Taking a trip to Falaise...an afternoon at the castle with William the Conqueror, Robert le Magnifique and Moustache

Dear friend,

“Advint une fois que le duc Robert estoit à Falaise, si vit la fille d'ung bourgeois de la ville, nommée Arleite. Cette fille fut belle, bonne et gracieuse, et pleut merveilleusement au duc Robert…” read young Clara, haltingly.

She had taken down an old book from the library shelves at the Chateau. It was a rainy morning, and she was worn out by playing cards with her brother, who relentlessly insists on keeping score and hates to lose.

“Who is this Arlette?” she asked.

“Ah,” said l’oncle Henry, taking the heavy tome from her. “Therein lies the tale of Normandy.” He translated the passage:

“And it came to pass one day that Duke Robert was at Falaise, and his eye fell upon a maiden of the town, Arlette. This girl was beautiful, bonny and full of grace, and marvelously pleasing to Duke Robert.”

“History isn’t just about war, Clara. It’s love that turns the tides of man and fate.” He continued the passage:

“Et tant qu'il la volt avoir a amie et la requist moult affectueusement à son père,” he read.

“As as he looked upon her, wanted to love her,” translated Clara. “And begged her father with great affection for her hand.”

“Not exactly her hand,” interjected her brother, with the superior air of one who googles.

“Very true,” admitted Uncle Henry.

“Because the next year,” went on Liam, “William the Conqueror was born. Otherwise known as Guillaume le Bâtard.

“And,” he continued, glancing at his phone. "Arlette was Duke Robert’s frilla more daneco, his concubine in the Danish manner.”

“What does that mean?” asked Clara.

“When the weather clears up, we’ll pack a picnic and visit Falaise,” said Uncle Henry, putting a prompt end to the conversation.

Thus, one day last week we found ourselves gazing up at the gray mass of the Chateau of Falaise, softened slightly by the graceful beams of the summer sun.

The Chateau stands on a spur of sheer rock – “une falaise” -- that rises abruptly out of the plain of Calvados, 40 minutes northwest of Courtomer. It is impressive, forbidding, and brings to mind the lines penned in 1830 by Alphonse Le Flaguais:

Reste majestueux d'une antique splendeur,
Tel qu'un fier souverain qu'offensa le malheur,
Vieilli dans les regrets, mais vieilli sur le trône!

“Majestic relic of an antique splendor,
A proud souverain blasted by misfortune,
Grown old in regrets, but grown old on the throne!”

Le Flaguais, who was born, bred and died in nearby Caen, dedicated his life to capturing local history, tales, monuments and the charms of the Norman countryside in verse. He wrote articles on Norman monuments for the historical and archeological society. And he was the sort of passionate amateur who swelled the movement to protect French heritage in the early 19th century. This movement had been sparked by deliberate destruction during the French Revolution. But in the Revolution's long aftermath, France’s architectural and cultural heritage fell into an increasingly alarming state of decay and neglect. Then, with the Restauration of the Bourbon kings in 1816, the mood changed. The past was no longer “the workshop of crimes,” to quote a Revolutionary speech justifying the destruction of the royal tombs at the Abbey of Saint-Denis.

Heritage was fashionable, and so was a delightfully melancholy appreciation of “antique splendeur.” The Grand Tour of the sites of classical antiquity was already an aristocratic tradition, but tourism of France’s ancient monuments now began to develop. Artists created portfolios, like John Sell Cottman’s popular Architectural Antiquities of Normandy of 1819, depicting picturesque sites to admire. Amateurs took up their sketchbooks.

Meanwhile, not all emigrés had dawdled around the card tables while waiting to return to France. Some had taken up the new field of medieval studies under British scholars. They had visited the Greek and Roman artifacts in the new British Museum, opened in 1759 to “all studious and curious persons.” And they brought with them to France a new understanding of archeology and of how to classify and conserve the monuments of the past.

The epicenter for these new studies in France was Arcisse de Caumont, born in Bayeux in 1801, and a student and then a professor at the University of Caen, just 20 minutes from Falaise. He led the founding of La Société française d'archéologie in 1834, with an explicit mission to save old structures – from the abbey of Mont Saint-Michel to humble rustic granges. Six years later, in 1840, the Chateau de Falaise was listed on the national register of Monuments historiques.

When “the hand of death fell upon” Le Flaguais in 1851, his lyric reputation earned him an obituary in the London Illustrated Times. The poet, noted the Times, produced over “fifty thousand lines of verse…characterized by a warmth of sentiment and a pleasing vein of melancholy.”

But melancholy is too gentle an emotion for the Chateau de Falaise. Its austere grey walls have never been breached, except through treachery or treaty. Bombardments have merely succeeded in destroying the town at its feet.

Like all great disrupters, the conquering Normans were also innovators. The Norman castle, a stone keep surrounded by a thick stone curtain wall impervious to medieval catapults and fire, was a triumph of their ingenuity.

