Mais enfin, sur l"aile du temps, On arrive au but du voyage, Et l"on voit la glace des ans, Couronner nos fronts a cet age; S"il fut sensible a la pitie, S"il cultiva la bienfaisance, Entre les bras de l"amitie L"homme finit ... sans qu"il y pense
You must know that they are here great lovers of royalty, and of course great supporters of the Bourbon Family. The King"s printer is a Mons. BReE l"Aine. He is a very pleasant, well-bred man, and lives in the _Place Trinite_. I have paid him more than one visit, and always felt additional pleasure at every repet.i.tion of it. My first visit was marked with a somewhat ludicrous circ.u.mstance. On entering the compositors" room, I observed, pasted upon the walls, in large capital letters, the following well known words:
G.o.d SAVE THE KING.
Both Monsieur Bree l"Aine--and his workmen were equally gratified by my notice and commendation of this sentiment. "It is the favourite sentiment, Sir, of your country,"--remarked the master. To this I readily a.s.sented.
"It is also, Sir, the favourite one of our own," replied M. Bree l"Aine--and his men readily attested their concurrence in the same reply.
"Ah, Sir, if you would only favour us by _singing the air_, to which these words belong, you would infinitely oblige us all" ... said a shrewd and intelligent-looking compositor. "With all my heart"--rejoined I--"but I must frankly tell you, that I shall sing it rather with heart than with voice--being neither a vocal nor an instrumental performer." "No matter: give us only a notion of it." They all stood round in a circle, and I got through two stanzas as gravely and as efficiently as I was able. The usual "charmant!" followed my exertions. It was now my turn to ask a favour.
"Sing to me your favourite national air of ROBERT and ARLETTE." "Most willingly, Sir," replied the forementioned "shrewd and intelligent-looking compositor." "Tenez: un pet.i.t moment: je vais chercher mon violon. Ca ira mieux."
He left the house in search of his violin. The tune of the National air which he sung was both agreeable and lively: and upon the whole it was difficult to say which seemed to be the better pleased with the respective national airs. M. Bree shewed me his premises in detail. They had been formerly a portion of an old church; and are situated on the edge of the great fosse which encircles the town. A garden, full of sweet blooming flowers, is behind them; and the view backwards is cheerful and picturesque. There are generally five presses at work; which, for a provincial printing office, shews business to be far from slack. Mons. B.
sells a great number of almanacks, and prints all the leading publications connected with the town. In fact, his t.i.tle, as _Imprimeur du Roi_, supposes him to take the princ.i.p.al lead as a printer. This agreeable man has a brother who is professor of rhetoric in the College Royale at Paris.
Of _Bouquinistes_, or dealers in old books, there are scarcely any. I spent three or four fruitless hours in a search after old chronicles and old poetry: and was compelled, almost from pure civility, to purchase of DUFOURS a _Pet.i.t"s Virgil_ of 1529, folio--which will be hardly worth the carriage. I tried hard for a fine copy of _Fauchet"s Origines de la Poesie Francoise_, 1581, 4to. with the head of the author, but in vain; yet endeavoured to console myself by an old blue morocco copy of _Les regrets et tristes lamentations du Comte de Montgomery_, by _Demorenne_, Rouen, 1574, 8vo. as well as a clean, fresh, and almost crackling copy of _Amoureuses occupations de la Taysonniere_, Lyon, 1555, 8vo.--for two francs each--and both destined for the rich and choice library of our friend....
Thus much for FALAISE: for a spot, which, from the uniform serenity of the weather since I have been here--from the comfort of the inn--from the extreme civility and attention of the townspeople--and from the yet more interesting society of the Comte de la Fresnaye, the _Cures_ Mouton and Langevin--together with the amenity of the surrounding country, and the interesting and in part magnificent remains of antiquity--can never be erased from my recollection. It is here that the tourist and antiquary may find objects for admiration and materials for recording. I have done both: admired and recorded--happy, if the result of such occupations shall have contributed to the substantial gratification of yourself and of our common friends. And now, farewell; not only to Falaise, but to NORMANDY. I shall leave it, from this delightful spot, in the most thorough good humour, and with more than ordinary regret that my stay has necessarily been short. I have taken my place in the Diligence, direct for PARIS. "Il n"y a qu"un Paris"--said the Comte de la Fresnaye to me the other day, when I told him I had never been there--to which I replied, "Are there then TWO Londons?"
