This is an age of travel, and many persons are searching diligently for some district intrinsically interesting and desirable, not too much overrun by their kind, and above all not too inaccessible, wherein they may take a holiday. Such a district there is in the CÔtentin peninsula jutting out from the north coast of France, one of the only two peninsulas in Europe, by the way, which do point in that direction. It is not only in position that the CÔtentin resembles Denmark, but also in race; here and here alone in Normandy may still be found men of the same blood as the Conqueror.

In conformation the CÔtentin peninsula is akin to Brittany, being almost entirely of granite, which ancient formation extends over the whole district, with the exception of a strip south of La Hogue, on the western coast. The landscape is such as is generally found in granite countries, broken and varied, with stern coasts and massive cliffs, which are continually breaking away and letting the sea eat into the land. It is said that at one time Jersey was divided by only a narrow river from the mainland, and now with the recession of the coast it is far out to sea. Not only in scenery is the CÔtentin a delightful place for a holiday, but in more unusual attractions. Its heights and hollows are studded with architectural remains, proud and stern chateaux, now for the most part occupied as farmhouses; its annals are as full of skirmishes and romantic stories as our own border country. Within a ten-mile radius of Valognes to the west and south, we find the chateaux of St Martin le Hebert, Bricbecque, Nehou, Vicomte St Sauveur, Crosville, Urville, and Flottemanville. Further south are the ruins of the ancient castle of La Haye du Puits. Of all these, Bricbecque and St Sauveur are the best known. Bricbecque stands up stern and strong still, a majestic ruin; in its courtyard is the hotel, and the far-stretching walls tell of its previous extent. The Sire of Bricbecque was nearly always at enmity with the Sire of St Sauveur, and the two regarded each other with great jealousy. St Sauveur was the more powerful, and in the time of the Conqueror its chieftain Neel, or Nigel, held the title of Premier Baron or Vicomte of the CÔtentin. He it was who joined the conspiracy against William, to whom his father had been a loyal and true vassal; and he was among those horsemen who entered Valognes by stealth in order to seize William unawares and assassinate him. The story of the duke’s escape and the subsequent fight at Val-Ès-Dunes has already been told. Yet after Neel had made his submission, William forgave him, and in time restored him to his castle, though the lands which Neel had held in Guernsey were handed over to the Church as an act of reparation. In this was only completed what his father had begun, for the elder Neel had given largely to the Church.

Neel’s line ended in a daughter, who carried the castle by marriage to Tesson Jourdain, and from the Jourdains it passed, also by marriage, to the Harcourts. In the reign of Edward III. of England, the chieftain Harcourt rebelled against the French king, and joined Edward in his attempts on France. He was once pardoned, but again turned traitor, and was finally killed fighting gallantly enough with his back against a tree, all alone in the midst of the soldiers sent to take him by the King of France. After his death the castle continued in the hands of the English, under Sir John Chandos, who built the splendid keep or tower which still stands; and when Sir John fell, his company held on until, in 1372, the whole force of France was brought to bear on them, and the men who had ravaged the country and behaved like robber barons for three years were forced to come to an agreement. They were allowed to go out with the honours of war, however. Once again, in the reign of Henry V., the castle was in English hands, but with the rest of Normandy became French in 1450.

The fine abbey founded by Neel still remains, though it has been so largely restored as to be almost new built; one splendid aisle arcade remains to tell us of its ancient origin. It now is the home of the Sisters de la MisÉricorde, while the castle, after its stormy career, has settled into a peaceful old age as a hospice for old people and children. Bricbecque belonged to the Bertrands, from whom the earls of Huntley and Dudley claim descent; then to the Paisnels, and then to the D’Estoutevilles. The castle is now a splendid ruin, with a high and massive donjon keep, a deep, dark, tunnel archway, a smaller tower, and a great part of the encircling wall. In the courtyard, enclosed within part of the ruin, is the Hotel des Voyageurs.

Of the older part of La Haye du Puits there is only a ruined donjon, but the castles of Crosville and Flottemanville stand in good preservation, though fallen from their high estate to the condition of farmhouses. The splendid tower at Crosville, with its bastion turret, is well worth seeing, and the large room, probably the banqueting-hall, is still decorated on ceiling and frieze and panels with paintings done in the sixteenth century, showing that up till then it still remained the dwelling of the great ones of the land. Flottemanville is as attractive in a rather different style. They all have features in common these castles: the keep or tower for defence, their proximity to the church, and their massive walls, probably dating in their foundations from William’s own time, but rebuilt at a later date, as by his order all these strongholds were destroyed after Val-Ès-Dunes. But those we have mentioned are only a few of the principal survivals amid the numerous castles that stud the district.

