Part 3 (1/2)
”When the rock eagle wakes, And the towers of Hunaudaye Gleam like three phantom forms In the morning's sunlight ray; When night her darksome wing Folds round this desert waste, Shun all this cursed ground- Traveller flee thou in haste.
”There once-Great Heaven s.h.i.+eld Us all! and no ill arise- There once-Hus.h.!.+ leave me not; Hear you, from the ground, low sighs?- There once-wrapped in the gloom Of a dark and rainy night, A man of haughty mien Knocked at the door of might.
”'Open!' cried he,-it turns On groaning hinge. The rain Pours, but the frightened guards Mark neither spot nor stain On his purple cloak-nor his plumes Droop wet, yet the torrents fall Wildly and fast to night, Beating the castle wall.
”The baron, stern and sad, Was in his tower alone, Pacing, with mailed heel, Upon the echoing stone: Cried he-'What stranger seeks, This hour, my castle drear?
Ho! Oliver, Ho! Ralph, See who intrudeth here.'
”'Heaven s.h.i.+eld thee, baron brave!
A strange knight in the hall Craves audience.' 'Lead him here: Stay thou and Ralph in call, At need.' Silent and slow The purple-mantled knight, Advancing, paused-his looks Gleaming unearthly bright.
”'Who art thou coming thus, Loud clamouring at my gate, Thou truly puissant knight, With not one squire for state?
Knowst thou at word of mine-'
The stranger knight smiled stern, Replied in awful voice, 'Would'st thou my name? now learn: Here is my train-behold!'
He cried. There hideous stood One spectre, then two more- A sight to chill the blood- Unveiled their features pale, All three in cere-cloth dressed, Opening all wide to point Where blood flowed from the breast.
”'Baron, these are my guard,'
Said the unknown-'Here, lo!
Thy father's aged form, By poignard stroke laid low; Here thy wife, cruelly slain In the year thy brother fell; They stand, pale, bleeding, stiff,- Their murderer, can'st thou tell?'
”The phantoms three enlaced The trembling baron round; He vainly shrieked,-the walls With demon laughs resound; The echoing thunders rolled Along the valley deep; Lightnings, when pale dawn broke, Blasted the castle keep.
”It stands a blackened pile; The ruined gate is there.
But the sky lowers dark, Oh! traveller flee, beware; At this hour the shades of night Brood o'er the solemn gloom.
Traveller, haste, oh! haste; Leave this abode of doom.”
It was in the forest of La Hunaudaye that the Chouans of the Cotes du Nord were secretly exercised and drilled by their chief, La Rouerie, under the name of Gosselin, who died of horror on hearing of the execution of thirteen of his confederates betrayed by the physician Chaftal. Gosselin was succeeded by the ”Cid” of the Chouan chiefs, Boishardy, called the ”Sorcier,” who, after his interview with General Humbert, was betrayed and shot by the ”Bleus.” For twelve years was Brittany cut off from France by this Chouan war, an insurrection even more formidable than that of La Vendee. The peninsular position of Brittany, its vast extent of coasts, its forests, its mountains, its people, speaking a strange language, entirely under the subjection of the priests, rendered it peculiarly adapted to carry on a war against the republicans; a war, the whole object of which was to upset all order, by preventing the citizens from accepting office under the republic, by punis.h.i.+ng those who acquired national property, by stopping couriers and all public conveyances, destroying bridges, breaking up roads, a.s.sa.s.sinating public officers, and executing horrible punishments on those who sent provisions into the towns.
The castle of La Hunaudaye was destroyed by order of the Commune of Lamballe, in 1793, that it might not serve as a retreat for the Chouans.
