April 20th. _Novara._ _Buffalora._ _Sedriano._ _Milan._ From Vercelli to

Novara the fields are all in rice, and now mostly under water. The dams

separating the several water-plats, or ponds, are set in willow. At Novara

there are some figs in the gardens, in situations well protected. From

Novara to the Ticino, it is mostly stony and waste, grown up in broom.

From Ticino to Milan, it is all in corn. Among the corn are willows,

principally a good many mulberries, some walnuts, and here and there

an almond. The country still a plain, the soil black and rich, except

between Novara and the Ticino, as before mentioned. There is very fine

pasture round Vercelli and Novara to the distance of two miles, within

which rice is not permitted. We cross the Sisto on the same kind of

vibrating or pendulum boat as on the Po. The river is eighty or ninety

yards wide; the rope fastened to an island two hundred yards above, and

supported by five intermediate canoes. It is about one and a half inches

in diameter. On these rivers they use a short oar of twelve feet long,

the flat end of which is hooped with iron, shooting out a prong at each

corner, so that it may be used occasionally as a setting pole. There is

snow on the Appenines, near Genoa. They have still another method here

of planting the vine. Along rows of trees, they lash poles from tree to

tree. Between the trees are set vines, which, passing over the pole,

are carried on to the pole of the next tree, whose vines are in like

manner brought to this, and twined together, thus forming the intervals

between the rows of trees alternately into arbors and open space. They

have another method also of making quick set hedges. Willows are planted

from one to two feet apart, and interlaced, so that every one is crossed

by three or four others.

April 21st, 22d. _Milan._ Figs and pomegranates grow here unsheltered,

as I am told. I saw none, and therefore suppose them rare. They had

formerly olives; but a great cold in 1709 killed them, and they have not

been replanted. Among a great many houses painted _al fresco_, the Casa

Roma and Casa Candiani, by Appiani, and Casa Belgioiosa, by Martin, are

superior. In the second is a small cabinet, the ceiling of which is in

small hexagons, within which are Cameos and heads painted alternately, no

two the same. The salon of the Casa Belgioiosa is superior to anything I

have ever seen. The mixture called Scaiola, of which they make their walls

and floors, is so like the finest marble as to be scarcely distinguishable

from it. The nights of the 20th and 21st instant the rice ponds froze

half an inch thick. Drouths of two or three months are not uncommon here

in summer. About five years ago, there was such a hail as to kill cats.

The Count del Verme tells me of a pendulum odometer for the wheel of a

carriage. Leases here are mostly for nine years. Wheat costs a louis

d'or the one hundred and forty pounds. A laboring man receives sixty

livres, and is fed and lodged. The trade of this country is principally

rice, raw silk, and cheese.

April 23d. _Casino_, five miles from Milan. I examined another

rice-beater of six pestles. They are eight feet nine inches long. Their

ends, instead of being a truncated cone, have nine teeth of iron, bound

closely together. Each tooth is a double pyramid, joined at the base.

When put together, they stand with the upper ends placed in contact,

so as to form them into one great cone, and the lower ends diverging.

The upper are socketed into the end of the pestle, and the lower, when

a little blunted by use, are not unlike the jaw teeth of the mammoth,

with their studs. They say here, that pestles armed with these teeth,

clean the rice faster, and break it less. The mortar, too, is of stone,

which is supposed as good as wood, and more durable. One half of these

pestles are always up. They rise about twenty-one inches, and each makes

thirty-eight strokes in a minute; one hundred pounds of rough rice is

put into the six mortars, and beaten somewhat less than a quarter of

an hour. It is then taken out, put into a sifter of four feet diameter,

suspended horizontally; sifted there; shifted into another of the same

size; sifted there; returned to the mortars; beaten little more than a

quarter of an hour; sifted again; and it is finished. The six pestles

will clear four thousand pounds in twenty-four hours. The pound here

is twenty-eight ounces; the ounce equal to that of Paris. The best rice

requires half an hour's boiling; a more indifferent kind, somewhat less.

To sow the rice, they first plough the ground, then level it with a

drag harrow, and let on the water; when the earth has become soft, they

smooth it with a shovel under the water, and then sow the rice in the

water.

_Rozzano._ Parmesan cheese. It is supposed this was formerly made at

Parma, and took its name thence, but none is made there now. It is made

through all the country extending from Milan for one hundred and fifty

miles. The most is made about Lodi. The making of butter being connected

with that of making cheese, both must be described together. There are,

in the stables I saw, eighty-five cows, fed on hay and grass, not on

grain. They are milked twice in twenty-four hours, ten cows yielding at

the two milkings a _brenta_ of milk, which is twenty-four of our gallons.

The night's milk is scummed in the morning at daybreak, when the cows are

milked again, and the new milk mixed with the old. In three hours, the

whole mass is scummed a second time, the milk remaining in a kettle for

cheese, and the cream being put into a cylindrical churn, shaped like

a grind-stone, eighteen inches radius, and fourteen inches thick. In

this churn, there are three staves pointing inwardly, endwise, to break

the current of the milk. Through its centre passes an iron axis, with

a handle at each end. It is turned about an hour and a half by two men

till the butter is produced. Then they pour off the buttermilk, and put

in some water which they agitate backwards and forwards about a minute,

and pour it off. They take out the butter, press it with their hands into

loaves, and stamp it. It has no other washing. Sixteen American gallons

of milk yield fifteen pounds of butter, which sell at twenty-four sous

the pound.

The milk, which, after being scummed as before, had been put into a

copper kettle, receives its due quantity of rennet, and is gently warmed,

if the season requires it. In about four hours it becomes a slip. Then

the whey begins to separate. A little of it is taken out. The curd is

then thoroughly broken by a machine like a chocolate mill. A quarter of

an ounce of saffron is put to seven brenta of milk, to give color to

the cheese. The kettle is then moved over the hearth, and heated by a

quick fire till the curd is hard enough, being broken into small lumps

by continued stirring. It is moved off the fire, most of the whey taken

out, the curd compressed into a globe by the hand, a linen cloth slipped

under it, and it is drawn out in that. A loose hoop is then laid on a

bench, and the curd, as wrapped in the linen, is put into the hoop; it

is a little pressed by the hand, the hoop drawn tight and made fast.

A board two inches thick is laid on it, and a stone on that of about

twenty pounds weight. In an hour, the whey is run off, and the cheese

finished. They sprinkle a little salt on it every other day in summer,

and every day in winter, for six weeks. Seven brentas of milk make a

cheese of fifty pounds, which requires six months to ripen, and is then

dried to forty-five pounds. It sells on the spot for eighty-eight livres

the one hundred pounds. There are now one hundred and fifty cheeses in

this dairy. They are nineteen inches diameter, and six inches thick.

They make a cheese a day in summer, and two in three days, or one in

two days, in winter.

The whey is put back into the kettle, the butter-milk poured into it,

and of this, they make a poor cheese for the country people. The whey

of this is given to the hogs. Eight men suffice to keep the cows and to

do all the business of this dairy. Mascarponi, a kind of curd, is made

by pouring some butter-milk into cream, which is thereby curdled, and

is then pressed into a linen cloth.

The ice-houses at Rozzano are dug about fifteen feet deep, and twenty

feet diameter, and poles are driven down all round. A conical thatched

roof is then put over them, fifteen feet high, and pieces of wood are

laid at the bottom, to keep the ice out of the water which drips from it,

and goes off by a sink. Straw is laid on this wood, and then the house

filled with ice, always putting straw between the ice and the walls, and

covering ultimately with straw. About a third is lost by melting. Snow

gives the most delicate flavor to creams; but ice is the most powerful

congealer, and lasts longest. A tuft of trees surrounds these ice-houses.

Round Milan, to the distance of five miles, are corn, pasture, gardens,

mulberries, willows, and vines. For in this State, rice ponds are not

permitted within five miles of the cities.

_Binasco._ _Pavia._ Near Cassino the rice ponds begin, and continue to

within five miles of Pavia, the whole ground being in rice, pasture, and

willows. The pasture is in the rice grounds which are resting. In the

neighborhood of Pavia, again, are corn, pasture, &c., as round Milan.

They gave me green peas at Pavia.

April 24th. _Voghera._ _Tortona._ _Novi._ From Pavia to Novi, corn,

pasture, vines, mulberries, willows; but no rice. The country continues

plain, except that the Appenines are approaching on the left. The soil,

always good, is dark till we approach Novi, and then red. We cross the

Po where it is three hundred yards wide, in a pendulum boat. The rope

is fastened on one side of the river, three hundred yards above, and

supported by eight intermediate canoes, with little masts in them to

give a greater elevation to the rope. We pass in eleven minutes. Women,

girls, and boys are working with the hoe, and breaking the clods with

mauls.

April 25th. _Voltaggio._ _Campo-Marone._ _Genoa._ At Novi, the Appenines

begin to rise. Their growth of timber is oak, tall, small and knotty, and

chesnut. We soon lose the walnut, ascending, and find it again, about

one-fourth of the way down, on the south side. About half way down,

we find figs and vines, which continue fine and in great abundance.

The Appenines are mostly covered with soil, and are in corn, pasture,

mulberries, and figs, in the parts before indicated. About half way

from their foot to Genoa, at Campo-Marone, we find again the olive tree.

Hence the produce becomes mixed, of all the kinds before mentioned. The

method of sowing the Indian corn at Campo-Marone, is as follows: With

a hoe shaped like the blade of a trowel, two feet long, and six inches

broad at its upper end; pointed below, and a little curved, they make

a trench. In that, they drop the grains six inches apart. Then two feet

from that, they make another trench, throwing the earth they take out of

that on the grain of the last one, with a singular slight and quickness;

and so through the whole piece. The last trench is filled with the earth

adjoining.

April 26th. _Genoa._ Strawberries at Genoa. Scaffold poles for the upper

parts of a wall, as for the third story, rest on the window sills of the

story below. Slate is used here for paving, for steps, for stairs, (the

rise as well as tread) and for fixed Venetian blinds. At the Palazzo

Marcello Durazzo, benches with straight legs, and bottoms of cane. At

the Palazzo del principe Lomellino, at Sestri, a phaeton with a canopy.

At the former, tables folding into one plane. At Nervi they have peas,

strawberries, &c., all the year round. The gardens of the Count Durazzo

at Nervi, exhibit as rich a mixture of the _utile dulci_, as I ever saw.

All the environs in Genoa, are in olives, figs, oranges, mulberries,

corn, and garden stuff. Aloes in many places, but they never flower.

April 28th. _Noli._ The Apennine and Alps appear to me, to be one and

the same continued ridge of mountains, separating everywhere the waters

of the Adriatic Gulf from those of the Mediterranean. Where it forms an

elbow, touching the Mediterranean, as a smaller circle touches a larger,

within which it is inscribed, in the manner of a tangent, the name

changes from Alps to Apennine. It is the beginning of the Apennine which

constitutes the State of Genoa, the mountains there generally falling

down in barren naked precipices into the sea. Wherever there is soil on

the lower parts, it is principally in olives and figs, in vines also,

mulberries, and corn. Where there are hollows well protected, there are

oranges. This is the case at Golfo de Laspeze, Sestri, Bugiasco, Nervi,

Genoa, Pegli, Savona, Finale, Oneglia, (where there are abundance,)

St. Remo, Ventimiglia, Mantone, and Monaco. Noli, into which I was

obliged to put, by a change of wind, is forty miles from Genoa. There

are twelve hundred inhabitants in the village, and many separate houses

round about. One of the precipices hanging over the sea is covered with

aloes. But neither here, nor anywhere else I have been, could I procure

satisfactory information that they ever flower. The current of testimony

is to the contrary. Noli furnishes many fishermen. Paths penetrate up

into the mountains in several directions, about three-fourths of a mile;

but these are practicable only for asses and mules. I saw no cattle nor

sheep in the settlement. The wine they make, is white and indifferent.

A curious cruet for oil and vinegar in one piece, I saw here. A bishop

resides here, whose revenue is two thousand livres, equal to sixty-six

guineas. I heard a nightingale here.

April 29th. _Albenga._ In walking along the shore from Louano to this

place, I saw no appearance of shells. The tops of the mountains are

covered with snow, while there are olive trees, &c. on the lower parts. I

do not remember to have seen assigned anywhere, the cause of the apparent

color of the sea. Its water is generally clear and colorless, if taken

up and viewed in a glass. That of the Mediterranean is remarkably so.

Yet in the mass, it assumes, _by reflection_, the color of the sky or

atmosphere, black, green, blue, according to the state of the weather.

If any person wished to retire from his acquaintance, to live absolutely

unknown, and yet in the midst of physical enjoyments, it should be in

some of the little villages of this coast, where air, water and earth

concur to offer what each has, most precious. Here are nightingales,

beccaficas, ortolans, pheasants, partridges, quails, a superb climate,

and the power of changing it from summer to winter at any moment, by

ascending the mountains. The earth furnishes wine, oil, figs, oranges,

and every production of the garden, in every season. The sea yields

lobsters, crabs, oysters, thunny, sardines, anchovies, &c. Ortolans sell

at this time, at thirty sous, equal to one shilling sterling, the dozen.

At this season, they must be fattened. Through the whole of my route from

Marseilles, I observe they plant a great deal of cane or reed, which

is convenient while growing, as a cover from the cold and boisterous

winds, and when cut, it serves for espaliers to vines, peas, &c. Through

Piedmont, Lombardy, the Milanese, and Genoese, the garden bean is a

great article of culture; almost as much so as corn. At Albenga, is a

rich plain opening from between two ridges of mountains, triangularly,

to the sea, and of several miles extent. Its growth is olives, figs,

mulberries, vines, corn, and beans. There is some pasture. A bishop

resides here, whose revenue is forty thousand livres. This place is said

to be rendered unhealthy in summer, by the river which passes through

the valley.

April 30th. _Oneglia._ The wind continuing contrary, I took mules

at Albenga for Oneglia. Along this tract are many of the tree called

carroubier, being a species of locust. It is the ceratonia siliqua of

Linnæus. Its pods furnish food for horses, and also for the poor, in time

of scarcity. It abounds in Naples and Spain. Oneglia and Port Maurice,

which are within a mile of each other, are considerable places, and in

a rich country. At St. Remo, are abundance of oranges and lemons, and

some palm trees.

May 1st. _Ventimiglia._ _Menton._ _Monaco._ _Nice._ At Bordighera,

between Ventimiglia and Menton, are extensive plantations of palms, on

the hill as well as in the plain. They bring fruit, but it does not

ripen. Something is made of the midrib, which is in great demand at

Rome, on the Palm Sunday, and which renders this tree profitable here.

From Menton to Monaco, there is more good land, and extensive groves

of oranges and lemons. Orange water sells here at forty sous, equal to

sixteen pence sterling, the American quart. The distances on this coast,

are, from Laspeze, at the eastern end of the territories of Genoa to

Genoa, fifty-five miles, geometrical; to Savona, thirty; Albenga, thirty;

Oneglia, twenty; Ventimiglia, twenty-five; Monaco, ten; Nice, ten; in

the whole, one hundred and eighty miles. A superb road might be made

along the margin of the sea from Laspeze, where the champaign country

of Italy opens, to Nice, where the Alps go off northwardly, and the

post roads of France begin; and it might even follow the margin of the

sea quite to Cette. By this road, travellers would enter Italy without

crossing the Alps, and all the little insulated villages of the Genoese

would communicate together, and in time form one continued village along

that road.

May 3d. _Luc._ _Brignolles._ _Tourves._ _Pourcieux._ _La Galiniere._ Long,

small mountains, very rocky, the soil reddish from bad to middling; in

olives, grapes, mulberries, vines and corn. Brignolles is in an extensive

plain, between two ridges of mountains, and along a water course which

continues to Tourves. Thence to Pourcieux we cross a mountain, low and

easy. The country is rocky and poor. To la Galiniere are waving grounds,

bounded by mountains of rock at a little distance. There are some

inclosures of dry wall from Luc to la Galiniere; also, sheep and hogs.

