_RARY OF THL UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS Tom Turner Collection 914. HSTr CENTRAL CIRCULATION BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its renewal or its return to the library from which it was borrowed on or before the Latest Date j stamped below. You meiy be charged a minimum fee of $75.00 for each lost book. TO SSSf&U. TELEPHONE CENT* MM00 UN ,VESITY - "">"* ""A" " URBANA.CHAMPA.ON / VICTOR HUGO. I THE R H IN E ; FROM THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO. BY D. M. AIRD, AUTHOR OF "THE STUDENT'S FRENCH GRAMMAR," ETC., BTC. COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. LONDON : PUBLISHED BY D. AIRD, TAVISTOCK-STREET, CO VENT-GARDEN, 1843. AIRD, o^ CONTENTS. LETTER I. From Paris to Ferte-sous-Jouarre. Dammartin its literature and curiosities. An accident and its results A German waggon. The pleasures of country travelling. The phi- losophical Hunchback and reasoning Gendarme. Meaux and its cu- riosities 3 LETTER II. Montmirail Montmort Epernay. Montmirail Castle. Vaux Champs. The rencontre and reflections thereupon. Montmort Castle. Mademoiselle Jeannette. The chur- ches and curiosities of Epernay. Anecdote of Strozzi and Brisquet, Henry the Second's Fool 11 LETTER III. Chalons. Sainte Menehould. Varennes. The reverie. The arrest of Louis the Sixteenth. The salutation and its effects. The signboard. Notre Dame at Chalons. Antiquarian for- getfulness. The inscription The watchman, wife, and gnome son Abbey of Notre Dame de PEpine The storm Metz hotel The sleeping canary A host and hostess Champagne and the significa- tion of Champenois Madame Sabliere and La Fontaine . 17 LETTER IV. From Villiers-Cotterets to La Frontiere. The effects of travelling The retrograde movement Reflection The secret of stars The inscription "I.C." The Cathedral where King Pepin was crowned The prisoner's sad rencontre Rheims Church at Mezieres The effects of a bomb Sedan and its contents The transpiring events at Turenne's -birth Conversation of a Sir John Falstaff and his better half - . . 28 CONTENTS. .LETTER V. Givet. Flemish Architects Little Givet The inscription Jose Gutierez The Peasant-Girl 39 LETTER VI. The banks of the Meuse Dinant Namur. The Lesse A Flemish Garden The Mannequin The Tombstone Athletic Demoiselles Signboards and their utility . . 45 LETTER VII. The banks of the Meuse- Huy Liege. A chapel of the tenth century Iron works of Mr. Cockerill; their sin- gular appearance Saint Paul's at Liege Palace of the Ecclesias- tical Princes of Liege Significant decorations of a room at Liege 49 LETTER VIII. The banks of the Vesdre. Verviers. Railways Miners at work Louis the Fourteenth . 58 LETTER IX. Aix-la-Chapelle The tomb of Charlemagne. hapel Legend of the Wolf and the Pine-apple Carlo Magno Bar- berousse The untombing of Charlemagne Exhibition of the Arm- chair of Charlemagne The Swiss Guide H6tel-de-Ville, the birth- place of Charlemagne Aix-la-Chapelle in the distance . .61 LETTER X. Cologne. The banks of the Rhine. Andernach. Deux. Cathedral of Cologne. The peasantry. The strolling musician Personifiers of the gods Goulu, Gluton, Goinfre, and Gouliaf. Dome of the cathedral of Cologne. Epitaph. Tomb of the Three Wise Men of the East. Destiny. The H6tel-de-Ville. The three bas-reliefs. The epic poet of Cologne. Cologne at night. Time and its effects 77 LETTER XI. Apropos of the house " Ibach." Man's infignificancy. His want of knowledge of himself his love for those who injure him. The House Ibach. Marie de Medicis, Rich- lieu, and Louis the Third . . . . . . . .go CONTENTS. LETTER XII. A few words respecting the Waldraf Museum. Schleis Rotten. " Stretching-out- of- the-hand system," or travelling' contingencies. Recapitulation .76 LETTER XIII. * Andernach. * A view from Andernach. Village of Luttersdorf. Cathedral. Its relics. Andernach castle. Inscription. The Tomb of Hoche. Gothic church and inscription . . . . . . 1 03 LETTER XIV. The Rhine. The Rhine at evening. Contrast of the Rhine with other rivers. The first people who took possession of the banks of the Rhine. Titus and the Twenty-second Legion. Singular coincidence. The different phases of the Rhingau. Mysterious populations of the Rhine. Civi- lization. Pepin-le-Bref, Charlemagne, and Napoleon . .109 LETTER XV. The Mouse. Velmich. Legend of the priest and the silver bell. Giant's tomb. Explanation of the Mouse. The solitary inhabitant of the ruin 1 1 8 LETTER XVI. The Mouse. Colossal profile. The duchy of M.de Nassau. Country sports; their punishment. A mountebank .125 LETTER XVII. Saint Goar. The Cat its interior. Fabulous rock of Lurley. The Swiss Valley. Tbe fruit girl. The Reichenberg. The Barbers' Village. Legend. The Rheinfels. Oberwesel. French hussar .A German supper .128 LETTER XVIII. Bacharach. Furstemberg, Sonneck and Heimberg. Europe. A happy little world. The cemetery .136 IV CONTENTS. LETTER XIX. "Fire! Fire!" Lorch. An incident. Combat of the Hydra and Dragon. The Hotel P at Lorch 140 LETTER XX. From Lorch to Bingen. Travelling on foot; its advantages and pleasures. The strange ren- contre. A dangerous spectator. The explication. Actors on a holiday. Marvellous facts and their connection with the " holiday of a menagerie." Furstemburg Castle. The three brothers, Cadenet, Luynes, and Bradnes. The three students. Sublimity of Nature. Ruin. The enigma. Falkenburg castle. The blooming group. Stella. Gantrum and Liba. Mausethurm. Hattoand the legend of the rats ! 147 LETTER XXI. Legend of the handsome Pecopin and the beautiful Bauldour. The planet Venus and the bird Phoenix. The difference between the ear of a young man and that of an old one. The qualities essential to different embassies. Happy effect of a good thought. The Devil is wrong in being a gourmand. Amiable proposition of an old sage. The wandering Christian. The danger to which we expose our- selves by getting on a strange horse. The return. Bauldour 171 LETTER XXII. Bingen. Houses at Bingen. Paradise Plain. The Klopp. -Mdlle. Bertin. The sage. . ...'..,.. 195 LETTER XXIII. Mayence. Cathedral its interior. Henry Frauenlob, the Tasso of Mayence. Marketplace ,. . ...... . . . .202 LETTER XXIV. Frankfort on the Maine. Jews at Frankfort. Slaughter-house. Roemer. Inhabitants of the Steeple 204 LETTER XXV. The Rhine. Rafts on the Rhine. Secret Souvenirs. Obcrwerth . . . 21 1 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. SHORTLY after HUGO'S " RHINE " engaged the atten- tion of the public, various were the criticisms which appeared in the daily and weekly papers, one praising the work in toto, another eulogizing what is termed " THE RHINE," but condemning "THE CONCLUSION," which has no reference to the excursion, being nothing more nor less than a political argument respecting the right of Germany to the left bank of that river. Free from party prejudice, the translator perused the work, and was so pleased with " THE RHINE" as a literary production, that he inserted an abridgment of it in " The Mirror," which was warmly received by the press in general, and by the readers of that old and respected periodical. Impressed with this fact, and confident of the merit of u TnE RHINE," in conjunction with its utility as a Guide, the translator brings it once more before the public, in a new and embellished form. The work consists of a series of letters descriptive of an excursion up that River. The author starts from Paris ; and as he proceeds on his journey he relates in a pleasing manner the disasters attendant on travel- ling gives a graphic account of the towns through which ii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. he passes and when he comes to a field of battle, an old church, a dilapidated castle, a relic of history, or some habitation rendered sacred from having been the birth- place of genius, he displays the might of his mind, not only by his extensive knowledge, but by the train of reflections which such scenes inspire, and by the phi- losophical remarks which he makes upon them. To the tourist this little Guide will be invaluable, and perhaps not less so to individuals deprived of the means of visiting the Rhine, for by the fireside their minds may wander to Andernach, range over the Waldraf Museum and dilate with joy as the eye scans the interesting inci- dents and curious Legends with which the work abounds. LETTER I. FROM PARIS TO FERTE-SOUS-JOUARRE. Dammartin its literature and curiosities. An accident and its re- sult. A German waggon. The pleasures of country travelling. The philosophical Hunchback and reasoning Gendarme. Meaux and its curiosities. BOUT two days ago I started from Paris at noon, and, pursuing my way by the route of Meaux, leaving St. Denis and Montmorency on the left, I cast my eyes upon the rising ground at the bottom of the plain, and while thinking of you, and tenderly bidding you farewell, a turning in the road hid it from my sight. You are already aware that when on long excursions I have a peculiar penchant for short stages, hate to be encumbered with luggage, and love to be alone in my carriage with the two friends of my infancy Virgil and Tacitus. As I had travelled by Soissons a few years ago, I took the Chalons road, which, owing to demolishers, or, as they style themselves, utilitarians, has now but very B 2 4 DAMMARTIN. little interest left. Nanteuil-le-Haudoin has no longer the castle, built by Francis the First ; the magnificent manor of the Duke of Valois, at Villiers- Cotterets, has been converted into a poor-house ; and there, as almost everywhere, sculpture and painting the mind of by- gone ages, the grace of the sixteenth century have dis- appeared. The enormous tower of Dammartin, from which Montmartre, nine leagues distant, could be distinctly seen, has been razed to the ground. Its lizard and vertical form gave rise to the proverb, which I could never well understand, " 77 est comme le chateau de Dammartin, qui creve de rire."* Since it has been deprived of its old bastille, in which the Bishop ofMeaux, when he quarrelled with the Count of Champagne, took refuge with seven of his followers, Dammartin has ceased to engender proverbs. It is now only remarkable for literary compositions similar to this note, which I copied verbatim from a book lying on the table of an auberge : " Dammartin (Seine-et-Marne) is a small town, situ- ated on a hill ; lace is the chief article of manufacture. Hotel : Sainte Anne. Curiosities : the parish church, hall; 1600 inhabitants." The short space of time which those tyrants of dili- gences, called conducteurs, allow for dinner would not permit me to ascertain if it was true that the sixteen hundred inhabitants of Dammartin were really curiosities. In the most lovely weather, and on the finest road in * He is like Dammartin Castle, bursting with laughter. FERTE-SOUS-JOUARRE. 5 the world, between Claye and Meaux, the wheel of my vehicle broke. (You know that I am one of those who al way s continue their journey, for, if the carriage renounce me, I abandon the carriage.) At that instant a small dili- gence passed, which was that of Touchard. There was only one vacant seat, I took it, and in ten minutes after the accident I was cnce more on my route, perched upon the imperiale, between a hunchback and a gendarme. Behold me now at Ferte-sous- Jouarre, a pretty little town with its three bridges, its charming isles, its old mill supported by five arches in the middle of the river, and its handsome pavilion, of the time of Louis the Thir- teenth, which, it is said, belonged to the Duke of Saint- Simon, and is now in the hands of a grocer. If, in fact, M. de Saint- Simon did possess that old ha- bitation, I very much doubt whether his natal mansion of Ferte-Vidame ever had a more lordly and stately appear- ance, or was better adapted to his rank of duke and peer, than thecharming littlecastle of Ferte-sous- Jouarre. You know, my friend, that, when travelling, I do not seek for incidents ; my desire is for scenes which may excite and create ideas, and for that new objects suffice. Besides, I am content with little : so that I see trees, the green sward, and have the open air, with a road before and behind me, I am perfectly satisfied. If the country be flat, I like an extended horizon ; if it be mountainous, I like the landscapes, and here there is one ever present- ing itself to the view. Before me is a charming valley ; to the right and left the strange caprices of the soil huge hills bearing the marks of husbandry, and squares, pleasing to the sight ; here and there groups B3 (> AN AUBERGE DOOR. ot low cottages, whose roofs seem to touch the ground; at the end of the valley a long line of verdure, with a current of water, which is crossed by a little stone bridge, partly dismantled by age, that serves to unite the two highways. When I was there, a waggon crossed it an enormous German waggon, swelled, girt, and corded, which had the appearance of the belly of Gargantua, drawn upon four wheels by eight horses. Before me, near the opposite hill, and shining in the rays of the sun, the road takes its course, upon which the shadows of the tall trees represent, in black, a large comb minus several teeth. Ah, well ! the large trees, the shadow of a comb, at which, perhaps, you are laughing, the waggon, the old bridge, the low cottages create pleasure, and make me happy. A valley such as this, with a brilliant sun above, ever pleases me. I looked around and enjoyed the scene, but my fellow-travellers were con- stantly yawning. When the change of horses takes place, everything amuses me. After the cracking of the whip, the noise of the horses' hoofs, and the jingling of the harness, we stop at the door of an auberge. A white hen is seen on the highway a black one amongst the brambles ; a harrow or an old broken wheel in a corner ; and children in the height of mirth, with comely, yet far from clean faces, playing round a stack of hay. Above my head, Charles the Fifth, Joseph the Second, or Napoleon, is suspended great emperors, who are now no longer fit for anything but signs to draw custom to an inn ! The house is full of voices : upon the step of the door the grooms and the kitchen-maids are composing idyls, THE GENDARME AND HUNCHBACK. 