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.
In the days of old, when each little town had its dignitaries, who may have been counts or who may have been bishops, there was perhaps more individuality than in the present age of monotonous prefects and mayors. Nantes had its dukes, and Rouen had its prelates, and both of them, even to-day, overshadow the civic dignitaries of their time; hence it is the memory of the parts played by them which induces an association of ideas prompting a desire to know personally the ground trodden by them.
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_.
It is a generally recognized fact that no special hardship is involved in modern travel; caravansaries have for the most part given way to inns which, if not exactly palatial, at least furnish creature comforts of a quality quite as good or a great deal better than those to which most travellers are accustomed at home. One may, and most likely will, miss his or her particular brand of tea or tobacco, but will find substitutes quite as excellent, and as far as the language question is concerned, why, that lies at one's own door, unless one wants to go out as a disciple of Esperanto, the modern successor of Volapuk, dead years ago of sheer weight of consonants.