There is snow on the high mountains. I see no plums in the vicinities of

Brignolles; which makes me conjecture that the celebrated plum of that

name, is not derived from this place.

May 8. _Orgon._ _Avignon._ _Vaucluse._ Orgon is on the Durance. From

thence, its plain opens till it becomes common with that of the Rhone; so

that from Orgon to Avignon is entirely a plain of rich dark loam, which

is in willows, mulberries, vines, corn and pasture. A very few figs. I

see no olives in this plain. Probably the cold winds have too much power

here. From the Bac de Nova (where we cross the Durance) to Avignon, is

about nine American miles; and from the same Bac to Vaucluse, eleven

miles. In the valley of Vaucluse, and on the hills impending over it,

are olive trees. The stream issuing from the fountain of Vaucluse is

about twenty yards wide, four or five feet deep, and of such rapidity

that it could not be stemmed by a canoe. They are now mowing hay, and

gathering mulberry leaves. The high mountains just back of Vaucluse are

covered with snow. Fine trout in the stream of Vaucluse, and the valley

abounds peculiarly with nightingales. The vin blanc de M. de Rochequde

of Avignon, resembles dry Lisbon. He sells it at six years old for

twenty-two sous the bottle, the price of the bottle, &c., included.

_Avignon._ _Remoulins._ Some good plains, but generally hills, stony

and poor. In olives, mulberries, vines and corn. Where it is waste the

growth is, chene-vert, box, furze, thyme and rosemary.

May 10. _Nismes._ _Lunel._ Hills on the right, plains on the left. The

soil reddish, a little stony, and of middling quality. The produce,

olives, mulberries, vines, corn, St. foin. No wood and few inclosures.

Lunel is famous for its vin de muscat blanc, thence called Lunel, or vin

muscat de Lunel. It is made from the raisin muscat, without fermenting

the grain in the hopper. When fermented it makes a red muscat, taking the

tinge from the dissolution of the skin of the grape, which injures the

quality. When a red muscat is required, they prefer coloring it with a

little Alicant wine. But the white is best. The piece of two hundred and

forty bottles, after being properly drawn off from its lees, and ready

for bottling, costs from one hundred and twenty to two hundred livres,

the first quality and last vintage. It cannot be bought old, the demand

being sufficient to take it all the first year. They are not more than

from fifty to one hundred pieces a year, made of this first quality. A

_setterie_ yields about one piece, and my informer supposes there are

about two setteries in an arpent. Portage to Paris by land is fifteen

livres the quintal. The best _recoltes_ are these of M. Bouquet and M.

Tremoulet. The vines are in rows four feet apart, every way.

May 11. _Montpelier._ Snow on the Cevennes, still visible from here.

With respect to the muscat grape, of which the wine is made, there are

two kinds, the red and the white. The first has a red skin, but a white

juice. If it be fermented in the cuve, the coloring matter which resides

in the skin is imparted to the wine. If not fermented in the cuve, the

wine is white. Of the white grape, only a white wine can be made. The

species of St. foin cultivated here by the name of sparsette, is the

hedysarum onobryches. They cultivate a great deal of madder (garance)

rubia tinctorum here, which is said to be immensely profitable. Monsieur

de Gouan tells me that the pine, of which they use the burs for fuel,

is the pinus sativus, being two leaved. They use for an edging to the

borders of their gardens, the santolina, which they call garderobe. I

find the yellow clover here, in a garden; and the large pigeon succeeding

well, confined in a house.

May 12. _Frontignan._ Some tolerably good plains in olives, vines, corn,

St. foin, and lucerne. A great proportion of the hills are waste. There

are some inclosures of stone, and some sheep. The first four years of

madder are unproductive; the fifth and sixth yield the whole value of

the land. Then it must be renewed. The sparsette is the common or true

St. foin. It lasts about five years; in the best land it is cut twice,

in May and September, and yields three thousand pounds of dry hay to

the setterie, the first cutting, and five hundred pounds the second.

The setterie is of seventy-five _dextres en tout sens_, supposed about

two arpents. Lucerne is the best of all forage; it is sowed here in the

broadcast, and lasts about twelve or fourteen years. It is cut four

times a year, and yields six thousand pounds of dry hay at the four

cuttings, to the setterie. The territory in which the vin muscat de

Frontignan is made, is about a league of three thousand toises long,

and one-fourth of a league broad. The soil is reddish and stony, often

as much stone as soil. On the left, it is a plain, on the right, hills.

There are made about one thousand pieces (of two hundred and fifty bottles

each) annually, of which six hundred are of the first quality, made on

the _coteaux_. Of these, Madame Soubeinan makes two hundred, Monsieur

Reboulle, ninety. Monsieur Lambert, médicin de la faculté de Montpelier,

sixty, Monsieur Thomas, notaire, fifty, Monsieur Argilliers, fifty,

Monsieur Audibert, forty; equal to four hundred and ninety; and there

are some small proprietors who make small quantities. The first quality

is sold, _brut_, for one hundred and twenty livres the piece; but it is

then thick, and must have a winter and the _fouet_ to render it potable

and brilliant. The fouet is like a chocolate mill, the handle of iron,

the brush of stiff hair. In bottles, this wine costs twenty-four sous,

the bottles, &c., included. It is potable the April after it is made,

is best that year, and after ten years begins to have a pitchy taste,

resembling it to Malaga. It is not permitted to ferment more than half

a day, because it would not be so liquorish. The best color, and its

natural one, is the amber. By force of whipping, it is made white, but

loses favor. There are but two or three pieces a year of red muscat

made; there being but one vineyard of the red grape, which belongs to

a baker called Pascal. This sells in bottles at thirty sous, the bottle

included. Rondelle, negociant en vin, Porte St. Bernard, fauxbourg St.

Germains, Paris, buys three hundred pieces of the first quality every

year. The coteaux yield about half a piece to the setterie, the plains a

whole piece. The inferior quality is not at all esteemed. It is bought

by the merchants of Cette, as is also the wine of Bezieres, and sold

by them for Frontignan of the first quality. They sell thirty thousand

pieces a year under that name. The town of Frontignan marks its casks

with a hot iron: an individual of that place having two casks emptied,

was offered forty livres for the empty cask by a merchant of Cette. The

town of Frontignan contains about two thousand inhabitants; it is almost

on the level of the ocean. Transportation to Paris is fifteen livres the

quintal, and takes fifteen days. The price of packages is about eight

livres eight sous the one hundred bottles. A setterie of good vineyard

sells for from three hundred and fifty to five hundred livres, and rents

for fifty livres. A laboring man hires at one hundred and fifty livres

the year, and is fed and lodged; a woman at half as much. Wheat sells

at ten livres the settier, which weighs one hundred pounds, poids de

table. They make some Indian corn here, which is eaten by the poor. The

olives do not extend northward of this into the country, above twelve

or fifteen leagues. In general, the olive country in Languedoc is about

fifteen leagues broad. More of the waste lands between Frontignan and

Mirval are capable of culture; but it is a marshy country, very subject

to fever and ague, and generally unhealthy. Thence arises, as is said,

a want of hands.

_Cette._ There are in this town about ten thousand inhabitants. Its

principal commerce is wine; it furnishes great quantities of grape pomice

for making verdigrise. They have a very growing commerce; but it is kept

under by the privileges of Marseilles.

May 13. _Agde._ On the right of the Etang de Tau, are plains of some

width, then hills, in olives, vines, mulberry, corn and pasture. On the

left, a narrow sand bar separating the Etang from the sea, along which

it is proposed to make a road from Cette to Agde. In this case, the

post would lead from Montpelier, by Cette and Agde, to Bezieres, being

leveller, and an hour, or an hour and a half nearer. Agde contains six

or eight thousand inhabitants.

May 14. _Bezieres._ Rich plains in corn, St. foin and pasture; hills at a

little distance to the right, in olives; the soil both of hill and plain

is red, going from Agde to Bezieres. But at Bezieres the country becomes

hilly, and is in olives, St. foin, pasture, some vines and mulberries.

May 15. _Bezieres._ _Argilies._ _Le Saumal._ From Argilies to Saumal are

considerable plantations of vines. Those on the red hills to the right,

are said to produce good wine. No wood, no inclosures. There are sheep

and good cattle. The Pyrenees are covered with snow. I am told they are

so in certain parts all the year. The canal of Languedoc, along which I

now travel, is six toises wide at bottom, and ten toises at the surface

of the water, which is one toise deep. The barks which navigate it

are seventy and eighty feet long, and seventeen or eighteen feet wide.

They are drawn by one horse, and worked by two hands, one of which is

generally a woman. The locks are mostly kept by women, but the necessary

operations are much too laborious for them. The encroachments by the

men, on the offices proper for the women, is a great derangement in the

order of things. Men are shoemakers, tailors, upholsterers, stay-makers,

mantua-makers, cooks, housekeepers, house-cleaners, bed-makers, they

_coeffe_ the ladies, and bring them to bed: the women, therefore, to

live, are obliged to undertake the offices which they abandon. They

become porters, carters, reapers, sailors, lock-keepers, smiters on the

anvil, cultivators of the earth, &c. Can we wonder, if such of them as

have a little beauty, prefer easier courses to get their livelihood, as

long as that beauty lasts? Ladies who employ men in the offices which

should be reserved for their sex, are they not bawds in effect? For every

man whom they thus employ, some girl, whose place he has thus taken, is

driven to whoredom. The passage of the eight locks at Bezieres, that

is, from the opening of the first to the last gate, took one hour and

thirty-three minutes. The bark in which I go, is about thirty-five feet

long, drawn by one horse, and goes from two to three geographical miles

an hour. The canal yields abundance of carp and eel. I see also small

fish resembling our perch and chub. Some plants of white clover and

some of yellow, on the banks of the canal near Capestan; santolina also,

and a great deal of yellow iris. Met a raft of about three hundred and

fifty beams, forty feet long, and twelve or thirteen inches in diameter,

formed into fourteen rafts, tacked together. The extensive and numerous

fields of St. foin in general bloom, are beautiful.

May 16th. _Le Saumal._ _Marseillette._ May 17th. _Marseillette._

_Carcassonne._ From Saumal to Carcassonne, we have always the river Aube

close on our left. This river runs in the valley between the Cevennes

and Pyrenees, serving as the common receptacle for both their waters. It

is from fifty to one hundred and fifty yards wide, always rapid, rocky,

and insusceptible of navigation. The canal passes in the side of hills

made by that river, overlooks the river itself, and its plains, and has

its prospect ultimately terminated, on one side, by mountains of rock

overtopped by the Pyrenees, on the other, by small mountains, sometimes of

rock, sometimes of soil, overtopped by the Cevennes. Marseillette is on

a ridge, which separates the river Aube from the Etang de Marseillette.

The canal, in its approach to this village, passes the ridge, and rides

along the front, overlooking the Etang, and the plains on its border;

and having passed the village, re-crosses the ridge, and resumes its

general ground in front of the Aube. The land is in corn, St. foin,

pasture, vines, mulberries, willows, and olives.

May 18th. _Carcassonne._ _Castelnaudari._ Opposite to Carcassonne, the

canal receives the river Fresquel, about thirty yards wide, which is

its substantial supply of water from hence to Bezieres. From Bezieres

to Agde, the river Orb furnishes it, and the Eraut, from Agde to the

Etang de Thau. By means of _ecluse ronde_ at Agde, the waters of the

Eraut can be thrown towards Bezieres, to aid those of the Orb, as far as

the ecluse de Porcaraigne, nine geometrical miles. Where the Fresquel

enters the canal, there is, on the opposite side, a waste, to let off

the superfluous waters. The horseway is continued over this waste, by

a bridge of stone of eighteen arches. I observe them fishing in the

canal, with a skimming net of about fifteen feet diameter, with which

they tell me they catch carp. Flax in blossom. Neither strawberries

nor peas yet at Carcassonne. The Windsor bean just come to table. From

the ecluse de la Lande we see the last olive trees near a metairée, or

farm house, called la Lande. On a review of what I have seen and heard

of this tree, the following seem to be its northern limits. Beginning

on the Atlantic, at the Pyrenees, and along them to the meridian of

la Lande, or of Carcassonne; up that meridian to the Cevennes, as they

begin just there to raise themselves high enough to afford it shelter.

Along the Cevennes, to the parallel of forty-five degrees of latitude,

and along that parallel (crossing the Rhone near the mouth of the Isere)

to the Alps; thence along the Alps and Apennines, to what parallel of

latitude I know not. Yet here the tracing of the line becomes the most

interesting. For from the Atlantic, so far, we see this production the

effect of shelter and latitude combined. But where does it venture to

launch forth unprotected by shelter, and by the mere force of latitude

alone? Where for instance does its northern limits cross the Adriatic?

I learn that the olive tree resists cold to eight degrees of Reaumur

below the freezing point, which corresponds to fourteen above zero of

Farenheit; and that the orange resists to four degrees below freezing

of Reaumur, which is twenty-three degrees above zero of Farenheit.

May 19th. _Castelnaudari._ _St. Feriol._ _Escamaze._ _Lampy._ Some sheep

and cattle; no inclosures. St. Feriol, Escamaze, and Lampy are in the

_montagnes noires_. The country almost entirely waste. Some of it in

shrubbery. The _voute_ d'Escamaze is of one hundred and thirty-five

yards. Round about Castelnaudari, the country is hilly, as it has been

constantly from Bezieres; it is very rich. Where it is plain, or nearly

plain, the soil is black; in general, however, it is hilly and reddish,

and in corn. They cultivate a great deal of Indian corn here, which they

call millet; it is planted but not yet up.

May 20th. _Castelnaudari._ _Naurouze._ _Villefranche._ _Baziege._ At

Naurouze, is the highest ground which the canal had to pass, between the

two seas. It became necessary then to find water still higher to bring

it here. The river Fresquel heading by its two principal branches in

the montagnes noires, a considerable distance off to the eastward, the

springs of the most western one were brought together, and conducted

to Naurouze, where its waters are divided, part furnishing the canal

towards the ocean, the rest towards the Mediterranean, as far as the

ecluse de Fresquel, where, as has been before noted, the Lampy branch,

and the Alzau, under the name of the Fresquel, enter.

May 20th. They have found that a lock of six pieds is best; however,

eight pieds is well enough. Beyond this, it is bad. Monsieur Pin tells

me of a lock of thirty pieds, made in Sweden, of which it is impossible

to open the gates. They therefore divided it into four locks. The small

gates of the locks of this canal, have six square pieds of surface. They

tried the machinery of the jack for opening them. They were more easily

opened, but very subject to be deranged, however strongly made. They

returned therefore to the original wooden screw, which is excessively

slow and laborious. I calculate that five minutes are lost at every

basin by this screw, which, on the whole number of basis, is one eighth

of the time necessary to navigate the canal; and of course, if a method

of lifting the gate at one stroke could be found, it would reduce the

passage from eight to seven days, and the freight equally. I suggested

to Monsieur Pin and others, a quadrantal gate, turning on a pivot, and

lifted by a lever like a pump handle, aided by a windlass and cord, if

necessary. He will try it, and inform me of the success. The price of

transportation from Cette to Bourdeaux, through the canal and Garonne is

---- the quintal; round by the straits of Gibraltar is ----. Two hundred

and forty barks, the largest of twenty-two hundred quintals (or say, in

general, of one hundred tons) suffice to perform the business of this

canal, which is stationary, having neither increased nor diminished for

many years. When pressed, they can pass and repass between Toulouse and

Bezieres in fourteen days; but sixteen is the common period. The canal

is navigated ten and a half months of the year; the other month and a

half being necessary to lay it dry, cleanse it and repair the works.

This is done in July and August, when there would, perhaps, be a want

of water.

