territory known by that appellation was limited to the Pays de Caux and
the Vexin: the former occupying the line of sea-coast from the Brêle to
the Seine, together with the governments of Eu and Havre and the Pays de
Brai; the latter comprising the Roumois, and the French as well as the
Norman Vexin. All these territorial divisions have, indeed, been
obliterated by the state-geographers of the revolution; and Normandy,
time-honored Normandy herself, has disappeared from the map of the
dominions of the French king. The ancient duchy is severed into the five
departments of the Seine Inférieure, the Eure, the Orne, Calvados, and
the Manche. These are the only denominations known to the government or
to the law, yet they are scarcely received in common parlance. The
people still speak of Normandy, and they still take a pleasure in
considering themselves as Normans: and, I too, can share in their
attachment to a name, which transmits the remembrance of actual
sovereignty and departed glory.
Until the re-union of feudal Normandy to the crown of its liege lord,
the duke was one of the twelve peers of the kingdom; and to his hands
that kingdom entrusted the sacred Oriflamme, as often as it was
expedient to unfurl it in war. Normandy also contained several titular
duchies, ancient fiefs held of the King as Duke of Normandy, but which,
out of favour to their owners, were "erected," as the French lawyers
say, into duchies, after the province had reverted to the crown. This
erection, however, gave but a title to the noble owner, without
increasing his territorial privileges; nor could any of our Richards, or
our Henries, have allowed a liege man to write himself duke, like his
proud feudal suzerein. The recent duchies were Alençon, Aumale,
Harcourt, Damville, Elbeuf, Etouteville, and Longueville, and three of
them were included in the Pays de Gaux, the inhabitants of which, from
the titles connected with it, were accustomed to dignify it with the
epithet of _noble_. Their claim to the epithet is thus given by an
ancient Norman poet of the fifteenth century; and if, according to the
old tradition, which Voltaire has bantered with his usually incredulity,
we could admit that Yvetot was ever really a kingdom, it must be allowed
that few provinces could produce such a titled terrier:
"Au noble Pays de Caux
Y a quatre Abbayes royaux,
Six Prieurés conventionaux,
Et six Barons de grand arroi,
Quatre Comtes, trois Ducs, un Roi."
The soil of the district is generally rich; but the farmers frequently
suffer from drought, especially in its western part, where they are
obliged almost constantly to have recourse to artifical irrigation. The
houses and villages are all surrounded with hedges, thickly planted, and
each village is also belted in the same manner. These inclosures, which
are peculiar to the Pays de Caux, give a monotonous appearance to the
landscape, but they are highly beneficial, for they break the force of
the winds, and furnish the inhabitants with fuel. If my memory does not
deceive me, the towns either of the ancient Gauls or Teutons, are
described as being thus encompassed in primitive times; but I cannot
name my authorities for the assertion.
St. Vallery, the first stage beyond Dieppe, is situated in a valley; and
there is an obscure tradition that this valley was once watered by a
river, which disappeared some centuries ago. It is conjectured, from the
name of the town, that it claims an origin as high as the seventh
century, when the disciples of St. Vallery were obliged to quit their
original monastery and take refuge elsewhere. Yet, according to other
authorities[26], it did not receive its present appellation till 1197,
when Richard Coeur de Lion, after having destroyed the town and abbey of
St. Vallery sur Somme, carried off the relics of the patron saint, and
deposited them in this town. My reporters tell me that it has an air of
antiquity and gloom, but that it contains nothing worthy of notice
except a crucifix in the churchyard, of stone, richly wrought, dated
1575, and a _bénitier_ of such simple form and rude workmanship, as to
appear of considerable antiquity. The place itself is only a wretched
residence for four or five thousand fishermen; but still it has a
name[27] in history. Hence William sailed for the conquest of England;
and its harbor, all poor and small as it is, has always been considered
of importance to the country; there being no other between Havre and
Dieppe capable of affording shelter to vessels of even a moderate size.