Falaise was perhaps the first of these stone fortresses, built in the 10th century. A generation later, the rebellious Robert le Magnifique held out here against his brother Richard. The siege ended in an amical treaty. That same year, 1027, another happy event took place: Arlette gave birth to Robert’s child, Guillaume, in the town below the castle walls.

“Quand le duc ot faict son plaisir d'elle et il la laissa reposer,” read Clara, who had brought the Chronique des Ducs de Normandie with us to accompany our visit of the castle. Uncle Henry swiftly took the book and translated:

“After Arlette had gone to sleep, the Duke thought of many things and while he thought, the young woman trembled and gave a loud sigh.”

“Monseigneur, dist-elle, je songeoie et ay songié que de mon corps il croissoit un garbre contre le ciel, et que de son ombre toute Northmandie estoit couverte.

C'est bien, dist le duc…Et quand vint le temps que nature requiert, Arleite ot ung fils nommé Guillaume.”

« My lord, said she, I am dreaming and have dreamed that from my body a tree grew against the sky, and with its shadow all Normandy was covered.”

“That is good, said the Duke….And when the time came that Nature requires, Arlette had a son named William.”

William’s shadow not only covered Normandy, of course, it also fell over the British Isles. After defeating the French king’s pretensions to Normandy, and then winning the Battle of Hastings in 1066, the Norman duke was also king of England.

Falaise’s fortunes followed those of the Conqueror and his heirs.

The castle was modified to become a ducal palace under William’s son Henry I Beauclerc, who was king of England and “guardian” of his brother, the imprisoned Duke of Normandy. Alienor of Aquitaine, mother of Richard the Lion-Hearted and Bad King John, spent Christmas here with her husband, Guillaume’s grandson Henry II Plantagenet, king of England and Duke of Normandy. The great Talbot, under Edward III and the Black Prince, commanded here during the 100 Years War. Besieged by Henry IV during the Wars of Religion, the castle was subsequently abandoned as a military site. And except for its Romanesque chapel, the Chateau survived the bombardments of Falaise during the Battle of Normandy in 1944.

The town of Falaise was less fortunate in 1944 and a local museum is dedicated to the civilian experience here during the Battle of Normandy. More than 70% of the town was leveled. Neverthless, Arcisse de Caumont and our poet Le Flaguais would be relieved to know that important medieval buildings still stand. The church of St Gervais, begun by William the Conqueror, was finished by his son Henri Beauclerc and consecrated in 1132. Rebuilt after the siege of 1204, its arched ceiling is a fine example of the Gothic style. The church of La Trinité, continually mutilated by sieges and rebuilt, is a primer of medieval architecture. The statues around the its ambulatory were made by the renowned Renaissance sculptor, Hector Sohier.

La Trinité looks onto the Place Guillaume le Conquérant, where a 19th-century statue of William on horseback brandishes the gonfanon -- the papal banner announcing his right to conquer England. The Place is a good place to enjoy un petit café or an ice cream and you may notice, as did Liam, that on a corner of the church there is a relief of an animal grasping a child in its teeth.

“That’s a bad pig,” said Clara, looking uncomfortable.

“Indeed,” replied Uncle Henry. In 1386, according to a document in the Archives of the Departement de l’Orne, a payment was made to the “bourrel” of Falaise, the public executioner, for hanging a pig. The pig had been tried for murder, found guilty before a judge, and condemned to death. It had partially devoured a baby left in its cradle outdoors.

Liam and Clara were silent.

“On the other hand,” said Uncle Henry, “Falaise is where Moustache was born!”

Moustache was the heroic French barbet who accompanied Napoleon’s armies across Europe, alerting his regiment on several occasions of enemy attacks and spies. He lost a leg at Austerlitz and an ear in a dogfight with a German pointer, was awarded a medal, and had the right to the rations of a grenadier. Legend has it that he momentarily found happiness with a poodle, with whom he had a litter of puppies.

With this cheering thought, we ended our afternoon at Falaise and headed back to the Chateau.

I will be taking "les vacances en famille," enjoying the last days of summer vacation with our family, for the rest of August. I look forward to writing you again à la rentrée, in September, with more news from the Chateau.

With warm regards et bien amicalement!

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P.P. S. With this visit to Chateau de Falaise and its town, our afternoon was full. But Falaise also makes an excellent stop on a daytrip to the Calvados. It is handy to Camembert and the Pays d’Auge to the east. Or you can continue north to Caen and the Normandy Coast. All are within a comfortable hour or two from Chateau de Courtomer.

We hope you will enjoy your outing – and Heather and Beatrice will be happy to offer other suggestions!

PPS. Some dates in 2021 are still available for the Chateau and the newly restored and decorated Farmhouse. We are taking reservations for 2022 and 2023. Please write to Heather or Béatrice (both are bilingual in English and French), or, of course to me, at info@chateaudecourtomer.com.

We look forward to hearing from you!