number rise to the height of fixteen, eighteen, or more feet. The rows ftretch along an uneven space of ground, for a couple of English miles, and are confiderably elevated above the fea, although lower than the country behind, commanding an extenfive prospect from Port L'Orient on the west of Quiberon, Belleifle, and other iflands, to the mouth of the Loire on the east. The foil is, in general, fo rocky, that the stones were, in all probability, found at no great distance from their present situations.Several of them are now fallen from their erect position, and many have been carried away by the neighbouring inhabitants for the purposes of building; and the shorter ftones may perhaps have been reduced to their prefent disproportionate fize by fimilar caules. Advantage has also been taken, in many places, of the largest ftones on end, by attaching the corners of houses, windmills, &c. to them, by that method to be fupported against the boifterous gales, which, traverfing the Atlantic Ocean, often blow with irresistible fury on that part of France. The name by which that fingular antique is known in the country, is the Camp de Carnac, and frequently Camp de Céjar, although there be no vestiges of entrenchments, or other fortification, to be seen near it; nor would the position have, in antient times, been esteeined strong. But history, and even tradition, being abfolutely filent as to the cause, the object, or the æra of the erection of the rows, a notion has been propagated, that they were fet up by Julius Cæfar, during his expedition against the Veneti, for the fupport of the tents of his army. To be convinced of the improbability of fuch a fuppofition, without entering into confideration of the nature of the monument itself, the reader has only to confult the third book De Bello Gallico; as well as on the whole of the memorable attack on the Veneti, whose capital, I am fatisfied, from the locality, as described by Cæfar, and other circumftances, and from fundry remains of Roman architecture in the town and high-ways leading towards it, must have been fituated where Vannes * now stands. Towards the middle of the length of the Camp de Carnac, and a little nearer to the fea, on a rifing ground, is a barrow of uncommon fize, composed seemingly altogether of small stones collected from the furrounding grounds: the fummit has been levelled long ago, and on it is a chapel, or small church, dedicated to St. Michael, with a little plain space at its welt end: and Carnac itself feems to have owed both its fituation and its name to another large barrow of the fame kind.* I have faid that the Camp de Carnac is a fingular monument, and fuch I really confider it to be; although some years ago I learned that at Ardeven, a place with evidently a Celtic name, five or fix miles west from Carnac, there is a fmall collection of rude slones, fimilar, and fimilarly fituated, to those I have juft tried to defcribe. As Bretagne, antiently a part of Armorica, † was the principal feat of the Druids of Gaul, it is no wonder that that country should now present us with a multitude of remains of their usages, fimilar to what we observe in Cornwall, Wales, and Scotland. The Celtic language is still univerfally spoken, although with many local variations, under the name of Breton, in all that part of the province lying to the westward of a line beginning at St. Brieux, a fea-port en the English Channel, thirty miles weft from St. Malo, and running foutherly to the mouth of the river Vidane, twenty miles alt from Vannes: so that many stories are told in that district, of Welshmen, Irishmen, and Scotch Highlanders, whole native dialects are all defcended from the original Celtic, and who, whilft prisoners of war, have experienced equal furprize and advantage, from the facility with which they and the inhabitants of Lower Bretagne could interchange their thoughts. With respect to the other Druidical or Celtic antiquities extant in Bretagne, I shall only, with your good leave Mr. Editor, hint what follows. At a place called Locmariaker, fitu ated * Carn, a cairn or barrow, and at, a habitation-an addition to the names of places, very common in Querey, and other parts of France far removed from Bretagne. † Armorica, front the Celtic ar, near, and mor, the fea, with ic, a dwelling; i. e, those who dwell on or near the fea. It is curious that this name is still applied, but with a flight alteration, by the French, to the people who live round the bay of Vannes; thus, Arvoricains. * Vannes is called by the natives, in their dialect of the Celtic, Guënned, pronounced Wenet, from which, no doubt, the Romans forn.ed their Venetia and Veneti. The word I Locmariaker is formed of loc, a place, afon is unknown. is derived from guen, white; but for what and by excellence, a church, Maria, the Virgin ated on the west side of the entrance to the Morbihan, or Bay of Vannes, are two barrows of great size, composed, at leaft externally, and even a good way in, of fmall ftones, and of an oblong shape, Ike those near Carnac, and indeed like all that I ever faw in Bretagne. One of them, it is faid, contains about 4000 cubic toises; that is, would be equal to a regular parallelopiped of 150 feet in length by 75 feet in height, and as much in breadth. But it is quite evident that both barrows are much diminished by the continual carrying away of their materials for various purposes. Again, of antient monuments refemhling what is vulgarly called Kits-coityboufe,† in Kent, the following is an example. About twenty-two miles west from Vannes, and three east from Hennebon, on the road to Port L'Orient, on the fouth fide, is a groupe of large rough ftones, confifting of four placed upright on their edges, of which two form the back, and the other two the fides of the cell, or