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TRAVELS THROUGH THE SOUTH OF FRANCE,
AND
IN THE INTERIOR OF THE PROVINCES
OF
PROVENCE AND LANGUEDOC, IN THE YEARS 1807 AND 1808,
BY A ROUTE NEVER BEFORE PERFORMED, BEING ALONG THE BANKS OF
THE LOIRE, THE ISERE, AND THE GARONNE,
THROUGH THE GREATER PART OF THEIR COURSE.
MADE BY PERMISSION OF THE FRENCH GOVERNMENT.
BY LIEUTENANT-COLONEL PINKNEY, OF THE NORTH AMERICAN NATIVE RANGERS.
_LONDON_:
PRINTED FOR T. PURDAY AND SON, NO. 1, PATERNOSTER-ROW, AND TO BE HAD OF
ALL BOOKSELLERS: BY B. McMILLAN, BOW STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1809.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. I.
_Anxiety to see France--Departure from Baltimore--Singular
Adventures of the Captain--Character--Employment during
the Voyage--Arrival at Liverpool--Stay--Departure for Calais_
CHAP. II.
_Morning View of Port--Arrival and landing--A Day at Calais--French
Market, and Prices of Provisions_
CHAP. III.
_Purchase of a Norman Horse--Visit in the Country--Family of
a French Gentleman--Elegance of French domestic Economy--Dance
on the Green--Return to Calais_
CHAP. IV.
_French Cottages--Ludicrous Exhibition--French Travellers--Chaise
de Poste--Posting in France--Departure from Calais--Beautiful
Vicinity of Boulogne_
CHAP. V.
_Boulogne--Dress of the Inhabitants--The Pier--Theatre--Caution
in the Exchange of Money--Beautiful Landscape, and
Conversation with a French Veteran_--_Character of Mr.
Parker's Hotel_--_Departure, and romantic Road_--_Fete Champetre
in a Village on a Hill at Montreuil_--_Ruined Church and
Convent_,
CHAP. VI.
_Departure from Montreuil_--_French Conscripts_--_Extreme Youth_--_Excellent
Roads_--_Country Labourers_--_Court for the Claims
of Emigrants_--_Abbeville_--_Companion on the Road_--_Amiens_,
CHAP. VII.
_General Character of the Town_--_Public Walk_--_Gardens_--_Half-yearly
Fair_--_Gaining Houses_--_Table d'Hotes_--_English at
Amiens_--_Expence of Living_,
CHAP. VIII.
_French and English Roads compared_--_Gaiety of French
Labourers_--_Breteuil_--_Apple-trees
in the midst of Corn-fields_--_Beautiful
Scenery_--_Cheap Price of Land in France_--_Clermont_--_Bad
Management of the French Farmers_--_Chantilly_-_Arrival
at Paris_,
CHAP. IX.
_A Week in Paris_--_Objects and Occurrences_--_National Library_--_A
French Rout_--_Fashionable French Supper_--_Conceits_--_Presentation
at Court_--_Audience_,
CHAP. X.
_Departure from Paris for the Loire_--_Breakfast at Palaiseau_--_A
Peasant's Wife_--_Rambouillet_--_Magnificent Chateau_--_French
Cure_--_Chartres_--_Difference of Old French and English
Towns--Subterraneous Church_--_Curious Preservation of
the Dead_--_Angers_--_Arrival at Nantes_,
CHAP. XI.
_Nantes_--_Beautiful Situation_--_Analogy of Architecture with the
Character of its Age_--_Singular Vow of Francis the Second_--_Departure
from Nantes_--_Country between Nantes and Angers_--_Angers_,
CHAP. XII.
_Angers_--_Situation_--_Antiquity and Face of the Town_--_Grand_
_Cathedral_--_Markets_--_Prices of Provisions_--_Public Walks_--_Manners
and Diversions of the Inhabitants--Departure from_
_Angers_--_Country between Angers and Saumur_--_Saumur_,
CHAP. XIII.
_Tours_--_Situation and general Appearance of it_--_Origin of the
Name of Huguenots_--_Cathedral Church of St. Martin_--_The
Quay_--_Markets_--_Public Walk_--_Classes of
Inhabitants_--_Environs_--_Expences
of Living_--_Departure from Tours_--_Country
between Tours and Amboise_,
CHAP. XIV.
_Lovely Country between Amboise and Blois--Ecures_--_Beautiful
Village_--_French Harvesters--Chousi_--_Village
Inn_--_Blois_--_Situation_--_Church_--_Market_--_Price
of Provisions_,
CHAP. XV.
_Houses in Chalk Hills_--_Magnificent Castle at Chambord_--_Return
from Chambord by Moon-light_--_St. Laurence on the
Waters_,
CHAP. XVI.
_Comparative Estimate of French and English Country Inns--Tremendous
Hail Storm_--_Country Masquerade_--_La Charite_--_Beauty
and Luxuriance of its Environs_--_Nevers_--_Fille-de-Chambre_--_Lovely
Country between Nevers and Moulins_-_Treading
Corn_--_Moulins_--_Price of Provisions_
CHAP. XVII.
