LONDON TO PARIS.
A strong predilection in favour of
river scenery induced me, at the commencement of an
overland journey to Bombay, through France and Egypt,
to take a passage from London in a steamer bound to
Havre. Accordingly, on the 1st of September,
1839, accompanied by some friends, one of whom was
to perform the whole journey with me, I embarked on
board the Phenix, a French vessel, which left
the Tower Stairs at about ten o’clock in the
morning.
The weather was showery, but occasional
gleams of sunshine encouraged us to hope that it might
clear up, and permit us to keep the deck during the
greater part of the voyage, which we expected to perform
in eighteen hours. To the majority of readers,
in these days of universal travelling, it will be
superfluous to describe a steam-boat; but there may
possibly be some quiet people who are still ignorant
of the sort of accommodation which it affords, and
to whom the description will not be unacceptable.
The Phenix is a fine vessel
of its class, five hundred tons burthen, and 160-horse
power. It was handsomely fitted up, and the vases
of flowers upon the chimney-piece in the principal
saloon, and other ornaments scattered about, gave
to the whole a gay appearance, as if the party assembled
had been wholly bent upon pleasure. The ladies’
cabin was divided by a staircase; but there were what,
in a sort of mockery, are called “state-cabins”
opening into that appropriated to the general use,
around which were sofas, and bed-places upon a sort
of shelf above, for the accommodation of the gentlemen.
This apartment was handsomely carpeted, and otherwise
well furnished; the steward and his assistant having
the appearance of the better class of waiters belonging
to a well-frequented hotel: all the servants were
English, and the whole afforded a most delightful
contrast to the sort of packets which many of the
party on board were quite old enough to remember.
The passengers were numerous, and
apparently inclined to make themselves agreeable to
each other; one, an American, objected to the sight
of a footman, who came upon the quarter-deck for a
few minutes, observing that such a thing would not
be permitted in his country.
As soon as the vessel got under weigh,
preparations were made for breakfast, which was served,
a la fourchette, in very excellent style, the
cookery being a happy combination of the French and
English modes. At the conclusion of the repast,
we repaired to the deck, all being anxious to see
the British Queen, which was getting her steam
up, at Gravesend. We were alongside this superb
vessel for a few minutes, putting some persons on
board who had come down the river in the Phenix
for the purpose of paying it a visit; and taking advantage
of a favourable breeze, we hoisted a sail, and went
along at a rate which gave us hope of a speedy arrival
at Havre.
After passing the Nore, however, our
progress was impeded; and at length, when off Margate,
we were obliged to lie-to, in order to wait for the
turn of the tide: the wind blowing so strongly
as to render it questionable whether we could get
round the Foreland. The sun was shining on the
buildings at Margate, and the bells knolling for evening
service; affording a home-scene of comfort and tranquillity
which it was agreeable to carry abroad as one of the
last reminiscences of England.
In about three hours, we got the steam
up again, and saw the British Queen in the
distance, still lying to, and apparently, notwithstanding
her prodigious power, unable to get down the Channel.
Dinner was served while the Phenix
lay off Margate; but it was thinly attended, the motion
of the vessel having sent many persons to their cabins,
while others were totally deprived of all appetite.
An elderly gentleman, who sate upon my left hand,
complained exceedingly of his inability to partake
of the good things before him; and one or two left
the table in despair. Again we sought the deck,
and saw the sun sink behind an ominous mass of clouds;
the sky, however, cleared, and the stars came out,
reviving our spirits with hopes of a fine night.
Unfortunately, soon after nine o’clock, a heavy
squall obliged us to go below, and one of my female
friends and myself took possession of a state cabin,
and prepared to seek repose.
It was my first voyage on board a
steamer, and though the tremulous motion and the stamping
of the engine are anything but agreeable, I prefer
it to the violent rolling and pitching of a sailing
vessel. We were certainly not nearly so much
knocked about; the vases of flowers were taken off
the mantel-piece, and placed upon the floor, but beyond
this there were no precautions taken to prevent the
movables from getting adrift; every thing remained
quiet upon the tables, a circumstance which could
not have happened in so heavy a sea in any vessel
not steadied by the apparatus carried by a steamer.
