Quitting this heavy and ugly, but large and commodious fabric, I sought the inn and dinner. The cook was in every respect a learned professor in his art, and the produce of his skill was equally excellent and acceptable. I had scarcely finished my repast, and the Gruyere cheese and nuts yet lingered upon the table, when the soft sounds of an organ, accompanied by a youthful voice, saluted my ears in a very pleasing manner. " C'est LE PAUVRE PETIT SAVOYARD, Monsieur"--exclaimed the waiter--" Vous allez entendre un air touchant! Ah, le pauvre petit!"--"Comment ça?" "Monsieur, il n'a ni père ni mère; mais pour le chant--oh Dieu, il n'y a personne qui chante comme le pauvre petit Savoyard!" I was well disposed to hear the song, and to admit the truth of the waiter's observation. The little itinerant stopped opposite the door, and sung the following air:--
Bon jour, Bon soir.
Je peindrai sans
détour
Tout l'emploi de ma vie:
C'est de dire bon jour
Et bon soir tour-à-tour.
Bon Jour à mon amie,
Lorsque je vais la voir.
Mais au fat qui m'ennuie,
Bon soir.
Bon jour franc
troubadour,
Qui chantez la bombance;
La paix et les beaux jours;
Bacchus et les amours.
Qu'un rimeur en démence
Vienne avec vous s'asseoir,
Pour chanter la Romance,
Bon soir.
Bon jour, mon cher
voisin,
Chez vous la soif m'entraîne:
Bonjour--si votre vin
Est de Beaune ou du Rhin;
Mon gosier va sans peine
Lui servir d'entonnoir;
Mais s'il est de Surêne,
Bon soir.
I know not how it was, but had the "petit Savoyard" possessed the cultivated voice of a chorister, I could not have listened to his notes with half the satisfaction with which I dwelt upon his history, as stated by the waiter. He had no sooner concluded and made his bow, than I bought the slender volume from which his songs had been chanted, and had a long gossip with him. He slung his organ upon his back, and "ever and anon" touching his hat, expressed his thankfulness, as much for the interest I had taken in his welfare, as for the trifling piece of silver which I slipt into his hand at parting. Meanwhile all the benches, placed on the outsides of the houses, were occupied--chiefly by females--to witness, it should seem, so novel and interesting a sight as an Englishman holding familiar discourse with a poor wandering Savoyard! My friend the sexton was among the spectators, and from his voice and action, appeared especially interested. "Que le bon Dieu vous bénisse!" exclaimed the Savoyard, as I bade him farewell. On pursuing my route for a stroll upon the heights near the town, I had occasion to pass these benches of spectators. The women, almost without any exception, inclined their heads by way of a gracious salute; and Monsieur le Sacristain pulled off his enormous cock'd hat with the consequence of a drum-major. He appeared not to have forgotten the donation which he had received in the church. Continuing my pursuit, I gained an elevated situation: whence, looking down upon the spot where I had left the Savoyard, I observed him surrounded by the females--each and every one of them apparently convulsed with laughter! Even the little musician appeared to have forgotten his "orphan state."
The environs of Bolbec, especially in the upper part, are sufficiently picturesque. At least they are sufficiently fruitful: orchards, corn and pasture land--intermixed with meadows, upon which cotton was spread for bleaching--produced altogether a very interesting effect. The little hanging gardens, attached to labourer's huts, contributed to the beauty of the scene. A warm crimson sun-set seemed to envelope the coppice wood in a flame of gold. The road was yet reeking with moisture--and I retraced my steps, through devious and slippery paths, to the hôtel. Evening had set in: the sound of the Savoyard's voice was no longer heard: I ordered tea and candles, and added considerably to my journal before I went to bed. I rose at five; and before six the horses were harnessed to the cabriolet. Having obtained the necessary instructions for reaching Tancarville, (the ancient and proud seat of the MONTMORENCIS) I paid my reckoning, and left Bolbec. As I ascended a long and rather steep hill, and, looking to the right and left, saw every thing in a state of verdure and promise, I did all I could to persuade myself that the journey would be agreeable, and that the castle of Montmorenci could not fail to command admiration. I was now in the high and broad "roúte royale" to Havre le Grace; but had scarcely been a league upon it, when, looking at my instructions, we struck out of the high road, to the left, and followed a private one through flat and uninteresting arable land. I cannot tell how many turns were taken, or how many pretty little villages were passed-- till, after a long and gradual ascent, we came upon a height, flanked the greater part by coppice wood, through one portion of which--purposely kept open for the view--was seen at a distance a marvellously fine group of perpendicular rocks (whose grey and battered sides were lighted up with a pink colour from the morning sun) in the middle, as it were, of the Seine--which now really assumed an ocean-like appearance. In fact, these rocks were at a considerable distance, and appeared to be in the broadest part of the embouchure of that river. I halted the cabriolet; and gazed with unfeigned delight on this truly magnificent and fascinating scene!... for the larks were now mounting all around, and their notes, added to those of the "songsters of the grove," produced an effect which I even preferred to that from the organ and voice of the "pauvre petit Savoyard." The postboy partook of my rapture. "Voilà, Monsieur, des rochers terriblement perpendiculiers--eh, quelle belle vue de la rivière, et du paysage!"
