There is a curious chapter in Pommeraye's Histoire de l'Eglise Cathedrale de Rouen, p. 203, respecting the Duke's taking the habit of a canon of the cathedral. He attended, with his first wife, ANNE OF BURGUNDY, and threw himself upon the liberality and kindness of the monks, to be received by them as one of their order: "il les prioit d'etre receu parmy eux comme un de leurs freres, et d'avoir tous les jours distribution de pain et de vin, et pour marque de fraternite d'etre vetu du surplis et de l'aumusse: comme aussi d'etre associe, luy et sa tres genereuse et tres illustre epouse, aux suffrages de leur compagnie, et a la participation de tous les biens qu'il plaira a Dieu leur donner la grace d'operer," p. 204. A grand procession marked the day of the Duke's admission into the monkish fraternity. The whole of this, with an account of the Duke's superb presents to the sacristy, his dining with his Duchess, and receiving their portion of "eight loaves and four gallons of wine," are distinctly narrated by the minute Pommeraye.

As you approach the Chapel of the Virgin, you pass by an ancient monument, to the left, of a recumbent Bishop, reposing behind a thin pillar, within a pretty ornamented Gothic arch.[45] To the eye of a tasteful antiquary this cannot fail to have its due attraction. While however we are treading upon hallowed ground, rendered if possible more sacred by the ashes of the illustrious dead, let us move gently onwards towards the Chapel of the Virgin, behind the choir. See, what bold and brilliant monumental figures are yonder, to the right of the altar! How gracefully they kneel and how devoutly they pray! They are the figures of the CARDINALS D'AMBOISE—uncle and nephew:—the former, minister of Louis XII.[46] and (what does not necessarily follow, but what gives him as high a claim upon the gratitude of posterity) the restorer and beautifier of the glorious building in which you are contemplating his figure. This splendid monument is entirely of black and white marble, of the early part of the sixteenth century. The figures just mentioned are of white marble, kneeling upon cushions, beneath a rich canopy of Gothic fretwork. They are in their professional robes; their heads are bare, exhibiting the tonsure, with the hair in one large curl behind. A small whole-length figure of St. George, their tutelary saint, is below them, in gilded marble: and the whole base, or lower frieze, of the monument, is surrounded by six delicately sculptured females, about three feet high, emblematic of the virtues for which these cardinals were so eminently distinguished. These figures, representing Faith, Charity, Prudence, Force, Justice, and Temperance, are flanked by eight smaller ones, placed in carved niches; while, above them, are the twelve Apostles, not less beautifully executed.[47]

On gazing at this splendid monument of ancient piety and liberality—and with one's mind deeply intent upon the characters of the deceased—let us fancy we hear the sound of the GREAT BELL from the south-west tower ... called the Amboise Tower ... erected, both the bell and the tower, by the uncle and minister AMBOISE. Know, my dear friend, that there was once a bell, (and the largest in Europe, save one) which used to send forth its sound, for three successive centuries, from the said tower. This bell was broken about thirty years ago, and destroyed in the ravages of the immediately succeeding years.[48] The south-west tower remains, and the upper part of the central tower, with the whole of the lofty wooden spire:—the fruits of the liberality of the excellent men of whom such honourable mention has been made. Considering that this spire is very lofty, and composed of wood, it is surprising that it has not been destroyed by tempest, or by lightning.[49] The taste of it is rather capricious than beautiful.

I have not yet done with the monuments, or rather have only commenced the account of them.[50] Examine yonder recumbent figure, to the left of the altar, opposite the splendid monument upon which I have just been dilating. It is lying upon its back, with a ghastly expression of countenance, representing the moment when the last breath has escaped from the body. It is the figure of the Grand SENESCHAL DE BREZE,[51]—Governor of Rouen, and husband of the celebrated DIANE DE POICTIERS—that thus claims our attention. This figure is quite naked, lying upon its back, with the right hand placed on the stomach, but in an action which indicates life—and therefore it is in bad taste, as far as truth is concerned; for the head being fallen back, much shrunken, and with a ghastly expression of countenance—indicating that some time has elapsed since it breathed its last—the hand could not rest in this position. The cenotaph is of black marble, disfigured by the names of idle visitors who choose to leave such impertinent memorials behind. The famous GOUJON is supposed to be the sculptor of the figure, which is painfully clever, but it strikes me as being too small. At any rate, the arms and body seem to be too strong and fleshy for the shrunken and death-stricken expression of the countenance. Above the Seneschal, thus prostrate and lifeless, there is another and a very clever representation of him, on a smaller scale, on horseback.

On each side of this figure (which has not escaped serious injury) are two females in white marble; one representing the VIRGIN, and the other DIANE DE POICTIERS:[52] they are little more than half the size of life. The whole is in the very best style of the sculpture of the time of Francis I. These precious specimens of art, as well as several other similar remains, were carried away during the revolution, to a place of safety. The choir is spacious, and well adapted to its purposes; but who does not grieve to see the Archbishop's stall, once the most curious and costly, of the Gothic order, and executed at the end of the XVth century, transformed into a stately common-place canopy, supported by columns of chestnut-wood carved in the Grecian style? The LIBRARY, which used to terminate the north transept, is—not gone—but transferred. A fanciful stair-case, with an appropriate inscription,[53] yet attest that it was formerly an appendage to that part of the edifice.

Before I quit the subject of the cathedral, I must not fail to tell you something relating to the rites performed therein. Let us quit therefore the dead for the living. Of course we saw, here, a repetition of the ceremonies observed at Dieppe; but previously to the feast of the Ascension we were also present at the confirmation of three hundred boys and three hundred girls, each very neatly and appropriately dressed, in a sort of sabbath attire, and each holding a lighted wax taper in the hand. The girls were dressed in white, with white veils; and the rich lent veils to those who had not the means of purchasing them. The cathedral, especially about the choir, was crowded to excess. I hired a chair, stood up, and gazed as earnestly as the rest. The interest excited among the parents, and especially the mothers, was very striking. "Voila la petite—qu'elle a l'air charmant!—le petit ange!"....A stir is made ... they rise... and approach, in the most measured order, the rails of the choir ... There they deposit their tapers. The priests, very numerous, extinguish them as dexterously as they can; and the whole cathedral is perfumed with the mixed scent of the wax and frankincense. The boys, on approaching the altar, and giving up their tapers, kneel down; then shut their eyes, open their mouths; and the priests deposit the consecrated wafer upon their tongues. The procession now took a different direction. They all went into the nave, where a sermon was preached to the young people, expressly upon the occasion, by a Monsieur Quillebeuf, a canon of the cathedral, and a preacher of considerable popularity. He had one of the most meagre and forbidding physiognomies I ever beheld, and his beard was black and unshaven. But he preached well; fluently, and even eloquently: making a very singular, but not ungraceful, use of his left arm—and displaying at times rather a happy familiarity of manner, wholly exempt from vulgarity, and well suited to the capacities and feelings of his youthful audience. His subject was "belief in Christ Jesus;" on which he gave very excellent proofs and evidences. His voice was thin, but clear, and distinctly heard.

And now, my dear Friend, if you are not tired with this detour of the CATHEDRAL, suppose we take a promenade to the next most important ecclesiastical edifice in the city of Rouen. What say you therefore to a stroll to the ABBEY of ST. OUEN? "Willingly," methinks I hear you reply. To the abbey therefore let us go.

Leaving the Cathedral, you pass a beautifully sculptured fountain (of the early time of Francis I.) which stands at the corner of a street, to the right; and which, from its central situation, is visited the live-long day for the sake of its limpid waters. Push on a little further; then, turning to the right, you get into a sort of square, and observe the ABBEY—or rather the west-front of it, full in face of you. You gaze, and are first struck with its matchless window: call it rose, or marygold, as you please. I think, for delicacy and richness of ornament, this window is perfectly unrivalled. There is a play of line in the mullions, which, considering their size and strength, may be pronounced quite a master-piece of art. You approach, regretting the neglected state of the lateral towers, and enter, through the large and completely-opened centre doors, the nave of the Abbey. It was towards sun-set when we made our first entrance. The evening was beautiful; and the variegated tints of sun-beam, admitted through the stained glass of the window, just noticed, were perfectly enchanting. The window itself, as you look upwards, or rather as you fix your eye upon the centre of it, from the remote end of the Abbey, or the Lady's Chapel, was a perfect blaze of dazzling light: and nave, choir, and side aisles, seemed magically illumined ...

Seemed all on fire—within, around; Deep sacristy and altar's pale; Shone every pillar foliage-bound....

Lay of the Last Minstrel.

We declared instinctively that the ABBEY OF ST. OUEN could hardly have a rival;—certainly not a superior.



