But you must come with me to the cathedral, and of course we must enter together at the western front.  There are five porticoes; the central one being rather large, and the two, on either side, comparatively small.  Formerly, these were covered with sculptured figures and ornaments, but the Calvinists in the sixteenth, and the Revolutionists in the eighteenth century, have contrived to render their present aspect mutilated and repulsive in the extreme.  On entering, I was struck with the two large transverse Norman arches which bestride the area, or square, for the bases of the two towers.  It is the boldest and finest piece of masonry in the whole building.  The interior disappointed me.  It is plain, solid, and divested of ornament.

Hard by the cathedral stood formerly a magnificent episcopal palace.  Upon this palace the old writers dearly loved to expatiate.  There is now, however, nothing but a good large comfortable family mansion; sufficient for the purposes of such hospitality and entertainment as the episcopal revenues will afford.

It is high time that you should be introduced in proper form to the famous Bayeux tapestry.  Know then, in as few words as possible, that this celebrated piece of tapestry represents chiefly the Invasion of England by William the Conqueror, and the subsequent death of Harold at the battle of Hastings.  It measures about 214 English feet in length, by about nineteen inches in width; and is supposed to have been worked under the particular superintendence and direction of Matilda, the wife of the Conqueror.  It was formerly exclusively kept and exhibited in the cathedral; but it is now justly retained in the Town Hall, and treasured as the most precious relic among the archives of the city.

There is indeed every reason to consider it as one of the most valuable historical monuments which France possesses.  It has also given rise to a great deal of archeological discussion.  Montfaucon, Ducarel, and De La Rue, have come forward successively—­but more especially the first and last; and Montfaucon in particular has favored the world with copper-plate representations of the whole.  Montfaucon’s plates are generally much too small; and the more enlarged ones are too ornamental.

It is right, first of all, that you should have an idea how this piece of tapestry is preserved, or rolled up.  You see it here, therefore, precisely as it appears after the person who shows it, takes off the cloth with which it is usually covered.  The first portion of the needle-work, representing the embassy of Harold from Edward the Confessor to William Duke of Normandy, is comparatively much defaced—­that is to say, the stitches are worn away, and little more than the ground, or fine close linen cloth remains.  It is not far from the beginning—­and where the color is fresh, and the stitches are, comparatively, preserved—­that you observe the portrait of Harold.