We arrived very wet at Lamballe, a town most picturesquely situated on the declivity of a granite cliff, surmounted by a handsome church, rising from the very edge of the rocks. It formed part of the territory of the Duke of Penthievre, whose heiress, Jeanne la Boiteuse, married Charles of Blois, the compet.i.tor with John de Montfort(7) for the dukedom of Brittany. More tenacious of her rights than her husband, Jeanne would never listen to any compromise. After the treaty of Bretigny, the kings of England and France proposed a division of the duchy between the two rivals; but, intimidated by his wife, Charles dared not consent; and again, before the battle of Auray, when a division was agreed upon, subject to the acceptance of the Countess, Jeanne exclaimed, ”My husband makes too cheap a bargain of what is not his own.” And she wrote to Charles, ”Do what you please. I am a woman, and cannot do more; but I had rather lose my life, or two if I had them, before I would consent to so reproachable an act, to the shame of my family” (_des miens_). Later she said to him, ”Preserve me your heart, but preserve me also my duchy, and, happen what may, act so that the sovereignty remains to me entire.” Her pride and obstinacy cost her husband his life. The name of Lamballe is a.s.sociated with the memory of the unfortunate Princesse de Savoie de Carignan, the sad victim of revolutionary fury. On the death of her husband, the Prince de Lamballe, the vast estates of the Penthievre family pa.s.sed to his sister, the wife of Philippe Egalite, and from her descended to Louis Philippe, King of the French.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 17. Section of Lanleff Church.]
Next day we made an excursion to the famed Temple of Lanleff, in Breton, the ”land of tears,” situated in a retired valley about six miles from the sea. According to the tradition of the country, it was built by ”Les moines rouges,” as they style the Templar Knights. The road was incessantly up and down hill, as we afterwards found they are throughout Brittany; a ”pays accidente” it may be truly called. The chapel of Lanleff is composed of two concentric circular enclosures separated by twelve round arches, with cus.h.i.+on-shaped capitals, having heads, human and animal, rudely sculptured upon them at the four angles. Its whole diameter is about twenty-two feet. It was probably built by some Templar Knight in the beginning of the twelfth century on his return from the Holy Land. The number of arches may allude to that of the twelve Apostles.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 18. Plan of Lanleff Church.]
The parish church was built into the east side of the temple, the only part which has preserved its roof, and which served as a vestibule to the more modern building. A gigantic yew formerly grew in the central enclosure, and overshadowed it with its spreading branches; but the parish church has been taken down and rebuilt in another part of the village, and the yew-tree has disappeared.
Close to the temple is a spring enclosed by flagstones. When moistened, they appear covered with blood-stained spots. According to the tradition, in olden times an unnatural father sold his child to the Evil One. The gold received for the bargain was counted out upon the side of the spring, and the accursed money left its print upon the stones. A bare-legged peasant who stood by with her pitcher, threw some water over the stones, and immediately there appeared round red spots of different sizes-indelible marks of the diabolical bargain. We went into a cottage close by, and had some boiled eggs and cider. The inmates were at their meal-a bowl of milk, into which they broke their buckwheat ”galette.” We were much struck with the jealous pertinacity of the Breton, to show he considers himself as of a different people and country to the rest of France, a feeling which more than three hundred years has not dissipated.
Our driver would talk of Bretons and French as of distinct nations, and the Normans in this part of Brittany are the special objects of hatred, originating, perhaps, in the former subjection of Brittany to Normandy.
When Charles the Simple ceded to the fierce Northmen the province now known by their name, their sovereignty extended over Brittany, and the dukes of Normandy did homage for both provinces to the King of France. The Bretons struggled hard against the supremacy of the Barbarians, but eventually had to acknowledge the Duke of Normandy as their sovereign lord.
St. Brieuc, princ.i.p.al town of the department of the Cotes-du-Nord, has been described as an old town with a new face. Though one of the oldest in Brittany, it has little of antiquity to detain the traveller. The Palais de Justice is a handsome building, in the midst of a pretty garden, commanding a view of the Tour de Cesson, lower down the river (the Gouet), a large circular tower built by Duke John IV., and blown up by Henry IV., at the desire of the Briochins, as the inhabitants of St. Brieuc style themselves. The mine split it in two, and the part that remains serves as a landmark for the pilots between St. Brieuc and its port, about two miles distant, called Legue. Notre Dame d'Esperance is a pretty church, rebuilt about ten years since, with a calvary in front, and a series of painted windows representing the princ.i.p.al saints of Brittany, and the most celebrated pilgrimages of the Virgin in that province. At St. Brieuc, 1689, James II. of England reviewed his little army, and was received with royal honours by the bishop of the place.
We proceeded by the railway to Guingamp, next to St. Brieuc, the princ.i.p.al town of the department, capital of the duchy of Penthievre. It is situated in the richly wooded and cultivated valley of the Trieux, a favourite fis.h.i.+ng river of considerable size, and affording trout, salmon, and dace, from Guingamp to Paimpol, where it falls into the sea, a distance of twenty miles. It runs through the centre of the town, and is here a considerable stream.