Our voyage was far from being an unpleasant one. We were not entirely out of sight of land, as Dover was behind or Calais before us all the time, for in fair weather these are always in view. The steamers are strong and adapted for their work. They are about the size of those that ply in our harbor, the John A. Andrew if you please; but white paint for a steamer is quite distasteful to people of the region we are in. Black is to them the fine and good color. No money is to be expended for nice inside finish as in the Andrew; but everything is solid and neat, and we ought to be generous enough to say, "as good as need be," and we will say it.
Generally this Channel is rough and boisterous. Currents and winds through this great valley of the land and sea are so in conflict, that seldom is there a calmer or even as calm a time as we had. Now the two hours end, and we are nearing shore. England has been left behind, with pleasant memories that it wouldn't take much reflection to transform into regrets; yet all is lighted up with good anticipations, for we two Bostonians are soon to stand on the soil of Imperial France. The thought even now kindles peculiar emotions. Sunny France! an elastic people, brilliant in exploit; its great metropolis the epitome of a remarkable civilization! We thus thought of it then, and thus we think of it now. The steamer slackens her speed, and we are on the upper deck, ready to land at
CALAIS.
But two hours' sail across the Channel, and we are now, at 12 m. of Wednesday, June 19, standing on French soil, and though but 21 miles from England, and people of the two places have been for centuries crossing the Channel and communicating with each other, still, things here are peculiar and have an outlandish look. It is like Dover, somewhat of a watering-place; and there is a fine beach, with a large chateau-like hotel on the right shore as we enter. The wharf at which we land is an old wooden structure, and everything about it has an aged look. We did not go up into the city, but remained at the wharf for the departure of the train which was already there and in waiting. We now began to hear French talked as the rule, and English as the exception. The station was quite a large and substantial structure of brick, and here was what was called a café, or, as we should say, a restaurant. The art of restaurating is not well developed outside of America. Lager beer, sandwiches, and a few ordinary cakes are about all that can be found. In a distant part of the building dinner could be had at a cost of about a dollar. In fact people when they came into the car were complaining loudly: first, of the lack of things to eat; next, of quantity; and finally, of exorbitant prices. This was a fair sample of a majority of all we met with. A mild rain was falling, and we contented ourselves with remaining about the station nearly an hour.
Calais is one of the seaports of France, 19 miles from Boulogne, and 150 miles north of Paris, which—added to the 21 miles from Calais to Dover, and the 62 miles from there to London—makes the distance from the place last named to Paris 233 miles, or the same distance as between New York and Boston. Its population in 1866 was 12,727, or about double that of our Calais, Maine, that being 5,944. Both are border towns, with the English opposite. It is situated on a rather barren district, the surrounding country being of cheap land, and under poor cultivation. A great difference exists in these respects on the two sides of the water. The place is well fortified by a citadel and quite a number of forts; being one of the border towns, it has, like those of England, been subject to constant invasions.
The harbor is formed of long wooden piers, and is very shallow. It has a lighthouse 190 feet high, which is very commanding in effect, and adds much to the look of the place as one of commerce. Steamers ply daily, and at times quite often, across the Straits of Dover to England. The streets are broad and level, and so far as we saw, were well paved. The houses were neat, and mostly of stone or brick, though a portion of them were wooden. What are called the ramparts afford a good promenade, and it is said that, as a general thing, English is the spoken language. Among the noteworthy buildings is the old church of Nôtre Dame,—a favorite name for French churches,—the words meaning Our Lady, an allusion to the Virgin Mary. This church contains the celebrated painting of the Assumption by Vandyke.
The Hôtel de Ville is a very old and large structure containing the public city offices, and has a high tower and belfry, with clock and chime of bells. Another ancient structure is the Hôtel de Guise, an edifice erected for the wool-stapler's guild—an institution founded by Edward III. There are various statues and busts of distinguished men in the more public places; but what is a very conspicuous object is the Tower of Guet, which dates back to 1214, or 669 years ago. It was for centuries used as a lighthouse; and, though having a history of one third of the time from the Christian era, as Longfellow has said of the Belfry of Bruges, "still it watches o'er the town."
Prior to the twelfth century Calais was an insignificant fishing-village; but Baldwin IV., Count of Flanders, was especially pleased with the location, and realizing its importance as a seaport, and its possibilities as a place of resort for sea-bathing and summer residence, greatly improved it, and about the year 997, expended much money for its advancement. Philip of France, Count of Boulogne, in the early part of the thirteenth century enlarged and strengthened its fortifications.
It was invaded by the English, and in 1347 it was, after a long siege, taken by King Edward II.; and in the negotiations for peace, Eustace St. Pierre, and five companions were accepted as a ransom for the entire population, and finally, they themselves had their lives spared by the intercession of the wife of Edward, Queen Philippa. From that time it remained in possession of the English a period of 211 years, when in 1558, it was besieged by the French under the Duke of Guise; and with the exception of the years 1596-8, when it was in the hands of the Spaniards, it has remained in comparatively quiet possession of the French.
It has been from first to last a somewhat memorable place, and has played an important part in history. Charles II. of England, after the battle of Worcester, Sept. 3, 1651, fled to France; but the peace of 1655 forced him to leave the country and he went to Bruges, and remained there and at Brussels till he heard of Cromwell's death in 1658, when, in order to avail himself of the great confusion it caused in England, he ventured to station himself at Calais, which he did in August of 1659; and, with this as his headquarters, he opened negotiations with General Monk, which ended in his being proclaimed king of England, May 8, 1660.