly met which decided on
the invasion of England. Private grounds now surround the
ruins, which are mainly remarkable for a fine round donjon, an
addition that is later, however, than the age of the Norman
dukes.
Our road turns round by the church (which, by the way, is
not orientated), and as we leave Lillebonne behind us we can
realise the singular beauty of its position in a bend of the hill.
The road now is perfectly flat all the way to Le Havre ; for
it lies on the land which was once part of the Seine-mouth, and
under the cliffs that once formed its bounds : so on the one side
there are always the fertile levels of recovered land, and on the
other the conspicuous broken hills.
But the aspect of these constant features changes as the
road winds along towards the broadening of the river. At
first the hills are well-wooded, and gardens and orchards lie
under their protection ; at Tancarville the red-splashed cliffs
force the road to curve out to the river at the issue of the canal
XII
THE TOWERS OF TANCARVILLE
321
from Le Havre ; beyond, they are sometimes abrupt and
white, sometimes they slope easily down to the ground, ribbed
with sheep-walks ; here and there they are opened by little
dingles or by forest valleys. The road itself is sometimes bare
enough, but oftener it has its banks of yellow rag-wort, with
here and there a tall hemlock or a patch of hemp-agrimony,
TancarT.'Ule Castle.
while, beyond the tossing grasses that fringe the banks, the
cattle graze with their ineffable satisfaction, unmoved by an
occasional boat that passes up the invisible canal as if it were
ploughing magically through the meadow.
The first incident after Lillebonne is Tancarville castle, which
makes a good show on its small plateau about half-way up the
hill. The corner bastion, the TourdetAigk^ looks down the
road, and it is under its spur projecting like the ram of a man-
of-war that the path leads up through a miniature park to the
castle gate. The two towers flanking the entrance once con-
tained prisons on their first floor ; the room between the towers
was for ordinary sinners, the room in the Tour du Griffon
kept the big offenders safe within walls nine feet thick, while
the rather lighter walls of the other tower were sufficient for
those of intermediate iniquity. But now we are courteously taken
through this once awful gate into a comfortable garden, where
the cMteau of 1709 reposes. It must be a capital place to live
Y
322 A SUCCESSFUL EXORCISM CHAP.
in, with its big rooms and its big view over the Seine, and the
consciousness that generations of fighting men have contributed
to make the garden walls burglar-proof. The various parts of
the old castle lie more or less in ruins around the garden : the
restored Tour de 1'Aigle which we have already marked ; at the
opposite end the cluster of ruins which once formed the heart
of the place, the grande salle (its stories marked by fire-places
one above the other), and the chapel. These buildings lie
between two towers, that towards the river, the Tour Carree, is
the oldest part of the castle ; it dates from the first part of the
twelfth century and was not dismantled till the Revolution.
The other and more imposing tower, called Coquesart, is some
three hundred years later and of curious triangular shape : you
will go in it and look up at the ribs of a ruined vault, suspended
in the air. Behind are the ruins of the keep. From the Tour
Coqucsart the chemin de ronde led along the wall past the round
Tour du Lion to the gateway. The wall is covered with split
flints, and stables are now built up against it : the Tour du Lion
has its mantle of ivy and its legend of the devil, though it
inspires no terrors now in the servant who points it out to you,
and rather resents the name of Devil's Tower which lovers
of the marvellous have given to it. A cachot within this tower
had impressed the popular imagination, till somebody started
the theory that the Devil inhabited it. A certain chaplain took
the matter seriously, and brought up a battalion of banners
with a battery of holy-water. The affrighted people drew back
while the good man entered alone, and after a minute of terrific
silence returned to announce that he had seen the Fiend, ex-
orcised him, and ordered him to depart, which he had done after
making a horrible, and one would think an undignified, grimace.
It was one of the Lords of Tancarville who founded the
Abbey of St. Georges de Boscherville. They were a powerful,
turbulent race. Rabel de Tancarville was so strong that when
he defied King Stephen the latter assured himself of the
French King's support before venturing to attack him. William,
XII
PIERRE-GANTE
323
Rabel's son, sided with Henry IL's rebellious children ; but
though Henry was both victorious and enraged, he ventured
on no revenge. At the beginning of the fourteenth century-
Robert de Tancarville had a furious quarrel with the Sire de
Harcourt, whose brother, the Tort de Harcourt, had seized a
mill at Lillebonne ; it ended in a fight before the three kings
Seine near Tancarville.
of France, England, and Navarre, at last the kings thought it
would be a pity to lose two such valiant men, and the King of
France cried Ho ! and stopped the duel Done fut crie ho de
par le ray de France. The race died out, and Tancarville
passed to the Melun, who were in their turn extinguished at
Agincourt, then to the Harcourt, and then to the usual double-
barrelled names till the Revolution.
Soon after the castle we pass the high cliffs of Tancarville.
They are very striking about here ; the one that lies behind
us, on the opposite side of the gorge, corresponding to that on
which the castle stands, is called Pierre-Gante, that is, Pierre
du Geant, because on the great over-hanging rock that crowns
it like an immense roof Gargantua used to sit while he washed
his feet in the Seine two hundred feet below. The river used
to run close up to the castle walls within living memory.
Y 2
324
HARFLEUR
CHAP.
Harfleur, or rather the spire of Harfleur's church, is the
next object ; for the town itself, which had been a favourite
haven of the Norman pirates, and a flourishing port even in the
Roman days, was at last left high and dry, till it became
merely a remote suburb to the new port of Le Havre. The
spire remained to
sustain a proper
pride among the
inhabitants: fine
rather than refined,
it is extremely con-
spicuous in the
neighbou rh ood,
"a 'stone giant
commanding the Seine," it enjoys, according to the Abbe
Cochet, "a colossal renown." It was built in the time of
Louis XI., and not during the English occupation. Casimir
Delavigne's lines are therefore not true
" Cost le clochcr d'Harfleur, clebout pour vous apprendre
Ouc 1' Anglais 1'a bati, mais n'a su le defendre."
Everywhere in the Pays de Caux the country folk fall into
this error of attributing all the important buildings to the
English. This lingering tradition is valuable as showing how
deeply the invasion stamped itself in the memory of the people,
but it seems to be without foundation, except in the single
case of Caudebec.
The north porch has also some renown, since a picture of
it is given in Parker's Glossary to illustrate the word " Flam-
boyant." It is as high as the wall, and looks as if it were
built in the wall's thickness, though it is really worked into an
aisle. The church, by the way, must have been curiously
shaped once, for though it has still five aisles, two others were
destroyed in 1806, when the present south wall was run up.
At Harfleur it becomes clear that we are on the outskirts of
a busy city. Tram lines and houses are with us for the rest
of the way ; yet once again we are to plunge back into the
XII
GRAVILLE
325
remoter middle ages. Close to the dingy road, as we pass
through the manufacturing suburb of Graville, the Norman
tower of the priory church of Sainte-Honorine comes into view.
The mouth of the Seine.
It is admirably placed on the side of the hill, and its western
doorway is reached by a long, imposing flight of steps.
There is a churchyard cross of the fourteenth century near
the doorway, a fine example quite worthy of admiration for
itself, but owing its present fame to the fact that the operatic
managers of Robert le Diable (with the instinct of their kind
for a blazing anachronism) introduced it into their scenery.
From the cross there is a view of the Seine mouth and the
shipping of the Havre.
The nave of the church is eleventh century, the choir early
thirteenth. The early Norman exterior is very rich in carving,
especially in the corbels, which afford a veritable bestiary ; the
horse, bat, dog, pig, ram, are the most familiar creatures, but
the old artists did not confine themselves to natural history,
and in a corbel on the south side some one took a lasting
revenge by carving a woman's likeness very carefully and then
finishing it off with the ears of an ass. Poor thing ! it was not
very chivalrous of him, even though he had suffered untold
326
AN EMPTY TOMB
CHAP. XII
things from her tongue ; that tongue has long been dust, but
the well-marked portrait remains for every tourist to smile at,
and thus does the artist get the better of the orator. The end
of the north transept is a celebrated piece of architecture ; it is
ornamented with a curious band of carving that is generally,
though inaccurately, called a Zodiac.
Inside, the church is remarkable for its capitals, which bear
some resemblance to those at Boscherville, as I have pointed
out. There are two " tournament " scenes, of which the best
belongs to the fourth pier on the south of the nave.
The tomb of the patron saint, a plain massive stone coffin,
was found in the wall in 1867, and can now be seen in the
north choir aisle. St. Honorine was martyred in the third
century on the Roman road between Lillebonne and Harfleur ;
her body was thrown into the river and washed ashore at
(Iraville: but at the Norman invasion it was taken out of
harm's way to Conflans, and there kept. Only the tomb in
which it then lay remains to the church that has kept alive the
memory of its obscure martyr ; but there are few monuments
more affecting than this rude sarcophagus that has been void
lor a thousand \vars.
