Read Ebook: The Railway Conquest of the World by Talbot Frederick Arthur Ambrose

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Ebook has 1558 lines and 121854 words, and 32 pages

OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

INTRODUCTION

Honfleur--Dejazet--The Sailor Prince--Le Mari--Lisieux--La Croix Blanche--Arrival at Falaise--Guibray--Castle of Falaise--The little Recess--Arlette--The Father--The Infant Hero--The Uncle--Arlette's Tears--Her Reception.

Prince Arthur--Want of Gallantry Punished--The Recreant Sow--The Rocks of Noron--La Grande Eperonni?re--Le Camp-ferme--Antiquities of Falaise--Alen?on--Norman Caps--Geese--Le Mans--Tomb of B?rang?re--Cathedral--Ancient Remains--Streets--The Veiled Figure.

Tomb of B?rang?re--Wives of Coeur de Lion--Tombs--Abbey Churches--Ch?teau of Le Mans--De Craon--The Spectre of Le Mans--The Vend?eans--Madame de la Roche-Jaquelin--A Woman's Perils--Disasters of the Vend?eans--Henri--Chouans.

The Museum of Le Mans--Venus--Mummy--Geoffrey-le-Bel--His Costume--Matilda--Scarron--H?lie de la Fl?che--Rufus--The White Knight.

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.

Poitiers--Battles--The Armies--King John of France--The Young Warrior--H?tel des Vreux--Amphitheatre--Blossac--The Great Stone--The Scholars--Museum--The Demon's Stone--Grande Gueule.

Notre Dame--The Keys--The Miracle--Procession--St. Radegonde--Tomb of the Saint--Foot-print--Little Loubette--The Count Outwitted--The Cordelier--Late Justice--The Templars.

Ch?teau de la F?e--King Ren?--The Miniatures--The Post-Office Functionary--Originality--The English Bank-note--St. Porchaire--The Dead Child--Montierneuf--Guillaume Guy Geoffroy--Thomas ? Becket--Choir of Angels--Relics--The Armed Hermit--A Saint--The Repudiated Queen--Elionore--The Bold Priest--Lay.

Melusine--Lusignan--Trou de la F?e--The Legend--Male Curiosity--The Discovery--The Fairy's Shrieks--The Chronicler--Geoffrey of the Great Tooth--Jaques Coeur--Royal Gratitude--Enemies--Jean du Village--Wedding--The Bride--The Tragedy of Mauprier--The Garden--The Shepherdess--The Walnut-Gatherers--La G?tine--St. Maixant--Niort--Madame de Maintenon--Enormous Caps--Chamois Leather--Duguesclin--The Dame de Plainmartin--The Sea.

La Rochelle--Les Trois Chandeliers--Oysters--Bathing Establishment--Gaiety--Military Discipline--Curious Arcades--Story of Auffr?dy.

Towers--Religion--Maria Belandelle--Storm--Protestant Retreat--Solemn Dinners--"Half-and-half"--Go to sleep!--The Brewery--Gas Establishment--Ch?teau of La Font--The Mystery explained--Triumph of Scenery over Appetite--Slave Trade--Charles le Bien Servi--Liberality of Louis-Philippe--Guiton--House of Le Maire Guiton--The Fleets--The Fight--The Mayor and the Governor.

Rochefort--The Curious Bonne--Americanisms--Convicts--The Charente--"Tulipes"--Taillebourg--Henry the Third--St. Louis--False Security--Romegoux--Puytaill?

Saintes--Roman Arch of Triumph--Gothic Bridge--The Cours--Ruined City--Cathedral--Coligny--Ruined Palace--St. Eutrope--Amphitheatre--Legend of Ste. Eustelle--The Prince of Babylon--F?te--The C?teau--Ste. Marie

Fr?re Chr?tien--Utility of Custom-house Search--Bold Voyager--Pauillac--Blaye--The Gironde--Talbot--Vines--The Landes--Phantom of King Arthur--The Witch-finder--The Landes--Wreckers

Ports--Divona--Bordeaux--Quinconces--All?es--First Impression--Chartrons--Bahutier--Bacalan--Quays--White Guide--Ste. Croix--St. Michel--St. Andr?--Pretty Figure--Pretty Women--Palais Gallien--Black Prince's Son, Edward.

