Saint-Malo suffered greatly in the wars waged between the Kings of France and England. The Earl of Richmond, later Henry VII. of England, in whom ended the Wars of the Roses, was taken to Saint-Malo. He was handed over by the Duke of Brittany to the ambassadors of Richard, who carried him to London to be put to death. He escaped from his guards, and took refuge in the cathedral, asylum quod in eâ urbe est inviolatissimum: the right of sanctuary dated back to the Druids, the first priests of Aaron's isle.
A Bishop of Saint-Malo was one of the three favourites (the others were Arthur de Montauban and Jean Hingant) who killed the unfortunate Giles of Brittany, as may be read in the Histoire lamentable de Gilles, seigneur de Chateaubriand et de Chantocé prince du sang de France et de Bretagne, étranglé en prison par les ministres du favori, le 24 avril 1450.
There exists a fine capitulation between Henry IV. and Saint-Malo: the city treats as between Power and Power, protects those who have taken refuge within its walls, and retains the right, by an order of Philibert de La Guiche, grand-master of artillery of France, to cast one hundred pieces of cannon. Nothing more closely resembled Venice (failing the sun and the pursuit of the arts) than did this little commonwealth of Saint-Malo in religion, wealth, and prowess at sea. It supported Charles V.'s expedition to Africa and came to the aid of Louis XIII. at the Rochelle. It flew its ensign over all the seas, maintained relations with Mocha, Surat, Pondicherry; a company formed in its midst explored the South Sea.
From the reign of Henry IV. onwards, my native city distinguished itself for its devotion and fidelity to France. The English bombarded it in 1693; on the 29th of November in that year, they launched against it an infernal machine, in the wreck of which I have often disported myself with my play-fellows. They bombarded it again in 1758.
The Malouins lent considerable sums of money to Louis XIV. during the war of 1701; in recognition of this service, he confirmed them in their privilege of guarding their own city, and ordered that the crew of the first ship in the Royal Navy should consist exclusively of sailors drawn from Saint-Malo and its territory. In 1771, the Malouins repeated their sacrifice and lent thirty millions to Louis XV.
The famous Admiral Anson[57] landed at Cancale in 1758, and burnt Saint-Servan. In Saint-Malo Castle, La Chalotais wrote upon rags, with the aid of a tooth-pick, soot and water, the Memoirs which made so much noise and which nobody remembers. Events efface events; they are but inscriptions traced upon other inscriptions, making pages of palimpsestic history.
Saint-Malo furnished the Royal Navy with its best sailors; the complete roll may be found in a folio volume published in 1682 with the title: Rôle général des officiers, mariniers et matelots de Saint-Malo. There is a Coutume de Saint-Malo, printed in the collection of the Customary-General. The city archives contain a fair number of charters useful to the study of history and maritime law.
Saint-Malo gave birth to Jacques Cartier[58], the French Christopher Columbus, who discovered Canada. At the other extremity of America the Malouins marked out the islands to which they gave their name: Îles Malouins[59]. It is the native city of Duguay-Trouin[60], one of the greatest seamen ever known, and more recently, of Surcouf[61]. The celebrated Mahé de La Bourdonnais[62], Governor of the Isle of France, was born at Saint-Malo, as were La Mettrie[63], Maupertuis, the Abbé Trublet, of whom Voltaire made sport: all this is not bad for an area not so large as that of the Tuileries Gardens.
Far ahead of these smaller literary lights of my birthplace stands the Abbé de Lamennais[64]. Broussais[65] also was born at Saint-Malo, as well as my noble friend, the Comte de La Ferronnays[66].
The dogs of Saint-Malo.