_Country between Moulins and Rouane_--_Bresle_--_Account of the
Provinces of the Nivernois and Bourbonnois_--_Climate_--_Face
of the Country_--_Soil_--_Natural Produce_--_Agricultural Produce_--_Kitchen
Garden--French Yeomen--Landlords_--_Price
of Land_--_Leases_--_General Character of the French Provincial
Farmers_
CHAP. XVIII.
_Lyons_--_Town-Hall_--_Hotel de Dieu_--_Manufactories_--_Price of
Provisions_--_State of Society_--_Hospitality to Strangers_--_Manners_--_Mode
of Living_--_Departure_--_Vienne_--_French Lovers_
CHAP. XIX.
_Avignon_--_Situation_--_Climate_--_Streets and Houses_--_Public
Buildings_--_Palace_--_Cathedral_--_Petrarch and Laura_--_Society
at Avignon--Ladies_--_Public Walks-_--_Prices of Provisions_--_Markets_
CHAP. XX.
_Departure from Avignon_--_Olive and Mulberry Fields_--_Orgon_--_St.
Canat_--_French Divorces_--_Inn at St.
Canat_--_Aix_--_Situation_--_Cathedral_--_Society_--_Provisions_--_Price
of Land--Marseilles_--_Conclusion_
A
TOUR,
&c. &c.
CHAP. I.
_Anxiety to see France--Departure from Baltimore--Singular
Adventures of the Captain--Character--Employment during
the Voyage--Arrival at Liverpool--Stay--Departure for Calais._
FROM my earliest life I had most anxiously wished to visit France--a
country which, in arts and science, and in eminent men, both of former
ages and of the present times, stands in the foremost rank of civilized
nations. What a man wishes anxiously, he seldom fails, at one period or
other, to accomplish. An opportunity at length occurred--the situation
of my private affairs, as well as of my public duties, admitted of my
absence.
I embarked at Baltimore for Liverpool in the month of April, 1807. The
vessel, which was a mere trader, and which had likewise some connexions
at Calais, was to sail for Liverpool in the first instance, and thence,
after the accomplishment of some private affairs, was to pass to Calais,
and thence home. I do not profess to understand the business of
merchants; but I must express my admiration at the ingenuity with which
they defy and elude the laws of all countries. I suppose, however, that
this is considered as perfectly consistent with mercantile honour. Every
trader has a morality of his own; and without any intention of
depreciating the mercantile class, so far I must be allowed to say, that
the merchants are not very strict in their morality. Trade may improve
the wealth of a nation, but it most certainly does not improve their
morals.
The Captain with whom I sailed was a true character. Captain Eliab
Jones, as he related his history to me, was the son of a very
respectable clergyman in the West of England. His mother died when he
was a boy about twelve years of age, leaving his father with a very
large family. The father married again. Young Eliab either actually was,
or fancifully believed himself to be, ill-treated by his step-mother.
Under this real or imaginary suffering he eloped from his father's
house; and making the best of his way for a sea-port, bound himself
apprentice to the master of a coasting vessel. In this manner he
continued to work, to use his own expressions, like a galley-slave for
five years, when he obtained the situation of mate of an Indiaman. He
progressively rose, till he happened unfortunately to quarrel with his
Captain, which induced him to quit the service of the Company. In the
course of his voyages to India, and in the Indian seas, he made what he
thought an important discovery relative to the southern whale fishery:
he communicated it to a mercantile house upon his return, and was
employed by them in the speculation. He now, however, became unfortunate
for the first time: his ship was wrecked off the island of Olaheite, and
the crew and himself compelled to remain for two or three years on that
barbarous but beautiful island.
Such is the outline of Captain Eliab's adventures, with the detail of
which he amused me during our voyage. His character, however, deserves
some mention. If there is an honest man under the canopy of Heaven, it
was Captain Eliab; but his honesty was so plain and downright, so simple
and unqualified, that I know not how to describe it than by the plain
terms, that he was a strictly just and upright man. He had a sense of
honour--a natural feeling of what was right--which seemed extraordinary,
when compared with the irregular course of his life. Had he passed
through every stage of education, had he been formed from his childhood
to manhood under the anxious supervision of the most exemplary parents,
he could not have been more strict. I most sincerely hope, that it will
be hereafter my fortune to meet with this estimable man, and to
enumerate him amongst my friends. I must conclude this brief character
of him by one additional trait. A more pious Christian, but without
presbyterianism, did not exist than Captain Eliab. He attributed all his
good fortune to the blessing of Providence; and if any man was an
example that virtue, even in this life, has its reward, it was Captain
Eliab. In dangers common to many, he had repeatedly almost alone
escaped.
I had no other companion but the worthy Captain: I was his only
passenger, and we passed much of our time in the reading of his voyages,
of which he had kept an ample journal. His education having been rude
and imperfect, the style of his writing was more forcible than pure or
correct. I thought his account so interesting, and in many points so
important, that I endeavoured to persuade him to give it to the public;
and to induce him to it, offered to assist him, during our voyage, in
putting it into form. The worthy man accepted my offer, but I found that
I had undertaken a work to which I was unequal. I laboured, however,
incessantly, and before our arrival had completed so much of it, as to
induce the Captain to put it into the hands of a bookseller, by whom, as
I have since understood, it was transferred into the hands of a literary
gentleman to complete. In some misfortune the manuscript has been lost;
and the Captain being in America, there is probably an end of it for
ever. All I can now say is, that the public have sustained an important
loss.
