It is customary at Marseilles, for the inhabitants in great numbers, to go to the outsides of the harbour early in the morning to bathe, for which purpose the females take the left hand, and the men the right. We were induced to follow this good example, and found the bathing delightful; we were carried by boats into about five feet water, with a fine sandy bottom, and steps were then thrown out to enable us conveniently to get into the water, and out again; but I preferred throwing myself from off the gunwale and diving for some yards, after which, I swam out to sea, to the astonishment of my friends and the surrounding strangers, who were rendered sensible of my loss of sight, by my occasionally calling out to ascertain the direction of the boat.
On the eve of our return to Aix, Mr. H. W⸺, a spirited young naval officer, determined to repeat his bathing in the close of the evening, and notwithstanding our solicitations to the contrary, insisted upon going alone, although quite unacquainted with the French language. His impetuosity led him into an adventure, which might have terminated in fatal results, and, at all events, compelled us to hasten our departure, under circumstances in some degree equivocal. On quitting his boat, he offered the man who belonged to it, the same remuneration he had on former occasions paid, which however was refused; my friend walked off, and the man followed him, talking loudly in an unintelligible manner; at length he laid hold of him by the skirt of his coat, when W⸺, turning round, knocked him down; a mob soon collected, who taking the boatman’s part, proceeded to beat our young friend most unmercifully, and probably would have murdered him, had not some gentlemen interfered and extricated him; one of these had the kindness to accompany him home, and requested we would not venture into the streets, until the affair had been arranged with the police, to whom he offered to accompany us on the following morning. We acknowledged his kindness, but concealed our intention of quitting Marseilles at five o’clock in the morning; in short, we thought it better to avail ourselves of this chance of getting rid of the affair, not however, without some apprehension of being pursued.
In fact, in two or three days after our return to Aix, it was announced, that a person from Marseilles was enquiring for two gentlemen who had lately been at the Hotel des Ambassador, in that place; we immediately pictured to our imaginations, a police officer, with a warrant in his hand, but it proved to be one of the waiters, who had called to apprise us of a mistake of six francs, against us, in making out our bill, which we paid with much satisfaction, as flattering ourselves that we had now fully outwitted the police.
The month of September having considerably advanced, and the weather becoming sensibly colder, I began to think of suspending the use of the hot baths, and removing to a milder climate. I had the pleasure, however, of thinking my health materially improved, my eyes in particular felt lighter, and I fancied that I could occasionally discern a flash of light from the under part of the left one. I selected Nice for my winter’s residence, and on the 14th of September left Aix in the diligence, for Antibes, taking leave of the last town in France, where I proposed making any extended residence.
It is not easy to describe my emotions in quitting a people, with whose language and habits I was now becoming well acquainted, and to whom I felt a degree of attachment, grounded, if not upon congeniality of sentiment, at least upon a grateful sense of repeated acts of kindness, and attention, which I had experienced from them.
It is true, that I was fully alive to all the anticipated enjoyments of a land of promise; the favoured Italy, highly gifted by nature and art; the cradle of genius; the birth-place of poets, orators, and warriors; and once the sole arbitress of the fate of the world.
I sought consolation in reflections of this nature, and in repeating the lines of a favourite poet.
“Hope must brighten days to come
While memory gilds the past.”