NORMANDY:

THE SCENERY & ROMANCE OF ITS ANCIENT TOWNS:

DEPICTED BY GORDON HOME

PREFACE

This book is not a guide. It is an attempt to convey by pictures anddescription a clear impression of the Normandy which awaits the visitor. 

The route described could, however, be followed without covering the sameground for more than five or six miles, and anyone choosing to do thiswould find in his path some of the richest architecture and scenery thatthe province possesses. 

As a means of reviving memories of past visits to Normandy, I may perhapsventure to hope that the illustrations of this book--as far as thereproductions are successful--may not be ineffectual. 

GORDON HOME

EPSOM, _October_ 1905

CONTENTS

PREFACE

LIST OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS

LIST OF LINE ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER ISome Features of Normandy

CHAPTER IIBy the Banks of the Seine

CHAPTER IIIConcerning Rouen, the Ancient Capital of Normandy

CHAPTER IVConcerning the Cathedral City of Evreux and the Road to Bernay

CHAPTER VConcerning Lisieux and the Romantic Town of Falaise

CHAPTER VIFrom Argentan to Avranches

CHAPTER VIIConcerning Mont St Michel

CHAPTER VIIIConcerning Coutances and Some Parts of the Cotentin

CHAPTER IXConcerning St Lo and Bayeux

CHAPTER XConcerning Caen and the Coast Towards Trouville

CHAPTER XISome Notes on the History of Normandy

LIST OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS

MONT ST MICHEL FROM THE CAUSEWAY

ON THE ROAD BETWEEN CONCHES AND BEAUMONT-LE-ROGERThis is typical of the poplar-bordered roads of Normandy. 

THE CHATEAU GAILLARD FROM THE ROAD BY THE SEINEThe village of Le Petit Andely appears below the castle rock, and ispartly hidden by the island. The chalk cliffs on the left often looklike ruined walls. 

A TYPICAL REACH OF THE SEINE BETWEEN ROUEN AND LE PETIT ANDELYOn one side great chalk cliffs rise precipitously, and on theother are broad flat pastures. 

THE CHURCH AT GISORS, SEEN FROM THE WALLS OF THE NORMAN CASTLE

THE TOUR DE LA GROSSE HORLOGE, ROUENIt is the Belfry of the City, and was commenced in 1389. 

THE CATHEDRAL AT ROUENShowing a peep of the Portail de la Calende, and some of the quainthouses of the oldest part of the City. 

THE CATHEDRAL OF EVREUX SEEN FROM ABOVEOn the right, just where the light touches some of the roofs of thehouses, the fine old belfry can be seen. 

A TYPICAL FARMYARD SCENE IN NORMANDYThe curious little thatched mushroom above the cart is to be found inmost of the Norman farms. 

THE BRIDGE AT BEAUMONT-LE-ROGEROn the steep hill beyond stands the ruined abbey church. 

IN THE RUE AUX FEVRES, LISIEUXThe second tiled gable from the left belongs to the fine sixteenthcentury house called the Manoir de Francois I. 

THE CHURCH OF ST JACQUES AT LISIEUXOne of the quaint umber fronted houses for which the town is famousappears on the left. 

FALAISE CASTLEThe favourite stronghold of William the Conqueror. 

THE PORTE DES CORDELIERS AT FALAISEA thirteenth century gateway that overlooks the steep valley of the Ante. 

THE CHATEAU D'OA seventeenth century manor house surrounded by a wide moat. 

THE GREAT VIEW OVER THE FORESTS TO THE SOUTH FROM THE RAMPARTS OFDOMFRONT CASTLEDown below can be seen the river Varennes, and to the left of the railwaythe little Norman Church of Notre-Dame-sur-l'Eau. 

THE CLOCK GATE, VIRE

A VIEW OF MONT ST MICHEL AND THE BAY OF CANCALE FROM THE JARDIN DESPLANTES AT AVRANCHESOn the left is the low coast-line of Normandy, and on the right appearsthe islet of Tombelaine. 

DISTANT VIEW OF MONT ST MICHEL

THE LONG MAIN STREET OF COUTANCESIn the foreground is the Church of St Pierre, and in the distanceis the Cathedral. 

THE GREAT WESTERN TOWERS OF THE CHURCH OF NOTRE DAME AT ST LOThey are of different dates, and differ in the arcading and otherornament. 

THE NORMAN TOWERS OF BAYEUX CATHEDRAL

ST PIERRE, CAEN

OUISTREHAM

LIST OF LINE ILLUSTRATIONS

THE FORTIFIED FARM NEAR GISORS

A SEVENTEENTH CENTURY HOUSE AT ARGENTAN

THE OLD MARKET HOUSE AT ECOUCHE

ONE OF THE TOWERS IN THE WALLS OF DOMFRONT

THE CHËTELET AND LA MERVFILLE AT MONT ST MICHELThe dark opening through the archway on the left is the main entrance tothe Abbey. On the right can be seen the tall narrow windows that light thethree floors of Abbot Jourdain's great work. 

AN ANCIENT HOUSE IN THE RUE ST MALO, BAYEUX

THE GATEWAY OF THE CHATEAU

THE DISUSED CHURCH OF ST NICHOLAS AT CAEN

A COURTYARD IN THE RUE DE BAYEUX AT CAEN

CHAPTER I

Some Features of Normandy

Very large ants, magpies in every meadow, and coffee-cups without handles, but of great girth, are some of the objects that soon become familiar tostrangers who wander in that part of France which was at one time as muchpart of England as any of the counties of this island. The ants and thecoffee-cups certainly give one a sense of being in a foreign land, but whenone wanders through the fertile country among the thatched villages andfarms that so forcibly remind one of Devonshire, one feels a friendlinessin the landscapes that scarcely requires the stimulus of the kindlyattitude of the peasants towards _les anglais_. 

If one were to change the dark blue smock and the peculiar peaked hat ofthe country folk of Normandy for the less distinctive clothes of theEnglish peasant, in a very large number of cases the Frenchmen would passas English. The Norman farmer so often has features strongly typical of thesouthern counties of England, that it is surprising that with his wife andhis daughters there should be so little resemblance. Perhaps this isbecause the French women dress their hair in such a different manner tothose on the northern side of the Channel, and they certainly, taken as awhole, dress with better effect than their English neighbours; or it may bethat the similar ideas prevailing among the men as to how much of the faceshould be shaved have given the stronger sex an artificial resemblance. 

In the towns there is little to suggest in any degree that the mediaevalkings of England ruled this large portion of France, and at Mont St Michelthe only English objects besides the ebb and flow of tourists are the twogreat iron _michelettes_ captured by the French in 1433. Everyone who comesto the wonderful rock is informed that these two guns are English; but asthey have been there for nearly five hundred years, no one feels much shameat seeing them in captivity, and only a very highly specialised antiquarywould be able to recognise any British features in them. Everyone, however, who visits Normandy from England with any enthusiasm, is familiar with theessential features of Norman and early pointed architecture, and it is thuswith distinct pleasure that the churches are often found to be strikinglysimilar to some of the finest examples of the earlier periods in England. 

When we remember that the Norman masons and master-builders had beenimproving the crude Saxon architecture in England even before the Conquest, and that, during the reigns of the Norman kings, "Frenchmen, " as the Saxonscalled them, were working on churches and castles in every part of ourisland, it is no matter for surprise to find that buildings belonging tothe eleventh, twelfth, and even the thirteenth century, besides being ofsimilar general design, are often covered with precisely the same patternsof ornament. When the period of Decorated Gothic began to prevail towardsthe end of the thirteenth century, the styles on each side of the Channelgradually diverged, so that after that time the English periods do notagree with those of Normandy. There is also, even in the churches that mostresemble English structures, a strangeness that assails one unlessfamiliarity has taken the edge off one's perceptions. Though not the casewith all the fine churches and cathedrals of Normandy, yet with anunpleasantly large proportion--unfortunately including the magnificentChurch of St Ouen at Rouen--there is beyond the gaudy tinsel that crowdsthe altars, an untidiness that detracts from the sense of reverence thatstately Norman or Gothic does not fail to inspire. In the north transept ofSt Ouen, some of the walls and pillars have at various times been made tobear large printed notices which have been pasted down, and when out ofdate they have been only roughly torn off, leaving fragments that soonbecome discoloured and seriously mar the dignified antiquity of thestone-work. But beyond this, one finds that the great black stands forcandles that burn beside the altars are generally streaked with the waxthat has guttered from a dozen flames, and that even the floor is coveredwith lumps of wax--the countless stains of only partially scraped-upgutterings of past offerings. There is also that peculiarly unpleasantsmell so often given out by the burning wax that greets one on entering thecool twilight of the building. The worn and tattered appearance of therush-seated chairs in the churches is easily explained when one sees thealmost constant use to which they are put. In the morning, or even as lateas six in the evening, one finds classes of boys or girls being catechisedand instructed by priests and nuns. The visitor on pushing open the swingdoor of an entrance will frequently be met by a monotonous voice thatechoes through the apparently empty church. As he slowly takes his wayalong an aisle, the voice will cease, and suddenly break out in a simplebut loudly sung Gregorian air, soon joined by a score or more of childishvoices; then, as the stranger comes abreast of a side chapel, he causes agrave distraction among the rows of round, closely cropped heads. Therather nasal voice from the sallow figure in the cassock rises higher, andas the echoing footsteps of the person who does nothing but stare about himbecome more and more distant, the sing-song tune grows in volume once more, and the rows of little French boys are again in the way of becoming goodCatholics. In another side chapel the confessional box bears a large whitecard on which is printed in bold letters, "M. Le Cure. " He is on duty atthe present time, for, from behind the curtained lattices, the strangerhears a soft mumble of words, and he is constrained to move silentlytowards the patch of blazing whiteness that betokens the free air andsunshine without. The cheerful clatter of the traffic on the cobbles istypical of all the towns of Normandy, as it is of the whole republic, butCaen has reduced this form of noise by exchanging its omnibuses, thatalways suggested trams that had left the rails, for swift electric tramsthat only disturb the streets by their gongs. In Rouen, the electric cars, which the Britisher rejoices to discover were made in England--the driverbeing obliged to read the positions of his levers in English--are a hugeboon to everyone who goes sight-seeing in that city. Being swept along in asmoothly running car is certainly preferable to jolting one's way over theuneven paving on a bicycle, but it is only in the largest towns that onehas such a choice. 

Although the only road that is depicted in this book is as straight as anybuilt by the Romans and is bordered by poplars, it is only one type of thegreat _routes nationales_ that connect the larger towns. In the hilly partsof Normandy the poplar bordered roads entirely disappear, and howeverstraight the engineers may have tried to make their ways, they have beenforced to give them a zig-zag on the steep slopes that breaks up themonotony of the great perspectives so often to be seen stretching away forgreat distances in front and behind. It must not be imagined that Normandyis without the usual winding country road where every bend has beyond itsome possibilities in the way of fresh views. An examination of a good roadmap of the country will show that although the straight roads are numerous, there are others that wind and twist almost as much as the average Englishturnpike. As a rule, the _route nationale_ is about the same width as mostmain roads, but it has on either side an equal space of grass. This isfrequently scraped off by the cantoniers, and the grass is placed in greatpiles ready for removal. When these have been cleared away the thoroughfareis of enormous width, and in case of need, regiments could march in thecentre with artillery on one side, and a supply train on the other, withoutimpeding one another. 

Level crossings for railways are more frequent than bridges. The gates aregenerally controlled by women in the family sort of fashion that one seesat the lodge of an English park where a right-of-way exists, and yetaccidents do not seem to happen. 

The railways of Normandy are those of the Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest, and onesoon becomes familiar with the very low platforms of the stations that areraised scarcely above the rails. The porters wear blue smocks and trousersof the same material, secured at the waist by a belt of perpendicular redand black stripes. The railway carriages have always two foot-boards, andthe doors besides the usual handles have a second one half-way down thepanels presumably for additional security. It is really in the nature of abolt that turns on a pivot and falls into a bracket. On the doors, theclass of the carriages is always marked in heavy Roman numerals. Thethird-class compartments have windows only in the doors, are innocent ofany form of cushions and are generally only divided half-way up. The secondand first-class compartments are always much better and will bearcomparison with those of the best English railways, whereas the usualthird-class compartment is of that primitive type abandoned twenty or moreyears ago, north of the Channel. The locomotives are usually dirty andblack with outside cylinders, and great drum-shaped steam-domes. They seemto do the work that is required of them efficiently, although if one istravelling in a third-class compartment the top speed seems extraordinarilyslow. The railway officials handle bicycles with wonderful care, and thisis perhaps remarkable when we realize that French railways carry them anydistance simply charging a penny for registration. 

The hotels of Normandy are not what they were twenty years ago. Improvements in sanitation have brought about most welcome changes, so thatone can enter the courtyard of most hotels without being met by theaggressive odours that formerly jostled one another for space. When yourealize the very large number of English folk who annually pass from townto town in Normandy it may perhaps be wondered why the proprietors ofhotels do not take the trouble to prepare a room that will answer to thedrawing-room of an English hotel. After dinner in France, a lady hasabsolutely no choice between a possible seat in the courtyard and herbedroom, for the estaminet generally contains a group of noisy Frenchmen, and even if it is vacant the room partakes too much of the character of abar-parlour to be suitable for ladies. Except in the large hotels in RouenI have only found one which boasts of any sort of room besides theestaminet; it was the Hotel des Trois Marie at Argentan. When this defecthas been remedied, I can imagine that English people will tour in Normandymore than they do even at the present time. The small washing basin and jugthat apologetically appears upon the bedroom washstand has still an almostuniversal sway, and it is not sufficiently odd to excuse itself on thescore of picturesqueness. Under that heading come the tiled floors in thebedrooms, the square and mountainous eiderdowns that recline upon the beds, and the matches that take several seconds to ignite and leave a sulphurousodour that does not dissipate itself for several minutes. 

CHAPTER II

By the Banks of the Seine

If you come to Normandy from Southampton, France is entered at the mouth ofthe Seine and you are at once introduced to some of the loveliest scenerythat Normandy possesses. The headland outside Havre is composed of ochreishrock which appears in patches where the grass will not grow. The heightsare occupied by no less than three lighthouses only one of which is now inuse. As the ship gets closer, a great spire appears round the cliff in thesilvery shimmer of the morning haze and then a thousand roofs reflect thesunlight. 

There are boats from Havre that take passengers up the winding river toRouen and in this way much of the beautiful scenery may be enjoyed. By thismeans, however, the country appears as only a series of changing picturesand to see anything of the detail of such charming places as Caudebec, andLillebonne, or the architectural features of Tancarville Castle and theAbbey of Jumieges, the road must be followed instead of the more leisurelyriver. 

Havre with its great docks, its busy streets, and fast electric tramcarsthat frighten away foot passengers with noisy motor horns does not compel avery long stay, although one may chance to find much interest among theshipping, when such vessels as Mr Vanderbilt's magnificent steam yacht, without a mark on its spotless paint, is lying in one of the inner basins. If you wander up and down some of the old streets by the harbour you willfind more than one many-storied house with shutters brightly painted, anddormers on its ancient roof. The church of Notre Dame in the Rue de Parishas a tower that was in earlier times a beacon, and it was here that threebrothers named Raoulin who had been murdered by the governor Villars in1599, are buried. 

On the opposite side of the estuary of the Seine, lies Honfleur with itsextraordinary church tower that stands in the market-place quite detachedfrom the church of St Catherine to which it belongs. It is entirelyconstructed of timber and has great struts supporting the angles of itswalls. The houses along the quay have a most paintable appearance, theiroverhanging floors and innumerable windows forming a picturesque backgroundto the fishing-boats. 

Harfleur, on the same side of the river as Havre, is on the road toTancarville. We pass through it on our way to Caudebec. The great spire ofthe church, dating from the fifteenth century, rears itself above thisancient port where the black-sailed ships of the Northmen often appeared inthe early days before Rollo had forced Charles the Simple (he should havebeen called "The Straightforward") to grant him the great tract of Frenchterritory that we are now about to explore. 

The Seine, winding beneath bold cliffs on one side and along the edge offlat, rich meadowlands on the other, comes near the magnificent ruin ofTancarville Castle whose walls enclose an eighteenth century chateau. Thesituation on an isolated chalk cliff one hundred feet high was moreformidable a century ago than it is to-day, for then the Seine ran closebeneath the forbidding walls, while now it has changed its course somewhat. The entrance to the castle is approached under the shadow of the greatcircular corner tower that stands out so boldly at one extremity of thebuildings, and the gate house has on either side semi-circular towersfifty-two feet in height. Above the archway there are three floorssparingly lighted by very small windows, one to each storey. They point outthe first floor as containing the torture chamber, and in the towersadjoining are the hopelessly strong prisons. The iron bars are still in thewindows and in one instance the positions of the rings to which theprisoners were chained are still visible. 

There are still floors in the Eagle's tower that forms the boldest portionof the castle, and it is a curious feature that the building is angularinside although perfectly cylindrical on the exterior. Near the chateau youmay see the ruined chapel and the remains of the Salle des Chevaliers withits big fireplace. Then higher than the entrance towers is the TourCoquesart built in the fifteenth century and having four storeys with afireplace in each. The keep is near this, but outside the present castleand separated from it by a moat. The earliest parts of the castle allbelong to the eleventh century, but so much destruction was wrought byHenry V. In 1417 that the greater part of the ruins belong to a few yearsafter that date. The name of Tancarville had found a place among the greatfamilies of England before the last of the members of this distinguishedFrench name lost his life at the battle of Agincourt. The heiress of thefamily married one of the Harcourts and eventually the possessions cameinto the hands of Dunois the Bastard of Orleans. 

From Tancarville there is a road that brings you down to that which runsfrom Quilleboeuf, and by it one is soon brought to the picturesquelysituated little town of Lillebonne, famous for its Roman theatre. It wasthe capital of the Caletes and was known as Juliabona, being mentioned inthe iters of Antoninus. The theatre is so well known that no one hasdifficulty in finding it, and compared to most of the Roman remains inEngland, it is well worth seeing. The place held no fewer than threethousand people upon the semi-circular tiers of seats that are now coveredwith turf. Years ago, there was much stone-work to be seen, but this haslargely disappeared, and it is only in the upper portions that many tracesof mason's work are visible. A passage runs round the upper part of thetheatre and the walls are composed of narrow stones that are not muchlarger than bricks. 

The great castle was built by William the Norman, and it was here that hegathered together his barons to mature and work out his project which madehim afterwards William the Conqueror. It will be natural to associate thefine round tower of the castle with this historic conference, butunfortunately, it was only built in the fourteenth century. From more thanone point of view Lillebonne makes beautiful pictures, its roofs dominatedby the great tower of the parish church as well as by the ruins of thecastle. 

We have lost sight of the Seine since we left Tancarville, but a ten-milerun brings us to the summit of a hill overlooking Caudebec and a greatsweep of the beautiful river. The church raises its picturesque outlineagainst the rolling white clouds, and forms a picture that compelsadmiration. On descending into the town, the antiquity and the quaintnessof sixteenth century houses greet you frequently, and you do not wonderthat Caudebec has attracted so many painters. There is a wide quay, shadedby an avenue of beautiful trees, and there are views across the broad, shining waters of the Seine, which here as in most of its length attractsus by its breadth. The beautiful chalk hills drop steeply down to thewater's edge on the northern shores in striking contrast to the flatness ofthe opposite banks. On the side of the river facing Caudebec, the peninsulaenclosed by the windings of the Seine includes the great forest ofBrotonne, and all around the town, the steep hills that tumblepicturesquely on every side, are richly clothed with woods, so that withits architectural delights within, and its setting of forest, river andhill, Caudebec well deserves the name it has won for itself in England aswell as in France. 

Just off the road to Rouen from Caudebec and scarcely two miles away, is StWandrille, situated in a charming hollow watered by the Fontanelle, ahumble tributary of the great river. In those beautiful surroundings standthe ruins of the abbey church, almost entirely dating from the thirteenthcentury. Much destruction was done during the Revolution, but there isenough of the south transept and nave still in existence to show what thecomplete building must have been. In the wonderfully preserved cloisterwhich is the gem of St Wandrille, there are some beautiful details in thedoorway leading from the church, and there is much interest in therefectory and chapter house. 

Down in the piece of country included in a long and narrow loop of theriver stand the splendid ruins of the abbey of Jumieges with its threetowers that stand out so conspicuously over the richly wooded country. Whenyou get to the village and are close to the ruins of the great Benedictineabbey, you are not surprised that it was at one time numbered amongst therichest and most notable of the monastic foundations. The founder was StPhilibert, but whatever the buildings which made their appearance in theseventh century may have been, is completely beyond our knowledge, forJumieges was situated too close to the Seine to be overlooked by theharrying ship-loads of pirates from the north, who in the year 851demolished everything. William Longue-Epee, son of Rollo the great leaderof these Northmen, curiously enough commenced the rebuilding of the abbey, and it was completed in the year of the English conquest. Nearly the wholeof the nave and towers present a splendid example of early Normanarchitecture, and it is much more inspiring to look upon the fine westfront of this ruin than that of St Etienne at Caen which has an aspect sodull and uninspiring. The great round arches of the nave are supported bypillars which have the early type of capital distinguishing eleventhcentury work. The little chapel of St Pierre adjoining the abbey church isparticularly interesting on account of the western portion which includessome of that early work built in the first half of the tenth century byWilliam Longue-Epee. The tombstone of Nicholas Lerour, the abbot who wasamong the judges by whom the saintly Joan of Arc was condemned to death, isto be seen with others in the house which now serves as a museum. Associated with the same tragedy is another tombstone, that of Agnes Sorel, the mistress of Charles VII. , that heartless king who made no effort tosave the girl who had given him his throne. 

Jumieges continued to be a perfectly preserved abbey occupied by its monksand hundreds of persons associated with them until scarcely more than acentury ago. It was then allowed to go to complete ruin, and norestrictions seem to have been placed upon the people of the neighbourhoodwho as is usual under such circumstances, used the splendid buildings as astorehouse of ready dressed stone. 

Making our way back to the highway, we pass through beautiful scenery, andonce more reach the banks of the Seine at the town of Duclair which standsbelow the escarpment of chalk hills. There are wharves by the river-sidewhich give the place a thriving aspect, for a considerable export trade iscarried on in dairy produce. 

After following the river-side for a time, the road begins to cut acrossthe neck of land between two bends of the Seine. It climbs up towards theforest of Roumare and passes fairly close to the village of St Martin deBoscherville where the church of St George stands out conspicuously on itshillside. This splendid Norman building is the church of the Abbey built inthe middle of the eleventh century by Raoul de Tancarville who wasWilliam's Chamberlain at the time of the conquest of England. The abbeybuildings are now in ruins but the church has remained almost untouchedduring the eight centuries and more which have passed during which Normandywas often bathed in blood, and when towns and castles were sacked two orthree times over. When the forest of Roumare, has been left behind, youcome to Canteleu, a little village that stands at the top of a steep hill, commanding a huge view over Rouen, the historic capital of Normandy. Youcan see the shipping lying in the river, the factories, the spire of thecathedral, and the many church towers as well as the light framework of themodern moving bridge. This is the present day representative of thefantastic mediaeval city that witnessed the tragedy of Joan of Arc's trialand martyrdom. We will pass Rouen now, returning to it again in the nextchapter. 

The river for some distance becomes frequently punctuated with islands. Large extents of forest including those of Rouvray, Bonde and Elbeuf, spread themselves over the high ground to the west. The view from aboveElbeuf in spite of its many tall chimney shafts includes such a finestretch of fertile country that the scene is not easily forgotten. 

