Vacation Rambles and Thought, etc

Front matter

COMPRISING THK _&et0.lErtum_i of Cljree Continental CourS. IN THE VACATIONS of 1841, 1842, and 1843. By T. N. TALFOURD, D.C.L. SERGEANT- AT-L&W. " All in the broad highway of the world. " — Wordsworth. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : EDWARD MOXON, DOVER STREET. MDCCCXl-V. LONDON : BRADBURY AND EVANS, PAINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. DEDICATORY EPISTLE TO ROBERT VAUGHAN RICHARDS, Esq. ONE OF HER MA.ESTY*S COUNSEL. My dear Richards, Among the inducements which tempt me to publish the Recollections of my Continental Excursions, with some thoughts suggested during their progress, one of the most fascinating is the desire of offering to you a token of my imperish able sense of the comfort I have derived from your friendship during the labours of many years which we have endured together, and of my earnest wish that, in your retirement from the toils, of which these were a portion, you may enjoy all the VI DEDICATION. blessings which can sweeten and dignify this life's repose.

As I have often been strengthened for the performance of arduous professional duty by your council and encouragement, I would, on the eve of presenting my holiday reminiscences to the world, linger for a few moments in the old shelter of your society, and take courage by addressing to your partial ears the few sentences in which I may explain the circumstances, and confess the motives of my venture ; as if I could fancy that you alone would judge them. To the first part of these " Recollections," you are not a stranger. Having, at the distance of some months from the completion of the first tour, indulged myself by gathering up the fragments of the precious hours engaged in its progress, only for my own gratification, and that of my children, I scarcely know how I was induced to print them, except from that love of seeing one's effusions in fair print rather than in ugly manuscript, which Lord Byron has so pleasantly confessed, and which derives additional force when the charm of print DEDICATION.

VII is felt tlirough the beautiful type of Messrs. Bradbury and Evans. The "Recollections of a First Visit to the Alps" were, therefore, printed merely for private distribution, with a domestic Dedication, which you will feel to be sacred, and which, therefore, I have reprinted now, although it obliges me to except the first Part out of my offer ing to you, and to limit my present Dedication to the two last tours, — of the truth of some scenes of which I might summon you as a witness. This little unpublished book received so cordial a welcome from those who perused it, that I was flattered into believing that it would be a pity if the recol lections of the two succeeding vacations should be left to gbde away without any other vestiges by which I might myself recover them, than the slight notes I had made — scarcely legible by my self, and capable of interpretation by no one else — during their rapid but delicious journeys.

Chapter I. Journey From London To Paris

FAGS Passports — Line of the Southampton Railway — Southampton — Netley Abbey — Voyage from Southampton to Havre — Havre — The Seine to Rouen — Rouen — The Seine to St. Germain — Arrival at Paris .......... 1

Chapter II. Paris

First Glimpse of Paris— First Stroll iu Paris — The Theatre Porte St. Martin — Representation of " Ruy Bias " — The Louvre — Old Paris — Notre Dame — Napoleon's Tomb — The Theatre Franqais — Representation of " Cinna " — Versailles — The Theatre Palais- Royal — View from the Column in the Place Vendome — The Pirate Shops— French Childhood 31

Chapter III. Journey From Paris To Geneva

Departure from Paris — Journey by Diligence to Dijon — Delay at Dijon — The Jura — Geneva ....... CONTENTS. s V.I

Chapter IV. Journey From Geneva To Chamouni

Departure from Geneva — Why it derives so little interest from its Great Names, Calvin, Voltaire, Rousseau — Bonneville — Cluses — Fall of Nant d'Arpenaz — First Great View of Mont Blanc — St. Martin — Journey by Char-a-banc to Chamouni . . 85

1842.

