Kitabı oku: «First Impressions on a Tour upon the Continent»
PREFACE
In perusing the following pages, it will I hope be believed, that they were not originally written with any view to publication: circumstances have since occurred, which induce me to alter my first intention, and to submit them to a more enlarged circle, than that of a few intimate friends, to whose eye alone I had once thought of presenting them.
In committing my First Impressions to so fearful an ordeal as the opinion of the Public, I feel oppressed by a sense of their various imperfections, and by the conviction of their trifling value as a work of the sort; yet I still flatter myself they will be received with forbearance. I had much amusement in attempting this little sketch, and I most sincerely entreat that it may be considered as what it is, a sketch only. My friends will not, and readers in general must not, look for fine writing from the pen of such a novice as myself; nor ought they to expect me (labouring under the twofold disadvantage of sex and inexperience) to narrate with the accuracy and precision of a regular tourist, the history (natural, moral, political, literary and commercial) of all the places we visited: still less, that (in compliment to the lovers of the gastronomic art) I should undertake to give the bill of fare of every table d'hôte or traiteur that we met with in our progress.
Among the many fears which assail me, there is one that recurs to my mind with more pertinacity than the rest: that I may be taxed with having bestowed too warm and glowing a colouring upon some objects of natural beauty and sublimity. Formerly, indeed, I believe I was in danger of leaning towards romance in describing scenes which had particularly impressed my imagination or interested my feelings, and of attempting to imitate, with too rash and unadvised a pencil, the fervour of a Mrs. Radcliffe, although to catch the peculiar charm and spirit of her style I felt to be (for me) impossible. But notwithstanding that I still remember with complacence the time when the vivid imagination of very early youth procured me the enjoyment of a thousand bright and lovely illusions, and cast a sort of fairy splendour over existence which was certainly more bewitching than many realities that I have since met with, I at present feel (as better becomes me) more inclined to worship at the sober shrine of reason and judgment. This, it will be easily conceived, was likely to render my Tour a more faithful picture, than if it had been undertaken some years ago, and I can safely affirm, that I commenced it with a determination to observe all things without prejudice of any sort, not even that of nationality; for prejudice is still the same irrational and unworthy feeling, in every shape and under every name. I was much hurried at the time of writing this Journal; but a greater degree of subsequent leisure has enabled me to add some few notes which may, I hope, amuse and interest my readers. In these I acknowledge with gratitude the occasional assistance of a partial friend.
April, 1819.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
On Monday, August 9th, we embarked from the Ship inn at Dover, for Calais, on board the Princess Augusta packet. The passage was dreadful, the usual miseries attended us, and at the time I am now writing this, viz. August 13th, we are still suffering from the effects of our voyage. I will not make my readers ill by recalling the disgusting scenes which we there encountered, suffice it to say, that the bare remembrance of them is sufficient to overwhelm my still sick fancy, and to render the very name of the sea appalling to my ears. Upon landing at Calais, however, we contrived to raise our heavy eyes, with a lively feeling of curiosity and interest, to the motley crowd assembled on the beach to view us come on shore. I was pleased with what we are taught to call the habitual politeness of even the lowest order of French people, evinced in the alacrity with which twenty hands were held out to support me in descending from the packet, and in the commiseration which I plainly discovered in many a sun-burnt countenance for my evident indisposition. The hotel (Quillacq's) is excellent, and the attendants remarkably civil and active. The style of furniture is superior to that of the best English hotels; and for a dinner and dessert of the most superior quality, we did not pay more than we should have done at an ordinary inn in our own country for very common fare. The dress of the lower classes here is rather pretty; the circumstance of the women wearing caps, neatly plaited, and tolerably clean, together with the body and petticoat of different colours, gives them a picturesque air: the long gold ear-rings, also (universally worn at this place, consisting of two drops, one suspended at the end of the other), contribute greatly to their graceful effect. The men do not differ much in their appearance from those of the same rank in England, but I think the animation universally displayed in the countenances of the fairer sex particularly striking, and certainly preferable to that want of expression so often to be found among my countrywomen.
When we first started from Calais for Paris, with post-horses, I could not help a little national feeling of complacency upon observing the slovenly, shabby appearance of their harness and accoutrements, compared with those of England. From London to Dover, we had bowled away with ease and rapidity; the carriage seemed to cut through the air with a swift and even motion. Now we crawled and jumbled along, as it pleased the fancy of the horses and driver, upon the latter of which no remonstrance of ours would have had any effect. The costume of the post-boy (who drives three horses abreast, a fat, full-sized beast in the middle, his own rather smaller, and the off horse always a ragged flap-eared pony, looking as if he had just been caught up from a common) is whimsical enough; it is universally the royal livery: a shabby, dirty, short-waisted blue jacket, turned up with crimson, and laced sometimes with silver; boots resembling those of our heavy cavalry, and a thick clubbed pigtail, swinging like a pendulum from beneath a rusty japan hat. It was not till we had reached the distance of Abbeville that we met with the celebrated genuine grosses bottes, whose enormous size put me in mind of my nursery days, when I used to listen to the wonderous tale of the giant-killer and his seven-leagued boots. The lash of the post-boy's whip is thick and knotted, and they have a curious method of cracking it upon passing other carriages, to give notice of their approach: this saves their lungs, and has not an unpleasant effect, the cracking sound being of a peculiar nature, double, as if it said "crac-crac" at each stroke. It is not every post-boy, however, who manages this little implement in the true style. They all carry the badge of their profession upon the left arm (like our watermen), being a silver or metal plate with the arms of France upon it. From Calais to Haut-buisson the country is extremely flat, barren and uninteresting, like the ugliest parts of Wiltshire and Sussex; and the straight line in which all the French roads are cut is tiresome and monotonous to a great degree. The case is not mended even when you advance as far as Marquise, and I began to yawn in melancholy anticipation of a similar prospect for nearly a hundred and eighty miles, which yet remained to be passed ere we reached Paris; but upon coming near Beaupres, we were agreeably disappointed, finding the surface of the country more undulated, and patches of woodlands thinly strewn here and there – it is amazing how greatly the eye is relieved by this change. The hamlets between Haut-buisson and Boulogne much resemble those in the west of England; we were perpetually fancying ourselves in a Somersetshire village as we passed through them. On the road-side it is very common to see large crucifixes, raised to a considerable height, with the figure of our Saviour the size of life. We remarked one in particular, painted black, and the image flesh-colour, with the drapery about the middle gilt; another was inclosed in a small railed space (like a village pound), surrounded by four or five clumsy stone images, which I rather imagine were meant to represent the holy women who assembled round the cross during our Saviour's last moments. As we approached Boulogne, we met several old peasants: they all wore cocked hats, and a suit of decent, sad-coloured clothes, not unlike the dress of our villagers on a Sunday.