Following the windings of the river through Pont-de-L'Arche and the forestof Louviers we come to that pleasant old town; but although close to theSeine, it stands on the little river Eure. Louviers remains in the memoryas a town whose church is more crowded with elaborately carved stone-workthan any outside Rouen. There is something rather odd, in the closejuxtaposition of the Hotel Mouton d'Argent with its smooth plastered frontand the almost overpowering mass of detail that faces it on the other sideof the road. There is something curious, too, in the severe plainness ofthe tower that almost suggests the unnecessarily shabby clothing worn bysome men whose wives are always to be seen in the most elaborate and costlygowns. Internally the church shows its twelfth century origin, but all theintricate stone-work outside belongs to the fifteenth century. The porchwhich is, if possible, richer than the buttresses of the aisles, belongs tothe flamboyant period, and actually dates from the year 1496. In theclerestory there is much sixteenth century glass and the aisles which arelow and double give a rather unusual appearance. 

The town contains several quaint and ancient houses, one of them supportedby wooden posts projects over the pavement, another at the corner of theMarche des Oeufs has a very rich though battered piece of carved oak at theangle of the walls. It seems as if it had caught the infection of theextraordinary detail of the church porch. Down by the river there are manytimber-framed houses with their foundations touching the water, with narrowwooden bridges crossing to the warehouses that line the other side. ThePlace de Rouen has a shady avenue of limes leading straight down to a greathouse in a garden beyond which rise wooded hills. Towards the river runsanother avenue of limes trimmed squarely on top. These are pleasantfeatures of so many French towns that make up for some of the deficienciesin other matters. 

We could stay at Louviers for some time without exhausting all itsattractions, but ten miles away at the extremity of another deep loop ofthe Seine there stands the great and historic Chateau-Gaillard that towersabove Le Petit-Andely, the pretty village standing invitingly by a cleft inthe hills. The road we traverse is that which appears so conspicuously inTurner's great painting of the Chateau-Gaillard. It crosses the bridgeclose under the towering chalk cliffs where the ruin stands so boldly. There is a road that follows the right bank of the river close to therailway, and it is from there that one of the strangest views of the castleis to be obtained. You may see it thrown up by a blaze of sunlight againstthe grassy heights behind that are all dark beneath the shadow of a cloud. The stone of the towers and heavily buttressed walls appears almost aswhite as the chalk which crops out in the form of cliffs along theriver-side. An island crowded with willows that overhang the waterpartially hides the village of Le Petit-Andely, and close at hand above thesteep slopes of grass that rise from the roadway tower great masses ofgleaming white chalk projecting from the vivid turf as though they were theworn ruins of other castles. The whiteness is only broken by the horizontallines of flints and the blue-grey shadows that fill the crevices. 

From the hill above the Chateau there is another and even more strikingview. It is the one that appears in Turner's picture just mentioned, andgives one some idea of the magnificent position that Richard Coeur de Lionchose, when in 1197 he decided to build an impregnable fortress on thisbend of the Seine. It was soon after his return from captivity whichfollowed the disastrous crusade that Richard commenced to show PhilippeAuguste that he was determined to hold his French possessions with hiswhole strength. Philippe had warned John when the news of the release ofthe lion-hearted king from captivity had become known, that "the devil wasunchained, " and the building of this castle showed that Richard was makingthe most of his opportunities. The French king was, with somejustification, furious with his neighbour, for Richard had recently givenhis word not to fortify this place, and some fierce fighting would haveensued on top of the threats which the monarchs exchanged, but for thedeath of the English king in 1199. When John assumed the crown of England, however, Philippe soon found cause to quarrel with him, and thus the greatsiege of the castle was only postponed for three or four years. The Frenchking brought his army across the peninsula formed by the Seine, and havingsucceeded in destroying the bridge beneath the castle, he constructed onefor himself with boats and soon afterwards managed to capture the island, despite its strong fortifications. The leader of the English garrison wasthe courageous Roger de Lacy, Constable of Chester. From his knowledge ofthe character of his new king, de Lacy would have expected littleassistance from the outside and would have relied upon his own resources todefend Richard's masterpiece. John made one attempt to succour thegarrison. He brought his army across the level country and essayed todestroy the bridge of boats constructed by the French. This one effortproving unsuccessful he took no other measures to distract the besiegingarmy, and left Roger de Lacy to the undivided attention of the Frenchmen. Then followed a terrible struggle. The French king succeeded in drawing hislines closer to the castle itself and eventually obtained possession of theouter fortifications and the village of Le Petit-Andely, from which theinhabitants fled to the protection of the castle. The governor had no wishto have all his supplies consumed by non-combatants, and soon compelledthese defenceless folk to go out of the protection of his huge walls. Atfirst the besiegers seemed to have allowed the people to pass unmolested, but probably realizing the embarrassment they would have been to thegarrison, they altered their minds, and drove most of them back to thecastle. Here they gained a reception almost as hostile as that of theenemy, and after being shot down by the arrows of the French they remainedfor days in a starving condition in a hollow between the hostile lines. Here they would all have died of hunger, but Philippe at last took pity onthe terrible plight of these defenceless women and children and old folks, and having allowed them a small supply of provisions they were at lastreleased from their ghastly position. Such a tragedy as this lends terriblepathos to the grassy steeps and hollows surrounding the chateau and one mayalmost be astonished that such callousness could have existed in these daysof chivalry. 

The siege was continued with rigour and a most strenuous attack was madeupon the end of the castle that adjoined the high ground that overlooksthe ruins. With magnificent courage the Frenchmen succeeded in miningthe walls, and having rushed into the breach they soon made themselvesmasters of the outer courtyard. Continuing the assault, a small partyof intrepid soldiers gained a foothold within the next series offortifications, causing the English to retreat to the inner courtyarddominated by the enormous keep. Despite the magnificent resistanceoffered by de Lacy's men the besiegers raised their engines in front ofthe gate, and when at last they had forced an entry they contrived afeat that almost seems incredible--they cut off the garrison from theirretreat to the keep. Thus this most famous of castles fell within halfa dozen years of its completion. 

In the hundred years' war the Chateau-Gaillard was naturally one of thecentres of the fiercest fighting, and the pages of history are full ofreferences to the sieges and captures of the fortress, proving how evenwith the most primitive weapons these ponderous and unscalable walls werenot as impregnable as they may have seemed to the builders. Like the abbeyof Jumieges, this proud structure became nothing more than a quarry, for inthe seventeenth century permission was given to two religious houses, oneat Le Petit-Andely and the other at Le Grand-Andely to take whateverstone-work they required for their monastic establishments. Records showhow more damage would have been done to the castle but for the frequentquarrels between these two religious houses as to their rights over thevarious parts of the ruins. When you climb up to the ruined citadel andlook out of the windows that are now battered and shapeless, you can easilyfeel how the heart of the bold Richard must have swelled within him when hesaw how his castle dominated an enormous belt of country. But you cannothelp wondering whether he ever had misgivings over the unwelcome proximityof the chalky heights that rise so closely above the site of the ruin. Weourselves, are inclined to forget these questions of military strength inthe serene beauty of the silvery river flowing on its serpentine coursepast groups of poplars, rich pastures dotted with cattle, forest lands andvillages set amidst blossoming orchards. Down below are the warmchocolate-red roofs of the little town that has shared with the chateau itsgood and evil fortunes. The church with its slender spire occupies thecentral position, and it dates from precisely the same years as those whichwitnessed the advent of the fortress above. The little streets of the townare full of quaint timber-framed houses, and it is not surprising that thisis one of the spots by the beautiful banks of the Seine that has attained aname for its picturesqueness. 

With scarcely any perceptible division Le Grand-Andely joins the smallervillage. It stands higher in the valley and is chiefly memorable for itsbeautiful inn, the Hotel du Grand Cerf. It is opposite the richlyornamented stone-work of the church of Notre Dame and dates chiefly fromthe sixteenth century. The hall contains a great fireplace, richlyornamented with a renaissance frieze and a fine iron stove-back. Thecourtyard shows carved timbers and in front the elaborate moulding beneaththe eaves is supported by carved brackets. Unlike that old hostelry atDives which is mentioned in another chapter, this hotel is not overrestored, although in the days of a past proprietor the house contained agreat number of antiques and its fame attracted many distinguishedvisitors, including Sir Walter Scott and Victor Hugo. 

In writing of the hotel I am likely to forget the splendid painted glass inthe church, but details of the stories told in these beautiful works of thesixteenth century are given in all good guides. 

There is a pleasant valley behind Les Andelys running up towards the greatplateau that occupies such an enormous area of this portion of Normandy. The scenery as you go along the first part of the valley, through thelittle village of Harquency with its tiny Norman church, and cottages withthatched roofs all velvety with moss, is very charming. The country isentirely hedge-less, but as you look down upon the rather thirsty-lookingvalley below the road, the scenery savours much of Kent; the chalky fields, wooded uplands and big, picturesque farms suggesting some of theagricultural districts of the English county. When we join the broad andstraight national road running towards Gisors we have reached the tablelandjust mentioned. There are perhaps, here and there, a group of stately elms, breaking the broad sweep of arable land that extends with no moreundulations for many leagues than those of a sheet of old-fashioned glass. The horizon is formed by simply the same broad fields, vanishing in a thin, blue line over the rim of the earth. 

[Illustration: THE FORTIFIED FARM NEAR GISORS]

At Les Thilliers, a small hamlet that, owing to situation at cross-roadsfigures conspicuously upon the milestones of the neighbourhood, the road toGisors goes towards the east, and after crossing the valley of the Epte, you run down an easy gradient, passing a fine fortified farm-house withcircular towers at each corner of its four sides and in a few minutes haveturned into the historic old town of Gisors. It is as picturesque as anyplace in Normandy with the exception of Mont St Michel. The river Eptegliding slowly through its little canals at the sides of some of thestreets, forms innumerable pictures when reflecting the quaint houses andgardens whose walls are generally grown over with creepers. Near the ascentto the castle is one of the washing places where the women let their soapsuds float away on the translucent water as they scrub vigorously. Theykneel upon a long wooden platform sheltered by a charming old roofsupported upon a heavy timber framework that is a picture in itself. 

If you stay at the Hotel de l'Ecu de France you are quite close to thecastle that towers upon its hill right in the middle of the town. Mostpeople who come to Gisors are surprised to find how historic is its castle, and how many have been the conflicts that have taken place around it. Theposition between Rouen and Paris and on the frontier of the Duchy gave itan importance in the days of the Norman kings that led to the erection of amost formidable stronghold. In the eleventh century, when William Rufus wason the throne of England, he made the place much stronger. Both Henry I. And Henry II. Added to its fortifications so that Gisors became in time asformidable a castle as the Chateau Gaillard. During the Hundred Years' War, Gisors, which is often spoken of as the key to Normandy, after fiercestruggles had become French. Then again, a determined assault would leavethe flag of England fluttering upon its ramparts until again the Frenchmenwould contrive to make themselves masters of the place. And so theseconstant changes of ownership went on until at last about the year 1450, adate which we shall find associated with the fall of every Englishstronghold in Normandy, Gisors surrendered to Charles VII. And has remainedFrench ever since. 

The outer baileys are defended by some great towers of massive Normanmasonry from which you look all over the town and surrounding country. Butwithin the inner courtyard rises a great mound dominated by the keep whichyou may still climb by a solid stone staircase. From here the view is verymuch finer than from the other towers and its commanding position wouldseem to give the defenders splendid opportunities for tiring out anybesieging force. The concierge of the castle, a genial old woman ofgipsy-like appearance takes you down to the fearful dungeon beneath one ofthe great towers on the eastern side, known as the Tour des Prisonniers. Here you may see the carvings in the stone-work executed by some of theprisoners who had been cast into this black abyss. These carvings includerepresentations of crucifixes, St Christopher, and many excellentlyconceived and patiently wrought figures of other saints. 

We have already had a fine view of the splendid Renaissance exterior of thechurch which is dedicated to the Saints Gervais and Protais. The choir isthe earliest part of the building. It belongs to the thirteenth century, while the nave and most of the remaining portions date from the fifteenthor sixteenth century. It is a building of intense architectural interestand to some extent rivals the castle in the attention it deserves. 

CHAPTER III

Concerning Rouen, the Ancient Capital of Normandy

When whole volumes have been written on Rouen it would be idle to attempteven a fragment of its history in a book of this nature. But all who go toRouen should know something of its story in order to be able to make themost of the antiquities that the great city still retains. How much wewould give to have an opportunity for seeing the Rouen which has vanished, for to-day as we walk along the modern streets there is often nothing toremind us of the centuries crowded with momentous events that have takenplace where now the electric cars sweep to and fro and do their best tomake one forget the Rouen of mediaeval times. 

Of course, no one goes to the city expecting to find ancient walls andtowers, or a really strong flavour of the middle ages, any more than oneexpects to obtain such impressions in the city of London. Rouen, however, contains sufficient relics of its past to convey a powerful impression uponthe minds of all who have strong imaginations. There is the cathedral whichcontains the work of many centuries; there is the beautiful and inspiringchurch of St Ouen; there is the archway of the Grosse Horloge; there is thecrypt of the church of St Gervais, that dates from the dim fifth century;and there are still in the narrow streets between the cathedral and thequays along the river-side, many tall, overhanging houses, whose ageappears in the sloping wall surfaces and in the ancient timbers that showthemselves under the eaves and between the plaster-work. 

Two of the most attractive views in Rouen are illustrated here. One of themshows the Portail de la Calende of the cathedral appearing at the end of anarrow street of antique, gabled houses, while overhead towers thestupendous fleche that forms the most prominent feature of Rouen. The otheris the Grosse Horloge and if there had been space for a third it would haveshown something of the interior of the church of St Ouen. The view of thecity from the hill of Bon Secours forms another imposing feature, but Ithink that it hardly equals what we have already seen on the road fromCaudebec. 

When you come out of the railway station known as the _Rive Droite_ a shortstreet leads up to one of the most important thoroughfares, the Rue Jeanned'Arc. It is perfectly straight and contains nothing in it that is notperfectly modern, but at the highest point you may see a marble tabletaffixed to a wall. It bears a representation in the form of a gildedoutline of the castle towers as they stood in the time of the Maid ofOrleans, and a short distance behind this wall, but approached from anotherstreet, there still remains the keep of Rouen's historic castle. Thecircular tower contains the room which you may see to-day where Joan wasbrought before her judges and the instruments of torture by which thesaintly maiden was to be frightened into giving careless answers to thequestions with which she was plied by her clever judges. This stone vaultedroom, although restored, is of thrilling interest to those who have studiedthe history of Joan of Arc, for, as we are told by Mr Theodore Cook in his"Story of Rouen, " these are the only walls which are known to have echoedwith her voice. 

Those who have made a careful study of the ancient houses in the olderstreets of Rouen have been successful in tracing other buildings associatedwith the period of Joan of Arc's trial. The Rue St Romain, that narrow andnot very salubrious thoroughfare that runs between the Rue de la Republiqueand the west front of the cathedral, has still some of the old canons'lodgings where some of the men who judged Joan of Arc actually lived. Amongthem, was Canon Guillaume le Desert who outlived all his fellow judges. There is still to be seen the house where lived the architect who designedthe palace for Henry V. Near Mal s'y Frotte. Mr Cook mentions that he hasdiscovered a record which states that the iron cage in which Joan of Arcwas chained by her hands, feet and neck was seen by a workman in this veryhouse. 

In the quaint and narrow streets that are still existing near the Rue StRomain, many strange-looking houses have survived to the present day. Theystand on the site of the earliest nucleus of the present city, and it is inthis neighbourhood that one gets most in touch with the Rouen that has sonearly vanished. 

In this interesting portion of the city you come across the marvellouslyrich Grosse Horloge already mentioned. A casual glance would give one theimpression that the structure was no older than the seventeenth century, but the actual date of its building is 1529, and the clock itself datesfrom about 1389, and is as old as any in France. The dial you see to-day isbrilliantly coloured and has a red centre while the elaborate decorationthat covers nearly the whole surface of the walls is freely gilded, givingan exceedingly rich appearance. The two fourteenth century bells, one knownas La Rouvel or the Silver Bell on account of the legend that silver coinswere thrown into the mould when it was cast, and the other known asCache-Ribaut, are still in the tower, La Rouvel being still rung for aquarter of an hour at nine o'clock in the evening. It is the ancientCurfew, and the Tower de la Grosse Horloge is nothing more than thehistoric belfry of Rouen, although one might imagine by the way it standsover the street on an elliptical arch, that it had formed one of the gatesof the city. 

At the foot of the belfry is one of those richly sculptured fountains thatare to be seen in two or three places in the older streets. The carving isvery much blackened with age, and the detail is not very easilydiscernible, but a close examination will show that the story of Arethusa, and Alpheus, the river-god, is portrayed. The fountain was given to Rouenby the Duke of Luxembourg early in the eighteenth century. 

Adjoining the imposing Rue Jeanne d'Arc is the fine Gothic Palais deJustice, part of which was built by Louis XII. In the year 1499, thecentral portion being added by Leroux, sixteen years later. These greatbuildings were put up chiefly for the uses of the Echiquier--the supremecourt of the Duchy at that time--but it was also to be used as an exchangefor merchants who before this date had been in the habit of transactingmuch of their business in the cathedral. The historic hall where theEchiquier met is still to be seen. The carved oak of the roof has greatgilded pendants that stand out against the blackness of the wood-work, andthe Crucifixion presented by Louis XII. May be noticed among the portraitsin the Chambre du Conseille. 

The earliest portions of the great cathedral of Notre Dame date from thetwelfth century, the north tower showing most palpably the transition fromNorman work to the Early French style of Gothic. By the year 1255 whenLouis IX. Came to Rouen to spend Christmas, the choir, transepts and naveof the cathedral, almost as they may be seen to-day, had been completed. The chapel to St Mary did not make its appearance for some years, and theside _portails_ were only added in the fifteenth century. The elaboratework on the west front belongs to the century following, and although theideas of modern architects have varied as to this portion of the cathedral, the consensus of opinion seems to agree that it is one of the most perfectexamples of the flamboyant style so prevalent in the churches of Normandy. The detail of this masterpiece of the latest phase of Gothic architectureis almost bewildering, but the ornament in every place has a purpose, sothat the whole mass of detail has a reposeful dignity which can only havebeen retained by the most consummate skill. The canopied niches are in manyinstances vacant, but there are still rows of saints in the long lines ofrecesses. The rose window is a most perfect piece of work; it is filledwith painted glass in which strong blues and crimsons are predominant. Above the central tower known as the Tour de Pierre, that was builtpartially in the thirteenth century, there rises the astonishing iron spirethat is one of the highest in the world. Its weight is enormous despite thefact that it is merely an open framework. The architect of this masterlypiece of work whose name was Alavoine seems to have devoted himself withthe same intensity as Barry, to whom we owe the Royal Courts of Justice inLondon, for he worked upon it from 1823, the year following the destructionof the wooden spire by lightning, until 1834, the year of his death. Thespire, however, which was commenced almost immediately after the loss ofthe old one, remained incomplete for over forty years and it was notentirely finished until 1876. The flight of eight hundred and twelve stepsthat is perfectly safe for any one with steady nerves goes right up insidethe spire until, as you look out between the iron framework, Rouen liesbeneath your feet, a confused mass of detail cut through by the silverriver. 

The tower of St Romain is on the north side of the cathedral. It wasfinished towards the end of the fifteenth century, but the lower portion isof very much earlier date for it is the only portion of the cathedral thatwas standing when Richard I. On his way to the Holy Land knelt beforeArchbishop Gautier to receive the sword and banner which he carried withhim to the Crusade. 

The Tour de Beurre is on the southern side--its name being originated inconnection with those of the faithful who during certain Lents paid forindulgences in order to be allowed to eat butter. It was commenced in 1485, and took twenty-two years to complete. In this great tower there used tohang a famous bell. It was called the Georges d'Amboise after the greatCardinal to whom Rouen owes so much, not only as builder of the tower andthe facade, but also as the originator of sanitary reforms and a thousandother benefits for which the city had reason to be grateful. The great bellwas no less than 30 feet in circumference, its weight being 36, 000 lbs. Theman who succeeded in casting it, whose name was Jean Le Machon, seems tohave been so overwhelmed at his success that scarcely a month later hedied. At last when Louis XVI. Came to Rouen, they rang Georges d'Amboise soloudly that a crack appeared, and a few years later, during the Revolution, Le Machon's masterpiece was melted down for cannon. 

Inside the cathedral there are, besides the glories of the splendid Gothicarchitecture, the tombs of Henry Plantagenet, the eldest son of Henry II. , and Richard I. There are also the beautifully carved miserere seats in thechoir which are of particular interest in the way they illustrate manydetails of daily life in the fifteenth century. The stone figurerepresenting Richard Coeur de Lion lies outside the railings of thesanctuary. The heart of the king which has long since fallen into dust iscontained in a casket that is enclosed in the stone beneath the effigy. Thefigure of Henry Plantagenet is not the original--you may see that in themuseum, which contains so many fascinating objects that are associated withthe early history of Rouen. The splendid sixteenth century monument of thetwo Cardinals d'Amboise is to be seen in the Chapelle de la Sainte Vierge. The kneeling figures in the canopied recess represent the twoCardinals--that on the right, which is said to be a very good portrait, represents the famous man who added so much to the cathedral--the one onthe left shows his nephew, the second Cardinal Georges d'Amboise. In themiddle of the recess there is a fine sculpture showing St George and theDragon, and most of the other surfaces of the tomb are composed of richlyornamented niches, containing statuettes of saints, bishops, the Virgin andChild, and the twelve Apostles. Another remarkable tomb is that of Louis deBreze, considered to be one of the finest specimens of Renaissance work. Itis built in two storeys--the upper one showing a thrilling representationof the knight in complete armour and mounted upon his war-horse, but uponthe sarcophagus below he is shown with terrible reality as a naked corpse. The sculptor was possibly Jean Goujon, whose name is sometimes associatedwith the monument to the two Cardinals, which is of an earlier date. 

The tomb of Rollo, the founder of the Duchy of Normandy, and the first ofthe Normans to embrace the Christian religion, lies in a chapel adjoiningthe south transept. The effigy belongs to the fourteenth century, but themarble tablet gives an inscription which may be translated as follows:"Here lies Rollo, the first Duke and founder and father of Normandy, ofwhich he was at first the terror and scourge, but afterwards the restorer. Baptised in 912 by Francon, Archbishop of Rouen, and died in 917. Hisremains were at first deposited in the ancient sanctuary, at present theupper end of the nave. The altar having been removed, the remains of theprince were placed here by the blessed Maurille, Archbishop of Rouen in theyear 1063. " The effigy of William Longsword, Rollo's son, is in anotherchapel of the nave, that adjoining the north transept. His effigy, likethat of his father, dates from the fourteenth century. It is insurroundings of this character that we are brought most in touch with theRouen of our imaginations. 

