_Caen, May_, 1818.
Well, my friend!... I have at length visited the interior of the Abbey of
St. Stephen, and have walked over the grave of WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR and of
MATHILDA his wife. But as you dearly love the gossip of a travelling
journal, I shall take up the thread of my narrative from the place in which
I last addressed you:--particularly as our route hither was marked by some
circumstances worthy of recital. First, however, for _Havre_.
I staid there only long enough to express my regret that the time of my
residence could not be extended. It happened to be a fine afternoon, and I
took a leisurely stroll upon the docks and ramparts.[92] The town was full
of animation--whether relating to business or to pleasure. For the former,
you must visit the quays; for the latter, you must promenade the high
street, and more especially the _Boulevards_, towards the heights. The sun
shone merrily, as it were, upon the thousands of busy, bustling, and
bawling human creatures.. who were in constant locomotion in this latter
place.
What a difference between the respective appearances of the quays of Dieppe
and Havre? Although even _here_ things would assume a rubbishing and
littered aspect compared with the quays at _Liverpool_ or at _Hull_, yet it
must be admitted, for the credit of Gallico-Norman commerce, that the quays
of Havre make a very respectable appearance. You see men fiddling, dancing,
sleeping, sitting, and of course talking _à pleine gorge_, in groups
without end--but no drunkenness!.. not even an English oath saluted my ear.
The Southampton packets land their crews at Havre. I saw the arrival of one
of these packets; and was cruel enough to contrast the animated and elastic
spirits of a host of French _laqnais de place_, tradespeople,
&c.--attacking the passengers with cards of their address--with the feeble
movements and dejected countenances of the objects of their attack.
From the quays, I sauntered along the ramparts, which are flanked by broad
ditches--of course plentifully supplied with water; and passing over the
drawbridge, by which all carriages enter the town--and which absolutely
trembles as if about to sink beneath you, as the _diligence_ rolls over
it.--I made for the boulevards and tea-gardens; to which, business being
well nigh over, the inhabitants of Havre flock by hundreds and by
thousands. A fine afternoon throws every thing into "good keeping"--as the
artists say. The trees, and meadows, and upper lands, were not only bright
with the sun-beam, but the human countenance was lighted up with gladness.
The occupations partook of this joyful character. Accordingly there was
dancing and singing on all sides; a little beyond, appeared to sit a group
of philosophers, or politicians, upon a fantastically cut seat, beneath
laburnums streaming with gold; while, still further, gradually becoming
invisible from the foliage and winding path, strolled pairs in more gentle
discourse! Meanwhile the whoop and halloo of school-boys, in rapid and
ceaseless evolutions, resounded through the air, and heightened the
gratification of the scene....
And young and old came out to play
Upon a sun-shine holiday.
Gaining a considerable ascent, I observed knolls of rich verdure, with fine
spreading trees, and elegant mansions, to be in the foreground--in the
middle-ground, stood the town of Havre:--in the distance, rolled and roared
the expansive ocean! The sun was visibly going to rest; but his departing
beams yet sparkled upon the more prominent points of the picture. There was
no time for finishing the subject. After a stroll of nearly a couple of
hours, on this interesting spot, I retraced my steps over the draw-bridge,
and prepared for objects of _still_ life; in other words, for the
examination of what might be curious and profitable in the shape of a
_boke_.
The lamps were lighted when I commenced my _Bibliomaniacal Voyage_ of
discovery among the BOOKSELLERS. But what poverty of materials, for a man
educated in the schools of Fust and Caxton! To every question, about rare
or old books, I was told that I should have been on the Continent when the
allies first got possession of Paris. In fact, I had not a single
_trouvaille_.
The packet was to sail by nine the next morning, precisely. For a wonder,
(or rather no wonder at all, considering what had occurred during the last
twenty-four hours) I had an excellent night's rest, and was prepared for
breakfast by eight. Having breakfasted, I accompanied my luggage to the
inner harbour, and observed the _Honfleur_ packet swarming with passengers,
and crammed with every species of merchandize: especially tubs, casks,
trunks, cordage, and earthenware. We went on board, and took our stations
near the helm; and after experiencing a good deal of _uncomfortable_
heaving of the ocean, got clear from the mouth of the harbour, and stood
out to sea. The tide was running briskly and strongly into the harbour. We
were in truth closely stowed; and as these packets are built with flattish
bottoms, and low sides, a rough sea would not fail to give to a crew, thus
exposed, the appearance of half-drowned rats. Luckily the wind began to
subside, and by degrees old ocean wore a face of undisturbed serenity. Our
crew was a motley one; but among them, an Abbess, with a visage of
parchment-like rigidity, and with her broad streaming bands, seemed to
experience particular distress. She was surrounded by some hale, hearty
market women, whose robust forms, and copper-tinted countenances, formed a
striking contrast to her own. A little beyond was an old officer or two,
with cocked hats of the usually capacious dimensions. But the poor Abbess
was cruelly afflicted; and in a gesture and tone of voice, of the most
piteous woe, implored the steward of the vessel for accommodation below.
