VISIT NEAR ST. LOUP. M. PLUQUET, APOTHECARY AND BOOK-VENDER. VISIT TO THE
BISHOP. THE CHAPTER LIBRARY. DESCRIPTION OF THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY. TRADE AND
MANUFACTURE.
Well, my good friend! the stranger has been visited: his library inspected:
his services accepted: and his character partly unfolded. To this I must
add, in the joy of my heart, (as indeed I mentioned slightly in my last)
that both the Chapter LIBRARY and the famous TAPESTRY have been explored
and examined in a manner, I trust, worthy of British curiosity. I hardly
know what sort of order to adopt in this my second and last epistle from
Bayeux; which will be semi-bibliomaniacal and semi-archaeological: and sit
down, almost at random, to impart such intelligence as my journal and my
memory supply.
The last was almost a purely _ecclesiastical_ dispatch: as I generally
first take off my cap to the towers and turrets of a cathedral. Now then
for THE STRANGER! ... for it would be cruel to prolong the agony of
expectation. Mr. Lewis having occupied himself, almost exclusively, with
his pencil during the whole morning, I persuaded him to accompany me to
_St. Loup_. After dinner we set out upon our expedition. It had rained in
the interim, and every tree was charged with moisture as we passed them ...
their blossoms exhaling sweets of the most pungent fragrance. The road ran
in a straight line from the west front of the cathedral, which, on turning
round, as we saw it irradiated by partial glimpses of sunshine, between
masses of dark clouds, assumed a very imposing and venerable aspect. I
should tell you, however, that the obliging Monsieur ---- came himself to
the Hôtel de Luxembourg, to conduct us to his humble abode: for "humble" it
is in every sense of the word. About two-thirds of the way thither, we
passed the little church of _St. Loup_: a perfect Gothic toy of the XIIth
century--with the prettiest, best-proportioned tower that can be
imagined.[141] It has a few slight clustered columns at the four angles,
but its height and breadth are truly pigmy. The stone is of a whitish grey.
We did not enter; and with difficulty could trace our way to examine the
exterior through the high grass of the church yard, yet _laid_ with the
heavy rain. What a gem would the pencil of BLORE make of this tiny,
ancient, interesting edifice! At length we struck off, down a lane slippery
with moisture--when, opening a large swinging gate--"here (exclaimed our
guide)--lived and died my father, and here his son hopes to live and die
also. Gentlemen, yonder is my hermitage." It was a retirement of the most
secluded kind: absolutely surrounded by trees, shrubs, hay-stacks, and
corn-stacks--for Monsieur ---- hath a fancy for farming as well as for
reading. The stair-case, though constructed of good hard Norman stone, was
much worn in the middle from the frequent tread of half a century. It was
also fatiguingly steep, but luckily it was short. We followed our guide to
the left, where, passing through one boudoir-like apartment, strewn with
books and papers, and hung with a parcel of mean ornaments called
_pictures_, we entered a second--of which portions of the wainscoat were
taken away, to shew the books which were deposited behind. Row after row,
and pile upon pile, struck my wondering eye. Anon, a closet was opened--and
there again they were stowed, "thick and threefold." A few small busts, and
fractured vases, were meant to grace a table in the centre of the room. Of
the books, it is but justice to say that _rarity_ had been sacrificed to
_utility_. There were some excellent, choice, critical works; a good deal
of Latin; some Greek, and a sprinkle of Hebrew--for Monsieur ---- is both a
general and a sound scholar. On pointing to _Houbigant's Hebrew Bible_, in
four folio volumes, 1753, "do you think this copy dear at fourteen francs?"
said he!--"How, Sir," (replied I, in an exstacy of astonishment)--you mean
to say fourteen _louis_?" "Not at all, Sir. I purchased it at the price
just mentioned, nor do I think it too dear at that sum"--resumed he, in the
most unsuspecting manner. I then told him, as a sort of balsamic
consolation, that a late friend (I alluded to poor Mr. Ormerod) rejoiced on
giving £12. for a copy by no means superior. "Ah, le bon Dieu!...." was his
only observation thereupon.