The entrance to Boulogne is very picturesque: the fortifications are crumbling a little beneath the touch of time, and the walls are partly overgrown by trees and lichens; but a very little exertion would render it formidable enough, I imagine, to besiegers. We dined here at an inn, where they thought they could not do us a greater favour than by sending up a meal in what they believed to be the English style of cookery; consequently it was neither one thing nor the other, and extremely disagreeable: amongst various delicacies, we had melted salt butter swimming in oil, and quite rancid, brought to table in a tea-cup, and a large dish of tough spongy lumps of veal, which they called veal cutlets. As I sat at the window, which opened upon the principal street, I had an opportunity of remarking a specimen of true French flattery, but I was not quite so pervious to its benign influence as Sterne describes his ladies to have been in the Sentimental Journey. A little ragged urchin of about ten years old rather annoyed me, by jumping up and grinning repeatedly in my face: "Allez, allez, que faites vous là?" said I. "C'est que je veux dire bon jour à Madame!" – "Eh, bien donc, vous l'avez dit à present – allez!" – "Ah! mais que Madame est jolie! Mon Dieu! elle est very prit. Elle me donnera un sous, n'est ce pas?"
It was at Poix that we accidentally met a woman of Normandy upon the road. She was well looking, and the costume both singular and becoming: the snow white cap with a deep plaited border, and a crown half a yard in height, fastened on the forehead by a gold pin, the long drop ear-rings and gold cross in a heavy worked setting, suspended round the throat by a narrow black riband, white handkerchief crossed over the bosom, and a body and petticoat of opposite colours, with full white shift sleeves coming over the elbows, formed a remarkably pretty dress.
I ought to have mentioned before now, that on the road between Marquise and Beaupres we were amused by observing an unfinished tower, erected by Bonaparte some years since, designed to commemorate his intended victory over the English, by invasion – a true chateau en Espagne. Wishing to refresh ourselves by leaving the carriage while the horses were changed, I entered a sort of rustic public-house, where I observed with much interest the interior of a French cottage kitchen and its inhabitants. A group of peasants sat round a wood fire, apparently waiting for their dinner, which, as a brisk lively paysanne took it off the embers to pour into a dish, looked and smelt most temptingly; it consisted of a mess of bread, herbs, and vegetables, stewed in broth: there was a member of this little circle who seemed to watch the progress of the cooking with peculiar delight; I mean a large, powerful, yet playful dog, whose exact breed we did not discover, but we were informed he was English – doubtless he recognized his countrymen! The plates and dishes, utensils, &c. were ranged upon shelves from the top to the bottom of the little kitchen, and equally distributed on all sides, instead of being confined to the vicinity of the dresser, as is generally the case in England; they were chiefly of a coarse white clay, painted in a gaudy and sprawling pattern of red flowers: the old woman of the house apologized for their not being quite so bright as they ought to have been, but said the flies dirtied them sadly; however, every thing looked clean and comfortable. The costume of the men is not becoming; they all wear white coarse cotton night-caps, and smock-frocks dyed with indigo; their features and countenances much resemble those of a similar rank in England. It appears to me that the old peasants alone wear the cocked hat in this part of France: perhaps it is a remnant of the national dress in the time of the ancien regime. The young children, from one to five or six years of age, are (generally speaking) very pretty, and some of them have the drollest little faces I ever saw, dark eyes and marked eyebrows and lashes, full of smiles and roguery; their hair is always allowed to hang at full length upon their shoulders, never being shorn and cropt. Having dined at Boulogne, we proceeded on our journey as far as Samer, intending to sleep the first night at Montreuil; but a direct stop was put to any such project, by the circumstance of a total absence of post-horses; they were all too much fatigued to carry us farther, or were employed in the service of other travellers. Evening was now closing rapidly in, and we were really glad to comply with the urgent solicitations of a rural fille de chambre, who ran out of the little inn at that place (Samer), and assured us we should meet with very comfortable accommodations and be treated with every attention at the Tête de Bœuf, to which she belonged: "Ma foi, messieurs," said the postilion, "vous trouverez que cette demoiselle est bien engageante." When we entered the house (through the kitchen, which much resembled that of a large cottage), we found a neat little parlour, the water ready boiling in the tea-kettle, excellent tea, bread, butter, and cream. The demoiselle or fille de la maison (being the daughter of the hostess), and her assistant (the before-mentioned fille de chambre, in her country costume), flew about, seeming to anticipate all our wishes and wants; every thing was ready in an instant, and all was done, not by the wand of an enchanter, but by the magical influence of good humour and activity, void of pertness, and free from bustle or awkwardness of any sort. La jeune demoiselle was a pretty, modest, well-behaved girl, of sixteen or seventeen, and the maid a merry, good-looking, sprightly lass, some few years older. She appeared to enjoy a joke to her heart, and returned a neat answer to our laughing questions more than once, and this without being at all immodest or impertinent. Mr. B. asked her if she was married: "Pas encore, Monsieur," (said she, looking comically naïve), "mais j'espère toujours!" In short, her manner was something quite peculiar to the French in that class of society. An English maid servant who had kept up this sort of badinage would most probably have been a girl of light character; but servants in France are indulged in a playful familiarity of speech and manner which is amusing to witness, and seldom (if ever) prevents them from treating you with every essential respect and attention. When we started the next morning, the demoiselle earnestly entreated us to breakfast at the Hotel de l'Europe, at Montreuil, which was kept by her sister, a young woman only two years older than herself, who was just married; and both she and her little maid added many a remembrance upon their parts to la chere sœur. Whether this was genuine sisterly affection, or the policy of two innkeepers playing into each other's hands, I really cannot take upon me to determine.
