e more sparsely scattered towards the
sea, and in their excellent company you may appreciate the gallantry
of Eusthenes towards the Norman ladies, and even savour faintly, as
from afar, the bouquet of that Vin blanc d'Anjou which Pantagruel
bought in some old hostelry beside the Eau de Robec. "Mouton de
Rouen," says the old proverb, "qui a toujours la patte levee," and
her sons were ever ready from the earliest years to go their ways,
"gaaignant," through all the trade-routes of Europe, where French and
Spanish wines were to be bought and sold. And beyond them too; for in
1364 they had joined the mariners of Dieppe in an expedition to the
far Canaries, and even helped towards a little settlement upon the
coast of Africa, from which the good ship "Notre Dame de Bon Voyage"
brought home a cargo of pepper, ivory, and gold-dust that caused much
speculation on the quays of Rouen. In 1380 a few actual forts were set
upon the Guinea Coast, under the command of that brave Norman admiral,
Jean de Bethencourt, the chamberlain of Charles VI., who styled
himself the King of the Canaries (most fascinating of titles!) before
he died in 1425.

But even commercial enterprise could not save the city from the
ravages of the Black Death. In 1379 it swept over the town, and
carried off an enormous number of the bread-winners, for the extent of
Rouen had now almost widened to the lines of the modern boulevards,
and its population had steadily increased from the 50,000 of a century
before. The plague had left a famine in its tracks, and as a "rich
city," Rouen had been severely taxed for the necessities of war, so
that when the regents of the young King ground down the citizens with
more oppression and ill-considered taxes, there is small wonder that
their patience came suddenly to an end, and they burst into open
revolt in February 1381. These exactions came upon the citizens with a
double sting. For not only were they exhausted by previous misery, but
the good King Charles had upon his death-bed remitted these excessive
imports, and left his heart to the Cathedral in token of his eternal
goodwill to the town of Rouen, where he had so often sojourned. So the
explosion of popular indignation was instantaneous and terrible.
While "Rouvel" clanged wildly from the belfry of the town, the
citizens attacked the tax-gatherers, upset their offices, tore in
pieces their tax-rolls, and then closed the city-gates and put up the
chains across the end