We have already in a preceding chapter seen something of the interior ofthe church of St Ouen, which to many is more inspiring than the cathedral. The original church belonged to the Abbey of St Ouen, established in thereign of Clothaire I. When the Northmen came sailing up the river, layingwaste to everything within their reach, the place was destroyed, but afterRollo's conversion to Christianity the abbey was renovated, and in 1046 anew church was commenced, which having taken about eighty years to completewas almost immediately burnt down. Another fire having taken place acentury later, Jean Roussel, who was Abbot in 1318, commenced this presentbuilding. It was an enormous work to undertake but yet within twenty-oneyears the choirs and transepts were almost entirely completed. This greatAbbot was buried in the Mary chapel behind the High Altar. On the tomb heis called Marc d'Argent and the date of his death is given as December 7, 1339. After this the building of the church went on all through thecentury. The man who was master mason in this period was AlexandreBarneval, but he seems to have become jealous of an apprentice who builtthe rose window that is still such a splendid feature of the northtransept, for in a moment of passion he killed the apprentice and for thiscrime was sentenced to death in the year 1440. St Ouen was completed in thesixteenth century, but the west front as it appears to-day has two spireswhich made their appearance in recent times. The exterior, however, is notthe chief charm of St Ouen; it is the magnificent interior, so huge and yetso inspiring, that so completely satisfies one's ideas of proportion. Wherever you stand, the vistas of arches, all dark and gloomy, relievedhere and there by a blaze of coloured glass, are so splendid that youcannot easily imagine anything finer. A notable feature of the aisles isthe enormous space of glass covering the outer walls, so that the frameworkof the windows seems scarcely adequate to support the vaulted roof above. The central tower is supported by magnificent clustered piers of dark andswarthy masonry, and the views of these from the transepts or from theaisles of the nave make some of the finest pictures that are to be obtainedin this masterpiece of Gothic architecture. The tower that rises from thenorth transept belongs, it is believed, to the twelfth century church thatwas burnt. On the western front it is interesting to find statues ofWilliam the Conqueror, Henry II. And Richard Coeur de Lion among otherdukes of Normandy, and the most famous Archbishops of Rouen. 

Besides the cathedral and St Ouen there is the splendid church of StMaclou. Its western front suddenly appears, filling a gap in the blocks ofmodern shops on the right hand side as you go up the Rue de la Republic. The richness of the mass of carved stone-work arrests your attention, forafter having seen the magnificent facade of the cathedral you would thinkthe city could boast nothing else of such extraordinary splendour. The nameMaclou comes from Scotland, for it was a member of this clan, who, havingfled to Brittany, became Bishop of Aleth and died in 561. Since the tenthcentury a shrine to his memory had been placed outside the walls of Rouen. The present building was designed by Pierre Robin and it dates from between1437 and 1520, but the present spire is modern, having replaced the old oneabout the time of the Revolution. The richly carved doors of the west frontare the work of Jean Goujon. The organ loft rests on two columns of blackmarble, which are also his work; but although the dim interior is full ofinterest and its rose windows blaze with fifteenth century glass, it is thewest front and carved doors that are the most memorable features of thebuilding. 

In the Place du Marche Vieux you may see the actual spot where Joan of Arcwas burnt, a stone on the ground bearing the words "Jeanne Darc, 30 Mai, 1431. " To all who have really studied the life, the trial and the death ofthe Maid of Orleans--and surely no one should visit Rouen without suchknowledge--this is the most sacred spot in the city, for as we stand herewe can almost hear her words addressed to Cauchon, "It is you who havebrought me to this death. " We can see her confessor holding aloft the crossand we seem to hear her breathe the Redeemer's name before she expires. 

CHAPTER IV

Concerning the Cathedral City of Evreux and the Road to Bernay

The tolling of the deep-toned bourdon in the cathedral tower reverberatesover the old town of Evreux as we pass along the cobbled streets. There isa yellow evening light overhead, and the painted stucco walls of the housesreflect the soft, glowing colour of the west. In the courtyard of the Hoteldu Grand Cerf, too, every thing is bathed in this beautiful light and thedouble line of closely trimmed laurels has not yet been deserted by thegolden flood. But Evreux does not really require a fine evening to make itattractive, although there is no town in existence that is not improvedunder such conditions. With the magnificent cathedral, the belfry, theNorman church of St Taurin and the museum, besides many quaint peeps by themuch sub-divided river Iton that flows through the town, there issufficient to interest one even on the dullest of dull days. 

Of all the cathedral interiors in Normandy there are none that possess afiner or more perfectly proportioned nave than Evreux, and if I were askedto point out the two most impressive interiors of the churches in thisdivision of France I should couple the cathedral at Evreux with St Ouen atRouen. 

It was our own Henry I. Who having destroyed the previous building set towork to build a new one and it is his nave that we see to-day. The wholecathedral has since that time been made to reflect the changing ideals ofthe seven centuries that have passed. The west front belongs entirely tothe Renaissance period and the north transept is in the flamboyant style ofthe fifteenth century so much in evidence in Normandy and so infrequent inEngland. 

The central tower with its tall steeple now encased in scaffolding wasbuilt in 1470 by Cardinal Balue, Bishop of Evreux and inventor of thefearful wooden cages in one of which the prisoner Dubourg died at Mont StMichel. 

In most of the windows there is old and richly coloured glass; those in thechancel have stronger tones, but they all transform the shafts of lightinto gorgeous rainbow effects which stand out in wonderful contrast to thedelicate, creamy white of the stone-work. Pale blue banners are suspendedin the chancel, and the groining above is coloured on each side of thebosses for a short distance, so that as one looks up the great sweep of thenave, the banners and the brilliant fifteenth century glass appear as vividpatches of colour beyond the uniform, creamy grey on either side. TheNorman towers at the west end of the cathedral are completely hidden in themask of classical work planted on top of the older stone-work in thesixteenth century, and more recent restoration has altered some of theother features of the exterior. At the present day the process ofrestoration still goes on, but the faults of our grandfathers fortunatelyare not repeated. 

Leaving the Place Parvis by the Rue de l'Horloge you come to the great openspace in front of the Hotel de Ville and the theatre with the museum on theright, in which there are several Roman remains discovered at Vieil-Evreux, among them being a bronze statue of Jupiter Stator. On the opposite side ofthe Place stands the beautiful town belfry built at the end of thefifteenth century. There was an earlier one before that time, but I do notknow whether it had been destroyed during the wars with the English, orwhether the people of Evreux merely raised the present graceful tower inplace of the older one with a view to beautifying the town. The bell, whichwas cast in 1406 may have hung in the former structure, and there is somefascination in hearing its notes when one realises how these same soundwaves have fallen on the ears of the long procession of players who haveperformed their parts within its hearing. A branch of the Iton runs pastthe foot of the tower in canal fashion; it is backed by old houses andcrossed by many a bridge, and helps to build up a suitable foreground tothe beautiful old belfry, which seems to look across to the brand new Hotelde Ville with an injured expression. From the Boulevard Chambaudouin thereis a good view of one side of the Bishop's palace which lies on the southside of the cathedral, and is joined to it by a gallery and the remains ofthe cloister. The walls are strongly fortified, and in front of them runs abranch of one of the canals of the Iton, that must have originally servedas a moat. 

Out towards the long straight avenue that runs out of the town in thedirection of Caen, there may be seen the Norman church of St Taurin. It isall that is left of the Benedictine abbey that once stood here. Many peoplewho explore this interesting church fail to see the silver-gilt reliquaryof the twelfth century that is shown to visitors who make the necessaryinquiries. The richness of its enamels and the elaborate ornamentationstudded with imitation gems that have replaced the real ones, makes thiscasket almost unique. 

Many scenes from the life of the saint are shown in the windows of thechoir of the church. They are really most interesting, and the glass isvery beautiful. The south door must have been crowded with the mostelaborate ornament, but the delicately carved stone-work has been hackedaway and the thin pillars replaced by crude, uncarved chunks of stone. There is Norman arcading outside the north transept as well as just abovethe floor in the north aisle. St Taurin is a somewhat dilapidated andcob-webby church, but it is certainly one of the interesting features ofEvreux. 

Instead of keeping on the road to Caen after reaching the end of the greatavenue just mentioned, we turn towards the south and soon enter prettypastoral scenery. The cottages are almost in every instance thatched, withridges plastered over with a kind of cobb mud. In the cracks in thiscurious ridging, grass seeds and all sorts of wild flowers are soondeposited, so that upon the roof of nearly every cottage there is aluxuriant growth of grass and flowers. In some cases yellow irises aloneornament the roofs, and they frequently grow on the tops of the walls thatare treated in a similar fashion. A few miles out of Evreux you pass ahamlet with a quaint little church built right upon the roadway with nochurchyard or wall of any description. A few broken gravestones of quiterecent date litter the narrow, dusty space between the north side of thechurch and the roadway. Inside there is an untidy aspect to everything, butthere are some windows containing very fine thirteenth century glass whichthe genial old cure shows with great delight, for it is said that they wereintended for the cathedral at Evreux, but by some chance remained in thisobscure hamlet. The cure also points out the damage done to the windows by_socialistes_ at a recent date. 

By the roadside towards Conches, there are magpies everywhere, punctuatedby yellow hammers and nightingales. The cottages have thatch of a very deepbrown colour over the hipped roofs, closely resembling those in theout-of-the-way parts of Sussex. It a beautiful country, and thedelightfully situated town of Conches at the edge of its forest is wellmatched with its surroundings. 

In the middle of the day the inhabitants seem to entirely disappear fromthe sunny street, and everything has a placid and reposeful appearance asthough the place revelled in its quaintness. Backed by the dense masses offorest there is a sloping green where an avenue of great chestnuts towerabove the long, low roof of the timber-framed cattle shelter. On thehighest part of the hill stands the castle, whose round, central towershows above the trees that grow thickly on the slopes of the hill. Close tothe castle is the graceful church, and beyond are the clustered roofs ofthe houses. A viaduct runs full tilt against the hill nearly beneath thechurch, and then the railway pierces the hill on its way towards Bernay. The tall spire of the church of St Foy is comparatively new, for the wholestructure was rebuilt in the fifteenth century, but its stained glass is ofexceptional interest. Its richness of colour and the interest of thesubjects indicate some unusually gifted artist, and one is not surprised todiscover that they were designed by Aldegrevers, who was trained by thatgreat master Albrecht Dyrer. Altogether there are twenty-one of thesebeautiful windows. Seven occupy the eastern end of the apse and give scenestaken from the life of St Foy. 

You can reach the castle by passing through the quaint archway of the Hotelde Ville, and then passing through the shady public garden you plunge intothe dry moat that surrounds the fortified mound. There is not very much tosee but what appears in a distant view of the town, and in many ways theoutside groupings of the worn ruin and the church roofs and spire above thehouses are better than the scenes in the town itself. The Hotel CroixBlanche is a pleasant little house for dejeuner. Everything is extremelysimple and typical of the family methods of the small French inn, whereexcellent cooking goes along with many primitive usages. The coolsalle-a-manger is reached through the general living-room and kitchen, which is largely filled with the table where you may see the proprietorand his family partaking of their own meals. There seems no room to cookanything at all, and yet when you are seated in the next room thedaughter of the family, an attractive and neatly dressed girl, gracefully serves the most admirable courses, worthy and perhaps betterthan what one may expect to obtain in the best hotel in Rouen. 

There is a road that passes right through the forest of Conches towardsRugles, but that must be left for another occasion if we are to seeanything of the charms of Beaumont-le-Roger, the perfectly situated littletown that lies half-way between Conches and Bernay. 

The long street of the town containing some very charming peeps as you gotowards the church is really a terrace on the limestone hills that risesbehind the houses on the right, and falls steeply on the left. Spacesbetween the houses and narrow turnings give glimpses of the rich greencountry down below. From the lower level you see the rocky ridge aboveclothed in a profusion of trees. The most perfect picture in the town isfrom the river bank just by the bridge. In the foreground is themirror-like stream that gives its own rendering of the scene that is builtup above it. Leaning upon a parapet of the bridge is a man with a rod whois causing tragedies in the life that teems beneath the glassy surface. Beyond the bridge appear some quaint red roofs with one tower-like housewith an overhanging upper storey. Higher up comes the precipitous hilldivided into terraces by the huge walls that surround the abbey buildings, and still higher, but much below the highest part of the hill, are thepicturesque ruins of the abbey. On the summit of the ridge dominating allare the insignificant remains of the castle built by Roger a la Barbe, whose name survives in that of the town. His family were the founders ofthe abbey that flourished for several centuries, but finally, about ahundred years ago, the buildings were converted to the uses of a factory!Spinning and weaving might have still been going on but for a big fire thatdestroyed the whole place. There was, however, a considerably more completeseries of buildings left than we can see to-day, but scarcely more thanfifty years ago the place was largely demolished for building materials. The view from the river Rille is therefore the best the ruin can boast, forseen from that point the arches rise up against the green background as astately ruin, and the tangled mass of weeds and debris are invisible. Theentrance is most inviting. It is down at the foot of the cliff, and thearchway with the steep ascent inside suggests all sorts of delights beyond, as it stands there just by the main street of the town. I was sorryafterwards, that I had accepted that hospitality, for with the exception ofa group of merry children playing in an orchard and some big caves hollowedout of the foot of the cliff that rises still higher, I saw nothing but ajungle of nettles. This warning should not, however, suggest thatBeaumont-le-Roger is a poor place to visit. Not only is it a charming, Imay say a fascinating spot to visit, but it is also a place in which tostay, for the longer you remain there the less do you like the idea ofleaving. The church of St Nicholas standing in the main street where itbecomes much wider and forms a small Place, is a beautiful old buildingwhose mellow colours on stone-work and tiles glow vividly on a sunnyafternoon. There is a great stone wall forming the side of the rockyplatform that supports the building and the entrance is by steps that leadup to the west end. The tower belongs to the flamboyant period and high upon its parapet you may see a small statue of Regulus who does duty as a"Jack-smite-the-clock. " Just by the porch there leans against a wall a mostponderous grave slab which was made for the tomb of Jehan du Moustier asoldier of the fourteenth century who fought for that Charles of Navarrewho was surnamed "The Bad. " The classic additions to the western part ofthe church seem strangely out of sympathy with the gargoyles overhead andthe thirteenth century arcades of the nave, but this mixing up of styles isreally more incongruous in description than in reality. 

When you have decided to leave Beaumont-le-Roger and have passed across theold bridge and out into the well-watered plain, the position of the littletown suggests that of the village of Pulborough in Sussex, where a roadgoes downhill to a bridge and then crosses the rich meadowland where theriver Arun winds among the pastures in just the same fashion as the Rille. 

At a bend in the road to Bernay stands the village of Serquigny. It is justat the edge of the forest of Beaumont which we have been skirting, andbesides having a church partially belonging to the twelfth century it hastraces of a Roman Camp. All the rest of the way to Bernay the road followsthe railway and the river Charentonne until the long--and when you arelooking out for the hotel--seemingly endless street of Bernay is reached. After the wonderful combination of charms that are flaunted byBeaumont-le-Roger it is possible to grumble at the plainer features ofBernay, but there is really no reason to hurry out of the town for there ismuch quaint architecture to be seen, and near the Hotel du Lion d'Or thereis a house built right over the street resting on solid wooden posts. Butmore interesting than the domestic architecture are the remains of theabbey founded by Judith of Brittany very early in the eleventh century forit is probably one of the oldest Romanesque remains in Normandy. The churchis cut up into various rooms and shops at the choir end, and there has beenmuch indiscriminate ill-treatment of the ancient stone-work. Much of thestructure, including the plain round arches and square columns, is of thevery earliest Norman period, having been built in the first half of theeleventh century, but in later times classic ornament was added to the workof those shadowy times when the kingdom of Normandy had not long beenestablished. So much alteration in the styles of decoration has taken placein the building that it is possible to be certain of the date of only someportions of the structure. The Hotel de Ville now occupies part of theabbey buildings. 

At the eastern side of the town stands St Croix, a fifteenth century churchwith a most spacious interior. There is much beautiful glass dating fromthree hundred years ago in the windows of the nave and transepts, butperhaps the feature which will be remembered most when other impressionshave vanished, will be the finely carved statues belonging to thefourteenth century which were brought here from the Abbey of Bec. The southtransept contains a monument to Guillaume Arvilarensis, an abbot of Bec whodied in 1418. Upon the great altar which is believed to have been broughtfrom the Abbey of Bec, there are eight marble columns surrounding a smallwhite marble figure of the Child Jesus. 

Another church at Bernay is that of Notre Dame de la Couture. It has muchfourteenth century work and behind the high altar there are five chapels, the centre one containing a copy of the "sacred image" of Notre Dame whichstands by the column immediately to the right of the entrance. Much morecould be said of these three churches with their various styles ofarchitecture extending from the very earliest period down to the classicwork of the seventeenth century. But this is not the place for intricatedescriptions of architectural detail which are chiefly useful in bookswhich are intended for carrying from place to place. 

CHAPTER V

Concerning Lisieux and the Romantic Town of Falaise

Lisieux is so rich in the curious timber-framed houses of the middle andlater ages that there are some examples actually visible immediatelyoutside the railway station whereas in most cases one usually finds anaggregation of uninteresting modern buildings. As you go towards the centreof the town the old houses, which have only been dotted about here andthere, join hands and form whole streets of the most romantic and almoststage-like picturesqueness. The narrow street illustrated here is the Rueaux Fevres. Its houses are astonishingly fine, and it forms--especially inthe evening--a background suitable for any of the stirring scenes that tookplace in such grand old towns as Lisieux in medieval days. This street ishowever, only one of several that reek of history. In the Rue desBoucheries and in the Grande Rue there are lovely overhanging gables andcurious timber-framing that is now at any angle but what was originallyintended. There is really so much individual quaintness in these housesthat they deserve infinitely more than the scurry past them which sofrequently is all their attractions obtain. The narrowness and fustiness ofthe Rue aux Fevres certainly hinder you from spending much time inexamining the houses but there are two which deserve a few minutes'individual attention. One which has a very wide gable and the upper floorsboarded is believed to be of very great antiquity, dating from as early aperiod as the thirteenth century. It is numbered thirty-three, and must notbe confused with the richly ornamented Manoir de Francois I. The timberwork of this house, especially of the two lower floors is covered withelaborate carving including curious animals and quaint little figures, andalso the salamander of the royal house. For this reason the photographssold in the shops label the house "Manoir de la Salamandre. " The place isnow fast going to ruin--a most pitiable sight and I for one, would preferto see the place restored rather than it should be allowed to become sohopelessly dilapidated and rotten that the question of its preservationshould come to be considered lightly. 

If the town authorities of Lisieux chose to do so, they could encourage thetownsfolk to enrich many of their streets by a judicious flaking off of theplaster which in so many cases tries to hide all the pleasant features ofhouses that have seen at least three centuries, but this sort of work whenin the hands of only partially educated folk is liable to produce a worsestate of affairs than if things had been left untouched. An example of whatover-restoration can do, may be seen when we reach the beautiful old inn atDives. 

The two churches of Lisieux are well fitted to their surroundings, andalthough St Jacques has no graceful tower or fleche, the quaintness of itsshingled belfry makes up for the lack of the more stately towers of StPierre. Where the stone-work has stopped short the buttresses are roofedwith the quaintest semi-circular caps, and over the clock there are twomore odd-looking pepper boxes perched upon the steep slope that projectsfrom the square belfry. Over all there is a low pyramidal roof, stainedwith orange lichen and making a great contrast in colour to theweather-beaten stone-work down below. There are small patches of tiledroofing to the buttresses at the western ends of the aisles and these alsoadd colour to this picturesque building. The great double flight of stonesteps which lead to the imposing western door have balustrades filled withflamboyant tracery, but although the church is built up in this way, thefloor in the interior is not level, for it slopes gently up towards theeast. The building was commenced during the reign of Louis XII. And notfinished until nearly the end of the reign of Francois I. It is thereforecoeval with that richly carved house in the Rue aux Fevres. Along the sidesof the church there project a double row of thirsty-looking gargoyles--theupper ones having their shoulders supported by the mass of masonrysupporting the flying buttresses. The interior is richer than the exterior, and you may see on some of the pillars remains of sixteenth centurypaintings. A picture dating from 1681 occupies a position in the chapel ofSt Ursin in the south aisle; it shows the relic of the saint being broughtto Lisieux in 1055. 

The wide and sunny Place Thiers is dominated by the great church of StPierre, which was left practically in its present form in the year 1233. The first church was begun some years before the conquest of England butabout a century later it suffered the fate of Bayeux being burnt down in1136. It was reconstructed soon afterwards and shows to-day the firstperiod of Gothic architecture that became prevalent in Normandy. Only thenorth tower dates from this period, the other one had to be rebuilt duringthe reign of Henri III. And the spire only made its appearance in theseventeenth century. The Lady Chapel is of particular interest owing to thestatement that it was built by that Bishop of Beauvais who took such aprominent part in the trial of Joan of Arc. The main arches over the bigwest door are now bare of carving or ornament and the Hotel de Ville isbuilt right up against the north-west corner, but despite this St Pierrehas the most imposing and stately appearance, and there are many featuressuch as the curious turrets of the south transept that impress themselveson the memory more than some of the other churches we have seen. 

Lisieux is one of those cheerful towns that appear always clean and brightunder the dullest skies, so that when the sun shines every view seemsfreshly painted and blazing with colour. The freshness of the atmosphere, too, is seldom tainted with those peculiar odours that some French townsproduce with such enormous prodigality, and Lisieux may therefore claim afurther point in its favour. 

It is generally a wide, hedgeless stretch of country that lies betweenLisieux and Falaise, but for the first ten miles there are big farm-houseswith timber-framed barns and many orchards bearing a profusion of blossomnear the roadside. A small farm perched above the road and quite out ofsight, invites the thirsty passer-by to turn aside up a steep path topartake of cider or coffee. It is a simple, almost bare room where therefreshment is served, but its quaintness and shadowy coolness are mostrefreshing. The fireplace has an open hearth with a wood fire which cansoon be blown into a blaze by the big bellows that hang against the chimneycorner. A table by one of the windows is generally occupied in her sparemoments by the farmer's pretty daughter who puts aside her knitting tofetch the cider or to blow up the fire for coffee. They are a most genialfamily and seem to find infinite delight in plying English folk withquestions for I imagine that not many find their way to this sequesteredcorner among waving trees and lovely orchards. 

A sudden descent before reaching St Pierre-sur-Dives gives a great viewover the level country below where everything is brilliantly green andgarden-like. The village first shows its imposing church through the treesof a straight avenue leading towards the village which also possesses afine Market Hall that must be at least six hundred years old. The church isnow undergoing restoration externally, but by dodging the falling cementdust you may go inside, perhaps to be disappointed that there is not moreof the Norman work that has been noticed in the southern tower that risesabove the entrance. The village, or it should really be called a smalltown, for its population is over a thousand, has much in it that isattractive and quaint, and it might gain more attention if everyone whopasses through its streets were not hurrying forward to Falaise. 

The country now becomes a great plain, hedgeless, and at times almostfeatureless. The sun in the afternoon throws the shadows of the roadsidetrees at right angles, so that the road becomes divided into accuratesquares by the thin lines of shadow. The straight run from St Pierre isbroken where the road crosses the Dives. It is a pretty spot with a farm, amanor-house and a washing place for women just below the bridge, and thenfollows more open road and more interminable perspectives cutting throughthe open plain until, with considerable satisfaction, the greatthoroughfare from Caen is joined and soon afterwards a glimpse of thecastle greets us as we enter Falaise. 

There is something peculiarly fascinating about Falaise, for it combinesmany of the features that are sparingly distributed in other towns. Itsposition on a hill with deep valleys on all sides, its romantic castle, thetwo beautiful churches and the splendid thirteenth century gateway, formthe best remembered attractions, but beyond these there are the hundred andone pretty groupings of the cottages that crowd both banks of the littleriver Ante down in the valley under the awe-inspiring castle. 