Leaving this brilliant picture, we turned rather to the left, and then found our descent proportionably gradual with the ascent. The Seine was now right before us, as hasty glimpses of it, through partial vistos, had enabled us to ascertain. Still Tancarville was deemed a terrible way off. First we were to go up, and then we were to go down--now to turn to the right, and afterwards to the left--a sort of πολλα δ'αναντα καταντα route--when a prepossessing young paysanne told the postilion, that, after passing through such a wood, we should reach an avenue, from the further end of which the castle of Montmorenci would be visible .. "une petite lieue de distance." Every thing is "une petite lieue!" It is the answer to every question relating to distance. Though the league be double a German one, still it is "une petite!" Here however the paysanne happened to be right. We passed through the wood, gained the avenue, and from the further end saw--even yet towering in imposing magnitude--the far- famed Chateau de Montmorenci. It might be a small league off. I gained spirits and even strength at the sight: told the postilion to mend his pace--of which he gave immediate and satisfactory demonstration, while the echoes of his whip resounded along the avenue. A closer road now received us. Knolls of grass interwoven with moss, on the summits of which the beech and lime threw up their sturdy stems, now enclosed the road, which began to widen and to improve in condition. At length, turning a corner, a group of country people appeared--"Est-ce ici la route de Tancarville?"--"Tancarville est tout près: c'est là, où on voit la fumée des cheminées." Joyful intelligence! The post-boy increased his speed: The wheels seemed to move with a readier play: and in one minute and a half I was upon the beach of the river Seine, and alighted at the door of the only auberge in the village.
I know you to be both a lover of and connoisseur in Rembrandt's pictures: and especially of those of his old characters. I wish you could have seen the old woman, of the name of Bucan, who came out of this same auberge to receive us. She had a sharp, quick, constantly moving black eye; keen features, projecting from a surface of flesh of a subdued mahogany tint; about her temples, and the lower part of her cheeks, were all those harmonizing wrinkles which become old age--upon canvas--while, below her chin, communicating with a small and shrunken neck, was that sort of concavity, or dewlap, which painters delight to express with a minuteness of touch, and mellowness of tint, that contribute largely to picturesque effect! This good old woman received us with perfect elasticity of spirits and of action. It should seem that we were the first Englishmen who had visited her solitude this year. Her husband approached, but she soon ordered him "to the right about"--to prepare fuel, coffee, and eggs. I was promised the best breakfast that could be got in Normandy, in twenty minutes. The inn being sufficiently miserable, I was anxious for a ramble. The tide was now coming up, as at Caudebec; but the sweep and breadth of the river being, upon a considerably larger scale, its increase was not yet so obvious--although I am quite sure that all the flats, which I saw on my arrival as a bed of mud, were, within a quarter of an hour, wholly covered with the tide: and, looking up to the right, I perceived the perpendicular walls of Montmorenci Castle to be washed by the refluent wave. It was a sort of ocean in miniature before me. A few miserable fishing boats were moored upon the beach; while a small number of ill-clad and straggling villagers lingered about the same spot, and seemed to look upon the postboy and myself as beings dropt from the sky!
On ascending a considerable elevation, I had the gratification of viewing Quillebeuf a little more nearly. It was almost immediately opposite: while, to the right, contemplating the wide sweep of the river towards its embouchure, I fancied that I could see Havre. The group of rocks, which had so charmed us on our journey, now assumed a different character. On descending, I could discover, although at a considerable distance, the old woman standing at the door of the auberge--apparently straining her eyes to catch a glimpse of us; and she was almost disposed to scold for having put her reputation of giving good breakfasts to so hazardous a trial. The wood was blazing, and the room was almost filled by smoke--but a prolonged fast, and a stage of sixteen or eighteen miles, in a keen morning air, made Mr. Lewis and myself only think of allaying our hunger. In every public house, however mean, you see the white metal fork, and the napkin covering the plate. A dozen boiled eggs, and a coffee pot and cups of perfectly Brobdignagdian dimensions, with tolerable bread and indifferent butter, formed the materiél of our breakfast. The postboy, having stabled and refreshed his horses, was regaling himself in the kitchen--but- how do you think he was regaling himself?--Truly, in stretching himself upon a bench, and reading, as old Ascham expresses it, "a merry tale in Boccace." In other words, he was reading a French version of the Decameron of that celebrated author. Indeed, I had already received sufficient proof of the general propensity of the common people to read--whether good or bad books ... but let us hope and believe the former. I left the bibliomaniacal postboy to his Boccaccio, and prepared to visit the CASTLE ... the once proud and yet commanding residence of the family of MONTMORENCI.