May 21st. _Baziege._ _Toulouse._ The country continues hilly, but very

rich. It is in mulberries, willows, some vines, corn, maize, pasture,

beans, flax. A great number of chateaux and good houses, in the

neighborhood of the canal. The people partly in farm houses, partly in

villages. I suspect the farm houses are occupied by the farmers, while

the laborers (who are mostly by the day) reside in the villages. Neither

strawberries nor peas yet at Baziege or Toulouse. Near the latter, are

some fields of yellow clover.

At Toulouse the canal ends. It has four communications with the

Mediterranean. 1. Through the ponds of Thau, Frontignan, Palavas,

Maguelone, and Manjo, the canal de la Radela Aiguesmortes, le canal des

Salines de Pecair, and the arm of the Rhone called Bras de fer, which

ends at Fourgues, opposite to Arles, and thence down the Rhone. 2. At

Cette, by a canal of a few hundred toises, leading out of the Etang de

Thau into the sea. The vessels pass the Etang, through a length of nine

thousand toises, with sails. 3. At Agde, by the river Eraut, twenty-five

hundred toises. It has but five or six pieds of water at its mouth. It

is joined to the canal at the upper part of this communication, by a

branch of a canal two hundred and seventy toises long. 4. At Narbonne, by

a canal they are now opening, which leads from the great canal near the

aqueduct of the river Cesse, twenty-six hundred toises, into the Aude.

This new canal will have five lock-basins of about twelve pieds fall,

each. Then you are to cross the Aude very obliquely, and descend a branch

of it six thousand toises, through four lock-basins to Narbonne, and

from Narbonne down the same branch, twelve hundred toises into the Etang

de Sigen, across that Etang four thousand toises, issuing at an inlet,

called Grau de la nouvelle, into the Gulph of Lyons. But only vessels of

thirty or forty tons can enter this inlet. Of these four communications,

that of Cette only, leads to a deep sea-port, because the exit is there

by a canal, and not a river. Those by the Rhone, Eraut, and Aude, are

blocked up by bars at the mouths of those rivers. It is remarkable, that

all the rivers running into the Mediterranean, are obstructed at their

entrance by bars and shallows, which often change their position. This

is the case with the Nile, Tyber, the Po, the Lez, le Lyoron, the Orbe,

the Gly, the Tech, the Tet, &c. Indeed, the formation of these bars seems

not confined to the mouths of the rivers, though it takes place at them,

more certainly. Along almost the whole of the coast, from Marseilles

towards the Pyrenees, banks of sand are thrown up, parallel with the

coast, which have insulated portions of the sea, that is, formed them

into etangs, ponds, or sounds, through which here and there, narrow and

shallow inlets only, are preserved by the currents of the rivers. These

sounds fill up in time, with the mud and sand deposited in them by the

rivers. Thus the Etang de Vendres, navigated formerly by vessels of sixty

tons, is now nearly filled up by the mud and sand of the Aude. The Vistre

and Vidourle which formerly emptied themselves into the Gulf of Lyons,

are now received by the Etangs de Manjo and Aiguesmortes, that is to say,

the part of the Gulf of Lyons which formerly received, and still receives

those rivers, is now cut off from the sea by a bar of sand, which has

been thrown up in it, and has formed it into sounds. Other proofs that

the land gains there on the sea, are, that the towns of St. Gilles and

Notre dame d'asposts, formerly sea ports, are now far from the sea, and

that Aiguesmortes, where are still to be seen the iron rings to which

vessels were formerly moored, and where St. Louis embarked for Palestine,

has now in its vicinities, only ponds which cannot be navigated, and

communicates with the sea by an inlet, called Grau du roy, through which

only fishing barks can pass. It is pretty well established, that all the

Delta of Egypt has been formed by the depositions of the Nile, and the

alluvions of the sea, and it is probable that that operation is still

going on. Has this peculiarity of the Mediterranean any connection with

the scantiness of its tides, which even at the equinoxes, are of two or

three feet only?

The communication from the western end of the canal to the ocean is by

the river Garonne. This is navigated by flat boats of eight hundred

quintals, when the water is well; but when it is scanty, these boats

carry only two hundred quintals till they get to the mouth of the Tarn.

It has been proposed to open a canal that far, from Toulouse, along the

right side of the river.

May 22d. _Toulouse._ 23d. _Agen._ 24th. _Castres._ _Bourdeaux._ The

Garonne and rivers emptying into it, make extensive and rich plains, which

are in mulberries, willows, corn, maize, pasture, beans and flax. The

hills are in corn, maize, beans, and a considerable proportion of vines.

There seems to be as much maize as corn in this country. Of the latter,

there is more rye than wheat. The maize is now up, and about three inches

high. It is sowed in rows two feet, or two and a half feet apart, and

is pretty thick in the row. Doubtless they mean to thin it. There is a

great deal of forage they call farouche. It is a species of red trefoil,

with few leaves, a very coarse stalk, and a cylindrical blossom of two

inches in length, and three quarters of an inch in diameter, consisting

of floscules, exactly as does that of the red clover. It seems to be a

coarse food, but very plentiful. They say it is for their oxen. These

are very fine, large, and cream-colored. The services of the farm, and

of transportation, are performed chiefly by them. There are a few horses

and asses, but no mules. Even in the city of Bourdeaux, we see scarcely

any beasts of draught but oxen. When we cross the Garonne at Langon,

we find the plains entirely of sand and gravel, and they continue so to

Bourdeaux. Where they are capable of anything, they are in vines, which

are in rows, four, five, or six feet apart, and sometimes more. Near

Langon is Sauterne, where the best white wines of Bourdeaux are made. The

waste lands are in fern, furze, shrubbery, and dwarf trees. The farmers

live on their farms. At Agen, Castres, Bourdeaux, strawberries and peas

are now brought to table, so that the country on the canal of Languedoc

seems to have later seasons than that east and west of it. What can be

the cause? To the eastward, the protection of the Cevennes makes the

warm season advance sooner. Does the neighborhood of the Mediterranean

co-operate? And does that of the ocean mollify and advance the season

to the westward? There are ortolans at Agen, but none at Bourdeaux. The

buildings on the canal and the Garonne are mostly of brick, the size

of the bricks the same with that of the ancient Roman brick, as seen in

the remains of their buildings in this country. In those of a circus at

Bourdeaux, considerable portions of which are standing, I measured the

bricks, and found them nineteen or twenty inches long, eleven or twelve

inches wide, and from one and a half to two inches thick; their texture

as fine, compact, and solid as that of porcelain. The bricks now made,

though of the same dimensions, are not so fine. They are burnt in a

kind of furnace, and make excellent work. The elm tree shows itself at

Bourdeaux, peculiarly proper for being spread flat for arbors. Many are

done in, this way on the quay des Charterons. Strawberries, peas, and

cherries at Bourdeaux.

May 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th. _Bourdeaux._ The cantons in which the

most celebrated wines of Bourdeaux are made, are Medoc down the river,

Grave adjoining the city, and the parishes next above; all on the same

side of the river. In the first is made red wine principally, in the

two last, white. In Medoc, they plant the vines in cross rows of three

and a half pieds. They keep them so low, that poles extended along the

rows one way, horizontally, about fifteen or eighteen inches above the

ground, serve to tie the vines to, and leave the cross row open to the

plough. In Grave, they set the plants in quincunx, _i. e._ in equilateral

triangles of three and a half pieds every side; and they stick a pole

of six or eight feet high to every vine, separately. The vine stock is

sometimes three or four feet high. They find these two methods equal in

culture, duration, quantity and quality. The former, however, admits the

alternative of tending by hand or with the plough. The grafting of the

vine, though a critical operation, is practised with success. When the

graft has taken, they bend it into the earth, and let it take root above

the scar. They begin to yield an indifferent wine at three years old,

but not a good one till twenty-five years, nor after eighty, when they

begin to yield less, and worse, and must be renewed. They give three or

four workings in the year, each worth seventy, or seventy-five livres

the _journal_, which is of eight hundred and forty square toises, and

contains about three thousand plants. They dung a little in Medoc and

Grave, because of the poverty of the soil; but very little, as more would

effect the wine. The journal yields, _communibus annis_, about three

pieces (of two hundred and forty or two hundred and fifty bottles each).

The vineyards of first quality are all worked by their proprietors.

Those of the second rent for three hundred livres the journal, those

of the third at two hundred livres. They employ a kind of overseer at

four or five hundred livres the year, finding him lodging and drink;

but he feeds himself. He superintends and directs, though he is expected

to work but little. If the proprietor has a garden, the overseer tends

that. They never hire laborers by the year. The day wages for a man are

thirty sous, a woman's fifteen sous, feeding themselves. The women make

the bundles of sarment, weed, pull off the snails, tie the vines, and

gather the grapes. During the vintage, they are paid high and fed well.

Of red wines, there are four vineyards of the first quality, viz., 1.

Château Margau, belonging to the Marquis d'Agincourt, who makes about

one hundred and fifty tons, of one thousand bottles each. He has engaged

to Jernon, a merchant. 2. La Tour de Segur, en Saint Lambert, belonging

to Monsieur Miresmenil, who makes one hundred and twenty-five tons.

3. Hautbrion, belonging two thirds to M. le Comte de Femelle, who has

engaged to Barton, a merchant; the other third to the Comte de Toulouse,

at Toulouse. The whole is seventy-five tons. 4. Château de la Fite,

belonging to the President Pichard, at Bourdeaux, who makes one hundred

and seventy-five tons. The wines of the three first are not in perfection

till four years old; those of De la Fite, being somewhat lighter, are

good at three years, that is, the crop of 1786 is good in the spring of

1789. These growths of the year 1783 sell now at two thousand livres the

ton; those of 1784, on account of the superior quality of that vintage,

sell at twenty-four hundred livres; those of 1785, at eighteen hundred

livres; those of 1786, at eighteen hundred livres, though they had sold at

first for only fifteen hundred livres. Red wines of the second quality,

are Rozan, Dabbadie or Lionville, la Rose, Quirouen, Durfort; in all

eight hundred tons, which sell at one thousand livres, new. The third

class are, Calons, Mouton, Gassie, Arboete, Pontette, de Ferme, Candale;

in all two thousand tons, at eight or nine hundred livres. After these,

they are reckoned common wines, and sell from five hundred livres down

to one hundred and twenty livres the ton. All red wines decline after

a certain age, losing color, flavor and body. Those of Bourdeaux begin

to decline at about seven years old.

Of white wines, those made in the canton of Grave are most esteemed at

Bourdeaux. The best crops are, 1. Pontac, which formerly belonged to M.

de Pontac, but now to M. de Lamont. He makes forty tons, which sell at

four hundred livres, new. 2. St. Brise, belonging to M. de Pontac; thirty

tons, at three hundred and fifty livres. 3. De Carbonius, belonging to the

Benedictine monks, who make fifty tons, and never selling till three or

four years old, get eight hundred livres the ton. Those made in the three

parishes next above Grave, and more esteemed at Paris, are, 1. Sauterne.

The best crop belonging to M. Diquem at Bourdeaux, or to M. de Salus,

his son-in-law; one hundred and fifty tons, at three hundred livres,

new, and six hundred livres, old. The next best crop is M. de Filotte's;

one hundred tons, sold at the same price. 2. Prignac. The best is the

President du Roy's, at Bourdeaux. He makes one hundred and seventy-five

tons, which sell at three hundred livres, new, and six hundred livres,

old. Those of 1784, for their extraordinary quality, sell at eight hundred

livres. 3. Barsac. The best belongs to the President Pichard, who makes

one hundred and fifty tons, at two hundred and eighty livres, new, and

six hundred livres, old. Sauterne is the pleasantest; next Prignac, and

lastly Barsac; but Barsac is the strongest; next Prignac, and lastly

Sauterne; and all stronger than Grave. There are other good crops made

in the same parishes of Sauterne, Prignac, and Barsac; but none as good

as these. There is a virgin wine, which, though made of a red grape,

is of a light rose color, because, being made without pressure, the

coloring matter of the skin does not mix with the juice. There are other

white wines, from the preceding prices down to seventy-five livres. In

general, the white wines keep longest. They will be in perfection till

fifteen or twenty years of age. The best vintage now to be bought, is

of 1784; both of red and white. There has been no other good year since

1779.

The celebrated vineyards before mentioned are plains, as is generally

the canton of Medoc, and that of the Grave. The soil of Hautbrion,

particularly, which I examined, is a sand, in which is near as much round

gravel or small stone, and very little loam; and this is the general soil

of Medoc. That of Pontac, which I examined also, is a little different.

It is clayey, with a fourth or fifth of fine rotten stone; and at two

feet depth it becomes all a rotten stone. M. de Lamont tells me he has a

kind of grape without seeds, which I did not formerly suppose to exist;

but I saw at Marseilles dried raisins from Smyrna without seeds. I saw

in his farm at Pontac some plants of white clover, and a good deal of

yellow; also some small peach trees in the open ground. The principal

English wine merchants at Bourdeaux are, Jemon, Barton, Johnston, Foster,

Skinner, Copinger and M'Cartey; the chief French wine merchants are,

Feger, Nerac, Bruneau, Jauge, and du Verget. Desgrands, a wine broker,

tells me they never mix the wines of first quality; but that they mix

the inferior ones to improve them. The smallest wines make the best

brandy. They yield about a fifth or sixth.

May 28th, 29th. From Bordeaux to Blaye, the country near the river

is hilly, chiefly in vines, some corn, some pasture; further out, are

plains, boggy and waste. The soil, in both cases, clay and grit. Some

sheep on the waste. To Etauliere, we have sometimes boggy plains,

sometimes waving grounds and sandy, always poor, generally waste, in

fern and furze, with some corn however, interspersed. To Mirambeau and

St. Genis, it is hilly, poor, and mostly waste. There are some corn and

maize however, and better trees than usual. Towards Pons, it becomes a

little red, mostly rotten stone. There are vines, corn, and maize, which

is up. At Pons we approach the Clarenton; the country becomes better,

a blackish mould mixed with a rotten chalky stone; a great many vines,

corn, maize, and farouche. From Lajart to Saintes and Rochefort, the

soil is reddish, its foundation a chalky rock, at about a foot depth;

in vines, corn, maize, clover, lucerne, and pasture. There are more and

better trees than I have seen in all my journey; a great many apple and

cherry trees; fine cattle and many sheep. May 30th. From Rochefort to le

Rochex, it is sometimes hilly and red, with a chalky foundation, middling

good; in corn, pasture, and some waste; sometimes it is reclaimed marsh,

in clover and corn, except the parts accessible to the tide, which are

in wild grass. About Rochelle, it is a low plain. Towards Usseau, and

half way to Marans, level highlands, red, mixed with an equal quantity

of broken chalk; mostly in vines, some corn and pasture; then to Marans

and half way to St. Hermines, it is reclaimed marsh, dark, tolerably

good, and all in pasture; there we rise to plains a little higher, red,

with a chalky foundation, boundless to the eye, and altogether in corn

and maize. May 31st. At St. Hermines, the country becomes very hilly, a

red clay mixed with chalky stone, generally waste, in furze and broom,

with some patches of corn and maize; and so it continues to Chantenay,

and St. Fulgent. Through the whole of this road from Bourdeaux, are

frequent hedge rows, and small patches of forest wood, not good, yet

better than I had seen in the preceding part of my journey. Towards

Montaigu, the soil mends a little; the cultivated parts in corn and

pasture, the uncultivated in broom. It is in very small inclosures of

ditch and quickset. On approaching the Loire to Nantes, the country

is leveller; the soil from Rochelle to this place, may be said to have

been sometimes red, but oftener grey, and always on a chalky foundation.

The last census, of about 1770, made one hundred and twenty thousand

inhabitants at Nantes. They conjecture there are now one hundred and

fifty thousand, which equals it to Bourdeaux. June 1st, 2d. The country

from Nantes to L'Orient is very hilly and poor, the soil grey; nearly

half is waste, in furze and broom, among which is some poor grass. The

cultivated parts are in corn, some maize, a good many apple trees; no

vines. All is in small inclosures of quick hedge and ditch. There are

patches and hedge-rows of forest wood, not quite deserving the name of

timber. The people are mostly in villages; they eat rye bread, and are

ragged. The villages announce a general poverty, as does every other

appearance. Women smite on the anvil, and work with the hoe, and cows

are yoked to labor. There are great numbers of cattle, insomuch that

butter is their staple. Neither asses nor mules; yet it is said that

the fine mules I have met with on my journey, are raised in Poictou.

