Du Guesclin, after he recovered his liberty, was destined, three years

later, to be a second time the prisoner of the English at Navarrete, when

the Black Prince replaced on his throne the cruel, perfidious Don Pedro.

When Sir Hugh Calverley asked for the freedom of Du Guesclin, he was met

by the reply, "Il ne faut pas lâcher ce dogue de Bretagne, si fatal aux

Anglais." It was represented to the Black Prince that report ascribed his

detention to fear or jealousy; upon which he sent for Du Guesclin, who

told him he was tired of listening to the squeaking of the mice in his

prison, and longed to hear the nightingales of Brittany. He named his own

ransom at 100,000 florins, the Black Prince reduced it to 60,000; and the

Princess of Wales contributed 20,000. It was paid by Charles V. "Had it

been ten millions," says his biographer, "France would have paid it all."

In the Musée des Archives at Paris is preserved an order of Charles V. to

his treasurer, to prepare 30,000 Spanish doublons, to be paid to the

Prince of Wales for the ransom of Du Guesclin, adding, "il touche notre

honneur grandement." This is the most ancient royal autograph in the

collection. Charles calls him Bertran de Caclin. The Constable, in a deed

of gift of the Château of Cachant to the Duke of Anjou, signs "Bertrain."

A school for deaf and dumb occupies the Chartreuse, directed by the Sœurs

de la Sagesse. We were shown round by a deaf and dumb guide, who made us

write on his slate what we could not explain on our fingers, and he also

wrote his reply. He showed us a series of paintings, copies of Le Sœur’s

Life of St. Bruno in the Louvre, which are said to have been executed by

the monks of the Chartreuse. Attached to the church is a sepulchral chapel

containing the bones of the victims of the unfortunate descent on

Quiberon, when the immense armament of French royalists who were landed in

British ships, perished. They were commanded by d’Hervilly, an old officer

of the Constitutional Guard of Louis XVI., and he had for lieutenant Count

Charles de Sombreuil, whose sister had rendered the name illustrious by

her heroism in the Reign of Terror. They landed at Carnac, where Georges

Cadoudal and a band of Chouans awaited their arrival. Hoche, at the head

of a republican army, hastened to meet them. Every thing depended upon

their rapidity of action, but three days were lost in disputes about the

command among the emigrant generals. They took possession of the peninsula

of Quiberon, a strip of land about six miles long by three wide, united to

the mainland by a narrow tongue of sand a league in extent, called the

Falaise. Fort Penthièvre, placed on the plateau of a steep rock, and

bathed on each side by the sea between the peninsula and the Falaise,

defends the approach by land. The emigrant army was protected by the

English fleet which lay in the bay of Quiberon, one of the safest and most

sheltered on the coast. The defence of Fort Penthièvre was entrusted to

some republican soldiers taken from the English prisons. In a night

encounter d’Hervilly was killed. Hoche marched upon Fort Penthièvre,

which was given up to him by the traitor soldiers. La Puisaye threw

himself into a boat and gained the English fleet. The emigrant army was

thrown into the greatest disorder; the "Bleus," as the republican soldiers

were called, pressed close upon them, and Sombreuil, driven to the water’s

edge, and deserted by his troops, offered to capitulate, on the condition

that the lives should be spared of all save himself. "Yes," cried the

republicans with one voice. They demanded that the fire of the English

corvette should cease, and there being no boat at hand, Gesril du Papeu

swam to the English ship, and having delivered his message, returned and

surrendered himself prisoner. It is said that Hoche considered the

capitulation sacred, but Tallien arrived armed with full powers from the

Convention to treat the emigrants according to law. The prisoners had been

conducted to Auray; Hoche, unwilling to be the witness of acts he could

not prevent, returned to Brest. Not one French officer would consent to be

a member of the military commission who were to try, or rather condemn,

the captives. It was composed of Belgians and Swiss, and it was difficult

to induce the soldiers to execute the sentence. Sombreuil and a few others

were shot at Vannes. The execution of the rest took place in a field now

called the Champ des Martyrs. They were brought out in twenties, and

placed before a trench, dug beforehand, and shot. The massacre lasted

three weeks. In all there were 952 victims. Two chapels have been erected;

the one attached to the Chartreuse, and the other on the Champ des

Martyrs. That in the Chartreuse has inscribed over the front, in letters

of gold, "France in tears has raised it." The interior walls are overlaid

with black and white marble, with two marble bas-reliefs by David of

Angers: one representing the Duc d’Angoulême praying over the bones of the

victims in 1814, when they were transferred from the Champ des Martyrs to

the Chartreuse; the other, the laying of the first stone of the mausoleum

by the Duchesse d’Angoulême in 1823. In 1829 the solemn inauguration of

the expiatory monument took place; and it must have been touching to the

spectators to have assisted at the ceremony with the Duchesse d’Angoulême,

daughter of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, niece of the martyr saint the

Princess Elizabeth, and herself long subjected to imprisonment and

indignities. Only one year after this ceremony she again took the road to

exile, where she ended her troublous life, a pattern of piety and

resignation—

“Sa mort fut le soir d’un beau jour.”

In the centre of the mausoleum is the vault containing the bones, and over

it a sarcophagus on a pedestal, upon which are inscribed the names of the

victims. On the sarcophagus are busts of Sombreuil and the other chiefs of

the expedition; and a profile of Monseigneur d’Hercé, Bishop of Dol, one

of the victims. Of the bas-reliefs on the mausoleum, one represents the

heroic act of Gesril du Papeu, with the words "I hoped in God, and shall

not be afraid;" the other, the landing of the emigrants on the shore of

Carnac, with "All my brothers are dead for Israel;"—these inscriptions are

all in Latin. Others are round the monument:—"Unworthily slain for God and

the King;"—"Precious before God is the blood of his saints;"—"For our

lives and our laws;"—"You will receive a greater glory and an eternal

name." Our deaf and dumb guide let a light down into the vault to show us

the bones of the victims, collected in one common sepulchre. The

Chartreuse convent therefore commemorates two great tragedies of history:

in ancient times the battle of Auray, which caused the death of Charles of

Blois, the captivity of Du Guesclin, and the slaughter of the flower of

Breton chivalry by the swords of their fellow Bretons. In modern days, the

massacre of the royalists at Quiberon—both the horrible consequence of

civil war.

We then repaired to the "Champ des Martyrs," where took place the

execution of the royalists. At the end of an avenue of silver firs is the

expiatory chapel, with a granite portico, in the Doric style. Above is

inscribed, "It is here they fell," and "The memory of the just shall be

eternal."

On the tomb is written, "Tombeau des royalistes courageux defenseurs de

l’autel et du trône, ils tombèrent martyrs de leurs nobles efforts. Quel

Français pénetré des droits de la couronne ignore ce qu’il doit à ces

illustres morts."

The inn Pavilion d’en Haut is particularly comfortable and reasonable, and

the people very obliging. Wishing to taste the crêpes we had seen before,

they procured some, and gave them to us hot—we thought they resembled a

greasy crumpet.

[Illustration: 34. Champ des Martyrs. Auray.]

Auray is a good central point for visiting the Celtic remains:—menhirs,

dolmens, cromlechs, all of which are as plentiful here as are calvaries,

shrines, and churches in Léon. They seem all concentrated on these dreary

wild landes, sometimes covered with furze bushes, at others strewn along

the coast.

Next day we drove to Locmariaker, nine miles from Auray, through Crach. On

the right is the river or estuary of that name; over which a bridge is

contemplated at La Trinité, to communicate with Carnac. Locmariaker is at

the extremity of the peninsula formed by the rivers of Crach and Auray, at

the entrance of the Morbihan. It must have been a place of some importance

in the time of the Roman occupation of Gaul, as there are the remains of a

circus, whose walls now enclose the cemetery, of a Gallo-Roman house, with

baths, frescoed walls, and marble pavement. We picked up some fragments of

Roman bricks which lie strewn upon the ground in great abundance. Midst

these Roman remains are gigantic menhirs, barrows, and dolmens, vestiges

of a still more ancient race. Locmariaker has two large tumuli, both vast

tombs.

[Illustration: 35. Sculptured Stone. Manné er Hroëck. Locmariaker.]

We first visited the Manné-er-Hroëk, the Montagne de la Fée, or de la

Femme, which bears in the marine charts the name of "Butte de César," for

it was the fashion with antiquaries to attribute to Cæsar and the Romans

every Celtic monument, although bearing no resemblance whatever to any

work of these conquerors. The Montagne de la Fée is a galgal or tumulus of

elliptic form, about thirty feet high, formed of dry stones. It was

opened in 1863, and found to contain a sepulchral chamber or dolmen,

outside of which lay a granite stone above three feet long, inscribed with

various figures, and, in the middle, a cartouche, with hatchet-shaped

characters. There were also found a number of celts (stone hatchets or

knives), a green jasper necklace, and some glass beads, which have been

transferred to the museum at Vannes. The guide who furnished the light

and showed us the grotto is the widow of a Polish officer. She had a

Scotch terrier, which she wanted us to accept. The legend of the mound is

this:—A widow had the misfortune of losing her only solace, her son,

compelled by law to embark for foreign lands. Years rolled by; he did not

return. All said he was lost; but the heart of a mother hopes for ever,

and the sad Armorican went every day to the point of Kerpenhir, whence she

surveyed the ocean, and searched the depths of the horizon with tearful

eyes for the purple sail(16) which was to bring joy and peace to her

dwelling. One day, when she was returning sad as usual to her desolate

home, she was accosted by an old woman, who enquired the cause of her

troubles; and, on hearing them, advised her to heap a pile of stones, so

that, mounting on the summit, she might see to a greater distance, and

perhaps discern the long looked-for vessel. During the whole night the two

women worked, and carried in their aprons the stones they gathered on the

heath. In the morning their task was finished, and the Bretonne was scared

to see the enormous heap that had been piled together; but the other

quieted her fears, and helped her to climb to the top, whence soon the

happy mother beheld the vessel of her son. The fairy, her assistant, had

disappeared. This story evidently bears a vague tradition of this tumulus

having been raised by a woman, and of some maritime expedition made by him

for whom it was probably destined. The name of fairy is attached in

Brittany to everything—mountains, springs, grottoes, rocks; every accident

in nature is explained by a fairy origin.

