_May 1st._--Being sufficiently recruited we recommenced our journey;
our horses were tied with ropes, they looked quite wild; there were
three in each carriage. Calais is surrounded with fortifications. It
was very cold, disagreeable weather. Papa has a great aversion to east
winds, and dislikes Tallantire on that account, so we expected that
in France we should find a delightful climate; but alas! no sooner
had we arrived there, than we found both east and north winds. About
Calais was the ugliest country without exception I ever beheld; there
was scarcely a tree to be seen, no hedgerows, no pretty cottages,
everything looked dirty and miserable; there was a great deal of sand,
and the country looked exactly like a desert: I thought that if this
was a specimen of France, it was certainly a most charming place! We
passed through La Chaussée, a scattered village which skirts the road
for more than a mile; after ascending a hill we had a view of the
sea, but the weather was so thick that we could not see Dover Cliffs.
Our horses began to kick and seemed very restive, but on the driver's
dismounting and calling to them in a curious voice they were soon
quiet; after we had passed Wimille about a mile there was a succession
of hills as far as Boulogne: on one of them we had a view of the town
and the tower, which was commenced by Buonaparte to commemorate his
intended victories over England. We entered the town by an avenue of
trees; we met a procession in the Rue Grande in honour of the Duke of
Bordeaux's baptism, which was that day to take place; it was a general
fête throughout France. We stopt till the procession had passed. The
principal things I remarked were the pioneers with their long beards
and leather aprons, with hatchets over their shoulders. We went to the
Hôtel Angleterre, Rue de l'Eau; it is kept by an Englishman of the
name of Parker. We breakfasted on bouillon. Euphemia had been very
unwell all day: she had no appetite; so we and Miss Wragge went out to
buy some oranges for her; we asked several people, and enquired at a
number of shops, but all in vain, and we began to despair: we, however,
succeeded in getting some of an Englishman--he was the only person in
the town who sold them; he told us that he got them from England and
was obliged to pay a high duty; we only took four, as the smallest
were four sous apiece. After leaving Boulogne the country was a little
prettier; it had not that desert appearance that there was at the
sea-coast. Before we reached Saumur we saw a woman riding like a man,
wrong side before, on a horse, and a cow tied to the horse's tail; in
some places we saw women ploughing. About Saumur it was rather pretty;
there were rows of apple-trees on each side of the road, but on many of
them there was scarcely a leaf; not any of the trees were so far out as
they were in England. The country looks barren, as there are no hedges.
The villages in France are also very ugly--there are no gardens before
the houses, and instead of the lovely cottages we saw in Hertfordshire
we here saw only dirty, untidy-looking houses; it was curious to see
the astonishment of the servants, who imagined that they were to travel
through bowers of grapes and groves of oranges. I was most disappointed
at the weather, as I expected a delightful climate in France. After we
had passed Saumur we entered the forest of Longvilliers; we saw some
large lilac periwinkles in the hedge.[8] We reached Montreuil in the
evening; there is a very steep ascent to the town; it is supposed to be
nearly impregnable. We went to Varennes, Hotel de la Cour de France;
it was a tolerably clean and civil inn. They told us there was to be
a grand illumination on account of the fête; they begged to put some
lights in our windows, and stuck two or three candles in. The servants
went out to see the balls and illuminations: they said that there were
very few lights, and that they saw some ladies going to the ball, but
that, as for the dance on the green, it was so dark they could hardly
see, but the people appeared to be in their working dresses; that there
was one fiddler; that first one person got up and ran across the green,
and then another; but it was nothing like dancing. At this hotel we
first saw the curious French beds; they consist of a pole in the wall
with the end gilt, over this is thrown a curtain; sometimes instead of
the pole there is an octagon; the beds are very uncomfortable, and the
curtains slip over one's face. The basons are like pie-dishes.
