“C’est un embarras étrange,Qu’un grand carrosse dans la fange,C’est presque un village roulant....”
“C’est un embarras étrange,Qu’un grand carrosse dans la fange,C’est presque un village roulant....”
enlarge-imageBERLINE de POSTE.
Under Louis XV. thecarrossebecame lighter and the chaise on two wheels came in. Then followedcabriolets,berlines, and theposte-chaise, and finally themalle-posteand thediligence.
The most familiar of all, to those of a few generations ago, and to readers of travel literature, is thediligence.
These great carriages apparently had a most respectable lease of life, many having been inservice for a great many years. To-day they have mostly disappeared, and in Normandy and Brittany practically exist not at all, so far as the tourist traveller is concerned, though once and again they may be useful on a cross-country road in order to connect with the railroad.
It was only as late as 1760, however, that a public service of these diligences was established. At that time the coaches left Paris on stated days and travelled with unwonted regularity. The diligence to Rennes, in the heart of Bretagne, was timed for four days’ travelling, and five days was employed for the journey to the old Breton capital of Nantes, on the Loire.
These great carriages, commonly known as “Royales,” were hung on springs and drawn by eight horses. They did not travel as quickly as themalle-poste, but their rates were somewhat less, and they performed the common service before the advent of steam and the rail.
There was nothing very luxurious or grand about them, but they were majestic and picturesque, and they sometimes carried a load, including passengers and luggage, of five thousand kilos.
Closely allied with roads is the general topography of a country as shown by its maps.
No country has such a marvellous series ofmaps of its soil as has France. The maps of the Minister of the Interior and theEtat Majorare wonders of the art, and no traveller in Normandy or Brittany, or indeed any other part of France, should be without them. They are obtainable at any bookseller’s in a large town, and the prices are remarkably low; ranging from thirty centimes a sheet for the map of theEtat Major, printed only in black, to eighty centimes a sheet for the map of the Minister of the Interior, printed in colours.
The following conventional signs will show the extreme practicability of the maps of theEtat Major, which are made on four different scales, the most useful being that of 1-80,000. The maps of the Minister of the Interior are made only on the scale of 1-100,000.
Now and then on these great highroads of France, of which those of Normandy and Brittany are representative, one passes a headquarters or a barracks of thegendarmerie, those servitors of the law, the national police, an organization which grew up out of the men-at-arms orgens d’armesof Charles VII.
These great barracks are veritable monasteries, where the religion of faithful duty to the public and the nation reigns supreme. One never passes one of these impressive establishmentswithout a full appreciation of the motto of the knightly Bayard, so frequently graven over their doors: “Sans peur et sans reproche.”
enlarge-imageExplanation of the Maps of the Etat Major
The Assembly, in 1790, first instituted thisalmost perfectly organized police force, and Napoleon himself thought so highly of them that he wrote to Berthier in 1812: “Take not the police with you, but conserve them for the guarding of the country-side. Two or three hundred soldiers are as nothing, but two or three hundred police will assure the tranquillity and good order of the people at large.”
To-day, in times of peace, twenty-seven legions of police assure the security of the country-side; an effective force of about twenty-five thousand men and 725 officers, of whom a comparative few only are mounted.
A colonel or a lieutenant-colonel is placed at the head of a legion, a company being allotted to each department. The company is commanded by a major; then comes the district, placed under the orders of a captain or a lieutenant; the section, commanded by a junior officer; and finally a squad with a non-commissioned officer or corporal at its head.
Independent of crime and its details, the police are responsible as well for the maintenance of order in general.
The pay for all this, it is to be regretfully noted, is not at all commensurate. An unmounted policeman receives but 2fr.81c.per day, and if he is mounted but 3fr.23c.per day.
THEforests of France are a source of never-ending interest and pride to the Frenchman, of whatever station in life.
They are admirably preserved and cared for, and a paternal ministerial department guards them as jealously as a fond mother guards her children.
No cutting of trees is allowed, except according to a prescribed plan; and, when a new road is cut through,—and those superlative roadways of France run straight as the crow flies through many of the finest forest tracts,—as likely as not an old one is replanted.
The process of replanting goes on from day to day, and one sees no depleted forests of a former time, which are to-day a graveyard of bare stumps.
If there is any regulation as to tree-planting in these great forests, it would seem, to a casual observer, to be that where one tree has grown before two are to be made grow in its place.
There is a popular regard among all travellers in France for Fontainebleau, Versailles, and perhaps Chantilly, but there are other tree-grown areas, quite as charming, little known to the general traveller: Rambouillet, for instance, and Villers-Cotterets, of which Dumas writes so graphically in “The Wolf Leader.”
Normandy has more than its share of these splendid forests, some of them of great extent and charm. Indeed, the forest domain of Lyons, in Upper Normandy, one of the most extensive in all France, is literally covered with great beeches and oaks, surrounding small towns and hamlets, and an occasional ruined château or abbey, which makes a sojourn within its confines most enjoyable to all lovers of outdoor life.
Surrounding the old Norman capital of Rouen are five great tracts which serve the inhabitants of that now great commercial city as a summer playground greatly appreciated.
Game of various sorts still exists; deer in plenty, apparently, together with smaller kinds; and now and then one will hear tales of bears, which are, however, almost unbelievable.
In some regions—the forests of Louviers, for instance—the wild boar still exists. The chase for the wild boar, with the huntsmen followingsomewhat after the old custom (with a horn-blower, who is most theatrical in his get-up, and his followers, armed with lances and pikes in quite old-time fashion), is, as may be imagined, a most novel sight.
The forests of Roumare and Mauny, occupying the two peninsulas formed by the winding Seine just below Rouen, are remarkable, and are like nothing else except the other forests in France.
There are fine roadways crossing and recrossing in all directions, beautifully graded, with overhanging oaks and beeches, and as well kept as a city boulevard.
Deer are still abundant, and the whole impression which one receives is that of a genuine wildwood, and not an artificial preserve.
In the picturesque forest of Roumare is hidden away the tiny village of Genetey, which has for an attraction, besides its own delightful situation, an ancientMaison de Templiersof the thirteenth century, a well of great depth, and a chapel to St. Gargon, of the sixteenth century, built in wood, with some fine sculptures and paintings, which was at one time a favourite place for pious pilgrims from Rouen.
Not far away is Henouville, with a sixteenth-century church, lighted by five great windowsof extraordinary proportions. The choir encloses the remains of Legendre, the almoner of Louis XIII., who was curé of Henouville, and whose fame as a horticulturist was as great as that brought him by his official position.
The near-by Château du Belley and its domain is now turned into a farm.
La Fontaine, a hamlet situated directly on the Seine bank, is overshadowed by a series of high rocks of most fantastic form, known as the chair, or pulpit, of Gargantua.
