THE QUAYS. BRIDGE OF BOATS. RUE DU BAC. RUE DE ROBEC. EAUX DE ROBEC ET
D'AUBETTE. MONT STE. CATHARINE. HOSPICES--GÉNÉRAL ET D'HUMANITÉ.
Still tarrying within this old fashioned place? I have indeed yet much to
impart before I quit it, and which I have no scruple in avowing will be
well deserving of your attention.
Just letting you know, in few words, that I have visited the famous
chemical laboratory of M. Vitalis, (_Rue Beauvoisine_) and the yet more
wonderful spectacle exhibited in M. Lemere's machine for sawing wood of all
descriptions, into small or large planks, by means of water works--I must
take you along THE QUAYS for a few minutes. These quays are flanked by an
architectural front, which, were it finished agreeably to the original
plan, would present us with one of the noblest structures in Europe. This
stone front was begun in the reign of Louis XV. but many and prosperous
must be the years of art, of commerce, and of peace, before money
sufficient can be raised for the successful completion of the pile. The
quays are long, broad, and full of bustle of every description; while in
some of the contiguous squares, ponderous bales of goods, shawls, cloth,
and linen, are spread open to catch the observing eye. In the midst of this
varied and animated scene, walks a well-known character, in his large
cocked hat, and with his tin machine upon his back, filled with lemonade or
coffee, surmounted by a bell--which "ever and anon" is sounded for the sake
of attracting customers. He is here copied to the life.
[Illustration]
As you pass along this animated scene, by the side of the rapid Seine, and
its _Bridge of Boats_, you cannot help glancing now and then down the
narrow old-fashioned streets, which run at right angles with the
quays--with the innumerable small tile-fashioned pieces of wood, like
scales, upon the roofs--which seem as if they would be demolished by every
blast. The narrowness and gloom of these streets, together with the bold
and overwhelming projections of the upper stories and roofs, afford a
striking contrast to the animated scene upon the quays:--where the sun
shines with full freedom, as it were; and where the glittering streamers,
at innumerable mast-heads, denote the wealth and prosperity of the town. If
the day happen to be fine, you may devote half a morning in contemplating,
and mingling with, so interesting a scene.
We have had frequent thunder-storms of late; and the other Sunday evening,
happening to be sauntering at a considerable height above the north-west
Boulevards, towards the _Faubourg Cauchoise_, I gained a summit, upon the
edge of a gravel pit, whence I looked down unexpectedly and precipitously
upon the town below. A magnificent and immense cloud was rolling over the
whole city. The Seine was however visible on the other side of it, shining
like a broad silver chord: while the barren, ascending plains, through
which the road to Caen passes, were gradually becoming dusk with the
overshadowing cloud, and drenched with rain which seemed to be rushing down
in one immense torrent. The tops of the Cathedral and of the abbey of St.
Ouen were almost veiled in darkness, by the passing storm; but the lower
part of the tower, and the whole of the nave of each building, were in one
stream of golden light--from the last powerful rays of the setting sun. In
ten minutes this magically-varied scene settled into the sober, uniform
tint of evening; but I can never forget the rich bed of purple and pink,
fringed with burnished gold, in which the sun of that evening set! I
descended--absorbed in the recollection of the lovely objects which I had
just contemplated--and regaled by the sounds of a thousand little gurgling
streamlets, created by the passing tempest, and hastening to precipitate
themselves into the Seine.
Of the different trades, especially retail, which are carried on in Rouen
with the greatest success, those connected with the _cotton manufactories_
cannot fail to claim your attention; and I fancied I saw, in some of the
shop-windows, shawls and gowns which might presume to vie with our
Manchester and Norwich productions. Nevertheless, I learnt that the French
were extremely partial to British manufactures: and cotton stockings,
coloured muslins, and what are called ginghams, are coveted by them with
the same fondness as we prize their cambric and their lace. Their best
articles in watches, clocks, silver ornaments, and trinkets, are obtained
from Paris. But in respect to upholstery, I must do the Rouennois the
justice to say, that I never saw any thing to compare with their
_escrutoires_ and other articles of furniture made of the walnut tree.
These upright escrutoires, or writing desks, are in almost every bed-room
of the more respectable hotels: but of course their polish is gone when
they become stationary furniture in an inn--for the art of rubbing, or what
is called _elbow-grease_ with us--is almost unknown on either side of the
Seine. You would be charmed to have a fine specimen of a side board, or an
escrutoire, (the latter five or six feet high) made by one of their best
cabinet-makers from choice walnut wood. The polish and tone of colour are
equally gratifying; and resemble somewhat that of rose wood, but of a gayer
aspect. The _or-molu_ ornaments are tastefully put on; but the general
shape, or contour, of the several pieces of furniture, struck me as being
in bad taste.
