LUDE--SAUMUR REVISITED--THE GARDEN--LA PETITE VOISINE--THE RETIRED
MILITAIRE--LES PIERRES COUVERTES--LES PETITES
PIERRES--LOUDUN--URBAIN GRANDIER--RICHELIEU--THE NUNS--THE
VICTIM--THE FLY--THE MALLE POSTE--THE DISLODGED SERPENTS.
LEAVING Le Mans, and all its recollections, we continued our way towards
the Loire, which we proposed crossing at Saumur, not only with a
pleasing memory of our former visit there, when the sight of Fontevraud
and its treasured tombs of our English kings first delighted us, but
because, with all my wish to leave nothing unnoticed in the interesting
towns of France, I had quitted Saumur without having made a _pilgrimage_
to some of its most singular and important monuments. It was only on
reading a passage in Michelet's History of France, when he alludes to
the "_prodigious Dolmen_" of Saumur, that I found there was still
something of interest which I had neglected. Doubtless this has often
been the case in my wanderings; and, probably, there is scarcely a town
where some new treasure may not be discovered by some fresh traveller,
where there is so much to excite attention.
I determined, therefore, to pause at Saumur, to enjoy its beauties once
more, and pass a day with its Druids.
Lude was in our way, where, on the banks of the Loire, stands a
magnificent castle; now a private residence, kept up in great style, and
surrounded with beautiful gardens, better attended to than any I ever
saw in France, where the name of _Jardin Anglais_ is, usually, another
term for a wilderness. Lude belonged to a Breton nobleman, M. de
Faltröet, and now to his son, for the inhabitants were just deploring
his recent death, and, what is sufficiently unusual in France, naming a
man of rank with respect and affection. He appears to have been one of
the most amiable and considerate of men, and to be sincerely lamented.
The young woman from the inn, who was our guide there, spoke of his
death with great sorrow, and was eloquent in his commendation, as the
friend of the people and the poor.
The castle is very extensive and in high preservation: we could not see
the interior, which I am told is very interesting: rooms being named
after Francis I. and Henry IV., who are both said to have visited here;
and the furniture of their time is preserved or introduced. The exterior
walls are adorned with medallions of extraordinary size, in the style
peculiar to Francis I., and the huge round towers are similarly
decorated: much of the building between these towers is of more modern
date, but all is in good keeping and handsome. Several fine willows dip
their boughs into the river, which bathes one side--but what was the
moat on all the others, is now filled up with flowering trees and
shrubs, and the ramparts laid out in terraces, covered with a luxuriant
growth of every kind of rare and graceful plant. There is a charming
view from the gardens, and the abode altogether is delightful.
The country is rich and fertile, covered with fields of Indian corn,
flax, and hemp; here and there are large plantations of fir-trees; the
chestnut-trees we observed were very luxuriant, loaded with fruit; the
apples thickly clustered in the numerous orchards, and everything
abundant and smiling.
We rejoiced at once more beholding the Loire at the spot where, on our
former visit, we most admired it. Saumur is, however, greatly increased
and improved during the three years which had elapsed since we first
made its acquaintance. New houses are built, old ones pulled down, and
active measures taken to beautify and adorn the town. The same
slovenliness struck us as before on the promenade by the river, where
the idea of sweeping up fallen leaves, or cleaning steps, never seems to
have occurred, and the theatre walls look as desolate and
ill-conditioned as formerly. The baths, which attracted my admiration
before, seated on an islet amidst flowering shrubs, had lost the
brightness of their then newly-painted outside, and had rather a forlorn
effect; the old Hôtel de Ville and its towers and turrets looked as
venerable as ever, and the Loire showed much less sand and more of its
crystal water. The magnificent Donjon towered majestically on its
height, and all the caves of the chain of rocks beneath showed their
mysterious openings as when they first excited my surprise.
We visited almost all our old friends--the venerable monuments of times
gone by--in the town, and discovered several towers which the removal of
houses have rendered evident. We were remarking a building of this kind,
whose turrets could have been erected only by Foulques Nera himself,
when we were invited into a garden opposite by the proprietors, who took
an interest in our curiosity. This garden, and the family that owned it,
were quite _unique_ in their way; the master was a retired _militaire_,
the mistress a smart, managing woman; and their delight and treasure a
little boy of about ten, and a tiny garden enclosed between two walls,
with a pavilion at each end, and filled with shrubs and flowers
exquisitely beautiful, and tended as garden never was tended since Eve
herself spent all her time in restraining the growth of her garlands.
