Cathedral Cities of France Part 6

Outside the town the river winds smoothly away past the cool quiet of the public gardens, to join its tributaries and cut its silver channels through the distant water-meadows.

"The route lay along the plateau until the heights were reached which enclose the valley of the Loir; the road winds down to the river beside hanging woods, red with autumn leaves not yet fallen, and crowned with a ridge of firs. A corner is turned and Vendome comes in sight, lying beneath the shelter of the old ruined castle on the hill. As the hors.e.m.e.n enter the town the people all come to the doors of their houses and gaze with every sign of interested curiosity. There is an anxious expression in their faces. They do not welcome, though they obey their visitors with alacrity. They bring forth bread and meat and wine, and lay the tables for breakfast, but good cheer they have none to give."--_The Times_: "Prussian Occupation of Vendome."

Chapter Twelve

ORLeANS, BOURGES, AND NEVERS

"The thought that the name of the city itself is most likely to call up is that of the Maid who, born far away from Orleans, has taken its name as a kind of surname.... We have got into a way of thinking ... as if Orleans had its chief being as the city of the Maid." Orleans certainly does share with Rouen the chief honours of a.s.sociation with Joan of Arc, the "Victrix Anglorum," as she is described on a memorial tablet in the Cathedral, and the town is equally full of monuments to her memory, though the memory in this case is that of a great triumph, whereas at Rouen it marks the last stage, captivity and death.

Orleans was the key of central and southern France, and if the English once got possession of it they would certain overrun all the land south of the Loire; hence its importance to France as a stronghold. Joan set out from Blois late in April, 1429, in charge of a convoy of provisions for the beleaguered city, and arrived opposite the town, on the left bank of the Loire.

From November to the end of April the English had lain before the town, and, although the inhabitants were not actually starving, provisions were very scanty, and the bringing in of fresh supplies was practically an impossibility, since the usual means of approach, the bridge across the Loire, was blocked by the enemy, who occupied the outstanding fortress of Les Augustins at the bridge, and on the right bank. On the Orleans bank the English had built several strong _bastilles_, guarding the city and effectually preventing any communication by means of the western highways. The weak spot was on the east side, where the besiegers had one stronghold only, the fortress of Saint Loup; and from this point Dunois, the general-in-chief, and La Hire, the leader of Joan's army, intended to effect an entrance; but the Maid herself, with that love of directness which characterises her whole career, desired to attack the English, not at their strongest, but at their weakest point.

Both wind and stream were against their ferrying over to Saint Loup; and in the end Joan's simple tenacity and childish belief in the counsel of her "voices" carried the day. The army was sent back to Blois, there to cross to the right bank and attack Orleans from the west, and meanwhile she herself, the wind having turned, crossed in a boat by night and entered the town with La Hire and Dunois. She was hailed by the people of Orleans as an angel of deliverance, and lodged in the house of the treasurer Boucher, near the Porte Regnart at the north-west angle of the city walls; and from this vantage point Joan watched the enemy's movements, appearing from time to time upon the ramparts and bidding defiance to the English, who, as was perhaps natural, retorted by showering insults upon her. On May 4 she rode out in full state to meet her army which had arrived from Blois. Three days later the great fight began. All this time the English troops had scarcely moved a finger to hinder the French operations, but when the enemy crossed the river by a bridge of boats and made a feint of attacking the fortress on the left bank, retreating apparently in confusion, the English sallied forth after them, thus provoking a real attack upon the bridge fort. During the fray the girl-leader was wounded; never for a moment did she give in, but stood in the fosse grasping the white banner--sword she would not wield--and cheering on her companions; with the result that by nightfall the position was gained, the English were driven out, and Joan returned in triumph into Orleans by the bridge. The greater part of her victory was now accomplished. On the following day the French forces marched outside the walls of the town to meet the English line; but Talbot and his men had not reckoned with what they, in the superst.i.tion of their time, believed to be "a force not of this world," and the morning light shone upon their helmets and spears in full retreat towards the north. France was saved, and a clear field was left for Charles the Dauphin--the gates of his kingdom were flung open wide, that he might enter in and possess it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ORLeANS]

