_Bayeux, May 16_, 1818.
Two of the most gratifying days of my Tour have been spent at this place.
The Cathedral (one of the most ancient religious places of worship in Normandy)[135] has been paced with a reverential step, and surveyed with a careful eye. That which scarcely warmed the blood of Ducarel has made my heart beat with an increased action; and although this town be even dreary, as well as thinly peopled, there is that about it which, from a.s.sociations of ideas, can never fail to afford a lively interest to a British antiquary.
The Diligence brought me here from Caen in about two hours and a half. The country, during the whole route, is open, well cultivated, occasionally gently undulating, but generally denuded of trees. Many pretty little churches, with delicate spires, peeped out to the right and left during the journey; but the first view of the CATHEDRAL of BAYEUX put all the others out of my recollection. I was conveyed to the _Hotel de Luxembourg_, the best inn in the town, and for a wonder rather pleasantly situated. Mine hostess is a smart, lively, and shrewd woman; perfectly mistress of the art and craft of innkeeping, and seems to have never known sorrow or disappointment. Knowing that Mr. Stothard, Jun. had, the preceding year, been occupied in making a fac-simile of the "famous tapestry" for our Society of Antiquaries, I enquired if mine hostess had been acquainted with that gentleman: "Monsieur," "je le connois bien; c"est un brave homme: il demeura tout pres: aussi travailla-t-il comme quatre diables!" I will not disguise that this eulogy of our amiable countryman[136] pleased me "right well"--though I was pretty sure that such language was the current (and to me somewhat _coa.r.s.e_) coin of compliment upon all occasions: and instead of "vin ordinaire" I ordered, rather in a gay and triumphant manner, "une bouteille du vin de Beaune"--"Ah! ca," (replied the lively landlady,) "vous le trouverez excellent, Monsieur, il n"y a pas du vin comme le vin de Beaune." Bespeaking my dinner, I strolled towards the cathedral.
There is, in fact, no proper approach to this interesting edifice. The western end is suffocated with houses. Here stands the post-office; and with the most unsuspecting frankness, on the part of the owner, I had permission to examine, with my own hands, within doors, every letter--under the expectation that there were some for myself. Nor was I disappointed.
But you must come with me to the cathedral: and of course we must enter together at the western front. There are five porticos: the central one being rather large, and the two, on either side, comparatively small.
Formerly, these were covered with sculptured figures and ornaments; but the Calvinists in the sixteenth, and the Revolutionists in the eighteenth century, have contrived to render their present aspect mutilated and repulsive in the extreme. On entering, I was struck with the two large transverse Norman arches which bestride the area, or square, for the bases of the two towers. It is the boldest and finest piece of masonry in the whole building. The interior disappointed me. It is plain, solid, and divested of ornament. A very large wooden crucifix is placed over the screen of the choir, which has an effect--of its kind: but the monuments, and mural ornaments, scarcely deserve mention. The richly ornamented arches, on each side of the nave, springing from ma.s.sive single pillars, have rather an imposing effect: above them are Gothic ornaments of a later period, but too thickly and injudiciously applied. Let me now suppose that the dinner is over, and the "vin de Beaune" approved of--and that on a second visit, immediately afterwards, there is both time and inclination for a leisurely survey. On looking up, upon entering, within the side aisle to the left, you observe, with infinite regret, a dark and filthy green tint indicative of premature decay--arising from the lead (of that part of the roof,) having been stript for the purpose of making bullets during the Revolution. The extreme length of the interior is about 320 English feet, by 76 high, and the same number of feet in width. The transepts are about 125 feet long, by 36 wide. The western towers, to the very top of the spires, are about 250 English feet in height.
One of the most curious objects in the Cathedral, is the CRYPT; of which, singularly enough, all knowledge had been long lost till the year 1412. The circ.u.mstance of its discovery is told in the following inscription, cut in the Gothic letter, upon a bra.s.s plate, and placed just above the southern entrance:
_En lan mil quatre cens et douze Tiers iour d"Auril que pluye arrouse Les biens de la terre, la journee Que la Pasques fut celebree n.o.ble homme et Reverend Pere Jehan de Boissey, de"la Mere Eglise de Bayeux Pasteur Rendi l"ame a son Createur Et lors enfoissant la place Devant la grand Autel de grace Trova l"on la ba.s.se Chapelle Dont il n"avoit ete nouvelle Ou il est mis en sepulture Dieu ueuille avoir son ame en cure. Amen_.
It was my good fortune to visit this crypt at a very particular juncture.
