[Illustration:
Wageman del. E. Finden sc.
JAMES HOLMAN, R.N.-F.R.S.
“_Total eclipse! nor Sun, nor Moon;_
_All dark amidst the blaze of noon._”]
THE
Narrative
OF
A JOURNEY,
UNDERTAKEN
IN THE YEARS 1819, 1820, & 1821,
THROUGH
FRANCE, ITALY, SAVOY, SWITZERLAND,
PARTS OF GERMANY BORDERING ON THE RHINE,
HOLLAND, AND THE NETHERLANDS;
COMPRISING
INCIDENTS
THAT OCCURRED TO THE AUTHOR, WHO HAS LONG SUFFERED UNDER A
TOTAL DEPRIVATION OF SIGHT;
_With various points of Information collected on his Tour_.
BY JAMES HOLMAN, R. N. & K. W.
“Cæcus iter monstrare velit: tamen aspice si quid
Et nos, quod cures proprium fecisse, loquamur.” HOR.
_FOURTH EDITION._
LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY G. B. WHITTAKER, AVE MARIA LANE.
1825.
THE
Dedication.
TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS AUGUSTA.
MADAM,
_If there be any one circumstance peculiarly gratifying to myself, as the
Author of the present Narrative, it is the permission I have received to
dedicate it to your Royal Highness._
_The kind manner in which this honour has been conferred, cannot fail to
increase the value of the boon, and strengthen the ties of gratitude by
which I felt bound to your Royal Highness, for the flattering notice, and
important favours, you had previously been pleased to bestow upon me._
_I beg to assure your Royal Highness, that it will ever be the proudest
feeling of my heart, that my very humble production should have been
ushered into public notice, under the auspices of a Patroness, whose
exalted virtues have secured her universal esteem and respect, and made
her the admiration of that sex, of which she is the distinguished and
presiding ornament._
_With every sentiment of devotion, I am_,
MADAM,
_Your Royal Highness’s_
_Much obliged and very obedient Servant_,
JAMES HOLMAN.
PREFACE.
The very peculiar circumstances under which the Author professes to
obtrude the present volume upon public notice, appear to require some
explanation, were it only to obviate suspicions which might arise,
that the general detail of circumstances which it comprises, has been
the production of an active imagination, rather than a relation of the
occurrences of real life; for he is fully aware, that such a construction
might be put upon the apparent anomaly of the travels of one, whose loss
of sight, a source of information naturally considered indispensable
in such an undertaking, must greatly limit his power of acquiring the
legitimate materials, necessary to give his work body and consistency.
On this account, it may not be superfluous, to enter upon a brief history
of his misfortune, as introductory to an explanation of the motives which
have influenced him in bringing forward the present publication.
Destined to the naval service of his country, his exclusive attention,
for some years, was devoted to the attainment of that professional
knowledge, which he hoped might lead to honourable distinction; how
far these views were likely to have been crowned with success, it will
now be useless to state; it is sufficient to say, that at the age of
twenty-five, while in the very bloom of expectation, his prospects were
irrecoverably blighted by the effects of an illness, resulting from his
professional duties, and which left him deprived of all the advantages of
“heavens prime decree,”—wholly—and, he fears, permanently blind.
“Total eclipse! nor sun; nor moon;
All dark amidst the blaze of noon.”
After the distressing feelings which accompanied the first shock of this
bodily privation, had in some measure subsided, the active mind began
to seek occupation and amusement, amongst the many resources which a
beneficent Providence had still left uncurtailed. These he has happily
found, not only abundant, but apparently inexhaustible; and the lapse of
ten years, has not merely softened down the sense of misfortune, but even
reconciled him to an affliction, which some view as the severest that can
befal humanity.
“⸺though sight be lost,
Life yet hath many solaces, enjoyed
Where other senses want not their delights.”
Amongst the various pursuits which have served to cheer, and sooth him
throughout this protracted day of darkness, the book of nature has been
largely opened to his mental view; nor has he failed to cultivate the
pleasing fields of literature; and he may exclaim with our admired poet,
when he so pathetically bewails the loss of this most precious organ:
“So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs,
Or dim suffusion veiled; yet not the more
Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill.”
In time he began to acquire greater facility of locomotion than he could
have anticipated, and which was succeeded by an almost irresistible
inclination to visit different parts of his native country, in quest of
knowledge or amusement; notwithstanding the limited information, which it
may be imagined he would thus derive, he found the impressions produced,
afford him not only present, but permanent gratification. To some, this
may appear incredible; it must, however, not be forgotten, that the loss
of one sense, is uniformly compensated by superior powers of those that
remain unimpaired, in consequence of their being more called into action;
and it is well known, that the sense of touch, in particular, acquires
so great a delicacy, as to afford degrees of information, which under
ordinary states it is incapable of: besides this advantage, he acquired
an undefinable power, almost resembling instinct, which he believes in a
lively manner gives him ideas of whatever may be going forward externally.