The Garonne--The Lord of Langoyran--Miracle of the Mule--Castle of the Four Sons of Aymon--The Aged Lover--Gavaches--The Franchimans--Count Raymond--Flying Bridges--The Miller of Barbaste--The Troubadour Count--The Count de la Marche--The Rochellaises--Eug?nie and her Song.

Agen--La Belle Esther--St. Caprais--The Little Cherubs--Zo? at the Fountain--The Hill--Le Gravier--Jasmin, the Poet-Barber--The Metaphor--Las Papillotas--Fran?onnette--Jasmin's Lines on the Old Language--The Shepherd and the Gascon Poet--Return to Agen--Jasmin and the King of France--Jasmin and the Queen of England.

WITHIN ten leagues of the interesting town of Caen, where William of Normandy and his queen lie buried, the traveller, who devotes a short space of time to a search after the picturesque, may, without straying too far a-field, find what he desires in the clean, bright, gay town of Falaise, where the hero of the Conquest was born.

From Southampton to Havre it requires only twelve hours to cross, and, as was the case with myself and my companions, when, at the end of August 1842, we began a journey, whose end was "to be" the mountains which divide France from Spain, if the city of parrots is already familiar to the tourist, he has only to take the steam-packet, which in four hours will land him at Caen, or enter the boat which crosses the fine bold river to Honfleur. In an hour you arrive at Honfleur, after a very pleasant voyage, which the inhabitants of Havre are extremely fond of taking: a diligence starts from the quay, and proceeds through an avenue of a league's length between beautiful hills, orchards, and corn-fields, to the strange old town of Lisieux, to which we proceeded.

As it was raining violently on our arrival at Lisieux, the town presented to us but an uncomfortable appearance; and as we had to search for an hotel, and were at last obliged to be content with one far from inviting, our first impression was by no means agreeable; nor does Lisieux offer anything to warrant a change in the traveller's opinion who considers it dreary, slovenly, and ruinous. There is much, however, to admire in the once beautiful cathedral, and the church of St. Jacques, both grand specimens of the massive architecture of the twelfth century.

The drive from Lisieux to Falaise is charming; and, although the appearance of the hotels is not in their favour, there is nothing to complain of in regard to cleanliness or attention: at least so we found it at La Croix Blanche, where the singular beauty of our hostess added to the romance of our position, perched, as we were, on a balcony without awning, in a building which had evidently been part of an old tower. It is true that we should have preferred something rather less exposed when we found ourselves confined for a whole day, in consequence of the pouring rain, and found that a stream of water had made its way from our balcony into each of our rooms; whose bricked floors were little improved by their visit. Our suggestion of covering the way, in order that, in wet weather, both the dinner and its bearers might be sheltered, appeared to excite surprise, though our attendants came in constantly with their high caps wet through and their aprons soaked.

The town is clean and neat; most of the ruinous, striped houses, with projecting stories, such as deform the streets of Lisieux, being cleared away; leaving wide spaces and pure air, at least in the centre-town, where the best habitations are situated. There are other divisions, less airy and more picturesque, called the fauxbourgs of Guibray and St. Laurent, and le Val d'Ante; where many antique houses are still standing, fit to engage the pencil of the antiquarian artist.

There are many columns and capitals, and arches and ornaments of interest in the church of St. Gervais, defaced and altered as it is; but it is impossible to give all the attention they deserve to these buildings, when the towers of the splendid old castle are wooing you to delay no longer, but mount at once the steep ascent which leads to its walls.