The Phenix laboured heavily
through the water; a torrent of rain soon cleared
the deck of all the passengers, and the melancholy
voices calling for the steward showed the miserable
plight to which the male portion of the party was
reduced. Daylight appeared without giving hope
of better weather; and it was not until the vessel
had reached the pier at Havre, which it did not make
until after three o’clock P.M. on Monday, that
the passengers were able to re-assemble. Many
had not tasted food since their embarkation, and none
had been able to take breakfast on the morning of
their arrival.
And here, for the benefit of future
travellers, it may not be amiss to say, that a small
medicine-chest, which had been packed in a carpet-bag,
was detained at the custom-house; and that the following
day we experienced some difficulty in getting it passed,
being told that it was contraband; indeed, but for
an idea that the whole party were going on to Bombay,
and would require the drugs for their own consumption,
we should not have succeeded in rescuing it from the
hands of the Philistines. The day was too far
advanced to admit of our getting the remainder of
the baggage examined, a mischance which detained us
a day at Havre, the steamer to Rouen starting at four
o’clock in the morning.
The weather was too unpropitious to
admit of our seeing much of the environs of the town.
Like all English travellers, we walked about as much
as we could, peeped into the churches, made purchases
of things we wanted and things we did not want, and
got some of our gold converted into French money.
We met and greeted several of our fellow-passengers,
for though little conversation, in consequence of
the inclemency of the weather, had taken place on board
the Phenix, we all seemed to congratulate each
other upon our escape from the horrors of the voyage.
The gale increased rather than abated,
and we now began to entertain fears of another day’s
detention at Havre, the steamer from Rouen not having
arrived; and though we were very comfortably lodged,
and found the town superior to the expectations we
had formed of a sea-port of no very great consideration,
we had no desire to spend more time in it than we
could help.
Havre appears to carry on a considerable
commerce with India, several shops being wholly devoted
to the sale of the productions of the East, while
the number of parrots and monkeys to be seen show that
the intercourse must be very extensive. The shops
had a very English air about them, and though the
houses were taller, and rather more dilapidated in
their appearance, than they are usually found at home,
they reminded us of familiar scenes. Hamlet
was announced for the evening’s performance
at the theatre, and but for the novelty of dining
at a table d’hote, we might have fancied
ourselves still in England.
The Hotel de l’Europe is the
best in Havre; there are several others very respectable,
and more picturesque, from the ancient style of the
building: all were full, intercourse with Havre
being on the increase. English carriages were
arriving every hour; the steamer from Southampton
brought an immense number of passengers, and travellers
seemed to flock in from every part of the world.
We were amused by seeing a well-dressed and well-mannered
Russian lady, at the table d’hote, fill
her plate half-full of oil, and just dip the salad
into it.
It was the first time that one of
my friends and myself had ever visited France, and
we endeavoured as much as possible to accommodate
ourselves to the manners of a strange country.
We could not, however, entirely give up our English
habits, and ordered tea in the evening in our private
apartments: the French are by this time well accustomed
to requisitions of this nature, and few places are
now unsupplied with a tea-pot.
On Tuesday morning, we were up at
four o’clock, in order to embark on board the
steamer for Rouen. It rained heavily, and any
hopes, the interposition of the high houses gave,
that the wind had abated, were destroyed upon turning
the first angle, and after a hasty glance at the threatening
sky and surging waters, we went below, intending, if
possible, to remain there until the weather should
clear.
Passengers now came flocking in; many
respectable French families, with their children and
neatly dressed bonnes, were of the party; but
the young folk speedily becoming very sick, we sought
the deck, and in spite of the rain, which still continued
to fall, established ourselves as well as we were
able.
Upon entering the river, the turbulence
of the water subsided a little, and a gleam of sunshine,
the first that smiled upon us, shewed a chateau and
town nestling in the midst of gardens and orchards,
and spreading down to the water’s edge.
The banks on either side were picturesque, presenting
the most pleasing pictures of rural enjoyment, and
conveying an idea of comfort which we had not previously
associated with the smaller classes of country residences
in France. The houses were cleanly on the outside,
at least, and neither paint nor white-wash was spared
in their decoration; the surrounding parterres
were gay with flowers, amid which, as with us, dahlias
made a very conspicuous appearance. They were
not, we thought, quite so large and luxuriant as those
which we see in our cottage-gardens at home; and this
remark we found afterwards would apply to the more
carefully tended plants in the pleasure-grounds of
palaces. We are probably more skilful in the
adaptation of soil to foreign importations, and therefore
succeed in producing a finer flower.