Even then, no mention has been made of the ancient fronts that greet one inmany of the streets, and the charms of some of the sudden openings betweenthe houses that give views of the steep, wooded hollows that almost touchthe main street, have been slighted. A huge cube of solid masonry with agreat cylindrical tower alongside perched upon a mass of rock precipitouson two sides is the distant view of the castle, and coming closer, althoughyou can see the buttresses that spring from the rocky foundations, thedescription still holds good. You should see the fortress in the twilightwith a golden suffusion in the sky and strange, purplish shadows on thecastle walls. It then has much the appearance of one of those unassailablestrongholds where a beautiful princess is lying in captivity waiting for achivalrous knight who with a band of faithful men will attempt to scale theinaccessible walls. Under some skies, the castle assumes the character ofone of Turner's impressions, half real and half imaginary, and under noskies does this most formidable relic of feudal days ever lose its grandand awesome aspect. The entrance is through a gateway, the Porte St. Nicolas, which was built in the thirteenth century. There you are taken inhand by a pleasant concierge who will lead you first of all to the Tour LaReine, where he will point out a great breach in the wall made by Henri IV. When he successfully assaulted the castle after a bombardment with hisartillery which he had kept up for a week. This was in 1589, and since thenno other fighting has taken place round these grand old walls. The ivy thatclings to the ruins and the avenue of limes that leads up to the great keepare full of jackdaws which wheel round the rock in great flights. You havea close view of the great Tour Talbot, and then pass through a smalldoorway in the northern face of the citadel. Inside, the appearance of thewalls reveals the restoration which has taken place within recent years. But this, fortunately, does not detract to any serious extent from theinterest of the whole place. Up on the ramparts there are fine views overthe surrounding country, and immediately beneath the precipice below nestlethe picturesque, browny-red roofs of the lower part of the town. Just atthe foot of the castle rock there is still to be seen a tannery which is ofrather unusual interest in connection with the story of how Robert leDiable was first struck by the charms of Arlette, the beautiful daughter ofa tanner. The Norman duke was supposed to have been looking over thebattlements when he saw this girl washing clothes in the river, and we aretold that owing to the warmth of the day she had drawn up her dress, sothat her feet, which are spoken of as being particularly beautiful wererevealed to his admiring gaze. Arlette afterwards became the mother ofWilliam the Conqueror, and the room is pointed out in the south-west cornerof the keep in which we are asked to believe that the Conqueror of Englandwas born. It is, however, unfortunate for the legend that archaeologists donot allow such an early date for the present castle, and thus we are noteven allowed to associate these ramparts with the legend just mentioned. Itmust have been a strong building that preceded this present structure, forduring the eleventh century William the Norman was often obliged to retreatfor safety to his impregnable birthplace. The Tour Talbot has below itslowest floor what seems to be a dungeon, but it is said that prisoners werenot kept here, the place being used merely for storing food. The gloomychamber, however, is generally called an oubliette. Above, there are otherfloors, the top one having been used by the governor of the castle. In thethickness of the wall there is a deep well which now contains no water. Oneof the rooms in the keep is pointed out as that in which Prince Arthur waskept in confinement, but although it is known that the unfortunate youthwas imprisoned in this castle, the selection of the room seems to besomewhat arbitrary. 

In 1428 the news of Joan of Arc's continued successes was brought to theEarl of Salisbury who was then governor of Falaise Castle, and it was fromhere that he started with an army to endeavour to stop that triumphalprogress. In 1450 when the French completely overcame the numerous Englishgarrisons in the towns of Normandy, Falaise with its magnificent positionheld out for some time. The defenders sallied out from the walls of thetown but were forced back again, and notwithstanding their courage, thetown capitulated to the Duke of Alencon's army at almost the same time asAvranches and a dozen other strongly defended towns. We can picture toourselves the men in glinting head-pieces sallying from the splendid oldgateway known as the Port des Cordeliers. It has not lost its formidableappearance even to-day, though as you look through the archway the scene isquiet enough, and the steep flight of outside steps leads up to scenes ofquiet domestic life. The windows overlook the narrow valley beneath wherethe humble roofs of the cottages jostle one another for space. There aremany people who visit Falaise who never have the curiosity to explore thisunusually pleasing part of the town. In the spring when the lilac bushesadd their brilliant colour to the russet brown tiles and soft creams of thestone-work, there are pictures on every side. Looking in the cottages youmay see, generally within a few feet of the door, one of those ingeniousweaving machines that are worked with a treadle, and take up scarcely anyspace at all. If you ask permission, the cottagers have not the slightestobjection to allowing you to watch them at their work, and when one seeshow rapidly great lengths of striped material grow under the revolvingmetal framework, you wonder that Falaise is not able to supply the demandsof the whole republic for this class of material. 

Just by the Hotel de Ville and the church of La Trinite stands the imposingstatue of William the Conqueror. He is mounted on the enormous war-horse ofthe period and the whole effect is strong and spirited. The most notablefeature of the exterior of the church of La Trinite is the curiouspassage-way that goes underneath the Lady Chapel behind the High Altar. Thewhole of the exterior is covered with rich carving, crocketed finials, innumerable gargoyles and the usual enriched mouldings of Gothicarchitecture. The charm of the interior is heightened if one enters in thetwilight when vespers are proceeding. There is just sufficient light toshow up the tracery of the windows and the massive pointed arches in thechoir. A few candles burn by the altar beyond the dark mass of figuresforming the congregation. A Gregorian chant fills the building with itssolemn tones and the smoke of a swinging censer ascends in the shadowychancel. Then, as the service proceeds, one candle above the altar seems tosuddenly ignite the next, and a line of fire travels all over the greaterection surrounding the figure of the Virgin, leaving in its trail a blazeof countless candles that throw out the details of the architecture instrong relief. Soon the collection is made, and as the priest passes roundthe metal dish, he is followed by the cocked-hatted official whoseappearance is so surprising to those who are not familiar with Frenchchurches. As the priest passes the dish to each row the official brings hismetal-headed staff down upon the pavement with a noisy bang that iscalculated to startle the unwary into dropping their money anywhere elsethan in the plate. In time the bell rings beside the altar, and the priestrobed in white and gold elevates the host before the kneeling congregation. Once more the man in the cocked hat becomes prominent as he steps into theopen space between the transepts and tolls the big bell in the tower above. Then a smaller and much more cheerful bell is rung, and fearing the arrivalof another collecting priest we slip out of the swinging doors into thetwilight that has now almost been swallowed up in the gathering darkness. 

The consecration of the splendid Norman church of St Gervais took place inthe presence of Henry I. But there is nothing particularly English in anypart of the exterior. The central tower has four tall and deeply recessedarches (the middle ones contain windows) on each side, giving a richarcaded appearance. Above, rises a tall pointed roof ornamented with fourodd-looking dormers near the apex. Every one remarks on their similarity todovecots and one almost imagines that they must have been built as a placeof shelter on stormy days for the great gilded cock that forms the weathervane. The nave is still Norman on the south side, plain round-headedwindows lighting the clerestory, but the aisles were rebuilt in theflamboyant period and present a rich mass of ornament in contrast to theunadorned masonry of the nave. The western end until lately had to endurethe indignity of having its wall surfaces largely hidden by shops andhouses. These have now disappeared, but the stone-work has not beenrestored, and you may still see a section of the interior of the house thatformerly used the west end of the south aisle as one of its walls. You cansee where the staircases went, and you may notice also how wantonly thesedomestic builders cut away the buttresses and architectural enrichments tosuit the convenience of their own needs. 

As you go from the market-place along the street that runs from St Gervaisto the suburb of Guibray, the shops on the left are exchanged for a lowwall over which you see deep, grassy hollows that come right up to the edgeof the street. Two fine houses, white-shuttered and having the usual vacantappearance, stand on steep slopes surrounded by great cedars of Lebanon anda copper beech. 

The church of Guibray is chiefly Norman--it is very white inside and thereis some round-headed arcading in the aisles. The clustered columns of thenave have simple, pointed arches, and there is a carved marble altarpieceshowing angels supporting the Virgin who is gazing upwards. The aisles ofthe chancel are restored Norman, and the stone-work is bright green justabove the floor through the dampness that seems to have defied the effortsof the restorers. 

CHAPTER VI

From Argentan to Avranches

Between tall poplars whose stems are splotched with grey lichen and whosefeet are grown over with browny-green moss, runs the road from Falaise toArgentan, straight and white, with scarcely more than the slightest bend, for the whole eight miles. It is typical of the roads in this part of thecountry and beyond the large stone four or five kilometres outside Falaise, marking the boundary between Calvados and Orne, and the railway which onepasses soon afterwards, there is nothing to break the undulating monotonyof the boundless plain. 

We cannot all hope to have this somewhat dull stretch of country relievedby any exciting event, but I can remember one spring afternoon beingovertaken by two mounted gendarmes in blue uniforms, galloping for theirvery lives. I looked down the road into the cloud of dust raised by thehorses' hoofs, but the country on all sides lay calm and deserted, and Iwas left in doubt as to the reason for this astonishing haste. Half an hourafterwards a group of people appeared in the distance, and on approachingcloser, they proved to be the two gendarmes leading their blown horses asthey walked beside a picturesque group of apparently simple peasants, thethree men wearing the typical soft, baggy cap and blue smock of the countryfolk. The little group had a gloomy aspect, which was explained when Inoticed that the peasants were joined together by a bright steel chain. Evidently something was very much amiss with one of the peaceful villageslying near the road. 

After a time, at the end of the long white perspective, appear the towersof the great church of St Germain that dominate the town where Henry II. Was staying when he made that rash exclamation concerning his "turbulentpriest. " It was from Argentan that those four knights set out for Englandand Canterbury to carry out the deed, for which Henry lay in ashes for fiveweeks in this very place. But there is little at the present time atArgentan to remind one that it is in any way associated with the murder ofBecket. The castle that now exists is occupied by the Courts of Justice andwas partially built in the Renaissance period. Standing close to it, is anexceedingly tall building with a great gable that suggests anecclesiastical origin, and on looking a little closer one soon discoversblocked up Gothic windows and others from which the tracery has beenhacked. This was the chapel of the castle which has been so completelyrobbed of its sanctity that it is now cut up into small lodgings, and inone of its diminutive shops, picture post-cards of the town are sold. 

The ruins of the old castle are not very conspicuous, for in theseventeenth century the great keep was demolished. There is still a fairlynoticeable round tower--the Tour Marguerite--which has a pointed roof aboveits corbels, or perhaps they should be called machicolations. In the PlaceHenri IV. Stands a prominent building that projects over the pavementsupported by massive pointed arches, and with this building in theforeground there is one of the best views of St Germain that one can findin the town. Just before coming to the clock that is suspended over theroad by the porch of the church, there is a butcher's shop at the streetcorner that has a piece of oak carving preserved on account of its interestwhile the rest of the building has been made featureless with even plaster. The carving shows Adam and Eve standing on either side of a formal Tree ofLife, and the butcher, who is pleased to find a stranger who notices thislittle curiosity, tells him with great pride that his house dates from thefifteenth century. The porch of St Germain is richly ornamented, but ittakes a second place to the south porch of the church of Notre Dame atLouviers and may perhaps seem scarcely worthy of comment after St Maclou atRouen. The structure as a whole was commenced in 1424, and the last portionof the work only dates from the middle of the seventeenth century. Thevaulting of the nave has a very new and well-kept appearance and the sidealtars, in contrast to so many of even the large churches, are almostdignified in their somewhat restrained and classic style. The high altar isa stupendous erection of two storeys with Corinthian pillars. Nine long, white, pendant banners are conspicuous on the walls of the chancel. Thegreat altars and the lesser ones that crowd the side chapels are subject tothe accumulation of dirt as everything else in buildings sacred or lay, andat certain times of the day, a woman may be seen vigorously flapping thebrass candlesticks and countless altar ornaments with a big feather broom. On the north side of the chancel some of the windows have sections of oldpainted glass, and in one of them there is part of a ship with men incrow's nests backed by clouds, a really vigorous colour scheme. 

Keeping to the high ground, there is to the south of this church an openPlace, and beyond it there are some large barracks, where, on the otherside of a low wall may be seen the elaborately prepared steeple-chase fortraining soldiers to be able to surmount every conceivable form ofobstacle. Awkward iron railings, wide ditches, walls of differentcomposition and varying height are frequently scaled, and it is practice ofthis sort that has made the French soldier famous for the facility withwhich he can storm fortifications. The river Orne finds its way through thelower part of the town and here there are to be found some of the mostpleasing bits of antique domestic architecture. One of the quaintest ofthese built in 1616 is the galleried building illustrated here, and from aparallel street not many yards off there is a peep of a house that has beenbuilt right over the stream which is scarcely less picturesque. 

[Illustration: A SEVENTEENTH CENTURY HOUSE AT ARGENTAN]

The church of St Martin is passed on entering Argentan from Falaise. Itseast end crowds right up against the pavement and it is somewhat unusual tofind the entrances at this portion of the building. The stained glass inthe choir of St Martin is its most noticeable feature--the pictures showingvarious scenes in the life of Christ. 

As in all French towns Argentan knows how to decorate on fete days. Comingout of the darkness of the church in the late twilight on one of theseoccasions, I discovered that the town had suddenly become festooned with along perspective of arches stretching right away down the leafy avenue thatgoes out of the town--to the north in one direction, and to St Germain inthe other. The arches were entirely composed without a single exception oflarge crimson-red Chinese lanterns. The effect was astonishingly good, butdespite all the decoration, the townsfolk seemed determined to preserve thequiet of the Sabbath, and although there were crowds everywhere, the onlynoise that broke the stillness was that of the steam round-about that hadbeen erected on a triangular patch of grass. The dark crowds of peopleilluminated by flaring lights stood in perfect quiet as they watched thegreat noisy mass of moving animals and boats, occupied almost entirely bychildren, keep up its perpetual dazzle and roar. The fair--for there weremany side-shows--was certainly quieter than any I have witnessed inEngland. 

A long, straight road, poplar-bordered and level, runs southwards fromArgentan to Mortree, a village of no importance except for the fact thatone must pass through it if one wishes to visit the beautiful Chateau d'O. This sixteenth century mansion like so many to be seen in this part ofFrance, is in a somewhat pathetic state of disrepair, but as far as one maysee from the exterior, it would not require any very great sum tocompletely restore the broken stone-work and other signs of decay. These, while perhaps adding to the picturesqueness of the buildings, do not bringout that aspect of carefully preserved antiquity which is the charm of mostof the houses of this period in England. The great expanse of water in themoat is very green and covered by large tracts of weed, but the water issupplied by a spring, and fish thrive in it. The approach to the chateauacross the moat leads to an arched entrance through which you enter thelarge courtyard overlooked on three sides by the richly ornamentedbuildings, the fourth side being only protected from the moat by a lowwall. It would be hard to find a more charming spot than this with itsviews across the moat to the gardens beyond, backed by great masses offoliage. 

Going on past Mortree the main road will bring one after about eight milesto the old town of Alencon, which has been famed ever since the time ofLouis XIV. For the lace which is even at the present day worked in thevillages of this neighbourhood, more especially at the hamlet of Damigny. The cottagers use pure linen thread which is worth the almost incrediblesum of £100 per lb. They work on parchment from patterns which are suppliedby the merchants in Alencon. The women go on from early morning until thelight fails, and earn something about a shilling per day!

The castle of Alencon, built by Henry I. In the twelfth century, waspulled down with the exception of the keep, by the order of Henry ofNavarre, the famous contemporary of Queen Elizabeth. This keep is still inexistence, and is now used as a prison. Near it is the Palais de Justice, standing where the other buildings were situated. 

The west porch of the church of Notre Dame is richly ornamented withelaborate canopies, here and there with statues. One of these represents StJohn, and it will be seen that he is standing with his face towards thechurch. A legend states that this position was taken by the statue when thechurch was being ransacked by Protestants in the sixteenth century. 

Another road from Argentan is the great _route nationale_ that runs in afairly direct line to Granville. As one rides out of the town there is apretty view on looking back, of St Germain standing on the slight eminenceabove the Orne. Keeping along by that river the road touches it again atthe little town of Ecouche. The old market hall standing on massivepillars, is the most attractive feature of the place. Its old tiled roofand half-timbered upper storey remind one forcibly of some of thosefortunate old towns in England that have preserved this feature. The churchhas lost its original nave, and instead, there is a curious barn-likestructure, built evidently with a view to economy, being scarcely more thanhalf the height of the original: the vacant space has been very roughlyfilled up, and the numerous holes and crevices support a fine growth ofweeds, and a strong young tree has also taken root in the ramshackle stonework. From the central tower, gargoyles grin above the elaborately carvedbuttresses and finials in remarkable contrast to the jerry-built addition. 

[Illustration: THE OLD MARKET HOUSE AT ECOUCHE]

Passing through rich country, you leave the valley of the Orne, and onboth sides of the road are spread wide and fascinating views over theorchard-clad country that disappears in the distant blue of the horizon. Wonderful patches of shadow, when large clouds are flying over the heavens, fall on this great tract of country and while in dull weather it may seem alittle monotonous, in days of sunshine and shade it is full of a hauntingbeauty that is most remarkable. 

About seven miles from Argentan one passes Fromentelle, a quiet hamlet fullof thatched cottages and curious weathercocks, and then five miles furtheron, having descended into the valley of the little river Rouvre, Briouzeis entered. Here there is a wide and very extensive market-place withanother quaint little structure, smaller than the one at Ecouche, buthaving a curious bell-turret in the centre of the roof. On Monday, whichis market day, Briouze presents a most busy scene, and there are plenty ofopportunities of studying the genial looking country farmers, their wives, and the large carts in which they drive from the farms. In the midst of thebooths, you may see a bronze statue commemorating the "Sapeurs, pompiers"and others of this little place who fell in 1854. 

Leaving the main road which goes on to Flers, we may take the road toDomfront, which passes through three pretty villages and much pleasantcountry. Bellau, the first village, is full of quaint houses and charmingold-world scenes. The church is right in the middle on an open spacewithout an enclosure of any description. Standing with one's back to thisbuilding, there is a pretty view down the road leading to the south, apatch of blue distance appearing in the opening between the old gables. Toall those who may wish to either paint or photograph this charming scene, Iwould recommend avoiding the hour in the afternoon when the children comeout of school. I was commencing a drawing one sunny afternoon--it must havebeen about three o'clock--and the place seemed almost deserted. Indeed, Ihad been looking for a country group of peasants to fill the great whitespace of sunny road, when in twos and threes, the juvenile populationflooded out towards me. For some reason which I could not altogetherfathom, the boys arranged themselves in a long, regular line, occupyingexactly one half of the view, the remaining space being filled by anequally long line of little girls. All my efforts failed to induce thechildren to break up the arrangement they had made. They merely alteredtheir formation by advancing three or four paces nearer with almostmilitary precision. They were still standing in their unbroken rows when Ileft the village. 

Passing a curious roadside cross which bears the date 1741 and a long Latininscription splashed over with lichen, one arrives at La Ferriere auxEtangs, a quaint village with a narrow and steep street containing oneconspicuously old, timber-framed house. But it is scarcely necessary topoint out individual cottages in this part of Normandy, for wherever onelooks, the cottages are covered with thick, purply-grey thatch, and thewalls below are of grey wooden framework, filled in with plaster, generallycoloured a creamy-white. When there are deep shadows under the eaves andthe fruit trees in blossom stand out against the dark thatch, one caneasily understand how captivating is the rural charm of this part ofNormandy. Gradually the road ascends, but no great views are apparent, although one is right above the beautiful valley of the Varennes, untilquite near to Domfront. Then, suddenly there appears an enormous stretch ofslightly undulating country to the south and west. As far as one can see, the whole land seems to be covered by one vast forest. 

But though part of this is real forest-land, much of it is composed oforchards and hedgerow trees, which are planted so closely together that, ata short distance, they assume the aspect of close-growing woods. The firstimpression of the great stretch of forest-land does not lose its strikingaspect, even when one has explored the whole of the town. The road thatbrings one into the old town runs along a ridge and after passing one ofthe remains of the old gateways, it rises slightly to the highest part ofthe mass of rock upon which Domfront is perched. The streets are narrow andparallel to accommodate themselves to the confined space within the walls. At the western end of the granite ridge, and separated from the town by anarrow defile, stands all that is left of the castle--a massive butsomewhat shapeless ruin. At the western end of the ramparts, one looks downa precipitous descent to the river Varennes which has by some unusualagency, cut itself a channel through the rocky ridge if it did not merelyoccupy an existing gap. At the present time, besides the river, the roadand railway pass through the narrow gorge. 

The castle has one of those sites that appealed irresistibly to the warlikebarons of the eleventh century. In this case it was William I. , Duc deBelleme, who decided to raise a great fortress on this rock that he hadevery reason to believe would prove an impregnable stronghold, but althoughonly built in 1011, it was taken by Duke William thirty-seven years later, being one of the first brilliant feats by which William the Norman showedhis strength outside his own Duchy. A century or more later, Henry II. , when at Domfront, received the pope's nuncio by whom a reconciliation wasin some degree patched up between the king and Becket. Richard I. Is knownto have been at the castle at various times. In the sixteenth century, a most thrilling siege was conducted during the period when Catherinede Medicis was controlling the throne. A Royalist force, numbering someseven or eight thousand horse and foot, surrounded this formidable rockwhich was defended by the Calvinist Comte de Montgommery. With him wasanother Protestant, Ambroise le Balafre, who had made himself a despotat Domfront, but whose career was cut short by one of Montgommery's menwith whom he had quarrelled. They buried him in the little church ofNotre-Dame-sur-l'Eau--the wonderfully preserved Norman building that onesees beneath one's feet when standing on the ramparts of the castle. Thebody, however, was not long allowed to remain there, for when the royalarmy surrounded the castle they brought out the corpse and hung it in aconspicuous place to annoy the besieged. Like Corfe Castle in England, andmany other magnificently fortified strongholds, Domfront was capable ofdefence by a mere handful. In this case the original garrison consisted ofone hundred and fifty, and after many desertions the force was reduced toless than fifty. A great breach had been made by the six pieces ofartillery placed on the hill on the opposite side of the gorge, and throughthis the besiegers endeavoured to enter. The attenuated garrison, withmagnificent courage, held the breach after a most desperate and bloodyfight. But after all this display of courage, it was found impossible tocontinue the defence, for by the next morning there were barely more than adozen men left to fight. Finally Montgommery was obliged to surrenderunconditionally, and not long afterwards he was executed in Paris. You maysee the breach where this terrible fight took place at the present day, andas you watch the curious effects of the blue shadows falling among theforest trees that stretch away towards the south, you may feel that you arelooking over almost the same scene that was gazed upon by the notablefigures in history who have made their exits and entrances at Domfront. 

So little has the church of Notre-Dame-sur-l'Eau altered in its appearancesince it was built by the Duc de Belleme that, were he to visit the ruinsof his castle, he would marvel no doubt that the men of the nine centurieswhich have passed, should have consistently respected this sturdy littlebuilding. There are traces of aisles having existed, but otherwise theexterior of the church can have seen no change at all in this long period. Inside, however, the crude whitewash, the curious assemblage of enormousseventeenth century gravestones that are leant against the walls, and theterribly jarring almost life-sized crucifix, all give one that feeling ofrevulsion that is inseparable from an ill-kept place of worship. On thebanks of the river outside, women may be seen washing clothes; the soundsof the railway come from the station near by, and overhead, rising abovethe foliage at its feet, are the broken walls and shattered keep from whichwe have been gazing. 