Rising suddenly from the banks of a brawling crystal stream, a huge mass of grey rocks, thrown in wild confusion one on the other, sustains on its summit the imposing remains of the castle, whose high white tower, alone and in perfect preservation, commands an immense tract of smiling country, and seems to have defied the attacks of ages, as it gleams in the sun, the smooth surface of its walls apparently uninjured and unstained. This mighty donjon is planted in a lower part of the height; consequently, high as it appears, scarcely half of its real elevation is visible. Its walls are of prodigious thickness, and seem to have proved their power through centuries of attack and defence to which it has been exposed; careless alike of the violence of man and the fury of the elements. Adjoining the keep are ranges of ruined walls, pierced with fine windows, whose circular arches, still quite entire, show their early Norman construction. Close to the last of these, whose pillars, with wreathed capitals, are as sharp as if just restored, is a low door, leading to a small chamber in the thickness of the wall. There is a little recess in one corner, and a narrow window, through whose minute opening a fine prospect may be seen.

This small chamber, tradition says, was once adorned with "azure and vermilion;" though it could scarcely have ever presented a very gay appearance, even when used as the private retreat of the luxurious master of the castle. However, such as it is, we are bound to look upon this spot with veneration; for it is asserted, that here a child was born in secrecy and mystery, and that here, by this imperfect light, his beautiful mother gazed upon the features of the future hero of Normandy.

However unlike a bower fitted for beauty and love, it is said that here Arlette, the skinner's daughter, was confined of William the Conqueror. It is said, too, that from this height, the sharp-sighted Duke his father, gazing from his towers, first beheld the lovely peasant girl bathing in the fountain which still bears her name. In this retreat, concealed from prying eyes, and where inquisitive ears found it difficult to catch a sound, the shrill cry of the wondrous infant was first uttered,--a sound often to be repeated by every echo of the land, when changed to the war note which led to victory.

Arlette returns no more to her father's cottage. She remains in a turret of the castle, but not as a handmaiden of the duchess; her existence is not supposed to be known, though the childless wife of Duke Robert weeps in secret, over her wrongs.

All this is pure fancy, and may have no foundation in reality.

"Look here upon this picture and on that."

Another version of the story of Arlette is given by an ancient chronicler, which is certainly a sufficient contrast to the view I ventured to take of the affair, probably with but little correctness, considering the manners of the period.

The messengers, awed by her dignity, hesitated not to obey her, and she was presently conducted into the presence of Duke Robert, who awaited her coming in a vaulted chamber, adorned with gilding, where "fine images were represented in enamel and colours." There he received her with great joy and honour, and from that time she possessed all his love.

PRINCE ARTHUR--WANT OF GALLANTRY PUNISHED--THE RECREANT SOW--THE ROCKS OF NORON--LA GRANDE EPERONNI?RE--LE CAMP-FERME--ANTIQUITIES OF FALAISE--ALEN?ON--NORMAN CAPS--GEESE--LE MANS--TOMB OF B?RANG?RE--CATHEDRAL--ANCIENT REMAINS--STREETS--THE VEILED FIGURE.

CLOSE to the natal chamber of Duke William may be seen another recess in the thick walls, still smaller and more dismal, to which a ruined window now gives more light than in the days when poor young Arthur of Brittany looked sadly through its loop-holes over a wide extent of country, now all cultivation and beauty, but probably then bristling with forts and towers, all in the hands of his hard-hearted uncle John. After having made his nephew prisoner in Anjou, John sent him to Falaise, and had him placed in this dungeon in the custody of some severe but not cruel knights, who treated him with all the respect they dared to show. An order from their treacherous master soon arrived, directing that he should be put to death; but they refused obedience, and indignantly exclaimed, that the walls of the castle of Falaise should not be sullied by such a crime. Arthur was therefore removed to Rouen, and there less conscientious men were found to execute the tyrant's will, if tradition, so varied on the point, speak true.

What effect this wise judgment had is not related; probably it produced as salutary a result as most of those exhibitions designed for the amusement or instruction of an enlightened multitude.

