Lille, May 17, 1840.—This morning before leaving Amiens we heard mass in the fine cathedral. The 17th of May is a date of special import to myself. I gave myself some credit for going to mass so far from the house of the rector of the Academy, M. Martin, with whom we put up; then it was raining hard, and the Picard streets are very dirty and the pavement detestable.
The cathedral is really magnificent; strength, grace, and boldness are combined; stained-glass windows alone are wanting, as the light is too bright. I prayed with all my heart for the dead and for the living, and for the travellers who are to entrust themselves to the sea or traverse unknown lands.
On the road from Amiens to this town I read the Diable boiteux, the merits of which do not attract me in the least. The stories are too monotonous and uninteresting, and the constant tone of mockery and satire, which is not supported by the fine verse of Boileau, quite disgusted me. However, I have read it, and am glad it is over. I now know the nature of this book, which has had a certain reputation.
We had a better journey than yesterday. Our servants have gone to the office to arrange for to-morrow's journey, which will be complicated by the Belgian railways. After the mediocrity of Amiens and Arras, where I had some broth this morning, Lille strikes one as a large if not a great town, but I must admit that at present my travelling curiosity is benumbed and my interest remarkably dull.
Liège, May 18, 1840.—We have been fourteen mortal hours on the journey from Lille to this town, notwithstanding the help of the railway. The fact is that to make use of the railway it is necessary to make a round of twenty leagues, which considerably diminishes the advantage of it. From Courtrai one must go up to Gand, touch Malines, and then to Liège by Louvain and Tirlemont. A vast amount of time is wasted in stoppages at the numerous stations. Moreover, if one takes one's own carriage time is required to put it on a truck and take it off again, while the expense for the freight of carriages is so heavy that nothing is saved by the railway. It is certainly a marvellous invention, and the machinery is interesting. All is worked with perfect punctuality and order, but at the same time it is an unpleasant way of travelling, to my taste. There is no time to see anything; for instance, we passed along the outer walls of several towns which I should have liked to examine; we did not even pass through villages, but went straight across country, with no other event than occasional tunnels, cold and damp, in which the smoke of the engine becomes thick enough to choke one. Even though the wind carries away the smoke, it and the rattling of the engine would make you imagine yourself upon a steamboat. Imagination was the easier in my case as sickness and a certain stupefaction never left me. In short, I arrived worn out and more and more displeased with the fatigues and weariness of my enterprise. At Menin we were told to get out in a bitter wind to be searched by the Custom House officials; only when the examination was half over did they ask for our passports; upon seeing our rank the Inspector of Customs checked the ardour of his subordinates and allowed us to go. The fortress of Menin is most carefully kept, and as clean and well restored as it can be; and yet, if I am not wrong, I think that our protocols had required its destruction.
I was struck with great admiration for the wealth and the good cultivation of all Belgium, and if I had been able to satisfy my taste for old buildings by visiting Ghent, Malines, and other places I should have been consoled.
Bergheim, May 19, 1840.—To travel from Liège to Cologne would have been too long a day, so we are sleeping here in a very clean little inn, though we have no means of warming ourselves, in spite of the fact that the wind is icy. It is something of a hardship to be forced to go without a fire or to be suffocated by a cast-iron stove. I am undoubtedly a very ungrateful daughter of Germany, as I find numberless material discomforts which I did not suspect in past years, but which now cause me considerable exasperation.
I was greatly struck by the delightful country through which we passed on the road from Liège to Aix-la-Chapelle by way of Verviers. Chaudfontaine especially is a charming spot. The direct road would have been through Battice, but this road is out of use and repair, and we were directed from Liège to Verviers. The richness and beauty of the countryside, the activity of the factories, and the river valleys made the scene entirely animated and agreeable.
I was struck by the changed appearance of Aix-la-Chapelle. Although the watering season had not yet commenced, the town was as animated as possible; there are plenty of fine shops and new houses. At the same time I should not care to take the waters there, as there is nothing countrified about the place, and the walks are all too distant. To-day I read a large part of a book by the Président de Brosses, Italy a Hundred Years Ago. It is written with vigour and cheerfulness, wit and fancy, but the spirit of the eighteenth century and the writer's peculiar cynicism are obvious at every page.
Cologne, May 20, 1840.—We have reached here so early that we have decided to travel another dozen leagues to-day, after seeing Frau von Binzer, changing our money, and buying some eau de Cologne. How cold it is here! The change of climate becomes more and more perceptible.