[Illustration: A FRENCH WOMAN AND CHILD]
[Illustration: A FRENCH BOY AND GIRL, EATING, AT THE DOOR]
_May 2nd._--It was a cold, disagreeable, rainy morning when we left
Montreuil; the country was not pretty; we went for a long way between
rows of trees, of which there was nothing left but the stumps; the
branches are cut off nearly all the trees, which makes them look like
broom-sticks. There were great numbers of beggars. At every village we
passed we were followed by men, women and children; if we gave to a
few they came in a double quantity up to the carriage-window; in one
village we counted about twenty. Begging seemed to be quite a trade:
in some places they brought baskets with cakes and flowers in them;
if we would not buy the flowers they threw them into the carriage. In
one place a little girl ran by the side of the carriage and said in
English 'How do you do? Very well thank you. Give me a penny, papa. How
do you do, my dear? I hope you're very well.' Papa asked them where
they had learned to speak English; they answered that the English had
lived there three years. In one of the villages where we stopped two
little girls came and danced by our carriage; they danced in a slow,
dull kind of way, and sung a tune something like our quadrilles. The
people were in general fat, plain and clumsy; their eyes were half
shut, they looked like the pictures one sees of Chinese. The women wore
a woollen or cotton petticoat with a body of a different colour, an
apron with shoulder-straps, and a coarse cotton handkerchief: some had
high caps on their heads, but most of them wore a checked handkerchief
done up like a toque, and long earrings; they had scarcely any hair to
be seen, which was very unbecoming. Their waists were generally very
short, and they looked quite a bundle; some of them wore sabots (wooden
shoes). The children[9] were heavy, ugly figures; they were quite
muffled up with clothes, and had very large stomachs, and their clothes
were tied over their breasts. They had not the liveliness of children
in England; they seemed so fat they could hardly walk,--like what in
Scotland they call _douce bairns_; they had all caps or handkerchiefs
on, even the babies. The men wore coloured woollen nightcaps; they were
much better-looking than the women. All the people looked untidy and
dirty. We passed through the Forest of Cressy, near which was fought
the celebrated battle which bears its name. We reached Abbeville about
one o'clock: we breakfasted at the Hôtel d'Angleterre, which is a very
good inn, but was rather in confusion when we were there. At Flixcourt,
where we stopped to change horses, we saw some people dancing on a
green; they told us it was on account of a wedding. In several of the
villages there were people standing at their doors eating bean-bread;
in one stage we tasted it; it was rather sour, but not bad tasting.
The people did not seem to make much use of their houses, as we often
saw them out of doors. It was above six o'clock when we arrived at
Amiens.[10] The entrance into the town is pretty. We went to the
cathedral; it has a pretty light spire: there is a beautiful portal
with figures carved all round. The inside is very prettily ornamented;
the pulpit is supported by Faith, Hope and Charity; above it are three
angels holding a curtain underneath which is the glory; all the figures
are gilt. There are two pretty painted wheel-windows; the organ is
silver, and looks rather poor. There are little chapels round the
inside of the cathedral, and images with cases of artificial flowers
before them. The pillars are so formed that when you strike them they
sound as if they were hollow. I did not think it altogether near so
grand as York Minster, but it is a very pretty thing. The concierge
told us that he had seen ten thousand in the church. When you look
up it looks too low, as if the top was cut off. There were several
nuns[11] walking up and down the cathedral. We returned to dinner at
the Hôtel des Ambassadeurs, where we slept; it is quite in the French
style, with red stone floors, no grates, fine clocks, etc.
[Illustration: SŒUR DE LA CHARITÉ]
_May 3rd._--In the morning when we asked for soap they said they had
none in the house; we at last sent out to buy a piece, and they brought
us in a bit of coarse brown soap. The soap that the French wash their
things with smells of aniseed and gives their beds a disagreeable
smell. The inn was by far the worst we met with; and the servants were
very careless. We set out with very fine weather for the first time,
and as the day advanced two or three butterflies made their appearance.
Our postillion seemed very gay, as he sung most of the time; presently
some of the ropes broke about the horses' heads, and while he was
employed in mending, with the help of another bit of rope and an old
knife, the postillion at the other carriage had also dismounted, and
was amusing himself by plaiting up his horses' tails. The harness often
broke and the horses kicked, but the men did not seem to mind it; if
we asked what was the matter, they always answered, 'Soyez tranquille,
soyez tranquille.' The French horses are little, clumsy-looking beasts.
At Hebecourt we met a kind of covered cart full of children and nurses
going to the Hospital des Enfans Trouvés at Paris; there was a soldier
to guard it, who sat on his horse like a woman and slapped his horse's
face. There seems to be a great want of living creatures in the fields;
we never met any except here and there a drove of pigs with very long
legs, or a walnut-coloured old woman leading (by a string) a thin,
miserable-looking cow. We once met a flock of sheep which followed
a man like dogs. Breteuil is a mean, dirty town; we had a very bad
breakfast in the Hôtel de ----.[12] The country about Breteuil is very
dreary and unpleasant. We saw several vineyards which were not near
so pretty as I expected: they were little, diminutive-looking things,
not so high as raspberry bushes. Near the villages we saw a number of
people washing in the _lavoirs_ or ponds made purposely. There were,
as usual, plenty of beggars; some of whom came and begged for bread
and wine. One of our postillions had a dog with him; he threw off his
gloves, the dog always picking them up and bringing them to him. Soon
after we had passed the village of Wavigny we were overtaken by a
violent storm of rain, hail, thunder and lightning, and as the storm
increased we were glad to take shelter in the post-house at St. Just.
Here we had a good deal of conversation with a servant girl; she told
us that they kept all the cattle in stables, and never out of doors.
