Béarn and the Pyrenees | Page 8

with pride by her countrymen, by whom she is called La
Grande Eperonnière. She had headed a party of valiant citizens, who
defended one of their gates, and fought with such determination, as to
keep her position for a long time against the soldiers of Le Vert Galant.
The king, when the town was in his power, summoned her before him:
she came, and approaching with the same undaunted air, interrupted
him, as he was about to propose terms to her, and demanded at once the
safety of all the women and aged men of the town of Falaise. Henry
was struck with her courage, and desired her to shut herself up in a
street with the persons she wished to save, together with all their most
precious possessions, and gave her his word that no soldier should
penetrate that retreat. He, of course, kept his promise; and she
assembled her friends, took charge of most of the riches of the town,
closed the two ends of the street in which she lived, and, while all the
rest of Falaise was given up to pillage, no one ventured to enter the
sacred precincts. The street is still pointed out, and is called Le
Camp-fermant, or Camp-ferme, in memory of the event. The heroic
Eperonnière was fortunate in having a chief to deal with, who gladly
took advantage of every opportunity to exercise mercy.
The town of Falaise is well provided with water, and its fountains stand
in fine open squares: a pretty rivulet runs through the greatest part, and
turns several mills for corn, oil, cotton and tan; it is called the Ante, and
gives name to the valley it embellishes as it runs glittering along

amongst the rugged stones which impede its way with a gentle murmur,
making a chorus to the voices of the numerous Arlettes, who, kneeling
at their cottage doors, may be seen rubbing their linen against the flat
stones over which the stream flows, bending down their heads which,
except on grand occasions, are no longer adorned with the high fly-caps
which are so becoming to their faces, but are covered with a somewhat
unsightly cotton nightcap, a species of head-gear much in vogue in this
part of lower Normandy, and a manufacture for which Falaise is
celebrated, and has consequently obtained the name of the city of cotton
nightcaps. However, there is one advantage in this usage--the women
have better teeth than in most cider countries, owing perhaps to their
heads being kept warm, and, ugly as the cotton caps are, they deserve
admiration accordingly.
A house is shown in one of the streets, called the House of the
Conqueror, and a rudely sculptured bust is exhibited there, dignified
with his name. Some few tottering antique houses still contrive to keep
together in the oldest parts of the town, but none are by any means
worthy of note; one is singular, being covered with a sort of coat of
mail formed of little scales of wood lapping one over the other, and
preserving the remains of some carved pillars, apparently once of great
delicacy. One pretty tower is still to be seen at the corner of the Rue du
Camp-ferme, which seems to have formed part of a very elegant
building, to judge by its lightness and grace; it has sunk considerably in
the earth, but from its height a fine prospect may be obtained. There is
a public library at Falaise, that great resource of all French towns, and
several fine buildings dedicated to general utility; but the boys of the
college the most excite the envy of the stranger, for their abode is on
the broad ramparts, and their playground and promenades are along the
beautiful walks formed on the ancient defences of the castle.
Our way to Alençon, where we proposed to stop a day, lay through
Argentan on the Orne, a pretty town on a height commanding a fine
view of plain and forest; the country is little remarkable the whole way,
but cultivated and pretty. At Seez the fine, delicate, elevated spires of
the Cathedral mark the situation of the town long before and after it is
reached; but, besides that, it possesses no attractions sufficient to detain

the traveller.
Alençon, the capital of the department of Orne, is a clean, open,
well-built town, situated in a plain with woods in all directions, which
entirely bound its prospects. The public promenades are remarkably
fine, laid out with taste, and a great resource to the inhabitants, who
consider them equal to those of Paris, comparing them to the gardens of
the Luxembourg. The cathedral, once fine, is dreadfully defaced, and
the boasted altars and adornments of the chapels are in the usual bad
taste so remarkable at the present day.
A few