I ascended--with fresh energies imparted from my breakfast. The day grew soft, and bright, and exhilarating ... but alas! for the changes and chances of every thing in this transitory world. Where was the warder? He had ceased to blow his horn for many a long year. Where was the harp of the minstrel? It had perished two centuries ago, with the hand that had struck its chords. Where was the attendant guard?--or pursuivants--or men at arms? They had been swept from human existence, like the leaves of the old limes and beech trees by which the lower part of the building was surrounded. The moat was dry; the rampart was a ruin:--the rank grass grew within the area ... nor can I tell you how many relics of halls, banqueting rooms, and bed- rooms, with all the magnificent appurtenances of old castellated architecture, struck the eager eye with mixed melancholy and surprise! The singular half-circular, and half square, corner towers, hanging over the ever-restless wave, interested me exceedingly. The guide shewed me where the prisoners used to be kept--in a dungeon, apparently impervious to every glimmer of day-light, and every breath of air. I cannot pretend to say at what period even the oldest part of the Castle of Montmorenci was built: but I saw nothing that seemed to be more ancient than the latter end of the fifteenth century.90 Perhaps the greater portion may be of the beginning of the sixteenth; but, amidst the unroofed rooms, I could not help admiring the painted borders, chiefly of a red colour, which run along the upper part of the walls, or wainscoats--giving indication not only of a good, but of a splendid, taste. Did I tell you that this sort of ornament was to be seen in some parts of the eastern end of the Abbey of Jumieges? Here, indeed, they afforded evidence--an evidence, mingled with melancholy sensations on reflection--of the probable state of magnificence which once reigned throughout the castle. Between the corner towers, upon that part which runs immediately parallel with the Seine, there is a noble terrace, now converted into garden ground--which commands an immediate and extensive view of the embouchure of the river. It is the property of a speculator, residing at Havre.
The cabriolet meeting me at the bottom of the mound upon which the castle is built, (having paid the reckoning before I left the inn), I had nothing to do but to step in, and push forward for Havre. Retracing the road through which we came, we darted into the Route Royale, and got upon one of the noblest high roads in France. Between Tancarville and Havre lie Hocher and Harfleur; each almost at the water's edge. I regretted I could not see the former; but on our approach to Harfleur I observed, to the right, some delightfully situated, and not inelegantly built, country villas or modern chateaux. The immediate run down to Harfleur is exceedingly pleasing; and though we trotted sharply through the town, the exquisite little porch of the church was not lost upon me. Few places, I believe, for its dimensions, have been more celebrated in the middle ages than Harfleur. The Seine to the left becomes broader and bolder; and, before you, beneath some wooded heights, lies HAVRE. Every thing gives indication of commerce and prosperity as you gain upon the town. The houses increase in number and respectability of appearance--"Voyez-vous là, Monsieur, à droite, ces belles maisons de plaisance?--(exclaimed the charioteer)--"C'est la où demeurent Messieurs vos compatriotes: ma foi, ils ont un joli gout." The first glance upon these stone houses confirmed the sagacity of the postilion. They are gloriously situated--facing the ocean; while the surrounding country teems with fish and game of every species. Isaac Walton might have contrived to interweave a pretty ballad in his description of such trout-streams as were those before us.
But we approach the town. The hulls of hundreds of vessels are seen in the commodious docks; and the flags of merchantmen, from all quarters of the globe, appear to stream from the mast-heads. It is a scene of bustle, of business, and variety; and perfectly English. What a contrast to the gloomy solitude of Montmorenci! The outer and inner gates are passed. Diligences issue from every quarter. The centinels relieve guard. The sound of horns, from various packet-boats immediately about to sail, echoes on all sides.... Driving up the high street, we approached the hôtel of the Aigle d'Or,91 kept by Justin, and considered to be the best. We were just in time for the table d'hôte, and to bespeak excellent beds. Travellers were continually arriving and departing. What life and animation!... We sat down upwards of forty to dinner: and a good dinner it was. Afterwards, I settled for the cabriolet, and bade the postboy adieu!-- nor can I suppress my feelings in saying that, in wishing him farewell, I felt ten times more than I had ever felt upon taking leave of a postilion.
LETTER XI
HAVRE DE GRACE. HONFLEUR. JOURNEY TO CAEN.
Caen, May, 1818.
Well, my friend!... I have at length visited the interior of the Abbey of St. Stephen, and have walked over the grave of WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR and of MATHILDA his wife. But as you dearly love the gossip of a travelling journal, I shall take up the thread of my narrative from the place in which I last addressed you:--particularly as our route hither was marked by some circumstances worthy of recital. First, however, for Havre.