The country between Samer and Montreuil becomes far more agreeable than hitherto; one here sees hills and vales, and waving woods: we passed the forest of Tingri, but did not remark any large trees; they were chiefly of beech, with a great profusion of low underwood. We met many waggons and carts upon the road which are all very different from those used in England, being much narrower, and lighter for the horses: they are usually open at the ends, and the sides resemble two long ladders. The wheat harvest in this part of the country was remarkably fine; oats were plentifully planted, but the crops were thin; the hay, clover, &c. were scarce also, and of inferior quality, owing to the long drought. We observed the women reaping quite as much as the men, and their complexions, poor creatures! were absolutely baked black by the sun. The road now led us though the heart of the forest of Aregnes: it is of large extent, but we observed the same want of fine timber as in that of Tingri; the reason of this is, that the trees are always cut down before they attain their full growth, for the purpose of fuel, as wood fires are universal in France. We admired, however, several "dingles green," and "tangled wood walks wild," which looked very cool and inviting, but I remembered with pride the "giant oaks and twilight glades beneath" of our own New Forest, and this coppice made but a trifling appearance in the comparison. Emerging once more from hence upon the open country, we beheld in the distance a troop of English dragoons (probably from Boulogne) exercising their horses. What a singular spectacle in the midst of a people who so lately ruled the world, but who now are trampled beneath the feet of the stranger! The sight of the English, thus proudly paramount, must necessarily be revolting and galling to them in the highest degree: we should feel quite as bitterly, were it our own fate – more so, perhaps. Let us therefore be just, and make allowance for their natural disgust, while we condemn the vanity and mad ambition which has thus reduced them.
The approach to Montreuil is pretty; the character of the landscape changes, in a sudden and agreeable manner: in place of an uninclosed tract of land, resembling a vast ocean of waving corn, you now see verdant meadows and green pastures, refreshing the tired eye, and wearing the livery of early spring; this effect is produced by the fields lying low, and by the practice of irrigation, which is an admirable substitute for rain.
Montreuil is a fortified town; we passed over drawbridges upon entering and leaving it: the houses are all very ancient, and the whole appearance is picturesque. Here we had a mental struggle between sentiment and good nature, for we wished to breakfast at the same inn where Sterne met with La Fleur, and yet were unwilling to disappoint the hopes of our little demoiselle at Samer, who had recommended her sister's hotel. Good nature carried the day, and we drove to l'Hotel de l'Europe, where we met with most comfortable accommodation, and were pleased by the young hostess's resemblance to her pretty sister, and by her civil, lively manner of receiving us. She sat during our breakfast in a neighbouring apartment, by the kitchen (like the mistress of the mansion in times of yore), working at her needle, surrounded by her hand-maidens, who were occupied in the same employment. They all seemed to be fond of her, and the light laugh of genuine hilarity rang from one to the other as they chatted at their ease. The room in which we breakfasted had (in common with most of the French apartments, which are not paved with brick), a handsome oak floor, waxed and dry rubbed till it was nearly as highly polished as a dining-table; the walls were wainscoted in part, and partly hung with a very amusing paper, having groups of really superior figures stamped upon it, in the manner of black and white chalk drawings upon a blue ground; one space, which had been intended for a looking-glass, was filled up in this style, with a scene from the loves of Cupid and Psyche, executed in a classical manner. You would never see such a thing in any English country inn, and I consider the French in these sort of decorations to possess far better taste than ourselves. As we passed through the cornfields on our way from Montreuil to Nampont, we were saluted by the ramasseurs (gleaners), with a bouquet or two, formed of wheat, platted in a neat and ingenious way, which they threw into the carriage, begging a sous in return, which we bestowed with much good will! Some children also began to sing and dance on the pathway by the road side, and I was surprised by observing that the tune was that of a quadrille, and that the steps were correct. I plainly recognized the en avant and the rigadon. Did this nation come into the world under the influence of a dancing star? I should say yes.
When the horses were changed at Nampont we disturbed the postillion at his dinner, who made his appearance devouring an indescribable something, which we afterwards discovered to be an omelette aux herbes: he deposited this occasionally on the saddle, while adjusting his harness.
The ricks of corn and hay here are constructed rather in a slovenly manner: the French farmers seem to have no idea of the neat method of the English, in this respect.
The road now led us by the celebrated Forest of Crecy, and the image of our gallant Black Prince rose vividly before my mind's eye. At Bernay we entered another peasant's cottage, where we (for the first time since our landing in this country) beheld real and positive beauty. Two lovely girls with clear brown skins (through which glowed a pure and animated carnation), long, dark blue eyes, black fringed lashes, and oval faces, came out with their mother, (a hale, well-looking country woman), and a younger sister of six years old, whose infantine charms were full as great in their way. I asked if the latter was the cadette of the family? Upon which the rural dame, with infinite good humour and readiness, corrected what she termed my mistaken appellation, by informing me that it was only the second child which they called the cadet or cadette1: the youngest was le dernier, or la derniere. We had much pleasure in remarking this beautiful trio, and the mother seemed not a little gratified at our evident admiration of her progeny.