In this employment our voyage, upon my part at least, passed
unperceived, and I was at Liverpool, before I was well sensible that I
had left America. Nothing is more tedious than a sea voyage, age, to
those whose minds, are intent only upon their passage. In travelling by
land, the mind is recreated by variety, and relieved by the novelty of
the successive objects which pass before it; but in a voyage by sea, it
is inconceivable how wearisome are the sameness and uniformity, which,
day after day, meet the eye. When I could not otherwise occupy my mind,
I endeavoured to force myself into a doze, that I might have a chance of
a dream. One of the best rules of philosophy is, that happiness is an
art--a science--a habit and quality of mind, which self-management may
in a great degree command and procure. Experience has taught me that
this is true. I had made many sea voyages before this, and therefore had
repeated proofs of the observation of Lord Bacon, that, of all human
progresses, nothing is so barren of all possibility of remark as a
voyage by sea; nothing, therefore, is so irksome, to a mind of any
vigour or activity. If a man, by long habit, has obtained the knack of
retiring into himself--of putting all his faculties to perfect rest, and
becoming like the mast of the vessel--a sea voyage may suit him; but to
those who cannot sleep in an hammock eighteen hours out of the
twenty-four, I would recommend any thing but travel by sea. Cato, as his
Aphorisms inform us, never repented but of two things; and the one was,
that he went a journey by sea when he might have gone it by land.
The sight of land, after a long voyage, is delightful in the extreme;
and I experienced the truth of another remark, that it might be smelt as
we approached, even when beyond our sight. I do not know to what to
compare its peculiar odour, but the sensations very much resemble those
which are excited by the freshness of the country, after leaving a
thick-built and smoky city. The sea air is infinitely more sharp than
the land air; and as you approach the land, and compare the two, you
discover the greater humidity of the one. The sea air, however, has one
most extraordinary quality--it removes a cough or cold almost
instantaneously. The temperance, moreover, which it compels in those who
cannot eat sea provisions, is very conducive to health.
We reached Liverpool without any accident; and as the Captain's business
was of a nature which would necessarily detain him for some days, I
availed myself of the opportunity, and visited the British metropolis.
No city has been more improved within a short period than London. When I
saw it before, which was in my earlier days, there were innumerable
narrow streets, and miserable alleys, where there are now squares, or
long and broad streets, reaching from one end of the town to the other:
I observed this particularly, in the long street which extends from
Charing Cross to the Parliament Houses. In England, both government and
people concur in this improvement.
From London, finding I had sufficient time, I visited Canterbury, and
thence Dover. If I were to fix in England, it should be in Canterbury.
The country is rich and delightful; and the society, consisting chiefly
of those attached to the cathedral church, and to such of their families
as have fixed there, elegant, and well informed, I have heard, and I
believe it, that Salisbury and Canterbury are the two most elegant
towns, in this respect, in England, and that many wealthy foreigners
have in consequence made them their residence.
Dover is an horrible place--a nest of fishermen and smugglers: a noble
beach is hampered by rope-works, and all the filth attendant upon them.
I never saw an excellent and beautiful natural situation so miserably
spoilt.
The Captain being ready, and my necessary papers procured, I joined, and
having set sail, we were alternately tossed and becalmed for nearly
three weeks, and almost daily in sight of land. Some of the spring winds
in the English seas are very violent. A favourable breeze at length
sprung up, and we flew before the wind. "If this continues," said our
Captain, "we shall reach Calais before daylight." This was at sunset;
and we had been so driven to sea by a contrary wind on the preceding
day, that neither the coast of England nor France were visible. From
Dover to Calais the voyage is frequently made in four hours.
Several observations very forcibly struck me in the course of my
passage, one of which I must be allowed to mention. I had repeatedly
heard, and now knew from experience, the immense superiority of the
English commerce over that of France and every nation in the world; but
till I had made this voyage, I never had a sufficient conception of the
degree of this superiority. I have no hesitation to say, that for one
French vessel there were two hundred English. The English fleet has
literally swept the seas of all the ships of their enemies; and a French
ship is so rare, as to be noted in a journal across the Atlantic, as a
kind of phenomenon. A curious question here suggests itself--Will the
English Government be so enabled to avail themselves of this maritime
superiority, as to counterweigh against the continental predominance of
the French Emperor?--Can the Continent be reconquered at sea?--Will the
French Emperor exchange the kingdoms of Europe for West India Colonies;
or is he too well instructed in the actual worth of these Colonies, to
purchase them at any price?--These questions are important, and an
answer to them might illustrate the fate of Europe, and the probable
termination of the war.
I must not omit one advice to travellers by sea. The biscuit in a long
voyage becomes uneatable, and flower will not keep. I was advised by a
friend, as a remedy against this inconvenience, to take a large store of
what are called gingerbread nuts, made without yeast, and hotly spiced.