The road to Fécamp passes through the little town of Cany, situated in a
beautiful valley; and there my family met the Archbishop of Rouen, who,
at this moment, is in progress through his diocese, for the purpose of
confirmation. The approach of his eminence gave the appearance of a fair
to every village: young and old of both sexes were collected in the
highways to welcome the prelate. He travelled in considerable state,
attended by a military escort of twenty men; and arrayed in the scarlet
robe of a Roman Cardinal, with the brilliant "decoration" of the Legion
of Honor conspicuous upon his breast. For the archbishop is a grand
officer of that brotherhood of bastard chivalry; and this ornament,
conjoined to his train of whiskered warriors, seemed to render him a
very type of the church militant. His eminence is extremely bulky; and
my pilgrims were wicked enough to be much amused by the oddity of his
pomp and pride. Nor did the postillion spare his facetiousness on the
occasion; for you are aware that in France, as in most other parts of
the continent, the servile classes use a degree of familiarity in their
intercourse with their betters, to which we are little accustomed in
England, and which has given rise to the Italian proverb, that "Il
Francese è fedele, l'Italiano rispettoso, l'Inglese schiavo[28]."
Throughout this part of France, large flocks of sheep are commonly seen
in the vicinity of the sea, and, as the pastures are uninclosed, they
are all regularly guarded by a shepherd and his black dog, whose
activity cannot fail to be a subject of admiration. He is always on the
alert and attentive to his business, skirting his flock to keep them
from straggling, and that, apparently, without any directions from his
master. In the night they are folded upon the ploughed land; and the
shepherd lodges, like a Tartar in his _kibitka_, in a small cart roofed
and fitted up with doors.
Fécamp, like other towns in the neighborhood, is imbedded in a deep
valley; and the road, on approaching it, threads through an opening
between hills "stern and wild," a tract of "brown heath and shaggy
wood," resembling many parts of Scotland. The town is long and
straggling, the streets steep and crooked; its inhabitants, according to
the official account of the population of France, amount to seven
thousand, and the number of its houses is estimated at thirteen hundred,
besides above a third of that quantity which are deserted, and more or
less in ruins[29].
Fécamp appeared desolate and decaying to its visitors, but they
recollected that its very desolation was a voucher of the antiquity from
which it derives its interest. It claims an origin as high as the days
of Cæsar, when it was called _Fisci Campus_, being the station where
the tribute was collected.
It is in vain, however, to expect concord amongst etymologists; and, of
course, there are other right learned wights who protest against this
derivation. They shake their heads and say, "no; you must trace the
name, Fécamp, to _Fici Campus_;" and they strengthen their assertion by
a sort of _argumentum ad ecclesiam_, maintaining that the _precious
blood_, for which Fécamp was long celebrated, corroborates and confirms
their tale. A chapel in the abbey church attests the sanctity of this
relic. The legend states that Nicodemus, at the time of the entombment
of our Saviour, collected in a phial the blood from his wounds, and
bequeathed it to his nephew, Isaac; who afterwards, making a tour
through Gaul, stopped in the Pays de Caux, and buried the phial at the
root of a fig-tree[30].
Nor is this the only miracle connected with the church. The monkish
historians descant with florid eloquence upon the white stag, which
pointed out to Duke Ansegirus the spot where the edifice was to be
erected; the mystic knife, inscribed "in nomine sanctæ et individuæ
trinitatis," thus declaring to whom the building should be dedicated;
and the roof, which, though prepared for a distant edifice, felt that it
would be best at Fécamp, and actually, of its own accord, undertook a
voyage by sea, and landed, without the displacing of a single nail, upon
the sea-coast near the town. All these _contes dévots_, and many others,
you will find recorded in the _Neustria Pia_[31]. I will only detain you
with a few words more upon the subject of the _precious blood_, a matter
too important to be thus hastily dismissed. It was placed here by Duke
Richard I.; but was lost in the course of a long and turbulent period,
and was not found again till the year 1171, when it was discovered
within the substance of a column built in the wall. Two little tubes of
lead originally contained the treasure; but these were soon inclosed in
two others of a more precious metal, and the whole was laid at the
bottom of a box of gilt silver, placed in a beautiful pyramidical
shrine. Thus protected, it was, before the revolution, fastened to one
of the pillars of the choir, behind a trellis-work of copper, and was an
object of general adoration. I know not what has since become of it;
but, as they are now managing these matters better in France, we may
safely calculate upon the speedy reappearance of the relic. Nor must you
refer this legend to the many which protestant incredulity is too apt to
class with the idle tales of all ages, the
"... quicquid Græcia mendax
Audet in historiâ;"
for no less grave an authority than the faculty of theology at Paris
determined, by a formal decree of the 28th of May, 1448, that this
worship was very proper; for that, to use their words, "Non repugnat
pietati fidelium credere quòd aliquid de sanguine Christi effuso tempore
passionis remanserit in terris."
