r bright crimson dresses and tall caps; and I found all the flower
of the neighbourhood assembled on the green that crowns the summit of
the hill.

The chapel of Notre Dame de Grace is a favourite resort of the
inhabitants of Honfleur and its vicinity, both for pleasure and
devotion. At this little chapel prayers are put up by the mariners of
the port previous to their voyages, and by their friends during their
absence; and votive offerings are hung about its walls, in fulfilment
of vows made during times of shipwreck and disaster. The chapel is
surrounded by trees. Over the portal is an image of the Virgin and
child, with an inscription which struck me as being quite poetical:

"Etoile de la mer, priez pour nous!"
(Star of the sea, pray for us.)

On a level spot near the chapel, under a grove of noble trees, the
populace dance on fine summer evenings; and here are held frequent
fairs and fetes, which assemble all the rustic beauty of the loveliest
parts of Lower Normandy. The present was an occasion of the kind.
Booths and tents were erected among the trees; there were the usual
displays of finery to tempt the rural coquette, and of wonderful shows
to entice the curious; mountebanks were exerting their eloquence;
jugglers and fortune-tellers astonishing the credulous; while whole
rows of grotesque saints, in wood and wax-work, were offered for the
purchase of the pious.

The fete had assembled in one view all the picturesque costumes of the
Pays d'Auge, and the Cote de Caux. I beheld tall, stately caps, and
trim bodices, according to fashions which have been handed down from
mother to daughter for centuries, the exact counterparts of those worn
in the time of the Conqueror; and which surprised me by their faithful
resemblance to those which I had seen in the old pictures of
Froissart's Chronicles, and in the paintings of illuminated
manuscripts. Any one, also, that has been in Lower Normandy, must have
remarked the beauty of the peasantry, and that air of native elegance
that prevails among them. It is to this country, undoubtedly, that the
English owe their good looks. It was from hence that the bright
carnation, the fine blue eye, the light auburn hair, passed over to
England in the train of the Conqueror, and filled the land with
beauty.

The scene before me was perfectly enchanting: the assemblage of so
many fresh and blooming faces; the gay groups in fanciful dresses;
some dancing on the green, others s