Chapter I. Journey From London To Cologne

PAGE Holiday Sensations — Voyage down the Thames — Arrival at Antwerp — High Mass in the Cathedral — Joyous Dinner at Antwerp — Railway Journey to Liege — Description of Liege at Night and in the Morning — Journey by Diligence to Aix-la-Chapelle — An Early Walk at Aix — Journey by Railway to Cologne and the Rhine 165

Chapter II. Journey From Cologne To Zurich

Voyage to Coblentz — Glance at North Wales — Two Evening Strolls at Coblentz — Highway of the Rhine — Voyage to Mannheim — Perusal of Carlyle on " Hero Worship " — Thoughts on Carlyle's Theory — Journey to Carlsruhe in search of an Austrian vise — Detention at Carlsruhe — Pirate Shops — The Opera — Journey to Schaffhausen — Adventure at Schaffhausen — Evening Visit to the Rhine Fall — Journey to Zurich — A generous Boatman on the Lake of Zurich 193

Chapter III. Journey From Zurich, Across The Splugen, To Chiavenna

Journey from Zurich to Coire by the Lakes of Zurich and Wallenstadt — First Perusal of Tennyson's Poems — Lake of Wallenstadt — Reichenau — The Valley of Domleschg — Thusis — The Via Mala — Hotel and ruined Burgh at Splugen — Passage of the Splugen to Campo Dolc.no — Chiavenna — The Buried Town — View from the Hotel at Chiavenna RECOLLECTIONS OF A FIRST VISIT TO THE ALPS. To HER WHOSE IMAGE ENDEARS THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A DELIGHTFUL TOUR, AS IT CHEERS AND GRACES THE JOURNEY OF LIFE, THESE " TRIVIAL FOND RECORDS " ARE INSCRIBED, i>v A GRATEFUL AND ADMIRING HUSBAND. RECOLLECTIONS OF A FIRST VISIT TO THE ALPS.

Chapter I. Journey From London To Paris

Passports — Line of the Southampton Railway — Southampton — Netley Abbey — Voyage from Southampton to Havre — Havre — The Seine to Rouen — Rouen — The Seine to St. Germain — Arrival at Paris. QN Saturday, 14th August, We — i. e. my wife, our eldest son, our niece, M E , and myself, started from home on a Tour of which Switzerland and its Alps were the great and final objects. We had taken one ravishing glimpse of Switzerland in the preceding autumn, in an ex cursion to the great Rhine-fad, whence we were obliged to return, leaving the Alps unvisited and unseen, or seen at such distances as rendered it doubtful whether they were mountains or clouds. This year we resolved to avad ourselves of the b2 PASSPORTS. " extra week" which royal events seldom fad to add to the summer holidays of the Eton boys — among whose happy number ours was one — and which thus, with the unspent residue, gave to father and son about a month of cotemporary vacation — to penetrate to the midst of those icy sublimities, the knowledge of which I anticipated almost as the opening of a new sense, or the entrance to a new world.

The morning was chilly and wet, but it brightened into a charming day. At ten o'clock we left home with httle luggage, as the world accounts luggage, but even more than we required, and a Foreign-office passport, which we were induced to beheve would prove a talisman against all the impertinences of Continental police ; aU the exactions of commissionaires ; and all the delays interposed by too fond landlords solicitous to turn griefs into commodities. Alas ! its virtues were all in speculation; — and we soon found ourselves in no better condition than travellers who had not obtained so flattering a recommendation to the care of foreign powers. Surely the system of passports is whoUy unworthy of civilised, peaceful Europe in the nineteenth century ! If any security could be attained by it against the admission of dangerous persons, or if any fees were really derived from it, some excuse PASSPORTS. might be found for its continuance, but it is en tirely provoking, because it does no one any good.

The most insinuating swindler, or the most quix otic regicide, would have no difficidty in obtaining passports for any State in Europe; the visa is only idem per idem; — so that it is difficult to imagine any safeguard which the system confers on the potentates who sustain it. Nor, generaUy speaking, are any solid benefits conferred on any one in the shape of fees * — for though money is often exacted from the traveUer, fevered with im patience to pass onward or homeward, to expedite the dehvery of his frad voucher, it generally goes into the pocket of the lounger and thief of the inn, and rarely even attains the desk of a poor clerk in the office whence the paper comes. When the exaction of the state is reaUy pecuniary, it may be submitted to with less vexation — it is sensible though shabby.

