wood, and being very fertile in corn and meadow, wants nothing of the
richness and beauty which seem to characterize this part of the
province. It is parted into two by a river called the Mayenne, which is
a small branch of the Loire, and again falls into the main river about
five miles from the town. The French, like the Dutch, seemed to be
peculiarly attached to this kind of site, having a river run through
their towns, one half being built on one side, and one on the other. The
water of the Mayenne is so harsh, that it cannot be drunk or used for
cookery, and were it not for the proximity of the Loire, and some
aqueducts, Angers, though built on a river, must necessarily become
desolate for want of water. The same improvidence is visible in many
towns in France, and still more in Holland.
The walls round this city were built by King John of England, and though
six centuries, have elapsed, are still nearly entire. Part of them were
indeed demolished by Louis the Eighth, but they were restored in their
original form by his successor, and remain a proof of the durable style
of building of that Age (1230). The castle of Angers was built at the
same time. It is situated on a rock which overhangs the river, and
though now in decay, has still a very striking appearance. The walls are
lofty and broad, the towers numerous, and the fosses deep. They are cut
out of the solid rock, and must have required long and ingenious labour.
The cathedral of Anjou, the inner part of which exactly resembles
Westminster Hall, is chiefly celebrated for containing the monument of
Margaret of Anjou, the queen of Henry the Sixth of England. This woman
was in every respect a perfect heroine, and worthy of her illustrious
father, Rene, King of Sicily. She was taken prisoner in the battle of
Tewkesbury, and immediately committed, to the Tower, from which she was
ransomed by Louis the Eleventh, of France. This King, however, who was
never known to forget himself, and act otherwise than selfishly, had a
very different motive than humanity for this apparent generosity: having
gained possession of the person of Margaret, he immediately rendered her
his own prisoner, and caused her father to be informed that if he wished
to ransom her, he must give up all his hereditary rights to the duchies
of Anjou and Lorrain. So tenderly did Rene love his daughter, that he
made the sacrifice without hesitation. The history of this princess, as
collected from the French memoirs, has an air rather of romance than of
real history. Though the English historians all concur in her praise,
they seem to know very little of her. A remark here suggested itself:
that the best of the English historians seem totally to have overlooked
all the French records, and to have confined themselves to the writers
of their own country.
The general appearance of Angers does not correspond with the
magnificence of its walls, its castle, and its cathedral. Its size is
respectable; there are six parish churches, besides monasteries and
chapters, and the inhabitants are estimated at 50,000. The streets,
however, are very narrow, and the houses mean, low, and huddled: there
is the less excuse for this, as ground is plentiful and cheap; there is
scarcely a good house inhabited within the walls. The towns in France
differ in this respect very considerably from those in England: in a
principal town in England you will invariably find a considerable number
of good houses, where retired merchants and tradesmen live in the ease
and elegance of private gentlemen. There is nothing of this kind in the
French towns. Every house is a shop, a warehouse, a magazine, or a
lodging house. I do not believe that there is one merchant of
independent fortune now resident within the walk of Angers. This,
indeed, may perhaps arise from the difference in the general character
of the two kingdoms: in England, and even in America, there are few
tradesmen long resident in a town, without having obtained a sufficiency
to retire; whilst the French towns being comparatively poor, and their
trade comparatively insignificant, the French tradesman can seldom do
more than obtain a scanty subsistence by his business. In all the best
French towns, the tradesmen have more the air of chandlers than of great
dealers. There are absolutely no interior towns in France like Norwich,
Manchester, and Birmingham. In some of their principal manufacturing
places, there may indeed be one or two principal men and respectable
houses; but neither these men nor their houses are of such number and
quality, as to give any dignity or beauty to their towns beyond mere
places of trade. The French accordingly, judging from what they see at
home, have a very contemptible idea of the term merchant; and if a
foreign traveller of this class should wish to be admitted into good
company, let him pass by any other name than that of a marchand or
negociant. To say all in a word, this class of foreigners are
specifically excluded from admission at court.