In my baggage I had brought a large
basket-full of the roots of our English hearts-ease,
as a present to a French gentleman, who had expressed
a wish, in the early part of the summer, to take some
with him from London, he having been much delighted
with the superior beauty of those which he had seen
in our English gardens; they were not then in a fit
state for transplanting, and having, through the kindness
of the secretary of the Royal Botanic Society, been
enabled to carry away an extensive and choice collection
of roots, I indulge a hope that I may be instrumental
in spreading the finest varieties of this pretty flower
throughout France.
We lost, of course, many scenes of
beauty and interest, in consequence of the inclemency
of the weather. Just as we arrived at a most
beautiful place, a church of elegant architecture rising
in the centre, with gay-looking villas clustered round,
the gathering clouds united over our devoted heads,
the rain, descending in a cataract, beat down the
smoke to the very decks, so that we all looked and
felt as if we had been up the chimney, and the whole
lovely scene was lost to us in a moment. The
rain continued for about an hour after this, and then
the sky began to clear.
We reached Rouen at about half-past
twelve. The approach is very fine, and the city
makes an imposing appearance from the river. We
had been recommended to the Hotel d’Angleterre,
which is the best, but were so strongly tempted to
rush into the hotel immediately opposite, that, trusting
to its exterior, we hastened to house ourselves, and
found no reason to repent our choice. We were
shown into very handsome apartments, and found the
staircases, lobbies, and ante-chambers as clean as
we could desire. A change of attire and breakfast
enabled us to sally forth to see as much of the town
and its neighbourhood as our time would admit.
The modern portion of Rouen is extremely
handsome; the quay being lined with a series of lofty
stone mansions, built in the style which is now beginning
to be adopted in London. The public buildings
are particularly fine, and there are two splendid
bridges, one of stone, and one upon the suspension
principle. Very extensive improvements are going
on, and it seems as if, in the course of a very few
years, the worst portions of the town will be replaced
by new and elegant erections. Meantime, imagination
can scarcely afford more than a faint idea of the
horrors of the narrow, dirty streets, flanked on either
side by lofty squalid houses, in the very last stage
of dilapidation.
The cathedral stands in a small square,
or market-place, where the houses, though somewhat
better than their neighbours in the lanes, have a
very miserable appearance; they make a striking picture,
but the reality sadly detracts from the pleasure which
the eye would otherwise take in surveying the fine
old church, with which, through the medium of engravings,
it has been long familiar. Many workmen are at
present employed in repairing the damage which time
has inflicted upon this ancient edifice.
The interior, though striking from
its vastness, is at first rather disappointing, its
splendid windows of stained glass being the most prominent
of its ornaments. In pacing the long aisles, and
pausing before the small chapels, the scene grows
upon the mind, and the monuments, though comparatively
few, are very interesting. An effigy of Richard
Coeur de Lion, lately discovered while looking for
the fiery monarch’s heart, which was buried
in Rouen, is shown as one of the chief curiosities
of the place.
The porter of the cathedral inhabited
an extremely small dwelling, built up against the
wall, and surrounded by high, dark buildings; but
we were pleased to see that he had cheered this dismal
place of abode by a gay parterre, several rich-looking
flowers occupying pots beneath his windows.
Our next pilgrimage was to the statue
of Joan of Arc, which we approached through narrow
streets, so dirty from the late heavy rains, as to
be scarcely passable. We had, as we might have
expected, little to reward us, except the associations
connected with the Maid of Orleans, and her cruel
persecutors. The spot had been to me, from my
earliest years, one which I had felt a wish to visit,
my researches, while writing the Memoirs of the Rival
Houses of York and Lancaster, materially increasing
the interest which an earlier perusal of the history
of England and France had created, concerning scenes
trodden by the brave, the great, and the good.