The face of the country here again changed for the worse, relapsing into the same flat and monotonous appearance as at first, and it continued thus until within a mile of Abbeville, which is a very fine old town, with a cathedral dedicated to Saint Villefrond. The architecture is very striking, and the interior replete with the usual ornaments of superstition and idolatry: it was built by the English. My companions visited it, while I was resting quietly at the hotel, and saw several precious relics of saints departed. They found three very young devotees there, before a Salvator Mundi, who were much too merry to be very religious! I however met with quite an affecting spectacle when I went in my turn. Two poor paysannes, in the usual picturesque costume, were prostrate before the image of a dead Christ supported by the Virgin. They were praying with an expression of much earnest and sorrowful devotion: one of them had a sick child in her arms, for whom she appeared to invoke the divine compassion: poor little thing, the impression of approaching death was stamped upon its pale face, as it lay motionless, hardly seeming to breathe. The group struck my imagination so forcibly, that I afterwards attempted to sketch it from memory. Surely this religion, with all its faults, is very consolatory; and the faith and piety of these poor women must be confessed to be respectable and praiseworthy, however mingled with the alloy of superstition and ignorance: Calvin himself might have thought as I did, had he seen them.
It was market-day at Abbeville the morning after our arrival, and we were much amused with the various costumes and faces assembled there. We did not, however, see one pretty woman during the whole of our stay, which was two nights and a day. We went one evening to the theatre, and observed the same dearth of beauty among the audience, which chiefly consisted of petites bourgeoises, and officers of the national guards. This theatre is a very inferior one, and full of bad smells. We were assured by our hostess that the company (from Amiens) was very good, and that the piece they were to act (Les Templiers) was thought highly of. We all found it extremely difficult to follow the actors, owing to their unnatural declamatory tones, and the mouthing manner of pronouncing their words: this I believe, however, is universally the case, even with the first tragedians at Paris, Talma not excepted. How brightly do nature's favourite children, O'Neil and Kean, shine in comparison!
The inn at Abbeville, in which we took up our quarters (l'hotel de l'Europe), is most excellent: it is very large and roomy, and must once have been a handsome chateau. There is a delightful garden, which belonged formerly to a convent adjacent: the high walls covered with a profusion of delicious fruit. The trees in other parts of the garden also were bending beneath the weight of the apples and pears, plums, &c. Myrtles and rododendrons (the latter very large and fine) were placed here and there in tubs; and the fig-tree and vine overshadowed our bed-room windows, which looked upon this agreeable scene: the grapes were nearly ripe. The furniture of our bed-rooms was in a very superior style, though I have seen the same sort of things even in the most shabby looking little inns throughout France. Marble must be very common, and of a reasonable price, for we met with it every where, in chimney-pieces, slabs, tables, the tops of drawers, &c. The little washing stand, in our room at Abbeville, was of fine carved mahogany, in the form of an antique altar or tripod; and the bason and ewer, of an equally pure and classic form, were of fine French porcelain.
As I have a great passion for seeing the manners of all ranks of people, I went down into a little room next the kitchen, to chat with the hostess, while she was shelling some haricots blancs for dinner. I found this lady very communicative and civil; and I won her heart I believe, by taking some notice of her daughter, about six years old (her farewell performance in the maternal line), a pretty, gentle, timid little creature, who was busily occupied in putting her doll to bed in a cradle. Several peasants came into the inn-yard as I sat on a bench there: I observed that all the women wore large crosses, of clumsy workmanship, chiefly of white crystal, or glass, and coloured ear-rings, but not so long as those at Calais. We went into a little jeweller's shop, and bought a couple of the silver rings, with curious ornaments, which the peasants usually wear; their sentimental devices were very amusing.
Leaving Abbeville, we saw the common people employed in making ropes by the road-side, and remarked several large fields of hemp, and one or two of flax: the hemp, when cut, is piled up in sheaves, like corn. The country here is verdant, and rather woody: it lies low, and the river Somme winds through it, whose course may be plainly traced to a great distance by the willows which grow upon its banks, reminding me of parts of Berkshire. I ought not to omit mentioning the profusion of apple-trees which grow by the road-side, almost all the way to Paris: the trees were absolutely sinking beneath the weight of the fruit, and one or two of them had quite given way, and lay prostrate, training their rosy burthen in the dust. I am almost ashamed to say that my appetite was so much stronger than my honesty, that I could not be satisfied without tasting them; when I discovered that these fair apples were like those mentioned in the Scriptures, bright and tempting to the eye, but bitter as ashes within! In short, they were not eatable, but entirely of the cider kind, which, as every body knows, are good for nothing in a natural state. There are quantities, however, of eating apples besides, in every cottage garden; and the favourite food of the peasant children appears to be coarse, brown, heavy bread, with these roasted and spread upon it, instead of butter. We saw large piles of roasted apples in the market at Abbeville for this purpose.
The country near Airaines again becomes tiresome, from its barren sameness. Passing a little public house, we observed the following somewhat selfish inscription over the door: "Messieurs! nous sommes quatres hussards, et nous disons, que pour conservir nos amis, il ne faut pas faire de credit." The weather was invariably delightful: a bright sun, with a refreshing cool breeze, and an elasticity and lightness in the air, gave animation and cheerfulness to us all. The sky was generally of a cloudless azure, and the nights almost as light and as free from damps as the days: I never beheld the moon in greater majesty. Airaines is an uninteresting little town, not worth mentioning. Our postillion here was a most ruffian-like, cut-throat looking creature, all over dirt, and having a true jacobinical air. He cast several glances full of sullenness and malignity at my companions; so much so, that I felt very thankful we were in the cheerful haunts of men, and not in the solitary Alps, or the black forests of Germany, with such a conductor.