[Illustration: ONE OF THE TOWERS IN THE WALLS OF DOMFRONT]

The walls of the town, punctuated by many a quaint tower, have lost theirfearsome aspect owing to the domestic uses to which the towers are palpablydevoted. One of them appears in the adjoining illustration, and it istypical of the half-dozen or so that still rise above the pretty gardensthat are perched along the steep ascent. But though Domfront is full ofalmost thrilling suggestions of medievalism and the glamour of an ancienttown, yet there is a curious lack of picturesque arrangement, so that ifone were to be led away by the totally uninteresting photographs that maybe seen in the shops, one would miss one of the most unique spots inNormandy. 

Stretching away towards Flers, there is a tract of green country all upsand downs, but with no distant views except the peep of Domfront thatappears a few miles north of the town. Crowning the ridge of the hill isthe keep of the castle, resembling a closed fist with the second fingerraised, and near it, the bell-cote of the Palais de Justice and the spireof the church break the line of the old houses. Ferns grow by the roadsideon every bank, but the cottages and farms are below the average of rusticbeauty that one soon demands in this part of France. 

Flers is a somewhat busy manufacturing town where cotton and threadmills have robbed the place of its charm. At first sight one mightimagine the church which bears the date 1870 was of considerablygreater age, but inside one is almost astounded at the ramshacklegalleries, the white-washed roof of rough boards discoloured by damp, and the general squalor of the place relieved only by a ponderousaltar-piece of classic design. The castle is still in good preservationbut although it dates from early Norman times, it is chiefly of thesixteenth century. 

Out in the country again, going westwards, the cottage industry ofweaving is apparent in nearly every cottage one sees. The loudclick-a-ti-clack--click-a-ti-clack of the looms can be heard on everyside as one passes such villages as Landisacq. Everywhere the sceneryis exceedingly English, the steep hillsides are often covered withorchards, and the delicate green of the apple-trees in spring-time, half-smothered in pinky-white blossom, gives the country a garden-likeaspect. You may see a man harrowing a field on a sudden slope with acloud of dust blowing up from the dry light soil, and you may hear himmake that curious hullaballooing by which the peasants direct theirhorses, so different from the grunting "way-yup there" of the Englishploughman. Coming down a long descent, a great stretch of country tothe north that includes the battlefield of Tinchebrai comes into view. It is hard to associate the rich green pastures, smiling orchards, andpeaceful cattle, with anything so gruesome as a battle between armiesled by brothers. But it was near the little town of Tinchebrai that thetwo brothers, Henry I. , King of England, and Robert Duke of Normandyfought for the possession of Normandy. Henry's army was greatlysuperior to that of his brother, for he had the valuable help of theCounts of Conches, Breteuil, Thorigny, Mortagne, Montfort, and two orthree others as powerful. But despite all this array, the battle forsome time was very considerably in Robert's favour, and it was onlywhen Henry, heavily pressed by his brother's brilliant charge, orderedhis reserves to envelop the rear, that the great battle went in favourof the English king. Among the prisoners were Robert and his youthfulson William, the Counts of Mortain, Estouteville, Ferrieres, and alarge number of notable men. Until his death, twenty-seven years later, Henry kept his brother captive in Cardiff Castle, and it has been saidthat, owing to an effort to escape, Henry was sufficiently lacking inall humane feelings towards his unfortunate brother, to have both hiseyes put out. It seems a strange thing that exactly sixty years afterthe battle of Hastings, a Norman king of England, should conquer thecountry which had belonged to his father. 

The old church of St Remy at Tinchebrai, part of which dates from thetwelfth century, has been abandoned for a new building, but the inn--theHotel Lion d'Or--which bears the date 1614, is still in use. Vire, however, is only ten miles off, and its rich mediaeval architecture urges usforward. 

Standing in the midst of the cobbled street, there suddenly appears rightahead a splendid thirteenth century gateway--the Tour de l'Horloge--thatmakes one of the richest pictures in Normandy. It is not always one can seethe curious old tower thrown up by a blaze of gold in the west, but thosewho are fortunate enough to see such an effect may get a small suggestionof the scene from the illustration given here. The little painted figure ofthe Virgin and Child stands in a niche just over the arch, and by itappears the prayer "Marie protege la ville!"

One of the charms of Vire is its cleanliness, for I can recall nounpleasant smells having interfered with the pleasure of exploring the oldstreets. There is a great market on the northern side of the town, open andbreezy. It slopes clear away without any intervening buildings to a greatexpanse of green wooded country, suggestive of some of the views that lieall around one at Avranches. The dark old church of Notre Dame dates mainlyfrom the twelfth century. Houses and small shops are built up against itbetween the buttresses in a familiar, almost confidential manner, and onthe south side, the row of gargoyles have an almost humorous appearance. The drips upon the pavement and shops below were evidently a nuisance, andrain water-spouts, with plain pipes leading diagonally from them, have beenattached to each grotesque head, making it seem that the grinning monstershave developed a great and unquenchable thirst. Inside, the church is darkand impressive. There are double rows of pillars in the aisles, and a hugecrucifix hangs beneath the tower, thrown up darkly against the chancel, which is much painted and gilded. The remains of the great castle consistof nothing more than part of the tall keep, built eight hundred years ago, and fortunately not entirely destroyed when the rest of the castle camedown by the order of Cardinal Richelieu. An exploration of the quaintstreets of Vire will reveal two or three ancient gateways, many gabledhouses, some of which are timber-framed visually, and most of them are thesame beneath their skins of plaster. The houses in one of the streets areconnected with the road by a series of wooden bridges across the river, which there forms one of the many pictures to be found in Vire. 

Mortain is separated from Vire by fifteen miles of exceedingly hillycountry, and those who imagine that all the roads in Normandy are the flatand poplar bordered ones that are so often encountered, should travel alongthis wonderful switch-back. As far as Sourdeval there seems scarcely a yardof level ground--it is either a sudden ascent or a breakneck rush into atrough-like depression. You pass copices of firs and beautiful woods, although in saying beautiful it is in a limited sense, for one seldom findsthe really rich woodlands that are so priceless an ornament to many Surreyand Kentish lanes. The road is shaded by tall trees when it begins todescend into the steep rocky gorge of the Cance with its tumblingwaterfalls that are a charming feature of this approach to Mortain. Highupon the rocks on the left appears an enormous gilded statue of the Virgin, in the grounds of the Abbaye Blanche. Going downwards among the brokensunlight and shadows on the road, Mortain appears, picturesquely perched ona great rocky steep, and in the opening of the valley a blue haze suggeststhe great expanse of level country towards the south. The big parish churchof the town was built originally in 1082 by that Robert of Mortain, who, itwill be remembered, was one of the first of the Normans to receive from thevictorious William a grant of land in England. The great tower which standsalmost detached on the south-west side is remarkable for its enormouslytall slit windows, for they run nearly from the ground to the saddle-backroof. The interior of this church is somewhat unusual, the nave and chancelbeing structurally one, and the aisles are separated by twenty-fourcircular grey pillars with Corinthian capitals. The plain surfaces of thewalls and vaulting are absolutely clean white, picked out with fine blacklines to represent stone-work--a scarcely successful treatment of such aninterior! On either side of the High Altar stand two great statuesrepresenting St Guillaume and St Evroult. 

To those who wish to "do" all the sights of Mortain there is the Chapel ofSt Michael, which stands high up on the margin of a great rocky hill, butthe building having been reconstructed about fifty years ago, the chiefattraction to the place is the view, which in tolerably clear weather, includes Mont St Michel towards which we are making our way. 

A perfectly straight and fairly level stretch of road brings you to StHilaire-du-Harcout. On the road one passes two or three large countryhouses with their solemn and perfectly straight avenues leading directly upto them at right angles from the road. The white jalousies seem alwaysclosed, the grass on the lawns seems never cut, and the wholeestablishments have a pathetically deserted appearance to the passer-by. Afeature of this part of the country can scarcely be believed withoutactually using one's eyes. It is the wooden chimney-stack, covered with oakshingles, that surmounts the roofs of most of the cottages. Where theshingles have fallen off, the cement rubble that fills the space betweenthe oak framing appears, but it is scarcely credible that, even with thispartial protection, these chimneys should have survived so many centuries. I have asked the inmates of some of the cottages whether they ever feared afire in their chimneys, but they seemed to consider the question as totallyunnecessary, for some providence seems to have watched over their frailstructures. 

St Hilaire has a brand new church and nothing picturesque in its long, almost monotonous, street. Instead of turning aside at Pontaubault towardsMont St Michel, we will go due north from that hamlet to the beautifullysituated Avranches. This prosperous looking town used, at one time, to havea large English colony, but it has recently dwindled to such smalldimensions that the English chaplain has an exceedingly small parish. Thestreets seem to possess a wonderful cleanliness; all the old houses appearto have made way for modern buildings which, in a way, give Avranches theaspect of a watering-place, but its proximity to the sea is more apparentin a map than when one is actually in the town. On one side of the greatplace in front of the church of Notre Dame des Champs is the Jardin desPlantes. To pass from the blazing sunshine and loose gravel, to the densegreen shade of the trees in this delightful retreat is a pleasure that canbe best appreciated on a hot afternoon in summer. The shade, however, andthe beds of flowers are not the only attractions of these gardens. Theirgreatest charm is the wonderful view over the shining sands and theglistening waters of the rivers See and Selune that, at low tide, taketheir serpentine courses over the delicately tinted waste of sand thatoccupies St Michael's Bay. Out beyond the little wooded promontory thatprotects the mouth of the See, lies Mont St Michel, a fretted silhouette offlat pearly grey, and a little to the north is Tombelaine, a lesspretentious islet in this fairyland sea. Framed by the stems and foliage ofthe trees, this view is one of the most fascinating in Normandy. One wouldbe content to stay here all through the sultry hours of a summer day, tolisten to the distant hum of conversation among white-capped nursemaids, asthey sew busily, giving momentary attention to their charges. But Avrancheshas an historical spot that no student of history, and indeed no one whocares anything for the picturesque events that crowd the pages of thechronicles of England in the days of the Norman kings, may miss. It is thefamous stone upon which Henry II. Knelt when he received absolution for themurder of Becket at the hands of the papal legate. To reach this stone is, for a stranger, a matter of some difficulty. From the Place by the Jardindes Plantes, it is necessary to plunge down a steep descent towards therailway station, and then one climbs a series of zigzag paths on a highgrassy bank that brings one out upon the Place Huet. In one corner, surrounded by chains and supported by low iron posts, is the historicstone. It is generally thickly coated with dust, but the brass plateaffixed to a pillar of the doorway is quite legible. These, and a fewfragments of carved stone that lie half-smothered in long grass and weedsat a short distance from the railed-in stone, are all that remain of thecathedral that existed in the time of Henry II. 

It must have been an impressive scene on that Sunday in May 1172, when thepapal legate, in his wonderful robes, stood by the north transept door, ofwhich only this fragment remains, and granted absolution to the sovereign, who, kneeling in all humbleness and submission, was relieved of the curseof excommunication which had been laid on him after the tragic affair inthe sanctuary at Canterbury. In place of the splendid cathedral, whose navecollapsed, causing the demolition of the whole building in 1799, there is anew church with the two great western towers only carried up to half theheight intended for them. 

From the roadway that runs along the side of the old castle walls interrace fashion there is another wonderful view of rich green country, through which, at one's feet, winds the river See. Away towards thenorth-west the road to Granville can be seen passing over the hills in aperfectly straight line. But this part of the country may be left foranother chapter. 

CHAPTER VII

Concerning Mont St Michel

 So, when their feet were planted on the plain That broaden'd toward the base of Camelot, Far off they saw the silver-misty morn Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount, That rose between the forest and the field. At times the summit of the high city flash'd; At times the spires and turrets half-way down Pricked through the mist; at times the great gate shone Only, that open'd on the field below: Anon, the whole fair city disappeared. 

 Tennyson's _Gareth and Lynette_

"The majestic splendour of this gulf, its strategetic importance, have atall times attracted the attention of warriors. " In this quaint fashioncommences the third chapter of a book upon Mont St Michel which is to bepurchased in the little town. We have already had a glimpse of thesplendour of the gulf from Avranches, but there are other aspects of therock which are equally impressive. They are missed by all those who, instead of going by the picturesque and winding coast-road fromPontaubault, take the straight and dusty _route nationale_ to Pontorson, and then turn to follow the tramway that has in recent years been extendedalong the causeway to the mount itself. If one can manage to make it arather late ride along the coast-road just mentioned, many beautifuldistant views of Mont St Michel, backed by sunset lights, will be an amplereward. Even on a grey and almost featureless evening, when the sea isleaden-hued, there may, perhaps, appear one of those thin crimson linesthat are the last efforts of the setting sun. This often appears justbehind the grey and dim rock, and the crimson is reflected in a delicatetinge upon the glistening sands. Tiny rustic villages, with churches humbleand unobtrusive, and prominent calvaries, are passed one after the other. At times the farmyards seem to have taken the road into their own hands, for a stone well-head will appear almost in the roadway, and chickens, pigs, and a litter of straw have to be allowed for by those who ride ordrive along this rural way. When the rock is still some distance off, theroad seems to determine to take a short cut across the sands, but thinkingbetter of it, it runs along the outer margin of the reclaimed land, andthere is nothing to prevent the sea from flooding over the road at its owndiscretion. Once on the broad and solidly constructed causeway, the rockrapidly gathers in bulk and detail. It has, indeed, as one approaches, analmost fantastic and fairy-like outline. Then as more and more grows fromthe hazy mass, one sees that this remarkable place has a crowded and muchembattled loneliness. Two round towers, sturdy and boldly machicolated, appear straight ahead, but oddly enough the wall between them has noopening of any sort, and the stranger is perplexed at the inhospitablecurtain-wall that seems to refuse him admittance to the mediaeval delightswithin. It almost heightens the impression that the place belongsaltogether to dreamland, for in that shadowy world all that is mostdesirable is so often beyond the reach of the dreamer. It is a verydifferent impression that one gains if the steam train has been taken, forits arrival is awaited by a small crowd of vulture-like servants andporters from the hotels. The little crowd treats the incoming train-load oftourists as its carrion, and one has no time to notice whether there is agateway or not before being swept along the sloping wooden staging thatleads to the only entrance. The simple archway in the outer wall leads intothe Cour de l'Avancee where those two great iron cannons, mentioned in anearlier chapter, are conspicuous objects. They were captured by the heroicgarrison when the English, in 1433, made their last great effort to obtainpossession of the rock. Beyond these, one passes through the barbican tothe Cour de la Herse, which is largely occupied by the Hotel Poulard Aine. Then one passes through the Porte du Roi, and enters the town proper. Thenarrow little street is flanked by many an old house that has seen most ofthe vicissitudes that the little island city has suffered. In fact many ofthese shops which are now almost entirely given over to the sale ofmementoes and books of photographs of the island, are individually of greatinterest. One of the most ancient in the upper part of the street, ispointed out as that occupied in the fourteenth century by Tiphane deRaguenel, the wife of the heroic Bertrand du Guesclin. 

It is almost impossible for those who are sensitive in such matters, not tofeel some annoyance at the pleasant but persistent efforts of the vendorsof souvenirs to induce every single visitor to purchase at each separateshop. To get an opportunity for closely examining the carved oaken beamsand architectural details of the houses, one must make at least some smallpurchase at each trinket store in front of which one is inclined to pause. Perhaps it would even be wise before attempting to look at anythingarchitectural in this quaintest of old-world streets, to go from one end tothe other, buying something of trifling cost, say a picture postcard, fromeach saleswoman. In this way, one might purchase immunity from theover-solicitous shop-keepers, and have the privilege of being able torealise the mediaeval character of the place without constantinterruptions. 

Nearly every visitor to Mont St Michel considers that this historic gem, inits wonderful setting of opalescent sand, can be "done" in a few hours. They think that if they climb up the steps to the museum--a new buildingmade more conspicuous than it need be by a board bearing the word _Musee_in enormous letters--if they walk along the ramparts, stare for a moment atthe gateways, and then go round the abbey buildings with one of the smallcrowds that the guide pilots through the maze of extraordinary vaultedpassages and chambers, that they have done ample justice to thisworld-famous sight. If the rock had only one-half of its historic andfantastically arranged buildings, it would still deserve considerably morethan this fleeting attention paid to it by such a large proportion of thetourists. So many of these poor folk come to Mont St Michel quite willingto learn the reasons for its past greatness, but they do not bring withthem the smallest grains of knowledge. The guides, whose knowledge ofEnglish is limited to such words as "Sirteenth Senchury" (thirteenthcentury), give them no clues to the reasons for the existence of anybuildings on the island, and quite a large proportion of visitors go awaywithout any more knowledge than they could have obtained from theexamination of a good book of photographs. 

To really appreciate in any degree the natural charms of Mont St Michel, atleast one night should be spent on the rock. Having debated between therival houses of Poularde Aine and Poularde Jeune, and probably decided onthe older branch of the family, perhaps with a view to being able to speakof their famous omelettes with enthusiasm, one is conducted to one of thehouses or dependences connected with the hotel. If one has selected theMaison Rouge, it is necessary to make a long climb to one's bedroom. Thelong salle a manger, where dinner is served, is in a tall wedge-likebuilding just outside the Porte du Roi and in the twilight of eveningcoffee can be taken on the little tables of the cafe that overflows on tothe pavement of the narrow street. The cafe faces the head-quarters of thehotel, and is as much a part of it as any of the other buildings whichcontain the bedrooms. To the stranger it comes as a surprise to be handed aChinese lantern at bedtime, and to be conducted by one of the hotelservants almost to the top of the tall house just mentioned. Suddenly theman opens a door and you step out into an oppressive darkness. Here the useof the Chinese lantern is obvious, for without some artificial light, thelong series of worn stone steps, that must be climbed before reaching theMaison Rouge, would offer many opportunities for awkward falls. Thebedrooms in this house, when one has finally reached a floor far above thelittle street, have a most enviable position. They are all provided withsmall balconies where the enormous sweep of sand or glistening ocean, according to the condition of the tides, is a sight which will drag thegreatest sluggard from his bed at the first hour of dawn. Right away downbelow are the hoary old houses of the town, hemmed in by the fortified wallthat surrounds this side of the island. Then stretching away towards thegreeny-blue coast-line is the long line of digue or causeway on which onemay see a distant puff of white smoke, betokening the arrival of the earlytrain of the morning. The attaches of the rival hotels are already awaitingthe arrival of the early batch of sight-seers. All over the delicatelytinted sands there are constantly moving shadows from the light cloudsforming over the sea, and blowing freshly from the west there comes aninvigorating breeze. 

Before even the museum can have a real interest for us, we must go back tothe early times when Mont St Michel was a bare rock; when it was not evenan island, and when the bay of Mont St Michel was covered by the forest ofScissey. 

It seems that the Romans raised a shrine to Jupiter on the rock, which soongave to it the name of Mons Jovis, afterwards to be contracted intoMont-Jou. They had displaced some earlier Druidical or othersun-worshippers who had carried on their rites at this lonely spot; but theRoman innovation soon became a thing of the past and the Franks, aftertheir conversion to Christianity, built on the rock two oratories, one toSt Stephen and the other to St Symphorian. It was then that the nameMont-Jou was abandoned in favour of Mons-Tumba. The smaller rock, now knownas Tombelaine, was called Tumbella meaning the little tomb, to distinguishit from the larger rock. It is not known why the two rocks should have beenassociated with the word tomb, and it is quite possible that the Tumba maysimply mean a small hill. 

In time, hermits came and built their cells on both the rocks and graduallya small community was formed under the Merovingian Abbey of Mandane. 

It was about this time, that is in the sixth century, that a great changecame over the surroundings of the two rocks. Hitherto, they had formedrocky excrescences at the edge of the low forest-land by which the countryadjoining the sea was covered. Gradually the sea commenced a steadyencroachment. It had been probably in progress even since Roman times, butits advance became more rapid, and after an earthquake, which occurred inthe year 709, the whole of the forest of Scissey was invaded, and theremains of the trees were buried under a great layer of sand. There wereseveral villages in this piece of country, some of whose names have beenpreserved, and these suffered complete destruction with the forest. Athousand years afterwards, following a great storm and a consequentmovement of the sand, a large number of oaks and considerable traces of thelittle village St Etienne de Paluel were laid bare. The foundations ofhouses, a well, and the font of a church were among the discoveries made. Just about the time of the innundation, we come to the interesting story ofthe holy-minded St Aubert who had been made bishop of Avranches. He couldsee the rock as it may be seen to-day, although at that time it was crownedwith no buildings visible at any distance, and the loneliness of the spotseems to have attracted him to retire thither for prayer and meditation. Heeventually raised upon the rock a small chapel which he dedicated to Michelthe archangel. After this time, all the earlier names disappeared and theisland was always known as Mont St Michel. Replacing the hermits of Mandanewith twelve canons, the establishment grew and became prosperous. That thiswas so, must be attributed largely to the astonishing miracles which weresupposed to have taken place in connection with the building of the chapel. Two great rocks near the top of the mount, which were much in the way ofthe builders, were removed and sent thundering down the rocky precipice bythe pressure of a child's foot when all the efforts of the men to inducethe rock to move had been unavailing. The huge rock so displaced is nowcrowned by the tiny chapel of St Aubert. The offerings brought by thenumerous pilgrims to Mont St Michel gave the canons sufficient means tocommence the building of an abbey, and the unique position of the rock soonmade it a refuge for the Franks of the western parts of Neustria when thefierce Norman pirates were harrying the country. In this way the village ofMont St Michel made its appearance at the foot of the rock. The contact ofthe canons with this new population brought some trouble in its wake. Theholy men became contaminated with the world, and Richard, Duke of Normandy, replaced them by thirty Benedictines brought from Mont-Cassin. These monkswere given the power of electing their own abbot who was invested with themost entire control over all the affairs of the people who dwelt upon therock. This system of popular election seems to have worked admirably, forin the centuries that followed, the rulers of the community were generallymen of remarkable character and great ideals. 

About fifty years before the Conquest of England by Duke William, the abbotof that time, Hildebert II. , commenced work on the prodigious series ofbuildings that still crown the rock. His bold scheme of building massivewalls round the highest point, in order to make a lofty platform whereon toraise a great church, was a work of such magnitude that when he wasgathered to his fathers the foundations were by no means complete. Thosewho came after him however, inspired by the great idea, kept up the work ofbuilding with wonderful enthusiasm. Slowly, year by year, the ponderouswalls of the crypts and undercrofts grew in the great space which it wasnecessary to fill. Dark, irregularly built chambers, one side formed of thesolid rock and the others composed of the almost equally massive masonry, grouped themselves round the unequal summit of the mount, until at last, towards the end of the eleventh century, the building of the nave of thechurch was actually in progress. Roger II. , the eleventh of the abbots, commenced the buildings that preceded the extraordinary structure known asLa Merveille. Soon after came Robert de Torigny, a pious man of greatlearning, who seems to have worked enthusiastically. He raised two greattowers joined by a porch, the hostelry and infirmary on the south side andother buildings on the west. Much of this work has unfortunatelydisappeared. Torigny's coffin was discovered in 1876 under the north-westpart of the great platform, and one may see a representation of thearchitect-abbot in the clever series of life-like models that have beenplaced in the museum. 

The Bretons having made a destructive attack upon the mount in the earlyyears of the thirteenth century and caused much damage to the buildings, Jourdain the abbot of that time planned out "La Merveille, " which comprisesthree storeys of the most remarkable Gothic halls. At the bottom are thecellar and almonry, then comes the Salle des Chevaliers and the dormitory, and above all are the beautiful cloisters and the refectory. Jourdain, however, only lived to see one storey completed, but his successors carriedon the work and Raoul de Villedieu finished the splendid cloister in 1228. 