Seeing some pigs that looked finer than usual in the farmyard, she said
that they had got them from a school where they brought up pigs. She
had a child in her arms which she offered to us all to kiss. When we
asked what it eat, she said soup and sweetmeats; she afterwards brought
it in some sugar and milk. The child had on a cotton cap trimmed with
black net: when she took it off to show us its hair, we told her how
much better it looked without it; she said 'yes, but that in France
they were afraid of their children catching cold if they went without
caps': which accounts for one's never seeing the children's neck, arms,
or hair. The people seemed to have been at dinner; there was a large
plate of cabbage, some curd, and apples on the table. Before we went
away mamma gave the girl a franc; she seemed hardly to know whether to
accept it or not, turned it about, and at last put it into her pocket
without saying a word. We were amused at one of our servants saying
'It's well we're off the _common_ now it rains' (owing to the want
of hedgerows and trees, the country did look more like a common than
anything else). When we set out the storm had abated, but the water
was running over the road in streams. A little further on the hail
was collected into large heaps, some of them nearly three feet long,
and above half a foot thick: these were lying on the sides of the
road, and over the fields for a quarter of a mile. We picked up some
small pieces: they were hail and mud stuck together; the hailstones
were bigger than large peas. A few miles from St. Just we had a very
fine view of Clermont; the town and castle are situated on a hill,
nearly surrounded by wood. It was about here that a little dog which
I fed with bread followed us for near half a mile. The country was
very pretty as we approached Chantilly: the wood of Hallate borders
the road on the left, in which we saw some wood pigeons; nearer the
town is a meadow, and canals are on each side of the road. In entering
Chantilly one of the horses got its leg over the traces, and horse
and man fell down beside the carriage; they, however, got up without
any accident. We drove to the Hôtel de Bourbon, an excellent inn. The
mistress is a nice, civil little woman; the master, who is also cook,
was twenty years in England. The rooms were very nicely furnished; in
the parlour was a jug full of lilies of the valley, which gave the room
a very sweet smell. While dinner was preparing we walked out towards
the palace stables. We passed by several neat houses, with gardens
and trellis-work covered with vines before the door. The trellis-work
was arched: I should think when it is covered with bunches of grapes
it must be very pretty. The stables consist of one enormous building,
six hundred feet in length and forty in height; above the entrance are
some very fine figures and horses. There was formerly a figure, which
the Allies melted into cannon balls when they were quartered there.
The palace was destroyed by a mob from Paris early in the Revolution;
a smaller château connected with it was spared, which is now the
habitation of the Prince of Condé. Several people asked if we wanted
to see the inside of the stables, but we had not sufficient time. It
was a very fine evening, the country round was very beautiful; there
was a great deal of wood about it. We walked a little in the garden
belonging to the inn; there were an immense number of cockchafers that
flew humming over our heads. Soon after we returned there was a great
deal of thunder and lightning. Before I went to bed I sat and watched
it at a window; when it lightened, the whole sky seemed illuminated. It
continued during part of the night, so that we were obliged to close
the windows. I liked Chantilly better than any place I had seen in
France.
_May 4th._--Before we set off we got some rolls to take in the
carriage. They were not the rolls, a yard and half a quarter long, but
quite round like rings, that the bakers carry hung over their arms. We
took a turn in the garden, where we met with an Irishman, who told us a
great deal about the stables, etc. He said that the Prince of Condé had
an extensive forest, where he was very fond of hunting; that one day he
would hunt the wild-boar, another day the roe-buck, another the stag,
and so on. After we had left Chantilly the country was very pretty,
and the forest of Chantilly soon began to skirt the road on the left.
Near Ecouen is a seminary for the education of the orphan daughters
of the members of the Legion of Honour. As we approached Paris, the
postillions were very smart, their queues were well powdered, and
at one place their boots were so large that they stepped into them.
Whenever the French postillions come near to a town or village, they
begin to crack their whips very dexterously, with which they make an
immense noise. The horses are tied with ropes, have sheep-skins over
their backs, and are always three abreast. Near many of the villages
we saw crucifixes and images. There are some little obelisks on the
side of the road, where Philip the Bold and his brothers rested when
they bore the corpse of their father from Paris to St. Denis. There is
an avenue of trees on each side of the road which bears marks of the
ravages of war. Soon after the village of La Chapelle we passed the
barrier of Paris. We entered Paris along the Rue de Clichy. We stopped
at Meurice's Hôtel, Rue St. Honoré. The sitting-room was carpeted and
had a boarded floor; there was a pretty clock and vases of alabaster
on the chimney-piece, and mirrors about the room; the furniture was a
kind of figured blue cotton velvet, which they have a great deal of
in France. Meurice and many of the waiters speak English; the inn is
very good; the servants did not seem to hear the bells, but we thought
that was probably because we were at the back of the house, rather out
of the way. The back of the hotel looks towards the gardens of the
Tuileries. We went to bed directly after tea.
[Illustration: A FRENCH POSTILLION]