Y. Joitin, near Rtretat.
CHAPTER XIII
LE HAVRE TO DIEPPE. LE HAVRE, ETRETAT, FECAMP, VALMONT,
SAINT-VALERY-EN-CAUX, MANOIR D'ANGO, POURVILLE.
" APRES Constantinople, il n'est rien de plus beau ! "
So wrote Casimir Delavigne, the conventional and patriotic
poet, in a line that sums up his character, if it fails to describe
his birthplace. To the mere stranger beauty does not appear
the salient characteristic of Le Havre. He remembers it as a
busy, rather dingy port, like Liverpool or a dozen other places,
with just those fine qualities which subjugated water never fails
to give ; he remembers it, too, as a place of dreary and dear
hotels (for France), of crowded streets and lively shops. In fact
it is the very opposite of the places he is used to in Normandy,
a town of the present day with a mushroom history of less
than four centuries. Think of it after Ouistreham or Lille-
bonne ! There are, it is true, plenty of watering-places com-
pared with which Le Havre is venerable, but it has not their
new-fangled graces, and its casino is a glum mockery.
So it is that travellers often fly from Le Havre at the break
of day. Yet, if they stay and get used to it, they may alter
their first opinion. It is pleasant to watch the great ships
shooting their way out of the avant-port, pleasant to see the
sun setting over the sea and the lights breaking out at Trou-
LE HAVRE
CHAP. XIII
ville on the
other side of
the bay. And
is it not always
worth while to
wander among
the docks, and
along the
streets behind,
where sea-
faring men
from all coun-
tries enjoy the
hospitality of
France ? And
down by the
Rue de Paris
there are ex-
cellent cafes ;
for this is the
real centre of
the town, and
the hotels here
are cheerful
enough. Besides, there is a west end, the Boulevard Mari-
time, which the hasty visitor does not discover at all; and
here is a brighter casino and a real beach. There are several
bathing places, too : and, without going further than that leased
by the Hotel Frascati, you can dive into good water at high
tide.
In the Rue tie Paris is the church of Notre-Dame, which
contains the history of Le Havre. For there was a sailors'
chapel of Xotre-Dame de Grace when Francois I. founded, in
1517, the new port, which was called Havre-de-Grace and some-
times Francoisville. In the modern glass of the Lady Chapel
The I Mel rfe I 'Hie, Havre.
Old Havrt.
33
THE ENGLISH AT LE HAVRE
CHAP.
'j5| Vj j*| .-==
~. are told some
of the stories
^ of its stirring
early history,
and a shell that
is preserved
there bears
witness to the
dangers that
even the church
did not escape.
Indeed, L e
Havre was held
by the English
in Elizabeth's
reign, when
they were ad-
mitted in 1562
by the French
Protestants ;
they seized
the recently-
finished tower
of the church,
and fi n d i n g
guns posted
there, turned them upon the royal camp. When the English
were driven out, the belfry was punished for its apostasy by the
loss of its spire and the lowering of its walls, so that it could
no longer be a danger to the town. The church itself was not
begun till 1^4, as the inscription of Master-Mason Duchemin
tells us. The strange aisles and chapels were not built till well
into the seventeenth century.
Whether we like Le Havre or not, at least it takes a graceful
leave of us, if we go by the direct route to ittretat (leaving
'-,
XIII
THE PAYS DE CAUX
33i
Montivilliers as too far out of the way) ; as we ride along the
Boulevard Maritime we begin to wonder whether we have
quite done it justice, and then, leaving the Cap de la Heve
on the left we find ourselves on the side of a valley that might
be in Switzerland.
After this interlude the country assumes the aspect which is
characteristic of this part of the Pays de Caux. There are
FalaiseefAmont, Etretat.
always slight undulations, but never any hills. Neither are
there hedges, the broad fields are bare bare earth and stubble,
both golden under a September sun. Instead of the homely
cottages and the low buildings of a farm which you might
expect, the presence of man the subduer is betokened by square
green islands of elm-trees. The trees grow in serried ranks on
low ramparts of earth, and form lofty walls, within which farms
and orchards lie at peace when the winds blow from the sea.
Just at the end of this easy and pleasant side, we pass the
chateau of Frefosse whose disproportionately huge spires
importune the passer-by, and then the road slips down into
Etretat.
A quiet little beach in a tiny bay between two white capes ;
on the beach fishing boats are stranded, and fishermen sit
332 ETRETAT CHAP.
mending sea-green nets. Such is Etretat at certain hours of
the day. But if you go into the Casino a little later, Etretat
appears an entirely different place. It is crowded, you find,
with French and English, who walk up and down with one
noble altruistic purpose, that of enabling you to study the
latest frocks that needle and purse have managed to achieve.
There is all the difference in the world between this place and
Le Havre ; there folk were making money, here they are trying
to spend it, and if they find that difficult, the " little horses "
will help them. Etretat is fashionable.
The reason of it is this. Ninety people out of a hundred
are more or less blind. They are incapable of perceiving a
pretty place when they see it, or at least they were, fifty years
ago. Then some one is born with eyes in his head. He finds
that his country swarms with villages that are beautiful. He
goes to one or two for his holidays. If he is selfish, or very
wise, or both, he says nothing, but if he has to write books in
order to get any holiday at all, what is he to do ?
Isabey discovered Etretat, and said nothing. Alphonse
Karr discovered it, and wrote books, among others Le Chemin
le plus Court, in which the unknown village was often men-
tioned. " Where is this pretty place ? " asked the world and
XIII
THE WHITE LADIES
333
his wife, more especially his wife. They came here, and said,
" Yes, it is very beautiful." And, lest they should be bored
by so much beauty, they brought their waiters, and musicians,
and " little horses." Etretat in gratitude possessed itself of a
Rue Alphonse-Karr.
Presumably it was the high chalk cliffs that made the
fortune of Etretat, those two white capes which enclose the
The Beach, Etretat.
little bay. That on the right is called the Falaise cTAmont
and throws out an arch at its extremity ; the other is called the
Falaise d'Aval and also throws out an arch, or rather a flying
buttress, into the sea. The opening thus formed is called the
Porte d Aval ; above it the end of the cape is marked by a
sham castle which has sham ornaments, and even sham cracks,
and a sham wooden bridge made of cement. But it is worth
while going there to look down the sheer precipice at the blue
sea far below, and to see the Aiguille d 1 Etretat which is more
than two hundred feet high, and the other " needle " on which
is the platform called the Chambre aux Demoiselles.
And who were these Demoiselles ? They were three sisters
who lived at Etretat, as fair as they were good. The Chevalier
de Frefosse, a lord of evil renown, sent his men to seize them
334
FECAMP CHAP.
and bring them to his castle. But all his efforts were in vain
against the pride of their modesty. Whereat in his exceeding
wrath he put them into barrels and threw them over the cliff.
From that hour the pursuer was pursued ; often would three
white figures be seen mournfully singing at the Chambre aux
Demoiselles, and whenever the Chevalier went to pleasant
feast or joust the three white figures went with him. At length
he died of the horror of his remorse, and thenceforward the
white forms were no longer seen, nor did their plaintive song
trouble any longer the frightened fisherfolk of Etretat. If you
stay at Etretat you can go and see the other pierced cape
beyond Aval, the Manneport, and the long tunnel of Amont
which acts as a kind of waste-pipe to the bay, and preserves
Etretat from flooding in stormy weather.
When you set off for Fecamp you will pass out of Etretat
by the very interesting church, which has a Norman nave
with two Early French bays, choir, transepts, and high
lantern. Legend ascribes its unusual situation to the devil,
who removed the stones every night from the site that had
been chosen, till the pious foundress decided that it would be
more humble to struggle no more against the powers of evil.
The Fecamp road creeps up along the side of the hill, and to
the mere cyclist it is memorable for the two tiresome climbs out
of the quiet villa-villages of Vattetot and Yport ; but it is
only thirteen miles to Fecamp, and pretty all the way, especially
when Fecamp itself comes into sight.
You have been vociferously told in every town you have
passed through that Fecamp is famous for its Benedictine
establishment, and the letters I). O. M. which you have seen
everywhere may lead you to expect a quiet home of monks.
But the much advertised Benedictine appeals not to the soul,
but to the stomach ; the spiritual house is gone and only
the carnal one flourishes ; for France has changed.
Before the Revolution the Abbey stood in all its pride
within its own fortified enclosure. Two cloisters on the
BEFORE THE REVOLUTION
335
church's north side were separated by the refectory, and had
each a fountain in its midst, while the great library stretched
right along one side of the double quadrangle. Many other
churches were gathered near it in the streets of Fe'camp. Of
these St. Etienne remains, a queer jumble of Flamboyant and
Renaissance, that seems to be nearly all choir, with just its
heavy-piered tower for nave ; for the real nave is such a
Normandy Farm, near Etrctat.
makeshift that the stranger fancies himself already in the
porch. As for the abbey, whose glories old Wace had sung
" Li Mustier de Fescam. . . .
Ki est de grant auctorite
El nun de saincte Trinite."
it was secularised at the Revolution, when eight churches in
the town and several chapels were altogether suppressed.
