Ye fires which guard both Thetis and the Seine, Bright shining compeers of the brothers twain— Castor and Pollux—vigilant fires, all hail! O gentle lights, I pray ye, never fail To guide secure each wealthy Neustrian keel, And to my country all the fruits reveal Of blessèd peace, and guard the common weal! No one can have visited Havre without devoting at least an hour to the Cape La Hève, and to the two lighthouses which have extorted from Casimir Delavigne his poetical homage. A pilgrimage to this point is made all the more willingly that the pilgrim who accomplishes it must necessarily pass through Sainte-Adresse, and Sainte-Adresse—need we remind the reader?—is one of the marvels of Normandy. “The delicious vale of Tempe, which the poets of all time have pleased themselves with investing in the riches of their imagination, possesses no attraction which the valley of Sainte-Adresse need envy: its limpid waters, the gently sloping hills which enclose it, the little gardens where for once the hand of Art has not defaced and desecrated the work of Nature; the pure ethereal freshness which it inhales from the breath of its myriad flowers, and which the wind of the plain never respires;—all charms, all seduces, and we exclaim, Happy he who can spend his life in an abode which Flora and Pomona embellish! The goddess Hygeia resides there throughout the year, and, by a happy alliance with Boreas, both contend for the pleasure of protecting this new Eden against the hideous host of human infirmities. Painters, seize your brushes, and let its image revive on your imitative canvas; poets, come hither in quest of inspiration!” It is thus that Morlent expresses himself in his “Monographie du Havre.” It is true that Morlent—as the reader will conjecture—wrote in 1825. Since that date many things have greatly changed—the descriptive style as well as the valley of Sainte-Adresse, which is no longer anything else than a suburb of Havre, covered with edifices of a more or less picturesque character. * * * * * The most curious thing which Sainte-Adresse has preserved is the story of the origin of its name. Namely: that a vessel driven by the currents into the immediate vicinity of the promontory of La Hève, which then extended a greater distance into the sea, was on the point of perishing. Already the despairing sailors had given up further efforts; the pilot, having abandoned the rudder, imitated the rest of the crew, and commended his soul to St. Denis, patron-saint of Caux,[53] whose spire was at intervals visible through the haze. “My friends,” said the captain, who in these circumstances had retained his presence of mind, “it is not St. Denis we must invoke, but _Sainte-Adresse_ (St. Skill), for it is only she who at this crisis can carry us safely into port.” The sailors regained courage; the ship entered Havre; and the phrase “Sainte-Adresse” became everywhere popular.