We dined at Granvilliers, where we were waited upon by a little girl of thirteen, fair and lively enough, with an English bloom. She spoke our language remarkably well, although she had only been six months en pension at Amiens, in order to acquire it! Her instructress was a French woman, which is singular, for she seemed to have given her little pupil a perfect knowledge of our idiom, and an excellent accent.
From Granvilliers to Marseille, the country rapidly improves in beauty. Just beyond the latter place we remarked a very fine old chateau, embosomed in extensive woods: it must formerly have belonged to some of the rich noblesse, and perhaps does so still. Near Marseille, vineyards appeared for the first time. We now approached the town of Beauvais, which had a very pretty effect, surrounded by woods, with the cathedral standing proudly conspicuous over all. It just now occurs to me to mention (though not immediately à-propos to Beauvais), that the houses, in most of the French towns and villages we have yet seen, are numbered, and in a singular method; for the several streets are not allowed their numbers, separately reckoned, but they go on counting from the first house in the place to the last, so that it sometimes happens you might be directed to call upon a friend at number 1000, or 2000, and so on. In Paris they have another peculiarity, for the even numbers, such as 2, 4, 6, 8, &c. are all on one side of the street, and the odd ones, 7, 9, 11, &c. on the other.
The country beyond this town, for a considerable distance, was uninteresting, and the lesser towns and villages were very ugly. What was wanting in trees seemed to be made up in windmills, which spread their long arms abroad in every direction. Had Don Quixote been alive, and travelling this road, he would have found himself in the predicament of poor Arlechino, dans l'embarras des richesses.
We now passed through Douay, a clean, gay-looking, strong-built town. It was more than usually alive, from the circumstance of a fair which was going on in the market-place. Among the different articles exposed for sale, I was struck by the cotton handkerchiefs worn by the paysannes. Their richness and beauty of colour were very remarkable, the dyes being brilliant beyond any that we possess, and the patterns very fanciful and pretty. Here the women adopt the same picturesque double gold drops in the ears, as those of Calais; wearing likewise richly-worked heavy crosses upon the bosom, and long loose cloaks, made of coloured linen or black silk, frilled round, with a very deep hood. Two pretty little girls, from twelve to thirteen years of age, had a highly graceful effect, as they passed through the crowd, in white gauze or muslin veils, extremely transparent, and reaching to the ground, thrown carelessly over their heads. They appeared like young sylphs, flitting in all their purity among the gayer, yet grosser, figures which surrounded them.
We arrived in very good time at Lille (frequently spelt Lisle), and entered through a most beautiful gateway of Tuscan architecture. This town is extensive, well built, lively, and interesting: there are excellent shops, with signs of the most fanciful and ingenious devices, like those of Paris. This place is reckoned impregnable, and the citadel is of wonderful strength, being the masterpiece of Vauban, the celebrated engineer. Our inn (l'hotel de Bourbon) was very comfortable in every respect, except that we were bitten by bugs. They, however, are so common in various parts of the continent that the traveller must make up his mind to bear with them as things of course. We were amused by the humour of a valet de place here, who was also hair-dresser and barber: he was a true disciple of the renowned Vicar of Bray, having squared his politics according to every change in the government, and contrived to thrive equally under all. He assured us (as if he had been enumerating his virtues) that Vive la liberté! vive Napoleon! or vivent les Bourbons! was all the same thing to him; and he had constantly held himself in readiness to call out for each, provided they left heads enough for him to find hair to friz, and beards to mow. His countenance made us laugh the moment he appeared, being the counterpart of Liston's, with that peculiar expression of niaiserie which is so irresistibly ludicrous in him. It was no wonder that we were amazed by the number of windmills in the environs of this town; for we learnt that there were no less than two hundred used in making oil, &c.
We quitted Lille the next morning, and in changing horses at Bailleul we discovered that the cap and linchpin of the axletree had fallen off. They were found about a quarter of a mile behind us; and it was very extraordinary that this accident did not occasion our overturn, as the wheel had really no support. The country now began to improve in point of trees and verdure, but still wore an air of formality. A disagreeable patois is spoken here.
The approach to Cassel was very pretty; the trees gradually lost their prim regularity, and formed a rich wood, which entirely covered a high hill, called Mont Cassel. It is the only one in the Netherlands, and commands a most extensive view: no less than twenty-two fortified towns may be discerned from it. Most of the cottages in these environs are thatched, and resemble those in England, each having a little garden (inclosed by neat hedges) full of vegetables. From the summit of the above-mentioned hill, we were much pleased by a prospect of great fertility, and some beauty. Seen from this distance, the artificial mode of planting the trees was not distinguished, and they had a very luxuriant woody effect altogether. Just at the entrance of Cassel is a churchyard, in which we observed a tall crucifix, with a wooden image of our Saviour, larger than life, painted flesh colour, and having a stream of blood flowing from the side (made of a long strip of wire, standing far out in a curve from the body), and which was caught in a cup by another clumsy image (Dutch built) representing a cherubim. The latter was suspended in the air, by some contrivance (not discoverable at that distance), so as to appear flying. Nothing could well be more absurd, or in a worse taste!
We dined and slept at St. Omer, a large town. We found at the inn (l'ancienne Poste) very comfortable accommodations; but it was full of English officers, who had a mess there, and in consequence we could not get a morsel to eat, or a creature to attend upon us, till these messieurs were first served. They were assembled there in readiness for a ball, which was to take place somewhere in the town, at night.
Suffering under the sharpest pangs of hunger, we felt the warmth of our feelings towards our compatriots rather decreasing; but we recovered our nationality after dinner. The next morning we went on to Calais. It was rather a pretty drive the first two stages; the country woody, and the villages much neater than usual. No costume, however, made its appearance (except the long ear-ring and cross), neither could we observe any beauty.
We breakfasted this morning at the small post-house of Ardres. The old dame there told us that the behaviour of the British troops had been most exemplary, and that they would be missed and regretted by some among the natives.