Thirty-six hours will settle all this. In the mean time, adieu.
[169] On the return of Louis the XVIII. the town of Falaise manifested its loyalty in the most unequivocal manner.
COUPLETS
_Chantes par les Eleves du College de Falaise, en arborant le Drapeau Blanc_.
Air: _Un Soldat par un coup funeste_.
Loin de nous la sombre tristesse, Mars a depose sa fureur; Enfin la foudre vengeresse Vient de terra.s.ser _l"opresseur,_ L"aigle sanguinaire Succombe a l"aspect de ces LYS.
Peuple francais, tu vas revoir ton Pere!
Vive le Roi! Vive LOUIS!
Drapeau, que d"horribles tempetes Avoient eloigne de ces lieux, Tu reviens embellir nos Fetes, Plus brillant et plus radieux!
Ta douce presence Ramene les jeux et les ris; Sois a jamais l"Etendard de la France, Vive le Roi! vive LOUIS!
O Dieu! vengeur de l"innocence, Protege ces LYS glorieux!
Conserve long-temps a la France LE ROI que tu rends a nos voeux!
Si la perfidie De nouveau troubloit ton bonheur Viens nous guider, o Banniere cherie!
Nous volerons au champ d"honneur.
[170] The worthy historian of Falaise, quoted in a preceding page, is exceedingly anxious to make us believe that there are portions of this church--namely, four stones--in the eastern and western gable ends--which were used in the consecration of it, by MATHILDA, the wife of our first William. Also, that, at the gable end of the south transept, outside, an ancient grotto,--in which the Gallic priests of old purified themselves for the mysteries of their religion--is now converted into the sacristy, or vestry, or robing room. But these are surely mere antiquarian dreams. The same author more sagaciously informs us that the exact period of the commencement of the building of the nave, namely in 1438, is yet attested by an existing inscription, in gothic letters, towards the chief door of entrance.
The inscription also testifies that in the same year, "there reigned DEATH, WAR, and FAMINE." The _chancel of the choir_, with the princ.i.p.al doors of entrance, &c. were constructed between the years 1520, and 1540. It may be worth remarking that the stalls of the choir were brought from the Abbey of St. John--on the destruction of that monastic establishment in 1729; and that, according to the _Gallia Christiana_, vol. xi. p. 756, these stalls were carved at the desire of Thomas II. de Mallebiche, abbot of that establishment in 1506-1516.
In a double niche of the south b.u.t.tress are the statues of HERPIN and his WIFE; rich citizens of Falaise, who, by their wealth, greatly contributed to the building of the choir. (Their grandson, HERPIN LACHENAYE, together with his mistress were killed, side by side, in fighting at one of the gates of Falaise to repel the successful troops of Henry IV.) The _Chapel of the Virgin_, behind the choir, was completed about the year 1631. LANGEVIN, p. 81-128-131.
[171] We have of course nothing to do with the first erection of a place of worship at Guibray in the VIIIth century. The story connected with the earliest erection is this. The faubourg of Guibray, distant about 900 paces from Falaise, was formerly covered with chestnut and oak trees.
A sheep, scratching the earth, as if by natural instinct (I quote the words of M. Langevin the historian of Falaise) indicated, by its bleatings, that something was beneath. The shepherd approached, and hollowing out the earth with his crook, discovered a statue of the Virgin, with a child in its arms. The first church, dedicated to the Virgin, under the reign of Charles Martel, called the Victorious, was in consequence erected--on this very spot--in the centre of this widely spreading wood of chestnut and oak. I hasten to the construction of a second church, on the same site, under the auspices of Mathilda, the wife of the Conqueror: with the statue of a woman with a diadem upon her head--near one of the pillars: upon which statue Langevin discourses learnedly in a note. But neither this church nor the statue in question are now in existence. On the contrary, the oldest portions of the church of Guibray, now existing--according to the authors of the _Gallia Christiana_, vol.
xi. p. 878, and an ancient MS. consulted by M. Langevin--are of about the date of 1222; when the church was consecrated by the Bishop of Coutances. The open s.p.a.ce towards the south, now called _La Place aux Chevaux_, was the old burying ground of the church. There was also a chapel, dedicated to St. Gervais, which was pillaged and destroyed by the Hugonots in 1562. I should add, that the South-East exterior (behind the chancel) of this very curious old church at Guibray, resembles, upon a small scale, what M. Cotman has published of the same portion of St. Georges de Bocherville. _Recherches sur Falaise_, p. 49-53. Monsieur le Comte de la Fresnaye, in his _Notice Historique sur Falaise_, 1816, 8vo. will have it, that "the porch of this church, the only unmutilated portion remaining of its ancient structure, demonstrates the epoch of the origin of Christianity among the Gauls."