The chain of the rocks of Noron, on part of which the castle is situated, is singularly picturesque; and from those opposite, rising from the side of Arlette's fountain, the fine ruins have a most majestic effect; and the prospect for leagues round is extremely beautiful. A soft turf, covered with wild thyme, heath, and fern, makes the meandering walks amongst the huge blocks of moss-mantled stone, tempting and delightful, in spite of their steepness; and the delicious perfume of the fragrant herbs, growing in great luxuriance everywhere, is refreshing in the extreme. The snowy tower of strength, rising from its bed of piled up rock--the broad high walls, and their firm buttresses and circular windows, through which the blue sky gleams--the nodding foliage and garlands of ivy which adorn the huge towers--and, far beyond, a rich and glowing country, altogether present a scene of beauty, difficult to be equalled in any part of Normandy, rich as that charming province is in animated landscape.

A house is shown in one of the streets, called the House of the Conqueror, and a rudely sculptured bust is exhibited there, dignified with his name. Some few tottering antique houses still contrive to keep together in the oldest parts of the town, but none are by any means worthy of note; one is singular, being covered with a sort of coat of mail formed of little scales of wood lapping one over the other, and preserving the remains of some carved pillars, apparently once of great delicacy. One pretty tower is still to be seen at the corner of the Rue du Camp-ferme, which seems to have formed part of a very elegant building, to judge by its lightness and grace; it has sunk considerably in the earth, but from its height a fine prospect may be obtained. There is a public library at Falaise, that great resource of all French towns, and several fine buildings dedicated to general utility; but the boys of the college the most excite the envy of the stranger, for their abode is on the broad ramparts, and their playground and promenades are along the beautiful walks formed on the ancient defences of the castle.

Our way to Alen?on, where we proposed to stop a day, lay through Argentan on the Orne, a pretty town on a height commanding a fine view of plain and forest; the country is little remarkable the whole way, but cultivated and pretty. At Seez the fine, delicate, elevated spires of the Cathedral mark the situation of the town long before and after it is reached; but, besides that, it possesses no attractions sufficient to detain the traveller.

Alen?on, the capital of the department of Orne, is a clean, open, well-built town, situated in a plain with woods in all directions, which entirely bound its prospects. The public promenades are remarkably fine, laid out with taste, and a great resource to the inhabitants, who consider them equal to those of Paris, comparing them to the gardens of the Luxembourg. The cathedral, once fine, is dreadfully defaced, and the boasted altars and adornments of the chapels are in the usual bad taste so remarkable at the present day.

A few fine round towers remain of the ancient ch?teau, now a prison, which is the only vestige of antiquity remaining. There was an exhibition of works of industry and art going on, which we went to see, and were much struck with the extreme beauty of some specimens of the lace called Point d'Alen?on. The patterns and delicate execution of this manufacture are exquisite, equalling ancient point lace and Brussels. Some very fine stuffs in wool, transparent as gossamer and of the softest colours, attracted us, but the severity of an official prevented our examining them as closely as we wished, and as there was no indication of the place where they could be beheld at liberty, we were obliged to content ourselves with the supposition that they were the produce of the workshops of Alen?on. As the large gallery in which the exhibition took place was principally filled with peasants in blouses and women with children, perhaps the vigilance of the attendants might not be useless; but whether their proceeding was judicious in refusing information to strangers or persons who might be able to purchase goods which pleased them, is questionable.

Through alleys of crimson-apple trees our road continued, and we were forcibly, and not very agreeably reminded, at almost every step, that there is a large trade carried on in this part of the country in goose down, for flocks of these unfortunate animals were scattered along the road, their breasts entirely despoiled of their downy beauties, offering a frightful spectacle; the immense numbers exceed belief, and all appear of a fine species. At every cabaret we passed, notices were stuck up informing those whom it might concern, that accommodation for four or five hundred oxen was to be had within; but we met no private carriages, nor, even in the neighbourhood of large towns, horsemen or pedestrians above the rank of peasants. This is a circumstance so universal in every part of France, that it becomes a mystery where the other classes of society conceal themselves--on the promenades, in the streets and shops, to see a well-dressed person is a prodigy, and the wonder is to whom the goods are sold, which are certainly sparingly enough exhibited.