I staid there only long enough to express my regret that the time of my residence could not be extended. It happened to be a fine afternoon, and I took a leisurely stroll upon the docks and ramparts.92 The town was full of animation--whether relating to business or to pleasure. For the former, you must visit the quays; for the latter, you must promenade the high street, and more especially the Boulevards, towards the heights. The sun shone merrily, as it were, upon the thousands of busy, bustling, and bawling human creatures.. who were in constant locomotion in this latter place.
What a difference between the respective appearances of the quays of Dieppe and Havre? Although even here things would assume a rubbishing and littered aspect compared with the quays at Liverpool or at Hull, yet it must be admitted, for the credit of Gallico-Norman commerce, that the quays of Havre make a very respectable appearance. You see men fiddling, dancing, sleeping, sitting, and of course talking à pleine gorge, in groups without end--but no drunkenness!.. not even an English oath saluted my ear. The Southampton packets land their crews at Havre. I saw the arrival of one of these packets; and was cruel enough to contrast the animated and elastic spirits of a host of French laqnais de place, tradespeople, &c.--attacking the passengers with cards of their address--with the feeble movements and dejected countenances of the objects of their attack.
From the quays, I sauntered along the ramparts, which are flanked by broad ditches--of course plentifully supplied with water; and passing over the drawbridge, by which all carriages enter the town--and which absolutely trembles as if about to sink beneath you, as the diligence rolls over it.--I made for the boulevards and tea-gardens; to which, business being well nigh over, the inhabitants of Havre flock by hundreds and by thousands. A fine afternoon throws every thing into "good keeping"--as the artists say. The trees, and meadows, and upper lands, were not only bright with the sun-beam, but the human countenance was lighted up with gladness. The occupations partook of this joyful character. Accordingly there was dancing and singing on all sides; a little beyond, appeared to sit a group of philosophers, or politicians, upon a fantastically cut seat, beneath laburnums streaming with gold; while, still further, gradually becoming invisible from the foliage and winding path, strolled pairs in more gentle discourse! Meanwhile the whoop and halloo of school-boys, in rapid and ceaseless evolutions, resounded through the air, and heightened the gratification of the scene....
And young and old came out to play
Upon a sun-shine holiday.
Gaining a considerable ascent, I observed knolls of rich verdure, with fine spreading trees, and elegant mansions, to be in the foreground--in the middle-ground, stood the town of Havre:--in the distance, rolled and roared the expansive ocean! The sun was visibly going to rest; but his departing beams yet sparkled upon the more prominent points of the picture. There was no time for finishing the subject. After a stroll of nearly a couple of hours, on this interesting spot, I retraced my steps over the draw-bridge, and prepared for objects of still life; in other words, for the examination of what might be curious and profitable in the shape of a boke.
The lamps were lighted when I commenced my Bibliomaniacal Voyage of discovery among the BOOKSELLERS. But what poverty of materials, for a man educated in the schools of Fust and Caxton! To every question, about rare or old books, I was told that I should have been on the Continent when the allies first got possession of Paris. In fact, I had not a single trouvaille.
The packet was to sail by nine the next morning, precisely. For a wonder, (or rather no wonder at all, considering what had occurred during the last twenty-four hours) I had an excellent night's rest, and was prepared for breakfast by eight. Having breakfasted, I accompanied my luggage to the inner harbour, and observed the Honfleur packet swarming with passengers, and crammed with every species of merchandize: especially tubs, casks, trunks, cordage, and earthenware. We went on board, and took our stations near the helm; and after experiencing a good deal of uncomfortable heaving of the ocean, got clear from the mouth of the harbour, and stood out to sea. The tide was running briskly and strongly into the harbour. We were in truth closely stowed; and as these packets are built with flattish bottoms, and low sides, a rough sea would not fail to give to a crew, thus exposed, the appearance of half-drowned rats. Luckily the wind began to subside, and by degrees old ocean wore a face of undisturbed serenity. Our crew was a motley one; but among them, an Abbess, with a visage of parchment-like rigidity, and with her broad streaming bands, seemed to experience particular distress. She was surrounded by some hale, hearty market women, whose robust forms, and copper-tinted countenances, formed a striking contrast to her own. A little beyond was an old officer or two, with cocked hats of the usually capacious dimensions. But the poor Abbess was cruelly afflicted; and in a gesture and tone of voice, of the most piteous woe, implored the steward of the vessel for accommodation below.