I visited the market, which in Angers, and I believe throughout France,
is held on Sunday. This is one of the circumstances from which a
foreigner would be very apt to form a wrong estimate of the French
character, which now, whatever it might be, is decidedly religious. But
the Roman Catholics have ever considered Sunday as at once a day of
festivity and a holiday; they have no scruple, therefore, to sing and
dance, and to hold their markets on this day; all they abstain from is
the heavier kind of work--labour in the fields and warehouses. A French
town, therefore, is never so gay as on a Sunday. I inquired the prices
of provisions. Beef and mutton are about 2_d._ per pound; a fowl 5_d._;
and turkies, when in season, from 18_d._ to 2_s_.; bread is about
1-1/2_d._ a pound; and vegetables, greens, &c. cheap to a degree. A good
house in Angers about six Louis per year, and a mansion fit for a prince
(for there are some of them, but without inhabitants) from forty to
fifty Louis, including from thirty to forty acres of land without the
walls. I have no doubt but that any one might live at Angers on 250
Louis per annum, as well as in England for four times the amount. And
were I to live in France, I know no place I should prefer to the
environs of this town. The climate, in this part of France, is
delightful beyond description. The high vault of heaven is clad in
ethereal blue, and the sun sets with a glory which is inconceivable to
those who have only lived in more northerly regions; for week after week
this weather never varies, the rains come on at once, and then cease
till the following season. The tempests which raise the fogs from the
ocean have no influence here, and they are strangers likewise to that
hot moisture which produces the pestilential fevers in England and
America. There are sometimes indeed heavy thunder storms, when the
clouds burst, and pour down torrents of rain: but the storm ceases in a
few minutes, and the heavens, under the influence of a powerful sun,
resume their beauty and serenity.
The soil in the neighbourhood of Angers (I speak still with reference to
its aptitude for the residence of a foreigner, for I confess this dream
hung very strongly on my imagination) is fertile to a degree, and as far
as I could understand, is very cheap. Every house, as I have before
said, without the walls, has its garden, and all kind of fruits and
vegetables were in the greatest plenty. The fences around the gardens of
the villages were very fantastically interwoven with the wreaths of the
vine, which would sometimes creep up the trunk of a tree, and sometimes
hang over the casements. Nothing can be more delightful than the vine
when flourishing in all this unbridled wildness of its natural
luxuriance, and as if justly sensible of its beauty, the French
cottagers convert it to the double purpose of ornament or utility.
Whilst travelling along, my spirits frequently felt the cheering
influence of the united images of natural beauty and of human happiness.
Often have I seen the weary labourer sitting under a sunny wall, his
head shaded by the luxuriant branches of the vine, the purple fruit of
which furnished him with his simple meal. Bread and fruit is the
constant summer dinner of the peasantry of the Loire. Upon this subject,
the general plenty of the country, I should not have forgotten to
mention, that in the proper season partridges and hares are in great
plenty, and being fed on the heath lands of Bretagne and Anjou, are said
to have the best flavour. An Englishman will scarcely believe, that
whilst he is paying 12_s._ a couple for fowls, half a guinea for a
turkey, seven shillings for a goose, &c. &c.: whilst such I say are the
market prices in London, the dearest price in the market of Angers is
10_d._ a couple for fowls, a shilling a couple for ducks, 1_s._ 6_d._
for a goose. As to the quality of these provisions, the veal and the
mutton being fed in the meadows on the Loire, are entirely as good as in
England; but the beef, not being in general use except for soups and
stews, is of a very inferior kind. Wood is the only article which is
dear; but an Englishman in this country would doubtless rise above the
prejudices around him, and burn coal, of which there is a great plenty
in every part of France.
I must not take leave of Angers without mentioning, that it was a
favourite station of the Romans, who, like the monks, always consulted
natural beauty in the site of the towns and permanent encampments. Many
remnants of this people are still visible: some of the arches of an
aqueduct are yet entire, and without a guide speak their own origin.