There are but few chateaux here. I observe mill ponds, and hoes with

long handles. Have they not, in common with us, derived these from

England, of which Bretagne is probably a colony? L'Orient is supposed

to contain twenty-five thousand inhabitants. They tell me here, that to

make a reasonable profit on potash and pearl ash, as bought in America,

the former should sell at thirty livres, the latter thirty-six livres

the quintal. Of turpentine they make no use in their vessels. Bayonne

furnishes pitch enough; but tar is in demand, and ours sells well. The

tower of L'Orient is sixty-five pieds above the level of the sea, one

hundred and twenty pieds high, twenty-five pieds in diameter; the stairs

four feet radius, and cost thirty-thousand livres, besides the materials

of the old tower.

June 3d, 4th, 5th. The country and productions from L'Orient to Rennes,

and from Rennes to Nantes, are precisely similar to those from Nantes to

L'Orient. About Rennes, it is somewhat leveller, perhaps less poor, and

almost entirely in pasture. The soil always grey. Some small separate

houses which seem to be the residence of laborers, or very small farmers;

the walls frequently of mud, and the roofs generally covered with slate.

Great plantations of walnut, and frequently of pine. Some apple trees

and sweet briar still in bloom, and broom generally so. I have heard no

nightingale since the last day of May. There are gates in this country

made in such a manner, that the top rail of the gate overshoots backwards

the hind post, so as to counterpoise the gate, and prevent its swagging.

_Nantes._ Vessels of eight feet draught only, can come to Nantes. Those

which are larger, lie at Point Boeuf, ten leagues below Nantes, and five

leagues above the mouth of the river. There is a continued navigation

from Nantes to Paris, through the Loire, the canal de Briare and the

Seine. Carolina rice is preferred to that of Lombardy for the Guinea

trade, because it requires less water to boil it.

June 6th, 7th, 8th. _Nantes._ _Ancenis._ _Angers._ _Tours._ Ascending

the Loire from Nantes, the road, as far as Angers, leads over the hills,

which are grey, oftener below than above mediocrity, and in corn, pasture,

vines, some maize, flax, and hemp. There are no waste lands. About the

limits of Bretagne and Anjou, which are between Loriottiere and St.

George, the lands change for the better. Here and there, we get views

of the plains on the Loire, of some extent, and good appearance, in corn

and pasture. After passing Angers, the road is raised out of the reach of

inundations, so as at the same time, to ward them off from the interior

plains. It passes generally along the river side; but sometimes leads

through the plains, which, after we pass Angers, become extensive and

good, in corn, pasture, some maize, hemp, flax, peas, and beans; many

willows, also poplars and walnuts. The flax is near ripe. Sweet briar in

general bloom. Some broom here still, on which the cattle and sheep browse

in winter and spring, when they have no other green food; and the hogs

eat the blossoms and pods, in spring and summer. This blossom, though

disagreeable when smelt in a small quantity, is of delicious fragrance

when there is a whole field of it. There are some considerable vineyards

in the river plains, just before we reach Les trois volées, (which is at

the one hundred and thirty-sixth mile stone) and after that, where the

hills on the left come into view, they are mostly in vines. Their soil

is clayey and stony, a little reddish, and of southern aspect. The hills

on the other side of the river, looking to the north, are not in vines.

There is very good wine made on these hills; not equal indeed to the

Bourdeaux of best quality, but to that of good quality, and like it. It

is a great article of exportation from Anjou and Touraine, and probably

is sold abroad, under the name of Bourdeaux. They are now mowing the

first crop of hay. All along both hills of the Loire, is a mass of white

stone, not durable, growing black with time, and so soft, that the people

cut their houses out of the solid, with all the partitions, chimnies,

doors, &c. The hill sides resemble cony burrows, full of inhabitants.

The borders of the Loire, are almost a continued village. There are many

chateaux; many cattle, sheep, and horses; some asses.

Tours is at the one hundred and nineteenth mile stone. Being desirous

of inquiring here into a fact stated by Voltaire, in his Questions

Encyclopediques, article Coquilles, relative to the growth of shells

unconnected with animal bodies, at the Château of Monsieur de la

Sauvagiere, near Tours, I called on Monsieur Gentil, premier secretaire

de l'Intendance, to whom the Intendant had written on my behalf, at

the request of the Marquis de Chastellux. I stated to him the fact as

advanced by Voltaire, and found he was, of all men, the best to whom I

could have addressed myself. He told me he had been in correspondence

with Voltaire on that very subject, and was perfectly acquainted with

Monsieur de la Sauvagiere, and the Faluniere where the fact is said to

have taken place. It is at the Château de Grillemont, six leagues from

Tours, on the road to Bourdeaux, belonging now to Monsieur d'Orcai. He

says, that de la Sauvagiere was a man of truth, and might be relied on

for whatever facts he stated as of his own observations; but that he was

overcharged with imagination, which, in matters of opinion and theory,

often led him beyond his facts; that this feature in his character had

appeared principally in what he wrote on the antiquities of Touraine;

but that, as to the fact in question, he believed him. That he himself,

indeed, had not watched the same identical shells, as Sauvagiere had

done, growing from small to great; but that he had often seen such

masses of those shells of all sizes, from a point to a full size, as

to carry conviction to his mind that they were in the act of growing;

that he had once made a collection of shells for the Emperor's cabinet,

reserving duplicates of them for himself; and that these afforded proofs

of the same fact; that he afterwards gave those duplicates to a Monsieur

du Verget, a physician of Tours, of great science and candor, who was

collecting on a larger scale, and who was perfectly in sentiment with

Monsieur de la Sauvagiere, that not only the Faluniere, but many other

places about Tours, would convince any unbiassed observer, that shells

are a fruit of the earth, spontaneously produced; and he gave me a copy

of de la Sauvagiere's Recueil de Dissertations, presented by the author

wherein is one Sur la vegetation spontanée des coquilles du Château des

Places. So far, I repeat from him. What are we to conclude? That we have

not materials enough yet, to form any conclusion. The fact stated by

Sauvagiere is not against any law of nature, and is therefore possible;

but it is so little analogous to her habitual processes, that, if true,

it would be extraordinary; that to command our belief, therefore, there

should be such a suite of observations, as that their untruth would

be more extraordinary than the existence of the fact they affirm. The

bark of trees, the skin of fruits and animals, the feathers of birds,

receive their growth and nutriment from the internal circulation of a

juice through the vessels of the individual they cover. We conclude from

analogy, then, that the shells of the testaceous tribe, receive also

their growth from a like internal circulation. If it be urged, that this

does not exclude the possibility of a like shell being produced by the

passage of a fluid through the pores of the circumjacent body, whether

of earth, stone, or water; I answer, that it is not within the usual

economy of nature, to use two processes for one species of production.

While I withhold my assent, however, from this hypothesis, I must deny

it to every other I have ever seen, by which their authors pretend to

account for the origin of shells in high places. Some of these are against

the laws of nature, and therefore impossible; and others are built on

positions more difficult to assent to, than that of de la Sauvagiere.

They all suppose the shells to have covered submarine animals, and have

then to answer the question, How came they fifteen thousand feet above

the level of the sea? And they answer it, by demanding what cannot be

conceded. One, therefore, who had rather have no opinion than a false

one, will suppose this question one of those beyond the investigation

of human sagacity; or wait till further and fuller observations enable

him to decide it.

_Chanteloup._ I heard a nightingale to-day at Chanteloup. The gardener

says, it is the male who alone sings, while the female sits; and that

when the young are hatched, he also ceases. In the border at Chanteloup,

is an ingenious contrivance to hide the projecting steps of a stair-case.

Three steps were of necessity to project into the boudoir: they are

therefore made triangular steps; and instead of being rested on the

floor, as usual, they are made fast at their broad end to the stair

door, swinging out and in, with that. When it shuts, it runs them under

the other steps; when open, it brings them out to their proper place.

In the kitchen garden, are three pumps, worked by one horse. The pumps

are placed in an equilateral triangle, each side of which is of about

thirty-five feet. In the centre is a post, ten or twelve feet high,

and one foot in diameter. In the top of this, enters the bent end of a

lever, of about twelve or fifteen feet long, with a swingle tree at the

other end. About three feet from the bent end, it receives on a pin,

three horizontal bars of iron, which at their other end lay hold of one

corner of a quadrantal crank (like a bell crank) moving in a vertical

plane, to the other corner of which is hooked the vertical handle of the

pump. The crank turns on its point as a centre, by a pin or pivot passing

through it. The horse moving the lever horizontally in a circle, every

point of the lever describes a horizontal circle. That which receives

the three bars, describes a circle of six feet in diameter. It gives a

stroke then of six feet to the handle of each pump, at each revolution.

_Blois._ _Orleans._ June 9, 10. At Blois, the road leaves the river,

and traverses the hills, which are mostly reddish, sometimes gray, good

enough, in vines, corn, St. foin. From Orleans to the river Juines, at

Estampes, it is a continued plain of corn, and St. foin, tolerably good,

sometimes gray, sometimes red. From Estampes to Estrechy, the country

is mountainous and rocky, resembling that of Fontainebleau. Quære. If

it may not be the same vein?

FOOTNOTE:

[19] It is twenty American miles from Aix to Marseilles,

and they call it five leagues. Their league, then, is of

four American miles.

XII.

_A Tour to some of the Gardens of England._

[Memoranda made on a tour to some of the gardens in England, described

by Whateley in his book on gardening.] While his descriptions, in point

of style, are models of perfect elegance and classical correctness, they

are as remarkable for their exactness. I always walked over the gardens

with his book in my hand, examined with attention the particular spots

he described, found them so justly characterized by him as to be easily

recognized, and saw with wonder, that his fine imagination had never been

able to seduce him from the truth. My inquiries were directed chiefly

to such practical things as might enable me to estimate the expense of

making and maintaining a garden in that style. My journey was in the

months of March and April, 1786.

_Chiswick._--Belongs to Duke of Devonshire. A garden about six acres;--the

octagonal dome has an ill effect, both within and without: the garden

shows still too much of art. An obelisk of very ill effect; another in

the middle of a pond useless.

_Hampton-Court._--Old fashioned. Clipt yews grown wild.

_Twickenham._--Pope's original garden, three and a half acres. Sir Wm.

Stanhope added one and a half acre. This is a long narrow slip, grass and

trees in the middle, walk all round. Now Sir Wellbore Ellis's. Obelisk

at bottom of Pope's garden, as monument to his mother. Inscription, "Ah!

Editha, matrum optima, mulierum amantissima, Vale." The house about thirty

yards from the Thames: the ground shelves gently to the water side; on

the back of the house passes the street, and beyond that the garden.

The grotto is under the street, and goes out level to the water. In the

centre of the garden a mound with a spiral walk round it. A rookery.

_Esher-Place._--The house in a bottom near the river; on the other side

the ground rises pretty much. The road by which we come to the house forms

a dividing line in the middle of the front; on the right are heights,

rising one beyond and above another, with clumps of trees; on the farthest

a temple. A hollow filled up with a clump of trees, the tallest in the

bottom, so that the top is quite flat. On the left the ground descends.

Clumps of trees, the clumps on each hand balance finely--a most lovely

mixture of concave and convex. The garden is of about forty-five acres,

besides the park which joins. Belongs to Lady Frances Pelham.

_Claremont._--Lord Clive's. Nothing remarkable.

_Paynshill._--Mr. Hopkins. Three hundred and twenty-three acres, garden

and park all in one. Well described by Whateley. Grotto said to have

cost £7,000. Whateley says one of the bridges is of stone, but both now

are of wood, the lower sixty feet high: there is too much evergreen. The

dwelling-house built by Hopkins, ill-situated: he has not been there in

five years. He lived there four years while building the present house. It

is not finished; its architecture is incorrect. A Doric temple, beautiful.

_Woburn._--Belongs to Lord Peters. Lord Loughborough is the present tenant

for two lives. Four people to the farm, four to the pleasure garden, four

to the kitchen garden. All are intermixed, the pleasure garden being

merely a highly-ornamented walk through and round the divisions of the

farm and kitchen garden.

_Caversham._--Sold by Lord Cadogan to Major Marsac. Twenty-five acres of

garden, four hundred acres of park, six acres of kitchen garden. A large

lawn, separated by a sunk fence from the garden, appears to be part of

it. A straight, broad gravel walk passes before the front and parallel

to it, terminated on the right by a Doric temple, and opening at the

other end on a fine prospect. This straight walk has an ill effect. The

lawn in front, which is pasture, well disposed with clumps of trees.

_Wotton._--Now belongs to the Marquis of Buckingham, son of George

Grenville. The lake covers fifty acres, the river five acres, the basin

fifteen acres, the little river two acres--equal to seventy-two acres

of water. The lake and great river are on a level, they fall into the

basin five feet below, and that again into the little river five feet

lower. These waters lie in form of an [Illustration]: the house is in

middle of open side, fronting the angle. A walk goes round the whole,

three miles in circumference, and containing within it about three

hundred acres: sometimes it passes close to the water, sometimes so far

off as to leave large pasture grounds between it and the water. But two

hands to keep the pleasure grounds in order; much neglected. The water

affords two thousand brace of carp a year. There is a Palladian bridge,

of which, I think, Whateley does not speak.

_Stowe._--Belongs to the Marquis of Buckingham, son of George Grenville,

and who takes it from Lord Temple. Fifteen men and eighteen boys employed

in keeping pleasure grounds. Within the walk are considerable portions

separated by inclosures and used for pasture. The Egyptian pyramid is

almost entirely taken down by the late Lord Temple, to erect a building

there, in commemoration of Mr. Pitt, but he died before beginning it,

and nothing is done to it yet. The grotto and two rotundas are taken

away. There are four levels of water, receiving it one from the other.

The basin contains seven acres, the lake below that ten acres. Kent's

building is called the temple of Venus. The inclosure is entirely by

ha-ha. At each end of the front line there is a recess like the bastion

of a fort. In one of these is the temple of Friendship, in the other

the temple of Venus. They are seen the one from the other, the line of

sight passing, not through the garden, but through the country parallel

to the line of the garden. This has a good effect. In the approach to

Stowe, you are brought a mile through a straight avenue, pointing to the

Corinthian arch and to the house, till you get to the arch, then you turn

short to the right. The straight approach is very ill. The Corinthian

arch has a very useless appearance, inasmuch as it has no pretension

to any destination. Instead of being an object from the house, it is an

obstacle to a very pleasing distant prospect. The Grecian valley being

clear of trees, while the hill on each side is covered with them, is

much deepened to appearance.

_Leasowes, in Shropshire._--Now the property of Mr. Horne by purchase.

One hundred and fifty acres within the walk. The waters small. This is

not even an ornamented farm--it is only a grazing farm with a path round

it, here and there a seat of board, rarely anything better. Architecture

has contributed nothing. The obelisk is of brick. Shenstone had but three

hundred pounds a year, and ruined himself by what he did to this farm.

It is said that he died of the heart-aches which his debts occasioned

him. The part next the road is of red earth, that on the further part

gray. The first and second cascades are beautiful. The landscape at

number eighteen, and prospect at thirty-two, are fine. The walk through

the wood is umbrageous and pleasing. The whole arch of prospect may be

of ninety degrees. Many of the inscriptions are lost.

_Hagley, now Lord Wescot's._--One thousand acres: no distinction between

park and garden--both blended, but more of the character of garden. Eight

or nine laborers keep it in order. Between two and three hundred deer

in it, some few of them red deer. They breed sometimes with the fallow.