In the year 1819, his health having for some time suffered from causes
which it is unnecessary to mention, the Author became assured that
nothing would tend more to re-establish it, than a visit to the highly
favoured clime of the southern parts of Europe: while at the same time,
and which was, perhaps, paramount to all other considerations, he would
be gratifying his desire of obtaining information; he therefore, with
this double view, determined to undertake the journey which forms the
subject of the present pages;—and is happy to say, that in neither of
these objects has he met with disappointment.
It may be more difficult to assign satisfactory reasons, for laying
before his readers the various incidents which befel him, in this pursuit
of health and occupation; for he is not vain enough to imagine, that they
could feel interested in his acquisition of the one, or participate with
him in the enjoyment of the other.
The compilation was, in the first instance, entered upon as a matter
of employment and selfish pleasure. None but those who have travelled
through countries, and amidst circumstances novel to them, can appreciate
the delight experienced from recalling in this way the interesting
points of an interesting journey, and fighting as it were, their battles
over again. On shewing a portion of the notes thus collected to his
friends, their too kind partiality (for such he fears it has been)
induced them to think that if published, they might not prove wholly
unacceptable to the public, and their solicitations and assurances at
length determined him to adopt their suggestions.
The Author will not profess to be ignorant of the presumptuous nature of
his attempt; or unconscious of the numerous deficiencies and inaccuracies
with which his work abounds; many of these are necessarily attributable
to the disadvantages under which he has laboured; his very outset
was amidst unfavourable circumstances, as he was then almost wholly
unacquainted with that language, which could alone enable him to acquire
the information he was seeking for: this must be his apology for the
want of observation and incident, which are more particularly manifest
throughout the first months of his residence in France.
The want of vision must frequently make his observations and
descriptions imperfect; to compensate for this, he has availed himself
of such intelligence as he could derive from others; and, for the same
reasons, has introduced a variety of extracts from interesting authors,
which appeared desirable to elucidate or enliven his narrative.
He rests his chief hope of the approbation of the public, upon having
given a plain and faithful statement of a journey, which must be regarded
as possessing a degree of originality, arising from the peculiar
circumstances under which it was accomplished.
He now concludes his prefatory matter, by soliciting the indulgence of
his readers, and entreating them not to criticise with too much severity,
a work which, he trusts, has some claims upon their forbearance; and
which, if it happens to repay their perusal by any pleasurable emotion,
or to excite a kind sympathy for his own situation, will have answered
the fullest expectation of its author.
Windsor, May 1st, 1822.
THE NARRATIVE, _&c._
CHAP. I.
DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND, AND JOURNEY TO PARIS.
My friends expressed considerable surprise, when I announced my
actual determination to undertake a continental tour, and I believe
many of them, to the last moment, were inclined to doubt whether I
seriously intended it; they did not fail to question how I proposed,
with my personal defects, to make progress through a strange country,
unaccompanied by even a servant to assist and protect me, and with an
almost total ignorance of the languages of the various people I was about
to visit. I urged in reply, that the experience of more than twenty
years, during which I had been, as it were, a citizen of the world,
and a great part of which had been spent in foreign climes, would be
sufficient to direct me through the common occurrences and incidents, to
which the traveller is exposed; that for the rest, I was content to leave
it to God, upon whose protection, in the midst of dangers, I had the
most implicit reliance, and under whose providential guidance, I doubted
not to attain the completion of the various objects of my journey,
remembering, as Cowper happily expresses it, that
“To reach the distant coast,
The breath of Heaven must swell the sail,
Or all our toil is lost.”
It may be difficult to say, under what description of traveller I
proposed to class myself. Sterne enumerates the following species of
the wandering tribe. “Idle travellers; inquisitive travellers; lying
travellers; proud travellers; vain travellers; splenetic travellers;
travellers of necessity; the delinquent and felonious traveller; the
unfortunate and innocent traveller; the simple traveller; and last of all
(if you please), the sentimental traveller.” Now I do not think any of
these titles strictly applicable to myself; I shall not, however, attempt
to determine the point, but leave it to the courteous reader to apply
that which he may consider most appropriate.
I reached Dover on the evening of the 14th of October, 1819, and on the
following morning embarked with a fair wind for Calais. This day is the
more remarkable to me, as being, in addition to the present incident, the
anniversary of my birth, as well as the same day of the year in which,
after my loss of sight, I first set out for Edinburgh, to commence a
course of studies at that celebrated university. In little more than
three hours we arrived off the harbour of Calais, when the tide not
answering for our making the pier, a boat came out for the mail, and I
availed myself of the opportunity of going on shore; for this earlier
accommodation I was charged five francs, a sum nearly equal to half the
fare across the channel.
Behold me, then, in France! surrounded by a people, to me, strange,
invisible, and incomprehensible; separated from every living being who
could be supposed to take the least interest in my welfare, or even
existence; and exposed to all the influence of national prejudice, which
is said to prompt this people to take every advantage of their English
neighbours. To counteract these disadvantages, I had nothing but the
common feelings of humanity, assisted by the once boasted _politesse_ of
the great nation, and which might be expected to operate in favour of an
afflicted stranger.
