Last summer, my husband and I rented a privately-owned motorhome in Caen, France, and travelled around Normandy for 10 weather-perfect days. One of the places we had on our short list to see was the city of Rouen, a region with a long and rich history. One icon of the city is a clock. Not just any clock. The Great Clock of Rouen.
Rouen was a pivotal location in the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453 – calling it the “Hundred-and-Sixteen Years’ War” is more accurate but not as catchy, though the name is likely based on the fact that there were periods of fragile truces); the central conflict was the English claim to the French throne. In the context of this war, Joan of Arc became a victim of male chauvinism and political expediency. But that’s another story.
The mechanism of this clock was built in 1389. Let’s put that into perspective: That’s over 100 years before Columbus set out to discover a western passage to the East Indies and inadvertently discovered America; Richard II took over as king of England; it was made during the Hundred Years’ War; Joan of Arc would have seen this clock on her way to her execution (by burning at the stake). It was made more than 190 years before our modern Gregorian calendar replaced the Julian calendar, in 1582.
The mechanism deserved not only a grand position, but a grand façade: The Rouennais aldermen decided that the town needed a clock, and the construction of a tower to house the clock took 9 years; the architect was Jehan de Bayeux, though the tower was completed by his son in 1398. The original designer of the clock’s facades, Jordan Delettre, was no more (whether he died or was removed is unknown), and it was completed by Jean de Felain, who became the first “governor of the clock”, maintaining it in exchange for a home in the clock’s tower. Towers and wars came and went, and the clock survived; it was moved to its current location in 1410, now housed astride an ornately carved stone archway.
The clock faces (on both sides of a stone archway and connected to a central mechanism shared by both) are 2.5 metres (over 8 feet) in diameter, and each has only a single hand, tipped with the depiction of a lamb, which shows the hour; moon phases are indicated in the 30 cm oculus above the clock face, which makes a full rotation every 29 days. The face depicts 24 rays of the sun surrounded by a dark blue starry frame. A hand which shows the day of the week is located in an opening at the base of the dial, with each day represented by a different Greek god: Diane as the moon (Monday), Mars (Tuesday), Mercury (Wednesday), Jupiter (Thursday), Venus (Friday), Saturn (Saturday) and Apollo (Sunday).
Although the mechanism of the clock still works, it has been powered by electricity since 1928, and the tower itself was renovated in the late 1990s.
Underneath the clock in the centre of the archway, the coat of arms of Rouen can be seen: It depicts the Paschal lamb on a red background (the official colour of Rouen); it is held by two angels (if you look closely at the angel on the right, you’ll notice that its head is on wrong; it is thought to be due to disgruntled construction workers – obviously an age-old problem…). Beneath the arch are elaborate bas-reliefs of Jesus as the Good Shepherd caring for his flocks; the clock’s hand, the coat of arms and the reliefs all echo the importance of textile and wool trade to the city. One clock face alone has at least 15 sheep (zoom in on the picture of the clock and see if you can spot them all!). Next to the clock is a Gothic belfry tower built in the 14th and 15th centuries which houses the bells connected to the clock, which ring on the quarter-hour.
Rouen is a survivor: It has outlasted Viking raids that travelled up the Seine River, the Hundred Years’ War, the Religion Wars of the Renaissance period, the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, the French Revolution, and even World War 2; the latter damaged nearly half the city, and shrapnel and bullet scars can still be seen in façades. The cathedral’s stained-glass windows were shattered by a WW2 bomb and were subsequently reconstructed using the fragments, creating jumbled images that reflect its history and its survival.
For me, the clock must really be seen within its context to truly appreciate it; it’s surrounded by wonky Medieval buildings which are three or four stories tall and built when plumb lines and uniformity were still futuristic concepts. They were built out of timber, as there is abundant forest nearby but no stone quarries.
The clock adorns the arch over the Rue du Gros-Horloge (“Street of the Great Clock”), which runs between the Gothic cathedral, made famous by Claude Monet (who painted over 30 canvases centred on the cathedral), and the old market square, where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. Perhaps ironically in light of the latter event, the street just off of the clock’s archway is called Rue Massacre…
Though I do not speak French, I know that in French, clocks today are referred to in the feminine form, la horloge; but prior to the 18th century, clocks were masculine; so, the great clock of Rouen, in French, is still Le Gros-Horloge.
Below are a few of our holiday photos: They include the cathedral’s jumbled windows and the clock from various angles, as well as a few of the wonky buildings. Enjoy!
Stephanie Huesler 