Fortunately, as I was not in the least annoyed by sickness, I had leisure
to survey the heights of Honfleur before we landed; and looking towards the
course of the River Seine, as it narrowed in its windings, I discovered
_Harfleur_ and _Hocher_ nearly opposite; and, a good deal lower down, the
little fishing town of _Quillebeuf_, apparently embedded in the water.
Honfleur itself is surely among the most miserable of fishing towns[93]--or
whatever be the staple commodity that supports it. But the environs make
amends for the squalidness of the town. A few years of peace and plenty
would work wonders even in the improvements of these environs. Perhaps no
situation is more favourable for the luxury of a summer retirement.[94] I
paid only eight sous for my passage; and having no passport to be _viséd_
(which indeed was the case at Havre,) we selected a stout lad or two, from
the crowds of lookers on, as we landed, to carry our luggage to the inn
from which the diligence sets off for CAEN. It surprised us to see with
what alacrity these lads carried the baggage up a steep hill in their
trucks, or barrows; but we were disgusted with the miserable forms, and
miserable clothing, of both sexes, which we encountered as we proceeded. I
was fortunate to be in time to secure my place in the Diligence. The horses
were in the very act of being put to, as I paid my reckoning beforehand.
Judge of our surprise and gratification on seeing two well-dressed, and
apparently well-bred Englishmen, securing their places at the same time. It
is not always that, at first sight, Englishmen associate so quickly, and
apparently so cordially, as did these gentlemen with ourselves. They were
the Messrs. D*** of _L_**** _Hall_ in Yorkshire: the elder brother an
Oxford man of the same standing with myself. The younger, a Cantab. We were
all bound for Caen; and right gladly did we coalesce upon this expedition.
We proceeded at a good sharp pace; and as we ascended the very high hill on
the direct road to Caen, with fine leafy trees on each side, and upon a
noble breadth of road, I looked out of the diligence to enjoy the truly
magnificent view of the Seine--with glimpses of _Harfleur_ and _Havre_ on
the opposite coast. The cessation of the rain, and the quick movement of
the vehicle, enabled me to do this in a tolerably commodious manner. The
ground however seemed saturated, and the leaves glistened with the
incumbent moisture. There was a sort of pungent freshness of scent
abroad--and a rich pasture land on each side gave the most luxuriant
appearance to the landscape. Nature indeed seemed to have fructified every
thing in a manner at once spontaneous and perfect. The face of the country
is pasture-land throughout; that is to say, there are comparatively few
orchards and little arable. I was told to pay attention to the cattle, for
that the farmers prided themselves on their property of this kind. They may
pride themselves--if they please: but their pride is not of a lofty cast of
character. I have been in Lincolnshire, Herefordshire, and
Gloucestershire--and have seen and enjoyed, in these counties, groups of
cattle which appeared calculated for the land and the table of giants,
compared with the Lilliputian objects, of the bucoline species, which were
straying, in thin flocks, through the luxuriant pastures of Normandy. That
triumphant and immutable maxim of "small bone and large carcase" seems,
alas! to be unknown in these regions.
However, on we rode--and gazed on all sides. At length we reached _Pont
L'Eveque_, a pretty long stage; where we dined (says my journal) upon roast
fowl, asparagus, trout, and an excellent omelette, with two good bottles of
vin ordinaire--which latter, for four Englishmen, was commendably moderate.
During dinner the rain came down again in yet heavier torrents--the gutters
foamed, and the ground smoked with the unceasing fall of the water. In the
midst of this aquatic storm, we toasted Old England right merrily and
cordially; and the conducteur, seeing us in good humour, told us that "we
need not hurry, for that he preferred a dry journey to a wet one." We
readily assented to this position; but within half an hour, the weather
clearing, we remounted: and by four o'clock, we all got inside--and
politics, religion, literature, and the fine arts, kept us in constant
discourse and good humour as we rolled on for many a league. All the way to
_Troarn_ (the last stage on this side of Caen) the country presents a truly
lovely picture of pasture land. There are occasionally some wooded heights,
in which English wealth and English taste would have raised villas of the
prettiest forms, and with most commanding views. Yet there is nothing to be
mentioned in the same breath with the country about Rodwell in
Glocestershire. Nor are the trees of the same bulk and luxuriant foliage as
are those in our own country. A fine oak is as rare as an uncut _Wynkyn de
Worde_:[95] but creeping rivulets, rich coppice wood, avenues of elms and
limes, and meadows begemmed with butter-cups--these are the characteristics
of the country through which we were passing. It is in vain however you
look for neat villas or consequential farm houses: and as rarely do you see
groups of villagers reposing, or in action. A dearth of population gives to
French landscape a melancholy and solitary cast of character. It is in
cities that you must look for human beings--and _for_ cities the French
seem to have been created.
