In
the Treasury are several pieces of plate, among which is a Renaissance
chalice, with six canopied statuettes of Apostles forming the knop; and a
cross of the same period, a chasse of St. Gildas, his head and arm both
encased in silver reliquaries. His tomb is in the church. Encrusted in
the wall outside the church are the figures of two knights on horseback in
mailed armour, conical Norman helmets, long pointed shields, and lances in
the attitude of combat. The church and convent of St. Gildas belonged to
the family of Bisson, whose self-devotion is commemorated by a statue at
Lorient. He passed here many years of his early life, and wishing to
preserve the buildings from ruin, gave them as a present to the parish.
St. Gildas is called by the Bretons St. Feltas. There is a rude coloured
print in the church relative to the legend of Comorre, or Comor, the
Breton "Blue Beard," in which St. Gildas plays a conspicuous part. The
story, as told by Emile Souvestre, is this:--Guerech, Count of Vannes, the
country of white corn, had a daughter, Triphyna, whom he tenderly loved.
One day, ambassadors arrived from Comorre, a Prince of Cornouaille, the
country of the black corn, demanding her in marriage. Now this caused
great distress, for Comorre was a giant, and one of the wickedest of men,
held in awe by every one for his cruelty. As a boy, when he went out, his
mother used to ring a bell to warn people of his approach. He shot a child
in order to prove his gun; and, when unsuccessful in the chase, would set
his dogs on the peasants to tear them in pieces. But most horrible of all,
he had had four wives, who all died one after the other, under suspicion
of having been killed by either the knife, fire, water, or poison. The
Count of Vannes, therefore, dismissed the ambassadors, and advanced to
meet Comorre, who was approaching with a powerful army; but St. Gildas
went into her oratory, and begged Triphyna would save bloodshed, and
consent to the marriage. He gave her a silver ring, which would warn her
of any intended evil, by turning, at the approach of danger, as black as
the crow's wing. The marriage took place with great rejoicings. The first
day six thousand guests were invited; on the next as many poor were fed,
the bride and the bridegroom serving at table, a napkin under their arms.
For some time, all went on well. Comorre's nature seemed changed, his
prisons were empty, his gibbets untenanted; but Triphyna felt no
con