I kept them close in a tin cannister, and carefully excluded the air. I
found them most fully to answer the purpose: they were very little
injured when I reached Liverpool, and, I believe, would have sustained
no damage whatever, if I had as carefully excluded the air as at first.
CHAP. II.
_Morning View of Port--Arrival and landing--A Day at Calais.--French
Market, and Prices of Provisions._
THE Master's prediction proved true, and indeed in a shorter time than
he had expected. An unusual bustle on the deck awakened me about
midnight; and as my anxious curiosity would not suffer me to remain in
my hammock, I was shortly upon deck, and was told in answer to my
inquiries, that a fine breeze had sprung up to the south-west, and that
we should reach the port of our destination by day-break. This
intelligence, added to the fineness of the night, which was still clear,
would have induced me to remain above, but by a violent blow from one of
the ropes, I was soon given to understand that it was prudent for me to
retire. The crew and ship seemed each to partake of the bustle and
agitation of each other; the masts bent, the timbers cracked, and ropes
flew about in all directions.
It may be imagined, that though returning to my hammock, I did not
return to my repose. I lay in all the restlessness of expectation till
day-break, when the Captain summoned me upon deck by the grateful
intelligence that we were entering the port of Calais. Hurrying upon
deck, I beheld a spectacle which immediately dispelled all the uneasy
sensations attendant upon a sleepless night. It was one of the finest
mornings of the latter end of June; the sun had not risen, but the
heavens were already painted with his ascending glories. I repeated in a
kind of poetical rapture the inimitable metaphoric epithet of the Poet
of Nature; an epithet preserved so faithfully, and therefore with so
much genius, by his English translator, Pope. The rosy-fingered morn,
indeed, appeared in all her plenitude of natural beauty; and the Sun,
that he might not long lose the sight of his lovely spouse, followed her
steps very shortly, and exhibited himself just surmounting the hills to
the east of Calais.
The sea was unruffled, and we were sailing towards the pier with full
sail, and a gentle morning breeze. The land and town, at first faint,
became gradually more distinct and enlarged, till we at length saw the
people on shore hurrying down to the pier, so as to be present at our
anchoring and debarkation. The French in general are much earlier risers
than either the Americans or the English; and by the time we were off
the pier, about seven in the morning, half of the town of Calais were
out to receive and welcome us. The French, moreover, as on every
occasion of my intercourse with them I found them afterwards, appeared
to me to be equally prominently different from all nations in another
quality--a prompt and social nature, a natural benevolence, or habitual
civility, which leads them instinctively, and not unfrequently
impertinently, into acts of kindness and consideration. Let a stranger
land at an English or an American port, and he is truly a stranger; his
inquiries will scarcely obtain a civil answer; and any appearance of
strangeness and embarrassment will only bring the boys at his heels. On
the other hand, let him land in any French port, and almost every one
who shall meet him will salute him with the complacency of hospitality;
his inquiries, indeed, will not be answered, because the person of whom
he shall make them, will accompany him to the inn, or other object of
his question.
I have frequently heard, and still more frequently read, that the
English nation were characteristically the most good-natured people in
the world, and that the Americans, as descendants from the same stock,
had not lost this virtue of the parent tree. I give no credit to the
justice of this observation. Experience has convinced me, that neither
the English nor the Americans deserve it as a national distinction. The
French are, beyond all manner of doubt, the most good-humoured people on
the surface of the earth; if we understand at least by the term,
_good-humour_ those minor courtesies, those considerate kindnesses,
those cursory attentions, which, though they cost little to the giver,
are not the less valuable to the receiver; which soften the asperities
of life, and by their frequent occurrence, and the constant necessity in
which we stand of them, have an aggregate, if not an individual
importance. The English, perhaps, as nationally possessing the more
solid virtues, may be the best friends, and the most generous
benefactors; but as friendship, in this more exalted acceptation of it,
is rare, and beneficence almost miraculous, it is a serious question
with me, which is the most useful being in society--the light
good-humoured Frenchman, or the slow meditating Englishman?
There was the usual bustle, as to who should be the bearers of our
luggage; a thousand ragged figures, more resembling scarecrows than
human beings, seized them from the hands of each other, and we might
have bid our property a last farewell perhaps, had it not been for the
ill-humour of our Captain. He laid about him with more vigour than
mercy, and in a manner which surprised me, either that he should
venture, or that even the miserable objects before us should bear. Had
he exerted his hands and his oar in a similar manner either in England
or in America, he would have been compelled to vindicate his assumed
superiority by his superior manhood. Here every one fled before him, and
yielded him as much submission and obedience, as if he had been the
prefect himself.
The French seem to have no idea of the art of pugilism, and with the
sole exception of the military, no point of honour which renders them
impatient under any merited personal castigation. They take a blow with
great _sang froid_. Whether from good humour, or cowardice; whether that
they thought they deserved it, or that they feared to resent it, the
single arm of our Captain chastised a whole rabble of them, and they
made a lane for as many of us as chose to land, accompanied by such
porters as we had ourselves selected. Three or four of them, however,
were still importuning us to permit them to show us to an inn; but as we
had already made our selection in this point likewise, our Captain
returned them no answer, but by a rough mimickry of their address and
gesticulation.