Tea-scented roses, roses of all hues and perfumes, rare plants, seldom
seen but in hot-houses, all fresh and flourishing, occupied every nook
of this little retreat, the _délices_, as they assured us, of this
couple, whose content and satisfaction at the perfection of their
dwelling overflowed at every word. "You see," said the hostess, as she
led us through the little alleys, and made us pause at the minute
alcoves--"nothing can be more complete; we have a perfect little
paradise of flowers, and a little world of our own; we have no occasion
to go out to be amused, for, let us throw open our _jalousies_ in our
_salon_ at the corner of this tower, and we see all the world without
being seen; when we shut it we are in solitude, and what can we require
beyond? My little son," she continued, pointing to the other object of
her care, who was seated beside a pretty little girl, tuning a small
instrument, "occupies himself with his violin, and he can touch the
guitar prettily, also; he is now playing to a _petite voisine_ who often
comes to keep him company: he has considerable parts, and is well
advanced in his Latin. We let our large house to M. le Curé, and live in
the small one at the other end of our garden; it is large enough for us,
and nothing can be so convenient."
While she continued to converse, setting forth the advantages of her
position, the _bon garçon_ of a husband, who seemed second in command,
followed with assenting smiles. I asked if he smoked in his little
summer-house sometimes, but saw that my question was _mal-à-propos_, for
his wife replied quickly, that he had not that bad habit, and, indeed,
would not endure smoking any more than herself. He looked somewhat slily
as he remarked, that since he had left the army he had never _indulged_
in it.
We returned to our inn laden with bouquets, forced upon us by these
happy, hospitable people, whose content, and the beauty of their little
garden, so like numerous others in charming Saumur, confirmed our notion
of its being the most agreeable place in France to live at.
The evening was oppressively hot, and we walked on the fine bridge,
hoping to meet a breeze. The shallow river was like glass, so
transparent, that every pebble seemed clearly defined at the bottom.
Sunset made the sky one sheet of ruby colour, and the stars, rising in
great splendour, shone with dazzling brilliancy; the deep purple of the
glowing night which succeeded was like sapphire, every building, every
tower, every hill, was mirrored in the waters, and the spires of every
church threw their delicate lines along the still expanse. The gigantic
castle looked down from its height as if protecting all; and the few
white motionless sails at a distance, pausing near the willowy islands,
where not a leaf moved, made the whole like enchantment. I never beheld
a more exquisite night, nor saw a more beautiful scene.
The next day was brilliant; but the stillness of the air had given place
to a fresh wind, which made our long walk across the Roman arched
bridge, towards the famous _Pierres Couvertes_, less fatiguing. Though
the way to it is by nearly a league of hot dusty road, yet the surprise
and pleasure of the sight on arriving at this extraordinary monument
quite repays all toil.
In a woody dell, not far from the main road, stand these wonderful
stones, in all their mysterious concealment, puzzling the mind and
exciting the imagination with their rude forms and simple contrivances.
Before we left England we had made an excursion to Stonehenge, that most
gigantic of all Druidical remains, and had carried with us a perfect
recollection of all its proportions. The temple of Saumur is not a
quarter its height, but is _entirely covered_ in, and apparently of
_ruder_ construction, there being no art whatever used to keep the
stones together except that of placing them one over the other. We
measured the length and height in the best way we could, and found it to
be eighteen yards long, from the entrance to the back, which is closed
in by a broad flat stone, five yards and a-half in length within and
eight yards without. The height is not more than three yards from the
ground; but it has evidently sunk in the earth considerably. The sides
incline inwards, leaving the covering stones projecting like a cottage
roof, and the great stone at the back has also lost its perpendicular;
nevertheless, there are none displaced of this chamber. It appears, by
several broad slabs which lie scattered about, that there must have been
more compartments of the temple: an outer court existed, and a narrower
part at the entrance, the stones of which are still upright.
This treasure is preserved from injury by a palisade round the piece of
ground on which it stands, in its little grove, and a wooden door shuts
it in, which is in the custody of an old woman who keeps a school close
by and receives the offerings of the curious. Her pupils, of tender age,
pursue some of their studies in a small hall where she presides; but
their chief pursuit seems to be amusement, to judge by the laughter and
general hilarity which prevailed, as they ran gambolling amongst the
venerable shades, peeping slily at the strangers, whose contemplations
they were commanded not to interrupt.