This was the process: in 1790, the National Assembly con-
fiscated all Church property, and the monks of Fecamp were
invited to go back into the world, though most refused to do
so. Next year all the churches of Fe'camp were suppressed
except St. Etienne and the abbey church, which was now called
merely Ste. Trinite, and was given an ex-Benedictine monk
for cure. In 1793, a good deal more progress had been made :
336 A FEAST OF REASON CHAP.
the city archives have preserved for us an account of the Feast
of Reason that was held on the " 20 Frimaire, an II."
It was decadi, the new-fangled Sunday freed from the tram-
mels of superstition and properly arranged on the decimal
system. Shop-keepers who did not close on this decimal day,
or who dared to put up their shutters on the "jour du ci-devant
dimanche" were condemned to eight days (why not ten days ?)
imprisonment. A procession left the " Maison Commune "
and proceeded to the " Place de la Liberte ; " in front marched
the volunteers with a band, then came La Liberte holding in
her hand a pike on which was the symbolic red cotton night-
cap, then EEgalite who held a level, and last of all, surrounded
by schoolmasters and schoolmistresses with their children,
and by young citoyennes dressed in white, walked La Raisoti,
who was no less a person than " la citoyenne Floriand
(comedienne)" In the Place de la Liberte stood a veiled
statue of Liberty, and at its feet a pyre. On the back of an ass
were now solemnly brought up " ks attirails odieux de Ferreitr"
to wit, the attributes of fanaticism, royalty, and feudalism ;
La Raisoti set light to the pyre, and threw on to it the odious
paraphernalia. Then the citoyenne Liberte unveiled the statue,
and put into its hand a pike with the red cap, while the crowd
sang " rhymne chcrie de la Liberte}'' After this touching
ceremony the procession formed up again, and marched to
the " Temple " (formerly known as the church of Ste. Trinite).
In the Temple was an altar, the description of which I dare
not spoil by translation
" un autel simplement de'core et consacre a
la prosperite' de la patrie, sur lequel un feu
pur, symbole de la ge'ne'ration, a brule a
1'honneur du premier don de la nature, celui
de la Raison.''
On the right of the altar stood citizen Liberty, on the left
citizen Equality, in the midst citizen Reason advanced and
XIII
EBB-TIDE
337
unveiled a statue of Reason, while the Temple resounded
with cries of Vive la Republique ! Vive la Liberte ! Vive la
Montagne ! A hymn to Reason was then sung, after which
" orators and philosophers " spoke, no doubt at some length,
on the benefits of liberty, and the horrors of superstition,
fanaticism, and tyranny.
Easy enough to smile at the quaint ceremony ! But I
confess with me the smile gives way before a sorrowful respect
The Churches, I'ccauip.
for men who did at least believe in something besides their
own "glory," and who held their faith with such childlike,
childish, and altogether touching simplicity. The freshness of
that new world soon faded, and men began to see that they
were not living in the second year of the Millennium, but in the
second millennium of the Christian era. In 1795, the wave
began to recede ; Catholic worship was allowed once more in
the choir of Ste. Trinite'.
The abbey church remains intact, with its late and ugly con-
ventual buildings, now devoted to municipal purposes. It is
a Transitional church, plain and to my mind clumsy. In fact
I do not like it much ; and therefore I will give you Freeman's
word for it that the church is " one of the noblest even in Nor-
z
338 THE MINSTER OF FECAMP CHAP.
mandy, and it is in remarkably good preservation." In Travels
in Normandy and Maine he describes the nave thus : " The
whole of this western limb is built in the simplest and severest
form of that earliest French Gothic, which to an English
eye seems to be simply an advanced form of the transition from
Romanesque The large triforium, the untraceried win-
dows, the squareness of everything except a few English round
abaci in some bays of the triforium, the external heaviness and
simplicity, all make the early Gothic of Fe'camp little more
than pointed Romanesque."
There is a bay of earlier work, Norman of the end of the
eleventh century, on the north of the choir. The rest of the
choir is Transitional ; but on its south side the triforium was
very cleverly cut away in the fourteenth century to allow of a
high vault to the ambulatory, and with but slight alteration this
part of the church was thus converted into the late Gothic
style.
The stone screens in the ambulatory are remarkable examples
of Francois Premier decoration. M. Palustre says that they are
much better than the more famous work at Laon ; and certainly
with their cupids and dragons and dolphins, their strange little
columns, some twisted, some divided, and some square, they
represent the wanton grace of the early Renaissance at its
height. Visitors generally have their attention drawn to the
large coloured sculpture in the south transept of the Falling
Asleep of the Virgin ; it was carved about the year 1500 by a
monk of Fe'camp, and bears all the marks of a well-meaning
amateur ; the prominent figure of a man blowing up the char-
coal in the censer is a bit of genre that illustrates his want of
tact.
Behind the high altar and facing the Lady chapel is a small
tabernacle of the sixteenth century which contains the famous
relic of the Precious Blood. This relic has a far more mar-
vellous history than that of the Saint-Sang at Bruges ; but for
all that it is still venerated, and the Fontaine du Precieux-Sang,
xiii A MARVELLOUS LEGEND 339
in the Rue de 1'Aumone, is even now frequented by many who
believe in its healing virtues. The ancient account of the
legend can be bought of the guardian of the well : it is long and
exceedingly involved, but its main features are these :
Joseph of Arimathaea, when he buried the body of Christ,
took some of the blood from the wounds and hid it in a
glove. This he cherished with great reverence all his life and
bequeathed to his nephew Isaac with the words, " Here is
the blood of that great prophet, Jesus, whom our fathers unjustly
crucified." Isaac kept the precious gift in a cupboard, and
adored it every day ; and because of it, from poverty he grew into
great richness. His wife wondered at this change in his estate,
and asked him the reason. When he told her, she was angry
at his breaking the law of the Jews, and delivered him up to
them for idolatry. But the power of Christ protected him, and
the Jews let him go free on condition that he would no longer
worship his idol. He then left Jerusalem, and took up his abode
at Sidon, where he continued his devotions unmolested. But
one night he was warned in a dream that Titus and Vespasian
were coming to Palestine to destroy the temple at Jerusalem.
He therefore set himself to discover a means of concealing
the Precious Blood in safety ; and at last bethought him of a
great fig-tree that grew in his garden. He made a round hole
in this tree, and placed the relic therein, having first sealed it
up in a little vessel of lead, which he made long and narrow
according to the size of the hole. Another hole and another
leaden vessel he made to contain a piece of iron which had
been one of the instruments of the Crucifixion. When he
had closed the openings with great care, lo ! the bark grew over
them, and hid every mark of his work. It was by this miracle
that he learnt for the first time that Christ was God as well as
Man.
After some time had passed, the dream-voice that he had
heard before warned him of the approach of the Roman legions,
and told him to cut down the fig tree. This he did, leaving
z 2
340 "TO FACILITATE THE DIGESTION" CHAP.
only the trunk with its sacred contents. But at last he found
he could keep it intact no longer, for it was dead and the
ground swamped by the salt waters, and so he dug it up and
threw it into the sea with a fervent prayer that God would lead
it to some honest place. Another vision consoled him with the
message that God would cause the trunk to be carried to one
of the furthest provinces of France. It was indeed cast up on
to the valley which thenceforward has been called Fid campus,
the field of the fig tree, or Fe'camp.
There is a legend for you ! But that is only the beginning
of the Histoire du Pre'cieux Sang. All the strange things that
happened to the wonderful trunk before its contents were dis-
covered make a story twice as long as that of its arrival on
these shores.
It is, I suppose, difficult to avoid a visit to the Benedictine
factory, which forms the last chapter in the legend of the fig-
tree. However false the ficulnean etymology may be, it is
historically true that Fecamp owed its monastery and its
prosperity to its possession of the miraculous relic. And from
its monastery sprang the liqueur, which was invented, it is said,
by a monk of the abbey, l)om Vincelli, about the year 1510.
