river Orne, on which it is built, is laden with produce; with corn, wine, oil and cider; with timber, and with shiploads of the celebrated Caen stone. On every side we see the signs of productiveness and plenty, and consequent cheapness of many of the necessaries of life. Calvados, like the rest of lower Normandy, has earned for itself the name of the "food-producing land" of France, whence London, Paris, and all great centers are supplied. The variety and cheapness of the goods manufactured here and in the neighborhood testify to the industry and enterprise of the people, and there is probably no city in Normandy where purchases of clothing, hardware, etc., can be more advantageously made. We are treading in the "footsteps of the Conqueror" at Caen, but its busy inhabitants have little time for historic memories. A few only have eyes of love and admiration for the noble spire of the church of St. Pierre, which rises above the old houses in the market-place. Built in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, in the best period of Gothic art in Normandy, its beautiful proportions and grace of line, especially when seen from the north side, have been the admiration

A "TOILER OF THe sea."

of ages of architects and the occasion of many a special pilgrimage in our own day. Pugin has sketched its western façade and its lancet windows, and Prout has given us drawings of the spire percée au jour, perforated with such mathematical accuracy that, as we approach the tower, there is always one or more opening in view as one star disappears, another shines out, as in the cathedrals of Italy and Spain. In the interior, the nave is chiefly remarkable for its proportions; but the choir is richly ornamented in the style of the Renaissance. It has been restored at different periods, but, as usual in France, the whole interior has been colored or whitewashed, so that it is difficult to detect the old work from the new.

The most interesting and characteristic buildings in Caen are the two royal abbeys of William the Conqueror, St. Etienne, called the Abbaye aux Hommes, and la Ste. Trinité, the Abbaye aux Dames, both founded and built in the eleventh century. The first (containing the tomb of the Conqueror) has two plain, massive towers, with spires, and an interior remarkable for its strength and solidity-a perfect example of Norman-Romanesque; adorned, it must be added, with twenty-four nineteenth-century chandeliers with glass lusters suspended by cords from the roof, and with gas 'brackets of a modern pattern. The plain marble slab in the chancel, marking the spot where William the Conqueror was buried and disinterred (with the three mats placed in front of it for prayer), is shown with much ceremony by the custodian of the place. The Abbaye aux Dames is built on high ground at the opposite side of the town, and is surrounded by conventual buildings of modern date. It resembles the Abbaye aux Hommes in point of style, but the carving is more elaborate, and the transepts are much grander in design. At Caen we are in an atmosphere of heroes and kings; we pass from one historical site to another until the mind becomes half confused; we are shown (by the same valet-deplace) the tomb of the Conqueror, and the house where Beau Brummel died. We see the ruins of a castle on the heights where "le jeune et beau Dunois" performed historical prodigies of valor; and the chapel where · he "allait prier Marie, bénir ses exploits." But the modern military aspect of things is, we are bound to confess, prosaic to a degree; we find the Dunois of the period occupied in more peaceful pursuits, mending shoes, tending little children and carrying wood for winter fires.

The approach to the town of Bayeux from the west, either by road or railway, is always striking, for it is from this side that the cathedral towers are best seen. The reposethe solemnity, we might almost call it-that pervades Bayeux even in this busy nineteenth century, is the first thing that impresses a stranger; a repose the more solemn and mysterious when we think of its rude history of wars, pillage and massacres, and of its destruction more than once by fire and sword. It is now a place of peaceful industry, with about 10,000 inhabitants, "a quiet, dull, ecclesiastical city," as the guidebooks express it; with an aspect almost as undisturbed as a cathedral close. The chief object of interest is, undoubtedly, the cathedral itself. The noble west front, with its pointed Gothic towers and spires, is familiar to us in many an engraving and painting; but what these illustrations do not give us on their small scale is the beauty of the carved doorways, the clustering of the ornaments about them, and the statues of bishops, priests and kings. We see in the interior of this cathedral a confusion of styles-a conflict of grace and beauty with rude and grotesque work. The delicately traced patterns carved on the walls, the medallions and pendent ornaments, in stone, of the thirteenth century, are scarcely surpassed at Chartres; side by side with these, there are headless and armless statues of the eleventh and twelfth centuries which have been painted, and tablets to commemorate the ancient founders of the church, and underneath the choir, the crypt of Bishop Odo, the Conqueror's half-brother, with its twelve massive pillars, which formed the foundation of the original church built in 1077. In the nave we may admire the beautiful radiating chapels, with their curious frescoes (some destroyed by damp and others evidently effaced by rude hands), and examine the bronze pulpit, with a figure of the Virgin trampling on the serpent; the dark carved woodwork in the chancel; the books with antique clasps; and two quite modern stone pulpits or lecterns, with vine-leaves twining up them in the form of a cross,

the carving of which is equal to any of the old work-the rugged vine-stem and the soft leaves being wonderfully rendered.