We had looked forward to much pleasure in a visit to the ancient town of Le Mans, and its treasure, the tomb of B?rang?re, for the discovery of which, although a benefit unacknowledged, France and the curious are indebted to the zeal and perseverance of the late lamented Stothard, who sought for and found one of the most beautiful statues of the time under a heap of corn in an old church formerly belonging to the convent of Epau, but converted into a granary in 1820, when, by his entreaties and resolution, the lost beauty was restored to daylight and honour. Not a word of all this is, however, named by any French chronicler, although B?rang?re is now the heroine and the boast of Le Mans, the object of interest to travellers, the gem of the cathedral, and the pride of Le Maine.

Seated in an angle of the exterior walls of the cathedral, on a rude stone, is a reddish looking block, which has all the appearance of a veiled priest, covered with a large mantle, which conceals his hands and face. The height of the figure is about eight feet as it sits; the feet, huge unformed masses, covered with what seems drapery, are supported on a square pedestal, which is again sustained by one larger, which projects from the angle of the building. The veil, the ample mantle, and two under-garments, all flowing in graceful folds, and defining the shape, may be clearly distinguished. No features are visible, nor are the limbs actually apparent, except through the uninterrupted waving lines of the drapery, or what may be called so. A part of the side of what seems the head has been sliced off, otherwise the block is entire. It would scarcely appear to have been sculptured, but has the effect of one of those sports of Nature in which she delights to offer representations of forms which the fancy can shape into symmetry.

There is something singularly Egyptian about the form of this swathed figure, or it is like those Indian idols, whose contours are scarcely defined to the eye; it is so wrapped up in mystery, and is so surrounded with oblivion, that the mind is lost in amazement in contemplating it. Did it belong to a worship long since swept away?--was it a god of the Gauls, or a veiled Jupiter?--how came it squeezed in between two walls of the great church, close to the ground, yet supported by steps?--why was it not removed on the introduction of a purer worship?--how came it to escape destruction when saints and angels fell around?--who placed it there, and for what purpose?--will no zealous antiquarian, on his way from a visit to the wondrous circle of Carnac and the gigantic Dolmens of Saumur, pause at Le Mans, at this obscure corner of the cathedral, opposite the huge Pans de Gorron, and tell the world the meaning of this figure with the stone veil?

Imagination may easily, here in the country, where the sage bard, the great Merlin, or Myrdhyn, lived, induce the belief that this mysterious stone represents the Druid lover of the fatal Viviana;--may this not be the very stone brought from Brociliande, within, or under, which he is in durance; or rather is not this himself transformed to stone? Thus runs the tradition:--

THE DRUID LOVER.

"Myrdhyn the Druid still sleeps under a stone in a forest in Brittany; his Viviana is the cause; she wished to prove his power, and asked the sage the fatal word which could enchain him; he, who knew all things, was aware of the consequences, yet he could not resist her entreaties; he told her the spell, and, to gratify her, condemned himself to eternal oblivion."

I know to tell the fatal word Is sorrow evermore-- I know that I that boon accord Whole ages will deplore. Though I be more than mortal wise, And all is clear to gifted eyes; And endless pain and worlds of woe May from my heedless passion flow, Yet thou hast power all else above,-- Sense, reason, wisdom, yield to love.

I look upon thine eyes of light, And feel that all besides is night; I press that snowy hand in mine, And but contemn my art divine. Oh Viviana! I am lost; A life's renown thy smile hath cost. A stone no ages can remove Will be my monument of love; A nation's wail shall mourn my fate, My country will be desolate:

Heav'n has no pardon left for me, Condemn'd--undone--destroy'd--by thee! Thy tears subdue my soul, thy sighs Efface all other memories. I have no being but in thee; My thirst for knowledge is forgot, And life immortal would but be A load of care, where thou wert not.

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