It is usual on this spot to recount the pitiful, but rather apocryphal story of the burial of William the Conqueror, by a ‘simple knight;’ of its dramatic interruption by one of the bystanders, a ’man of low degree,’ who claimed the site of the grave, and was appeased with 60 sous; and of the subsequent disturbance and destruction of his tomb by the Huguenots; but the artistic traveller will be more interested in these buildings as monuments of the architecture of the eleventh century, and to notice the marks of the chisel and the mason’s hieroglyphics made in days so long gone by, that history itself becomes indistinct without these landmarks—­marks and signs that neither armies of revolutionists nor eight centuries of time have been able to destroy.

We speak of ‘eight centuries’ in two words (the custodian of the place has them glibly on his tongue), but it is difficult to comprehend this space of time; to realise the fact of the great human tide that has ebbed and flowed through these aisles for eleven generations—­smoothing the pillars by its constant wave, but leaving no more mark upon them than the sea on the rocks of Calvados.

The contemplation of these two monuments may suggest a comparison between two others that are rising up in western London at the present time,—­the ‘Albert Memorial’ and the ‘Hall of Science.’  They (the old and the new) stand, as it were, at the two extremities of a long line of kings, a line commencing with ‘William the Bold,’ and ending with ‘Albert the Good;’ the earlier monuments dedicated to Religion, the latter to Science and Art—­the first to commemorate a warrior, the latter a man of peace—­the first endurable through many ages, the latter destructible in a few years.[17]

The comparison is surely worth making, for is it not curiously typical of the state of monumental art in England in the present day, that we are only doing what our ancestors did better?  They erected useful, appropriate, and endurable monuments which are still crowning ornaments to the town of Caen.  Are either of our ‘memorials’ likely to fulfil these conditions?

Not to go further into detail, there is no doubt that, elaborate and magnificent as the ‘Albert Memorial’ may be, it is useless, inappropriate, and out of place in Hyde Park; and that the ’Hall of Science’ at South Kensington (whatever its use may be) is not likely to attract foreign nations by the external beauty of its 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-de-place) 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 valour; and the chapel where he ’allait prier Marie, benir 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.