When about to return to the boudoir, through which we had entered, I
observed with mingled surprise and pleasure, the four prettily executed
English prints, after the drawings of the present Lady Spencer, called
"_New Shoes"--"Nice Supper_" &c. Monsieur ---- was pleased at my stopping
to survey them. "Ce sont là, Monsieur (observed he), les dames qui me font
toujours compagnie:"--nor can you conceive the very soft and gentlemanly
manner, accompanied by a voice subdued even to sadness of tone, with which
he made this, and almost every observation. I found, indeed, from the whole
tenor of his discourse, that he had a mind in no ordinary a state of
cultivation: and on observing that a great portion of his library was
THEOLOGICAL, I asked him respecting the general subjects upon which he
thought and wrote. He caught hold of my left arm, and stooping (for he is
much taller than myself, ... which he easily may be, methinks I hear you
add...) "Sir, said he, I am by profession a clergyman ... although now I am
designated as an _ex-Curé_. I have lived through the Revolution... and may
have partaken of some of its irregularities, rather, I should hope than of
its atrocities. In the general hue-and-cry for reform, I thought that our
church was capable of very great improvement, and I think so still. The
part I took was influenced by conscientious motives, rather than by a blind
and vehement love of reform;... but it has never been forgiven or
forgotten. The established clergy of the place do not associate with me;
but I care not a farthing for that--since I have here (pointing to his
books) the very best society in the world. It was from the persuasion of
the clergy having a constantly-fixed eye upon me, that I told you I was
watched ... when walking near the precincts of the cathedral. I had been
seeking you during the whole of the office of ordination." In reply to my
question about his _archaeological_ researches, he said he was then
occupied in writing a disquisition upon the _Bayeux Tapestry_, in which he
should prove that the Abbé de la Rue was wrong in considering it as a
performance of the XIIth century. "He is your great antiquarian
oracle"--observed I. "He has an over-rated reputation"--replied he--"and
besides, he is too hypothetical." Monsieur ---- promised to send me a copy
of his dissertation, when printed; and then let our friend N---- be judge
"in the matter of the Bayeux Tapestry." From the open windows of this
hermitage, into which the branches absolutely thrust themselves, I essayed,
but in vain, to survey the surrounding country; and concluded a visit of
nearly two hours, in a manner the most gratifying imaginable to honest
feelings. A melancholy, mysterious air, seemed yet, however, to mark this
amiable stranger, which had not been quite cleared up by the account he had
given of himself. "Be assured (said he, at parting) that I will see you
again, and that every facility shall be afforded you in the examination of
the Bayeux Tapestry. I have an uncle who is an efficient member of the
corporation."
On my way homeward from this ramble, I called again upon M. Pluquet, an
apothecary by profession, but a book lover and a book vender[142] in his
heart. The scene was rather singular. Below, was his _Pharmacopeia_; above
were his bed-room and books; with a broken antique or two, in the
court-yard, and in the passage leading to it. My first visit had been
hasty, and only as a whetter to the second. Yet I contrived to see from a
visitor, who was present, the desirable MS. of the vulgar poetry of OLIVIER
BASSELIN, of which I made mention to M.----. The same stranger was again
present. We all quietly left the drugs below for drugs of a different
description above--books being called by the ancients, you know, the
"MEDICINE OF THE SOUL." We mounted into the bed-room. M. Pluquet now opened
his bibliomaniacal battery upon us. "Gentlemen you see, in this room, all
the treasures in the world I possess: my wife--my child--my books--my
antiquities. "Yes, gentlemen, these are my treasures. I am enthusiastic,
even to madness, in the respective pursuits into which the latter branch
out; but my means are slender--and my aversion to my _business_ is just
about in proportion to my fondness for _books_. Examine, gentlemen, and try
your fortunes."
I scarcely needed such a rhetorical incitement: but alas! the treasures of
M. Pluquet were not of a nature quite to make one's fortune. I contrived,
with great difficulty, to pick out something of a _recherché_ kind; and
expended a napoleon upon some scarce little grammatical tracts, chiefly
Greek, printed by Stephen at Paris, and by Hervagius at Basil: among the
latter was the _Bellum grammaticale_ of E. Hessus. M. Pluquet wondered at
my rejecting the folios, and sticking so closely to the duodecimos; but had
he shewn me a good _Verard Romance_ or a _Eustace Froissart_, he would have
found me as alert in running away with the one as the other. I think he is
really the most enthusiastic book-lover I have ever seen: certainly as a
Bibliopolist. We concluded a very animated conversation on all sides: and
upon the whole, this was one of the most variously and satisfactorily spent
days of my "voyage bibliographique."