However mistaken might have been their notions, however
impolitic their actions, we cannot contemplate the
characters of the Paladins, who have made Rouen
famous, without feelings of respect. The murder
of Joan of Arc formed the sole blot on the escutcheon
of John Duke of Bedford, and the faults and vices
of his companions in arms were the offspring of the
times in which they lived.
We were surprised by the excellence
of the shops, even in the most dilapidated parts of
the city of Rouen, the windows in every direction
exhibiting a gay assemblage of goods of all descriptions,
while the confectioners were little, if at all, inferior
to those of Paris. One small square in particular,
in which a market was held, was very striking, from
the contrast between the valuable products sold, and
the houses which contained them. Seven or eight
stories in height, weather-stained, and dilapidated,
the lower floors exhibited handsome porcelain and
other costly articles, which gave an impression of
wealth in the owners, that astonished those amongst
our party who were strangers to the country.
Our hearts absolutely sunk within us as we thought
of the wretchedness of the interiors, the misery of
being obliged to inhabit any one of the numerous suites
of apartments rising tier above tier, and from which
it would be absolutely impossible to banish vermin
of every description.
The French appear certainly to be
beginning to study home comforts, all the modern houses
being built upon very commodious plans; still the
middling classes, in the towns at least, are miserably
lodged, in comparison with the same grades in England,
families of apparently great respectability inhabiting
places so desolate as to strike one with horror.
After picking our way through the
least objectionable of the streets in the heart of
the city, we were glad to escape into the open air,
and solace ourselves with the views presented on the
neighbouring heights. Nothing can be finer than
the landscapes round Rouen; every necessary of life
appears to be cheap and plentiful, and persons desirous
of a quiet and economical residence abroad might spend
their time very happily in the outskirts of this picturesque
city.
We found the guests at the table-d’hote
chiefly English, travellers like ourselves, and some
of our party recognised London acquaintance among
those who, upon hearing our intention to proceed the
following day up the Seine to Paris, recommended the
boat by which they had arrived the Etoile.
Again we were summoned at four o’clock
in the morning, and wended our way, along the banks
of the river, to the starting-place, which was just
beyond the second bridge. The one large boat,
which conveyed passengers from Havre, was here exchanged
for two smaller, better suited to the state of the
river. We were taught to expect rather a large
party, as we had understood that forty persons were
going from our hotel.
The bell of the Dorade, the
opposition vessel, was sounding its tocsin to summon
passengers on board, while ours was altogether mute.
Presently, through the grey mist of the morning, we
observed parties flocking down to the place of embarkation,
who, somewhat to our surprise, all entered the other
vessel. A large boat in the centre, in which
the baggage is deposited, was speedily filled, carpet
bags being piled upon carpet bags, until a goodly
pyramid arose, which the rising sun touched with every
colour of the prism. The decks of the Dorade
were now crowded with passengers, while two respectable-looking
young women, in addition to ourselves, formed the
whole of our company.
Our bell now gave out a few faint
sounds, as if rather in compliance with the usual
forms observed, than from any hope that its warning
voice would be heeded; and getting up our steam, we
took the lead gallantly, as if determined to leave
the heavier boat behind. Presently, however,
the Dorade passed us with all her gay company,
and speeding swiftly on her way, would have been out
of sight in a few minutes, but for the windings of
the river, which showed us her smoke like a pennon
in the distance. We were now left alone in our
glory, and felt assured of what we had more than suspected
before, namely, that we had got into the wrong boat.
We then, though rather too late, inquired the cause
of the extraordinary disproportion of the passengers,
and were told that the Etoile was the favourite
boat going down the river, while the Dorade
had it hollow in going up.
We now began to consider the circumstances
of the case, and the chances of our not arriving time
enough at the place of debarkation to get on to Paris
by the rail-road that night. Agreeing that the
detention would not be of the least consequence, that
we should enjoy having the whole boat to ourselves,
and the slow method of travelling, which would enable
us the better to contemplate the beauties of the river,
we made up our minds to a day of great enjoyment.
The weather was fine, a cool breeze allaying the heat
of the sun, which shone upon us occasionally through
clouds too high to afford any apprehension of rain.
