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Title: A Year's Journey through France and Part of Spain, Volume II (of 2)
Author: Philip Thicknesse
Release Date: November 4, 2005 [eBook #16994]
Language: English
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A YEAR'S JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE, AND PART OF SPAIN.
by
PHILIP THICKNESSE.
VOLUME II
Dublin
Printed by J. Williams, (No. 21.) Skinner-Row.
M,DCC,LXXVII.
A
JOURNEY, &c.
LETTER XXXIV.
NISMES
SIR,
I am very certain that a man may travel twice through Spain, and half
through France, before he sees a woman of so much beauty, elegance, and
breeding, as the mistress of the house I lodge in near this city. I was
directed to the house, and recommended to the lady, as a lodger; but
both were so fine, and superior in all respects to any thing I had seen
out of Paris, that I began to suspect I had been imposed upon. The lady
who received me appeared to be (it was candle-light) about eighteen, a
tall, elegant figure, a beautiful face, and an address inferior to none:
I concluded she was the daughter, till she informed me, that _Mons.
Saigny_, her husband, was gone to _Avignon_. What added, perhaps, to
this lady's beauty in my eyes, or rather ears, was her misfortune,--she
could not speak louder than a gentle whisper. After seeing her sumptuous
apartments, I told her I would not ask what her price was, but tell her
what I could afford only to give; and observed, that as it was winter,
and the snow upon the ground, perhaps she had better take my price than
have none. She instantly took me by the hand and said, she had so much
respect for the English nation, that my price was her's; and with a
still softer whisper, and close to my ear, said, I might come in as soon
as I pleased--"_Quand vous voudrez, Monsieur_," said she. We accordingly
took possession of the finest apartments, and the best beds I ever lay
on. The next day, I saw a genteel stripling about the house, in a white
suit of cloaths, dressed _en militaire_, and began to suspect the virtue
of my fair hostess, not perceiving for some hours that it was my hostess
herself; in the afternoon she made us a visit in this horrid
dress,--(for horrid she appeared in my eyes)--her cloaths were white,
with red cuffs and scarlet _lappels_; and she held in her straddling lap
a large black muff, as big as a porridge-pot. By this visit she lost all
that respect her superlative beauty had so justly entitled her to, and I
determined she should visit me no more in man's apparel. When I went
into the town I mentioned this circumstance, and there I learnt, that
the real wife of _Mons. Saigny_ had parted from him, and that the lady,
my hostess, was his mistress. The next day, however, the master arrived;
and after being full and finely dressed, he made me a visit, and
proffers of every attention in his power: he told me he had injured his
fortune, and that he was not rich; but that he had served in the army,
and was a gentleman: he had been bred a protestant, but had just
embraced the true faith, in order to qualify himself for an employment
about the court of the Pope's _Legate_ at _Avignon_. After many
expressions of regard, he asked me to dine with him the next day; but I
observed that as he was not rich, and as I paid but a small rent in
proportion to his noble apartments, I begged to be excused; but he
pressed it so much, that I was obliged to give him some _other reasons_,
which did not prove very pleasing ones, to the lady below. This fine
lady, however, continued to sell us wood, wine, vinegar, sallad, milk,
and, in short, every thing we wanted, at a very unreasonable price. At
length, my servant, who by agreement made my soup in their kitchen, said
something rude to my landlord, who complained to me, and seemed
satisfied with the reprimand I had given the man; but upon a repetition
of his rudeness, _Mons. Saigny_ so far forgot himself as to speak
equally rude to me: this occasioned some warm words, and so much
ungovernable passion in him, that I was obliged to tell him I must fetch
down my pistols; this he construed into a direct challenge, and
therefore retired to his apartments, wrote a card, and sent it to me
while I was walking before the door with a priest, his friend and
visitor, and in sight of the _little female captain his second_, and all
the servants of the house; on this card was wrote, "_Sir, I accept your
proposition_;" and before I could even read it, he followed his man, who
brought it in the true stile of a butler, rather than a butcher, with a
white napkin under his arm. You may be sure, I was no more disposed to
fight than _Mons. Saigny_; indeed, I told him I would not; but if any
man attacked me on my way to or from the town, where I went every day, I
would certainly defend myself: and fortunately I never met _Mons.
Saigny_ in the fortnight I staid after in his house; for I could not
bear to leave a town where I had two or three very agreeable
acquaintance, and one (_Mons. Seguier_) whose house was filled as full
of natural and artificial curiosities, as his head is with learning and
knowledge. Here too I had an opportunity of often visiting the
Amphitheatre, _the Maison Carree_, (so Mons. Seguier writes it) and the
many remains of Roman monuments so common in and about _Nismes_. I
measured some of the stones under which I passed to make the _tout au
tour_ of the Amphitheatre, they were seventeen feet in length, and two
in thickness; and most of the stones on which the spectators sat within
the area, were twelve feet long, two feet ten inches wide, and one foot
five inches deep; except only those of the sixth row of seats from the
top, and they alone are one foot ten inches deep; probably it was on
that range the people of the highest rank took their seats, not only for
the elevation, but the best situation for sight and security; yet one of
these great stones cannot be considered more, in comparison to the
whole building, than a single brick would be in the construction of
Hampton-Court Palace. When I had the sole possession (and I had it
often) of this vast range of seats, where emperors, empresses, Roman
knights, and matrons, have been so often seated, to see men die wantonly
by the hands of other men, as well as beasts for their amusement, I
could not but with pleasure reflect, how much human nature is softened
since that time; for notwithstanding the powerful prevalency of custom
and fashion, I do not think the ladies of the present age would _plume_
their towering heads, and curl their _borrowed_ hair, with that glee, to
see men murdered by missive weapons, as to die at their feet by deeper,
tho' less visible wounds. If, however, we have not those cruel sports,
we seem to be up with them in prodigality, and to exceed them in luxury
and licentiousness; for in Rome, not long before the final dissolution
of the state, the candidates for public employments, in spite of the
penal laws to restrain it, _bribed openly_, and were chosen sometimes
_by arms_ as well as money. In the senate, things were conducted no
better; decrees of great consequence were made when very few senators
were present; the laws were violated by private knaves, under the colour
of public necessity; till at length, _Cæsar_ seized the sovereign power,
and tho' he was slain, they omitted to recover their liberty, forgetting
that
"A day, an hour, of virtuous Liberty
Is worth a whole eternity of bondage."
_Addison's_ CATO.
I can almost think I read in the parallel, which I fear will soon be
drawn between the rise and fall of the British and Roman empire,
something like this;--"Rome had her CICERO; Britain her CAMDEN: Cicero,
who had preserved Rome from the conspiracy of _Catiline_, was banished:
CAMDEN, who would have preserved Britain from a bloody civil war,
removed." The historian will add, probably, that "those who brought
desolation upon their land, did not mean that there should be no
commonwealth, but that right or wrong, they should continue to controul
it: they did not mean to burn the capitol to ashes, but to bear absolute
sway in the capitol:--The result was, however, that though they did not
mean to overthrow the state, yet they risqued all, rather than be
overthrown themselves; and they rather promoted the massacre of their
fellow-citizens, than a reconciliation and union of parties,"--THUS FELL
ROME--Take heed, BRITAIN!
LETTER XXXV.
ARLES.
I left _Nismes_ reluctantly, having formed there an agreeable and
friendly intimacy with Mr. _D'Oliere_, a young gentleman of Switzerland;
and an edifying, and entertaining acquaintance, with Mons. _Seguier_. I
left too, the best and most sumptuous lodgings I had seen in my whole
tour; but a desire to see _Arles_, _Aix_, and _Marseilles_, &c. got the
better of all. But I set out too soon after the snow and rains, and I
found part of the road so bad, that I wonder how my horse dragged us
through so much clay and dirt. When I gave you some account of the
antiquities of _Nismes_, I did not expect to find _Arles_ a town fraught
with ten times more matter and amusement for an antiquarian; but I found
it not only a fine town now, but that it abounds with an infinite number
of monuments which evince its having once been an almost second Rome.
There still remains enough of the Amphitheatre to convince the beholder
what a noble edifice it was, and to wonder why so little, of so large
and solid a building, remains. The town is built on the banks of the
Rhone, over which, on a bridge of barges, we entered it; but it is
evident, that in former days, the sea came quite up to it, and that it
was a haven for ships of burden; but the sea has retired some leagues
from it, many ages since; beside an hundred strong marks at _this_ day
of its having been a sea-port formerly, the following inscription found
a century or two ago, in the church of _St. Gabriel_, will clearly
confirm it:
M. FRONTONI EVPOR
IIIIIIVIR AVG. COL. JVLIA.
AVG. AQVIS SEXTIIS NAVICVLAR.
MAR. AREL. CVRAT EJVSD. CORP.
PATRONA NAVTAR DRVENTICORVM.
ET VTRICVLARIORVM.
CORP. ERNAGINENSIUM.
JULIA NICE VXOR.
CONJVGI KARISSIMO.
Indeed there are many substantial reasons to believe, that it was at
this town _Julius Cæsar_ built the twelve gallies, which, from the
cutting of the wood to the time they were employed on service, was but
thirty days.--That it was a very considerable city in the time of the
first Emperors, is past all doubt. _Constantine_ the Great held his
court, and resided at _Arles_, with all his family; and the Empress
_Faustina_ was delivered of a son here (_Constantine_ the younger) and
it was long before so celebrated for an annual fair held in the month of
August, that it was called _le Noble Marche de Gaules_. And _Strabo_, in
his dedication of his book to the Emperor, called it "_Galliarum
Emporium non Parvum_;" which is a proof that it was celebrated for its
rich commerce, &c. five hundred years before it became under the
dominion of the Romans. But were I capable of giving you a particular
description of all the monuments of antiquity in and near this town, it
would compose a little book, instead of a sheet or two of paper. I
shall therefore only pick out a few things which have afforded me the
most entertainment, and I hope may give you a little; but I shall begin
with mentioning what must first give you concern, in saying that in that
part of the town called _la Roquette_, I was shewn the place where
formerly stood an elevated Altar whereon, three young citizens were
sacrificed annually, and who were fattened at the public expence during
a whole year, for the horrid purpose! On the first of May their throats
were cut in the presence of a prodigious multitude of people assembled
from all parts; among whom the blood of the victims was thrown, as they
imagined all their sins were expiated by that barbarous sacrifice; which
horrid practice was put a stop to by the first Bishop of _Arles_, ST.
TROPHIME. The Jews, who had formerly a synagogue in _Arles_, were driven
out in the year 1493, when that and their celebrated School were
demolished. There were found about an hundred after, among the stones
of those buildings some Hebrew characters neatly cut, which were copied
and sent to the Rabbins of Avignon, to be translated, and who explained
them then thus:
Chodesh: Elvl. Chamescheth, lamech, nav. Nislamv. Bedikoth.
Schradai.
i.e. they say,
"In the month of August five thousand and thirty--the Visitation
of God ceased."
Perhaps the plague had visited them.--There was also another Hebrew
inscription, which was on the tomb of a famous Rabbin called Solomon,
surnamed the grandson of David.
The Amphitheatre of _Arles_ was of an oval form, composed of three
stages; each stage containing sixty arches; the whole was built of hewn
stone of an immense size, without mortar, and of a prodigious thickness:
the circumference above, exclusive of the projection of the
architecture, was 194 toises three feet, the frontispiece 17 toises
high and the area 71 toises long and 52 wide; the walls were 17 toises
thick, which were pierced round and round with a gallery, for a
convenience of passing in and out of the seats, which would conveniently
contain 30,000 men, allowing each person three feet in depth and two in
width; and yet, there remain at this day only a few arches quite
complete from top to bottom, which are of themselves a noble monument.
Indeed one would be inclined to think that it never had been compleated,
did we not know that the Romans left nothing unfinished of that kind;
and read, that the Emperor _Gallus_ gave some superb spectacles in the
Amphiteatre of _Arles_, and that the same amusements were continued by
following Emperors. Nothing can be a stronger proof than these ruins, of
the certain destruction and corruption of all earthly things; for one
would think that the small parts which now remain of this once mighty
building would, endure as long as the earth itself; but what is very
singular is, that this very Amphitheatre was built upon the ruins of a
more mighty building, and perhaps one of a more substantial structure.
_Tempus edax rerum, tuque invidiosa vetustas omnia destruis_. In the
street called _St. Claude_, stood a triumphal arch which was called
_L'Arche admirable_; it is therefore natural to conclude, that the town
contained many others of less beauty. There are also within the walls
large remains of the palace of _Constantine_. A beautiful antique statue
of _Venus_ was found here also, about an hundred and twenty years
ago.--That a _veritable_ fine woman should set all the beaux and
_connoisseurs_ of a whole town in a flame, I do not much wonder; but you
will be surprized when I tell you that this cold trunk of marble, (for
the arms were never found) put the whole town of _Arles_ together by the
ears; one _Sçavant_ said it was the goddess _Diana_, and wrote a book to
prove it; another insisted upon it, that it was the true image of
_Venus_; then starts up an Ecclesiastic, who _you know has nothing to
do with women_, and he pronounced in dogmatical terms, it was neither
one nor the other; at length the wiser magistrates of the town agreed to
send it as a present to their august monarch Lewis the XIVth; and if you
have a mind to see an inanimate woman who has made such a noise in the
world, you will find her at _Versailles_, without any other notice taken
of her or the quarrels about her, than the following words written (I
think) upon her pedestal, _La Venus d'Arles_. This ended the dispute, as
I must my letter.
LETTER XXXVI.
I have not half done with _Arles_. The more I saw and heard in this
town, the more I found was to be seen. The remains of the Roman theatre
here would of itself be a sufficient proof that it was a town of great
riches and importance. Among the refuse of this building they found
several large vases of baked earth, which were open on one side, and
which were fixed properly near the seats of the audience to receive and
convey the sounds of the instruments and voices of the actors distinctly
throughout the theatre, which had forty-eight arches, eleven behind the
scenes of ten feet wide, three grand arches of fourteen feet wide, and
thirty-one of twelve feet; the diameter was thirty-one canes, and the
circumference seventy-nine; and from the infinite number of beautiful
pieces of sculpture, frizes, architraves, pillars of granite, &c. which
have been dug up, it is very evident that this theatre was a most
magnificent building, and perhaps would have stood firm to this day, had
not a Bishop of _Arles_, from a principle of more piety than wisdom,
stript it of the finest ornaments and marble pillars, to adorn the
churches. Near the theatre stood also the famous temple of _Diana_; and,
as the famous statue mentioned in my former letter was found beneath
some noble marble pillars near that spot, it is most likely _La Venus
d'Arles_ is nevertheless the Goddess _Diana_.
I never wish more for your company than when I walk, (and I walk every
day) in the Elysian fields. The spot is beautiful, the prospect far and
near equally so: in the middle of this ancient _Cimetiere_ stands a
motly building, from the middle of which however rises a cupola, which
at the first view informs you it is the work of a Roman artist; and here
you must, as it were, thread the needle between an infinite number of
Pagan and Christian monuments, lying thick upon the surface in the
utmost disorder and confusion, insomuch, that one would think the Day of
Judgment was arrived and the dead were risen. Neither _Stepney_
church-yard, nor any one in or near a great city, shew so many
headstones as this spot does stone coffins of an immense size, hewn out
of one piece; the covers of most of which have been broken or removed
sufficiently to search for such things as were usually buried with the
dead. Some of these monuments, and some of the handsomest too, are still
however unviolated. It is very easy to distinguish the Pagan from the
Christian monnments, without opening them, as all the former have the
Roman letters DM (_Diis Manibus_) cut upon them. It is situated,
according to their custom, near the high-way, the water, and the
marshes. You know the ancients preferred such spots for the interment of
the dead.
The tombs of _Ajax_ and _Hector_, HOMER says, were near the sea, as well
as other heroes of antiquity; for as they considered man to be composed
of earth and water, his bones ought to be laid in one, and near the
other.
I will now give you a few of the most curious inscriptions; but first I
will mention a noble marble monument, moved from this spot into the
_Cimetiere_ of the great Hospital. This tomb is ornamented with
Cornucopiæ, _Pateræ_, &c. and in a shield the following inscription:
CABILIAE D.F. APPRVLLAE FLAM
D DESIGNATAE COL. DEA. AUG. VOC. M
O. ANNOS XIIII, MENS II. DIES V.
MARITVS VXORI PIENTISSIMAE.
POSUIT.
This poor girl was not only too young to die, but too young to marry,
one would think; I wish therefore her afflicted husband had told us how
many years he had been married to a wife who died at the age of
fourteen, two months, and five days. The cornucopiæ, I suppose, were to
signify that this virtuous wife, I was going to say maid, was the source
of all his pleasure and happiness. The _Pateræ_ were vases destined to
receive the blood of the victims.
Supponunt alij cultros, tepidumque cruorem
Suscipiunt Pateris,--_Says the Poet_.
On each side of the tomb are the symbols of sacrifice. It is very
evident from the fine polish of this monument, that her husband had
obtained the Emperor's particular leave to finish it highly.
Rogum _ascia ne Polito_ says the law of the twelve tables.
On another tomb, which is of common stone, in the middle of a shield
supported by two Cupids, is the following inscription:
M IVNIO MESSIANO
----VTRICI. CORP. ARELAT.
D EIVS D. CORP. MAG. III. F M
QUI VIXIT ANN. XXVIII.
M. V. D. X. IVNIA VALERIA.
ALVMNO CLARISSIMO.
The first word of the second line is much obliterated.
There are an infinite number of other monuments with inscriptions; but
those above, and this below, will be sufficient for me to convey to you,
and you to my friend at _Winchester_.
L DOMIT. DOMITIANI
EX TRIERARCHI CLASS. GERM.
D PECCOCEIA VALENTINA M
CONIUGI PIENTISSIMA.
Before I leave _Arles_, and I leave it reluctantly, whatever you may do,
I must not omit to mention the principal monument, and pride of it, at
this day, i.e. their Obelisque. I will not tell you where nor when it
was dug up; it is sufficient to say, it was found here, that it is a
single piece of granite, sixty-one feet high, and seven feet square
below; yet it was elevated in the Market-place, upon a modern pedestal,
which bears four fulsome complimentary inscriptions to _Lewis_ the XIV.
neither of which will I copy. In elevating this monstrous single stone,
the inhabitants were very adroit: they set it upright in a quarter of an
hour, in the year 1676, just an hundred years ago, amidst an infinite
number of joyful spectators, who are now all laid in their lowly graves;
for though it weighed more than two thousand hundred weight, yet by the
help of capsterns, it was raised without any difficulty. The great King
_Harry_ the IVth had ordered the houses in the arena of the Amphitheatre
to be thrown down, and this obelisk to be fixed in the center of it; but
his death, and _Lewis_'s vanity, fixed it where it now stands; it has
no beauty however to boast of but its age and size, for it bears neither
polish, characters, nor hieroglyphicks, but, as it seems to have been an
Egyptian monument, the inhabitants of _Arles_ have, like those people,
consecrated it below to their King, and above to the sun: on the top is
fixed a globe of azure, sprinkled with _fleurs de lis d'or_, and crowned
with a radiant sun, that is to say, as the sun was made by GOD to
enlighten the world, so LEWIS LE GRAND was made to govern it.
I am sure now, you will excuse my mentioning what is said of this great
man _below_; but speaking of light, I must not omit to mention, that
there are men of veracity now living in this town, who affirm, that they
have seen, upon opening some of the ancient monuments here, the eternal
lamps burning. The number of testimonies we have of this kind puts the
matter past a doubt, that a flame has appeared at the lip of these
lamps when first the tombs have been opened; one was found, you know, on
the _Appian_ way, in the tomb of _Cicero_'s daughter, which had burnt
more than seventeen centuries; another at _Padua_, which had burnt eight
hundred years, and which was found hanging between two little phials,
one of gold, the other of silver, which were both quite full of liquor,
extremely clear, as well as many others; but as it is impossible to
believe that flame can exist, and not consume that which feeds it, is it
not more natural to conclude that those lamps, phials, &c. contained a
species of phosphorus, which became luminous upon the first opening of
the tombs and the sudden rushing in of fresh air; and that the reverse
of what is generally supposed is the fact, that they are not
extinguished, but illuminated by the fresh air they receive? I have seen
several of these lamps here and elsewhere, most of which are of baked
earth. It has been said, that there is an oil to be extracted from gold,
which will not consume, and that a wick of _asbestos_ has burnt many
years in this oil, without consumption to either. I have seen a book
written by a German Jesuit, to confirm this fact; so there is authority
for you, if not conviction.
As I know your keen appetite after antiquities, I will send you a few
other inscriptions, and leave you to make your own comments; and
_voila_.
D M
L. HOSTIL. TER.
SILVANI.
ANN. XXIIII. M. II. D.
XV MATER FIL PIJSSIMI
MISERA ET IN LVCIV.
AETERNALI BENIFICI.
O NOVERCAE.
The following inscription is cut upon a marble column, which stands near
the Jesuits' church:
SALVIS D.D.N.N. THEODOSIO, ET VALENTINIANO.
P.F.V. AC TRIVM. SEMPER AUG. XV.
CONS. VIR. INL. AUXILIARIS PRÆ.
PRÆT, GALLIA. DE ARELATE MA,
MILLIARIA PONI. S.
M.P.S.
In the ancient church of _St. Honore_, which stands in the center of all
these Heathen and Christian monuments, are to be seen nine Bacchanalians
of very ancient workmanship; where also is the tomb of _St. Honore_,
employed as the altar of the church; and beneath the church are
catacombs, where the first Christians retired to prayer during the
persecution by the Emperors, and where is still to be seen their altar
and seven ancient sepulchres, of beautiful marble, and exquisitely
worked; the first is the tomb of _St. Genet_; the second of _St.
Roland_, Archbishop of _Arles_; the third of _St. Concord_, with an
epitaph, and two doves with olive branches in their beaks, cut in bass
relief, and underneath are the two letters X and P; on this tomb is the
miraculous cross seen in the heavens by _Constantine_, who is
represented before it on his knees; and on the cover of this tomb are
the heads of _Constantine_, _Faustina_, and his son; and they say the
Emperor saw this miracle in the heaven from the very _Cimetiere_ in
which this monument stands, i.e. in the year 315; the fifth is the tomb
of _St. Dorothy_, Virgin and Martyr of _Arles_; the sixth _St. Virgil_,
and the seventh _St. Hiliare_, (both Archbishops of _Arles_,) who has
borrowed a Pagan sepulchre, for it is adorned with the principal
divinities of the ancients in bass relief.--It seems odd to see on a
Christian Bishop's tomb _Venus_, and the three Destinies. The people
here say, that this tomb represents human life, as the ancients believed
that each God contributed something towards the being. Be that as it
may, the tomb is a very curious one, and much admired by the
_Connoisseurs_, for its excellent workmanship; but what is more
extraordinary than all these, is, that this catacomb, standing in the
middle of the others, with its cover well and closely fixed, has always
water in it, and often is quite full, and nobody can tell (_but one of
the priests perhaps_) from what source it comes. There is also in this
church the tomb and a long Latin Epitaph of _St. Trophime_, their first
Bishop; but the characters are very Gothic, and the Cs are square,
[Image: E E with no mid bar]; he came here in the year 61, and preached
down that abominable practice of sacrificing three young men annually.