The forest of La Londe, of 2,154 hectares, on the opposite bank of the Seine from Rouen, is a remarkable tract of woodland, its oaks and beeches quite reminiscent of Fontainebleau. The trees as a whole are the most ancient and grand of those of any of the forests of Normandy. Two which have been given names are known respectively asBel-Arsène, a magnificent beech of eleven great branches, planted in 1773, and theChêne de la Côte Rôtie, supposed to have the ripe old age of 450 years; and it looks its age.
The forest of Londe is what the French geographer would describe aspittoresque et accidentée. It is all this would lead one to infer; and, together with the forest of the Rouvray,exceeds any other in Normandy, except the forest domain of Lyons.
At the crossing of the Grésil road is theChêne-à-la-Bosse, having a circumference of three and a half metres; and, near by, one sees theHêtre-à-l’Image, a great beech of fantastic form.
Amid a savage and entirely unspoiled grandeur is a series of caves and grottoes, of themselves of no great interest, but delightfully environed.
Near Elbeuf, on the edge of the forest of Londe, are theRoches d’Orival, a series of rock-cut grottoes and caverns,—a little known spot to the majority of travellers in the Seine valley. Practically the formation begins at Elbeuf itself, onward toward Rouen, by the route which follows the highroad to the Norman capital viaGrand Couronne. At Port du Gravier, on the bank of the Seine, is a sixteenth-century chapel cut in the rock, like its brethren or sisters at St. Adrien on the opposite bank, and at Haute Isle, just above Vernon.
AtRoche-Foulonare numerous rock-caverns still inhabited, and at theRoche du Pignonbegins a series of curiously weathered and crumbled rocks, most weird and bizarre.
On a neighbouring hill are the ruins of ChâteauFouet, another of those many riverside fortresses attributed to Richard Cœur de Lion.
The forest domain of Lyons is the finest beech-wood in all France, and its 10,614 hectares (rather more than thirty thousand acres) was in the middle ages the favourite hunting-ground of the Dukes of Normandy. It is the most ample of all the forests of Normandy.
There are at least three trips which forest-lovers should take if they come to the charming little woodland village of Lyons-le-Forêt. It will take quite two days to cover them, and the general tourist may not have sufficient time to spare. Still, if he is so inclined, and wants to know what a really magnificent French forest is like to-day, before it has become spoiled and overrun (as is Fontainebleau), this is the place to enjoy it to the full.
The old Château of Lyons, and the tiny hamlets of Taisniers, Hogues, Héron, and the feudal ruins of Malvoisine, are a great source of pleasure to those who have become jaded with the rush of cities and towns.
The château of the Marquis de Pommereu d’Aligré, in the valley of the Héron, can be seen and visited, or rather the park may be (the park and château together are only thrown open tothe public on thefête patronale—the first Sunday of September). Croissy-sur-Andelle is another forest village, and the Val St. Pierre, a sort of dry river-bed carpeted with a thick undergrowth, is quite as fine as anything of the kind at Fontainebleau.
At Petit Val is a magnificent beech five and a half metres in circumference, and supposed to be four hundred years old.
At Le Tronquay there is a great school, over whose entrance doorway one reads on a plaque that it is—
“Commemorative de la délivrance des paroissiens du Tronquay admis à porter la fierté de St. Romain de Rouen, le 5 mai, jour de l’ascencion, de l’anne 1644.”
At the end of a double row of great firs, lie the ruins of the Château de Richbourg, built by Charles IX.
La Fenille is a small market-town, quite within the forest, where one may get luncheon for the modest price of two francs, cider and coffee included, if he wanders so far from Lyons-le-Forêt as this.
enlarge-imageLyons-le-ForêtLyons-le-Forêt
Lyons-le-Forêt
Here there are the remains of some of the dungeons and the brick walls of a château built by Philippe-le-Bel. The tiny church dates from1293, and in the cemetery is a sculptured cross of the time of Henri IV.
In the canton of Catelier are found the most remarkable trees of the whole forest. One great trunk alone, which was recently cut down, gave over thirtystèresof wood; which means nothing as a mere statement, but which looked, as it was piled by the roadside, to be a mass of timber great enough to fill the hold of a ship.
At the source of the Levrière, a limpid forest stream, is the manor-house of the Fontaine du Houx, of the sixteenth century, belonging to a M. Hebert. If one is diplomatic he may get permission to enter to view the bedroom of Agnes Sorel, that royal favourite of other days whose reputation is a bit higher than those of some of her contemporaries.
The doorkeeper will gladly accept a tip, so the visitor need have no hesitancy in making the demand, though he will have to choose his words.
The old manor is a fine representative of a mediæval house, surrounded by a great moat and garnished with a series of turrets. The chief features, outside of the apartment in which slept the gentle Agnes, are a fine staircase, a tower with a drawbridge over the moat, and, in the vestibule, a fine tapestry from the Château de la Haie.
The Château de Fleury, at Fleury la Forêt, is a fine structure, dating from 1645, and at Croix-Mesnil is the Château Louis XIII., which formed the dwelling of the grand master of rivers and forests in that monarch’s time.
By no means are these all of the interesting attractions of this great national forest, but it ought to be sufficient to inspire the true forest-lover to seek out other beauties for himself.
The road of theGros Chêne, called also the “Chêne de la Londe,” and “l’Homme Mort,” and aged perhaps four hundred years, leads to the Carrefour des Quatre Cantons, near which is the Chapelle Ste. Catherine; a famous place of pilgrimage where, according to popular belief, any young girl who brings a bouquet to the shrine, and says a mass, is assured of marrying within a year. After this there is another act of devotion to be gone through—or is it a superstition in this case? She must bring thither the pins from her marriage veil.
The Abbey of Mortemer, founded in 1134 by the monks of the order of Citeux, is another architectural monument with a remarkably picturesque woodland site. The living-rooms (seventeenth century) have been restored, but the church, of three centuries before, is quite in a ruinous condition, though a great open-endedtransept remains, as well as a fine rose window and some of the beautifully arched walls of the old cloister.
enlarge-imageChapelle Ste. CatherineChapelle Ste. Catherine
Chapelle Ste. Catherine
The Ferme des Fiefs, and the Château deRosay, situated in a charming park, where the Lieure falls in a series of tiny cascades, about completes the list of the forest’s attractions; but its hidden beauties and yet undiscovered charms are many.
Perhaps some day the forest domain of Lyons will have an artist colony, or a number of them, such as are found in the encircling villages of the forest of Fontainebleau, but at present there are none, though it is belief of the writer that the aspect of nature unspoiled is far better here than at the more popular Fontainebleau.
enlarge-imageenlarge-imageMap of Normandy
TOthose upon whom has fallen the desire to travel amid historic sights and scenes, no part of France offers so much that is so accessible, so economically covered, or as interesting as the coasts and plains and river valleys of Normandy.
