The village-like town of Guibray presents a most singular sight to the eye of a stranger.  There are numerous little narrow streets, with every window closed by wooden shutters, and every door fastened.  It appears as if the plague had recently raged there, and that the inhabitants had quitted it for ever.  Not a creature is visible:  not a sound is heard:  not a mouse seems to be stirring.  And yet Guibray boasts of the LARGEST FAIR in France, save one![172] This, my friend, precisely accounts for the aspect of desolation just described.  During the intervals of these triennial fairs, the greater part of the village is uninhabited:  venders and purchasers flocking and crowding by hundreds when they take place.  In a short, narrow street—­where nothing animated was to be seen—­the Count assured me that sometimes, in the course of one morning, several millions of francs were spent in the purchase of different wares.  We left this very strange place with our minds occupied by a variety of reflections:  but at any rate highly pleased and gratified by the agreeable family which had performed the part of guides on the occasion.  In the evening, a professor of music treated us with some pleasing tunes upon the guitar—­which utterly astonished the Count—­and it was quite night-fall when we returned homewards, towards our quarters at the hotel of the Grand Turc.

A memorable incident occurred in our way homewards; which, when made known, will probably agitate the minds and shake the faith of two-thirds of the members of our Society of Antiquaries.  You may remember that I told you, when at Caen, that the Abbe De la Rue had notified to me what were the objects more particularly deserving of attention in my further progress through Normandy.  Among these, he particularly mentioned a figure or head of William the Conqueror at Falaise.  In the Place St. Gervais, this wonderful head was said to exist—­and to exist there only.  It was at the house of an Innkeeper—­certainly not moving in the highest circle of his calling.  I lost little time in visiting it; and found it situated at the top of a dark narrow staircase, projecting from the wall, to the right, just before you reach the first floor.  Some sensation had been excited by the enquiries, which I had previously set on foot; and on a second visit, several people were collected to receive us.  Lights, warm water, towels, soap and brushes, were quickly put in requisition.  I commenced operations with a kitchen knife, by carefully scraping away all the layers of hardened white and ochre washes, with which each generation had embedded and almost obliterated every feature.  By degrees, the hair became manifest:  then followed the operation of soap and water—­which brought out the features of the face; and when the eyes fully and distinctly appeared, the exclamation of “Mon Dieu!” by the spectators, was loud and unremitting.  The nose had received a serious injury by having its end broken off.  Anon, stood forth the mouth; and when the “whiskered majesty” of the beard became evident, it was quite impossible to repress the simultaneous ejaculation of joy and astonishment ... “Voila le vrai portrait de Guillaume le Conquerant!