He died in the year 61, at 72 years of age. On the front of the
Metropolitan church of _Arles_, called _St. Trophime_, are the two
following lines, in Gothic characters, cut above a thousand years:
Cernitur eximius vir Christi Discipulorum,
De Numero Trophimus, hic Septuaginta duorum.
This church was built in the year 625, by _St. Virgil_, and is a curious
piece of antiquity within, and particularly without; but I will not
omit to give you one of its singularities within; it is an ancient and
curious inscription in large Gothic letters, near the organ:
Terrarum Roma Gemina de luce majistrA.
Ros Missus Semper Aderit: velut incola IoseP
Olim Contrito Letheo Contulit OrchO.
To read this you will see you must take the first letter of each verse:
TRO, _Trophemus_; GAL, _Galliæorum_; and APO, _Apostolus_. The letter H,
belonging to the word _Joseph_, must be carried to the word _Orcho_, and
the P must stand by itself.
_Trophimus Galliarum Apostolus, ut ros missus est, ex urbe Romæ rerum
Dominæ Gemina de luce, scilicet a Petro et Paulo, Ecclesiæ luminaribus;
Contrito orcho Letheo, nempe statim post Christi Passionem qua Dæmonis &
orchi caput contrivit, semper animos nostras nutriet, cibo illo, divinæ
fidei quem nobis contulit: ut alter Joseph qui olim Ægypti populum same
pereuntem liberavit._
LETTER XXXVII.
MARSEILLES.
Soon after we left the town of _Arles_, on our way to _Aix_, and this
city, we entered upon a most extraordinary and extensive plain; it is
called the _Crau_, and is a principal and singular domain, belonging to
and situated on the south side of that city; it is ten leagues in
diameter; on which vast extent, scarce a tree, shrub, or verdure is
visible; the whole spot being covered with flint stones of various
sizes, and of singular shapes. _Petrarch_ says, as _Strabo_, and others
have said before him, that those flint stones fell from Heaven like
hail, when _Hercules_ was fighting there against the giants, who,
finding he was likely to be overcome, invoked his father _Jupiter_, who
rained this hard shower of flint stones upon his enemies, which is
confirmed by _Æschylus_.
"Jupiter Alcidem quando respexit inormem,
Illachrymans, Ligures saxoso perpluit imbre."
But as this account may not be quite satisfactory to you, who I know
love truth more than fable, I am inclined to think you will consider
_Possidonius_'s manner of accounting for it more feasible: He says, that
it was once a great lake, and having a bed of gravel at the bottom,
those pebble stones, by a succession of ages, have grown to the size
they now appear; but whether stones grow which lie upon the surface of
the earth and out of their proper strata, I must leave you and other
naturalists to determine, without repeating to you what _Aristotle_, and
others, have said upon that subject; and therefore, instead of telling
you either what they say, or I think, I will tell you what I know, which
is, that barren as the _Crau_ appears to be, it not only feeds, but
fattens an infinite number of sheep and cattle, and produces such
excellent wine too in some parts of it, that it is called _Vin de
Crau_, by way of pre-eminence: it has a poignant quality, is very
bright, and is much esteemed for its delicious flavour. The herb which
fattens the sheep and feeds such quantities of cattle is a little plant
which grows between and under the flint stones, which the sheep and
other animals turn up with their feet, to come at the bite; beside
which, there grows a plant on this _Crau_ that bears a vermilion flower,
from which the finest scarlet dye is extracted; it is a little red
grain, about the size of pea, and is gathered in the month of May; it
has been sold for a crown a pound formerly; and a single crop has
produced eleven thousand weight. This berry is the harvest of the poor,
who are permitted to gather it on a certain day, but not till the Lord
of the Manor gives notice by the sound of a horn, according to an
ancient custom and privilege granted originally by King RENE.--On my way
over it, I _gathered_ only a great number of large larks by the help of
my gun, though I did not forget my _Montserrat_ vow: It was a fine day,
and therefore I did not find it so tedious as it must be in winter or
bad weather; for if any thing can be worse than sea, in bad weather, it
must be this vast plain, which is neither land or sea, though not very
distant from the latter, and in all probability was many ages since
covered by the ocean.
The first town we came to after passing this vast plain, I have forgot
the name of; but it had nothing but its antiquity and a noble and
immense old castle to recommend it, except a transparent agate statue of
the Virgin in the church, as large as the life, with a _tin crown_ upon
her head. Neither the town nor the inhabitants had any thing of the
appearance of French about them; every thing and every body looked so
wild, and the place was in such a ruinous condition, that I could scarce
believe I was not among the Arabs in _Egypt_, or the ruins of
_Persepolis_. Without the town, in a fine beautiful lawn stands a most
irregular high and rude rock, perpendicular on all sides, and under one
side of it are ruins of a house, which I suppose was inhabited by the
first _Seigneur_ in the province. I looked in, and found the ruins full
of miserable inhabitants, I fancy many families; but it exhibited such a
scene of woe, that I was glad to get out again; and upon inquiry, I
found it had been in that state ever since it had been used as an
hospital during the last plague.
LETTER XXXVIII.
MARSEILLES.
As the good and evil, which fall within the line of a road, as well as a
worldly traveller, are by comparison, I need not say what a heavenly
country _France_ (with all its untoward circumstances) appeared to us
_after_ having journeyed in _Spain_: what would have put me out of
temper before, became now a consolation. _How glad I should I have been,
and how perfectly content, had it been thus in Spain_, was always
uppermost, when things ran a little cross in France.
Travellers and strangers in France, in a long journey perhaps, have no
connection with any people, but such who have a design upon their purse.
At every _Auberge_ some officious coxcomb lies in wait to ensnare them,
and under one pretence or other, introduces himself; he will offer to
shew you the town; if you accept it, you are saddled with an impertinent
visiter the whole time you stay; if you refuse it, he is affronted; so
let him; for no gentleman ever does that without an easy or natural
introduction; and then, if they are men of a certain age, their
acquaintance is agreeable and useful. An under-bred Frenchman is the
most offensive civil thing in the world: a well-bred Frenchman, quite
the reverse.--Having dined at the table of a person of fashion at _Aix_,
a pert priest, one the company, asked me many questions relative to the
customs and manners of the English nation; and among other things, I
explained to him the elegance in which the tables of people of the first
fashion were served; and told him, that when any one changed his dish,
that his plate, knife and fork, were changed also, and that they were as
perfectly bright and clean as the day they came from the silver-smith's
shop. After a little pause, and a significant sneer,--Pray Sir, (said
he) and do you not change your napkins also? I was piqued a little, and
told him we did not, but that indeed I had made a little mistake, which
I would rectify, which was, that though I had told him the plate, knife,
and fork, were so frequently changed at genteel tables in England, there
was one exception to it; for it sometimes happened that low under-bred
priests (especially on a Sunday) were necessarily admitted to the tables
of people of fashion, and that the butler sometimes left them to wipe
their knife upon their bread, as I had often seen _Lewis_ the Fifteenth
do, even after eating fish with it.--As it was on a Sunday I had met
with this fop of divinity, at a genteel table, I thought I had been even
with him, and I believe he thought so too, for he asked me no more
questions; yet he assured me at his going out, "_he had the honour to be
my most obedient humble servant_." This over-strained civility, so
unlike good-breeding, puts me in mind of what was said of poor Sir WM.
ST. Q----N, after his death, by an arch wag at _Bath_: Sir William, you
know, was a polite old gentleman, but had the manners and breeding
rather of the late, than the present age, and though a man deservedly
esteemed for his many virtues, was by some thought too ceremonious.
Somebody at the round table at _Morgan_'s Coffee-house happened to say,
alas! poor Sir William! he is gone; but he was a good man, and is surely
gone to Heaven, and I can tell you what he said when he first entered
the holy gates! the interrogation followed of course: Why, said he,
seeing a large concourse of departed souls, and not a soul that he knew,
he bowed to the right and left, said he begged pardon,--he feared he was
troublesome, and if so, he would instantly retire.--So the Frenchman,
when he says he would cut himself in four pieces to serve you, only
means to be very civil, and he will be so, if it does not put him to
any expence.
_Aix_ is a well built city; the principal street called the _Course_, is
very long, very broad, and shaded by stately trees; in the middle of it
are four or five fountains, constantly running, one of which is of very
hot water, at which man and beast are constantly drinking. The city
abounds with a great deal of good company, drawn to it from all parts of
Europe by the efficacy of the waters, and to examine its antiquities,
for it has in and about it many Greek as well as Roman monuments.
Some part of the country between _Aix_ and this populous city is very
beautiful, but near the town scarce any vegetation is seen; on all sides
high hills and broken rocks present themselves; and one wonders how a
city so large and so astonishingly populous is supported. When I first
approached the entrance gate, it opened a perspective view of the
_Course_, a street of great extent, where the heads of the people were
so thick together, that I concluded it was a FAIR day, and that the
whole country was collected together; but I found it was every day the
same. I saw a prodigious quantity of game and provisions of all kinds,
not only in the shops, but in the streets, and concluded it was not only
a cheap, but a plentiful country; but I soon found my mistake, it was
the evening before Lent commenced, and I could find no provisions of any
kind very easily afterwards, and every thing very dear. You may imagine
the price of provisions at _Marseilles_ when I tell you that they have
their poultry from _Lyons_; it is however a noble city, crouded with men
of all nations, walking in the streets in the proper habits of their
country. The harbour is the most secure sea-port in Europe, being
land-locked on all sides, except at a verry narrow entrance; and as
there is very little rise or fall of water, the vessels are always
afloat. Many of the galley slaves have little shops near the spot where
the galleys are moored, and appear happy and decently dressed; some of
them are rich, and make annual remittances to their friends. In the
_Hotel de Ville_ are two fine large pictures, which were taken lately
from the Jesuits' college; one represents the dreadful scenes which were
seen in the _Grand Course_ during the great plague at _Marseilles_; the
other, the same sad scene on the Quay, before the doors of the house in
which it now hangs. A person cannot look upon these pictures one minute
before he becomes enthralled in the woes which every way present
themselves. You see the good Bishop confessing the sick, the carts
carrying out the dead, children sucking at the breasts of their dead
mothers, wives and husbands bewailing, dead bodies lowering out of the
higher windows by cords, the slaves plundering, the Priests exhorting,
and such a variety of interesting and afflicting scenes so forcibly
struck out by the painter, that you seem to hear the groans, weepings,
and bewailings, from the dying, the sick and the sound; and the eye and
mind have no other repose on these pictures but by fixing it on a dead
body. The painter, who was upon the spot, has introduced his own figure,
but armed like a serjeant with a halberd. The pictures are indeed
dreadfully fine; one is much larger than the other; and it is said the
town Magistrates cut it to fit the place it is in; but it is impossible
to believe any body of men could be guilty of such an act of
_barbarism_! There is still standing in this town, the house of a Roman
senator, now inhabited by a shoe-maker. In the cathedral they have a
marble-stone, on which there is engraved, in Arabic characters, a
monumental inscription to the following effect:
"GOD is alone permanent.
This is the Sepulchre of his servant and Martyr,
who having placed his confidence in the Most
High, he trusts that his sins will be forgiven."
JOSEPH, son of ABDALLAH, of the town of _Metelin_,
died in the moon _Zilhage_.
I bought here an Egyptian household _God_, or _Lar_ of solid metal,
which was lately dug up near the city walls; it is about nine inches
high, and weighs about five pounds. Several of the hieroglyphic
characters are visible on the breast and back, and its form is that of
an embalmed mummy. By a wholesome law of this city, the richest citizen
must be buried like the poorest, in a coffin of nine livres value, and
that coffin must be bought at the general Hospital. The sale of these
coffins for the dead, goes a great way towards the support of the poor
and the sick.
At this town I experienced the very reverse in every respect of what I
met with at _Barcelona_, though I had no better recommendation to Mr.
BIRBECK, his Britannick Majesty's Agent here, than I had to the Consul
of _Barcelona_; he took my word, at first sight, nay, he took my notes
and gave me money for them, and shewed me and my family many marks of
friendly attention: Such a man, at such a distance from ones own
country, is a cordial to a troubled breast, and an acquisition to every
Englishman who goes there either for health or curiosity. Mr. _Birbeck_
took me with him to a noble Concert, to which he is an annual
subscriber, and which was performed in a room in every respect suitable
to so large a band, and so brilliant an assembly: He and his good wife
were the only two British faces I had seen for many months, who looked
like Britons. I shall, indeed I must, soon leave this town, and shall
take _Avignon_ on my way to _Lyons_, from whence you shall soon hear
from me again.
I had forgot to mention, when I was speaking of _Montpellier_, that the
first gentry are strongly impressed with the notion of the superiority
of the English, in every part of philosophy, more especially in the
science of physic; and I found at _Montpellier_, that these sentiments
so favourable to our countrymen, had been much increased by the
extraordinary knowledge and abilities of Dr. MILMAN, an English
physician, who resided there during the winter 1775. This gentleman, who
is one of Doctor RADCLIFFE'S travelling physicians, had performed
several very astonishing cures, in cases which the French Physicians had
long treated without success: And indeed the French physicians, however
checked by interest or envy, were obliged to acknowledge this
gentleman's uncommon sagacity in the treatment of diseases. What I say
of this ingenious traveller, is for your sake more than his; for I know
nothing more of him than the fame he has left behind him at
_Montpellier_, and which I doubt not will soon be verified by his deeds
among his own countrymen.
LETTER XXXIX.
AVIGNON.
There is no dependence on what travellers say of different towns and
places they have visited, and therefore you must not lay too much stress
upon what I say. A Lady of fashion, who had travelled all over France,
gave the preference to the town I wrote last to you from (_Marseilles_);
to me, the climate excepted, it is of all others the most disagreeable;
yet that Lady did not mean to deceive; but people often prefer the town
for the sake of the company they find, or some particular or local
circumstance that attended their residence in it; in that respect, I too
left it reluctantly, having met with much civility and some old friends
there; but surely, exclusive of its fine harbour, and favourable
situation for trade, it has little else to recommend it, but riot, mob,
and confusion; provisions are very dear, and not very good.
On our road here we came again through _Aix_. The _Mule blanche_ without
the town, is better than any auberge within, and Mons. _L'Abbe Abrard
Prætor, de la ordre de St. Malta_, is not only a very agreeable, but a
very convenient acquaintance for a stranger, and who is always ready to
shew the English in particular, attention, and who had much attention
shewn him by Lord A. PERCY and his Lady.
From _Aix_ we passed through _Lambresque_, _Orgon_, and _Sencage_, a
fine country, full of almond trees, and which were in full blossom on
the 7th of March. At _Orgon_ the post-house was so bad, that after my
horse was in the stable, I was obliged to put him to, and remove to the
_Soleil d'Or_, without the town, and made a good move too. The situation
of _Notre Dame de St. Piere_, a convent on a high hill, is worthy of
notice, and the antiquity of the town also.--Five leagues from _Orgon_
we crossed a very aukward passage in a ferry-boat, and were landed in
the Pope's territories, about five miles from _Avignon_. The castle, and
higher part of the town, were visible, rising up in the middle of a vast
plain, fertile and beautiful as possible. If we were charmed with the
distant view, we were much more so upon a nearer approach; nothing can
be more pleasing than the well-planted, and consequently well-shaded
coach and foot roads all round this pretty little city; all shut in with
the most beautiful ancient fortification walls I ever beheld, and all in
perfect repair; nor were we asked any questions by the Pope's soldiers,
or Custom-house Officers. I had a letter to Dr. POWER, an English
Physician in this town, who received me with great civity, and made me
known to LORD MOUNTGARRET, and Mr. BUTLER, his son, with whom I had the
honour to spend some very agreeable hours: his Lordship has an
excellent house here, and keeps a table, truly characteristic of the
hospitality of his own country.--And now I cannot help telling you of a
singular disorder which attacked me the very day I arrived; and the
still more singular manner I got well: the day before I arrived, we had
been almost blown along the road to _Orgon_ by a most violent wind; but
I did not perceive that I had received any cold or injury from it, till
we arrived here, and then, I had such an external soreness from head to
foot, that I almost dreaded to walk or stir, and when I did, it was as
slow as my feet could move; after continuing so for some days, I was
much urged to dine with Lord MOUNTGARRET, on St. Patrick's day; I did
so, and by drinking a little more than ordinary, set nature to work,
who, without any other Doctor, did the business, by two or three nights'
copious sweats. I would not have mentioned this circumstance, but it may
be the _mal du pais_, and ought to be mentioned for the _method of
cure_.
There was not quite so good an understanding between the Pope's
_Legate_ and the English residing here, as could be wished; some
untoward circumstance had happened, and there seemed to be faults on
both sides; it was carried, I think, to such a length, that when the
English met him, they did not pull off their hats; but as it happened
before I came, and as in our walks and rides we often met him airing in
his coach, we paid that respect which is everywhere due to a first
magistrate, and he took great pains to return it most graciously; his
livery, guards, &c. make a very splendid appearance: he holds a court,
and is levee'd every Sunday, though not liked by the French. At the
church of St. _Didier_, in a little chapel, of mean workmanship, is the
tomb of the celebrated _Laura_, whose name _Petrarch_ has rendered
immortal; the general opinion is, that she died a virgin; but it appears
by her tomb, that she was the wife of _Hugues de Sade_, and that she
had many children. About two hundred years after her death, some curious
people got permission to open her tomb, in which they found a little
box, containing some verses written by _Petrarch_, and a medallion of
lead, on one side of which was a Lady's head and on the reverse, the
four following letters, M.L.M.E.
_Francis_ the First, passing thro' _Avignon_, visited this tomb, and
left upon it the following epitaph, of his own composition:
"En petit lien compris vous pouvez voir
Ce qui comprend beaucoup par renommèe
Plume, labour le langue & le devoir
Furent vaincus par l'aimant de l'aimée
O gentille ame, etant tant estimée
Qui le pourra louer quen se laissant?
Car la parole est toujours reprimée
Quand le sujet surmonte le disant."
This town is crowded with convents and churches. The convent of the
_Celestines_, founded by _Charles_ the VIth, is richly endowed, and has
noble gardens: there are not above fourteen or fifteen members, and
their revenue is near two thousand pounds sterling a year. In their
church is a very superb monument of Pope _Clement_ the VIIth, who died
here in the year 1394, as a long Latin inscription upon it announces.
They shew in this house a picture, painted by King _Renee_; it
represents the frightful remains of his beloved mistress, whose body he
took out of the grave, and painted it in the state he then found it,
i.e. with the worms crawling about it: it is a hideous figure, and
hideously painted; the stone coffin stands on a line with the figure,
but is above a foot too short for the body; and on the other side is a
long scrole of verses, written in Gothic characters, which begin thus:
"_Une fois fus sur toutes femmes belle
Mais par la mort suis devenue telle
Machair estoit tres-belle fraische & tendre
O'r est elle toute tournee en cendre._"
There follow at least forty other such lines.
There is also in this convent, a fine monument, on which stands the
effigies of _St. Benezet_, a shepherd of _Avignon_, who built (they say)
the bridge from the town over the Rhone, in consequence of a dream, in
the year 1127: some of the noble arches are still standing, and part of
a very pretty chapel on it, nearly in the middle of the river; but a
great part of the bridge has been carried away, many years since, by the
violence of the river, which often not only overflows its banks, but the
lower part of the town. In 1755, it rose seventeen feet higher than its
usual flowing, and I saw marks in many of the streets, high above my
head, against the sides of houses, which it had risen to; but with all
my industry, I could find no _mark upon the house where Lady Mary
Wortley Montagu dwelt_, though she resided some time here, and though I
endeavoured to find it.
I need not describe the celebrated fountain of _Vaucluse_, near this
town, where _Petrarque_ composed his works, and established Mount
Parnassus. This is the only part of France in which there is an
Inquisition, but the Officers seem content with their profits and
honours, without the power.
One part of the town is allotted to the Jews, where about six or seven
hundred live peaceably and have their synagogue; and it was here the
famous rabbin _Joseph Meir_ was born; he died in the year 1554; he was
author, you know, of _Annals des Rois de France_, and _de la Maison
Ottomane_.
Not far from _Avignon_, on the banks of the same rapid river, stands
_Beaucaire_, famous for its annual FAIR, where merchandize is brought
from all parts of Europe, free of all duties: it begins on the 22d of
July; and it is computed that eight million of livres are annually
expended there in eight days. _Avignon_ is remarkable for the No. Seven,
having seven ports, seven parishes, seven colleges, seven hospitals,
and seven monasteries; and I may add, I think, seven hundred bells,
which are always making a horrid jingle, for they have no idea of
ringing bells harmoniously in any part of France.
LETTER XL.
LYONS.
After a month's residence at _Avignon_, where I waited till the weather
and roads amongst the high _Dauphine_ mountains were both improved, I
sat out for this city. I had, you know, outward bound, dropt down to
_Port St. Esprit_ by water, so it was a new scene to us by land, and I
assure you it was a fine one; the vast and extensive rich vales, adorned
on all sides with such romantic mountains, could not be otherwise, in
such a climate. Our first stage was only four leagues to _Orange_; this
is the last town in the Pope's territories; and within a quarter of a
mile of it stands, in a corn field, a beautiful Roman triumphal arch, so
great in _ruins_, that it would be an ornament even in Rome. The _Palais
Royal_ at this town, has nothing to recommend it, but that it affords a
prospect of this rich morsel of antiquity.
From _Orange_ we passed through _Pierlaite, Donzeir_, and several
smaller towns, and we lay one night at a single house, but an excellent
auberge, called _Souce_, kept by an understanding sensible host.
At a little village called _A'tang_, on the banks of the Rhone, we
stopped a day or two, to enjoy the sweet situation. Just opposite to it,
on the other side of the river, stands a large town, (_Tournau_,) which
added to the beauty of our village, over which hangs a very high
mountain, from whence the best Hermitage wine is collected: I suppose it
is called _Hermitage_, from a Hermit's cell on the top of it; but so
unlike the _Montserrat_ Hermitages, that I contented myself with only
tasting the Hermit's wine; it was so good indeed, that though I did not
see how it was possible to get it safe to the north side of France, I
could not withstand the temptation of buying a cask, for which I was to
pay twelve guineas, and did pay one as earnest, to a very sensible, and
I believe honest and opulent wine merchant, who, however, made me a
present of two bottles when I came away, almost worth my guinea; it is
three livres a bottle on the spot; and he shewed me orders he had
received from men of fashion in England, for wine; among which was one
from Mr. _Ryder_, Sir _Dudley Ryder_'s son I fancy, who, I found, was
well satisfied with his former dealings. Do you know that Claret is
greatly improved by a mixture of Hermitage, and that the best Claret we
have in England is generally so _adulterated_?