If possible they should lay out their journey beforehand, and if time presses make a tour that shall comprise some one distinct region only; as the Seine valley from Havre to La Roche-Guyon; the coast from Tréport to Caen, or even Granville, or Mont St. Michel; or following a line which runs more inland from Rouen by Lisieux, Falaise, and the valley of the Orne, to the famous Mont on the border of Brittany. They may indeed combine this last with a little tour which should take in the north Breton coast and even cross to the Channel Isles; but if it is the Normandy coast or the Norman country-side of the Seine valley which they desireto know fully, and if time be limited, they should confine themselves to either one route or the other.
Normandy divides itself topographically into the three itineraries mentioned: “The Coast,” “The Seine Valley,” and the “Inland Route.” They may be combined readily enough, or they may be taken separately; but to nibble a bit at one, a little at another, and still less at a third, and then rush on to Paris and its distractions, or to some seaside place where brass bands and a casino form the principal attractions, is not the way to have an intimate, personal, and wholly delightful experience of “la belle Normandie.”
A skeleton plan of each of these itineraries will be found, and further details of a practical nature also, elsewhere in this book.
One’s expenses may be what they will. By rail, twelve to fifteen francs a day will amply pay the bill, and by road, on bicycle or automobile, they can be made to approximate as much or as little as one’s tastes demand; nor will the quality of the accommodation and fare vary to an appreciable degree in either case. Even the automobilist with his sixty-horse Mercédes, while he may be suspected of being a millionaire American or an English lord, willnot necessarily be adjudged so, and will be charged according to the tariff of the “Touring Club,” or other organization of which he may be a member. If he demands superior accommodation, a sitting-room as well as a bedroom, or a fire and a hot bath, he will pay extra for that, as well as for thevin supérieurwhich he may wish instead of theordinaireof the table d’hôte, or thecaféwhich he drinks after his meal.
The old simile still holds good. The franc in France will usually purchase the value of a shilling in England. There is not much difference with respect to one shilling; but an appalling sum in a land of cheap travel, when one has let a thousand of them pass through his hands.
The leading hotels of the great towns and cities of Rouen, Havre, and Cherbourg rise almost to the height of the charges of those of the French capital itself; and those of Trouville-Deauville or Dieppe to perhaps even higher proportions, if one requires the best accommodation. The true peripatetic philosopher, however, will have naught to do with these, but will seek out for himself—unless some one posts him beforehand—such humble, though excellent inns as the “Trois Marchands,” or the “Mouton d’Argent.”
These are the real hotels of the country, where one lives bountifully for six to eight francs a day, and eats at the table d’hôte with an informative commercial traveller, or a keenly mindful small landholder of the country-side, who, if it is market-day, will as like as not be dressed in a black blouse.
One criticism may justly be made of many of the hotels in Normandy, though mostly this refers only to such tourist establishments as one finds at Dieppe or Trouville. It is that the table wine is often charged for at two francs a bottle, while it ought to be served without extra charge, and is elsewhere in France. In many commercial hotels this is not the custom, but too frequently it is so, and, considering that thehôteliersof Normandy buy their wine in a much more favourable market, by reason of its cheap transport by sea, than their brethren of Lozère or the Cantal, where wine is never thought of as an extra, it seems somewhat of an imposition to one who knows his France well.
The beef and mutton of Normandy is of most excellent quality, coming from fine animals who are only used if they are in the best condition.
This statement is made with a knowledge based upon some years’ residence, to allay theall too prevalent opinion that French meat is of inferior quality, and is only palatable because well disguised in the cooking. This is a fetish which ought long ago to have been burned. The fish one gets in Normandy is always fresh and remarkably varied, as well as the shell-fish (crevettes, meaning usually shrimp or prawns). The oysters are of course famous, for no one ever heard of a Courseulles bivalve which had typhoid tendencies.
The railway has proved a great civilizer in France, and everywhere is found a system of communicating lines which are almost perfect.
The great artery of the Western Railroad reaches out through all Normandy and Brittany, and its trunk lines to Dieppe, Havre, Cherbourg, and Brest leave nothing to be desired in the way of appointments and expedition.
The only objection, that the economical traveller can justify, is that second and third class tickets are often not accepted for distances under a hundred or a hundred and fifty kilometres; and, accordingly, he is forced to wait the accommodation train, which, truth to tell, is not even a little brother of the express-train. If it is any relation at all, it is a stepchild merely.
At all events, the railway service throughoutFrance is well systematized and efficient, and Ruskin’s diatribe against railways in general was most unholy. Lest it may have been forgotten, as many of his ramblings have, and should be, it is repeated here. “Railways are to me the loathsomest form of devilry now extant, animated and deliberate earthquakes” (we know what he thought of bicycles, and we wonder with fear what may have been his strictures on the automobile had he lived a few years longer), “destructive of all wise, social habits and possible natural beauty, carriages of damned souls on the ridges of their own graves.” This, from a prophet and a seer, makes one thank Heaven the tribewasblind.
Travel by rail is a simple and convenient process in Normandy, as indeed it is in all France. There is no missing of trains at lonesome junctions, and the time-tables are admirably and lucidly planned.
In the larger towns all the stations have a bureau of information which will smooth the way for the traveller if he will not take it upon himself to consult that almost perfect series of railway time-tables found in every café and hotel throughout France. He registers his baggage and gets a receipt for it, like the “checks” of the American railways, by paying two sous;or he may send it by express (not by freight, for there is too little difference in price), or as unaccompanied baggage, which will ensure its being forwarded by the first passenger-train, and at a most reasonable charge.
The economical way of travelling in France, and Normandy in particular, is third class; and the carriages, while bare and hard-seated, are thoroughly warmed in winter, and are as clean as those of their kind anywhere; perhaps more so than in England and America, where the stuffy cushions harbour much dirt and other objectionable things.
Second class very nearly approaches the first class in point of price, and is very nearly as luxurious; while first class itself carries with it comparative exclusiveness at proportionately high charges.
More important, to the earnest and conscientious traveller, is the fact that often, for short distances between near-by places, a convenient train will be found not to carry third-class passengers; and to other places, a little less widely separated, not even second class; although third and second class passengers are carried by the same train for longer distances. This is about the only inconvenience one suffers from French railways, and makes necessary acareful survey of the time-table, where the idiosyncrasies of individual trains are clearly marked.
Excursion trains of whatever class are decidedly to be avoided. They depart and return from Paris, Trouville, Dieppe, or some other popular terminus at most inconveniently uncomfortable hours, and are invariably overcrowded and not especially cheap.
The attractions of Normandy for the traveller are so many and varied that it would be practically impossible to embrace them all in any one itinerary without extending its limit of time beyond that at the disposal of most travellers.
From Tréport, on the borders of Picardy, to Arromanches, near Bayeux, is an almost uninterrupted line of little and big seashore towns whose chief industry consists of catering to summer visitors.
From Arromanches to Mont St. Michel, the seaside resorts are not so crowded, and are therefore the more enjoyable, unless one demands the distractions of great hotels, golf-links, and tea-rooms.
