Impressions, thoughts, and sketches : during two years in France and Switzerland

Front matter

iliiiilili ll

Hill

»miiiiiiiiiiiiiii"iiiiiiii-'^

Letter I, Letters II. to IX

PARIS FIRST BOARDING SCHOOL 8

Letters IX to XV.

PARIS. — SECOND BOARDING SCHOOL .... 58

Letters XV. — XVI.

EXCURSION TO HAVRE . . . . . . . HI

Letters XVII.— XVIII.

PARIS. — A BOARDING HOUSE 128

Letters XIX. to XXV.

PARIS. — THIRD BOARDING SCHOOL 146

Letters XXV.— XXVI. .

BRUSSELS 194

Letters XXVII.— XXVIII.

FRANKFORT 212 lY CONTENTS.

PAGE

Letters XXIX.— XXX.

BADEN 230

Letter XXXL ZURICH 249

Letters XXXIL— XXXIIL

INTERLAKEN 258

Letter XXXIV.

LAUSANNE 276

Letter XXXV.

CHAMOUNI 283

Letters XXXVI. to XL.

GENEVA 292

Letters XL. — XLI.

RETURNING HOME 327

FRANCE AND SWITZERLAND.

GOING FROM HOME.

LETTER I.

Paris, FehriMry 10, 183—.

My dear Mother,

To find myself in one week transported from our home in Lancashire to the capital of France, from your side to a lonely room in a Parisian boarding-school, is a very mar^- ellous thing, now that I have time to reflect on it ; and all my reflections tend to make me very sad. Yet I assure myself that I ought not to be sad, as I am now about to have gratified what has long been my most earnest wish, — namely, to see this great city, and to know the French in their own country. But before I tell you anything about Paris, I must give you the history of my journey, concerning which you will be anxious. When I left you at eight o'clock on jVIonday last, I might have said with poor Launce, " Xay, it will be this hour ere I have done weeping, all the kind of the Launces have this very fault, I have received my proportion like the prodigious son, and am going to the Imperial's court ;" but I think Launce did not weep very long, nor did I, — I remembered that I was too old to play the baby, I remembered also the comfort which was given to Launce in his sorrow, " Away, ass, you will lose the tide." I did not lose the tide. In a short time I found myself at the river side, and in the ferry-boat found my travelling friends awaiting me. The morning was fine,

B and our little sail across the river agreeable enough, but it was soon over, and then, behold me really on my road to France, I v^ho, twenty-four hours before, had not thought of such a journey as probable for some weeks at least.

Tuesday dawned upon me some fifty miles from London. The morning was bright and beautiful : I looked out on a landscape covered by a pure sheet of snow, and the trees surpassed in beauty any white plumes which I shall see in Paris. Owing to the depth of snow on the roads, we were many hours later in arriving in town than we had expected to be. After I had performed my toilette, and had had some refreshment, I left my friends, and drove to Mrs. H.'s, where I remained all night, and where I was treated by every member of the family with a sincerity of kindness and hospitality which has left a profound impression of gratitude on my mind ; for I was so little knowTi to them, that I did not feel that I had a right to be thus at home, so far from you. On the following day Mr. and IMiss H. drove with me to the office of the French Ambassador, where I found my friends awaiting me, and, without any difficulty, we obtained our passports.

We went down to Dover by night, and breakfasted there, on a bright, frosty, most delightful morning. After a little repose, we walked to the fortifications on the heights ; from whence the town appeared quite in a nest below us. We had a very good opportunity of seeing its inhabitants ; for there was a great merry-making, in honour of the coming of age of the son of some rich man. There were drums beating, and flags flying in the streets, and oxen roasted whole carried in procession. On our return to our hotel, we were joined by some acquaintances of Mrs. W., and had a great deal of very pleasant talk. One of the gentlemen turned out quite a classic in conversation ; Mr. D. showed himself more than a mere man of business ; and Mrs. W. and I helped to keep up the ball, assisted by her son. At twelve o'clock, however, these new friends left us ; and at one we embarked for Calais in excellent spirit, although certainly rather alarmed by a description we had been reading in our guide-book of the harpies, by which we might expect to be soon attacked, in the form of Custom-house officers and commissioners from hotels. Now, on entering the packet, we felt indeed that we were approaching the land of the Gaul. Here were Frenchmen of every age and description talking with all the volubility of their nation. I lent an attentive ear, and sometimes caught a part of their discourse. At one time, a very warm and vehement discussion was carried on between an old and a young man, respecting the possibility of England's being conquered by France ; the former maintained that it might be, the latter that it could not be. I know not how the matter terminated, but there were moments when the disputants seemed ready to come to blows.