The next object we saw is also attributed to the fairies, the great

menhir, called Men-er-Groách, or stone of the fairies. It is the largest

menhir known, but it has been broken into three pieces, some say by

thunder. Put together, it measures about 67 feet in length, and is 16 feet

in diameter. The wonder is how it was placed there, for it is little less

than the obelisk of St. Peter’s, which took 800 to 900 men and 70 horses

nearly a year to raise,—a work which was the great triumph of Fontana the

engineer. The menhir is estimated to be one-third the height of Notre Dame

at Paris.

Lying also prostrate on the ground, by the side of it, is a smaller

menhir, which is, however, above 30 feet long.

[Illustration: 36. Hatchet-shaped Sculpture. Dol des Marchands.

Locmariaker.]

Close to these gigantic menhirs is the large dolmen (Breton, _daul_,

table, and _mœn_, stone), known as the "Table de César," or the "Dol des

Marchands." We walked under it to see the curious hatchet-shaped figure

sculptured on one of the upper stones. The common belief is that these

dolmens or table-stones were Druidic altars, and the guides will show you

the furrows for the blood of the human sacrifice to run down; but human

bones having been found under some of these dolmens, lead one to suppose

they were tombs. In the Scandinavian countries the peasants call them

"Giants’ Graves."

The other great tumulus of Locmariaker is the Mont Heleu or Manné-Lud,

also opened in 1863, and supposed to have been the sepulchre of a number

of persons, perhaps of a whole generation. It has, like the Montagne de la

Feé, a galleried chamber or dolmen, the floor formed of an enormous slab

across the centre, on which is a sculpture resembling a celt; other

sculptured stones were found in the same chamber. At the other end of the

dolmen was an avenue of stones, some supporting the skeletons of horses’

heads. This tumulus was probably the tomb of some great warrior: the

horses’ skeletons were the remains of a sacrifice, and the human bones of

beings who had been immolated to accompany the earthly remains of their

great chief to another world.

We took a boat for Gavr’ Inis, or the Goat Island, and embarked on the

Morbihan (Breton, Little Sea), an inland sea, that gives its name to the

department. Shut out from the ocean by the two peninsulas of Locmariaker

and Rhuys, which form a narrow gully between the points of Kerpenhir and

Port Navalo, this sea contains an archipelago of islands, numbering,

according to tradition, as many as the days in the year. Of these, the Ile

aux Moines is the largest. The arms of the sea forming the rivers of Auray

and Vannes run into it. The navigation of the Morbihan is very dangerous,

the ocean entering it by this narrow opening in three distinct currents;

it is an endless labyrinth of rocks and water; its granite shores, torn by

the sea, are indented with creeks, capes, and inlets.

[Illustration: 37. Entrance to the Tumulus of Gavr’ Inis.]

[Illustration: 38/39. Sculptured Stones. Gavr’ Inis.]

Gavr’ Inis is a small island, surmounted by a tumulus, which forms a

conspicuous object, seen from all the mounds and dolmens around. It is a

galgal of heaped stones, in the centre of which is a dolmen or galleried

chamber, which was opened in 1832, and is the most curious monument in the

Morbihan. The gallery, with its square sepulchral chamber at the end, is

above fifty feet long and about five wide, composed of two rows of granite

menhirs, or upright stones, which form the sides, with horizontal stones

resting on them, ending in a chamber consisting of eight menhirs, with an

enormous slab, thirteen feet long, placed over them horizontally to form

the roof, and another, nearly as large, to form the floor. These stones

are of granite, and no cement is used to unite them. They are covered

with incised figures of unknown meaning: sculptures in concentric whorls

or circles, as if tattoed like the cheek of a New Zealander; and the only

forms to be distinguished are serpent-like figures, and the representation

of an axe, similar to those to be seen in the Grotte des Fées, the Dol des

Marchands, and the Manné-Lud. In one of the side stones of the chamber are

two handle-looking projections, with a recess behind, said, probably

erroneously, to be the place where the victims were bound. No celts or

other objects of antiquity were found in the grotto, which must have been

previously rifled of its contents. These sculptures cannot have been

executed without the use of metal instruments. There are also Celtic

remains in the Ile aux Moines and other islands of the Morbihan, but our

guide did not encourage us to extend our sail to visit them. The current

between the island and Port Navalo is sometimes of great rapidity and

violence.

Next day we went to Carnac to see its marvellous avenues of menhirs. The

Celtic remains here are of a different character from those of

Locmariaker. Here there is quantity, at Locmariaker size. The monuments of

the last are covered with strange characters and signs; in Carnac they are

all plain and silent, according to the laws of the Druids, who prohibited

writing, in the fear of thereby divulging their mysteries, and also that

the people might not neglect to cultivate their memories.

“Tout cela eut un sens, et traduisit

Une pensée; mais la clé de ce mystère,

Où est elle? et qui pourrait dire aujourd’hui

Si jamais elle se retrouvera?”—CAYAT DELANDRE.

Before reaching Carnac, we stopped at Kermario on the left, and got out of

the carriage to inspect the army of large menhirs about the windmill. They

are arranged in eleven rows, some sixteen feet high, placed with the small

end in the ground. They are all of a sombre grey, many of them clothed

with straggling lichens of various species. This wild heathy tract was

covered with the blue flower of the dwarf gentian, and strewed all over

with menhirs. Before arriving at Carnac, the road passes the avenues of

Menec, all running in the same direction as those of Kermario, from east

to west: among these are some of the largest stones. The third large

group, at Erdeven, we saw on our way from Carnac back to Auray by another

road.

“D’un passé sans mémoire incertaines reliques,

Mystères d’un vieux monde en mystères écrits.”

LAMARTINE.

We do not pretend to enter into the various explanations attempted of this

wonderful monument. The legend at Carnac is, that St. Cornély, pursued by

an army of pagans, fled towards the sea; finding no boat at hand, and on

the point of being taken, he transformed the soldiers into stones.

“Les soldats de deux rois idolâtres

Poursuivaient notre saint dejà l’ami des pâtres,

Et sur un chariot trainé par de grands bœufs

Le bons vieux Cornéli se sauvait devant eux;

Or, voici que la mer, terrible aussi l’arrête;

Alors, le saint prélat, du haut de sa charrette

Tend la main: les soldats, tels qu’ils étaient rangés,

En autant de menhirs, voyez! furent changés.

Telle est notre croyance, et personne n’ignore

Que le patron des bœufs c’est ici qu’on l’honore;

Aux lieux où la charrette et le saint ont passés,

Le froment pousse encor plus vert et plus pressé.”

BRIZEUX.

St. Cornély is the patron of bullocks. When a beast is ill, his owner buys

an image of St. Cornély, and hangs it up in the stable till its recovery.

In the church of Carnac is a series of fresco paintings portraying the

principal events of his life, and outside, a sculpture representing him

between two bullocks. The head of St. Cornély is preserved here; the

pulpit is of forged iron, and in the sacristy is shown a silver gilt

monstrance of the Louis XIV. period, with a representation of the Supper

at Emmaus, chased in relief round the foot. We walked to the Mont St.

Michel, a tumulus of stones with sepulchral dolmen, opened in 1862, but

now closed. It was found to contain objects of the "Stone" age, a number

of jade celts from four to sixteen inches long, some perforated beads and

pendents for a necklace, and there were traces of burnt bones. Like most

monuments of Celtic origin, these tumuli were regarded with religious

veneration; and the first teachers of Christianity, to enlist the old

worship to the cause of truth, marked each of these monuments with the

symbol of the new faith. Thus the cross was placed on the menhir, and a

chapel built upon Mont St. Michel, and, as we have before seen, on Mont

Dol, and other high places of Druidic worship. The little chapel dedicated

to St. Michel, which surmounts the tumulus, forms a conspicuous landmark

from every point, and commands a most extensive view over the stones of

Carnac ranged in their eleven lines, on a treeless plain, the Morbihan,

and the long dreary peninsula of Quiberon.

Returning by another route, we alighted at the inn at Plouharnel to see a

collection of jade celts, gold torques, and necklaces of beads, found in

the neighbourhood, belonging to the landlord, M. Bail, who has them all

arranged in a frame. They were discovered in a group of dolmens near the

village, opened in 1830, consisting of three grottos or allées couvertes,

a kind of triple dolmen, covered over with a mound. The central grotto and

gallery had been opened before. The second dolmen had also a grotto or

allée couverte, in which was found an earthen pot, containing ashes and

three gold necklaces. In the third were some fragments of pottery. Three

gold necklaces, composed each of a single plate of metal, an inch and a

half wide, with fragments of the earthen vessels in which they were found,

together with stone celts and some pieces of bronze, extracted from the

dolmen, we afterwards saw exhibited in the "Musée du Travail" of the

Universal Exhibition of 1867. These dolmens belong to a much later period

of civilisation than those of Locmariaker—to the "Bronze" Age.