At first it was intended as a cordial for the sick whom the
monks visited. At the Revolution the recipe was saved, by
the steward of the abbey, a descendant of whom is now the
director of the factory. Wise in his generation, this gentleman
lias maintained a close connection with the Church ; the Arch-
bishop of Rouen blessed the new buildings in 1895 (they are,
I understand, much admired in France) ; the Pope made the
director a Commander of the Order of St. Gregory (needless
to say, he was already a Knight of the Legion of Honour) ; the
sifters of St. Vincent cle Paul look after the girls who make up
the bottles. Furthermore, a good collection of relics from the
abbey seals, vessels,enamels, ivories, and furniture is preserved
in the museum, which is shown to visitors. They are not, how-
ever, initiated into the mysteries of the manufacture, but must
XIII
THE EXPLOIT OF BOIS-ROSE
341
be content with the later stages of bottling, sealing, and packing ;
in fact, with those minor operations that are calculated to
impress them with an idea of the enormous trade done by " La
Benedictine"
Fe'camp, having been built in the days before sea-bathing
was appreciated, is really an inland town, and the abbey is
some way from the sea. There is a good port, but the sea-
front is passing dull, and Fe'camp is not a favourite place for a
stay. On the cliff to the north is the restored chapel of Notre-
Dame de Salut ; near it, where the lighthouse now stands, a
fort was built in 1591, and this was the scene of a marvellous
exploit in the following year. Bois-Rose, a captain of the
Catholic Ligue that opposed Henry IV., determined to make
himself master of the fortress, strongly guarded though it was
on every side except that of the cliff, which was deemed inac-
cessible. Having first got two trusty men admitted into the
enemy's garrison, he set out one dark and stormy night with
fifty men in two boats, and reached the foot of the cliff. The
confederates above let down a rope to which Bois-Rose attached
a knotted cable. When this was drawn up to the top of the
cliff and securely fixed, the adventurers began to climb up it,
two sergeants in front and Bois-Rose himself at the rear. But
when they were about half-way up there was a stop. Bois-Rose
found that one of the sergeants had lost his nerve and refused
to go on. Thereupon the intrepid captain climbed up over
the shoulders of his men till he reached the sergeant, and,
pointing his sword at his breast, forced him to go on. They all
reached the top without further misadventure, killed the sentries,
and took the garrison prisoners
After Fecamp you might go round by Valmont if you have
the means of getting in, but, alas ! at present (1904) it is entree
interdite to visitors. Valmont contains the seat of the Sires
d'Estouteville, a fine castle with one picturesque fifteenth century
wing, and one of 1536 that has been altered in later times. There
is also a Norman keep, and an imposing ruined abbey with quasi-
342 VALMONT AND SAINT-VAL&RY GHAP.
Doric piers and an Ionic triforium. The abbey has a beautiful
vaulted chapel, called the Chapelle de Six-Heures, that is not
ruined ; besides its sixteenth century glass, it contains a
sculptured Annunciation over the altar, and three tombs of
the Sires d'Estouteville which Victor Hugo made famous in his
Notre-Dame de Paris. One is a sixteenth century monument
of Nicolas d'Estouteville, who founded the abbey in the days
when William the Conqueror was still struggling for his duchy.
This Nicolas seems to have been an unpleasant person, who
built his abbey on the sweating system. His daughter used to
take food to the half-starved workmen, and the same story is
told of her as of St. Elizabeth of Hungary that her father
met her once and asked what she was concealing under her
cloak, and she replied that she had only a bundle of roses and
some water, and so by a miracle it was.
Saint- Valery-en-Caux is a picturesque old watering-place ;
everybody knows its Maison Henri IV., a fine timber house
(though robbed of its dormers) where the king does really seem
to have stayed. St. Valery came in for its share of hard
knocks, as you can read in the guide books, but you will not
read there about Mademoiselle de Bre'aute. Like the lady at
Valmont, her charity was repressed by a churlish father, and,
indeed, another Miracle of the Roses is told of her. When he
died she took a gentle revenge by devoting herself entirely to
the poor. She was famous all over the country for her won-
derful beauty. Then, disturbed at the homage it brought, she
prayed that the perilous gift might be taken back. And so it
was ; the beauty faded out of her face. But (and here, I
think, is the virtue of the story) people admired her none the
less, and the renown of her loveliness continued unabated. It
is not yet forgotten ; many a vain wench has been rebuked
with the words, " Quand tu seras belle comme mademoiselle
de Breaute . . ! "
Veules is a charming village between the cliffs, much loved
by painters, and crowded, of course, in the summer. But I
xin JEAN ANGO 343
must hurry you on, or there will be no room to say anything
about Dieppe. And my purpose is that you shall have a little
spare daylight to go round by Le Mesnil, five miles this side of
Dieppe, and turn off there to see the Manoir d'Ango.
Jean Ango, the "Medici of Dieppe," was born about 1480;
his father had made a fortune by sea, and was rich enough in
St. l*~alery-en-Caux.
1508 to send off two ships on an attempt to colonise Newfound-
land. When his father died, Jean gave up seafaring and stayed
at home in Dieppe to pile up more fortune as an armateur
the word means more than our "ship-owner," for it includes
privateering as well as the normal methods of trade. Jean
soon had a fleet in his possession, through which he traded
with all quarters of the globe from the East Indies to the New
World. By 1525 his fortune had become fabulous; he lived
as a prince, and built a glorious house of sculptured oak that
was the wonder of every traveller who saw it ; even Italians were
astonished thereat, and they found it filled with masterpieces
from their own country. Not content with this house in Dieppe,
he built the Manoir that now perpetuates his name, for a maison
de plaisance in the country.
In 1532 Ango entertained Francois I. with a refinement of
344
THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE
CHAP.
magnificence that was only possible to a merchant prince who
could collect luxuries from every part of the world. The King
was dazzled by this Orient display and made his host a Vicomte.
At this time the noble armateur had some fifteen or twenty
warships to protect his merchant fleets. His men had many
quarrels with Flemish and Portuguese sailors; and at last a
Fishing boats.
vessel of his was seized and dragged into Lisbon after its crew
had been massacred. Ango at once despatched a fleet to the
Hay of Biscay, burnt several Portuguese villages, and captured
some richly laden ships. The Portuguese never thought that
so formidable an attack upon their coasts could be the work of
a private citizen, but sent to ask the King the reason of France's
violation of peace. Francois replied: " Messieurs, ce rfest pas
inoi (/ui vons fais la guerre. Allez trouver Ango, et arrangez
7><>its arec /ui"
At the death of Francois, fortune began to desert Ango. He
now lived no longer in his beautiful house, but in the castle as
( Governor, and his pride was so great that his old companions
hated him. The climax came when in full assembly he struck
a merchant named Morel for venturing to disagree with him.
Morel lost no time in taking revenge: he accused Ango in
court of having swindled when they had acted in partnership
over some trading venture. Encouraged by his success, five or
JII
MANOIR D'ANGO
345
six other
of Ango's
neglec ted
comrades
brought fur-
ther actions.
Ango had
squandered
most of his
huge fortune
in magnifi-
cence, and
now credi-
tors came
swarming in
to take his
pictures, his
plate, his
houses. For
a year or
two more he
lingered on
in the castle,
not daring to
go out, and
then died
lonely and
impoverish-
ed in 1551.
The coun-
try house which
Poplar lined road.
this sumptuous merchant-venturer built
for himself in 1532 is one of the most delightful bits of
domestic work in Normandy. It forms a quadrangle, entered by
two archways, and at one end of it stands one of those colombiers
which were a privilege of high estate in France ; never were
pigeons better housed than in this beautiful round tower. The
346 A DELICATE AMAZON CHAP, xin
most interesting side of the quadrangle has a loggia with round
arches, oval windows below, and Renaissance doorways with
little Gothic spandrels. There is nothing fixed or mechanical
about this early classicalism ; it has a living style of its own,
better than the debased Gothic it succeeded as it was better than
the heavy formalism into which it was so soon to degenerate.
Such is the Manoir d'Ango, fallen like its master from high
estate, and now a mere farmyard where the cock triumphs on
his dungheap and the sow wallows in abundant mire.
The last dip before the hill that leads down to Dieppe con-
tains the little villa-station of Pourville, which was the scene of
a curious incident. In 1650, the famous Duchess of Longue-
ville, in order to avenge the detention of her husband, tried to
raise Normandy against the king. The Parlement of Rouen
repulsed her, and she had to content herself with taking
possession of Dieppe Castle, from which coign of vantage she
threatened with her cannon the town at her feet. But the
Dieppois, so far from being alarmed, determined to turn the
tables on the Duchess and frighten her out of the castle. They
lit lanterns in every house in order to make her think they
were planning some terrible surprise. The stratagem succeeded ;
the poor I Hichess was so much alarmed by the vigilant appear-
ance of the unawed city that she fled that very night, fled
precipitately over the drawbridge and down the hill, fled with
only a few proven domestics, fled so hurriedly that, poor soul !
she tumbled into the river at Pourville.
Trembling with fear and cold, this victim of the horrors of
war was conducted to the fires fry fere, where Monsieur Letellier,
the cun\ received her with all the honour due to her rank,
sex. and misfortunes. He burned large quantities of wood for
her benefit, and put the cellar of his little house at the disposal
of her suite. Cider and warmth consoled Madame de Longue-
ville, and she showed her gratitude by giving the cure a pension
of 200 litres (drawn from another clergyman's living) and the
right to take 200 fagots from her forest of Hautot.
Fishing boats leaving Dieppe.
CHAPTER XIV
DIEPPE, ARQUES, EU.
THERE is no seaside place like Dieppe. It is not only the sea,
though that seems always to have a special blueness here, nor the
further ranges of high white cliffs which take up the blue of
the sea, nor the hills and villages and forest of the countryside,
nor the ancient castle which looks across the broad lawns that
keep the beach and sea-front so happily apart. It is all these,
combined with the fact that Dieppe, in spite of its vogue, is
still an old-fashioned town. The sober white houses of its
front are comparatively unspoilt by modern attempts at self-
advertisement, and its high-street is such a thoroughfare as
Sterne might have walked in.