But the greatness of Orleans belongs to an earlier day, before Joan heard the voices in the Domremy meadows, probably before Domremy ever existed. It was Attila the Hun who indirectly brought the town up the ladder of fame. Aurelianum in the fifth century was a desirable stronghold, and as such, Attila spied it afar from his Asiatic plains, and set out to conquer, and, as one authority has it, to "vainly besiege" it, though Freeman inclines to the opinion that "the business of West Goth and Roman was, in the end, not to keep them (the Huns) out, but to drive them out." However that may be, Attila was eventually forced to give up his project, and Aurelianum emerged from the struggle glorious and triumphant, to become the seat and stronghold of kings, and, until its union with Paris in 613, the capital of a separate kingdom. Since then it has been the scene of siege, martyrdom and persecution, down to the days of the Franco-Prussian war, when it finished an eventful history by a Prussian occupation in October, 1870, a sequel to the battles of Patay and Bonbay.

Orleans is beautifully placed on a hillside overlooking the Loire. With this physical advantage, and its long list of historical a.s.sociations, one cannot help feeling that it might have done better for itself, and have become more than just a quiet, un.o.btrusive and rather dull city, with all its monuments easily attainable. The Cathedral is an example of the last lingering phase of Gothic architecture, and was rebuilt, so we are told--after its destruction by the Huguenots--during the interval between 1600 and 1829. The building as a ma.s.s has great merit, for the architects have made an effort to clothe it with dignity, and one feels that the church itself is conceived in a spirit to make it, certainly at a distance, not unworthy of the stronghold of Clovis and his successors.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HOUSE OF JACQUES CUR, BOURGES]

The train which we took from Orleans to Bourges was slow enough to enable us to look out, almost as easily as from a _voiture_, at the richly wooded country. Here and there a small pyramidal church tower peeps out from the trees, but, as a rule, there is little sign of life in this pleasant country, and even the fields and the gorse-covered commons are bare of sheep and cattle. This _train-d'omnibus_, in discharge of its functions as a mail train, distributed letter-bags at every station. Here were waiting young girls acting as postmistresses, many of whom had come from a considerable distance, having ridden on bicycles, bare-headed, in the scorching sun, along dusty roads, to deliver up their heavy loads and to enjoy a chat with the travelling postman, who was evidently welcomed by them as bringing all the latest bits of gossip along the line.

About a mile away there is a very beautiful view of the town, and the general effect is a grey one. Roofs and houses--the latter perhaps originally built of yellow-white stone--have all weathered to a beautiful grey, and there is an air of mediaevalism about the place.

Bourges, indeed, like many other towns in France, goes back to early days for its greatness, and belongs far more to the past than to the present. The fifteenth century saw it at the height of its fame as a king's residence; Charles VII., perhaps finding the more northerly towns too hot for him during the English occupation, took up his abode there and became for the time being "King of Bourges"; and Louis XI. founded a university in the town.

Here was born the famous Bourdaloue, and Boucher, the painter of Versailles before "le Deluge," Boucher who was

"a Gra.s.shopper, and painted-- Rose-water Raphael--_en couleur de rose_, The crowned Caprice, whose sceptre, nowise sainted, Swayed the light realms of ballets and bon-mots; Ruled the dim boudoir's _demi-jour_, or drove Pink-ribboned flocks through some pink-flowered grove,"

and who now, his Gra.s.shopper days ended, lies buried beside his mother in the Church of Saint Bonnet.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOURGES]

Perhaps the princ.i.p.al interest of old Bourges centres in the name of Jacques Cur, the merchant prince, "a Vanderbilt or a Rothschild of the fifteenth century," who in his days of prosperity built a great house on the hill-side where his native town stands. Cur, we are told, founded the trade between France and the Levant; later he became Master of the Mint in Paris, and one of the Royal Commissioners to the Languedoc Parliament. He was three times sent on an emba.s.sy to foreign powers, notably to Pope Nicholas V. Charles VII., weak, unstable, and always in need of money, relied on him absolutely, but with the usual characteristics of a weak master, was one of the first to desert and despoil him of his wealth when occasion offered. The beginning of the end came through a disgraceful and apparently quite unfounded accusation against Cur at the time of the death of the famous Agnes Sorel, whom he was accused of poisoning. Jacques was too prosperous not to have enemies, and these were, as usual, prompt to use every opportunity against him. The first steps taken, calumnies of all kind poured in to defame the man whom France had once delighted to honour, and the rest of his career is a strange mixture of exile, mysterious captivity, and equally mysterious escape, honourable reception in Rome, and friendship with the Pope; the last scene of all, perhaps the strangest and most foreign to all idea of a peaceful, prosperous merchant--for here we see him in command, not of a fleet of trading ships laden with merchandise, but of vessels of war sent against the Turks by Pope Calixtus III.