7 and the understrapper drawing water. Profiting by my high position upon the imperiale, I listened to the con- versation of the hunchback and the gendarme, and ad- mired the little place, with all its deformities and beauties. Besides, my gendarme and hunchback were philoso- phers, free from pride. They chatted familiarly together ; the former, without disdaining the hunchback the latter, without despising the gendarme. The hunchback payed a tax of six francs to Jouarre, the ancient Jovis ara, which he explained to the gendarme ; and when he was forced to give a sous to cross the bridge over the Marne, he be- came enraged with the government. The gendarme paid no taxes, but related his story with naivetS. In J814 he fought like a lion at Montmirail : he was then a consent. In 1830, in the days of July, he took fright, and fled : he was then a gendarme. That surprised le bossu, but it did not astonish me. Conscrit, he was only twenty years of age, poor and brave gendarme, he had a wife and children, and a horse of his own ; he was then a coward. The same man, nevertheless, but not the same life. Life is a sort of meat, which sauce alone renders palatable. No one is more dauntless than a galley- slave. In this world, it is not the skin that is prized it is the coat. He who has nothing is fearless. We must also admit that the two epochs were very different. Whatever is in vogue acts upon the soldier, as upon all mankind ; for the idea which strikes us, either stimulates or discourages. In 1 830 a revolution broke out : the soldier felt himself under a load ; he was cast down in spirits by the force of thought, which is equal to the force of circumstances ; he was fighting by the order of a MEAUX. stranger ; fighting for shadows created by a disordered brain, the dream of a distempered mind brother against brother all France against the Parisians. In 1814, on the contrary, the consent struggled with foreign enemies, for things easily comprehended for himself, for his father, his mother, and his sisters for the plough which he had just left for the hut which he saw smoking in the distance for the land which he had trod in infancy, for his suf- fering and bleeding country. In 1830 the soldier did not know what he was fighting for ; in 1814 he did more than know it he felt it ; he did more than feel it he saw it. Three things very much interested me at Meaux. To the right, on entering the town, is a curious gateway leading to an old church; the cathedral; and behind it an old habitation half fortified and flanked with turrets. There is also a court, into which I boldly entered, where I perceived an old woman, who was busily knitting. The good dame heeded me not, thus affording me an opportu- nity of studying a very handsome staircase of stone and wood- work, which, supported upon two arches, and crowned by a neat landing, conducted to an old dwelling. I had not time to take a sketch, for which I am sorry, for it was the first staircase of the kind I had ever seen ; it appeared to me to be of the fifteenth century. The cathedral is a noble-looking building ; its erection was begun in the fourteenth century, and continued to the fifteenth. Several repairs have lately been made, but it is not yet finished, for, of the two spires projected by the architect, one only is completed ; the other, which has been begun, is hidden under a covering of slate. The middle doorway, and that on the right, are of the fourteenth BENIGNE BOSSUET. 9 century, the one on the left is of the fifteenth ; they are all very handsome, though time has left its impress upon their venerable appearance. I tried to decipher the bas- reliefs. The pediment of the left doorway represents the history of John the Baptist; but the rays of the sun, which fell full on the fa9ade, prevented me from satisfying my curiosity. The interior of the church is superb : upon the choir are large orgees, and at its entry two beautiful altars of the fifteenth century ; but unfortunately, yet true to the taste of country people, they are daubed over with yellow oil paintings. To the left of the choir I saw a very pretty marble statue of a warrior of the sixteenth century. It was in a kneeling position, without armour, and had no inscrip- tion. I was not able to find out whose statue it is ; but you, who know everything, would have done so. Oppo- site is another ; but this one bears an inscription and much it requires it, for even you yourself would not be able to discover, in the hard and unmeaning marble, the stern countenance of Benigne Bossuet. I saw his episco- pal throne, which is of very fine wainscoting, in the style of Louis the Fourteenth ; but, being pressed for time, I was not able to visit his famed cabinet at the Bishop's. Here is a strange fact. There was a theatre at Mftaux before there was one at Paris, which, as is written in a local manuscript, was constructed in 1547. Pieces of a mysterious nature were represented. A man of the name of Pascalus played the Devil, and ever afterwards retained the name. In 1562 he delivered up the city to the Hu- guenots ; and in the year following the Catholics hung him, partly because he had delivered up the city, but JO PHILIPPE LK BEL. chiefly, perhaps, on account of his appellation, "LeDiable." At present there are twenty theatres in Paris, but there is not a single one here. It is said that the good people of Meaux boast of this, which is to be proud that Meaux is not Paris. This country abounds with the age of Louis XIV. . here, the Duke of Saint Simon ; at Meaux, Bossuet ; at La Ferte-Milon, Racine ; at Chateau- Thierry, La Fon- taine all within a range of twelve miles. The great seigneur is neighbour to the great archbishop, and tragedy is elbowing fable. On going out of the cathedral I found that the sun had hid himself, which circumstance enabled me to examine the fa9ade. The pediment of the central doorway is the most curious : the inferior compartment represents Jeanne, wife of Philippe-le-Bel, from the deniers of whom the church was built after her death. The Queen of France, her cathedral in her hand, is represented at the gates of Paradise ; St. Peter has opened the folding doors to her : behind the queen is the handsome King Philippe, with a sad and rueful countenance. The queen, who is gorge- ously attired and exceedingly well sculptured, points out to St. Peter the pauvre diable of a king, and, with a side look and shrug of the shoulder, seems to say " Bah ! allow him to pass into the bargain." MONTMIRA1 LETTER II. MONTMIRAIL MONTMORT EPERNAY. Montmirail Castle. Vaux Champs. The rencontre and reflections thereupon. Montmort Castle. Mademoiselle Jeannette. The churches and curiosities of Epernay. Anecdote of Strozzi and Brisquet, Henry the Second's Fool. HIRED the first carriage I met atFerte- sous- Jouarre, at the same time asking one question " Are the wheels in good order ? " On being answered in the affirmative, I set out for Montmirail. There is nothing of interest in this little town, except a pleasing landscape at the end of an avenue, and two beautiful walks bordered with trees ; all the buildings, the Chateau excepted, have a paltry and mean appearance. On Monday, about five o'clock in the evening, I left Montmirail, and, directing; my way towards Epernay, was an hour afterwards at Vaux-Champs. A few moments before crossing the far-famed field of battle, I met a cart rather strangely laden ; it was drawn by a horse and an 12 THE EMIGRANTS. ass, and contained pans, kettles, old trunks, straw-bot- tomed chairs, with a heap of old furniture. In front, in a sort of basket, were three children, almost in a state of nudity ; behind, in another, were several hens. The driver wore a blouse, was walking, and carried a child on his back ; a few steps from him was a woman, also bearing a child, but it was not yet born. They were all hastening towards Montmirail, as if the great battle of 1814 were on the eve of being fought. " Yes," I said to myself, " twenty-five years ago how many poor families were seen flying from place to place !" I was informed, however, that this was not a removal it was an expatriation. It was not to Montmirail they were going it was to America ; they were not flying at the sound of the trumpet of war they were hurrying from misery and starvation. In a word, my dear friend, it was a family of poor Alscian peasants, who were emi- grating. They could not obtain a living in their native land, but had been promised one in Ohio. They were leaving their country, ignorant of the sublime and beau- tiful verses that Virgil had written upon them two thou- sand years ago. These poor people were travelling in seeming cheer- fulness : the husband was making a thong for his whip, the wife singing, and the children playing ; the furniture had something about it of wretchedness and of disorder which caused pain ; the hens even appeared to me to feel their sad condition. The indifference of the heads of the family astonished me; I really thought that, in leaving the country in which we first see light, which links our hearts to so many MONTMORT CASTLE. 13 sweet associations, we should, on taking a last look, shed a tear to the memory of the scenes of our childhood to the land which contained the mouldering ashes of our forefathers: but these people seemed regardless of all this ; their minds were set upon the country in which they hoped to obtain a livelihood. I looked after them for some time. Where was that jolting and stumbling group going ? ay, and where am I going ? They came to a turn in the road, and disap- peared ; for some time I heard the cracking of the whip, and the song of the woman then all was quiet. A few minutes afterwards I was in the glorious plains where the Emperor had once been. The sun was setting, the trees were reflecting their long shadows, the furrows which could be traced here and there had a lightish appearance, a blueish mist was at the bottom of the ravine, the fields seemed deserted ; nothing could be seen but two or three ploughs in the distance, which appeared to the eye like huge grasshoppers. To my left was a stone-quarry, where there were large millstones, some white and new, others old and blackened ; here, were some lying pell- mell on the ground there, a few standing erect, like the men of an enormous draught-board when upset. I determined upon seeing the castle of Montmort, which was about four leagues from Montmirail ; I took the Epernay road. There are sixteen tall elms, perhaps the most beautiful in the world, whose foliage hangs over the road and rustles above the head of the passenger. In travelling there is no tree pleases me so much as the elm ; it alone appears fantastical, and laughs at its neighbour, overturning all as it bends its head, and making all kinds c 14 INTERIOR OF MONTMORT CASTLE. of grimaces to the passers-by in the evening. The foliage of the young elm may be said to spring forth when your eyes are fixed upon it. From Ferte to the place where the sixteen elms are seen, the road is bordered only with poplars, aspens, and walnut-trees, which circumstance did not at all please me. The country is flat, the plain extending far beyond the range of the eye. Suddenly, on leaving a group of trees, we see on the right, half hidden in a declivity, a number of turrets, weathercocks, and housetops it is the castle of Montmort. My cabriolet stopped, and I alighted before the door of the castle. It is an exquisite fortress of the sixteenth cen- tury, built of brick, with slate- work ; it has a double enceinte, a moat, a three- arched bridge, and a village at its foot : all around is pleasant, and the castle commands a most extensive view. It has a winding staircase for men, and a rampe for horses. Below, there is also an old iron door, which leads to the embrasures of the tower, where 1 saw four small engines of the fifteenth century. The garrison of the fortress at present consists of an old servant, Mademoiselle Jeannette, who received me with the greatest civility. Of the apartments of the inte- rior, there are only remaining a kitchen, a very fine vaulted room with a large mantelpiece, the great hall (which is now made a billiard-room), and a charming little cabinet, with gilt wainscoting. The great hall is a mag- nificent chamber : the ceiling, with its beams painted, gilded, and sculptured, is still entire ; the mantelpiece, surmounted by two noble-looking statues, is of the finest style of Henry the Third. The walls were in former times EPERNAY. 