The day after my arrival at Bayeux, there was a grand _Ordination_. Before I had quitted my bed, I heard the mellow and measured notes of human voices; and starting up, I saw an almost interminable procession of priests, deacons, &c., walking singly behind each other, in two lines, leaving a considerable s.p.a.ce between them. They walked bareheaded, chanting, with a book in their hands; and bent their course towards the cathedral. I dressed quickly; and, dispatching my breakfast with equal prompt.i.tude, pursued the same route. On entering the western doors, thrown wide open, I shall never forget the effect produced by the crimson and blue draperies of the Norman women:--a great number of whom were cl.u.s.tered, in groups, upon the top of the screen, about the huge wooden crucifix;--witnessing the office of ordination going on below, in the choir. They seemed to be suspended in the air; and considering the piece of sculpture around which they appeared to gather themselves--with the elevation of the screen itself--it was a combination of objects upon which the pencil might have been exercised with the happiest possible result. An ordination in a foreign country, and especially one upon such an apparently extensive scale, was, to a professional man, not to be slighted; and accordingly I determined upon making the most of the spectacle before me.
Looking accidentally down my favourite crypt, I observed that some religious ceremony was going on there. The northern grate, or entrance, being open, I descended a flight of steps, and quickly became an inmate of this subterraneous abode. The first object that struck me was, the warm glow of day light which darted upon the broad pink cross of the surplice of an officiating priest: a candle was burning upon the altar, on each side of him: another priest, in a black vesture, officiated as an a.s.sistant; and each, in turn, knelt, and bowed, and prayed ... to the admiration of some few half dozen casual yet attentive visitors--while the full sonorous chant, from the voices of upwards of one hundred and fifty priests and deacons, from the choir above, gave a peculiar sort of solemnity to the mysterious gloom below.
I now ascended; and by the help of a chair, took a peep at the ceremony through the intercolumniations of the choir: my diffidence, or rather apprehension of refusal, having withheld me from striving to gain admittance within the body. But my situation was a singularly good one: opposite the altar. I looked, and beheld this vast clerical congregation at times kneeling, or standing, or sitting: partially, or wholly: while the swell of their voices, accompanied by the full intonations of the organ, and the yet more penetrating notes of the _serpent_, seemed to breathe more than earthly solemnity around. The ceremony had now continued full two hours; when, in the midst of the most impressive part of it, and while the young candidates for ordination were prostrate before the high altar (the diapason stop of the organ, as at Dieppe,[137] sending forth the softest notes) the venerable Bishop placed the glittering mitre (apparently covered with gold gauze) upon his head, and with a large gilt crosier in his right hand, descended, with a measured and majestic step, from the floor of the altar, and proceeded to the execution of the more mysterious part of his office. The candidates, with closed eyes, and outstretched hands, were touched with the holy oil--and thus became consecrated. On rising, each received a small piece of bread between the thumb and forefinger, and the middle and third fingers; their hands being pressed together--and, still with closed eyes, they retired behind the high altar, where an officiating priest made use of the bread to rub off the holy oil. The Bishop is an elderly man, about three score and ten; he has the usual sallow tint of his countrymen, but his eye, somewhat sunk or retired, beneath black and overhanging eyebrows, is sharp and expressive. His whole mien has the indication of a well-bred and well-educated gentleman. When he descended with his full robes, crosier, and mitre, from the high altar, me-thought I saw some of the venerable forms of our WYKEHAMS and WAYNEFLETES of old--commanding the respect, and receiving the homage, of a grateful congregation! At the very moment my mind was deeply occupied by the effects produced from this magnificent spectacle, I strolled into _Our Lady"s Chapel_, behind the choir, and beheld a sight which converted seriousness into surprise--bordering upon mirth. Above the altar of this remotely situated chapel, stands the IMAGE OF THE VIRGIN with the infant Jesus in her arms. This is the usual chief ornament of Our Lady"s Chapel. But what drapery for the mother of the sacred child!--stiff, starch, rectangularly-folded, white muslin, stuck about with diverse artificial flowers--like unto a shew figure in Brook Green Fair! This ridiculous and most disgusting costume began more particularly at Caudebec. Why is it persevered in? Why is it endured? The French have a quick sensibility, and a lively apprehension of what is beautiful and brilliant in the arts of sculpture and painting ... but the terms "joli," "gentil," and "propre,"
are made use of, like charity, to "cover a mult.i.tude of sins" ... or aberrations from true taste. I scarcely stopped a minute in this chapel, but proceeded to a side one, to the right, which yet affords proof of its pristine splendour. It is covered with gold and colours. Two or three supplicants were kneeling before the crucifix, and appeared to be so absorbed in their devotions as to be insensible of every surrounding object. To them, the particular saint (I have forgotten the name) to whom the little chapel was dedicated, seemed to be dearer and more interesting than the general voice of "praise and thanksgiving" with which the choir of the cathedral resounded. Before we quit the place you must know that fourscore candidates were ordained: that there are sixty clergy attached to the cathedral;[138] and that upwards of four hundred thousand souls are under the spiritual cognizance of the BISHOP OF BAYEUX. The treasures of the Cathedral were once excessive,[139] and the episcopal stipend proportionably large: but, of late years, things are sadly changed. The Calvinists, in the sixteenth century, began the work of havoc and destruction; and the Revolutionists in the eighteenth, as usual, put the finish to these devastations. At present, from a very respectable source of information, I learn that the revenues of the Bishop scarcely exceed 700_l_. per annum of our own money. I cannot take leave of the cathedral without commending, in strong terms of admiration, the lofty flying b.u.t.tresses of the exterior of the nave. The perpendicular portions are crowned with a sculptured whole length figure, from which the semi-arch takes its spring; and are in much more elegant taste than any other part of the building.