In the Seine valley, beginning with La Roche-Guyon, on the borders of the ancient royal domain, down to the mouth of the mighty riverat Havre, is one continuous panorama of delightful large and small towns, not nearly so well known as one might suppose. Vernon with its tree-bordered quays; Giverny, and its artists colony; Les Andelys with their “saucy castle” built by Richard Cœur de Lion; Pont de l’Arche with the florid Gothic church dedicated to Our Lady of the Arts; the riverside resorts above Rouen; Elbeuf with its busy factories, but picturesque and historic withal; Rouen, the ancient Norman capital; La Bouille-Molineux; the great abbeys of Jumièges, St. Wandrille and St. Georges de Boscherville; Caudebec-en-Caux; Lillebonne; Harfleur; Honfleur, and Havre form a compelling array of sights and scenes which are quite irresistible.
On the northeastern coast are Etretat, famed of artists of generations ago; Fécamp with the associations of its ancient abbey; Dieppe; the Petites Dalles; St. Valery-en-Caux; Eu with its château; and Tréport and its attendant little seashore villages.
Inland, and southward, through the Pays-de-Caux, are Lyons-le-Forêt, which, as its name bespeaks, is a little forest-surrounded town, quite unworldly, and eight kilometres from a railway; Gournay; Forges-les-Eaux, a decayed seaport town; Gisors; and the charminglittle villages of the valleys of the Andelle and the Ept.
Follow up the Eure from its juncture with the Seine at the Pont de l’Arche, and one enters quite another region, quite different from that on the other side of the Seine.
The chief towns are Louviers, a busy cloth-manufacturing centre with an art treasure of the first rank in its beautifully flamboyant church; and Evreux with its bizarre cathedral, headquarters of the Department of the Eure; while northward and westward, by Conches and Beaumont-le-Roger to Caen and Bayeux, lies a wonderful country of picturesque and historic towns, such as Lisieux; Bernay, famous for its horse-fair; Falaise, the birthplace of William the Conqueror; and Dives, where he set sail for England’s shores,—names which will awaken memories of the past in a most vivid fashion.
Westward of the valley of the Orne lies the Cotentin, with the cathedral towns of Avranches, Coutances, and St. Lô, and Mont St. Michel, which of itself is a sort of boundary stone between Normandy and Brittany.
The monumental curiosities of the province and the natural attractions are all noted in the plans which are here given; and from them,and this descriptive outline, one should be able to map out for himself a tour most suitable to correspond to his inclinations.
There is this much to say of Normandy, in addition: it is the most abundantly supplied of all the ancient French provinces with artistic and natural sights and curiosities, and above all is compact and accessible.
There is one real regret that will strike one with regard to the journeyings in the valley of the Seine. There is no way of making the trip by water above Rouen. From Havre to Rouen, one may journey in a day on a little steamer, a most enjoyable trip; and at Rouen one finds the little “fly-boats,”—reminiscent of thebateaux mouchesof Paris,—which will take one for a half a dozen miles in either direction for astonishingly low fares.
Pont de l’Arche, however, and Muids, and that most picturesquely situated of all northern French towns, Les Andelys, onward to Tosny, and still up-river, by Port Mort to Vernon, there is no communication by water for the passenger, though the great barges and canal-boats pass and repass a given point scores of times in a day, carrying coal, wine, cotton, and other merchandise, through the very finest scenery of the Seine.
A few words on the French language are inevitable with every author of a book of French travel, and so they are given here. There is a current idea that English is the language for making one’s way about. Try it in Normandy or Brittany, in the average automobile garage, the post-office, or the railway station, or on the custodian of some great church or château, and you will prove its fallacy.
At Rouen, Havre, or Dieppe, and at the great tourist hotels it is different; but in the open country seldom, if ever, will you come across one who can speak or understand a single word of English; save an occasionalchauffeurwho may have seen service on some titled person’s motor-car in England, and knows “all right,” “pretty soon,” and “go ahead” to perfection.
The writer notes two exceptions. Doubtless there may be others.
At the quaint little Seine-side town of Vetheuil, near La Roche-Guyon, which fits snugly in the southeast corner of Normandy, one enters the tobacco-shop to buy a picture post-card, perhaps, of its quaint little church, so loved by artists, and there he will find an unassuming little man who retails tobacco tothe natives and souvenir postal cards to strangers while chatting glibly in either tongue.
At the Hôtel Bellevue in Les Andelys is a waitress who speaks excellent English; though you may be a guest of the house for months and talk in English daily with your artist-neighbour across the table, and not know that she understands a word of what you say,—which surely indicates great strength of mind on the part of this estimable woman, though the circumstance has proved embarrassing.
In this connection it is curious to note the influx of English words into the Gallic tongue. Most of these words have been taken up by the world of sport and fashion, and have not yet reached the common people.
One can, if he is ingenious, carry on quite a conversation with a young man about town, whom one may meet at table d’hôte or at a café, either at the capital or in the larger towns, without knowing a word of French, and without his realizing that he knows English.
“Gentleman,” “tennis,” and “golf”; “yacht,” “yachting,” and “mail-coach”; “garden-party,” “handicap,” and “jockey,”—all these are equally well-known and understood of the modern Frenchman. “Verysmart” is heard once and again of a “swell” turnout drawn by a pair of “high-steppers.”
For clothing the Frenchman of fashion affects “waterproofs,” “snow-boots,” “leggings,” and “knickerbockers,” and he travels in a “sleeping-car” when he can afford their outrageously high charges. When it comes to his menu—more’s the pity—he too often affects the “mutton-chop” and the “beefsteak” in the “grill-room” of a “music-hall.”
The fact is only mentioned here as showing a widespread affectation, which, in a former day, was much more confined and restricted.
In the wine country, in Touraine and on the coast, you will hear the “black rot” talked of, and in Normandy, at Havre, you will see a crowd of “dockers” discussing vehemently—as only Normans can—the latest “lockout.”
All this, say the discerning French, is a madness that can be cured. “Allons, parlons français!” that is the remedy; and matters have even gone so far as to form an association which should propagate the French tongue to the entire exclusion of the foreign, in the same way as there is a patriotic alliance to prevent the “invasion étrangère.”
The Norman patois is, perhaps, no more strange than the patois of other parts ofFrance. At any rate it is not so difficult to understand as the Breton tongue, which is only possible to a Welshman—and his numbers are few.
The Parisians who frequent Trouville revile the patois of Normandy; but then the Parisian does not admit that any one speaks the real French but he and his fellows. In Touraine they claim the same for their own capital.
Henry Moisy claims the existence, in the Norman’s common speech of to-day, of more than five thousand words which are foreign to the French language.
The Normandy patois, however, is exceedingly amusing and apropos. The author has been told when hurrying down a country road to the railway that there is plenty of time; the locomotive “hasn’t laughed yet,” meaning it had not whistled. Again at table d’hôte, when one has arrived late, and there remains only one small fish for two persons, you may be told that you will have to put up with “œufs à la coque” instead, as there is only “une souris à treize chats.” It is not an elegant expression, but it is characteristic.