The abbey, to which Fécamp was indebted for all its greatness and
celebrity, was founded in 664[32] for a community of nuns, by Waning,
the count or governor of the Pays de Caux, a nobleman who had already
contributed to the endowment of the Monastery of St. Wandrille. St.
Ouen, Bishop of Rouen, dedicated the church in the presence of King
Clotaire; and, so rapidly did the fame of the sanctity of the abbey
extend, that the number of its inmates amounted in a very short period
to three hundred or more. The arrival, however, of the Normans, under
Hastings, in 841, caused the dispersion of the nuns; and the same story
is related of the few who remained at Fécamp, as of many others under
similar circumstances, that they voluntarily cut off their noses and
their lips, rather than be an object of attraction to the lust of their
conquerors. The abbey, in return for their heroism, was levelled with
the ground, and it did not rise from its ashes till the year 988, when
the piety of Duke Richard I. built the church anew, under the auspices
of his son, Robert, Archbishop of Rouen; but, departing from the
original foundation, he established therein a chapter of regular canons,
who, however, were so irregular in their conduct, that within ten years
they were doomed to give way to a body of Benedictine Monks, headed by
an Abbot, named William, from a convent at Dijon. From his time the
monastery continued to increase in splendor. Three suffragan abbies,
that of Notre Dame at Bernay, of St. Taurin at Evreux, and of Ste.
Berthe de Blangi, in the diocese of Boullogne, owned the superior power
of the abbot of Fécamp, and supplied the three mitres which he proudly
bore on his abbatial shield. Kings and princes in former ages frequently
paid the abbey the homage of their worship and their gifts; and, in a
period nearer to our own, Casimir of Poland, after his voluntary
abdication of the throne, selected it as the spot in which he sought for
repose, when wearied with the cares of royalty. The English possessions
of Fécamp (for like most of the great Norman abbeys, it held lands in
our island) do not appear to have been large; but, according to an
author of our own country[33] the abbot presented to one hundred and
thirty benefices, some in the diocese of Rouen, others in those of
Bayeux, Lisieux, Coutances, Chartres, and Beauvais; and it enjoyed so
many estates, that its income was said to be forty thousand crowns per
annum. Fécamp moreover could boast of a noble library, well stored with
manuscripts[34], and containing among its archives many original
charters, deeds, &c. of William the Conqueror, and several of his
successors.
This magnificent church is three hundred and seventy feet long and
seventy high; the transept, including the Chapel of the Precious Blood,
one hundred and twenty feet long; the tower two hundred feet high. A
portion of it was burned in 1460, but soon repaired. William de Ros,
third abbot, rebuilt all the upper part in a better taste, and enlarged
the nave, which was not finished till 1200. A successor of his at the
beginning of the next century completed the chapels round the choir. The
screen was begun by one of the monks about 1500, who erected the chapel
dedicated to the death of the Virgin, a master-piece of architecture and
adorned with historical carving. The cloister was built so late as 1712.
Cathedral service was performed in the church, in which were the tombs
of the first and second of the Richards of Normandy; of Richard, infant
son of the former, and of William, third son of the latter; of Margaret,
betrothed to Robert, son of William the Conqueror, who died 1060; of
Alard, third Earl of Bretagne, 1040; of Archbishop Osmond, and of a
Lady Judith, whose jingling epitaph has given rise to a variety of
conjectures, whether she was the wife of Duke Richard IInd, or his
daughter, or some other person.--
"Illa solo sociata, mariti at jure soluta,
Judita judicio justificata jacet;
Et quæ, dante Deo, sed judice justificante,
Primo jus subiit sed modò jura regit."