Hard by the cathedral stood formerly a magnificent EPISCOPAL PALACE. Upon this palace the old writers dearly loved to expatiate. There is now however nothing but a good large comfortable family mansion; sufficient for the purposes of such hospitality and entertainment as the episcopal revenues will afford. I have not only seen, but visited, this episcopal residence.
In other words, my friend Pierre-Aime Lair having promised to take his last adieu of me at Bayeux, as he had business with the Bishop, I met him agreeably to appointment at the palace; but his host, with a strong corps of visitors, having just sate down to dinner--it was only one o"clock--I bade him adieu, with the hope of seeing the Bishop on the morrow--to whom he had indeed mentioned my name. Our farewell was undoubtedly warm and sincere. He had volunteered a thousand acts of kindness towards me without any possible motive of self interest; and as he lifted up his right hand, exclaiming "adieu, pour toujours!" I will not dissemble that I was sensibly affected by the touching manner in which it was uttered ... and PIERRE AIMe LAIR shall always claim from me the warmest wishes for his prosperity and happiness.[140] I hurried back through the court-yard--at the risk of losing a limb from the ferocious spring of a tremendous (chained) mastiff--and without returning the salute of the porter, shut the gate violently, and departed. For five minutes, pacing the south side of the cathedral, I was lost in a variety of painful sensations. How was I to see the LIBRARY?--where could I obtain a glimpse of the TAPESTRY?--and now, that Pierre Aime Lair was to be no more seen, (for he told me he should quit the place on that same evening) who was to stand my friend, and smooth my access to the more curious and coveted objects of antiquity?
Thus absorbed in a variety of contending reflections, a tall figure, clad in a loose long great coat, in a very gracious manner approached and addressed me. "Your name, Sir, is D----?" "At your service, Sir, that is my name." "You were yesterday evening at Monsieur Pluquet"s, purchasing books?" "I was, Sir." "It seems you are very fond of old books, and especially of those in the French and Latin languages?" "I am fond of old books generally; but I now seek more particularly those in your language--and have been delighted with an illuminated, and apparently coeval, MS. of the poetry of your famous OLIVIER Ba.s.sELIN, which..." "You saw it, Sir, at Monsieur Pluquet"s. It belonged to a common friend of us both. He thinks it worth..." "He asks _ten louis d"or_ for it, and he shall have them with all my heart." "Sir, I know he will never part with it even for that large sum." I smiled, as he p.r.o.nounced the word "large." "Do me the honour, Sir, of visiting my obscure dwelling, in the country--a short league from hence. My abode is humble: in the midst of an orchard, which my father planted: but I possess a few books, some of them curious, and should like to _read_ double the number I _possess_." I thanked the stranger for his polite attention and gracious offer, which I accepted readily.... "This evening, Sir, if you please." "With all my heart, this very evening. But tell me, Sir, how can I obtain a sight of the CHAPTER LIBRARY, and of the famous TAPESTRY?" "Speak softly, (resumed the unknown) for I am watched in this place. You shall see both--but must not say that Monsieur ---- was your adviser or friend. For the present, farewell. I shall expect you in the evening." We took leave; and I returned hastily to the inn, to tell my adventures to my companion.