This special character is partly due to a melancholy exploit
of our own. In 1694 an English fleet, annoyed by the privateers
of Dieppe, threw bombs into the town till the whole place was
ablaze. The old wooden town disappeared, and with it the
house of Ango, which was said to be the finest in Normandy.
Thenceforward formal houses were slowly built around the
Gothic church of St. Jacques and its later neighbour, St. Remi,
which had both escaped destruction. But on the other side of
the harbour, the suburb of Le Pollet is irregular enough, and
as different to Dieppe as if miles of water lay between them.
348 TALBOT'S BASTILLE CHAP.
It is the home of the fishermen, who sail away as far as the
north of Scotland in search of the herring, and pursue the cod
in the waters of Newfoundland.
The cliff above Le Pollet is still called Le Bastille, and a
few bits of wall with some caverns can be seen from the quay
to remind us of the fortress which was built here in 1562, and
demolished a century later. But the name takes us back to
earlier times. It was Talbot who first established a bastille on
Le Pollet, when he laid siege to Dieppe. In the midwinter of
1442 he built on the summit of the cliff a large and strong
tower of wood, surrounded by a fosse, and provided with twenty
cannon besides smaller arms. Leaving a garrison in possession,
he then sailed for England to collect troops and a blockading
squadron. The Dieppois appealed to King Charles VII. Louis
the Dauphin was with the King at Poitiers when the appeal
came ; he was burning to distinguish himself, and undertook
to raise the siege. With some experienced captains and 1,600
troops he marched down in the summer of 1443 ; by the time
he reached Dieppe his army was doubled in numbers. It was
Sunday, August loth : without waiting to rest his men, the
impetuous youth (he was just twenty) crossed the river at five
on the Sunday evening and began the siege. The English tried
two sorties which were unsuccessful, but Louis could not
retaliate without some means of attack. So for the next three
days he set his engineers to make six rolling bridges, looking
anxiously the while for signs of the dreaded English fleet. On
Wednesday the bridges were ready, and at night they were
taken over to Le Pollet. On Thursday morning the assault
began. The six bridges were run on wheels in an upright
position, and were so made that when they reached the fosse
they could be lowered across it, so that their further ends
rested on the escarp. This operation being managed
successfully, the French took their scaling ladders across
and began an escalade from six points at once. But the
stones and arrows of the English were too much for
xiv LOUIS THE DAUPHIN 349
them ; a hundred rolled into the fosse, and the rest retired
discomfited.
It was now mid-day. The Dauphin was foaming with rage.
The faces of his captains told him too clearly what they thought
of his inexperienced rashness. But the passion of battle was
on him : he seized a ladder, dashed to the fosse, threw himself
The Market, Dieppe.
on one of the bridges, and began to climb the wall. Needless to
say, the whole army rushed to help him, and reached the wall
as soon as he. They streamed up the ladders with such fury
that the English fell back, and after losing five hundred men
were forced to surrender. The bastille was razed to the
ground.
Meanwhile, all day long the clergy had been walking in pro-
cession through the streets of Dieppe, praying for the success of
their defenders. When the fight was over, Louis went straight
off to St Jacques, blood-stained as he was, to give thanks
to the Blessed Virgin, the Vigil of whose Assumption it was
that day.
What a contrast there is between the fearless dashing
Louis the Dauphin of twenty in the flush of his first success,
and the King Louis XL of forty years later, self-imprisoned in
his iron -bound castle of Plessis-les-Tours, a living skeleton
350 MASS IN MASQUERADE CHAP.
splendidly dressed in velvet and furs, living there as if he were in
a state of siege, consumed with suspicions, forbidding his courtiers
to breathe the very name of death, practising strange supersti-
tions, hated, hating, courted, and alone !
For ages after, the Vigil of the Assumption was kept as a
glorious anniversary in Dieppe. The occasion was marked by
the very curious observances called Les Mitouries de la Mi-
Aoust. They continued, long after other miracle-plays had died
out, down to 1647, when Louis XIV. happened to witness them
and was so shocked at their want of decorum that he ordered
their discontinuance. I do not wonder. This is what used
to happen every August in Dieppe. For two or three hours
a procession paraded the town consisting of eleven Confreres
de m Mi-Aoust dressed up as apostles, one priest disguised as St.
Peter, and one beautiful young girl who was supposed to repre-
sent the Blessed Virgin ; she was borne about in a leafy couch,
and the procession was accompanied by all the magistrates and
officials bearing tapers. At the Church of St. Jacques the crush
was so great that the soldiers had to force a way for the
procession with their halberds. Two masts on either side of
the high altar supported a platform which stood at a great
height against the end of the choir. On this platform a vener-
able old man represented le Pcre Eternel; he wore a tiara, sat
on a cloud, and was surrounded by the sun and a multitude of
stars. Marionettes in the form of angles circulated around him ;
they were so cunningly worked that they not only swung
censers, but even put out the candles when service was over, and
some of them when the organ sounded held trumpets to their
lips with such life-like effect that the people went mad with
delight. Before the high altar a sort of garden was arranged,
with waxen flowers and fruits, and here the Virgin lay on her death
bed. As the Mass began in this strange blending of mummery
and worship, she was drawn up by angels, but so slowly that
s'ie did not arrive at the platform till the moment of adoration,
when the Pcre Eternel blessed her thrice, and the angels laid
xiv SAINT-JACQUES 351
a crown upon her head. The Mass was said by St. Peter, and
the other Apostles were forced to communicate on pain of
a fine. To add to the extraordinary mixture, a buffoon, long
famous as Gringalet, played the fool and apostrophised the
most sacred personages, to the intense delight of the congre-
gation. The day ended fitly with orgies all over Dieppe.
After the triumph of 1443, an extraordinary era of prosperity
began for Dieppe. It is difficult for us now to imagine that her
merchant fleet was the best in France. Yet Henri II. once
consulted with Coligny as to how he could raise a fleet
powerful enough to chastise the Flemish, and the great
admiral replied, "Only the burgesses and merchants of Dieppe
could furnish such a thing to your majesty." And so they did.
Nineteen peaceful-looking vessels sailed out from the port, and
fourteen of them returned anon with six large Flemish ships in
tow, survivors of a merchant fleet. Both the churches of
Dieppe bear ample witness to the city's golden age, indeed St.
Remi was built just at its height, and the later additions to
St. Jacques are steeped in reminiscence of Ango.
St. Jacques is everything to Dieppe. It stands in the
heart of the town, to link it with the incredible past, and throws
out its own weather-worn daintiness of intricate form in
happiest contrast with the well-kept regularity that has grown
up around it. To the mere architect it is remarkable for the
battlements on its tower, since the ornamental use of battle-
ments, so constant in England, is found nowhere else in
French churches (if we except a fragment in the English town
of Calais). The battlements, which are pierced, surmount the
lower story of the tower, and are therefore not very con-
spicuous ; they are due to some English influence, and
indeed, the principal windows of the story are quite Perpen-
dicular in character. The upper part of the tower was added
later, as is shown by its mixed Flamboyant and Renaissance
workmanship. You will hardly fail to notice also the western
turrets, whose gargoyles spread so curiously from their flat tops,
352
THE WEST FRONT
CHAP.
Tou<cr of St. Jacques.
but the west front itself is interesting also, for it is complete
fourteenth century, and facades of the Decorated style are
uncommon in France, as it is, the rose window comes very
xiv THE CHEVET
353
near to Flamboyance, and even the angles about it are
pierced.
Going round the fine but crumbling lateral porches, which
take us back to the thirteenth century, you come to the chevet,
which was at any time a worthy rival of the more famous east
end of St. Pierre at Caen, and is now alone in its glory ; for
the restorer has rebuilt St. Pierre, but St. Jacques has kept him
off from its picturesque jumble of Flamboyant and Renaissance
audacities, its niches, turrets, parapets, and candelabrum
pinnacles, even from the old red tiled roof of its Lady
Chapel.
Ango built these chapels about fifteen years after Hector
Sohier had designed the chevet of St. Pierre, and in 1551 his
tomb was made in one of them. As you enter the church by
either side door you may notice the rose window ; on both
sides these windows were slightly remodelled in the middle of
the seventeenth century. The pier arches of the nave are
thirteenth century, the triforium fourteenth, and the clerestory
another century later. But it is Ango's chapels that are most
interesting ; and especially the mixed quaintness of the Tresor,
where there is a doorway half clumsy and half graceful, a
frieze containing savages (reminiscent of the adventurous
merchants of Dieppe in its palmy days), Gothic tracery in
panels that are separated by pilasters, and canopies of
jeweller's delicacy over tiny figures, or sometimes over mere
shells and other ornaments. In some of the chapels the
restorer has been at work, and the screens are modern, but
much remains. How interesting are the niches of the Lady
Chapel, with their sculptured bases and their canopies like
fairy wedding-cakes !
