The inn Pavilion d'en Haut is particularly comfortable [pg 169] and reasonable, and the people very obliging. Wishing to taste the crêpes we had seen before, they procured some, and gave them to us hot—we thought they resembled a greasy crumpet.
34. Champ des Martyrs. Auray.
Auray is a good central point for visiting the Celtic remains:—menhirs, dolmens, cromlechs, all of which are as plentiful here as are calvaries, shrines, and churches in Léon. They seem all concentrated [pg 170] on these dreary wild landes, sometimes covered with furze bushes, at others strewn along the coast.
Next day we drove to Locmariaker, nine miles from Auray, through Crach. On the right is the river or estuary of that name; over which a bridge is contemplated at La Trinité, to communicate with Carnac. Locmariaker is at the extremity of the peninsula formed by the rivers of Crach and Auray, at the entrance of the Morbihan. It must have been a place of some importance in the time of the Roman occupation of Gaul, as there are the remains of a circus, whose walls now enclose the cemetery, of a Gallo-Roman house, with baths, frescoed walls, and marble pavement. We picked up some fragments of Roman bricks which lie strewn upon the ground in great abundance. Midst these Roman remains are gigantic menhirs, barrows, and dolmens, vestiges of a still more ancient race. Locmariaker has two large tumuli, both vast tombs.
35. Sculptured Stone.
Manné er Hroëck.
Locmariaker.
We first visited the Manné-er-Hroëk, the Montagne de la Fée, or de la Femme, which bears in the marine charts the name of "Butte de César," for it was the fashion with antiquaries to attribute to Cæsar and the Romans every Celtic monument, although bearing no resemblance whatever to any work of these conquerors. The Montagne de la Fée is a galgal or tumulus of elliptic form, about thirty feet high, formed of dry stones. It was [pg 171] opened in 1863, and found to contain a sepulchral chamber or dolmen, outside of which lay a granite stone above three feet long, inscribed with various figures, and, in the middle, a cartouche, with hatchet-shaped characters. There were also found a number of celts (stone hatchets or knives), a green jasper necklace, and some glass beads, which have been transferred to the museum at Vannes. The guide who furnished the light and showed us the grotto is the widow of a Polish officer. She had a Scotch terrier, which she wanted us to accept. The legend of the mound is this:—A widow had the misfortune of losing her only solace, her son, compelled by law to embark for foreign lands. Years rolled by; he did not return. All said he was lost; but the heart of a mother hopes for ever, and the sad Armorican went every day to the point of Kerpenhir, whence she surveyed the ocean, and searched the depths of the horizon with tearful eyes for the purple sail[16] which was to bring joy and peace to her dwelling. One day, when she was returning sad as [pg 172] usual to her desolate home, she was accosted by an old woman, who enquired the cause of her troubles; and, on hearing them, advised her to heap a pile of stones, so that, mounting on the summit, she might see to a greater distance, and perhaps discern the long looked-for vessel. During the whole night the two women worked, and carried in their aprons the stones they gathered on the heath. In the morning their task was finished, and the Bretonne was scared to see the enormous heap that had been piled together; but the other quieted her fears, and helped her to climb to the top, whence soon the happy mother beheld the vessel of her son. The fairy, her assistant, had disappeared. This story evidently bears a vague tradition of this tumulus having been raised by a woman, and of some maritime expedition made by him for whom it was probably destined. The name of fairy is attached in Brittany to everything—mountains, springs, grottoes, rocks; every accident in nature is explained by a fairy origin.
The next object we saw is also attributed to the fairies, the great menhir, called Men-er-Groách, or stone of the fairies. It is the largest menhir known, but it has been broken into three pieces, some say by thunder. Put together, it measures about 67 feet in length, and is 16 feet in diameter. The wonder is how it was placed there, for it is little less [pg 173] than the obelisk of St. Peter's, which took 800 to 900 men and 70 horses nearly a year to raise,—a work which was the great triumph of Fontana the engineer. The menhir is estimated to be one-third the height of Notre Dame at Paris.
Lying also prostrate on the ground, by the side of it, is a smaller menhir, which is, however, above 30 feet long.