Victor Hugo had the following to say concerning Norman French:
“Oh, you brave Normans! know you thatyour patois is venerable and sacred. It is a flower which sprang from the same root as the French.
“Your patois has left its impress upon the speech of England, Sicily, and Judea, at London, Naples, and at the tomb of Christ. To lose your speech is to lose your nationality, therefore, in preserving your idiom you are preserving your patriotism.”
“Yes, your patois is venerable and your first poet was the first ofpoètes français:
“Je di e dirai ke je suisWace de Jersuis.”
“Je di e dirai ke je suisWace de Jersuis.”
The following compilation of Norman idioms shows many curious and characteristic expressions. The definitions are given in French, simply because of the fact that many of them would quite lose their point in translation.
Amuseux.—Fainéant, qui muse: “C’est pas un mauvais homme, seulement il est un brin amuseux.”Annuyt.—Aujourd’hui. “J’aime mieux annuyt qu’à demain.”Andouille à treize quiens(chiens).—Petit héritage pour beaucoup d’héritiers; on dit aussi “une souris à treize cats (chats).”Apanage.—Possession embarrassante; “Ma chère, c’est tout un apanage de maison à tenir.”Chibras.—Paquet, monceau, fouillis, amas de choses en désordre. Se trouve dans Rabelais.Quant et.—En compagnie de, “j’m’en vais à quant et té.”A queutée.—Rangée à la queue leu leu, “une à queutée de monde.”Assemblée.—Fête villageoise.Assiette faîtée.—Assiette dont le contenu s’élève au-dessus, en faîte, littéralement en forme de faîte: “C’est un faim-vallier, il ne mange que par assiettes faîtées.”Du feur.—Fourrage, vieux mot d’origine Scandinave, d’où vient le fourrier.D’s’horains.—Mot honfleurais; dans l’ancien langage des marins de Honneur, on appelait deshorainsles plus gros câbles des navires. Par image, le mot est entré et resté dans le langage usuel, pour amarre. D’où la très jolie locution honfleuraise, dont quelques vieilles gens font encore usage, sans trop en savoir le vrai sens original. “Il a queuq’horain.” Il est amoureux, il a quelques fortes attaches.Et simplement: “Chacun a ses horains.”—Chacun a ses habitudes (en mauvaise part).Crassiner.—Pleuvoir d’une petite pluie fine qui a nomcrassinoucrachinet ressemble à du crachat qui encrasse les objets.I’s ont té el’vés commes trois petits quiensdans un’ manne auprès du feu.I’ li cause.—D’un amoureux, il lui fait la cour.I’s parle.—Se dit d’un paysan qui cherche à parler le langage de la ville.Le temps est au conseil.—Jolie expression maritime pour dire que le temps est incertain.—Le “conseil” délibère s’il fera beau ou vilain.Se démenter.—Se donner du trouble d’esprit, pour quelque chose.A Villerville, les pêcheurs sont tous desmaudits monstreset desmaudits guenons, termes d’amitié.—Les femmes sont des “por’ti cœurs.”Pouchiner.—Caresser un enfant comme une poule son poussin.Adirer.—Perdre, égarer.Espérerquelqu’un.—Attendre.Capogner.—Chiffonner avec force, déformer.Se chairer.—S’asseoir en prenant toute la place, se carrer.Mitan.—Le milieu, le centre (tout au mitan).Le coupet.—Le sommet (au fin coupet de l’arbre).Binder.—Rebondir.Patinguet.—Saut.Un repaire.—Se dit d’un homme vicieux. “Ne me parlez pas de celui-là, c’est un repaire.”Atiser, ratiser.—Corriger par des coups: “j’t’ vas ratiser.”Atourotter.—Enrouler autour; “l’serpent l’atourottit et l’étouffit.”Attendiment.—En attendant que; “soigne le pot au feu, attendiment que j’vas queri du bois.”A c’t’heure.—Maintenant: A cette heure, vieux français employé dans Montaigne.D’aveuc.—Avec.Barbelotte.—Bête à bon Dieu, coccinelle.Bavoler.—Voler près de terre; “i va ché d’qui (il va tomber quelque chose), les hirondelles bavolent.”Qu’ri.—Quérir, chercher.D’la partie.—En partant de là, depuis; “d’la partie de Pont-l’Evêque, j’sommes venus à Honfleur.”A l’enrait.—A cet endroit.Piler.—Fouler aux pieds; “ne m’pile pas su le pied.”S’commercer sur, s’marchander sur.—Faire des affaires; “i s’marchande su’ les grains.”Aloser.—Louanger, dire du bien de.Allouvi.—Avoir une faim de loup: “j’sommes allouvis.”Détourber.—Déranger, détourner.Crépir.—“I’s’crépit d’su’ses argots.” Se dit d’un coq.A ses accords.—A ses ordres. “Si tu cré que j’sis à ses accords.”A ses appoints.—Même sens.Demoiselle.—Petite mesure de liquide. Ce qu’une demoiselle peut boire d’eau-de-vie ou de cidre.Dans par où.—Laisser tout dans par où; commencer un ouvrage sans l’achever.Goublain.—Revenant, fantôme, diable des matelots; ils apparaissent en mer sous la forme des camarades noyés. En passant “sous Grâce” ou quand on fait le signe de la croix, le goublain se jette à l’eau;Kobolddes conteurs du Nord.Décapler.—S’en aller, mourir. “Le pauvre bougre est décaplé.” Terme maritime.Itou.—Aussi.Une bordée.—Compagnie nombreuse.Eclipper.—Eclabousser.C’est un char de guerre.—Se dit d’une personne brutale. Même signification queCerbère, porte de prison.La terre est poignardée.—La terre est corrompue.Le monde tire à sa fin.—Pour exprimer l’étonnement d’un fait rare, extraordinaire, une découverte.Où Dieu baille du train, il donne du pain.—Dieu protège les nombreuses familles.Cramail.—Le con, “prendre au cramail.”La belle heure.—“Je ne vois pas la belle heure de faire cela!” Ce ne sera pas commode.J’va pas voulé ça.—Oh! mais non, par exemple.Pièce.—“J’nai pièce:” je n’en ai pas.Heurer.—“Il est heuré pour ses repas.” Il a ses heures régulières.Heurible.—Précoce. Un pommier “heurible.”Ingamo.—“Avoir de l’ingamo,” avoir de l’esprit.Cœuru.—Qui a du cœur, dru, solide.Faire sa bonne sauce.—Présenter les choses à son avantage.Pas bileux.—Qui ne se fait pas de bile.D’un bibet il fait un eléphant.—Il exagère tout.En cas qu’ça sé.—En cas que cela soit, dubitatif ironique, pour: cela n’est pas vrai.Cousue de chagrin.—Une fille cousue de chagrin, elle ferait pleurait les cailloux du chemin.Suivez le cheu li.—On dit que c’est un brave homme; avantde le croire, suivez-le chez lui. Dans l’intimité, l’on se montre ce qu’on est.Plus la haie est basee, plus le monde y passe.—Plus vous êtes malheureux, moins on a d’égards pour vous.Les filles, les prêtres, les pigeons,No sait ben d’où qu’i viennent.No n’sait point où qu’i vont.N’y a cô qu’sé à ses noces.—Il n’est rien de tel que soi-même pour veiller à ses intérêts.L’ergent ça s’compte deux fé.—L’argent se compte deux fois.Veux-tu être hureu un jour?Saoule té!Veux-tu être hureu trois jours?Marie té!Veux-tu être hureu huit jours?Tue tan cochan!Veux-tu être hureu toute ta vie?Fais té curé!