The church of St. Remi gives a good feature to the west
end of Dieppe in its tower, a rather low edifice in three orders
with a pretty row of external bells that form the crest of its
roof. Otherwise it is not very beautiful ; but it is interesting
because it is a very early triumph of classicalism in France.
A A
354
SAINT-REMI
CHAP.
Whereas the renaissance began generally with minutuv, the
architect of St. Remi set up huge columns such as are found
nowhere else at so early a date ; for this was between 1522 and
1531, two or three years before the chevet of St. Jacques was
.Ju
Dieppe.
being crowded with detail. At the crossing the piers have
clustered shafts, and the caps are ornamented with little
cupids.
The civil history of Dieppe, the enterprise and prosperity of
its merchants, may be summed up in that of Jean Ango
(p. 343). Its military history has centered round four
fortresses (if we may plunge so far into the past as to make
the Cite de Limes the parent of Dieppe\ at Limes, Arques,
Pollet, and Dieppe itself. Le Pollet I have mentioned ; and
as you will have a good deal about castles in this chapter, I
will say nothing about the beautiful one in Dieppe itself and
the gateway at its feet, except that it was built in the reign of
Charles VII., and was held by Sigognes in the next century to
keep the Huguenots quiet.
As you walk along the Plage you can see quite clearly on
the hill above Puys a steep swelling in the green turf, such as
makes the antiquarian exclaim " Roman camp ! " If you go
over to Puys, your respect for these great ramparts will increase ;
XIV
CITE DE LIMES
355
you can walk up behind the hotel, and climb on to one of
them, and see how large a space they enclose, even now when
much of the area has been lost by the gradual falling away of
the cliff that makes the base of the triangular camp. The natives
call it the Camp de Cesar, but really it is one of those fortified
Dieppe Castle.
towns which the Gauls made for themselves in the prehistoric
days. Roman remains have, it is true, been discovered in this
venerable city, but Gaulish ones as well, and the flint weapons
which take us back to the origins of the race ; some of these
you can see in the Museum, with a model of the earth-works ;
and you can imagine it as it once was, filled with round wattled
huts, and busy with the life of some primitive tribe.
Its inhabitants disappeared, or drifted down to Arques and
Dieppe, ages afterwards, and then the Northman appeared and
founded Dieppe whose Teutonic name is so closely akin to
the English form "The Deeps." But even in the fifteenth
century there was still a " Cure' de Limes," though he had no
parishioners and no duties.
The castle of Arques takes us on to Norman days, though
even there we are still on the border-land of legend. Robert
le Diable is said to have rebuked his mother here for having
given him birth, and there is a good deal that is fabulous about
the story of Robert le Diable. As a matter of history, Arques
A A 2
356
THE BUILDING OF ARQUES
CHAP.
seems to have been the immediate parent of Dieppe. It was
once a fishing village even in the seventeenth century it was
still accessible to ships and some fishermen of Arques laid, it
is said, the foundations of Dieppe.
The building of Arques Castle is historical enough. William
the Conqueror, when but a boy, and less gloriously known as
Guillaume le Bfitard, gave the lordship of Arques to his uncle
who was called henceforward Guillaume d'Arques. This
worthy, trusting on his legitimacy, determined to make himself
Duke of Normandy, and with careful foresight, set himself
about 1040 to build a huge castle on the hill above the town.
But by the time he had made his castle impregnable, his
nephew had developed a character that was stronger than any
walls of stone. No sooner had the elder William declared
himself against his nephew than he was besieged within his
fortress. Arques proved worthy of the pains bestowed upon it
indeed, it has never at any time been taken by force and all
the Bastard could do was to sit down before it, and wait for
hunger to do its work. The King of France intervened in
favour of the besieged, and succeeded once in forcing the lines
and carrying food into the castle ; but the Bastard held on, and
MAYENNE AND NAVARRE
357
in 1053 the garrison surrendered. From that time forward
Arques was one of the chief strongholds of the Norman dukes,
and it was the last place to fall into the hands of Philippe
Auguste when he won Normandy from King John. In the
Hundred Years War it retained the honour of being the last
Norman stronghold to surrender to the English and at the end
to the French again.
In the fifteenth century it had been strengthened by an
outer court and modified for the use of cannon. About a
hundred years later, in the last stage of the religious wars, it was
the scene of the great battle by which it is best remembered,
the battle that secured Henri de Navarre on the first steps of
the throne of a united France.
This was in 1589 ; but five years earlier the castle had been
captured for Henri by some soldiers of Dieppe who came in
seafaring guise to sell fish, and easily surprised the foolish
garrison which had held Arques for the Ligite. When in
1589 Henri started his Norman campaign, and came to his
loyal Dieppe, his first care was to strengthen Arques with
artillery ; he threw up entrenchments to connect the castle with
the town, and he also fortified Le Pollet. Against his small
but tried army came the Duke of Mayenne with a force of
30,000 men about six times as large as his own which was
encamped over against Arques. Henri stood boldly on the
358 THE BATTLE OF ARQUES CHAP.
defensive, defeated an attack on Le Pollet, and day after day
drove the enemy back from Arques. Mayenne was puzzled
by the new science of war which Henri displayed, for the man
who was to make France into a nation was as cool and cunning
in strategy as he was reckless in personal courage. After many
skirmishes, the news that an English force of 5000 men was on
the sea and that reinforcements were coming to Henri from
Picardy and Champagne, determined Mayenne to seek a more
serious engagement, and the battle of Arques took place on
September 21, 1589. The fields which surround the hill where
the castle stands were then marshland, cut up by rivulets, so
that Mayenne could not use his superior numbers to any
advantage. But he was protected from the castle guns by a
mist, and for a moment an act of treachery seemed to have
given him the victory. Some of his troops approached the
trenches of Navarre, crying that they were Protestants and
wished to surrender to the king. No sooner were they admitted
than they fell upon the defenders, and threw the camp into
confusion. They even reached Henri himself and called to him
to surrender. But he cried out, " Are there not fifty gentlemen
in France who will die with their king?" His men rallied,
drove out the treacherous Ligueurs, and at this supreme moment
the mist cleared away, the gunners in the castle were able at
last to open fire upon the enemy below, and the battle was won.
Henri wrote that night his famous and characteristic note to
Crillon " Hang thyself, brave Crillon, we have fought at
Arques, and thou wast not there ! " Mayenne gave up the
campaign, and, falling into the sulks, was henceforward lost to
the Liguc. Henri IV., though still recognised by few under
that royal name, had won a signal victory in the tremendous
struggle for his throne. And Arques ? Well, Arques had heard
its last cannon, and the castle fell gradually into disrepair, till
in 1771 (before the Revolution, let Royalists remember), one
of the most magnificent monuments of France became an
authorised quarry.
xiv THE CASTLE WALLS 359
And now let us examine what is left of it ; for, little though
its ruins may appear to the casual wayfarer on the road below,
they are still of extreme interest.
There they stand, on the spur of a hill that was once sur-
rounded by marshes ; and as you walk on the outside of the
huge fosse, you can realise why the castle was impregnable till
artillery had grown out of its infancy. Four valleys meet
below, and those who tried to climb up the hill would
Argues Castle.
find, when they reached the ridge where you are walking, the
great unexpected ditch which Norman craft had cut between
the hill-side and the massive castle walls : impossible to sap the
walls that stand high on this chalk escarpment, impossible to
win them by escalade across so wide a chasm, even if they had
forced the palisade which once ran along the path where you
are walking. To make assurance doubly sure, tunnels run
under the walls by way of countermine, and you can see here
and there in the ditch the openings by which the defenders
could make a sortie if necessary. All this was dug out by
human labour ; at the south side, the one side on which the
spur is not isolated by nature, the fosse never less than eighty
feet across is enlarged; it is still impressive enough at this point,
but once it was over 150 feet in depth. There is a postern
here, protected by a tower, and commanded, like the plateau
beyond, by the keep ; the garrison could have escaped by
this postern, had they not preferred the subterranean passage
which was also provided only it never came to that.
Formidable as the walls are now, you can imagine how
360 THE KEEP CHAP.
menacing they were when the castle was intact, and the keep
higher by another story. And now you may complete the
circuit of the castle, and come back to the north, where is the
principal gateway. Here a genial guardian will open to you,
but you will be wise to supplement his descriptions by pur-
chasing from him the blue pamphlet, "Description et Histoire
du Chateau d' Arques" for it is by a master, Viollet-le-Duc. It
contains, too, a plan of the castle, and one of those fascinating
restorations which bring the old feudal life before us better
than any words can do.
I will therefore content myself, for the rest, with a few
generalities. The outer court which you enter first is not part
of the castle which Guillaume d'Arques built. It was added
at the end of the fifteenth century in order to protect the castle
from the hill opposite, which artillery had now made danger-
ously near : at the battle of Arques it proved extremely useful.