From the _Grandes Pierres Couvertes_, we continued our way, through
vines and fields, to the top of a neighbouring hill, which commanded a
charming view of the town and castle, and fine country round. There, in
the midst of heath and wild thyme and nodding harebells, at the
extremity of a ploughed field, overhanging a deep rocky road, stands
another temple of the Gauls. It is called _Les Petites Pierres
Couvertes_, and is similar in construction to the large one, but not a
quarter its size. Its position is most picturesque, and the landscape
spread out before its rugged arch exquisite. It is covered in, and its
walls are firm and close; though, from its exposed situation, one would
expect that it must long ago have fallen. Remains of large stones lie
around, partly covered with vegetation, and many, no doubt, are embedded
in the earth. Perhaps the two temples communicated once on a time, and
covered the whole space between; where probably waved a gigantic forest.
The wind had risen violently as we sat, in the sun, beside the _Petites
Pierres_, and our walk back to Saumur promised us a great deal of dust,
for we saw it eddying in the valleys beneath, like wreaths of mist. We,
however, contrived to avoid the high road, and found our way, by a very
pleasant path, to the town, before the threatened storm arrived which
night brought.
By a fine star-light evening of the following day, which we had spent
amongst the hills and in visiting the fortifications of the castle, we
took our departure for Poitiers--the next great object of our interest.
We reached Loudun in the dark, consequently had no opportunity of
judging of its appearance; but, as far as we could observe, there seemed
little to please the eye. The place itself is no further interesting
than as having been the scene of that frightful tragedy which disgraced
the seventeenth century, and which, though a story often told, may not
be familiar to every reader; at least, its particulars may not
immediately recur to all who hear the name of Loudun. The revolution
which destroyed so much, has left scarcely any traces of the famous
convent of Ursulines, where the scenes took place which cast a
disgraceful celebrity on its community.
The curé and canon of St. Peter of Loudun, was a young man, named Urbain
Grandier, remarkable not only for his learning and accomplishments, but
for his great beauty, and the grace of his manners, together with a
certain air of the world, which was, perhaps, an unfortunate distinction
for one in his position. His gallantry and elegance would have graced a
Court, but his lot had cast him where such _agrémens_ were not only
unnecessary, but misplaced. Urbain had, besides, been favoured by
fortune, in having obtained two benefices; a circumstance witnessed
with envy by several of the ecclesiastics, his contemporaries; who felt
themselves thrown constantly into the shade by his superiority in this
as in other respects. The priests, his companions, were not inclined to
be indulgent to any weakness shown by their young and admired rival; the
husbands of some of his fair parishioners looked on him with an evil
eye, while the ladies themselves could see nothing to blame in his
deportment, ever devoted and amiable as he was to them. All the learned
men of the country sought his society; all the well-meaning and generous
spirits of the neighbourhood found answering virtues in Urbain Grandier,
and he was not aware that he had an enemy in existence.
He had forgotten that he had once been so unfortunate as to offend a man
who never forgave, and who, from being merely the prior of Coussay, had
risen to a high rank in the church, and was now all-powerful, and able
to take revenge for any petty injury long past, but carefully treasured,
to be repaid with interest when occasion should serve.[3]
[Footnote 3: A wretched and pointless satire had appeared under the
title of _La Cordonnière de Loudun_, in which the Cardinal figured: Père
Joseph insinuated that Grandier was the author, and the supposed insult
was readily credited.]
The Cardinal de Richelieu, from the height of his grandeur, suddenly
condescended to remember his old acquaintance, the curé Grandier, and
was only on the look-out for a moment at which to prove to him that
nothing of what had once passed between them had escaped his
recollection. A means was soon presented, and, without himself appearing
too prominently in the affair, the cardinal arrived at his desired end.
It happened that some young and giddy pupils of the Convent of
Ursulines, bent on a frolic, resolved to terrify the bigoted and
ignorant nuns of the community, by personating ghosts and goblins, and
they succeeded to their utmost wishes, having acted their parts to
admiration; but they were far from dreaming of the fatal consequences of
their success.
The disturbed nuns, worried and frightened from their propriety, went in
a body to a certain curé, named Mignon, one of the most spiteful and
envious of Grandier's rivals, and related to him the fact of their
convent being disturbed by ghostly visitants, who left them no peace or
rest. The thought instantly occurred to Mignon, that he might turn this
accident to account at the expense of the handsome young priest whom he
detested.