Up to this time the island was defenceless, but during the abbatiate ofToustain the ramparts and fortifications were commenced. In 1256 thebuildings known as Belle-Chaise were constructed. They contained theentrance to the abbey before the chatelet made its appearance. AfterToustain came Pierre le Roy who built a tower behind Belle-Chaise and alsothe imposing-looking chatelet which contains the main entrance to the wholebuildings. The fortifications that stood outside this gateway have to someextent disappeared, but what remain are shown in the accompanyingillustration. 

In the early part of the fifteenth century, the choir of the churchcollapsed, but peace having been declared with England, soon afterwardsD'Estouteville was able to construct the wonderful foundations composed ofponderous round columns called the crypt of les Gros-Piliers, and above itthere afterwards appeared the splendid Gothic choir. The flamboyant traceryof the windows is filled with plain green leaded glass, and the fact thatthe recent restoration has left the church absolutely bare of anyecclesiastical paraphernalia gives one a splendid opportunity of studyingthis splendid work of the fifteenth century. The nave of the church hasstill to undergo the process of restoration, for at the present time thefraudulent character of its stone-vaulted roof is laid bare by the mostcasual glance, for at the unfinished edge adjoining the choir one may seethe rough lath and plaster which for a long time must have deceived thevisitors who have gazed at the lofty roof. The western end of the buildingis an eighteenth century work, although to glance at the great patches oforange-coloured lichen that spread themselves over so much of thestone-work, it would be easy to imagine that the work was of very greatantiquity. In earlier times there were some further bays belonging to thenave beyond the present west front in the space now occupied by an openplatform. There is a fine view from this position, but it is better stillif one climbs the narrow staircase from the choir leading up to theasphalted walk beneath the flying buttresses. 

About the middle of the fourteenth century, Tiphaine de Raguenel, the wifeof Bertrand du Guesclin, that splendid Breton soldier, came from Pontorsonand made her home at Mont St Michel, in order not to be kept as a prisonerby the English. There are several facts recorded that throw light on thecharacter of this noble lady, sometimes spoken of as "The Fair Maid ofDinan. " She had come to admire Du Guesclin for his prowess in militarymatters, and her feeling towards him having deepened, she had no hesitationin accepting his offer of marriage. It appears that Du Guesclin after thismost happy event--for from all we are able to discover Tiphaine seems tohave shared his patriotic ideals--was inclined to remain at home ratherthan to continue his gallant, though at times almost hopeless struggleagainst the English. Although it must have been a matter of greatself-renunciation on her part, Tiphaine felt that it would be much againsther character for her to have any share in keeping her husband away fromthe scene of action, and by every means in her power she endeavoured tore-animate his former enthusiasm. In this her success was complete, andresuming his great responsibilities in the French army, much greatersuccess attended him than at any time in the past. Du Guesclin was not amartyr, but he is as much the most striking figure of the fourteenthcentury as Joan of Arc is of the fifteenth. 

All through the period of anxiety through which the defenders of the mounthad to pass when the Hundred Years' War was in progress, Mont St Michel wasvery largely helped against sudden attacks by the remarkable vigilance oftheir great watch-dogs. So valuable for the safety of the Abbey and thelittle town were these dogs considered that Louis XI. In 1475 allowed theannual sum of twenty-four pounds by Tours-weight towards their keep. Thedocument states that "from the earliest times it has been customary to haveand nourish, at the said place, a certain number of great dogs, which aretied up by day, and at night brought outside the enclosure to keep watchtill morning. " It was during the reign of this same Louis that the militaryorder of chivalry of St Michael was instituted. The king made threepilgrimages to the mount and the first chapter of this great order, whichwas for a long time looked upon as the most distinguished in France, washeld in the Salle des Chevaliers. 

For a long while Tombelaine, which lies so close to Mont St Michel, was inthe occupation of the English, but in the account of the recovery ofNormandy from the English, written by Jacques le Bouvier, King of Arms toCharles VII. , we find that the place surrendered very easily to the French. We are told that the fortress of Tombelaine was "An exceedingly strongplace and impregnable so long as the persons within it have provisions. "The garrison numbered about a hundred men. They were allowed to go toCherbourg where they took ship to England about the same time as thegarrisons from Vire, Avranches, Coutances, and many other strongholds whichwere at this time falling like dead leaves. Le Bouvier at the end of hisaccount of this wonderful break-up of the English fighting force inNormandy, tells us that the whole of the Duchy of Normandy with all thecities, towns, and castles was brought into subjection to the King ofFrance within one year and six days. "A very wonderful thing, " he remarks, "and it plainly appears that our Lord God therein manifested His grace, fornever was so large a country conquered in so short a time, nor with theloss of so few people, nor with less injury, which is a great merit, honourand praise to the King of France. "

In the early part of the sixteenth century, Mont St Michel seems to havereached the high-water mark of its glories. After this time a declinecommenced and Cardinal le Veneur reduced the number of monks to enlarge hisown income. This new cardinal was the first of a series not chosen from theresidents on the mount, for after 1523 the system of election amongthemselves which had answered so well, was abandoned, and this wealthyestablishment became merely one of the coveted preferments of the Church. There was no longer that enthusiasm for maintaining and continuing thearchitectural achievements of the past, for this new series ofecclesiastics seemed to look upon their appointment largely as a spongewhich they might squeeze. 

In Elizabethan times Mont St Michel once more assumed the character of afortress and had to defend itself against the Huguenots when its resourceshad been drained by these worldly-minded shepherds, and it is notsurprising to find that the abbey which had withstood all the attacks ofthe English during the Hundred Years' War should often fall into the handsof the protestant armies, although in every case it was re-taken. 

A revival of the religious tone of the abbey took place early in the firstquarter of the seventeenth century, when twelve Benedictine monks from StMaur were installed in the buildings. Pilgrimages once more became theorder of the day, but since the days of Louis XI. Part of the sub-structureof the abbey buildings had been converted into fearful dungeons, and theday came when the abbey became simply a most remarkable prison. In the timeof Louis XV. , a Frenchman named Dubourg--a person who has often been spokenof as though he had been a victim of his religious convictions, but whoseems to have been really a most reprehensible character--was placed in awooden cage in one of the damp and gruesome vaults beneath the abbey. Dubourg had been arrested for his libellous writings concerning the kingand many important persons in the French court. He existed for a littleover a year in the fearful wooden cage, and just before he died he wentquite mad, being discovered during the next morning half-eaten by rats. Arealistic representation of his ghastly end is given in the museum, but onemust not imagine that the grating filling the semi-circular arch is at alllike the actual spot where the wretched man lay. The cage itself wascomposed of bars of wood placed so closely together that Dubourg was notable to put more than his fingers between them. The space inside was onlyabout eight feet high and the width was scarcely greater. The cage itselfwas placed in a position where moisture dripped on to the miserableprisoner's body, and we can only marvel that he survived this fearfultorture for so many months. During the French Revolution the abbey wasnothing more than a jail, and it continued to be devoted to this base useuntil about forty years ago. Since that time, restoration has continuedalmost unceasingly, for in the prison period nothing was done to maintainthe buildings, and there is still much work in hand which the Frenchgovernment who are now in control are most successfully carrying out. 

These are a few of the thrilling phases of the history of the rock. Butwhat has been written scarcely does the smallest justice to its crowdedpages. The only way of being fair to a spot so richly endowed withenthralling events seems to be in stirring the imagination by a preliminaryvisit, in order that one may come again armed with a close knowledge of allthat has taken place since Aubert raised his humble chapel upon the lonelyrock. Who does not know that sense of annoyance at being conducted oversome historic building by a professional guide who mentions names andevents that just whet the appetite and then leave a hungry feeling for wantof any surrounding details or contemporary events which one knows wouldconvert the mere "sight" into holy ground. I submit that a French guide, aFrench hand-book or a poor translation, can do little to relieve thishunger, that Mont St Michel is fully worthy of some preliminaryconsideration, and that it should not be treated to the contemptuous scurryof a day's trip. 

The tides that bring the sea across the great sweep of sand surroundingMont St Michel, are intermittent, and it is possible to remain for a day ortwo on the island and be able to walk around it dry-shod at any hour. It isonly at the really high tides that the waters of the Bay of Cancale givevisitors the opportunity of seeing the fantastic buildings reflected in thesea. But although it is safer and much more pleasant to be able to examineevery aspect of the rock from a boat, it is possible to walk over the sandsand get the same views provided one is aware of the dangers of thequicksands which have claimed too many victims. It is somewhat terrifyingthat on what appears to be absolutely firm sand, a few taps of the footwill convert two or three yards beneath one's feet into a quaking mass. There is, however, no great danger at the foot of the rocks orfortifications, but to wander any distance away entails the gravest risksunless in company with a native who is fully aware of any dangerouslocalities. The sands are sufficiently firm to allow those who know theroute to drive horses and carts to Tombelaine, but this should notencourage strangers to take any chances, for the fate of the English ladywho was swallowed up by the sands in sight of the ramparts and whose bodynow lies in the little churchyard of the town, is so distressing that anyrepetition of such tragedies would tend to cast a shade over the glories ofthe mount. 

You may buy among the numerous photographs and pictures for sale in thetrinket shops, coloured post-cards which show flaming sunsets behind theabbey, but nothing that I have yet seen does the smallest justice to thereality. Standing on the causeway and looking up to the great height of thetower that crowns the highest point, the gilded St Michael with hisoutspread wings seems almost ready to soar away into the immensity of thecanopy of heaven. Through the traceried windows of the chancel of thechurch, the evening light on the opposite side of the rock glows throughthe green glass, for from this position the upper windows are opposite toone another and the light passes right through the building. The great massof curiously simple yet most striking structures that girdle the summit ofthe rock and form the platform beneath the church, though built atdifferent times, have joined in one consenescence and now present theappearance of one of those cities that dwell in the imagination whenreading of "many tower'd Camelot" or the turreted walls of fairyland. Downbelow these great and inaccessible buildings comes an almost perpendiculardrop of rocks, bare except for stray patches of grass or isolated bushesthat have taken root in crevices. Then between this and the fortified wall, with its circular bastions, encircling the base of the rock, the roofs ofthe little town are huddled in picturesque confusion. The necessity ofaccommodating the modern pilgrims has unfortunately led to the erection ofone or two houses that in some measure jar with their mediaevalsurroundings. Another unwelcome note is struck by the needlessly aggressiveboard on the museum which has already been mentioned. However, when asunset is glowing behind the mount, these modern intrusions are subduedinto insignificance, and there is nothing left to disturb the harmony ofthe scene. 

A walk round the ramparts reveals an endless series of picturesquegroupings of the old houses with their time-worn stone walls, over whichtower the chatelet and La Merveille. Long flights of stone steps from thehighest part of the narrow street lead up to the main entrance of the abbeybuildings. Here, beneath the great archway of the chatelet, sits an oldblind woman who is almost as permanent a feature as the masonry on whichshe sits. Ascending the wide flight of steps, the Salle des Gardes isreached. It is in the lower portion of the building known as Belle-Chaise, mentioned earlier in this chapter. From this point a large portion of theseemingly endless series of buildings are traversed by the visitor, who isconducted by a regular guide. You ascend a great staircase, between massivestone walls spanned by two bridges, the first a strongly built structure ofstone, the next a slighter one of wood, and then reach a breezy rampartwhere great views over the distant coasts spread themselves out. From hereyou enter the church, its floor now littered with the debris ofrestoration. Then follow the cloister and the refectory, and down belowthem on the second floor of the Merveille is the Salle des Chevaliers. Besides the wonderful Gothic halls with their vaulted roofs and perfectsimplicity of design, there are the endless series of crypts and dungeons, which leave a very strong impression on the minds of all those whoseknowledge of architecture is lean. There is the shadowy crypt of Les GrosPilliers down below the chancel of the church; there is the Charnier wherethe holy men were buried in the early days of the abbey; and there is thegreat dark space filled by the enormous wheel which was worked by theprisoners when Mont St Michel was nothing more than a great jail. It was bythis means that the food for the occupants of the buildings was raised fromdown below. Without knowing it, in passing from one dark chamber toanother, the guide takes his little flock of peering and wondering visitorsall round the summit of the rock, for it is hard, even for those whoendeavour to do so, to keep the cardinal points in mind, when, except for achance view from a narrow window, there is nothing to correct theimpression that you are still on the same side of the mount as theMerveille. At last the perambulation is finished--the dazzling sunshine isonce more all around you as you come out to the steep steps that leadtowards the ramparts. 

CHAPTER VIII

Concerning Coutances and Some Parts of the Cotentin

When at last it is necessary to bid farewell to Mont St Michel, one is notcompelled to lose sight of the distant grey silhouette for a long while. Itremains in sight across the buttercup fields and sunny pastures on the roadto Pontaubault. Then again, when climbing the zig-zag hill towardsAvranches the Bay of Mont St Michel is spread out. You may see the mountagain from Avranches itself, and then if you follow the coast-road towardsGranville instead of the rather monotonous road that goes to itsdestination with the directness of a gun-shot, there are further views ofthe wonderful rock and its humble companion Tombelaine. 

Keeping along this pretty road through the little village of Genets, whereyou actually touch the ocean, there is much pretty scenery to be enjoyedall the way to the busy town of Granville. It is a watering-place and aport, the two aspects of the town being divided from each other by thegreat rocky promontory of Lihou. If one climbs up right above the placethis conformation is plainly visible, for down below is the stretch ofsandy beach, with its frailly constructed concert rooms and cafessheltering under the gaunt red cliffs, while over the shoulder of thepeninsula appears a glimpse of the piers and the masts of sailing ships. There is much that is picturesque in the seaport side of the town, particularly towards evening, when the red and green harbour-lights arereflected in the sea. There are usually five or six sailing ships loadingor discharging their cargoes by the quays, and you will generally find aBritish tramp steamer lying against one of the wharves. The sturdycrocketed spire of the sombre old church of Notre Dame stands out above thelong line of shuttered houses down by the harbour. It is a wonderfulcontrast, this old portion of Granville that surmounts the promontory, tothe ephemeral and gay aspect of the watering-place on the northern side. But these sort of contrasts are to be found elsewhere than at Granville, for at Dieppe it is much the same, although the view of that popular resortthat is most familiar in England, is the hideous casino and the wide sweepof gardens that occupy the sea-front. Those who have not been there wouldscarcely believe that the town possesses a castle perched upon toweringcliffs, or that its splendid old church of Saint-Jacques is the real gloryof the place. Granville cannot boast of quite so much in the way ofantiquities, but there is something peculiarly fascinating about its darkchurch, in which the light seems unable to penetrate, and whose wallsassume almost the same tones as the rocks from which the masonry was hewn. 

I should like to describe the scenery of the twenty miles of country thatlie between Granville and Coutances, but I have only passed over it on oneoccasion. It was nine o'clock in the evening, and the long drawn-outtwilight had nearly faded away as I climbed up the long ascent whichcommences the road to Coutances, and before I had reached the village ofBrehal it was quite dark. The road became absolutely deserted, and althoughone or two people on bicycles passed me about this time, they were carryingno lamps as is the usual custom in France, where the rules governing theuse of a _bicyclette_ are so numerous and intricate, but so absolutelyignored. My own lamp seemed to be a grave distraction among the invisibleoccupants of the roadside meadows, and often much lowing rose up on eitherside. The hedges would suddenly whirr with countless grasshoppers, although, no doubt, they had been amusing themselves with their monotonousnoises for hours. The strange sound seemed to follow me in a mostpersistent fashion, and then would be merged into the croaking of a vastassemblage of frogs. These sounds, however, carry with them no real menace, however late the hour, but there is something which may almost striketerror into the heart, though it might almost be considered foolish bythose who have not experienced a midnight ride in this country. The clippedand shaven trees that in daylight merely appear ridiculous, in the darknessassume an altogether different character. To the vivid imagination, it iseasy to see a witch's broom swaying in the wind; a group of curious anddistorted stems will suggest a row of large but painfully thin brownies, holding hands as they dance. Every moment, two or three figures of gauntand lanky witches in spreading skirts will alarm you as they suddenlyappear round a corner. When they are not so uncanny in their outlines, thetrees will appear like clipped poodles standing upon their hind legs, orthey will suddenly assume the character of a grove of palm trees. After along stretch of this sort of country, it is pleasant to pass through somesleeping village where there are just two or three lighted windows to showthat there are still a few people awake besides oneself in this lonelycountry. I can imagine that the village of Hyenville has some claims tobeauty. I know at least that it lies in a valley, watered by the riverSienne, and that the darkness allowed me to see an old stone bridge, with across raised above the centre of the parapet. Soon after this I began todescend the hill that leads into Coutances. A bend in the road, as I wasrapidly descending, brought into view a whole blaze of lights, and I feltthat here at last there were people and hotels, and an end to the ghostlysights of the open country. Then I came to houses, but they were all quitedark, and there was not a single human being in sight. Following this camea choice of streets without a possibility of knowing which one would leadin the direction of the hotel I was hoping to reach; but my perplexity wasat length relieved by the advent of a tall youth whose cadaverous featureswere shown up by the street lamp overhead. He gave his directions clearlyenough, but although I followed them carefully right up the hill past thecathedral, I began to think that I had overshot the mark, when anotherpasser-by appeared in the silent street. I found that I was within a fewyards of the hotel; but on hurrying forward, I found to my astonishment, that the whole building was completely shut up and no light appeared evenwithin the courtyard. As I had passed the cathedral eleven reverbratingnotes had echoed over the town, and it seemed as though Coutances hadretired earlier on this night of all nights in order that I might learnto travel at more rational hours. Going inside the courtyard, my anxietywas suddenly relieved by seeing the light of a candle in a stable on thefurther side; a man was putting up a horse, and he at once volunteeredto arouse some one who would find a bedroom. After some shouting to thegallery above, a maid appeared, and a few minutes afterwards mine hosthimself, clad in a long flannel night robe and protecting a flickeringcandle-flame with his hand, appeared at a doorway. His long grey beardgave him a most venerable aspect. The note of welcome in his cheeryvoice was unmistakable and soon the maid who had spoken from the balconyhad shown the way up a winding circular staircase to a welcome exchangeto the shelter of a haystack which I had begun to fear would be my onlyresting-place for the night. 

In the morning, the Hotel d'Angleterre proved to be a most picturesqueold hostelry. Galleries ran round three sides of the courtyard, and thecircular staircase was enclosed in one of those round towers that aresuch a distinctive feature of the older type of French inn. 

The long main street does not always look deserted and in daylight itappeared as sunny and cheerful as one expects to find the chiefthoroughfare of a thriving French town. Coutances stands on such a boldhill that the street, almost of necessity, drops precipitously, and thecathedral which ranks with the best in France, stands out boldly from allpoints of view. It was principally built in the thirteenth century, but achurch which had stood in its place two centuries before, had beenconsecrated by Bishop Geoffrey de Montbray in 1056, in the presence of DukeWilliam, afterwards William I. Of England. The two western towers of thepresent cathedral are not exactly similar, and owing to their curiousformation of clustered spires they are not symmetrical. It is for thisreason that they are often described as being unpleasing. I am unable toecho such criticism, for in looking at the original ideas that are mostplainly manifest in this most astonishing cathedral one seems to be inclose touch with the long forgotten builders and architects whose notionsof proportion and beauty they contrived to stamp so indelibly upon theirmasterpiece. From the central tower there is a view over an enormous sweepof country which includes a stretch of the coast, for Coutances is onlyhalf a dozen miles from the sea. This central tower rises from a squarebase at the intersection of the transepts with the nave. It runs up almostwithout a break in an octagonal form to a parapet ornamented with openquatrefoils. The interior has a clean and fresh appearance owing to therecent restorations and is chiefly remarkable for the balustraded triforiumwhich is continued round the whole church. In many of the windows there isglass belonging to the sixteenth century and some dates as early as thefourteenth century. 

Besides the cathedral, the long main street of Coutances possesses thechurches of St Nicholas and St Pierre. In St Nicholas one may see asomewhat unusual feature in the carved inscriptions dating from early inthe seventeenth century which appear on the plain round columns. Here, asin the cathedral, the idea of the balustrade under the clerestory iscarried out. The fourteen Stations of the Cross that as usual meet one inthe aisles of the nave, are in this church painted with a most unusualvividness and reality, in powerful contrast to so many of these crucifixionscenes to be seen in Roman Catholic churches. 

The church of St Pierre is illustrated here, with the cathedral beyond, butthe drawing does not include the great central tower which is crowned by apyramidal spire. This church belongs to a later period than the cathedralas one may see by a glance at the classic work in the western tower, formost of the building is subsequent to the fifteenth century. St Pierre andthe cathedral form a most interesting study in the development from EarlyFrench architecture to the Renaissance; but for picturesqueness in domesticarchitecture Coutances cannot hold up its head with Lisieux, Vire, orRouen. There is still a remnant of one of the town gateways and to thosewho spend any considerable time in the city some other quaint corners maybe found. From the western side there is a beautiful view of the town withthe great western towers of the cathedral rising gracefully above thequarries in the Bois des Vignettes. Another feature of Coutances is theaqueduct. It unfortunately does not date from Roman times when the placewas known as Constantia, for there is nothing Roman about the ivy-cladarches that cross the valley on the western side. 

From Coutances northwards to Cherbourg stretches that large tract ofNormandy which used to be known as the Cotentin. At first the country isfull of deep valleys and smiling hills covered with rich pastures andwoodland, but as you approach Lessay at the head of an inlet of the sea theroad passes over a flat heathy desert. The church at Lessay is a mostperfect example of Norman work. The situation is quite pretty, for near byflows the little river Ay, and the roofs are brilliant with orange lichen. The great square tower with its round-headed Norman windows, is crownedwith a cupola. With the exception of the windows in the north aisle thewhole of the interior is of pure Norman work. There is a double triforiumand the round, circular arches rest on ponderous pillars and there is alsoa typical Norman semi-circular apse. The village, which is a very ancientone, grew round the Benedictine convent established here by one TurstanHalduc in 1040, and there may still be seen the wonderfully picturesquecastle with its round towers. 

Following the estuary of the river from Lessay on a minor road you come tothe hamlet of St Germain-sur-Ay. The country all around is flat, but thewide stretches of sand in the inlet have some attractiveness to those whoare fond of breezy and open scenery, and the little church in the villageis as old as that of Lessay. One could follow this pretty coast-linenorthwards until the seaboard becomes bold, but we will turn aside to thelittle town of La Haye-du-Puits. There is a junction here on the railwayfor Carentan and St Lo, but the place seems to have gone on quite unalteredby this communication with the large centres of population. The remains ofthe castle, where lived during the eleventh century the Turstan Halduc justmentioned, are to be seen on the railway side of the town. The dungeontower, picturesquely smothered in ivy, is all that remains of this Normanfortress. The other portion is on the opposite side of the road, but itonly dates from the sixteenth century, when it was rebuilt. Turstan had ason named Odo, who was seneschal to William the Norman, and he is known tohave received certain important lands in Sussex as a reward for hisservices. During the next century the owner of the castle was that Richardde la Haye whose story is a most interesting one. He was escaping fromGeoffrey Plantagenet, Count of Anjou, when he had the ill luck to fall inwith some Moorish pirates by whom he was captured and kept as a slave forsome years. He however succeeded in regaining his liberty, and after hisreturn to France, he and his wife, Mathilde de Vernon, founded the Abbey ofBlanchelande. The ruins of this establishment are scarcely more than twomiles from La Haye du Puits, but they unfortunately consist of little morethan some arches of the abbey church and some of the walls of the lesserbuildings. 