As the evening came on, the gloom of almost every side chapel and recess was rendered doubly impressive by the devotion of numerous straggling supplicants; and invocations to the presiding spirit of the place, reached the ears and touched the hearts of the bystanders. The grand western entrance presents you with the most perfect view of the choir—a magical circle, or rather oval—flanked by lofty and clustered pillars, and free from the surrounding obstruction of screens, &c. Nothing more airy and more captivating of the kind can be imagined. The finish and delicacy of these pillars are quite surprising. Above, below, around—every thing is in the purest style of the XIVth and XVth centuries. The central tower is a tower of beauty as well as of strength. Yet in regard to further details, connected with the interior, it must be admitted that there is very little more which is deserving of particular description; except it be the gallery, which runs within the walls of the nave and choir, and which is considerably more light and elegant than that of the cathedral. A great deal has been said about the circular windows at the end of the south transept, and they are undoubtedly elegant: but compared with the one at the extremity of the nave, they are rather to be noticed from the tale attached to them, than from their positive beauty. The tale, my friend, is briefly this. These windows were finished (as well as the larger one at the west front) about the year 1439. One of them was executed by the master-mason, the other by his apprentice; and on being criticised by competent judges, the performance of the latter was said to eclipse that of the former. In consequence, the master became jealous and revengeful, and actually poniarded his apprentice. He was of course tried, condemned, and executed; but an existing monument to his memory attests the humanity of the monks in giving him Christian interment.[54] On the whole, it is the absence of all obtrusive and unappropriate ornament which gives to the interior of this building that light, unencumbered, and faery-like effect which so peculiarly belongs to it, and which creates a sensation that I never remember to have felt within any other similar edifice.

Let me however put in a word for the Organ. It is immense, and perhaps larger than that belonging to the Cathedral. The tin pipes (like those of the organ in the Cathedral) are of their natural colour. I paced the pavement beneath, and think that this organ cannot be short of forty English feet in length. Indeed, in all the churches which I have yet seen, the organs strike me as being of magnificent dimensions.

You should be informed however that the extreme length of the interior, from the further end of the Chapel of the Virgin, to its opposite western extremity, is about four hundred and fifty English feet; while the height, from the pavement to the roof of the nave, or the choir, is one hundred and eight English feet. The transepts are about one hundred and forty feet in length. The central tower, upon the whole, is not only the grandest tower in Rouen, but there is nothing for its size in our own country that can compare with it. It rises upwards of one hundred feet above the roof of the church; and is supported below, or rather within, by four magnificent cluster-pillared bases, each about thirty-two feet in circumference. Its area, at bottom, can hardly be less than thirty-six feet square. The choir is flanked by flying buttresses, which have a double tier of small arches, altogether "marvellous and curious to behold."

I could not resist stealing quietly round to the porch of the south transept, and witnessing, in that porch, one of the most chaste, light, and lovely specimens of Gothic architecture, which can be contemplated. Indeed, I hardly know any thing like it.[55] The leaves of the poplar and ash were beginning to mantle the exterior; and, seen through their green and gay lattice work, the traceries of the porch seemed to assume a more interesting aspect. They are now mending the upper part of the facade with new stone of peculiar excellence—but it does not harmonise with the old work. They merit our thanks, however, for the preservation of what remains of this precious pile. I should remark to you that the eastern and north-eastern sides of the abbey of St. Ouen are surrounded with promenades and trees: so that, occasionally, either when walking, or sitting upon the benches, within these gardens, you catch one of the finest views imaginable of the abbey.

At this early season of the year, much company is assembled every evening in these walks: while, in front of the abbey, or in the square facing the western end, the national guard is exercised in the day time—and troops of fair nymphs and willing youths mingle in the dance on a sabbath evening, while a platform is erected for the instrumental performers, and for the exhibition of feats of legerdemain. You must not take leave of St. Ouen without being told that, formerly, the French Kings used occasionally to "make revel" within the Abbot's house. Henry II, Charles IX, and Henry III, each took a fancy to this spot—but especially the famous HENRI QUATRE. It is reported that that monarch sojourned here for four months—- and his reply to the address of the aldermen and sheriff of Rouen is yet preserved both in MS. and by engravings. "The King having arrived at St. Ouen (says an old MS.)[56] the keys of the tower were presented to him, in the presence of M. de Montpensier, the governor of the province, upon a velvet-cushion. The keys were gilt. The King took them, and replacing them in the hands of the governor, said—"Mon cousin, je vous les baille pour les rendre, qu'ils les gardent;"—then, addressing the aldermen, he added, "Soyez moi bons sujets et je vous serai bon Roi, et le meilleur Roi que vous ayez jamais eu."

Next to the Abbey of St. Ouen, "go by all means and see the church St. Maclou"—say your friends and your guides. The Abbe Turquier accompanied me thither. The great beauties of St. Maclou are its tower and its porch. Of the tower, little more than the lantern remains. This is about 160 English feet in height. Above it was a belfry or steeple, another 110 feet in height, constructed of wood and lead—but which has been nearly destroyed for the sake of the lead,—for the purpose of slaughter or resistance during the late revolution.[57] The exteriors of the porches are remarkable for their elaborate ornaments; especially those in the Rue Martainville. They are highly praised by the inhabitants, and are supposed to be after the models of the famous Goujon. Perhaps they are rather encumbered with ornament, and want that quiet effect, and pure good taste, which we see in the porches of the Cathedral and of the Abbey St. Ouen. However, let critics determine as they will upon this point—they must at least unite in reprobating the barbarous edict which doomed these delicate pieces of sculptured art to be deluged with an over-whelming tint of staring yellow ochre!

Of the remaining churches, I shall mention only four: two of them chiefly remarkable for their interior, and two for their extreme antiquity. Of the two former, that of St. Vincent presents you with a noble organ, with a light choir profusely gilded, and (rarer accompaniment!) in very excellent taste. But the stained glass is the chief magnet of attraction. It is rich, varied, and vivid to a degree; and, upon the whole, is the finest specimen of this species of art in the present ecclesiastical remains of the city. St. Vivien is the second of these two former. It is a fine open church, with a large organ, having a very curious wooden screen in front, elaborately carved, and, as I conceive, of the very earliest part of the sixteenth century. I ascended the organ-loft; and the door happening to be open, I examined this screen (which has luckily escaped the yellow-ochre edict) very minutely, and was much gratified by the examination. Such pieces of art, so situated, are of rare occurrence. For the first time, within a parish church, I stepped upon the pavement of the choir: walked gently forwards, to the echo of my own footsteps, (for not a creature was in the church) and, "with no unhallowed hand" I would hope, ventured to open the choral or service book, resting upon its stand. It was wide, thick, and ponderous: upon vellum: beautifully written and well executed in every respect, with the exception of the illuminations which were extremely indifferent. I ought to tell you that the doors of the churches, abroad, are open at all times of the day: the ancient or more massive door, or portal, is secured from shutting; but a temporary, small, shabby wooden door, covered with dirty green baize, opening and shutting upon circular hinges, just covers the vacuum left by the absence of the larger one.

Of the two ancient churches, above alluded to, that of St. Gervais, is situated considerably to the north of where the Boulevards Cauchoise and Bouvreuil meet. It was hard by this favourite spot, say the Norman historians, that the ancient Dukes of Normandy built their country-houses: considering it as a lieu de plaisance. Here too it was that the Conqueror came to breathe his last—desiring to be conveyed thither, from his palace in the city, for the benefit of the pure air.[58] I walked with M. Le Prevost to this curious church: having before twice seen it. But the Crypt is the only thing worth talking about, on the score of antiquity. The same accomplished guide bade me remark the extraordinary formation of the capitals of the pillars: which, admitting some perversity of taste in a rude, Norman, imitative artist, are decidedly of Roman character. "Perhaps," said M. Le Prevost, "the last efforts of Roman art previous to the relinquishment of the Romans." Among these capitals there is one of the perfect Doric order; while in another you discover the remains of two Roman eagles. The columns are all of the same height; and totally unlike every thing of the kind which I have seen or heard of.

We descended the hill upon which St. Gervais is built, and walked onward towards St. Paul, situated at the further and opposite end of the town, upon a gentle eminence, just above the Banks of the Seine.[59] M. Le Prevost was still our conductor. This small edifice is certainly of remote antiquity, but I suspect it to be completely Norman. The eastern end is full of antiquarian curiosities. We observed something like a Roman mask as the centre ornament upon the capital of one of the circular figures; and Mr. Lewis made a few slight drawings of one of the grotesque heads in the exterior, of which the hair is of an uncommon fashion. The Saxon whiskers are discoverable upon several of these faces. Upon the whole, it is possible that parts of this church may have been built at the latter end of the tenth century, after the Normans had made themselves completely masters of this part of the kingdom; yet it is more probable that there is no vestige left which claims a more ancient date than that of the end of the eleventh century. I ought just to notice the church of St. Sever,[60] supposed by some to be yet more ancient: but I had no opportunity of taking a particular survey of it.

Thus much, or rather thus little, respecting the ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES of Rouen. They merit indeed a volume of themselves. This city could once boast of upwards of thirty parish churches; of which very nearly a dozen have been recently (I mean during the Revolution) converted into warehouses. It forms a curious, and yet melancholy melange—this strange misappropriation of what was formerly held most sacred, to the common and lowest purposes of civil life! You enter these warehouses, or offices of business, and see the broken shaft, the battered capital, and half-demolished altar-piece—the gilded or the painted frieze—in the midst of bales of goods—casks, ropes, and bags of cotton: while, without, the same spirit of demolition prevails in the fractured column, and tottering arch way. Thus time brings its changes and decays—premature as well as natural: and the noise of the car-men and injunctions of the clerk are now heard, where formerly there reigned a general silence, interrupted only by the matin or evening chaunt! I deplored this sort of sacrilegious adaptation, to a respectable-looking old gentleman, sitting out of doors upon a chair, and smoking his pipe—"c'est dommage, Monsieur, qu'on a converti l'eglise a"—He stopped me: raised his left hand: then took away his pipe with his right; gave a gentle whiff, and shrugging up his shoulders, half archly and half drily exclaimed—"Mais que voulez vous, Monsieur?—ce sont des evenemens qu'on ne peut ni prevoir ni prevenir. Voila ce que c'est!" Leaving you to moralize upon this comfortable morceau of philosophy, consider me ever, &c.

