Today's Place to Daydream about: Saint-Malo

Saint-Malo is an ancient fortified town that sits on a rocky promontory at the mouth of the Rance River, where Britanny meets Normandy. There was a Gallic town here, known as the Romans as Reginca or Aletum, but most sources say that town was inland on a more level site. 

The first documented occupation of the modern town's site was a Roman fort, part of the coastal defenses known as the "Saxon Shore." The Notitia Dignitatum of circa 400 AD says the fort was under the command of the dux of the Tractus Armoricanus and Nervicanus, that is, the Shores of Brittany and Normandy.

In the later 400s much of northern Gaul rebelled against Roman authority, an event we call the revolt of the Bagaudae or Bacaudae. This was a recurring phenomena in Gaul, first noted in 286 AD; the word seems to mean "fighter" in some Gallic dialect. The Bagaudae seem mostly to have been peasants who were sick of paying taxes to governments that were not defending them very well, joined by bandits and other riffraff. Anyway by the mid 400s we hear that the Bagaudae controlled large areas of northern Gaul, including much of Britanny. Local historians in Saint-Malo maintain that their tradition of piratical, anti-authority stubbornness began in this period, and when Saint-Malo declared its independence from France in 1590 one of their spokesmen claimed that they were continuing the tradition of the Bagaudae.

One thing we know certainly happened in the later fifth and sixth centuries was the migration of large numbers of Britons to Britanny, enough that they changed the name of the region and imposed their language across much of it. I think we have to imagine, though, that this domination was never complete, and that there were always many speakers of late Latin/early French in Britanny. "Pure" Breton culture is a modern myth.

One of the themes of the chaotic period of the empire's collapse was that many people moved from convenient locations to better defended hilltops or islands (e.g., Venice). This seems to have happend at Saint-Malo, with the main settlement moving away from the convenient but exposed location along the riverbank to the rocky promontory. This town was presumably mostly Breton, since it took its name from a saint who had emigrated from Wales.

The town existed in some form or another through the Merovingian and Carolingian periods, but I haven't been able to learn much about it. In 1144 the local bishop, sick of getting repeatedly chased out of his house during the never-ending fighting between the Dukes of Normandy and Britanny and the King of France, moved from the mainland out to the rock of Saint-Malo. When he arrived he declared his new home a sanctuary city – yes, that is an ancient thing – that would not extradite criminals to their old homes. 

This, maintains local tradition, was how Saint-Malo got started as a center of piracy. But so far as I can understand this, based on very limited online sources, the French kings of that period raised their navy in the same way as the English. That is, they allowed certain towns the right to attack the king's enemies and extract tolls from passing vessels in return for supplying a certain number of ships when the king needed them. (In England these towns were called the Cinque Ports.) Saint-Malo was thus a center of what we would call privateering, or licensed piracy, and it is certainly true that privateering had a habit of shading over into the illegal version. These days we love pirates, and Saint-Malo brands itself the Corsair City.

I cannot find any authoritiative statement on when the walls of Saint-Malo were built, but tourist sites say vague things about the 12th century. Perhaps at the behest of their newly resident bishop? The wall was certainly rebuilt after a major fire in 1661, and then enlarged and modernized in the early 1700s. The town needed its defenses, too, since English sailors made a point of attacking it every time conflict between England and France gave them an excuse.

The cathedral was also built after the bishop's arrival, in a mix of Romanesque and Gothic styles. 

Given the narrow streets and tall houses of the city, it is hard to get a good view of the cathedral, but here is what I can find.

Lovely Gothic sculpture of the virgin.

The city's era of wealth began with the rise of Atlantic trade. The great merchant families of the town traced their lineages to the period, when ships sailed to Africa, the Caribbean, and North America. This means, of course, that Saint-Malo was much involved in the slave trade, and the trade in slave-grown sugar. But also the trade with Canada; Jacques Cartier was born there. (The undated map above was probably drawn in the early 1700s.)

In the 1500s the cities of Atlantic France went strongly Protestant, Saint-Malo among them. The Wars of Religion, I think, were the actual background to the city declaring itself independent in 1590, given that the Duke of Britanny was a staunch Catholic. The city certainly rejoined France in 1594 when the formerly Protestant Henry IV became king and issued the Edict of Nantes, guaranteeing the right of Protestants to worship freely. The source I found did not say anything about this, but in the 19th century some French historians speculated that the Bagaudae revolt of 286 was a Christian revolt, which makes me wonder if the antiquary who brought up the Bagaudae in the context of the 1590 Protestant secession already had that idea. It isn't true – about 286, I mean – but sometimes that doesn't matter.

Saint-Malo remained prosperous through the 17th and 18th centuries; I believe many standing buildings were constructed in the 1700s. In the 19th century the city began to shift to its current role as a focus of tourism.

Then came World War II. Saint-Malo was of course occupied by the Germans, and then heavily fortified as part of their Atlantic Wall. The stone walls of the citadel were reinforced with concrete, the beaches mined and covered with obstacles. In early August, 1944, the Allies finally broke out of their Normandy beachhead, in particular smashing German defenses to the south, opening the way for a rapid armored thrust around the left flake of the German 7th Army, toward Paris. While the main American force drove east, the 8th Corps turned west to occupy Brittany. Saint-Malo was right in their path. 

On August 5, the Americans cut off the city and called on its defenders to surrender. The German commander, Colonel Andreas von Aulock, responded that he "would defend St. Malo to the last man even if the last man had to be himself". The Americans shrugged, brought up their artillery, called in a few hundred heavy bombers, and proceded to give Colonel von Aulock what he asked for. 

In the course of the assault, the old walled city was "almost completely destroyed." Most accounts say the damage was done by Americans shells and bombs, but among the strange things one can find on the Internet is this account of the battle by a very Catholic, very nationalistic Frenchman, who says most of the damage was done by Germans firing incendiary shells, I suppose just out of malice.

At any event, by the time the Germans surrendered on August 17, the city was wrecked.

In 1948, the French government decided that Saint-Malo would be rebuilt as close to its pre-war form as could be managed. (Note the numbered stones above, for dismantling and reconstruction.) I have not been able to find out anything about this decision. It seems like something De Gaulle would have been into, but all the sources I have found say that the inhabitants insisted on this approach:

The Malouis did not wish to feel lost in their new city; they wanted the new city to resemble the old as much as possible. The layout of streets, with their angles and their turns, should be conserved, since they protected against winds; above all, Saint-Malo should not become a car park.

Some sources say the reconstruction was completed by 1960, but on the other hand the cathedral spire was not rebuilt until 1972.

The stained glass in the cathedral was all lost, but was replaced with lovely works by French artisans.

The careful rebuilding seems to have been a good investment, since the city regained its status as a tourist mecca and still maintains it, providing the money to keep this splendid relic of the mercantile age standing on its proud Atlantic rock.