THE STORMY CÔTENTIN
This is an age of travel, and many persons are searching diligently for
some district intrinsically interesting and desirable, not too much
overrun by their kind, and above all not too inaccessible, wherein they
may take a holiday. Such a district there is in the Côtentin peninsula
jutting out from the north coast of France, one of the only two
peninsulas in Europe, by the way, which do point in that direction. It
is not only in position that the Côtentin resembles Denmark, but also
in race; here and here alone in Normandy may still be found men of the
same blood as the Conqueror.
In conformation the Côtentin peninsula is akin to Brittany, being
almost entirely of granite, which ancient formation extends over the
whole district, with the exception of a strip south of La Hogue, on the
western coast. The landscape is such as is generally found in granite
countries, broken and varied, with stern coasts and massive cliffs,
which are continually breaking away and letting the sea eat into the
land. It is said that at one time Jersey was divided by only a narrow
river from the mainland, and now with the recession of the coast it
is far out to sea. Not only in scenery is the Côtentin a delightful
place for a holiday, but in more unusual attractions. Its heights
and hollows are studded with architectural remains, proud and stern
chateaux, now for the most part occupied as farmhouses; its annals are
as full of skirmishes and romantic stories as our own border country.
Within a ten-mile radius of Valognes to the west and south, we find
the chateaux of St Martin le Hebert, Bricbecque, Nehou, Vicomte St
Sauveur, Crosville, Urville, and Flottemanville. Further south are
the ruins of the ancient castle of La Haye du Puits. Of all these,
Bricbecque and St Sauveur are the best known. Bricbecque stands up
stern and strong still, a majestic ruin; in its courtyard is the hotel,
and the far-stretching walls tell of its previous extent. The Sire of
Bricbecque was nearly always at enmity with the Sire of St Sauveur, and
the two regarded each other with great jealousy. St Sauveur was the
more powerful, and in the time of the Conqueror its chieftain Neel, or
Nigel, held the title of Premier Baron or Vicomte of the Côtentin. He
it was who joined the conspiracy against William, to whom his father
had been a loyal and true vassal; and he was among those horsemen who
entered Valognes by stealth in order to seize William unawares
and assassinate him. The story of the duke’s escape and the subsequent
fight at Val-ès-Dunes has already been told. Yet after Neel had made
his submission, William forgave him, and in time restored him to his
castle, though the lands which Neel had held in Guernsey were handed
over to the Church as an act of reparation. In this was only completed
what his father had begun, for the elder Neel had given largely to the
Church.
[Illustration: A HOLIDAY HEAD-DRESS]
Neel’s line ended in a daughter, who carried the castle by marriage to
Tesson Jourdain, and from the Jourdains it passed, also by marriage, to
the Harcourts. In the reign of Edward III. of England, the chieftain
Harcourt rebelled against the French king, and joined Edward in his
attempts on France. He was once pardoned, but again turned traitor, and
was finally killed fighting gallantly enough with his back against a
tree, all alone in the midst of the soldiers sent to take him by the
King of France. After his death the castle continued in the hands of
the English, under Sir John Chandos, who built the splendid keep or
tower which still stands; and when Sir John fell, his company held on
until, in 1372, the whole force of France was brought to bear on them,
and the men who had ravaged the country and behaved like robber barons
for three years were forced to come to an agreement. They were allowed
to go out with the honours of war, however. Once again, in the reign
of Henry V., the castle was in English hands, but with the rest of
Normandy became French in 1450.
The fine abbey founded by Neel still remains, though it has been so
largely restored as to be almost new built; one splendid aisle arcade
remains to tell us of its ancient origin. It now is the home of the
Sisters de la Miséricorde, while the castle, after its stormy career,
has settled into a peaceful old age as a hospice for old people and
children. Bricbecque belonged to the Bertrands, from whom the earls of
Huntley and Dudley claim descent; then to the Paisnels, and then to the
D’Estoutevilles. The castle is now a splendid ruin, with a high and
massive donjon keep, a deep, dark, tunnel archway, a smaller tower, and
a great part of the encircling wall. In the courtyard, enclosed within
part of the ruin, is the Hotel des Voyageurs.
Of the older part of La Haye du Puits there is only a ruined donjon,
but the castles of Crosville and Flottemanville stand in good
preservation, though fallen from their high estate to the condition of
farmhouses. The splendid tower at Crosville, with its bastion turret,
is well worth seeing, and the large room, probably the banqueting-hall,
is still decorated on ceiling and frieze and panels with paintings
done in the sixteenth century, showing that up till then it still
remained the dwelling of the great ones of the land. Flottemanville is
as attractive in a rather different style. They all have features in
common these castles: the keep or tower for defence, their proximity
to the church, and their massive walls, probably dating in their
foundations from William’s own time, but rebuilt at a later date, as by
his order all these strongholds were destroyed after Val-ès-Dunes. But
those we have mentioned are only a few of the principal survivals amid
the numerous castles that stud the district.
