awn up her dress, so
that her feet, which are spoken of as being particularly beautiful were
revealed to his admiring gaze. Arlette afterwards became the mother of
William the Conqueror, and the room is pointed out in the south-west corner
of the keep in which we are asked to believe that the Conqueror of England
was born. It is, however, unfortunate for the legend that archaeologists do
not allow such an early date for the present castle, and thus we are not
even allowed to associate these ramparts with the legend just mentioned. It
must have been a strong building that preceded this present structure, for
during the eleventh century William the Norman was often obliged to retreat
for safety to his impregnable birthplace. The Tour Talbot has below its
lowest floor what seems to be a dungeon, but it is said that prisoners were
not kept here, the place being used merely for storing food. The gloomy
chamber, however, is generally called an oubliette. Above, there are other
floors, the top one having been used by the governor of the castle. In the
thickness of the wall there is a deep well which now contains no water. One
of the rooms in the keep is pointed out as that in which Prince Arthur was
kept in confinement, but although it is known that the unfortunate youth
was imprisoned in this castle, the selection of the room seems to be
somewhat arbitrary.

In 1428 the news of Joan of Arc's continued successes was brought to the
Earl of Salisbury who was then governor of Falaise Castle, and it was from
here that he started with an army to endeavour to stop that triumphal
progress. In 1450 when the French completely overcame the numerous English
garrisons in the towns of Normandy, Falaise with its magnificent position
held out for some time. The defenders sallied out from the walls of the
town but were forced back again, and notwithstanding their courage, the
town capitulated to the Duke of Alencon's army at almost the same time as
Avranches and a dozen other strongly defended towns. We can picture to
ourselves the men in glinting head-pieces sallying from the splendid old
gateway known as the Port des Cordeliers. It has not lost its formidable
appearance even to-day, though as you look through the archway the scene is
quiet enough, and the steep flight of outside steps leads up to scenes of
quiet domestic life. The windows overlook the narrow valley beneath where
the humble roofs of the cottages jostle one another for space. T