The boat was very elegantly fitted
up below, the ladies’ cabin, in particular,
being splendidly furnished. Above, the choice
of seats proved very acceptable, since, in consequence
of a new-fangled apparatus, we had four chimnies,
whence sparks escaped in a constant shower, threatening
destruction to any garment that might be exposed to
them. Seated, therefore, at the prow, beyond the
reach of this fiery shower, after partaking of an
excellent breakfast, there being a first-rate restaurateur
on board, we began to converse with a very intelligent
boatman, who amused us with the legends of the river
and accounts of the different places which we passed.
At Blossville-Bon-Secours there
is an extremely steep hill, with a chapel, dedicated
to the Virgin, at the summit; the holy edifice is,
upon ordinary occasions, approached by a circuitous
winding road, but at Easter and other great festivals,
thousands of persons flock from all parts, for the
purpose of making a pilgrimage up the steepest portion
of the ascent, in order to fulfil vows previously made,
and to pay their homage to the holy mother of God.
There was a waggery in our friend’s eye, as
he described the sufferings of the devout upon these
occasions, which indicated an opinion that, however
meritorious the act, and however efficacious in shortening
the path to heaven, he himself entertained no desire
to try it. This man had seen something of the
world, his maritime occupation having formerly led
him to distant places; he had been a sailor all his
life, was well acquainted with Marseilles, which he
described with great enthusiasm, and gave us to understand
that, having had a good offer elsewhere, this would
be one of his last voyages in the Etoile, since
he worked hard in it, without getting any credit.
At the town of Elboeuf, we picked
up another passenger; a country woman, with a basket
or two, and a high Normandy cap, had come on board
at one of the villages; and with this small reinforcement
we proceeded, halting occasionally to mend some damage
in the engine, and putting up a sail whenever we could
take advantage of the breeze.
Arriving at La Roquelle, our cicerone
pointed out to us the ruined walls of what once had
been a very splendid chateau; its former owner being
an inveterate gamester, having lost large sums of money,
at length staked the chateau to an Englishman, who
won it. Upon arriving to take possession, he
was disappointed to find that he had only gained the
chateau, and that the large estate attached to it was
not in the bond. Being unable to keep it up without
the surrounding property, he determined that no other
person should enjoy it, and therefore, greatly to
the annoyance of the people in the neighbourhood,
he pulled it down. The present proprietor now
lives in an adjacent farm-house, and the story, whether
true or false, tells greatly to the prejudice of the
English, and our friend, in particular, spoke of it
as a most barbarous act.
We found the chateaux on the banks
of the Seine very numerous; many were of great magnitude,
and flanked by magnificent woods, the greater number
being clipped into the appearance of walls, and cut
out into long avenues and arcades, intersecting each
other at right angles, in the very worst taste, according
to the English idea of landscape-gardening. There
was something, however, extremely grand and imposing
in this formal style, and we were at least pleased
with the novelty which it afforded.
At Andelys, perched upon a conical
hill, are the picturesque remains of the chateau Gaillard,
which was built by Richard Coeur de Lion, and must
formerly have been of very great extent, its walls
reaching down to the river’s brink. We
were told that the chateau furnished stabling for
a thousand horses, and that there was a subterranean
passage which led to the great Andelys. This
passage is now undergoing a partial clearing, for
the purpose of increasing the interest of the place,
by exhibiting it to strangers who may visit the neighbourhood.
Our informant proceeded to say, that during several
years, an old witch inhabited the ruins, who was at
once the oracle and the terror of the neighbourhood.
The sketch-books of the party were
here placed in requisition, and though the celerity
with which a steamer strides through the water is
not very favourable to the artist, a better idea of
the scene was given than that which we found in the
Guide Book. The banks of the Seine present a
succession of pictures, all well worthy of the pencil,
and those who are fond of the picturesque, and who
have time at their disposal, will find the voyage
up the river replete with the most interesting materials.
The first sight of the vineyards,
which began to spread themselves up the steep sides
of the hills, delighted us all; and our prospects now
began to be diversified with rock, which in a thousand
fantastic forms showed itself along the heights.
The country seemed thickly spread with villages, many
at the edge of the water, others receding into winding
valleys, and all boasting some peculiar beauty.