Immediately north of La Haye there is some more heathy ground, but it ishigher than the country surrounding Lessay. A round windmill, muchresembling the ruined structure that stands out conspicuously on the bare tableland of Alderney, is the first of these picturesque features thatwe have seen in this part of the country. It is worth mention also onaccount of the fact that it was at St Sauveur-le-Vicomte, only about sevenmiles distant, that the first recorded windmill was put up in France aboutthe year 1180, almost the same time as the first reference to suchstructures occurs in England. St Sauveur has its castle now occupied by thehospital. It was given to Sir John Chandos by Edward III. After the Treatyof Bretigny in 1360, and that courageous soldier, who saw so much fightingin France during the Hundred Years War, added much to the fortress whichhad already been in existence since very early times in the history of theduchy. 

A road runs from St Sauveur straight towards the sea. It passes the cornerof a forest and then goes right down to the low sandy harbour of Port Bail. It is a wonderful country for atmospheric effects across the embankedswamps and sandhills that lie between the hamlet and the sea. One of thetwo churches has a bold, square tower, dating from the fifteenthcentury--it now serves as a lighthouse. The harbour has two other lightsand, although it can only be entered at certain tides, the little portcontrives to carry on a considerable export trade of farm produce, most ofit being consumed in the Channel Islands. 

The railway goes on to its terminus at Cartaret, a nicely situated littleseaside village close to the cape of the same name. Here, if you tire ofshrimping on the wide stretch of sands, it is possible to desert Normandyby the little steamer that during the summer plies between this point andGorey in Jersey. Modern influences have given Cartaret a more civilisedflavour than it had a few years ago, and it now has something of the aspectof a watering-place. Northwards from Cartaret, a road follows thecoast-line two or three miles from the cliffs to Les Pieux. Then one can goon to Flamanville by the cape which takes its name from the village, andthere see the seventeenth century moated manor house. 

Cherbourg, the greatest naval port of France, is not often visited by thosewho travel in Normandy, for with the exception of the enormous breakwater, there is nothing beyond the sights of a huge dockyard town that is of anynote. The breakwater, however, is a most remarkable work. It stands abouttwo miles from the shore, is more than 4000 yards long by 100 yards wide, and has a most formidable appearance with its circular forts and batteriesof guns. 

The church of La Trinite was built during the English occupation and musthave been barely finished before the evacuation of the place in 1450. Sincethat time the post has only been once attacked by the English, and that wasas recently as 1758, when Lord Howe destroyed and burnt the forts, shippingand naval stores. 

Leaving Cherbourg we will take our way southwards again to Valognes, a townwhich suffered terribly during the ceaseless wars between England andFrance. In 1346, Edward III. Completely destroyed the place. It wascaptured by the English seventy-one years afterwards and did not againbecome French until that remarkable year 1450, when the whole of Normandyand part of Guienne was cleared of Englishmen by the victorious Frencharmies under the Count of Clermont and the Duke of Alencon. 

The Montgommery, whose defeat at Domfront castle has already beenmentioned, held Valognes against the Catholic army, but it afterwards wascaptured by the victorious Henry of Navarre after the battle of Ivry nearEvreux. 

Valognes possesses a good museum containing many Roman relics from theneighbourhood. A short distance from the town, on the east side, lies thevillage of Alleaume where there remain the ivy-grown ruins of the castle inwhich Duke William was residing when the news was brought to him of theinsurrection of his barons under the Viscount of the Cotentin. It was atthis place that William's fool revealed to him the danger in which hestood, and it was from here that he rode in hot haste to the castle ofFalaise, a stronghold the Duke seemed to regard as safer than any other inhis possession. 

Still farther southwards lies the town of Carentan, in the centre of agreat butter-making district. It is, however, a dull place--it can scarcelybe called a city even though it possesses a cathedral. The earliest part ofthis building is the west front which is of twelfth century work. The spireof the central tower has much the same appearance as those crowning the twowestern towers at St Lo, but there is nothing about the building thatinspires any particular enthusiasm although the tracery of some of thewindows, especially of the reticulated one in the south transept, isexceptionally fine. 

CHAPTER IX

Concerning St Lo and Bayeux

The richest pasture lands occupy the great butter-making district that liesnorth of St Lo. The grass in every meadow seems to grow with particularluxuriance, and the sleepy cows that are privileged to dwell in this choicecountry, show by their complaisant expressions the satisfaction they feelwith their surroundings. It is wonderful to lie in one of these sunnypastures, when the buttercups have gilded the grass, and to watch themotionless red and white cattle as they solemnly let the hours drift pastthem. During a whole sunny afternoon, which I once spent in those pastoralsurroundings, I can scarcely remember the slightest movement taking placeamong the somnolent herd. There was a gentle breeze that made waves in thesilky sea of grass and sometimes stirred the fresh green leaves of thetrees overhead. The birds were singing sweetly, and the distant tolling ofthe cathedral bells at Carentan added a richness to the sounds of nature. Imagine this scene repeated a thousand times in every direction and youhave a good idea of this strip of pastoral Normandy. 

About four miles north of St Lo, the main road drops down into the pleasantlittle village of Pont Hebert and then passes over the Vire where it flowsthrough a lovely vale. In either direction the brimming waters of the riverglide between brilliant green meadows, and as it winds away into thedistance, the trees become more and more blue and form a charming contrastto the brighter colours near at hand. 

To come across the peasants of this pretty country in the garb one sofrequently sees depicted as the usual dress of Normandy, it is necessary tobe there on a Sunday or some fete day. On such days the wonderful frilledcaps, that stand out for quite a foot above the head, are seen on everypeasant woman. They are always of the most elaborate designs, and it isscarcely necessary to say that they are of a dazzling whiteness. The menhave their characteristic dark blue close-fitting coats and thehigh-crowned cap that being worn on week days is much more frequently inevidence than the remarkable creations worn by the womenfolk. 

There is a long climb from Pont Hebert to St Lo but there are plenty ofpretty cottages scattered along the road, and these with crimson stonecropon the roofs and may and lilac blossoming in the gardens, are pictures thatprevent you from finding the way tedious. At last, from the considerableheight you have reached, St Lo, dominated by its great church, appears on ahill scarcely a mile away. The old town, perched upon the flat surface of amass of rock with precipitous sides, has much the same position asDomfront. But here we are shut in by other hills and there is no unlimitedview of green forest-lands. The place, too, has a busy city-like aspect sothat the comparison cannot be carried very far. When you have climbed thesteep street that leads up through a quaint gateway to the extensiveplateau above, you pass through the Rue Thiers and reach one of the finestviews of the church. On one side of the street, there are picturesquehouses with tiled roofs and curiously clustered chimneys, and beyond them, across a wide gravelly space, rises the majestic bulk of the west front ofNotre Dame. From the wide flight of steps that leads to the main entrance, the eye travels upwards to the three deeply-recessed windows that occupymost of the surface of this end of the nave. Then the two great towers, seemingly similar, but really full of individual ornament, risemajestically to a height equal to that of the highest portion of the nave. Then higher still, soaring away into the blue sky above, come the enormousstone spires perforated with great multi-foiled openings all the way to theapex. Both towers belong to the fifteenth century, but they were not builtat quite the same time. In the chancel there is a double arcade of gracefulpillars without capitals. There is much fine old glass full of beautifulcolours that make a curious effect when the sunlight falls through themupon the black and white marble slabs of the floor. 

Wedged up against the north-west corner of the exterior stands acomparatively modern house, but this incongruous companionship is nostrange thing in Normandy, although, as we have seen at Falaise, there areinstances in which efforts are being made to scrape off the humble domesticarchitecture that clings, barnacle-like, upon the walls of so many of thefinest churches. On the north side of Notre Dame, there is an admirablydesigned outside pulpit with a great stone canopy overhead full ofelaborate tracery. It overhangs the pavement, and is a noticeable object asyou go towards the Place de la Prefecture. On this wide and open terrace, aband plays on Sunday evenings. There are seats under the trees by the stonebalustrade from which one may look across the roofs of the lower townfilling the space beneath. The great gravelly Place des Beaux-Regards thatruns from the western side of the church, is terminated at the very edge ofthe rocky platform, and looking over the stone parapet you see the Vireflowing a hundred feet below. This view must have been very much finerbefore warehouses and factory-like buildings came to spoil the river-sidescenery, but even now it has qualities which are unique. Facing the westend of the church, the most striking gabled front of the Maison Dieu formspart of one side of the open space. This building may at first appearalmost too richly carved and ornate to be anything but a modernreproduction of a mediaeval house, but it has been so carefully preservedthat the whole of the details of the front belong to the original time ofthe construction of the house. The lower portion is of heavy stone-work, above, the floors project one over the other, and the beauty of thetimber-framing and the leaded windows is most striking. 

St Lo teems with soldiers, and it has a town-crier who wears a dark blueuniform and carries a drum to call attention to his announcements. In thelower part of the town, in the Rue des Halles, you may find the corn-marketnow held in the church that was dedicated to Thomas a Becket. The buildingwas in course of construction when the primate happened to be at St Lo andhe was asked to name the saint to whom the church should be dedicated. Hisadvice was that they should wait until some saintly son of the churchshould die for its sake. Strangely enough he himself died for theprivileges of the church, and thus his name was given to this nowdesecrated house of God. 

The remains of the fortifications that crown the rock are scarcelynoticeable at the present time, and it is very much a matter of regret thatthe town has, with the exception of the Tour Beaux-Regards, lost the wallsand towers that witnessed so many sieges and assaults from early Normantimes right up to the days of Henry of Navarre. It was one of the townsthat was held by Geoffrey Plantagenet in Stephen's reign, and it was burntby Edward III. About the same time as Valognes. Then again in the religiouswars of the sixteenth century, a most terrific attack was made on St Lo byMatignon who overcame the resistance of the garrison after Colombieres, theleader, had been shot dead upon the ramparts. 

It is fortunate for travellers in hot weather that exactly half-way betweenSt Lo and Bayeux there lies the shade of the extensive forest of Cerisythrough which the main road cuts in a perfectly straight line. At Semillythere is a picturesque calvary. The great wooden cross towers up to aremarkable height so that the figure of our Lord is almost lost among theoverhanging trees, and down below a double flight of mossy stone stepsleads up to the little walled-in space where the wayfarer may kneel inprayer at the foot of the cross. Onward from this point, the dust and heatof the roadway can become excessive, so that when at last the shade of theforest is reached, its cool glades of slender beech-trees entice you fromthe glaring sunshine--for towards the middle of the day the roadwayreceives no suggestion of shadows from the trees on either side. 

In this part of the country, it is a common sight to meet the peasant womenriding their black donkeys with the milk cans resting in panniers on eitherside. The cans are of brass with spherical bodies and small necks, and arekept brilliantly burnished. 

The forest left behind, an extensive pottery district is passed through. The tuilleries may be seen by the roadside in nearly all the villages, Naron being entirely given up to this manufacture. Great embankments ofdark brown jars show above the hedges, and the furnaces in which theearthenware is baked, are almost as frequent as the cottages. There aresome particularly quaint, but absolutely simple patterns of narrow neckedjugs that appear for sale in some of the shops at Bayeux and Caen. 

Soon the famous Norman cathedral with its three lofty spires appearsstraight ahead. In a few minutes the narrow streets of this historic cityare entered. The place has altogether a different aspect to the busy andcheerful St Lo. The ground is almost level, it is difficult to find anyreally striking views, and we miss the atmosphere of the more favourablysituated town. Perhaps it is because of the evil influence of Caen, butcertainly Bayeux lacks the cleanliness and absence of smells thatdistinguishes Coutances and Avranches from some of the other Norman towns. It is, however, rich in carved fronts and timber-framed houses, andprobably is the nearest rival to Lisieux in these features. The visitor isinclined to imagine that he will find the tapestry for which he makes apoint of including Bayeux in his tour, at the cathedral or some buildingadjoining it, but this is not the case. It is necessary to traverse two orthree small streets to a tree-grown public square where behind a greatwooden gateway is situated the museum. As a home for such a priceless relicas this great piece of needlework, the museum seems scarcely adequate. Ithas a somewhat dusty and forlorn appearance, and although the tapestry iswell set out in a long series of glazed wooden cases, one feels that therisks of fire and other mischances are greater here than they would be werethe tapestry kept in a more modern and more fire-proof home. Queen Mathildaor whoever may have been either the actual producer or the inspirer of thetapestry must have used brilliant colours upon this great length of linen. During the nine centuries that have passed since the work was completed thelinen has assumed the colour of light brown canvas, but despite this, thegreens, blues, reds, and buffs of the stitches show out plainly against theunworked background. There is scarcely an English History without areproduction of one of the scenes portrayed in the long series of pictures, and London has in the South Kensington Museum a most carefully producedcopy of the original. Even the chapter-house of Westminster Abbey has itscoloured reproductions of the tapestry, so that it is seldom that any onegoes to Bayeux without some knowledge of the historic events portrayed inthe needlework. There are fifty-eight separate scenes on the 230 feet oflinen. They commence with Harold's instructions from Edward the Confessorto convey to William the Norman the fact that he (Harold) is to become kingof England. Then follows the whole story leading up to the flight of theEnglish at Senlac Hill. 

Even if this wonderful piece of work finds a more secure resting-place inParis, Bayeux will still attract many pilgrims for its cathedral and itsdomestic architecture compare favourably with many other Norman towns. 

The misfortunes that attended the early years of the life of the cathedralwere so numerous and consistent that the existence of the great structureto-day is almost a matter for surprise. It seems that the first church madeits appearance during the eleventh century, and it was in it that Haroldunwittingly took that sacred oath on the holy relics, but by some accidentthe church was destroyed by fire and there is probably nothing left of thisearliest building except the crypt. Eleven years after the conquest ofEngland, William was present at Bayeux when a new building built by hishalf-brother Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, was consecrated. Ten years after hisdeath, however, this second church was burnt down. They rebuilt it oncemore a few years later, but a third time a fire wrought much destruction. The portions of the cathedral that survived this century of conflagrationscan be seen in the two great western towers, in the arches of the Normannave, and a few other portions. The rest of the buildings are in the EarlyFrench period of pointed architecture, with the exception of the centraltower which is partly of the flamboyant period, but the upper portion is asmodern as the middle of last century. The spandrels of the nave arcades arecovered over with a diaper work of half a dozen or more different patterns, some of them scaly, some representing interwoven basket-work, while othersare composed simply of a series of circles, joined together with lines. There are curious little panels in each of these spandrels that are carvedwith the most quaint and curious devices. Some are strange, Chinese-lookingdragons, and some show odd-looking figures or mitred saints. The panelshowing Harold taking the oath is modern. There is a most imposing pulpitsurmounted by a canopy where a female figure seated on a globe issurrounded by cherubs, clouds (or are they rocks?) and fearful lightning. At a shrine dedicated to John the Baptist, the altar bears a painting inthe centre showing the saint's dripping head resting in the charger. Quiteclose to the west front of the cathedral there stands a house that stillbears its very tall chimney dating from mediaeval times. Not far from thisthere is one of the timber-framed fifteenth century houses ornamented withcurious carvings of small figures, and down in the Rue St Malo there is aneven richer example of the same type of building. On the other side of theroad, nearer the cathedral, a corner house stands out conspicuously. 

[Illustration: AN ANCIENT HOUSE IN THE RUE ST MALO, BAYEUX]

It is shown in the illustration given here and its curious detail makes itone of the most quaint of all the ancient houses in the city. 

Some of these old buildings date from the year 1450, when Normandy wasswept clear of the English, and it is probably owing to the considerationof the leader of the French army that there are any survivals of this time. The Lord of Montenay was leading the Duke of Alencon's troops and with himwere Pierre de Louvain, Robert Conigrain and a number of free archers. After they had battered the walls of Bayeux with their cannon for fifteendays, and after they had done much work with mines and trenches, the Frenchwere ready for an assault. The King of France, however, and the notableswho have been mentioned "had pity for the destruction of the city and wouldnot consent to the assault. " Without their orders, however, the troops, whose ardour could not be restrained, attacked in one place, but not havinghad the advice of their leaders the onslaught was quite indecisive, bothsides suffering equally from arrows and culverins. It was soon after thisthat Matthew Gough, the English leader, was obliged to surrender the city, and we are told that nine hundred of the bravest and the best soldiers ofthe Duchy of Normandy came out and were allowed to march to Cherbourg. TheFrench lords "for the honour of courtesy" lent some of their horses tocarry the ladies and the other gentlewomen, and they also supplied carts toconvey the ordinary womenfolk who went with their husbands. "It was, " saysJacques le Bouvier, who describes the scene, "a thing pitiful to behold. Some carried the smallest of the children in their arms, and some were ledby hand, and in this way the English lost possession of Bayeux. "

[Illustration: THE GATEWAY OF THE CHATEAU]

CHAPTER X

Concerning Caen and the Coast Towards Trouville

Caen, like mediaeval London, is famed for its bells and its smells. If youclimb up to any height in the town you will see at once that the place iscrowded with the spires and towers of churches; and, if you explore any ofthe streets, you are sure to discover how rudimentary are the notions ofsanitation in the historic old city. If you come to Caen determined tothoroughly examine all the churches, you must allow at least two or threedays for this purpose, for although you might endeavour to "do" the placein one single day, you would remember nothing but the fatigue, and thefeatures of all the churches would become completely confused. 

My first visit to Caen, several years ago, is associated with a day ofsight-seeing commenced at a very early hour. I had been deposited at one ofthe quays by the steamer that had started at sunrise and had slowly glidedalong the ten miles of canal from Ouistreham, reaching its destination atabout five o'clock. The town seemed thoroughly awake at this time, theweather being brilliantly fine. White-capped women were everywhere to beseen sweeping the cobbled streets with their peculiarly fragile-lookingbrooms. It was so early by the actual time, however, that it seemed wise togo straight to the hotel and to postpone the commencement of sight-seeinguntil a more rational hour. My rooms at the hotel, however, were not yetvacated, so that it was impossible to go to my bedroom till eight o'clock. The hotel courtyard, though picturesque, with its three superimposedgalleries and its cylindrical tower containing the staircase, was not, atthis hour in the morning at least, a place to linger in. It seemedtherefore the wisest plan to begin an exploration of some of the adjoiningstreets to fill the time. After having seen the exterior of three or fourchurches, the interiors of some others; after having explored a dozencurious courtyards and the upper part of the town, where the Chateaustands, the clocks began to strike seven, although to me it seemed likenoon. By half-past eight the afternoon seemed well advanced, and whendejeuner made its appearance at the hotel it seemed as though the day wouldnever cease. I had by this time seen several more churches and interestingold buildings, and my whole senses had become so jaded that I wouldscarcely have moved a yard to have seen the finest piece of architecture inthe whole of Normandy. The circumstances of this day, were, no doubt, exceptional, but I mention them as a warning to those who with a patheticconscientiousness endeavour to see far more than they can possiblycomprehend in the space of a very few hours. It would be far better tospend one's whole time in the great church of the Abbaye aux Hommes, andphotograph in one's mind the simplicity of the early Norman structure, thanto have a confused recollection of this, St Pierre, the church of theAbbaye aux Darnes and half a dozen others. 

The galleried hotel I have mentioned was known as the Hotel St Barbe. It isnow converted into a warehouse, but no one need regret this for it was morepleasant to look at than to actually stay in. I am glad, personally, tohave had this experience; to have seen the country carts, with the bluesheep-skins over the horse collars, drive into the courtyard, and to havewatched the servants of the hotel eating their meals at a long table in theopen air. There was a Spanish flavour about the place that is not found inthe modern hotels. 

There is no town I have ever known more confusing in its plan than Caen, and, although I have stayed there for nearly a week on one occasion, I amstill a little uncertain in which direction to turn for the castle when Iam at the church of St Jean. The streets, as a rule, are narrow and have abusy appearance that is noticeable after the quiet of Bayeux. The clatterand noise of the omnibuses has been subdued in recent years by theintroduction of electric trams which sweep round the corners with aterrifying speed, for after a long sojourn in the country and quiet littletowns one loses the agility and wariness of the town-bred folk. 

Caen, of course, does not compete with Lisieux for its leading position asthe possessor of the largest number of old houses, but it nevertheless canshow some quaint carved fronts in the Rue St Pierre and the narrow streetsadjoining. At the present time the marks of antiquity are being removedfrom the beautiful renaissance courtyard of the Bourse near St Pierre. Therestoration has been going on for some years, and the steps that lead up tothe entrance in one corner of the quadrangle are no longer stained with theblackish-green of a prolonged period of damp. But it is better, however, that this sixteenth century house should assume a fictitious newness ratherthan fall entirely into disrepair. It was originally the house of one ofthe wealthy families of Caen named Le Valois, and was known as the Hoteld'Escoville. Another splendid house is the Hotel de la Monnaie built by thefamous and princely merchant Etienne Duval, Sieur de Mondrainville, whosegreat wealth enabled him to get sufficient supplies into Metz to make itpossible for the place to hold out during its siege in 1553. In his mostadmirably written book "Highways and Byways in Normandy, " Mr Dearmer givesan interesting sketch of this remarkable man whose success brought himjealous enemies. They succeeded in bringing charges against him for whichhe was exiled, and at another time he was imprisoned in the castle at Caenuntil, with great difficulty, he had proved the baseness of the attacksupon his character. Duval was over seventy when he died, being, like Job, wealthy and respected, for he had survived the disasters that had fallenupon him. 

The gateway of the Chateau is the best and most imposing portion of thefortifications of Caen. The castle being now used as barracks, visitors asa rule are unable to enter, but as the gateway may be seen from outside thedeep moat, the rest of the place need not tantalise one. In William theConqueror's time the castle was being built, and the town walls includedthe two great abbeys for which Caen is chiefly famous. These twomagnificent examples of Norman architecture have been restored with greatthoroughness so that the marks of antiquity that one might expect areentirely wanting in both buildings. The exterior of the great church of StEtienne disappoints so many, largely from the fact that the gaunt westfront is the only view one really has of the building except from adistance. Inside, services seem to go on at most times of the day, and whenyou are quietly looking at the mighty nave with its plain, semicirculararches and massive piers, you are suddenly startled by the entry fromsomewhere of a procession of priests loudly singing some awe-inspiringchant, the guttural tones of the singers echoing through the aisles. Following the clerical party will come a rabble of nuns, children andordinary laity, and before you have scarcely had time to think a servicehas commenced, people are kneeling, and if you do not make haste towardsthe doors a priest will probably succeed in reaching you with a collectingdish in which one is not inclined to place even a sou if the service hashindered the exploration of the church. Owing to the perpetuation of anerror in some of the English guides to Normandy, it is often thought that athigh-bone of the founder of the abbey is still lying beneath the marbleslab in the sanctuary, but this is a great mistake, for that last poorrelic of William the Conqueror was lost during the Revolution. The wholestory of the death, the burial, and the destruction of the tomb and remainsof the founder of the abbey are most miserable and even gruesome. Williamwas at Rouen when he died, and we need scarcely remind ourselves of thattragic scene discovered by the clergy when they came to the house not longafter the great man had expired. Every one of William's suite hadimmediately recognised the changed state of affairs now that the inflexiblewill that had controlled the two kingdoms had been removed, and each, concerned for himself, had betaken himself with indecent haste to Englandor wherever his presence might be most opportune. In this way, there beingno one left to watch the corpse, the Archbishop of Rouen discovered thatthe house and even the bed had been pillaged, so that the royal body waslying in great disorder until reverently tended by a Norman gentleman namedHerluin. Having fulfilled William's wishes and brought the remains to Caen, a stately funeral was arranged. As the procession slowly passed through thenarrow streets, however, it was interrupted by an alarm of fire-some of thewooden houses blazing fiercely just when the bier was passing. The flamesgrew so quickly that in some danger the mournful procession was dispersedand the coffin was only attended by a few monks when the gates of theAbbaye aux Hommes were reached. Eventually the burial ceremonies were inprogress beside the open grave within the church, but another interruptionensued. Scarcely had the Bishop of Evreux concluded his address wheneverybody was startled at hearing the loud voice of Ascelin resoundingthrough the church. He was a well-known man, a burgher, and a possessor ofconsiderable wealth, and it was therefore with considerable anxiety thatthe clergy heard his claim upon the ground in which they were about to buryWilliam. It was the actual site of a house that had belonged to Ascelin'sfather, for the dead king had shown no consideration to private claims whenhe was building the great abbey to appease the wrath of the church. Thedisturbance having been settled by the payment for the grave of a sum whichAscelin was induced to accept, the proceedings were resumed. But then camethe worst scene of all, for it has been recorded that the coffin containingthe ponderous body of the king had not been made with sufficient strength, and as it was being lowered into the grave, the boards gave way, and sogruesome was the result that the church was soon emptied. It thus cameabout that once more in the last phase of all William was deserted exceptby a few monks. 