"At least, such is the decision of M. Deveze, draftsman for Laborde; the latter of whom now Secretary to the Count d"Artois, inst.i.tuted a close examination of the whole fabric." p. 5-6. I hope there are not many such conclusions to be found in the magnificent and meritorious productions of LABORDE.
[172] This fair lasts full fifteen days. The first eight days are devoted to business of a more important nature--which they call the GREAT WEEK: that is to say, the greatest number of merchants attend during the earlier part of it; and contracts of greater extent necessarily take place. The remaining seven days are called the LITTLE WEEK--in which they make arrangements to carry their previous bargains into effect, and to return home. Men and merchandise, from all quarters, and of all descriptions, are to be seen at this fair. Even Holland and Germany are not wanting in sending their commercial representatives.
Jewellery and grocery seem to be the chief articles of commerce; but there is a prodigious display of silk, linen, and cotton, &c.: as well as of hides, raw and tanned; porcelaine and earthen ware. The live cattle market must not be forgotten. Langevin says that, of horses alone, they sometimes sell full four thousand. Thus much for the buyer and seller. But this fair is regularly enlivened by an immense confluence of n.o.bility and gentry from the adjacent country--to partake of the amus.e.m.e.nts, which, (as with the English,) form the invariable appendages of the scene. Langevin mentions the minor fairs of _Ste. Croix, St. Michel_, and _St. Gervais_, which help to bring wealth into the pockets of the inhabitants. _Recherches Historiques sur Falaise_; p. 199, &c.
[173] [Since the publication of this Tour, the amiable Mons. Langevin has published "additions" to his historical account of Falaise; and in those additions, he has been pleased to notice the account which is HERE given of his labours and character. It would be bad--at least hardly justifiable--taste, to quote that notice: yet I cannot dissemble the satisfaction to find that there is _more_ than ONE sympathising heart in Normandy, which appreciates this record of its excellence. I subjoin, therefore, with the greatest satisfaction, a fac-simile of the autograph of this amiable and learned man, as it appears written (at my request) in the t.i.tle-page of a copy of his "Researches."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Langevin ptre.]
LETTER XXI.
JOURNEY TO PARIS. DREUX. HOUDAN. VERSAILLES. ENTRANCE INTO PARIS.
_Paris, Rue Faubourg Poissoniere, May_ 30, 1819.
"Time and the hour runs through the roughest day." They must be protacted miseries indeed which do not, at some period or other, have something like a termination. I am here, then my good friend--safe and sound at last; comfortably situated in a boarding house, of which the mistress is an agreeable Englishwoman and the master an intelligent Swiss. I have sauntered, gazed, and wondered--and exchanged a thousand gracious civilities! I have delivered my epistolary credentials: have shaken hands with Monsieur Van Praet; have paced the suite of rooms in which the renowned BIBLIOTHEQUE DU ROI is deposited: have traversed the _Thuileries_ and the _Louvre_; repeatedly reconnoitred the _Boulevards_; viewed the gilt dome of the _Hotel des Invalides_, and the white flag upon the bronze-pillar in the _Place Vendome_; seen crowds of our countrymen at _Meurice"s_ and in the hotels about the _Rue de la Paix;_ partaken of the rival ices of _Tortoni_ and the _Caffe des Mille Colonnes_; bought old French poetry at a Bouquiniste"s: and drank Chambertin and Champagne at the richly garnished table of our ----. These are what may be called good _foreground objects_ in the composition of a Parisian picture. Now for the filling up of the canvas with appropriate and harmonizing detail.