15 covered with vast squares of tapestry, on which were the portraits of the family. At the revolution a few daring individuals of the neighbouring village tore down the ta- pestries and burnt them, which was a fatal blow to feu- dalism ; the proprietor replaced them with old engravings, representing views of Rome and of the battles of the great Conde. On leaving, I gave thirty sous to Mademoiselle Jeannette, who was bewildered with my bounty. Night was coming on when I left Montmort. The road is one of the most detestable in the world. It leads into a wood which I entered, and consequently I saw nothing of Epernay but colliers' huts, the smoke of which was forcing its way among the branches of the trees ; the red mouth of a distant furnace appeared for a few mo- ments, and the whistling wind agitated the leaves around. Above my head, in the heavens, the splendid chariot was making its voyage in the midst of stars, whilst my poor patache was jogging along among pebbles. Epernay yes, it is the town for champagne ; nothing more, nothing less. Three churches have succeeded each other ; the first, a Roman church, was built in 1037, by Thibautthe First Count of Champagne, and son of Eudes ; the second, a church of the Renaissance, was built in 1540, by Pierre Strozzi, marshal of France, Seigneur d' Epernay, who was killed at the siege of Thionville, in 1558 ; the third, the present one, appeared to me to be built from the de- sign of Monsieur Poterlet-Galichet, a worthy merchant, whose shop and name are close to the church. All three are admirably described and summed up by these names : Thibaut the First, Count of Champagne ; Pierre Strozzi, Marshal of France ; and Poterlet- Galichet, grocer. 16 STROZZI AND BR1SQUET. To tell you the truth, the last-mentioned church is a hideous building, plastered white, and has a heavy ap- pearance, with triglyphs supporting the architrave. There is nothing left of the first church ; and of the second, but a few fine large stained windows, and an exquisite fa9ade. One of the windows gives the history of Noah with great naivete. The window-frames and fa9ade are daubed with the hideous plaster of the new church. It seemed to me as if I saw Odry, with his short white trousers, his blue stockings, and his large shirt-collar, carrying the casque and cuirass of Francis the First. They wished to show me the curiosity of the country a great cellar, which contains 100,000 bottles. On my way, I came in sight of a field of turnips, where poppies were in flower and butterflies sporting in the rays of the sun. I went no farther the great cave could well spare my visit. I forgot to mention that Thibaut the First was interred in his church, and Strozzi in his : however, I should de- cidedly disapprove of M. Poterlot-Galichet having a place in the present one. Strozzi was rather what may be termed a brave man. Brisquet, the fool of Henry the Second, amusing himself one day, greased, before the whole court, a very handsome cloak that the marshal had put on for the first time. This excited much laughter, and Strozzi resorted to a most cruel revenge. For me, I would not have laughed, nor would I have avenged myself. To bedaub a velvet coat with grease ! I have never been over-delighted with this pleasantry of the sixteenth century. LETTER III. CHACONS. SAINTE MENEHOULD. VARENNES. The reverie. The arrest of Louis the Sixteenth. The salutation and its effects. The signboard. Notre Dame at Chalons. Antiquarian forgetfulness. The inscription. The watchman, wife, and gnome son. Abbey of Notre Dame de 1'Epine. The storm. Metz hotel. The sleeping canary. A host and hostess. Champagne and the signification of Champenois. Madame Sabliere and La Fontaine. ESI 3RD AY, at the decline of day, my cabriolet was rapidly rolling by Sainte Menehould, at which time I was reading these sublime and beauti- ful lines " Mugitusque bourn mollesque sub arbore somni. ******* Speluncae vivique lacus." * I remained for some time leaning upon my book. My soul was full of those vague ideas sad, yet sweet which the rays of a setting sun generally awaken in my mind, when the noise of the carriage -wheels on the causeway awoke me from my reverie. We were entering a town ; but what town was it? The coachman replied, "It is Varennes." We traversed a street which had sorne- c 3 18 VARENNES. thing grave and melancholy in its appearance ; the doors and shutters of the houses were closed, and grass was grow- ing in the courts. Suddenly, after having passed an old gateway of the time of Louis the Thirteenth, we entered a triangular square, surrounded with small white houses, of one story high. Louis the Sixteenth, on his flight in 1791, was arrested in this square by Drouet, the postmaster of Sainte Menehould. There was then no post at Varennes. I descended from my carriage, and for some time kept looking at this little square, which, to the man who does not think of past events, has a dull appearance ; but to him who does, it has a sinister one. It is reported here that Louis, when arrested, pro- tested so strongly that he was not the king (what Charles the First would never have done), that the people, half inclined to credit his statement, were about to release him, when a Monsieur Eth, who had a secret hatred against the court, appeared. This person, like a Judas Iscariot, said to the king " Good day, Sire." This was enough. The king was seized. There were five of the royal family in the carriage with him ; and the miserable, with these words, effected their downfall. " Bon jour, Sire," was for Louis the Sixteenth, for Marie Antoinette, and for Madame Elisabeth, the guillo- tine ; for the Dauphin, the agony of the Temple; and for Madame Royale, exile and the extinction of her race. Varennes is about fifteen leagues from Rheims that is to say, for my coachman ; to the mind there is an abyss the revolution. I put up for the night at a very ancient-looking auberge, CHURCH AT VARENNES. 19 which had the portrait of ^ouis Philippe above the door, with the words inscribed " Au Grand Monarque." During the last hundred years, most probably, Louis the Fifteenth, Buonaparte, and Charles the Tenth, had each figured in his turn. Louis the Sixteenth was, perhaps, arrested at the Grand Monarque, and, on looking up, saw the portrait of himself Pauvre Grand Monarque ! This morning I took a walk into the town, which is very pleasantly situated upon the banks of a very pretty river. The old houses of the high town, seen from the right bank, form a very picturesque amphitheatre ; but the church, which is in the low town, is truly insig- nificant. It is within sight of my inn, and I can see it from the table at which 1 write. The steeple is dated 1766, exactly a year before Madame Royale was born. I visited the church ; and if I did not find that all I expected, I found what I did not expect that is, a very pretty Notre Dame at Chalons. What have the antiqua- ries been thinking of, when, speaking of Sainte Etienne, they never breathed a word about Notre Dame. The Notre Dame of Chalons is a Eoman church, with arched, roofs, and a superb spire bearing the date of the four- teenth century. In the middle is a lantern crowned with small pinions. A beautiful coup d'oeil is afforded here (a pleasure which I enjoyed) of the town, the Marne, and the surrounding hills. The traveller may also admire the splendid windows of Notre Dame, and a rich portail of the thirteenth century. In 1793 the people of this place broke the windows and pulled down the statues ; 20 THE WATCHMAN. they also destroyed the lateral gateway of the cathedral, and all the sculpture that was within their reach. Notre Dame had four spires, three of which are demolished. It testifies the height of stupidity, which is nowhere so evi- dent as here. The French revolution was a terrible one ; the revolution Champenoise was attended with acts of the greatest folly. In the lantern I found engraved on the lead an in- scription, apparently in the writing of the sixteenth century " Le 28 Aoftt, 1508, la paix a ete publiee a Chal .." This inscription, which is partly defaced, and which no one has sought to decipher, is all that remains of that great political act, of that great event, the concluding of peace between Henry the Third and the Huguenots, by the in- tercession of the Duke of Anjou, previously Duke of Alen9on. The Duke of Anjou was the king's brother, and had an eye upon the Pays Bas and pretensions to the hand of Elizabeth of England ; but the war with the re- ligious sects which succeeded thwarted him in his plans. That peace, that happy event, proclaimed at Chalons in 1580, was forgotten by the whole world on the 22d July, 1839. The person who conducted me to this lantern was the watchman of the town, who passed his life in the guette, a little box with four small windows. His box and lad- der are to him a universe ; he is the eye of the town, always open, always awake. Perpetual insomnia would be somewhat impossible. True, his wife helps him. Every night at twelve o'clock he goes to NOTRE DAME DB l/EPINE. 21 sleep, and she goes to watch ; at noon they again change places : thus performing their rounds by each other's side without coming in contact, except for a minute at noon and another at midnight. A little gnome, rather comically shaped, and whom they call their son, is the result of the tangent. There are three churches at Chalons : St. Alpin, St. Jean, and St. Loup. About two leagues from Chalons, upon the Sainte Menehould road, the magnificent Abbey of Notre Dame de 1'Epine suddenly appears before you. I remained up- wards of two hours in this church, rambling round and round. The wind was blowing strongly. I held my hat with both hands, and stood, my eyes filled with dust, ad- miring the beauties of the edifice. I continued my route, and after travelling three miles we came to a village where the inhabitants were celebrat- ing, with music and dancing, the fete of the place. On leaving I perceived, on the summit of a hill, a mean-look- ing white house, upon the top of which was a telescope, shaped like an enormous black insect, corresponding with Notre Dame de 1'Epine. The sun was setting, the twilight approaching, and the sky was cloudy ; from the end of the plain I looked at the hills, which were half- covered with heath, like a ca- mail d'evdque, and, on turning my head, saw a flock of geese that were cackling joyously. "We are going to have rain," the coachman said. I looked up : the half of the western sky was shrouded in an immense black cloud ; the wind became boisterous ; the hemlock in flower was levelled with the ground ; and 22 THE STORM. the trees seemed to speak in a voice of terror. A few moments expired : the rain poured down in torrents; and all was darkness, save a beam of light which escaped from the declining sun. There was not a creature to be heard or seen neither man upon the road, nor bird in the air. Loud peals of thunder shook the heavens, and brilliant flashes of lightning contrasted wildly with the prevailing darkness. A blast of wind at length dispersed the clouds towards the east, and the sky became pure and calm. On arriving at Sainte Menehould the stars were shin- ing brightly. This is a picturesque little town, with its houses built at random upon the summit of a green hill, and surmounted by tall trees. I saw one thing worthy of remark at Sainte Menehould that is, the kitchen at the hotel of Metz. It may be well termed a kitchen : one of the walls is covered with pans, the other with crockery ; in the middle, opposite the window, is a splendid fire and an enormous chimney ; all kinds of baskets and lamps hang from the ceiling ; by the chimney are the jacks, spits, pot-hangers, kettles, and pans of all forms and sizes : the shining hearth reflects light in all corners of the room, throwing a rosy hue on the crockery, causing the edifice of copper to shine like a wall of brass, while the ceiling is crowded with fantastic shadows. If I were a Homer or a Rabelais, I would say, " That kitchen is a world, and the fireplace is its sun." It is indeed a world a republic consisting of men, women, and children ; male and female servants, scul- lions and waiters ; frying-pans over chafing-dishes ; pots THE CANARY. 