As I looked on the high white cliffs of Dover, I could not help thinking of those years, " in the dim backward and abyss of time," when the fleets of Rome appeared beneath those cliffs ; when the ci\'ilised rulers of the world prepared to attack the naked savages of our island. We have since then run the career of the Roman, except that for the pride of military greatness, we have substituted the avarice of commercial greatness. We have invaded the territories of the naked savage in every quarter of the globe, we have poured out his blood like water, we have robbed him of all we could carry away — in these things we have as yet but trodden in the steps of the pagan Roman — may better things be hoped for ? — alas, I know not !

We were only three hours in crossing from Dover to Calais. Immediately on landing, we were taken to a place where our passports were examined, and then we were given to a female who took us into a private room to examine our pockets and bags. Mrs. W. and I had nothing to fear, but I 'rather think some others had much to fear, for I am sure we had a number of female smugglers on board our packet. It was quite amusing, as we came near Calais, to see them begin to decorate their b2 heads with caps, trimmed with a prodigious quantity of English lace. Many of these women were intoxicated — assuredly, smuggling, like poaching and body-snatching, brings with it many vices. The personal examination being over we went to our hotel where we ordered dinner, and where we remained while the gentlemen returned to see the trunks examined. Dinner soon came, and a ver)' good dinner it was, and I think a merrier party never dined on first landing in France ; we laughed and rattled, and were exceedingly happy \\athout knowing why. After dinner we set out to see the lions of Calais, very much in the dusk as you may suppose, Mr. D. taking charge of Mrs. W., and young Mr. W. and I taking charge of each other. How different the aspect of everything here is from Dover, where we had been but a few hours before ! — all is at once foreign. At length we came to the church, a very handsome one, called Notre Dame de Calais. We were enticed into it by an old soldier, or gendarme, or something of that sort. Once in, we could not escape from his clutches. Like a well-practised showman he led us from shrine to shrine, from chapel to chapel, from tomb to tomb, giving us the histoiy of every thing which we did not see. Here and there in this large church burnt a little candle, "so shines a good deed in this naughty world :" near it knelt some votaress at her prayers for the dead. Quoting Sterne, Mr. D. was determined to try what adventures a glove-shop would offer. We had a good deal of laughter, for we were in a laughing mood, but nothing in the smallest degree sentimental occurred.

We retired early to rest that we might be ready in good time for our journey, and we were in good time, in spite of the usual reproaches levelled at us ladies. On leaving Calais we congratulated ourselves that we had not found the harpies so disagreeable as we had anticipated. We had no attacks on our purses except by the landlord, the commissioner, (who undertook all the passport and custom-house business) and the porter ; the last feelingly declared as he rubl>ed up his hair on his forehead, that he had had the honour of becoming quite wet by perspiring in our service, and entreated to have a fi-anc more, which j\Ir. D. gave him. It was late when we arrived at Abbeville, and we were too much fatigued to seek for adventures, yet I could not help thinking of them as I looked out of my w-indow. The church-bells tolled "the hour of night's black arch the key-stone." The guards on the walls challenged each other — now and then a flash of lightning played strangely on the skirt of a dark cloud, yet overhead the moon shone brightly.

The following day was like all those which have passed since I left you, sunny and pleasant. When we stopped to breakfast we entered into conversation with two Italian gentlemen on their return from England. One of them was addressed as general. One of the carbonari or illuminati gentlemen, I suppose, for he told me he had had a great deal of trouble and vexation about his passport in France, and in other countries, but not in England — certainly England is kind to all radicals except her own, — ^he entreated me to visit Italy, and said he would give me letters of introduction to three married daughters of his, at Genoa, Milan, Padua. At this moment I feel as if I were far enough from you, and have no \^-ish to extend my travels, but there have been times when the idea of visiting Italy would have delighted me. But one has no conception until one is in a foreign land alone what a terrible feeling is that of being so far from home, being quite among strangers. We cannot help \vishing to see those places which are famous in history, and there must be pleasure in the gratification of our wish ; yet after all, travelling is, I begin to suspect, a finer thing in imagination than in reality.