[36] A most ample and correct view of this west front will be found in Mr. Cotman's Norman Antiquities.

[37] It is about 180 English feet in width, by about 150 in the highest part of its elevation. The plates which I saw at Mr. Frere's, bookseller, upon the Quai de Paris, from the drawings of Langlois, were very inadequate representations of the building.

[38] The ravages committed by the Calvinists throughout nearly the whole of the towns in Normandy, and especially in the cathedrals, towards the year 1560, afford a melancholy proof of the effects of RELIGIOUS ANIMOSITY. But the Calvinists were bitter and ferocious persecutors. Pommeraye, in his quarto volume, Histoire de l'Eglise Cathedrale de Rouen, 1686, has devoted nearly one hundred pages to an account of Calvinistic depredations.

[39] [Mr. Cotman has a plate of the elevation of the front of this south transept; and a very minute and brilliant one will be found in the previous edition of this Tour—by Mr. Henry le Keux: for which that distinguished Artist received the sum of 100 guineas. The remuneration was well merited.]

[40] [Mons. Licquet says each clustered pillar contains thirty-one columns.]

[41] This chapel is about ninety-five English feet in length, by thirty in width, and sixty in heighth. The sprawling painting by Philippe de Champagne, at the end of it, has no other merit than that of covering so many square feet of wall. The architecture of this chapel is of the XIVth century: the stained glass windows are of the latter end of the XVth. On completing the circuit of the cathedral, one is surprised to count not fewer than twenty-five chapels.

[42] [Mons. Licquet is paraphrastically warm in his version, here. He renders it thus: "les atteintes effroyables du vandalisme revolutionaire," vol. i. p. 64.]

[43] Sandford, after telling us that he thinks there "never was any portraiture" of the Duke, thus sums up his character. "He was justly accounted one of the best generals that ever blossomed out of the royal stem of PLANTAGENET. His valour was not more terrible to his enemies than his memory honourable; for (doubtful whether with more glory to him, or to the speaker) King Lewis the Eleventh being counselled by certain envious persons to deface his tomb (wherein with him, saith one, was buried all English men's good fortune in France) used these indeed princely words: 'What honour shall it be to us, or you, to break this monument, and to pull out of the ground the bones of HIM, whom, in his life time, neither my father nor your progenitors, with all their puissance, were once able to make flie a foot backwarde? who, by his strength, policy and wit kept them all out of the principal dominions of France, and out of this noble duchy of Normandy? Wherefore, I say first, GOD SAVE HIS SOUL; and let his body now lie in rest, which when he was alive, would have disquieted the proudest of us all. And for THIS TOMB, I assure you it is not so worthy or convenient as his honour and acts have deserved.'" p. 314-5, Ed. 1707[A] The famous MISSAL, once in the possession of this celebrated nobleman, and containing the only authenticated portrait of him (which is engraved in the Bibliog. Decameron, vol. i. p. cxxxvii.) is now the property of John Milner, Esq. of York Place, Portman Square, who purchased it of the Duke of Marlborough. The Duke had purchased it at the sale of the library of the late James Edwards, Esq. for 687l. 15s.

[A] [Upon this, Mons. Licquet, with supposed shrewdness and success, remarks,—"All very well: but we must not forget that the innocent Joan of Arc was burnt alive—thanks to this said Duke of Bedford, as every one knows!"]

[44] [A different tale may be told of ONE of his Successors in the same Anglo-Norman pursuit. The expenses attending the graphic embellishments alone of the previous edition of this work, somewhat exceeded the sum of four thousand seven hundred pounds. The risk was entirely my own. The result was the loss of about 200l.: exclusively of the expences incurred in travelling about 2000 miles. The copper-plates (notwithstanding every temptation, and many entreaties, to multiply impressions of several of the subjects engraved) were DESTROYED. There may be something more than a mere negative consolation, in finding that the work is RISING in price, although its author has long ceased to partake of any benefit resulting from it.]

[45] A plate of this Monument is published in the Tour of Normandy by Dawson Turner, Esq.

[46] The Cardinal died in his fiftieth year only; and his funeral was graced and honoured by the presence of his royal master. Guicciardini calls him "the oracle and right arm of Louis." Of eight brothers, whom he left behind, four attained to the episcopal rank. His nephew succeeded him as Archbishop. See also Historia Genealogica Magnatum Franciae; vol. vii. p. 129; quoted in the Gallia Christiana, vol. xi. col. 96.

It was during the archiepiscopacy of the successor of the nephew of Amboise—namely, that of CHARLES of BOURBON—that the Calvanistic persecution commenced. "Tunc vero coepit civitas, dioecesis, universaque provincia lamentabilem in modum conflictari, saevientibus ob religionis dissidia plusquam civilibus bellis," &c. But then the good Archbishop, however bountiful he might have been towards the poor at Roncesvalles, (when he escorted Philip II.'s first wife Elizabeth, daughter of Henry II. to the confines of Spain, after he had married her to that wretched monarch) should not have inflamed the irritated minds of the Calvinists, by BURNING ALIVE, in 1559, John Cottin, one of their most eminent preachers, by way of striking terror into the rest! Well might the Chronicler observe, as the result, "novas secta illa in dies acquirebat vires." About 1560-2, the Calvinists got the upper hand; and repaid the Catholics with a vengeance. Charles of Bourbon died in 1590: so that he had an arduous and agitated time of it.

[47] How long will this monument—(matchless of its kind)—continue unrepresented by the BURIN? If Mr. Henry Le Keux were to execute it in his best style, the world might witness in it a piece of Art entirely perfect of its kind. But let the pencils of Messrs. Corbould and Blore be first exercised on the subject. In the mean while, why is GALLIC ART inert?

[48] The choir was formerly separated from the surrounding chapels, or rather from the space between it and the chapels, by a superb brass grating, full of the most beautiful arabesque ornaments—another testimony of the magnificent spirit of the Cardinal and Prime Minister of Louis XII.: whose arms, as well as the figure of his patron, St. George, were seen in the centre of every compartment ... The Revolution has not left a vestige behind!

[49] [In this edition, I put the above passage in Italics,—to mark, that, within three years of writing it, the spire was consumed by LIGHTNING. The newspapers of both France and England were full of this melancholy event; and in the year 1823, Monsieur Hyacinthe Langlois, of Rouen, published an account of it, together with some views (indifferently lithographised) of the progress of the burning. "It should seem (says Mons. Licquet) that the author had a presentiment of what was speedily to take place:—for the rest, the same species of destruction threatens all similar edifices, for the want of conductors." I possess a fragment of the lead of the roof, as it was collected after a state of fusion—and sent over to me by some friend at Rouen. The fusion has caused portions of the lead to assume a variety of fantastic shapes—not altogether unlike a gothic building.]

[50] Let me add that the whole length of the cathedral is about four hundred and forty feet; and the transept about one hundred and seventy-five; English measure. The height of the nave is about ninety, and of the lantern one hundred and sixty-eight feet, English. The length of the nave is two hundred and twenty-eight feet.

[51] He died in 1531. Both the ancient and yet existing inscriptions are inserted by Gilbert, from Pommeraye and Farin; and formerly there was seen, in the middle of the monument, the figure of the Seneschal habited as a Count, with all the insignia of his dignity. But this did not outlive the Revolution.

[52] It must be admitted that Diana, when she caused the verses

Indivulsa tibi quondam et fidissima conjux Vt fuit in thalamo, sic erit in tumulo.

to be engraved upon the tomb of the Seneschal, might well have "moved the bile" of the pious Benedictine Pommeraye, and have excited the taunting of Ducarel, when they thought upon her subsequent connexion, in the character of mistress, with Henry the Second of France. Henry however endeavoured to compensate for his indiscretions by the pomp and splendor of his processions. Rouen, so celebrated of old for the entries of Kings and Nobles, seems to have been in a perfect blaze of splendor upon that of the Lover of Diana—"qui fut plus magnifique que toutes celles qu'on avoit vu jusqu'alors:" see Farin's Hist. de la Ville de Rouen, vol. i. p. 121, where there is a singularly minute and gay account of all the orders and degrees of citizens—(with their gorgeous accoutrements of white plumes, velvet hats, rich brocades, and curiously wrought taffetas) of whom the processions were composed. It must have been a perfectly dramatic sight, upon the largest possible scale. It was from respect to the character or the memory of DIANA, that so many plaster-representations of her were erected on the exteriors of buildings: especially of those within small squares or quadrangles. In wandering about Rouen, I stumbled upon several old mansions of this kind.

[53] The inscription is this:

Si quem sancta tenet meditandi in lege voluntas, Hic poterit residens, sacris intendere libris.

Pommeraye has rather an interesting gossiping chapter [Chap. xxii.] "De la Bibliotheque de la Cathedrale;" p. 163: to which FRANCOIS DE HARLAY, about the year 1630, was one of the most munificent benefactors.