A second reflection corrects however the precipitancy of such a proposal; for it cannot be, in this my _first_ despatch, that you are to receive any thing like an adequate notion of the topics thus hastily thrown together on the first impulse of Parisian inspiration. Wait patiently, therefore: and at least admire the methodical precision of my narrative. My last letter left me on the eve of departure from Falaise; and it is precisely from that place that I take up the thread of my journal. We were to leave it, as I told you, in the Diligence--on the evening of the Sunday, immediately following the date of the despatch transmitted. I shall have reason to remember that journey for many a day to come; but, "post varios casus, &c."
I am thankful to find myself safely settled in my present comfortable abode. The Sabbath, on the evening of which the Diligence usually starts for Paris, happened to be a festival. Before dawn of day I heard incessant juvenile voices beneath the window of my bedroom at the Grand Turc; What might this mean? Between three and four, as the day began to break, I rose, and approaching the window, saw, from thence, a number of little boys and girls busied in making artificial flower-beds and sand-borders, &c. Their tongues and their bodily movements were equally unintermitting. It was impossible for a stranger to guess at the meaning of such a proceeding; but, opening the window, I thought there could be no harm in asking a very simple question--which I will confess to you was put in rather an irritable manner on my part ... for I had been annoyed by their labours for more than the last hour. "What are you about, there?" I exclaimed--"Ha, is it you Sir?" replied a little arch boy--mistaking me for some one else. "Yes, (resumed I) tell me what you are about there?" "in truth, we are making _Reposoirs_ for the FETE-DIEU: the Host will pa.s.s this way by and bye. Is it not a pretty thing, Sir?" exclaimed a sweetly modulated female voice.
All my irritability was softened in a moment; and I was instantly convinced that Solomon never delivered a wiser sentiment than when he said--"A soft answer turneth away wrath!" I admitted the prettiness of the thing without comprehending a particle of it: and telling them to speak in a lower key, shut the window, and sought my bed. But sleep had ceased to seek me: and the little urchins, instead of lowering their voices, seemed to break forth in a more general and incessant vociferation. In consequence, I was almost feverish from restlessness--when the fille de chambre announced that "it was eight o"clock, and the morning most beautiful."
These _reposoirs_ are of more importance than you are aware of. They consist of little spots, or s.p.a.ces in the streets, garnished with flowers, and intersected by walks, marked with fine gravel, in the centre of which the Host rests, on its pa.s.sing to and fro from the several parishes. When I rose to dress, I observed the work of art--which had been in progress during the night--perfectly complete. Pa.s.sengers were forbidden to trespa.s.s by pieces of string fastened to different parts by way of a fence--or, whoever chose to walk within, considered themselves bound to deposit a sous as the condition of gratifying their curiosity. Upon the whole, this reposoir might be about sixteen feet square. Towards eleven o"clock the different religious ceremonies began. On one side the noise of the drum, and the march of the national guard, indicated that military ma.s.s was about to be performed; on the other, the procession of priests, robed and officiating--the elevation of banners--and the sonorous responses of both laity and clergy--put the whole town into agitation, and made every inmate of every mansion thrust his head out of window, to gaze at the pa.s.sing spectacle. We were among the latter denomination of lookers on, and recognised, with no small gratification, our clerical friends Messieurs Mouton, Langevin, and the huge father confessor at Guibra, followed by a great number of respectable citizens, among whom the Comte de la Fresnaye and his amiable and intelligent son (recently married) made most respectable figures; They approached the reposoir in question. The priests, with the Host, took their station within it; silence followed; one officiating clergyman then knelt down; shut, what seemed to be, the wooden covers of a book,--with, considerable violence--rose--turned round, and the procession being again put in motion--the whole marched away to the church of the Holy Trinity;--whither I followed it; and where I witnessed what I was unable to comprehend, and what I should not feel much disposed to imitate. But let every country be allowed to reverence and respect its own particular religious ceremonies. We may endure what we cannot commend ...
and insult and disrespect are among the last actions which a well regulated mind will shew in its treatment of such matters. I should add, that these reposoirs, a few hours after the performance of the ceremony just described, are indiscriminately broken up: the flowers and the little sand banks falling equally a prey to the winds and the feet of the pa.s.senger.