There is something so charmingly mysterious in this little anecdote, that I would not for the world add a syllable of explanation. Leaving you, therefore, in full possession of it, to turn and twist it as you please, consider me as usual, Yours.
[135] [Mons. Licquet supposes the crypt and the arcades of the nave to be of the latter end of the eleventh century,--built by Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, and Brother of William the Conqueror; and that the other portions were of the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries. I have very great doubts indeed of any portion being of a date even so early as 1170.]
[136] [Another demonstration of the fickleness and changeableness of all mundane affairs. Mr. Stothard, after a successful execution of his great task, has ceased to be among us. His widow published his life, with an account of his labours, in a quarto volume in 1823. Mr.
Stothard"s _Monumental Effigies_, now on the eve of completion, is a work which will carry his name down to the latest posterity, as one of the most interesting, tasteful, and accurate of antiquarian productions. See a subsequent note.]
[137] See page 12, ante.
[138] ["That was true, when M. Dibdin wrote his account; now, the number must be reduced one half." LICQUET, vol. ii. p. 121.]
[139] Cette eglise ... etoit sans contredit une des plus riches de France en vases d"or, d"argent, et de pierreries; en reliques et en ornemens. Le proces-verbal qui avoit ete dresse de toutes ses richesses, en 1476, contient un detail qui va presque a l"infini." Bezieres, _Hist.
Sommaire_, p. 51.
[140] [But ONE letter has pa.s.sed between us since this separation. That letter, however, only served to cement the friendliness of our feelings towards each other. M. Pierre Aime Lair had heard of the manner in which his name had been introduced into these pages, and wished a copy of the work to be deposited in the public library at Caen. Whether it be so deposited, I have never learnt. In 1827, this amiable man visited England; and I saw him only during the time of an ordinary morning visit. His stay was necessarily short, and his residence was remote. I returned his visit--but he was away. There are few things in life more gratifying than the conviction of living in the grateful remembrance of the wise and the good; and THAT gratification it is doubtless my happiness to enjoy--as far as relates to Mons. PIERRE AIMe LAIR!]
LETTER XV.
VISIT NEAR ST. LOUP. M. PLUQUET, APOTHECARY AND BOOK-VENDER. VISIT TO THE BISHOP. THE CHAPTER LIBRARY. DESCRIPTION OF THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY. TRADE AND MANUFACTURE.
Well, my good friend! the stranger has been visited: his library inspected: his services accepted: and his character partly unfolded. To this I must add, in the joy of my heart, (as indeed I mentioned slightly in my last) that both the Chapter LIBRARY and the famous TAPESTRY have been explored and examined in a manner, I trust, worthy of British curiosity. I hardly know what sort of order to adopt in this my second and last epistle from Bayeux; which will be semi-bibliomaniacal and semi-archaeological: and sit down, almost at random, to impart such intelligence as my journal and my memory supply.
The last was almost a purely _ecclesiastical_ dispatch: as I generally first take off my cap to the towers and turrets of a cathedral. Now then for THE STRANGER! ... for it would be cruel to prolong the agony of expectation. Mr. Lewis having occupied himself, almost exclusively, with his pencil during the whole morning, I persuaded him to accompany me to _St. Loup_. After dinner we set out upon our expedition. It had rained in the interim, and every tree was charged with moisture as we pa.s.sed them ...
their blossoms exhaling sweets of the most pungent fragrance. The road ran in a straight line from the west front of the cathedral, which, on turning round, as we saw it irradiated by partial glimpses of sunshine, between ma.s.ses of dark clouds, a.s.sumed a very imposing and venerable aspect. I should tell you, however, that the obliging Monsieur ---- came himself to the Hotel de Luxembourg, to conduct us to his humble abode: for "humble" it is in every sense of the word. About two-thirds of the way thither, we pa.s.sed the little church of _St. Loup_: a perfect Gothic toy of the XIIth century--with the prettiest, best-proportioned tower that can be imagined.[141] It has a few slight cl.u.s.tered columns at the four angles, but its height and breadth are truly pigmy. The stone is of a whitish grey.