My commencement however proved auspicious, for I found an English
_valet-de-place_, or _commissionaire_, on the pier, who assisted me
through the ceremonials of the Custom-house, where they did me the favour
to take two francs as a remuneration for their trouble in inspecting my
luggage. He then conducted me to the Grand Cerf Hotel; and after I had
taken refreshment, went with me to facilitate my inquiries respecting
the diligences to Paris, for which place I proposed setting off on the
following morning. After this, we extended our walk through the town, and
visited the ramparts and banks of the canal to St. Omer.
On returning to the Hotel, I partook for the first time of a French
dinner; and, the commissionaire having left me, had the advantage of
being waited upon by Paul the _garçon_, who did not understand one word
of English; I had no little difficulty in getting through the routine
of this important repast. Afterward I repeated my walk through the
town, and on my return was surprised to learn that a person had been
enquiring for me. It proved to be the waiter of the Hotel where I had
breakfasted at Dover, who had crossed the channel in pursuit of a French
gentleman who had taken his breakfast at the same table with me, and
whom a friend of mine had endeavoured to interest in my favour. This
gentleman had received from the waiter a ten pound note in exchange
instead of a smaller one, and the latter was anxious to recover his lost
property. I was sorry that I could give him no satisfactory information,
for notwithstanding he had promised to shew me all possible attention
before leaving Dover, and even regretted he could not give me a place
in his carriage to Paris, he kept himself quite aloof after getting on
shipboard, so that in short I heard no more of him.
In the evening Virginie, the _fille de chambre_, attended to put me to
bed, and appeared literally to have expected to assist in the various
operations of disrobing, &c. I was, however, enabled, through the medium
of the commissionaire, to assure her, that it was quite unnecessary to
give her that trouble. So, dismissing my attendants with the candle, I
secured the door, and retired to rest.
In the morning I arose early, and inhaled the fresh breeze upon the pier,
a wooden structure, which extends itself for a considerable distance into
the sea. At the extremity near the town, is a pillar, erected by the
loyal people of Calais, in commemoration of the landing of Louis XVIII.
immediately after the first subjection of Napoleon, and near to it a
brass plate, with the figure of a foot cast in it, fixed upon the very
spot where this monarch first trod the French ground, after so long an
absence from his _affectionate_ subjects.
Breakfast was scarcely concluded, when it became necessary to take my
place in the diligence for Paris; I occupied a seat in the cabriolet,
which, in this coach, was unusually large, being sufficiently commodious
to accommodate six persons, and where I had the pleasure of finding two
of my countrymen, each with a son, proceeding to some school near Paris.
It may be worth while to mention, that upon the information of my
commissionaire, I had paid forty-five francs for my fare. This was indeed
the regular charge, but I have found, by taking advantage of certain
opposition carriages, the expense might have been materially lessened.
One of my companions, in fact, had bargained for forty francs for himself
and his son; and the other had secured his two places for thirty-five
only.
The usual hour for the departure of the diligence was ten o’clock; but we
anticipated this time, and set out at half-past nine, in consequence of
its being a fête day, when the gates of the town are closed from ten till
noon, during the performance of high mass.
About two o’clock we reached Boulogne, where we dined, and took into
our vacant place a journeyman bootmaker, who was going to Paris. We now
proceeded without stopping, except to change horses, until midnight, when
we reached Abbeville. On arriving at this place, the passengers in the
body of the coach, which, cumbrous as it was, had but two wheels, hastily
and unexpectedly jumping out, without apprising the cabriolet, the whole
weight of ourselves and the carriage was thrown forward, to such excess,
upon the backs of the horses, that, unable to sustain the pressure, they
sunk under it, and were with difficulty raised again.
We were at this place thankful for a refreshment of cold meat and wine,
as we had tasted nothing since leaving Boulogne, except some sour apples,
which our young gentlemen had knocked down on the sides of the road;
it was necessary, however, to disturb three or four houses before we
succeeded in procuring it.
The morning gave us “token of a goodly day.” At eleven o’clock we halted
for breakfast at Beauvais, and were apprised that an excellent one, _a la
fourchette_, was prepared at the hotel where our carriage rested; but the
party agreeing to give the preference to coffee, the bootmaker offered to
conduct us where we should get it both good and cheap. We consented to
follow him, and were regaled with a large bowl of coffee, with as much
milk, sugar, and toasted bread, as we pleased; for which they charged us
at the extraordinary rate of five sous per head.
At noon we pursued our journey, and at seven in the evening arrived at
Paris. When the business of the coach was arranged, the conducteur walked
with me to the Hotel de Suede, near the Palais-Royal, to which I had been
recommended.
CHAP. II.
PARIS.
While supper was in preparation, I walked to the Rue de la Paix, to call
upon a lady whom I had known in England, and was at first surprised to
learn, it being Sunday evening, that she was gone to a ball; but it is
the custom in France to participate in amusements on Sunday more than
on any other day in the week. It rejoiced me, however, to know, that my
friend was in Paris.
