Travels Through France And Italy by Tobias Smollett (fastest ebook reader .txt) 📕

Had Recourse To The Third Method, Which Is Going Post.

In England You Know I Should Have Had Nothing To Do, But To Hire

A Couple Of Post-Chaises From Stage To Stage, With Two Horses In

Each; But Here The Case Is Quite Otherwise. The Post Is Farmed

From The King, Who Lays Travellers Under Contribution For His Own

Benefit, And Has Published A Set Of Oppressive Ordonnances, Which

No Stranger Nor Native Dares Transgress. The Postmaster Finds

Nothing But Horses And Guides: The Carriage You Yourself Must 

Provide. If There Are Four Persons Within The Carriage, You Are

Obliged To Have Six Horses, And Two Postillions; And If Your

Servant Sits On The Outside, Either Before Or Behind, You Must

Pay For A Seventh. You Pay Double For The First Stage From Paris,

And Twice Double For Passing Through Fontainbleau When The Court

Is There, As Well As At Coming To Lyons, And At Leaving This

City. These Are Called Royal Posts, And Are Undoubtedly A

Scandalous Imposition.

There Are Two Post Roads From Paris To Lyons, One Of Sixty-Five

Posts, By The Way Of Moulins; The Other Of Fifty-Nine, By The Way

Of Dijon In Burgundy. This Last I Chose, Partly To Save Sixty

Livres, And Partly To See The Wine Harvest Of Burgundy, Which, I

Was Told, Was A Season Of Mirth And Jollity Among All Ranks Of

People. I Hired A Very Good Coach For Ten Loui'dores To Lyons,

And Set Out From Paris On The Thirteenth Instant, With Six

Horses, Two Postillions, And My Own Servant On Horseback. We Made

No Stop At Fontainbleau, Though The Court Was There; But Lay At

Moret, Which Is One Stage Further, A Very Paltry Little Town

Where, However, We Found Good Accommodation.

I Shall Not Pretend To Describe The Castle Or Palace Of

Fontainbleau, Of Which I Had Only A Glimpse In Passing; But The

Forest, In The Middle Of Which It Stands, Is A Noble Chace Of

Great Extent, Beautifully Wild And Romantic, Well Stored With

Game Of All Sorts, And Abounding With Excellent Timber. It Put Me

In Mind Of The New Forest In Hampshire; But The Hills, Rocks, And

Mountains, With Which It Is Diversified, Render It More

Agreeable.

The People Of This Country Dine At Noon, And Travellers Always

Find An Ordinary Prepared At Every Auberge, Or Public-House, On

The Road. Here They Sit Down Promiscuously, And Dine At So Much A

Head. The Usual Price Is Thirty Sols For Dinner, And Forty For

Supper, Including Lodging; For This Moderate Expence They Have

Two Courses And A Dessert. If You Eat In Your Own Apartment, You

Pay, Instead Of Forty Sols, Three, And In Some Places, Four

Livres Ahead. I And My Family Could Not Well Dispense With Our

Tea And Toast In The Morning, And Had No Stomach To Eat At Noon.

For My Own Part, I Hate French Cookery, And Abominate Garlick,

With Which All Their Ragouts, In This Part Of The Country, Are

Highly Seasoned: We Therefore Formed A Different Plan Of Living

Upon The Road. Before We Left Paris, We Laid In A Stock Of Tea,

Chocolate, Cured Neats' Tongues, And Saucissons, Or Bologna

Sausages, Both Of Which We Found In Great Perfection In That

Capital, Where, Indeed, There Are Excellent Provisions Of All

Sorts. About Ten In The Morning We Stopped To Breakfast At Some

Auberge, Where We Always Found Bread, Butter, And Milk. In The 

Mean Time, We Ordered A Poulard Or Two To Be Roasted, And These,

Wrapped In A Napkin, Were Put Into The Boot Of The Coach,

Together With Bread, Wine, And Water. About Two Or Three In The

Afternoon, While The Horses Were Changing, We Laid A Cloth Upon

Our Knees, And Producing Our Store, With A Few Earthen Plates,

Discussed Our Short Meal Without Further Ceremony. This Was

Followed By A Dessert Of Grapes And Other Fruit, Which We Had

Also Provided. I Must Own I Found These Transient Refreshments

Much More Agreeable Than Any Regular Meal I Ate Upon The Road.

The Wine Commonly Used In Burgundy Is So Weak And Thin, That You

Would Not Drink It In England. The Very Best Which They Sell At

Dijon, The Capital Of The Province, For Three Livres A Bottle, Is

In Strength, And Even In Flavour, Greatly Inferior To What I Have

Drank In London. I Believe All The First Growth Is Either

Consumed In The Houses Of The Noblesse, Or Sent Abroad To Foreign

Markets. I Have Drank Excellent Burgundy At Brussels For A Florin

A Bottle; That Is, Little More Than Twenty Pence Sterling.

The Country From The Forest Of Fontainbleau To The Lyonnois,

Through Which We Passed, Is Rather Agreeable Than Fertile, Being

Part Of Champagne And The Dutchy Of Burgundy, Watered By Three

Pleasant Pastoral Rivers, The Seine, The Yonne, And The Saone.