Rumour has it that, far from dying in poverty and sorrow, Jacques Cur, at the end of his life, had acquired greater riches than when at the zenith of his fame in France, but the fact remains that he died in exile, with a cloud over his memory which was not cleared away until many years after, when popular favour again smiled on his name, and he became, what he remains to this day, the citizen-hero of Bourges.

There is a very charming description--too long to quote here--in Mr.

Henry James' "Little Tour in France" of the house of Jacques Cur; and one point of interest attaching to it is that it is built upon the old defences of the town, and at the back are many considerable remains of solid Roman bastions.

It is one of the most beautiful types of a fifteenth-century town-house that can possibly be imagined--a veritable remnant of the ancient prosperity of Bourges, of a time when such houses were no uncommon feature in the streets--when men who had made their fame and fortune loved to build for themselves a beautiful home in their native town, and enrich it with every conceivable ornament. Modern _nouveaux riches_ indeed do the same, though perhaps not in their native place, where their memory as butcher or baker might, in their eyes, tell against them; but the difference between their "mansions" and the hotel of Jacques Cur is the difference between an age when the Renaissance was in its early freshness and an age when it has suffered the degradations of many modern horrors in the style that is popularly designated "handsome." No one looking upon the delicate sculptures, the wonderful wood carving, the courtyard with its cloister, the lovely porticos and galleries, can doubt the taste of the man who built and lived in this "maison pleine de mysteres."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MUSeE CUJAS, BOURGES]

The Cathedral of Bourges, which, as Freeman points out, is essentially French, although at the head of the Aquitanian churches, is well seen in approaching the town, where it rises above a base of grey tiles and warm white walls--a long flank of choir and nave, unbroken by transepts. The thrust of the heavy vaulting is stopped by a perfect forest of flying b.u.t.tresses, between whose walls are built chapels, either for chantries or family monuments. From inside the town it is not much in evidence until one ascends the Rue Royale, where one comes upon it quite unexpectedly at the end of what Mr. Henry James calls a "short vague lane," somewhat in the same manner as one comes upon St. Paul's bursting into view at the top of Cheapside.

The absence of transepts accounts naturally for the want of any central tower or lantern, and as there are no heavy transept pillars supporting the arches at the crossing, to intercept the view, the elevation of the Host is visible to every worshipper, and the eye travels in one sweep through nave and choir to the beautifully jewelled windows of rich old gla.s.s, ranging from the twelfth to the seventeenth century. The east terminal vaulting springs so low as to mask part of the side-lights of the apse. This is also very noticeable in the east end of Sens Cathedral, the beauty of whose windows is marred by the vaults cutting across the heads of the lights. At Bourges, however, the spandril or cheek of the vault is pierced by a foliated light, showing a certain amount of the window behind, and thus taking away the appearance of depression in the low springing vaulting of the apse.

It is easily recognised that in point of historical importance Nevers, in comparison with some of its neighbours, dwindles almost into insignificance, and to the traveller coming from Orleans and Bourges, fresh from the scene of the triumphs of Joan of Domremy, and from the seats of French kings when France was at the height of her power, there may be a slight sense of disappointment at not finding the same historical "lions" at Nevers. History, though not pa.s.sing over the town entirely, has only touched it with a gentle hand, and Nevers, though possessed of plenty of material for making itself a name, has never really risen very far above being the capital of the Nivernais. It existed in Roman days under the Celtic name of Noviodunum; Caesar made use of it as a military depot in his Gallic campaign, and thought the town was of sufficient importance to be a storehouse for the imperial treasure; its countship dates from the tenth century, and it became the seat of a bishop, although later than many of the Auvergne cities. Yet the counts of Nevers never made a stir in the world, as did Odo and Thibaut of Chartres, or the Fulks and Geoffreys of Angers, and nowhere on its ecclesiastical roll do we find a name like Hilary of Poitiers or Martin of Tours. Despite these early deficiencies, however, Nevers has much to interest the casual visitor, and there are four princ.i.p.al attractions--the Cathedral of St. Cyr, the Romanesque church of St.

