Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub

The quays are crowded with people; and the persons assembled from foreign lands are dressed in the habits of their different countries, few of them familiar to an English eye; Greeks, Turks, Moors, Jews, Spaniards, and Italians. The streets, the quays, and the public walks, are loaded with piles of fruit and different vegetables, and it is the fruit of a warmer clime :-pomegranates, figs, almonds, olives, grapes, melons, limes, and chestnuts, the scarlet berry of the arbutus, the bulky yellow gourd, the glaring tomato, and the bright, purple pod of a species of solanum ; whilst the tuberose and the jasmine, on every stall, exhale the perfume of a southern sky. The very employments of the people are peculiar: winnowing their grain on the quay, twisting coarse grass round their long bottles of Hungary water and other perfumes, to secure them from injury on their way to distant regions. At Marseilles, as well as in most other towns in France, all the petty handicraft trades are carried on in the streets-cobblers, blacksmiths, carpenters, upholsterers: the latter lay the wool out of an old mattress on a frame, and thresh it with a flail, the dust flying out for the benefit of those who may happen to be passing by.

"The Hotel des Empereurs displays a superb front in one of the best streets in the town, and is in great vogue. There are several other capital hotels, and all in good situations. We drove to the Hotel des Ambassadeurs, near the quay, but the best apartments were all engaged by a party of English. We looked at the rooms of two gentlemen, who were going away the next day but one, which were very pleasant, the windows opening on the harbour. The price was eight francs per day, and the dinners six francs each person; but most of the English families dined at the table d'hôte for three francs ten sous a head. We did not choose to wait in back bed-chambers, till these were vacant, but went to an hotel garni, which had been recommended to us at Aix, and engaged á suite of rooms. For two large handsome apartments, with a small one adjoining, we paid four francs a night. Mons. : Auguste, the master of the house, was himself a restaurateur, and provided us with excellent dinners at a very reasonable charge; with many delicacies which we had not tasted before, particularly very small birds, roasted in a leaf, or three or four together in a sheet of writing paper. These birds feed on figs and grapes, and are seen in great numbers in the vineyards. We had ducks stewed with olives, pigeons with crayfish, and we had various kinds of fish, but we did not find that they smacked of the Mediterranean; they tasted to us very much like the native burghers' of our own herring pond. I do not think the French excel in their manner of dressing fish. It is frequently eaten cold, and never served up first as in England." P. 110.

"The greatest luxury at Marseilles is the fruit, which is in an almost inconceivable profusion, and of the best quality. Besides what is produced in the neighbourhood, the market is supplied from the other ports in the Mediterranean, with all the delicacies

of the season. We bought exquisite grapes of several fine sorts, for two sous (one penny) a pound, melons for four or five sous each! but the most esteemed, which are with green flesh, are seldom less than twelve sous; but one may taste half a dozen by paying an additional sou, and choose the best. They are likewise sold by the slice; a large slice for one sou; black figs twelve for a sou; pomegranates are a sou a piece; their juice is rather insipid, but cooling and pleasant in hot weather. The olives are exposed on the fruit-stalls in great quantities in a proper state for bottling, of a beautiful green, and rather more than half ripe. When they are left longer on the trees for oil, they get quite soft, and the colour of a sloe. We saw plenty of apples and pears, chestnuts, almonds, and late peaches with yellow flesh; but the best peaches, the white figs, the plums, and a variety of other sorts of summer fruit, which are reckoned delicious, are over. But all the fruits of these hot climates, delicious as they are, can offer no adequate compensation for enduring the sun that brings them to perfection. On the 14th of October the heat at Marseilles was so excessive, that we sat in the house till the evening, almost gasping for breath. The hottest days we ever experienced in England in the month of August are not more sultry; and the extreme dryness of the atmosphere increases the evil tenfold, and is not only very disagreeable, but, I should conceive, very prejudicial to people in a delicate state of health, and injurious to weak lungs. It parches the frame, disorders the nerves, and discomposes the whole economy of one's feelings.