The monument which was raised over the Conqueror's grave, was, however, ofa most gorgeous character. It was literally encrusted with precious gems, and it is known that enormous quantities of gold from the accumulatedstores of wealth which William had made were used by Otto the goldsmith(sometimes known as Aurifaber) who was entrusted with the production ofthis most princely tomb. Such a striking object as this could scarcely passthrough many centuries in safety, and we find that in the Huguenot wars ofthe seventeenth century it was largely destroyed and the stone coffin wasbroken open, the bones being scattered. We only know what became of athigh-bone which was somehow rescued by a monk belonging to the abbey. Hekept it for some time, and in 1642 it was replaced in a new, but much lessgorgeous tomb. About one hundred years later, it was moved to another partof the church, but in the Revolution this third tomb was broken into, andthe last relic of the Conqueror was lost. Then after some years, the Prefetof Calvados placed upon the site of the desecrated tomb the slab of blackmarble that still marks the spot. The inscription reads "Hic sepultus est, Invictissimus Guielmus Conquestor, Normanniae Dux et Angliae Rex, Hujuscedomus Conditor Qui obit anno MLXXXVII. "

When Lanfranc had been sent to the Pope by William with a view to makingsome arrangement by which the King could retain his wife Matilda and at thesame time the good offices of the Church, his side of the bargain consistedin undertaking to build two great abbeys at Caen, one for men and one forwomen. The first we have already been examining, the other is at theeastern side of the town on the hill beyond the castle. It is a morecompletely Norman building than St Etienne, but its simple, semi-circulararches and round-headed windows contrast strangely with the huge pontificalcanopy of draped velvet that is suspended above the altar, and veryeffectually blocks the view of the Norman apse beyond. The smallness of thewindows throughout the building subdues the light within, and thus gives StTrinite a somewhat different character to St Etienne. The capitals of thepiers of the arcade are carved with strange-looking monkeys and otherdesigns, and there are chevron mouldings conspicuous in the nave. The tombof Queen Mathilda is in the choir. Like that of her husband it has beendisturbed more than once, so that the marble slab on top is all thatremains of the original. 

Opposite the Place Reine Mathilde stands the desecrated church of StGilles, one of the numerous beautiful buildings in Caen now in partial ruinand occupied as warehouses, wine-vaults or workshops. They are all worthlooking for, and if possible examining inside as well as out, for theyinclude some beautiful flamboyant structures and others of earlier date, such as St Nicholas, illustrated here, which in part dates from Normantimes. St Etienne le Vieux, quite close to the Abbaye aux Hommes, is abeautiful building rich in elaborate carving and rows of gargoyles. It wasbuilt in the early years of the fifteenth century in place of one which hadfallen into ruin when Henry V. Besieged Caen. It is still unrestored, andif you peep inside the open doors you will see the interior filled withladders, boxes, brooms, and a thousand odds and ends, this most beautifulstructure being used as a municipal workshop. 

We have more than once referred to the church of St Pierre, but as yet wehave made no reference to its architecture. The tower and graceful spireneeds no detailed description, for it appears in the coloured illustrationadjoining, and from it one may see what a strikingly perfect structure thisis for such an early date as 1308. It is a marvel of construction, for thespire within is hollow, and without any interior framework or supports atall. Although it is so seemingly frail, it was used during the sixteenthcentury for military purposes, having been selected as a good position forfiring upon the castle, and it naturally became a target for the gunsinside the fortress. You cannot now see the holes made by the cannon balls, but although they were not repaired for many years the tower remainedperfectly stable, as a proof of the excellent work of Nicholas, theEnglishman who built it. 

Unlike the church of the Abbaye aux Dames, St Pierre is brilliantly litinside by large, traceried windows that let in the light through theirpainted glass. In the nave the roof is covered with the most elaboratevaulting with great pendants dropping from the centre of each section; butfor the most crowded ornament one must examine the chancel and the chapels. 

The church of St Jean is not conspicuous, but it is notable for two orthree features. The western tower is six and a half feet out ofperpendicular, the triforium has a noticeable balustrade running all round, and the chancel is longer than the nave. St Sauveur, in the Rue St Pierreis of the same period as St Jean, but its tower if it had been crocketedwould have very closely resembled that of St Pierre, and it is chieflynotable for the fact that it is two churches thrown into one--that of StEustace being joined on to it. 

Another feature of Caen that is often overlooked is the charm of its oldcourtyards. Behind some of the rather plain stone fronts, the archways leadinto little paved quadrangles that have curious well-heads, rustic outsidestaircases, and odd-shaped dormer windows on the steep roofs. One of thesecourtyards behind a house in the Rue de Bayeux is illustrated here, but todo justice to the quaintnesses that are to be revealed, it would have beennecessary to give several examples. In the Boulevard St Pierre, where thepavements are shaded by pink horse chestnuts there stands the Tour le Roy. It is the most noticeable remnant of the days when Caen was a walled andstrongly fortified city, but as you look at it to-day it seems too muchlike a good piece of the sham antique to be found at large exhibitions. Itis the restoration that is at fault, and not the tower itself, which isreally old, and no doubt is in quiet rebellion at the false complexion itis obliged to wear. 

The view of Caen from across the race-course is a beautiful one, but undersome aspects this is quite eclipsed by the wonderful groupings of thechurch towers seen from the canal as it goes out of the town towards theeast. I can remember one particular afternoon when there was a curiousmistiness through which the western sunlight passed, turning everythinginto a strange, dull gold. It was a light that suppressed all that wascrude and commercial near at hand and emphasised the medievalism of theplace by throwing out spires and towers in softly tinted silhouettes. Ilove to think of Caen robed in this cloth of gold, and the best I can wishfor every one who goes there with the proper motives, is that they may seethe place in that same light. 

On the left, a few miles out of Caen on the road to Creully, stands theAbbaye d'Ardennes where Charles VII. Lodged when his army was besiegingthe city in 1450. The buildings are now used as a farm, and the churchis generally stacked with hay and straw up to the triforium. 

Although they start towards the east, the canal and the river Ornetaking parallel courses run generally towards the north, both enteringthe sea by the village of Ouistreham, the ancient port of Caen. Alongthe margin of the canal there is a good road, and almost hidden by thelong grass outside the tall trees that line the canal on each bank, runs the steam tramway to Cabourg and the coast to the west of theOrne. Except when the fussy little piece of machinery drawing three orfour curious, open-sided trams, is actually passing, the tramwayescapes notice, for the ground is level and the miniature rails arelaid on the ground without any excavating or embanking. The scenery asyou go along the tramway, the road, or the canal, is charming, thepastures on either side being exceedingly rich, and the red and whitecattle seem to revel in the long grass and buttercups. Heronville, Blainville and other sleepy villages are pleasantly perched on theslight rise on the western side of the canal. Their churches, with redroofs all subdued with lichen into the softest browns, rise above thecottages or farm buildings that surround them in the ideal fashion thatis finally repeated at Ouistreham where locks impound the waters of thecanal, and a great lighthouse stands out more conspicuously than thechurch tower. Seen through the framework of closely trimmed treesOuistreham makes a notable picture. The great Norman church is soexceedingly imposing for such a mere village, that it is easy tounderstand how, as a port in the Middle Ages, Ouistreham flourishedexceedingly. 

The tramway crosses the canal at Benouville on its way to Cabourg, andleaving the shade of birches and poplars takes its way over the open fieldstowards the sea. Benouville is best remembered on account of its bigchateau with a great classic portico much resembling a section of WaterlooPlace perched upon a fine terraced slope. Ranville has an old church towerstanding in lonely fashion by itself, and you pass a conspicuous calvary asyou go on to the curious little seaside resort known as Le Home-Sur-Mer. The houses are bare and (if one may coin a word) seasidey. Perched here andthere on the sandy ridge between the road and the shore, they have scarcelyanything more to suggest a garden than the thin wiry grass that contrivesto exist in such soil. 

Down on the wide sandy beach there is an extensive sweep of the coast to beseen stretching from beyond Ouistreham to the bold cliffs of Le Havre. Keeping along the road by the tramway you have been out of sight of thesea, but in a few minutes the pleasant leafiness of Cabourg has beenreached. Here everything has the full flavour of a seaside resort, for wefind a casino, a long esplanade, hotels, shops and bathing apparatus. It isa somewhat strong dose of modern life after the slumbering old world townsand villages we have been exploring, and it is therefore with greatsatisfaction that we turn toward the village of Dives lying close at hand. The place possesses a splendid old market hall, more striking perhaps thanthat of Ecouche and a picturesque inn--the Hotel Guillaume le Conquerant. The building is of stone with tiled roofs, and in the two courtyards thereare galleries and much ancient timber-framing, but unfortunately theproprietor has not been content to preserve the place in its naturalpicturesqueness. He has crowded the exterior, as well as the rooms, with athousand additions of a meretricious character which detract very much fromthe charm of the fine old inn and defeat the owner's object, that of makingit attractive on account of its age and associations. Madame de Sevignewrote many of her letters in one of the rooms, but we know that she sawnone of the sham antique lamps, the well-head, or the excess of flowersthat blaze in the courtyards. On account of its name, the unwary aretrapped into thinking that William the Norman--for he had still to defeatHarold--could have frequently been seen strolling about this hostelry, whenhis forces for invading England were gathering and his fleet of ships werebuilding. This is, of course, a total misapprehension, for the onlystructure that contains anything that dates back to 1066 is the church. Even this building dates chiefly from the fourteenth century, but there isto be seen, besides the Norman walls, a carved wooden cross that isbelieved to have been found in the sea, and therefore to have someconnection with William's great fleet and its momentous voyage to England. The names of the leading men who accompanied William are engraved upon twomarble slabs inside the church, and on the hill above the village a shortcolumn put up by M. De Caumont, commemorates the site upon which William isbelieved to have inspected his forces previous to their embarkation. 

It is a difficult matter to form any clear idea of the size of this armyfor the estimates vary from 67, 000 to 14, 000, and there is also muchuncertainty as to the number of ships employed in transporting the hostacross the channel. The lowest estimates suggest 696 vessels, and there isevery reason to believe that they were quite small. The building of solarge a fleet of even small boats between the winter and summer of 1066must have employed an enormous crowd of men, and we may be justified inpicturing a very busy scene on the shores of this portion of the coast ofNormandy. Duke William's ship, which was named the _Mora_, had beenpresented to him by his wife Mathilda, and most of the vessels had beenbuilt and manned by the Norman barons and prelates, the Bishop of Bayeuxpreparing no less than a hundred ships. The Conquest of England must havealmost been regarded as a holy crusade!

When the fleet left the mouth of the river Dives it did not make at oncefor Pevensey Bay. The ships instead worked along the coast eastwards to theSomme, where they waited until a south wind blew, then the vessels all leftthe estuary each carrying a light, for it was almost dark. By the nextmorning the white chalk of Beachy Head was in sight, and at nine o'clockWilliam had landed on English soil. 

Close to Dives and in sight of the hill on which the Normans weremustered, there is a small watering-place known as Houlgate-sur-mer. Thehouses are charmingly situated among trees, and the place has in recentyears become known as one of those quiet resorts where princes andprincesses with their families may be seen enjoying the simple pleasuresof the seaside, _incognito_. This fact, of course, gets known toenterprising journalists who come down and photograph these members of theEuropean royal families wherever they can get them in particularlyunconventional surroundings. 

From Houlgate all the way to Trouville the country is wooded and hilly, andin the hollows, where the timber-framed farms with their thatched roofs arepicturesquely arranged, there is much to attract the visitor who, wearyingof the gaiety of Trouville and its imitators along the coast, wishes tofind solitudes and natural surroundings. 

CHAPTER XI

Some Notes on the History of Normandy

The early inhabitants of Normandy submitted to the Roman legions underTiturus Sabinus in B. C. 58, only a few years before Caesar's first attemptupon Britain. By their repeated attacks upon Roman territory the Gaulishtribes had brought upon themselves the invasion which, after some stubbornfighting, made their country a province of the Roman Empire. Inter-tribalstrife having now ceased, the civilisation of Rome made its way all overthe country including that northern portion known as Neustria, much ofwhich from the days of Rollo came to be called Normandy. Traces of theRoman occupation are scattered all over the province, the most remarkablebeing the finely preserved theatre at Lillebonne, a corruption ofJuliabona, mentioned in another chapter. 

In the second century Rouen, under its Roman name Rotomagos, is mentionedby Ptolemy. It was then merely the capital of the tribe of Velocasses, butin Diocletian's reign it had become not only the port of Roman Paris, butalso the most important town in the province. In time the position occupiedby Rotomagos became recognised as one having greater strategical advantagesthan Juliabona, a little further down the river, and this Gallo-Romanprecursor of the modern Rouen became the headquarters of the provincialgovernor. The site of Rotomagos would appear to include the Palais deJustice and the Cathedral of the present day. 

After the four centuries of Roman rule came the incursions of the savagehordes of northern Europe, and of the great army of Huns, under Attila, whomarched through Gaul in A. D. 451. The Romans with their auxiliaries engagedAttila at Chalons--the battle in which fabulous numbers of men are said tohave fallen on both sides. 

The Roman power was soon completely withdrawn from Gaul, and the Franksunder Clovis, after the battle of Soissons, made themselves completemasters of the country. In 511 Clovis died. He had embraced Christianityfifteen years before, having been baptised at Rheims, probably throughthe influence of his wife Clothilda. Then for two hundred and fiftyyears France was under the Merovingian kings, and throughout much ofthis period there was very little settled government, Neustria, togetherwith the rest of France, suffering from the lawlessness that prevailedunder these "sluggard" kings. Rouen was still the centre of many of theevents connected with the history of Neustria. We know something of thestory of Hilparik, a king of Neustria, whose brutal behaviour to hisvarious queens and the numerous murders and revenges that darkened hisreign, form a most unsavoury chapter in the story of this portion ofFrance. 

Following this period came the time when France was ruled by the mayorsof the palace who, owing to the weakness of the sovereigns, graduallyassumed the whole of the royal power. After Charles Martel, the mostfamous of these mayors, had defeated the Saracens at Tours, came his sonPepin-le-Bref, the father of Charlemagne. Childeric, the last of theMerovingian kings, had been put out of the way in a monastery and Pepinhad become the King of France. Charlemagne, however, soon made himselfgreater still as Emperor of an enormous portion of Europe--France, Italy, and Germany all coming under his rule. At his death Charlemagnedivided his empire. His successor Louis le Debonnaire, owing to hiseasy-going weakness, fell a prey to Charlemagne's other sons, and at hisdeath, Charles the Bald became King of France and the country west ofthe Rhine. The other portions of the empire falling to Lothaire and theyounger Louis. 

During all this period, France had suffered from endless fighting and thefamines that came as an unevitable consequence, and just about this timeNeustria suffered still further owing to the incursions of the Danes. Evenin Charlemagne's time the black-sailed ships of the Northmen had been seenhovering along the coast near the mouth of the Seine, and it has been saidthat the great Emperor wept at the sight of some of these awe-inspiringpirates. 

In the year 841 the Northmen had sailed up the Seine as far as Rouen, butthey found little to plunder, for during the reign of the Merovingiankings, the town had been reduced to a mere shadow of its former prosperity. There had been a great fire and a great plague, and its ruin had beenrendered complete during the civil strife that succeeded the death ofCharlemagne. Wave after wave came the northern invasions led by such men asBjorn Ironside, and Ragnar Lodbrog. Charles the Bald, fearing to meet thesedreaded warriors, bribed them away from the walls of Paris in the year 875. But they came again twelve years afterwards in search of more of theFrenchmen's gold. When Charles the Fat, the German Emperor, became alsoKing of France, he had to suffer for his treacherous murder of a Danishchief, for soon afterwards came the great Rollo with a large fleet ofgalleys, and Paris was besieged once more. Odo, Count of Paris, held outsuccessfully, but when the king came from Germany with his army, instead ofattacking the Danes, he induced them to retire by offering them a bribe of800 lbs. Of silver. Before long Odo became King of France, but after tenyears of constant fighting, he died and was succeeded by Charles theSimple. This title does an injustice to his character, for he certainly didmore for France than most of his predecessors. Finding the Northmen toofirmly established in Neustria to have any hope of successfully drivingthem out of the country, he made a statesmanlike arrangement with Rollo. The Dane was to do homage to the French king, to abandon his gods Thor, Odin and the rest for Christianity, and in return was to be made ruler ofthe country between the River Epte and the sea, and westwards as far as theborders of Brittany Rollo was also to be given the hand of the PrincessGisela in marriage. Rouen became the capital of the new Duchy of Normandy, and the old name of Neustria disappeared. 

The Northmen were not at this time numerous, but they continued to comeover in considerable numbers establishing centres such as that of Bayeux, where only Danish was spoken. As in England, this warrior people showed themost astonishing adaptability to the higher civilisation with which theyhad come into contact, and the new generations that sprang up on Frenchsoil added to the vigour and daring of their ancestors the manners andadvanced customs of France, although the Northmen continued to be called"The Pirates" for a considerable time. When Rollo died he was succeeded byhis son William Longsword, and from an incident mentioned by Mr T. A. Cookin his "Story of Rouen, " we can see the attitude of the Normans towardsCharles the Simple. He had sent down to Rouen two court gallants tosympathise with the Princess Gisela, his daughter, for the rough treatmentshe had received at the hands of Rollo, but they were both promptly siezedand hanged in what is now the Place du Marche Vieux. 

Great stone castles were beginning to appear at all the chief places inNormandy, and when Duke Richard had succeeded Harold Blacktooth we findthat the Duchy was assuming an ordered existence internally. The feudalsystem had then reached its fullest development, and the laws establishedby Rollo were properly administered. With the accession of Hugh Capet tothe throne of France, Normandy had become a most loyal as well as powerfulfief of the crown. The tenth century witnessed also an attempt on the partof the serfs of the Duchy to throw off something of the awful grip of thefeudal power. These peasants were the descendants of Celts, of Romans, andof Franks, and their efforts to form a representative assembly bear apathetic resemblance to the movement towards a similar end in Russia ofto-day. The representatives of the serfs were treated with the most fearfulcruelty and sent back to their villages; but the movement did not fail tohave its effects, for the condition of the villains in Normandy was alwaysbetter than in other parts of France. 

Broadly speaking, all the successors of Rollo, the first Duke of Normandy, governed the country with wisdom and ability, and although there was moreor less constant war, either with the French, who were always hoping toregain the lost province, or with rebellious barons who disputed theauthority of the dukes, yet the country progressed steadily and becameprosperous. Abbeys and churches that the invaders had laid waste wererebuilt on a larger scale. At Jumieges there are still to be seen someremains of the church that William Longsword began to build for theunfortunate monks who had been left homeless after their abbey had beendestroyed by the "Pirates. " Richard I. , who died in 996, had added to theCathedral at Rouen, and the abbey of St Ouen prospered greatly in thereligious revival that became so widespread during the eleventh century. Duke Richard II. Had been assisted on one occasion by Olaf, King of Norway, and before his return to the north that monarch, impressed no doubt by thepomp of the ceremonial, was in 1004 baptised in the cathedral at Rouen. 

After Richard II. Came Robert the Magnificent, who was called alsoRobert the Devil by the people. It was he, who from the walls of hiscastle at Falaise, if the legend be true, first saw Arlette the tanner'sdaughter who afterwards became the Mother of William the Bastard. As aboy William had a perilous life, and it is almost marvellous that hesurvived to change his appellation to that of "Conqueror. " Robert theMagnificent had joined one of the crusades to the Holy Land when Williamwas only seven years old, but before he left Normandy, he had made itknown that he wished the boy to succeed him. For twenty years there wascivil war between the greater barons and the supporters of the heir, butin the end William showed himself sufficiently strong to establish hispower. He won a great battle at Val-es-Dunes where he had been met bythe barons led by Guy of Burgundy, and, having taken some of the mostformidable fortresses in the Duchy, he turned his attention to his foesoutside with equal success. Soon after this William married Mathilda adaughter of Count Baldwin of Flanders, but although by this act he madepeace with her country, William soon found himself in trouble with thechurch. Bishop Mauger, whom he had appointed to the See of Rouen, foundfault with the marriage owing to its being within the forbidden degreesof relationship, and the papal sanction having been refused, Williamonly obtained his wishes through the agency of Lanfranc. All his lifeWilliam appears to have set a stern example of purity in family life, and his relations with the church, from this time to his death, seem tohave been most friendly. It was largely due to his religious life aswell as the support he gave to the monasteries that William was able togive the colour of a religious crusade to his project for invadingEngland. Harold had slighted the sacredness of the holy relics of thesaints of Normandy, and William was to show England that their king'saction was not to pass unpunished. In this way the Norman host thatassembled at Dives, while the great fleet was being prepared, includedmany who came from outside William's dominions. After the whole ofEngland had been completely subjugated William had his time andattention largely taken up with affairs in Normandy. His son Robert wassoon in open rebellion, and assisted by the French King, Philip I. , Robert brought about the death of his father, for it was whiledevastating a portion of French territory that William received theinjury which resulted in his death. Robert then became Duke of Normandy, and there followed those sanguinary quarrels between the three brothersWilliam Rufus, King of England, Henry Beauclerc and Robert. Finally, after his return from Palestine, Robert came to England to endeavour tomake peace with his younger brother Henry, who was now king, but thequarrel was not to be settled in this way. Henry, determined to addNormandy to the English crown, crossed the channel with a large army anddefeated his brother at Tinchebrai in 1106. With the accession ofStephen to the English throne in 1135, came the long struggle betweenthat king and Maud. When Henry II. Married Eleanor of Aquitaine, notonly that great province but also Maine and Anjou came under his sway, so that for a time Normandy was only a portion of the huge section ofFrance belonging to the English Crown. During his long reign Henry spentmuch time in Normandy, and Argentan and Avranches are memorable inconnection with the tragedy of Thomas a Becket. During the absence ofRichard Coeur-de-Lion in Palestine John became exceedingly friendly withPhilip Augustus, the French King, but when Richard was dead he foundcause to quarrel with the new English king and, after the fall of theChateau Gaillard, John soon discovered that he had lost the Duchy ofNormandy and had earned for himself the name of "Lackland. "

From this time, namely, the commencement of the thirteenth century, Normandy belonged to the crown of France although English armies were, until 1450, in frequent occupation of the larger towns and fortresses.