HARFLEUR. VIEW FROM THE PIER. THE view from the principal pier at Havre is, perhaps, one of the finest in the world obtained so near the level of the sea. The vast lake of the Seine, which we have described as terminating at Quillebœuf, is seen, in all its beautiful and magnificent details, to the left; directly opposite, HONFLEUR, surmounted by the hill of Notre Dame de Grace, is niched in the wooded shore; and on the right the eye loses itself in the immensity of the ocean. After enjoying this spectacle, let the traveller proceed to the promontory of the Hève, where two light towers were constructed by Louis XV, to correspond with those of Ailley and Barfleur. After climbing the rock, he will reach the summit of one of the towers by means of a stair of more than a hundred steps; and from this elevation-three-hundred and eighty-five feet above the level of the sea-he will contemplate the scene from which he has so lately withdrawn his eye, with changed feelings. The view has expanded to an extent which at once delights and oppresses the soul. The Seine is no longer a lake, but a mighty river, whose windings are lost in the distance; and the eye wanders beyond the hills of Honfleur (which before shut in the prospect), tracing the line of the Norman coast to a distance of fifty miles as the crow flies, where at length the falaise of Barfleur rests like a film on the horizon. There landed our English Edward (of fatal memory for France), to dispute the throne with Phillippe de Valois on his own ground, and overthrow the French army at l'Ecluse. There, if you withdraw your eye slowly along the line of coast, is the Hogue, where, landing again, he led his victorious islanders to the field of Cressy. Nearer still is the spire of Formigny, where Charles VII-he who was saved by the enthusiasm of one woman, and regenerated by the love of another-struck the decisive blow at the dominion of the English in Normandy. Now commences the long line of the Rocks of Calvados, with a gulf between them and the land, where one of the ships of the famous Armada perished in what is called to this day the Grave of Spain. There is the bay of Coleville, where a single Norman, on a foggy night, routed two invading squadrons of English with the sound of an old drum.1 Now comes the embouchure of the Dive, where the banner of the Three Leopards went forth on its career of conquest. And, finally, our eyes rest on the great sand-banks of Honfleur, which seem destined to destroy eventually one of the finest rivers in the world. 2 From the heights of Ingouville, where the English colonists principally reside, the view also is admirable; and there M. Casimir Delavigne, a native of the place, was betrayed by his enthusiasm into the exclamation "Après Constantinople, il n'est rien de plus beau!” For our part, we know nothing as yet about Constantinople; and we are not inclined to take the word of a poet, that it presents any thing half so beautiful as the embouchure of the Seine. See the History of Monsieur Cabieux, in 'Heath's Picturesque Annual,' 1834. * The ensign of Normandy, raised by William the Conqueror at the entrance of this little river, when he embarked on his wonderful enterprise. Leaving Havre behind us, we leave behind the triumph of honour, genius, and industry, and enter a domain where nature asserts a fatal sovereignty. The village of Eure to the east of the fortifications, seated among fertile fields and clumps of trees, looks like the abode of ease and content; but the bloodless faces and languid motions of the inhabitants tell another tale. The sea and the south-west wind are the masters of this portion of the coast to the Point of the Hoc; and they still threaten to destroy even the vestiges of the works of man. The opposite engraving conveys a good idea of this unwholesome but beautiful flat. The view is taken from the heights of GRAVILLE, near the road to Harfleur; and the buildings on the left comprise the remains of the old church and monastery erected over the bones of the virgin-martyr St. Honoria. This holy person was disturbed from her repose in the monastery of Conflans by the appearance of the Norman pirates in the Seine. The monks fled with every thing they considered likely to tempt the cupidity of the wild men of the north, and among other precious property, very prudently carried off the bones of St. Honoria. Pausing to take breath at GRAVILLE, they were at length induced to deposit permanently there the sacred treasure; and the consequence was, that the spot very soon became the rendezvous of a crowd of pilgrims, attracted by the miracles wrought continually by the relics. The martyr having preserved so miraculously her own bones from captivity, was naturally disposed to take a warmer interest in captives than in sufferers of any other description; and, |