We did not enter; and with difficulty could trace our way to examine the exterior through the high gra.s.s of the church yard, yet _laid_ with the heavy rain. What a gem would the pencil of BLORE make of this tiny, ancient, interesting edifice! At length we struck off, down a lane slippery with moisture--when, opening a large swinging gate--"here (exclaimed our guide)--lived and died my father, and here his son hopes to live and die also. Gentlemen, yonder is my hermitage." It was a retirement of the most secluded kind: absolutely surrounded by trees, shrubs, hay-stacks, and corn-stacks--for Monsieur ---- hath a fancy for farming as well as for reading. The stair-case, though constructed of good hard Norman stone, was much worn in the middle from the frequent tread of half a century. It was also fatiguingly steep, but luckily it was short. We followed our guide to the left, where, pa.s.sing through one boudoir-like apartment, strewn with books and papers, and hung with a parcel of mean ornaments called _pictures_, we entered a second--of which portions of the wainscoat were taken away, to shew the books which were deposited behind. Row after row, and pile upon pile, struck my wondering eye. Anon, a closet was opened--and there again they were stowed, "thick and threefold." A few small busts, and fractured vases, were meant to grace a table in the centre of the room. Of the books, it is but justice to say that _rarity_ had been sacrificed to _utility_. There were some excellent, choice, critical works; a good deal of Latin; some Greek, and a sprinkle of Hebrew--for Monsieur ---- is both a general and a sound scholar. On pointing to _Houbigant"s Hebrew Bible_, in four folio volumes, 1753, "do you think this copy dear at fourteen francs?"
said he!--"How, Sir," (replied I, in an exstacy of astonishment)--you mean to say fourteen _louis_?" "Not at all, Sir. I purchased it at the price just mentioned, nor do I think it too dear at that sum"--resumed he, in the most unsuspecting manner. I then told him, as a sort of balsamic consolation, that a late friend (I alluded to poor Mr. Ormerod) rejoiced on giving 12. for a copy by no means superior. "Ah, le bon Dieu!...." was his only observation thereupon.
When about to return to the boudoir, through which we had entered, I observed with mingled surprise and pleasure, the four prettily executed English prints, after the drawings of the present Lady Spencer, called "_New Shoes"--"Nice Supper_" &c. Monsieur ---- was pleased at my stopping to survey them. "Ce sont la, Monsieur (observed he), les dames qui me font toujours compagnie:"--nor can you conceive the very soft and gentlemanly manner, accompanied by a voice subdued even to sadness of tone, with which he made this, and almost every observation. I found, indeed, from the whole tenor of his discourse, that he had a mind in no ordinary a state of cultivation: and on observing that a great portion of his library was THEOLOGICAL, I asked him respecting the general subjects upon which he thought and wrote. He caught hold of my left arm, and stooping (for he is much taller than myself, ... which he easily may be, methinks I hear you add...) "Sir, said he, I am by profession a clergyman ... although now I am designated as an _ex-Cure_. I have lived through the Revolution... and may have partaken of some of its irregularities, rather, I should hope than of its atrocities. In the general hue-and-cry for reform, I thought that our church was capable of very great improvement, and I think so still. The part I took was influenced by conscientious motives, rather than by a blind and vehement love of reform;... but it has never been forgiven or forgotten. The established clergy of the place do not a.s.sociate with me; but I care not a farthing for that--since I have here (pointing to his books) the very best society in the world. It was from the persuasion of the clergy having a constantly-fixed eye upon me, that I told you I was watched ... when walking near the precincts of the cathedral. I had been seeking you during the whole of the office of ordination." In reply to my question about his _archaeological_ researches, he said he was then occupied in writing a disquisition upon the _Bayeux Tapestry_, in which he should prove that the Abbe de la Rue was wrong in considering it as a performance of the XIIth century. "He is your great antiquarian oracle"--observed I. "He has an over-rated reputation"--replied he--"and besides, he is too hypothetical." Monsieur ---- promised to send me a copy of his dissertation, when printed; and then let our friend N---- be judge "in the matter of the Bayeux Tapestry." From the open windows of this hermitage, into which the branches absolutely thrust themselves, I essayed, but in vain, to survey the surrounding country; and concluded a visit of nearly two hours, in a manner the most gratifying imaginable to honest feelings. A melancholy, mysterious air, seemed yet, however, to mark this amiable stranger, which had not been quite cleared up by the account he had given of himself. "Be a.s.sured (said he, at parting) that I will see you again, and that every facility shall be afforded you in the examination of the Bayeux Tapestry. I have an uncle who is an efficient member of the corporation."