"This remarkable dryness is a circumstance quite astonishing to me. All through the heart of France we were deluged with rain. At Lyons the weather had been constantly wet during the whole summer; and we perceived no symptoms of any change in the climate in that respect till we reached Avignon; there the appearance of the country bespoke drought, and all the way from thence to Marseilles the want of rain was a subject of complaint. We learnt by the newspapers that at Nismes prayers for rain had been read in the churches. It seemed likely, that as we approached the sea we should find the humidity of the air increase; but it was just the reverse; and why it should be so much drier at Marseilles, on the shores of the Mediterranean, than in the centre of the kingdom, appears inexplicable. No doubt exists of the fact, though in some seasons perhaps there may be a less degree of difference than in others. Is it possible that these thirsty calcareous mountains can absorb all the moisture in the atmosphere, and leave none to fall in rain or dew?

"From all the accounts we could obtain, the temperature of the air in the months of November, December, January, and February, must be delightful. Its equability, however, is frequently interrupted by the setting in of a wind called the mistral; which (as we were told by a gentleman to whom we brought letters of introduction) frightened all the English, but braced the nerves of the

natives, and did them good. This wind is often accompanied by storms of hail and sharp frosts, too severe for the orange trees, which will not grow in the open ground in any part of France, except in the sheltered neighbourhood of Toulon and Hyères.

Between twenty and thirty English families spent the last winter at Marseilles; and not only enjoyed good society amongst themselves, but (as the same gentleman informed us) they were well received by the inhabitants, who tried all the means in their power to make the town agreeable to them. In the winter it is very gay with balls and other amusements; but at this season of the year most of the principal people are at their country houses, which are called bastides, and the number of them in the vicinity is said to exceed five thousand. In the gardens that encircle them the vines and figs are trained over hoops, to afford a little shade beneath their foliage, The gardens join one another, so that the bastides do not appear to have any distinct pleasure ground appropriated to each; and their number is more striking than their beauty. In spite of all the culture bestowed upon it, the general face of the country is bare and white,

"No sentiment of dislike to the English is harboured, as far as we could ascertain, by any class of society at Marseilles. In some of the towns we passed through it was discernible enough, though restrained in the higher orders by civility, and in the others by fear. At Lyons the English are very unpopular, which perhaps is the reason that amongst so many emigrants from our island not one family has chosen it for a place of abode, though so desirable in many respects." P. 113,

The following anecdotes may serve to shew how the Eng+ lish are imposed upon in France, as well as to do away the scruples of those who are partial to goose's liver.

"The moment we landed at Avignon, five or six men were eager in offering their aid to get our carriage on shore, for which service they made a most extravagant demand; but, on our intimating to them that we were apprised of the regular charge being seven francs ten sous, they instantly acquiesced. This reminded us of a circumstance that occurred some years ago to a friend of ours in Paris. It happened then to be the fashion to consult a famous corncutter, and this lady, amongst the rest, thought proper to employ him. After he had made his first visit, she enquired how much she was in his debt, and he answered, Nine livres.' Nine livres!' repeated the lady, nine livres ! why, Monsieur, you know very well that your usual fee is only three.? Ah, yes;' replied the Frenchman, it is true; I do know it very well myself; but I was not aware that madame knew it also.'" P. 92.

6

"Agen is a very dirty ill-built town. We had comfortable accommodations at the Hotel Petit St. Jean.. The landlord, who occupied a farm, took some pride in showing us his cattle, and his