Etienne, the ducal palace (now the Palais de Justice), and the Porte du Croux.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HoTEL-DE-VILLE, NEVERS]

The early church of St. Etienne, begun in 1063, is a fine example of a Romanesque building. It is also a very severe example, with a nave of round-headed pier arches, double-arcaded triforium and small clerestory lights. The bays of the nave are modified in the choir by the pier arches being stilted, by a small triple-lighted triforium, and by more importance being given to the clerestory windows. There are, also, monolithic columns and hollow-necked capitals, which are unusual in France. The church is covered by a barrel vault, the crossing of the transepts being crowned by a dome. Mr. Spiers, in his book on "Architecture East and West," says: "The French builders of the South of France have always had the credit of being the originators of the barrel vault, with its stone or tile roof, absolutely incombustible, lying direct on the vault; to them also, I contend now, we owe the development of the dome, with its pendentives set out in a manner peculiar to themselves, and in no way corresponding to those found in the East."

The Cathedral of St. Cyr is the only church in France--with the exception of Besancon--which possesses an apse at both the east and west ends. St. Gall in Switzerland, Mittelzall, Laack and many other German churches show this remarkable plan of a western tribune or paradise. In some instances it was used as a tomb-house, with entrance from without by means of a staircase. In the old basilicas, however, the tribune was not unfrequently at the west end, so that the officiating priest could at the same time face the east and also his congregation. The crypt at the west end, with its fine Romanesque capitals, is very interesting, and dates from the early part of the eleventh century, being about contemporary with that of the Cathedral of Auxerre. The original church, with its two transept arches of the same date, was lengthened eastwards in the thirteenth century, and later on had the further addition made of a choir with an apsidal termination; the chancel and nave are not separated by transepts, but the two merge quietly into each other by simple contact.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PORTE DU CROUX, NEVERS]

One afternoon, while contemplating this strange church, our attention was diverted from arch and apse by the rustle of a small bridal procession entering by a side door and being received by a priest who was waiting at an altar in one of the chapels. After some formalities of examining the certificate of civil registry, the ceremony began; and it was very interesting in its brevity and friendliness. In the English church the priest addresses the princ.i.p.als, with a kind of austere familiarity, by their Christian names, be they princes or paupers. But here such a liberty is rendered impossible by the natural social politeness of the French, and the contracting parties are reminded of their marriage obligations under the courteous appellations of Monsieur and Mademoiselle.

The ducal palace is quite close to the Cathedral. "We find," Freeman says, "the two great central objects, State and Church, sitting becomingly side by side." The ducal days of Nevers date only from the end of the sixteenth century, when Francois Ier, with his usual love of display, bestowed a peerage upon the Nivernais. Before this its feudal overlords went by the more mediaeval t.i.tle of count, and the palace (built a century before the count became a duke) has reared itself upon the foundation of their ancient stronghold. The fourth attraction of Nevers, the high square gateway tower known as the Porte du Croux, may also be regarded as a relic of feudal days, seeing that it dates from 1398, and was evidently part of the town's defences. It is a n.o.ble specimen of mediaeval defence, a tall gateway tower, protected, like the Porte Guillaume at Chartres, by its ancient fosse--long lancet openings running up above a low round archway and two pointed turrets flanking the hatchet-shaped central roof, with the treacherous line of machicolation below. In the middle of the sixteenth century Nevers pa.s.sed to an Italian master, one of the Gonzagas of Mantua, from whom, a hundred years later, Mazarin bought it back again, and left it at his death to the Mancini family, who held it until the Revolution.

Most French towns nowadays fill their shops with a display of local pottery, good, bad and indifferent; the industry of Nevers, however, is an old-established one, dating from the occupation of these very Gonzagas, who came from a land where the faence industry, as well as gla.s.s-blowing, was fully developed as a fine art, and who founded in their domain a school of artists which should teach their secrets to France. The industry has remained in the town ever since, and some of the modern work is very charming, with its curious trade-sign, the little green arabesque knot or _nud vert_, which some fanciful spirit designed for the sign of Nevers.