Accompanied by Mr. Younge and Monsieur de Corseult, I visited the
Caserne and the National School. The Caserne was formerly a Riding
School of general reputation, and is one of the most superb buildings
of the kind in the world. Peter the Great of Russia was here instructed
in the equestrian art, and many other illustrious men are on its list of
scholars. The National School has nothing worthy of peculiar remark.
Angers before the Revolution was celebrated as a seat of literature: its
university, founded in 1246, was only inferior to that of Paris; and its
Academy of Belles Lettres, founded in 1685, was the first after that of
the Nation. The chapel of the university is now a gallery for paintings.
The professors of these literary institutions have very competent
salaries: the sciences taught are Mathematics, Medicine, Natural and
Experimental Philosophy, and the Fine Arts. The best quality, however,
of these institutions is that the instructions, such as they are, are
gratuitous; the doors are open to all who choose to enter them; those
only who can afford it are expected to pay.
Angers, being so near La Vendee, suffered much by the Chouans, and still
retains many melancholy traces of the siege which it had to maintain.
The people, with feelings which are better conceived than expressed,
spoke with great reluctance on their past sufferings: there seems indeed
one great maxim at present current in France, and this is to forget the
past as if it had never happened. A foreigner is sure to offend, who
interrogates them upon any thing connected with the horrible
Revolution.
Nothing can be more delightful than the environs of Angers, whether for
those who walk or ride. The country is thickly enclosed, and on each
side of the river varied with hill and dale, with woodland and meadow.
The villages and small towns along the whole bank of the Loire are
numerous, and invariably picturesque and beautiful. In the vicinity of
Angers the vineyards are very frequent, and cover the hills, and even
the valleys, with their luxuriance; nothing can be more beautiful than
the natural festoons which are formed by their long branches as they
project over the road, and when the grapes are ripe, the landscape wants
nothing of perfect beauty. The peasantry, the Vignerons as they are
called, live in the midst of their vineyards: their habitations are
usually excavated out of the rocks and small hillocks on which they grow
their vines, and as these hillocks are usually composed of strata of
chalk, the cottages are dry and comfortable. Some of them, as seen from
the road, being covered even over their doors by the vine branches, had
the appearance of so many nests, and as many of them as had two stories,
were picturesque in the extreme. Upon the whole, the condition of the
peasantry in this part of France is very comfortable: they are
temperate, unceasingly gay, and sufficiently clad; their wants are few,
and therefore their labour, added to the fertility of the soil, is
sufficient to satisfy them. They repine not for luxuries of which they
can have no notion.
We took leave of Monsieur de Corseult on the Wednesday instead of the
Monday, but he insisted upon accompanying us on horseback half way to
Saumur, where we proposed sleeping. The ladies could not but accept this
obliging offer, and the information which Mons. de Corseult was enabled
to give us, rendered his society equally agreeable to Mr. Younge and
myself. We learned from this gentleman, that though Anjou is reputed to
have a great proportion of heath and barren land, it does not yield to
any province in France either for beauty or fertility. As much of it as
lays along the Loire, I have already had occasion to describe, and what
we were now passing through was not a whit behind it. Every village was
most romantically situated; some in orchards, some in fenced gardens,
some in corn-fields, and others in vales and in recesses on each side of
the road. The corn being ripe, added much to the beauty of the
landscape. In some fields the reapers were at work, and the harvest was
going on with true French gaiety. Sometimes we would see them dancing in
the field; sometimes sitting round some central tree sporting and
gamboling with the women and girls. I never saw a scene in England which
could enter into comparison with a French harvest. I was sorry, however,
to see that the women had more than their due share of the labour; they
reaped, bound, and loaded. Some of the elder women were accordingly very
coarse, but the girls were spirited, and pleasing. They nodded to us
whenever we caught their eyes, and if we stopt our horses, would come to
us, at whatever distance, as if to satisfy our inquiries.