You next pass through the second gateway into the original
court ; on the higher ground at the further end stands the
keep, which is signalised by Viollet-le-Duc as the most perfect
type of a Norman donjon. After the Norman fashion, it is
square, and bisected by a strong partition wall. If the enemy
had made their way round the difficult passage of the postern
entrance, they would have found themselves in a labyrinth of
stairs and passages in the thickness of the wall, tunnels
obstructed by doors, and so narrow that two men could not
march abreast in them. The ground-floor, which was used as
a provision cellar, had no doorway, and could only be reached
through a trap-door in the first floor ; in addition to this cellar,
the keep had its oven, well, and mill. Although the first and
second stories are divided into two large rooms each by the
partition wall, the third story had no such division, so that, if
the assailants had managed to penetrate into one of the lower
rooms, the garrison would have climbed into the uppermost
story and besieged the besiegers.
The church of Arques is a very picturesque bit of Flam-
boyant work, which dates from 1500 onwards. At the west
ARQUES CHURCH
end of the |
south aisle I
p
you will no-
tice a curi-
ous round
window
with star-
like tracery.
As you en-
t e r by
the south
porch, the
low and
rathe r
broad aisles
will strike
you by their
contrast
with the
lofty tran-
septs and
c h o i r .
Above the
little pier
arches a
broad trail
runs under
the t w o-
light win-
d o w s of
the clere-
Ittterior of the Church, Argues.
story. There is a stone vault to the choir, but that work
stops at the rough barrels of tower and transepts. The screen
in this church has survived the change of fashion in the Roman
Church, to which so many jubes have been sacrificed, and is a
362 EU CHAP.
masterpiece of the Renaissance, with just a few traces of
Flamboyant ornament. The whole effect of the interior is
simple and clean, and its English appearance is heightened by
the two round-headed spaces in the Francois I. reredos.
A ride of about twenty-five miles from Dieppe brings one to
the northern boundary of Normandy at Eu, which is two miles
inland from the popular watering-place of Tre'port. Eu is
generally associated with Louis-Philippe, who was very fond of
the castle, and twice received Queen Victoria there ; but to
the historian it is more interesting as the place where William
the Conqueror received Harold, and where he married his
Flemish wife. The Chateau d'Ku, begun in 1578, is now to
all intents and purposes a modern building. The church, one
of the best in Normandy, belongs to the period about the year
1200, but its buttresses of unusual structure were added in the
fifteenth century, when a good many alterations and additions
were made.
One November day, in the year 1180, some shepherds, who
were tending their sheep on the hills near Eu, were accosted
by a stranger. He was old and very ill, and seemed to have
travelled far. "What is that house below?" he asked the
shepherds, and they told him that it belonged to the Canons
of St. Victor. " Here is the place where I shall rest for ever,"
said the old man, quoting from the Psalm, and hobbled down
the hill-side to the abbey gate, with the words still upon his
lips, " Haec rcquics inea in sacculmn seculi" The monks took
him in and tended him, and in a few days he died. No one
could have guessed that he was Laurence, Archbishop of
Dublin, and son of Maurice O'Tool (Murertach OTuathail,
if you prefer it), a prince of Leinster ; though all could see
that he was a saint. He had died a beggar, smiling when
they asked him if he had made his will and settled his worldly
affairs. "Thank Ood. I have not a penny in the world, and
cannot make a will \ " Hat pilgrims soon flocked to his tomb,
and the good canons found that he could have left them no
xiv THE END 363
gift more precious than his bones. From the alms that were
brought to the shrine of St. Laurence the noble church was
built that is still called by his name.
Thus Celtic Ireland has its link with Normandy through a
saint, just as Scotland has where St. Maclou is honoured at
Rouen. But it is in every part of the province that we see
how close is its connection with England and the Anglo-Saxon
race. That Normans once conquered Saxons, that afterwards
Normandy was brought under English rule these events, im-
portant though they be, are of small account compared with
the fact that Normans and English alike are sprung from a
common Teutonic stock. In this Northman's country we are
among kinsmen who are stamped with the family likeness,
albeit they have forgotten their father's speech. And not its
men and women only, but the churches and houses that they
built in the past nay, even the crops and the cattle from which
they still draw their livelihood, are liker to what is English than
to what is French. It is a country, too, that seems to suit the
Northern race : certainly its white cliffs and green meadows,
its hedgerows and orchards of cider apples prevent our ever
feeling very far from home ; and at every turn the names of its
towns remind us that, like England, it was conquered by Romans,
and finally colonised by Saxons and by Danes; though, indeed,
the Cauld Beck and the Fells are well hidden under Caudebec
and Falaise, and it may not be easy to trace Julia Bona in
Lillebonne, Constantia in Coutances, or Augusta in this old
border fortress of Eu.
INDEX
ABBESS, The Little, 222
Alengon, 2, 100
Almeneches, 109
Amboise, Georges de, 276
Andaine, forest of, 103
Andelys, 19, 20-42, 264
Ango, Jean, 343-5, 351, 353
Anselm, St., 214, 257-8
Ante, river, 84
Antoninus Pius, 319
Ardennes, Abbey of, 211
Arethusa and Alpheus, 270
Argentan, 95
Aristotle, the story of, 227
Arlette, 83, 85
Arques, 310, 355-362
Arques, battle of, 357-8
Arromanches, 191
Arthur de Cosse, Bishop, 178-181
Arthur, Prince, 84, 86
Aseelin, the burgher, 215
Aubert, St., 127-131
Avranches, 116, 129, 131, 164
B
BAGNOLES, 103
Baillehache, Jean de, 216
Bain, legend of, 129
Balleroy, Chateau, 191, 208
Balue, Cardinal, 159
Banville, 191
Barbes, 134, 149
Bardouville, 304
Basselin, Olivier, 119
Bayeux, 190-203
Bellesme, Robert of, 17
Beaumont-le- Roger, 60-5
Beaumontel, 65
Beaurepaire, M. Charles Robillard de, 297
Beauvoir, 123, 130
Bee, 67, 251, 254-261, 264
Becket, St. Thomas, 17, 95, 109, 166, 198
Berniy, 65
Bernieres, 22, 27, 42
Bernieres, (near Bayeux), 191
Bessin, 191, 203
Beza, 97
Bieville, 243
Biron, Marshal, 44
Blanche of Canille, 8, 16
Bliquetuit, 315
Bogis, 30
Bois-Rose, exploit of, 341
Boisne, funeral of, 229
Boos, 6
Boscherville, St. Georges, 302, 303-306,
326
Bouille, La, 264, 306
Bourg-Achard, 261
Bouteville, Comte de, 20
Br^aute, Mademoiselle de, 342
Brecy, 191
Breze, Louis de, 277
Brotonne, forest of, 315
CABIEU, the sergeant, 242
Cabourg, 244
Caen, 211-238, 310, 353
Cairon, 209
Cany, 341
Cancale, bay of, 127, 139, 171
Canteleu, 303
Cauchon, Bishop, 76, 296, 300
Caudebec, 249, 252, 264, 302, 303, 312-31
363
Caux, Pays de, 324, 331
Cecilia, Princess, 220
( 'hambres, Abbot Thomas des, 132
Chain '/> Sacre, 6
Charentonne, river, 65
Chateau-Gaillard, 7, 21-42
Chausey Islands, 127, 171
Charles VI., 270