Amuseux.—Fainéant, qui muse: “C’est pas un mauvais homme, seulement il est un brin amuseux.”
Annuyt.—Aujourd’hui. “J’aime mieux annuyt qu’à demain.”
Andouille à treize quiens(chiens).—Petit héritage pour beaucoup d’héritiers; on dit aussi “une souris à treize cats (chats).”
Apanage.—Possession embarrassante; “Ma chère, c’est tout un apanage de maison à tenir.”
Chibras.—Paquet, monceau, fouillis, amas de choses en désordre. Se trouve dans Rabelais.
Quant et.—En compagnie de, “j’m’en vais à quant et té.”
A queutée.—Rangée à la queue leu leu, “une à queutée de monde.”
Assemblée.—Fête villageoise.
Assiette faîtée.—Assiette dont le contenu s’élève au-dessus, en faîte, littéralement en forme de faîte: “C’est un faim-vallier, il ne mange que par assiettes faîtées.”
Du feur.—Fourrage, vieux mot d’origine Scandinave, d’où vient le fourrier.
D’s’horains.—Mot honfleurais; dans l’ancien langage des marins de Honneur, on appelait deshorainsles plus gros câbles des navires. Par image, le mot est entré et resté dans le langage usuel, pour amarre. D’où la très jolie locution honfleuraise, dont quelques vieilles gens font encore usage, sans trop en savoir le vrai sens original. “Il a queuq’horain.” Il est amoureux, il a quelques fortes attaches.
Et simplement: “Chacun a ses horains.”—Chacun a ses habitudes (en mauvaise part).
Crassiner.—Pleuvoir d’une petite pluie fine qui a nomcrassinoucrachinet ressemble à du crachat qui encrasse les objets.
I’s ont té el’vés commes trois petits quiensdans un’ manne auprès du feu.
I’ li cause.—D’un amoureux, il lui fait la cour.
I’s parle.—Se dit d’un paysan qui cherche à parler le langage de la ville.
Le temps est au conseil.—Jolie expression maritime pour dire que le temps est incertain.—Le “conseil” délibère s’il fera beau ou vilain.
Se démenter.—Se donner du trouble d’esprit, pour quelque chose.
A Villerville, les pêcheurs sont tous desmaudits monstreset desmaudits guenons, termes d’amitié.—Les femmes sont des “por’ti cœurs.”
Pouchiner.—Caresser un enfant comme une poule son poussin.
Adirer.—Perdre, égarer.
Espérerquelqu’un.—Attendre.
Capogner.—Chiffonner avec force, déformer.
Se chairer.—S’asseoir en prenant toute la place, se carrer.
Mitan.—Le milieu, le centre (tout au mitan).
Le coupet.—Le sommet (au fin coupet de l’arbre).
Binder.—Rebondir.
Patinguet.—Saut.
Un repaire.—Se dit d’un homme vicieux. “Ne me parlez pas de celui-là, c’est un repaire.”
Atiser, ratiser.—Corriger par des coups: “j’t’ vas ratiser.”
Atourotter.—Enrouler autour; “l’serpent l’atourottit et l’étouffit.”
Attendiment.—En attendant que; “soigne le pot au feu, attendiment que j’vas queri du bois.”
A c’t’heure.—Maintenant: A cette heure, vieux français employé dans Montaigne.
D’aveuc.—Avec.
Barbelotte.—Bête à bon Dieu, coccinelle.
Bavoler.—Voler près de terre; “i va ché d’qui (il va tomber quelque chose), les hirondelles bavolent.”
Qu’ri.—Quérir, chercher.
D’la partie.—En partant de là, depuis; “d’la partie de Pont-l’Evêque, j’sommes venus à Honfleur.”
A l’enrait.—A cet endroit.
Piler.—Fouler aux pieds; “ne m’pile pas su le pied.”
S’commercer sur, s’marchander sur.—Faire des affaires; “i s’marchande su’ les grains.”
Aloser.—Louanger, dire du bien de.
Allouvi.—Avoir une faim de loup: “j’sommes allouvis.”
Détourber.—Déranger, détourner.
Crépir.—“I’s’crépit d’su’ses argots.” Se dit d’un coq.
A ses accords.—A ses ordres. “Si tu cré que j’sis à ses accords.”
A ses appoints.—Même sens.
Demoiselle.—Petite mesure de liquide. Ce qu’une demoiselle peut boire d’eau-de-vie ou de cidre.
Dans par où.—Laisser tout dans par où; commencer un ouvrage sans l’achever.
Goublain.—Revenant, fantôme, diable des matelots; ils apparaissent en mer sous la forme des camarades noyés. En passant “sous Grâce” ou quand on fait le signe de la croix, le goublain se jette à l’eau;Kobolddes conteurs du Nord.
Décapler.—S’en aller, mourir. “Le pauvre bougre est décaplé.” Terme maritime.
Itou.—Aussi.
Une bordée.—Compagnie nombreuse.
Eclipper.—Eclabousser.
C’est un char de guerre.—Se dit d’une personne brutale. Même signification queCerbère, porte de prison.
La terre est poignardée.—La terre est corrompue.
Le monde tire à sa fin.—Pour exprimer l’étonnement d’un fait rare, extraordinaire, une découverte.
Où Dieu baille du train, il donne du pain.—Dieu protège les nombreuses familles.
Cramail.—Le con, “prendre au cramail.”
La belle heure.—“Je ne vois pas la belle heure de faire cela!” Ce ne sera pas commode.
J’va pas voulé ça.—Oh! mais non, par exemple.
Pièce.—“J’nai pièce:” je n’en ai pas.
Heurer.—“Il est heuré pour ses repas.” Il a ses heures régulières.
Heurible.—Précoce. Un pommier “heurible.”
Ingamo.—“Avoir de l’ingamo,” avoir de l’esprit.
Cœuru.—Qui a du cœur, dru, solide.
Faire sa bonne sauce.—Présenter les choses à son avantage.
Pas bileux.—Qui ne se fait pas de bile.