On my way homeward from this ramble, I called again upon M. Pluquet, an apothecary by profession, but a book lover and a book vender[142] in his heart. The scene was rather singular. Below, was his _Pharmacopeia_; above were his bed-room and books; with a broken antique or two, in the court-yard, and in the pa.s.sage leading to it. My first visit had been hasty, and only as a whetter to the second. Yet I contrived to see from a visitor, who was present, the desirable MS. of the vulgar poetry of OLIVIER Ba.s.sELIN, of which I made mention to M.----. The same stranger was again present. We all quietly left the drugs below for drugs of a different description above--books being called by the ancients, you know, the "MEDICINE OF THE SOUL." We mounted into the bed-room. M. Pluquet now opened his bibliomaniacal battery upon us. "Gentlemen you see, in this room, all the treasures in the world I possess: my wife--my child--my books--my antiquities. "Yes, gentlemen, these are my treasures. I am enthusiastic, even to madness, in the respective pursuits into which the latter branch out; but my means are slender--and my aversion to my _business_ is just about in proportion to my fondness for _books_. Examine, gentlemen, and try your fortunes."
I scarcely needed such a rhetorical incitement: but alas! the treasures of M. Pluquet were not of a nature quite to make one"s fortune. I contrived, with great difficulty, to pick out something of a _recherche_ kind; and expended a napoleon upon some scarce little grammatical tracts, chiefly Greek, printed by Stephen at Paris, and by Hervagius at Basil: among the latter was the _Bellum grammaticale_ of E. Hessus. M. Pluquet wondered at my rejecting the folios, and sticking so closely to the duodecimos; but had he shewn me a good _Verard Romance_ or a _Eustace Froissart_, he would have found me as alert in running away with the one as the other. I think he is really the most enthusiastic book-lover I have ever seen: certainly as a Bibliopolist. We concluded a very animated conversation on all sides: and upon the whole, this was one of the most variously and satisfactorily spent days of my "voyage bibliographique."
On the morrow, the mysterious and amiable M. ---- was with me betimes. He said he had brought a _basket of books_, from his hermitage, which he had left at a friend"s house, and he entreated me to come and examine them. In the mean while, I had had not only a peep at the Tapestry, but an introduction to the mayor, who is chief magistrate for life: a very Caesar in miniature. He received me stiffly, and appeared at first rather a priggish sort of a gentleman; observing that "my countryman, Mr.
STOTHARD,[143] had been already there for six months, upon the same errand, and what could I want further?" A short reply served to convince him "that it would be no abuse of an extended indulgence if he would allow another English artist to make a fac-simile of a different description, from a very small portion only."[144]
I now called upon the Abbe Fet.i.t, with a view to gain admission to the _Chapter Library_, but he was from home--dining with the Bishop. In consequence, I went to the palace, and wrote a note in pencil to the Bishop at the porter"s lodge, mentioning the name of M. Lair, and the object of my visit. The porter observed that they had just sat down to dinner--but would I call at three? It seemed an age to that hour; but at length three o"clock came, and I was punctual to the minute. I was immediately admitted into the premises, and even the large mastiff seemed to know that I was not an unexpected visitor--for he neither growled, nor betrayed any symptoms of uneasiness. In my way to the audience chamber I saw the crosier and robes which the Bishop had worn the preceding day, at the ceremony of ordination, lying picturesquely upon the table. The audience chamber was rather elegant, adorned with Gobeleins tapestry, quite fresh, and tolerably expressive: and while my eyes were fastened upon two figures enacting the parts of an Arcadian shepherd and shepherdess, a servant came in and announced the approach of MONSEIGNEUR l"EVEQUE. I rose in a trice to meet him, between doubt and apprehension as to the result. The Bishop entered with a sort of body-guard; being surrounded by six or seven canons who had been dining with him, and who peeped at me over his shoulder in a very significant manner. The flush of good cheer was visible in their countenances--but for their Diocesan, I must say that he is even more interesting on a familiar view. He wore a close purple dress, b.u.t.toned down the middle from top to bottom. A cross hung upon his breast. His countenance had lost nothing of its expression by the absence of the mitre, and he was gracious even to loquacity. I am willing to hope that I was equally prudent and brief in the specification of the object I had in view.
My request was as promptly as it was courteously granted. "You will excuse my attending you in person; (said the Bishop) but I will instantly send for the Abbe Fet.i.t, who is our librarian; and who will have nothing to do but to wait upon you, and facilitate your researches." He then dispatched a messenger for the Abbe Fet.i.t, who quickly arrived with two more trotting after him--and enlivened by the jingling music of the library keys, which were dangling from the Abbe"s fingers, I quickened my steps towards the Chapter Library.
We were no sooner fairly within the library, than I requested my chief conductor to give me a brief outline of its history. "Willingly" he replied. "This library, the remains of a magnificent collection, of from 30, to 40,000 volumes, was originally placed in the Chapter-house, hard by.
