The Press.
London, England, 1855-03-03 00:00:00

MARCH 3, 1855.

just within sight of the ohief-cabin table,;but the flavours
from below seemed to invite me to place on record an entry
of the particulars of that prolonged and • hty meal, to
every single portion of which the lady used herself
with an energy and impetuosity of appeti mpared with
which the fabled feats of schoolboys and noon would
sink into tame insignificance. Iwi the first on-
alaught (when the soup was disposed of)• upon the fried
mackrel : it was a vigorous attack; but the fish-bones, at
any rate, were remove& Two relais of beefsteak, ditto of
French beans and fried potatoes followed, with an omelette
aux fines herbes, flanked immediately by a fricandeau of
veal and sorrel ' . anti these (or rather I should say
the dishes that bad contained all this) were supplaced by
a roast chicken, garnished with mushrooms, and com-
mended to the gentle senses by a hock of ham, served upon
spinach. This engrossed an interval of twenty-five minutes
—the chicken, indeed, having become invisible in the first
ten ; but the salted meat demanded more laborious mandu•
cation. Then came an open apricot tart, three custards,
and an endive salad, which I felt sure was the precursor,
as it proved, of a small roast leg of lamb, with chopped
onion and nutmeg-powder sprinkled upon it. All, except the
joint, was consumed; and then came the coffee and two
glasses of absinthe and eau doree, a Mignon cheese, pears,
plums, grapes, and cakes—two bottles of petit Bourgogne,
and one, of Chablis wine having been emptied between
eleven and one o'clock. .

.....
This was a breakfast; and this the amplest evidence I
ever gained of the will and power of that appetite which
Ulysses characterised as "an universal wolf.' Such a pair
would plunge any boarding housekeeper into insolvency-in
the course of a little month ! I was glad to find them, at
two o'clock, enjoying a digestive nap—dreaming, possibly,
of a coming dinner!

The marvellous skill which from the small
iron closet of a steam-boat, with its one stove
and few saucepans, supplies a luxurious dinner
for a large company, must have astonished
thousands besides our author. Ho humo-
rously relates how he has watched with admi-
ration " the projection—the crisis of that
" operation which out of fire and fluids, grease
" and gravy, educes the most savory of meats,
" soup, fish, flesh, fowl, entremets, and hors
" d'ceuvres, in delicious variety." The result
is astonishing, but we doubt whether minute
observation of the modus operandi would at all
contribute to the appetite of a partaker of the
banquet.
At Caen, the author's first visit was natu-
rally to the Church of St. Stephen, where a
plain marble slab covers the grave which once
contained the remains of " invictissimus
Gulielmus Conquestor." An instructive but
mournful chapter might be written on the
strange fate which has befallen the bones of
the illustrious dead. Seldom have they been
suffered to remain in perfect repose. Ill-
judging reverence and admiration in some
eases, detestable antiquarian curiosity in
others, and oftener still the brutal violence of
fanatical mobs, have invaded the sanctity of
the tomb, and scattered abroad the very dust
which alone remained to represent the forms
which once commanded the homage or excited
the enthusiasm of nations. The tomb of
William has shared in those vicissitudes of
feeling peculiarly characteristic of the French
people :

- -
This tomb was opened at the instance of three Italian
prelates who, on their arrival in Caen, in 1522, expressed
an earnest desire to verify the body. Their request was
granted, and the features were found in such perfect pre-
servation as to enable a competent artist to wake a portrait,
which was suspended opposite to the monument, after the
coffin was closed, and everything restored as previous to
the opening.
Forty years afterwards (1562) the Calvanists, rising en
masse, carried havoc and desecration into all the churches
in the land. This n Ale temple was among the first to
suffer from their brutality, and the tomb of the Conqueror
became the special object of attack. The mercenary vil-
lains protested it contained hidden treasure, and, in the
blind rage of disappointed sectarian frenzy, scattered in
all directions the dry bones of the illustrious dead (the only
deposit they found there ), and heaped the grossest indig-
nities on both tomb and sanctuary. A thigh-bone was re-
covered; and some idea may be formed of the " majesty of
buried " Normandy, from the circumstance of this having
been found to measure eight inches beyond the average
length of that. part of the human frame. By dint of labo-
rious search and untiring zeal, the dispersed portions of
the skeleton were ultimately found ;—an act of loyalty
attaching everlasting credit to Jean de Baillehache, the
successful tinder ;—and these were once more deposited,
in the year 1642 (beneath the pavement where they origi-
nally lay), with honourable pomp and ceremony. This
worthy man likewise erected a new and simple monument
upon the spot where the ruined sarcophagus and its adorn-
ments had stood,—annexing a latin inscription which re-
corded the fate they had encountered. Singular to relate
even this memorial was not suffered to remain above a
century without disturbance and removal. On the occa-
sion of the eastern extremity of the church being
extended, and the old sanctuary becoming, in cousequence,
the lower end of the choir, the monument was found to be
so inconveniently in the way of the ministering priests, on
every performance of Divine service, that the clergy
obtained permission from Louis XV. to remove it nearer

-THE PRESS.

to the nave ; and there it was re-established, with a third
inscription detailing tit), circumstance. This wes the
monument levelled by the revolutionary rable of 1749, on
account of the heraldic insignia on its panels; but they did
not invade the sanctity of the vault beneath. There is but
too much reason, however, to believe that about the date
of the murder of Louis XVI., when every vestige and me-
morial of regal authority has execrated and trampled under
foot, the mouldering relics of William of Normandy were
for evermore in this world lost ; and not until the privi-

leges of congregational worship were restored by the act of
MI, was there either gravestone or epitaph to mark the

place of sepulture.