The journey of our last day was more slow and more wearisome than that of any of the other days had been. The weather was however still fine, and we all acknowledged that we found the horses, the roads, the country, much better than we had expected, and could we have been fresh and untired we should have enjoyed every thing very much. At nine o'clock in the evening we amved in this great city. It was then too late for me to think of going to Madame B.'s, so I went to the hotel which ]\Ir. D. had been induced to patronise. We were shown into a room ornamented by six large miiTors, but it had a terribly dirty floor. The host was playing whist with one person — two dumbies consequently : a step farther than I have ever seen the love of whist carried in England. When we entered, howeyer, he immediately put up his cards and set about ordering our tea. After we had inspected our sleeping rooms, I returaed to that in which we were to have tea, but my friends had not yet descended, and there was no one there but the host — how different from an English host ! — he would not permit a foreign young lady to remain without some amusement, and began to give me all the information in his power. As a Frenchman, information about himself naturally followed that about his hotel, so he kindly told me that he had lately been very ill, but was now very well, having

had an operation performed for , out with it, for it is a

trait of manners — for the stone ; and lest I should make any mistake in what he said, which indeed, at first I did, he translated it into English, which he speaks perfectly, having been many years in America. I was glad when my friends and tea came, and this good gentleman retired.

To-day, my eyes opened to my first day in Paris. It was a lovely morning, and after the W.'s had driven off to the Faubourg St. Germain, I preferred walking with Mr. D. to Madame B.'s, that I might see a little of the city. ]\Iine host seemed very much chagrined at my orders to send my trunks to Madame B.'s, and at the announcement of my speedy departure. He assured me that I should be much better in his house than in any boarding-school, that I should meet a nice party at the table d'hote, and that Madame, his wiie, would accompany me in some delightful walks. In spite of all, I begged to decline his favours. I enjoyed my walk very much, and at Madame B.'s at one o'clock took leave of kind

Mr. D, Madame was out but I was quite expected, and one of her daughters and the old governess (whom I -wish I could describe but that is impossible) received me, and were verypolite. However, all I wished was to be alone, and I retired to my room, where I began this long epistle. At four I had the pleasure of meeting Madame B. whom I like very much ; and at five I obeyed a summons to the dining-room. How I was thunderstruck on entering it ! Every tongue in it — and there were about five-and-forty tongues — was going at double time ! I remembered the perfect silence of an English boarding-school dinner, sighed, sat down, and tried to eat as well as the noise would permit me. After dinner all the family, — ^there are two grown-up daughters, and the parlour boarders, about half-a-dozen, — ascended to the saloon ; the pupils returned of course to their school-rooms. In the course of the evening a few gentlemen dropped in, and there was no intermission of conversation for a moment. At nine we had tea, and before ten I, sad and sorrowful, retired to my room with borrowed night-dress, — for mine host has not sent my trunks, although I despatched a note about them this evening. Now I have given you my history since I left you, and when you read it pray be at ease ; I am quite well and quite safe ; the sadness which has crept over me more than once during the day, I attribute to the new feeling of being deprived at once of my mother tongue, it is not finding my own language in any one near me w^hich makes me feel so much alone, for indeed every one is kind and I have really nothing to complain of. I understand all that is addressed to myself in French, but I do not yet catch a rapid conversation between other persons, yet I speak so well that they will scarcely believe I have not been in France before. It is, I believe, true that the tongue learns a foreign language sooner than the ear.

But no more — now to bed in my new abode. Good night — good night !

FRANCE AND SWITZERLAND.

FIRST BOARDING SCHOOL.