After our luggage had undergone the customary examination by the
officers of the customs, in the execution of which office a liberal fee
procured us much civility, we were informed that it was necessary to
present ourselves before the Commissary, for that so many Englishmen had
obtained admission as Americans, that the French government had found it
necessary to have recourse to an unusual strictness, and that the
Commissary had it in orders not to suffer any one to proceed till after
the most rigid inquiry into his passport and business.
Accordingly, having seen our luggage into a wheel-barrow, which the
Captain insisted should accompany us, we waited upon the Commissary, but
were not fortunate enough to find him at his office. A little dirty boy
informed us, that Mons. Mangouit had gone out to visit a neighbour, but
that if we would wait till twelve o'clock (it was now about nine), we
should infallibly see him, and have our business duly dispatched. The
office in which we were to wait for this Mons. Mangouit for three hours,
was about five feet in length by three in width, very dirty, without a
chair, and in every respect resembling a cobler's stall in one of the
most obscure streets of London. Mons. Commissary's inkstand was a
coffee-cup without an handle, and his book of entries a quire of dirty
writing-paper. This did not give us much idea either of the personal
consequence of Mons. Mangouit, or of the grandeur of the Republic.
The boy was sent out to summon his master, as a preferable way to our
waiting till twelve o'clock. Monsieur at length made his appearance; a
little, mean-looking man, with a very dirty shirt, a well-powdered head,
a smirking, bowing coxcomb. He informed us with many apologies,
unnecessary at least in a public officer, that he was under the
necessity of doing his duty; that his duty was to examine us according
to some queries transmitted to him; but that we appeared gentlemen, true
Americans, and not English spies.
After a long harangue, in which the little gentleman appeared very much
pleased with himself, he concluded by demanding our passport, upon sight
of which he declared himself satisfied, and promised to make us out
others for passing into the interior. We were desired to call for these
in the evening, or he would himself do us the honour to wait upon us
with them at our hotel. Considering the latter as a kind of
self-invitation to dine with us, we mentioned our dinner hour, and other
_et ceteras_. Mons. Mangouit smiled his acquiescence, and we left him,
in the hopes that he would at least change his linen.
Upon leaving the Commissary, our wheel-barrow was again put in motion,
and accompanied us to Dessein's. This hotel still maintains its
reputation and its name. After seeing almost all France, we had no
hesitation in pronouncing it to be the only inn which could enter into
any reasonable comparison with any of the respectable taverns either of
England or America. In no country but in America and England, have they
any idea of that first of comforts to the wearied traveller, a clean and
housewife-like bed. I speak from woeful experience, when I advise every
traveller to consider a pair of sheets and a counterpane as necessary a
part of his luggage as a change of shirts. He will travel but few miles
from Calais, before he will understand the necessity of this admonition.
We ordered an early dinner, and sallied forth to see the town. It has
nothing, however, to distinguish it from other provincial towns, or
rather sea-ports, of the second order. It has been compared to Dover,
but I think rather resembles Folkstone. The streets are irregular, the
houses old and lofty, and the pavement the most execrable that can be
imagined. There was certainly more bustle and activity than is usual in
an English or in an American town of the same rank; and this appeared to
us the more surprising, as we could see no object for all this hurry and
loquacity. To judge by appearance, the people of Calais had no other
more important business than to make their remarks upon us as we passed
their doors or shops. There was no shipping in the harbour, and even the
stock in the shops had every appearance of having remained long, and
having to remain longer in its fixed repose.
Being the market-day, we had the curiosity to inquire the price of
several articles of provision, and to compare them with those of their
neighbours on the opposite side of the channel. The market was well
stocked; there was an incredible quantity of poultry, lamb, butter,
eggs, and herbs. A couple of fowls were three livres, at a time that
they were seven or eight shillings in London; a young goose, two livres
twelve sous (2_s._ 2_d._). Lamb was sold as in England, by the quarter
or side, and was about sixpence English money per pound; beef about
fourpence halfpenny, and mutton (not very good) fourpence. Upon the
whole, the money price of every thing appeared about one-half cheaper
than in England; but whether this difference is not in some degree
compensated in England by the superiority of quality, is what I cannot
exactly decide. The beef was certainly not so good as that to which I
had been accustomed in London; but, on the other hand, in the progress
of my journey, the mutton and lamb, when I could get it dressed to my
wishes, appeared sweeter. The short feed gives it the taste of Welsh
mutton, but the consumption of it is scarcely sufficient to encourage
the feeders. The manner, moreover, in which these meats are employed and
served in French cooking, is such as not to encourage the feeder to any
superior care. Lean meat answers the purposes of _bouille_ as well as
the fat meat, and it is of little concern what that joint is which is
only to be boiled down to its very fibres. The old proverb, that God
sent meats, and the d--- l cooks, is verified in every kitchen in France.
We returned to Quillac's to dinner, which, according to our orders, was
composed in the English style, except a French dish or two for Mons.
Mangouit. This gentleman now appeared altogether as full-dressed as he
had before been in full dishabille. We exchanged much conversation on
Calais and England, and a word or two respecting the French Emperor. He
appeared much better informed than we had previously concluded from his
coxcomical exterior. He seemed indeed quite another man.