[54] Christian interment.]—"Les Religieux de Saint Ouen touchez de compassion envers ce malheureux artisan, obtinrent son corps de la justice, et pour reconnoissance des bons services qu'il leur avoit rendus dans la construction de leur eglise, nonobstant sa fin tragique, ne laisserent pas de luy fair l'honneur de l'inhumer dans la chapelle de sainte Agnes, ou sa tombe se voit encore auec cet Epitaphe:

Cy gist M. ALEXANDRE DE BERNEUAL, Maistre des oeuvres de Massonnerie.

[55] Even Dr. Ducarel became warm—on contemplating this porch! "The porch at the south entrance into the church (says he) is much more worthy of the spectator's attention, being highly enriched with architectonic ornaments; particularly two beautiful cul de lamps, which from the combination of a variety of spiral dressings, as they hang down from the vaulted roof, produce a very pleasing effect." p. 28.

[56] Consult the account given by M. Le Prevost in the "Precis Analytique des Travaux de l'Academie, &c. de Rouen," for the year 1816, p. 151, &c.

[57] Farin tells us that you could go from the top of the lantern to the cross, or to the summit of the belfry, "outside, without a ladder; so admirable was the workmanship." "Strangers (adds he) took models of it for the purpose of getting them engraved, and they were sold publicly at Rome." Hist. de la Ville de Rouen, 1738, 4to. vol. ii. p. 154. There are thirteen chapels within this church; of which however the building cannot be traced lower than quite the beginning of the XVIth century. The extreme length and width of the interior is about 155 by 82 feet English. Even in Du Four's time the population of this parish was very great, and its cemetery (adds he) was the first and most regular in Rouen. He gives a brief, but glowing description of it—"on va tout autour par des galeries couvertes et pavees; et, deux de ces galeries sont decorees de deux autels," &c. p. 150.

Alas! time—or the revolution—has annihilated all this. Let me however add that M. COTMAN has published a view of the staircase in the church of which I am speaking.

[58] Ordericus Vitalis says, that the dying monarch requested to be conveyed thither, to avoid the noise and bustle of a populous town. Rouen is described to be, in his time, "populosa civitas." Consult Duchesne's Historiae Normannor. Scrip. Antiq. p.656.

[59] A view of it is published by M. Cotman.

[60] St. Sever. This church is situated in the southern fauxbourgs, by the side of the Seine, and was once surrounded by gardens, &c. As you cross the bridge of boats, and go to the race-ground, you leave it to the right; but it is not so old as St. Paul—where, Farin says, the worship of ADONIS was once performed!



LETTER VI.

HALLES DE COMMERCE. PLACE DE LA PUCELLE D'ORLEANS (JEANNE D'ARC.) BASSO-RILIEVO OF THE CHAMP DE DRAP D'OR. PALACE AND COURTS OF JUSTICE.

You must make up your mind to see a few more sights in the city of Rouen, before I conduct you to the environs, or to the summit of Mont St. Catherine. We must visit some relics of antiquity, and take a yet more familiar survey of the town, ere we strive

... superas evadere ad auras.

Indeed the information to be gained well merits the toil endured in its acquisition. The only town in England that can give you any notion of Rouen, is CHESTER; although the similitude holds only in some few particulars. I must, in the first place then, make especial mention of the HALLES DE COMMERCE. The markets here are numerous and abundant, and are of all kinds. Cloth, cotton, lace, linen, fish, fruit, vegetables, meat, corn, and wine; these for the exterior and interior of the body. Cattle, wood, iron, earthenware, seeds, and implements of agriculture; these for the supply of other necessities considered equally important. Each market has its appropriate site. For picturesque effect, you must visit the Vieux Marche, for vegetables and fish; which is kept in an open space, once filled by the servants and troops of the old Dukes of Normandy, having the ancient ducal palace in front. This is the fountain head whence the minor markets are supplied. Every stall has a large old tattered sort of umbrella spread above it, to ward off the rain or rays of heat; and, seen from some points of view, the effect of all this, with the ever-restless motion of the tongues and feet of the vendors, united to their strange attire, is exceedingly singular and interesting.

Leaving the old market place, you pass on to the Marche Neuf, where fruits, eggs, and butter are chiefly sold. At this season of the year there is necessarily little or no fruit, but I could have filled one coat pocket with eggs for less than half a franc. While on the subject of buying and selling, let us go to the Halles of Rouen; being large public buildings now exclusively appropriated to the sale of cloths, linen, and the varied et-ceteras of mercery. These are at once spacious and interesting in a high degree. They form the divisions of the open spaces, or squares, where the markets just mentioned are held; and were formerly the appurtenances of the palaces and chateaux of the old Dukes of Normandy: the latter of which are now wholly demolished. You must rise betimes on a Friday morning, to witness a sight of which you can have no conception in England: unless it be at a similar scene in Leeds. By six o'clock the busy world is in motion within these halls. Then commences the incessant and inconceivable vociferation of buying and selling. The whole scene is alive, and carried on in several large stone-arched rooms, supported by a row of pillars in the centre. Of these halls, the largest is about three hundred and twenty English feet in length, by fifty-five in width. The centre, in each division, contains tables and counters for the display of cloth, cotton, stuff, and linen of all descriptions. The display of divers colours—the commendations bestowed by the seller, and the reluctant assent of the purchaser—the animated eye of the former, and the calculating brow of the latter—the removal of one set of wares, and the bringing on of another—in short, the never-ceasing succession of sounds and sights astonishes the gravity of an Englishman; whose astonishment is yet heightened by the extraordinary good humour which every where prevails. The laugh, the joke, the equivoque, and reply, were worth being recorded in pointed metre;—and what metre but that of Crabbe could possibly render it justice? By nine of the clock all is hushed. The sale is over: the goods are cleared; and both buyers and sellers have quitted the scene.

From still, let me conduct you to active life. In other words, let us hasten to take a peep at the Horse and Cattle Market; which is fixed in the very opposite part of the town; that is, towards the northern Boulevards. The horses are generally entire: and indeed you have scarcely any thing in England which exceeds the Norman horse, properly so understood. This animal unites the hardiness of the mule with the strength of his own particular species. He is also docile, and well trained; and a Norman, from pure affection, thinks he can never put enough harness upon his back. I have seen the face and shoulders of a cart-horse almost buried beneath a profusion of ornament by way of collar; and have beheld a farmer's horse, led out to the plough, with trappings as gorgeous and striking as those of a General's charger brought forward for a review. The carts and vehicles are usually balanced in the centre upon two wheels, which diminishes much of the pressure upon the horse. Yet the caps of the wheels are frightfully long, and inconveniently projecting: while the eternally loud cracking of the whip is most repulsive to nervous ears. On market days, the horses stand pretty close to each other for sale; and are led off, for shew, amidst boys, girls, and women, who contrive very dexterously to get out of the way of their active hoofs. The French seem to have an instinctive method of doing that, which, with ourselves, seems to demand forethought and deliberation.

Of the STREETS, in this extraordinary city, that of the Great Clock—(Rue de la Grosse Horloge) which runs in a straight line from the western front of the Cathedral, at right angles with the Rue des Carmes, is probably the most important, ancient, and interesting. When we were conveyed, on our entrance, (in the cabriolet of the Diligence) beneath the arch to the upper part of which this old fashioned clock is attached, we were lost in admiration at the singularity of the scene. The inhabitants saw, and enjoyed, our astonishment. There is a fountain beneath, or rather on one side of this arch; over which is sculptured a motley group of insipid figures, of the latter time of Louis XIV. The old tower near this clock merits a leisurely survey: as do also some old houses, to the right, on looking at it. It was within this old tower that a bell was formerly tolled, at nine o'clock each evening, to warn the inhabitants abroad to return within the walls of the city.[61]

Turning to the left, in this street, and going down a sharp descent, we observed a stand of hackney coaches in a small square, called La Place de la Pucelle: that is, the place where the famous JEANNE D'ARC[62] was imprisoned, and afterwards burnt. What sensations possess us as we gaze on each surrounding object!—although, now, each surrounding object has undergone a palpable change! Ah, my friend—what emotions were once excited within this small space! What curiosity, and even agony of mind, mingled with the tumults of indignation, the shouts of revenge, and the exclamations of pity! But life now goes on just the same as if nothing of the kind had happened here. The past is forgotten. This hapless Joan of Arc is one of the many, who, having been tortured as heretics, have been afterwards reverenced as martyrs. Her statue was, not very long after her execution, almost adored upon that very spot where her body had been consigned with execrations to the flames. The square, in which this statue stands, contains probably one of the very oldest houses in Rouen—and as interesting as it is ancient. It is invisible from without: but you open a wooden gate, and quickly find yourself within a small quadrangle, having three of its sides covered with basso-rilievo figures in plaster. That side which faces you is evidently older than the left: indeed I have no hesitation in assigning it to the end of the XVth century. The clustered ornaments of human figures and cattle, with which the whole of the exterior is covered, reminds us precisely of those numerous little wood-cut figures, chiefly pastoral, which we see in the borders of printed missals of the same period. The taste which prevails in them is half French and half Flemish. Not so is the character of the plaster figures which cover the left side on entering. These, my friend, are no less than the representation of the procession of Henry VIII. and Francis I. to the famous CHAMP DE DRAP D'OR: of which Montfaucon[63] has published engravings. Having carefully examined this very curious relic, of the beginning of the sixteenth century, I have no hesitation in pronouncing the copy of Montfaucon (or rather of the artist employed by him) to be most egregiously faithless. I visited it again and again, considering it to be worth all the "huge clocks" in Rouen put together. I hardly know how to take you from this interesting spot—from this exhibition of beautiful old art—especially too when I consider that Francis himself once occupied the mansion, and held a Council here, with both English and French; that his bugles once sounded from beneath the gate way, and that his goblets once sparkled upon the chestnut tables of the great hall. I do hope and trust that the Royal Academy of Rouen, will not suffer this architectural relic to perish, without leaving behind a substantial and faithful representation of it.[64]