On the morrow, the mysterious and amiable M. ---- was with me betimes. He
said he had brought a _basket of books_, from his hermitage, which he had
left at a friend's house, and he entreated me to come and examine them. In
the mean while, I had had not only a peep at the Tapestry, but an
introduction to the mayor, who is chief magistrate for life: a very Cæsar
in miniature. He received me stiffly, and appeared at first rather a
priggish sort of a gentleman; observing that "my countryman, Mr.
STOTHARD,[143] had been already there for six months, upon the same errand,
and what could I want further?" A short reply served to convince him "that
it would be no abuse of an extended indulgence if he would allow another
English artist to make a fac-simile of a different description, from a very
small portion only."[144]
I now called upon the Abbé Fétit, with a view to gain admission to the
_Chapter Library_, but he was from home--dining with the Bishop. In
consequence, I went to the palace, and wrote a note in pencil to the Bishop
at the porter's lodge, mentioning the name of M. Lair, and the object of my
visit. The porter observed that they had just sat down to dinner--but would
I call at three? It seemed an age to that hour; but at length three o'clock
came, and I was punctual to the minute. I was immediately admitted into the
premises, and even the large mastiff seemed to know that I was not an
unexpected visitor--for he neither growled, nor betrayed any symptoms of
uneasiness. In my way to the audience chamber I saw the crosier and robes
which the Bishop had worn the preceding day, at the ceremony of ordination,
lying picturesquely upon the table. The audience chamber was rather
elegant, adorned with Gobeleins tapestry, quite fresh, and tolerably
expressive: and while my eyes were fastened upon two figures enacting the
parts of an Arcadian shepherd and shepherdess, a servant came in and
announced the approach of MONSEIGNEUR l'EVEQUE. I rose in a trice to meet
him, between doubt and apprehension as to the result. The Bishop entered
with a sort of body-guard; being surrounded by six or seven canons who had
been dining with him, and who peeped at me over his shoulder in a very
significant manner. The flush of good cheer was visible in their
countenances--but for their Diocesan, I must say that he is even more
interesting on a familiar view. He wore a close purple dress, buttoned down
the middle from top to bottom. A cross hung upon his breast. His
countenance had lost nothing of its expression by the absence of the mitre,
and he was gracious even to loquacity. I am willing to hope that I was
equally prudent and brief in the specification of the object I had in view.
My request was as promptly as it was courteously granted. "You will excuse
my attending you in person; (said the Bishop) but I will instantly send for
the Abbé Fétit, who is our librarian; and who will have nothing to do but
to wait upon you, and facilitate your researches." He then dispatched a
messenger for the Abbé Fétit, who quickly arrived with two more trotting
after him--and enlivened by the jingling music of the library keys, which
were dangling from the Abbé's fingers, I quickened my steps towards the
Chapter Library.
We were no sooner fairly within the library, than I requested my chief
conductor to give me a brief outline of its history. "Willingly" he
replied. "This library, the remains of a magnificent collection, of from
30, to 40,000 volumes, was originally placed in the Chapter-house, hard by.
Look through the window to your left, and you will observe the ruins of
that building. We have here about 5000 volumes: but the original collection
consisted of the united libraries of defunct, and even of living,
clergymen--for, during the revolution, the clergy, residing both in town
and country, conveyed their libraries to the Chapter-house, as a protection
against private pillage. Well! in that same Chapter-house, the books, thus
collected, were piled one upon another, in layers, flat upon the
floor--reaching absolutely, to the cieling ... and for ten long years not a
creature ventured to introduce a key into the library door. The windows
also were rigidly kept shut. At length the Revolutionists wanted lead for
musket balls, and they unroofed the chapter-house with their usual
dexterity. Down came the rain upon the poor books, in consequence; and when
M. Moysant received the orders of government to examine this library, and
to take away as many books as he wanted for the public library at Caen...
he was absolutely horror-struck by the obstacles which presented
themselves. From the close confinement of every door and window, for ten
years, the rank and fetid odour which issued, was intolerable. For a full
fortnight every door and window was left open for ventilation, ere M.
Moysant could begin his work of selection. He selected about 5000 volumes
only; but the infuriated Revolutionists, on his departure, wantonly
plundered and destroyed a prodigious number of the remainder ... "et enfin
(concluded he) vous voyez, Monsieur, ce qu'ils nous out laissé." You will
give me credit for having listened to every word of such a tale.