Thus, when that miserable sovereign of a glorious realm, the king of Sardinia, causes it to be distinctly understood that you must pay his Consul four francs for permis sion to go from Geneva to Chamouni, you pay the " Royal Merchant" without grudging. He has Mont Blanc to exhibit; you cannot see it with out his Ucence — and you pay the showman with out any feeling that you are imposed on. If it is RAILWAY PICTURES. true that 3,000 persons annually visit Chamouni, he, or his Consul, must make a nice Uttle income by the impost; and so far so good. But when you are detained, as we were last year at Stras bourg a whole day, because the passport could not be obtained from the office tdi nine o'clock, and the steam-boat started at eight, with the painful doubt whether our courteous landlord had not invented the difficidty to ensure the protracted honour of our company — and with the certainty that no officer ever looked at the passport at all — the entire suavity of temper which Mr. Murray recommends to aU traveUers, is in some danger of being broken.

In truth, the whole is a vexatious farce — very foolish in the States, which profit by Enghsh gold — and very annoying to the travel lers who are eager to scatter it ! But I am anticipating our misfortunes ; at pre sent we are on Enghsh ground; and veiy beautiful it is — for we are gliding along the Southamp ton Railway in a first-class carriage, with a window, that is, a thousand lovely little pictures, at the command of each. Exactly at eleven o'clock we bounded from the station at VauxhaU — exactly at two we were discharged in view of the Southamp ton Water, and the low but lovely accompaniments in which it is set as a mirror. A great part of this RAILWAY PICTURES. line dazzles with a succession of charming pictures. First there are the swelling hdlocks and wiUow embedded vdlas of Wandsworth ; then trim meadows Ut up by a lucid winding stream, losing itsetf on either side of the terraced way amidst clumps of greenest trees ; then a long course of heaths crowned with airy hdls, and aU blushing, along the border of the way, with the sweet pink heather, redolent of Scotland, which daintily loses itseU among the scattered groves ; and when the coun try grows barren, and the railroad passes between banks of chalk and gravel, its tedium is dispeUed by the view of Basingstoke on one side, deep in the vaUey, and by the ruin of the Holy Ghost Chapel on the other, close to the Station.

The lower view has httle to interest the mass of pas sengers ; but to me it has a solemn dream-Uke aspect, for there I passed some of my earUest school-days, when, a chdd of some ten years old, I first left my paternal roof at Reading ; and I have never since entered the town — a period of more than thirty-five years ! The few images I can recaU from these old times are dreamy and sad ; for there crabbed sectarianism, at once active and stern, cradled all the thoughts of chddhood ; and I look along the level plain which the railway skirts, and try, almost in vain, to trace the course RAILWAY PICTURES. of some of our long walks — to Basing Park — or to Sherburne, the dearer, because almost the only pleasure we were permitted to enjoy. The ruin, however, I remember well, standing on a heap of confused graves, beside a dark lane, at the entrance of the town ; then to me a romantic height — now all laid bare to the railroad, an object for a moment's glance.

It is very shght ; a low tower and one wall of brick thinly cased with stone, pierced by three windows ; but it has exquisite elegance and grace. Quitting Basingstoke, the road passes through an uninteresting country till it approaches Winchester; then we see the old grey square tower amidst the chalky lulls, and think of the long succession of bhthe students who having studied, and wept, and played, and aspired, and been happy, almost beneath its shadow — noble union of the associations of antiquity and youth ! The whole way from Winchester to South ampton, through a valley opening to the sea, and by the side of a river, widening as it approaches its mouth, is lovely. There is one spot on the right-hand side of the road, where the vale opens into a small crescent, edged with a bank of most graceful trees, and, beneath them, rimmed by the fuU, lucid, narrow stream, foUowing the bend of the foliage with exactest nicety, which is the very SOUTHAMPTON. perfection of smaU, low, wood-enriched meadow scenery.

On our arrival at Southampton, we straggled through a broding sun to the good inn — one of the few which wdl outlast the railroad revolution — "The Dolphin;" ordered dinner; learned that the steamboats — one French, one EngUsh — started for Havre at six; decided in favour of our own countryman, " The Grand Turk;" secured our berths, with the liberty of being wretched for twenty-four hours, at the absurdly cheap price of 4_. each; and made the most of our interval of ease by enriching it with a visit to Netley Abbey. After refusing to wait the return of a faithless fly, which had taken advantage of our momentary absence to convey a famdy to the pier, we leaped into a vehicle worthy of the name, which started with us at a charming pace. We were somewhat startled to find that we had to cross a creek, which was in truth the mouth of the httle river whose downward course we had been pursuing in a ferry boat; but we found the arrangements exceUent, and ourselves, fly, horse and aU, in five minutes on the opposite shore.