Instead of ghosts and spirits, he changed the mystery into witchcraft
and _possession by the devil_, and contrived so artfully, that he
induced many of the nuns to imagine themselves a prey to the evil one,
and to assume all the appearance of suffering from the influence of
some occult power. His pupils became quite expert in tricks of
demoniacal possession, falling into convulsions and trances, and going
through all the absurdities occasionally practised at the present day,
by the disciples of Mesmer. These foolish, rather than wicked, women,
were led to believe that, by acting thus, they were advancing the
interests of religion, and they allowed themselves to fall blindly into
the scheme, devised for the purpose of ruining the devoted curé. A
public exorcism took place, at which scenes of absurdity, difficult to
be credited, took place, and when the possessed persons were questioned
as to how they became a prey to the evil spirit, they declared that the
devil had entered into them by means of a bouquet of roses, the perfume
of which they had inhaled; when asked by whom these flowers had been
sent them, they replied that it was Urbain Grandier! This was enough to
seal his doom; on the 3d of December, 1633, the Councillor Laubardemont
arrived secretly at Loudun, caused the young curé to be arrested, as he
was preparing to go to church, and had him carried off to the castle of
Angers. The devils, supposed to possess the nuns, were severally
questioned, _and replied_, they were Astaroth, of the _order of_
Seraphins, the head and front of all, Easas, Celcus, Acaos, Cedon,
Asmodeus, _of the order_ of Thrones, Alez, Zabulon, Nephtalim, Cham,
Uriel, Achas, of the order of Principalities! In the following April he
was brought back to Loudun, and consigned to the prison there. The farce
of exorcism was now recommenced; but the fatigue of sustaining the parts
they had assumed, and perhaps a conviction of the fearful nature of the
deceptions they had practised, caused some of the actors in this drama
to rebel, and they actually made a public retractation of what they had
before advanced.
It was, however, now too late; no notice was taken of their denial of
their former charges against the victim whose fate was agreed upon, and
in August, 1634, a commission was duly appointed, at the head of which
were Laubardemont and his satellites, who pronounced Urbain Grandier
guilty, and convicted of the crime of magic. His sentence condemned him
to be burned alive, but, resolved to carry vengeance to the utmost
extent, he was made to undergo the torture, suffering pangs too horrible
to think of. He was then conveyed to Poitiers, where he suffered at the
stake, and by his unmerited fate left an indelible blot on the age in
which such monstrous cruelty could be perpetrated, or such ignorant
barbarity tolerated. He endured his torments with patience and
resignation. While he was suffering, a large fly was observed to hover
near his head. A monk, who was enjoying the spectacle of his execution,
and who had heard that Béelzébub, in Hebrew, signified _the God of the
Flies_, cried out, much to the edification of all present, "Behold
yonder, the devil, Beelzebub, flying round Grandier ready to carry off
his soul to hell!"[4]
[Footnote 4: A very excellent picture on this subject, by Jouy, is in
the Musée at Bordeaux: I did not see it, but it has been described to me
by a person on whose judgment I can depend, who considers it of very
high merit, and worthy of great commendation.]
The unpleasant recollections raised by the neighbourhood of Loudun were
dispelled as we hurried on to the next post, which was at Mirebeau,
where we were not a little entertained at the primitive manner in which
our _malle poste_ delivered and received its despatches. The coach
stopped in the middle of the night in the silent streets of Mirebeau,
and the conductor, stationing himself beneath the window of a dwelling,
called loudly to the sleepers within; no answer was returned, nor did he
repeat his summons; but waited, with a patience peculiar to
_conducteurs_, who do not care to hurry their horses, till a rattling on
the wall announced the approach of a basket let down by a string. Into
this he put the letters he had brought, and it re-ascended; after
waiting a reasonable time, the silent messenger returned, and from it a
precious packet was taken; nothing was said, the _conducteur_ resumed
his seat on the box, the horses were urged onwards, and we rattled
forward on our way to Poitiers.
Mirebeau, though now an insignificant bourg, was formerly a place of
some consequence. Its château was built by Foulques Nera, the redoubted
Count of Anjou; and here, in 1202, Elionor of Aquitaine sustained a
siege directed against her by the partisans of the Count of Bretagne,
her grandson. Close by is a village, the lord of which had an hereditary
privilege sufficiently ludicrous.
It appears that at Puy Taillé there must have been a remarkable number
of serpents, who refused to listen to the voice of the charmer until the
lord of the castle, _wiser_ than any other exorciser, took them in hand.
He was accustomed, at a certain period, to set forth in state, and,
placing himself at a spot where he presumed he should be heard, raised
his voice, and, in an authoritative tone, commanded the refractory
animals to quit his estates. Not one dared to refuse; and great was the
rustling, and hissing, and sliding, and coiling as the serpentine nation
prepared to _déménager_, much against their inclination no doubt, but
forced, by a power they could not withstand, to obey. None of these
creatures interrupted our route, although there has long ceased to be a
lord at Puy Taillé, and we arrived before day-break safely at the Hôtel
de France, at Poitiers.