1816: the Grandest Tour

France: Chapter 2

The captain had said that, on a clear day, the crossing could take as little as two or three hours. Not half an hour into their sailing, however, a persistent squall rolled in and made progress slow. This effectively doubled his estimate. George and the others were unruffled, and did their best to strike up conversation with fellow excursionists on board. Tobias met a banker headed to Paris who was a passing acquaintance of his father's. George and Robert were quickly mystified by the financial argot of their talk, and Hugh thought such matter decidedly beneath his own concerns, so they looked for distraction elsewhere.

A few wags from another touring party had set up a game of ninepins on the promenading deck and were now attempting to bowl, with every pitch of the ship sending their ball and pins hopelessly awry. No one seemed to mind this – probably because they had a liberal supply of gin – and Robert and Hugh decided to join them. For his part, George remembered a piece of advice from one of his guidebooks and went to have a word with the captain. Finding him briefly at leisure in his cabin, George asked the old mariner if could give him any recommendation for a good inn at Calais. The man replied in a cheerful affirmative.

"A good house is the Royal Hotel in the Rue de l'Etoile," he said. "An Englishman keeps it, so you'll even find good home cooking if you wish."

George thanked him and gave a sixpence for his trouble.

"Much appreciated, sir. You'll be gladder of my advice once you get into harbor, you'll see," he said with a chuckle.

George gave him a puzzled smile and took his leave.

The remainder of the voyage was uneventful. And within a few more hours they came in full view of Calais's protected harbor and towers, surrounded by swampland. While unloading they made sure to tip the mate, and the steward, and the French ladder-men, a few Francs or crowns each, depending on the man. With top hats and greatcoats on the four descended the gangplank to the pier with Dick and Isaac in front, and immediately they were swarmed.

A crush of boys and men, most of them quite young, pushed against them offering to bear their luggage, find them lodging, food, entertainment, anything their strong French accents could manage. It was the first time George and the others, not one of them Peers of the Realm, heard themselves addressed as "Milord! Milord!" It would not be the last.

"Get off, get off you little beast! Oh!" Hugh said as he swatted with his Times of London at a young urchin clinging to his sleeve. The boy looked no more than twelve, and resolutely kept up his pitiful refrain, "le bagage, milord, le bagage!"

With Dick and Isaac's firm shoves they soon made their way through the mass of would-be porters and on to the customs depot. Here they had to await a much more thorough inspection of their bags than at the former port. In Dover the French officials, all politeness, had merely slipped a hand down the edges of each trunk, barely lifting the lid on some items. The Calais inspectors, however, were thorough and exacting in their business. Each of the party's effects were unceremoniously sifted, examined, and in some cases tersely commented on in French. George made out some of their muttering, most of it simply identifying what they found to another who noted the items down. Occasionally a dry comment, a raised eyebrow, gave the distinct impression the officials had made some judgment or other on their belongings. Perhaps these inspectors were ex-Bonapartists, thought George. It was an altogether disagreeable process.

Hugh's bags were the first to be searched. Among easily the most clothes of the four men he also carried several fine walking sticks; hats, including a military-style bicorn; many alternate riding coats, boots, a set of silverware, and opera glasses. George's valise was heavy with books: the several foreign guides he'd amassed, along with Classical authors like Homer, Plutarch, Livy, and Suetonius. Robert had apparently packed little beyond the essentials, which was just as well since he was notorious for misplacing everything. When, at the end of a good half-hour, the inspectors finally came to Tobias's luggage, everyone was hopeful to soon be on their way to the inn for a well-earned rest. But then, out of the final bag, came something unusual.