The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne (pdf e book reader txt) 📕

high⁠—had it been much higher, it had been as high as mount Calvary itself⁠—therefore, I suppose it must be high enough in all conscience.

There was nothing struck me more than the great Square; tho’ I cannot say ’tis either well paved or well built; but ’tis in the heart of the town, and most of the streets, especially those in that quarter, all terminate in it; could there have been a fountain in all Calais, which it seems there cannot, as such an object would have been a great ornament, it is not to be doubted, but that the inhabitants would have had it in the very centre of this square,⁠—not that it is properly a square,⁠—because ’tis forty feet longer from east to west, than from north to south; so that the French in general have more reason on their side in calling them Places than Squares, which, strictly speaking, to be sure, they are not.

The town-house seems to be but a sorry building, and not to be kept in the best repair; otherwise it had been a second great ornament to this place; it answers however its destination, and serves very well for the reception of the magistrates, who assemble in it from time to time; so that ’tis presumable, justice is regularly distributed.

I have heard much of it, but there is nothing at all curious in the Courgain; ’tis a distinct quarter of the town, inhabited solely by sailors and fishermen; it consists of a number of small streets, neatly built and mostly of brick; ’tis extremely populous, but as that may be accounted for, from the principles of their diet,⁠—there is nothing curious in that neither.⁠⸺⁠A traveller may see it to satisfy himself⁠—he must not omit however taking notice of La Tour de Guet, upon any account; ’tis so called from its particular destination, because in war it serves to discover and give notice of the enemies which approach the place, either by sea or land;⁠⸺⁠but ’tis monstrous high, and catches the eye so continually, you cannot avoid taking notice of it if you would.

It was a singular disappointment to me, that I could not have permission to take an exact survey of the fortifications, which are the strongest in the world, and which, from first to last, that is, from the time they were set about by Philip of France, Count of Boulogne, to the present war, wherein many reparations were made, have cost (as I learned afterwards from an engineer in Gascony)⁠—above a hundred millions of livres. It is very remarkable, that at the Tête de Gravelenes, and where the town is naturally the weakest, they have expended the most money; so that the outworks stretch a great way into the campaign, and consequently occupy a large tract of ground⁠—However, after all that is said and done, it must be acknowledged that Calais was never upon any account so considerable from itself, as from its situation, and that easy entrance which it gave our ancestors, upon all occasions, into France: it was not without its inconveniences also; being no less troublesome to the English in those times, than Dunkirk has been to us, in ours; so that it was deservedly looked upon as the key to both kingdoms, which no doubt is the reason that there have arisen so many contentions who should keep it: of these, the siege of Calais, or rather the blockade (for it was shut up both by land and sea), was the most memorable, as it withstood the efforts of Edward the Third a whole year, and was not terminated at last but by famine and extreme misery; the gallantry of Eustace de St. Pierre, who first offered himself a victim for his fellow-citizens, has rank’d his name with heroes. As it will not take up above fifty pages, it would be injustice to the reader, not to give him a minute account of that romantic transaction, as well as of the siege itself, in Rapin’s own words:

VI

⸺⁠But courage! gentle reader!⁠⸺⁠I scorn it⁠⸺’tis enough to have thee in my power⁠⸺⁠but to make use of the advantage which the fortune of the pen has now gained over thee, would be too much⁠⸺⁠No⁠⸺! by that all-powerful fire which warms the visionary brain, and lights the spirits through unwordly tracts! ere I would force a helpless creature upon this hard service, and make thee pay, poor soul! for fifty pages, which I have no right to sell thee,⁠⸺⁠naked as I am, I would browse upon the mountains, and smile that the north wind brought me neither my tent or my supper.

—So put on, my brave boy! and make the best of thy way to Boulogne.

VII

⸺⁠Boulogne!⁠⸺⁠hah!⁠⸺⁠so we are all got together⁠⸺⁠debtors and sinners before heaven; a jolly set of us⁠—but I can’t stay and quaff it off with you⁠—I’m pursued myself like a hundred devils, and shall be overtaken, before I can well change horses:⁠⸺⁠for heaven’s sake, make haste⁠⸺’Tis for high-treason, quoth a very little man, whispering as low as he could to a very tall man, that stood next him⁠⸺⁠Or else for murder; quoth the tall man⁠⸺⁠Well thrown, Size-ace! quoth I. No; quoth a third, the gentleman has been committing⁠⸺.

Ah! ma chere fille! said I, as she tripp’d by from her matins⁠—you look as rosy as the morning (for the sun was rising, and it made the compliment the more gracious)⁠—No; it can’t be that, quoth a fourth⁠⸺(she made a curt’sy to me⁠—I kiss’d my hand) ’tis debt, continued he: ’Tis certainly for debt; quoth a fifth; I would not pay that gentleman’s debts, quoth Ace, for a thousand pounds; nor would I, quoth Size, for six times the sum⁠—Well thrown, Size-ace, again! quoth I;⁠—but I have no debt but the debt of Nature, and I want but patience of her, and I will pay her every farthing I owe her⁠⸺⁠How can you be so hardhearted, Madam, to arrest a poor traveller going along without molestation to anyone