Whether upon a nearer approach they would have been
equally pleasing, it is not possible to say; but,
from our position, we saw nothing to offend the eye,
either in the cottages or the people; some of the very
humblest of the dwellings boasted their little gardens,
now gay with sun-flowers and dahlias, while the better
sort, with their bright panes of glass, and clean
muslin window-curtains, looked as if they would afford
very desirable homes.
A present of a bottle of wine made
our boatmen very happy. They produced one of
those huge masses of bread, which seems the principal
food of the lower classes, and sate down to their meal
with great content. Our dinner, which we had
ordered rather early, was delayed by the arrival of
the boat at Vernon, where we were obliged, according
to the French phrase, to “mount the bridge.”
It was built, agreeably to the old mode of construction,
with a mill in the centre, and the difficulty, and
even danger, of getting through the arch, could not
be called inconsiderable. Letting off the steam,
we were hauled up by persons stationed for the purpose;
and just as we got through, passed the steamers going
down to Rouen, the partners of the vessels which went
up in the morning; both were full, our star
being the only unlucky one. However, what might
have been a hardship to many others was none to us,
it being scarcely possible to imagine any thing more
delightful than a voyage which, though comparatively
slow, was the reverse of tedious, and in which we
could discourse unrestrainedly, and occupy any part
of the vessel most agreeable to ourselves. We
picked up a very respectable man and his daughter,
an interesting little girl, who spoke English very
tolerably, and seemed delighted to meet with English
ladies; and also an exquisite, dressed in the first
style of the Parisian mode, but of him we saw little,
he being wholly occupied with himself.
The steam-company are entering into
an arrangement at Vernon for the construction of a
lock similar to one already formed at Pont-de-l’Arche,
which we had passed through in the morning, and which
will obviate the inconvenience and difficulty of the
present mode of navigating the river.
The next place of interest to which
we came was Rosny, a village famous in the pages of
history as the residence of the great and good, the
friend and minister of Henry IV., the virtuous Sully.
Our boatmen, who were not great antiquaries, said
nothing about the early occupants of the chateau,
exerting all their eloquence in praise of a later
resident the Duchesse de Berri.
This lady rendered herself extremely popular in the
vicinity, living in a style of princely splendour,
and devoting her time to acts of munificence.
Every year she portioned off a bride, giving a dowry
to some respectable young lady of the neighbourhood,
while to the poor she was a liberal and untiring benefactress.
The boatmen blessed her as they passed, for to all
she sent wine, and upon fête-days gave banquets to
the rural population, to whom her remembrance will
be ever dear. Our informants pointed out a small
chapel, which they described as being very beautiful,
which she had built as a depository for her husband’s
heart; this precious relic she carried away with her
when she left Rosny, which she quitted with the regrets
of every human being in the neighbourhood.
The chateau has been purchased by
an English banker, but is now uninhabited: there
was a report of its being about to be pulled down.
It is a large, heavy building, not distinguished by
any architectural beauty, yet having an imposing air,
from its extent and solidity. It is surrounded
by fine woods and pleasure-grounds, laid out in the
formal style, which is still the characteristic of
French landscape-gardening. Nothing can be more
beautiful than the surrounding scenery, the winding
river with its vineyards hanging in terraces from
the opposite heights, the village reposing beneath
sun-lit hills, while corn-fields, pasture-land, and
cattle grazing, convey the most pleasing ideas of
the comfort of those who dwell upon this luxuriant
soil.
The city of Mantes now appeared
in the distance, and as we approached it, our guides
pointed out, on the opposite heights of Gassicourt,
a hermitage and Calvary, which had formerly proved
a great source of profit. An ascetic, of great
pretensions to sanctity, took up his abode many years
ago in this retreat, carrying on a thriving trade,
every boat that passed contributing twopence, for which
consideration the hermit rung a bell, to announce
their arrival at the bridge of Mantes, giving
notice to the town, in order to facilitate the transfer
of baggage or passengers. This tax or tribute
the hermit was not himself at the trouble of collecting,
it being scrupulously despatched to him by the donors,
who would have deemed it sinful to deprive the holy
man of what they considered his just due.
The sort of piety, which once supported
so great a multitude of religious mendicants, is greatly
on the decline in France. A few crosses on the
bridges and heights, and the dresses of the priesthood
whom we encountered in the streets, were the only exterior
signs of Roman Catholicism which we had yet seen.