The next towns we passed were _Pevige_ and _Vienne_, the latter only
five leagues from this city. It is a very ancient town, and was formerly
a Roman colony. The cathedral is a large and noble Gothic structure, and
in it is a fine tomb of Cardinal _Mountmoin_, said to be equal in
workmanship to _Richlieu_'s in the _Sorbonne_, but said to be so, by
people no ways qualified to judge properly; it is indeed an expensive
but a miserable performance, when put in competition with the works of
_Girrardeau_. About half a mile without the town is a noble pyramidal
Roman monument, said to have stood in the center of the Market-place, in
the time of the Romans. There is also to be seen in this town, a Mosaic
pavement discovered only a few years since, wonderfully beautiful
indeed, and near ten feet square, though not quite perfect, being broken
in the night by some malicious people, out of mere wantonness, soon
after it was discovered.
At this town I was recommended to the _Table Round_; but as there are
two, the _grande_ and the _petit_, I must recommend you to the _petit_
where I was obliged to move; for, of all the dreadful women I ever came
near, Madam _Rousillion_ has the _least mellifluous_ notes; her ill
behaviour, however, procured me the honour of a very agreeable
acquaintance, the _Marquis DeValan_, who made me ashamed, by shewing us
an attention we had no right to expect; but this is one, among many
other agreeable circumstances, which attend strangers travelling in
France. French gentlemen never see strangers ill treated, without
standing forth in their defence; and I hope English gentlemen will
follow their example, because it is a piece of justice due to strangers,
in whatever country they are, or whatever country they are from; it is
doing as one would be done by. That prejudice which prevails in England,
even among some people of fashion, against the French nation is
illiberal, in the highest degree; nay, it is more, it is a national
disgrace.--When I recollect with what ease and uninterruption I have
passed through so many great and little towns, and extensive provinces,
without a symptom of wanton rudeness being offered me, I blush to think
how a Frenchman, if he made no better figure than I did, would have
been treated in a tour through Britain.--My Monkey, with a pair of
French jack boots, and his hair _en queue_, rode postillion upon my
sturdy horse some hours every day; such a sight, you may be sure,
brought forth old and young, sick and lame, to look at him and his
master. _Jocko_ put whole towns in motion, but never brought any affront
on his master; they came to look and to laugh, but not to deride or
insult. The post-boys, it is true, did not like to see their fraternity
_taken off_, in my _little Theatre_; but they seldom discovered it, but
by a grave salutation; and sometimes a good humoured fellow called him
comrade, and made _Jocko_ a bow; they could not laugh at his bad seat,
for not one of them rode with more ease; or had a handsomer laced
jacket. Mr. _Buffon_ says, the Monkey or _Maggot_, (and mine is the
latter, for he has no tail) make their grimace or chattering equally to
shew their anger or to make known their appetite. With all due deference
to this great naturalist, I must beg leave to say, that his observation
is not quite just; there is as much difference between the grimace of my
_Jocko_, when he is angry or hungry, and when he grins to shew delight,
as there is in a man, when he gnashes his teeth in wrath, or laughs from
mirth.
Between _Avignon_ and this town I met a dancing bear, mounted by a
_Maggot_: as it was upon the high road, I desired leave to present
_Jocko_ to his grandfather, for so he appeared both in age and size; the
interview, though they were both males, was very affecting; never did a
father receive a long-lost child with more seeming affection than the
_old gentleman_ did my _Jocko_; he embraced him with every degree of
tenderness imaginable, while the _young gentleman_ (like other young
gentlemen of the present age) betrayed a perfect indifference. In my
conscience I believe it, there was some consanguinity between them, or
the reception would have proved more mutual. Between you and me, I
fear, were I to return to England, I might find myself a sad party in
such an interview. It is a sad reflection; but perhaps Providence may
wisely ordain such things, in order as men grow older, to wean them from
the objects of their worldly affections, that they may resign more
readily to the decree of fate. That good man, Dr. ARBUTHNOT, did not
seem to dread the approach of death on his own account, so much as from
the grievous affliction HE had reason to fear it would bring upon his
children and family.
LETTER XLI.
LYONS,
_The Harangue of the_ Emperor CLAUDIUS, _in the_ SENATE. _Copied from
the original Bronze plate in the Hotel de Ville, of_ Lyons.
FIRST TABLE.
MOERERUM . NOSTR ::::: SII ::::::::: Equidem · primam · omnium · illam
· cogitationem · hominum · quam · maxime · primam · occursuram · mihi ·
provideo · deprecor · ne · quasi · novam · istam · rem · introduci ·
exhorrescatis · sed · illa · potius · cogitetis · quam · multa · in ·
hac · civitate · novata · sint · et · quidem · statim · ab · origine ·
vrbis · nostræ · in · quod · formas · statusque · res · P · nostra ·
diducta · sit.
Quandam · reges · hanc · tenuere · vrbem · nec tamen · domesticis ·
successoribus · eam · tradere · contigit · supervenere · alieni · et ·
quidam · externi · vt · Numa · Romulo · successerit · ex. Sabinis ·
veniens · vicinus · quidem · se · tunc.
Sed · tunc · externus · ut · Anco · Marcio · Priscus · Tarquinius ·
propter · temeratum · sanguinem · quod · Patre · Demaratho · Corinthio ·
natus · erat · et · Tarquiniensi · Matre · generoso · sed · inopi · ut ·
quæ · tali · marito · necesse · habuerit · succumbere · cum · domi ·
repelleretur. A · gerendis · honoribus · postquam · Roman · migravit ·
regnum · adeptus · est · huic · quoque · et · filio · nepotive · ejus ·
nam · et · hoc · inter · auctores · discrepat · insertus · Servius ·
Tullius · si · nostros · sequimur · captiva · natus · ocresia · si ·
tuscos · coeli · quandam · vivennæ · sodalis · fidelissimus · omnisque
· ejus · casus · comes · post · quam · varia · fortuna · exactus · cum ·
omnibus · reliquis · cæliani · exercitus · Etruria · excepit · mentem ·
cælium · occupavit · et · a · duce · suo · cælio · ita · appellitatus ·
mutatoque · nomine · nam · Tusce · mostrana · ei · nomen · erat · ita ·
appellatus · est · ut · dixi · et · regnum · summa · cum · rei · p ·
utilitate · optinuit · deinde · postquam · Tarquini · superbi · mores ·
invisi · civitati · nostræ · esse · coeperunt · qua · ipsius · qua ·
filiorum · ejus · nempe · pertæsum · est · mentes · regni · et ·
ad·consules.
Annuos · magistratus · administratio · rei · p · translata · est · quid
· nunc · commemorem · dictatu · valentius · repertum · apud · majores ·
nostros · quo · in · asperioribus · bellis · aut · in · civili · motu ·
difficiliore · uterentur · aut · in · auxilium · plebis · creatos ·
tribunos · plebei · quid · a · latum · imperium · solutoque · postea ·
Decemvirali · regno · ad · consules · rursus · reditum · quid ·
indecoris · distributum · consulare · imperium · tribunosque · militum ·
consulari · imperio · appellatos · qui · seni · et · sæpe · octoni ·
crearentur · quid · communicatos · postremo · cum · plebe · honores ·
non · imperi · solum · sed · sacerdotiorum · quoque · jam · si · narrem
· bella p · quibus · coeperint · majores · nostri · et · quo ·
processerimus · vereor · ne · nimio · insolentior · esse · videar · et ·
quæsisse · jactationem · gloria · prolati · imperi · ultra · oceanum ·
sed · illoc · potius · revertor · civitatem.
SECOND TABLE.
:::::::::::::::::: SANE ::: NOVO :: DIVVS :: AUG ::: LVS. et · Patruus ·
Ti · Cæsar · omnem · florem · ubisque · coloniarum · ac · municipiorum
· bonorum · scilicet · virorum · et · locupletium · in · hac curia ·
esse · voluit · quid · ergo · non · Italicus · senator · Provinciali ·
potior · est · jam · vobis · cum · hanc · partem · censuræ · meæ · ad ·
probare · coepero · quid · de · ea · re · sentiam · rebus · ostendam ·
sed · ne · provinciales · quidem · si · modo · ornare · curiam ·
poterint · rejiciendos · puto.
Ornatissimæ · ecce · colonia · volentissimaque Viennensium · quam ·
longo · jam · tempore · senatores · huic · curiæ · confert · ex · qua ·
colonia · inter · paucas · equestris · ordinis · ornamentum L · vestinum
· familiarissime · diligo · et · hodieque · in · rebus · meis · detineo
· cujus · liberi · tiorum · gradu · post · modo · cum · annis ·
promoturi · dignitatis · suæ · incrementa · ut · dirum · nomen ·
latronis · taceam · et · odi · illud · palæstricum · prodigium · quod ·
ante · in · domum · consulatum · intulit · quam · colonia · sua ·
solidum civitatis · Romanæ · beneficium · consecuta · est idem · de ·
patre · ejus · possum · dicere · miserabili · quidem · invtilis ·
senator · esse · non · possit tempus · est · jam · ri · CÆSAR ·
Germanice · detegere · te · patribus · conscriptis · quo · tendat ·
oratio · tua · jam · enim · ad · extremos · fines · Galliæ · Narbonensis
· venisti.
Tot · ecce · insignes · juvenes · quot · intuetor · non · magis · sunt ·
poenitendi · senatores · quam · ænitet · Persicum · nobilissimum ·
virum · amicum · meum · inter · imagines · majorum · suorum ·
Allobrogici · nomen · legere · quod · SL · hæc · ita · esse ·
consentitis · quid · ultra · desideratis · quam · ut · vobis · digito ·
demonstrem · solum · ipsum · ultra · fines · provinciæ · Narbonensis ·
jam · vobis · senatores · mittere · quando · ex · Luguduno · habere ·
nos · nostri · ordinis · viros · non · poenitet · timide · quidem · P
· C · vobis · provinciarum · terminos · sum · sed · destricte · jam ·
comatæ · Galliæ · causa · argenda · est · in · qua · si · quis · hoc ·
intuetur · quod · bello · per · decem · anno · exercuerunt · divom ·
Julium · diem · opponat · centum · armorum · immobilem · fidem ·
obsequiumque · multis · trepidis · rebus · nostris · plusquam · expertum
· illi · patri · meo · druso · Germaniam · subi · genti · tutam · quiete
· sua · securamque · a · tergo · pacem · præstiterunt · et · quidem ·
cum · AD · census · novo · tum · opere · et in · adsueto · gallis · ad ·
bellum · avocatus · esset · quod · opus · quam · arduum · sit · nobis ·
nunc · maxime · quam · vis · nihil · ultra · quam · ut · publice · notæ
· sint · facultates · nostræ · exquiratur · nimis · magno · experimento
· cognoscimus.
The above harangue, made by CLAUDIUS, in favor of the LYONOISE, and
which he pronounced in the Senate, is the only remains of the works of
this Emperor, though he composed many. _Suetonius_ says he composed
forty-three books of a history, and left eight compleat of his own life;
and adds, that he wrote more elegantly than judiciously.
LETTER XLII.
LYONS.
I have now spent a month in my second visit to this great and
flourishing city, and fortunately took lodgings in a _Hotel_, where I
found the lady and sister of _Mons. Le Marquis De Valan_, whose
politeness to us I mentioned in a former letter at _Vienne_, and by
whose favour I have had an opportunity of seeing more, and being better
informed, than I could have been without so respectable an acquaintance.
At _Vienne_ I only knew his rank, here I became acquainted with his good
character, and fortune, which is very considerable in _Dauphine_, where
he has two or three fine seats. His Lady came to _Lyons_ to lye-in,
attended by the Marquis's sister, a _Chanoinesse_, a most agreeable
sensible woman, of a certain age; but the Countess is young and
beautiful.
You may imagine that, after what I said of _Lyons_, on my way _to_
Spain, I did not associate much with my own country-folks. On my return,
indeed, my principal amusement was to see as much as I could, in a town
where so much is to be seen; and in relating to you what I have seen, I
will begin with the _Hotel De Ville_; if it had not that name, I should
have called it a Palace, for there are few palaces so large or so noble;
on the first entrance of which, in the vestibule, you see, fixed in the
wall, a large plate of Bronze, bearing stronger marks of fire than of
age; on which were engraven, seventeen hundred years ago, two harangues
made by the Emperor _Claudius_ in the senate, in favour of the
_Lyonoise_, and which are not only legible at this day, but all the
letters are sharp and well executed; the plate indeed is broke quite
through the middle, but fortunately the fraction runs between the first
and second harangues, so as to have done but little injury among the
the letters. As I do not know whether you ever saw a copy of it, I
inclose it to you, and desire you will send it as an agreeable exercise,
to be well translated by my friend at Oxford.
On the other side of the vestibule is a noble stair-case, on which is
well painted the destruction of the city, by so dreadful a fire in the
time of the Romans, that _Seneca_, who gives an account of it in a
letter to his friend, says,
"_Una nox fuit inter urbem maximam et nullum._"
i.e. One night only intervened between a great city and nothing.
There is something awful in this scene, to see on one side of the
stair-case the conflagration well executed; on the other, strong marks
of the very fire which burnt so many ages ago; for there can be no
doubt, but that the Bronze plate then stood in the _Roman Hotel de
Ville_, and was burnt down with it, because it was dug up among the
refuse of the old city on the mountain called _Fourvire_, on the other
side of the river, where the original city was built.--In cutting the
letters on this large plate of Bronze, they have, to gain room, made no
distance between the words, but shewn the division only by a little
touch thus < with the graver; and where a word eroded with a C, or G,
they have put the touch within the concavity of the letter, otherwise it
is admirably well executed.
Upon entering into the long gallery above stairs, you are shewn the late
King and Queen's pictures at full length, surrounded with the heads of
some hundred citizens; and in one corner of the room an ancient altar,
the _Taurabolium_, dug up in 1704, near the same place where
_Claudius's_ harangue was found; it is of common stone, well executed,
about four feet high, and one foot and a half square; on the front of
it is the bull's head, in demi relief, adorned with a garland of corn;
on the right side is the _victimary_ knife[A] of a very singular form;
and on the left the head of a ram, adorned as the bull's; near the point
of the knife are the following words, _cujus factum est_; the top of the
altar is hollowed out into the form of a shallow bason, in which, I
suppose, incense was burnt and part of the victims.
[A] The knife, which is cut in demi relief, on the _Taurobolium_,
is crooked upon the back, exactly in the same manner, and form, as
may be seen on some of the medals of the Kings of Macedonia.
The Latin inscription under the bull's head, is very well cut, and very
legible, by which it appears, that by the express order of CYBELE, the
reputed mother of the Gods, for the honour and health of the Emperor
_Antoninus Pius_, father of his country, and for the preservation of his
children, children, _Lucius Æmilius Carpus_[B] received the horns of
the bull, by the ministration of _Quintus Samius Secundus_, transported
them to the Vatican, and consecrated, at his own expence, this altar and
the head of the bull[C]; but I will send the inscription, and a
model[D] of the altar, as soon as I can have it made, as I find here a
very ingenious sculptor and modeller; who, to my great serprize, says
no one has hitherto been taken from it. And here let me observe, lest I
forget it, to say, that _Augustus_ lived three years in this city.
[B] _Lucius Æmilius Carpus_ was a Priest, and a man of great
riches: he was of the quality of _Sacrovir_, and probably one of
the six Priests of the temple of Angustus.--_Sextumvir Augustalii_.
[C] Several inscriptions of this kind have been found both in Italy
and Spain, but by far the greater number among the Gauls; and as
the sacrifices to the Goddess Cybele were some of the least ancient
of the Pagan rites, so they were the last which were suppressed on
the establishment of Christianity. Since we find one of the
Taurobolian inscriptions, with so recent a date as the time of the
Emperor Valentinian the third. The silence of the Heathen writers
on this head is very wonderful; for the only one who makes any
mention of them is Julius Firmicus Maternus, in his dissertation on
the errors of the Pagan religion; as Dalenius, in his elaborate
account of the Taurobolium, has remarked.
The ceremony of the consecration of the High Priest of Cybele,
which many learned men have mistaken for the consecration of the
Roman Pontifex Maximus; which dignity, from the very earliest
infancy of the Roman Empire, was always annexed to that of the
Emperor himself.
The Priests who had the direction of the Taurobola, wore the same
vestments without washing out the bloody stains, as long as they
would hold together.
By these rites and baptisms by blood, they thought themselves, as
it were re-born to a life eternal. Sextilius Agefilaus Ædesius
says, that he was born a-new, to life eternal, by means of the
Taurobolium and Criobolium.
Nor were the priests alone initiated in this manner, but also
others, who were not of that order; in particular cases the
regenerations were only promised for twenty years.
Besides the Taurobolia and Criobolia, which were erected at the
expence of whole cities and provinces, there were others also,
which were founded by the bounty of private people. We often meet
with the names of magistrates and priests of other Gods, who were
admitted into these mysteries, and who erected Taurobolia as
offerings for the safety of the Emperor, or their own. The rites of
the Taurobolia lasted sometimes many days.
The inscription, on the Taurobolium, which is on the same side with
the head of the bull, we have endeavoured to explain by filling up
the abbreviations which are met with in the Roman character.
TAUROBOLIO MATRIS DEUM MAGNÆ IDÆÆ
QUOD FACTUM EST EX IMPERIO
MATRIS IDÆÆ DEUM
PRO SALUTE IMPERATORIS CÆSARIS
TITI ÆLII
ADRIANI ANTONINI AUGUSTI PII PATRIS PATRIÆ
LIBERORUMQUE EJUS
ET STATUS COLONIÆ LUGDUNENSIS
LUCIUS ÆMILIUS CARPUS SEXTUMVIR
AUGUSTALIS ITEM DENDROPHORUS
VIRES EXCEPIT ET A VATICANO
TRANSTULIT ARAM ET BUCRANIUM
SUO IMPENDIO CONSECRAVIT
SACERDOTE
QUINTO SAMMIO SECUNDO AB QUINDECEMVIRIS
OCCABO ET CORONA EXORNATO
CUI SANCTISSIMUS ORDO LUGDUNENSIS
PERPETUITATEM SACERDOTIS DECREVIT
APPIO ANNIA ATILO BRADUA TITO
CLODIO VIBIO VARO CONSULIBUS
LOCUS DATUS DICRETO DECURIONUM.
[D] _The Model is now in the possession of the ingenious_ Dr.
HARRINGTON _at Bath_.
The _Taurobolium_ was one of the great mysteries, you know, of the
Roman religion, in the observance of which, I think, they dug a large
hole in the earth, and covered it with planks, laid at certain
distances, so as to give light into the subterranean temple. The person
who was to receive the _Taurobolio_ then descended into the theatre, and
received on his head and whole body, the smoaking hot blood of the bull,
which was there sacrificed for that purpose. If a single bull was only
sacrificed, I think they call it a simple _Taurabolio_, if a ram was
added to it, as was sometimes done, it was then called a _Torobolia_,
and _Criobolio_; sometimes too, I believe a goat was also slain.
After all the blood of the victim animals was discharged, the Priests
and Cybils retired beneath the theatre, and he who had received the
bloody sacrifice, came forth and exposed himself, besmeared with blood,
to the people, who all prostrated themselves before him, with
reverential awe, as one who was thereby particularly sanctified, and
whose person ought to be regarded with the highest veneration, and
looked upon with holy horror; nor did this sanctification, I think, end
with the ceremony, but rendered the person of the sanctified holy for
twenty years. An inscription cited by _Gruter_, seems to confirm this
matter, who, after speaking of one _Nepius Egnatius Faventinus_, who
lived in the year of Christ 176, says,
_"Percepto Taurobolio Criobolioque feliciter,_"
Concludes with these words,
_"Vota Faventinus bis deni suscipit orbis,
Ut mactet repetens aurata fronte bicornes._"
The _bis denus orbis_ seems to imply, the space of twice ten years.
And here I cannot help making a little comparison between the honours
paid by the Roman citizens to their Emperors, and those of the present
times to the Princes of the Blood Royal. You must know that the present
King's brother, came to _Lyons_ in the year 1775, and thus it is
recorded in letters of gold upon their quay:
LOUIS XVI. REGNANT.
EN MEMOIRE DE L'HEUREUX JOUR CINQ.
SEPTEMBRE M,DCC,LXXV.
OU
MONSIEUR FRERE DU ROI
ET MADAME
SONT ARRIVES EN CETTE VILLE
CE QUAI
DE L'AGREMENT DU PRINCE
ET PAR ORDONNANCE DU CONSULAT
DU DOUZE DU MEME MOIS
A ETE NOMME A PERPETUITE
QUAI MONSIEUR.
If the _Bourgeoise_ of _Lyons_, however, are not men of genius, they are
ingenious men, and they have a most delightful country to dwell in. I
think I may say, that from the high hills which hang about this city,
and taking in the rivers, fertile vales, rude rocks, vine-yards, and
country seats, far and near, that _Lyons_ and its environs, afford a
greater variety of natural and artificial beauties, than any spot in
Europe. It is, however, by no means a place for the winter residence of
a stranger. Most of the natives advanced in years, were carried off last
winter. The surly winds which come down the Rhone, with impetuous
blasts, are very disagreeable and dangerous. I found the cold
intolerable in the beginning of May, out of the sunshine, and the sun
intolerable in it. In England I never wore but one under waistcoat; in
Spain, and in the south of France, I found two necessary. The Spaniards
wear long cloaks, and we laugh at them; but the laugh would come more
properly from them. There is in those climates a _vifness_ in the air
that penetrates through and through; and I am sure that such who travel
to the southward for the recovery of their health, ought to be ten times
more upon their guard, to be well secured against the keen blasts the
south of France, than even against an easterly wind in England.
The disorder which carried off so many last winter at _Lyons_, was
called the Gripe. In a large hotel only one person escaped it, an
English Lady. They called it the _Gripe_, from the fast hold it took of
the person it seized; nor did it let them go till April.
On my way here, I found it sometimes extremely hot; it is now the first
of May, and I am shaking by the side of a good fire, and have had one
constantly every day for this fortnight.
LETTER XLIII.
LYONS.