Fortunately, as I was not in the least annoyed by sickness, I had leisure to survey the heights of Honfleur before we landed; and looking towards the course of the River Seine, as it narrowed in its windings, I discovered Harfleur and Hocher nearly opposite; and, a good deal lower down, the little fishing town of Quillebeuf, apparently embedded in the water. Honfleur itself is surely among the most miserable of fishing towns93-- or whatever be the staple commodity that supports it. But the environs make amends for the squalidness of the town. A few years of peace and plenty would work wonders even in the improvements of these environs. Perhaps no situation is more favourable for the luxury of a summer retirement.94 I paid only eight sous for my passage; and having no passport to be viséd (which indeed was the case at Havre,) we selected a stout lad or two, from the crowds of lookers on, as we landed, to carry our luggage to the inn from which the diligence sets off for CAEN. It surprised us to see with what alacrity these lads carried the baggage up a steep hill in their trucks, or barrows; but we were disgusted with the miserable forms, and miserable clothing, of both sexes, which we encountered as we proceeded. I was fortunate to be in time to secure my place in the Diligence. The horses were in the very act of being put to, as I paid my reckoning beforehand.
Judge of our surprise and gratification on seeing two well-dressed, and apparently well-bred Englishmen, securing their places at the same time. It is not always that, at first sight, Englishmen associate so quickly, and apparently so cordially, as did these gentlemen with ourselves. They were the Messrs. D*** of L**** Hall in Yorkshire: the elder brother an Oxford man of the same standing with myself. The younger, a Cantab. We were all bound for Caen; and right gladly did we coalesce upon this expedition.
We proceeded at a good sharp pace; and as we ascended the very high hill on the direct road to Caen, with fine leafy trees on each side, and upon a noble breadth of road, I looked out of the diligence to enjoy the truly magnificent view of the Seine--with glimpses of Harfleur and Havre on the opposite coast. The cessation of the rain, and the quick movement of the vehicle, enabled me to do this in a tolerably commodious manner. The ground however seemed saturated, and the leaves glistened with the incumbent moisture. There was a sort of pungent freshness of scent abroad--and a rich pasture land on each side gave the most luxuriant appearance to the landscape. Nature indeed seemed to have fructified every thing in a manner at once spontaneous and perfect. The face of the country is pasture-land throughout; that is to say, there are comparatively few orchards and little arable. I was told to pay attention to the cattle, for that the farmers prided themselves on their property of this kind. They may pride themselves--if they please: but their pride is not of a lofty cast of character. I have been in Lincolnshire, Herefordshire, and Gloucestershire--and have seen and enjoyed, in these counties, groups of cattle which appeared calculated for the land and the table of giants, compared with the Lilliputian objects, of the bucoline species, which were straying, in thin flocks, through the luxuriant pastures of Normandy. That triumphant and immutable maxim of "small bone and large carcase" seems, alas! to be unknown in these regions.
However, on we rode--and gazed on all sides. At length we reached Pont L'Eveque, a pretty long stage; where we dined (says my journal) upon roast fowl, asparagus, trout, and an excellent omelette, with two good bottles of vin ordinaire--which latter, for four Englishmen, was commendably moderate. During dinner the rain came down again in yet heavier torrents--the gutters foamed, and the ground smoked with the unceasing fall of the water. In the midst of this aquatic storm, we toasted Old England right merrily and cordially; and the conducteur, seeing us in good humour, told us that "we need not hurry, for that he preferred a dry journey to a wet one." We readily assented to this position; but within half an hour, the weather clearing, we remounted: and by four o'clock, we all got inside--and politics, religion, literature, and the fine arts, kept us in constant discourse and good humour as we rolled on for many a league. All the way to Troarn (the last stage on this side of Caen) the country presents a truly lovely picture of pasture land. There are occasionally some wooded heights, in which English wealth and English taste would have raised villas of the prettiest forms, and with most commanding views. Yet there is nothing to be mentioned in the same breath with the country about Rodwell in Glocestershire. Nor are the trees of the same bulk and luxuriant foliage as are those in our own country. A fine oak is as rare as an uncut Wynkyn de Worde:95 but creeping rivulets, rich coppice wood, avenues of elms and limes, and meadows begemmed with butter-cups--these are the characteristics of the country through which we were passing. It is in vain however you look for neat villas or consequential farm houses: and as rarely do you see groups of villagers reposing, or in action. A dearth of population gives to French landscape a melancholy and solitary cast of character. It is in cities that you must look for human beings--and for cities the French seem to have been created.
