lly of wood, which form
the hamlet, present nothing remarkable. But it is in this very absence
of anything remarkable that the historic interest of Mortemer consists.
The Mortemer of the eleventh century was a town; the Mortemer of the
nineteenth century is a very small and scattered village. Doubtless a
town of that age might be, in point of population, not beyond a village
now; still a town implies continuous houses, which is just what Mortemer
now does not possess. The French occupied Mortemer because of the
convenient quarters to be had in its hostels. It is now one of the last
places in the world to which one would go for quarters of any kind.
Mortemer was apparently an open town, not defended by walls or a castle,
or the French could hardly have occupied it, as they did, without
resistance. But it must have been a town, as towns then went, or so
large a body could not have been so comfortably quartered in it as they
evidently were. The key to the change is to be found in the event
itself. The Normans of the surrounding country surprised the French on
the morning after they had entered Mortemer, while they were still
engaged in revelry and debauchery. They set fire to the town, and slew
the Frenchmen as they attempted to escape. To all appearance, the town
was never rebuilt, and its change into the mean collection of houses
which now bears its name is a strange but abiding trophy of a great
triumph of Norman craft--in this case we can hardly say of Norman
valour--eight centuries back.

Such are two of the historic spots which are to be found in abundance on
the historic soil of Normandy. They are only two out of many; every
town, almost every village, has its tale to tell. From Eu to Pontorson
there is hardly a spot which does not make some contribution to the
history of those stirring times when Normandy had a life of its own, and
when the Norman name was famous from Scotland to Sicily. After six
hundred years of incorporation with the French monarchy, Normandy is
still Norman; "le Duc Guillaume" is still a familiar name, not only to
professed scholars or antiquaries, but to the people themselves. Without
any political bearing--for the political absorption of Normandy by
France was remarkably speedy--the feelings and memories of the days of
independence have lingered on in a way which is the more remarkable as
there is no palpable distinction of language, such as distinguishes
Bretons, Basques, or even the speaker