Look through the window to your left, and you will observe the ruins of that building. We have here about 5000 volumes: but the original collection consisted of the united libraries of defunct, and even of living, clergymen--for, during the revolution, the clergy, residing both in town and country, conveyed their libraries to the Chapter-house, as a protection against private pillage. Well! in that same Chapter-house, the books, thus collected, were piled one upon another, in layers, flat upon the floor--reaching absolutely, to the cieling ... and for ten long years not a creature ventured to introduce a key into the library door. The windows also were rigidly kept shut. At length the Revolutionists wanted lead for musket b.a.l.l.s, and they unroofed the chapter-house with their usual dexterity. Down came the rain upon the poor books, in consequence; and when M. Moysant received the orders of government to examine this library, and to take away as many books as he wanted for the public library at Caen...
he was absolutely horror-struck by the obstacles which presented themselves. From the close confinement of every door and window, for ten years, the rank and fetid odour which issued, was intolerable. For a full fortnight every door and window was left open for ventilation, ere M.
Moysant could begin his work of selection. He selected about 5000 volumes only; but the infuriated Revolutionists, on his departure, wantonly plundered and destroyed a prodigious number of the remainder ... "et enfin (concluded he) vous voyez, Monsieur, ce qu"ils nous out laisse." You will give me credit for having listened to every word of such a tale.
The present library, which is on the first floor, is apparently about twenty-five feet square. The Abbe made me observe the XIIIth. volume of the _Gallia Christiana_,[145] in boards, remarking that "it was of excessive rarity;" but I doubt this. On shewing me the famous volume of _Sanctius_ or _Sanches de Matrimonio Sacramentario_, 1607, folio, the Abbe observed--"that the author wrote it, standing with his bare feet upon marble." I was well pleased with a pretty _illuminated ms. Missal_, in a large thick quarto volume, with borders and pictures in good condition; but did not fail to commend right heartily the proper bibliomaniacal spirit of M. Fet.i.t in having kept concealed the second volume of _Gering"s Latin Bible_--being the first impression of the sacred text in France--when M.
Moysant came armed with full powers to carry off what treasures he pleased.
No one knows what has become of the first volume, but this second is cruelly imperfect--it is otherwise a fair copy. Upon the whole, although it is almost a matter of _conscience_, as well as of character, with me, to examine every thing in the shape of a library, and especially of a public one, yet it must be admitted that the collection under consideration is hardly worthy of a second visit: and accordingly I took both a first and a final view of it.
From the Chapter I went to the COLLEGE LIBRARY. In other words, there is a fine public school, or Lycee, or college, where a great number of lads and young men are educated "according to art." The building is extensive and well-situated: the play-ground is large and commodious; and there is a well-cultivated garden "tempting with forbidden fruit." Into this garden I strolled in search of the President of the College, who was not within doors. I found him in company with some of the masters, and with several young men either playing, or about to play, at skittles. On communicating the object of my visit, he granted me an immediate pa.s.sport to the library--"mais, Monsieur, (added he) ce n"est rien: il y avoit autrefois _quelque chose_: maintenant, ce n"est qu"un amas de livres tres communs." I thanked him, and accompanied the librarian to the Library; who absolutely apologized all the way for the little entertainment I should receive. There was indeed little enough. The room may be about eighteen feet square. Of the books, a great portion was in vellum bindings, in wretched condition. Here was _Jay"s Polyglot_, and the matrimonial _Sanctius_ again! There was a very respectable sprinkling of _Spanish and French Dictionaries_; some few not wholly undesirable _Alduses_; and the rare Louvain edition of _Sir Thomas More"s Works_, printed in 1566, folio.[146] I saw too, with horror-mingled regret, a frightfully imperfect copy of the _Service of Bayeux Cathedral_, printed in the Gothic letter, UPON VELLUM. But the great curiosity is a small bra.s.s or bronze crucifix, about nine inches high, standing upon the mantlepiece; very ancient, from the character of the crown, which savours of the latter period of Roman art--and which is the only crown, bereft of thorns, that I ever saw upon the head of our Saviour so represented. The eyes appear to be formed of a bright brown gla.s.s. Upon the whole, as this is not a book, nor a fragment of an old illumination, I will say nothing more about its age. I was scarcely three quarters of an hour in the library; but was fully sensible of the politeness of my attendant, and of the truth of his prediction, that I should receive little entertainment from an examination of the books.