pigs, and poultry; which gave us an opportunity of making inquiries into the method of managing the geese, so as to produce the celebrated livers. We had tasted them for the first time at Toulouse, and found them such an exquisite dainty, that we lamented not being able to eat them with a quiet conscience, and without the phantom of a gasping goose haunting the imagination: the idea is shocking, that any living thing should suffer torture as well as death merely to gratify the palate. Having remarked the extraordinary shape and size of the geese in the fields, we might perhaps have persuaded ourselves that nature had given them these delicious livers of her own free will, if we had not promiscuously heard divers stories of the cruelties practised upon them to make their livers increase in bulk. Some accounts of their treatment assert, that the geese are nailed to the floor by their feet, round a large fire; and as they lie panting and half melted with heat, water or moist food is poured down their gaping bills. In this situation, they soon become diseased, and are killed when at the point of dying from their previous treatment; their livers being swollen to an enormous size, and their bodies wasted away to skeletons, and good for nothing. When we left Toulouse, we did not fail to gather all the information we could upon the subject at every country inn where we halted; and the accounts we received agreed with that which our landlord at Agen now gave us. He said the geese were shut up in outhouses to be fattened, like other poultry, and were fed with maize, boiled or soaked in milk. So far from their being fastened close to a fire, they require to be kept in a cool place: they soon got very plump, and were killed. The livers being then a lump of fat, were sold at a high price: for, besides the demand for them in the neighbourhood, they were made into patties, and sent to Paris. The body of the goose, being too fat to be roasted, was cured in various ways; the legs, in particular, were sometimes potted, and sent to the West Indies. This account is corroborated by several circumstances. At Marseilles we noticed over the door of a cook's shop, amongst other articles for sale, "Confiture d'Oie," and wondered what description of preserve it might be; and we have since been informed that the legs are much prized in the West Indies, and used for soup and other dishes."— P. 192.

Occasionally our fair tourist indulges us with over-long reflections, but most of her essays relate to a question upon which women are entitled to be communicative, and men are bound to listen; the proper studies, occupations, and privileges, of the more interesting moiety of mankind. Mrs. Carey patronizes the study of the dead languages, disapproves of the partial law by which a man exclaims,

what is my wife's is mine, but what is mine is my own," and thinks it extremely indelicate in an injured husband to

sue the wrong doer for damages. On all these subjects, but especially on the first, we had rather hear ladies talk, than peruse their more methodical arguments; and Mrs. Carey's book would be much improved by abridging the didactic portions of it.

She is surprised that the French were so stoically indifferent to Buonaparte's second abdication, and cannot pretend to reconcile their conduct with the enthusiastic reception which awaited him on his return from Elba. The fact is, the French conduct was tolerably uniform. The soldiers welcomed their general, and fought for him, till he left them in the lurch. The people took no part either for him or against him. They contributed nothing to his restoration, and did not endeavour to accelerate or break his fall. They cared not for Louis or Napoleon, but were willing to obey him that had the bayonets on his side. And we suspect it will be seen hereafter, that it was a knowledge of this circumstance which led the Duc d'Angouleme to Cadiz. Mrs. Carey gives the following entertaining instance of Buonaparte's vigilance and suspicion.

"Buonaparte, when he came to view the works, endeavoured to ingratiate himself with the people of La Vendée, and to conciliate their affections; but he always entertained a great suspicion of their attachment; and we heard an anecdote, which marks his distrust very strongly.

"The sub-prefect of Montaigu came to attend him at Bourbon Vendée, then Napoleon; and when the emperor set off from thence for Montaigu, the sub prefect took his horse, and riding across the country, reached home in time to receive him when he alighted from his carriage. Buonaparte looked at him very earnestly, and asked him if he had not left him at Napoleon? He replied in the affirmative; but thinking his duty called him to wait upon his majesty, he had speedily returned with that intent. It seems the emperor was not much pleased to be excelled in any thing, not even in expeditious travelling; and he received very ungraciously this instance of celerity in his service in the magistrate of Montaigu. The empress, who accompanied him, had desired to have a glass of water; and being suddenly seized with vomiting, Buonaparte fixed his eyes sternly on the sub-prefect, and pouring out a glass of water, bid him drink it, and kept him half an hour in his presence; and when the empress recovered, and they went away, he left an officer, with orders not to quit him for a certain time, that if the water was poisoned, he might have no opportunity of taking any thing to counteract its effects." P. 239.

We have little more room to devote to this agreeable volume, but we cannot take leave of it without thanking Mrs.

« ÎnapoiContinuă »