The _Lyonoise_ think their town was particularly honoured by the
_Taurobolium_; but it was a common practice to offer that sacrifice not
only for the Emperor's health, but for the preservation of a city. There
are two of these altars in the town of _Letoure_; one consecrated for
the preservation of the Emperor _Gordian_, on which is the following
inscription:
PRO SALVTE IMP. ANTONINI GORDIANO PII FEL.
AVG. TOTIVSQVE DOMVS DIVINÆ PROQVE STATV CIVIT.
LACTOR TOROPOLIVM FECIT ORDO LACTOR D.N. GORDIANO
II ET POMPLIANO COS VI ID DEC CVRANTIS M
EROTIO ET FESTO CANINIS SACERD.
And in a little village near _Marseilles_, called _Pennes_, there is a
stone, on which is engraven,
MATRI DEVM MAGNÆ IDEÆ
And on another, in the same town,
MATRI DEVM TAVROPOLIVM.
I must not omit to give you a copy of a singular inscription on the
tomb of a mint-master which was found in _Lyons_, and is preserved
entire:
NOBILIS TIB. CÆSARIUS AVG. SER ÆQ. MONET HIC
AD QVI LOCIT JVLIA ADEPTA CONJUNX ET
PERPETUA FILIA D.S.D.
The most ancient money which has been found in and about this city, is
the little coin of _Mark Antony_; on one side of which is represented
the Triumvirate; on the other, a Lion, with the word _Lugudani_ under
it; on each side of the Lion are the letters A and XL. The antiquarians
here think those letters marked the value of the piece, and that it was
about forty _sous_; but is it not more probable, that this was only the
mint-master's touch?
Nothing can be a stronger proof of the importance of this city in the
time of the Romans, than the immense expence they were at in erecting
such a number of grand aquæducts, one of which was eighteen leagues in
length; many parts of them are still visible; and it appears that they
spent for the reparation of them at _one_ time, near one thousand
talents; and here it was that the four grand Roman highways divided; one
of which went directly to the sea, and another to the _Pyrenees_.
_Agrippa_, who was the constructor of most of these noble monuments of
Roman grandeur, would not permit the _Lyonoise_ to erect any monument
among them to his memory; and yet, his memory is, in a very particular
manner, preserved to this day in the very heart of the city, for in the
front of a house on the quay _de Villeroy_, is a medallion of baked
earth, which, I think, perfectly resembles him; sure I am it is an
unquestionable antique; it is a little disfigured indeed, and disgraced
by his name being written upon it in modern characters. But there is
another monument of _Agrippa_ here; it is part of the epitaph of an
officer or soldier of the third cohort, whose duty it was to take an
account of the expence of each day for the subsistence of the troops
employed to work on the high-ways, and this officer was called _A.
Rationibus Agrippæ_.
There are an infinite number of Roman inscriptions preserved at _Lyons_,
among which is the following singular one:
DIIS INIQVIS QUI ANIMVLAM
TVAM RAPVERVNT.
I have already told you of a modern monument erected by the _Lyonoise_,
and now, with grief and concern, I must tell you of an ancient one which
they have demolished! it was a most beautiful structure, called the tomb
of the Two Lovers; that, however, was a mistake; it was the tomb of a
brother and sister named _Amandas_, or _Amans_, for near where it stood
was lately found the following monumental inscription:
D M
ET MEMORIAE ÆTERNÆ OLIÆ TRIBVTÆ
FEMINÆ SANCTISSIME ARVESCIVS
AMANDVS FRATER SORORI KARISSMÆ
SIBIQVE AMANTISSIMÆ P.C. ET
SVB OSCIA DEDICAVIT.
I have seen a beautiful drawing of this fine monument, which stood near
the high road, a little without the town; the barbarian _Bourgeoises_
threw it down about seventy years ago, to search for treasure.
But enough of antiquities; and therefore I will tell you truly my
sentiments with respect to the south of France, which is, that _Lyons_
is quite southward enough for an Englishman, who will, if he goes
farther, have many wants which cannot be supplied. After quitting
_Lyons_, he will find neither good butter, milk, or cream. At _Lyons_,
every thing, which man can wish for, is in perfection; it is indeed a
rich, noble, and plentiful town, abounding with every thing that is
good, and more _finery_ than even in _Paris_ itself. They have a good
theatre, and some tolerable actors; among whom is the handsomest
Frenchman I ever beheld, and, a little stiffness excepted, a good actor.
Any young gentleman traveller, particularly _of the English nation_, who
is desirous of _replenishing his purse_, cannot, even in _Paris_, find
more convenient occasions to throw himself in _fortune's way_, than at
the city of _Lyons_.
An English Lady, and two or three gentlemen, have lately been so
_fortunate there_, as to find lodgings _at a great Hotel_, gratis; and I
desire you will particularly _recommend a long stay at_ Lyons _to my
Oxonian friend_; where he may _see the world_ without looking out at a
window.
LETTER XLIV.
I find I omitted to give you before I left _Nismes_, some account of
Monsieur _Seguier_'s cabinet, a gentleman whose name I have before
mentioned, and whose conversation and company were so very agreeable to
me. Among an infinite number of natural and artificial curiosities, are
many ancient Roman inscriptions, one of which is that of _T. Julius
Festus_, which _Spon_ mentions in his _Melanges D'Antiquite_. There are
also a great number of Roman utensils of bronze, glass, and
earthen-ware. The Romans were well acquainted with the dangerous
consequences of using copper vessels[E] in their kitchens, as may be
seen in this collection, where there are a great many for that purpose;
but all strongly gilt, not only within, but without, to prevent a
possibility of _verdigris_ arising. There is also a bronze head of a
Colossal statue, found not many years since near the fountain of
_Nismes_, which merits particular attention, as well as a great number
of Roman and Greek medals and medallions, well preserved, and some which
are very rare. The natural curiosities are chiefly composed of fossils
and petrifications; among the latter, are an infinite number of
petrified fish _embalmed_ in solid stones; and where one sees the finest
membranes of the fins, and every part of the fish, delineated by the
pencil of nature, in the most exquisite manner; the greater part of
these petrifications were collected by the hands of the possessor, some
from _Mount Bola_, others from _Mount Liban_, _Switzerland_, _&c._
[E] See Dr. FALCONER, of _Bath_, his Treatise on this subject.
Mr. _Seguier_'s _Herbary_ consists of more than ten thousand plants; but
above all, Mr. _Seguier_ himself, is the first, and most valuable part
of his cabinet, having spent a long life in rational amusements; and
though turned of four-score, he has all the chearfulness of youth,
without any of the garrulity of old age. When he honoured me with a
visit, at my country lodgings, he came on foot, and as the waters were
out, I asked him how he _got at me_, so dry footed? He had walked upon
the wall, he said; a wall not above nine inches thick, and of a
considerable length!
And here let me observe that a Frenchman eats his _soup_ and _bouille_
at twelve o'clock, drinks only _with_, not _after_ his dinner, and then
mixes water with his _genuine_ wine; he lives in a fine climate, where
there is not as with us, for six weeks together, easterly winds, which
stop the pores, and obstruct perspiration. A Frenchman eats a great
deal, it is true, but it is not all _hard meat_, and they never sit and
drink after dinner or supper is over.--An Englishman, on the contrary,
drinks much stronger, and a variety of fermented liquors, and often much
worse, and sits _at it_ many hours after dinner, and always after
supper. How then can he expect such health, such spirits, and to enjoy a
long life, free from pain, as most Frenchmen do; When the negro servants
in the West-Indies find their masters call _after_ dinner for a bowl of
punch extraordinary they whisper them, (if company are present) and ask,
"_whether they drink for drunk_, or _drink for dry_?" A Frenchman never
drinks for _drunk_.--While the Englishman is earning disease and misery
at his bottle, the Frenchman is embroidering a gown, or knitting a
handkerchief for his mistress. I have seen a Lady's sacque finely
_tamboured_ by a Captain of horse, and a Lady's white bosom shewn
through mashes netted by the man who made the snare, in which he was
himself entangled; though he made it he did not perhaps know the powers
of it till she _set it_.
LETTER XLV.
I write to you just as things come into my head, having taken very few
notes, and those, as you must perceive, often without much regard to
_unison_ or _time_. It has this minute occurred to me, that I omitted to
tell you on my journey onwards, that I visited a little town in
_Picardie_, called _Ham_, where there is so strong a castle, that it may
be called a _petit Bastile_, and which was then and still is, full of
state prisoners and debtors. To this castle there is a monstrous tower,
the walls of which are thirty six feet thick, and the height and
circumference are proportionable thereto; it was built by the _Conetable
de St. Paul_, in order to shut up his master, _Charles_ the VIth, King
of France, and contemporary, I think, with our _Henry_ the Vth; but such
are the extraordinary turns of all human affairs, that _Mons. le
Conetable_ was shut up in it himself many years, and ended his days
there.--The fate of this constable brings to my mind a circumstance that
happened under my _administration_, at _Land-Guard Fort_, when the King
was pleased to trust me with the command of it. I had not been
twenty-four hours in possession of what I thought a small sovereignty,
before I received a letter in the following terms:
"SIR, Having observed horses grazing on the covered way, that _hath_
done apparent damage, and may do more, I think it my duty to inform you,
that his Majesty does not permit horses to feed thereon, &c. &c.
(Signed)
"ANTHONY GOODE,
Overseer of the Works."
I never was more surprized, than to find my wings were to be thus clipt,
by a civil officer of the board of ordnance; however wrong I or my
horses had acted, I could not let Mr. GOODE _graze_ so closely upon my
authority, without a reprimand; I therefore wrote him an answer in terms
as follow: "that having seen a fat impudent-looking strutting fellow
about the garrison, it was my order that when his duty led him to
communicate any thing to me relative to the works thereof, that he came
himself, instead of writing impertinent letters." Mr. _Goode_ sent a
copy of his letter and mine to Sir _Charles Frederick_; and the post
following, he received from the Office of Ordnance, several printed
papers in the King's name, forbidding horses grazing on the WORKS, and
_ordering Mr. Goode_ to nail those orders up in different parts of the
garrison! but as I had not then learnt that either he, or his _red
ribband master_, had any authority to give out, even the King's orders,
in a garrison I commanded, but through my hands, I took the liberty,
while Mr. _Goode_ and his assistant-son were nailing one up _opposite to
my parlour window_, to send for a file of men and put them both into the
Black-hold, an apartment Mr. _Goode_ had himself built, being a
Master-Mason. By the time he had been ten minutes _grazing_ under this
_covered way_, he sent me a message, that he was _asthmatic_, that the
place was too close, and that if he died within a _year and a day_, I
must be deemed accessary to his death. But as I thought Mr. _Goode_
should have considered, that some of the poor invalids too might now and
then be as subject to the asthma as he, it was a proper punishment, and
I kept him there till he knew the duty of a soldier, as well as that of
a mason; and as I would _his betters_, had they come down and ventured
to have given out orders in a garrison under my command; but instead of
getting me punished as a _certain gentleman_ aimed at, that able General
_Lord Ligonier_ approved my conduct, and removed the man to another
garrison, and would have dismissed him the ordnance service, had I not
become a petitioner in his favour; for he was too fat and old to work,
too proud and arrogant to beg, and he and _his advisers_ too
contemptible to be angry with.--But I must return to the castle of
_Ham_, to tell you what a dreadful black-hold there is in that tower; it
is a trap called by the French _des Obliettes_, of so horrible a
contrivance, that when the prisoners are to suffer in it, the mechanical
powers are so constructed, as to render it impossible to be again
opened, nor would it signify, but to see the body _molue_, i.e. ground
to pieces.
There were formerly two or three _Obliettes_ in this castle; one only
now remains; but there are still several in the _Bastile_.--When a
criminal suffers this frightful death, (for perhaps it is not very
painful) he has no previous notice, but being led into the apartment, is
overwhelmed in an instant. It is to be presumed, however, that none but
criminals guilty of high crimes, suffer in this manner; for the state
prisoners in the _Bastile_ are not only well lodged, but liberal tables
are kept for them.
An Irish officer was lately enlarged from the _Bastile_, who had been
twenty-seven years confined there; and though he found a great sum of
money in the place he had concealed it in a little before his
confinement, he told Colonel C----, of Fitz-James's regiment, that
"having out-lived his acquaintance with the world, as well as with men,
he would willingly return there again."
At _Ham_ the prisoners for debt are quite separated from the state
prisoners; the latter are in the castle, the former in the tower.
The death of _Lewis_ the XVth gave liberty to an infinite number of
unhappy people, and to many who would have been enlarged before, but had
been forgotten. When one of these unhappy people (a woman of fashion)
was told she might go out; then, (said she) I am sure _Lewis_ the XVth
is dead; an event she knew nothing of, tho' it was a full year after the
King's death.--Things are otherwise conducted now than in his reign; a
wicked vain woman then commanded with unlimited power, both in war and
domestic concerns. In this reign, there are able, and I believe virtuous
ministers.
I suppose you think as I did, that Madame _Pompadour_ governed by her
own powerful charms; but that was not the case; she governed as many
other women do, by borrowed charms; she had a correspondence all over
the kingdom, and offices of intelligence, where _youth_, _beauty_, and
_innocence_, were registered, which were sent to her according to order;
upon the arrival of the _goods_, they were dressed, and trained for
_use_, under her inspection, till they were fit to be _shewn up_. She
had no regard to birth, for a shoe-maker's daughter of great beauty,
belonging to one of the Irish brigades, being introduced to the King,
he asked her whether she knew him? No: she did not: But did you ever see
me before, or any body like me? She had not, but thought him very like
the face on the _gros Eccuis_ of France. Madame _Pompadour_ soon found
out which of these girls proved most agreeable to the King, and such
were retained, the others dismissed.--The expence of this traffick was
immense. I am assured where difficulties of birth or fashion fell in the
way, ten thousand pounds sterling have been given. Had _Lewis_ the XVth
lived a few years longer, he would have ruined his kingdom. _Lewis_ the
XVIth bids fair to aggrandize it.
LETTER XLVI.
POST-HOUSE, ST GEORGE, six leagues from LYONS.
I am particular in dating this letter, in hopes that every English
traveller may avoid the place I write from, by either stopping short, or
going beyond it, as it is the only house of reception for travellers in
the village, and the worst I have met with in my whole journey. We had
been scurvily treated here as we went; but having arrived at it after
dark, and leaving it early, I did not recollect it again, till the
mistress by her sour face and sorry fare betrayed it; for she well
remembered _us_. As a specimen of French auberge cookery, I cannot help
serving up a dish of spinnage to you as it was served to me at this
house. We came in early in the afternoon, and while I was in the
court-yard, I saw a flat basket stand upon the ground, the bottom of
which was covered with boiled spinnage; and as my dog, and several
others in the yard, had often put their noses into it, I concluded it
was put down for _their_ food, not _mine_, till I saw a dirty girl
patting it up into round balls, and two children, the eldest of them not
above three years old, slavering in and playing with it, one of whom,
_to lose no time_, was performing _an office_ that none could _do for
her_. I asked the maid what she was about, and what it was she was so
preparing? for I began to think I had been mistaken, till she told me it
was spinnage;--not for me, I hope, said I,--'_oui, pour vous et le
monde_.' I then forbad her bringing any to my table, and putting the
little girl _off her center_, by an angry push, made her almost as dirty
as the spinnage; and I could perceive her mother, the hostess, and some
French travellers who were near, looked upon me as a brute, for
_disturbing la pauvre enfant_; nevertheless, with my _entree_ came up a
dish of this _delicate spinnage_, with which I made the girl a very
pretty _Chapeau Anglois_, for I turned it, dish and all, upon her head;
this set the house in such an uproar, that, if there had not come in an
old gentleman like _Bourgeois_ of _Paris_, at that instant, I verily
believe I should have been turned out; but he engaged warmly in my
defence, and insisted upon it that I had treated the girl just as he
would have done, had she brought such a dirty dish to him after being
cautioned not to do so; nor should I have got any supper, had I not
prevailed on this good-natured man, who never eat any, to order a supper
for himself, and transfer it to me. He was a native of _Lyons_, and had
been, for the first time after thirty years absence, to visit his
relations there. My entertainment at this house, _outward-bound_, was
half a second-hand roasted turkey, or, what the sailors call a
_twice-laid_ dish, i.e. one which is _done over_ a second time.
I know the French in general will not like to see this dirty charge,
brought even against an _aubergiste_, and much less to hear it said,
that this disregard to cleanliness is almost general in the public inns;
but truth justifies it, and I hope the publication may amend it.
A modern French anonymous traveller, who I conclude by the company he
kept in England, is a man of fashion, gives in general a just account of
the English nation, their customs and manners; and acknowledges, in
handsome terms, the manner he was received by some of the first families
in England. He owns, however, he does not understand English, yet he has
the temerity to say, that _Gulliver's_ travels are the _chef d'oeuvre_
of _Dean Swift_; but observes, that those travels are greatly improved
by passing through the hands of _Desfontaines_.--This gentleman must
excuse me in saying, that _Desfontaines_ neither understood English, nor
_Dean Swift_, better than he does. He also concludes his first volume,
by observing, that what a French Ambassador to England said of that
nation, in the year 1523, constitutes their character at this day!
'Alas! poor England! thou _be'st_ so closely situated, and in such daily
conversation with the polite and polished nation of France, thou hast
gained nothing of their ease, breeding, and compliments, in the space of
two hundred and fifty years!'--What this gentleman alludes to, is the
Ambassador's letter to the _Conetable Montmorency_, previous to the
meeting of _Henry_ the Eighth and _Francis_ the First, near _Ardres_;
for, (says the Ambassador) _sur-tout je vous prie, que vous ostiez de la
Cour, ceux qui unt la reputation d'etre joyeux & gaudisseur, car c'est
bien en ce monde, la chose la plus haie de cette nation_. And in a few
lines after, he foists in an extract from a Scotchman, one _Barclay_,
who, in his _Examen of Nations_, says, _Jenenc connoit point de plus
aimable creature, qui un François chez qui l'enjoument est tempore par
le judgment, & par discretion_; to all which I subscribe: but such men
are seldom to be met with in any kingdom.
This gentleman says, the most remarkable, or rather the only act of
gaiety he met with in _London_, was an harangue made for an hour in the
House of Lords, previous to the trial of Lord _Byron_; and that, as he
afterwards understood, it was made by a drunken member of parliament. He
says it made him and every body laugh exceedingly; but he laughed only
(I presume) because every body else did, and relates the story, I fear,
merely to make it a national laugh; for the harangue was certainly very
ill placed, and the mirth it produced, very indecent, at a time a Peer
of the realm was to be brought forth, accused of murder; and the
untimely death of a valuable and virtuous young man, revived in every
body's memory.
This is the unfavourable side of what the gentleman says of the first
people in England. Of the peasants and lower order, he observes, that,
though they are well fed, well cloathed, and well lodged, yet they are
all of a melancholy turn.--The French have no idea of what we call _dry
humour_; and this gentleman, perhaps, thought the English clown
melancholy, while he was laughing in his sleeve at the foppery of his
_laquais_.
These observations put me in mind of another modern traveller, a man of
sense and letters too, who observes, that the ballustrades at
_Westminster_ bridge are fixed very close together, to prevent the
English getting through to drown themselves: and of a Gentleman at
_Cambridge_, who, having cut a large pigeon-hole under his closet door,
on being asked the use of it, said, he had it cut for an old cat which
had kittens, to go in and out; but added, _that he must send for the
carpenter, to cut little holes for the young ones_. His _acute visitor_
instantly set up a _horse_ laugh, and asked him whether the little cats
could not come out at the same hole the big one did? The other laughing
in his turn, said, he did not _think of that_.
Though I have spoken with freedom of this French traveller's remarks,
yet I must own that, in general, he writes and thinks liberally, and
speaks highly of the English nation, and very gratefully of many
individuals to whom he was known; and, I dare say, a Frenchman will find
many more mistakes of mine, which I shall be happy to see pointed out,
or rectified: but were I to pick out the particular objects of laughter,
pity, and contempt, which have fallen in my way, in twice crossing this
great continent, I could make a second _Joe Miller_ of one, and a _Jane
Shore_ of the other. If this traveller could have understood the
_Beggars' Opera_, the _humour_ of _Sam. Foote_, or the pleasantry among
English sailors, watermen, and the lower order of the people, he would
have known, that, though the English nation have not so much vivacity
as the French, they are behind-hand with no nation whatever, where true
wit and genuine humour are to be displayed. What would he have said,
could he have seen and entered into the spirit of the procession of the
_miserable Scalds_, or Mr. _Garrick_ in _Scrub_; _Shuter_, _Woodward_,
Mrs. _Clive_, or even our little _Edwin_ at _Bath_? Had he seen any of
these things, he must have laughed with the multitude, as he did in the
House of Lords, though he had not understood it, and must have seen how
inimitably the talents of these men were formed, to excite so much mirth
and delight, even to a heavy _unpolished_ English audience.
LETTER XLVII.
From _St. George_ to _Macon_ is five leagues. Nothing on earth can be
more beautiful than the face of this country, far and near. The road
lies over a vast and fertile plain, not far distant from the banks of
the _Soane_ on one side, and adorned with mountains equally fertile, and
beautiful, on the other. It is very singular, that all the cows of this
part of the country are white, or of a light dun colour, and the dress
of all the _Maconoise_ peasants as different from any other province in
France, as that of the Turkish habit; I mean the women's dress, for I
perceived no difference among the men, but that they are greater clowns,
than any other French peasants. The women wear a broad bone lace ruff
about their necks, and a narrow edging of the same sort round their
caps, which are in the form of the charity girls' caps in England; but
as they must not bind them on with any kind of ribband, they look rather
_laid upon_ their heads, than _dressed upon them_; their gowns are of a
very coarse light brown woollen cloth, made extremely short-waisted, and
full of high and thick plaits over the hips, the sleeves are rather
large, and turned up with some gaudy coloured silk; upon the shoulders
are sewed several pieces of worsted livery lace, which seem to go quite
under their arms, in the same manner as is sometimes put to children to
strengthen their leading-strings; upon the whole, however, the dress is
becoming, and the very long petticoat and full plaits, have a graceful
appearance.
At _Lyons_ I saw a _Macinoise_ girl of fashion, or fortune, in this
dress; her lace was fine, her gown silk, and her shoulder-straps of
silver; and, as her head had much more of the _bon gout_ than the _bon
ton_, I thought her the most inviting object I had seen in that city,
my delicate landlady at _Nismes_ always excepted. I think France cannot
produce such another woman _for beauty_ as _Madame Seigny_.
I bought a large quantity of the _Macon_ lace, at about eight-pence
English a yard, which, at a little distance, cannot easily be
distinguished from fine old _pointe_.