Charles VII., 84, 300, 311, 348
Charles le Bel, 31
Charles le Mauvais, 50, 68
Chartrier, Alain, 191
Cherbourg, 2, 178
Church, Dean, 257
Chouannerie, The, 165
Clermont, Comte de, 259
Clotilde, St., 37-41
Clovis If., 308
Cochet, Abbe, 324
Colbert, 206
366
INDEX
Coligny, Admiral, 68, 84, 224, 351
Colombieres, 178-184
Conches, 55
Cook, Mr. Theodore A., 268, 291
Corneille, Pierre and Thomas, 265-6
Cotentin, 2, 178
Couesnon, river, 148
Coutances, 171-9, 363
Couture, La, 69-70
Creully, 203
Criqueboeuf, 245
Crusades, 6
D
DAGOBERT, King, 278
Dangu, 20
Davi, 272, 274
Deauville, 245
Delavigne, Casimir, 324, 327
Demoiselles of Etretat, 333-4
Dieppe, 6, 21, 343, 346, 347
Dinan, Alain de, 72
Dives, 244
Domfront, 103, 104-113, 116, 267
Douvres-la-Delivrande, 191
Dubourg, The Prisoner, 159
Duclair, 306
Duval, Etienne, 235
EBROIN, 308
Ecouche, 2, 100
Ecouis, 6
Edward III., 218
Edward the Confessor, 309
"nerves de Jumieges, 308, 311
Csquay-sur-Seulles, 203
Cstouteville, Cardinal,. 133
Istouteville, The Sires de, 341-
Ctrapagny, 6
Itretat, 33Q-334
Eu, 362-3
Evreux, 35, 46-55
t-xmes, ioo
FAI.AISE, 6, 83-9, 310, 363
" Eeast of Reason," 336
Fecamp, 334-341
rerte-Mace, 102
Fitz-Hamon, Robert, 204
Eormigny, Battle of, 120, 191
Eleury, 6
Fontaine-Henri, 207-9, 2 35
Eowke, Mr. E. Rede, 201
Foy, St., story of, 55, 58-9
Francois I., 290, 328, 343-4
KreTossc, 331, 333
Freeman, E A., 68, ioo, 337
GARGANTUA, 307, 323
Gargoyle, The, 227
Gassion, Marshal, 165
Gens d'Armes, Maison des, 240
Gislebert, Abbot, 214, 218
Gisors, 6-19
Gladran, feat of, 224
Gombard, 228
Goupigny, treason of, 156
Goujon, Jean, 276, ^82
Gout, M. Paul, 126. 149
Grand-Andely, 35-41
Grand-Couronne, 262
Granville, 167, 179
Graville, 305, 325-6
Grappin, The, 10, 12
Green, J. R., 257
Guesclin, du, 138
Guibray Fair, 89-95
Guillaume d'Arques, 356
Guillebert, Martin, 284
H
HADRIAN, 319
Hambye Abbey, 176
Hamon le Hardi, 204
Harcourt, Sire de, 323
Harfleur, 324
Harold, King, 175, 202
Havre, Le, 249, 327
Haye-du-Puits, 176
Helene, legend of, 130
Henri II., 37, 106, 277, 351 "
Henri IV., u, 32, 49, 62, 84, 85, 280, 314-
15, 357^8
Henry I, 17, 116, 119, 194, 204
Henry II, 6, 17, 95, 109, 166, 198, 265, 323
Henry V., 84, 227
Henry VI. , 227
Henry VIII., 290
He'rice, Ambroise and Rene le, 106
Herlwin, Abbot, 255
Heve, Cap de la, 331
Hildebert, Abbot, 151
Hippocrates, story of, 227
Honfleur, 24^-9, 302
Honorine, St., 326
Houlgate, 244
Hugo, Victor, 303
Huguenots, 106, 178-189, 216, 222, 235
Hundred Years' War, 43, 132, 218
Huynes, Dom, 136
ISABEY, 239, 335
I ton, river, 55
INDEX
367
EANNE d'Arc, 294-301
ohn, King, 27, 84, 86, 132
olivet, Abbot, 132, 133
oseph of Arimathea, 339
ourdain, Abbot, 132
oyeuse, Cardinal de, 134
umieges, 302, 307-312
KARR, ALPHONSE, 332
LACY, ROGER DE, 27, 31
Ladvenu, Martin, 298, 299
Lamps, Abbots Guillaume and Jean des,
Lanfranc, 212-3, 2 55~7
Lasson, Chateau, 209-210, 235
Laurence, St., 363
Le Forestier, 201
Le Prestre, Abel, 238
Le Roux, Jacques, 272
Le Roux, Roland, 272, 273, 276, 292, 294
Le Tellier de Tourneville, 288
Le Touchet's Stratagem, 161
Le Veneur, Bishops Ambroise and Gabriel,
48
Le Veneur, Cardinal, 133
Leger, St., 38
Lessay, 2, 178
Letellier, Cur of Pourville, 340
Lillebonne, 302, 318-320, 363
Limes, Cite de, 354-5
Lisieux, 67, 72-81, 85
Londe, La, forest of, 263
Longueville, Duchesse de, 346
Louis XL, 18, 50, 133, 159, 348-350
Louis XII., 276, 292
Louis XI 1 1 , 20
Louis le Hutin, 31
Louis-Philippe, 362
Louviers, 21, 35, 42-6
Lucerne Abbey, 167
M
MACLOU, ST. (ROUEN), 12, 97, 317, 36;
Maison-Brulee, 262-3
Mauger, Archbishop, 212
Manoir d'Ango, 6, 345-6
Manon Lescaut, The Author of, 258
Margantin, Mont, 104, 105, 115
Marguerite de Lorraine, 99
Mascaret, The, 141, 315
Massieu, Jean, 298
Matignon, 106-8, 182
Matilda, Queen, 202, 212, 220-2, 362
Maur, St., Reform of, 67, 134, 257
Mayenne, Due de, 357
Medicis, Catherine de, 106, 178
Medieval Warfare, 13-16, 27-31
Mellon, St., 268
Mesnil, Le, 343
Mesnil-sous-Jumieges, 307, 311
Mirat, Mont, 88
Mitouries de la Mi-Aoust, 350
Montfau^on, 200
Montgomery, Comte de, 106-8, 182
Montgomery, Sieur de, 156
Montmorency-Laval, Cardinal de, 134
Mont-Saint-Michel, 116, 123-4, 125, 163,
165, 179, 267, 315
Mortagne, 2, 100
Mortain, 113
Moulin, The du, 70
Moulineaux, 264
Moulineaux, battle of, 262-3
N
NAPOLEON, 230
Navaretto, 98
Neaufles, 15
Nicholas, St., and the Jew, 45
Nollent, Girard de, 240
Norman Folk, 73, 363
Norrey, 191
Nu-Pieds, revolt of, 164
Odo, Bishop, 194, 202
Orne Valley, 2, 100
Ouistreham, 241-3
PALUSTRE, Monsieur L, 96, 237, 291, 328
Parker, John H., 324
Puys, 354
Petit-Andely, 33-5
Petit-Couronne, 265
Petit-Quevilly, 265
Petrarch, Triumphs of, 238, 241, 291
Philippe Auguste, 6-8, 17, 21-31, 56, 84,
294, 357
Philippe le Bel, 31
Philippe le Long, 31
Philibert, St., 308
Pierre, Fr. Isambert de la, 299
Plantagenet, Geoffrey, 72
Pollet, Le, 347-9
Pommeraye, 283
Pont-Audemer, 251, 262
Pont-de-1'Arche, 6, 32
Pontaubault, 123
Pontifz, 271, 274
Pontorson, 123-4
Port-en-Bessin, 191
Poitiers, Diane de, 277
3 68
INDEX
Post el des Minieres, 288
Poulain, Nicholas, 18
Poulard, Monsieur and Madame, 135
Pourville, 346
Precious Blood, Legend of the, 338
Prussians, 262-4
QUESNEL, Nirhola?
Quettreville, 171
guillebueuf, 315
273
RAXES, ioi
Reveillon, the. 18
Revolution, the 99, 218, 335
Richard Coeur-de-Lion, 7, 21-2
Richelieu, 20, 165
Risle, river, 65. 2^1
Robert le Diable.'S}, 6, 325, 355
Robert le Diable, Castle of, 264
Robert of Jumieges, 309
Robida, Monsieur, 239
Rodney, Admiral, 242
Rosier cle Vctulis, 63
Rollo,_3i
Romain, St., and the Gargoyle, 37, 57,
2^7
Roses, legend of, 342
Rouen, 6. 2^7-301, 303
Roussel. fean, 285
Roy, Abbot Pierre le, 132
SAINT-CiERMF.R, 305
Saint-Gertrude, 315
Saint-Hilaire-du-Harcouet, 116, 123
Saint- lames. 7?3
Saint-La, iSi-g
Saint-Loup-Hors. 791, 278
Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. 82, 244
Saint -Sau veur-le-Vicomte, 1 78
Saint -Valery-en-Caux. 342
Saint-Wandrille, 302, 312, 379
Saussay-la-Yache, 20
Scissey. fm-est of, 127
Sees, 2, 700
Seine, river. <~\ 22, 120
Si-rqnignv. 6<$
SjfroRnes. 254
Sillans, Aiit(,iii'- d.>, 206
Shier. Hector. 210, 22^
Sorel, Agnes, 311
Sourdeval, Sieur de, 156
Sulpicius, 313
Taillevent, the cook, 251
Talbot, 86, 348
Talleyrand, 259
Talvas and his daughter, 110-2
Tancarville, 302, 320
Tancarville, Rabel de, 322
Tancarville, Raoul de, 304
Tancarville, Robert de, 323
Tapestry, Bayeux, 190, 200-2
Taurin, St., story of, 52-4
Tertre, du, 68
Thaon. 209
Theophilus and his pact, 37
Thiberville, 71
Tinchebray, 116
Tombelaine, 127, 133
Torigny, Abbot Robert de, 131
Totes, 6
Toutmouille, Frere Jehan, 298
Trappe, La, 2, 64
Trouville, 240, 245, 327
Tustin, Abbot, 132
VAL-F?-DUNES, Battle of, 204
Valmont, 341-2
Valognes, 2, 178
Vaucelles, 232
Vattetot. 334
Vaudeville, 119
Vaux, Les, 119
Veules, 342
Villequier, 315
Villers-sur-Mer, 244
Villerville. 245
Vincelli. Dom, 340
Viuliet-le-Duc, 276, 295, 360
\ ire, 116
WATE, Robert, 335
William the Conqueror, 83, 86, 130, 194,
202, 204, 211-216, 244, 268, 309, 319,
356- 7, 362
William Longsword, 308, 310
William Rufus, 6, 77
THK END
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Highways and byways in
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