While upon the subject of ancient edifices, let me return; and, crossing the Rue de la Grosse Horloge, contrive to place you in the centre of the square which is formed by the PALAIS DE JUSTICE. The inhabitants consider this building as the principal lion in their city. It has indeed claims to notice and admiration, but will not bear the severe scrutiny of a critic in Gothic architecture. It was partly erected by Louis XII. at the entreaty of the provincial States, through the interest of the famous Cardinal d'Amboise, and partly by Francis I. This building precisely marks the restoration of Gothic taste in France, and the peculiar style of architecture which prevailed in the reign of Francis I. To say the truth, this style, however sparkling and imposing, is objectionable in many respects: for it is, in the first place, neither pure Gothic nor pure Grecian—but an injudicious mixture of both. Greek arabesque borders are running up the sides of a portal terminating in a Gothic arch; and the Gothic ornaments themselves are not in the purest, or the most pleasing, taste. Too much is given to parts, and too little to the whole. The external ornaments are frequently heavy, from their size and elaborate execution; and they seem to be stuck on to the main building without rhyme or reason.

The criminal offences are tried in the hall to the right, and the prisoners are confined in the lower part of the building to the left: above which you mount by a flight of stone steps, which conducts you to a singularly curious hall,[65] about one hundred and seventy-five English feet in length—roofed by wooden ribs, in the form of an arch, and displaying a most curious and exact specimen of carpenter's work. This is justly shewn and commented upon to the enquiring traveller. Parts of the building are devoted to the courts of assize, and to tribunals of audience of almost every description. The first Presidents of the Parliament lived formerly in the building which faces you upon entrance, but matters have now taken a very different turn. Upon the whole, this Town Hall, or call it what you will, is rather a magnificent structure; and certainly superior to most provincial buildings of the kind which we possess in England. I should tell you that the courts for commercial causes are situated near the quays, at the south part of the town: and Monsieur Riaux, who conducted me thither, (and who possesses the choicest library[66] of antiquarian books, of all descriptions, relating to Rouen, which I had the good fortune to see) carried me to the Hall of Commerce, which, among other apartments, contains a large chamber (contiguous to the Court of Justice) covered with fleurs de lys upon a light blue ground. It is now however much in need of reparation. Fresh lilies and a new ground are absolutely necessary to harmonise with a large oil-painting at one end of it, in which is represented the reception of Louis XVI. at Rouen by the Mayor and Deputies of the town, in 1786. All the figures are of the size of life, well painted after the originals, and appear to be strong resemblances. On enquiring how many of them were now living, I was told that—ALL WERE DEAD! The fate of the principal figure is but too well known. They should have this interesting subject—interesting undoubtedly to the inhabitants—executed by one of their best engravers. It represents the unfortunate Louis quite in the prime of life; and is the best whole length portrait of him which I have yet seen in painting or in engraving.

It is right however that you should know, that, in the Tribunal for the determination of commercial causes, there sits a very respectable Bench of Judges: among whom I recognised one that had perfectly the figure, air, and countenance, of an Englishman. On enquiry of my guide, I found my supposition verified. He was an Englishman; but had been thirty years a resident in Rouen. The judicial costume is appropriate in every respect; but I could not help smiling, the other morning, upon meeting my friend the judge, standing before the door of his house, in the open street—with a hairy cap on—leisurely smoking his pipe—And wherein consisted the harm of such a delassement?

[61] [I apprehend this custom to be prevalent in fortified towns:—as Rouen formerly was—and as I found such custom to obtain at the present day, at Strasbourg. Mons. Licquet says that the allusion to the curfew—or couvre-feu—as appears in the previous edition—and which the reader well knows was established by the Conqueror with us—was no particular badge of the slavery of the English. It had been previously established by William in NORMANDY. Millot is referred to as the authority.]

[62] the famous JEANNE D'ARC.] Goube, in the second volume of his Histoire du Duche de Normandie, has devoted several spiritedly written pages to an account of the trial and execution of this heroine. Her history is pretty well known to the English—from earliest youth. Goube says that her mode of death had been completely prejudged; for that, previously to the sentence being passed, they began to erect "a scaffold of plaster, so raised, that the flames could not at first reach her—and she was in consequence consumed by a slow fire: her tortures being long and horrible." Hume has been rather too brief: but he judiciously observes that the conduct of the Duke of Bedford "was equally barbarous and dishonourable." Indeed it were difficult to pronounce which is entitled to the greatest abhorrence—the imbecility of Charles VII. the baseness of John of Luxembourg, or the treachery of the Regent Bedford?

The identical spot on which she suffered is not now visible, according to Millin; that place having been occupied by the late Marche des Veaux. It was however not half a stone's throw from the site of the present statue. In the Antiquites Nationales of the last mentioned author (vol. iii. art. xxxvi.) there are three plates connected with the History of JOAN of ARC. The first plate represents the Porte Bouvreuil to the left, and the circular old tower to the right—in which latter Joan was confined, with some houses before it; the middle ground is a complete representation of the rubbishing state by which many of the public buildings at Rouen are yet surrounded; and French taste has enlivened the foreground with a picture of a lover and his mistress, in a bocage, regaling themselves with a flagon of wine. The old circular tower ("qui vit gemir cette infortunee," says Millin) exists no longer. The second plate represents the fountain which was built in the market-place upon the very spot where the Maid suffered, and which spot was at first designated by the erection of a cross. From the style of the embellishments it appears to have been of the time of Francis I.

Goube has re-engraved this fountain. It was taken down or demolished in 1755; upon the site of which was built the present tasteless production—resembling, as the author of the Itineraire de Rouen (p. 69) well observes, "rather a Pallas than the heroine of Orleans." The name of the author was STODTS. Millin's third plate—of this present existing fountain, is desirable; in as much as it shews the front of the house, in the interior of which are the basso-rilievos of the Champ de drap d'Or: for an account of which see afterwards.

Millin allows that all PORTRAITS of her—whether in sculpture, or painting, or engraving—are purely IDEAL. Perhaps the nearest, in point of fidelity, was that which was seen in a painted glass window of the church of the Minimes at Chaillot: although the building was not erected till the time of Charles VIII. Yet it might have been a copy of some coeval production. In regard to oil paintings, I take it that the portrait of JUDITH, with a sword in one hand, and the head of Holofernes in the other, has been usually copied (with the omission of the latter accompaniment) as that of JEANNE D'ARC. I hardly know a more interesting collection of books than that which may be acquired respecting the fate of this equally brave and unfortunate heroine.

[63] Far be it from me to depreciate the labours of Montfaucon. But those who have not the means of getting at that learned antiquarian's Monarchie Francoise may possibly have an opportunity of examining precisely the same representations, of the procession above alluded to, in Ducarel's Anglo-Norman Antiquities, Plate XII. Till the year 1726 this extraordinary series of ornament was supposed to represent the Council of Trent; but the Abbe Noel, happening to find a salamander marked upon the back of one of the figures, supposed, with greater truth, that it was a representation of the abovementioned procession; and accordingly sent Montfaucon an account of the whole. The Abbe might have found more than one, two, or three salamanders, if he had looked closely into this extraordinary exterior; and possibly, in his time, the surfaces of the more delicate parts, especially of the human features, might not have sustained the injuries which time and accident now seem to have inflicted on them. [A beautiful effort in the graphic way representing the entire interior front of this interesting mansion, is said to be published at Rouen.]

[64] In the previous edition of this work, there appeared a facsimile of a small portion of this bas-relief, representing—as I imagine—the setting out of Francis to meet Henry. Nothing, as far as correctness of detail goes, can give a more faithful resemblance of the PRECISE STATE in which the original appears: the defaced and the entire parts being represented with equal fidelity. Mons. Langlois has given a plate of the entire facade or front—in outline—with great ability; but so small as to give little or no notion of the character of the original.

[65] In Ducarel's time, "the ground story consisted of a great quadrangle surrounded with booksellers shops. On one side of it a stone staircase led to a large and lofty room, which, in its internal as well as external appearance, resembled, though in miniature, Westminster Hall. Here (continues Ducarel) I saw several gentlemen of the long robe, in their gowns and bands, walking up and down with briefs in their hands, and making a great show of business." Anglo-Norman Antiquities, p. 32. [According to Mons. Licquet, this "singularly curious hall" was begun to be built in 1493. It was afterwards, and is still called, la Salle des Procureurs.]

[66] the choicest library] Monsieur Riaux, Archiviste de la Chambre de Commerce. This amiable man unites a love of literature with that of architectural antiquities. The library of M. Le Prevost is however as copious as that of Mons. R.



LETTER VII.