Between _St. George_ and _Macon_, at a time we wanted our breakfast, we
came to a spot where two high roads cross each other, and found there a
little _cabbin_, not unlike the Iron House, as to whim, but this was
built, sides, top, and bottom, with sawed boards; and as a little bit of
a board hung out at the door informed us they sold wine, I went in, and
asked the mistress permission to boil my tea-kettle, and to be permitted
to eat our breakfast in her pretty _cabbin_? The woman was knitting; she
laid down her work, rose up, and with the ease and address of a woman of
the first fashion, said we did her honour, that her house, such as it
was, and every thing in it, were at our service; she then sent a girl to
a farmer's hard by, for milk, and to a village a quarter of a league
distant, for hot bread; and while we breakfasted, her conversation and
good breeding made up a principal part of the _repas_; she had my horse
too brought to the back part of her _cabbin_, where he was well fed from
a portable manger. I bought of her two bottles of white wine, not much
inferior to, and much wholesomer than, Champaigne, and she charged me
for the whole, milk, bread, fire, _conversation_, and wine, thirty six
_sols_, about seventeen pence English! Though this gentlewoman, for so I
must call her, and so I believe she is, lived in such a small hut, she
seemed to be in good circumstances, and had _liqueurs_, tea, and a great
variety of _bons choses_ to sell. This was the only public house, (if it
maybe called by that name,) during my whole journey _out_ and _in_,
where I found perfect civility; not that the publicans in general have
not civility _in their possession_, but they will not, either from
_pride_ or _design_, _produce it_, particularly to strangers. My
_wooden-house landlady_ indeed, was a prodigy; and it must be confessed,
that no woman of the lower order in England, nor even of the middling
class, have any share of that ease and urbanity which is so common among
the lower order of the _people_ of this kingdom: but the woman I now
speak of, had not, you will perceive, the least design even upon my
purse; I made no previous agreement with her for my good fare, and she
scorned to take any advantage of my confidence; and I shewed my sense of
it, by giving her little maid eight times more than she ever received
for such services before--an English shilling.
Let not this single, and singular woman, however, induce you to trust to
the confidence of a French _aubergiste_ especially a _female_; you may
as well trust to the conscience of an itinerant Jew. Frenchmen are so
aware of this, that have heard a traveller, on a _maigre_ day, make his
bargain for his _aumlet_ and the number of eggs to be put in it, with an
exactness scarce to be imagined; and yet the upshot was only two pence
English.
The easy manner in which a French officer, or gentleman, can traverse
this mighty kingdom, either for pleasure or business, is extremely
agreeable, and worthy of imitation among young British officers.--In
England, if an Ensign of foot is going a journey, he must have two
horses, and a groom, though he has nothing but a regimental suit of
cloaths, and half a dozen shirts to carry; his horses too must _set both
ends well_ because he is a _Captain_ upon the road! and he travels at
about five times the expence of his pay.
The French officer buys a little _biddet_, puts his shirts and best
regimental coat into a little _portmanteau_, buckles that behind his
saddle, and with his sword by his side, and his _croix_ at his
button-hole, travels at the expence of about three shillings a day, and
often less, through a kingdom where every order of people shew him
attention, and give him precedence.
I blush, when I recollect that I have _rode_ the risque of being wet to
the skin because I would not _disgrace my saddle_, nor load my back with
a great coat; for I have _formerly_, as well as _latterly_, travelled
without a servant.
I have a letter now before me, which I received a few days ago from a
French Captain of foot, who says, _sur le champ j'ay fait seller ma
petite Rossinante (car vous scavez que j'ay achete un petit cheval de 90
livres selle et bride) et me voila a Epernay chez Monsieur Lechet_, &c.
This gentleman's whole pay does not amount to more than sixty pounds a
year, yet he has always five guineas in his pocket, and every
convenience, and some luxuries about him; he assists now and then an
extravagant brother, appears always well dressed; and last year I bought
him a ticket in the British lottery: he did not consider that he
employed an unfortunate man to buy it, and I _forgot_ to remind him of
it.
After saying thus much of a virtuous young man (_though a Frenchman_)
there will be no harm in telling you his name is _Lalieu_, a Captain in
the regiment _du Maine_.--Before I took my last leave of him, talking
together of the horrors of war, I asked him what he would do if he were
to see me _vis-a-vis_ in an hostile manner? He embraced me, and said,
"turn the but end of my fusee towards you, my friend." I thank God that
neither his _but-end_, nor my _muzzle_ can ever meet in that manner, and
I shall be happy to meet him in any other.
_P.S._ I omitted to say, that the _Maconoise_ female peasants wear
black hats, in the form of the English straw or chip hats; and when they
are tied on, under the chin, it gives them with the addition of their
round-eared laced cap, a decent, modest appearance which puts out of
countenance all the borrowed plumage, dead hair, black wool, lead,
grease, and yellow powder, which is now in motion between _Edinburgh_
and _Paris_.
It is a pity that pretty women, at least, do not know, that the
simplicity of a Quaker's head-dress, is superior to all that art can
contrive: and those who remember the elegant _Miss Fide_, a woman of
that persuasion, will subscribe to the truth of my assertion. And it is
still a greater pity, that plain women do not know, that the more they
adorn and _artify_ their heads, the more conspicuous they make their
natural defects.
LETTER XLVIII.
At _Challons sur la Soane_, (for there is another town of the same name
in _Champaigne_) I had the _honor_ of a visit from _Mons. le Baron
Shortall_, a gentleman of an ancient family, _rather in distress at this
time_, by being _kept out_ of six and thirty thousand a year, his legal
property in Ireland; but as the Baron made his visit _ala-mode de
capuchin Friar_, without knocking, and when only the female part of my
family were in the apartment, he was dismissed _rather abruptly_ for a
man of _his high rank_ and _great fortune in expectation_. This
dismission, however, did not dismay him; he rallied again, with the
reinforcement of _Madame la Baroness_, daughter, as he positively
affirmed, of _Mons. le Prince de Monaco_; but as I had forbad his being
_shewn up_, he desired me to _come down_, a summons curiosity induced
me to obey. Never, surely, were two people _of fashion_ in a more
pitiable plight! he was in a _russet brown black_ suit of cloaths;
Madame _la Baroness_ in much the same colour, wrapt up in a tattered
black silk capuchin; and I knew not which to admire most, their folly or
their impudence; for surely never did an _adventurer_ set out with less
_capabilities_ about him; his whole story was so flagrant a fib, that in
spite of the _very respectable certificates of My Lord Mayor, John
Wilkes, and Mr. Alderman Bull_, I was obliged to tell him plainly, that
I did not believe him to be a gentleman, nor his wife to be a relation
of the Prince of _Monaco_. All this he took in good part, and then
assured me they were both very hungry, and without meat or money; I
therefore ordered a dinner at twenty _sols_ a head; and, as I sat by
while they eat it, I had reason to believe that he told me _one plain
truth_, for in truth they eat as if they had never eaten before. After
dinner the Baron did me the honour to consult with me _how_ he should
get down to _Lyons_? I recommended to him to proceed by _water_; but,
said he, my dear Sir, I have no money;--an evil I did not chuse to
redress; and, after several unsuccessful attempts at my purse, and some
at my person,--he whispered me that even six livres would be acceptable;
but I held out, and got off, by proposing that the Baroness should write
a letter to the Prince her father, to whom I had the honour to be known,
and that I would carry him the letter, and enforce their prayer, by
making it my own. This measure she instantly complied with, and
addressed her father _adorable Prince_; but concluded it with a name
which could not belong to her either as maid, wife, or widow. I remarked
this to the _Baron_, who acknowledged at once _the mistake_, said she
had signed a false name, and she should write it over again; but when I
observed to him that, as the Prince knew the handwriting of his _own_
dear child, and as the name of women is _often varying by marriage_, or
_miscarriage_, it was all one: to this he agreed; and I brought off the
letter, and my purse too, for forty _sols_; yet there was so much
falshood, folly, and simplicity in this _simple pair of adventurers_,
that I sorely repented I did not give them their passage in the _coche
d'eau_ to _Lyons_; for he could not speak a word of French, nor _Madame
la Baroness_ a word of English; and the only _insignia_ of distinction
between them, was, a vast clumsy brass-hilted sword which the Baron,
instead of wearing at his side, held up at his nose, like a Physician's
gold-headed cane.--When I took my leave of this _Sir James Shortall_,
(for he owned _at last_ he was _only a Baronet_) he promised to meet me
_next time_ dressed in his blue and silver.
I verily believe my Irish _adventurer_ at _Perpignan_, is a gentleman,
and therefore I relieved him; I am thoroughly persuaded my _Challons_
adventurer is not, yet perhaps he was a real object of charity, and his
true tale would have produced him better success than his _borrowed
story_. _Sir James_ was about sixty, _Lady Shortall_ about fifty.--_Sir
James_ too had a pretty large property in America, and would have
visited his estates on that continent, had I not informed him of the
present unhappy differences now subsisting between that and the mother
country, of which he had not heard a single syllable.
After having said thus much, I think I must treat you with a copy of
_Lady Shortall's_ letter, a name very applicable to their unhappy
situation, for they did indeed seem short of every thing;--so here it
is, _verbatim et literatim_:
"_Monsieur Thickness gentilhomme anglaise_
"Adorable preince de monaco que tout mordonne deme, lise au de fus de
cette lette le non deun digne homme qui me randu ser visse, je suis
malade, le convan; serois preferable a mon bouneur je veux sepandant
sauve non marij mais je me meure tre seve mon derinier soupire, je ne le
doit qua vous.
"JULIE BARONNE DE CHATTERRE.
_le 18 May 1776._"
"_A sont altess ele preince de Monaco, dans sont hautelle rue de
Vareinne a Paris_."
LETTER XLIX.
From _Challons_ to _Bonne_, is five leagues. _Bonne_ is a good town,
well walled-in, pleasantly situated, and remarkable for an excellent and
well-conducted Hospital, where the poor sick are received _gratis_,
without distinction, and where the rich sick are accommodated with
nurses, physicians, medicines, food, and lodging, with every assistance
that can be wanted, for four livres a day. The apartments in which the
poor are received, are so perfectly clean and sweet, that they are fit
for people of any condition; but those provided for the better sort, are
indeed sumptuously furnished. The women who act as nurses, are of a
religious order, and wear a particular, decent, and uniform habit, to
which their modest deportment exactly coincides; yet most of them are
young, and many of them very beautiful.
Between these two towns we met an English servant, in a rich laced
livery, conducting, behind a post-chaise, a large quantity of baggage;
and soon after, a second servant, in the same uniform; this excited our
curiosity, and we impatiently proceeded, in hopes of meeting the
equipage, which it was natural to expect would soon follow; instead of
which, it was an old English four-wheel chaise, the _contents_ of which
were buckled close up behind a pair of dirty leather curtains; and on
the coach-box sat, by the side of the driver, a man who had the
appearance of an English farmer. This contrast rather increased than
lessened our curiosity; and, therefore, at _Bonne_, I made some enquiry
about them of the post-master; who told me they came in, and set off,
separately, just as I had met them; but that one servant paid for the
horses to all the carriages, and that the woman _behind the curtain,
according to custom, did not chuse to shew herself_. Just as I was
returning with this blind account, an English servant, who I had not
perceived, but who stood near, told me, he was sure _as how_ it was
either the _Duchess_ of _Kingston_ or _Mrs Rudd_, for that he _seed_ her
very plain. I was much surprized at finding an Englishman so near me;
and the singularity of the man's observation had a very forcible effect
upon me. When the mirth which it unavoidably occasioned, was a little
subsided, I could not help correcting, in gentle terms, (though I was
otherwise glad to see even an English footman so far from _English
land_) a man in his station for speaking of people of high rank with so
much indecent levity, and then told him, that there was no such person
living as the _Duchess_ of _Kingston_, but that it was probable the Lady
he thought he had seen might be _Lady Bristol_; that there was not
however, the least resemblance between the person of her Ladyship and
the other Lady he had mentioned, the latter being young, thin, and
rather handsome; whereas _Lady Bristol_ was very fat, and advanced in
years; I therefore suspected, I told him, that he had confounded the
trials of those two Ladies, and fancied he saw a likeness in their
persons, by an association of ideas; but in reality, there was as much
difference in their crimes as in their persons. _Crimes_! did I say?
that is an improper expression, because I am informed _Mrs. Rudd_ has
been acquitted; but that, if the foreign papers might be relied on,
_Lady Bristol_ had been found guilty of BIGAMY: But as he seemed not to
understand what I meant by _Bigamy_, or the _association of ideas_, I
was unavoidably led into a conversation, and explanation, with this
young man; which nothing but my pride, and his ignorance, could justify;
but as the fellow was overjoyed to see me, I could not help giving him
something to drink, and with it a caution never to speak of people of
high rank and condition, even behind their backs, but under their proper
names or titles, and with decency and respect: he then begged my
pardon, and assured me, if he had known that either of the Ladies had
been a friend of mine, he would not have coupled them so improperly
together; and I am thoroughly convinced, the man left me with a
resolution, never to hazard a conjecture without a better foundation
than that he started to me, and which I rather believe he hit off
_extempore_, to speak to me, and shew himself my countryman, than from
really suspecting that the woman behind the curtain was either _Lady
Bristol_, or _Mrs. Rudd_; though I was inclined to think it very
probable, for I had seen _Lord Bristol_ on his way through _Lyons_ from
_Italy_ to _England_, and had been informed, _Lady Bristol_ was then on
her road to _Italy_; in which case, I, like the footman, had my
conjectures, and accounted for the leather curtains being so _closely
buckled to_.
These are trifling remarks, you will say; but if a sign-painter can
paint only a bear, those who employ him must have a bear for their
sign; nevertheless, we have all a certain curiosity to know even the
most trifling actions, or movements of people, who by their virtues or
vices, especially if they are people of rank or condition, have
occasioned much talk in the world; and therefore, ridiculous as this
incident is, yet as we have long known one of the Ladies, and often
_admired_ both, I could not let either one or the other pass me
unnoticed, on a road too, where even an English Duchess (if she would
own the truth) would feel a secret delight in meeting of a
Hyde-park-corner groom.
I have already mentioned what partiality and degree of notice,
countrymen take of each other when they meet far from home. That notice
is always in proportion to the distance. Had my _Bonne_ footman spoke of
_Lady Bristol_, or _Mrs. Rudd_, in such free terms as _how he seed 'em_,
&c. &c. at Hyde-park-corner, or in Tyburn-road, I should have knocked
him down with the but end of my whip; but at _Bonne_ (five hundred
miles from either of those places) he and I were _quatre cousins_; and I
could not help treating him with a bottle of _vin de pais_.
LETTER L.
From _Bonne_ we intended to have taken the high road to _Dijon_; but
being informed that there was another, though not much frequented, by
way of _Autun_, and that _that_ town, which was a Roman colony, still
contained many curious monuments worthy of notice, we pursued the
latter, which twisted in between a vast variety of small, but fertile
valleys, watered with brooks, bounded by romantic hills, and some high
mountains, most of which were covered with vines, which _did_ produce
the most delicious red wine in the world; I say _did produce_, for the
high _gout_ and flavour of the Burgundy grape has for many years failed,
and perhaps so as never to return again. We, however, missed the road to
_Autun_, and, after four leagues' journey through a most delightful
country, we arrived at a miserable auberge in a dirty village called
_Yozy_, which stands upon the margin of a large forest, in which, some
years since, the _diligence_ from _Lyons_ to _Paris_ was attacked by a
banditti, and the whole party of travellers were murdered: ever since
that fatal day, a guard of the _Marechaussee_ always escort the
_diligence_ through this deep and dreadful forest, (so they called it),
and we were persuaded it was right to take a couple of the
_Marechaussee_, and did so; but as we found the forest by no means so
long, deep, or dreadful, as it had been represented, we suspected that
the advice given us, was more for the sake of the men who _guarded us_,
than from any regard _to us_, two men could have made no great
resistance against a banditti; and a single man would hardly have
meddled with us.
The next day we passed thro' _Arnay-le-Duc_, a pretty country village,
three leagues from _Yozy_, and it being their annual fair-day, we had an
opportunity of seeing all the peasantry, dressed in their best, and
much chearfulness, not only in the town, but upon the road before we
arrived, and after we passed it. Amongst the rest of the company, were a
bear and a monkey, or rather what _Buffon_ calls the _maggot_. I desired
the shew-man to permit my _maggot_, as he was the least, the youngest,
and the _stranger_, to pay a visit to _Mons. Maggot_, the elder, who
embraced the _young gentleman_ in a manner which astonished and
delighted every body, myself only excepted; but as _my young gentleman_
seemed totally indifferent about the _old one_, I suspected he had
_really met his father_, and I could not help moralizing a little.
From _Arnay-le-Duc_ we passed through _Maupas_, _Salou_, _Rouvray_,
_Quisse la forge_, and _Vermanton_ to _Auxerre_, the town where the
French nobleman _was said_ to live, whom Dr. _Smollett_ treated so very
roughly, and who, in return, was so _polite_ as to _help to tie_ the
Doctor's baggage behind his coach!
About a quarter of a mile without this town, stands a royal convent,
richly endowed, and delightfully situated; the walls of which take in
near twenty acres of land, well planted on the banks of a river; and
here I left my two daughters, to perfect themselves in the French
language, as there was not one person within the convent, nor that I
could find, within the town, who could speak a word of English. And here
I must not omit to tell you, how much I was overcome with the generosity
of this virtuous, and I must add amiable, society of _religieux_. Upon
my first inquiry about their price for board, lodging, washing, cloaths,
and in short, every thing the children did, or might want, they required
a sum much beyond the limits of my scanty income to give; but before we
left them, they became acquainted with _some circumstances_, which
induced them to express their concern that the price I had offered (not
half what they had demanded) could not be taken. We therefore retired,
and had almost fixed the children in a cheaper convent, but much
inferior in all respects, within the town, when we received a polite
letter from the Lady Abbess, to say, that after consulting with her
sister-hood, they had come to a resolution to take the children at our
_own_ price, rather than not shew how much they wished to oblige us.
Upon this occasion, we were _all_ admitted within the walls of the
convent; and I had the pleasure of seeing my two daughters joined to an
elegant troop of about forty genteel children, and of leaving them under
the care of the same number of _religieux_. And yet these good people
knew nothing of us, but what we ourselves communicated to them, not
being known, nor knowing any person in the town.--The Lady-Abbess of
this convent is a woman of high rank, about twenty-four years of age,
and possesses as large a share of beauty as any reasonable woman, even
on the _outside_ of a convent, could wish for.
_Auxerre_ is a good town, pleasantly situated, and in a plentiful and
cheap country.
From _Auxerre_ to _Ioigni_ is five leagues. The _Petit bel Vue_ on the
banks of the river is very pleasantly situated, but a dreadful one
within side, in every respect, being a mixture of dirt, ignorance, and
imposition; but it is the only inn for travellers, and therefore
travellers should avoid it. In order to put my old hostess in good
humour, I called early for a bottle of Champaigne; and in order to put
me into a bad humour, she charged me the next day for two; but I
_charged her_ with _Mons. Le Connetable_, who behaved like a gentleman,
though I think he was only a _marchand de tonneau_: but then he was a
_wine_ not _beer_ cooper, who hooped the old Lady's barrel.
Where-ever I was ill-used or imposed upon, I always sent a pretty heavy
packet by the post, after I had run down a hundred miles or two, by way
of _draw-back_, upon my host, and recompence to the King's high road;
for in France,
_"Like the Quakers' by-way,
'Tis plain without turnpikes, so
nothing to pay"_
An old witch, who had half starved us at _Montpellier_, for want of
provisions, when we went, and for want of fire to dry us, when we came
back, left a piece of candle in my budget, which I did not omit to
return by the post, _well packed up_, lest it should grease other
packets of more importance, by riding an hundred leagues; besides this
it was accompanied by a very civil _letter of advice_, under another
cover.
LETTER LI.
The next town of any note is _Sens_, a large, _ragged_, ancient city;
but adorned with a most noble Gothic cathedral, more magnificent than
even that of _Rheims_, and well worthy of the notice of strangers; it is
said to have been built by the English: With the relicks and
_custodiums_ of the host, are shewn the sacerdotal habits, in which
Archbishop _Becket_ (who resided there many years) said mass, for it was
his head-quarters, when he _left_ Britain, as well as _Julius Cæsar_'s
before he went there. The silver hasps, and some of the ornaments of
these garments, are still perfect, though it has undergone so many
darnings, as to be little else.
_Becket_ was a very tall man; for though it has many tucks in it, yet it
is generally too long for the tallest priest in the town, who
constantly says mass in it on _St. Thomas_'s day.
How times and men are changed! This town, which resisted the arms of
_Cæsar_ for a considerable time, was put in the utmost consternation by
_Dr. Smollett_'s causing his travelling blunderbuss to be only fired in
the air, a circumstance "which greatly terrified all the _petit monde!_"
It is very singular, that the Doctor should have frightened a French
nobleman of _Burgundy_, by shaking his cane at him, and even made him
assist in the most servile offices; and in the next town, terrify all
the common people, by only firing a blunderbuss in the air!
I would not willingly arraign a dead man with telling two fibbs so close
upon the back of each other; but I am sure there was but that single
French nobleman, in this mighty kingdom, who would have submitted to
such insults as the Doctor _says_ he treated him with; nor any other
town but _Sens_, where the firing of a gun would have so terrified the
inhabitants; for, drums, guns, and noise of every sort, seem to afford
the common French people infinite pleasure.
I spent in this town a day or two, and part of that time with a very
agreeable Scotch family, of the name of _Macdonald_, where Lieutenant
Colonel _Stuart_ was then upon a visit.
I have some reason to think that _Sens_ is a very cheap town. Several
English, Scotch, and Irish families reside in it.
From _Sens_ to _Port sur Yonne_ is three leagues, and from _Yonne_ to
_Foussart_ the same distance.
At the three Kings at _Foussart_, suspecting there was a cat behind the
bed in wait for my bird, I found, instead thereof, a little _narrow
door_, which was artfully hid, and which opened into another room; and
as I am sure the man is a cheat, I suspect too, that upon a _good
occasion_, he would have made some _use_ of his little door.
_Foussart_ is a small place, consisting only of three or four public
houses. From thence to _Morret_, is three leagues, on which road is
erected a noble pillar of oriental marble, in memory of the marriage of
_Lewis_ the XVth. Soon after we passed this monument, we entered into
the delightful forest of _Fontainbleau_; and passing three leagues to
the center of it, we arrived at that ancient royal palace: it stands
very low, and is surrounded by a great many fine pieces of water, which,
however, render the apartments very damp. The King and royal family had
been there six weeks, and were gone but ten days, and with them, all the
furniture of the palace was also gone, except glasses, and a few
pictures, of no great value. In a long, gallery are placed, on each
side of the wall, a great number of stags' heads, carved in wood, and
upon them are fixed the horns of stags and bucks, killed by the late,
and former Kings; some of which are very _outre_, others singularly
large and beautiful.