Opposite to the inn was an hospital for the female sick. It had been formerly an establishment of very considerable extent and celebrity; but whether it was originally connected with the hospital of the _Leproserie de Saint Lasare_, (about which the Abbe Langevin"s History of Falaise is rather curious) the _Hotel-Dieu_, or the _Hopital General_, I cannot take upon me to p.r.o.nounce. Certain it is, however, that this establishment does great credit to those who have the conduct of it. As foreigners, and particularly as Englishmen, we were permitted to see the whole, without reserve. On my return from witnessing the ceremony at the church of the Trinity, I visited this hospital: my companion having resumed his graphic operations before the Castle. I shall not easily forget the face and figure of the matron. To a countenance of masculine feature, and masculine complexion--including no ordinary growth of beard, of a raven tint--she added a st.u.r.dy, squat, muscular figure--which, when put into action, moved in a most decided manner. A large bunch of ma.s.sive keys was suspended from a girdle at her side; and her dress, which was black, was rendered more characteristic and striking, by the appearance of, what are yet called, _bustles_ above her hips. As she moved, the keys and the floor seemed equally to shake beneath her steps. The elder Smirke would have painted this severe Duenna-like looking matron with inimitable force and truth.
But ... she no sooner opened her mouth, than all traits of severity vanished. Her voice was even musical, and her "facon de parler" most gracious. She shewed me the whole establishment with equal good humour and alertness; and I don"t know when I ever made such a number of bows (to the several female patients in the wards) within such limited time and s.p.a.ce. The whole building has the air of a convent; and there were several architectural relics, perhaps of the end of the fifteenth century, which I only regretted were not of portable dimensions; as, upon making enquiry, little objection seemed to be made to the gratuitous disposal of them.
The hour for departure, after sun-set, having arrived, we were summoned to the Diligence when, bidding adieu to the very worthy host and hostess of the _Grand Turc_, (whom I strongly recommend all Englishmen to visit) I made up my mind for a thirty-six hour"s journey--as I was to reach Paris on Tuesday morning. The day had been excessively hot for the season of the year; and the night air was refreshing. But after a few s.n.a.t.c.hes of sleep--greatly needed--there appeared manifest symptoms of decay and downfall in the gloomy and comfortless machine in which we took our departure. In other words, towards daylight, and just as we approached _L"Aigle_, the left braces (which proved to be thoroughly rotted leather) broke in two: and down slid, rather than tumbled, the Falaise Diligence!
There were two French gentlemen, and an elderly lady, besides ourselves in the coach. While we halted, in order to repair the machine, the Frenchmen found consolation in their misfortune by running to a caffe, (it was between four and five in the morning), rousing the master and mistress, and as I thought, peremptorily and impertinently asking for coffee: while they amused themselves with billiards during its preparation. I was in no humour for eating, drinking, or playing: for here was a second sleepless night!
Having repaired this crazy vehicle, we rumbled on for _Verneuil_; where it was exchanged for a diligence of more capacious dimensions. Here, about eleven o"clock, we had breakfast; and from henceforth let it not be said that the art of eating and drinking belongs exclusively to our country:--for such manifestations of appet.i.te, and of attack upon substantials as well as fluids, I had scarcely ever before witnessed. I was well contented with coffee, tea, eggs, and bread--as who might not well be?... but my companions, after taking these in flank, cut through the centre of a roast fowl and a dish of stewed veal: making diversions, in the mean while, upon sundry bottles of red and white wine; the fingers, during the meal, being as instrumental as the white metal forks.
We set off at a good round trot for _Dreux_: and, in the route thither, we ascended a long and steep hill, having _Nonancourt_ to the left. Here we saw some very pretty country houses, and the whole landscape had an air of English comfort and picturesque beauty about it. Here, too, for the first time, I saw a VINEYARD. At this early season of the year it has a most stiff and unseemly look; presenting to the eye scarcely any thing but the brown sticks, obliquely put into the ground, against which the vine is trained. But the sloping banks, on each side of the ascending road, were covered with plantations of this precious tree; and I was told that, if the _autumn_ should prove as auspicious as appeared the _spring_, there would be a season of equal gaiety and abundance. I wished it with all my heart.
Indeed I felt particularly interested in the whole aspect of the country about _Nonancourt_. The sun was fast descending as we entered the town of _Dreux_--where I had resolved upon taking leave both of the diligence and of my companions; and of reaching Paris by post. At seven we dined, or rather perhaps made an early supper; when my fellow travellers _sustained_ their reputation for their powers of attack upon fish, flesh, and fowl.
