Twenty Years' Recollections of an Irish Police Magistrate

by Frank Thorpe Porter

"A young man of genteel demeanor, his head uncovered and slightly thrown back, called the birds, which came fluttering around him, and took, even from between his lips, the morsels of bread which he offered them. We wished to discover the secret of this curious proceeding, and returned at the same hour on the following day. We experienced a great disappointment; for, instead of a man young and prepossessing, we beheld 'a charmer,' old and wrinkled, no sparkle in his eye, no expression in his looks. He began by throwing into the little railed arbours some morsels, quickly devoured by the bold sparrows. Then, having gradually attracted them, he kept in his hand a further supply of bread, and from the thickets of shrubs, and from the surrounding trees, finally from all quarters of the garden, birds of various species came flocking and fluttering around him. Attaining to a degree of crescendo between him and his feathered guests, he finished by having them perched on his shoulders, and picking the crumbs from between his lips."

Who could the individual have been, thus designated as old, wrinkled, unsparkling, and inexpressive? Oh! I hope that none of my readers will suppose or suspect that such terms were applied to me. I should prefer being considered "a young man of genteel demeanor," but if the other description appears more suitable or probable, then—"What can't be cured must be endured."

BRITTANY.

I left the French capital after a very agreeable residence of eighteen months, and, previous to returning to my native city, availed myself of an invitation from a kind and hospitable friend to pass a month with him at a delightful villa in Brittany, about a couple of miles from St. Malo. Amongst the people of this locality, I observed a vast dissimilitude to the corresponding classes in Paris. Display, and the excitement incident to the metropolitan requirements of frequent and varied amusements, appeared to have very slight attractions for the Bretons, whose pursuits and habits were mostly directed to the acquisition and enjoyment of public advantages and domestic comforts. Their soil did not appear to me to be superior to the generality of that which I have seen in the southern half of Ireland; nor did I consider their climate more genial during the time of my visit, which comprised the latter half of August and the next half of September. Their exports of orchard fruits, butter, eggs, and poultry, from the port of St. Malo, were enormous in quantity, and, I believe, unexceptionable in quality. The external appearance of their firkins and other packages was extremely neat and cleanly, and the butter was liable to inspection previous to its shipment. I was informed by the English Consul that the exportation of butter amounted in the year to twenty-five thousand firkins, and the fowls exceeded one million. On the lands which I had opportunities of viewing in Brittany, I saw very large crops of rape, the seed of which was intended to be crushed for the production of oil, and I have been in three concerns where the rape oil was filtered through charcoal, and thus clarified and qualified for our use as "Colza oil." Buckwheat (blè noir) is considered a valuable crop, and is much used for feeding poultry. The sugar-beet (betterave jaune) is often to be seen, but is generally mistaken by strangers for mangold wurtzel. But the most extraordinary production is one which we could cultivate fully as well and as profitably as the Bretons can, if we were permitted on any terms. I have seen many acres, even on one farm, thickly covered with tobacco growing most luxuriantly. Why cannot we see it on the Irish soil? Why is it utterly prohibited here?

During the wars of the French Revolution and of the first empire, St. Malo was a port almost exclusively appropriated to the outfit and employment of privateers. Few of their cruises were eminently successful; but the greatest prize stated to have been acquired was a large ship, belonging to the English East India Company, which was captured in very foggy weather between Jersey and Southampton. The cargo consisted of the choicest Indian produce, and there was also a very large amount of specie on board. This affair realized an ample fortune for the proprietor of the privateer, who retired from any further speculation in or connection with maritime operations, whether forcible or otherwise, and invested his gains in the purchase of a fine estate in the vicinity of St. Malo. During my visit I was at several delightful entertainments given by families with whom my friend was on intimate terms; and, at one, in St. Servan, a conversation arose relative to the great injury inflicted on the commercial navy of the Northern American States by Southern privateers. One gentleman stigmatized such proceedings as utterly disgraceful, and insisted that no nation should ever promote or even countenance nefarious attack on private property, and the consequent ruin of unarmed and non-belligerent parties. I was much amused when, on our way home from the repast, my friend informed me that the indignant denunciation of privateers was uttered by the possessor of the estate acquired by the capture of the Indiaman, the grandson of the proprietor of the fortunate cruiser.

The religious tendencies of the people of St. Malo formed a very great contrast to those of the Parisians. In these pages I shall not intentionally introduce a word of a controversial or sectarian nature; but I may remark, that whilst in the metropolis, public and private works and commercial avocations were unscrupulously pursued on Sundays; whilst the bricklayer, carpenter, and slater; plied their trades, and numerous carts supplied them with building materials, the provincial town was as still and as quiet as the most rigorous observer of the Sabbath could require in our cities or towns. I went into St. Malo on a Sunday when the procession of Corpus Christi passed through the principal streets, and it appeared to me to produce amongst all classes most devotional effects. The thoroughfare was covered with freshly cut grass and short sprigs of evergreens. Young females dressed in white headed the procession, carrying baskets of flowers, which they occasionally strewed, whilst flowers were abundantly thrown from almost every window. I firmly believe that demonstrations of any inclination to impede or offend the numerous sacerdotal functionaries engaged, would have excited the general populace to a very prompt and violent manifestation against the offenders. I feel equally convinced that any similar religious or ecclesiastical demonstration in Paris could not pass through any street of that city. It would be overwhelmed by mob violence, not from its connection with any particular creed, but from the popular dislike to any form of religion whatever.

CHATEAUBRIAND.

Whilst at St. Malo I visited the tomb of a man, the great attributes of whose character, and the extraordinary incidents of whose life, have been recently made the subject of a most interesting lecture, delivered by my truly learned friend, Professor Robertson, and published, amongst several others, by Mr. Kelly, of this city. I allude to François-René, Viscount de Chateaubriand, who was born at St. Malo in the year 1768, and during a life of eighty years witnessed the outbreak and many of the horrors of the French Revolution; who had, for his personal safety, to undergo exile and penury, until his literary acquirements and productions procured for him the friendship and respect of strangers, and relieved him from indigence. Then, having been enabled to return to France, he published some romances, and also works of a serious description, by which he acquired a high and lasting reputation. Subsequently, having travelled in Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, Palestine, Barbary, and Spain, he made the results of his travels the subject of a most interesting Itinerary. In 1821 he was sent as ambassador to Prussia, and in 1822 was appointed to a similar office at the British Court. Towards the close of the reign of Louis the Eighteenth, he became the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, but did not continue long in office; he died in 1848 at Paris, and his remains were conveyed to St. Malo. I have mentioned Chateaubriand as an illustrious and highly gifted man, and my readers will be greatly surprised when I add—He sleeps in a nameless tomb.

In his lifetime the municipality of St. Malo had, at his request, granted a solitary rock in the bay of that seaport for his place of sepulture. There his coffin was deposited in a grave cut out of the solid stone, and surmounted by a granite cross, which marks the last resting-place of one whose reputation was far more than European. It bears the short and simple inscription of "Here lies a Christian." (Ci git un Chretien.) I believe, however, that the omission of the name has caused all who have seen the tomb to enquire who was its occupant, and has not tended to render him forgotten, or his memory unappreciated by his countrymen.

The foregoing notice of this celebrated native of St. Malo had scarcely been put in type when I received a copy of The Tablet newspaper, containing a communication from a French correspondent relative to the inauguration of a Chateaubriand memorial at St. Malo, on Sunday the 5th of September last. I presume to insert it in these pages, as strongly confirming the opinions I have expressed, and being likely to please and interest the reader by its intrinsic merits.