THE QUAYS. BRIDGE OF BOATS. RUE DU BAC. RUE DE ROBEC. EAUX DE ROBEC ET D'AUBETTE. MONT STE. CATHARINE. HOSPICES—GENERAL ET D'HUMANITE.

Still tarrying within this old fashioned place? I have indeed yet much to impart before I quit it, and which I have no scruple in avowing will be well deserving of your attention.

Just letting you know, in few words, that I have visited the famous chemical laboratory of M. Vitalis, (Rue Beauvoisine) and the yet more wonderful spectacle exhibited in M. Lemere's machine for sawing wood of all descriptions, into small or large planks, by means of water works—I must take you along THE QUAYS for a few minutes. These quays are flanked by an architectural front, which, were it finished agreeably to the original plan, would present us with one of the noblest structures in Europe. This stone front was begun in the reign of Louis XV. but many and prosperous must be the years of art, of commerce, and of peace, before money sufficient can be raised for the successful completion of the pile. The quays are long, broad, and full of bustle of every description; while in some of the contiguous squares, ponderous bales of goods, shawls, cloth, and linen, are spread open to catch the observing eye. In the midst of this varied and animated scene, walks a well-known character, in his large cocked hat, and with his tin machine upon his back, filled with lemonade or coffee, surmounted by a bell—which "ever and anon" is sounded for the sake of attracting customers. He is here copied to the life.



As you pass along this animated scene, by the side of the rapid Seine, and its Bridge of Boats, you cannot help glancing now and then down the narrow old-fashioned streets, which run at right angles with the quays—with the innumerable small tile-fashioned pieces of wood, like scales, upon the roofs—which seem as if they would be demolished by every blast. The narrowness and gloom of these streets, together with the bold and overwhelming projections of the upper stories and roofs, afford a striking contrast to the animated scene upon the quays:—where the sun shines with full freedom, as it were; and where the glittering streamers, at innumerable mast-heads, denote the wealth and prosperity of the town. If the day happen to be fine, you may devote half a morning in contemplating, and mingling with, so interesting a scene.

We have had frequent thunder-storms of late; and the other Sunday evening, happening to be sauntering at a considerable height above the north-west Boulevards, towards the Faubourg Cauchoise, I gained a summit, upon the edge of a gravel pit, whence I looked down unexpectedly and precipitously upon the town below. A magnificent and immense cloud was rolling over the whole city. The Seine was however visible on the other side of it, shining like a broad silver chord: while the barren, ascending plains, through which the road to Caen passes, were gradually becoming dusk with the overshadowing cloud, and drenched with rain which seemed to be rushing down in one immense torrent. The tops of the Cathedral and of the abbey of St. Ouen were almost veiled in darkness, by the passing storm; but the lower part of the tower, and the whole of the nave of each building, were in one stream of golden light—from the last powerful rays of the setting sun. In ten minutes this magically-varied scene settled into the sober, uniform tint of evening; but I can never forget the rich bed of purple and pink, fringed with burnished gold, in which the sun of that evening set! I descended—absorbed in the recollection of the lovely objects which I had just contemplated—and regaled by the sounds of a thousand little gurgling streamlets, created by the passing tempest, and hastening to precipitate themselves into the Seine.

Of the different trades, especially retail, which are carried on in Rouen with the greatest success, those connected with the cotton manufactories cannot fail to claim your attention; and I fancied I saw, in some of the shop-windows, shawls and gowns which might presume to vie with our Manchester and Norwich productions. Nevertheless, I learnt that the French were extremely partial to British manufactures: and cotton stockings, coloured muslins, and what are called ginghams, are coveted by them with the same fondness as we prize their cambric and their lace. Their best articles in watches, clocks, silver ornaments, and trinkets, are obtained from Paris. But in respect to upholstery, I must do the Rouennois the justice to say, that I never saw any thing to compare with their escrutoires and other articles of furniture made of the walnut tree. These upright escrutoires, or writing desks, are in almost every bed-room of the more respectable hotels: but of course their polish is gone when they become stationary furniture in an inn—for the art of rubbing, or what is called elbow-grease with us—is almost unknown on either side of the Seine. You would be charmed to have a fine specimen of a side board, or an escrutoire, (the latter five or six feet high) made by one of their best cabinet-makers from choice walnut wood. The polish and tone of colour are equally gratifying; and resemble somewhat that of rose wood, but of a gayer aspect. The or-molu ornaments are tastefully put on; but the general shape, or contour, of the several pieces of furniture, struck me as being in bad taste.

He who wishes to be astonished by the singularity of a scene, connected with trade, should walk leisurely down the RUE DE ROBEC. It is surely the oddest, and as some may think, the most repulsive scene imaginable: But who that has a rational curiosity could resist such a walk? Here live the dyers of clothes—and in the middle of the street rushes the precipitous stream, called L'Eau de Robec[67]—receiving colours of all hues. To-day it is nearly jet black: to-morrow it is bright scarlet: a third day it is blue, and a fourth day it is yellow! Meanwhile it is partially concealed by little bridges, communicating with the manufactories, or with that side of the street where the work-people live: and the whole has a dismal and disagreeable aspect—especially in dirty weather: but if you go to one end of it (I think to the east—as it runs east and west) and look down upon the descending street, with the overhanging upper stories and roofs—the foreshortened, numerous bridges—the differently-coloured dyed clothes, suspended from the windows, or from poles—the constant motion of men, women, and children, running across the bridges—with the rapid, camelion stream beneath—you cannot fail to acknowledge that this is one of the most singular, grotesque, and uncommon sights in the wonder-working city of Rouen. I ought to tell you that the first famous Cardinal d'Amboise (of whom the preceding pages have made such frequent honourable mention) caused the Eau de Robec to be directed through the streets of Rouen, from its original channel or source in a little valley near St. Martin du Vivien. Formerly there was a much more numerous clan of these "teinturiers" in the Rue de Robec—but they have of late sought more capacious premises in the fauxbourgs de St. Hilaire and de Martainville. The neighbouring sister-stream, l'Eau d'Aubette, is destined to the same purposes as that of which I have been just discoursing; but I do not at this moment recollect whether it be also dignified, in its course, by turning a few corn mills, ere it empties itself into the Seine. Indeed the thundering noise of one of these mills, turned by the Robec river, near the church of St. Maclou, will not be easily forgotten. Thus you see of what various, strange, and striking objects the city of Rouen is composed. Bustle, noise, life and activity, in the midst of an atmosphere unsullied by the fumes of sea coal:—hilarity and apparent contentment:—the spruce bourgeoise and the slattern fille de chambre:—attired in vestments of deep crimson and dark blue—every thing flits before you as if touched by magic, and as if sorrow and misfortune were unknown to the inhabitants.

"Paullo majora canamus." In other words, let us leave the Town for the Country. Let us hurry through a few more narrow and crowded alleys, courts, and streets—and as the morning is yet beautiful, let us hasten onwards to enjoy the famous Panorama of Rouen and its environs from the MONT STE. CATHARINE.... Indeed, my friend, I sincerely wish that you could have accompanied me to the summit of this enchanting eminence: but as you are far away, you must be content with a brief description of our little expedition thither.[68] The Mont Ste. Catharine, which is entirely chalk, is considered the highest of the hills in the immediate vicinity of Rouen; or rather, perhaps, is considered the point of elevation from which the city is to be viewed to the greatest possible advantage. It lies to the left of the Seine, in your way from the town; and the ascent begins considerably beyond the barriers. Indeed it is on the route to Paris. We took an excellent fiacre to carry us to the beginning of the ascent, that our legs might be in proper order for scrambling up the acclivities immediately above; and leaving the main road to the right, we soon commenced our ambulatory operations in good earnest. But there was not much labour or much difficulty: so, halting, or standing, or sitting, on each little eminence, our admiration seemed to encrease—till, gaining the highest point, looking towards the west, we found ourselves immediately above the town and the whole of its environs....

"Heavens, what a goodly prospect spread around!"

The prospect was indeed "goodly—" being varied, extensive, fertile, and luxuriant ... in spite of a comparatively backward spring. The city was the main object, not only of attraction, but of astonishment. Although the point from which we viewed it is considered to be exactly on a level with the summit of the spire of the Cathedral, yet we seemed to be hanging, as it were, in the air, immediately over the streets themselves. We saw each church, each public edifice, and almost each street; nay, we began to think we could discover almost every individual stirring in them. The soldiers, exercising on the parade in the Champ de Mars, seemed to be scarcely two stones' throw from us; while the sounds of their music reached us in the most distinct and gratifying manner. No "Diable boiteux" could ever have transported a "Don Cleophas Leandro Perez Zambullo" to a more favourable situation for a knowledge of what was passing in a city; and if the houses had been unroofed, we could have almost discerned whether the escrutoires were made of mahogany or walnut-wood! This wonder-working effect proceeds from the extraordinary clearness of the atmosphere, and the absence of sea-coal fume. The sky was perfectly blue—the generality of the roofs were also composed of blue slate: this, added to the incipient verdure of the boulevards, and the darker hues of the trunks of the trees, upon the surrounding hills—the lengthening forests to the left, and the numerous white "maisons de plaisance"[69] to the right—while the Seine, with its hundred vessels, immediately below, to the left, and in face of you—with its cultivated little islands—and the sweeping meadows or race-ground[70] on the other side—all, or indeed any, of these objects could not fail to excite our warmest admiration, and to make us instinctively exclaim "that such a panorama was perfectly unrivalled!"