[Illustration: 40. Dolmen of Corcorro.]

The number of dolmens in the Morbihan is estimated at 250. In the

department of Finistère they are set at double the number. All are

supposed to have been originally covered with earth. The bodies are more

frequently buried than burnt. The dolmens contain implements of stone and

bone, occasionally gold and bronze, but never iron. To judge from the

comparative quantities found in the different departments, it may be

assumed that they are the work of people who have entered France from the

west, and have gradually worked their way by the rivers and valleys

further up the country. In this secluded spot we found a large English

family located, ten in number; they had been living there several months.

Before reaching Erdeven, at Kerserho, on a large lande or heathy plain, we

arrived at another series of the great Carnac army of stones, of which

they are a continuation. They are arranged in nine parallel rows, as may

be clearly distinguished by standing upon one of the stones; but the lines

are rather interrupted by hedges and ditches. Some are menhirs planted

vertically on the end, others enormous blocks simply laid upon the soil.

They extend half a league from north to south, more numerous than Carnac,

but generally not so tall, the highest from ten to twelve feet, but very

large. The road is strewed with Druidic monuments. At Corcorro, between

Plouharnel and Erdeven, on a farm, a short distance off the road, is a

dolmen, the largest in the Morbihan. Its original length appears to have

been 45 feet; the part preserved is 24 feet by 12 feet wide, and is

covered with two slabs: one of these is enormous, about six feet wide. It

is used as a cart-shed, and, when we saw it, contained bundles of hemp and

a hemp-breaker. One of the top stones overhangs the others, showing the

dolmen to have been originally larger. A number of ragged children

clustered upon the top, as if they had been accustomed to group themselves

for a picture. They effectually prevented any of us sketching the dolmen,

for, as soon as we began to draw, they all, in number about forty, came

down from their height and pressed closely around us. From Auray we took a

carriage to Vannes, a tidal port, one league from the gulf of Morbihan,

and capital of that department.

Its people, the Veneti, were the head of the Armorican confederation, and

commanded the fleet in time of war. Their vessels had sails of prepared

skins, their cables were chains of iron. They traded with the Scilly

Islands, and brought back tin, copper, skins, slaves, and dogs, objects of

traffic with other nations. The Armorican confederation made a vigorous

resistance against Cæsar, who sent round for the Roman fleet and beat them

in a naval battle in the Morbihan sea. The Romans had attached to their

ships large sharp scythes which mowed down masts and rigging, and a dead

calm rendering the enemy’s ships immovable, they were soon taken, burnt,

or sunk. This battle ended the war with the maritime states of the west.

Cæsar showed little mercy to the conquered: all the senators were put to

death, and the rest of the population sold by auction to furnish the

slave-markets of Italy.

We walked to the promenade, called the "Garenne," where Sombreuil, Renée

de Hercé, bishop of Dol, and twenty-two others of the emigrants, were

shot. Sombreuil was about twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age, a

native of Périgord. He always persisted in the same account of the

capitulation. His last words were:-"Si j’avais pu imaginer que des

militaires pussent manquer à leur parole donnée sur le champ de bataille,

je n’aurais jamais consenti à une capitulation; elle me cause des regrets

amers qui me suivront jusqu’au tombeau. Adieu, Messieurs, nous trouverons

justice et clémence devant un tribunal où la fraude des hommes ne saurait

jamais parvenir." A republican officer offered to bandage his eyes: "Non,"

he exclaimed, "je veux voir mon ennemi jusqu’au dernier instant."

Requested to kneel, Sombreuil answered: "Je le veux bien; mais je fais

observer que je mets un genou pour mon Dieu, et l’autre pour mon roi."

Thus ended the most ill-fated expedition that history has ever had to

record.

The cathedral of Vannes has a richly-sculptured north porch of Kersanton

stone, and another, facing the Rue des Trois Duchesses. Also, a

Renaissance chapel, called the Chapelle du Saint Sacrament or du Pardon,

with a hideous roof replacing the original. Adjoining are the remains of

the elegant cloisters of the cathedral, with basket-handled arcades of the

fifteenth century. In the cathedral is also the chapel of St. Vincent

Ferrier, the great preacher of the fifteenth century, whose labours

extended over almost every country of Europe—Italy, Germany, France,

Switzerland, and Great Britain. San Vicente Ferrar, a Dominican monk, was

the son of an attorney, originally of Valencia, in Spain, of which city he

is the tutelar saint. In Spain he led the way in preaching a crusade

against the Jews and Moors, who were persecuted by the Inquisition with

the most cruel bigotry. Invited to Brittany by Duke John V., he fixed

himself at Vannes, where, after having evangelised the province, he died

in 1419. He was buried in the cathedral. The Duchess Jeanne de France,

daughter of Charles VI., was present at his deathbed, and insisted on

laying him out. By her own desire, she was buried at his feet. Philip II.,

King of Spain, desired his relics, but did not succeed in obtaining them.

The little house in which St. Vincent Ferrier lived is preserved (No. 13,

Rue des Orfèvres). A tiny room, up a narrow staircase, is now converted

into a chapel, in which are shown the stone which served him as a pillow,

his lamp, and other relics.

The Maison du Parlement or Château Gaillau is a curious old building, with

its entrance by a stone staircase and turret. Vannes was the usual

residence of Dukes John IV. and V., and had formerly three châteaux: La

Motte, of which the Hôtel de la Préfecture occupies the site; Plaisance,

half a mile out of the town, where Duke Francis I. died; and La Hermine,

scene of John IV.’s treacherous imprisonment of the Constable Clisson,

which was razed in 1614. It had two towers—one demolished in 1770, the

other still standing, called the "Tour du Connétable," because it was

within its walls he imprisoned Clisson. The Duke had resolved on his

death, to prevent the marriage of Clisson’s daughter Marguerite to Jean de

Bretagne, Count de Penthièvre, son of Charles of Blois.(17) The story is

well related by d’Argentré.

The Duke of Brittany summoned his barons and knights to a council at

Vannes, and entertained them in the Castle de la Motte. He behaved in the

most friendly manner, and invited the Constable, the Lords of Laval and de

Beaumanoir, to see the castle of Hermine he was building. He led the

Constable by the hand through the chambers, and when they arrived at the

keep, said, "Sir Oliver, there’s not a man who understands masonry so well

as yourself; enter and examine the walls well, and if you say it is

properly built, it shall remain." The unsuspecting Constable ascended the

staircase, when the door was closed upon him and he was seized and loaded

with three pairs of fetters. The Duke ordered him to be put into a sack,

his hands and feet tied, and to be thrown secretly at night into the sea.

But the Constable owed his life to the loyalty of Jean Bazvalen, who, like

another Hubert, did not obey his master’s commands, the laws of his

sovereign being less sacred in his eyes than the dictates of humanity and

honour. Clisson was set at liberty, on agreeing to pay 100,000 livres and

to surrender the town of Jugon and some other fortresses. This perfidious

attempt occasioned a war of three years, and was retaliated by Clisson’s

daughter and grandsons upon Duke John V.

The Tour du Connétable, which formed the north-east angle of the Château

de la Hermine, is now used as a museum of Celtic antiquities, and contains

various objects collected in the tumuli of the Morbihan. We observed one

very large jade celt, eighteen inches long, found, we understood, in the

Butte de Tumiac. At Vannes the States of Brittany held their sittings, and

here took place the union of that province with France, 1532.

About twelve miles from Vannes is Korn-er-hoët, demesne of the Princess

Baciocchi, cousin of the Emperor. It was formerly surrounded by woods and

the interminable lande of Lanvaux, which stretches its desolate length

along the Morbihan from Baud to Rochefort. This district had been, from

time immemorial, the abode of some eighty families of gipsies, who lived

there in clay huts under the rule of a chieftain. The sight of this barren

wilderness had so impressed the Princess Baciocchi, in a tour she made in

Brittany in the year 1857, that she obtained the sanction of the Emperor

to reclaim it. She caused a temporary châlet to be built for her

occupation at Kern-er-hoët, and, superintending the works herself, in a

few years effected a wonderful transformation. A model village has been

formed, with church and schools, a well-ordered agricultural population

organised, farm-buildings erected, roads macadamised, the barren lande

drained and reclaimed, and the château surrounded by a well-wooded park.

Great attention has been paid to the details of the dairy farm; all the

disposable milk is made into Dutch cheese. The cows are those of Brittany

and Ayrshire; the pigs from England. The whole demesne comprises about

1300 acres, and the benevolent Princess resides entirely on the scene of

her labours, among the people whose condition she has so ameliorated.(18)

From Vannes we made an excursion into the peninsula of Rhuys, on the south

of the Morbihan Sea. We first stopped at Sarzeau, where Lesage, the

amiable author of ’Gil Blas,’ was born, of whom it was written on his

epitaph:—

“S’il ne fut pas ami de la fortune,

Il fut toujours ami de la vertu.”