From hence to the Abbey we enjoyed a charming rural ride — now over a bit of common, now through a shaded lane, with hints of the sea to the right ; and recollect especially one b3 NETLEY ABBEY. turn of the road up a gentle hdl, disclosing rugged ground covered with heather in pinkest bloom — miniature Trosachs, dazzhng with confused reminiscences of Scotland — and presently bringing in view a pretty mockery of a lake with jagged banks, which might be Loch Keturine seen through a diminishing lens. If these beauties were smaU, the ruin to which they led was not, but might have held sway amidst the mightiest scenery. It is the vastest of our Abbey Ruins, like Chepstow among our Castles. The great gaunt masses of stone look as if giant power had rent them — as if they had been broken by other than mortal hands or mortal engines.

The vegetation which mingles with them is in noble keeping with this character. The trees which grow freely within the great expanse of the chapel are not gentle companions of the stone, but rise in native independence from the ground, scorning the broken pavement, and towering freely towards the sky. Through a huge window — that is, a great jagged opening of the stone which a window once inhabited — you see a bold bank descending, on which coarse rank grass aud tares wave in sturdy luxuriance. There can not be a more decided contrast between two things having a common name and old associations in com mon, than between this vast sheU of ancient pride NETLEY ABBEY. and pomp, and the fair, neat, trim grace of Tintern. It is, hke a mammoth among fossils, an elephan tine record of the past. We had short time to examine it — yet sufficient : for it is not a ruin of exquisite detad, but of heroic, single, powerful impression ; and this perhaps is better conveyed by a glance — better grasped by one effort of the excited mind, than obtained by minute inspection.

We returned to our inn as swiftly and as pleasantly as we went ; delighting in the achievement of a new and mighty image ; and satisfied that the hour and three quarters, between a quarter before three and haU-past four, which the excursion occupied, "had life and food for future years." A good substantial dinner at the " Dolphin," accompanied by port wine which would have been exceUent if it had not had the fatal curse of sweet ness, was despatched just in time for another fly to convey us to the packet. Unfortunately for me, I found time to take " an infaUible specific against sea-sickness," in the shape of some drops of essence of tar, in fond rehance on which I trod the deck of " The Grand Turk" with a light heart, notwithstanding some tastes of tar which did not give me a rehsh for naval life.

The declining sun shed sweet but watery beams along the low wood crowned banks of the Southampton Water ; hght VOYAGE TO HAVRE. rain began to drizzle ; but I grew confident in the potency of my charm. Alas ! the old rule " Na turam expellas furcd," &c, held good in my case. It is true that the tar did avert sickness which else would have arisen; but it held the enemy bound in as. with a clasp of iron ; and the sensations were more intolerable, if that can be, than those they prevented. TiU twelve, amidst drizzle and in cold, I walked the deck; — then, from mere cold, sought the shelf on which I was destined to lay my misery; — and, at four, unrefreshed and distracted with headache, I sought the deck for variety of pain. Here the charm gave way; I was naturally ill — only worse than usual — and so con tinued untd about seven in the morning, when we reached the quay at Havre.

Here, having left our passport in the hands of the poUce, we stepped on shore, and encountered a tribe of ragged boys, jabbering, pushing, shoving cards into our hands and faces — the eager panegyrists of some twenty wretched hotels. We had been advised to prefer the Hotel de l'Europe by a sprightly midshipman, who had leave of absence from his ship at Ports mouth for a week, which he proposed to spend at Havre. One of our plagues, an elder and sedater scoundrel than the others, conducted us to the right hotel ; but, when there, informed us it was HAVRE full ; and endeavoured to locate us in an opposite hostelry of very strange appearance; but, after some bustle, we were shown into the salle-a-manger of the proper hotel, and promised apartments at some indefinite period when they coidd be got ready.