We descended Mont Ste. Catharine on the side facing the Hospice General: a building of a very handsome form, and considerable dimensions. It is a noble establishment for foundlings, and the aged and infirm of both sexes. I was told that not fewer than twenty-five hundred human beings were sheltered in this asylum; a number, which equally astonished and delighted me. The descent, on this side the hill, is exceedingly pleasing; being composed of serpentine little walks, through occasional alleys of trees and shrubs, to the very base of the hill, not many hundred yards from the hospital. The architecture of this extensive building is more mixed than that of its neighbour the Hospice d'Humanite, on account of the different times in which portions of it were added: but, upon the whole, you are rather struck with its approach to what may be called magnificence of style. I was indeed pleased with the good order and even good breeding of its motley inhabitants. Some were strolling quietly, with their arms behind them, between rows of trees:—others were tranquilly sitting upon benches: a third group would be in motion within the squares of the building: a fourth appeared in deep consultation whether the potage of to day were not inferior to that of the preceding day?—"Que cherchez vous, Monsieur?" said a fine looking old man, touching, and half taking off, his cocked hat; "I wish to see the Abbe Turquier,"—rejoined I. "Ah, il vient de sortir—par ici, Monsieur." "Thank you." "Monsieur je vous souhaite le bon jour—au plaisir de vous revoir!" And thus I paced through the squares of this vast building. The "Portier" had a countenance which our Wilkie would have seized with avidity, and copied with inimitable spirit and fidelity.

[67] Bourgueville describes this river, in the sixteenth century, as being "aucune fois iaulne, autrefois rouge, verte, bleuee, violee & autres couleurs, selon qu'vn grand nombre de teinturiers qui sont dessus, la diuersifient par interualles en faisant leurs maneures." Antiquitez de Caen, p. 36.

[68] expedition thither.]—When John Evelyn visited this neighbourhood, in 1644, "the country so abounded with wolves, that a shepherd, whom he met, told him that one of his companions was strangled by one of them the day before—and that, in the midst of the flock! The fields (continues he) are mostly planted with pears and apples and other cider fruits. It is plentifully furnished with quarries of stone and slate, and hath iron in abundance." Memoirs of the Life and Writings of John Evelyn, vol. i. p. 50. Edit. 1818. My friend Mr. J. H. Markland visited Mont St. Catharine the year after the visit above described. He was of course enchanted with the view; and told me, that a friend whom he met there, and who had travelled pretty much in Italy, assured him there was nothing like it on the banks of either the Arno or the Po. In short, it is quite peculiar to itself—and cannot be surpassed.

[69] It is thus prettily observed in the little Itineraire de Rouen —"Ces agreables maisons de plaisance appartiennent a des habitants de Rouen qui y viennent en famille, dans la belle saison, se delasser des embarras de la ville et des fatigues du commerce." p. 153.

[70] race-ground]—When the English cavalry were quartered here in 1814-5, the officers were in the frequent habit of racing with each other. These races were gaily attended by the inhabitants; and I heard, from more than one mouth, the warmest commendations bestowed upon the fleetness of the coursers and the skill of the riders.



LETTER VIII.

EARLY TYPOGRAPHY AT ROUEN. MODERN PRINTERS. CHAP BOOKS. BOOKSELLERS. BOOK COLLECTORS.

Now for a little gossip and chit-chat about Paper, Ink, Books, Printing-Offices, and curiosities of a GRAPHIC description. Perhaps the most regular method would be to speak of a few of the principal Presses, before we take the productions of these presses into consideration. And first, as to the antiquity of printing in Rouen.[71] The art of printing is supposed to have been introduced here, by a citizen of the name of MAUFER, between the years 1470 and 1480. Some of the specimens of Rouen Missals and Breviaries, especially of those by MORIN, who was the second printer in this city, are very splendid. His device, which is not common, and rather striking, is here enclosed for your gratification.



Few provincial towns have been more fertile in typographical productions; and the reputation of TALLEUR, GUALTIER, and VALENTIN, gave great respectability to the press of Rouen at the commencement of the sixteenth century.

Yet I am not able to ascertain whether these presses were very fruitful in Romances, Chronicles, and Old Poetry. I rather think, however, that they were not deficient in this popular class of literature, if I am to judge from the specimens which are yet lingering, as it were, in the hands of the curious. The gravity even of an archiepiscopal see could never repress the natural love of the French, from time immemorial, for light and fanciful reading.

You know with what pertinacity I grope about old alleys, old courts, by-lanes, and unfrequented corners—in search of what is curious, or precious, or rare in the book way. But ere we touch that enchanting chord, let us proceed according to the plan laid down. First therefore for printing-offices. Of these, the names of PERIAUX, (Imprimeur de l'Academie,) BAUDRY, (Imprimeur du Roi) MEGARD, (Rue Martainville) and LECRENE-LABBEY, (Imprimeur-Libraire et Marchand de Papiers) are masters of the principal presses; but such is the influence of Paris, or of metropolitan fashions, that a publisher will sometimes prefer getting his work printed at the capital.[72] Of the foregoing printers, it behoves me to make some mention; and yet I can speak personally but of two: Messieurs Periaux and Megard. M. Periaux is printer to the Academie des Sciences, Belles-Lettres et Arts de Rouen, of which academy, indeed, he is himself an accomplished member. He is quick, intelligent, well-bred, and obliging to the last degree; and may be considered the Henry Stephen of the Rouen Printers. He urged me to call often: but I could visit him only twice. Each time I found him in his counting house, with his cap on—shading his eyes: a pen in his right hand, and a proof sheet in his left. Though he rejoiced at seeing me, I could discover (much to his praise) that, like Aldus, he wished me to "say my saying quickly,"[73] and to leave him to his deles and stets! He has a great run of business, and lives in one of those strange, old-fashioned houses, in the form of a square, with an outside spiral staircase, so common in this extraordinary city. He introduced me to his son, an intelligent young man—well qualified to take the labouring oar, either upon the temporary or permanent retirement of his parent.[74]

Of Monsieur MEGARD, who may be called the ancient Jenson, or the modern Bulmer, of Rouen, I can speak only in terms of praise—both as a civil gentleman and as a successful printer. He is doubtless the most elegant printer in this city; and being also a publisher, his business is very considerable. He makes his regular half yearly journeys among the neighbouring towns and villages, and as regularly brings home the fruits of his enterprise and industry. On my first visit, M. Megard was from home; but Madame, "son epouse, l'attendoit a chaque moment!" There is a particular class of women among the French, which may be said to be singularly distinguished for their intelligence, civility, and good breeding. I mean the wives of the more respectable tradesmen. Thus I found it, in addition to a hundred similar previous instances, with Madame Megard. "Mais Monsieur, je vous prie de vous asseoir. Que voulez vous?" "I wish to have a little conversation with your husband. I am an enthusiastic lover of the art of printing. I search every where for skilful printers, and thus it is that I come to pay my respects to Monsieur Megard." We both sat down and conversed together; and I found in Madame Megard a communicative, and well-instructed, representative of the said ancient Jenson, or modern Bulmer. "Enfin, voila mon mari qui arrive"—said Madame, turning round, upon the opening of the door:—when I looked forward, and observed a stout man, rather above the middle size, with a countenance perfectly English—but accoutred in the dress of the national guard, with a grenadier cap on his head. Madame saw my embarrassment: laughed: and in two minutes her husband knew the purport of my visit. He began by expressing his dislike of the military garb: but admitted the absolute necessity of adopting such a measure as that of embodying a national guard. "Soyez le bien venu; Ma foi, je ne suis que trop sensible, Monsieur, de l'honneur que vous me faites—vu que vous etes antiquaire typographique, et que vous avez publie des ouvrages relatifs a notre art. Mais ce n'est pas ici qu'il faut en chercher de belles epreuves. C'est a Paris."

I parried this delicate thrust by observing that I was well acquainted with the fine productions of Didot, and had also seen the less aspiring ones of himself; of which indeed I had reason to think his townsmen might be proud. This I spoke with the utmost sincerity. My first visit concluded with two elegant little book-presents, on the part of M. Megard—one being Heures de Rouen, a l'usage du Diocese, 1814, 12mo. and the other Etrennes nouvelles commodes et utiles; 1815, 12mo.—the former bound in green morocco; and the latter in calf, with gilt leaves, but printed on a sort of apricot-tinted paper—producing no unpleasing effect. Both are exceedingly well executed. My visits to M. Megard were rather frequent. He has a son at the College Royale, or Lycee, whither I accompanied him, one Sunday morning, and took the church of that establishment in the way. It is built entirely in the Italian style of architecture: is exceedingly spacious: has a fine organ, and is numerously attended. The pictures I saw in it, although by no means of first-rate merit, quite convince me that it is in churches of Roman, and not of Gothic architecture, that paintings produce the most harmonious effect. This college and church form a noble establishment, situated in one of the most commanding eminences of the town. From some parts of it, the flying buttresses of the nave of the Abbey of St. Ouen, with the Seine at a short distance, surmounted by the hills and woods of Canteleu as a back ground, are seen in the most gloriously picturesque manner.