Then on to the ducal fortress of Sucinio, situated on the borders of the

ocean. It is a magnificent ruin, built in 1250, by Duke Jean le Roux, to

deposit his treasures, in case an invasion of the French should compel him

to leave his duchy. The position is well chosen, its situation on the

seashore enabling him easily to embark his treasures.

This formidable "coffre fort" was a favourite residence of the Dukes of

Brittany, who came here as a relief from the cares and ceremonies of a

Court. Its name, of which Sucinio is a corruption, Soucy-ny-ot, synonymous

with the Sans-Souci of the great Frederick, shows its intention. This

locality was long celebrated for its fine air, and its peaceful character.

Louis XIV. used to say to his courtiers—

“Désirez vous un pays de repos et de délices?

Allez habiter l’île de Rhuys.”

Partly demolished, Sucinio presents a mass of now only picturesque ruins,

a curious type of the architecture of the thirteenth century. Five of the

eight enormous battlemented towers remain, and the flamboyant window of

the chapel on the upper floor of the building is still preserved. Traces

of the portcullis and drawbridge are visible. Over the gallery is an

escutcheon, with a couchant lion holding the arms of Brittany, between two

stags, also couchant, at the foot of a tree. The sea that bathed the walls

of the castle has been driven back by the accumulation of mud and the

crumbling of the walls.

Here was born Arthur III., Comte de Richemont, Constable of France, and

afterwards Duke of Brittany. This illustrious man, equally great as a

warrior and politician, does not take his merited place in the page of

history, owing probably to the partiality of French historians, who were

always jealous of the glory of Brittany. Except Du Guesclin, no other

constable has rendered greater service to France.

A prisoner at Agincourt, where he commanded the van, he fought with the

Maid of Orleans,(19) at Beaugeney, took Talbot captive at Patai,

reconquered almost the whole of Normandy, entered Paris in 1436, and

finally expelled the English by the crushing victory of Formigny, having

staked his honour to drive them out of the kingdom. Seven years after, he

succeeded to the ducal crown; but such was the confidence of Charles VII.

in his loyalty, that he retained the supreme command of the French army

with his new dignity. He reigned only fourteen months. Richmont always

caused two swords to be carried before him when he appeared in presence of

the King; a naked sword, as Duke of Brittany, and the other sheathed and

the point turned downwards, as Constable of France. The title of Earl of

Richmond, styled by the French Comte de Richmont, dates from the

Conqueror. Alan Rufus, son of the Earl of Brittany, accompanied Duke

William to England, and commanded the rear of the army at the battle of

Hastings. For these services, he was rewarded with the hand of the

Conqueror’s daughter, and all that northern part of Yorkshire, now called

Richmondshire, where he built, on the river Swale, the town and castle of

Richmond. The title passed through Alice, daughter of Constance of

Brittany, to Pierre de Dreux, and descended through him to all the Dukes

of his house, until John IV., having gone over to the King of France, was

deprived of the earldom by Act of Parliament, in the reign of King Richard

II.; but Henry IV. again conferred the title upon his stepson Arthur,

afterwards the celebrated Constable and Duke of Brittany.

We returned to breakfast at Sarzeau; then on to the Abbey of St. Gildas de

Rhuys, founded on this inaccessible coast by St. Gildas, an English saint,

the schoolfellow and friend of St. Samson of Dol and St. Pol de Léon, and

which counted among its monks our Saxon St. Dunstan, who, carried by

pirates from his native isle, settled on the desolate shores of Brittany,

and became, under the name of St. Goustan, the patron of mariners.

St. Gildas built his abbey on the edge of a high rocky promontory, the

site of an ancient Roman encampment, called Grand Mont, facing the shore,

where the sea has formed numerous caverns in its rocks. They are composed

chiefly of quartz, and are covered to a great height with innumerable

small mussels. The tide was too high to admit of our entering into any of

the grottoes, but the piles of dark rocks beaten into every form by the

violence of the waves, rising sometimes to the height of sixty feet, are

very imposing. St. Gildas, in the twelfth century, had Abelard for

superior, who, on his appointment, made over to Eloise the celebrated

abbey he had founded at Nogent, near Troyes, which he called the Paraclete

or Comforter, because he there found comfort and refreshment after his

troubles, but his peace soon ended on his arrival in Brittany. His gentle

nature was unable to contend against these coarse, ferocious, unruly,

Breton monks. As he writes in his well-known letter to Eloise, setting

forth his griefs:—

“J’habite un pays barbare, dont la langue m’est inconnue et en horreur:

je n’ai de commerce qu’avec des peuples féroces; mes promenades sont les

bords inaccessibles d’une mer agitée; mes moines n’ont d’autre règle que

n’en point avoir. Je voudrais que vous vissiez ma maison, vous ne la

prendriez jamais pour une abbaye: les portes ne sont ornées que de pieds

de biche, de loups et d’ours, de sangliers, des dépouilles hideuses des

hiboux. J’éprouve chaque jour de nouveaux périls; je crois à tout moment

voir sur ma tête un glaive suspendu.”

But if Abelard hated the monks, they equally detested him, and one day

tried to poison him, but he escaped through a gate in the garden wall,

still pointed out, to the sea shore, where his friend and protector, the

Count de Rhuys, awaited him in a boat.

The abbey is now in the occupation of twelve sisters of the "Charité de

St. Louis," who have a school for poor girls, and, in the summer, take in

families to board who come here for the benefit of the bracing air of this

fine wild coast. There is a kind of establishment for bathing in the

little bay below the abbey. The board and lodging is moderate, three

francs and a half a day, wine, tea, and sugar, not included. Boys are

admitted up to thirteen, but the men are sent into the town.

Part of the abbey church is Romanesque: a semi-circular choir, with three

round chapels and the transepts. The nave and tower are of modern date.

The pavement is covered with tumulary stones. Four children of Duke John

III. le Roux are buried here, and one of Joan of Navarre and John IV. In

the Treasury are several pieces of plate, among which is a Renaissance

chalice, with six canopied statuettes of Apostles forming the knop; and a

cross of the same period, a châsse of St. Gildas, his head and arm both

encased in silver reliquaries. His tomb is in the church. Encrusted in

the wall outside the church are the figures of two knights on horseback in

mailed armour, conical Norman helmets, long pointed shields, and lances in

the attitude of combat. The church and convent of St. Gildas belonged to

the family of Bisson, whose self-devotion is commemorated by a statue at

Lorient. He passed here many years of his early life, and wishing to

preserve the buildings from ruin, gave them as a present to the parish.

St. Gildas is called by the Bretons St. Feltas. There is a rude coloured

print in the church relative to the legend of Comorre, or Comor, the

Breton "Blue Beard," in which St. Gildas plays a conspicuous part. The

story, as told by Emile Souvestre, is this:—Guerech, Count of Vannes, the

country of white corn, had a daughter, Triphyna, whom he tenderly loved.

One day, ambassadors arrived from Comorre, a Prince of Cornouaille, the

country of the black corn, demanding her in marriage. Now this caused

great distress, for Comorre was a giant, and one of the wickedest of men,

held in awe by every one for his cruelty. As a boy, when he went out, his

mother used to ring a bell to warn people of his approach. He shot a child

in order to prove his gun; and, when unsuccessful in the chase, would set

his dogs on the peasants to tear them in pieces. But most horrible of all,

he had had four wives, who all died one after the other, under suspicion

of having been killed by either the knife, fire, water, or poison. The

Count of Vannes, therefore, dismissed the ambassadors, and advanced to

meet Comorre, who was approaching with a powerful army; but St. Gildas

went into her oratory, and begged Triphyna would save bloodshed, and

consent to the marriage. He gave her a silver ring, which would warn her

of any intended evil, by turning, at the approach of danger, as black as

the crow’s wing. The marriage took place with great rejoicings. The first

day six thousand guests were invited; on the next as many poor were fed,

the bride and the bridegroom serving at table, a napkin under their arms.

For some time, all went on well. Comorre’s nature seemed changed, his

prisons were empty, his gibbets untenanted; but Triphyna felt no

confidence, and every day went to pray at the tombs of his four wives. At

this time there was an assembly at Rennes of the Breton Princes, which

Comorre was obliged to attend. Before his departure, he gave Triphyna the

keys, desiring her to amuse herself in his absence. After five months he

unexpectedly returned, and found her occupied in trimming an infant’s cap

with gold lace. On seeing the cap, Comorre turned pale; and when Triphyna

joyfully announced to him that in two months he would be a father, he drew

back in a rage and rushed out of the apartment. Triphyna saw that her ring

had turned black, which betokened danger, she knew not why. She descended

into the chapel to pray; when she rose to depart it was midnight, and she

saw the four tombs of Comorre’s wives open slowly, and they all issued

forth in their winding-sheets. Half dead with fear, Triphyna tried to

escape; but the spectres cried, "Take care, poor lost one! Comorre seeks

to kill you." "I," says the Countess, "what evil have I done?"—"You have

told him that you will soon become a mother; and, through the Spirit of

Evil, he knows that his child will kill him, and that is why he has

murdered us, when we told him what he has just learned from you." "What

hope then of escape remains for me," cried Triphyna."—"Go back to your

father," answered the phantoms. "But how escape when Comorre’s dog guards

the court?"—"Give him this poison which killed me," said the first wife."

