FALL OF CHATEAU GAILLARD.

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footsteps of the shepherdboy, who gathers wild carnations on their summit, the flowers of Château Gaillard."

It only remains for us to mention a considerable excavation in the side of the rock opposite the Seine, and some distance below the walls of the fortress, the origin and nature of which remain in obscurity. It is commonly said to have been the chapel; but no one would have thought of constructing a chapel without the walls, and in a place so difficult of access. It bears, however, a strong general resemblance to a place of Catholic worship, and the niches in the walls were evidently intended for statues of the saints. Our own opinion is, that it was in early times, perhaps, anterior to the erection of the Château, the cell of a hermit.

There lived lately in this singular grotto an aged woman, who inspired the simple inhabitants of Petit Andeli both with fear and reverence. No living man remembered the period of her advent. The children grew up in awe of her, and the old people knew that she had been there when they were children. She was so completely identified with the place, that they only knew her by the name of Mother Gaillard; and at last it was supposed that she was coexistent with the château, and would live as long as one stone of the ruins remained upon another. This desolate old woman, however, whatever might be her origin and history, submitted at length to the fate of mortality. Mother Gaillard died; and we found her place occupied by a wandering Pole, who, driven from the homes of his race, had sought there an asylum, amidst the recollections of the great and brave of other times.

VERNON.

HAVING spent much time among the ruins of the fortress of Cœur de Lion, we at length retraced our steps to Grand Andeli, and there mounted a country vehicle just starting for Vernon. In commencing this route we did not cross the Seine, but, circling round the peninsula of Bernieres, pursued the line of the river.

We have rarely enjoyed a more agreeable ride. The scenery was diversified by hill and dale, rock and forest, although seldom adorned by even a peep of the river, which was concealed by the foliage. The earth seemed rich to prodigality; and the shrubs and waving grain wore a deep, warm tint, which one would have imagined to be peculiar to the place rather than the season. The apple trees were painfully loaded with fruit, their lower branches being in general bent down to the ground, and ready to break under the weight. They reminded us of the lover of the Côte des Deux Amans, on the opposite side of the peninsula, who, in the act of carrying his mistress up the hill, sank under the sweet burden.

After a ride of a few hours we arrived at Vernonnet, the fauxbourg of Vernon. Just before crossing the Seine, we passed, on the right hand, an old castellated mansion, whose round towers and warlike appearance prepared us to enter into the associations of history. This, however, proved to be nothing more than a deserted mill. On the bridge there are some other manufactories, which take