Chapter Thirteen

MOULINS, LIMOGES, AND PeRIGUEUX

From Nevers an expedition to Moulins is quite practicable, and the traveller _en route_ to Limoges may think it worth his while to pay a visit to this town, which stands as a monument to the fallen house of Bourbon. In the fourteenth century the dukes of Bourbon made Moulins their residence, and stayed there until the desertion of the Constable to the cause of Charles V., when the city was annexed by the French king, Francois Ier, in an access of righteous indignation. The "Tour de l'Horloge," which is the main feature of the town, and looks more like a Dutch belfry than a French design, formed part of the old chateau belonging to this same Constable; and it may be supposed that not only were his lands confiscated, but his castle destroyed, by way of punishment for his alliance with the English king and the German emperor.

The story of this Constable de Bourbon is an interesting one. He belonged to the Montpensier branch of the Bourbon family, and in 1505 married Suzanne de Beaujeu, heiress of the reigning line, so that the t.i.tle of duke and the rich Bourbon estates pa.s.sed into his possession, and therewith Charles became one of the most brilliant figures in an age of brilliancy and magnificence. His handsome person and military talents had even in early youth gained him a place amongst the foremost gentlemen of France; but his marriage brought him such an access of wealth and influence that even Louis XII. trembled for the safety of his throne, and refused to risk any increase in his popularity by giving him command of the Italian army. In 1515, however, when the Duc d'Angouleme came to the throne as Francois Ier, Bourbon was made Constable of France, and for a time seemed to have attained to all that Fortune could give him. He was the close friend of the king, and in an era of lavish display that came with the first Francois, and did not wholly disappear until it was swept away by the hand of the Revolution, no favours seemed too great, no honours too high, for the brilliant and much-envied favourite. To such a height did Charles de Bourbon reach, that one can, indeed, hardly wonder at his fall, which was bound to come sooner or later, and when it did come was all the greater, all the swifter, from the very might of his power at court. The mischief arose in the first place through the jealousy of the king's mother--reports and scandals were in the air, and Francois was not slow to take note of them--and of the growing distrust of his favourite at court. Quarrels arose between King and Constable. Presently the evil reports took definite shape, and grew into the grossest of insults; and as soon as it was seen that Bourbon had lost the King's favour all tongues were loosened against him. Added to these troubles, he was engaged in a lawsuit with the mother of Francois, the d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme, who on the death of his wife Suzanne claimed the heirship to all his estates and fortune. As may be imagined, on the principle of striking a fallen man, the case went against him, and the great duke found himself friendless and penniless, with large sums owing to him from the State, but with little hope of payment. Men in those days were not over-chivalrous, and the idea of clinging still to an ungrateful, ungenerous sovereign who had cast him off like an old glove did not commend itself to a nature like that of Charles de Montpensier. He resolved, since France would have none of him, to try his fortune with Germany, and accordingly joined the cause of Charles V., to whom for a time he gave his best service, and then, finding the imperial promises, too, like the proverbial pie-crust, determined to carve out honours for himself and find a kingdom in Italy. He marched to Rome with a division under his command, and made a bold attack upon the city walls, but an arrow from the ramparts, shot, so one story goes, by Benvenuto Cellini, the famous sculptor and court musician to the Pope, put an end to his ambition, and the Constable died in harness outside the walls of Rome at the very outset of his gallant attempt to cast off the yoke of kings and make his fortune by his own sword.

Of Bourbon's chateau there remains only the tower bearing the curious name of the Mal-Coiffee, and a Renaissance pavilion--an appendage found in the castle of every great n.o.ble of this time.

In the eleventh century Moulins was one of the more southerly fortresses to hold out against William of Normandy. It had been commanded by a certain Wimund, who surrendered it to Henry, the French king. As an important outpost it was garrisoned strongly and put under the command of Guy of Geoffrey, Count of Gascony, presently to become William VIII.

of Aquitaine. The Norman duke, however, was advancing upon Arques, which was within an ace of surrender from hunger, and with little difficulty he obtained terms from the garrison. News of this defeat soon flew to Moulins, and its commander seems to have been instantly seized with an access either of panic or of prejudice--the two bore a curious relation in those days--and without giving the Normans time so much as to come within sight of the town, he withdrew his garrison and left Moulins with all speed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MOULINS]

The Cathedral at Moulins has a curious misfit of nave and chancel. The former is of the thirteenth century, with a high clerestory and rather low triforium arches; the latter is Flamboyant, with a flat wall termination to the east end, and seems to have been built without any regard to the pre-existing nave; at any rate, the main piers do not meet, and a small bay of no particular style is introduced literally as a stop-gap.