We happened to pass an estate which was for sale, and the house being at
hand, inquired the price and particulars. There were six hundred acres
of land, a good house, and the purchase-money was five thousand pounds
English. Four hundred acres were arable, the other wood and heath. In
England, the price of such an estate would have been at least twenty
thousand pounds. The land, though stony, was good, and under the hands
of a tolerable farmer, might have cleared the purchase-money in five
years. There was a trout stream and fish-ponds, and the whole country
was even infested with game. The chateau itself would certainly have
required some repairs; it was large and rambling, and seemed to have
more wood than brick. The land, however, was richly worth the money four
times over.
We reached Saumur very late in the evening; it is a small, but very
pretty town, on the southern bank of the Loire. There are here two
bridges over the river; the one from the northern shore to an island in
the middle of the river; the other from the island to the southern
shore. Saumur was formerly a fortified city, and though the
fortifications are now neglected and in perfect ruin, it still maintains
its rank as a military town, and the names of travellers are formally
required, and formally registered. The inn at which we put up was very
comfortable; but the beds were so scented with lavender as to prevent me
from sleeping. Here likewise, I had the happiness of being again waited
upon by females. A young woman, the daughter of the landlord, not only
lighted me to my room, but took her seat at the window, and retained it
till she saw that I was in bed. The French women have none of that
bashful modesty which characterises the women of England and America.
Before getting into bed I was about to close a door, which I perceived
half open at the extremity of the room opposite to that occupied by my
bed; but Felice prevented me, by informing me that her sister and
herself were to sleep there, and as a further proof, shewing me the bed.
"Then I must leave my own chamber-door open," said I. "Certainly," said
she, "if you are not afraid of my sister and me: I have only to see if
Madame and Mademoiselle are in want of any thing, and then I shall come
to bed." "Where does Mademoiselle sleep?" said I. "In the same chamber
with Monsieur and Madame; it is a double-bedded room, on the first
floor, fronting the road; you might have observed the casements of it
shaded with the barberry tree. But you seem curious as to Mademoiselle.
Perhaps there is a _petite affaire_ of the heart between you. Well,
Heaven bless Monsieur, and may you dream that you are walking with your
love in the corn-fields!" Saying this, the sprightly girl left me with
the characteristic trip of French gaiety. I had the curiosity to remain
awake till her sister and herself passed through my chamber to their
own. The girls laughed as they went through the room, and had not even
the modesty (for so I must call it) to close their own door. It remained
a third part open during the whole night; and as they talked in bed,
they prevented my sleep. One of these young women might be twenty; the
other, though tall, could not be more than fourteen.
I rose early in the morning with the purpose of a walk in the fields
around the town, and finding Felice was going to fetch some milk from a
village about half a mile distant, I accompanied her. It is needless to
say that she played off all the coquetries which are natural to French
girls in whatever station. By dint of frequent questions, however, I
collected from her some useful information. I had adopted it as a rule,
to obtain information on three points in every French town or village
where I might happen to stop--the price of provisions, the price of
land, and the price of house-rent. The price of provisions at Saumur, as
I learned from this girl, was very cheap: beef, not very good, that is,
not very fat, about 1-1/2_d._ (English) per pound; mutton and veal about
2_d._;--two fowls 8_d._; two ducks 10_d._; geese and turkies from 1_s._
6_d._ to 2_s._ 6_d._.;--fuel, as much as would serve three fires for the
year, about 5_l._;--a house of two stories and garrets, two rooms in
front and two in back in each story, such being the manner in which they
are built, a passage running through the middle, and the rooms being on
each side--such a house, resembling an English parsonage, about five
Louis a year; or with a garden, paddock, and orchard, about eight
Louis;--butter 8_d._ per pound; cheese 4_d._; and milk a halfpenny a
quart. According to the best estimate I could make, a family,
consisting of a man, his wife, three or four children, two
maid-servants, a man-servant, and three horses, might be easily kept at
Saumur, and in its neighbourhood, for about 100_l._ a year. I am fully
persuaded that I am rather over than under the mark. The country
immediately about Saumur is as lively and beautiful as the town itself.