recefs, (for I am at a lofs for a proper name for it,) with a fifth large one resting on these four, as a roof or cover. The open fide looks towards the eaft. Befides that antique, there are many other stones now lying in confufion on the ground, which feem to have been originally arranged in the fame manner. Of cromlebs, as they are called in Britain, I will notice but one. At Locma riaker, already mentioned, is an oblong stone, called in French La Table, (for its Bréton name 1 have loft,) whose fides are 19 feet 3 inches, 11 feet, 16 feet 6 inches, and 12 feet 4 inches: the thickness in general about 3 feet: the under furface very rough and uneven, but the upper much inore smooth, and on a plane nearly horizontal. This table rests at present on three finall rough stones, one at the narrowest end, and the two others on the fides; befides which there are under the table three other small stones, but not Virgin Mary, and ker, a city: i. e. the church of the Virgin in the city. * The Bay of Vannes is called in Bréton, Morbihan, from mor, the fea, and biban, little; a name extremely applicable to it: for that little fea contains in parvo islands, road steads, creeks, harbours, rivers, fea-ports, salt-marshes, and many other circumstances that go to compose the great ocean. † see the account of the monument at St. Helier in Jersey, which consists of a number of fuch groupes, having a covered paffage, pointing to the east, like that belong now standing so high as to be in contact The small stones are continued beyond the broad end of the table, in two rows, in the direction of those under it, of four stones on one fide, and two on the other; which are croffed by two long rude blocks, forming a fort of covered way or paffage, pointing to the fouthward of east: but the rubbish with which that end is incumbered, prevents its extent from being exactly afcertained. are the Of fingle stones, fo common all over Brétagne, permit me, Sir, to mention these two, as the most remarkable that I faw. At Locmariaker, between the two great barrows, many large stones on ground; but one is of prodigious magnitude, broken into four pieces, perhaps by its fall from an erect position, and now a little funk into the earth. The length of the first piece, counting from the broad end, on which it had stood, is 24 feet 9 inches, of the second 14 feet 5 inches, of the third 8 feet 3 inches, and of the fourth 6 feet 10 inches, in all near 55 feet. As the ftone is a fort of rhombus, I measured the diagonals of the section of the largest end, and found them to be about 12 feet 4 inches by 6 feet 6 inches. Although the largest pieceli es five or fix feet from the next in order, yet the other fragments are feparated one from the other by only a few inches; and the fractures correfpond so well to each other, that there can be no doubt but that the whole originally formed one entire ftone. How much, or if any portion of it yet remains under ground, is to me unknown. The other remarkable stone I have to mention, is still entire and quite erect : it stands in a field a thort mile fouth from Dol, a city in Bretagne, about twelve miles fouth-east from St. Malo, and twentyeight north from Rennes. That frone is, as nearly as I could calculate, twenty-eight or thirty feet high above the furface, and about as much in circumference at the ground. It confifts of four fides, nearly equal, and tapers away gradually to the top. The regularity of its form is fuch, as almost to induce a belief of its having been dressed by art into its present shape; and that the sharp corners, and the afperities of its furface, had been rounded and worn away by the patient but unremitting hand of Time. I was told that various attempts had been made, by digging, to arrive at its lower end, but all without fuccess, pro bably from fear of its falling on the work3 E ing to the great table at Locmariaker. MONTHLY MAC, No. 94. meng men; nor could I learn to what length the diggings had been carried. That very remarkable stone continued to be an object of fuperftitious veneration among the inhabitants of the country round, till about one hundred and fixty years ago, when some worthy paftor of the parish caused a stone-cross to be in ferted in the summit, and by that means provided an innocent falvo for the honest devotees. The field in which it stands is called in French Le Champ Dolent, corrupted from the Celtic terms Do Lan, of the temple; lan being a component part of many names of places in Bretagne; and at Rennes, and fome other towns, are spots still called Champ Dolent, probably from the fame circumstance. It is to be observed, that near the stone of Dol there are none to be found larger perhaps than one's hand; and that the nearest rocks whence such a prodigious block could poffibly have been procured, lie on the fea-shore at least nine or ten miles off, in the bay of Cancalle. Now, Mr. Editor, before I conclude, it seems to be incumbent on me to account in some measure for the difference between the defcription I have attempted to give of the Camp de Carnac, and that furnished to the public by the Traveller in Bretagne, as it is quoted in page 52 of your Magazine for February 1801, and alluded to by the very acute and indefatigable Mr. Pinkerton, in page 252 of his Modern Geography. In the first place, then, I must say that my notes were writ ten out a few days after I had been at Carnac, and that foon afterwards I had an opportunity of correcting them by an account of the fame curious piece of antiquity, given in a work of a learned and ingenious French officer, entitled Recueil d'Antiquités dans les Gaules, pour fervir de fuite aux Ouvrages de M. le Comte de Caylus, published at Paris in 1770, in vol. 4to. by M. de la Sauvagière; fo that I am not much disposed to abandon my own remarks for those of a traveller, who evidently contradicts himself in the course of a few lines for the measurements I made, as before stated, show that the rows of stones were not equidiftant, and the obferver on the spots fees immediately that they are neither strictly parallel, nor in straight lines; nor are the stones at equal distances, one from the other, in the rows how then can they form a quincunx?