LETTER II. Paris, February 26, 183

My dear Mother,

Thank you for your letter which came so soon, before you had had mine, but now you have had it and are contented about me, and now I shall go back and tell you something of my first week here. I went very soon to deliver my letter to Mrs. E., she lives very near the Place Vendome, which is the best part of Paris, the quarter of the Tuileries, the court or west end. If she be not in great affluence, she is at least in perfect independence, and a widow with one daughter might be contented with her income in England, in France she can be more than contented, can be very gay. She is too much of the woman of the world, and of the frivolous kind of that species, which admits of many varieties. Her apartment is handsome though on a fourth story, and I shall describe it to you, as it will give you an idea of a French house, or flat as it is called in Scotland. You enter a little anteroom, which has in it three folding-doors, one of them leading to a dra\N-ing-room, another to a dining-room, another to a bed-room. Within these rooms are other bed-rooms with dressing closets ; and at the other side are kitchens and servants' rooms, all of a good size — in fact there is every conveniency of a house on each floor (and there are six floors) of that one house. The rents for an apartment in that part of Palis vary from 2,000 francs to 10,000 ; that is, from about £80 to £400. After some conversation, Mrs. E. proposed taking me with her to the Louvre, to see the exhibition of the works of li\-ing artists, at present open by ticket ; but in general the gallery is open to every one. I know nothing of the cant of criticism, but I have an idea of what pleases myself, and to say the truth there was little that pleased me. From the Louvi-e we passed into the gardens of the Tuileries, and I had my first view of the palace. It seems to me the height of absurdity for the French to intend to do without a king. What ! with such palaces as theirs ? Nonsense ! The bait is too tempting. A Washington might have resisted it, a Napoleon could not ; although he had seen the grand staircase of that palace of the Tuileries stained from top to bottom with blood. Yes, it ran red with blood, he has himself declared ! And could one bearing the name of Bourbon resist what he could not resist 1 — " A question not to be asked." Some Louis, Charles, Philippe, or Henri will cling to the nation as long as those gorgeous palaces remain. With these sage reflections I separated from Mrs. E., and returned to Madame B.'s in time to hear the dinner-bell.

In the evening a young gentleman presented himself in the saloon, to give Madame B. some account of a son, whom she has in a distant province. He staid till ten o'clock, and I was much amused by his talk on politics. His contempt for Louis-Philippe and his ministers was unbounded, and expressed in the most vehement tenns ; in short, he was a republican to the extremest degree of republicanism ; and, from what I can learn, so are the young men generally. The ladies all agreed, when he departed, that he had une helle aim, and that he was exceedingly well-informed.

I must tell you that I like the B.'s very well for so far ; but what I do not think I shall ever like in French society is, the great and noisy vivacity of the conversation ; it suits not my temperament, or at least suits not my long habitudes of a book, or an occasional word with you in our quiet evenings at home. On the Wednesday and Sunday evenings, the young ones of the school-room come into the saloon, and pass the time menily in chatting, and singing, and dancing to the music of the piano. Madame B.'s daughters join in the dance with all the joyfulness of the youngest child present. On our last Wednesday evening we had three gentlemen visitors — one a very agreeable and intelligent young gentleman (but not in the political strain like him of whom I last told you) ; another, an officer, whose latest feats of arms were performed at the siege of Antwerp ; and the third is one who comes every Sunday and Wednesday evening. And now I am going to give an instance of that good feeling which the French so often show, and in which I am afraid we are sometimes deficient. This gentleman is a little insane ; his only happiness is to be among little girls, to see them enjoy themselves, and to play with them like a child. He lives in this faubourg, in which there are a gi-eat many schools, and he is admitted in the evening at almost all. How much your kind heart would enjoy the gaiety and simplicity of our evenings, when the children are with us ! The saloon, with its polished uncarpeted floor, reflecting the bright wood fire laid on the hearth, and with its pictures, its mirrors, its curtains of muslin, is very agreeable. I think I begin to like a wood fire better than a coal one already. "Whether it excites warmer discussions than the latter I know not, but after the children and gentlemen had left us the other evening, I was much amused with an argument which took place as we stood around it. Madame B. suffered much in her nearest and dearest connexions by the first revolution, yet is she staunch republican ; her daughters, like many young persons whom I know in England, who think it genteel to be consers^ative, take the side of Louis-Philippe. Our debate by the fireside was as warm and vehement as any in the Chamber of Deputies could be. One would imagine that in those violent encounters of the tongue, the temper and the aflfections would suffer a little ; yet I do not think that they do, in this country at least.

It is only fair I should tell you something of morning as well as of evening hours — of the garden as well as of the saloon. Breakfast was later than usual yesterday, and, cold as the weather is, I walked in the garden for a few minutes before it ; the garden is very large and pleasant, although not in the best order. The morning was fine, and I began to feel then, for the first time, as if I could reconcile myself to customs so very difi^erent from those in which I have been brought up ; as if I could take my cofi"ee at a long uncovered table decorated with two steaming tureens of soup. It is extraordinary that even the English children in the school like for breakfast the soup, which is often made entirely of different kinds of vegetables — sometimes of onions alone. For me, the odour of the soup was, at first, enough to take away my appetite, and I made a request to have a cup of coffee in my own room. But what nonsense was that ! If soup agrees with children in the morning, why should they not have it ? No children could appear healthier or happier than those in this house. It is certain that they eat more than any young people whom I have seen ; but then they play more, they dance more, they talk more, they laugh more, they have more of the open air ; so that, I suppose, they require more food than my sober English school companions did.

