Brittany & Its Byways — Key Ideas to Explore
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For Brittany & Its Byways — Key Ideas to Explore, the stored edition analysis reports 66,896 words, 4 hr 51 min estimated reading time, and 16 detected text sections.
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hrough that gateway pass All varying forms of sickness and distress, And many a poor worn face that hath not smiled For years,—and many a feeble crippled child,— Blesses the tall, white portal where they stand, And the dear Lady of the liberal hand.” THE LADY OF LA GARAYE.
Nor was their philanthropy confined to their own province. In 1720, they offered themselves to M. de Belzunce—"Marseilles’ good bishop"—to assist him during the visitation of the Plague. The fame of their virtues reached even the French Court, and Louis XV. sent Count de la Garaye the order of St. Lazarus with a donation of 50,000 livres and a contract on the post of 25,000 more.
They both died at an advanced age, within two years of each other, and were buried among their poor at Taden, but their marble mausoleum in the church was destroyed in the French Revolution. Count de la Garaye(6) left a large sum to be distributed among the prisoners, principally English, at Rennes and Dinan, who were suffering pent up in these crowded gaols. The Comte had attended the English prisoners at Dinan during a contagious fever, called the "peste blanche," and, in acknowledgment of his humanity, Queen Caroline sent him two dogs with silver collars round their necks, and an English nobleman made him a present of six more.
The ruined château is approached by an ivy-covered gateway, through an avenue of beeches:—
“Le lierre flottant comme un manteau de deuil, Couvre à demi la porte et rampe sur le seuil.” LAMARTINE, _Harmonies Poëtiques_.
or, as Mrs. Norton renders it:—
“And like a mourner’s mantle, with sad grace, Waves the dark ivy—hiding half the door And threshold, where the weary traveller’s foot Shall never find a courteous welcome more.”
It is fast falling to pieces. The principal part remaining is an octagonal turret of three stories, with elegant Renaissance decoration round the windows. One more quotation from Mrs. Norton, and we quit these hallowed ruins:—
“We know the healthy stir of human life Must be for ever gone! The walls where hung the warrior’s shining casque Are green with moss and mould; The blindworm coils where Queens have slept, nor asks For shelter from the cold. The swallow,—he is master all the day, And the great owl is ruler through the night; The little bat wheels on his circling way, With restless flittering flight; And that small bat, and the creeping things, At will they come and go, And the soft white owl with velvet wings, And a shout of human woe! The brambles let no footsteps pass By that rent in the broken stair, When the pale tufts of the windle-strae grass Hang like locks of dry dead hair; But there the keen sound ever sweeps and moans, “Working a passage through the mouldering stones.” THE LADY OF LA GARAYE.
From Dinan, instead of taking the customary road to the railway station of Caulnes, we hired a carriage, in order to visit the fortress castle of La Hunaudaye, midway between Dinan and Lamballe. The road lay by Jugon, a town prettily situated in the cleft of two hills. On one once stood an important castle, which gave rise to the saying:—
“Qui a Bretagne sans Jugon, A chape sans chaperon.”
Palliser begins not in Brittany but at Cherbourg, describing the harbour, breakwater, and dock-yard with the eye of a Victorian tourist who values both engineering and royal visits. The table of contents reveals a methodical itinerary: each town receives a cluster of entries—churches, castles, legends, and local customs. The opening pages establish a pattern of mixing practical travel notes (inn-signs, modes of washing) with historical anecdotes (the defeat of the Vendean army, the death of La Rochejacquelin). Readers should expect a work that moves briskly from place to place, pausing for stories that catch the author's interest.
A Traveller's Itinerary and Its Surprises
The table of contents reads like a packed diary: Cherbourg, Querqueville, Tourlaville, Martinvast, Bricquebec, and on. Palliser does not linger long in any one spot. At Cancale she notes the oysters and the “wretched public vehicles”; at St. Malo she observes the sea-wall, the tomb of Chateaubriand, and the watch-dogs. The structure itself guides a first reading: each chapter is a discrete stop, and the reader can dip in and out. Yet the excerpts show that the most vivid passages often arrive when Palliser steps away from the itinerary to recount a legend or a historical episode—such as the story of the Lady Typhaine at Pontorson or the duel of Du Guesclin and Thomas of Cantorbéry at Dinan.
Legends and Miracles at Ste. Anne d'Auray
The extended passage on Ste. Anne d'Auray reveals Palliser's method at its most engaged. She recounts the seventeenth-century legend of the peasant Nicolazic, who discovered a statue of Ste. Anne guided by a miraculous light. She describes the Scala Sancta, the holy staircase ascended barefoot by pilgrims, and the fountain where a young lady reportedly recovered from paralysis. The detail is precise: the épinglettes worn in hats, the altar-cloth from Ireland with “Irlande: Reconnaissance à Sainte Anne, 1850” woven into the pattern. Palliser also notes the railway station two miles away, grounding the miraculous in modern accessibility. This section shows how she weaves together local belief, material culture, and contemporary travel.
The Battle of Auray and Its Omens
At the Chartreuse near Auray, Palliser turns to the battle of 1364 that secured the duchy for John de Montfort. She draws on Froissart for the full account, listing the chivalry on both sides: Sir John Chandos, Du Guesclin, Sir Robert Knollys, Olivier de Clisson. The most striking detail is the white greyhound of Charles of Blois, which deserted its master and ran to de Montfort, caressing him—an omen that passed through the army. Palliser notes that the dog had been a gift from a witch to Duke John the Good. She also records the war cries: “In the name of God and St. Ives” for Charles, and “Malo mori quam fœdari” for Montfort. The passage demonstrates her interest in the dramatic and the symbolic.
Palliser's Voice: Observation and Inference
Throughout the excerpts, Palliser's own voice emerges in small judgments and asides. She calls the public vehicles at Cancale “wretched,” and at Ste. Anne she notes that the fame of the shrine is “world-wide.” She does not hesitate to include the photograph of the healed young lady, but she does not vouch for the miracle. Her tone is that of a curious, well-read traveller who reports what she sees and hears without excessive credulity. The reader should attend to these moments of personal reaction: they are clues to what Palliser found noteworthy. The book is not a dry catalogue but a record of one Victorian woman's encounter with a region rich in history, faith, and peculiar custom.
Palliser's Brittany & Its Byways rewards a reader who moves slowly, letting the juxtaposition of legend and railway timetable create its own texture. The excerpts suggest that the most memorable passages are those where the author allows a story to unfold—the greyhound, the miraculous well, the duel. A first reading might focus on these set-pieces, treating the itinerary as a frame. The book is best approached not as a systematic guide but as a collection of vivid encounters, each anchored in a specific place.
Sometimes a place stays with you less for its grand sights than for the quiet way it whispers its past. That’s how I felt reading about Brittany’s old churches and pilgrim paths. It reminded me of how another traveler captured that same unhurried wonder in Travels through the states of North America, and the provinces of Upper and Lower Canada, during the years 1795, 1796, and 1797 [Vol. 1 of 2] — Story, Setting & Ideas, where every mile felt like a small, private discovery.
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