It was at Troarn, I think, or at some halting place beyond, that our passports were demanded, and the examination of our trunks solicited. We surrendered our keys most willingly. The gentlemen, with their cocked hats and blue jackets--having a belt from which a sword was suspended--consulted together for a minute only--returned our keys--and telling us that matters would be thoroughly looked into at Caen, said they would give us no trouble. We were of course not sorry at this determination--and the Messrs. D---and myself getting once more into the cabriolet, (a postboy being secured for the leaders) we began to screw up our spirits and curiosity for a view of the steeples of CAEN. Unluckily the sun had set, and the horizon had become gloomy, when we first discovered the spires of St. Stephen's Abbey--the principal ecclesiastical edifice at Caen. It was hard upon nine o'clock; and the evening being extremely dusky, we had necessarily a very indistinct view of the other churches--but, to my eye, as seen in a lengthened view, and through a deceitful atmosphere, Caen had the appearance of OXFORD on a diminutive scale. The town itself, like our famous University, is built in a slanting direction; though the surrounding country is yet flatter than about Oxford. As we entered it, all the population seemed collected to witness our arrival. From solitude we plunged at once into tumult, bustle, and noise. We stopped at the Hotel d'Espagne--a large, but black and begrimed mansion. Here our luggage was taken down; and here we were assailed by garçons de place, with cards in their hands, intreating us to put up at their respective hotels. We had somehow got a recommendation to the Hotel Royale, Place Royale, and such a union of royal adjuncts was irresistible. Accordingly, we resolved upon moving thither. In a trice our trunks were placed upon barrows: and we marched behind, "in double quick time," in order to secure our property. The town appeared to improve as we made our different turnings, and gained upon our hotel. "Le voilà, Messieurs"--exclaimed our guides and baggage-conductors--as we got into a goodly square, and saw a fair and comely mansion in front. The rush of landlord, waiting maids, and garçons de place, encountered us as we entered. "Messieurs, je vous salue,"--said a huge, ungracious looking figure:--which said figure was nothing less than the master of the hotel--Mons. Lagouelle. We were shown into a small room on the ground floor, to the right--and ordered tea; but had scarcely begun to enjoy the crackling blaze of a plentiful wood fire, when the same ungracious figure took his seat by the side of us ... to tell us "all about THE DUEL."
I had heard (from an English gentleman in the packet boat from Havre to Honfleur) something respecting this most extraordinary duel between a young Englishman and a young Frenchman: but as I mean to reserve my Caen budget for a distinct dispatch, and as I have yet hardly tarried twenty hours in this place, I must bid you adieu; only adding that I dreamt, last night, about some English antiquaries trying to bend the bow of William the Conqueror!--Can this be surprising? Again farewell.
LETTER XII.
CAEN. SOIL. SOCIETY. EDUCATION. A DUEL. OLD HOUSES. THE ABBEY OF ST. STEPHEN. CHURCH OF ST. PIERRE DE DARNETAL. ABBÉ DE LA SAINTE TRINITÉ. OTHER PUBLIC EDIFICES.
I have now resided upwards of a week at Lagouelle's, the Hotel Royale, and can tell you something of the place and of the inhabitants of CAEN. Caen however is still-life after Rouen: but it has been, and yet is, a town exceedingly well-deserving the attention of the lounging traveller and of the curious antiquary. Its ecclesiastical edifices are more ancient, but less vast and splendid, than those of Rouen; while the streets and the houses are much more wide and comfortable. This place is the capital of the department of CALVADOS, or of LOWER NORMANDY: and its population is estimated at forty thousand souls. It has a public library, a school of art, a college, mayoralty, and all the adjuncts of a corporate society.96 But I must first give you something in the shape of political economy intelligence. Caen with its arrondissemens of Bayeux, Vire, Falaise, Lisieux, Pont L'Eveque, is the country of pasturage and of cattle. It is also fertile in the apple and pear; and although at Argences there have been vineyards from time immemorial, yet the produce of the grape, in the character of wine,97 is of a very secondary description. There are beautiful and most abundant market gardens about Caen; and for the last seventy years they have possessed a garden for the growth and cultivation of foreign plants and trees. It is said that more than nine hundred species of plants and trees are to be found in the department of CALVADOS, of which some (but I know not how many or how few) are considered as indigenous. Of forests and woods, the number is comparatively small; and upon that limited number great injuries were inflicted by the Revolution. In the arrondissement of Caen itself, there are only 344 hectares.98 The truth is, that in the immediate neighbourhood of populous towns, the French have no idea of PLANTING. They suffer plain after plain, and hill after hill, to be denuded of trees, and make no provision for the supply of those who are to come after them. Thus, not only a great portion of the country about Rouen--(especially in the direction of the road leading to Caen--) is gradually left desolate and barren, but even here, as you approach the town, there is a dreary flatness of country, unrefreshed by the verdure of foliage: whereas the soil, kind and productive by nature, requires only the slightest attention of man to repay him a hundred fold. What they will do some fifty years hence for fuel, is quite inconceivable. It is true that the river Orne, by means of the tide, and of its proximity to the sea, brings up vessels of even 200 tons burthen, in which they may stow plenty of wood; but still, the expenses of carriage, and duties of a variety of description--together with the dependence of the town upon such accidental supply--would render the article of fuel a most expensive concern. It is also true that they pretend that the soil, in the department of Calvados, contains coal; but the experiments which were made some years ago at Littry, in the arondissement of Bayeux, should forbid the Caennois to indulge any very sanguine expectations on that score.