He who wishes to be astonished by the singularity of a scene, connected
with _trade_, should walk leisurely down the RUE DE ROBEC. It is surely the
oddest, and as some may think, the most repulsive scene imaginable: But who
that has a rational curiosity could resist such a walk? Here live the
_dyers of clothes_--and in the middle of the street rushes the precipitous
stream, called _L'Eau de Robec_[67]--receiving colours of all hues. To-day
it is nearly jet black: to-morrow it is bright scarlet: a third day it is
blue, and a fourth day it is yellow! Meanwhile it is partially concealed by
little bridges, communicating with the manufactories, or with that side of
the street where the work-people live: and the whole has a dismal and
disagreeable aspect--especially in dirty weather: but if you go to one end
of it (I think to the east--as it runs east and west) and look down upon
the descending street, with the overhanging upper stories and roofs--the
foreshortened, numerous bridges--the differently-coloured dyed clothes,
suspended from the windows, or from poles--the constant motion of men,
women, and children, running across the bridges--with the rapid, _camelion_
stream beneath--you cannot fail to acknowledge that this is one of the most
singular, grotesque, and uncommon sights in the wonder-working city of
Rouen. I ought to tell you that the first famous Cardinal d'Amboise (of
whom the preceding pages have made such frequent honourable mention) caused
the _Eau de Robec_ to be directed through the streets of Rouen, from its
original channel or source in a little valley near _St. Martin du Vivien_.
Formerly there was a much more numerous clan of these "teinturiers" in the
Rue de Robec--but they have of late sought more capacious premises in the
fauxbourgs _de St. Hilaire_ and _de Martainville_. The neighbouring
sister-stream, _l'Eau d'Aubette_, is destined to the same purposes as that
of which I have been just discoursing; but I do not at this moment
recollect whether it be also dignified, in its course, by turning a few
corn mills, ere it empties itself into the Seine. Indeed the thundering
noise of one of these mills, turned by the Robec river, near the church of
St. Maclou, will not be easily forgotten. Thus you see of what various,
strange, and striking objects the city of Rouen is composed. Bustle, noise,
life and activity, in the midst of an atmosphere unsullied by the fumes of
sea coal:--hilarity and apparent contentment:--the spruce bourgeoise and
the slattern fille de chambre:--attired in vestments of deep crimson and
dark blue--every thing flits before you as if touched by magic, and as if
sorrow and misfortune were unknown to the inhabitants.
"Paullò majora canamus." In other words, let us leave the Town for the
Country. Let us hurry through a few more narrow and crowded alleys, courts,
and streets--and as the morning is yet beautiful, let us hasten onwards to
enjoy the famous Panorama of Rouen and its environs from the MONT STE.
CATHARINE.... Indeed, my friend, I sincerely wish that you could have
accompanied me to the summit of this enchanting eminence: but as you are
far away, you must be content with a brief description of our little
expedition thither.[68] The Mont Ste. Catharine, which is entirely chalk,
is considered the highest of the hills in the immediate vicinity of Rouen;
or rather, perhaps, is considered the point of elevation from which the
city is to be viewed to the greatest possible advantage. It lies to the
left of the Seine, in your way from the town; and the ascent begins
considerably beyond the barriers. Indeed it is on the route to Paris. We
took an excellent _fiacre_ to carry us to the beginning of the ascent, that
our legs might be in proper order for scrambling up the acclivities
immediately above; and leaving the main road to the right, we soon
commenced our ambulatory operations in good earnest. But there was not much
labour or much difficulty: so, halting, or standing, or sitting, on each
little eminence, our admiration seemed to encrease--till, gaining the
highest point, looking towards the west, we found ourselves immediately
above the town and the whole of its environs....
"Heavens, what a goodly prospect spread around!"