At supper, the _maitre d’hotel_, a Swede, but acquainted with the English
language, waited upon me himself, and enumerated with such encomiums
his fine stock of wine, that I could do no less than order a bottle of
Burgundy, which I found deliciously refreshing; and thought it economical
enough, as it was charged only two francs.
In consequence of the fatigue which I had experienced on my journey, I
was glad to retire early to bed. On entering my chamber, I could not
but be impressed by its cold comfortless feel; the floor was of stone,
the tables marble, the wash-hand basin long, oval, and shallow, like
an old fashioned salad dish, and all the furniture of correspondent
antiquity. But I had determined not to give way to gloomy reflections;
therefore, I wished my host a good night, and being left to myself, soon
regained that contented frame of mind, which is indispensable to those
who mean to pass smoothly, and happily, through this scene of mortality.
On the present occasion I convinced myself that I had every reason to be
grateful to that Power, which had so far conducted me in safety through
my journey, and whose blessings and mercies have been so largely, I may
say incessantly, extended over me.
A part of the succeeding morning was appropriated to calling upon friends
for whom I had letters. The one I first inquired for was gone to the
south of France; but I had the pleasure of meeting with my old shipmate
L⸺ and a friend of his, both of whom had been fellow students with me
in Edinburgh. I then repeated my visit to Miss L⸺, at whose house I had
called on the preceding evening, and found she had returned that call
during my absence; she expressed much surprise and pleasure at seeing me,
and engaged me to dine with her on the following day.
I returned to our table d’hôte dinner, and had the unexpected pleasure
of finding there a friend whom I had left in Bath the previous spring.
There was also another English gentleman at table, who invited me to walk
with him to the Palais-Royal. We accordingly took our coffee at one of
the numerous caffés, with which that quarter abounds. My companion was a
stranger in Paris as well as myself; in consequence of which we contrived
to lose our way, and had considerable difficulty in regaining our hotel;
we escaped, however, all the dangers, and _supercheries_, of this very
notorious place.
On Tuesday morning, my friend L⸺ called, for the express purpose of
accompanying me to inquire after the conveyances to Bordeaux. We were
informed, that two coaches leave Paris daily for that place; one at three
o’clock, from the Messagerie-Royal, running by way of Tours, where it
rests on the second night for a few hours, and occupying four days, and
as many nights, in the journey, the fare sixty francs; the other taking
the route of Orleans, five days on the road, and the fare fifty francs.
The former is considered the best appointed, and the roads and hotels,
with which it is connected, much preferable.
But, as it cannot fail to be irksome to travel three or four hundred
miles at one sitting, with the exception of the short rest at Tours, I
would recommend the English traveller to accomplish some part of his
journey in a voiture de voyage, and then rest for a day or two; or
perhaps he might, in the first instance, take a place in a regular coach,
termed a jumeaux, which travels to Tours in two days; after which the
journey may be prosecuted to Poitiers in a voiture or diligence, where
the chance must be taken of being carried forward to Bordeaux in the same
manner.
After this inquiry, I had to keep my appointment for dinner with Miss L⸺,
where I met a young lady, her niece, who resided with her, and Colonel
M⸺, a gentleman to whom my friend was on the point of marriage. I enjoyed
my visit much, but took leave at an early hour, under the promise of
breakfasting with her, at twelve in the morning, _a la fourchette_.
This lady was anxious that, instead of leaving Paris immediately for
Bordeaux, as I had intended, I should place myself for a week in a
boarding-house, with a view of gaining, before I commenced so long
a journey, some slight acquaintance with the French language. This
advice appeared so excellent, that I determined to follow it; and after
breakfast, Miss L⸺ was kind enough to accompany me to a house which she
recommended, and where I immediately took up my residence.
I should feel myself inexcusable, if I neglected, in this place, to
express the lively sense I entertain, of the many kind attentions,
which I received from this amiable lady, and which rather indicated the
affectionate regards of a sister, than the notices of an accidental
acquaintance. I regretted that this was the last opportunity I had of
seeing her in Paris, as she was obliged immediately to leave town for
Fontainbleau, and did not return before my departure.
“Sweet friendship, solace of mankind,
Come! with thy presence warm my heart,
And when a kindred soul I find,
Oh never, never let us part.
They call thee changing, sordid, vain,
On earth scarce known, and rare to see;
And when they feel base treach’ry’s pain,
They lay the heavy blame on thee.
’Tis true there are whom interest blind,
That prostitute thy sacred name;
Their souls to narrow views confined,
They never felt thy noble flame.”
During the week I remained in Mr. Fetherstone’s boarding-house, the
weather was wet and cold, so that we were much confined within doors;
but as our party consisted of twenty individuals, there was no want of
amusement, and the continued intercourse necessarily kept up amongst
us, tended materially to promote my object of acquiring the language.
The following anecdote will serve to shew, how much I was in need of
improvement in this respect.
On the morning after my entrance into this family, I rang the bell of my
bed-chamber, and requested a French servant to bring me hot water; in
answer to this he replied, “_toute a l’heure_,” with the meaning of which
I was at the time totally ignorant: after waiting a quarter of an hour,
I rang again, and received the same reply, “_toute a l’heure_,” but with
no better result: I again repeated my application, it was still “_toute a
l’heure_:” at length, after, the lapse of an hour, he brought the water.