This garden occupying a descending hollow between the Clent and Witchbury

hills, with the spurs from those hills, there is no level in it for a

spacious water. There are, therefore, only some small ponds. From one

of these there is a fine cascade; but it can only be occasionally, by

opening the sluice. This is in a small, dark, deep hollow, with recesses

of stone in the banks on every side. In one of these is a Venus predique,

turned half round as if inviting you with her into the recess. There

is another cascade seen from the portico on the bridge. The castle is

triangular, with a round tower at each angle, one only entire; it seems

to be between forty and fifty feet high. The ponds yield a great deal

of trout. The walks are scarcely gravelled.

_Blenheim._--Twenty-five hundred acres, of which two hundred is garden,

one hundred and fifty water, twelve kitchen garden, and the rest park.

Two hundred people employed to keep it in order, and to make alterations

and additions. About fifty of these employed in pleasure grounds. The

turf is mowed once in ten days. In summer, about two thousand fallow

deer in the park, and two or three thousand sheep. The palace of Henry

II. was remaining till taken down by Sarah, widow of the first Duke of

Marlborough. It was on a round spot levelled by art, near what is now

water, and but a little above it. The island was a part of the high road

leading to the palace. Rosamond's bower was near where is now a little

grove, about two hundred yards from the palace. The well is near where

the bower was. The water here is very beautiful, and very grand. The

cascade from the lake, a fine one; except this the garden has no great

beauties. It is not laid out in fine lawns and woods, but the trees

are scattered thinly over the ground, and every here and there small

thickets of shrubs, in oval raised beds, cultivated, and flowers among

the shrubs. The gravelled walks are broad--art appears too much. There

are but a few seats in it, and nothing of architecture more dignified.

There is no one striking position in it. There has been a great addition

to the length of the river since Whateley wrote.

_Enfield Chase._--One of the four lodges. Garden about sixty acres.

Originally by Lord Chatham, now in the tenure of Dr. Beaver, who married

the daughter of Mr. Sharpe. The lease lately renewed--not in good repair.

The water very fine; would admit of great improvement by extending walks,

&c., to the principal water at the bottom of the lawn.

_Moor Park._--The lawn about thirty acres. A piece of ground up the

hill of six acres. A small lake. Clumps of spruce firs. Surrounded by

walk--separately inclosed--destroys unity. The property of Mr. Rous, who

bought of Sir Thomas Dundas. The building superb; the principal front a

Corinthian portico of four columns; in front of the wings a colonnade,

Ionic, subordinate. Back front a terrace, four Corinthian pilasters.

Pulling down wings of building; removing deer; wants water.

_Kew._--Archimedes' screw for raising water. A horizontal shaft made to

turn the oblique one of the screw by a patent machinery of this form:

[Illustration]

[Illustration: _The pieces separate._]

A is driven by its shank into the horizontal axis of the wheel which

turns the machine.

B is an intermediate iron to connect the motion of A and C.

C is driven by its shank into the axis of the screw.

D is a cross axis, the ends, _a_ and _b_, going into the corresponding

holes _a_ and _b_ of the iron A, and the ends, _c_ and _d_, going into

the corresponding holes _c_ and _d_ of the iron B.

E is another cross axis, the ends, _e_ and _f_, going into the

corresponding holes _e_ and _f_ of the iron B, and the ends, _g_ and

_h_, going into the corresponding holes _g_ and _h_ of the iron C.

XIII.

_Memorandums on a Tour from Paris to Amsterdam, Strasburg, and back to

Paris._--March 3d, 1788.

_Amsterdam._--Joists of houses placed, not with their sides horizontally

and perpendicularly, but diamond wise, thus: [Illustration] first, for

greater strength; second, to arch between with brick, thus: [Illustration]

Windows opening so that they admit air and not rain. The upper

sash opens on a horizontal axis, or pins in the centre of the sides,

the lower sash slides up.

[Illustration: _Windows._]

[Illustration]

Manner of fixing a flag staff on the mast of a vessel: _a_ is the bolt

on which it turns; _b_ a bolt which is taken in and out to fasten it

or to let it down. When taken out, the lower end of the staff is shoved

out of its case, and the upper end being heaviest brings itself down: a

rope must have been previously fastened to the butt end, to pull it down

again when you want to raise the flag end.[Illustration] Dining tables

letting down with single or double leaves, so as to take the room of their

thickness only with a single leaf when open, thus: [Illustration]

or thus:[Illustration] double-leaves open: [Illustration] shut,

thus: [Illustration] or thus: [Illustration] shut: [Illustration]

Peat costs about one doit each, or twelve and a half stivers the hundred.

One hundred make seven cubic feet, and to keep a tolerably comfortable

fire for a study or chamber, takes about six every hour and a half.

A machine for drawing light _empty_ boats over a dam at Amsterdam. It

is an axis in peritrochio fixed on the dam. From the dam each way is

a sloping stage, the boat is presented to this, the rope of the axis

made fast to it, and it is drawn up. The water on one side of the dam

is about four feet higher than on the other.

The camels used for lightening ships over the Pampus will raise the

ships eight feet. There are beams passing through the ship's sides,

projecting to the off side of the camel and resting on it; of course

that alone would keep the camel close to the ship. Besides this, there

are a great number of windlasses on the camels, the ropes of which are

made fast to the gunwale of the ship. The camel is shaped to the ship

on the near side, and straight on the off one. When placed along side,

water is let into it so as nearly to sink it; in this state it receives

the beams, &c., of the ship, and then the water is pumped out.

Wind saw mills. See the plans detailed in the moolen book which I bought.

A circular foundation of brick is raised about three or four feet high,

and covered with a curb or sill of wood, and has little rollers under its

sill which make it turn easily on the curb. A hanging bridge projects at

each end about fifteen or twenty feet beyond the circular area, thus:

[Illustration] horizontally, and thus: [Illustration] in the

profile to increase the play of the timbers on the frame. The wings are

at one side, as at _a_; there is a shelter over the hanging bridges,

but of plank with scarce any frame, very light.

A bridge across a canal formed by two scows, which open each to the

opposite shore and let boats pass.

A lanthern over the street door, which gives light equally into the

antechamber and the street. It is a hexagon, and occupies the place of

the middle pane of glass in the circular top of the street door.

A bridge on a canal, turning on a swivel, by which means it is arranged

along the side of the canal so as not to be in the way of boats when

not in use. When used, it is turned across the canal. It is, of course,

a little more than double the width of the canal.

Hedges of beach, which, not losing the old leaf till the new bud pushes

it off, has the effect of an evergreen as to cover.

Mr. Ameshoff, merchant at Amsterdam. The distribution of his aviary is

worthy of notice. Each kind of the large birds has its coop eight feet

wide and four feet deep; the middle of the front is occupied by a broad

glass window, on one side of which is a door for the keeper to enter at,

and on the other a little trap-door for the birds to pass in and out.

The floor strewed with clean hay. Before each coop is a court of eight by

sixteen feet, with wire in front and netting above, if the fowls be able

to fly. For such as require it, there are bushes of evergreen growing in

their court for them to lay their eggs under. The coops are frequently

divided into two stories: the upper for those birds which perch, such as

pigeons, &c., the lower for those which feed on the ground, as pheasants,

partridges, &c. The court is in common for both stories, because the

birds do no injury to each other. For the water-fowl there is a pond of

water passing through the courts, with a movable separation. While they

are breeding they must be separate, afterwards they may come together.

The small birds are some of them in a common aviary, and some in cages.

The Dutch wheel-barrow is in this form: [Illustration] which is very

convenient for loading and unloading.

Mr. Hermen Hend Damen, merchant-broker of Amsterdam, tells me that the

emigrants to America come from the Palatinate down the Rhine, and take

shipping from Amsterdam. Their passage is ten guineas if paid here, and

eleven if paid in America. He says they might be had in any number to

go to America, and settle lands as tenants on half stocks or metairies.

Perhaps they would serve their employer one year as an indemnification

for the passage, and then be bound to remain on his lands seven years.

They would come to Amsterdam at their own expense. He thinks they would

employ more than fifty acres each; but _quære_, especially if they have

fifty acres for their wife also?

_Hodson._--The best house. Stadhonderian, his son, in the government.

Friendly, but old and very infirm.

_Hope._--The first house in Amsterdam. His first object England; but

it is supposed he would like to have the American business also, yet he

would probably make our affairs subordinate to those of England.

_Vollenhoven._--An excellent old house; connected with no party.

_Sapportus._--A brother, very honest and ingenuous, well-disposed; acts

for Hope, but will say with truth what he can do for us. The best person

to consult with as to the best house to undertake a piece of business. He

has brothers in London in business. Jacob Van Staphorst tells me there

are about fourteen millions of florins, new money, placed in loans in

Holland every year, being the savings of individuals out of their annual

revenue, &c. Besides this, there are every year reimbursements of old

loans from some quarter or other to be replaced at interest in some new

loan.

1788. March 16th. Baron Steuben has been generally suspected of having

suggested the first idea of the self-styled Order of Cincinnati. But Mr.

Adams tells me, that in the year 1776 he had called at a tavern in the

State of New York to dine, just at the moment when the British army was

landing at Frog's Neck. Generals Washington, Lee, Knox and Parsons, came

to the same tavern. He got into conversation with Knox. They talked of

ancient history--of Fabius, who used to raise the Romans from the dust;

of the present contest, &c.; and General Knox, in the course of the

conversation, said he should wish for some ribbon to wear in his hat,

or in his button hole, to be transmitted to his descendants as a badge

and a proof that he had fought in defence of their liberties. He spoke

of it in such precise terms, as showed he had revolved it in his mind

before. Mr. Adams says he and Knox were standing together in the door of

the tavern, and does not recollect whether General Washington and the

others were near enough to hear the conversation, or were even in the

room at that moment. Baron Steuben did not arrive in America till above

a year after that. Mr. Adams is now fifty-three years old, _i. e._ nine

years more than I am.

[Illustration: HOPE'S HOUSE, NEAR HARLAEM.]

It is said this house will cost four tons of silver, or forty thousand

pounds sterling. The separation between the middle building and wings

in the upper story has a capricious appearance, yet a pleasing one. The

right wing of the house (which is the left in the plan) extends back to

a great length, so as to make the ground plan in the form of an L. The

parapet has a pannel of wall, and a pannel of ballusters alternately,

which lighten it. There is no portico, the columns being backed against

the wall of the front.

March 30th, 31st. _Amsterdam._ _Utrecht._ _Nimeguen._ The lower parts

of the low countries seem partly to have been gained from the sea, and

partly to be made up of the plains of the Yssel, the Rhine, the Maese

and the Schelde united. To Utrecht nothing but plains are seen, a rich

black mould, wet, lower than the level of the waters which intersect

it; almost entirely in grass; few or no farm-houses, as the business of

grazing requires few laborers. The canal is lined with country houses,

which bespeak the wealth and cleanliness of the country; but generally

in an uncouth state, and exhibiting no regular architecture. After

passing Utrecht, the hills north-east of the Rhine come into view, and

gather in towards the river, till at Wyck Dursted they are within three

or four miles, and at Amelengen they join the river. The plains, after

passing Utrecht, become more sandy; the hills are very poor and sandy,

generally waste in broom, sometimes a little corn. The plains are in

corn, grass, and willow. The plantations of the latter are immense, and

give it the air of an uncultivated country. There are now few châteaux;

farm-houses abound, built generally of brick, and covered with tile or

thatch. There are some apple-trees, but no forest; a few inclosures of

willow wattling. In the gardens are hedges of beach, one foot apart,

which, not losing its old leaves till they are pushed off in the spring

by the young ones, gives the shelter of evergreens. The Rhine is here

about three hundred yards wide, and the road to Nimeguen passing it a

little below Wattelingen, leaves Hetern in sight on the left. On this

side, the plains of the Rhine, the Ling, and the Waal unite. The Rhine

and Waal are crossed on vibrating boats, the rope supported by a line of

seven little barks. The platform by which you go on to the ferry-boat

is supported by boats. The view from the hill at Cress is sublime. It

commands the Waal, and extends far up the Rhine. That also up and down

the Waal from the Bellevue of Nimeguen, is very fine. The château here

is pretended to have lodged Julius Cæsar. This is giving it an antiquity

of at least eighteen centuries, which must be apocryphal. Some few sheep

to-day, which were feeding in turnip patches.

April 1st. _Cranenburg._ _Cleves._ _Santen._ _Reynberg._ _Hoogstraat._

The transition from ease and opulence to extreme poverty is remarkable

on crossing the line between the Dutch and Prussian territories. The

soil and climate are the same; the governments alone differ. With the

poverty, the fear also of slaves is visible in the faces of the Prussian

subjects. There is an improvement, however, in the physiognomy, especially

could it be a little brightened up. The road leads generally over the

hills, but sometimes through skirts of the plains of the Rhine. These

are always extensive and good. They want manure, being visibly worn

down. The hills are almost always sandy, barren, uncultivated, and

insusceptible of culture, covered with broom and moss; here and there

a little indifferent forest, which is sometimes of beach. The plains

are principally in corn; some grass and willow. There are no châteaux,

nor houses that bespeak the existence even of a middle class. Universal

and equal poverty overspreads the whole. In the villages, too, which

seem to be falling down, the over-proportion of women is evident. The

cultivators seem to live on their farms. The farm-houses are of mud,

the better sort of brick; all covered over with thatch. Cleves is little

more than a village. If there are shops or magazines of merchandise in

it, they show little. Here and there at a window some small articles

are hung up within the glass. The goose-berry beginning to leaf.

April 2d. Passed the Rhine at _Essenberg_. It is there about a quarter of

a mile wide, or five hundred yards. It is crossed in a scow with sails.

The wind being on the quarter, we were eight or ten minutes only in the

passage. Duysberg is but a village in fact, walled in; the buildings

mostly of brick. No new ones, which indicate a thriving state. I had

understood that near that were remains of the encampment of Varus, in

which he and his legions fell by the arms of Arminius (in the time of

Tiberius I think it was), but there was not a person to be found in

Duysberg who could understand either English, French, Italian, or Latin.

So I could make no inquiry.

From _Duysberg_ to _Dusseldorf_ the road leads sometimes over the hills,

sometimes through the plains of the Rhine, the quality of which are as

before described. On the hills, however, are considerable groves of oak,

of spontaneous growth, which seem to be of more than a century; but the

soil being barren, the trees, though high, are crooked and knotty. The

undergrowth is broom and moss. In the plains is corn entirely. As they

are become rather sandy for grass, there are no inclosures on the Rhine

at all. The houses are poor and ruinous, mostly of brick, and scantling

mixed. A good deal of grape cultivated.

_Dusseldorf._ The gallery of paintings is sublime, particularly the

room of Vanderwerff. The plains from Dusseldorf to Cologne are much more

extensive, and go off in barren downs at some distance from the river.

These downs extend far, according to appearance. They are manuring the

plains with lime. A gate at the Elector's château on this road in this

form. We cross at Cologne on a pendulum boat. I observe the hog of this

country (Westphalia), of which the celebrated ham is made, is tall,

gaunt, and with heavy lop ears. Fatted at a year old, would weigh one

hundred or one hundred and twenty pounds. At two years old, two hundred

pounds. Their principal food is acorns. The pork, fresh, sells at two

and a half pence sterling the pound. The hams, ready made, at eight

and a half pence sterling the pound. One hundred and six pounds of this

country is equal to one hundred pounds of Holland. About four pounds of

fine Holland salt is put on one hundred pounds of pork. It is smoked in

a room which has no chimney. Well-informed people here tell me there is

no other part of the world where the bacon is smoked. They do not know

that we do it. Cologne is the principal market of exportation. They find

that the small hog makes the sweetest meat.

[Illustration]

_Cologne_ is a sovereign city, having no territory out of its walls. It

contains about sixty thousand inhabitants; appears to have much commerce,

and to abound with poor. Its commerce is principally in the hands of

Protestants, of whom there are about sixty houses in the city. They are

extremely restricted in their operations, and otherwise oppressed in every

form by the government, which is Catholic, and excessively intolerant.