"But how can I descend this high wall?"—"By means of this cord which

strangled me," answered the second wife. "But who will guide me through

the dark?"—"The fire which burnt me," replied the third wife. "And how can

I make so long a journey?" returned Triphyna.—"Take this stick which broke

my skull," rejoined the fourth spectre. Armed with these weapons, Triphyna

sets out, silences the dog, scales the wall, sees her way through the

darkness, and proceeds on her road to Vannes. On awakening next morning,

Comorre finds his wife fled, and pursues her on horseback. The poor

fugitive, seeing her ring turn black, turned off the road and hid herself

till night in the cabin of a shepherd, where was only an old magpie in a

cage at the door. Comorre, who had given up the pursuit, was returning

home that road, when he heard the magpie trying to imitate her complaints,

and calling out "Poor Triphyna!" he therefore knew his wife had passed

that way, and set his dog on the track. Meanwhile, Triphyna felt she could

proceed no further, and laid down on the ground, where she brought into

the world a boy of marvellous beauty. As she clasped him to her arms, she

saw over her head a falcon with a golden collar, which she recognised as

her father’s. The bird came to her call, and giving it the warning ring of

St. Gildas, she told it to fly with it to her father. The bird obeyed and

flew with it like lightning to Vannes; but, almost at the same instant,

Comorre arrived; having parted with her warning ring, Triphyna, who had no

notice of his approach, had only time to conceal her babe in the cavity of

a tree, when Comorre threw himself upon his unhappy wife, and with one

blow severed her head from her body. When the falcon arrived at Vannes, he

found the King at dinner with St. Gildas; he let the ring fall into the

silver cup of his master, who recognising it, exclaimed, "My daughter is

in danger; saddle the horses, and let St. Gildas accompany us." Following

the falcon, they soon reached the spot where Triphyna lay dead. After they

had all knelt in prayer, St. Gildas said to the corpse, "Arise, take thy

head and thy child, and follow us." The dead body obeyed, the bewildered

troop followed; but, gallop as fast as they could, the headless body was

always in front, carrying the babe in her left hand, and her pale head in

the right. In this manner, they reached the castle of Comorre. "Count,"

says St. Gildas, "I bring back your wife such as your wickedness has made

her, and thy child such as Heaven has given it thee. Wilt thou receive

them under thy roof?" Comorre was silent. The Saint three times repeated

the question, but no voice returned an answer. Then St. Gildas took the

new-born infant from its mother, and placed it on the ground. The child

marched alone to the edge of the moat, and picking up a handful of earth,

and throwing it against the castle, exclaimed, "Let the Trinity execute

judgment." At the same instant the towers shook and fell with a great

crash; the walls yawned open and the castle sunk, burying Comorre and all

his fellow partners in crime. St. Gildas then replaced Triphyna’s head

upon her shoulders, laid his hands upon her, and restored her to life, to

the great joy of her father.—Such is the history of Triphyna and Comorre.

On our way back to Vannes we saw on our left the Butte de Tumiac, or Butte

d’Arzon, the largest tumulus of the Morbihan. It was opened in 1853, and

found to enclose a chamber full of pulverised bones and various curious

objects. From Vannes we also visited the stately castle of Elven, about

four miles from the station of that name; not built on a lofty site, for,

in the fifteenth century, the barons had descended from their heights to

places more convenient of access, and where water was more easily

obtained. The Breton feudal lords of Rohan, Rieux, Clisson, and

Penthièvre, no longer required fortified places as means of defence

against the French and English, but, in consequence of their own internal

divisions, to defend them in their wars with their duke or among

themselves. The castle of Elven is situated in an insulated coppice wood,

in the midst of the lande of Elven. It was the chief place of the lordship

of l’Argoët (in Breton, "upon the wood"), and is also called the fortress

of Largoët.

[Illustration: 41. Castle of Elven.]

The ruins, which occupy a large enclosure, consist chiefly of two towers;

the principal one, 130 feet high, is octagonal; the other, which is not

above 100 feet in height, is split from top to bottom. The battlemented

walls are nearly 20 feet thick at the base. A wide deep moat surrounded

the castle, and it was furnished with subterranean passages and everything

requisite to make it a model of the military architecture of the fifteenth

century. The donjon has two granite staircases; one leads to the top,

whence may be seen Vannes and the Morbihan, with its islands. Here, in

1793, the Royalists established signals. In the castle of Elven, Henry of

Richmond, then only fifteen, with his uncle, Jasper Tudor, Earl of

Pembroke, were detained by Duke Francis II. for fifteen years. Fugitives

after Tewkesbury, they were thrown by a tempest upon the shores of

Brittany. Henry was claimed both by King Edward IV. and Louis XI., and was

kept by Duke Francis as a pledge of the good faith of Edward towards

Brittany. Perhaps also Francis may have entertained some ill-feeling

towards Henry from his bearing the title of Earl of Richmond, which had

been held for more than three hundred years by the Dukes of Brittany.

Francis revived the claim to the title which Henry VI. had conferred

(1452) on Edward Tudor, father of Henry. Subsequently, on the assurance of

the King of England that he only required the release of Henry to invest

him with the Order of the Garter and to give him his daughter, the

Princess Elizabeth, in marriage, Duke Francis made over the Prince to the

English Ambassador, and he was about to embark at St. Malo for England,

when the Duke’s Grand Treasurer (Landais) arrived, warned Henry of his

danger, and helped him to take refuge in the sanctuary of the church,

whence he afterwards withdrew him again to place him in honourable

captivity for twelve more years, till King Edward’s death. A party being

formed in England, aided by the Duchess of Brittany, Françoise de Foix,

Henry attempted a descent; but the plan being discovered, after seeing the

English coast, Henry was obliged to return to Brittany and his ships were

scattered in a storm. Again within his power, Landais listened to the

offers of King Richard III., and agreed to give him up; but Henry,

informed in time, left Vannes, threw himself into the forest, and escaped

to France, where he obtained from the regent, Anne de Beaujeu, the

assistance which enabled him to mount the English throne.

The castle of Elven, with those of Rieux and Rochefort, belonged to the

Maréchal de Rieux. Elven was rebuilt by him with the materials of the old;

but they were all dismantled by the orders of the Duchess Anne in 1496, to

punish her guardian for his revolt. Yet Rieux acted as he thought best for

the welfare of his late master and his daughter, whose cause he defended

against the interested views of the King of France. Rieux had that keen

sense of honour which is one of the characteristics of the Breton

gentleman. When he reproached Anne de Beaujeu, regent, to her brother

Charles VIII., for having instigated the King to attack Nantes, contrary

to his engagements, Anne replied, "He had no written promise." "Et quoi,

Madame!" he indignantly exclaimed; "la parole d’un roy, ne vaut elle pas

mille scellez?" Louis de Rieux, the last of the race, was shot on the

Champs des Martyrs. True to the motto of his house, "A toute heure,

Rieux," he showed himself ready "at any hour" to die for the altar and the

throne.

Elven is the scene of M. Octave Feuillet’s "Roman d’un jeune Homme

pauvre;" and the keeper who shows the ruins points out the spot whence the

"Hero of Romance" took the leap to prove his loyalty, and which gained him

the hand of the lady.

Next morning we started early by rail to Questembert, to meet the

diligence for Ploërmel, twenty miles from this station, passing through

Malestroit. We saw quantities of chestnuts on our road, and were told they

were largely exported to England. They come principally from the

neighbourhood of Redon and other places in the department of

Ile-et-Vilaine, where they grow as abundantly as described by Madame de

Sevigné, when writing from the Château des Roches, in the same department:

"Pour nous, ce sont des châtaignes qui font notre ornement. J’en avois

l’autre jour trois au quatre paniers autour de moi. J’en fis bouillir,

j’en fis rôtir, j’en mis dans mes poches, on en sert dans les plats, on

marche dessus, c’est la Bretagne dans son triomphe."

Ploërmel derives its name (plo-ermel, land or territory of Armel) from an

anchorite of the sixth century, who treated a dragon which ravaged the

country in the time of King Childebert in the same manner as St. Pol de

Léon disposed of the monster at Batz.

The façade of the church of Saint Armel has a number of grotesque

carvings—the sow playing the bagpipes, the cobbler sewing up the mouth of

his wife, &c.; but it is principally remarkable for its eight painted

windows of the sixteenth century, lately restored, and the monumental

effigies of two Dukes of Brittany; the one, John II., who was killed at

Lyons, where he went to settle some differences with his clergy, on the

occasion of the coronation of Pope Clement V. A wall, loaded with

spectators, fell, and the Duke was crushed in its ruins; the Pope escaped

with being only thrown from his mule.

The other effigy is that of Duke John III., or the Good, whose death was

the signal for the War of Succession. He died at Caen. These tombs were

formerly in the Carmelite convent founded by John II., who, on his return

from the Holy Land, established the first Carmelite convent in Brittany,

and brought monks from Mount Carmel to inhabit it.

The tombs were destroyed in the Revolution, but the two statues were

saved. They are of white marble, and are placed on a monumental slab, side

by side, with this inscription: "De tous temps la fidélité Bretonne rendit

hommage à ses souverains." Duke John II. is represented in a hauberk of

mail, the hood turned back, with cotte d’armes, shield, and sword. Duke

John III. has his head encircled by the ducal crown, his hair long, his

genouillières, cuissarts, &c., of plate armour. His shield and cotte

d’armes are semé of ermines, and by his side is the dagger of miséricorde,

which served to kill the fallen enemy unless he cried for mercy. When

James II. passed through Ploërmel after the Battle of the Boyne, a

fugitive and a dethroned monarch, the Carmelite monks would not take him

in; but he found in the little village of Penfra the hospitality they had

refused him. Here is an establishment, directed by a brother of Lamennais,

the celebrated author of ’Paroles d’un Croyant,’ where people of all

nations—Indians, negroes from Senegambia, and others—are educated and

taught trades of every kind, and sent back to their own countries.