23 and kettles; children playing, cats and dogs mewing and barking, with the master overlooking all ; mens aglt at molem. In a corner is a clock, which gravely warns the occupants that time is ever on the wing. Among the innumerable things which hung from the ceiling, there was one which interested me more than all the others a small cage, in which a canary was sleep - ing. The poor creature seemed to me to be a most ad- mirable emblem of confidence ; notwithstanding the un- wholesomeness of the den, the furnace, the frightful kitchen, which is day and night filled with uproar, the bird sleeps. A noise, indeed, is made around it the men swear, the women quarrel, the children cry, the dogs bark, the cats mew, the clock strikes, the water-cock spouts, the bottles burst, the diligences pass under the arched roof, making a noise like thunder, yet the eye- lid of the feathered inhabitant moves not. A propos, I must declare that people generally speak too harshly of inns, and I myself have often been the first to do so. An auberge, take it all in all, is a very good thing, and we are often very glad to find one. Besides, I have often remarked that there is almost in all auberges an agreeable landlady ; as for the host, let turbulent tra- vellers have him give me the hostess The former is a being of a morose and disagreeable nature, the latter cheerful and amiable. Poor woman ! sometimes she is old, sometimes in bad health, and very often exceedingly bulky. She comes and goes ; is here and there this moment at the heels of the servants, the next one chas- ing the dogs : she compliments the travellers, stimulates the head servant; smiles to one, scolds another; stirs the 24 CLERMONT. fire ; takes up this, and sends away that ; in fact, she is the soul of that great body called an auberge, the host being fit for nothing but drinking in a corner with wag- goners. The fair hostess of La Ville de Metz, at St. Menehould, is a young woman about sixteen years of age, is exceedingly active, and she conducts her household affairs with the greatest regularity and precision. The host, her father, is an exception to the general run of inn- keepers, being a very intelligent and worthy man ; in all, this is an excellent auberge. I left Sainte Menehould, and pursued my way to Cler- mont. The road between those towns is charming ; on both sides is a chaos of trees, whose green leaves glitter in the sun, and cast their detached and irregular shadows on the highway. The villages have something about them of a Swiss and German appearance, white stone houses, with large slate roofs projecting three or four feet from the wall. I felt that I was in the neighbourhood of moun- tains : the Ardennes, in fact, are here. Before arriving at the borough of Clermont we pass an admirable valley, where the Marne and Meuse meet. The road is betwixt two hills, and is so steep that we see nothing before us but an abyss of foliage. Clermont is a very handsome village, headed by a church, and surrounded with verdure. My friend, in glancing over this letter I find that I have made use of the word Ckampenois, which, by some proverbial acceptation, is somewhat ironical ; you must not mistake the sense which I affix to it. The proverb more familiar, perhaps, than it is applicable speaks of Champagne as Madame la Sabliere spoke of La Fon- CHAMPAGNE. 25 taine "That he was a man of stupid genius," which expression is applied to a genius of Champagne. That, however, neither prevents La Fontaine from being an admirable poet, nor Champagne from being a noble and illustrious country. Virgil might have spoken of it, as he did of Italy " Alma parens frugum, Alma virum.*' Champagne is the birthplace, the country of Amyot that bonhomme who took up the theme of Plutarch, as La Fontaine did that of ^Esop ; of Thibaut IV., who asked nothing better than being the father of Saint Louis ; of Charlier de Gerson, who was chancellor of the university of Paris ; of Amadis, Jamyn, Colbert, Diderot ; of two painters, Lantare and Valentin ; of two sculptors, Girar- don and Bouchardon ; of two historians, Flodoard and Mabillon ; of two cardinals full of genius, Henry de Lor- raine and Paul de Gondi ; of two popes full of virtue, Martin the Fourth and Urban the Fourth ; of a king full of glory, Phillipe- Auguste. Champagne is a powerful province, and there is no town or village in it that has not something remarkable. Rheims, which owns the cathedral of cathedrals, was the place where Clovis was baptized. It was at Andelot that the interview between Gontran king of Bourgogne, and Childebert king of Austrasie, took place. Hinemar took refuge at Epernay, Abailard at Provim, Heloise at Pa- raclet. The Gordiens triumphed at Langres, and in the middle age its citizens destroyed the seven formidable castles, Chagney, Saint Broing, Neuilly Cotton, Cobons, Bourg, Humes, and Pailly. The league was concluded D 26 SOUVENIRS OF CHAMPAGNE. at Joinville in 1584 ; Henry the Fourth was protected at Chalons in 1591 ; the Prince of Orange was killed at Saint Dizier ; Sezenne is the ancient place of arms of the Dukes of Bourgogne ; Ligny 1'Abbaye was founded in the domains of Seigneur Chatillon, by Saint Bernard , who promised the Seigneur as many perches of land in heaven as the Sire had given him upon earth. Mouzon is the fief of the Abbot of Saint Hubert, who sends six coursing dogs, and the same number of birds of prey, every year to the king of France. Champagne retains the empreinte of our ancient kings Charles the Simple for the sirerie at Attigny ; Saint Louis and Louis the Fourteenth, the devout king and the great king, first lifted arms in Champagne ; the former in 1228, when raising the siege of Troyes the latter in 1652, at Sainte Menehould. The ancient annals of Champagne are not less glorious than the modern. The country is full of sweet souvenirs Merovee and the Francs, Actius and the Romans, Theo- doric and the Visigoths, Mount Jules and the tomb of Jovinus. Antiquity here lives, speaks, and cries out to the traveller, " Sta, viator ! " From the days of the Romans to the present day, the towns of Champagne, surrounded at times by the Alains, the Sueves, the Vandals, and the Germans, would have been burnt to the ground, rather than have been given over to the enemy. They are built upon rocks, and have taken for their device u Donee moveantur." In 451 the Huns were destroyed in the plains of Champagne; in 1814, if God had willed it, the Russians would also have met the same fate. ELUCIDATION. 27 Never speak of this province but with respect. How many of its children have been sacrificed for France ! In 1813 the population of one district of Marne consisted of 311,000. In 1830 it had only 309,000, showing that fifteen years of peace have not repaired the loss. But to the explanation : When any one applies the word Mte to Champagne, change the meaning : it signifies naif, simple, rude, primitive, and redoubtable in need. A bUe may be a lion or an eagle. It is what Champagne was in 1814. LETTER IV. FROM VILLERS-COTTERETS TO LA FRONTIERE. The effects of travelling. The retrograde movement. Reflection. The secret of stars. The inscription "I. C." The cathedral where King Pepin was crowned. The prisoner's sad rencontre. Rheims. Church at Mezieres. The effects of a bomb. Sedan and its con- tents. The transpiring events at Turenne's birth. Conversation of a Sir John Falstaff and his better half. Y DEAR FRIEND, I write to-day from Givet, where I arrived at four o'clock in the morning, bruised by the jolting of a frightful vehicle, which the people here call a dili- gence. I stretched myself, dressed as I was, upon a bed, fell asleep, and awoke two hours afterwards. On opening the window of my chamber, with the idea of enjoying the view which it might afford, the only objects which caught my attention were the angle of a little white cottage, a water-spout, and the wheel of a cart. As for my room, it is an immense hall, ornamented with no less than four beds. Since my last letter, a trifling incident, not worth re- lating, caused me to make a retrograde movement from C^SAB, CXOVIS, AMD NAPOLEON. 29 Varennes to Villers-Cotterets ; and the day before yester- day, in order to make up for lost time, I took the diligence for Soissons. There was no passenger but myself, a cir- cumstance which was in no way disconcerting; for it gave me an opportunity of turning over at my ease the pages of some of my favourite authors. As I approached Soissons, day was fast fading, and night had cast its sombre aspect over that beautiful val- ley where the road, after passing the hamlet of La Folie, gradually descends, and leads to the cathedral of Saint- Jean-des-Vignes. Notwithstanding the fog which rose around, I perceived the walls and roofs of the houses of Soissons, with a half-moon peering from behind them. I alighted, and, with a heart fully acknowledging the sub- limity of nature, gazed upon this imposing scene. A grasshopper was chirping in the neighbouring field ; the trees by the road -side were softly rustling ; and I saw, with the mind's eye, peace hovering over the plain, now solitary and tranquil, where Caesar had conquered, Clovls had exercised his authority, aud where Napoleon had all but fallen. It shows that men, even Caesar, Clovis, and Napoleon, are only passing shadows ; and that war is a fantasy which terminates with them ; whilst God and nature, which comes from God and peace, which comes from nature are things of eternity. Determined on taking the Sedan mail, which does not arrive at Soissons till midnight, I allowed the dili- gence to proceed, knowing that I had plenty of time be- fore me. The trctjefwhich separated me from Soissons was only a charming promenade. When a short distance from the town, I sat down near a very pretty little house, D 3 30 THE STARS. upon which the forge of a Vulcan, who lived opposite, shed a faint light. I looked upwards : the heavens were serene and beautiful and the planets, Jupiter, Mars, and Saturn, were shining in the south-east. The former, whose course for three months is somewhat complicated, was between the other two, and was making a perfectly straight line. More to the east was Mars, fiery in his appearance, and imitating the starry constel- lation by a kind of famboiement farouche. A little above, shining softly, and with a white and peaceful appearance, was that monster-planet, the frightful and mysterious world which we call Saturn. On the other side, at the extremity of the view, a magnificent beacon reflected its light on the sombre hills which separate Noyon from Soissonnais. As I was asking myself the utility of such a light in these immense plains, I saw it leaving the border of the hills, bounding through the fog, and mount- ing near the zenith. That beacon was Aldebaran, the three-coloured sun, the enormous purple, silvery, and blue star, which rises majestically in the waste of the crepuscule. O, my friend, what a secret is there then in these stars ! The poetical, the thinking, and the imaginative, have, in turn, contemplated, studied, and admired them : the one, like Zoroaster, in bewilderment the others, like Pytha- gorus, with inexpressible awe. Seth named the stars, as Adam did animals. The Chaldeans and the Geneth- liaques, Esdras and Zorobabel, Orpheus and Homer, Phe- recide, Xenophon, Hecatseus, Herodotus, andThucydides all eyes of the earth, so long shut, so long deprived of light have been fixed from one age to another on those MUSIC OF THE SPHERES. 