An excellent hotel--the "Central"--makes Limoges a convenient stopping-place on the southern road, irrespective of its attractions to those interested in faence and enamel work; but there are plenty of other interests within the town, and Limoges may, indeed, speak for itself in this respect, by reason of its standing on a hill, overlooking a river, and containing, in the old quarter at least, ancient houses and crooked streets enough to satisfy any craving for the picturesque. The town slopes up a hill rising from the Vienne, and really divides into two distinct parts, _ville_ and _cite_; the _ville_ is the newer town straggling up the slope, while the _cite_, the original camping-ground of the Lemovices, occupies the quarter near the river. So distinct were these two in the Middle Ages that we even read of war between them as between two separate states, the _ville_ led by the abbot of Saint Martial, the _cite_ by the bishop. The great church of the river quarter is the Cathedral of Saint Etienne, built, so tradition has it, upon the remains of a former church erected by Saint Martial, and dating from 1273-1327, with a few later alterations. The west end terminates in the substructure of an old Romanesque campanile, resting on pillars. "The lowest story," says Freeman, "after a fashion rare but not unique, stood open. Four large columns with their round arches supported a kind of cupola." Under the choir is a crypt, dating from the eleventh century, and thus at each end of the later church is a relic of an older time.

Limoges had formerly been favourable to the English, but since the dukes of Berri and Bourbon had laid siege to the town, and had been aided by Bertrand du Guesclin, the inhabitants, including the bishop and the governor, gave up their somewhat wavering allegiance and turned to France. On hearing of this defection the Prince of Wales flew into a great pa.s.sion and "swore by the soul of his father, which he had never perjured, that he would not attend to anything before he had punished Limoges; and that he would make the inhabitants pay dearly for their treachery." The price they had to give was the safety of their city.

Edward marched upon Limoges from Cognac with a large force; but the new masters had garrisoned the town so strongly that it was impossible to take it by a.s.sault. He therefore resolved upon another and a more terrible way. He undermined the fortifications, and set fire to the mine, so that a great breach was made. Froissart describes the inhabitants of the town as very repentant of their treachery, but adds poignantly that their penitence did little good, now that they were no longer the masters; and certainly it was not rewarded by mercy. The English troops rushed into the breach and poured down the narrow streets, ma.s.sacring right and left, plundering and burning, sparing neither women nor children; and when the Prince at last turned back to Cognac, he left behind him ruin and desolation where, a few days before, had been strength and prosperity. During this terrible time the Church of Saint Etienne happily escaped from damage, although all the rest of the old town--"old" even in 1370--seems to have been destroyed. An interesting reminder of more modern history remains in the name of one of the streets. The Cathedral is connected with the Place Jourdan by the "Rue du 71^{ieme} Mobiles"; and this street is so named in recognition of the valour shown by this regiment in the field, and in the memory of those killed during the Prussian war. It is an a.s.surance that their heroism and endurance in a hopeless struggle are not forgotten, and that an equal devotion to their country will be shown, should the need arise, by succeeding generations of their fellow-citizens. Monuments are not readily subscribed for, nor are places where they may be erected easily found. A permanent testimony to the gallant services of a regiment might be borne by calling a street after its name. London accorded a great welcome to its volunteers at the termination of the Boer war. Is there any street or place called after the name of the City Imperial Volunteers?

[Ill.u.s.tration: LIMOGES]

In a cathedral city like Limoges, where the church itself has a good deal of interest and the town is not devoid of attraction, one is not readily inclined to place its industrial interests very high on the list of things to be seen; yet the fact remains that in this particular place the chief industry is closely bound up with the town's history. The Limoges school of enamel workers had attained celebrity as early as the twelfth century, when the _champ-leve_, or engraving process, was in vogue, the ground-work of the plates consisting of graven copper and the cavities filled in with enamel. This kind of work may well be seen in Westminster Abbey upon the tomb of Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke. In the fourteenth century France borrowed from Italy the art of transparent enamelling, which the artists at Limoges developed into enamel-painting, and this branch was carried on at Limoges for upwards of two centuries, until it fell into decay under Louis XIV. and gave place to the modern miniature style.