The Flat Country Is Laid Out Chiefly For Corn; But Produces More

Rye Than Wheat. Almost All The Ground Seems To Be Ploughed Up, So

That There Is Little Or Nothing Lying Fallow. There Are Very Few

Inclosures, Scarce Any Meadow Ground, And, So Far As I Could

Observe, A Great Scarcity Of Cattle. We Sometimes Found It Very

Difficult  To Procure Half A Pint Of Milk For Our Tea. In

Burgundy I Saw A Peasant Ploughing The Ground With A Jack-Ass, A

Lean Cow, And A He-Goat, Yoked Together. It Is Generally

Observed, That A Great Number Of Black Cattle Are Bred And Fed On

The Mountains Of Burgundy, Which Are The Highest Lands In France;

But I Saw Very Few. The Peasants In France Are So Wretchedly

Poor, And So Much Oppressed By Their Landlords, That They Cannot

Afford To Inclose Their Grounds, Or Give A Proper Respite To

Their Lands; Or To Stock Their Farms With A Sufficient Number Of

Black Cattle To Produce The Necessary Manure, Without Which

Agriculture Can Never Be Carried To Any Degree Of Perfection.

Indeed, Whatever Efforts A Few Individuals May Make For The

Benefit Of Their Own Estates, Husbandry In France Will Never Be

Generally Improved, Until The Farmer Is Free And Independent.

From The Frequency Of Towns And Villages, I Should Imagine This

Country Is Very Populous; Yet It Must Be Owned, That The Towns

Are In General Thinly Inhabited. I Saw A Good Number Of Country

Seats And Plantations Near Tile Banks Of The Rivers, On Each

Side; And A Great Many Convents, Sweetly Situated, On Rising

Grounds, Where The Air Is Most Pure, And The Prospect Most

Agreeable. It Is Surprising To See How Happy The Founders Of

Those Religious Houses Have Been In Their Choice Of Situations, 

All The World Over.

In Passing Through This Country, I Was Very Much Struck With The

Sight Of Large Ripe Clusters Of Grapes, Entwined With The Briars

And Thorns Of Common Hedges On The Wayside. The Mountains Of

Burgundy Are Covered With Vines From The Bottom To The Top, And

Seem To Be Raised By Nature On Purpose To Extend The Surface, And

To Expose It The More Advantageously To The Rays Of The Sun. The

Vandange Was But Just Begun, And The People Were Employed In

Gathering The Grapes; But I Saw No Signs Of Festivity Among Them.

Perhaps Their Joy Was A Little Damped By The Bad Prospect Of

Their Harvest; For They Complained That The Weather Had Been So

Unfavourable As To Hinder The Grapes From Ripening. I Thought,

Indeed, There Was Something Uncomfortable In Seeing The Vintage

Thus Retarded Till The Beginning Of Winter: For, In Some Parts, I

Found The Weather Extremely Cold; Particularly At A Place Called

Maison-Neuve, Where We Lay, There Was A Hard Frost, And In The

Morning The Pools Were Covered With A Thick Crust Of Ice. My

Personal Adventures On The Road Were Such As Will Not Bear A

Recital. They Consisted Of Petty Disputes With Landladies, Post-

Masters, And Postillions. The Highways Seem To Be Perfectly Safe.

We Did Not Find That Any Robberies Were Ever Committed, Although

We Did Not See One Of The Marechaussee From Paris To Lyons. You

Know The Marechaussee Are A Body Of Troopers Well Mounted,

Maintained In France As Safe-Guards To The Public Roads. It Is A

Reproach Upon England That Some Such Patrol Is Not Appointed For

The Protection Of Travellers.

At Sens In Champagne, My Servant, Who Had Rode On Before To

Bespeak Fresh Horses, Told Me, That The Domestic Of Another

Company Had Been Provided Before Him, Altho' It Was Not His Turn,

As He Had Arrived Later At The Post. Provoked At This Partiality,

I Resolved To Chide The Post-Master, And Accordingly Addressed

Myself To A Person Who Stood At The Door Of The Auberge. He Was A

Jolly Figure, Fat And Fair, Dressed In An Odd Kind Of Garb, With

A Gold Laced Cap On His Head, And A Cambric Handkerchief Pinned

To His Middle. The Sight Of Such A Fantastic Petit Maitre, In The

Character Of A Post-Master, Increased My Spleen. I Called To Him

With An Air Of Authority, Mixed With Indignation, And When He

Came Up To The Coach, Asked In A Peremptory Tone, If He Did Not

Understand The King's Ordonnance Concerning The Regulation Of The

Posts? He Laid His Hand Upon His Breast; But Before He Could Make

Any Answer, I Pulled Out The Post-Book, And Began To Read, With

Great Vociferation, The Article Which Orders, That The Traveller

Who Comes First Shall Be First Served. By This Time The Fresh

Horses Being Put To The Carriage, And The Postillions Mounted,

The Coach Set Off All Of A Sudden, With Uncommon Speed. I

Imagined The Post-Master Had Given The Fellows A Signal To Be

Gone, And, In This Persuasion, Thrusting My Head Out At The

Window, I Bestowed Some Epithets Upon Him, Which Must Have