It is high time that you should be introduced in proper form to the famous BAYEUX TAPESTRY. Know then, in as few words as possible, that this celebrated piece of Tapestry represents chiefly the INVASION OF ENGLAND by WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, and the subsequent death of Harold at the battle of Hastings. It measures about 214 English feet in length, by about nineteen inches in width; and is supposed to have been worked under the particular superintendance and direction of Matilda, the wife of the Conqueror. It was formerly exclusively kept and exhibited in the Cathedral; but it is now justly retained in the Town Hall, and treasured as the most precious relic among the archives of the city. There is indeed every reason to consider it as one of the most valuable historical monuments which France possesses. It has also given rise to a great deal of archaeological discussion.
Montfaucon, Ducarel, and De La Rue, have come forward successively--but more especially the first and last: and Montfaucon in particular has favoured the world with copper-plate representations of the whole.
Montfaucon"s plates are generally much too small: and the more enlarged ones are too ornamental. It is right, first of all, that you should have an idea how this piece of tapestry is preserved, or rolled up. You see it here, therefore, precisely as it appears after the person who shews it, takes off the cloth with which it is usually covered.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
The first portion of the needle-work, representing the emba.s.sy of Harold, from Edward the Confessor to William Duke of Normandy, is comparatively much defaced--that is to say, the st.i.tches are worn away, and little more than the ground, or fine close linen cloth, remains. It is not far from the beginning--and where the colour is fresh, and the st.i.tches are, comparatively, preserved--that you observe the PORTRAIT OF HAROLD.[147]
You are to understand that the st.i.tches, if they may be so called, are threads laid side by side--and bound down at intervals by cross st.i.tches, or fastenings--upon rather a fine linen cloth; and that the parts intended to represent _flesh_ are left untouched by the needle. I obtained a few straggling shreds of the _worsted_ with which it is Worked. The colours are generally a faded or bluish green, crimson, and pink. About the last five feet of this extraordinary roll are in a yet more decayed and imperfect state than the first portion. But the designer of the subject, whoever he was, had an eye throughout to Roman art--as it appeared in its later stages. The folds of the draperies, and the proportions of the figures, are executed with this feeling.
I must observe that, both at top and at bottom of the princ.i.p.al subject, there is a running allegorical ornament;[148] of which I will not incur the presumption to suppose myself a successful interpreter. The constellations, and the symbols of agriculture and of rural occupation, form the chief subjects of this running ornament. All the inscriptions are executed in capital letters of about an inch in length; and upon the whole, whether this extraordinary and invaluable relic be of the latter end of the XIth, or of the beginning or middle of the XIIth century[149] seems to me a matter of rather a secondary consideration. That it is at once _unique_ and important, must be considered as a position to be neither doubted nor denied, I have learnt, even here, of what importance this tapestry-roll was considered in the time of Bonaparte"s threatened invasion of our country: and that, after displaying it at Paris for two or three months, to awaken the curiosity and excite the love of conquest among the citizens, it was conveyed to one or two _sea-port_ towns, and exhibited upon the stage as a most important _materiel_ in dramatic effect.[150]
I think you have now had a pretty good share of Bayeux intelligence; only that I ought not to close my despatches without a word or two relating to habits, manners, trade, and population. This will scarcely occupy a page.
The men and women here are thoroughly Norman. Stout bodies, plump countenances, wooden shoes, and the cauchoise--even to exceedingly _tall copies_ of the latter! The population may run hard upon ten thousand. The chief articles of commerce are _b.u.t.ter_ and _lace_. Of the former, there are two sorts: one, delicate and well flavoured, is made during winter and spring; put up into small pots, and carried from hence in huge paniers, not only to all the immediately adjacent parts of the country, but even to Paris--and is shipped in large quant.i.ties for the colonies. They have made as much as 120,000 lb. weight each season; but _Isigny_, a neighbouring village, is rather the chief place for its production. The other sort of b.u.t.ter, which is eaten by the common people, and which in fact is made throughout the whole of Lower Normandy, (the very b.u.t.ter, in short, in which the huge _alose_ was floating in the pot of the lively cuisiniere at Duclair[151]) is also chiefly made at Isigny; but instead of a delicate tint, and a fine flavour, it is very much the contrary: and the mode of making and transporting it accords with its qualities. It is salted, and packed in large pots, and even barrels, for the sake of exportation; and not less than 50,000 lb. weight is made each week. The whole profit arising from b.u.t.ter has been estimated at not less than two millions of francs: add to which, the circulation of specie kept up by the payment of the workmen, and the purchase of salt. As to _lace_, there are scarcely fewer than three thousand females constantly employed in the manufacture of that article.
The mechanics here, at least some of them, are equally civil and ingenious.