But the printer who does the most business—or rather whose business lies in the lower department of the art, in bringing forth what are called chap books—is LECRENE-LABBEY—imprimeur-libraire et marchand de papiers. The very title imports a sort of Dan Newberry's repository. I believe however that Lecrene-Labbey's business is much diminished. He once lived in the Rue de la Grosse-Horloge, No. 12: but at present carries on trade in one of the out-skirting streets of the town. I was told that the premises he now occupies were once an old church or monastery, and that a thousand fluttering sheets are now suspended, where formerly was seen the solemn procession of silken banners, with religious emblems, emblazoned in colours of all hues. I called at the old shop, and supplied myself with a dingy copy of the Catalogue de la Bibliotheque Bleue—from which catalogue however I could purchase but little; as the greater part of the old books, several of the Caxtonian stamp, had taken their departures. It was from this Catalogue that I learnt the precise character of the works destined for common reading; and from hence inferred, what I stated to you a little time ago, that Romances, Rondelays, and chivalrous stories, are yet read with pleasure by the good people of France. It is, in short, from this lower, or lowest species of literature—if it must be so designated—that we gather the real genius, or mental character of the ordinary classes of society. I do assure you that some of these chap publications are singularly droll and curious. Even the very rudiments of learning, or the mere alphabet-book, meets the eye in a very imposing manner—as in the following facsimile.



Love, Marriage, and Confession, are fertile themes in these little farthing chap books. Yonder sits a fille de chambre, after her work is done. She is intent upon some little manual, taken from the Bibliotheque Bleue. Approach her, and ask her for a sight of it. She smiles, and readily shews you Catechisme a l'usage des Grandes Filles pour etre Mariees; ensemble la maniere d'attirer les Amans. At the first glance of it, you suppose that this is entirely, from beginning to end, a wild and probably somewhat indecorous manual of instruction. By no means; for read the Litanies and Prayer with which it concludes, and which I here send; admitting that they exhibit a strange mixture of the simple and the serious.

LITANIES.

Pour toutes les Filles qui desirent entrer en menage.

Kyrie, je voudrois, Christe, etre mariee. Kyrie, je prie tous les Saints, Christe, que ce soin demain. Sainte Marie, tout le Monde se marie. Saint Joseph, que vous ai-je fait? Saint Nicolas, ne m'oubliez pas. Saint Mederie, que j'aie un bon mari. Saint Matthieu, qu'il craigne Dieu. Saint Jean, qu'il m'aime tendrement. Saint Bruno, qu'il soit juli & beau. Saint Francois, qu'il me soit fidele. Saint Andre, qu'il soit a mon gre. Saint Didier, qu'il aime a travailler. Saint Honore, qu'il n'aime pas a jouer. Saint Severin, qu'il n'aime pas le vin. Saint Clement, qu'il soit diligent. Saint Sauveur, qu'il ait bon coeur. Saint Nicaise, que je sois a mon aise. Saint Josse, qu'il me donne un carrosse. Saint Boniface, que mon mariage se fasse, Saint Augustin, des demain matin.

ORAISON.

Seigneur, qui avez forme Adam de la terre, et qui lui avez donne Eve pour sa compagne; envoyez-moi, s'il vous plait, un bon mari pour compagnon, non pour la volupte, mais pour vous honorer & avoir des enfants qui vous benissent. Ainsi soit il.

Among the books of this class, before alluded to, I purchased a singularly amusing little manual called "La Confession de la Bonne Femme." It is really not divested of merit. Whether however it may not have been written during the Revolution, with a view to ridicule the practice of auricular confession which yet obtains throughout France, I cannot take upon me to pronounce; but there are undoubtedly some portions of it which seem so obviously to satirise this practice, that one can hardly help drawing a conclusion in the affirmative. On the other hand it may perhaps be inferred, with greater probability, that it is intended to shew with what extreme facility a system of self-deception may be maintained.[75] Referring however to the little manual in question, among the various choice morceaus which it contains, take the following extracts: exemplificatory of a woman's evading the main points of confession.

Confesseur. Ne voulez vous pas me repondre; en un mot, combien y a-t-il de temps que vous ne vous etes confessee?

La Penitente. Il y a un mois tout juste, car c'etoit le quatrieme jour du mois passe, & nous sommes au cinquieme du mois courant; or comptez, mon pere, & vous trouverez justement que ...

C. C'est assez, ne parlez point tant, & dites moi en peu de mots vos peches.

Elle raconte les peches d'autrui.

La Penitente. J'ai un enfant qui est le plus mechant garcon que vous ayez jamais vu: il jure, bat sa soeur, il fuit l'ecole, derobe tout ce qu'il peut pour jouer; il suit de mechans fripons: l'autre jour en courant il perdit son chapeau. Enfin, c'est un mechant garcon, je veux vous l'amener afin que vous me l'endoctriniez un peu s'il vous plait.

C. Dites-moi vos peches.

P. Mais, mon pere, j'ai une fille qui est encore pire. Je ne la peux faire lever le matin: Je l'appelle cent fois: Marguerite: plait-il ma Mere? leve-toi promptement et descends: j'y vais. Elle ne bouge pas. Si tu ne viens maintenant, tu seras battue. Elle s'en moque. Quand je l'envoie a la Ville, je lui dis reviens promptement, ne t'amuse pas. Cependant, elle s'arrete a toutes les portes comme l'ane d'un meunier, elle babille avec tous ceux qu'elle rencontre; & quand elle me fait cela, je la bats: ne fais-je pas bien, mon pere?

C. Dites-moi vos peches et non pas ceux de vos enfans.

P. Il se trouve, mon pere, que nous avons dans notre rue une voisine qui est la plus mechante de toutes les femmes: elle jure, elle querelle tous ceux qui passent, personne ne la peut souffrir, ni son mari, ni ses enfans, & bien souvent elle s'enivre, & vous me dites, mon pere, quelle est celle-la? c'est ...

C. Ah gardez-vous bien de la nommer; car a la confession il ne faut jamais fair connoitre les personnes dont vous declarez les peches.

P. C'est elle qui vient se confesser apres moi: grondez-la bien, car vous ne lui en sauriez trop dire.

C. Taisez-vous donc, & ne parlez que de vos peches, non pas de ceux des autres.

Elle s'accuse de ce qui n'est point peche.

Penitente.—Ah! mon pere, j'ai fait un grand peche, ah! le grand peche! Helas je serai damnee, quoique mon confesseur m'ait defendu de le dire j'amais, neanmoins mon pere je vais vous le declarer.

C. Ne le dites point, puisque votre confesseur vous l'a defendu, je ne veux point l'entendre.

P. Ah! n'importe; je veux vous le dire, c'est un trop grand peche: J'ai battu ma mere.

C. Vous avez battu votre mere! Ah! miserable, c'est un cas reserve & un crime qui merite la potence. Et quand l'avez-vous battue?

P. Quand j'etois petite de l'age de quatre ans.

C. Ah! simple, ne savez-vous pas que tout ce que les enfans font avant l'age de raison, qui est environ l'age de sept ans, ne sauroit etre un peche.

There is however one thing, which I must frankly declare to you as entitled to distinct notice and especial commendation. It is, the method of teaching "catechisms" of a different and higher order: I mean the CHURCH CATECHISMS. Both the Cathedral and the Abbey of St. Ouen have numerous side chapels. Within these side chapels are collected, on stated days of the week, the young of both sexes. They are arranged in a circle. A priest, in his white robes, is seated, or stands, in the centre of them. He examines, questions, corrects, or commends, as the opportunity calls for it. His manner is winning and persuasive. His action is admirable. The lads shew him great respect, and are rarely rude, or seen to laugh. Those who answer well, and pay the greater attention, receive, with words of commendation, gentle pats upon the head—and I could not but consider the blush, with which this mark of favour was usually received, as so many presages of future excellence in the youth. I once witnessed a most determined catechetical lecture of girls; who might be called, in the language of their matrimonial catechism, "de grandes filles." It was on an evening, in the Chapel of Our Lady in St. Ouen's Abbey, that this examination took place. Two elderly priests attended. The responses of the females were as quick as they were correct; the eye being always invariably fixed on the pavement, accompanied with a gravity and even piety of expression. A large group of mothers, with numerous spectators, were in attendance. A question was put, to which a supposed incorrect response was given. It was repeated, and the same answer followed. The priest hesitated: something like vexation was kindling in his cheek, while the utmost calmness and confidence seemed to mark the countenance of the examinant. The attendant mothers were struck with surprise. A silence for one minute ensued. The question related to the "Holy Spirit." The priest gently approached the girl, and softly articulated—"Mais, ma chere considerez un peu,"—and repeated the question. "Mon pere, (yet more softly, rejoined the pupil) j'ai bien consideree, et je crois que c'est comme je vous l'ai deja dit." The Priest crossed his hands upon his breast ... brought down his eyebrows in a thoughtful mood ... and turning quickly round to the girl, addressed her in the most affectionate tone of voice—"Ma petite,—tu as bien dit; et j'avois tort." The conduct of the girl was admirable: She curtsied, blushed... and with eyes, from which tears seemed ready to start, surveyed the circle of spectators ... caught the approving glance of her mother, and sunk triumphantly upon her chair—with the united admiration of teachers, companions, parents and spectators! The whole was conducted with the most perfect propriety; and the pastors did not withdraw till they were fairly exhausted. A love of truth obliges me to confess that this reciprocity of zeal, on the part of master and pupil, is equally creditable to both parties; and especially serviceable to the cause of religion and morality.