Here I am--or rather, here I have been--my most excellent friend, for the last four days--and from hence you will receive probably the last despatch from NORMANDY--from the "land (as I told you in my first epistle) of "castles, churches, and ancient chivalry." An old, well-situated, respectably-inhabited, and even flourishing, town--the birth-place too of our renowned FIRST WILLIAM:--weather, the most serene and inviting--and hospitality, thoroughly hearty, and after the English fashion:--these have all conspired to put me in tolerably good spirits. My health, too, thank God, has been of late a little improved. You wish me to continue the thread of my narrative unbroken; and I take it up therefore from the preparation for my departure from Vire.
I breakfasted, as I told you I was about to do, with my friend and guide Mons. de Larenaudiere; who had prepared quite a sumptuous repast for our participation. Coffee, eggs, sweetmeats, cakes, and all the comfortable paraphernalia of an inviting breakfast-table, convinced us that we were in well-furnished and respectable quarters. Madame did the honours of the meal in perfectly good taste; and one of the loveliest children I ever saw--a lad, of about five or six years of age--with a profusion of hair of the most delicate quality and colour, gave a sort of joyous character to our last meal at Vire. The worthy host told me to forget him, when I reached my own country;[166] and that, if ever business or pleasure brought me again into Normandy, to remember that the Maire de Tallevende-le-Petit would-be always happy to renew his assurances of hospitality. At the same time, he entreated me to pay attention to a list of English books which he put into my hands; and of which he stood considerably in need. We bade farewell in the true English fashion, by a hearty shake of the hands; and, mounting our voiture, gave the signal for departure. "Au plaisir de vous revoir!"--'till a turning of the carriage deprived us of the sight of each other. It is not easy--and I trust it is not natural--for me to forget the last forty-eight hours spent in the interesting town of VIRE!
Our route to this place was equally grand and experimental; grand, as to the width of the road, and beauty of the surrounding country--but experimental, inasmuch as a part of the route royale had been broken up, and rendered wholly impassable for carriages of any weight. Our own, of its kind, was sufficiently light; with a covering of close wicker-work, painted after the fashion of some of our bettermost tilted carts. One Norman horse, in full condition of flesh, with an equal portion of bone and muscle, was to convey us to this place, which cannot be less than twenty- two good long English miles from Vire. The carriage had no springs; and our seat was merely suspended by pieces of leather fastened at each end. At Condé, about one-third of the distance, we baited, to let both man and horse breathe over their dinners; while, strolling about that prettily situated little town, we mingled with the inhabitants, and contemplated the various faces (it being market-day) with no ordinary degree of gratification. Amidst the bustle and variety of the scene, our ears were greeted by the air of an itinerant ballad-singer: nor will you be displeased if I send you a copy of it:--since it is gratifying to find any thing like a return to the good old times of the sixteenth century.
VIVE LE ROI, VIVE L'AMOUR.
François Premier, nous dit l'histoire,
Etoit la fleur des Chevaliers,
Près d'Etampes aux champs de gloire
Il recueillit myrtes et lauriers;
Sa maîtresse toujours fidèle,
Le payant d'un tendre retour,
Lui chantant cette ritournelle;
Vive le Roi, vive l'Amour.
Henri, des princes le modèle,
Ton souvenir est dans nos coeurs,
Par la charmante Gabrielle
Ton front fut couronné de fleurs;
De la Ligue domptant la rage,
Tu sus triompher tour-à-tour,v Par la clémence et ton courage:
Vive le Roi, vive l'Amour.
Amant chéri de la Vallière,
Des ennemis noble vainqueur,
LOUIS savoit combattre et plaire,
Guidé par l'Amour et l'honneur;
A son retour de la Victoire,
Entouré d'une aimable cour,
Il entendoit ce cri de gloire:
Vive le Roi, vive l'Amour.
&c.
There was a freshness of tint, and a comeliness of appearance, among the bourgeoises and common people, which were not to be eclipsed even by the belles of Coutances. Our garçon de poste and his able-bodied quadruped having each properly recruited themselves, we set forward--by preference-- to walk up the very long and somewhat steep hill which rises on the other side of Conde towards Pont Ouilly--in the route hither. Perhaps this was the most considerable ascent we had mounted on foot, since we had left Rouen. The view from the summit richly repaid the toil of using our legs. It was extensive, fruitful, and variegated; but neither rock nor mountain scenery; nor castles, nor country seats; nor cattle, nor the passing traveller--served to mark or to animate it. It was still, pure nature, upon a vast and rich scale: and as the day was fine, and my spirits good, I was resolved to view and to admire.
Pont Ouilly lies in a hollow; with a pretty winding river, which seems to run through its centre. The surrounding hills are gently undulating; and as we descended to the Inn, we observed, over the opposite side of the town, upon the summit of one of the hills, a long procession of men and women--headed by an ecclesiastic, elevating a cross--who were about to celebrate, at some little distance, one of their annual festivals. The effect--as the procession came in contact with a bright blue sky, softened by distance--was uncommonly picturesque ... but the day was getting on fast, and there was yet a considerable distance to perform,--while, in addition, we had to encounter the most impassable part of the road. Besides, I had not yet eaten a morsel since I had left Vire. Upon holding a consultation, therefore, it was resolved to make for the inn, and to dine there. A more sheltered, rural, spot cannot be conceived. It resembled very many of the snug scenes in South Wales. Indeed the whole country was of a character similar to many parts of Monmouthshire; although with a miserable draw-back in respect to the important feature of wood. Through the whole of Normandy, you miss those grand and overshadowing masses of oak, which give to Monmouthshire, and its neighbouring county of Glocester, that rich and majestic appearance which so decidedly marks the character of those counties. However, we are now at the inn at Pont Ouilly. A dish of river fish, gudgeons, dace, and perch, was speedily put in requisition. Good wine, "than which France could boast no better!" and a roast fowl, which the daughter of the hostess "knew how to dress to admiration" ... was all that this humble abode could afford us." "But we were welcome:"--that is, upon condition that we paid our reckoning....