Their Senate, some time ago, by a majority of twenty-two to eighteen,

allowed them to have a church; but it is believed this privilege will

be revoked. There are about two hundred and fifty Catholic churches in

the city. The Rhine is here about four hundred yards wide. This city

is in 51° latitude, wanting about 6´. Here the vines begin, and it is

the most northern spot on the earth on which wine is made. Their first

grapes came from Orleans, since that from Alsace, Champagne, &c. It is

thirty-two years only since the first vines were sent from Cassel, near

Mayence, to the Cape of Good Hope, of which the Cape wine is now made.

Afterwards new supplies were sent from the same quarter. That I suppose

is the most southern spot on the globe where wine is made, and it is

singular that the same vine should have furnished two wines as much

opposed to each other in quality as in situation. I was addressed here

by Mr. Damen, of Amsterdam, to Mr. Jean Jaques Peuchen, of this place,

Merchant.

April 4th. _Cologne._ _Bonne._ _Andernach._ _Coblentz._ I saw many

walnut trees to-day in the open fields. It would seem as if this tree

and wine required the same climate. The soil begins now to be reddish,

both on the hills and in the plains. Those from Cologne to Bonne extend

about three miles from the river on each side; but a little above Bonne

they become contracted, and continue from thence to be from one mile to

nothing, comprehending both sides of the river. They are in corn, some

clover and rape, and many vines. These are planted in rows three feet

apart both ways. The vine is left about six or eight feet high, and

stuck with poles ten or twelve feet high. To these poles they are tied

in two places, at the height of about two and four feet. They are now

performing this operation. The hills are generally excessively steep, a

great proportion of them barren; the rest in vines principally, sometimes

small patches of corn. In the plains, though rich, I observed they dung

their vines plentifully; and it is observed here, as elsewhere, that the

plains yield much wine, but bad. The good is furnished from the hills.

The walnut, willow, and apple tree beginning to leaf.

_Andernach_ is the port on the Rhine to which the famous mill-stones of

Cologne are brought; the quarry, as some say, being at Mendich, three

or four leagues from thence. I suppose they have been called Cologne

mill-stones, because the merchants of that place having the most extensive

correspondence, have usually sent them to all parts of the world. I

observed great collections of them at Cologne. This is one account.

April 5. _Coblentz._ _Nassau._ Another account is, that these stones

are cut at Triers and brought down the Moselle. I could not learn the

price of them at the quarry; but I was shown a grind-stone of the same

stone, five feet diameter, which cost at Triers six florins. It was of

but half the thickness of a mill-stone. I supposed, therefore, that two

mill-stones would cost about as much as three of these grind-stones,

_i. e._ about a guinea and a half. This country abounds with slate.

The best Moselle wines are made about fifteen leagues from hence, in

an excessively mountainous country. The first quality (without any

comparison) is that made on the mountain of Brownberg, adjoining to the

village of Dusmond; and the best crops is that of the Baron Breidbach

Burrhesheim, grand chambellan et grand Baillif de Coblentz. His Receveur,

of the name of Mayer, lives at Dusmond. The last fine year was 1783, which

sells now at fifty louis the foudre, which contains six aumes of one

hundred and seventy bottles each, equal about one thousand one hundred

and ten bottles. This is about twenty-two sous Tournois the bottle. In

general, the Baron Burrhesheim's crops will sell as soon as made, say at

the vintage, for one hundred and thirty, one hundred and forty, and one

hundred and fifty ecus the foudre (the ecu is one and a half florin of

Holland), say two hundred. 2. Vialen is the second quality, and sells

new at one hundred and twenty ecus the foudre. 3. Crach-Bispost is the

third, and sells for about one hundred and five ecus. I compared Crach

of 1783 with Baron Burrhesheim's of the same year. The latter is quite

clear of acid, stronger, and very sensibly the best. 4. Selting, which

sells at one hundred ecus. 5. Kous-Berncastle, the fifth quality, sells

at eighty or ninety. After this there is a gradation of qualities down

to thirty ecus. These wines must be five or six years old before they

are quite ripe for drinking. One thousand plants yield a foudre of wine

a year in the most plentiful vineyards. In other vineyards, it will take

two thousand or two thousand and five hundred plants to yield a foudre.

The culture of one thousand plants costs about one louis a year. A day's

labor of a man is paid in winter twenty kreitzers (_i. e._ one-third of

a florin), in summer twenty-six; a woman's is half that. The red wines

of this country are very indifferent, and will not keep. The Moselle is

here from one hundred to two hundred yards wide; the Rhine three hundred

to four hundred. A jessamine in the Count de Moustier's garden in leaf.

In the Elector of Treves' palace at _Coblentz_, are large rooms very

well warmed by warm air conveyed from an oven below, through tubes which

open into the rooms. An oil and vinegar cruet in this form: [Illustration]

At Coblentz we pass the river on a pendulum boat, and the road to Nassau

is over tremendous hills, on which is here and there a little corn, more

vines, but mostly barren. In some of these barrens are forests of beach

and oak, tolerably large, but crooked and knotty; the undergrowth beach

brush, broom, and moss. The soil of the plains, and of the hills where

they are cultivable, is reddish. Nassau is a village the whole rents of

which should not amount to more than a hundred or two guineas. Yet it

gives the title of Prince to the house of Orange to which it belongs.

April 6th. _Nassau._ _Schwelbach._ _Wisbaden._ _Hocheim._ _Frankfort._

The road from Nassau to Schwelbach is over hills, or rather mountains,

both high and steep; always poor, and above half of them barren in beach

and oak. At Schwelbach there is some chesnut. The other parts are either

in winter grain, or preparing for that of the spring. Between Schwelbach

and Wisbaden we come in sight of the plains of the Rhine, which are very

extensive. From hence the lands, both high and low, are very fine, in

corn, vines, and fruit trees. The country has the appearance of wealth,

especially in the approach to Frankfort.

April 7th. _Frankfort._ Among the poultry, I have seen no turkies in

Germany till I arrive at this place. The Stork, or Crane, is very commonly

tame here. It is a miserable, dirty, ill-looking bird. The Lutheran is

the reigning religion here, and is equally intolerant to the Catholic

and Calvinist, excluding them from the free corps.

[Illustration]

April 8th. _Frankfort._ _Hanau._ The road goes through the plains of the

Maine, which are mulatto, and very fine. They are well cultivated till

you pass the line between the republic and the landgraviate of Hesse,

when you immediately see the effect of the difference of government,

notwithstanding the tendency which the neighborhood of such a commercial

town as Frankfort has to counteract the effects of tyranny in its

vicinities, and to animate them in spite of oppression. In Frankfort

all is life, bustle, and motion; in Hanau the silence and quiet of the

mansions of the dead. Nobody is seen moving in the streets; every door

is shut; no sound of the saw, the hammer, or other utensil of industry.

The drum and fife is all that is heard. The streets are cleaner than a

German floor, because nobody passes them. At Williamsbath, near Hanau,

is a country seat of the Landgrave. There is a ruin which is clever.

It presents the remains of an old castle. The ground plan is in this

form: [Illustration] The upper story in this: [Illustration] A circular

room of thirty-one and a half feet diameter within. The four little square

towers at the corners finish at the floor of the upper story, so as to

be only platforms to walk out on. Over the circular room is a platform

also, which is covered by the broken parapet which once crowned the top,

but is now fallen off some parts, whilst the other parts remain. I like

better, however, the form of the ruin at Hagley, in England, which was

thus a centry box here, covered over with bark, so as to look exactly

like the trunk of an old tree. This is a good idea; and may be of much

avail in a garden. There is a hermitage in which is a good figure of

a hermit in plaster, colored to the life, with a table and book before

him, in the attitude of reading and contemplation. In a little cell is

his bed; in another his books, some tools, &c.; in another his little

provision of firewood, &c. There is a monument erected to the son of

the present landgrave, in the form of a pyramid, the base of which is

eighteen and a half feet. The side declines from the perpendicular about

twenty-one and a half degrees. An arch is carried through it both ways so

as present a door in each side. In the middle of this, at the crossing

of the two arches, is a marble monument with this inscription: "ante

tempus." He died at twelve years of age. Between Hanau and Frankfort, in

sight of the road, is the village of Bergen, where was fought the battle

of Bergen in the war before last. Things worth noting here are: 1. A

folding ladder. 2. Manner of packing china cups and saucers, the former

in a circle within the latter. 3. The marks of different manufactures

of china, to wit: Dresden with two swords. Hecks with a wheel with

[Illustration], Frankendaal with [Illustration] (for Charles Theodore),

and a [Illustration] over it. Berlin with 4. The top rail of a wagon

supported by the washers on the ends of the axle-trees.

April 10th. _Frankfort._ _Hocheim._ _Mayence._ The little tyrants round

about having disarmed their people, and made it very criminal to kill

game, one knows when they quit the territory of Frankfort by the quantity

of game which is seen. In the Republic, everybody being allowed to be

armed, and to hunt on their own lands, there is very little game left

in its territory. The hog hereabouts resembles extremely the little hog

of Virginia. Round like that, a small head, and short upright ears. This

makes the ham of Mayence so much esteemed at Paris.

We cross the Rhine at Mayence on a bridge one thousand eight hundred and

forty feet long, supported by forty-seven boats. It is not in a direct

line, but curved up against the stream; which may strengthen it if the

difference between the upper and lower curve be sensible, if the planks

of the floor be thick, well jointed together, and forming sectors of

circles, so as to act on the whole as the stones of an arch. But it has

by no means this appearance. Near one end, one of the boats has an axis

in peritrochio, and a chain, by which it may be let drop down stream

some distance, with the portion of the floor belonging to it, so as

to let a vessel through. Then it is wound up again into place, and to

consolidate it the more with the adjoining parts, the loose section is

a little higher, and has at each end a folding stage, which folds back

on it when it moves down, and when brought up again into place, these

stages are folded over on the bridge. This whole operation takes but

four or five minutes. In the winter the bridge is taken away entirely,

on account of the ice. And then everything passes on the ice through

the whole winter.

April 11th. _Mayence._ _Rudesheim._ _Johansberg._ _Markebronn._ The women

do everything here. They dig the earth, plough, saw, cut and split wood,

row, tow the batteaux, &c. In a small but dull kind of batteau, with two

hands rowing with a kind of large paddle, and a square sail, but scarcely

a breath of wind, we went down the river at the rate of five miles an

hour, making it three and a half hours to Rudesheim. The floats of wood

which go with the current only, go one mile and a half an hour. They

go night and day. There are five boat-mills abreast here. Their floats

seem to be about eight feet broad. The Rhine yields salmon, carp, pike,

and perch, and the little rivers running into it yield speckled trout.

The plains from Maintz to Rudesheim are good and in corn; the hills

mostly in vines. The banks of the river are so low that, standing up in

the batteau, I could generally see what was in the plains. Yet they are

seldom overflowed.

[Illustration: A TOWER AT RUDESHEIM.]

Though they begin to make wine, as has been said, at Cologne, and continue

it up the river indefinitely, yet it is only from Rudesheim to Hocheim

that wines of the very first quality are made. The river happens there to

run due east and west, so as to give its hills on that side a southern

aspect. And even in this canton, it is only Hocheim, Johansberg, and

Rudesheim, that are considered as of the very first quality. Johansberg

is a little mountain (berg signifies mountain), whereon is a religious

house, about fifteen miles below Mayence, and near the village of Vingel.

It has a southern aspect, the soil a barren mulatto clay, mixed with a

good deal of stone, and some slate. This wine used to be but on a par

with Hocheim and Rudesheim; but the place having come to the Bishop of

Fulda, he improved its culture so as to render it stronger; and since

the year 1775, it sells at double the price of the other two. It has

none of the acid of the Hocheim and other Rhenish wines. There are about

sixty tons made in a good year, which sell, as soon as of a drinkable

age, at one thousand franks each. The tun here contains seven and a-half

aumes of one hundred and seventy bottles each. Rudesheim is a village of

about eighteen or twenty miles below Mayence. Its fine wines are made on

the hills about a mile below the village, which look to the south, and

on the middle and lower parts of them. They are terraced. The soil is

gray, about one-half of slate and rotten stone, the other half of barren

clay, excessively steep. Just behind the village also is a little spot,

called Hinder House, belonging to the Counts of Sicken and Oschstein,

whereon each makes about a ton of wine of the very first quality. This

spot extends from the bottom to the top of the hill. The vignerons of

Rudesheim dung their wines about once in five or six years, putting a

one-horse tumbrel load of dung on every twelve feet square. One thousand

plants yield about four aumes in a good year. The best crops are,

The Chanoines of Mayence, who make 15 pieces of 7½ aumes.

Le Comte de Sicken 6 " "

Le Comte d'Oschstein 9 " "

L'Electeur de Mayence 6 " "

Le Comte de Meternisch 6 " "

Monsieur de Boze 5 " "

M. Ackerman, baliff et aubergiste des 3

couronnes 8 " "

M. Ackerman le fils, aubergiste à la

couronne 5 " "

M. Lynn, aubergiste de l'ange 5 " "

Baron de Wetzel 7 " "

Convent de Mariahousen, des religieuses

Benedictines 7 " "

M. Johan Yung 8 " "

M. de Rieden 5 " "

--

92

These wines begin to be drinkable at about five years old. The proprietors

sell them old or young, according to the prices offered, and according

to their own want of money. There is always a little difference between

different casks, and therefore when you choose and buy a single cask,

you pay three, four, five or six hundred florins for it. They are not

at all acid, and to my taste much preferable to Hocheim, though but of

the same price. Hocheim is a village about three miles above Mayence,

on the Maine, where it empties into the Rhine. The spot whereon the

good wine is made is the hill side from the church down to the plain,

a gentle slope of about a quarter of a mile wide, and extending half a

mile towards Mayence. It is of south-western aspect, very poor, sometimes

gray, sometimes mulatto, with a moderate mixture of small broken stone.

The wines are planted three feet apart, and stuck with sticks about six

feet high. The wine, too, is cut at that height. They are dunged once in

three or four years. One thousand plants yield from one to two aumes a

year: they begin to yield a little at three years old, and continue to

one hundred years, unless sooner killed by a cold winter. Dick, keeper

of the Rothen-house tavern at Frankfort, a great wine merchant, who has

between three and four hundred tons of wine in his cellars, tells me

that Hocheim of the year 1783, sold, as soon as it was made, at ninety

florins the aume, Rudesheim of the same year, as soon as made, at one

hundred and fifteen florins, and Markebronn seventy florins. But a peasant

of Hocheim tells me that the best crops of Hocheim in the good years,

when sold new, sell but for about thirty-two or thirty-three florins

the aume; but that it is only the poorer proprietors who sell new. The

fine crops are,

Count Ingleheim about 10 tuns. }

Baron d'Alberg 8 " } All of these keep till

Count Schimbon 14 " } about fifteen years old,

The Chanoines of Mayence 18 " } before they sell, unless

Counsellor Schik de Vetsler 15 " } they are offered a very

Convent of Jacobsberg 8 " } good price sooner.

The Chanoine of Fechbach 10 " }

The Carmelites of Frankfort 8 " { Who only sell by the bottle

{ in their own tavern in

{ Frankfort.

The Bailiff of Hocheim 11 " Who sells at three or four

years old.

Zimmerman, a bourgeois 4 " } These being poor, sell new.

Feldman, a carpenter 2 " }

Markebronn (bronn signifies a spring, and is probably of affinity with

the Scotch word, burn) is a little canton in the same range of hills,

adjoining to the village of Hagenheim, about three miles above Johansberg,

subject to the elector of Mayence. It is a sloping hill side of southern

aspect, mulatto, poor, and mixed with some stone. This yields wine of

the second quality.