After seeing the cathedral we go naturally in pursuit of that curious relic of antiquity half satirically described by Dibdin as "an exceedingly curious document of the conjugal attachment and enthusiastic veneration of Matilda," which is now kept with the greatest care and is displayed on a stand under a glass case, in its entire length, 227 feet. It is about twenty inches wide, and is divided into seventy-two compartments. Every line is expressed by coarse stitches of colored thread or worsted, and the figures are worked in various colors, the groundwork and the flesh-tints being generally left white. The extraordinary preservation of the tapestry, when we consider not only the date of the work, but the vicissitudes to which it has been subjected, is so remarkable, that the spectator is disposed to ask to see the "original," feeling sure that this fresh, bright-looking piece of work cannot have lasted thus for eight hundred years. And when we remember that it was carried from town to town by order of Napoleon I. and also exhibited on the

CLOCK-TOWER AT VIRE.

stage on certain occasions; that it has survived the Revolution, and that the cathedral which it was originally intended to adorn has long been leveled with the ground, we cannot help approaching it with more than ordinary interest; an interest in which the inhabitants, and even the ecclesiastics of Bayeux, scarcely seem to share. It was but a few years ago that the priests of the cathedral, when asked by a traveler to be permitted to see the tapestry, were unable to point it out. The scenes, which (as is well known) represent the principal events in the Norman Conquest, are arranged in fifty-eight groups.

The design of the tapestry is very unequal, some of the latter scenes being weak in comparison, especially that of the death of Harold; the eleventh-century artist, perhaps becoming tired of the work, or having, more probably, a presentiment that this scene would be painted and exhibited annually, by English artists, to the end of time. Whether Queen Matilda ever really worked this tapestry is a question of so little importance that it is wonderful so much discussion has been raised upon it; it is enough for us to know that it was worked soon after the Conquest, and probably by some persons about the court; the most striking thing to remark is the charming freshness and naïveté with which the scenes and characters are depicted. The artist who designed it did not draw figures particularly well; he was ignorant of perspective, and all principles of coloring; but he gave, in his own way, expression to his faces, and attitudes which tell their story even without the help of the Latin inscriptions which accompany them. Shade is often represented by color, and that not always strictly in accordance with nature.

On our way to St. Lo, Coutances, and Granville on the western coast of Normandy, we may do well-if we are interested in the appliances of modern warfare, and would obtain any idea of the completeness and magnificence of the French marine-to see something of Cherbourg, situated near the bold headland of Cap de la Hague. If we look about us as we approach the town, we shall see that the railway is cut through an extraordinary natural fortification of rocks; and if we ascend the heights of Le Roule, we shall obtain what a Frenchman calls a vue féerique du Cherbourg. We shall look down upon the magnificent harbor with its breakwater and surrounding forts, and see a fleet of iron-clads at anchor, and smaller vessels of all nations; gun,boats, turret-ships, and every modern

invention in the

art of maritime war, but scarcely any ships of commerce. The whole energy and interest of a busy population

seem concentra

A SKETCH FROM LIFE.

ted at Cherbourg, either in constructing works of defense or engines of destruction. The rather slovenlylooking orderly that we have sketched, sauntering up and down upon the ramparts, is justly proud of the efficiency and completeness which everywhere surround him, and, with a twinkle in his eye, asks if "monsieur" has visited the arsenals, or has ever seen a naval review at Cherbourg. pride and boast even of the boys that play upon these heights, with "La Gloire" upon their hats, is that Cherbourg is impregnable and France invincible; and, if we stay here long, we shall begin to believe both.

The

In three hours after leaving Cherbourg we find ourselves settled in the little old-fashioned inn, called the Hôtel du Soleil Levant, at St. Lo, which we have entirely to ourselves. St. Lo, although the chef lieu of the Department of La Manche, appears to the traveler a quiet, second-rate manufacturing town, well situated and picturesquely built, but possessing no particular objects of interest excepting the cathedral; although visitors who have spent any time in this neighborhood find it rich in antiquities, and a good center from which to visit various places in the environs. St. Lo is dull, and there is a gloom about it that communicates itself insensibly to the mind, that finds expression in the worship of graven images by little children, and in the burning of innumerable candles in the churches. They do strange things at St. Lo, in their quiet, dull way; they paint the names of their streets on the cathedral walls; make a post-office of one of its buttresses; paste the trees all over with advertisements in the principal squares, and erect images of the Virgin on their warehouses. The master at our hotel calls to a neighbor across the street to come and join us at table, and the people at the