At breakfast, I took the opportunity of inquiring the signification of
this convenient expression, requesting to be informed, whether it implied
any specific time, when they told me it meant “immediately.” I thought,
however, in the present instance, that the action did not suit the word.
It may be expected, that I should make some remarks concerning the
Parisian theatres, and other places of amusement; however my ignorance of
the language, and want of vision, as well as the state of the weather,
diminished the ardour of the desires which I possessed, on entering
Paris, to visit these scenes; however, the many recent accounts that have
been published, leave me no cause to regret the omission. For similar
reasons I am prevented from attempting any description of this grand
city; and, therefore, in lieu of it, beg leave to offer the following
laconic and popular _petite chanson_.
LE PORTRAIT DE PARIS.
Amour; marriage; divorce;
Naissance; mort; enterrement;
Fausse vertu; brillante écorce;
Petit esprit; grand sentiment;
Dissipateurs; prèteurs sur gages;
Hommes de lettres; financiers;
Financiers; créanciers; maltotiers, et rentiers;
Tiedes amis; femmes volages; riches galants;
Pauvres maris. Voilà Paris! Voilà Paris!
Là des commères qui bavardent;
Là des viellards; là des enfans;
Là des aveugles qui regardent
Ce que leur donnent les passant;
Restorateurs; apoticaires; commis; pedants;
Taileurs; voleurs; rimailleurs, ferrailleurs;
Aboyeurs; juges de paix, et gens de guerre;
Tendrons vendu, quittè, repris.
Voilà Paris! Voilà Paris!
Maints gazetiers; maints impostures;
Maints enneuyeux; maints ennuyés;
Beaucoup de fripons en voitures;
Beaucoup d’honnêtes gens à pied;
Les jeunes gens portent lunettes;
Le vieux visage rajeuni;
Rajeunis bien garnis, bien garnis de vernis;
Acteurs; ventes; marionettes; grand melodrames;
Plats ecris. Voilà Paris! Voilà Paris!
The week now drawing to a close, I prepared to quit Paris; in particular,
I had my passport arranged, a point frequently attended with much
trouble, as it must in the first instance be procured from the police,
then presented for the signature of the English ambassador, after which
it is returned to the police, and some other office, for their definitive
signatures, before the individual is permitted to depart.
CHAP. III.
JOURNEY TO BORDEAUX.
Having engaged a place in the diligence, which took the way of Tours, in
the afternoon of the 27th of October, I commenced my journey to Bordeaux,
after bidding farewell
“To the few, I might leave with regret.”
In order to guard against the same irregularity of meals, which I had
suffered from on my way to Paris, I took care to be provided with a
tongue, fruit, and a bottle of wine. My companions were three Frenchmen,
and of course I could anticipate little conversation, at least they
were sure soon to find me a dead letter; but notwithstanding, I doubted
not but that I should derive occupation and amusement from my own
reflections, and determined to avail myself of all the opportunities of
social intercourse which might offer themselves. As may be imagined,
the afternoon passed off very silently on my part: at night I contrived
to dose a little, and my companions accorded with me perfectly in this
respect.
On the following day we dined at Blois, where they gave us some of the
finest grapes I had yet partaken of in France. In the evening the weather
proved rainy; at midnight we arrived at Tours, from whence, after resting
a few hours, we proceeded on our journey at five o’clock in the morning;
at eight o’clock we halted at a small town for breakfast, where I derived
some gratification from meeting with a person who could speak English, an
Irish horse-dealer, travelling with his string of horses from Rochelle to
Paris.
We reached Poitiers for dinner, at the late hour of eight in the evening,
but my companions did not appear to be annoyed at this late postponement
of their favourite repast. It appears very immaterial to a Frenchman when
he gets his meals, he is not only _toujours prêt_, but endures fasting
with better grace by far than an Englishman. On the following day we
passed through Limoges and Angoulême. In the afternoon of this day, we
took up a woman and her daughter, aged about seventeen, with a child;
these were the only females I had yet met with in a diligence in France,
and I could not but feel irritated at the ungallant treatment they
received from their countrymen. The young lady having placed herself in
the seat of one of them, he very rudely insisted upon her restoring it:
I regretted that I was unable to advocate her cause: but possibly this
feeling might be dictated by some selfish motive, as a desire to resent
certain indignities to which I had been subjected by the same individual,
who frequently annoyed me with the fumes of his segar, and once had the
impudence to puff them in my face; I felt not a little inclined to give
him personal chastisement, but prudence restrained me.