Indeed the dinner was equally plentiful and well cooked; and the charge moderate in proportion. But there is nothing, either on the score of provision of reasonableness of cost, like the _table d"hote_ throughout France; and he who cannot accommodate himself to the hour of dining (usually about one) must make up his mind to worse fare and treble charges.
After dinner we strolled in the town, and upon the heights near the castle.
We visited the princ.i.p.al church, _St. Jean_, which is very s.p.a.cious, and upon the whole is a fine piece of architecture. I speak more particularly of the interior--where I witnessed, however, some of the most horrible devastations, arising from the Revolution, which I had yet seen. In one of the side chapels, there _had been_ a magnificent monument; perhaps from sixteen to twenty feet in height--crowded with figures as large as life, from the base to the summit. It appeared as if some trenchant instrument of an irresistible force, had shaved away many of the figures; but more especially the heads and the arms. This was only one, but the most striking, specimen of revolutionary Vandalism. There were plenty of similar proofs, on a reduced scale. In the midst of these traces of recent havoc, there was a pleasure mingled with melancholy, in looking up and viewing some exceedingly pretty specimens of old stained gla.s.s:--which had escaped the destruction committed in the lower regions, and had preserved all their original freshness. Here and there, in the side chapels, the priests were robing themselves to attend confession; while the suppliants, in kneeling att.i.tudes, were expecting them by the side of the confessionals. From the church I bent my steps to the princ.i.p.al bookseller of the place, whom I found to be an intelligent, civil, and extremely good-natured tradesman.
But his stock was too modern. "Donnez vous la peine de monter"--exclaimed he precipitately; begging me to follow him. His up-stairs collection was scarcely of a more ancient character than that below. There were more copies of _Voltaire_ and _Rousseau_ than I should have supposed he could sell in six years--but "on the contrary" (said he) "in six months" time, not a single copy will remain unsold!" I marvelled and grieved at such intelligence; because the poison was not extracted from the nourishment contained in these works. To an enquiry about my old typographical friends, _Verard, Pigouchet_, and _Eustace_, the worthy bibliopole replied "qu"il n"avoit jamais entendu parler de ces gens-la!" Again I marvelled; and having no temptation to purchase, civilly wished him good evening.
Meanwhile Mr. L. had attained the castle heights, and was lost in a sort of extacy at the surrounding scene. On entering the outer walls, and directing your steps towards the summit, you are enchanted with a beautiful architectural specimen--in the character of a zigzag early Norman arch--which had originally belonged to a small church, recently taken down: The arch alone stands insulated ... beyond which, a new, and apparently a very handsome, church is erecting, chiefly under the care and at the expence of the present Duke of Orleans;--as a mausoleum for his family--and in which, not many days before our arrival, the remains of one of his children had been deposited. I wished greatly for a perfect drawing of this arch ... but there was no time ... and my companion was exercising his pencil, on the summit, by a minute, bird"s eye of the sweep of country to be seen from this elevated situation--through the greater part of which, indeed, the diligence from _Verneuil_ had recently conducted us. I should add, that not a relic of that CASTLE, which had once kept the town and the adjacent country in awe, is now to be seen: but its outer walls enclose a s.p.a.ce hardly less than twenty acres:--the most considerable area which I had yet witnessed. To give a more interesting character to the scenery, the sun, broad and red, was just hiding the lower limb of his disk behind the edge of a purple hill. A quiet, mellow effect reigned throughout the landscape. I gazed on all sides; and (wherefore, I cannot now say) as I sunk upon the gra.s.s, overwhelmed with fatigue and the la.s.situde of two sleepless nights, wished, in my heart, I could have seen the effect of that glorious sun-set from, the heights of Dover. Now and then, as when at school, one feels a little home-sick; but the melancholy mood which then possessed me was purely a physical effect from a physical cause. The shadows of evening began to succeed to the glow of sun-set--when, starting from my rec.u.mbent position, (in which sleep was beginning to surprise me) I hastened down the heights, and by a nearer direction sought the town and our hotel. We retired betimes to rest--but not until, from an opposite coach maker, we had secured a phaeton-like carriage to convey us with post horses, the next day, to Paris.