The present library, which is on the first floor, is apparently about
twenty-five feet square. The Abbé made me observe the XIIIth. volume of the
_Gallia Christiana_,[145] in boards, remarking that "it was of excessive
rarity;" but I doubt this. On shewing me the famous volume of _Sanctius_ or
_Sanches de Matrimonio Sacramentario_, 1607, folio, the Abbé
observed--"that the author wrote it, standing with his bare feet upon
marble." I was well pleased with a pretty _illuminated ms. Missal_, in a
large thick quarto volume, with borders and pictures in good condition; but
did not fail to commend right heartily the proper bibliomaniacal spirit of
M. Fétit in having kept concealed the second volume of _Gering's Latin
Bible_--being the first impression of the sacred text in France--when M.
Moysant came armed with full powers to carry off what treasures he pleased.
No one knows what has become of the first volume, but this second is
cruelly imperfect--it is otherwise a fair copy. Upon the whole, although it
is almost a matter of _conscience_, as well as of character, with me, to
examine every thing in the shape of a library, and especially of a public
one, yet it must be admitted that the collection under consideration is
hardly worthy of a second visit: and accordingly I took both a first and a
final view of it.
From the Chapter I went to the COLLEGE LIBRARY. In other words, there is a
fine public school, or Lycée, or college, where a great number of lads and
young men are educated "according to art." The building is extensive and
well-situated: the play-ground is large and commodious; and there is a
well-cultivated garden "tempting with forbidden fruit." Into this garden I
strolled in search of the President of the College, who was not within
doors. I found him in company with some of the masters, and with several
young men either playing, or about to play, at skittles. On communicating
the object of my visit, he granted me an immediate passport to the
library--"mais, Monsieur, (added he) ce n'est rien: il y avoit autrefois
_quelque chose_: maintenant, ce n'est qu'un amas de livres très
communs." I thanked him, and accompanied the librarian to the Library;
who absolutely apologized all the way for the little entertainment I
should receive. There was indeed little enough. The room may be about
eighteen feet square. Of the books, a great portion was in vellum
bindings, in wretched condition. Here was _Jay's Polyglot_, and the
matrimonial _Sanctius_ again! There was a very respectable sprinkling of
_Spanish and French Dictionaries_; some few not wholly undesirable
_Alduses_; and the rare Louvain edition of _Sir Thomas More's Works_,
printed in 1566, folio.[146] I saw too, with horror-mingled regret, a
frightfully imperfect copy of the _Service of Bayeux Cathedral_, printed
in the Gothic letter, UPON VELLUM. But the great curiosity is a small
brass or bronze crucifix, about nine inches high, standing upon the
mantlepiece; very ancient, from the character of the crown, which
savours of the latter period of Roman art--and which is the only crown,
bereft of thorns, that I ever saw upon the head of our Saviour so
represented. The eyes appear to be formed of a bright brown glass. Upon
the whole, as this is not a book, nor a fragment of an old illumination,
I will say nothing more about its age. I was scarcely three quarters of
an hour in the library; but was fully sensible of the politeness of my
attendant, and of the truth of his prediction, that I should receive
little entertainment from an examination of the books.
It is high time that you should be introduced in proper form to the famous
BAYEUX TAPESTRY. Know then, in as few words as possible, that this
celebrated piece of Tapestry represents chiefly the INVASION OF ENGLAND by
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, and the subsequent death of Harold at the battle of
Hastings. It measures about 214 English feet in length, by about nineteen
inches in width; and is supposed to have been worked under the particular
superintendance and direction of Matilda, the wife of the Conqueror. It was
formerly exclusively kept and exhibited in the Cathedral; but it is now
justly retained in the Town Hall, and treasured as the most precious relic
among the archives of the city. There is indeed every reason to consider it
as one of the most valuable historical monuments which France possesses. It
has also given rise to a great deal of archaeological discussion.
Montfaucon, Ducarel, and De La Rue, have come forward successively--but
more especially the first and last: and Montfaucon in particular has
favoured the world with copper-plate representations of the whole.
Montfaucon's plates are generally much too small: and the more enlarged
ones are too ornamental. It is right, first of all, that you should have an
idea how this piece of tapestry is preserved, or rolled up. You see it
here, therefore, precisely as it appears after the person who shews it,
takes off the cloth with which it is usually covered.