About nine o’clock on the following morning, being Sunday, the 31st of
October, one of our company exclaimed, “_Voilà Bordeaux!_” The sound
revived me exceedingly, for I was become irritable and impatient, from
the length and fatigue of the journey. At twelve o’clock the coach
halted, and my fellow-passengers immediately jumped out, leaving me
to shift for myself. Of course I concluded that we had arrived at the
coach-office, and began to call loudly for the conducteur to come and
assist me in getting out. He immediately presented himself, uttered the
now well-known “_toute a l’heure_,” and left me. Although I perfectly
recollected the unlimited signification of this word in Paris, what
could I do? Had I jumped out, I should not have known what step to have
taken next, and the rain was falling in torrents. There appeared no
remedy, but to sit patiently until it might please some one to come to my
assistance. In a while I heard at least thirty people around the coach,
talking a loud and unintelligible gibberish, quite unlike any language
of the country which I had hitherto heard; soon afterwards I perceived
the carriage undergoing an extraordinary, and irregular kind of motion;
the people occasionally opened the door, and made me move from one side
to the other, as if they were using me for shifting ballast; I inferred
that they were taking off the wheels, with a view of placing the carriage
under cover. After this I became sensible of a noise of water splashing,
as if they were throwing it from out of hollows, where it had collected
in consequence of the rain. It was in vain that I endeavoured to gain
an explanation of my being thus left behind in the coach, the only
satisfaction I could derive was “_tout a l’heure_,” and the conviction
that nothing remained for me but to be patient.
“But patience is more oft the exercise
Of saints, the trial of their fortitude.”
At length the motion began to increase, and to my great surprise, after
an hour’s suspense, I heard the horses again attaching to the carriage;
the passengers re-entered the coach, and we once more proceeded on our
journey!
It was afterwards explained to me, that these unaccountable proceedings
arose, on our having arrived on the banks of the river Dordogne, which
enters the Garonne, near Bordeaux, from the necessity, at this point, of
transporting the carriage on a raft for some distance down the stream;
that the passengers had crossed the river in a ferry-boat, to a coach
waiting for them on the other side, leaving me to float down with the
carriage on the raft, or sink to the bottom as fate might determine; in
short, I found that, while I supposed myself sitting in the coach-office
yard at Bordeaux, I had actually travelled four miles by water, without
having entertained the least idea of such an adventure.
In a quarter of an hour after this, we actually arrived at the coach
office. On alighting, I was accosted by a man, who in the English
language informed me, that he was a traiteur (or the keeper of an eating
and lodging-house), and who did me the favour of recommending to me, in
very strong terms, both his house and his wife; the latter, he said, was
an American, spoke English well, and would provide me an excellent bed,
as well as every thing else I might wish for; but as I had a particular
introduction to a friend, I determined to decline these tempting offers,
until I had consulted him: taking the traiteur’s card therefore, and
requesting him to procure a hackney-coach, I drove straightway to the
house of my friend, who recommended me to take lodgings in preference. I
lost no time in adopting his suggestion, and taking immediate possession
of my apartments, experienced the great luxury and refreshment of
changing my dress, after four days’ uninterrupted travelling.
After this, my friend accompanied me to dine at a traiteur’s, first
bargaining that we should be allowed to select any four dishes from the
_carte_, for which, with a small bottle of wine, and _pain a discrétion_,
we were to pay about fifteen-pence each. In the first place, we were
served with soup in silver basins; then came an entré of ragoûts, and
afterwards a roast chicken, followed by a dessert. When we had done,
we gave the waiter three or four sous, with which he appeared highly
satisfied.
On the following morning, at the urgent instance of my friend, I
consulted an eminent oculist of this place, respecting my eyes, who
appeared to entertain the same opinion as most of my medical attendants
in England; namely, that a cataract existed, but not sufficiently
matured, to be operated upon, with advantage, for the present. My friend,
however, was not satisfied with this opinion, and insisted upon taking
me to the wife of an umbrella-maker, famous for her skill in restoring
sight, and who recommended a long course of herb medicines, and other
nostrums; but I wanted faith in her power to serve me, and moreover, was
satisfied with the opinions, in which my medical friends had concurred,
as well as reconciled to my deprivation, and resigned to the will of
Providence.
“Who finds not Providence all good and wise,
Alike in what it gives, and what denies.”—POPE.
My next attention, was to ascertain the modes of conveyance to Toulouse.
We found that the diligence sets out every other day at ten in the
morning, occupying two days, and two nights on the road, the fare
forty-five francs; there was, however, also a voiture from Paris, leaving
on the following morning, and which would be five days on the journey,
resting always at night; and by the recommendation of my friend, I
determined to give it the preference; in short, I was pleased with the
idea of this new mode of travelling. An agreement in writing was drawn
up, to which the proprietor affixed his signature, and according to
which, amongst other stipulations, I was to be taken up from my lodgings,
and provided, during my journey, with a bed-room to myself every night.
We were informed that an officer and his wife were to be of the party,
and the latter happening to be present, offered to render me every
assistance in her power; this, I must admit, was an additional inducement
with me, for the attentions of the softer sex are peculiarly acceptable
under my present affliction; and it is but a just tribute to their
kindness, to say, that I have abundantly experienced them; and farther,
I am convinced that the sympathy I have so often met with, is perfectly
congenial with the innate principles of the female character.
“Man may the sterner virtues know,
Determined justice, truth severe;
But female hearts with pity glow,
And woman holds affliction dear.”—CRABBE.