[Illustration: 42. Column of the Thirty.]

The people about Ploërmel and Josselin speak French instead of Breton, the

prevailing language of the Morbihan department. It is nearly seven miles

between Ploërmel and Josselin. Equally distant from each, at Mi-voie, in

the centre of a star formed by avenues of firs and cypresses, is an

obelisk set up to commemorate the famous "Combat des Trente," which took

place on this spot in 1351, and on which are inscribed the names of the

thirty who fought on the French side. It was during that period of the War

of Succession when hostilities were carried on by the two Jeannes, Marshal

Beaumanoir, the Breton commander of the garrison of Josselin for Jeanne de

Penthièvre, gave a challenge to Bembro’, as he is called, the English

captain who held Ploërmel for Jeanne de Montfort and her infant son, in

consequence of an alleged infraction by the latter of a truce, agreed upon

between the Kings of France and England, in which it had been stipulated

that the peasants and those not bearing arms should be unmolested. In

spite of this compact, the English soldiers devastated the country and

committed every kind of excess. Jean de Beaumanoir repaired to Ploërmel to

remonstrate, and it was agreed to settle the dispute by a fight between

thirty warriors from each camp. The prophecies of Merlin were consulted,

and found to promise victory to the English. The appointed place of

meeting was by a large oak, the "Chêne de Mi-Voie," on a lande or large

plain, half way from each town. The battle began with great fury, at first

to the disadvantage of the Bretons, when Bembro’ was killed, which threw

dismay among the English; but a German, who succeeded in the command,

rallied their courage, and the melée became thicker than ever. Beaumanoir

was wounded, and his loss of blood and his long fast produced a burning

thirst, and he asked for water. "Bois ton sang, Beaumanoir, ta soif se

passera," was the reply of Geoffroy du Bois; and Beaumanoir, forgetting

his thirst and his wound, continued the fight. The English kept their

ranks close, till Guillaume de Montauban broke them by a stratagem and

threw them into confusion. He mounted his horse and pretended to fly, then

suddenly turned upon the English with such force that he threw seven down

and broke their ranks:—

“Grande fut la bataille et longuement dura:

Et le chapple (carnage) horrible est deçà et delà;

La chaleur fut moult grande, chacun si tressua (sua);

De sœur et de sang la terre rosoya (rougit).

A ce bon samedi Beaumanoir si jeuna;

Grand soif eut le baron, à boire demanda;

Messire Geoffrey du Bois tantôt répondu a:

’Bois ton sang, Beaumanoir, la soif te passera;

Ce jour aurons honneur, chacun si gagnera

Vaillante renommée, ja blâme ne sera.’—

Beaumanoir le vaillant adonc s’évertua,

Tel deuil eut et telle ire que la soif lui passa;

Et d’un côté et d’autre le chapple commença:

Morts furent ou blessés, guères n’en échappa.”—BRIZEUX.

Sir Robert Knollys, Sir Hugh Calverly Croquart, and others were made

prisoners, and thus ended the Battle of the Thirty; gained, however, in a

most disloyal manner, Montauban getting the aid of a horse, when all the

other combatants fought on foot.

The Breton knights returned to Josselin, their helmets decorated with

branches of the broom—

“In every basnet a bright broom flower;”

the place where the battle was fought running, according to the French

poem,

“Le long d’une génetaie qui était verte et belle.”

Josselin is celebrated for its château, where died, 1407, Olivier du

Clisson, the contemporary and brother of arms of Du Guesclin, whom he

succeeded in the dignity of Constable of France, which no one for some

time would accept, not thinking themselves worthy of replacing him. Both

differed widely in position and character. Du Guesclin, though of a noble

family, had not the advantage of fortune like Clisson, who had immense

wealth and landed possessions, which made him a kind of sovereign in the

duchy. He willed away a million of money. Clisson was a statesman, Du

Guesclin’s sole glory was in arms. Clisson was cruel, intriguing, and

insatiable for riches; Du Guesclin was humane, loyal, and disinterested.

Both were equal in bravery and physical force: the lance of Du Guesclin

and the axe of Clisson(20) carried all before them. Clisson joined with Du

Guesclin in freeing the country from the "Great Companies," and his most

celebrated action was the defeat of the Flemings at Rosbecq. Few subjects

have been so powerful, or have filled so important a part, as Olivier du

Clisson. He was true to his sovereign after his reconciliation, and to his

children after him. John IV. had scarce closed his eyes when the daughter

of Clisson, wife of Jean de Penthièvre, came to her father and said, "It

depends only on you that my husband receives the inheritance of Brittany."

"How?" asked the Constable. "By your ridding yourself of the children of

De Montfort." "Ah! cruel and perverse woman," exclaimed Clisson; "if you

live long, you will destroy the honour and property of your children;" and

he accompanied his words with such violent menaces, that, seized with

affright, she fled from his presence, and falling down, broke her thigh.

The prophecy of Clisson was fulfilled, as we shall later relate. The

ancient château in which he died was destroyed by Henry IV.; the present

building was raised by Alain IX., Vicomte de Rohan, through Alain VIII.,

who married Beatrix, eldest daughter of the Constable, by which Josselin

descended to the Rohans,(21) a house yielding to none in antiquity and

illustration, being descended from the ancient sovereigns of Brittany, and

allied with all the crowned heads of Europe,—"Princes of Bretagne" they

were styled. But the Rohan family became unpopular in the duchy, when John

II. attached himself to Louis XI. and France, for the bribe of 8000 livres

to himself and 4000 to his wife.

At the battle of St. Aubin du Cormier, which sealed the fate of Brittany,

the Vicomte du Rohan betrayed his brother-in-law Duke Francis and the

national cause, and fought on the side of France. He afterwards marched at

the head of the French troops, and besieged Guingamp, where its brave

defenders declared, "As long as there is a duchess in Brittany, we will

not give up her towns." But they took Pontrieux and Concarneau, and in

1491 the Vicomte du Rohan was appointed by Charles VIII.

Lieutenant-General in Lower Brittany. He was called by his countrymen the

"Felon Prince;" and so detested was he and his race, that it passed into a

proverb to say of a mean, treacherous, dishonest person, "Il mange à

l’auge comme Rohan,"—"He eats at the manger (that is, the table of the

King of France) like Rohan." "Un peu de jactance," therefore, justly

observes Daru, in the proud motto of the Rohans:—(22)

“Roi ne puis,

Prince ne daigne,

Rohan je suis.”

[Illustration: 43. Château of Josselin.]

The château of Josselin stands by a river, on which side it presents piles

of towers and fortifications covered with slate, a severe specimen of

military architecture; while on the other side, the cour d’honneur, we see

one of the handsomest châteaux of the Renaissance yet remaining in

Brittany. This façade is richly ornamented with sculptures of varied and

fanciful design. Immense gurgoyles, in the form of serpents, stretching

from the roof to the base, pierced balustrades or galleries of lace-like

delicacy, in which are introduced, according to the fashion of the period,

the initial letters of the Vicomte Alain, A and V interlaced. The old

Rohan motto, "À plus," and the escutcheon of gules, nine mascles or

lozenges, occur in every part of this gorgeous front, and also on the

finely-carved chimneypiece of the reception room (salle d’honneur). The

whole of the château is in course of restoration by the Prince de Léon.

In the church of Josselin is the tomb of the Constable Clisson, with that

of Marguerite de Rohan his wife; both statues were mutilated in the

Revolution, but are now restored: they are of white marble on a black

slab. Clisson is in armour, Marguerite has her hair plaited and confined

in a network of pearls; she wears a long robe, with a surcoat above,

furred with ermine. The motto, "Pour ce qu’il me plest (plait)," is in an

oratory which belonged to Clisson, expressing his haughty and overbearing

will. This same motto appears on his seal, affixed to a letter preserved

in the archives of the empire, and he is recorded to have had it inscribed

upon his Constable’s sword, which, like Du Guesclin, he always wore

unsheathed, to show he was ready at all times to fight the enemies of the

crown.

There hangs in the church a picture of the finding of the image Notre

Dame-du-Roncier, of which we relate the legend:—

Long before Josselin was a town, a poor labourer had remarked, on the spot

where now stands the church of Notre Dame, a bramble bush, which the frost

and snow of the roughest winters never deprived of its leaves, but it

always remained fresh and green. Surprised at this strange phenomenon, he

dug the soil under the bramble, and discovered a wooden statue of the

Virgin. A marvellous light played round the head of the image. The man

carried it home; but next morning, to his surprise, he found the statue

under the same bush whence he had taken it. The miracle was repeated

several times, and soon attracted crowds of devotees. A chapel was built

to deposit the sacred image, houses followed next, and a little town

gradually formed, which the Comte de Porhoët surrounded with walls, and

Josselin, his son, endowed with his name, 1030. Such was the rise of

Josselin. A celebrated pilgrimage still exists to Josselin on Whit

Tuesday, resorted to by crowds of "aboyeuses" or barkers, people possessed

with this kind of epilepsy, said to be hereditary in several families, and

which is accounted for from the circumstance of a party of washerwomen

having refused a glass of water to the Vierge du Ronçier, who went to them

disguised in the garb of a beggar. The merciless creatures set their dogs

upon the pretended mendicant, and thus brought down upon themselves and

their posterity this fearful malediction. The disease is supposed to

return periodically about Whitsuntide, and only to leave the afflicted

when they are carried forcibly to the sanctuary of Notre Dame to press

with their foaming lips the fragments still remaining of the ancient

miraculous statue which was burnt upon the public Place in the time of the

French Revolution.