To the above wo may append the descrip-
tion given of the splendid statue of William
erected at Falaise in 1851:
The statue itself is on a colossal scale, in fine bronze ;
and exceeds the proportions of the well-known equestrian
effigy of Henry IV. of France, on the Pont Neuf, in Paris.
From thetop of the pedestal on which the horse is placed
to the crest of the helmet is a space of thirteen feet.
From the same level to the point of the fiag.pole nearly
twenty.four feet. The weight of man and horse amounts
to upwards of seven tons and a half ; and great ingenuity
was evinced by the sculptor, Louis Hochet, who designed
this group, in poising the metal so accurately as to enable
the prancing horse to sustain the whole of the immense
weight by its hinder legs and the junction of the longest
hairs of the animal's tail to the ground from which it is
rearing.
• • • • •

William is represented in the suit of chain mail he is
recorded to have worn in the Battle of Hastings; a light
cloak over his shoulders fluttering in the wind. His head
bears the celebrated Norman helmet (with the nasal, or
nosepiece, for defence of the features), and a ducal
coronet surmounts it. The pennon he is waving retire.
seats that which Alexander 11. had blessed and eresented
to him as the great invader of the North, and is inscribed
with the old Norman words, " Dex aye ! " (God be our
help I)—the cry of the Normans in the famous battle.

Mr. Musgrave prefers the statue of our Duke
in front of the Exchange. We know the
proverb, but cannot assent to it. Taste, like
other qualities, may be true or false, good or
bad, and we certainly cannot understand on
what principles Mr. Musgrave determines the
work of Chantrey to be " immeasurably supe-
'• rior, both in conception and execution," to the
vigorous and characteristic statue of nochet.
Many of the anecdotes told by the author
have been related before. The origin of the
" Vaudeville " is tolerably well known, but the
following anecdote deserves extract, if only as
showing with what fidelity the French people
preserve the memory of names which have
been in any way conspicuous for their in.
ventiou

In the course of my evening stroll (at Vire) I reached
the old house with a water•mill attached to it on a branch
of the river (which is little else than a sinuous brook
hereabouts), once occupied by Olivier Besselin, the
originator of that peculiar species of ballad or song which
eventually gave a name to the little musical pieces played
to this day on the French stage under the well-known de•
nomination of vaudevilles.
Besselin, a native of Vire, was a cleaner of cloth, or
scourer, in the middle of the fifteenth century, and occu-
pied this very mill at the period of the final expulsion of
the English from France. He not only was a calenderer
of credit and renown, but
"A trained band captain eke was be,"

of the town of Vire, and served under the Count de
Clermont, at Formigny, in the battle which recovered
Normandy from our countrymen. The blended duties of
the fulling-mill and garrison did not, however, interfere
with his musical taste, which exercised itself principally
in the composition of certain rural ballads anti drinking
choruses, lauding the hill and valley, wine and cider, by
turns; and infusing a relish of vocal harmony among the
inhabitants of the valleys which filled those pleasant places
with song, and, in the course of a very brief period of
time, created a celebrity for those merry strains from the
Vaux de Fire—the valleys of the Vire--(corrupted, even-
tually, and with great absurdity, into V ilk), which led to
their more extensive use throughout entire France.
Nearly two centuries had elapsed since liasselin's day of
fame before the musical dramatic writers of his country
began to appropriate the light cheerful measure of the
ballads of Vire to the comediettes in one or two acts,
whose business (to use a stage phrase) is carried on from
the rise to the fall of the curtain, through frequently-recur-
ring little songs, thrown off in a manner peculiar, in its
pleasing sprightliness, to the French; and serving, on
many an occasion, to reconcile the most critical of
audiences to a large amount of flimsy and frivolous
matters. Olivier, though the Sims Reeves of his day in the
valley, never could have dreamed of such immortality; but
sonie men " achieve greatness "—unconsciously • and,
could lie now revisit the old mill, he would probably read
with wondering eyes his name, in large gilt letters, inscribed
on a black painted board which signalises the gable-end of
the mill-house facing Vire.
Many of the author's descriptions of scenery
are exquisitely penned, and we may especially
notice the charming chapter relating the
journey from Caen to Vile. The eye of an
artist and the feeling of a poet are blended
in the account of his journey through this
lovely tract of country. Of Norman antiqui-