CHAP. IV.
JOURNEY TO TOULOUSE.
My stay in Bordeaux was too brief to enable me to acquire any knowledge
of this ancient and celebrated city, nor indeed, had it been prolonged,
do my inclinations, or powers, qualify me for topographical description;
the chief object of the present narrative, being to relate the incidents
of a journey, which at the time greatly interested me, and to give as
faithful representations of men and manners, as the opportunities which
presented themselves, and my personal disadvantages would admit of; in
short, to
“Eye nature’s walks, shoot folly as it flies,
And catch the manners living as they rise.”
I was apprised by a porter, at three o’clock, that the voiture was
in readiness, and after bustling to be in time, was by no means
pleased to find that I had been disturbed an hour too soon; nor was
my dissatisfaction diminished, when the porter, by signs, gave me to
understand, that I must traverse the greater part of the city with him
to the coach-office; it was in vain to remonstrate with a person who
could not understand me, and insist upon the fulfilment of my agreement;
at length, however, to cut short the argument, my conductor, with a
mixture of passion and impatience, seized my portmanteau, and gave me
to understand, that I had no alternative but to accompany him, or lose
my passage. In fine, I was obliged to submit, and after half an hour’s
walk, we reached the voiture in safety. The next measure was to place my
portmanteau in security, and which, unless I had interfered, would have
been exposed on the outside of the voiture. Travellers in France should
always superintend the stowage of their luggage, as it is not unusual to
have it stolen from the exterior of the carriage. Dr. O⸺, a gentleman,
whom I had the pleasure of meeting in the summer of 1820, at Aix in
Provence, in travelling from Lyons to Geneva, lost his trunk, containing
valuable collections he had made in Italy, and other property, worth some
thousand francs, from the outside of the diligence. He was induced to
commence an action against the proprietors, either to stimulate them to
recover his property, or to make them compensate his loss; but finding
that, after a tedious and expensive process, the utmost he could recover,
would be a thousand francs, he thought it most prudent to abandon it.
At length our arrangements being completed, the voiturier made the
customary signal with his whip, and we bade adieu to Bordeaux.
One of the earliest, and most obvious attentions of the traveller in
a public stage, is to reconnoitre his companions, and endeavour to
ascertain whether it be possible to elicit information or amusement
from them; the group with which I was now thrown into collision, was
not unlikely to be productive of interest; I was soon convinced, from
the nature of their conversation, that my companions were not of the
genteelest stamp. The women were at home in speaking patois, and the
only one who could not join in this, was the person who, I suppose from
his wearing a large cocked-hat, had been taken for an officer, but who,
I afterwards found, had been a bootmaker in one of Bonaparte’s cavalry
regiments.
At ten o’clock we halted, and were regaled with a breakfast _a la
fourchette_, consisting of soup bouillè, ragoûts, roasted fowls, and
little birds; the compliments of the table were paid me; my companions
did not sit down until I had nearly finished; and the voiturier placed
himself by my side, serving me with every dish as it was brought in,
and appearing to expect me to partake of all of them. I confined myself
chiefly to the soup and rôti; the little birds would have relished well,
had not a slice of bacon placed on the breast of each, destroyed their
natural flavour.
At one o’clock we recommenced our journey, and at six in the evening,
reached our resting place for the night. After a delay of two hours,
a profuse supper was served up in regular courses, and concluded by a
dessert of grapes, pruins, apples, pears, nuts, and small sponge cakes. I
was not a little surprised at their mode of cooking a cauliflower which I
had inquired for; after a great many “_toute a l’heure’s_,” it made its
appearance, boiled as soft as batter, and mixed up with oil, vinegar, and
pepper, like a salad!
The wine was excellent, and the glass circulated freely. Who thought I,
would not travel in a voiture, to live thus cheerily, and at so trifling
an expense, for it will scarcely appear credible, that the proprietor
had engaged to convey me to Toulouse, a distance of one hundred and
twenty-five miles, occupying five days on the journey, and providing me
with every necessary, beds included, for thirty-five francs, equal to
about five shillings and ten pence English money per day!
Our supper party consisted of nine or ten persons, not indeed of the most
select kind, but I had no right to complain, as with a view of avoiding
trouble, and imposition, and at the same time, with some prospect of
deriving gratification from the _melange_ of characters I expected to
meet with, I had engaged to put up with the general fare.
My companions appeared to enjoy their repast, and every additional glass
evidently produced increased animation, as they talked louder and faster.
They were, however, particularly attentive to myself, my want of sight
probably exciting their sympathy.
