O! if the tame ones of the earth
Could taste the deep delight,
Of feeling free upon the main,
Whose sway is the bold man's right,
The sea would swarm with rovers,
Whose zeal would never sleep,
While anxiously they gathered
The treasures of the deep!
Montreal, August, 1837. A. A. Macnicol.
[RANDOM PASSAGES]
FROM ROUGH NOTES OF A VISIT TO ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, AND GERMANY.
NUMBER FOUR.
Paris, August, 1836.—After due deliberation respecting the various routes, viz.: first, by Southampton to Havre, and up the Seine; second, by Brighton and Dieppe; third, by steam-boat direct to Calais, or Boulogne; fourth, (the older and most frequented,) by Dover and Calais, or Boulogne; I chose the latter; and in order to be in Paris before Saturday evening, (to-day is Wednesday,) took my outside seat in the night coach to Dover. It was a fine evening, and as we rode out of London through 'the main artery of the right hand of the world,' Charing-Cross, down Whitehall and Parliament-street, over Westminster bridge, and through the villages of Deptford and Greenwich, I had the finest sunset view of the great metropolis, which I had yet seen. A glorious full-moon rose soon after we took leave of the more dazzling luminary, and of course the ride in such an evening was most agreeable. We passed through Gravesend, a bustling and noted town on the Thames, and our course lay for some distance along the margin of the river. At eleven, we stopped for supper at Rochester. The night which looked so promising, was not to be very delightful; a change came over the face of it, in the shape of a cold, thick fog; moreover, that useless and annoying animal, y'clept 'the guard,' kept us awake by a hideous bellowing with a long tin-horn; and altogether, I was abundantly satisfied with my first experiment in riding all night. Day-light came at last, just as we were entering the ancient and honorable town of Canterbury, as weary pilgrims as ever went there in the days of worthy old Chaucer. The cathedral is entirely surrounded by ordinary dwelling-houses, and the massive entrance was at this hour of course closed. We could only get a glimpse of its fine towers. At six A. M., we were set down at the 'Ship Hotel,' at Dover, and only had to pay five shillings more than the regular fare, beside three shillings to the guard, etc., for keeping us awake, and two shillings more for porters, ladders, etc., to the boat, a pigmy affair, y'clept the Britannia, on board of which we descended, after a poor breakfast at the hotel; and in a few minutes we were rapidly receding from the 'white cliffs of England.' The hills along this coast appear to be entirely of chalk, and from a short distance, the shore looks as if partly covered with snow. The castle and heights tower above the town, and the latter give it the appearance of our Brooklyn. The morning was brilliant and cloudless, and the sea scarcely ruffled. So we glided over this far-famed and much-dreaded channel as gently as we should cross from New-York to Jersey City, only taking somewhat longer time to do it. Before we had lost sight of Dover, the coast of 'La Belle France' was very distinct; indeed the two coasts may always be seen from each other, in clear weather. We had three or four baskets of carrier-pigeons on board, which were liberated at intervals, to announce our progress. They are used to communicate important intelligence, and never fail of arriving at their destination in about ten minutes.
The distance from Boulogne to Dover is forty miles. After a voyage of three-and-a-half hours, we made the bustling town of Boulogne, which is prettily situated on the open sea-coast, at the head of a small bay. On an eminence near the town, is a conspicuous monument, commenced by Napoleon to commemorate his (intended) conquest of England,(!) and completed by Louis XVIII., to commemorate Napoleon's downfall!
We sailed up between two long and excellent wood piers, filled with expecting friends, porters, police, soldiers, custom-house officers, etc., and stepping for the first time on the soil of Europe, at least of the continent, I was escorted by a companion through the eager crowd, amid the clamorous calls of the commissioners, 'Hotel du Nord? Hotel D'Angleterre? Hotel D'Orleans? Portmanteau, Monsieur?' and all in a strange tongue. What a jabbering! At a little bureau on the quay our passports were received, and we were permitted to proceed without any personal examination, the commissioner of our hotel (D'Orleans,) taking charge of our luggage, which he 'passed' in an hour, without giving us a word of trouble; but we soon found we were not to escape vexations, for the seats in the diligences, had been engaged for four days to come! This is especially provoking, in such a place as Boulogne. But repining avails not.