It was at _Troarn_, I think, or at some halting place beyond, that our
passports were demanded, and the examination of our trunks solicited. We
surrendered our keys most willingly. The gentlemen, with their cocked hats
and blue jackets--having a belt from which a sword was suspended--consulted
together for a minute only--returned our keys--and telling us that matters
would be thoroughly looked into at Caen, said they would give us no
trouble. We were of course not sorry at this determination--and the Messrs.
D---and myself getting once more into the cabriolet, (a postboy being
secured for the leaders) we began to screw up our spirits and curiosity for
a view of the steeples of CAEN. Unluckily the sun had set, and the horizon
had become gloomy, when we first discovered the spires of _St. Stephen's
Abbey_--the principal ecclesiastical edifice at Caen. It was hard upon nine
o'clock; and the evening being extremely dusky, we had necessarily a very
indistinct view of the other churches--but, to my eye, as seen in a
lengthened view, and through a deceitful atmosphere, Caen had the
appearance of OXFORD on a diminutive scale. The town itself, like our
famous University, is built in a slanting direction; though the surrounding
country is yet flatter than about Oxford. As we entered it, all the
population seemed collected to witness our arrival. From solitude we
plunged at once into tumult, bustle, and noise. We stopped at the _Hotel
d'Espagne--_a large, but black and begrimed mansion. Here our luggage was
taken down; and here we were assailed by garçons de place, with cards in
their hands, intreating us to put up at their respective hotels. We had
somehow got a recommendation to the _Hotel Royale, Place Royale_, and such
a union of _royal_ adjuncts was irresistible. Accordingly, we resolved upon
moving thither. In a trice our trunks were placed upon barrows: and we
marched behind, "in double quick time," in order to secure our property.
The town appeared to improve as we made our different turnings, and gained
upon our hotel. "Le voilà, Messieurs"--exclaimed our guides and
baggage-conductors--as we got into a goodly square, and saw a fair and
comely mansion in front. The rush of landlord, waiting maids, and garçons
de place, encountered us as we entered. "Messieurs, je vous salue,"--said a
huge, ungracious looking figure:--which said figure was nothing less than
the master of the hotel--Mons. Lagouelle. We were shown into a small room
on the ground floor, to the right--and ordered tea; but had scarcely begun
to enjoy the crackling blaze of a plentiful wood fire, when the same
ungracious figure took his seat by the side of us ... to tell us "all about
THE DUEL."
I had heard (from an English gentleman in the packet boat from Havre to
Honfleur) something respecting this most extraordinary duel between a young
Englishman and a young Frenchman: but as I mean to reserve my _Caen budget_
for a distinct dispatch, and as I have yet hardly tarried twenty hours in
this place, I must bid you adieu; only adding that I dreamt, last night,
about some English antiquaries trying to bend the bow of William the
Conqueror!--Can this be surprising? Again farewell.
[92] Evelyn, who visited Havre in 1644, when the Duke de Richlieu was
governor, describes the citadel as "strong and regular, well stored
with artillery, &c. The works furnished with faire brass canon, having
a motto, "_Ratio ultima Regum_." The haven is very spacious." _Life
and Writings of John Evelyn_, edit. 1818, vol. i. p. 51. Havre seems
always to have been a place of note and distinction in more senses
than one. In Zeiller's _Topographia Galliae,_ (vol. iii.) there is a
view of it, about the period in which Evelyn saw it, by Jacques
Gomboust, Ingénieur du Roy, from which it appears to have been a very
considerable place. Forty-two principal buildings and places are
referred to in the directions; and among them we observe the
BOULEVARDS DE RICHELIEU.
[93] It was so in Evelyn's time: in 1644, "It is a poore fisher
towne (says he) remarkable for nothing so much as the odd yet usefull
habites which the good women weare, of beares and other skinns, as of
raggs at Dieppe, and all along these coasts." _Life and Writings of
J. Evelyn_; 1818, 4to. vol. i. p. 51.
[94] [It is near a chapel, on one of the heights of this town, that Mr.
Washington Irving fixes one of his most exquisitely drawn characters,
ANNETTE DELABRE, as absorbed in meditation and prayer respecting the
fate of her lover; and I have a distinct recollection of a beautiful
piece of composition, by one of our most celebrated artists, in which
the _Heights of Honfleur_, with women kneeling before a crucifix
in the foreground, formed a most beautiful composition. The name of
the artist (was it the younger Mr. Chalon?) I have forgotten.]
[95] [My translator says, "un Wynkyn de Worde non coupé:" Qu. Would not the
_Debure_ Vocabulary have said "non rogné?"]