1816: the Grandest Tour

France: Chapter 23

The weather that day was damp and overcast, but contained no threat of a similar deluge to the night before – or so Dick assured them. The road, meanwhile, was muddy but straight, and well-kept. They made good enough time along it that no one was cross with Hercule when he stopped to chat with passing fellow drivers – something he did at every opportunity. By the time they reached Troyes it was only seven in the evening, so the travelers had time to install themselves at an inn and take a stroll around the old town.

As the boys dimly remembered from school, and Tobias confirmed from his guides, Troyes had been the site of a treaty with England in 1420. In this treaty, Charles VI of France ceded the succession to his new son-in-law, Henry V of England, after the latter's famous victory at Agincourt. The glorious moment for English arms was short-lived, however. With Henry's early death, France rose under Joan of Arc to win back every inch of territory from the English but Calais. This included Troyes itself, which surrendered to the Maid of Orleans in 1429.

"Bloody frogs," said Robert once Tobias finished reading. "Trust them to only win back their country under a woman."

The other three found this view a little blinkered, but were too tired to debate him on it.

The following day they spent in their usual fashion of sightseeing, taking in the Cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul, the Hôtel de Ville, and various other fine Gothic churches and historic town mansions. As usual George and Tobias found the architecture fascinating, and did their best to communicate some enthusiasm to the other two. Despite their effort, this project had minimal success. The one thing that did spark Robert's interest was when Tobias read the page in his guide on local culinary traditions. George seized the moment to assure his friend: after just one or two more churches they would seek out the best dinner available. This did wonders for Robert and Hugh's good humor. Quietly conferring with Tobias afterward, George made a strong case that promises of good food could be strategic blessing in the days and months ahead. Tobias agreed.

Afterwards the four lads sat down at a comfortable auberge to dine on local specialties. To drink, they enjoyed two bottles of regional champagne and another two of cider. To eat, they followed the innkeeper's suggestion of Andouillette de Troyes, though neither George nor Tobias had come across this word before. All they could understand from the host's explanation was that it was a kind of local sausage. When the meat in question arrived, the boys were surprised at its strong odor. As the host eagerly looked on George and the others gingerly picked at the pale-colored saucissons, unsure of what to do. Oppressed by the pangs of hunger, Robert threw caution to the wind and bit into a forkful. His friends searched intently for hints in the young gourmand's face. At last he swallowed.

"It's chitterlings," he said. "You know, pig's innards."

The other three weren't sure if these were good tidings or bad.

"And bloody delicious!" said Robert, to which the innkeeper sighed in joyful relief. He wished them a bon appetit and bustled off.

Following their friend's lead, Robert's three comrades each took a bite of the strange-smelling sausage. Immediately on tasting the food, they could tell something was off. Not that the meat was spoiled as such, but that its origin on the animal's anatomy was... unfamiliar. After stoically chewing through and swallowing his first piece, George turned to his friend.

"Erm, Robert –"

"Yes?"

"What – part of the pig's innards are these, exactly?"

"The chitterlings? Why, the lower intestines of course."

"The lower int..." George's mind raced to remember his singularly dull anatomy class from years ago. Tobias had taken more of them, and turned pale.