We were now in Picardy, which we understood was more infested with beggars than most other provinces. Some half starved children ran after the carriage, screaming the popular air of Vive Henri Quatre. We gave them a sous or two, purely for the sake of that père de son peuple, whose memory is yet green in their hearts. It is in comparing his species of greatness with that of Napoleon, that I am most forcibly impressed with the inferiority of the latter. The union of talent and benevolence in a sovereign (like that of judgment and imagination in an author) seems almost indispensable; and, at all events, there can be no perfection of character without it. How awfully requisite are both these qualities in the head of an absolute monarchy, and how devoutly to be wished for, even under the less extensively important influence which (like our own) is limited by the laws of the constitution. Those persons, who, from a timid sort of morality, would exalt mere goodness, in opposition to superior talent, seem to me to be thereby counteracting the influence of the very principle upon which they profess to act. Those, on the other hand, who adopt the contrary mode of reasoning are yet worse, for they assert an opinion which is in direct defiance of humanity, morality, and religion. Comparing Napoleon with some of his crowned cotemporaries, I must confess that my admiration of him alarmingly increases; but place him by the side of Henri quatre, and he sinks at once. Madame de Stael has beautifully and justly expressed my own sentiments; I must indulge myself in quoting her eloquent language. Speaking of another political tyrant, (Cardinal Richelieu) she remarks, "On a beaucoup vanté le talent de ce ministre, parce qu'il a maintenu la grandeur politique de la France; et sous ce rapport, on ne sçauroit lui réfuser des talens superieurs! Mais Henri quatre atteignoit au même but, en gouvernant par des principes de justice et de verité! Le génie se manifeste non seulement dans le triomphe qu'on remporte, mais dans les moyens qu'on a pris pour l'obtenir."
Upon approaching Calais, we felt our courage quail beneath the idea of the passage to Dover, which was now so near at hand; but as it never answers any rational purpose to dwell upon disagreeables which are inevitable, and as this transient purgatory was the only means of attaining the paradise of English comforts that awaited us on the other side of the water, we made up our minds, and prepared for our fate with becoming resolution. We were very fortunate in arriving at Quilliac's early in the day, as we had an opportunity of taking possession of a most comfortable suite of apartments, which would not have fallen to our share, half an hour later; for the concourse of equipages which soon followed ours into the inn-yard was quite astonishing. Quilliac's is a magnificent hotel, and seems to be organized in a manner that does credit to the head of the master. They make up from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and sixty beds, and the day of our arrival, they were serving up little separate dinners to a hundred and forty persons, exclusive of servants. Yet the attendance was by no means hurried, or our comforts of any sort diminished, upon that account: every waiter and fille de chambre seemed to know their particular walk, nor could we observe any awkward scrambling or jostling among them.
Determined not again to encounter the annoyance of a crowded packet, we desired inquiries to be made for any family of respectability, who might wish to share a private one with us: fortune befriended us, for we soon beheld some English friends drive into the court, who agreed to join forces, and accordingly we took the Antigone (Capitaine Margollé), between us. She was accounted the best sailer in the harbour, and we found the truth of her reputation confirmed the next morning, when at nine o'clock we all embarked. She brought us into Dover before several other packets, which had sailed from Calais three hours previous to ourselves; but the winds were nevertheless against us, as we were becalmed for seven hours, and the passage lasted altogether ten. I was the only person on board who suffered much; but I speedily forgot all my wretchedness, when I found myself happily landed at Dover, and seated by an English fireside.
We left that place the next day (October 8th), and felt that however we might justly admire foreign countries, our native land possessed a charm above all others, for the hearts of its children. We were delighted by the richness of the woods, and the smiling fertility of the landscape between Canterbury and Sittingbourne, and also by the peculiar air of neatness and cleanliness displayed in every cottage and house, both in the towns and villages: their superiority in these respects to those of France was very apparent; but I could not help being struck by the different costume, countenance and air of the lower classes of my countrywomen, from what I had been used to behold for the last few weeks among the daughters of the continent. The former certainly did (since the truth must be told) appear what is called dowdy and heavy, and the general expression of face was somewhat sullen, in comparison. I also greatly missed the brilliant dark eye, and the charming shadowy eyelash, which is generally to be met with abroad.
We were once more gratified by the pre-eminent swiftness, ease, and dexterity of our English mode of posting; the horses really seemed to fly, and their spruce effect, together with that of their drivers, contrasted favourably with those we had left on the other side the channel.
Passing through Rochester, to Dartford, the river Thames presented a most imposing spectacle, being covered with innumerable vessels in full sail, bound for London. A foreigner must have been impressed with a superb idea of our commercial wealth and glory.
At length we reached home late in the evening, and, full of grateful pleasure for all we had enjoyed during our absence from it, returned to the worship of our Penates with all the fervour and sincerity of true hearted, though not wrong headed, Britons.
NOTES
Note (A.) page 109, line 18
Aromatic plants
Near the summits of these mountains, and in the highest region of vegetation, is found the gennipi, a plant of the camomile genus, and which, next to the sang du bouquetin, or wild goat (which, as an inhabitant of these places, though now a very rare one, is worthy of mention), is the most powerful sudorific, and of high estimation in the treatment of pleurisy.
Note (B.) page 127, line 21
The Devil's Bridge – Pont du Diable
We cannot too much admire the boldness and skill with which this extraordinary work has been achieved in such a country, and one knows not in what age. The marvellous histories believed concerning it by the credulous peasantry are scarcely to be wondered at. Suffice it to say, that its dimensions are a single arch of twenty-four feet in the span, fourteen wide, and seventy-two above the surface of the stream; but in this circumstance alone (considered without reference to the wild sublimity of the surrounding scenery), there is nothing extraordinary to English eyes, who may view the whole width of the Thames at London embraced by three arches of such stupendous dimensions.