As to Duke Richard Ist, he caused a sarcophagus of stone to be made and
placed within this church; and so long as he lived, it was filled with
wheat on every Friday, and the grain, together with five shillings,
distributed weekly among the poor. And when his death approached, he
expressly charged his successor, "Bury not my body within the church,
but deposit it on the outside, immediately under the eaves, that the
dripping of the rain from the holy roof may wash my bones as I lie, and
may cleanse them of the spots of impurity contracted during a negligent
and neglected life."
Our party could not ascertain whether any of the historical monuments
were yet in existence. The church, at the time they were there, was
wholly occupied with preparations for the approaching confirmation.
Young girls in their best dresses, all in white, and holding tapers in
their hands, filled the nave, while the chapels were crowded with
individuals at prayer, or still more with females waiting for an
opportunity of confessing themselves, previously to receiving the
expected absolution from the archbishop. Under such circumstances
nothing could be examined; but there appeared to be in the chapels five
or six fine, though mutilated, altar tombs: to whom, however, they
belonged, or what was their actual state, it was impossible to tell.
Accompanying them are also some curious pieces of sculpture. For the
same reason no farther remark could be made upon the interior of the
building, except that its architecture is imposing, and its roof,
supported by tall clustered pillars, has much the general effect of the
nave of our cathedral at Norwich, one of the purest specimens of Norman
architecture in England. Externally the tower is handsome, and of nearly
the earliest pointed style; not altogether so, as its arches, though
narrow, contain each a double arch within. The rest of the building
seems to have suffered much from alterations and dilapidation; and
whatever tracery there may have been originally has disappeared from the
windows; nor are there saints or even niches remaining above the doors.
The exterior of the church of St. Etienne, one of the ten parochial
churches of Fécamp, before the revolution, is considerably more
imposing; but upon this I will not detain you, as you will see it
engraved in Mr. Cotman's _Architectural Antiquities of Normandy_, from a
sketch taken by him last year.
Henry IInd, of England, made a donation of the town to the abbey, whose
seignorial jurisdiction also extended over many other parishes, as well
in this as in the adjoining dioceses. Its exclusive privileges were
likewise ample. Under the first and second race, Fécamp was the seat of
government of the Pays de Caux, and the residence of the counts of the
district: it was also a residence of the Norman Dukes. Their castle was
rebuilt by William Longue-Epeé, with a degree of magnificence which is
said to have been extraordinary. This duke took particular pleasure in
the place, and he and his immediate successors frequently lived here.
But the palace has long since disappeared[35]: the continual increase of
the monastic buildings gradually occupied its place; and they, in their
turn, are now experiencing the revolutions of fortune, the inhabitants
being at this very time actively employed in their demolition.
The town is at present wholly supported by the fisheries, in which are
employed about fourteen hundred sailors[36]. The herrings of Fécamp have
always had the same high character in France, as those of Lowestoft and
Yarmouth in England. The armorial lion of our own town ends, as you
know, with the tail of a herring; and I really have been often inclined
to affix the same appendage to the rump of the lion of Normandy. You are
not much of an epicure, nor are you very likely to search in the
_Almanach des Gourmands_ for dainties; if you did, you would probably
find there the following proverb, which has existed since the thirteenth
century,--
"Aloses de Bourdeaux;
Esturgeons de Blaye;
Congres de la Rochelle;
Harengs de Fécamp;
Saumons de Loire;
Sêches de Coutances."
The fortifications of Fécamp are destroyed; but, upon the cliffs which
command the town, there still remain some slight vestiges of a fort,
erected in the time of Henry IVth, when the inhabitants espoused the
party of the league. The capture of this fort was one of those gallant
exploits which the historian delights in recording; and it is detailed
at great length in Sully's Memoirs[37].
From Fécamp to Havre the country is well wooded, and much applied to the
cultivation of flax, which flourishes in this neighborhood, and has
given rise to considerable linen manufactories. The trees look well in
masses, but individually they are trimmed into ugliness. Near Havre the
road goes through Montivilliers, and, still nearer, through Harfleur.