In respect to the trade of the town, the two principal branches are lace and cap making. The former trade is divided with Bayeux; and both places together give occupation to about thirty thousand pairs99 of hands. People of all ages may be so employed; and the annual gross receipts have been estimated at four millions of francs. In cap making only, at Caen, four thousand people have been constantly engaged, and a gross produce of two millions of francs has been the result of that branch of trade. A great part of this manufacture was consumed at home; but more than one half used to be exported to Spain, Portugal, and the colonies belonging to France. They pretend to say, however, that this article of commerce is much diminished both in profit and reputation: while that of table linen is gaining proportionably in both.100 There were formerly great tanneries in Caen and its immediate vicinity, but lately that branch of trade has suffered extremely. The revolution first gave it a violent check, and the ignorance and inattention of the masters to recent improvements, introduced by means of chemistry, have helped to hasten its decay. To balance this misfortune, there has of late sprung up a very general and judiciously directed commercial spirit in the article of porcelaine; and if Caen be inferior to its neighbouring towns, and especially to Rouen and Lisieux, in the articles of cloth, stuffs, and lace, it takes a decided lead in that which relates to pottery and china: no mean articles in the supply of domestic wants and luxuries. But it is in matters of higher "pith and moment" that Caen may claim a superiority over the towns just noticed. There is a better spirit of education abroad; and, for its size, more science and more literature will be found in it.
This place has been long famous for the education of Lawyers. There are two distinct academies--one for "Science and the Belles-Lettres"--the other for agriculture and commerce. The Lycée is a noble building, close to the Abbey of St. Stephen: but I wish its façade had been Gothic, to harmonise with the Abbey. Indeed, Caen has quite the air of Oxford, from the prevalent appearance of stone in its public buildings. The environs of the town afford quarries, whence the stone is taken in great blocks, in a comparatively soft state--and is thus cut into the several forms required with the greatest facility. It is then exposed, and every succeeding day appears to add to its white tint and durable quality. I saw some important improvements making in the outskirts of the town,101 in which they were finishing shafts and capitals of columns in a manner the most correct and gratifying. Still farther from the immediate vicinity of Caen, they find stone of a closer grain; and with this they make stair- cases, and pavements for the interior of buildings. Indeed the stone stair- cases in this place, which are usually circular, and projecting from the building, struck me as being equally curious and uncommon. It is asserted that they have different kinds of marble in the department of Calvados, which equal that of the south of France. At Basly and Vieux white marble is found which has been judged worthy of a comparison with Parian; but this is surely a little presumptuous. However, it is known that Cardinal Richelieu brought from Vieux all the marble with which he built the chapel in the college of the Sorbonne.
Upon the whole, as to general appearance, and as to particular society, Caen may be preferable to Rouen. The costume and manners of the common people are pretty much, if not entirely, the same; except that, as to dress, the cauchoise is here rather more simple than at Dieppe and Rouen. The upper fille-de-chambre at our hotel displays not only a good correct model of national dress, but she is well-looking in her person, and well-bred in her manners. Mr. Lewis prevailed upon this good-natured young woman to sit for her likeness, and for the sake of her costume. The girl's eyes sparkled with more than ordinary joy at the proposal, and even an expression of gratitude mingled itself in her manner of compliance. I send you the figure and dress of the fille-de-chambre at the Hotel Royale of Caen.102
FILLE DE CHAMBRE, CAEN.
Caen is called the dépôt of the English.103 In truth there is an amazing number of our countrymen here, and from very different causes. One family comes to reside from motives of economy; another from those of education; a third from those of retirement; and a fourth from pure love of sitting down, in a strange place, with the chance of making some pleasant connection, or of being engaged in seeking some strange adventure: Good and cheap living, and novel society, are doubtless the main attractions. But there is desperate ill blood just now between the Caennois (I will not make use of the enlarged term Francois) and the English; and I will tell you the cause. Do you remember the emphatic phrase in my last, "all about the duel?" Listen. About three weeks only before our arrival,104 a duel was fought between a young French law-student, and a young Englishman; the latter the son of a naval captain. I will mention no names; and so far not wound the feelings of the friends of the parties concerned. But this duel, my friend, has been "THE DUEL OF DUELS"--on the score of desperation, and of a fixed purpose to murder. It is literally without precedent, and I trust will never be considered as one. You must know then, that Caen, in spite of all the "bouleversemens" of the Revolution, has maintained its ancient reputation of possessing a very large seminary, or college for students at law. These students amount to nearly 600 in number. Most young gentlemen under twenty years of age are at times riotous, or frolicsome, or foolish. Generally speaking, however, the students conduct themselves with propriety: but there had been a law-suit between a French and English suitor, and the Judge pronounced sentence in favour of our countryman. The hall was crowded with spectators, and among them was a plentiful number of law-students. As they were retiring, one young Frenchman either made frightful faces, or contemptible gestures, in a very fixed and insulting manner, at a young Englishman--the son of this naval captain. Our countryman had no means or power of noticing or resenting the insult, as the aggressor was surrounded by his companions. It so happened that it was fair time at Caen; and in the evening of the same day, our countryman recognised, in the crowd at the fair, the physiognomy of the young man who had insulted him in the hall of justice. He approached him, and gave him to understand that his rude behaviour should be noticed at a proper time and in a proper place: whereupon the Frenchman came up to him, shook him violently by the arm, and told him to "fix his distance on the ensuing morning." Now the habit of duelling is very common among these law-students; but they measure twenty-five paces, fire, and of course ... MISS--and then fancy themselves great heroes ... and there is an end of the affair. Not so upon the present occasion. "Fifteen paces," if you please-- said the student, sarcastically, with a conviction of the backwardness of his opponent to meet him. "FIVE, rather"--exclaimed the provoked Englishman--"I will fight you at FIVE paces:"--and it was agreed that they should meet and fight on the morrow, at five paces only asunder.