Valognes itself has been from very early times a centre of gaiety, and
this reputation lasted up to the eighteenth century. At present it is
a quiet yet busy town. It is built on no fixed plan; its streets run
anyhow. In the centre is the church, which is quite peculiar, being
surmounted by both a spire and a dome of different dates. The main part
is of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, but the dome was added in
1612. Inside there is some superb wood-carving.
In the streets of Valognes, and everywhere in the neighbourhood, may be
seen a curious cap worn by the women. It is edged in front by a high
upstanding ruche of black and white, with the ends frayed out, giving
the appearance of feathers, and the whole at a little distance is not
unlike an Indian headdress. Everywhere in the Côtentin one meets among
the strong-faced farmers men who might have been blood-brothers to
William, men with square faces, thin lips, and stern features. They are
often of massive build, and though not excessively tall, certainly of
greater height than the ordinary French agricultural class. The Danish
blood has remained here with strange persistency throughout generation
after generation: these men are not Frenchmen at all. You feel it the
moment you encounter them; they are a northern race with northern
characteristics.
Not far from Valognes, in its suburb Alleaumes, are the ruins of the
castle where William was staying when he made his midnight escape.
Besides the history connected with its castles, the peninsula has
annals of its own. As the northern coast was a very convenient
landing-place from England, it was often the Côtentin which bore the
first brunt of an English engagement. Edward the Confessor landed here
on mischief bent, but was driven back by the inhabitants, who rose as
one man under Neel the Elder.
[Illustration: CHERBOURG]
While William the Red reigned in England, and the feeble Robert was
nominal Duke of Normandy, Henry Beauclerc descended upon the Côtentin,
and ruled it for many years. His rule was firm and good, and he was
popular, and the peninsula consequently enjoyed far more prosperity
than the rest of distracted Normandy. Henry’s power extended as far
south as Domfront, for the titles of Count of Mortain and Count of
the Côtentin still went together. When Henry became King of England
he yielded the Côtentin to Robert, until he won it back again by his
sword. When Edward III. swooped down upon France he passed through
the whole district capturing, burning, and destroying, and none
could stand up against his army. Again, when Henry V. made an effort
to retrieve the domains which had belonged to his forefathers, the
Côtentin was swept from end to end. In the religious wars, once again
the town was in the midst of turmoil, but it yielded to Henri IV. after
the battle of Ivry.
We have specialised only on a very small part of the Côtentin, and that
the least known, but it is impossible to leave without mention of the
famous port of Cherbourg, the finest harbour in France. The records of
Cherbourg go back to the sixth century, when a saint named Scubilion
is said to have resided here, and even before Scubilion’s day, a
still mistier and a nameless saint had landed here, and converted the
inhabitants. The breakwater at Cherbourg, finished in 1853, can hold a
fleet at anchor, and is guarded by forts.
The town of Cherbourg is said to derive its name from Cæsar’s Bourg,
but the derivation is very doubtful. William the Conqueror founded here
a college, which his granddaughter, Matilda or Maude, incorporated
into a new monastery of her own. The castle was a great favourite with
Henry I. It was here he had been staying in November 1120, when he
set sail from Barfleur, leaving the merry company of young nobles to
follow with his son and daughter in the _White Ship_. History gives it
that the prince himself might have been saved after the fatal wreck
had he not returned at the cry of his sister, who had been left on the
wreck, whereupon so many leapt into the boat that it was swamped. How
persistently the fact that only a butcher of Rouen was saved, impresses
itself upon the childish mind, so that years after, when we have
forgotten far more important things, we still remember it!
Before we leave the Côtentin altogether, we may mention that delightful
chronicler Wace, to whom we owe so much, and who wrote with the ease
and picturesqueness of a Pepys, in an age when composition was a
serious and dry-as-dust matter. Wace was born in Jersey about 1100-20,
therefore he was a native of the Côtentin, in which Jersey was then
included. He is reported to have lived to the age of eighty-four, and
to have died in England. His life was contemporary with the reigns of
Henry I., Stephen, Henry II., and Richard I., and that which he records
before 1100 was told to him by word of mouth, partly by his father, to
whom he makes reference. His chronicle, which is in the form of a poem,
is called the _Roman de Rou_ (or Rollo), and the English translation of
it goes no further back than William I. Wace is the most delightful and
interesting of chroniclers in an age which was singularly rich. Robert
of Jumièges, Ordericus Vitalis, and others have left us accounts as
full as any modern newspaper report, of what happened in their days,
and they are only the leaders among a host of lesser men.