_Fontainbleau_ is a good town, stands adjacent to the palace; and as the
gardens, park, &c. are always open, it is a delightful summer residence.
We staid a few days there, to enjoy the shady walks, and to see the
humours of a great annual fair, which commenced the day after we
arrived. All sorts of things are sold at this fair; but the principal
business is done in the _wine way_, many thousand pieces of the inferior
Burgundy wine being brought to this market.
We made two little days' journey from _Fontainbleau_ to _Paris_, a town
I entered with concern, and shall leave with pleasure.--As I had
formerly been of some service to _Faucaut_ who keeps the _Hotel
d'York_, when he lived in _Rue de Mauvais Garçon_ I went to this
_famous Hotel_, which would have been more in character, if he had given
it the name of his former street, and called it, _L'Hotel de Mauvais
Garçon_ for it is an hospital of bugs and vermin: the fellow has got the
second-hand beds of _Madame Pompadour_, upon his first floor, which he
_modestly_ asks thirty _louis d'ors_ a month for! All the rest of the
apartments are pigeon-holes, filled with fleas, bugs, and dirt; and
should a fire happen, there is no way of escaping. Nothing should be
more particularly attended to in _Paris_ than the security from fire,
where so many, and such a variety of strangers, and their servants, are
shut up at night, within one _Porte Cochere_.
LETTER LII.
PARIS.
I found no greater alteration in _Paris_, after ten years' absence from
it, than the prodigious difference of expence; most articles, I think,
are one-third dearer, and many double; a horse is not half so well fed
or lodged at _Paris_ as at _London_; but the expence is nearly a guinea
a week, and a stranger may drive half round the city before he can lodge
himself and his horses under the same roof.[F]
[F] _Paul Gilladeau_ who lately left the Silver Lion, at _Calais_,
has, I am informed, opened a Livery Stable at _Paris_, upon the
_London_ plan, in partnership with _Dessein_, of the _Hotel
d'Angleterre_ at _Calais_: a convenience much wanted, and
undertaken by a man very likely to succeed.
The beauties, the pleasures, and variety of amusements, which this city
abounds with, are, without doubt, the magnets which attract so many
people of rank and fortune of all nations to it; all which are too well
known to be pointed out by me.--To a person of great fortune in the
_hey-day_ of life, _Paris_ may be preferable even to _London_; but to
one of my age and walk in life, it is, and was ten years ago, the least
agreeable place I have seen in France.--Walking the streets is extremely
dangerous, riding in them very expensive; and when those things which
are worthy to be seen, (and much there is very worthy) have been seen,
the city of _Paris_ becomes a melancholy residence for a stranger, who
neither plays at cards, dice, or deals in the principal manufacture of
the city; i.e. _ready-made love_, a business which is carried on with
great success, and with more decency, I think, that even in _London_.
The English Ladies are _weak_ enough to attach themselves to, and to
love, one man. The gay part of the French women love none, but receive
all, _pour passer le tems_.--The _English_, unlike the _Parisian_
Ladies, take pains to discover _who_ they love; the French women to
dissemble with those they hate.
It is extremely difficult for even strangers of rank or fortune, to get
among the first people, so as to be admitted to their suppers; and
without that, it is impossible to have any idea of the luxury and stile
in which they live: quantity, variety, and show, are more attended to in
France, than neatness. It is in England alone, where tables are served
with real and uniform elegance; but the appetite meets with more
provocatives in France; and the French _cuisine_ in that respect,
certainly has the superiority.
Ten years ago I had the honour to be admitted often to the table of a
Lady of the first rank. On _St. Ann's-day_, (that being her name-day)
she received the visits of her friends, who all brought either a
valuable present, a poesy, or a compliment in verse: when the dessert
came upon the table, which was very magnificent, the middle plate
seemed to be the finest and fairest fruit (_peaches_) and I was much
surprized, that none of the Ladies, were helped by the gentlemen from
_that_ plate: but my surprize was soon turned into astonishment! for the
peaches suddenly burst forth, and played up the Saint's name, (_St.
Ann_) in artificial fire-works! and many pretty devices of the same
kind, were whirled off, from behind the coaches of her visitors, to
which they were fixed, as the company left the house, which had a pretty
effect, and was no indelicate way of _taking a French leave_.
There is certainly among the French people of fashion an ease and
good-breeding, which is very captivating, and not easily obtained, but
by being bred up with them, from an early age; the whole body must be
formed for it, as in dancing, while there is the pliability of youth;
and where there is, as in France, a constant, early, and intimate
correspondence between the two sexes. Men would be fierce and savage,
were it not for the society of the other sex, as may be seen among the
Turks and Moors, who must not visit their own wives, when other men's
wives are with them. In France, the Lady's bed-chamber is always open,
and she receives visits in bed, or up, with perfect ease. A noble Lord,
late ambassador to this country, told me, that when he visited a young
and beautiful woman of fashion, (I think too it was a first visit after
marriage) she received him sitting up in her bed; and before he went,
her _fille de chambre_ brought his Lordship _Madame le Comtesse_'s shift
elegantly festooned, which his Lordship had the honour to put over the
Lady's head, as she sat in bed!--nor was there, by that favour, the
least indecency meant; it was a compliment intended; and, as such only,
received. Marks of favour of _that_ sort, are not marks of _further
favours_ from a French Lady.
In this vast city of amusements, among the _other arts_, I cannot help
pointing out to your particular notice, _Richlieu_'s monument in the
_Sorbonne_, as an inimitable piece of modern sculpture[G] by
_Girardeau_; and _Madame la Valliere's_ full-length portrait by _le
Brun_: She was, you know, mistress to _Lewis_ the XIVth, but retired to
the convent, in which the picture now is, and where she lived in
repentance and sorrow above thirty years.[H]
[G] VOLTAIRE says, this monument is not sufficiently noticed by
strangers.
[H] MADAME VALLIERE, during her retirement, being told of the death
of one of her sons, replied, "I should rather grieve for his birth,
than his death."
The _connoisseurs_ surely can find no reasonable fault with the
monumental artist; but they do, I think, with _le Brun_; the drapery,
they say, is too full, and that she is overcharged with garments; but
fulness of dress, adds not only dignity, but decency, to the person of
a fine woman, who meant (or the painter for her) to hide, not to expose
her charms.
If fulness be a fault, it is a fault that _Gainsborough_, _Hoare_,
_Pine_, _Reynolds_, and many other of our modern geniuses are _guilty
of_; and if it be _sin_, the best judges will acquit them for committing
it, where dignity is to be considered.
_Madame Valliere_ appears to have been scattering about her jewels, is
tearing her hair, crying, and looking up to the heavens, which seem
bursting forth a tempest over her head. The picture is well imagined,
and finely executed.
I found upon the bulk of a _portable shop_ in _Paris_, a most excellent
engraving from this picture,[I] and which carried me directly to visit
the original; it is indeed stained and dirty, but it is infinitely
superior to a later engraving which now hangs up in all the print shops,
and I suppose is from the first plate, which was done soon after the
picture was finished. Under it are written the following ingenious, tho'
I fear, rather impious lines:
Magdala dam gemmas, baccisque monile coruscum
Projicit, ac formæ detrahit arma suæ:
Dum vultum lacrymis et lumina turbat; amoris
Mirare insidias! hac capit arte Deum.
[I] In the possession of Mr. GAINSBOROUGH.
Shall I attempt to unfold this writer's meaning? Yes, I will, that my
friend at _Oxford_ may laugh, and do it as it ought to be done.
I.
The pearls and gems, her beauty's arms,
See sad VALLIERE foregoes;
And now assumes far other charms
Superior still to those.
II.
The tears that flow adown her cheek,
Than gems are brighter things;
For these an earthly Monarch seek,
But those the KING of Kings.
This seems to have been the author's thought, if he thought
_chastely_.--Shall I try again?
The pearls and gems her beauty's arms,
See sad VALLIERE foregoes:
Yet still those tears have other charms,
Superior far to those:
With those she gained an earthly Monarch's love:
With these she wins the KING of Kings above.
Yet, after all, I do suspect, that the author meant more than even _to
sneer_ a little at _poor Madam Valliere_; but, as I dislike common-place
poetry, (and poetry, as you see, dislikes _me_) I will endeavour to give
you the literal meaning, according to my conception, and then you will
see whether our _joint wits_ jump together.
While MAGDALENE throws by her bracelets, adorned with gems and pearls,
and (thus) disarms her beauty: while tears confound her countenance and
eyes,
With wonder mark the stratagems of love,
With this she captivates the GOD above.
The impious insinuation of the Latin lines, is the reason, I suppose,
why they were omitted under the more modern impression of this fine
print, and very middling French poetry superseding them.
LETTER LIII.
PARIS.
If you do not use _Herreis_' bills, I recommend to you at _Paris_, a
French, rather than an English banker; I have found the former more
profitable, and most convenient. I had, ten years since, a letter of
credit on _Sir John Lambert_, for £300, from _Mess. Hoares_. The
_Knight_ thought proper, however, to refuse the payment of a twenty
pound draft I gave upon him; though I had not drawn more than half my
credit out of his hands. _Mons. Mary_, on whom I had a draft from the
same respectable house, this year will not do _such things_; but on the
contrary, be ready to serve and oblige strangers to the utmost of his
power: he speaks and writes English very well, and will prove an
agreeable and useful acquaintance to a stranger in _Paris_. His sister
too, who lives with him, will be no less so to the female part of your
family. His house is in _Rue Saint Sauveur_.
The English bankers pay in silver, and it is necessary to take a
wheel-barrow with you to bring it away; a small bag will do at the
French bankers'.
There is as much difference between the bankers of _London_ and bankers
in _Paris_, as between a rotten apple and a sound one. You can hardly
get a word from a London banker, but you are sure of getting your money;
in _Paris_, you will get _words_ enough, and civil ones too. Remember,
however, I am speaking only of the treatment I have experienced. There
may be, and are, no doubt, English bankers at _Paris_ of great worth,
and respectable characters.
It is not reckoned very decent to frequent coffee-houses at _Paris_; but
the politeness of _Monsieur_ and _Madame Felix, au caffe de Conti_,
opposite the _Pont neuf_, and the English news-papers, render their
house a pleasant circumstance to me; and it is by much the best, and
best situated, of any in _Paris, au vois le monde_.
I am astonished, that where such an infinite number of people live in so
small a compass, (for _Paris_ is by no means so large as _London_) that
they should suffer the dead to be buried in the manner they do, or
within the city. There are several burial pits in _Paris_, of a
prodigious size and depth, in which the dead bodies are laid, side by
side, without any earth being put over them till the ground tier is
full; then, and not till then, a small layer of earth covers them, and
another layer of dead comes on, till by layer upon layer, and dead upon
dead, the hole is filled with a mass of human corruption, enough to
breed a plague; these places are enclosed, it is true, within high
walls; but nevertheless, the air cannot be _improved_ by it; and the
idea of such an assemblage of putrifying bodies, in one grave, so thinly
covered, is very disagreeable. The burials in churches too, often prove
fatal to the priests and people who attend; but every body, and every
thing in _Paris_, is so much alive, that not a soul thinks about the
dead.
I wish I had been born a Frenchman.--Frenchmen live as if they were
never to die. Englishmen die all _their lives_; and yet as _Lewis_ the
XIVth said, "I don't think it is so difficult a matter to die, as men
generally imagine, when they try in earnest."
I must tell you before I leave _Paris_, that I stept over to _Marli_, to
see the Queen; I had seen the King nine years ago; but he was not then a
King over eight millions of people, and the finest country under the
sun; yet he does not seem to lay so much stress upon his mighty power as
might be expected from so young a prince, but appears grave and
thoughtful. I am told he attends much to business, and endeavours to
make his subjects happy. His resolution to be inoculated, immediately
after succeeding to such a kingdom, is a proof of his having a great
share of fortitude. In England such a determination would have been
looked upon with indifference; but in France, where the bulk of the
people do not believe that it secures the patient from a second attack;
where the clergy in general consider it unfavourable, even in a
religious light; and where the physical people, for want of practice, do
not understand the management of the distemper, so as it is known in
England; I may venture to say, without being charged with flattery, that
it was an heroic resolution: add to this, the King knowing, that if his
subjects followed his example, it must be chiefly done by their own
surgeons and physicians, he put himself under their management alone,
though I think _Sutton_ was then at _Paris_.
The Queen is a fine figure, handsome, and very sprightly, dresses in
the present _gout_ of head dress, and without a handkerchief, and
thereby displays a most lovely neck.
I saw in a china shop at _Paris_, the figure of the King and Queen
finely executed, and very like, in china: the King is playing on the
harp, and the Queen dropping her work to listen to the harmony. The two
figures, about a foot high, were placed in an elegant apartment, and the
_toute ensemble_ was the prettiest toy I ever beheld: the price thirty
guineas.
I shall leave this town in a few days, and take the well-known and
well-beaten _route Anglois_ for _Calais_, thro' _Chantilly_, _Amiens_,
and _Boulogne_, and then I shall have twice crossed this mighty kingdom.
LETTER LIV.
CALAIS.
I am now returned to the point from whence I sat out, and rather within
the revolution of one year; which, upon the whole, though I met with
many untoward circumstances, has been the most interesting and
entertaining year of my whole life, and will afford me matter of
reflection for the little which remains unfinished of that journey we
must all take sooner or later, a journey from whence no traveller
returns.--And having said so much of myself, I am sure you will be glad
to change the subject from man to beast, especially to such a one as I
have now to speak of.
I told you, when I set out, that I had bought a handsome-looking English
horse for seven guineas, but a little touched in his wind; I can now
inform you, that when I left this town, he was rather thin, and had a
sore back and shoulder; both which, by care and caution; were soon
healed, and that he is returned fair and fat, and not a hair out of its
place, though he drew two grown persons, two children, (one of thirteen
the other ten years old) a very heavy French cabriolet, and all our
baggage, nay, almost all my goods, chattels, and worldly property
whatever, outward and homeward, except between _Cette_ and _Barcelona_,
_going_, and _Lyons_ and this town _returning!_ I will point out to you
one of his day's work, by which you will be able to judge of his general
power of working: At _Perpignan_, I had, to save him, hired post-horses
to the first town in Spain, as I thought it might be too much for him to
ascend and descend the _Pyrenees_ in one day; beside sixteen miles to
the foot of them, on this side, and three to _Jonquire_ on the other;
but after the horses were put to, the post-master required me to take
two men to _Boulou_, in order to hold the chaise, and to prevent its
overturning in crossing the river near the village. Such a flagrant
attempt to impose, determined me to take neither horses nor men; and at
seven o'clock I set off with _Callee_ (that is my houyhnhnm's name) and
arrived in three hours at _Boulou_, a paltry village, but in a situation
fit for the palace of AUGUSTUS!
So far from wanting men from _Perpignan_ to conduct my chaise over the
river, the whole village were, upon our arrival, in motion after the
JOB. We, however, passed it, without any assistance but our own weight
to keep the wheels down, and the horse's strength and sturdiness, to
drag us through it. In about three hours more we passed over the summit
of this great chain of the universe; and in two more, arrived at
_Jonquire_: near which village my horse had a little bait of fresh mown
hay, the first, and last, he eat in that kingdom. And when I tell you
that this faithful, and (for a great part of my journey) only servant I
had, never made a _faux pas_, never was so tired, but that upon a pinch,
he could have gone a league or two farther; nor ever was ill, lame,
physicked, or bled, since he was mine; you will agree, that either he is
an uncommon good horse, or that his master is a good groom! Indeed I
will say that, however fatigued, wet, hundry, or droughty I was, I never
partook of any refreshment till my horse had every comfort the inn could
afford. I carried a wooden bowl to give him water, and never passed a
brook without asking him to drink.--And, as he has been my faithful
servant, I am now his; for he lives under the same roof with me, and
does nothing but eat, drink, and sleep.--As he never sees me nor hears
my voice, without taking some affectionate notice of me, I ventured to
ask him _tenderly_, whether he thought he should be able to draw two of
the same party next year to _Rome?_ No tongue could more plainly express
his willingness! he answered me, _in French_, indeed, _we-we-we-we-we_,
said he; so perhaps he might not be sincere, tho' he never yet deceived
me. If, however, he should not go, or should out-live me, which, is very
probable, my dying request to you will be, to procure him a peaceful
walk for the remainder of his days, within the park-walls of some humane
private gentleman; though I flatter myself the following petition will
save _you_ that trouble, and _me_ the concern of leaving him without
that comfort which his faithful services merit.
_To_ SIR JAMES TYLNEY LONG, _Bart._
_A Faithful Servant's humble Petition_,
SHEWETH,
That your petitioner entered into the service of his present master, at
an advanced age, and at a time too, that he laboured under a pulmonic
disorder, deemed incurable; yet by gentle exercise, wholesome food, and
kind usage, he has been enabled to accompany his master from _Calais_ to
_Artois_. _Cambray_, _Rheims_, _St. Dezier_, _Dijon_, _Challons_,
_Macon_, _Lyons_, _Pont St. Esprit_, _Pont du Garde_, _Nismes_,
_Montpellier_, _Cette_, _Narbonne_, _Perpignan_ the _Pyrenees_
_Barcelona_, _Montserrat_, _Arles_, _Marseilles_, _Toulouse_, _Avignon_,
_Aix_, _Valence_, _Paris_, and back to _Calais_, in the course of one
year: And that your petitioner has acquitted himself so much to his
master's satisfaction, that he has promised to take him next year to
_Rome_; and upon his return, to get him a _sine-cure_ place for the
remainder of his days; and, as your petitioner can produce a certificate
of his honesty, sobriety, steadiness, and obedience to his master; and
wishes to throw himself under the protection of a man of fortune, honour
and humanity, he is encouraged by his said master to make this his
humble prayer to you, who says that to above three hundred letters he
has lately written, to ask a small boon for himself, he did not receive
above three answers that gave him the pleasure your's did though he had
twenty times better pretensions to an hundred and fifty. And as your
petitioner has _seen a great deal of the world, as well as his master_,
and has always observed, that such men who are kind to their
fellow-creatures, are kind also to brutes; permit an humble brute to
throw himself at your feet, and to ask upon his return from _Rome_ a
_lean-to_ shed, under your park-wall, that he may end his days in his
native country, and afford a _repas_, at his death, to the dogs of a
Man who feeds the poor, cloaths the naked, and who knows how to make use
of the noblest privilege which a large fortune can bestow,--that of
softening the calamities of mankind, and making glad the hearts of those
who are oppressed with misfortunes.--Your petitioner, therefore, who has
never, been upon his _knees before_ to any man living, humbly prays that
he may be admitted within your park-pail, and that he may partake of
that bounty which you bestow in common to your own servants, who, by age
or misfortunes are past their labour; in which request your petitioner's
master impowers him to use his name and joint prayer with
CALLEE.
I do hereby certify, that nothing is advanced in the above petition, but
what is strictly true, and that if the petitioner had been able to
express himself properly, his merits and good qualities would have
appeared to much greater advantage, as well as his services; as he has
omitted many towns he attended his master to, besides a variety of
smaller journies; that he is cautious, wary, spirited, diligent,
faithful, and honest; that he is not nice, but eats, with appetite, and
good temper, whatever is set before him; and that he is in all respects
worthy of that asylum he asks, and which his master laments more on his
account than his own, that he cannot give him.
PHILIP THICKNESSE.
_Calais, the 4th of Nov._
1776.
LETTER LV.
CALAIS.
On our way here, we spent two or three days at _Chantilly_, one, of
fifty _Chatteaus_ belonging to the PRINCE OF CONDE: for, though we had
visited this delightful place, two or three times, some years ago, yet,
beside its natural beauties, there is always something new. One spot we
found particularly pleasing, nay flattering to an Englishman; it is
called _l'Isle d'Amour_, in which there are some thatched cottages, a
water-mill, a garden, shrubbery, &c. in the English taste, and the whole
is, in every respect, well executed. The dairy is neat, and the milkmaid
not ugly, who has her little villa, as well as the miller. There is also
a tea-house, a billiard-room, an eating-room, and some other little
buildings, all externally in the English village stile, which give the
lawn, and serpentine walks that surround them, a very pastoral
appearance. The eating-room is particularly well fancied, being covered
within, and so painted as to produce a good idea of a close arbor; the
several windows, which are pierced through the sides, have such forms,
as the fantastic turn of the bodies of the painted trees admit of; and
the building is in a manner surrounded with natural trees; the room,
when illuminated for the Prince's supper, has not only a very pleasing
effect, but is a well executed deception, for the real trees falling
into perspective with those which are painted, through the variety of
odd-shaped windows, has a very natural, and consequently a very pleasing
effect; but what adds greatly to the deception, is, that at each corner
of the room the floor is opened, and lumps of earth thrown up, which
bear, in full perfection, a great variety of flowers and flowering
shrubs. We had the honour to be admitted while the Prince of _Conde_,
the Duke and Duchess of _Bourbon_, the Princess of _Monaco_, and two or
three other ladies and gentlemen were at supper; a circumstance which
became rather painful to us, as it seemed to occasion some to the
company, and particularly to the Prince, who inquired who we were, and
took pains to shew every sort of politeness he could to strangers he
knew nothing of. The supper was elegantly served on plate; but there
seemed to me too many servants round the table. The conversation was
very little, and very reserved. I do not recollect that I saw scarce a
smile during the whole time of supper.
The Prince is a sprightly, agreeable man, something in person like _Lord
Barrington_; and the _Duke_ of _Bourbon_ so like his father, that it was
difficult to know the son from the father.
The _Duchess_ of _Bourbon_ is young, handsome, and a most accomplished
lady.
During the supper, a good band of music played; but it was all wind
instruments. Mr. _Lejeune_, the first bassoon, is a most capital
performer indeed.
After the dessert had been served up about ten minutes, the Princess of
_Monaco_ rose from the table, as did all the company, and suddenly
turning from it, each lady and gentleman's servant held them a water
glass, which they used with great delicacy, and then retired.
The Princess of _Monaco_ is separated from the Prince her husband; yet
she has beauty enough for any Prince in Europe, and brought fortune
enough for two or three.
The Duchess of _Bourbon_ had rather a low head-dress, and without any
feather, or, that I could perceive, _rouge_; the Princess of _Monaco's_
head-dress was equally plain; the two other ladies, whose rank I do not
recollect, wore black caps, and hats high dressed. There were eight
persons sat down to table, and I think, about twenty-five servants, in
and out of livery, attended.
