The church is very elaborate and fanciful, cruciform and sixteenth century, in the Renaissance style, much decorated with sculptures in dark Kersanton stone. The word Kersanton is Breton for St. Anthony's House; therefore we may suppose that the Saint had his house, and possibly his pig-stye, built of this same stone. For, as we know, St. Anthony had a weakness for pigs, and was famous for recovering one of his favourites from the devil, who had stolen it: recovered it not quite undamaged, as the animal was restored with his tail on fire: a base return for the Saint's politeness, who had offered his petition in poetical terms to which his audience could scarcely have been accustomed.
"Rendez-moi mon cochon, s'il-vous-plait,
Il faisait toute ma félicité,"
chanted the Saint, and to restore the pig with his tail on fire was conduct worthy only of fallen spirits.
But let us leave the Saint's pigs and return to our sheep.
The Kersanton stone, of which so many churches in Brittany are built, possesses many virtues, but one great drawback. It defies the ravages of time, yet is admirable for carving, yielding easily to the chisel. But time has no influence upon it. Centuries pass, yet still it remains the same: ever youthful, ever hard and cold. It knows nothing of the beauty of age; it does not crumble or decay, or wear away into softened outlines; it takes no charm of tone; no lights and shadows. A dark grey-green it was originally, and so it remains. Thus, in point of effect, a church built of Kersanton stone two centuries ago might, as far as appearance goes, almost have been built yesterday. This is a great defect; and interferes very much with the charm of some of Brittany's best churches. It is hard, cold and severe, without refinement, poetry or romance.
In some cases it atones somewhat by its richness and elaborateness of sculpture, as in the case of St. Thégonnec. The west front of this church is Gothic, of the fourteenth century. One of the turrets has a small, elegant spire, and at the S.W. angle there is a very effective domed tower bearing the date 1605.
You enter the churchyard by a triumphal arch, in Renaissance dated 1587. It is large and massive, with a great amount of detail substantially introduced, its summit crowned by a number of crosses. On the frieze St. Thégonnec is represented conducting a waggon drawn by an ox: a facsimile of the waggon that is said to have assisted in carrying the stone to build the church. St. Thégonnec is the patron saint of all animals, and to him the peasants appeal for success and good-luck in such matters.
Adjoining the triumphal arch is a Flamboyant ossuary or mortuary chapel, dated 1581, richly gabled, in perfect preservation, and of two storeys. The first consists of semicircular arches supported by small pillars with Corinthian capitals. A short staircase within leads to a crypt converted into a small chapel, in which is an entombment formed of life-size figures carved in wood, gilded and painted, bearing date 1702. The calvary in the churchyard, a remarkable monument, completes the history, by a multitude of small statues representing all the principal episodes of the Passion. Its date is 1610. Even the crosses are surmounted by statuettes, as if the designer had not known how to heap up sufficient richness of ornamentation. The carved pulpit in the interior of the church is also remarkable.
We could only devote an hour to St. Thégonnec; Guimiliau had still to be seen, and we wished to be back in Morlaix by a certain time, for "the night cometh." Fortunately the drive was not a long one.
Guimiliau is a village not half the size of St. Thégonnec, and is even less civilized. Into the inn, which no doubt is respectable, but was rough and primitive, we did not venture. The driver and the landlord were apparently on excellent terms, and whilst they fraternised over their glasses, we inspected the church.