31 orbs of heaven which are always open, always lighted up, always living. The same planets, the same stars, that fix our attention to-night, have been gazed at by all these men. Job speaks of Orion and of the Pleiades ; Plato listened and distinctly heard the vague music of the spheres ; Pliny thought that the sun was God, and that the spots on the moon were the exhalations of the earth. The poets of Tartary named the pole senisticol, which means an iron nail; Rocoles says, "that the lion might as well have been called the ape ; " Pacuvius would not credit astrologers, under the idea that they would be equal to Jupiter : "Nam si qui, quae eventura sunt, praevideant, ./Equip arent Jovi,'* Favorinus asked himself this question: " Si vitae raortisque hominum rerumque humananim omnium et ratio et causa in ecelo et apud stellasforet ? " Aulus-Gel- lius, sailing from Egine to Piree, sat all night upon the poop, contemplating the stars. " Noxfuit clemens mare, et anni cestas* coehimque liquide serenum ; sedebamus ergo in puppi simul universi et lucentia sidera consider abamus.' Horace himself that practical philosopher that Voltaire of the age of Augustus greater poet, it is true, than the Voltaire of Louis the Fifteenth shuddered when look- ing at the stars, and wrote these terrible lines : " Hunc solem, et stellas et decedentia certis, Tempora momentis sunt qui formidine nulla Imbuti spectant." As for me, I do not fear the stars I love them : still I have never reflected without a certain conviction that .'V2 THE INSCRIPTION " I. C." the normal position of the heavens is night ; and what we call " day " arises from the appearance of a bright lu- minary. We cannot be always looking at immensity ; ecstasy is akin to prayer ; the latter breathes consolation, but the former fatigues and enervates. On taking my eyes from above, I cast them upon the wall facing me ; and even there subject was afforded for meditation and thought. On it were traces, almost entirely effaced, of an an- cient inscription. I could only make out I. C. With- out doubt, they referred either to Pagan or Chris- tian Rome to the city of strength, or to that of faith. I remained my eyes fixed upon the stone, which seemed to become animate lost in vain hypotheses. When I. C. were first known to men, they governed the world ; the second time, they reformed it Julius Caesar and Jesus Christ. Dante, on putting Brutus the murderer, and Judas the traitor, together in the lowest extremity of hell, and causing them to be devoured by Satan, must have been influenced by a similar thought to that which engrossed my whole attention. Three cities are now added to Soissons, the Noviodu- num of the Gauls, the Augusta Suessonium of the Ro- mans, and the old Soissons of Clovis, of Charles the Simple, and of the Duke of Mayenne. Nothing now re- mains of Suessonium but a few ruins ; among others, the ancient temple, which has been converted into the chapel of Saint Pierre. Old Soissons is more fortunate, for it still possesses Saint- Jean -des-Vignes, its ancient castle, and the cathedral where Pepin was crowned in 752. SOISSONS. 33 It was very dark when I entered Soissons ; therefore, instead of looking for Noviodunum or Suessonium, I re- galed myself with a tolerably good supper. Being re- freshed, I went out and wandered about the gigantic silhouette of Saint- Jean-desVignes, and it was twelve o'clock before I returned to the auberge, in which silence and darkness prevailed. Suddenly, however, a noise broke upon my ear ; it was the arrival of the mail-coach, which stopped a few paces from my inn. There was only one vacant place, which I took ; and was on the point of installing myself, when a strange uproar cries of women, noise of wheels, and trampling of horses broke out in a dark narrow street ad- joining. Although the driver stated that he would leave in five minutes, I hurried to the spot; and, on entering the little street, saw, at the base of a huge wall, which had the odious and chilling aspect peculiar to prisons, a low arched door, which was open. A few paces farther on, a mournful-looking vehicle, stationed between two gen- darmes onhorseback, was half hid in the obscurity; and near the wicket four or five men were struggling and endea- vouring to force a woman, who was screaming fearfully, into the carriage. The dim light of a lantern, which was carried by an old man, cast a lugubrious glare upon the scene. The female, a robust countrywoman about thirty years of age, was fiercely struggling with the men strik- ing, scratching, and shrieking; and when the lamp shone upon the wild countenance and dishevelled hair of the poor creature, it disclosed, melancholy to behold, a striking pic- ture of despair. She at last seized one of the iron bars of the wicket; but the men, with a violent effort, forced her from 34 THE CRIMINALS. it, and carried her to the cart. This vehicle, upon which the lantern was then shining, had no windows, small holes drilled in front supplied their place. There was a door at the back part, which was shut, and guarded by large bolts of iron. When opened, the interior of the carriole disclosed a sort of box, without light, almost without air. It was divided into oblong compartments by a thick board, the one having no communication with the other, and the door shutting both at the same time. One of the cells, that to the left, was empty, but the right one was occupied. In the angle, squatted like a wild beast, was a man if a kind of spectre, with a broad face, a flat head, large temples, grizzled hair, short legs, and dressed in a pair of old torn trousers and tattered coat, may be called one. The legs of the wretched man were closely chained to- gether ; a shoe was on his right foot, while his left, which was enveloped in linen stained with blood, was partly ex- posed to view. This creature, hideous to the sight, who was eating a piece of black bread, paid no attention to what was going on around him ; nor did he look up to see the wretched companion that was brought him. The poor woman was still struggling with the men, who were en- deavouring to thrust her into the empty cell, and was cry- ing out " No, I shall not ! Never never ! kill me sooner never !" In one of her convulsions she cast her eyes into the ve- hicle ; and on perceiving the prisoner she suddenly ceased crying: her legs trembled, her whole frame shook, and she exclaimed, with a stifled voice, but with an ex- pression of anguish that I shall never forget BRAINE-SUR-VESLE. 35 "Oh, that man !" The prisoner looked at her with a confused yet ferocious air. I could resist no longer. It was clear that she had committed some unlawful crime perhaps robbery, perhaps worse ; that the gendarmes were trans- porting her from one place to another in one of those odious vehicles metaphorically called by the gamins of Paris " paniers a salade;" but she was a woman, and I thought it my duty to interfere. I called to the galley- sergeant, but he paid no attention to me. A worthy gendarme, however, stepped forward, and, proud of his little authority, demanded my passport. Unfortunately I had just locked up that essentielm my trunk, and, whilst entering into explanations, the jailors made a powerful effort, plunged the woman half-dead into the cart, shut the door, pushed the bolts, and when I turned round all had left, and nothing was heard but the rattling of the wheels and the trampling of the escort. A few minutes afterwards I was comfortably seated in a carriage drawn by four excellent horses. I thought of the wretched woman, and I contrasted, with an aching- heart, my situation with hers. In the midst of such thoughts I fell asleep. When I awoke, morning was breaking ; we were in a beautiful valley, perhaps that of Braine-sur-Vesle. Venus was shining above our heads, and its rays cast a serenity and an inexpressible melancholy upon the fields and woods it was a celestial eye which opened upon this sleeping and lovely country. Fpom Rheims to Rethel there is nothing interesting, and the latter place affords little worthy of remark. 36 THE BOMB. On arriving at Mezieres I anxiously looked on all sides for the ruins of the ancient castle of Hellebarde, but could not perceive them. The church of Mezieres is of the fifteenth century, and has, to the right and left of the choir, two bas-reliefs of the time of Charles the Eighth. On the north of the apside I perceived an inscription upon the wall, which testified that Mezieres was cruelly assailed and bombarded by the Prussians in 1815 ; and above it these words: ' ' Lector leva oculos ad fornicem et vide quasi quoddam divinte manus indicium." I raised my eyes and saw a large rent in the vault above my head, and in it an enormous bomb, which, after having pierced the roof of the church, the timber- work, and the masonry, was thus stopped, as if by miracle, when about to fall upon the pavement. Twenty- five years have now expired, and still it remains in the same position. That bomb, and that wide rent which is above the head of the visitor, produce a very strange effect, which is heightened upon reflecting that the first bomb made use of in war was at Mezieres, in the year 1521. On the other side of the church another inscrip- tion informs us that the nuptials of Charles the Ninth with Elizabeth of Austria were happily celebrated in this church, on the 17th November, 1570, two years before Saint Bartholomew. The grand portail is of this epoch, and, consequently, noble in appearance, and of a refined taste. As for Mezieres there are some very tall trees upon its ramparts ; the streets are clean, and remarkable for their dullness ; there is nothing about the town that re- TRANSPIRING EVENTS AT TURENNE'S BIRTH. 37 markable for their dullness, there is nothing about the town that reminds us of Hellebarde and Garinus, the founders ; Balthazar, who ransacked it ; Count Hugo, who ennobled it ; or of Foulques and Adalberon, who besieged it. It was near noon when I arrived at Sedan, and, instead of seeing monuments and edifices, I saw what the town contains pretty women, handsome carabiniers, cannons, and trees and prairies along the Meuse. I tried to find some vestiges of M. de Turenne, but did not succeed. The pavilion where he was born is demolished, but a black stone, with the following inscription, supplies its place : "Ici NAQUIT TURENNE LE ii SEPTEMBRE MDCXI." The date, which is in prominent gold letters, struck me, and my mind reverted to that eventful period. In 1611 Sully retired ; Henry the Fourth was assassinated the preceding year ; Louis the Thirteenth, who should have died as his father did, on the 14th of May, was then ten years old ; Richelieu was in his 26th year ; the good people of Rouen called a man Petit Pierre who was after- wards named by the universe le Grand Corneille ; Shak- speare and Cervantes were living, so were Branthome and Pierre Mathieu. In 1611 Papirien Masson and Jean Bus6e breathed their last ; Gustave Adolphe suc- ceeded the visionary monarch Charles the Ninth of Sweden ; Philippe the Third, in spite of the advice of the Duke of Osunna, drove the Moors from Spain ; and the German astronomer, Jean Fabricius, discovered the spots on the sun. Such are the events lhat were transpiring 38 CONVERSATION OF A Sill JOHN FALSTAFF. in the world when Turenne was born. Sedan has not been a pious guardian of his memory, nor, in fact, has it in its annals any souvenirs of William de la Marck, the Boar of Ardennes, the frightful predecessor of Turenne. After having made a good breakfast in the Hotel de la Croix d'Or, I decided on returning on foot to Mezieres, to take the coach for Givet. The distance is five leagues, but the road is truly picturesque, running along the valley of the Meuse. About a league from Sedan we meet Donchery, with its old wooden bridge and fine trees; villages with smiling urchins ; chatelets shrouded in mas- sive verdure ; and large prairies, where sheep and oxen are grazing in the sun. I arrived at Mezieres at seven in the evening, and at eight, seated in a miserable coupt, between a Sir John Falstaff and a female who might well have passed for his better half, set out for Givet. The two gros dtres began to converse, and spoke of events as striking as they were stirring, such as, " that it is now twenty -two years since I was at Rocroy," "that M. Crochard, the secretary of the under -prefecture, is his intimate friend" " that, as it is twelve at night, the good Mons. Crochard must be in bed." Day dawned. We approached a drawbridge, which was lowered, and shortly afterwards we entered into a narrow street, that led into a court, where servants came running with candles in their hands, and grooms with lanterns. I was at Givet. LETTER V. GIVET. Flemish Architects Little Gi vet The Inscription Jose Gutierez. The Peasant- Girl. HIS is an exceedingly pretty town, situated on the Meuse, which sepa- rates Great from Little Givet, and is headed by a ridge of rocks, at the summit of which is the fort of Char- lemont. The auberge, called the Ho- tel of the Golden Mount, is very comfortable, and tra- vellers may find refreshments there, which, though not the most exquisite, are palatable to the hungry, and a bed, though not'the softest in the world, highly accept- able to the weary. The steeple of Little Givet is of simple construction ; that of Great Givet is more complicated more recherche. The worthy architect, in planning the latter, had, with- out doubt, recourse to the following mode : He took a priest's square cap, on which he placed, bottom upwards, a large plate; above this plate a sugar-loaf ^headed E'2 40 GIVET. with a bottle, a steel spike thrust into its neck ; and on the spike he perched a cock, the pnrport of which was to inform its beholders th way that the wind blew. Sup- posing that he took a day to each idea, he therefore must have rested the seventh. This artist was certainly Flemish. About two centuries ago Flemish architects imagined that nothing could exceed in beauty gigantic pieces of slate, resembling kitchen-ware, so, when they had a steeple to build, they profited by the occasion, and decked their towns with a host of colossal plates. Nevertheless, a view of Givet still has charms, espe- cially if taken towards evening from the middle of the bridge. When I viewed it, night, which helps to screen the foolish acts of man, had begun to cast its mantle over the contour of this singularly-built steeple ; smoke was hovering about the roofs of the houses ; at my left, the elms were softly rustling ; to my right, an ancient tower was reflected in the bosom of the Meuse ; further on, at the foot of the redoubtable rock of Charlemont, I de- scried, like a white line, a long edifice, which I found to be nothing more than an uninhabited country-house ; above the town, the towers, and steeples, an immense ridge of rocks hid the horizon from my sight ; and in the distance, in a clear sky, the half-moon appeared with so much purity with so much of heaven in it that I ima- gined that God had exposed to our view part of his nuptial ring, to testify his wedded affection to man. Next day I determined to visit the venerable turret which crowned, in seeming respect, Little Givet. The road is steep, and commands the services of both hands JOSE GUTIERBZ. 