-Again, he says (which indeed would be most fingular, if there could be any degrees in fingularity) that almost all the stones, or, as he styles them, the columns of the colonnade, are somewhat conical in form, and are fixed with the point downward, so as to give the appearance of a vast block of stone resting on a pivot. That there are fome of the stones in that inverted position, is extremely probable, although I was not struck with the circumstance; but that they are almost all fo, or even generally, or in any noticeable number, I really cannot admit. Such an inverfion would have indicated another in the brains of the erectors, still more unaccountable than the monument itself. With respect to the number of stones, four thousand, I certainly did not count them, but must consider it as too fmall to fill eleven rows of two English miles in length, (instead of one thousand toises, or five quarters of a mile, as the Traveller has it,) at intervals of from twelve to twenty feet. Of the monument mentioned by Mr. Britton, as being in the parish of Duteil, four leagues from Rennes, it was not my fortune to hear; but in the above year, 1787, on my way from Southampton to St. Malo, I had full opportunity to examine the very curious Druidical temple, discovered some time before, on the little hill that overhangs St. Helier, the capital of Jersey, as well as several other crom lebs, standing-tones, cairns, &c. which that charming ifland contains. The whole of the temple was afterwards removed with great care, by the directions of the late worthy Governor, General Conway, and is now to be feen (erected precisely as it was observed when the covering of earth was taken away at St. Helier,) at his villa, Park-place, now the feat of Lord Malmesbury, near Henley-upon-Thames; and plans and views of the whole monument are to be found in the Archæologica of the Antiquities of London. ! During the dark ages which preceded the Reformation, Closterhavn was a celebrated monaftery, the inhabitants of which were not less separated from the world by their fituation than by their vows. The spot chosen for its erection was one of the most retired and most romantic. In the midst of a large forest, that covers an extensive tract of country, is a small valley, furrounded on all fides by lofty mountains, which a fine variety of trees clothes with the most delightful verdure. On one fide a small lake receives the different springs that issue from the mountains, and, on the other, a few well-cultivated fields reward the husbandman's toil with abundant crops, the produce of which supports the inhabitants of the valley. In the midst of this spot was the monastery of Closterhayn founded: during several ages it enjoyed the importance usually annexed at that time to fuch institutions; but, after the Reformation, the building and the revenues were devoted to the more noble purpose of restoring reason to those unhappy beings, whose lot it has been to be bereft of that attribute of man. Clofterhayn is the Bedlam of all that part of Germany; and nearly five hundred persons are there constantly fupported, and, if poffible, enabled to refume their stations in that fociety where they could no longer remain without en dangering the lives or happiness of their fellow-men. The Governor of the inftitution, Von Stamford, is a man who is represented as perfectly fitted for the arduous task he has undertaken, and all his arrangements and regulations bespeak a heart that pants for general happiness, as well as a mind far elevated above the range of mediocrity. I once met him as I was walking among the improvements he has made in the neighbourhood of his refidence; and, if we may judge by his physiognomy, he resembles him whose name no philanthropist can hear without his plans, and heard of his character, induce me to think that the care of fuch an institution could not have been entrusted to a man who would have alleviated more the distresses of those who are fubmitted to his direction, and that few would have discharged so well duties so extensive and important. The unhappy objects of his attention seemed to be divided into three claffes. The first consists of those who are not deprived of their reason to any dangerous degree. These can enjoy liberty without disturbing the tranquillity of the town. Such are under no restrictions as all. Those whom age or infirmities have debilitated, content themselves with wandering in the place, or in the neighbourhood, while others perform different little offices for the inhabitants, and render themselves in some degree useful. If they ever abuse the favours granted them, they are punished by a small stone being furpended to their arm, or, if they are guilty of any greater offence, which indicates that their infani may be prejudicial to their companions, a larger stone is fixed. to their ancle, which ferves as a badge of dishonour, and prevents exertions, the effects of which might be pernicious. At morning, noon, and night, they afsemble in a large apartment to partake of their meals: the chaplain then reads prayers, to which most of them are very attentive. Many take their provisions to their homes, or enjoy them seated on branches before the different doors of the building. The next class confifts of perfons of an higher fituation in life. Apartments, upon the whole neat and pleasant, are provided for them, where they enjoy every pleasure which perfons