The prospect was indeed "goodly--" being varied, extensive, fertile, and
luxuriant ... in spite of a comparatively backward spring. The city was the
main object, not only of attraction, but of astonishment. Although the
point from which we viewed it is considered to be exactly on a level with
the summit of the spire of the Cathedral, yet we seemed to be hanging, as
it were, in the air, immediately over the streets themselves. We saw each
church, each public edifice, and almost each street; nay, we began to think
we could discover almost every individual stirring in them. The soldiers,
exercising on the parade in the Champ de Mars, seemed to be scarcely two
stones' throw from us; while the sounds of their music reached us in the
most distinct and gratifying manner. No "Diable boiteux" could ever have
transported a "Don Cleophas Léandro Perez Zambullo" to a more favourable
situation for a knowledge of what was passing in a city; and if the houses
had been unroofed, we could have almost discerned whether the _escrutoires_
were made of mahogany or walnut-wood! This wonder-working effect proceeds
from the extraordinary clearness of the atmosphere, and the absence of
sea-coal fume. The sky was perfectly blue--the generality of the roofs were
also composed of blue slate: this, added to the incipient verdure of the
boulevards, and the darker hues of the trunks of the trees, upon the
surrounding hills--the lengthening forests to the left, and the numerous
white "maisons de plaisance"[69] to the right--while the Seine, with its
hundred vessels, immediately below, to the left, and in face of you--with
its cultivated little islands--and the sweeping meadows or race-ground[70]
on the other side--all, or indeed any, of these objects could not fail to
excite our warmest admiration, and to make us instinctively exclaim "that
such a panorama was perfectly unrivalled!"
We descended Mont Ste. Catharine on the side facing the _Hospice Général_:
a building of a very handsome form, and considerable dimensions. It is a
noble establishment for foundlings, and the aged and infirm of both sexes.
I was told that not fewer than twenty-five hundred human beings were
sheltered in this asylum; a number, which equally astonished and delighted
me. The descent, on this side the hill, is exceedingly pleasing; being
composed of serpentine little walks, through occasional alleys of trees and
shrubs, to the very base of the hill, not many hundred yards from the
hospital. The architecture of this extensive building is more mixed than
that of its neighbour the _Hospice d'Humanité_, on account of the different
times in which portions of it were added: but, upon the whole, you are
rather struck with its approach to what may be called magnificence of
style. I was indeed pleased with the good order and even good breeding of
its motley inhabitants. Some were strolling quietly, with their arms behind
them, between rows of trees:--others were tranquilly sitting upon benches:
a third group would be in motion within the squares of the building: a
fourth appeared in deep consultation whether the _potage_ of to day were
not inferior to that of the preceding day?--"Que cherchez vous, Monsieur?"
said a fine looking old man, touching, and half taking off, his cocked hat;
"I wish to see the Abbé Turquier,"--rejoined I. "Ah, il vient de
sortir--par ici, Monsieur." "Thank you." "Monsieur je vous souhaite le bon
jour--au plaisir de vous revoir!" And thus I paced through the squares of
this vast building. The "Portier" had a countenance which our Wilkie would
have seized with avidity, and copied with inimitable spirit and fidelity.
[67] Bourgueville describes this river, in the sixteenth century, as being
"aucune fois iaulne, autrefois rouge, verte, bleüe, violée & autres
couleurs, selon qu'vn grand nombre de teinturiers qui sont dessus, la
diuersifient par interualles en faisant leurs maneures." _Antiquitez
de Caen_, p. 36.
[68] _expedition thither_.]--When John Evelyn visited this
neighbourhood, in 1644, "the country so abounded with _wolves_, that a
shepherd, whom he met, told him that one of his companions was
strangled by one of them the day before--and that, in the midst of the
flock! The fields (continues he) are mostly planted with pears and
apples and other cider fruits. It is plentifully furnished with
quarries of stone and slate, and hath iron in abundance." _Memoirs of
the Life and Writings of John Evelyn_, vol. i. p. 50. Edit. 1818. My
friend Mr. J. H. Markland visited Mont St. Catharine the year after
the visit above described. He was of course enchanted with the view;
and told me, that a friend whom he met there, and who had travelled
pretty much in Italy, assured him there was nothing like it on the
banks of either the _Arno_ or the _Po_. In short, it is quite peculiar
to itself--and cannot be surpassed.
[69] It is thus prettily observed in the little _Itineraire de Rouen_
--"Ces agréables maisons de plaisance appartiennent à des habitants de
Rouen qui y viennent en famille, dans la belle saison, se délasser des
embarras de la ville et des fatigues du commerce." p. 153.
[70] _race-ground_]--When the English cavalry were quartered here in
1814-5, the officers were in the frequent habit of racing with each
other. These races were gaily attended by the inhabitants; and I
heard, from more than one mouth, the warmest commendations bestowed
upon the fleetness of the coursers and the skill of the riders.