41 and feet. After some inconsiderable trouble, and no slight labour of all-fours, I reached the foot of the tower, which is fast falling into ruin, where I found a huge door, secured by a large padlock. I knocked and shouted, but no one answered, so I was obliged to descend without gratifying my curiosity. My pains, however, were not altogether lost, for, on passing the old edifice, I discovered among the rubbish, which is daily crumbling into dust and falling into the stream, a large stone, on which were the vestiges of an inscription. I examined them at- tentively, but could only make out the following letters : "LOQVB . . . SA . L . OMBRE PARAS . . . MODI . SL . ACAV . P . . . SOTROS." Above these letters, which seem to have been scratched with a nail, the signature, " IOSE GVITEBEZ, 1643," re- mained entire. Inscriptions, from boyhood, always interested me ; and I assure you, this one opened up a vein of thought and enquiry. What did this inscription signify ? in what language was it written ? By making some allowance for orthography, one might imagine that it was French ; but, on considering that the words para and otros were Spanish, I concluded that it must have been written in Castilian. After some reflection, I imagined that these were the original words : "LO QUE EMPESA EL HOMBRE PARA SIMISMO DIOS LE ACAVA PARA LOS OTROS." ''What man begins for himself, God finishes for others.'' E3 42 JOSE GUTIEREZ But who was this Gutierez ? The stone had evidently been taken from the interior of the tower. It was in 1643 that the battle of Rocroy was fought. Was Jose Gutierez, then, one of the vanquished ? had he been taken prisoner and shut up in the tower ? and had he, to while away the long and tiresome days, written on the wall of his dungeon the melancholy resume of his life and of that of all mankind " Ce que V homme commence pour lui, Dieu Vacheve pour les autres ? " At five o'clock next morning, alone, and comfortably seated on the banquette of the diligence Van Gend, I left la France by the route of Namur. We proceeded by the only chain of mountains of which Belgium can boast ; for the Meuse, by continuing to flow in opposition to the abaissement of the plateau of Ardennes, succeeded in forming a plain which is now called Flanders a plain to which nature has refused mountains for its protection, but which man has studded with fortresses. After an ascension of half an hour, the horses became fatigued, the conducteur thirsty, and they (I might say we), with one accord, stopped before a small wine-shop, in a poor but picturesque village, built on the two sides of a ravine cut through the mountains. This ravine, which is at one time the bed of a torrent, and at another the leading street of the village, is paved with the granite of the surrounding mountains. When we were passing, six harnessed horses proceeded, or rather climbed, along that strange and frightfully steep street, drawing after them a large empty vehicle with four wheels. If it had been laden, I am persuaded that it would have re- A PEASANT -GIRL 43 quired twenty horses to have drawn it. I can in no way account for the use of such carriages in this ravine, if they are not meant to serve as sketches for young Dutch paint- ers, whom we meet here and there upon the road a bag upon their back, and a stick in their hand. What can a person do on the outside of a coach but gaze at all that comes within his view. I could not be better situated for such a purpose. Before me was the greater portion of the valley of the Meuse ; to the south were the two Givets, graciously linked by their bridge ; to the west was the tower of Egmont, half in ruins, which was casting behind it an immense shadow ; to the north were the sombre trenches into which the Meuse was emptying itself, from whence a light blue vapour was arising. On turning my head, my eyes fell upon a handsome peasant-girl, who was sitting by the open win- dows of a cottage, dressing herself; and above the hut of the paysanne, but almost lost to view, were the formida- ble batteries of Charlemont, which crowned the frontiers of France. Whilst I was contemplating this coup d'ceil, the pea- ant girl lifted her eyes, and on perceiving me, she smiled ; saluted me graciously ; then, without shutting the window or appearing disconcerted, she continued her toilette. LETTER VI THE BANKS OF THE MEUSE DINANT NAMUR. The Lesse. A Flemish Garden. The Mannequin. The Tombstone. Athletic Demoiselles. Signboards and their utility. HAVE just arrived at Liege. The route from Givet, following the course of the Meuse, is highly picturesque; and it strikes me as singular that so little has been said of the banks of this river, for they are truly beautiful and romantic. After passing the cabin of the peasant-girl, the road is full of windings, and during a walk of three quarters of an hour we are in a thick forest, interspersed with ra- vines and torrents. Then a long plain intervenes, at the extremity of which is a frightful yawning a tremendous precipice upwards of three hundred feet in depth. At the foot of the precipice, amidst the brambles which bor- der it, the Meuse is seen meandering peacefully, and on its banks is a chdtelet resembling a patisserie manie- ree, or time-piece, of the days of Louis the Fifteenth, with its decorated walls, and its Lilliputian and fantastical GROTTO OF HANSUB J.ESSE. 45 garden. Nothing is more singularly striking and more ridiculous than this the petty work of man, surrounded by Nature in all her sublimity. One is apt to say that it is a shocking demonstration of the bad taste of man, brought into contrast with the sublime poetry of God. After the gulf, the plain begins again, for the ravine of the Meuse divides it as the rut of a wheel cuts the ground. About a quarter of a league further on, the road be- comes very steep, and leads abruptly to the river. The declivity here is charming. Vine-branches encircle the hawthorn, and crowd both sides of the road. The Meuse at this spot is straight, green in appearance, and runs to the left between two banks thickly studded with trees. A bridge is next seen, then another river, smaller yet equally beautiful, which empties itself into the Meuse. It is the Lesse ; three leagues from which, in a cavity on the right, is the famed grotto of Hansur Lesse. On turning the road, a huge pyramidical rock, sharp- ened like the spire of a cathedral, suddenly appears. The conducteur told me that it was the Roche a Bazard. The road passes between the mountain and this colossal borne , then turns again, and at the foot of an enormous block of granite, crowned with a citadel, a church and a long street of old houses meet the eye. It is Dinant. We stopped here about a quarter of an hour, and ob- served a little garden in the diligence-yard, which is suf- ficient to warn the traveller that he is in Flanders. The flowers in it are very pretty : in the midst are two painted statues, the one represents a woman, or rather a manne- quin, for it is clothed in an Indian gown, with an old silk 46 THE MEU8E. hat. On approaching, an indistinct noise strikes the ear, and a strange spurting of water is perceived under her dress. We then discover that this female is a fountain. After leaving Dinant, the valley extends, and the Meuse gradually widens. On the right hand of the river the ruins of two ancient castles present themselves ; the rocks are now only to be seen here and there under a rich covering of verdure ; and a housse of green velours, bor- dered with flowers, covers the face of the country. On this side are hop -fields, orchards, and trees bur- dened with fruit ; on that, the laden vine is ever appear- ing, amongst whose leaves the feathery tribe are joyously revelling. Here the cackling of ducks is heard, there the chuckling of hens. Young girls, their arms naked to the shoulder, are seen laughingly walking along with loaded baskets on their heads ; and from time to time a village churchyard meets the eye, contrasting strangely with the neighbouring road so full of joy, of beauty, and of life. In one of those churchyards, whose dilapidated walls leave exposed to view the tall grass, green and bloom- ing, mocking, as it were, the once vain mortal that moulders beneath, I read on a tombstone the follow- ing inscription : "O PIE, DEFUNCTIS MISERIS SUCCURRE, VIATOR!" No memento ever had such an effect upon me as this one. Ordinarily, the dead warn there they supplicate. After passing a hill, where the rocks, sculptured by the rain, resemble the half- worn and blackened stones of the old fountain of Luxembourg, we begin to perceive NAMUR. 47 our near approach to Namur. Gentlemen's country seats begin to mix with the abodes of peasants, and the villa is no sooner passed than we come to a village. The diligence stopped at one of these places, where I had on one side a garden well ornamented with colon- nades and Ionic temples ; on the other, a cabaret, at the door of which a number of men and women were drink- ing ; and to the right, upon a pedestal of white marble, veined by the shadows of the branches, a Venus de Me- dicis, half hid among leaves, as if ashamed to be seen, by a group of peasants, in a state of nakedness. A few steps further on were two or three good-look- ing athletic wenches perched upon a plum-tree of consi- derable height, one of them in such a delicate attitude, and so perfectly regardless of those underneath, that she gave many of the travellers in the Imperial a somewhat vague desire to alight. About an hour afterwards we arrived at Namur, which is situated near the junction of the Sombre and the Meuse. The women are pretty, and the men are handsome, and they have something pleasing and affable in the cast of their countenances. As to the town itself, there is nothing re- markable in it ; nor has it anything in its general appear- ance which speaks of its antiquity. There are no monu- ments, no architecture, no edifices worthy of notice ; in fact, Namur can boast of nothing but mean -looking churches and fountains of the mauvais gout of Louis XV. The town is crowned, gloomily and sadly, by the citadel. However, I must say that I looked upon these fortifica- tions with a feeling of respect, for they had once the ho- nour of being attacked byVauban and defended by Cohorn. 