Note (C.) page 131, line 17
Mont Cenis
Upon the plain of Mont Cenis are found large masses of the gypsum, or alabaster, from which the plaster of Paris is made. The more sheltered parts are bright with the flowers of the rhododendron ferrugineum, which I have in another part of my work described. Quantities of the beautiful little blue butterfly, called the argus, are seen here, and (though not so common) that fine fly, named l'Apollon des Alpes. Besides the great wild goat (le bouquetin), there are in these mountains the chamois, with the marmottes, which require bold and active chasseurs to be got at: they are shot by single ball. The whistling sort of cry of the marmotte resembles that of some birds of prey. It is the signal they give upon being alarmed. When fat, they are considered as rather delicate food. We saw one unfortunate little animal of this species in a tame state, belonging to a peasant boy, who had taught it to shoulder a stick like a firelock, and to twirl itself about in a manner difficult to describe, that he called dancing. He sung at the same time, to animate the poor creature's reluctant exertions, a little patois song, in which the words dansez a madama were frequently repeated. The tune haunted me for some time afterwards, and was really not inharmonious.
Note (D.) page 159, line 2
Consists in their vineyards
There is something awfully striking in the sudden devastation occasioned by the summer storms, too frequent in these climates. In the same garden where at noon you had been walking under the shade of pergolas (i. e. latticed frames of wood, the roofs of which were fretted with innumerable and rich clusters of grapes) surrounded by fig and peach trees full of fruit, you would often find in the evening the whole ground strewed with broken branches, their fruit quite crushed, and hardly a leaf left upon them.
Note (E.) page 231, line 19
Ague and fever
We were induced, by the opinion of several persons to whom we related this indisposition, to believe that it was most probably brought on by the sudden transition from the intense heat of the shores of the Lago Maggiore to the equally intolerable cold of the Simplon. Mr. B. was not provided with that additional clothing which might have obviated the ill effects of the latter. The complaint, however, went off very quickly in the subsequent health-inspiring air of Switzerland.
Note (F.) page 237, line 8
Mont St. Bernard
Before Bonaparte formed his magnificent passage across the Simplon, one of the principal roads from Switzerland into Italy lay over this grand mountain. Our line of road did not permit us to visit it, which we much regretted. It was always highly interesting, from the histories, both ancient and modern, which belong to it. By this route it is supposed that Hannibal led his army over the Alps; not by softening the rocks with vinegar, but by refreshing his fatigued troops by a mixture of it with water. He is said also to have founded here a splendid temple, dedicated to Jupiter. It is certain that several remains of antiquity, medals, inscriptions, sacrificial instruments, &c. have been found here, and are preserved in the museum at Turin. That the modern Hannibal, with or without vinegar, led his army over the St. Bernard, we too well know. Of the baths of Loësche, in the Upper Valais, we also heard much; but of these, as well as the Grand St. Bernard, I can only speak from the description of others. Notwithstanding the difficult roads which lead to the baths, they are much frequented, and are, we were told, justly celebrated for their salutary effects. It must be truly curious to see water too hot to bear the hand in, of the temperature of 43 degrees of Reaumur (boiling water being 80), springing from the earth in the midst of this icy country; a phenomenon, however, with which those travellers who have frequented still colder parts of the world are perfectly well acquainted. This water has the peculiar quality of restoring faded flowers to life and freshness, and of preserving them so for some time, when one would rather imagine that it would boil them. I do not here mean to offer a poetical allusion to female beauty, but merely to relate a literal fact. The mode of bathing is too singular not to mention, although I cannot say much of its delicacy. There are four square open divisions, in which twenty or thirty persons of both sexes (attired, as properly as may be, in flannel dresses) bathe all together. They sit very comfortably for half an hour, with a small desk before each, upon which they have their books, and little planks are seen floating on the water, full of holes, in which fragrant flowers and branches of verdure are inserted.
Note (G.) page 238, line 12
A celebrated waterfall – Cascade of the Pisse Vache
There are several of the same name in Switzerland; but this, I believe, is reckoned the most remarkable. In the neighbourhood of these mountains, one sees with pleasure the industry of man repaid by considerable fertility. The cottages are comfortable, and surrounded with orchards of various fruit-trees. The natural and ungrafted cherry, called mérise, is much cultivated in these parts. It is from this fruit that the famed kirschenwasser, or cherry-water, is made, and which is not only an agreeable cordial, but a valuable medicine among the peasantry, subsisting, as they do, so much upon a crude and milky diet, not easy of digestion. It was offered to Mr. B. during his illness, by a rustic host, with strong commendations.
Note (H.) page 268, line 17
Glaciers
The height of these glaciers, at their utmost point, is 9268 feet above the level of the sea. Voltaire might well say,
"Ces monts sourcilleux,
Qui pressent les enfers, et qui fendent les cieux."
But there is another point of view in which the natural philosopher will contemplate these stupendous mountains with admiration and gratitude: I mean as being the immense and inexhaustible reservoirs of those springs and rivers which make so essential a part in the beautiful and beneficial economy of nature. In these particular regions will be found the sources of the Rhone, the Rhine, and the Tessin, with a multitude of other rivers; and some idea of the enormous quantity of water that they produce may be formed from the known fact, that the magnificent lake of Geneva (measuring above twenty-six square leagues) is raised ten feet and a half, by the mere melting of the snows during the summer. Strawberries of the finest flavour may be gathered almost at the very edge of the ice, and the adjoining woods are full of wild flowers.
Note (I.) page 271, line 14
Mines of gold, silver, and lead
It has been thought by some, that it is not so much from the poverty of the state as from a moral policy that the exploration of these dangerous productions has been purposely discouraged. This is the nobler reason of the two. Haller (the favourite poet of the Swiss) in his poem on the Alps, exclaims, "The shepherd of the Alps sees these treasures flow beneath his feet – what an example to mankind! he lets them flow on." And he feels a security in the rude simplicity of his country, that holds out nothing to tempt the invasion of avarice or ambition —
"Tout son front hérissé, n'offre aux desirs de l'homme
Rien qui puisse tenter l'avarice de Rome."