He accompanied us after dinner to the comedy: the theatre is within the
circuit of the inn. The performers were not intolerable, and the piece,
which was what they call a proverb (a fable constructed so as to give a
ludicrous verification or contradiction to an old saying), was amusing.
I thought I had some obscure recollection of a face amongst the female
performers, and learned afterwards, that it was one of the maids of the
inn; a lively brisk girl, and a volunteer, from her love of the drama.
In this period of war between England and France, Calais has not the
honour of a dramatic corps to herself, but occasionally participates in
one belonging to the district.
The play being over very early, we finished the evening in our own
style, a proceeding we had cause to repent the following day, as the
_Cote rolie_ did not agree with us so well as old Port. I suffered so
much from the consequent relaxation, that I never repeated the occasion.
It produced still another effect; it removed my previous admiration of
French sobriety. There is little merit, I should think, in abstaining
from such a constant use of medicine.
CHAP. III.
_Purchase of a Norman Horse--Visit in the Country--Family of
a French Gentleman--Elegance of French domestic Economy--Dance
on the Green--Return to Calais._
NOTWITHSTANDING the merited reprobation to be met with in every
traveller, of French beds and French chamberlains, we had no cause to
complain of our accommodation in this respect at Dessein's. This house,
though it has changed masters, is conducted as well as formerly, and
there was nothing in it, which could have made the most determined lover
of ease repent his having crossed the Channel.
After our breakfast on the morning following our arrival, I began to
consider with myself on the most suitable way of executing my
purpose--of seeing France and Frenchmen, the scenery and manners, to the
best advantage. I called in my landlord to my consultation; and having
explained my peculiar views, was advised by him to purchase a Norman
horse, one of which he happened to have in his stables; a circumstance
which perhaps suggested the advice. Be this as it may, I adopted his
recommendation, and I had no cause to repent it. The bargain was struck
upon the spot; and for twenty-seven Louis I became master of a horse,
upon whom, taking into the computation crossroads and occasional
deviations, I performed a journey not less than two thousand miles; and
in the whole of this course, without a stumble sufficient to shake me
from my seat. The Norman horses are low and thick, and like all of this
make, very steady, sure, and strong. They will make a stage of thirty
miles without a bait, and will eat the coarsest food. From some
indications of former habits about my own horse, I was several times led
to conclude, that he had been more accustomed to feed about the lanes,
and live on his wits, as it were, than in any settled habitation, either
meadow or stable. I never had a brute companion to which I took a
greater fancy.
Having a letter to a gentleman resident about two miles from Calais, I
had occasion to inquire the way of a very pretty peasant girl whom I
overtook on the road, just above the town. The way was by a path over
the fields: the young peasant was going to some house a mile or two
beyond the object of my destination, and, as I have reason to believe,
not exactly in the same line. Finding me a stranger, however, she
accompanied me, without hesitation, up a narrow cross-road, that she
might put me into the foot-path; and when we had come to it, finding
some difficulty in giving intelligibly a complex direction, she
concluded by saying she would go that way herself. I was too pleased
with my companion to decline her civility. I learned in the course of
my walk that she was the daughter of a small farmer: the farm was small
indeed, being about half an arpent, or acre. She had been to Calais to
take some butter, and had the same journey three mornings in the week.
Her father had one cow of his own, and rented two others, for each of
which he paid a Louis annually. The two latter fed by the road-sides.
Her father earned twenty sols a day as a labourer, and had a small
pension from the Government, as a veteran and wounded soldier. Upon this
little they seemed, according to her answers, to live very comfortably,
not to say substantially. Poultry, chesnuts, milk, and dried fruit,
formed their daily support. "We never buy meat," said she, "because we
can raise more poultry than we can sell."
The country around Calais has so exact a resemblance to that of the
opposite coast, as to appear almost a counterpart, and as if the sea had
worked itself a channel, and thus divided a broad and lofty hill. It is
not, however, quite so barren and cheerless as in the immediate
precincts of Dover. Vegetation, what there was of it, seemed stronger,
and trees grow nearer to the cliffs. There were likewise many flowers
which I had never seen about Dover and the Kentish coast. But on the
whole, the country was so similar that I in vain looked around me for
something to note.
The gentleman to whom I had brought a letter of introduction was at
Paris; but I saw his son, to whom I was therefore compelled to introduce
myself. The young man lamented much that his father was from home, and
that he could not receive me in a manner which was suitable to a
gentleman of my appearance; the friend of Mr. Pinckney, who was the
beloved friend of his father. All these things are matter of course to
all Frenchmen, who are never at a loss for civility and terms of
endearment. A young English gentleman of the same age with this youth
(about nineteen), would either have affronted you by his sulky reserve,
or compelled you as a matter of charity to leave him, to release him
from blushing and stammering. On the other hand, young Tantuis and
myself were intimates in the moment after our first introduction.