What shaU I tell you next ? That I did not like the service at the ambassador's chapel, and went ^^•ith the B.'s to the Oratoire, which is now the French Protestant church. It was crowded to excess, and as we were late we were obliged to take what places we could get, for there are no pews. We went then into a little recess, so far removed from the preacher that I merely heard the sound of his voice. Three or four times he made a pause, and there arose quite a storm of nose-blowing and spitting through all the congregation. I think, indeed, with due deference to French politeness, that ]\Irs. Trollope might give some useful lessons here on the very same subject on which she complains so loudly respecting the Americans. After service. Mademoiselle B. and I went to walk in the Gardens of the Tuileries. The day was delightful, and there was a great number of persons out — some sitting, some walking, all talking. From the gardens we passed into the Place Louis Quinze — Louis Seize — de la Concorde — but — de la Guillotine. Here, in the midst of superb buildings raised for power, or for pleasure, flowed the blood of the ^-irtuous and the royal ! Here I could have wept for human nature ! But why % All around were smiles and gaiety. Why should I dwell on what the French forget % In the centre of this place, where the guillotine once stood, Charles X. was erecting a monument to his brother, Louis XVI. Louis-Philippe has nearly completed a monument of another kind ; for, as there the present charter of the nation was signed, it is to be dedicated to Concord, and the place is now called the Place de la Concorde.

What sort of weather have you ? Here it is colder than I ever remember to have felt it at home. There is in the house a Mrs. K., an Englishwoman, a widow, who has two little girls in the school ; she is perpetually railing at the want of comfort of French houses ; but it is only when we have this piercing cold weather, that I allow she has truth on her side. Poor thing ! she has suffered much in her family and fortunes ; and as she cannot speak French, and lives almost always in her own room, she must be often dull enough. She is not an educated woman, and is full of vulgar prejudices against the French, and all their ways ; the readiness with which I have suited myself to them, and the facility with which I have begun to converse, amaze her. I try to persuade her that the best plan is never to look for English manners or English comforts, to make up one's mind to everything different, and to be as contented as one can. To say the tmth, I am convinced that no genuine thorough-bred Englishman or Englishwoman can like France as a permanent place of residence. In saying this, I do not compare the manners and habits of the two nations as to their goodness or badness ; it is merely the great difference in them which must make them repugnant the one to the other ; for, no doubt, English customs are as disagreeable to French people as French are to English. Perhaps in the very highest rank, where wealth can make

England France or France England, this great difference may not be felt. Still, I think an honest John Bull of any rank will scarcely ever be able to overcome prejudice so far as to like any other country so well as his own to reside in. With him the taste for living in foreign countries is altogether artificial and absurd. And for me, I almost think it was absurd ever to \^-ish to be in this great capital, when I recal my first distressing emotions on finding myself alone among persons of foreign tongue and foreign habits ; that first feeling is gone, but my patience and contentment are tried by the weather, which is quite foreign to me also in its keenness. " (Test decide, mademoiselle,''' said the old governess at dinner to-day, " the summer is finished for us ; when the year commences like this, we have never any summer." This decree made me quake yet more than the cold and rain had done all the morning, and I began to fear that the few treacherous fine days which had smiled on my arrival were to be my all of fine weather. But ^ladame B. gave me a little comfort. " "When we have much rain," said she, " in February, ]\Iarch, and April, I think a fine season follows." Cheered by this, I followed her into her bedroom, and was followed by some ^-isitors who with me preferred that room to the saloon. She was rejoiced that the cold weather had procured her such an agreeable little reunion, and we had a great deal of very amusing conversation, in which I learned something of the news of the day and of three 2^ast days. It is amazing with what delight the French enter on the subject of their last revolution ; and, indeed, the more one knows about it the more wonderful it seems. It was so unexpected, so rapid, so effectual — a thunderclap, which made monarchs tremble — a flash doing mighty things, and revealing yet more mighty of a nation's power.

But I must conclude. I have rambled on from one subject to another without method, until I have touched on one which should be treated with method, and not lightly ; so it is better to end. Good bve !