April 12th. _Mayence._ _Oppenheim._ _Dorms._ _Manheim._ On the road

between Mayence and Oppenheim are three cantons, which are also esteemed

as yielding wines of the second quality. These are Laudenheim, Bodenheim,

and Nierstein. Laudenheim is a village about four or five miles from

Mayence. Its wines are made on a steep hill side, the soil of which

is gray, poor and mixed with some stone. The river there happens to

make a short turn to the south-west, so as to present its hills to the

south-east. Bodenheim is a village nine miles, and Nierstein another about

ten or eleven miles from Mayence. Here, too, the river is north-east and

south-west, so as to give the hills between these villages a south-east

aspect; and at Thierstein, a valley making off, brings the face of the

hill round to the south. The hills between these villages are almost

perpendicular, of a vermilion red, very poor, and having as much rotten

stone as earth. It is to be observed that these are the only cantons

on the south side of the river which yield good wine, the hills on this

side being generally exposed to the cold winds, and turned from the sun.

The annexed bill of prices current, will give an idea of the estimation

of these wines respectively.

With respect to the grapes in this country, there are three kinds in

use for making white wine, (for I take no notice of the red wines, as

being absolutely worthless.) 1. The Klemperien, of which the inferior

qualities of Rhenish wines are made, and is cultivated because of its

hardness. The wines of this grape descend as low as one hundred florins

the tun of eight aumes. 2. The Rhysslin grape, which grows only from

Hocheim down to Rudesheim. This is small and delicate, and therefore

succeeds only in this chosen spot. Even at Rudesheim it yields a fine

wine only in the little spot called Hinder House, before mentioned; the

mass of good wines made at Rudesheim, below the village, being of the

third kind of grape, which is called the Orleans grape.

To Oppenheim the plains of the Rhine and Maine are united. From that

place we see the commencement of the Bergstrasse, or mountains which

separate at first the plains of the Rhine and Maine, then cross the

Neckar at Heidelberg, and from thence forms the separation between the

plains of the Neckar and Rhine, leaving those of the Rhine about ten or

twelve miles wide. These plains are sometimes black, sometimes mulatto,

always rich. They are in corn, potatoes, and some willow. On the other

side again, that is, on the west side, the hills keep at first close to

the river. They are about one hundred and fifty, or two hundred feet

high, sloping, red, good, and mostly in vines. Above Oppenheim, they

begin to go off till they join the mountains of Lorraine and Alsace,

which separate the waters of the Moselle and Rhine, leaving to the whole

valley of the Rhine about twenty or twenty-five miles breadth. About

Worms these plains are sandy, poor, and often covered only with small

pine.

April 13th. _Manheim._ There is a bridge over the Rhine here, supported

on thirty-nine boats, and one over the Neckar on eleven boats. The

bridge over the Rhine is twenty-one and a half feet wide from rail to

rail. The boats are four feet deep, fifty-two feet long, and nine feet

eight inches broad. The space between boat and boat is eighteen feet ten

inches. From these data the length of the bridge should be 9ft. 8in. +

18ft. 10in. × 40 = 1140 feet. In order to let vessels pass through, two

boats well framed together, with their flooring, are made to fall down

stream together. Here, too, they make good ham. It is fattened on round

potatoes and Indian corn. The farmers smoke what is for their own use

in their chimneys. When it is made for sale, and in greater quantities

than the chimney will hold, they make the smoke of the chimney pass into

an adjoining loft, or apartment, from which it has no issue; and here

they hang their hams.

[Illustration]

An economical curtain bedstead. The bedstead is seven feet by four feet

two inches. From each leg there goes up an iron rod three-eighths of an

inch in diameter. Those from the legs at the foot of the bed meeting at

top as in the margin, and those from the head meeting in like manner, so

that the two at the foot form one point, and the two at the head another.

On these points lays an oval iron rod, whose long diameter is five feet,

and short one three feet one inch. There is a hole through this rod at

each end, by which it goes on firm on the point of the upright rods.

Then a nut screws it down firmly. Ten breadths of stuff two feet ten

inches wide, and eight feet six inches long, form the curtains. There

is no top nor vallons. The rings are fastened within two and a half or

three inches of the top on the inside, which two and a half or three

inches stand up, and are an ornament somewhat like a ruffle.

I have observed all along the Rhine that they make the oxen draw by the

horns. A pair of very handsome chariot horses, large, bay, and seven years

old, sell for fifty louis. One pound of beef sells for eight kreitzers,

(_i. e._ eight sixtieths of a florin;) one pound of mutton or veal, six

kreitzers; one pound of pork, seven and a half kreitzers; one pound of

ham, twelve kreitzers; one pound of fine wheat bread, two kreitzers;

one pound of butter, twenty kreitzers; one hundred and sixty pounds of

wheat, six francs; one hundred and sixty pounds of maize, five francs; one

hundred and sixty pounds of potatoes, one franc; one hundred pounds of

hay, one franc; a cord of wood (which is 4 4 and 6 feet), seven francs;

a laborer by the day receives twenty-four kreitzers, and feeds himself.

A journee or arpent of land (which is eight by two hundred steps), such

as the middling plains of the Rhine, will sell for two hundred francs.

There are more soldiers here than other inhabitants, to wit: six thousand

soldiers and four thousand males of full age of the citizens, the whole

number of whom is reckoned at twenty thousand.

April 14th. _Manheim._ _Dossenheim._ _Heidelberg._ _Schwetzingen Manheim._

The elector placed, in 1768, two males and five females of the Angora

goat at Dossenheim, which is at the foot of the Bergstrasse mountains.

He sold twenty-five last year, and has now seventy. They are removed

into the mountains four leagues beyond Dossenheim. Heidelberg is on the

Neckar just where it issues from the Bergstrasse mountains, occupying

the first skirt of plain which it forms. The château is up the hill

a considerable height. The gardens lie above the château, climbing up

the mountain in terraces. This château is the most noble ruin I have

ever seen, having been reduced to that state by the French in the time

of Louis XIV., 1693. Nothing remains under cover but the chapel. The

situation is romantic and pleasing beyond expression. It is on a great

scale much like the situation of Petrarch's château, at Vaucluse, on a

small one. The climate, too, is like that of Italy. The apple, the pear,

cherry, peach, apricot, and almond, are all in bloom. There is a station

in the garden to which the château re-echoes distinctly four syllables.

The famous ton of Heidelberg was new built in 1751, and made to contain

thirty foudres more than the ancient one. It is said to contain two

hundred and thirty-six foudres of one thousand two hundred bottles each.

I measured it, and found its length external to be twenty-eight feet ten

inches; its diameter at the end twenty feet three inches; the thickness

of the staves seven and a half inches; thickness of the hoops seven

and a half inches; besides a great deal of external framing. There is

no wine in it now. The gardens at Schwetzingen show how much money may

be laid out to make an ugly thing. What is called the English quarter,

however, relieves the eye from the straight rows of trees, round and

square basins, which constitute the great mass of the garden. There are

some tolerable morsels of Grecian architecture, and a good ruin. The

Aviary, too, is clever. It consists of cells of about eight feet wide,

arranged round, and looking into a circular area of about forty or fifty

feet diameter. The cells have doors both of wire and glass, and have

small shrubs in them. The plains of the Rhine on this side are twelve

miles wide, bounded by the Bergstrasse mountains. These appear to be

eight hundred or a thousand feet high; the lower part in vines, from

which is made what is called the vin de Nichar; the upper in chesnut.

There are some cultivated spots however, quite to the top. The plains

are generally mulatto, in corn principally; they are planting potatoes

in some parts, and leaving others open for maize and tobacco. Many peach

and other fruit trees on the lower part of the mountain. The paths on

some parts of these mountains are somewhat in the style represented in

the margin.

[Illustration]

_Manheim._ _Kaeferthal._ _Manheim._ Just beyond Kaeferthal is an

extensive, sandy waste, planted in pine, in which the elector has about

two hundred sangliers, tamed. I saw about fifty; the heavies I am told,

would weigh about three hundred pounds. They are fed on round potatoes,

and range in the forest of pines. At the village of Kaeferthal is a

plantation of rhubarb, begun in 1769 by a private company. It contains

twenty arpens or jourries, and its culture costs about four or five

hundred francs a year; it sometimes employs forty or fifty laborers

at a time. The best age to sell the rhubarb at is the fifth or sixth

year, but the sale being dull, they keep it sometimes to the tenth year;

they find it best to let it remain in the ground. They sell about two

hundred kentals a year at two or three francs a pound, and could sell

double that quantity from the ground if they could find a market. The

apothecaries of Francfort and of England are the principal buyers. It

is in beds, resembling lettice-beds; the plants four, five or six feet

apart. When dug, a thread is passed through every piece of root, and it

is hung separate in a kind of rack; when dry it is rasped; what comes

off is given to the cattle.

April 15. _Manheim._ _Spire._ _Carlsruhe._ The valley preserves its

width, extending on each side of the river about ten or twelve miles,

but the soil loses much in its quality, becoming sandy and lean, often

barren and overgrown with pine thicket. At Spire is nothing remarkable.

Between that and Carlsruhe we pass the Rhine in a common skow with oars,

where it is between three and four hundred yards wide. Carlsruhe is the

residence of the Margrave of Baden, a sovereign prince. His château is

built in the midst of a natural forest of several leagues diameter, and

of the best trees I have seen in these countries: they are mostly oak,

and would be deemed but indifferent in America. A great deal of money

has been spent to do more harm than good to the ground--cutting a number

of straight allies through the forest. He has a pheasantry of the gold

and silver kind, the latter very tame, but the former excessively shy.

A little inclosure of stone, two and a half feet high and thirty feet

diameter, in which are two tamed beavers. There is a pond of fifteen

feet diameter in the centre, and at each end a little cell for them to

retire into, which is stowed with boughs and twigs with leaves on them,

which is their principal food. They eat bread also;--twice a week the

water is changed. They cannot get over this wall Some cerfs of a peculiar

kind, spotted like fawns, the horns remarkably long, small and sharp,

with few points. I am not sure there were more than two to each main

beam, and if I saw distinctly, there came out a separate and subordinate

beam from the root of each. Eight angora goats--beautiful animals--all

white. This town is only an appendage of the château, and but a moderate

one. It is a league from Durlach, half way between that and the river.

I observe they twist the flues of their stoves in any form for ornament

merely, without smoking, as thus, _e. g._

[Illustration]

April 16. _Carlsruhe._ _Rastadt._ _Scholhoven._ _Bischofheim._ _Kehl._

_Strasburg._ The valley of the Rhine still preserves its breadth, but

varies in quality; sometimes a rich mulatto loam, sometimes a poor sand,

covered with small pine. The culture is generally corn. It is to be

noted, that through the whole of my route through the Netherlands and

the valley of the Rhine, there is a little red clover every here and

there, and a great deal of grape cultivated. The seed of this is sold

to be made into oil. The grape is now in blossom. No inclosures. The

fruit trees are generally blossoming through the whole valley. The high

mountains of the Bergstrasse, as also of Alsace, are covered with snow.

Within this day or two, the every-day dress of the country women here is

black. Rastadt is a seat also of the Margrave of Baden. Scholhoven and

Kehl are in his territory, but not Bischofheim. I see no beggars since

I entered his government, nor is the traveller obliged to ransom himself

every moment by a chausiee gold. The roads are excellent, and made so, I

presume, out of the coffers of the prince. From Cleves till I enter the

Margravate of Baden, the roads have been strung with beggars--in Hesse

the most, and the road tax very heavy. We pay it cheerfully, however,

through the territory of Francfort and thence up the Rhine, because

fine gravelled roads are kept up; but through the Prussian, and other

parts of the road below Francfort, the roads are only as made by the

carriages, there not appearing to have been ever a day's work employed

on them. At Strasburgh we pass the Rhine on a wooden bridge.

At _Brussels and Antwerp_, the fuel is pit-coal, dug in Brabant. Through

all Holland it is turf. From Cleves to Cologne it is pit-coal brought

from England. They burn it in open stoves. From thence it is wood, burnt

in close stoves, till you get to Strasburg, where the open chimney comes

again into use.

April 16th, 17th, 18th. _Strasburg._ The vin de paille is made in the

neighborhood of Colmar, in Alsace, about ---- from this place. It takes

its name from the circumstance of spreading the grapes on straw, where

they are preserved till spring, and then made into wine. The little juice

then remaining in them makes a rich sweet wine, but the dearest in the

world, without being the best by any means. They charge nine florins the

bottle for it in the taverns of Strasburg. It is the caprice of wealth

alone which continues so losing an operation. This wine is sought because

dear; while the better wine of Frontignan is rarely seen at a good table

because it is cheap.

_Strasburg._ _Saverne._ _Phalsbourg._ As far as Saverne the country is

in waiving hills and hollows; red, rich enough; mostly in small grain,

but some vines; a little stone. From Saverne to Phalsbourg we cross a

considerable mountain, which takes an hour to rise it.

[Illustration: Fig.1]

[Illustration: Fig.2]

April 19th. _Phalsbourg._ _Fenestrange._ _Moyenvic._ _Nancy._ Asparagus

to-day at Moyenvic. The country is always either mountainous or hilly;

red, tolerably good, and in small grain. On the hills about Fenestrange,

Moyenvic, and Nancy, are some small vineyards where a bad wine is made.

No inclosures. Some good sheep, indifferent cattle, and small horses. The

most forest I have seen in France, principally of beech, pretty large.

The houses, as in Germany, are of scantling, filled in with wicker and

mortar, and covered either with thatch or tiles. The people, too, here

as there, are gathered in villages. Oxen plough here with collars and

hames. The awkward figure of their mould-board leads one to consider what

should be its form. The offices of the mould-board are to receive the sod

after the share has cut under it, to raise it gradually, and to reverse

it. The fore-end of it then, should be horizontal to enter under the sod,

and the hind end perpendicular to throw it over; the intermediate surface

changing gradually from the horizontal to the perpendicular It should

be as wide as the furrow, and of a length suited to the construction of

the plough. The following would seem a good method of making it: Take

a block, whose length, breadth and thickness, is that of your intended

mould-board, suppose two and a half feet long and eight inches broad

and thick. Draw the lines _a d_ and _c d_, figure 1, with a saw, the

toothed edge of which is straight, enter at _a_ and cut on, guiding the

hind part of the saw on the line _a b_, and the fore part on the line

_a d_, till the saw reaches the points _c_ and _d_, then enter it at _c_

and cut on, guiding it by the lines _c b_ and _c d_ till it reaches the

points _b_ and _d_. The quarter, _a b c d_, will then be completely cut

out, and the diagonal from _d_ to _b_ laid bare. The piece may now be

represented as in figure 2. Then saw in transversely at every two inches

till the saw reaches the line _c e_, and the diagonal _b d_, and cut out

the pieces with an adze. The upper surface will thus be formed. With a

gauge opened to eight inches, and guided by the lines _c e_, scribe the

upper edge of the board from _d b_, cut that edge perpendicular to the

face of the board, and scribe it of the proper thickness. Then form the

underside by the upper, by cutting transversely with the saw and taking

out the piece with an adze. As the upper edge of the wing of the share

rises a little, the fore end of the board, _b c_, will rise as much

from a strict horizontal position, and will throw the hind end, _e d_,

exactly as much beyond the perpendicular, so as to promote the reversing

of the sod. The women here, as in Germany, do all sorts of work. While

one considers them as useful and rational companions, one cannot forget

that they are also objects of our pleasures; nor can they ever forget

it. While employed in dirt and drudgery, some tag of a ribbon, some ring,

or bit of bracelet, earbob or necklace, or something of that kind, will

show that the desire of pleasing is never suspended in them. It is an

honorable circumstance for man, that the first moment he is at his ease,

he allots the internal employments to his female partner, and takes the

external on himself. And this circumstance, or its reverse, is a pretty

good indication that a people are, or are not at their ease. Among the

Indians, this indication fails from a particular cause: every Indian

man is a soldier or warrior, and the whole body of warriors constitute

a standing army, always employed in war or hunting. To support that

army, there remain no laborers but the women. Here, then, is so heavy a

military establishment, that the civil part of the nation is reduced to

women only. But this is a barbarous perversion of the natural destination

of the two sexes. Women are formed by nature for attentions, not for

hard labor. A woman never forgets one of the numerous train of little

offices which belong to her. A man forgets often.