Valognes itself has been from very early times a centre of gaiety, and this reputation lasted up to the eighteenth century. At present it is a quiet yet busy town. It is built on no fixed plan; its streets run anyhow. In the centre is the church, which is quite peculiar, being surmounted by both a spire and a dome of different dates. The main part is of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, but the dome was added in 1612. Inside there is some superb wood-carving.

In the streets of Valognes, and everywhere in the neighbourhood, may be seen a curious cap worn by the women. It is edged in front by a high upstanding ruche of black and white, with the ends frayed out, giving the appearance of feathers, and the whole at a little distance is not unlike an Indian headdress. Everywhere in the CÔtentin one meets among the strong-faced farmers men who might have been blood-brothers to William, men with square faces, thin lips, and stern features. They are often of massive build, and though not excessively tall, certainly of greater height than the ordinary French agricultural class. The Danish blood has remained here with strange persistency throughout generation after generation: these men are not Frenchmen at all. You feel it the moment you encounter them; they are a northern race with northern characteristics.

Not far from Valognes, in its suburb Alleaumes, are the ruins of the castle where William was staying when he made his midnight escape. Besides the history connected with its castles, the peninsula has annals of its own. As the northern coast was a very convenient landing-place from England, it was often the CÔtentin which bore the first brunt of an English engagement. Edward the Confessor landed here on mischief bent, but was driven back by the inhabitants, who rose as one man under Neel the Elder.

While William the Red reigned in England, and the feeble Robert was nominal Duke of Normandy, Henry Beauclerc descended upon the CÔtentin, and ruled it for many years. His rule was firm and good, and he was popular, and the peninsula consequently enjoyed far more prosperity than the rest of distracted Normandy. Henry’s power extended as far south as Domfront, for the titles of Count of Mortain and Count of the CÔtentin still went together. When Henry became King of England he yielded the CÔtentin to Robert, until he won it back again by his sword. When Edward III. swooped down upon France he passed through the whole district capturing, burning, and destroying, and none could stand up against his army. Again, when Henry V. made an effort to retrieve the domains which had belonged to his forefathers, the CÔtentin was swept from end to end. In the religious wars, once again the town was in the midst of turmoil, but it yielded to Henri IV. after the battle of Ivry.

We have specialised only on a very small part of the CÔtentin, and that the least known, but it is impossible to leave without mention of the famous port of Cherbourg, the finest harbour in France. The records of Cherbourg go back to the sixth century, when a saint named Scubilion is said to have resided here, and even before Scubilion’s day, a still mistier and a nameless saint had landed here, and converted the inhabitants. The breakwater at Cherbourg, finished in 1853, can hold a fleet at anchor, and is guarded by forts.

The town of Cherbourg is said to derive its name from CÆsar’s Bourg, but the derivation is very doubtful. William the Conqueror founded here a college, which his granddaughter, Matilda or Maude, incorporated into a new monastery of her own. The castle was a great favourite with Henry I. It was here he had been staying in November 1120, when he set sail from Barfleur, leaving the merry company of young nobles to follow with his son and daughter in the White Ship. History gives it that the prince himself might have been saved after the fatal wreck had he not returned at the cry of his sister, who had been left on the wreck, whereupon so many leapt into the boat that it was swamped. How persistently the fact that only a butcher of Rouen was saved, impresses itself upon the childish mind, so that years after, when we have forgotten far more important things, we still remember it!

Before we leave the CÔtentin altogether, we may mention that delightful chronicler Wace, to whom we owe so much, and who wrote with the ease and picturesqueness of a Pepys, in an age when composition was a serious and dry-as-dust matter. Wace was born in Jersey about 1100–20, therefore he was a native of the CÔtentin, in which Jersey was then included. He is reported to have lived to the age of eighty-four, and to have died in England. His life was contemporary with the reigns of Henry I., Stephen, Henry II., and Richard I., and that which he records before 1100 was told to him by word of mouth, partly by his father, to whom he makes reference. His chronicle, which is in the form of a poem, is called the Roman de Rou (or Rollo), and the English translation of it goes no further back than William I. Wace is the most delightful and interesting of chroniclers in an age which was singularly rich. Robert of JumiÈges, Ordericus Vitalis, and others have left us accounts as full as any modern newspaper report, of what happened in their days, and they are only the leaders among a host of lesser men.