It chiefly consists of corn-fields studded with groves, or rather tufts
of trees, and divided by green fences, in which were pear and
apple-trees in full bearing. The fields near the town had paths around
them and across them, where the towns-folk, as I understood from my
informer, were accustomed to walk in the evening and which, the corn
being ripe and high, were pleasantly recluse. Felice and myself crossed
three or four of them, and if I may judge from the little scrupulosity
with which she ran amongst the corn, the proprietors of the lands must
gain little from their fields being the customary promenade of their
townsmen. One thing, however, I have observed peculiar to the
landholders in France--that wherever the free use of their property can
contribute in any thing to the enjoyment of others; wherever their
fields, or even their parks and gardens, lie convenient for a promenade,
those fields, parks, and gardens, are thrown open, and whatever they
contain, flowers, fruits, and seats, are all at the public disposal. A
Frenchman never thinks of stopping up a bye-path, because it passes
within half a mile of his window; a Frenchman never thinks of raising
the height of his own wall, in order to interrupt the prospect of his
neighbour. One quality, in a few words, pervades all the actions, all
the words, and all the thoughts of a Frenchman--a general benevolence,
an anxious kindness, which is daily making sacrifices to oblige and even
assist others.
Upon my return to the inn, I found Mademoiselle at the breakfast table,
which was set in a back room fronting a very pleasant garden. She
rallied me pleasantly enough, but as I thought with an air of pique,
upon my morning walk and my fair companion, and Felice happening to
enter the room, asked her how she should like a foreign husband. "Very
well, Mademoiselle," replied the girl with great innocence, "after I had
taught him to talk in French: and I believe you are of the same opinion,
Mademoiselle," added she with more pertness. Mademoiselle, with true
French dexterity, here dropt a cup on the floor, and thus saved the
necessity of reply, and furnished an excuse for the confusion into which
the girl's impertinence had evidently thrown her. Shall I confess that
my vanity was gratified, but I will defy any one to travel through
France, without becoming something of a coxcomb.
Having resumed our journey, we proceeded merrily, under a cheering sun
refreshed by a morning breeze, on the road for Tours, through les Trois
Volets, and Langes. The road was still along the banks of the Loire,
and continued on the southern side till we reached Chousay, a very sweet
village, about twelve miles from Saumur. We had here a repast of bread,
grapes, and a sweet wine peculiar to the country, but the name of which
I have not noted; and though together with our servants we drank nearly
four quart bottles, and ate a good quantity of grapes and bread, our
reckoning did not exceed seven francs. Nothing indeed surprised me so
much as the uncommon cheapness in this country. The country to Chousay
had a very near resemblance to what we had passed through the preceding
day, except that it was more hilly, and the hills being clothed in
vines, more beautiful. On some of these hills, moreover, amidst groves
or tufts of trees, and lawns extending down the declivity, were some
very pretty chateaus, which being white and clean, looked gay and
animated. The landscape, indeed, seemed to improve upon us as we
advanced; every mile was as charming as the preceding, but every mile
began to have a new character. Sometimes the river ran through a plain
in which the peasants were gathering in their harvest, to the very brink
of the water. Sometimes, the banks on each side were covered with
forests, from the centre of which were visible steeples, villas,
windmills, and abbeys. At Chousay, I saw the cleanly way in which the
Vignerons of the Loire bruise their grapes. In Spain and Portugal, they
are put into a mash tub, and the juice is trodden from them by the bare
feet of men, women, and girls hired for the purpose: here the practise
is to use a wooden pestle. The grapes being collected and picked, are
put into a large vat, where they are bruised in the manner I have
mentioned, and are thence carried to the press. The vintage had not
indeed as yet begun, but I saw the process performed on a small quantity
of grapes, which had been ripened in a garden. Every vineyard
proprietor, besides his stock-fruit, has some peculiar species of grape
from which he makes the wine for his own use and that of his immediate
friends: these grapes are very carefully picked and culled, and none but
the soundest and best are thrown into the tub. The wine thus made is
infinitely superior to the stock-wine for sale: when old, it is not
inferior to Hock, and I believe is frequently sold as such by the
foreign purchasers.