Oh, the miseries of the half-hour that elapsed before that promise was performed ! It is not often one recollects mere personal incon veniences — they flit away, whdst recollections of enjoyment remain and deepen — but this interval of wretchedness cannot be forgotten. Unwashed, unshaved, uncombed — stdl faint with the remains of sickness — pestered with the receding taste of the tar poison — baked in the sun — tired of the crowd of commissionnaires and beggars — hungry, thirsty, perplexed and out of temper, amidst the remains of a just finished breakfast, and unable to obtain an answer, I thought myself a sad example to aU " livers out of Britain," who could hve in it. Such misery, however, could not last in Candide's " best of aU possible worlds ;" — so it vanished by degrees; — soap and water were indicated; — and soon a dish of cutlets and some tolerable coffee made what remained of wretchedness endurable, and a bottle of brisk vin ordinaire chased it away.

After breakfast, we went out to see the town ; — which I thought the most striking piece of out- HAVRE landish civic picture I had ever seen ; — and, even after seeing Rouen, I think it the most pecuhar, and most unlike aU we see at home. It is a city for a dream. Stretched along the margin of a quay, indented by three basins crowded with ships, it resounds with the babble of aU languages — French, or a jabber which passes for it, Dutch, Russian, Ger man, Enghsh ; and swarms with sailors and tra ders hi costumes to match, made more grotesque by a Uberal intermixture of Jews. The houses taU, gaunt — aU aUve with windows, indicating the dense population within — are of colours as various as the dialects ; red, yellow, brown, black, dingy white, yet aU seemingly baked together by the sun, and flaunting in a kind of rude harmony.

They rise to seven or eight stories, like the houses in the Old Town of Edinburgh ; and often perched above all is a lonely attic, so small that one wonders who can hve there — Hanging so light and hanging so him, On the topmost ridge that looks up at the sky. The bustle of the quay is also diversified by shops, which are aviaries — all gay with innume rable birds of the most beautiful plumage, chiefly caged, but some regal-looking parroquets stand out on perches, and pretend to be at liberty, but HAVRE who, alas ! are fast chained to their thrones. One broad and busy street passes through the middle of the city, garnished with shops, and shows a crowning hiU, capped with viUas, in the distance. The other streets which bisect the inte rior are generally so narrow, that the sky is only visible as through a slit at the top; but they are very picturesque in theh' way ; Heaven help those who dwell in them !

A mound and trench inserted within it surround the city on aU sides except its sea-ward front; and the green bank, scanty though the grass is, looks refreshing when seen, as it sometimes is, at the extremity of the suffocating aUeys which branch out from the central street. We passed the moat at the end of this street by a draw-bridge, duly guarded against nobody, and, seated on the opposite mound, looked out on the suburb beyond. The lull which we had seen dis closed from the street now appeared a high circling bank, like that on which Bath or Lisbon stands, rising to the height (as we guessed) of 1000 feet, and covered with trees, with which houses were in terspersed ; and which, but that the trees were not very green, nor the houses very white, would have been really fine. As it was, we were not tempted to climb it, in the sun and the dust, and contented ourselves with determining that there must be a HAVRE splendid view from the summit, of the sea, the Seine, and the strange town of Havre, which may be designated not as French, but as " outlandish."

Although the shops, though it was Sunday, were aU open, and the natives, because it was Sunday, were attired in their best clothes, we found it a hard matter to get rid of the long and heavy in terval between the morning service, during part of which we stood amidst a dense crowd in the principal church, and the table d'hote at five, which, hungry and exhausted, we expected with unusual eagerness. Dinner, however, which "comes" or should come "to aU," came at last to us ; and though the refection was more shadowy than we afterwards enjoyed at other such social tables, it put us in good heart and humour, and enabled us to endure a concert after wards. It was an instrumental concert given in an open square, in which a roundabout invited to a giddy mimicry of chivalry, the aspirants being whirled round on wooden horses, and armed with lances to dislodge some cups or baUs hung up be fore them ; and in which also the various appara tus of gymnastic exercise, poles, ladders, wooden horses, and parallel bars, bespoke the healthful and delightful recreations of the youths of the town and of the college.