We left Ploërmel at four o’clock in the morning for Montfort-sur-Mer,

passing through Plélan; while the horses baited at a little auberge we got

some hot coffee, and found a good fire in the kitchen. The landlady, shut

in her "lit clos," did not disturb herself, but occasionally put out her

head to give directions for our breakfast. On the left of the road is the

forest of Paimpont, which formerly extended from Montfort to Rostrenan, a

kind of neutral desert land, called Brocéliande, and famous, under that

name, in the history of King Arthur. It was the theatre of the fairies’

most wondrous enchantments. Here was the fountain of Youth and also that

of Barenton, where they came every day to draw water in an emerald basin.

Here, too, the enchanted Merlin has lain sleeping for centuries,

enthralled by his pupil the fairy Viviana, who has cast a spell upon her

master she knows not how to break.

Montfort, where we joined the railway, is celebrated for the legend of the

duck and its ducklings, and was the residence of the De Montfort family

until Guy Comte de Laval and Sire de Montfort married Françoise de Dinan,

widow of the unfortunate Gilles de Bretagne, when the Montforts left their

paternal demesne for the châteaux of Laval, Vitré, and Châteaubriant.

The railway took us to Rennes, an uninteresting modern French town, the

old town was burnt down in 1720, and straight streets have risen up, with

no traces of its having been once the ancient capital of Brittany. Indeed,

so French is it altogether, that the saying runs—"Bon Breton de Vannes,

bon Français de Rennes." It was here that Constance, heiress of the duchy,

held her court, with Geoffrey Plantagenet, who, with their unfortunate son

Arthur, were the only Plantagenets, dukes of Brittany. On the murder of

Arthur, his sister Alice carried the ducal crown to her husband, Pierre de

Dreux (called Mauclerc, from his animosity to the clergy), and from them

descended the dukes of Brittany down to Queen Anne, whose double marriage

conveyed the duchy to France and the Valois.

When Henry IV. made his solemn entry into Rennes, the Governor presented

him with the three silver-gilt keys of the city, of rich workmanship; upon

which the King observed, "Elles étaient belles, mais qu’il aimait mieux

les clefs des cœurs des habitants."

The following year we made a tour along the banks of the Loire, and at

Angers embarked on board the steamer for Nantes. The scenery down the

Loire is rich, and the hills covered with vineyards, islands planted with

willows, and sunny villages, or occasionally a gloomy fortress comes to

view. Ingrandes is the frontier town, half in Anjou and half in Brittany,

between the modern departments of Loire Inférieure and Maine-et-Loire.

Lower down is St. Florent (Maine-et-Loire), with its recollections of the

wonderful passage of the Loire by the Vendean army, so graphically related

by Madame de la Rochejacquelin, and near the island of Meilleraie, where

their brave General Bonchamps expired, after the fatal engagement of

Chollet; his last act being the saving the lives of four thousand

prisoners shut up in the church, and about to be executed by the

exasperated Vendeans. "Grâce aux prisonniers" were his dying words.

Opposite St. Florent is Varades, where the Vendeans landed after crossing

the Loire. Only a feeble post opposed them. Had the republicans lost less

time, and sent a force after their victory at Chollet, much calamity would

have been spared to Brittany, and the Royalists themselves would have been

saved the terrible defeats of Le Mans and Savenay.

Passing Ancenis, which rises in an amphitheatre on the vine-clothed hills,

and, with its suspension-bridge, is one of the most picturesque points in

the river, we reached Oudon, with its tall octagonal tower; on the left,

in the department of Maine-et-Loire, nearly opposite, stands the ruined

castle of Champtoceaux, where Duke John V. was kept a prisoner by the

implacable enemies of his house, the Penthièvre family.

Marguerite de Clisson, widow of Jean de Bretagne, Comte de Penthièvre,

lived in retirement in her stately fortress of Champtoceaux, with her

three sons, Oliver, Count of Blois, and his brothers. Marguerite inherited

the pride, hatred, and cruelty, of her father, without his chivalrous

loyalty and magnanimity. The kingdom was filled with troubles, and she

thought it a favourable moment for reviving the pretensions of her family.

John V. held his court at Nantes. She sent Oliver there to assure the Duke

that his mother and brother were ready to do him homage; and he swore, on

his own part, "de le servir envers et contre tous ceux qui peuvent vivre

et mourir." John, delighted, made the young man share his bed, and treated

him with the greatest distinction. Oliver expressed his regret that the

age and infirmities of his mother prevented her going to court, and

timidly insinuated the honour she would feel at a visit from the Duke. The

Duke consented, and, sending off his plate to Champtoceaux, started with

his brother-in-law, Count Oliver, and his attendants. Having passed the

little river which separates Anjou from Brittany, they saw a man throwing

the planks of the bridge into the water, and thus preventing the Duke’s

suite from following. At the same time, Charles de Penthièvre, Margaret’s

second son, issued suddenly from a wood with an escort of lances and

surrounded the Duke. There was no kind of indignity they did not make him

suffer. He was tied upon his horse like a criminal, and conducted first to

Clisson, Oliver leading him with a halter round his neck. The Penthièvres,

who would not let the place be guessed where they held their captive,

conducted him at night, sometimes on foot, from fortress to fortress, from

dungeon to dungeon; at the same time circulating the report that they had

drowned him in the Loire. As a last insult, they took him to Champtoceaux,

where Marguerite visited him in prison to exult over his misfortunes.

Meantime the Breton barons, indignant at the treason of which their

Sovereign was the victim, raised an army for his deliverance, and civil

war broke out with redoubled fury. His heroic wife, Jeanne de France,

showed an untiring energy to save him. Undaunted by the threats of the

Penthièvres,—who sent word to her, if she did not desist from hostilities

they would cut her husband in pieces, nor by the messages from the Duke

himself assuring her that her zeal would cost him his life,—she induced

her brother, the Dauphin, to order the Penthièvres not to attempt the life

of their prisoner; she besieged, one after the other, all their castles,

and at last compelled Marguerite to capitulate to save her own life.

Finding herself and family in a perilous position, Marguerite agreed that

the Duke should be released (he was at Clisson), and that she and her sons

should retire where they wished, on their promise to appear at the summons

of the Breton nobles. Immediately on his liberation, Duke John ordered the

destruction of Champtoceaux. A parliament assembled at Vannes in 1424,

condemned Marguerite and her sons to capital punishment, and declared all

the Penthièvre possessions to be forfeited to the State. But the culprits

had all escaped the kingdom, except the youngest son, William, a child

only ten years of age, who had been given as a hostage for the appearance

of his mother and brothers, and was condemned to languish for twenty-seven

years in prison, where he lost his eyesight—a victim to crimes in which he

had not been an accomplice. John had made a vow, during his detention, to

give, if he regained his liberty, to the church of Notre Dame at Nantes,

his weight in gold; and most conscientiously did he perform his promise,

for we read, "He placed himself in his war armour in the balance, and

caused the opposite scale to be filled with gold till it had attained the

weight of the first; that is to say, three hundred and eighty marks, seven

ounces"—which sum was delivered over to the church. Vows of this nature

are not unfrequently recorded. When Don Carlos, the ill-fated son of

Philip II., lay ill, he vowed to give to the Virgin, on his recovery, four

times his weight in gold plate, and seven times his weight in silver. The

vow was fulfilled; but the Prince was placed in the scale in a damask robe

and fur coat, and weighed only seventy-six pounds—so much was he reduced

by his long illness.

Nantes is a cheerful, busy, handsome city, but wanting in the picturesque

characteristics of the towns of Lower Brittany. Quimper, Vannes, Rennes,

and Nantes, have all been successively capitals of the duchy, but Nantes

was the usual residence of its dukes.

The cathedral contains its principal artistic monument, the tomb of Duke

Francis II. and his second wife, Marguerite de Foix, called "sein de lys,"

from the beauty of her complexion. It was erected by their daughter, the

Queen-Duchess Anne, and was executed by Michel Colomb, a sculptor of St.

Pol de Léon, originally a herd-boy. This monument, considered a

masterpiece of the Renaissance, is not copied from any Italian original,

but is entirely the offspring of the artist’s own fancy. There is much

simplicity in its design and execution. The tomb, about five feet high, is

of white marble, diapered with ermine and the letter F. On a black slab

repose the effigies of the Duke and Duchess, and at their feet are lying a

lion and a greyhound, holding their several escutcheons. Four large

allegorical figures are at each angle of the tomb, representing the

cardinal virtues. Justice carries the book of the laws, and the sword by

which she makes them respected. This figure is said to be the portrait of

the Duchess Anne. Temperance, in a monastic dress, is characterised by a

bit and a lantern. Prudence, double faced, holds a mirror and a compass,

and has a serpent at her feet. This figure is in the costume of a peasant

girl of St. Pol; the second face, that of an old man, is also in the dress

of Lower Brittany. Strength or Fortitude, handsome, resolute, and calm,

strangles a dragon with his grasp.