48 UTILITY OF SIGNBOARDS. Wherever there are no churches, I always amuse my- self by reading the signs ; for the names of the bourgeois, almost as important to study as those of the nobility, ap- pear above their doors in the most naive form. These three names, taken almost at random from the shops at Namur, have in them separate significations L'Epouse, Debar sy, Negociante. In reading these we feel assured that we are in a town which belonged to the French to-day, to the foreigner to -morrow, and, next day, again to the French ; a town where the language is changed, and has become insensibly denatures French words linked with German awkwardness, into phrases. Crucifex Piret, mercier this speaks of the Catholic religion of Flanders ; for there is not such a name in all France. Menendez- Wodon, horloger a Castilian and a Flemish name joined by a hyphen. Is not this the domination of Spain over the Pays-Bas, written, attested, and related in a proper name ? Thus these three express the general features of the country : the first tells the language, the second the religion, and the last the history. LETTER VII. THE BANKS OF THE MEUSE HUY LIEGE. A chapel of the tenth century. Iron-works of Mr. Cockerill ; their singular appearance. Saint Paul's at Liege. Palace of the Ecclesias- tical Princes of Liege. Significant decorations of a room at Liege. N leaving Namur we enter a mag- nificent avenue of trees, whose foliage serves to hide from our view the town, with its mean and uncouth steeples, which, seen at a distance, have a gro- tesque and singular appearance. After passing those fine trees, the fresh breeze from the Meuse reaches us, and the road begins to wend cheerfully along the river-side. The Meuse widens by the junction of the Sombre, the valley extends, and the double walls of rocks reappear, resembling, now and then, Cyclop fortresses, great dungeons in ruins, and vast Titaniques towers. The rocks of the Meuse contain a great quantity of iron. When viewed in the landscape, they are of a beau- tiful colour ; but broken, they change into that odious greyish-blue which pervades all Belgium. What is mag- 50 HUT. nificent in mountains loses its grandeur when broken and converted into houses. " It is God who formed the rocks ; man is the builder of habitations." We passed hastily through a little village called San- son, near which stand the ruins of a castle, built, it is said, in the days of Clodion. The rocks at this place represent the face of a man, to which the conducteur never fails to direct the attention of the traveller. We then came to the Ardennes, where I observed what would be highly appre - ciated by antiquaries a little rustic church, still entire, of the tenth century. In another village (I think it is Sclayen) we saw the following inscription, in large cha- racters, above the principal door of the church : " LKS CHIENS HORS DK LA MAISON DE DIKU." If I were the worthy curate, I should deem it more im- portant for men to enter than dogs to go out. After passing the Ardennes, the mountains become scattered, and the Meuse, no longer running by the road- side, crosses among prairies. The country is still beauti- ful, but the cJiemin'ee de I'usine that sad obelisk of our civilisation industriette, too often strikes the eye. The road again joins the river : we perceive vast fortifications, like eagles' nests, perched upon rocks ; a fine church of the fourteenth century ; and an old bridge with seven arches. We are at Huy. Huy and Dinant are the prettiest towns upon the Meuse ; the former about half-way between Namur and Liege, the latter half-way between Namur and Givet. Huy, which is at present a redoubtable citadel, was in former times a warlike commune, and held out with valour LITTLE FLEMALLE. 51 a siege with Liege, as Dinant did with Namur. In those heroic times, cities, as kingdoms now, were always de- claring war against each other. After leaving Huy, we from time to time see on the banks of the river a zinc manufactory, which, from its blackened aspect and smoke escaping through the cre- viced roofs, appears to us as if a fire were breaking out, or like a house after a fire had been nearly extinguished. By the side of a bean-field, in the perfume of a little garden, a brick house, with a slate turret, the vine clinging to its walls, doves on the roof, and cages at the windows, strikes the eye we then think of Teniers and of Mieris. The shades of evening approached the wind ceased blowing, the trees rustling and nothing was heard but the rippling of the water. The lights in the adjacent houses burnt dimly, and all objects were becoming ob- scured. The passengers yawned, and said, " we shall be at Liege in an hour." At this moment a singular sight sud- denly presented itself. At the foot of the hills, which were scarcely perceptible, two round balls of fire glared like the eyes of tigers. By the road-side was a frightful chan- delier, twenty-four feet in height, surmounted by a flame, which cast a sombre hue upon the adjoining rocks, forests, and ravines. Nearer the entry of the valley, hid- den in the shade, was a mouth of live coal, which sud- denly opened and shut, and, in the midst of frightful noises, spouted forth a tongue of fire. It was the light- ing of the furnaces. After passing the place called Little Flemalle, the sight was inexpressible was truly magnificent. All the valley seemed to be in a state of conflagration smoke issuing p2 LIBRARY ILLINOIS 52 LIEGE. from this place, and flames arising from that ; in fact, we could imagine that a hostile army had ransacked the country, and that twenty districts presented, in that night of darkness, all the aspects and phases of a con- flagrationsome kindling, some enveloped in smoke, and others surrounded with flames. This aspect of war is caused by peace this frightful symbol of devastation is the effect of industry. The fur- naces of the iron- works of Mr. Cockerill, where cannon is cast of the largest calibre, and steam- engines of the high- est power are made, alone meet the eye. A wild and violent noise comes from this chaos of in- dustry. I had the curiosity to approach one of these frighful places, and I could not help admiring the assi- duity of the workmen. It was a prodigious spectacle, to which the solemnity of the hour lent a supernatural aspect. Wheels, saws, boilers, cylinders, scales all those monstrous implements that are called machines, and to which steam gives a frightful and noisy life rattle, grind, shriek, hiss ; and at times, when the blackened work- men thrust them into the water, they moan like that of hydras and dragons when tormented in hell by de- mons. Liege is one of those old towns which are in a fair way of becoming new deplorable transformation ! one of those towns where things of antiquity are disappearing, leaving in their places white fa9ades, enriched with painted statues ; where the good old buildings, with slated roofs, skylight windows, chiming bells, belfries, and weathercocks, are falling into decay, while gazed at LIEGE. 53 with horror by some thick-headed citizen, who is busy with a Constitutionnel, reading what he does not under- stand, yet pompous with the supposed knowledge which he has attained. The Octroi, a Greek temple, represents a castle flanked with towers, and thick set with pikes ; and the long stalls of the furnaces supply the place of the elegant steeples of the churches. The ancient city was, perhaps, noisy ; the modern one is productive of smoke. Liege has no longer the enormous cathedral of the princes-Svdques, built by the illustrious Bishop Notger in the year 1000, and demolished in 1795 by no one can tell whom ; but it can boast of the iron-works of Mr. Cockerill. Neither has it any longer the convent of Dominicans sombre cloister of high fame ! noble edifice of fine archi- tecture ! but there is a theatre exactly on the same spot, decorated with pillars and brass capitals, where operas are performed. Liege in the nineteenth century is what it was in the sixteenth. It vies with France in implements of war, with Versailles in extravagance of arms. But the old city of Saint Hubert, with its church and fortress, its ecclesiastic and military commute, has ceased to be a city of prayer and of war ; it is one of buying and selling an immense hive of industry. It has been transformed into a rich commercial centre ; has put one of its arms in France, the other in Holland, and is incessantly taking from the one and receiving from the other. Everything has been changed in this city; even its etymology has not escaped. The ancient stream Legia bears now the appellation of Ri-de-Coq Fontaine. 54 CHURCHES AT LIEGE. Notwithstanding, we must admit that Liege is gra- ciously situated near the green brow of the mountain of Sainte VValburge ; is divided by the Meuse into lower and upper towns ; is interspersed with thirteen bridges, some of which have rather an architectural appearance ; and is surrounded with trees, hills, and prairies. It has turrets, clocks, and portes-donjons, like that of Saint Martin and Amerrcceur, to excite the poet or the antiquary, even though he be startled with the noise, the smoke, and the flames of the manufactories around. As it rained heavily, I only visited four churches : SAINT PAUL'S, the actuelle cathedral, is a noble building of the fifteenth century, having a Gothic cloister, with a charming portail of the Renaissance, and surmounted by a belfry, which, had it not been that some inapt architect of our day spoiled all the angles, would be considered elegant. SAINT JEAN, a grave fa9ade of the sixteenth century, consisting of a large square steeple, with a smaller one on each side. SAINT HUBERT is rather a superior-looking building, whose lower galleries are of an excellent ordre. SAINT DENIS, a curious church of the tenth century, with a large steeple of the eleventh. That steeple bears traces of having been injured by fire. It was probably burnt during the Norman out- break. The Roman architecture has been ingeniously repaired, and the steeple finished in brick. This is per- fectly discernible, and has a most singular effect. As I was going from Saint Denis to Saint Hubert by a labyrinth of old narrow streets, ornamented here and there with madones, I suddenly came within view of a large dark stone wall, and on close observation discovered PALACE OF THE ECCLESIASTIC PRINCES. 55 that the back fa9ade indicated that it was a palace of the middle age. An obscure door presented itself; I entered, and at the expiration of a few moments found myself in a vast yard, which turned out to be that of the Palace of the Ecclesiastic Princes of Liege. The ensemble of the architecture is, perhaps, the most gloomy and noble -look- ing that I ever saw. There are four lofty granite fa9ades, surmounted by four prodigious slate roofs, with the same number of gal- leries. Two of these fa9ades, which are perfectly entire, present the admirable adjustment of ogives and arches which characterized the end of the fifteenth century and the beginning of the sixteenth. The windows of this clerical palace have meneaux like those of a church. Un- fortunately the two other fa9ades, which were destroyed by fire in 1734, have been rebuilt in the pitiful style of that epoch, and tend to detract from the general effect. It is now 105 years since the last bishop occupied this fine structure. The quadruple gallery that walls the yard is admira- bly preserved. There is nothing more pleasing to study than the pillars upon which the large ogives are placed : they are of gray granite, like the rest of the palace. Whilst examining the four rows, the one-half of the shaft of the pillar disappears, sometimes at the top, then at the bottom, under a rich swelling of arabesques. The swell- ing is doubled in the west range of the pillars, and the stalk disappears entirely. This speaks only of the Flem- ish caprice of the sixteenth century ; but what perplexes us is, that the chapiters of these pillars, decorated with heads, foliage, apocalyptical figures, dragons, and hiero- 56 PALACE OF THE ECCLESIASTIC PRINCES. glyphics, seem to belong to the architecture of the eleventh ; and it must be remembered that the palace of Liege was commenced in 1508, by Prince Erard de la Mark, who reigned thirty- two years. This grave edifice is at present a court of jus- tice: booksellers' and toy-merchants' shops are under all the arches, and vegetable gi stalls in the court- yard. The black robes of the law prac- titioners are seen in the midst of baskets of red and green cabbages. Groups of Flemish merchants, some merry, others morose, make fun and quarrel before each pillar ; irritated pleaders appear from all the windows ; and in that sombre yard, formerly solitary and tranquil as a convent, of which it has the appearance, the untired tongue of the advocate mingles with the chatter, the noise, and bavardage of the buyers and sellers. Above the roof of the palace there is a high and mas- sive square turret, built of brick, which was in former times the belfry. It is now converted into a prison for those of the fair sex who come under the appellation of filles publiques. On leaving the palace I contemplated the actuelle fa- fade. A man, addressed me, and wishing to excite my interest, informed me that in Holland Liege was called Luik, in German Luttich, and in Latin Leodium. My room at Liege was ornamented with muslin cur- INSCRIPTION. 