Upon entering the house, and a parlour opening upon a lawn in the back
part, I was introduced to Mademoiselle his sister, a beautiful girl, a
year, or perhaps more, younger than her brother. She rose from an
English piano as I entered, whilst her brother introduced me with a
preamble, which he rolled off his tongue in a moment. A refreshment of
fruit, capillaire, and a sweet wine, of which I knew not the name, was
shortly placed before me, and the young people conversed with me about
England and Calais, and whatever I told them of my own concerns, with
as much ease and apparent interest, as if we had been born and lived in
the same village.
Mademoiselle informed me, that the people in Calais had no character at
all; that they were fishermen and smugglers, which last business they
carried on in war as well as in peace, and had no reputation either for
honesty or industry; that she had no visiting society at Calais, and
never went to the town but on household business; that the price of
every thing had doubled within four years, but that the late plenty, and
the successes of the Emperor, were bringing every thing to their former
standard; that her father payed very moderate taxes; her brother stated
about five Louis annually; but they differed in this point. The house
was of that size and order, which in England would have paid at least
thirty pounds, and added to this was a domain of between sixty and
seventy arpents.
The dinner, whether in compliment to me, or that things have now all
taken this turn in France, was in substance so completely English, and
served up in a manner so English, as almost to call forth an exclamation
of surprise. When we enter a new country, we so fully expect to find
every thing new, as to be surprised at almost any necessary coincidence.
This characteristic difference is very rapidly wearing off in every
kingdom in Europe. A couple of fowls, a rice-pudding, and a small chine,
composed our dinner. It was served in a pretty kind of china, and with
silver forks. The cloth was removed as in England, and the table covered
with dried fruits, confectionary, and coffee; a tall silver epergne
supporting small bottles of capillaire, and sweetmeats in cut glass. The
fruits were in plates very tastily painted in landscape by Mademoiselle;
and at the top and bottom of the table was a silver image of Vertumnus
and Pomona, of the same height with the epergne in the centre. The
covering of the table was a fine deep green cloth, spotted with the
simple flower called the double daisy.
I am the more particular in this description, as the dinner was thus
served, and the table thus appointed, without any apparent preparation,
as if it was all in their due and daily course. Indeed, I have had
occasion frequently to observe, that the French ladies infinitely excel
those of every other nation in these minor elegancies; in a cheap and
tasteful simplicity, and in giving a value to indifferent things by a
manner peculiar to themselves. Mademoiselle left us after the first cup
of coffee, saying, that she had heard that it was a custom in England,
that gentlemen should have their own conversation after dinner. I
endeavoured to turn off a compliment in the French style upon this
observation, but felt extremely awkward, upon foundering in the middle
of it, for want of more familiar acquaintance with the language.
Monsieur, her brother, perceived my embarrassment, and becoming my
interpreter, helped me out of it with much good-humour, and with some
dexterity. I resolved, however, another time, never to tilt with a
French lady in compliment.
Being alone with the young man, I made some inquiries upon subjects upon
which I wanted information, and found him at once communicative and
intelligent. The agriculture of the country about Calais appears to be
wretched. The soil is in general very good, except where the substratum
of chalk, or marle, rises too near the surface, which is the case
immediately on the cliffs. The course of the crops is bad
indeed--fallow, rye, oats. In some land it is fallow, wheat, and barley.
In no farm, however, is the fallow laid aside; it is considered as
indispensable for wheat, and on poor lands for rye. The produce, reduced
to English Winchester measure, is about nineteen bushels of wheat, and
twenty-three or twenty-four of barley. Besides the fallow, they manure
for wheat. The manure in the immediate vicinity of Calais is the dung of
the stable-keepers and the filth of that town. The rent of the land
around Calais, within the daily market of the town, is as high as sixty
livres; but beyond the circuit of the town, is about twenty livres
(sixteen shillings). Since the settlement of the Government, the price
of land has risen; twenty Louis an acre is now the average price in the
purchase of a large farm. There are no tithes, but a small rate for the
officiating minister. Labourers earn thirty sous per day (about
fifteen-pence English), and women, in picking stones, &c. half that
sum. Rents, since the Revolution, are all in money; but there are some
instances of personal service, and which are held to be legal even under
the present state of things, provided they relate to husbandry, and not
to any servitude or attendance upon the person of the landlord. Upon the
whole, I found that the Revolution had much improved the condition of
the farmers, having relieved them from feudal tenures and lay-tithes. Oh
the other hand, some of the proprietors, even in the neighbourhood of
Calais, had lost nearly the whole of the rents, under the interpretation
of the law respecting what were to be considered as feudal impositions.
The Commissioners acting under these laws had determined all old rents
to come under this description, and had thus rendered the tenants under
lease proprietors of the lands.
The young lady who had left as returned towards evening, and by her
heightened colour, and a small parcel in her hand, appeared to have
walked some distance. Her brother, doubtless from a sympathetic nature,
guessed in an instant the object of her walk. "You have been to Calais,"
said he. "Yes," replied she, with the lovely smile of kindness; "I
thought that Monsieur would like some tea after the manner of his
countrymen, and having only coffee in the house, I walked to Calais to
procure some." I again felt the want of French loquacity and readiness.