At length, fatigued with the scene, I gave them to understand that I
wished to retire, and was conducted to a chamber which was furnished
with several beds, and had the pleasure of finding the one that had been
selected for my repose, good and commodious. But an important dilemma
now presented itself: taking the _fille-de-chambre_ by the hand, in
order to ascertain that she was carrying the candle away with her, a
point I am always particular in attending to, as, when it has been left
behind, I have occasionally burnt my fingers, and once even made an
extinguisher of my chin; and then making a motion to lock her out, that I
might, according to the especial clause in my agreement to that effect,
appropriate the room entirely to myself, I was surprised to find her
as strenuously oppose this measure, as most of the fair sex, I have no
doubt, would an attempt to lock them in. It was useless endeavouring to
comprehend her meaning, and only by returning to the supper-room, did I
learn, that the room in question, was intended for the accommodation of
the whole party. It is not easy to conceive the confusion which ensued,
on my evincing a steady determination not to pass the night by the side
of the conducteur, or even the ladies of our party; I persisted, however,
in my resolution, and folding my arms, and closing my eye-lids, reclined,
in the posture of repose, in a large easy chair in which I happened to be
placed.
At length, the bootmaker’s wife, taking me by the hand, conducted me to a
single-bedded room, from which, after having assisted in my arrangements,
and warmed my bed, she permitted me to lock her out.
I cannot but express myself grateful, for the interest this kind-hearted
woman evinced in my favour, on the present occasion; but this is not the
only time, that I have been indebted for support and success, to a fair
advocate.
At four in the morning we were summoned by the conducteur, and the
soldier’s wife kindly came to assist me down stairs. The party were
assembled in the parlour, and fortifying themselves, against the
fatigues of the day, with bread and brandy, but I gave the preference
to some grapes. At eleven, we halted for breakfast, and, according to
the usual custom, rested two hours in the middle of the day; after
this we pursued our journey, the conducteur mounting under cover in
front of the voiture, to protect him from the rain, which was falling
heavily. About three o’clock, while proceeding so quietly, that it might
almost be presumed, that not only the conducteur and his passengers,
but the horses themselves were fast asleep, we were aroused by the
very interesting incident of our whole equipage, including the horses,
being overturned into a deep ditch. I shall not attempt to describe the
noise and confusion which succeeded; the party were almost frantic with
terror; at length, having succeeded in extricating ourselves from this
unpleasant situation, I was placed for shelter under a large tree, while
the rest assisted the conducteur in raising up the coach and horses. This
operation took up half-an-hour, during which, I could hear our guide
contributing abundantly, both with his whip and imprecations.
Fortunately no serious injury was sustained, and I felt strong reason
to congratulate myself, for I had heard in the morning, that we were to
cross the Garonne this afternoon, and my first impression was, that we
were falling into this river; nor had I forgotten my adventures on the
Dordogne.
The carriage being at length righted, the conducteur urged forward his
jaded horses with little mercy, probably stimulated by revenge for the
late occurrence, which was mainly attributable to his own negligence.
At six o’clock we crossed the Garonne, and in consequence of delays and
accidents, did not arrive at our _auberge_ until eight o’clock, when we
dispatched a hasty supper, and retired to bed. I here found the advantage
of my resolution on the preceding evening, having an undisputed bed-room
to myself.
We resumed our journey at the usual hour in the morning. Before we set
out, the conducteur requested me to advance him a part of his fare, and
which I believe is usual, if not generally necessary, as these people
are so miserably poor, that, otherwise, they would be unable to bear the
unavoidable expenses of the journey; but in my case, as it was agreed
that he should be paid by my banker, on my safe arrival at Toulouse, he
had no right to expect the indulgence. This arrangement had been adopted
from my wish to have it supposed that I was travelling without money,
notwithstanding, I had the precaution, as a resource against accidents,
not only to have a few napoleons in my portmanteau, but also some in a
girdle round my waist, so that I had a double chance of not being left
destitute.
In the present case, in order to put this surly fellow into good humour,
I thought well to advance him a couple of five franc pieces, but without
producing the effect I had anticipated; for finding myself suffering
from headach, which I attributed to want of due exercise, I made signs
for him to halt, while I might get out of the coach, with the intention
of walking for a time; he only, however, replied, with much coolness,
“_toute a l’heure_;” and notwithstanding my repeated request, was quite
indisposed to accommodate me, until I manifested my intention of jumping
out: he now thought well to stop his horses, and proffer his assistance;
however, I refused it, and succeeded in finding the back part of the
coach, where I secured my hold by means of a piece of cord (which when
travelling I make a rule to carry always in my pocket), and which, in
the present instance, served me as a leading string; I then followed,
in this way, on foot for several miles, to the no small amusement of
the villagers, who laughed heartily, and even shouted after me. I had,
however, the satisfaction of getting rid of my headach, and succeeded in
completely tiring myself. We did not reach our breakfast point before two
o’clock, and proceeding again at four, arrived proportionately late at
the end of the day’s journey.
The succeeding morning proved remarkably fine, and we prosecuted our
journey with additional pleasure. I found the conducteur more humble, and
my companions, in general, more attentive to me than usual. The advantage
I had derived from exercise on the preceding day determined me to walk
again, and the bootmaker civilly offered me his arm. After proceeding
some distance, he proposed entering a wine-shop, to which I assented;
we tried three, however, before we found any wine to our taste: in
consequence of the time thus lost, the voiture got considerably the start
of us, so that we were obliged to exert ourselves to regain it.