NO promise given to the hostess of one’s inn is alleged as an excuse for writing this book, but it is true that rosy, busy Madame X of the Soleil d’Or, in the fishing village in which the work received its final collation and revision, watched its growth for many a week, daily declaring her hope of some day receiving a volume containing “your impressions.” And, indeed, her hope shall not be vain, for one of the first copies shall be most speedily despatched to her. Moreover, the author and artist hope that it may be acceptable to her critical mind, for she is not likely to be lenient, though she knows full well that to the many authors and artists who make a refuge of her modest inn for months she owes her livelihood.

The book is a record of many journeys and many rambles by road and rail around the coast, and in no sense is it put forth either as a special or as a complete survey of things and matters Breton.

Many lights and shadows have been thrown upon the screen from various points, but the effort has been made to blend them all into a pleasing whole, which shall supplement the guide-books of convention.

It were not possible to do more than has been attempted within the limits of a volume such as this, and therefore many details of routes, and historical data of a relative sort, and a certain amount of topographical information have been scattered through the volume or placed in the appendix, in the belief that such information is greatly needed in a work attempting to purvey “travel talk” even in small measure.

Some of this knowledge is so little subject to change that it may well stand for all time, and, in these days of well-nigh universal travel, may be not thought out of place in a volume intended both for the armchair traveller and also for him who journeys by road and rail. That only a very limited quantity of such information can be included is a misfortune, inasmuch as such a handbook is often used when no other aid is accessible to the traveller.

Finally, the illustrative material, the large number of drawings of sights and scenes, of great architectural monuments, and of the dress of the people, is offered less as a complete pictorial survey than as a panorama of impressions received on and off the beaten track,—and more satisfying and truthful than the mere snap-shots of hurried travel.

In addition, many maps, plans, and diagrams should give many of the itineraries a lucidity often lacking in the usual railway maps.

RAMBLES IN BRITTANY

THE regard which every one has for the old French provinces is by no means inexplicable. Out of them grew the present solidarity of republican France, but in spite of it the old limits of demarcation are not yet expunged. One and all retain to-day their individual characteristics, manners, and customs, and also a certain subconscious atmosphere.

There are many French writers, and painters for that matter, who have made these provinces famous. Napoleon, perhaps, set the fashion, when he wrote, in 1786, that eulogy beginning: “It is now six or seven years since I left my native country.” More familiar is the “Native Land” of Lamartine. Camille Flammarion wrote “My Cradle,” meaning Champagne; Dumas wrote of Villers-Cotterets, and Chateaubriand and Renan of Brittany; but head and shoulders above them all stand out Frederic Mistral and his fellows of the Félibres at Avignon and Arles.

This is what gives a charm to travel, and even where no new thing is actually discovered, no new pathways broken, there is, after all, a certain zest in such an exploration rivalling that to be obtained from an expedition to the uttermost confines of the Dark Continent, to Tibet, or to Tierra del Fuego.

Primarily, the ancient provinces of France have a story of historical and romantic purport not equalled in the chronicles of any other nation. The distinctive types are but vaguely limned, but the Norman and the Breton stand out most distinctly, and such figures as the Norman and Breton dukes of real history live even more vividly in one’s mind than D’Artagnan and his fellows in the great portrait-gallery of Dumas.

As has been said, each of the great provinces into which France was divided previous to the Revolution possessed characteristics, unmistakable even to-day. As to the topography of any single one, the question is so vast in its detail that more than mention of principal features can hardly be made in a book such as this. It is then perhaps enough that some slight information concerning Brittany and its principal places should be recorded here, and that the chief configurations of its territory should be outlined.

In addition to the principal old-time governments, there were the ancient fiefs and local divisions, and these in many cases had names often encountered in history and literature. Sometimes these were relics of the still earlier day, of Gaul before the Roman conquest, their ancient names having come down through the ages with but little change.

When one is at Chartres, he must be aware that he is on the edge of the great plateau of Beauce,—the granary of France,—and that as he crosses into Brittany—perhaps through Perche, whence come the great-footed Percherons—he enters the country of the ancient Veneti. Farther west lies rock-bound Cornouaille, which in every characteristic resembles Cornwall in Britain; Léon on the north, and finally Penthièvre.

The traveller remakes his history where he finds it. If he have a good memory, this is not a difficult process, but, in any case, the French guide-books, that is to say, those written in French, not the English or Anglo-German variety, are sufficiently explicit as to dates and events to set him on the right track.

Here, in spots all but unknown even in Normandy and Brittany, the traveller finds for himself monuments of a civilization gone before and of a local history not yet completely erased, and as interesting as those of any land made famous by antiquaries whose only claim to fame rests upon their questionable ability in propounding new theories, of which the chief merit is plausibility,—a process of history-making sadly overdone of late in some parts.

Both in Brittany and in Normandy there are innumerable glorious architectural monuments of a past from which history may be builded anew. Character counts for a great deal with cities as with individuals. One can love Rouen as the capital of the ancient Normandy, or Nantes as the capital of Lower Brittany, but he will no more have the same sort of affection for Lyons or for Nice than he will have it for Manchester or for Chicago.

Normandy and Brittany are supposed to be the happy hunting-grounds of cheap tourists and trippers, but, as a matter of fact, the former do not go beyond Dieppe, or the latter beyond the Channel Islands,—with possibly a day excursion to St. Malo,—so no discomfort need really arise from the fear of their presence. Furthermore, the tourists from across Channel that one does meet in Normandy or Brittany to-day are not so outrageous in their dress and manners as the type pictured by Punch.

BRITTANY, the ancient province which underwent such a strife of warfare and bloodshed in the struggle against invaders, and finally against France, has become one of the most loyal of all the old-time divisions making up the present republic. Her struggle against a curtailment of her ancient rights and the attempts to conserve her liberties were futile, and when the Duchess Anne took Louis XII. for her second husband, Brittany became a part of the royal domain never to be separated therefrom.

It was Duguesclin who saved it for France, Duchess Anne who enriched it, Chateaubriand, Lamennais, Laennec, and Renan who made it illustrious in letters, and Duguay-Trouin, Jacques Cartier, Surcouf, Du Couëdic, and many besides who added to all this the spirit of adventure and romance with which the chronicles of Brittany have ever abounded.