D’un bibet il fait un eléphant.—Il exagère tout.
En cas qu’ça sé.—En cas que cela soit, dubitatif ironique, pour: cela n’est pas vrai.
Cousue de chagrin.—Une fille cousue de chagrin, elle ferait pleurait les cailloux du chemin.
Suivez le cheu li.—On dit que c’est un brave homme; avantde le croire, suivez-le chez lui. Dans l’intimité, l’on se montre ce qu’on est.
Plus la haie est basee, plus le monde y passe.—Plus vous êtes malheureux, moins on a d’égards pour vous.
Les filles, les prêtres, les pigeons,
No sait ben d’où qu’i viennent.
No n’sait point où qu’i vont.
N’y a cô qu’sé à ses noces.—Il n’est rien de tel que soi-même pour veiller à ses intérêts.
L’ergent ça s’compte deux fé.—L’argent se compte deux fois.
Veux-tu être hureu un jour?Saoule té!
Veux-tu être hureu trois jours?Marie té!
Veux-tu être hureu huit jours?Tue tan cochan!
Veux-tu être hureu toute ta vie?Fais té curé!
With the English tourist, at least, the Norman patois will not cause dissension, if indeed he notices it at all—or knows what it’s all about, if he does notice it.
Every intelligent person, of course, is fond of speculating as to the etymology of foreign words and phrases; and in France he will find many expressions which will make him think he knows nothing at all of the language, provided he has learned it out of school-books.
Many a university prize-winner has before now found himself stranded and hungry at a railway buffet because he could not make the waiter understand that he wanted his tea served with milk and his cut of roast beef underdone.
French colloquialism and idiom are the stumbling-blocks of the foreigner in France, even if he is college bred. The French are not so prolific in proverbs as the Spanish, and the slang of the boulevards is not the speech of the provincial Frenchman. There are in the French language quaint and pat sayings, however, which now and then crop up all over France, and as an unexpected reply to some simple and grammatically well-formed inquiry are most disconcerting to the foreigner.
A Frenchman will make you an off-hand reply to some observation by stating “C’est vieux comme le Pont Neuf,” meaning “it’s as old as the hills,” and “bon chat, bon rat,” when he means “tit for tat,” or “sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.”
If you have had a struggle with your automobile tire, or have just escaped from slipping off the gangplank leading from a boat to the shore, you might well say in English, “That was warm work.” The Frenchman’s comment is not far different; he says, “L’affaire a été chaude.” “Business is business” is much the same in French, “Les affaires sont les affaires,” and “trade is bad” becomes “Les affaires ne marchent pas.” “He is a dead man,” in French, becomes, “Son affaire(orson compte)est fait.” The Frenchman, whenhe pawns his watch, does not “put it up” with his uncle, but tells you, “J’ai porté ma montre chez ma tante.” “Every day is not Sunday” in its French equivalent reads, “Ce n’est pas tous les jours fête.”
“He hasn’t an idea in his head” becomes “Il a jeté tout son feu,” and, paradoxically, when one gets a receipt from his landlord that individual writes, “pour acquit.”
A fortune, in a small way, awaits the person who will evolve some simple method of teaching English-speaking people how to know a French idiom when they meet with it. Truly, idiomatic French is a veritable pitfall of phrase.
GAULin the time of Cæsar included Normandy in its general scheme, as is shown by the ancient names,—that of the Lexovii, at Lisieux; the Bajocasses, at Bayeux; the Unelli of the Cotentin; the Ambivariti, at Avranches; the Veliscasses of Vexin and Rotomagus (Rouen), and the Caletes of the Pays de Caux.
It was many centuries before all these peoples were welded together under one stable government, the Franks only predominating toward the end of the fifth century, after they had vanquished the Romans at Soissons, in Belgica, in 486.
Normandy formed one of the four ancient provinces of transalpine Gaul known to their founder, Augustus, as Lyonnaise. Since it bordered upon the Manche, or what is otherwise known as the English Channel, the “ancientland of Lyonnese” is known to geologists as forming a fragment of what was one day the mainland of Europe.
In our later day the only attempt at the preservation of this ancient name was in the distribution of the ecclesiastical provinces of France previous to the Revolution, when the archbishop who had his throne at Rouen exercised his rights through all the northern province of the Lyonnaise of Augustus.
Later ancient Gaul became again divided, so far as the present limits of France are concerned, into four great divisions, of which Neustria, a vast triangle between the mouth of the Escaut, the source of the Seine, and Bretagne, which included the whole of Normandy, was one of the most important.
The Neustri Kingdom (ne-ost-reich, the kingdom which is not of the east) was further distinguished from theOstrasienby manners and customs which were climatically influenced to differ from those of theost reich, which were manifestly Germanic.
In 1789 the Assembly reconstructed the map of France—the great rhomboid of France, as the French school geographies put it—into eighty-three departments, when Normandy was dismembered to form the Departments of Calvados,Orne, Manche, Eure, and the Lower Seine.
Normandy, as a powerful independent state in the middle ages, was greatly helped by its natural advantages.
Its great spread of territory, along the Channel coast between the Bresle and the Couesnon, for a matter of six hundred kilometres, has its shore lined with numerous creeks and valleys and marked by jutting fangs of rock, with here and there a sand-spread shore lying beneath a chalky cliff.
Upper Normandy was the name given to that portion of the province lying to the eastward, and Lower Normandy to that lying to the westward;the dividing line being the Pays d’Auge, lying between the valleys of the Touques and the Dives.
Upper Normandy is a series of plateaus, not unlike Picardy and Artois. The streams run through deep valleys which divide these plateaus into distinct blocks, each with a striking individuality.
To the west is the Pays de Caux, which has for a subdivision a restricted region between the Bresle and Dieppe known as the Petit-Caux.
Dieppe, Havre, and Rouen are the three angles of this elevated plain, which, on its western boundary, is bordered by the Seine, where a great promontory known as the Nez de Tancarville juts out into the river.
To a great extent these plateaus are deprived of water, but the valleys have a super-abundance.
Along the coast of Upper Normandy are the famous seaside resorts of Tréport-Mers, Dieppe, Veules, St. Valery-en-Caux, Petites Dalles, Fécamp, Yport, and Etretat.
In the interior is the curious Pays de Bray, between the valleys of the Ept and the Andelle. This is a part of the ancient Vexin, of which the Isle of France also held a portion as well as Normandy; the old divisions being knownas “Vexin Français,” and “Vexin Normand.”
Westward of the Seine is the Plain of St. André, and between the Eure, the Avre, and the Iton is the Campagne du Neubourg.
The Roumois lies between the Eure, the Iton, and the Risle, and the Pays d’Ouche between the Iton and the Charentonne, while the Lieuvin borders on the Risle and the Touques.
The Pays d’Auge, between the Touques and the Dives, is also a fragment cut from the same plateau which lies to the eastward.