[Illustration]
The first portion of the needle-work, representing the embassy of Harold,
from Edward the Confessor to William Duke of Normandy, is comparatively
much defaced--that is to say, the stitches are worn away, and little more
than the ground, or fine close linen cloth, remains. It is not far from the
beginning--and where the colour is fresh, and the stitches are,
comparatively, preserved--that you observe the PORTRAIT OF HAROLD.[147]
You are to understand that the stitches, if they may be so called, are
threads laid side by side--and bound down at intervals by cross stitches,
or fastenings--upon rather a fine linen cloth; and that the parts intended
to represent _flesh_ are left untouched by the needle. I obtained a few
straggling shreds of the _worsted_ with which it is Worked. The colours are
generally a faded or bluish green, crimson, and pink. About the last five
feet of this extraordinary roll are in a yet more decayed and imperfect
state than the first portion. But the designer of the subject, whoever he
was, had an eye throughout to Roman art--as it appeared in its later
stages. The folds of the draperies, and the proportions of the figures, are
executed with this feeling.
I must observe that, both at top and at bottom of the principal subject,
there is a running allegorical ornament;[148] of which I will not incur the
presumption to suppose myself a successful interpreter. The constellations,
and the symbols of agriculture and of rural occupation, form the chief
subjects of this running ornament. All the inscriptions are executed in
capital letters of about an inch in length; and upon the whole, whether
this extraordinary and invaluable relic be of the latter end of the XIth,
or of the beginning or middle of the XIIth century[149] seems to me a
matter of rather a secondary consideration. That it is at once _unique_ and
important, must be considered as a position to be neither doubted nor
denied, I have learnt, even here, of what importance this tapestry-roll was
considered in the time of Bonaparte's threatened invasion of our country:
and that, after displaying it at Paris for two or three months, to awaken
the curiosity and excite the love of conquest among the citizens, it was
conveyed to one or two _sea-port_ towns, and exhibited upon the stage as a
most important _materiel_ in dramatic effect.[150]
I think you have now had a pretty good share of Bayeux intelligence; only
that I ought not to close my despatches without a word or two relating to
habits, manners, trade, and population. This will scarcely occupy a page.
The men and women here are thoroughly Norman. Stout bodies, plump
countenances, wooden shoes, and the cauchoise--even to exceedingly _tall
copies_ of the latter! The population may run hard upon ten thousand. The
chief articles of commerce are _butter_ and _lace_. Of the former, there
are two sorts: one, delicate and well flavoured, is made during winter and
spring; put up into small pots, and carried from hence in huge paniers, not
only to all the immediately adjacent parts of the country, but even to
Paris--and is shipped in large quantities for the colonies. They have made
as much as 120,000 lb. weight each season; but _Isigny_, a neighbouring
village, is rather the chief place for its production. The other sort of
butter, which is eaten by the common people, and which in fact is made
throughout the whole of Lower Normandy, (the very butter, in short, in
which the huge _alose_ was floating in the pot of the lively cuisiniere at
Duclair[151]) is also chiefly made at Isigny; but instead of a delicate
tint, and a fine flavour, it is very much the contrary: and the mode of
making and transporting it accords with its qualities. It is salted, and
packed in large pots, and even barrels, for the sake of exportation; and
not less than 50,000 lb. weight is made each week. The whole profit arising
from butter has been estimated at not less than two millions of francs: add
to which, the circulation of specie kept up by the payment of the workmen,
and the purchase of salt. As to _lace_, there are scarcely fewer than three
thousand females constantly employed in the manufacture of that article.
The mechanics here, at least some of them, are equally civil and ingenious.
In a shop, in the high or principal street, I saw an active carpenter, who
had lost the fore finger of his right hand, hard at work--alternately
whistling and singing--over a pretty piece of ornamental furniture in wood.
It was the full face of a female, with closely curled hair over the
forehead, surmounted by a wreath of flowers, having side curls, necklace,
and platted hair. The whole was carved in beech, and the form and
expression of the countenance were equally correct and pleasing. This merry
fellow had a man or two under him, but he worked double tides, compared
with his dependants. I interrupted him singing a French air, perfectly
characteristic of the taste of his country. The title and song were thus: