signifies to flow.  Hence we have flot, and from flot, fleut and fleur, the last alteration being warranted by the genius of the French language.  The bishop further states, that there are two facts, affording a decisive proof of this origin:  the one, that the names now terminating in fleur, ended anciently flot, Barfleur being Barbeflot, Harfleur Hareflot, and Honfleur Huneflot; the other, that all places so called are situated where they are washed by the tide.  Such is also the position of the towns in Holland, whose names terminate in vliet, and of those in England, ending in fleet, as Purfleet, Byfleet, &c.  The Latin word flevus is of the same kind, and is derived from the same source; for, instead of Hareflot and Huneflot, some old records have Hareflou and Huneflou, and some others Barfleu, terms approaching flevus, which is also called by Ptolemy, fleus, and by Mela, fletio.  It is highly improbable, that these two last terms should have been coined subsequently to the time of the Romans becoming masters of Gaul, and it is equally unlikely that the Saxon fleoten should be derived from the Latin.  Thus far, therefore, the languages appear to have had a common origin, and they are insomuch allied to the Celtic, that those towns in Britanny, in whose names are found the syllables pleu and plou, are also invariably placed in similar situations.

If, however, I am fairly embarked in the sea of etymological conjecture, I know not where I shall be carried; and therefore, instead of urging the probability that the root of the Celtic pleu is apparently to be found in the Pelasgic [Greek in original] sail or float, I shall return to Harfleur and its history.  Whilst Harfleur was in its glory, it was considered the key of the Seine and of this part of France.  In 1415 it opposed a vigorous resistance to our Henry Vth, who had no sooner made himself master of it, than, with a degree of contradiction, which teaches man to regard the performance of his duty to God as no reason for his performing it to his fellow-creatures, “the King uncovered his feet and legs, and walked barefoot from the gate to the parish church of St. Martin, where he very devoutly offered up his prayers and thanksgivings for his success.  But, immediately afterwards he made all the nobles and the men at arms that were in the town his captives, and shortly after sent the greater part out of the place, clothed in their jerkins only, taking down their names and surnames in writing, and obliging them to swear by their faith that they would surrender themselves prisoners at Calais on Martinmas-day next ensuing.  In like manner were the townsmen made prisoners, and obliged to ransom themselves for large sums of money.  Afterwards did the King banish them out of the town, with numbers of women and children, to each of whom were given five sols and a portion of their garments.”