The next day, we were admitted to see the Prince's cabinet of natural
and artificial curiosities; and as I intimated my design of publishing
some account of my journey, the Prince was pleased to allow me as much
time as I chose, to examine his very large and valuable collection;
among which is a case of gold medallions,(72) of the Kings of France, in
succession, a great variety of birds and beasts, ores, minerals,
petrifactions, gems, cameos, &c. There is also a curious cabinet, lately
presented to the Prince by the King of Denmark; and near it stood a most
striking representation, in wax, of a present said to be _served up_ to
a late unfortunate Queen; it is the head and right hand of _Count
Struensee_, as they were taken off after the execution; the head and
hand lie upon a silver dish, with the blood and blood vessels too, well
executed; never surely was any thing so _sadly_, yet so finely done. I
defy the nicest eye, however near, to distinguish it (suppose the head
laid upon a pillow in a bed) from nature; nor must Mrs. _Wright_, or any
of the workers in wax I have ever yet seen, pretend to a tythe of the
perfection in that art, with the man who made this head.--Sad as the
subject is, I could not withstand the temptation of asking permission to
take a copy of it; and fortunately, I found the man who made it was then
at _Paris_,--nor has he executed his work for me less perfect than that
he made for the Prince.--I have been thus particular in mentioning this
piece of art, because, of the kind, I will venture to say, it is not
only _deadly_ fine, but one of the most perfect deceptions ever seen.
When you, or any of the ladies and gentlemen who have honoured this poor
performance of mine with their names, or their family or friends, pass
this way, I shall be happy to embrace that occasion, to shew, that I
have not said more of this inimitable piece of art, than it merits; nor
do I speak thus positively from my own judgment, but have the concurrent
opinion of many men of unquestionable judgment, that it is a
master-piece of art; and among the rest, our worthy and valuable friend
Mr. _Sharp_, of the _Old Jewry_.
Before we left _Chantilly_, we had a little concert, to which _my train_
added one performer; and as it was the only string instrument, it was no
small addition.
The day we left this charming place, we found the Prince and all his
company under tents and pavilions on the road-side, from whence they
were preparing to follow the hounds.
At _Amiens_, there is in the _Hotel de Ville_, a little antique god in
bronze, which was found, about four years ago, near a Roman urn, in the
earth, which is very well worthy of the notice of a _connoisseur_; but
it is such as cannot decently be described; the person in whose custody
it is, permitted me to take an impression from it in wax; but I am not
_quite so good_ a hand at waxwork as the artist mentioned above, and yet
my little houshold-god has some merit, a merit too that was not
discovered till three months after it had been fixed in the _Hotel de
Ville_; and the discovery was made by a female, not a male,
_connoisseur_.
It is said, that a Hottentot cannot be so civilized, but that he has
always a hankering after his savage friends, and _dried chitterlins_;
and, that gypsies prefer their roving life, to any other, a circumstance
that once did, but now no longer surprizes me; for I feel such a desire
to wander again, that I am impatient till the winter is past, when I
intend to visit _Geneva_, and make the tour of Italy; and if you can
find me cut a sensible valetudinarian or two, of either sex, or any
age, who will travel as we do, to see what is to be seen, to make a
little stay, where _the place_, or _the people_ invite us to do so, who
can dine on a cold partridge, in a hot day, under a shady tree; and
travel in a _landau and one_, we will keep them a _table d'hote_, that
shall be more pleasant than expensive, and which will produce more
health and spirits, than half the drugs of Apothecary's Hall.
If God delights so much in variety, as all things animate and inanimate
sufficiently prove, no wonder that man should do so too: and I have now
been so accustomed to move, though slowly, that I intend to creep on to
my _journey's end_, by which means I may live to have been an inhabitant
of every town almost in Europe, and die, as I have lately (and wish I
had always) lived, a free citizen of the whole world, slave to no sect,
nor subject to any King. Yet, I would not be considered as one wishing
to promote that disposition in others; for I must confess, that it is in
England alone, where an innocent and virtuous man can sit down and enjoy
the blessings of liberty and his own chearful hearth, in full confidence
that no earthly power can disturb it; and the best reason which can be
offered in favour of Englishmen visiting other kingdoms, is, to enable
them, upon their return, to know how to enjoy the inestimable blessings
of their own.
LETTER LVI.
For what should I cross the streight which divides us, though it were
but _half_ seven leagues? we should only meet to part again, and
purchase pleasure, as most pleasures are purchased, too dearly; I have
dropt some heavy tears, (ideally at least) over poor BUCKLE'S[J] grave,
and it is all one to a man, now with GOD! on what King's soil such a
_tribute as that_ is paid: had some men of all nations known the
goodness of his heart as we did, some men of all nations would grieve as
we do. When I frequented _Morgan's_[K] I used him as a touch-stone, to
try the hearts of other men upon; for, as he was not rich, he was out of
the walk of knaves and flatterers, and such men, who were moot
prejudiced in his favour at first sight, and coveted not his company
after a little acquaintance, I always avoided as beings made of base
metal. It was for this reason I despised that ****** ****, (you know who
I mean) for you too have seen him _snarl_, _and bite_, _and play the
dog_, even to BUCKLE!
[J] WILLIAM BUCKLE, Esq.
[K] MORGAN'S Coffee-House, Grove, BATH.
Our Sunday night's tea club, round his chearful hearth, is now for ever
dissolved, and SHARPE and RYE have administered their last friendly
offices with a potion of sorrow.
Were I the hermit of _St. Catharine_, I would chissel his name as deeply
into one of my pine-heads, as his virtues are impressed on my memory.
Though I have lost _his guinea_, I will not lose his name; he looked
down with pity upon me when here; who can say he may not do so still? I
should be an infidel, did not a few such men as he _keep me back_.
And now, my dear Sir, after the many trifling subjects in this very long
correspondence with you, I will avail myself of this good one, to close
it, on the noblest work of GOD, AN HONEST MAN. The loss of such a
friend, is sufficient to induce one to lay aside all pursuits, but that
of following his example, and to prepare to follow him.
If you should ever follow me _here_, I flatter myself you will find,
that I have, to the best of my poor abilities, made such a sketch of
_men and things_ on this side of the water, that you will be able to
discover some likeness to the originals. A bad painter often hits the
general features, though he fall ever so short of the graces of
_Titian_, or the _Morbidezza_ of _Guido_. I am sure, therefore, you and
every man of candour, will make allowances for the many inaccuracies,
defects, &c. which I am sensible these letters abound with, tho' I am
incapable of correcting them. My journey, you know was not made, as most
travellers' are, to indulge in luxury, or in pursuit of pleasures, but
to soften sorrow, and to recover from a blow, which came from a mighty
hand indeed; but a HAND still MORE MIGHTY, has enabled me to resist it,
and to return in health, spirits, and with that peace of mind which no
_earthly power_ can despoil me of, and with that friendship and regard
for you, which will only cease, when I cease to be
PHILIP THICKNESSE.
_Calais, Nov. 4,
1776._
P.S. I found _Berwick's_ regiment on duty in this town: it is commanded
by _Mons. le Duc de Fitz-James_, and a number of Irish gentlemen, my
countrymen, (for so I will call them.) You may easily imagine, that men
who possess the natural hospitality of their own country, with the
politeness and good-breeding of this, must be very agreeable
acquaintance in general: But I am bound to go farther, and to say, that
I am endeared to them by marks of true friendship. The King of France,
nor any Prince in Europe, cannot boast of troops better disciplined; nor
is the King insensible of their merit, for I have lately seen a letter
written by the King's command from _Comte de St. Germain_, addressed to
the officers of one of these corps, whereby it appears, that the King is
truly sensible of their distinguished merit; for braver men there are
not in any service:--What an acquisition to France! what a loss to
Britain!
As the _Marquis_ of _Grimaldi_ is retired from his public character, I
am tempted to send you a specimen of his private one, which flattering
as it is to me, and honourable to himself, I should have withheld, had
his Excellency continued first minister of Spain; by which you will see,
that while my own countrymen united to set me in a suspicious light,
(though they thought otherwise) the ministers politeness and humanity
made them tremble at the duplicity of their conduct; and had I been
disposed to have acted the same sinister part they did, some of them
might have been reminded of an old Spanish proverb,
"_A las màlas lénguas tigéras_"
"Muy S^or. mio. Por la carta de I^o del corr^te. veo su
feliz llegada a esta ciudad, en donde habia tomado una casa, y por
las cartas que me incluye, y debuelbo, reconosco los terminos
honrados y recomendables con que ha efectuado su salida de
Inglaterra, cosa que yo nunca podria dudar.
"Deseo que a V.S. le va' ya muy bien en este Reyno, y espero que me
avifara el tiempo que se propusiere detener en Barcelona, y tambien
quando se verificara su yda a Valencia: cuyo Pais se ha creydo el mas
propio para su residencia estable, por la suavidad del clima y demas
circunstantias.--V.S. me hallara pronto a complacerle y sevirle en lo
que se le ofrezca: que es quendo en el dia puedo decirle,
referiendome ademas a mis cartas precedentes communicadas por medio
de ... Dios quiere a V.S. M^o c^o d^o S^r el 14 Nov^re. de 1775.
"B L.M. en. S.
Su mayor fer^or.
El Marq^s de GRIMALDI,
_A Don Felipe Thickness_."
_A Madame_ THICKNESSE.
Voila, Madame, quelques amusemens de ma plume, vous avez paru les
desirer, mon empressement a vous obeir sera le merite de ces legeres
productions; la premiere a eu assez de succes en France, je doute
qu'elle puisse en avoir un pareil en Angleterre, parce que le mot n'a
peut-etre pas la meme signification ce que nous appellons Grelot est une
petite cochette fermee que l'on attache aux hochets des enfans pour les
amuser; dans le sens metaphysique on en fait un des attributs de la
folie: Ice je l'employe comme embleme de gaiete et d'enfance. Le Pritems
est une Epitre ecrite de la campagne a un de mes amis; j'etois sous le
charme de la creation, pour ainsi dire; les vers en font d'une
mesuretres difficile.
La description de Courcelles est celle d'une terre qu'avoit ma mere, et
ou j'ai passe toute ma jeunesse; enchantee de son paysage, et de la vie
champetre que j'aime passion, je l'adressois a un honnete homme de
Rheims que j'appellois par plaisanterie mon Papa: ce que j'ai de
meilleur dans mon porte-feuille, ce sont des chansons pour mon mari;
comme je l'aime parfaitement mon coeur m'a servi de muse: mais cette
tendresse toujours si delicieuse aux interesses ne peut plaire a ceux
qui ne le sont pas. Quand j'auri l'honneur de vous revoir, Madame, je
vous communiquerai mon recueil, et vous jugerez. Recevez les hommages
respectueux de mon mari, et daignezfaire agreér nos voeux a Mons.
Tiennerse; je n'ai point encore reçu les jolies poches, je pars demain
pour la campagne, et j'y resterai quinze jours; nous avons des chaleurs
cruelles, Messrs. les Anglois qui sont ici en souffrent beaucoup, j'ai
l'honneur d'etre avec le plus inviolable attachement,
Madame,
Votre tres humble
et tres obeissante servante,
_De Courcelles Desjardins._
28 Juillet, 1776.
_Epitre au Grelot._
De la folie aimable lot
Don plus brillant que la richesse,
Et que je nommerai sagesse
Si je ne craignois le fagot,
C'est toi que je chante ô Grelot!
Hochet heureux de tous les ages
L'homme est à toi dès le maillot,
Mais dans tes nombreux appanages
Jamais tu ne comptas le sot:
De tes sons mitigés le sage
En tapinois se rejouït
Tandis que l'insensé jouït
Du plaisir de faire tapage.
Plus envié que dédaigné
Par cette espece atrabilaire
Qui pense qu'un air refrogné
La met au dessus du vulgaire,
La privation de tes bienfaits
Seule fait naître sa satyre;
Charmante idole du François
Chez lui réside ton empire:
Tes détracteurs font les pedans,
Les avares et les amans
De cette gloire destructive
Qui peuple l'infernale rive,
Et remplit l'univers d'excès.
L'ambitieux dans son délire
N'eprouve que de noirs accès,
Le genre-humain seroit en paix,
Si les conquérans savoient rire.
Contre ce principe évident
C'est en vain qu'un censeur declame,
Le mal ne se fait en riant.
Si de toi provient l'epigrame,
Son tour heureux ne'est que plaisant
Et ne nuit jamais qu'au méchant
Que sa conscience décèle.
Nomme t-on la rose cruelle
Lorsqu'un mal-adroit la cueillant
Se blesse lui-même au tranchant
De l'epine qu'avec prudence
Nature fit pour sa défense.
Tes simples et faciles jeux
Prolongent dit-on notre enfance
Censeur, que te faut-il de mieux!
Des abus, le plus dangereux,
Le plus voisin de la démence
Est de donner trop d'importance
A ces chiméres dont les cieux
Ont composé notre existence
Notre devoir est d'être heureux
A moins de frais, à moins de voeux
De l'homme est toute la science.
Par tes sons toujours enchanteurs
Tu fais fuir la froide vieillesse
Ou plutôt la couvrant de fleurs
Tu lui rends l'air de la jeunesse.
Du temps tu trompes la lenteur,
Par toi chaque heure est une fête
_Démocrite_ fut ton Docteur
_Anacréon_ fut ton Prophête;
Tous deux pour sages reconnus,
L'un riant des humains abus
Te fit sonner dans sa retraite
L'autre chantant à la guingette
Te donna pour pomme à _Venus_
Après eux ma simple musette
T'offre ses accens ingénus
Charmant Grelot, sur ta clochette
Je veux moduler tous mes vers,
Sois toujours la douce amusette
Source de mes plaisirs divers
Heureux qui te garde en cachette
Et se passe l'univers.
_Le Printems._
Epitre à Mons. D----
Déjà dans la plaine
On ressent l'haleine
Du léger Zephir;
Déja la nature
Sourit au plaisir,
La jeune verdure
A l'eclat du jour
Oppose la teinte
Que cherit l'amour
Fuyant la contrainte,
Au pied des ormeaux;
Ma muse naïve
Reprend ses pipeaux;
Sur la verte rive
Aux tendres echos
Elle dit ces mots.
Volupté sure
Bien sans pareil!
O doux réveil
De la nature!
Que l'ame pure
Dans nos guérets
Avec yvresse
Voit tes attraits;
De la tendresse
Et de la paix
Les doux bienfaits
Sur toute espéce
Vont s'epandant,
Et sont l'aimant
Dont la magie
Enchaîne et lie
Tout l'univers
L'homme pervers
Dans sa malice
Ferme son coeur
A ces delices,
Et de l'erreur
Des goûts factices
Fait son bonheur
La noire envie
Fille d'orgueil,
Chaque furie
Jusqu'au circueil,
Tisse sa vie.
Les vains désirs
Les vrais plaisirs
Sont antipodes;
A ces pagodes
Culte se rend,
L'oeil s'y méprend
Et perd de vuë
Felicité,
La Déité
La plus couruë
La moins connuë
Simple réduit
Et solitaire
Jadis construit
Par le mystére
Est aujourd'hui
Sa residencei
La bienveillance.
Au front serein
De la déesse
Est la Prêtresse;
Les ris badins
Sont sacristains,
Joyeux fidelles,
De fleurs nouvelles
Offrent les dons.
Tendres chansons
Tribut du Zele,
Jointes au sons
De Philoméle,
De son autel
Sont le rituel
Dans son empire
Telle est la loi,
"Aimer et rire
De bonne foy."
Cet Evangile
Peu difficile
Du vrai bonheur
Seroit auteur
Si pour apôtre
Il vous avoit;
En vain tout autre
Le prêcheroit.
La colonie
Du double mont
Du vraie génie
Vous a fait don,
Sans nul caprice
Entrez en lice,
Et de Passif
Venant actif
Pour la Déesse
Enchanteresse
Qui dans ces lieux
Nous rend heureux
Donnez moi rose
Nouvelle éclose:
Du doux Printems
Hâtez le tems
Il etincelle
En vos écrits,
Qu'il renouvelle
Mes Esprits.
Adieu beau Sire,
Pour ce délire
Le sentiment
Est mon excuse.
S'il vous amuse
Un seul moment,
Et vous rapelle
Un coeur fidelle
Depuis cent ans,
Comme le vôtre
En tous les tems
N'ai désir autre.
FABLE
_Les Aquilons et l'Oranger._
De fougeux Aquilons une troupe emportée
Contre un noble Oranger éxhaloit ses fureurs
Ils soufflerent en vain, leur rage mutinée
De l'arbre aux fruits dorés n'ôta que quelques fleurs.
MADRIGAL
Du tumulte, du bruit, des vaines passions
Fuyons l'eclat trompeur: à leurs impressions
Préférons les douceurs de ce sejour paisible,
Disoit un jour _Ariste_ à la tendre _Délos_.
Soit, repart celle-ci; mais las! ce doux repos
N'est que le pis-aller d'une ame trop sensible.
QUATRAIN
Telle que ce ruisseau qui promene son onde
Dans des lieux ecartés loin du bruit et du monde
Je veux pour peu d'amis éxister desormais
C'est loin des faux plaisirs que l'on trouve les vrais.
REVERIE SUR UNE LECTURE.
Aux froids climats de l'ourse, et dans ceux du midi,
L'homme toujours le même est vain, foible, et crédule,
Sa devise est partout _Sottise et Ridicule_.
Le célébre Chinois, le François étourdi
De la raison encore n'ont que le crepuscule
Jadis au seul hazard donnant tout jugement,
Par les effets cuisans du fer rougi qui brule
On croyoit discerner le foible et l'innocent;
A Siam aujourd'hui pareille erreur circule,
Et l'on voit même esprit sous une autre formule:
Quand quelque fait obscur tient le juge en suspens
On fait aux yeux de tous à chaque contendant
D'Esculape avaler purgative pillule,
Celui dont l'estomac répugne à pareil mets
Est réputé coupable et paye tous les frais.
Du pauvre genre-humain telles sont les annales:
Rome porta le deuil de l'honneur des vestales,
Du Saint Pere à présent, elle baise l'ergot:
Plus gais, non plus sensés dans ce siécle falot
Nous choisissons au moins l'erreur la plus jolie:
De l'inquisition, le bal, la comédie
Remplacent parmi nous le terrible fagot;
Notre légéreté détruit la barbarie
Mais nous n'avons encore que changé de folie.
ENVOI A MON MARI.
Tandis, mon cher, que tes travaux
Me procurent ce doux repos.
Et cette heureuse insouciance
But incertain de l'opulence;
Mon ame l'abeille imitant
Aux pays d'esprit élancée
Cueille les fleurs de la pensée
Et les remet aux sentiment.
Mais helas! dans ce vaste champ
En vain je cherche la sagesse,
Près de moi certain Dieu fripon
Me fait quitter l'école de _Zenon_
Pour le charme de la tendresse;
"L'homme est crée pour être bon
Et non savant, dit il, qu'il aime,
Du bonheur c'est le vrai systême"
Je sens, ma foi, qu'il a raison.
DESCRIPTION
_De la terre dans laquelle j'habitois, adressée à un homme très
respectable que j'appellois mon Papa._
Que vous êtes aimable, mon cher Papa, de me demander une description de
ma solitude. Votre imagination est gênée de ne pouvoir se la peindre.
Vous voulez faire de _Courcelles_ une seconde étoile du matin, et y lier
avec moi un de ces commerces d'ames réservés aux favoris de Brama. Votre
idée ne me perdra plus de vue, j'en ferai mon génie tutélaire. Je
croirai à chaque instant sentir sa présence, ah! elle ne peut trop tôt
arriver, montrons lui donc le chemin.
Quittant votre cité Rhémoise,
Ville si fertil en bons Vins,
En gras moutons, en bons humains,
Après huit fois trois mille toises
Toujours suivant le grand chemin,
On découvre enfin le village
Où se trouve notre hermitage.
Là rien aux yeux du voyageur
Ne presente objet de surprise,
Petit ruisseau, des maisons, une Eglise
Tout à côté la hutte du Pasteur;
Car ces Messieurs pour quelques Patenôtres.
Pour un surplis, pour un vêtement noir
En ce monde un peu plus qu'en l'autre
Ont droit près du bon dieu d'établir leur manoir.
Ce début n'est pas fort seduisant; aussi ne vous ai-je rien promis de
merveilleux. Je pourrois cependant pour embellir ma narration me perdre
dans de brillantes descriptions, et commencer par celle de notre
clocher; mais malheureusement nous n'en avons point; car je ne crois pas
que l'on puisse appeller de ce nom l'endroit presque souterrain où
logent trois mauvaises cloches. Elles m'étourdissent par fois au point
que sans leur baptême, je les enverrois aux enfers sonner les diners de
_Pluton_ et de _Proserpine_.
On apperçoit près de l'Eglise, entre elle et le curé, une petite fenêtre
grillée, ceci est une vraie curiosité; c'est un sépulcre bâti par
_Saladin d'Anglure_, ancien Seigneur de _Courcelles_ il vivoit du tems
des croisades, et donna comme les autres dans la manie du siécle. Il ne
fut pas plus heureux que ses confreres. Son sort fut d'être prisonnier
du vaillant Saladin dont il conserva le surnom. Sa captivité l'ennuyant,
il fit voeu, si elle finissoit bientôt, de bàtir dans sa Seigneurie un
sépulcre, et un calvaire à même distance l'un de l'autre qu'ils le sont
à Jérusalum. C'est aussi ce qu'il fit.
Quand par une aventure heureuse,
Des fers du Vaillant _Saladin_
Il revint chez lui sauf et sain;
Mais la chronique scandaleuse
Qui daube toujours le prochain,
Et ne se repâit que de blame
Pretend que trop tôt pour Madame,
Et trop tard pour le Pelerin
Dans son Châtel il s'en revint.
Ce fut, dit on, le lendemain,
La veille, ou le jour que la Dame,
Croyant son mari très benin
Parti pour la gloire éternelle
Venoit de contracter une hymenée nouvelle.
La tradition étoit en balance sur ces trois dates; mais la malignité
humaine a donné la préférence à la derniére, ensorte qu'il paroit trés
sur que l'Epoux n'arriva que le lendemain.
Quel affront pour un chef couronné de lauriers!
Tel est pourtant le sort des plus fameux guerriers;
Ceux d'aujourd'hui n'en font que rire
Mais ceux du tems passé mettoient la chose au pis,
Ils n'avoient pas l'esprit de dire
Nous sommes quitte, et bons amis.
Pendant que vous êtes en train de visiter nos antiquités courcelloises,
il me prend envie de vous faire entrer dans notre réduit.
Quoique du titre de château,
Pompeusement on le decore,
Ne vous figurez pas qu'il soit vaste ni beau.
Tel que ces Grands que l'on honore
Pour les vertus de leurs ayeux
Pour tout mérite il n'a comme eux
Qu'un nom qui se conserve encore.