Throughout Upper Normandy are innumerable forests, preserved to-day from reservations of a former time and guarded carefully by a solicitous government.
These are principally the forests of Eu, Arques, Bray, Lyons (an enormous tract), Les Andelys, Vernon, Bizy, Louviers, Pont de l’Arche, Londe, Roumare, and Rouvray (opposite Rouen), Jumièges, Trait-St. Wandrille, Beaumont, Ivry, Evreux, and Touques.
In Lower Normandy the topography and configuration change completely. It contains innumerable little streams and rivers, and it is more uniformly elevated than in the east; the plateaus averaging between one and two hundred metres above sea-level.
The Orne and the Vire are the chief waterways among this multitude of rivulets, very few of which, except the two former, are navigable to any extent.
The chief districts here are: The Campagne de Caen, the Pays du Bessin, the Bocage, the Cotentin, and the Collines de La Perche—whence come the Percherons.
The whole region is most delightful, abounding in charming river scenery, valleys, and wooded tracts of oak, beech, and pine.
The coast of these parts is more sombre and austere than that to the eastward, though none the less delightful, the Nez de Jobourg and Cape de la Hague being as unpeopled and as little known to tourists as if they were in Labrador.
For the most part the climate of Normandy is the same as that which prevails throughout the lower Seine valley; in general moderate and without extremes of heat or cold, and yet quite different from the climate of America, which Reclus, the geographer, has apportioned to Brittany.
Frequently, in the valley of the Orne, the early mornings are thick with mist which makes those charming views which artists love; while, in the valley of the Auge, and in Bessin,there is undoubtedly too much rain, as there is in some parts of the Seine valley, while at Les Andelys, thirty miles away, there is a notable absence of it.
Generally speaking, it rains more frequently on the coast than in the interior of Normandy. The Cotentin peninsula possesses the mildest climate of all, favouring that of Brittany to a great extent, owing to the proximity of the Gulf Stream. So mild is it here that myrtle, camellias, and fuchsias grow in the open air, which they do not in other parts of the province, unless well sheltered and cared for.
Properly speaking, France has no northern frontier, though the coast which borders the Strait of Calais and the Channel is quite as vulnerable and open to attack as it has been in times past, and as is the German frontier of Alsace and Lorraine.
The mementos of war along the shores of the English Channel are numerous indeed. From St. Malo to Dieppe, the corsairs frequently attacked. At Dives the fleet of William the Conqueror set sail for the shores of England, and Harfleur was the place of landing of Edward III. of England in 1346. The English occupied Cherbourg for a long period, and in 1415 Henry V. disembarked at Harfleur,near the mouth of the Seine, at the beginning of that campaign which terminated at Agincourt.
At the mouth of the Seine, François I. founded Françoisville, later Havre de Grâce, which for a time was in the hands of the English, and was three times bombarded during the wars of Louis XIV. and Louis XV. St. Malo, Cherbourg, and Dieppe also suffered in the same way.
The dividing of the old historical provinces of France into administrative departments, after the Revolution, was a most ingenious work. The idea was then, and always has been, to foster local pride and love of country, province, and district, and for this reason the nomenclature of the new departments, carved out of the old provinces, was most convenient and suitable.
It could not have been better done, for the names of local, physical, and topographical features, such as rivers, mountains, and plateaus were used to distinguish them.
Thus, whilst he is a Breton, and a Frenchman, the native of the Morbihan may have quite different emotions and sentiments from one of Finistère; and the peasant of the Pays deCaux, known as a Cauchois, is quite a different person from the peasant of the Cotentin.
These political divisions are now as familiarly impressed upon the French mind as were the old names of the provinces, and a son of the Aube or the Eure will fraternize to-day with none of those jealousies which formerly rankled between the Bourguignon and the Norman.
After the division into the old provinces, of which the residents of Normandy and Brittany were as proud as any, came the kneading together after the Revolution of those widely divergent influences which go to make up modern France.
The affairs of the departments—of which the ancient Normandy, as we have seen, made five—are administered by a Préfet appointed by the President on the suggestion of the Minister of the Interior.
Each department is made up of many districts, of which the smallest number is four, if one excepts the poor, rent fragment known as the Territory of Belfort—all that is left of the former Department of the Upper Rhine.
The district, of which there are 362 in France, has its affairs administered by a Sous-Préfet. He is nominated by the President of the Republicand is subordinate to the Préfet of the department.
The district is made up of many cantons, the smallest number being eight. The canton comprehends, usually, many communes, the smallest number being twelve. It forms a group, which, popularly speaking, enjoys a certain form of self-government, under a commissioner, who is, of course, directly responsible to the Sous-Préfet of his district. There are, throughout France, 2,865 cantons.
The commune represents the smallest territorial division recognized in the economic conduct of the French governmental affairs. There are in the neighbourhood of 36,000 in France, and they usually comprise a city or large town, with its surrounding villages, hamlets, isolated dwellings, and farms.
The affairs of the commune are administered by the mayor and common council. In the capitals of the department, district, or canton, the mayor is nominated by the President of the Republic, and in the other communes by the Préfet.
The city of Paris, however, has a special administration of its own.
The ancient province of Normandy, after it had been confiscated and welded to the royaldomain of Philippe-Auguste (1204), enjoyed many unique rights; of which the chief was the privilege of its inhabitants to be judged on appeal to their own supreme court, which sat at Rouen.
The peasants of the country-side had always rebelled against royal despotism, for which reason their individuality was most pronounced.
Upper Normandy had Rouen for its capital, and Lower Normandy, Caen. This last city possessed a university and long remained the intellectual centre of the province.
To-day its five departments, the Lower Seine, Eure, Calvados, Orne, and Manche, have their ecclesiastical metropolis and archbishop at Rouen, with suffragans and bishops at Evreux, Bayeux, Sées, and Coutances.
From “The French Drawn by Themselves,” of Bedollière, one learns that “the Normans are theAnglaisof France, but in industry only.”
Jal says briefly: “The peasants of Normandy have a great love for the bonnet of cotton.”
Bedollière continues with the statement that “the costume of the Norman women is varied to the infinite, but all, down to thefille d’auberge, have the instructive science ofcoquetterie.”
“The Norman will never answer you directly,” says another; “yes and no are difficult replies for him to make to one’s question.”
“The Norman is the Gascon of the north and the Gascon is the Norman of the Midi,” one reads, also.
La Fontaine carried the simile still further, though it is difficult to follow his argument exactly:
“Les serments des Gascons et des Normands passent peu pour mots d’Evangile.”
A similar vein is the following Norman supplication which some cynical Frenchman has invented or unearthed from a hidden source:
“O Lord, I ask you not to favour me with good things. I merit not that which thou would’st give; but tell me only where they are and I will go and take them.”
The inhabitants of Normandy have unquestionably a strong individuality, “above all,” says a local chronicler, “good sense and good judgment.” The one would seem to include the other, but that is the way it is put.