in their distressed situations can expect, or are capable of sharing.I visited several, and faw their employments. At different intervals they are enabled to carry on some trade in articles useful to the place, which they render profitable to themselves and their friends. The third class is composed of persons with whom confinement has been the necessary refult of the last stage of infanity. They are excluded from fociety, to prevent the numerous ills that might originate from their prefence. Their ditordered looks, haggard air, distorted eyes, and inconfiftent actions, render their appearance terrible: fome I faw continually weeping; others realising the picture drawn by Gray, of revering-Mr. Howard. What I faw of Some were inceffantly raving, while "Moody madness laughing wild "Amid feverest woe." 3 Ez otners others, at the appearance of every stranger, ran to hide themselves in a corner, oftrich-like concealing their heads, and thinking themselves invisible. The lonely cells they inhabit, where the rattling of their chains is almost the only found that meets their ears, would be the abodes of defpair, if infenfibility to the keenest woes, and even a high degree of imaginary blifs, were not almost conftant attendants on the violent paroxyfms of madness. At those intervals when Reafon refumes her sway in fome imall degree-when the maniac loses his rage, and becomes the idiot, these un fortunate men are admitted to the favours which the first class shares, and a temporary freedom appears to afford fome relief till the epoch of infanity returns. Such is the manner in which these three classes are treated. Many have been fully Testored to the use of their reason, and have returned to the stations they for merly occupied in fociety. What more convincing proof can be found of the kind ness of the treatment they have received, than this-that many who have been perfectly recovered, have willingly paffid the remainder of their days in that retirement, and even requested it as a favour the greatest and most important? Such a fact furely proves the utility of the insti. tution, and speaks highly to the honour of its director. It is not the unhappy captive of the Bastille, who, after having lingered during a song feries of years in clofe confinement, retufes to return into a fociety, where all is loft that could endear existence, or give joy to life:-no, it is the gratetul man, to whom the world can afford no greater bliss, than that which he feels amid those scenes, where he has received the greatest of all bleffings, and where the kindness of his benefactor presents to him the fairest prospect of futurity, and the hope of a comfortable fubfiftence. It is not the extensive institution alone, which I have just defcribed, that renders Clofterhayn interesting; the beauties of its neighbourhood, and the improvements made there, are highly attractive, particularly as they are rendered conducive to the great end to which the town is devoted. During several years Von Stamford has been blending the efforts of Art with those of Nature, and has thus heightened the charms which furrounded the pace. In the foreft that covers the fides and towering heads of the mountains, the e raptured eye meets continually delight tul icenes, or finds new objects on which it pauses with pleasure. Here it over looks the valley, where the tall spire of the old monastery church, the feattered houses of the town, and the scenes which border on the lake, appear in the molt pleasing forms; while on another fide an opening in the trees presents tome enchanting view, or fome diftant castle that crowns a rude and lofty rock. Sometimes a garden blooms, furrounded by ancient oaks-an urn, with tome inscription, appears in the midst of a verdant lawn-or a tomb, dedicated to the memory of fome Teuton hero, is seen in the dark shade of encircling trees. These improvements have converted the wild forest into a garden, without depriving it of those charms which Nature had given it, or of that folitude which is the fource of fo much delight to minds that love reflection, and hearts that can feel the joys of retirement-while the banks of the lake below have alike received new beauties from the hand of Art. Arched walks, variegated flowers; urns dedicated to the Naïads, to Friendship, and the manes of Tischbein; a retired hermitage, and springs whole repeated cafcades form a delightful mufic to the ear of contemplation as they fall over the artificial rocks that impede their course, compose the chief ornaments of the garden which is formed here, and has taken the place of the marthes which once bounded the lake. The permiffion of wandering among these scenes must undoubtedly add much to the pleasures which the enjoyment of liberty affords those to whom it is granted: but the hours they spend there are not intended to procure temporary relief alone: Von Stamford endeavours in this manner to promote the great work of reftoring reason, by a plan, I believe, entirely new. Infane perfons are often given to romantic thoughts and elevated ideas: refistance renders them till firmer; but objects congenial to fuch fentiments-objects that are adapted to touch the finest chords that move their hearts, awaken attention-reflection follows near, and paves the way to the recovery of reason. The beauties of Nature, and those delightful scenes which furround Closterhayn, are particularly calculated to produce an astonishment and transport in the minds of lunatics, that may operate powerfully upon them, where medical aid employs in vain the fruit of the deepest researches. He whose difordered intellects still retain a love of Nature, will brood over the prospects which appear from the fummits of the mountains; he whose enthusiastic ardour places him in that æra, when the Teuton chiefs obtain. ed |