My heart was more eloquent than my tongue. I rose, and involuntarily
took and pressed the hand of the sweet girl. Who will now say that the
French are not characteristically a good-humoured people, and that a
lovely French girl is not an angel? I thought so at the time, and though
my heart has now cooled, I think so still. I feel even no common
inclination to, describe this young French beauty, but that I will not
do her the injustice to copy off an image which remains more faithfully
and warmly imprinted on my memory.
The house, as I have mentioned, opened behind on a lawn, with which the
drawing-room was even, so that its doors and windows opened immediately
upon it. This lawn could not be less than four or five English acres in
extent, and was girded entirely around by a circle of lofty trees from
within, and an ancient sea-stone wall, very thick and high, from
without. The trunks of the trees and the wall were hid by a thick copse
or shrubbery of laurels, myrtles, cedars, and other similar shrubs, so
as to render the enclosed lawn the most beautiful and sequestered spot I
had ever seen. On the further extremity from the house was an avenue
from the lawn to the garden, which was likewise spacious, and surrounded
by a continuation of the same wall. In the further corner of the latter
was a summer-house, erected on the top of the wall, so as to look over
it on the fields and the distant sea.
Tea was here served up to us in a manner neither French nor English, but
partaking of both. Plates of cold chicken, slices of chine, cakes,
sweetmeats, and the whitest bread, composed a kind of mixed repast,
between the English tea and the French supper. The good-humour and
vivacity of my young friends, and the prospect from the windows, which
was as extensive as beautiful, rendered it a refreshment peculiarly
cheering to the spirits of a traveller.
Before the conclusion of it, I had another specimen of French manners
and French benevolence. A party of young ladies were announced as
visitors, and followed immediately the servant who conducted them.
Speaking all at once, they informed Mademoiselle T----, that they had
learned the arrival of her English friend (so they did me the honour to
call me), and knowing her father was at Paris, had hurried off to assist
her in giving Monsieur a due welcome. They mentioned several other
names, which were coming with the same friendly purpose; a piece of
information, which caused the young Monsieur T---- to make me a hasty
bow, and leave me with the ladies. He returned in a short time, and the
sound of fiddles tuning below on the lawn, rendered any explanation
unnecessary. We immediately descended; the promised ladies, and their
partners, soon made their appearance; and the merry dance on the green
began. As the stranger of the company, I had of course the honour of
leading Mademoiselle T----. In the course of the dance other visitors
appeared, who formed themselves into cotillions and reels; and the lawn
being at length well filled, the evening delightful, and the moon risen
in all her full glory, the whole formed a scene truly picturesque.
After an evening, or rather a night, thus protracted to a late hour, I
returned to Calais; and was accompanied to the immediate adjacency by
one of the parties, consisting of two ladies and a gentleman. I was
assailed by many kind importunities to repeat my visit; but as I
intended to leave Calais on the morrow, I made my best possible
excuses.
CHAP. IV.
_French Cottages.--Ludicrous exhibition.--French Travellers--Chaise
de Poste.--Posting in France.--Departure from Calais.--Beautiful
Vicinity of Boulogne._
TWO days were amply sufficient to see all that Calais has to exhibit.
After the first novelty is over, no place can please, except either by
its intrinsic beauty, or the happy effect of habit. Calais, has no such
intrinsic charms, and I was not disposed to try the result of the
latter. I accordingly resolved to proceed on my road; but as the heat
was excessive, deferred it till the evening.
The exercise of the preceding night had produced an unpleasant ferment
in my blood, attended by an external feeling of feverish heat, and
checked perspiration. Every traveller should be, in a degree, his own
physician. I had recourse to a dip in the sea, and found immediate
relief. Nothing, indeed, is so instantaneous a remedy, either for
violent fatigue, or any of the other effects following unusual exercise,
as this simple specific. After a ride of sixty or seventy miles through
the most dusty roads, and under the hottest sun of a southern
Midsummer, I have been restored to my morning freshness by the cold
bath.
By the buildings which I observed to be going forward, I was led to a
conclusion that Calais is a flourishing town; but I confess I saw no
means to which I could attribute this prosperity. There was no
appearance of commerce, and very little of industry. One circumstance
was truly unaccountable to me. Though there were two or three ships
laying unrigged, but otherwise sound, and in the best navigable
condition, there was a building-yard, in which two new vessels were on
the stock. These vessels, indeed, were of no considerable tonnage; but I
confess myself at a loss to guess their object.
About a mile from Calais, is a beautiful avenue of the finest walnut and
chesnut trees I have ever seen in France. They stand upon common land,
and, of course, are public property. In the proper season of the year,
the people of Calais repair hither for their evening dance; and such is
the force of custom, the fruit remains untouched, and reserved for these
occasions. Every one then takes what he pleases, but carries nothing
home beyond what may suffice for his consumption on the way.
In my walk thither I passed several cottages, and entered some. The
inhabitants seemed happy, and to possess some substantial comforts. The
greater part of these cottages had a walnut or chestnut tree before
them, around which was a rustic seat, and which, as overshadowed by the
broad branches and luxuriant foliage, composed a very pleasing image.
The manner in which the sod was partially worn under most of them,
explained their nightly purpose; or if there could yet be any doubt, the
flute and fiddle, pendant in almost every house, spoke a still more
intelligible language.