57 tains, upon which were embroidered not nosegays, but melons. There were also several pictures, representing the triumph of the Allies and our disasters in 1814. Be- hold the legende printed at the bottom of one of these paintings : " Battle of Arcis-sur-Aube, 21st March, 1814. The greater portion of the garrison of this place, composed of the garde ancienne, were taken prisoners, and the Allies, on the 22nd of April, triumphantly entered Paris." LETTER VIII. THE BANKS OF THE VESDBE. VERVIERS. Railways. Miners at work. Louis the Fourteenth. ESTERDA Y morning, as the diligence was about to leave Liege for Aix-la- Chapelle, a worthy citizen annoyed the passengers by refusing to take the W seat upon the imperiale, which the conductor pointed out as his. For the sake of peace I offered him mine, which the condescending traveller, with- out evincing any reluctance, or even thanking me, ac- cepted, and the heavy vehicle forthwith rolled tardily along. I was pleased with the change. The road, though no longer by the banks of the Meuse, but by those of the Vesdre, is exceedingly beautiful. The Vesdre is rapid, and runs through Venders and Chauffontaines, along the most charming valley in the world. In August, especially if the day be fine, with a blue sky over our heads we have either a ravine or a garden, and certainly always a paradise. From the road RAILWAYS. 59 the river is ever in sight. It at one time passes through a pleasing village, at another it skirts an old castle, with square turrets : there the country suddenly changes its aspect, and on turning by a hill-side the eye discovers, through an opening in a thick tuft of trees, a low house with a huge wheel by its side. It is a water-mill. Between Chauffontaines and Verviers the valley is full of charms, and the weather being propitious added much to enliven the scene. Marmosets were playing upon the garden-steps ; the breeze was shaking the leaves of the tall poplars, and sounded like the music of peace, the harmony of nature ; handsome heifers, in groups of three and four, were shaded by leafy blinds from the rays of the sun, and were reposing on the greensward ; then, far from all houses, and alone, a fine cow, worthy of the regards of Argus, was peacefully grazing. The soft notes of a flute floating on the breeze were distinctly heard. " Mercurius septem mulcet arundinibus." The railway that colossale entreprise, which runs from Anvers to Liege, and is being extended to Verviers is cut through the solid rock, and runs along the valley. Here we meet a bridge, there a viaduct ; and at times we see in the distance, at the foot of an immense rock, a group of dark objects, resembling a hillock of ants, busily blasting the solid granite. These ants, small though they be, perform the work of giants. When the fissure is wide and deep, a strange sound proceeds from the interior : in fact, one might imagine that the rock is making known its grievances by the 60 VERVIERS. mouth which man has made. Our diligence suddenly stopped, on seeing the workmen, who were upon a rising ground, flying in all directions: a noise louder than thunder was heard, which was echoed by the adjacent rocks and mountains. It was the miners who were at work. For a few hours afterwards the passengers did nothing but speak of accidents that are always taking place that, no further back than yesterday, a man was killed and a tree cut in two by a block of stone which weighed twenty thousand pounds ; and that, the day before, the wife of one of the workmen, while carry- ing coffee to her husband, was killed in the same man- ner. This has a tendency to spoil the idylle. Venders is an insignificant little town, divided into three quartiers, called Chick- Chack, Brasse-Crotte, and Dardanelle. In passing, I observed a little urchin, about six years of age, who, seated upon a door- step, was smok- ing his pipe, with all the magisterial air of a Grand Turk, The marmot fumeur looked into my face, and burst into a fit of laughter, which made me conclude that my appear- ance was to him rather ridiculous. After Verviers, the road skirts the Vesdre as far as Simbourg: Simbourg that town of counts, that pate which Louis XIV. found had a crust rather hard for mas tication is at present a dismantled fortress. LETTER AIX-LA-CHAPE1.LE THE TOMB OF CHARLEMAGNE. Chapel. Legend of the Wolf and Pine-apple. Carlo Magno. Barbe- rousse. The untombing of Charlemagne. Exhibition of relics. Arm-chair of Charlemagne. The Swiss Guide. H6tel-de-Ville, the birthplace of Charlemagne. Aix-la-Chapelle in the distance. OR an invalid, Aix-la-Chapelle is a mineral fountain warm, cold, irony, and sulphureous ; for the tourist, it is a place for redoubts and concerts ; for the pilgrim, the place of relics, where the gown of the Virgin Mary, the blood of Jesus, the cloth which enveloped the head of John the Baptist after his decapitation, are exhibited every seven years ; for the antiquarian chronicler, it is a noble abbey of filles a ab- besse, connected with the male convent, which was built by Saint Gregory, son of Nicephore, Emperor of the East ; for the hunter, it is the ancient valley of the wild boars, (Porcetum) ; for the merchant, it is afabrique of cloth, needles, and pins ; and for him who is neither merchant, G 62 LEGEND OF THE WOLF manufacturer, hunter, antiquary, pilgrim, tourist, nor invalid, it is the city of Charlemagne. In fact, Charlemagne was born at Aix-la-Chapelle, and died there. He was born in the old palace, of which there now only remains the tower, and he was buried in the church that he founded in 796, two years after the death of his wife Frastrada. Leon the Third consecrated it in 804, and tradition says that two bishops of Ton- gres, who were buried at Maestricht, left their graves, in order to complete, at that ceremony, the three hundred and sixty-five bishops and archbishops representing the days of the year. This historical and legendary church, from which the town has taken its name, has undergone, during the last thousand years, many transformations. No sooner had I entered Aix than I went to the chapel. The portail, built of grey-blue granite/is of the time of Louis the Fifteenth, with doors of the eighth century. To the right of the portail, a large bronze ball, like a pine-apple, is placed upon a granite pillar ; and on the opposite side, on another pillar, is a wolf, of the same metal, which is half turned towards the bystanders, its mouth open and its teeth displayed. Permit me, my friend, to give you a brief explanation of the legend of the wolf and pine-apple. This is the legend daily recited by the old women of the place to the inquiring traveller : " A long time, a very long time ago, the good people of Aix-la-Chapelle wished to build a church : money was put aside for the purpose ; the foundation \vas laid, the walls were built, and the timber- work was commenced. AND THE PINE-APPLE. 63 For six months there was nothing heard but a deafening noise of saws, hammers, and axes; but at the expiration of that period the money ran short. A call was made upon the pilgrims for assistance ; a tin plate was placed at the door of the church, but scarcely a Hard was col- lected. What was to be done ? The senate assembled, and proposed, argued, advised, and consulted. The workmen refused to continue their labour. The grass, the brambles, the ivy, and all the other insolent weeds which surround ruins, clang to the new stones of the abandoned edifice. Was there no other alternative than that of discontinuing the church ? The glorious senate of burgomasters were in a state of consternation. " One day, in the midst of their discussions, a strange man, of tall stature and respectable appearance, entered. " ' Good day, gentlemen. What is the subject of dis- cussion ? You seem bewildered . Ah, I suppose your church weighs heavy at your hearts. You do not know how to finish it. People say that money is the chief re- quisite for its completion.' " ' Stranger/ said one of the senate, ' allez vous en an diable ? It would take a million of money.' " There is a million,' said the unnkown, opening the window, and pointing to a chariot drawn by oxen, and guarded by twenty negroes armed to the teeth. " One of the burgomasters went with the stranger to the carriage, took the first sack that came to his hand, then both returned. It was laid before the senate, and found to be full of gold. " The bourgomestres looked with eyes expressive both of foolishness and surprise, and demanded of the inconnu G2 64 LEGEND OF THE WOLF " ' Who are you, sir ? ' " ' My dear fellows, I am the man who has money at command. What more do you require ? I inhabit the Black Forest, near the lake of Wildsee, and not far from the ruins of Heidensladt, the ciiy of Pagans. I possess mines of gold and sil/er, and at night I handle millions of precious stones. But I have strange faucies hi fact, I am unhappy, a melancholy being, passing my days in gazing into the transparent lake, watching the tourniquet and the water Tiitons, anJ obsjrving the growth of the polygonum amphibium among the rjcks. But a truce to questions and idle stories. I have opened my heart, profit by it ! There is yoar million of money. Will you accept it ? ' " ' Pardieu, oui,' said the senate ' Wo shall finish our church.' " * Well, it is yours,' the stranger said ; ' but remem- ber there is a condition.' '"What is it?' " * Finish your church, gentlemen take all this pre- cious metal ; but promise me, in exchange, the first soul that enters into the church on the day of its consecration.' " ' You are the devil ! ' cried the senate. " * You are imbeciles,' replied Urian. " The burgomasters began to cross themselves, to turn pale, and tremble ; but Urian, who was a queer fellow, shook the bag containing the gold, laughed till he almost split his sides, and, soon gaining the confidence of the worthy gentlemen, a negotiation took place. The devil is a clever fellow, that is the reason that he is a devil. AND THE PINE-APPLE. 65 " ' After all,' he said, ' I am the one who shall lose by the bargain. You shall have your million and your church : as for me, I shall only have a soul.' " ' Whose soul, sir ? ' demanded the frightened senate. " ' The first one that comes that, perhaps, of some canting hypocrite, who, to appear devout, and to show his zeal in the cause, will enter first. But, bourgomestres, my friends, your church bids fair. The plan pleases me ; and the edifice, in my opinion, will be superb. I see with pleasure that your architect prefers the trompe-sous- le-coin to that of Montpellier. I do not dislike the arched vault, but still I would have preferred a ridged one. I acknowledge that he has made the door-way very taste- fully ; but I am not sure if he has been careful about the thickness of theparpain. What is the name of your ar- chitect ? Tell him from me, that, to make a door well, there must be four panels. Nevertheless, the church is of a very good style, and well adjusted. It would be a pity to leave off what has been so well begun. You must finish your church. Come, my friends ; the million for you the soul for me. Is it not so ? ' " ' After all,' thought the citizens, 'we ought to be satisfied that he contents himself with one soul. He might, if he observed attentively, find that there is scarcely one in the whole place that does not belong to him.' " The bargain was concluded the million was locked up Urian disappeared in a blue flame and two years afterwards the church was finished. " You must know that all the senators took an oath to keep the transaction a profound secret ; and it must also be understood that each of them on the very same even- 66 LEGEND OF THE WOLF ing related the affair to his wife. When the church was complete, the whole town thanks to the wives of the se- nators knew the secret of the senate ; and no one would enter the church. This was an embarrassment greater even than the first : the church was erected, but no one would enter ; it was finished, but it was empty. What good was a church of this description ? "The senate assembled, but they could do nothing; and they called upon the Bishop of Tongres, but he was equally puzzled. The canons of the church were con- sulted ; but to no avail. At last the monks were brought in. " ' Pardieu,' said one of them ; ' you seem to stand at trifles ; you owe Urian the first soul that passes the door of the church ; but he did not stipulate as to the kind of soul. I assure you, this Urian is at best an ass. Gen- tlemen, after a severe struggle, a wolf was taken alive in the valley of Borcette. Make it enter the church. Urian must be contented ; he shall have a soul, although only that of a wolf.'