April 20th. _Nancy._ _Toule._ _Void._ _Ligny en Barrois._ _Bar le Duc._

_St. Dizier._ Nancy itself is a neat little town, and its environs very

agreeable. The valley of the little branch of the Moselle, on which it

is, is about a mile wide: the road then crossing the head-waters of the

Moselle, the Maes, and the Marne, the country is very hilly, and perhaps

a third of it poor and in forests of beech: the other two-thirds from

poor up to middling, red, and stony. Almost entirely in corn, now and

then only some vines on the hills. The Moselle at Toule is thirty or

forty yards wide: the Maese near Void about half that: the Marne at St.

Dizier about forty yards. They all make good plains of from a quarter

of a mile to a mile wide. The hills of the Maese abound with chalk.

The rocks coming down from the tops of the hills, on all the road of

this day, at regular intervals like the ribs of an animal, have a very

irregular appearance. Considerable flocks of sheep and asses, and, in

the approach to St. Dizier, great plantations of apple and cherry trees;

here and there a peach tree, all in general bloom. The roads through

Lorraine are strung with beggars.

April 21st. _St. Dizier._ _Vitry le Français._ _Chalons sur Marne._

_Epernay._ The plains of the Marne and Sault uniting, appear boundless

to the eye till we approach their confluence at Vitry, where the hills

come in on the right; after that the plains are generally about a mile,

mulatto, of middling quality, sometimes stony. Sometimes the ground goes

off from the river so sloping, that one does not know whether to call it

high or low land. The hills are mulatto also, but whitish, occasioned by

the quantity of chalk which seems to constitute their universal base.

They are poor, and principally in vines. The streams of water are of

the color of milk, occasioned by the chalk also. No inclosures, some

flocks of sheep; children gathering dung in the roads. Here and there

a château; but none considerable.

April 22d. _Epernay._ The hills abound with chalk. Of this they make

lime, not so strong as stone lime, and therefore to be used in greater

proportion. They cut the blocks into regular forms also, like stone, and

build houses of it. The common earth too, well impregnated with this,

is made into mortar, moulded in the form of brick, dried in the sun,

and houses built of them which last one hundred or two hundred years.

The plains here are a mile wide, red, good, in corn, clover, Luzerne,

St. Foin. The hills are in vines, and this being precisely the canton

where the most celebrated wines of Champagne are made, details must be

entered into. Remember, however, that they will always relate to the

white wines, unless where the red are expressly mentioned. The reason

is that their red wines, though much esteemed on the spot, are by no

means esteemed elsewhere equally with their white; nor do they merit

equal esteem.

A Topographical sketch of the position of the wine villages, the course

of the hills, and consequently the aspect of the vine-yards.

_Soil_, meagre, mulatto clay, mixed with small broken stone, and a little

hue of chalk. Very dry.

[Illustration]

_Aspect_, may be better seen by the annexed diagram. The wine of Aij

is made from _a_ to _b_, those of Dizij from _b_ to _c_, Auvillij _d_

to _e_, Cumieres _e_ to _f_, Epernay _g_ to _h_, Perij _i_ to _k_. The

hills are generally about two hundred and fifty feet high. The good wine

is made only in the middle region. The lower region, however, is better

than the upper; because this last is exposed to cold winds, and a colder

atmosphere.

_Culture._ The vines are planted two feet apart. Afterwards they are

multiplied (provignés). When a stock puts out two shoots they lay them

down, spread them open and cover them with earth, so as to have in the

end about a plant for every square foot. For performing this operation

they have a hook, of this shape, [Illustration] and nine inches long,

which, being stuck in the ground, holds down the main stock, while the

laborer separates and covers the new shoot. They leave two buds above

the ground. When the vine has shot up high enough, they stick it with

split sticks of oak, from an inch to an inch and a half square, and four

feet long, and tie the vine to its stick with straw. These sticks cost

two florins the hundred, and will last forty years. An arpent, one year

with another, in the fine vineyards, gives twelve pieces, and in the

inferior vineyards twenty-five pieces, of two hundred bottles each. An

arpent of the first quality sells for three thousand florins, and there

have been instances of seven thousand two hundred florins. The arpent

contains one hundred verges, of twenty-two pieds square. The arpent of

inferior quality sells at one thousand florins. They plant the vines in

a hole about a foot deep, and fill that hole with good mould, to make

the plant take. Otherwise it would perish. Afterwards, if ever they put

dung, it is very little. During wheat harvest there is a month or six

weeks that nothing is done in the vine-yard, that is to say, from the

1st of August to the beginning of vintage. The vintage commences early

in September, and lasts a month. A day's work of a laborer in the busiest

season is twenty sous, and he feeds himself: in the least busy season it

is fifteen sous. Corn lands are rented from four florins to twenty-four;

but vine lands are never rented. The three façons (or workings) of an

arpent cost fifteen florins. The whole year's expense of an arpent is

worth one hundred florins.

_Grapes._--The bulk of their grapes are purple, which they prefer for

making even white wine. They press them very lightly, without treading or

permitting them to ferment at all, for about an hour; so that it is the

beginning of the running only which makes the bright wine. What follows

the beginning is of a straw color, and therefore not placed on a level

with the first. The last part of the juice, produced by strong pressure,

is red and ordinary. They choose the bunches with as much care, to make

wine of the very first quality, as if to eat. Not above one-eighth of

the whole grapes will do for this purpose. The white grape, though not so

fine for wine as the red, when the red can be produced, and more liable

to rot in a moist season, yet grows better if the soil be excessively

poor, and therefore in such a soil is preferred, or rather, is used of

necessity, because there the red would not grow at all.

_Wine._--The white wines are either mousseux, sparkling, or non-mousseux,

still. The sparkling are little drunk in France, but are almost alone

known and drunk in foreign countries. This makes so great a demand, and

so certain a one, that it is the dearest by about an eighth, and therefore

they endeavor to make all sparkling if they can. This is done by bottling

in the spring, from the beginning of March till June. If it succeeds,

they lose abundance of bottles, from one-tenth to one-third. This is

another cause increasing the price. To make the still wine, they bottle

in September. This is only done when they know from some circumstance

that the wine will not be sparkling. So if the spring bottling fails to

make a sparkling wine, they decant it into other bottles in the fall,

and it then makes the very best still wine. In this operation, it loses

from one-tenth to one-twentieth by sediment. They let it stand in the

bottles in this case forty-eight hours, with only a napkin spread over

their mouths, but no cork. The best sparkling wine, decanted in this

manner, makes the best still wine, and which will keep much longer than

that originally made still by being bottled in September. The sparkling

wines lose their briskness the older they are, but they gain in quality

with age to a certain length. These wines are in perfection from two to

ten years old, and will even be very good to fifteen. 1766 was the best

year ever known. 1775 and 1776 next to that. 1783 is the last good year,

and that not to be compared with those. These wines stand icing very well.

_Aij._ M. Dorsay makes one thousand and one hundred pieces, which

sell, as soon as made, at three hundred florins, and in good years four

hundred florins, in the cask. I paid in his cellar, to M. Louis, his

homme d'affaires, for the remains of the year 1783, three florins ten

sous the bottle. Sparkling Champagne, of the same degree of excellence,

would have cost four florins, (the piece and demiqueue are the same;

the feuillette is one hundred bottles.) M. le Duc makes four hundred to

five hundred pieces. M. de Villermont, three hundred pieces. M. Janson,

two hundred and fifty pieces. All of the first quality, red and white

in equal quantities.

_Auvillaij._ The Benedictine monks make one thousand pieces, red and

white, but three-fourths red, both of the first quality. The king's

table is supplied by them. This enables them to sell at five hundred

and fifty florins the piece. Though their white is hardly as good as

Dorsay's, their red is the best. L'Abbatiale, belonging to the bishop of

the place, makes one thousand to twelve hundred pieces, red and white,

three-fourths red, at four hundred to five hundred and fifty florins,

because neighbors to the monks.

_Cumieres_ is all of the second quality, both red and white, at one

hundred and fifty to two hundred florins the piece.

_Epernay._ Madame Jermont makes two hundred pieces at three hundred

florins. M. Patelaine, one hundred and fifty pieces. M. Mare, two

hundred pieces. M. Chertems, sixty pieces. M. Lauchay, fifty pieces. M.

Cousin (Aubergiste de l'hôtel de Róhan à Epernay), one hundred pieces.

M. Pierrot, one hundred pieces. Les Chanoines regulieres d'Epernay, two

hundred pieces. Mesdames les Ursulines religieuses, one hundred pieces.

M. Gilette, two hundred pieces. All of the first quality; red and white

in equal quantities.

_Pierrij._ M. Casotte makes five hundred pieces. M. de la Motte, three

hundred pieces. M. de Failli, three hundred pieces. I tasted his wine of

1779, one of the good years. It was fine, though not equal to that of M.

Dorsay, of 1783. He sells it at two florins ten sous to merchants, and

three florins to individuals. Les Seminaristes, one hundred and fifty

pieces. M. Hoquart, two hundred pieces. All of the first quality; white

and red in equal quantities.

At Cramont, also, there are some wines of the first quality made. At

Avisi also, and Aucy, Le Meni, Mareuil, Verzis-Verzenni. This last place

belongs to the Marquis de Sillery. The wines are carried to Sillery, and

there stored, whence they are called Vins de Sillery, though not made

at Sillery.

All these wines of Epernay and Pierrij sell almost as dear as M. Dorsay's,

their quality being nearly the same. There are many small proprietors who

might make wine of the first quality, if they would cull their grapes,

but they are too poor for this. Therefore, the proprietors before named,

whose names are established, buy of the poorer ones the right to cull

their vineyards, by which means they increase their quantity, as they

find about one-third of the grapes will make wines of the first quality.

The lowest-priced wines of all are thirty florins the piece, red or

white. They make brandy of the pumice. In very bad years, when their

wines become vinegar, they are sold for six florins the piece, and made

into brandy. They yield one-tenth brandy.

White Champagne is deemed good in proportion as it is silky and still.

Many circumstances derange the scale of wines. The proprietor of the best

vineyard, in the best year, having bad weather come upon him while he is

gathering his grapes, makes a bad wine, while his neighbor, holding a more

indifferent vineyard, which happens to be ingathering while the weather

is good, makes a better. The M. de Casotte at Pierrij formerly was the

first house. His successors, by some imperceptible change of culture,

have degraded the quality of their wines. Their cellars are admirably

made, being about six, eight or ten feet wide, vaulted, and extending

into the ground, in a kind of labyrinth, to a prodigious distance, with

an air-hole of two feet diameter every fifty feet. From the top of the

vault to the surface of the earth, is from fifteen to thirty feet. I

have nowhere seen cellars comparable to these. In packing their bottles,

they lay on their side; then cross them at each end, they lay laths, and

on these another row of bottles, heads and points; and so on. By this

means, they can take out a bottle from the top, or where they will.

April 23d. _Epernay._ _Château Thieray._ _St. Jean._ _Meaux._ _Vergalant._

_Paris._ From Epernay to St. Jean the road leads over hills, which in

the beginning are indifferent, but get better towards the last. The

plains, wherever seen, are inconsiderable. After passing St. Jean, the

hills become good, and the plains increase. The country about Vergalant

is pretty. A skirt of a low ridge which runs in on the extensive plains

of the Marne and Seine, is very picturesque. The general bloom of fruit

trees proves there are more of them than I had imagined from travelling

in other seasons, when they are less distinguishable at a distance from

the forest trees.

XIV.

_Travelling notes for Mr. Rutledge and Mr. Shippen, June 3, 1788._

_General Observations._--On arriving at a town, the first thing is to

buy the plan of the town, and the book noting its curiosities. Walk

round the ramparts when there are any, go the top of a steeple to have

a view of the town and its environs.

When you are doubting whether a thing is worth the trouble of going to

see, recollect that you will never again be so near it, that you may

repent the not having seen it, but can never repent having seen it.

But there is an opposite extreme too, that is, the seeing too much. A

judicious selection is to be aimed at, taking care that the indolence

of the moment have no influence in the decision. Take care particularly

not to let the porters of churches, cabinets, &c., lead you through all

the little details of their profession, which will load the memory with

trifles, fatigue the attention, and waste that and your time. It is

difficult to confine these people to the few objects worth seeing and

remembering. They wish for your money, and suppose you give it the more

willingly the more they detail to you.

When one calls in the taverns for the _vin du pays_, they give what

is natural and unadulterated and cheap: when _vin etrangere_ is called

for, it only gives a pretext for charging an extravagant price for an

unwholesome stuff, very often of their own brewery. The people you will

naturally see the most of will be tavern keepers, _valets de place_, and

postilions. These are the hackneyed rascals of every country. Of course

they must never be considered when we calculate the national character.

_Objects of attention for an American._--1. Agriculture. Everything

belonging to this art, and whatever has a near relation to it. Useful

or agreeable animals which might be transported to America. Species of

plants for the farmer's garden, according to the climate of the different

States.

2. Mechanical arts, so far as they respect things necessary in America,

and inconvenient to be transported thither ready-made, such as forges,

stone quarries, boats, bridges, (very especially,) &c., &c.

3. Lighter mechanical arts, and manufactures. Some of these will be

worth a superficial view; but circumstances rendering it impossible that

America should become a manufacturing country during the time of any man

now living, it would be a waste of attention to examine these minutely.

4. Gardens, peculiarly worth the attention of an American, because it is

the country of all others where the noblest gardens may be made without

expense. We have only to cut out the superabundant plants.

5. Architecture worth great attention. As we double our numbers every

twenty years, we must double our houses. Besides, we build of such

perishable materials, that one half of our houses must be rebuilt in

every space of twenty years, so that in that time, houses are to be

built for three-fourths of our inhabitants. It is, then, among the most

important arts; and it is desirable to introduce taste into an art which

shows so much.

6. Painting. Statuary. Too expensive for the state of wealth among us. It

would be useless, therefore, and preposterous, for us to make ourselves

connoisseurs in those arts. They are worth seeing, but not studying.

7. Politics of each country, well worth studying so far as respects

internal affairs. Examine their influence on the happiness of the people.

Take every possible occasion for entering into the houses of the laborers,

and especially at the moments of their repast; see what they eat, how

they are clothed, whether they are obliged to work too hard; whether

the government or their landlord takes from them an unjust proportion

of their labor; on what footing stands the property they call their own,

their personal liberty, &c., &c.

8. Courts. To be seen as you would see the tower of London or menagerie

of Versailles, with their lions, tigers, hyenas, and other beast of prey,

standing in the same relation to their fellows. A slight acquaintance

with them will suffice to show you that, under the most imposing exterior,

they are the weakest and worst part of mankind. Their manners, could you

ape them, would not make you beloved in your own country, nor would they

improve it could you introduce them there to the exclusion of that honest

simplicity now prevailing in America, and worthy of being cherished.

XV.

_Queries as to the rights and duties of the United States under her

treaties with France, and the laws of neutrality._

1st. Do the treaties between the United States and France give to France

or her citizens a _right_, when at war with a power with whom the United

States are at peace, to fit out originally and from the ports of the

United States, vessels armed for war with or without commission?

2d. If they give such a right, does it extend to all manner of armed

vessels, or to particular kinds only? If the latter, to what kinds does

it extend?

3d. Do they give to France or her citizens, in the case supposed, a right

to refit, or arm anew vessels, which, before their coming within any

port of the United States, were armed for war with or without commission?

The Writings of Thomas Jefferson, Vol. 9 (of 9) Being His Autobiography, Correspondence, Reports, Messages, Addresses, and Other Writings, Official and Private · 第 56 / 60 章