religions of Western Europe felt that their own
fates were to be in a manner decided. In the earlier warfare of the
fifteenth century Falaise plays a prominent part. Town and castle were
taken and retaken, and the ancient fortress itself received a lasting
and remarkable addition from the hand of one of the greatest of English
captains. The tall round tower of Talbot, a model of the military
masonry of its time, goes far to share the attention of the visitor with
the massive keep of the ancient Dukes. Thence we leap back to the
earliest great historical event which we can connect, with any
certainty, with any part of the existing building. It was here, in a
land beyond the borders of the Isle of Britain, but in a comparatively
neighbouring portion of the wide dominions of the House of Anjou, that
the fullest homage was paid which ever was paid by a King of Scots to a
King of England. Here William the Lion, the captive of Alnwick, became
most effectually the "man" of Henry Fitz-Empress, and burdened his
kingdom with new and onerous engagements from which his next overlord
found it convenient to relieve him. Earlier in the twelfth century, and
in the eleventh, Falaise plays its part in the troubled politics of the
Norman Duchy, in the wars of Henry the First and in the wars of his
father. Still going back through a political and military history spread
over so many ages, the culminating interest of Falaise continues to
centre round its first historic mention. Henry of Navarre, our own
Talbot, William the Lion, Robert of Belleme, all fail to kindle the same
emotions as are aroused by the spot which was the favourite
dwelling-place of the pilgrim of Jerusalem, the birthplace of the
Conqueror of England.

[Illustration: Falaise Castle]

Local tradition of course affirms the existing building to be the scene
of William's birth. The window is shown from which Duke Robert first
beheld the tanner's daughter, and the room in which William first saw
what, if it really be the spot, must certainly have been light of an
artificial kind. A pompous inscription in the modern French style calls
on us to reverence the spot where the "legislator of ancient England"
"fut engendre et naquit." The odd notion of William being the legislator
of England calls forth a passing smile, and another somewhat longer
train of thought is suggested. William, early in his reign, tried to
learn English. He proved no very apt scholar, and he presently gave