Upon the principal sides of the tomb are the twelve Apostles, and below,

in niches, sixteen mourners (pleureuses) in monastic habits, the faces and

hands white, the rest of the body black. The beautiful attitude of these

figures is much admired. Some are kneeling, others are seated—all in the

attitude and expression of prayer. This monument was originally in the

church of the Carmelites, whence it was transferred to the cathedral.

Besides the remains of Duke Francis and his two wives, it formerly

contained the heart of his daughter, the Queen-Duchess Anne, enshrined in

a golden case in the form of a heart, surmounted by a crown, and

surrounded by a cordelière; but the tomb was rifled during the Reign of

Terror. It now holds the remains of the Constable Duke Arthur III.

Duke John IV. also died at Nantes, after his long eventful reign, having

acquired a military glory which earned him the name of Conqueror, and

equalled that of Du Guesclin and Clisson. Twice he lost and twice he

regained his crown. He alienated Du Guesclin and his faithful subjects by

his partiality to England. The Bretons rose, and he fled to Edward III.;

but when Charles V. entered the duchy, with the intention of confiscating

it to the crown of France, the Bretons all united to defend their

nationality against the ambition of the French King, and recalled their

Sovereign. So great was the enthusiasm on his arrival at St. Malo, that

the nobles plunged into the water to approach his ship; and even the widow

of his rival, Charles of Blois, went to welcome him. His cowardly attempt

against the Constable Clisson again compromised his reputation, and was

disgracefully avenged upon his son by the implacable daughter of Clisson.

The old ducal castle still rises on the left bank of the river. It was

here Anne of Brittany was born, and here she married, 1499, her old

admirer, the chivalrous Duke of Orleans, then King Louis XII., according

to her stipulation, that the King, "viendra l’espouser en sa maison de

Nantes." Left at the age of eleven, by the death of her father, a prey to

claimants to her hand, which carried with it the powerful duchy of

Brittany, Anne was a prize worth a king’s seeking, even at a time when

there were so many other rich heiresses undisposed of—Mary of Burgundy,

Elizabeth of York, Isabella of Castille, and Catherine de Foix. Anne is

described as handsome, but slightly lame, generous, and gentle, but grave

and proud in her demeanour. Louis XII. called her his "fière Bretonne,"

and allowed her the uncontrolled government of Brittany, "tout ainsi que

si elle n’estoit point sa femme."

Though the wife of two Kings of France, Anne never forgot the interests of

her duchy, whose nationality she always strove to maintain with the

pertinacity of a true Breton, and showed herself, by her spirit and

independence, to be the most worthy of all her race to wear the ducal

crown. Jean Marot addresses her as "Royne incomparable, deux fois

devinement sacrée, Anne Duchesse de Bretagne."

Like most of the ladies of her age, Anne was an accomplished linguist. She

understood Latin and Greek, and most of the European languages. She

corresponded with her husband in Latin verse. Her letters, still extant,

breathe the most tender affection. One, written to him (1499) during the

Italian wars, begins, "Une épouse tendre et chérie écrit à son époux

encore plus chéri, l’objet à la fois de ses regrets et de son estime,

conduit par la gloire loin de sa patrie. Amante infortunée, il n’est pour

elle aucun instant sans alarmes. Quel malheur affreux que celui d’être

privé d’un Prince que l’on aime, d’un Prince plus amant qu’époux."

It was in this castle that Henry IV. signed his celebrated Edict of

Nantes, so fatally revoked by Louis XIV.

The Duc de Mercœur, when governor of Brittany, made Nantes a regular

fortified town. Having married Marie de Luxembourg, heiress of the house

of Penthièvre, he sought to secure to himself the duchy of Brittany, while

his brother, the Duke de Guise, aimed at the crown of France. Head of the

League in that province, he looked upon it as a means of attaining his

end: his wife joined him in his plans of ambition, and they by turns

tyrannized and caressed the Nantais, amusing them with fêtes, in which the

Duchess condescended to dance with the townsfolk. For twenty years Mercœur

held the province; but a peace was eventually signed between him and Henry

IV., through the mediation of Gabrielle d’Estrées, whose son César de

Vendôme, then four years of age, was affianced to the Duke de Mercœur’s

daughter, then only six. When Henry IV. made his entry into Nantes after

the pacification, he observed, on surveying the fortifications, "Ventre

Saint Gris, les Ducs de Bretagne n’étaient pas de petits compagnons."

Nantes has been the scene of many an act of vengeance on the part of the

Kings of France.

The Place du Bouffay, the place of execution, was the scene of the tragic

death of the young Henri de Talleyrand, Comte de Chalais, executed by

Louis XIII. for his part in the conspiracy which bears his name. Its

object was the death of the Cardinal, and to place the crown on the head

of the feeble Gaston, who was celebrating his marriage at Nantes at the

time that his victim Chalais was paying the penalty of his crime.

The restless, intriguing Cardinal de Retz was imprisoned in Nantes Castle

during the minority of Louis XIV., and made a wonderful escape by letting

himself down from the walls to the river, where a boat awaited him. It was

also at Nantes that the same monarch caused Fouquet to be arrested, not,

as alleged, for his malpractices in office, but because his ambition and

pomp offended the pride of his royal master.

For their part in the conspiracy of Cellamare, the Marquis de Poncallec

and three other Breton gentlemen suffered on the Place du Bouffay, and the

Vendean chief, La Charette, was also there shot in 1795.

Not far from the castle is the Rue Haute du Château. At the Maison Juigny,

in this street, the Duchesse de Berri was arrested, after having remained

sixteen hours concealed in an aperture behind a chimney on the third

floor, scarcely a foot and a half high and four feet long. The police,

having information of her being in the house, through the treachery of a

Jew, had made a fruitless search, but had left a watch behind. The

soldiers lighted a fire in the chimney, and the Duchess, with her three

attendants, sallied out, her dress completely scorched. They had endured

the heat, but were unable to bear the suffocation.

Nantes has some fine promenades and boulevards, planted with trees. In the

Cours Saint Pierre and St. André are statues of the Duchess Anne and of

the three Breton constables, Du Guesclin, Clisson, and Richmont.

One of the leading characteristics of Nantes is its numerous bridges: a

regular chain of them form a continuous line across the river and canals,

and others unite the islands which form the suburbs to the town itself.

The Museum contains a large collection of pictures, which the bequest of

the Duke de Feltre (Maréchal Clarke) has increased considerably. These

consist mostly of sketches by Paul Delaroche, and the charming Italian

subjects of Léopold Robert.

"L’enfant charitable"—a nun on her deathbed embracing a child who is

standing by her side, an angel behind—is a touching composition of Ary

Schäeffer. Another, by Paul Baudry, represents the death of Marat:

Charlotte Corday’s open, handsome face, looks incapable of the crime she

has just perpetrated. There is one by Ziegler—Daniel in the lion’s den—an

angel staying the lions from molesting him. The atmosphere of light

surrounding the angel is wonderful and unearthly. These two are in the

general collection, together with numerous examples of the old masters.

Near our hotel is one of the curiosities of Nantes, the Passage de la

Pommeraye, consisting of three stories of iron galleries or arcades,

uniting the Rue de Crébillon with the Rue de la Fosse. The second arcade

communicates by a flight of stairs with the third, called the Galerie de

la Fosse, opening upon the street of that name.

The Garden of Plants is beautifully laid out; groves and avenues of

magnolias in full flower, with rocks, waterfalls, rustic bridges, all most

picturesquely disposed, making it one of the prettiest gardens and public

promenades in France.

We descended the Loire by steamer, passing by vast granite buildings,

built as magazines for colonial imports, called Les Salorges, in front of

which the horrible noyades of Carrier took place, and these warehouses

served as a temporary place of confinement for the victims. We next

steamed past the island of Indret, the great manufacture of steam-engines

for the State. Here we landed some market women, in caps of the same form,

with high combs, as those of clear muslin worn by the Nantaises, only of a

coarse material, and edged with black. On the right was Couëron, where

Duke Francis II. died in consequence of a fall from his horse. The battle

of St. Aubin-du-Cormier had decided his fate and that of his daughters,—a

humiliation from which he never recovered. His faithful friend Rieux, who

commanded his army, defeated by the youthful Louis de la Trémouille; the

chivalrous Louis of Orleans, a prisoner in an iron cage in the "Grosse

Tour" at Bourges; and the safety of his daughters at the mercy of King

Charles VIII., or worse, of his imperious sister, the Regent Anne de

Beaujeu, who would have committed some act of spoliation, had not the

Chancellor Rochefort saved the duchy by his integrity, declaring to Anne

that "a conqueror without right is but an illustrious robber."

At Les Pellerins, barges were loading with hay, and heaps of it standing

on the river’s edge ready for embarkation. On the left bank is Paimbœuf,

where diligences run to Pornic, a favourite little watering-place south of

the Loire.

St. Nazaire is a bustling seaport town, now the point of departure of the

transatlantic steamers for the West Indies and Mexico. A Mexican, in his

picturesque costume, all the seams of his dress fringed with hanging

silver buttons, was living in the same hotel with ourselves. St. Nazaire

has now a large floating basin, opened in 1858, capable of holding 200

ships of large size, and another is in course of construction.