1816: the Grandest Tour

France: Chapter 8

The remainder of that afternoon they spent exploring the Ile de la Cité. Hugh found the narrow and dirty alleyways particularly disagreeable, and made no bones about holding a handkerchief to his nose. And though the others made less of a fuss, they couldn't help but agree: much of the old city lay in a putrid state. They had to leave the carriage and walk on foot through many parts, giving as much care as possible to where they stepped for fear of horse dung, sewage, or other effluents. While it was a fitfully bright day in the open, in these old parts the sun's presence was crowded out, whether by smoke, packed-in towers, or the vapor from the black mire oozing down the middle of the street. George examined the narrow stone tenements, crammed together up to seven stories high just like in Edinburgh. And like that city, he mused, they probably contained a whole family on each floor.

They found some relief from these pressures in the square in front of Notre Dame de Paris. It was a lively area, and clearly saw more than its share of English tourists. Immediately upon entering the square they were set upon by a couple of urchins offering their services as 'guides' to the cathedral, but Boxborough firmly rebuffed them, declaring in his polished French that the honor was his alone. Seeing another party of Englishmen and women about to enter the church, the doctor advised that they should avoid those personages as well.

"If an Englishman consorts too much with his own sort abroad," he opined, "he is liable to miss all the charm and variety of visiting the continent." The young gentlemen had never given the matter much thought, but could hardly challenge anything he said by this time.

The cathedral itself they found immense and impressive, if suffering from neglect and the appropriation of its treasures. Boxborough used the location to continue their survey of medieval Paris, pointing out differing parts of the building by their age and significance, adding to this a narration of the principle events in the reigns of each respective monarch. Indeed, by end of just one day the young men (particularly George and Tobias, who took the most interest) could say they were laying the foundations of a good acquaintance with the city's past.

On their return to the Prince de Galles, George once more allowed his fellows to go up to their chambers before inquiring at the desk for any post. When he received the answer that a letter had arrived that day from the Low Countries, his elation can hardly be described. With just a slight tremble in his hand he thanked the concierge for the missive, then to the latter's amusement dashed up the stairs two and three at a time to the sanctuary of this room. In the flick of an eye he'd lifted the seal and was reading:

"Dear Georgie,"

"I'm the most exceeding beast for not replying sooner to your letter. Please forgive me, as it was only the busiest sort of activity here that prevented my writing back."

"Forgiven, my love," said George to himself, fondly shaking his head. The letter continued:

"We've been in the Kingdom of the Netherlands a good month. And I can tell you most certainly, I've now seen more dykes, windmills, and quaint genre paintings than I ever dreamed existed in one place. That's not to say I've completely tired of Dutch pictures: Rembrandt and Hals are very fine, and a good number of the galleries permit me and Mademoiselle to copy their best paintings. They give us entirely more compliments on our work than I'm sure we deserve!"

This 'Mademoiselle' his Susan mentioned was Clémentine de Sotisse, the girl's governess. An émigrée who fled France's Jacobins with her family in '93, she was only seven years older than Susan. George had often thought she lacked some of the seriousness such a lady should have, but by reading French novels to each other she had certainly given Susan a thorough grounding in the language.

"And upon my word," Susan wrote, "the Dutch are the queerest people I have ever met. They seem to love nothing more than laboring away in quest of more gold. Not even their animals escape the mania: for any beast, no matter how small, that can be made to pull a wagon or carry a load is put to the task straightaway. It's from this that you see so many Dutchmen sitting happily in their carts, tugged along through the street by a goat or a dog! I wish you could see them yourself, we have so laughed."