One of the latter, a taU young HAVRE 17 man of twenty, in the dark-green uniform of the school, who had made acquaintance with our social sailor and readdy extended it to us, strongly urged us to stay tiU Wednesday, when the pupds would receive their prizes from the hands of the mayor of Havre, and offered to obtain us tickets to hear the examination and witness its issue. He pressed it so modestly, that it was reaUy a pity to refuse ; and if our time had permitted, in spite of the ennui of another day at Havre, we should scarcely have had the heart to do it ; but selfishness and the Seine prevaded. We learned afterwards that he, though an Enghshman, who had voluntarily placed himself at this school to obtain a sohd and cheap education, had obtained the first prize ; and had been crowned with a wreath, laurel in form and sdver in substance, before the assembled beauty and fashion of Havre; some presage of which triumph doubtless animated his wish that his new acquaintances should witness the cere monial.

Although " the night was chdly and not dark," therefore not the night for fireworks or a concert in the open air, we enjoyed the scene as weU as our fatigue would permit ; the music, aU instrumental, was stirring, and the fireworks well intended, if not weU executed. On our return to the hotel, we took coffee in our hostess's parlour, HAVRE and after resisting the importunities of our sador friend " to stay one more day," bade him farewell, and settled aU matters, even to paying for our breakfast, that we might be ready for the steam boat, which was to start at seven on the following morning for Rouen. We fancied our young ac quaintance would be very dull without us, and find his week's hohday a very oppressive thing in a town of strangers. I was led to phdosophise on the general infelicity of holidays ; how much ennui there is in the very heart of them; how, if we could abstract from them the pains of expectation, listlessness, hunger, and especiaUy consider how great an object dinner is in the midst of them, we should arrive at the conclusion that our busiest days are our happiest.

Surely, we thought, this youth might have found more amusement among his shipmates at Portsmouth, than in this strange town — to spend, or rather hnger, a week in which he endures two nights' voyages, and spends money he can dl spare. This strain of reflection was plausible, but, we afterwards found, whoUy inap plicable to the individual case ; for " our unhappy friend" liked Havre so weU, that he sent home for further leave and more money ; struck up an in nocent friendship with the landlady of the hotel ; and accompanied her to a grand masked baU, at THE SEINE. 19 which he appeared as an opera-dancing girl, in pink stockings and short petticoats, and she as an Enghsh jockey, " and aU things changed them to their contraries." So our philosophy was mis placed, and our pity thrown away ! The next morning we rose at five, to be in time for the steam-boat — took a hasty breakfast — and hurried to the quay.

There had been rain in the night which stdl drizzled on us, so that we embarked with minds tuned to the endurance of a duU day ; but happdy our fortitude was not required. The morning brightened into a sober serenity as we advanced into the open sea ; grew lovely as the finely-defined mouth of the Seine grew palpable before us ; and the weather conti nued from that time briUiant untU we quitted France. Nothing could be more charming than the voyage to Rouen, which we reached by two o'clock. The Seine, with its banks, far exceeded my expectations, which, having been accustomed to take my notion of it from writers who have represented it at Paris as far inferior to the Thames at London, were very unworthy of the truth. It has not, perhaps, any portion equal in interest to the Rhine between Bingen and Bonn, where its mighty waters pour their coUected force through a channel which, noble in breadth, is narrow com- THE SEINE. pared with its fields of waters above and its great expanse below ; where both sides rise into majesty ; and every rocky promontory towers into a castle of old time ; but its uniform course is far fairer, and its body of water scarcely inferior, at least as it expands to the eye.

It has besides, the three epic incidents of a beginning, a middle, and an end ; in which last the Rhine lamentably fails. The Rhine, when contemplated in its entire course, too painfully reminds me of the history of some great intellect generously impeUed and haunted by phantoms of nobleness, but undirected by con stancy to one worthy aim. It gushes into lusty life — rejoices in its strength — reflects great images in its course, which are but shadowed on it, not abiding on its bosom — daUies among fair islands, dissipating its strength by dividing its power — makes a stupendous effort to master a rocky bar rier, and triumphantly succeeds — but, after aU, instead of meeting the ocean in pomp worthy of its greatness, wastes itself in several low sandy outlets, and loses its very name, or retains it only doubtfully, in some smaU Dutch-degraded channel.