Each party was under twenty; but I believe the English youth had scarcely attained his nineteenth year. What I am about to relate will cause your flesh to creep. It was determined by the seconds, as one must necessarily fall, from firing at so short a distance, that only one pistol should be loaded with ball: the other having nothing but powder:--and that, as the Frenchman had challenged, he was to have the choice of the pistols. They parted. The seconds prepared the pistols according to agreement, and the fatal morning came. The combatants appeared, without one jot of abatement of spirit or of cool courage. The pistols lay upon the grass before them: one loaded only with powder, and the other with powder and ball. The Frenchman advanced: took up a pistol, weighed and balanced it most carefully in his hand, and then ... laid it down. He seized the other pistol, and cocking it, fixed himself upon the spot from whence he was to fire. The English youth was necessarily compelled to take the abandoned pistol. Five paces were then measured ... and on the signal being given, they both fired ... and the Frenchman fell ... DEAD UPON THE SPOT! The Frenchman had in fact taken up, but afterwards laid down, the very pistol which was loaded with the fatal ball--on the supposition that it was of too light a weight; and even seemed to compliment himself upon his supposed sagacity on the occasion. But to proceed. The ball went through his heart, as I understood. The second of the deceased on seeing his friend a reeking corpse at his feet, became mad and outrageous ... and was for fighting the survivor immediately! Upon which, the lad of mettle and courage replied, that he would not fight a man without a second--"But go," said he, (drawing his watch coolly from his fob). I will give you twenty minutes to come back again with your second." He waited, with his watch in his hand, and by the dead body of his antagonist, for the return of the Frenchman; but on the expiration of the time, his own second conjured him to consult his safety and depart; for that, from henceforth, his life was in jeopardy. He left the ground; obtained his passport, and quitted the town instantly ... The dead body of his antagonist was then placed on a bier: and his funeral was attended by several hundreds of his companions--who, armed with muskets and swords, threatened destruction to the civil and military authorities if they presumed to interfere. All this has necessarily increased the ill- blood which is admitted to exist between the English and French ... but the affair is now beginning to blow over.105
A truce to such topics. It is now time to furnish you with some details relating to your favourite subjects of ARCHITECTURAL ANTIQUITIES and BIBLIOGRAPHY. The former shall take precedence. First of the streets; secondly of the houses; and thirdly of the public buildings; ecclesiastical and civil.
To begin with the STREETS. Those of St. Pierre, Notre Dame, and St. Jean are the principal for bustle and business. The first two form one continuous line, leading to the abbey of St. Stephen, and afford in fact a very interesting stroll to the observer of men and manners. The shops are inferior to those of Rouen, but a great shew of business is discernible in them. The street beyond the abbey, and those called Guilbert, and des Chanoines, leading towards the river, are considered among the genteelest. Ducarel pronounced the houses of Caen "mean in general, though usually built of stone;" but I do not agree with him in this conclusion. The open parts about the Lycée and the Abbey of St. Stephen, together with the Place Royale, where the library is situated, form very agreeable spaces for the promenade of the ladies and the exercise of the National Guard. The Courts are full of architectural curiosities, but mostly of the time of Francis I. Of domestic architecture, those houses, with elaborate carvings in wood, beneath a pointed roof, are doubtless of the greatest antiquity. There are a great number of these; and some very much older than others.
A curious old house is to the right hand corner of the street St. Jean: as you go to the Post Office. But I must inform you that the residence of the famous MALHERBE yet exists in the street leading to the Abbey of St. Stephen. This house is of the middle of the sixteenth century: and what Corneille is to Rouen, Malherbe is to Caen. "ICI NAQUIT MALHERBE," &c. as you will perceive from the annexed view of this house, inscribed upon the front of the building. Malherbe has been doomed to receive greater honours. His head was first struck, in a series of medals, to perpetuate the resemblances of the most eminent literary characters (male and female) in France: and it is due to the amiable Pierre-Aimé Lair to designate him as the FATHER of this medallic project.