The first of these is, like Fécamp, a place of antiquity, and derived
its name[38] and importance from a monastery which was founded at the
end of the seventh century. Its history is headed by the chapter which
begins the records of most of the ecclesiastical foundations of the
duchy: when the invading heathen Normans reached Montivilliers, it
shared the common fate of destruction, and when they withdrew, the
common piety recalled it to existence. Richard IInd bestowed it upon
Fécamp, but the same sovereign restored it to its independence, at the
request of his aunt, Beatrice, who retired hither as abbess, at the head
of a community of nuns. A convent, over which an abbess of royal blood
had presided, could not fail to enjoy considerable privileges; and it
retained them to the period of the revolution. The tower of the church
still remains, a noble specimen of the Norman architecture of the
eleventh century, at which period the building is known to have been
erected. The rest of the edifice, though handsome as a whole, is the
work of different æras. The archives of the monastery furnish an account
of large sums expended in additions and alterations in the years 1370
and 1513. The interior contains some elegant stone fillagree-work in the
form of a small gallery or pulpit, attached to the west end near the
roof, and probably intended to receive a band of singers on high
festivals. A gallery of a similar nature, but of wood, and to which the
foregoing purpose was assigned by the learned wight, John Carter, is yet
remaining at the north-west corner of Westminster Abbey. You and I, who
are sadly inclined to admire ugliness and antiquity, would have been
better pleased with the capitals of the pillars, which are evidently
coeval with the tower. Drawings were made of some of these capitals, and
I have selected two which appeared to be the most singular.
[Illustration: Capital with angel]
In this you observe an angel weighing the good works of the deceased
against his evil deeds; and, as the former are far exceeding the
avoirdupois upon which Satan is to found his claim, he is endeavoring
most unfairly to depress the scale with his two-pronged fork.
This allegory is of frequent occurrence in the monkish legends.--The
saint, who was aware of the frauds of the fiend, resolved to hold the
balance himself.--He began by throwing in a pilgrimage to a miraculous
virgin.--The devil pulled out an assignation with some fair mortal
Madonna, who had ceased to be immaculate.--The saint laid in the scale
the sackcloth and ashes of the penitent of Lenten-time.--Satan answered
the deposit by the vizard and leafy-robe of the masker of the
carnival.--Thus did they still continue equally interchanging the
sorrows of godliness with the sweets of sin, and still the saint was
distressed beyond compare, by observing that the scale of the wicked
thing (wise men call him the correcting principle,) always seemed the
heaviest. Almost did he despair of his client's salvation, when he
luckily saw eight little jetty black claws just hooking and clenching
over the rim of the golden basin. The claws at once betrayed the craft
of the cloven foot. Old Nick had put a little cunning young devil under
the balance, who, following the dictates of his senior, kept clinging to
the scale, and swaying it down with all his might and main. The saint
sent the imp to his proper place in a moment, and instantly the burthen
of transgression was seen to kick the beam.
Painters and sculptors also often introduced this ancient allegory of
the balance of good and evil, in their representations of the last
judgment: it was even employed by Lucas Kranach.
The other capital which I send to you is ornamented with groups of
Centaurs or Sagittaries. Astronomical sculptures are frequently found
upon the monuments of the middle ages. Two capitals, forming part of a
series of zodiacal sculptures, are preserved in the _Musée des Monumens
Français_; and, speaking from memory, I think they bear a near
resemblance in style to that which is here represented.
[Illustration: Capital with Centaurs or Sagittaries]
Montivilliers itself is a neat little town, beautifully situated in a
valley, with a stream of clear water running through it. At this time
its trade is trifling; but the case was otherwise in former days, when
its cloths were considered to rival those of Flanders, and the
preservation of the manufacture was regarded of so much consequence,
that sundry regulations respecting it are to be found in the royal
ordinances. One of them in particular, of the fourteenth century,
notices the frauds committed by other towns in imitating the mark of the
cloth of Montivilliers.
The general appearance of Harfleur is much like that of Montivilliers;
but numerous remains of walls and gates denote that it was once of
still greater comparative importance. The ancient trade of the place is
now transferred to Havre de Grace, the situation of the latter town
being far more elegible.