Ainsi pour vous en former une juste idée, ne cherchez votre modéle ni
dans les romans, ni dans les miracles de féerie. Ce n'est pas même un
vieux château fort, comme il en éxiste encore quelques uns dàns nos
entours.
Point, on n'y voit fossé ni bastion
Ni demi-lune ni Dongeon,
Ni beaux dehors de structure nouvelle,
Mais bien une antique Tourelle
Flanquant d'assez, vieux bâtimens
Dont elle est l'unique ornement.
Un Poëte de nos cantons a dit assez plaisamment en parlant de ceci.
Sur les bords de la Vesle est un château charmant
N'allez pas chicaner, Lecteur impertinent)
(Le bâtiment à part, la Dame qui l'habite
Par ses rares vertus en fait tout le mérite.
Vous verrez tout-à l'heure s'il avoit raison.
Je ne m'arrêterai point à vous peindre la ferme quoi qu'elle tienne au
château, ni l'attirail des animaux de toute espèce qu'elle renferme.
Ces spectacles vraiment rustiques
Offrent pourtant plus de plaisirs
A des regards philosophiques,
Que ce que l'art et les desirs
De notre insatiable espèce
Inventent tous les jours aidés par la mollesse.
Je vous ferai entrer tout de suite dans une grande cour de gazon où
effectivement je voudrois bien vous voir. Deux manieses de Perrons y
conduisent, l'un aux appartemens, l'autre à la cuisine. Commençons par
ce dernier quoique ce ne soit pas trop la coutume.
Là chaque jour, tant bien que mal,
On apprete deux fois un repas très frugal,
Mais que l'appétit assaisonne.
Loin, bien loin, ces bruyans festins,
Toujours suivis des médecins
Où le poison dans cent ragoûts foisonne
Nous aimons mieux peu de mets bien choisis
De la Santé, moins de plats, plus de ris.
Voilà notre devise, mon cher Papa, je crois qu'elle est aussi la vôtre;
notre réz de chaussée consiste en cuisine, office, salle à manger,
chambre et cabinets, rien de tout cela n'est ni élegant ni commode.
Nos devanciers fort bonnes gens
N'entendoient rien aux ornemens
Et leurs désirs ne passoient guére
Les bornes du seul necessaire.
Ils étoient plus heureux et plus sages que nous, car la vraie sagesse
n'est autre chose que la modération des desirs. D'après cette
definition on pourroit, je crois, loger tout notre siécle aux petites
maisons. Ce qu'il y a de plus agréable dans la notre est la vuë du grand
chemin.
De ce chemin où chacun trotte
Où nous voyons soirs et matins
Passer toute espece d'humains;
Tantôt la gent portant calote,
Et tantôt de jeunes plumets,
Les rusés disciples d'Ignace
Puis ceux de la grace efficace,
Des piétons, des cabriolets
Tant d'Etres à deux pieds, sots, et colifichets,
Enfin cent sortes d'équipages
Et mille sortes de visages.
Ce tableau mouvant est par fois fort récréatif, il me paroit assez
plaisant d'y juger les gens sur la mine, et de deviner leur motif, et le
sujet de leurs courses.
Mais, Papa, qu'il est consolant
Voyant leurs soins et leur inquiétude
De jouir du repos constant
Qu'on goute dans la solitude.
A dire vrai, le spectacle du grand chemin, est celui qui m'occupe le
moins; j'aime mille fois mieux nos promenades champêtres; avant de yous
y conduire, il faut en historien fidelle vous rendre compte de notre
chaumiére.
Vous croyez peut-être trouver un premier étage au dessus de la façade
dont je vous ai parlé? Point du tout. Ne vous ai-je pas dit que nos
péres préferoient l'utile à l'agréable: aussi ont ils mieux aimé
construire de grands greniers que de jolis appartemens; mais en revanche
ils out jetté quantité de petites mansardes sur un autre côté du logis.
Ce dernier donne sur un verger qui fait mes délices, il est précédé d'un
petit parterre, et finit par un bois charmant.
Une onde toujours claire et pure
Y vient accorder souo murmure
Au son mélodieux de mille et mille oiseaux
Que cachent en tous tems nos jeunes arbrisseaux.
C'est là que votre fille se plait à rêver à vous, mon cher Papa, c'est
dans ce réduit agréable qu'elle s'occupe tour à tour de morale et de
tendresse.
_Epictete, Pope, Zénon._
Et _Socrate_, et surtout l'ingenieux _Platon_,
Viennent dans ces lieux solitaires
Me prêter le secours de leurs doctes lumiéres:
Mais plus souvent la soeur de l'enfant de Cypris
Ecartant sans respect cette foule de sages
Occupe seule mes esprits
En y gravant de mes amis
Les trop séduisantes images.
Je n'entreprendrai pas de vous peindre nos autres promenades, elles sont
toutes charmantes; un paysage coupé, quantité de petits bosquets, mille
jolis chemins, nous procurent naturellement des beautés auxquelles l'art
ne sauroit atteindre.
La Vesle borde nos prairies
Sur sa rive toujours fleurie
Regne un doux air de bergerie
Dangereux pour les tendres coeurs.
Là, qui se sent l'ame attendrie
S'il craint de l'amour les erreurs
Doit vite quitter la partie.
Quittons la donc, mon cher Papa; aussi bien ai-je seulement oublié de
vous montrer la plus piéce de l'hermitage. C'est un canal superbe. Il a
cent vingt toises de long sur douze de large, une eau courante et
crystalline en rend la surface toujours brillante, cest la digne embléme
d'un coeur ami, jugez si cette vuë me fait penser à vous.
De grands potagers terminent l'enclos de la maison. Si j'étois méchante
je continuerois ma description, et ne vous ferois pas grace d'une
laitue, mais je me contenteraide vous dire que le ciel fit sans doute ce
canton pour des Etres broutans. Si les Israëlites en eussent mangé
jadis, ils n'auroient ni regretté l'Egypte ni desiré la terre promise.
Voilà mon cher Papa une assez mauvaize esquisse du pays Courcellois.
L'air m'en seroit plus doux et le ciel plus serein
Si quelque jour, moins intraitable
Et se laissant flechir, le farouche Destin
Y conduisoit ce _trio_ tant aimable
Que j'aime, et chérirai sans fin
Mais las! j'y perds tout mon latin,
Et ce que de mieux je puis faire
Est d'espérer et de me taire
* * * * *
I should have stopt here, and finished my present correspondence with
you by leaving your mind harmonized with the above sweet stanzas of
_Madame des Jardins_, but that it may seem strange, to give a specimen
of one French Lady's literary talents, without acknowledging, that this
kingdom abounds with many, of infinite merit.--While England can boast
only of about half a dozen women, who will immortalize their names by
their works, France can produce half an hundred, admired throughout
Europe, for their wit, genius, and elegant compositions.--Were I to
recite the names and writings only of female authors of eminence, which
France has produced, since the time of the first, and most unfortunate
_Heloise_, who died in 1079, down to _Madame Riccoboni_, now living, it
would fill a volume. We have, however, a CARTER, and a BARBAULD, not
less celebrated for their learning and genius than for their private
virtues; and I think it may, with more truth be said of women, than of
men, that the more knowledge, the more virtue; the more understanding,
the less courage. Why then is the _plume elevated to the head_? and what
must the present mode of female education and manners end in, but in
more ignorance, dissipation, debauchery and luxury? and, at length, in
national ruin. Thus it was at ROME, the mistress of the world; they
became fond of the most vicious men, and such as meant to enslave them,
who corrupted their hearts, by humouring and gratifying their follies,
and encouraging, on all sides, idleness and dissolute manners, blinded
by CÆSAR's complaisance; from his _almsmen_, they became his _bondmen_;
he charmed them in order to enslave them. When the tragedy of _Tereus_
was acted at ROME, _Cicero_ observed, what plaudits the audience gave
with their hands at some severe strokes in it against tyranny; but he
very justly lamented, that they employed their hands, _only in the
Theatre_, not in defending that liberty which they seemed so fond of.
And now, as BAYES says, "let's have a Dance." ----
GENERAL HINTS
TO
STRANGERS
WHO
TRAVEL IN FRANCE.
GENERAL HINTS, &c.
I.
If you travel post, when you approach the town, or bourg where you
intend to lie, ask the post-boy, which house he recommends as the best?
and never go to that, if there is any other.--Be previously informed
what other inns there are in the same place. If you go according to the
post-boy's recommendation, the aubergiste gives him two or three livres,
which he makes you pay the next morning. I know but one auberge between
_Marseilles_ and _Paris_, where this is not a constant practice, and
that is at _Vermanton_, five leagues from _Auxerre_, where every English
traveller will find a decent landlord, _Monsieur Brunier_, _a St.
Nicolas_; good entertainment, and no imposition, and consequently an
inn where no post-boy will drive, if he can avoid it.
II.
If you take your own horses, they must be provided with head-pieces, and
halters; the French stables never furnish any such things; and your
servant must take care that the _Garçon d'Ecurie_ does not buckle them
so tight, that the horses cannot take a full bite, this being a common
practice, to save hay.
III.
If the _Garçon d'Ecurie_ does not bring the halters properly rolled up,
when he puts your horses to, he ought to have nothing given him, because
they are so constantly accustomed to do it, that they cannot forget it,
_but in hopes you may too_.
IV.
Direct your servant, not only to see your horses watered, and corn given
them, but to _stand by_ while they eat it: this is often necessary in
England, and always in France.
V.
If you eat at the _table d'Hote_, the price is fixed, and you cannot be
imposed upon. If you eat in your own chamber, and order your own dinner
or supper, it is as necessary to make a previous bargain with your host
for it, as it would be to bargain with an itinerant Jew for a gold
watch; the _conscience_ and _honour_ of a _French Aubergiste_, and a
travelling Jew, are always to be considered alike; and it is very
remarkable, that the publicans in France, are the only people who
receive strangers with a cool indifference! and where this indifference
is most shewn, there is most reason to be cautious.
VI.
Be careful that your sheets are well aired, otherwise you will find them
often, not only damp, but perfectly wet.--Frenchmen in general do not
consider wet or damp sheets dangerous, I am sure French _Aubergistes_
do not.
VII.
Young men who travel into France with a view of gaining the language,
should always eat at the _table d'Hote_.--There is generally at these
tables, an officer, or a priest, and though there may be none but people
of a middling degree, they will shew every kind of attention and
preference to a stranger.
VIII.
It is necessary to carry your own pillows with you; in some inns they
have them; but in villages, _bourgs_, &c. none are to be had.
IX.
In the wine provinces, at all the _table d'Hotes_, they always provide
the common wine, as we do small beer; wine is never paid for separately,
unless it is of a quality above the _vin du Pays_; and when you call
for better, know the price _before_ you drink it.
X.
When fine cambrick handkerchiefs, &c. are given to be washed, take care
they are not trimmed round two inches narrower, to make borders to
_Madame la Blanchisseuse's_ night caps: this is a little _douceur_ which
they think themselves entitled to, from my Lord _Anglois_, whom they are
sure is _tres riche_, and consequently ought to be plundered by the
poor.
XI.
Whenever you want honest information, get it from a French officer, or a
priest, provided they are on the _wrong_ side of forty; but in general,
avoid all acquaintance with either, on the _right_ side of thirty.
XII.
Where you propose to stay any time, be very cautious with whom you make
an acquaintance, as there are always a number of officious forward
Frenchmen, and English adventurers, ready to offer you their services,
from whom you will find it very difficult to disengage yourself, after
you have found more agreeable company.--Frenchmen of real fashion, are
very circumspect, and will not _fall in love with you_ at first sight;
but a designing knave will exercise every species of flattery, in order
to fix himself upon you for his dinner, or what else he can get, and
will be with you before you are up, and after you are in bed.
XIII.
Wherever there is any cabinet of curiosities, medals, pictures, &c. to
be seen, never make any scruple to send a card, desiring permission to
view them; the request is flattering to a Frenchman, and you will never
be refused; and besides this you will in all probability thereby gain a
valuable acquaintance.--It is generally men of sense and philosophy, who
make such collections, and you will find the collector of them,
perhaps, the most pleasing part of the cabinet.
XIV.
Take it as a maxim, unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians,
that whenever you are invited to a supper at _Paris_, _Lyons_, or any of
the great cities, where a _little_ trifling play commences before
supper, that GREAT PLAY is intended after supper; and that you are the
marked pigeon to be plucked. Always remember _Lord Chesterfield's_
advice to his son: "If you play with men, know with _whom_ you play; if
with women, for _what_:" and don't think yourself the more secure,
because you see at the same table some of your own countrymen, though
they are Lords or Ladies; a _London_ gambler would have no chance in a
_Parisian_ party.
XV.
Dress is an essential and most important consideration with every body
in France. A Frenchman never appears till his hair is well combed and
powdered, however slovenly he may be in other respects.--Not being able
to submit every day to this ceremony, the servant to a gentleman of
fashion at whose house I visited in _Marseilles_, having forgot my name
described me to his master, as the gentleman whose hair was _toujours
mal frise_.--Dress is a foolish thing, says _Lord Chesterfield_; yet it
is a foolish thing not to be well dressed.
XVI.
You cannot dine, or visit after dinner, in an undress frock, or without
a bag to your hair; the hair _en queue_, or a little cape to your coat,
would be considered an unpardonable liberty. Military men have an
advantage above all others in point of dress, in France; a regimental or
military coat carries a man with a _bonne grace_ into all companies,
with or without a bag to his hair; it is of all others the properest
dress for a stranger in France, on many accounts.
XVII.
In France it is not customary to drink to persons at table, nor to drink
wine after dinner: when the dessert is taken away, so is the wine;--an
excellent custom, and worthy of being observed by all nations.
XVIII.
It is wrong to be led into any kind of conversation, but what is
absolutely necessary, with the common, or indeed the middling class of
people in France. They never fail availing themselves of the least
condescension in a stranger, to ask a number of impertinent questions,
and to conclude, you answer them civilly, that they are your
equals.--Sentiment and bashfulness are not to be met with, but among
people of rank in France: to be free and easy, is the etiquette of the
country; and some kinds of that free and easy manner, are highly
offensive to strangers, and particularly to a shy Englishman.
XIX.
When well-bred people flatter strangers, they seldom direct their
flattery to the object they mean to compliment, but to one of their own
country:--As, what a _bonne grace_ the English have, says one to the
other, in a whisper loud enough to be heard by the whole company, who
all give a nod of consent; yet in their hearts they do not love the
English of all other nations, and therefore conclude, that the English
in their hearts do not love them.
XX.
No gentleman, priest, or servant, male or female, ever gives any notice
by knocking before they enter the bed-chamber, or apartment of ladies or
gentlemen.--The post-man opens it, to bring your letters; the capuchin,
to ask alms; and the gentleman to make his visit. There is no privacy,
but by securing your door by a key or a bolt; and when any of the
middling class of people have got possession of your apartment,
particularly of a stranger, it is very difficult to get them out.
XXI.
There is not on earth, perhaps, so curious and inquisitive a people as
the lower class of French: noise seems to be one of their greatest
delights. If a ragged boy does but beat a drum or sound a trumpet, he
brings all who hear it about him, with the utmost speed, and most
impatient curiosity.--As my monkey rode postillion, in a red jacket
laced with silver, I was obliged to make him dismount, when I passed
thro' a town of any size: the people gathered so rapidly about me at
_Moret_, three leagues from _Fontainbleau_, while I stopped only to buy
a loaf, that I verily believe every man, woman, and child, except the
sick and aged, were paying their respects to my little groom; all
infinitely delighted; for none offered the least degree of rudeness.
XXII.
The French never give coffee, tea, or any refreshment, except upon
particular occasions, to their morning or evening visitors.
XXIII.
When the weather is cold, the fire small, and a large company, some
young Frenchman shuts the whole circle from receiving any benefit from
it, by placing himself just before it, laying his sword genteely over
his left knee, and flattering himself, while all the company wish him at
the devil, that the ladies are admiring his legs: when he has gratified
his vanity, or is thoroughly warm, he sits down, or goes, and another
takes his place. I have seen this abominable ill-breeding kept up by a
set of _accomplished_ young fops for two hours together, in exceeding
cold weather. This custom has been transplanted lately into England.
XXIV.
Jealousy is scarce known in France; by the time the first child is
born, an indifference generally takes place: the husband and wife have
their separate acquaintance, and pursue their separate _amusements_,
undisturbed by domestic squabbles: when they meet in the evening, it is
with perfect good humour, and in general, perfect good breeding.--When
an English wife plays truant, she soon becomes abandoned: it is not so
with the French; they preserve appearances and proper decorum, because
they are seldom attached to any particular man. While they are at their
toilet, they receive the visits of their male acquaintance, and he must
be a man of uncommon discernment, who finds out whom it is she prefers
at that time.--In the southern parts of France, the women are in general
very _free_ and _easy_ indeed.
XXV.
It is seldom that virgins are seduced in France; the married women are
the objects of the men of gallantry. The seduction of a young girl is
punished with death; and when they fall, it is generally into the arms
of their confessor,--and that is seldom disclosed. Auricular confession
is big with many mischiefs, as well as much good. Where the penitent and
the confessor happen both to be young, he makes her confess not only all
her sins, but sinful thoughts, and then, I fear he knows more than his
prudence can absolve _decently_, and even when the confessor is old, the
penitent may not be out of danger.
XXVI.
Never ask a Frenchman his age; no question whatever can be more
offensive to him, nor will he ever give you a direct, though he may a
civil answer.--_Lewis_ the XVth was always asking every man about him,
his age. A King may take that liberty, and even then, it always gives
pain.--_Lewis_ the XIVth said to _Comte de Grammont_, "_Je sais votre
age, l'Eveque de Senlis qui a 84 ans, m'a donne pour epoque, que vous
avez etudie ensemble dans la meme classe_." _Cet Eveque, Sire_, (replied
the _Comte,) n'accuse pas juste, car ni lui, ni moi n'avons jamais
Etudie_.--Before I knew how offensive this question was to a Frenchman,
I have had many equivocal answers,--such as, _O! mon dieu_, as old as
the town, or, I thank God, I am in good health, &c.
XXVII.
A modern French author says, that the French language is not capable of
the _jeux de mots_. _Les jeux de mots_, are not, says he, in the genius
_de notre langue, qui est grave, de serieuse_. Perhaps it maybe so; but
the language, and the men, are then so different, that I thought quite
otherwise,--though the following beautiful specimen of the seriousness
of the language ought, in some measure; to justify his remark:
Un seul est frappé, & tous sont delivrés,
Dieu frappe sons fils innocent, pour l'amour
Des hommes coupables, & pardonne aux hommes
Coupables, pour l'amour de son fils innocent.
XXVIII.
All English women, as well as women of other nations, prefer France to
their own country; because in France there is much less restraint on
their actions, than there is, (should I not say, than there _was_?) in
England. All Englishmen, however, who have young and beautiful wives,
should, if they are not indifferent about their conduct, avoid a trip to
_Paris_, &c. tho' it be but for "_a six weeks tour_." She must be good
and wise too, if six weeks does not corrupt her mind and debauch her
morals, and that too by her own sex, which is infinitely the most
dangerous company. A French woman is as great an adept at laughing an
English-woman into all contempt of fidelity to her husband, as married
English-women are in general, in preparing them during their first
pregnancy, for the touch of a man-midwife,--and both from the same
motive; _i.e._ to do, as they have done, and bring all the sex upon a
level.
XXIX.
The French will not allow their language to be so difficult to speak
properly, as the English language; and perhaps they are in the right;
for how often do we meet with Englishmen who speak French perfectly? how
seldom do we hear a Frenchman speak English without betraying his
country by his pronunciation? It is not so with the Spaniards; I
conversed with two Spaniards who were never twenty miles from
_Barcelona_, that spoke English perfectly well.--How, for instance,
shall a Frenchman who cannot pronounce the English, be able to
understand, (great as the difference is) what I mean when I say _the sun
is an hour high_? May he not equally suppose that I said _the sun is in
our eye_?
XXX.
When you make an agreement with an _aubergiste_ where you intend to lie,
take care to include beds, rooms, &c. or he will charge separately for
these articles.
XXXI.
After all, it must be confessed, that _Mons. Dessein's a l'Hotel
d'Angleterre_ at _Calais_, is not only the first inn strangers of
fashion generally go to, but that it is also the first and best inn in
France. _Dessein_ is the decoy-duck, and ought to have a salary from the
French government: he is always sure of a good one from the English.
XXXII.
In frontier or garrison towns, where they have a right to examine your
baggage, a twenty-four _sols_ piece, and assuring the officer that you
are a gentleman, and not a merchant, will carry you through without
delay.
XXXIII.
Those who travel post should, before they set out, put up in parcels the
money for the number of horses they use for one post, two posts, and a
post _et demi_, adding to each parcel, that which is intended to be
given to the driver, or drivers, who are intitled by the King's
ordinance to five _sols_ a post; and if they behave ill, they should be
given no more; when they are civil, ten or twelve _sols_ a post is
sufficient. If these packets are not prepared, and properly marked, the
traveller, especially if he is not well acquainted with the money,
cannot count it out while the horses are changing, from the number of
beggars which surround the carriage and who will take no denial.
XXXIV.
People of rank and condition, either going to, or coming from the
continent, by writing to PETER FECTOR, Esq; at _Dover_, will find him a
man of property and character, on whom they may depend.
LASTLY,
Valetudinarians, or men of a certain age, who travel into the southern
parts of France, Spain, or Italy, should never omit to wear either a
callico or fine flannel waistcoat under their shirts: strange as it may
seem to say so, this precaution is more necessary in the south of
France, than in England. In May last it was so hot at _Lyons_, on the
side of the streets the sun shone on, and so cold on the shady side,
that both were intolerable. The air is much more _vif_ and penetrating
in hot climates, than in cold. A dead dog, thrown into the streets of
Madrid at night, will not have a bit of flesh upon his bones after it
has been exposed to that keen air twenty-four hours.
FINIS.
[List of possible typos or transcriber changes:]
Ltr. 34 para. 2: monnments [monuments?]
Several inscriptions were blurred or missing in this source. Educated
guesses were made in a few cases.
Ltr. 36: This is what was visible to the transcriber:
L DOMIT. DOMITIANI
EX TRIERARCHI CLASS. GERM.
D PECCO****A VALENTINA M
CO*****ENTISSIMA.
Some characters blurred or missing. The full transcription was
entered from other sources.
Some of this looks wrong--e.g. the third line should probably begin P F,
rather than PE--but it matches the text as printed.
Ltr. 52 para. 2: Typo: that [than?]
Ltr. 54 para. 3: Typo: hundry [hungry?]
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