Crebillon, dans Rhadamiste.
Note (J.) page 273, line 11
For which this place is celebrated
Among other interesting objects to be seen here are the cabinets of natural history of Monsieur de Saussure, so well known for his scientific and enterprising researches, and of Monsieur de Luc. Petrifactions of the oursis, or sea hedgehog, and of the corni d'ammon, are preserved in this collection, which were found in the Alps of Savoy, 7844 feet above the level of the sea.
Note (K.) page 275, line 12
Powerless and inadequate
It will not, I am sure, be unacceptable to the reader if I here transcribe part of the beautiful description to which I have alluded. Speaking (in Letter 23) of the exhilarating but soothing effect of the mountain air, he says – "Il semble qu'en s'elevant au-dessûs du sejour des hommes, on y laisse tous les sentimens bas et terrestres; et qu'à mesure qu'on approche des regions ethereés, l'ame contracte quelque chose de leur inalterable pureté: on y est grave sans melancholie, paisible sans indolence, content d'être et de penser. Les plaisirs y sont moins ardens, les passions plus modereés. Tous les desirs trop vifs, s'emoussent; ils perdent cette point aigue qui les rendent douloureux; il ne laissent au fond du cœur qu'une emotion legère et douce, et c'est ainsi qu'un heureux climat, fait servir à la felicité de l'homme, les passions qui font ailleurs son tourment." Without being so unfortunate as to possess Rousseau's irritable temper and fiery passions, any person of sensibility must be forcibly struck by the truth of these remarks, in passing through the same scenes.
Note (L.) page 291, line 21
Lake of Morat
This lake in severe winters freezes sufficiently to bear the heaviest loads. There is a popular and vulgar idea in the country, that whoever falls into this lake can no more be recovered; but another quality attached to it (of rather superior probability) is, that its fish are of so excellent a nature, as to sell, in time of Lent, at two creutzers a pound dearer than those of any other. One cannot see without surprise, and even a degree of indignant concern, that the ancient chapel, containing the bones of the Bourguignons, slain by the Swiss (then the allies of Louis XI.) in 1476, should be no longer in existence. These remains of mortality were, when we beheld them, thrown upon the ground, totally unsheltered from the air, in a most careless and irreverent manner. Formerly (I have heard) the inhabitants of Morat used to celebrate the anniversary of this national triumph with feast and song. Voltaire, in his "Mélange de Poesies," alludes to this triumph of liberty in some truly elevated lines.
Note (M.) page 293, line 2
Tan-coloured wood
This is the cleft fir of which the cottages here are constructed. They have galleries running round the outsides, protected by the projecting roofs. Sometimes thatch is used; but in the more mountainous parts of the country they are tiled (if I may be allowed the expression) with pieces of slit wood, which are kept firm by the weight of large stones lying upon them: the whole having a most picturesque appearance. The wide projection of these roofs not only secures their galleries from the snows, but affords convenient shelter for their fire-wood and various other articles. A granary is sometimes built over the dwelling-rooms at the top of these houses, which is rendered attainable by means of a sort of bridge (moveable, I rather think), upon which we ourselves witnessed the singular spectacle of a cart and horses conveying a load of grain to this exalted store-chamber. These wooden fabrics, although one would not suppose so, are warmer than those of brick or stone; but then, in case of fire, its ravage is dreadful, from the quantity of turpentine contained in the fir planks.
Note (N.) page 295, line 24
The Alps
The Alps of Switzerland are certainly the highest points of Europe. But however elevated these mountains may be, and removed as they now are, a hundred leagues from the sea, there can be no doubt of their having once been covered by its waters. This is clearly demonstrated by the fossile maritime remains which are found in some of their highest parts, as well as by those of shells, fishes, and animals, now only existing in other quarters of the globe. What astonishing changes the surface of our earth has undergone in periods anterior to the Mosaic history, may be contemplated from the circumstance of the petrified trunk of the palm-tree, and the bones of elephants, being found in Siberia.
Note (O.) page 308, line 1
William Tell
Although the limited time for our tour did not permit us to visit either the Lac de Thoun, or the village of Kussnacht, both of them consecrated in the eyes of the Swiss, by the chapels built there in memory of Guillaume Tell, travellers must not leave Switzerland without some mention of this renowned patriot. It was at the latter place that the tyrant Ghessler fell by his hand. There is (we were told) a tolerably painted representation of the occurrence on the walls of the chapel, and under it the following inscription in German verse, the French translation of which is this:
"Ici a eté tué par Tell, l'orgueilleux Ghessler. Ici est le berceau de la noble liberté des Suisses, 1307. Combien durerâ t'elle? Encore long tems, pourvu que nous ressemblions à nos ancêtres."
Note (P.) page 215, line 13
The rhododendron
This is the rhododendron ferrugineum, which is not much cultivated in our gardens.
Note (Q.) page 216, line 18
Over the doors
What a stupendous conception must the reader form to himself of this range of mountains, when I tell him, that the ascent and descent make together forty-two miles.
Note (R.) page 312, line 25
Soleure
Near Soleure is the hermitage of St. Frêne. No traveller, I am assured, should miss seeing this beautiful and romantic spot. That we unfortunately did so was owing only to our not having been previously aware of its existence.
Note (S.) page 332, line 12
Avenue as usual
I ought (in justice) to have recollected, when I exclaimed so much against them, that in forming these roads, convenience, not taste, was consulted. No one can be more grateful to the powers of convenience than myself; but it is difficult to reconcile a lover of the picturesque to so cruel a divorce between the utile et dolce.