Our boatmen spoke with great respect of the Sisters
of Charity, pointing out a convent which they inhabited,
and told us that during illness they had themselves
been greatly indebted to the care and attention of
these benevolent women.
It was now growing dark, and we very
narrowly escaped a serious accident in passing the
bridge of Meulan, the boat coming into contact with
one of the piers; fortunately, the danger was espied
in time. There was now not the slightest chance
of reaching Paris before the following morning; but
we regretted nothing except the want of light, the
gathering clouds rendering it impossible to see any
thing of the scenery, which, we were told, increased
in beauty at every mile. We consoled ourselves,
however, with tea and whist in the cabin; in fact,
we played with great perseverance throughout the whole
of our journey, the spirits of the party never flagging
for a single instant.
We found a good hotel at the landing-place,
at which we arrived at a very late hour, and starting
the next morning by the early train to Paris, passed
by the rail-road through an extremely interesting
country, leaving St. Germain-en-Laye behind, and tracking
the windings of the Seine, now too shallow to admit
of the navigation of boats of any burthen.
The construction of this rail-road
was attended with considerable difficulty and great
expense, on account of its being impeded by the works
at Marli, for the supply of water to Versailles.
The building of the bridges over the Seine, which
it crosses three times, was also very costly.
The carriages of the first class are very inferior
to those of the same description upon the rail-roads
in England, but they are sufficiently comfortable
for so short a distance. We were set down at
the barrier of Clichi, an inconvenient distance from
the best part of Paris. Here we had to undergo
a second inspection of our baggage, and I became somewhat
alarmed for the fate of my medicine-chest. We
had taken nothing else with as that could be seizable,
and this was speedily perceived by the officials,
who merely went through the form of an examination.
The divisions in one of my portmanteaus
had excited some suspicion at Havre, one of the men
fancying that he had made a grand discovery, when
he pronounced it to have a false bottom. We explained
the method of opening it to his satisfaction, and
afterwards, in overhauling my bonnet-box, he expressed
great regret at the derangement of the millinery,
which certainly sustained some damage from his rough
handling. Altogether, we had not to complain of
any want of civility on the part of the custom-house
officers; but travellers who take the overland route
to India, through France, will do well to despatch
all their heavy baggage by sea, nothing being more
inconvenient than a multitude of boxes. I had
reduced all my packages to four, namely, two portmanteaus,
a bonnet-box, and a leather bag, which latter contained
the medicine-chest, a kettle and lamp, lucifer-matches,
&c; my bonnet-box was divided into two compartments,
one of which contained my writing-case and a looking-glass;
for as I merely intended to travel through a portion
of our British possessions in India, and to return
after the October monsoon of 1840, I wished to carry
every thing absolutely necessary for my comfort about
with we.
Another annoyance sustained by persons
who take the route through France is, the trouble
respecting their passports, which must be ready at
all times when called upon for examination, and may
be the cause of detention, if the proper forms are
not scrupulously gone through. We were not certain
whether it would be necessary to present ourselves
in person at the Bureau des Passeports,
Quai des Orfèvres, in Paris, after
having sent them to the British embassy; but we thought
it better to avoid all danger of delay, and therefore
drove to a quarter interesting on account of its being
a place of some importance as the original portion
of Paris, and situated on the island. In this
neighbourhood there are also the famous Hotel Dieu
and Notre Dame, to both of which places we paid a
visit, looking en passant at the Morgue.
The gentleman who accompanied us entered a building,
with whose melancholy celebrity all are acquainted;
but though it did not at that precise moment contain
a corpse, the report did not induce us to follow his
example: a circumstance which we afterwards regretted.
It may be necessary to say, that at other places we
sent our passports to the Hotel de Ville; but at Paris
there is a different arrangement.
Although the journey up the Seine
from Havre proved very delightful to me, I do not
recommend it to others, especially those to whom time
is of importance. There is always danger of detention,
and the length of the sea-voyage, especially from
London, may be productive of serious inconvenience.
For seeing the country, it is certainly preferable
to the diligence, and my experience will teach those
who come after me to inquire into the character of
the steam-boat before they enter it.