Excellent beds and undisturbed slumber put me in spirits for the grand entree into the metropolis of France. Breakfasting a little after nine--before ten, a pair of powerful black horses, one of which was surmounted by a sprucely-attired postilion--with the phaeton in the rear--were at the door of the hotel. Seeing all our baggage properly secured, we sprung into the conveyance and darted forward at a smart gallop. The animals seemed as if they could fly away with us--and the whip of the postilion made innumerable circular flourishes above their heads.
The sky was beautifully clear: and a briskly-stirring, but not unpleasantly penetrating, south-east wind, played in our faces as we seemed scarcely to be sensible of the road. What a contrast to the heat, vexation, and general uncomfortableness of the two preceding days of our journey! We felt it sensibly, and enjoyed it in proportion. Our first place of halting, to change horses, was at HOUDAN; which may be about four leagues from Dreux; and I verily believe we reached it in an hour. The route thither is through a flat and uninteresting country; except that every feature of landscape (and more especially in our previous journeys through Normandy) seems to be thrown to a greater distance, than in England. This may account for the flatness of views, and the diminutiveness of objects. Houdan is a village-like town, containing a population of about 2000 inhabitants; but much business is done on market days; and of _corn_, in particular, I was told that they often sold several thousand sacks in a day. Its contiguity to Paris may account for the quant.i.ty of business done. In the outskirts of the town,--and flanked, rather than surrounded, by two or three rows of trees, of scarcely three years growth--stands the "stiff and stower"
remains of the _Castle of Houdan_. It is a very interesting relic, and to our eyes appeared of an unusual construction. The corner towers are small and circular; and the intermediate portion of the outer wall is constructed with a swell, or a small curvature outwards. I paced the outside, but have forgotten the measurement. Certainly, it is not more than forty feet square. I tried to gain admittance into the interior, but without success, as the person possessing the key was not to be found. I saw enough, however, to convince me that the walls could not be less than twelve feet in thickness.
The horses had been some time in readiness, and the fresh postilion seemed to be lost in amazement at the cause of our loitering so long at so insignificant a place. The day warmed as we pushed on for the far-famed "proud Versailles." The approach, from Houdan, is perhaps not the most favourable; although we got peeps of the palace, which gave us rather elevated notions of its enormous extent. We drove to the _Hotel de Bourbon_, an excellent, clean mansion, close to the very facade of the palace, after pa.s.sing the Hotel de Ville; and from whence you have an undisturbed view of the broad, wide, direct road to Paris. I bespoke dinner, and prepared to lounge. The palace--of which I purposely declined visiting the interior--reserving Versailles for a future and entire day"s gratification--is doubtless an immense fabric--of which the facade just mentioned is composed of brick, and a.s.sumes any thing but a grand and imposing air: merely because it wants simplicity and uniformity of design.
I observed some charming white stone houses, scattered on each side of this widely extended chaussee--or route royale--and, upon the whole, Versailles appeared to us to be a magnificent and rather interesting spot. Two or three rows of trees, some forty or fifty generations more ancient than those const.i.tuting the boulevards at Houdan, formed avenues on each side of this n.o.ble road; and all appeared life and animation--savouring of the proximity of the metropolis. Carriages without number--chiefly upon hire, were going and returning; and the gaits and dresses of individuals were of a more studied and of a gayer aspect. At length, we became a little impatient for our dinner, and for the moment of our departure. We hired one of these carriages; which for nine francs, would convey us to the place of our destination. This appeared to me very reasonable; and after being extravagant enough to drink Champagne at dinner, to commemorate our near approach to the metropolis, we set forward between five and six o"clock, resolving to strain our eyes to the utmost, and to be astonished at every thing we saw!--especially as _this_ is considered the most favourable approach to the capital.
The _Ecole Militaire_, to the left, of which Marshal Ney had once the chief command, struck me as a n.o.ble establishment. But it was on approaching _Sevre_ that all the bustle and population, attendant upon the immediate vicinity of a great metropolis, became evident. Single-horsed vehicles--in many of which not fewer than nine persons were pretty closely stowed--three upon a bench, and three benches under the roof--fiacres, barouches, and carriages of every description, among which we discovered a great number from our own country--did not fail to occupy our unremitting attention.