CHAPTER II.
DISCOMFORTS OF THE CHANNEL—AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY—HORRORS OF THE ROTONDE—A TRAVELLER’S TOILETTE—CHALONS SUR SOANE—LYONS—A TRANSPLANTED ENGINEER—THE RHONE—ARLES—THE MEDITERRANEAN—MARSEILLES.
DISCOMFORTS OF THE CHANNEL—AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY—HORRORS OF THE ROTONDE—A TRAVELLER’S TOILETTE—CHALONS SUR SOANE—LYONS—A TRANSPLANTED ENGINEER—THE RHONE—ARLES—THE MEDITERRANEAN—MARSEILLES.
My friend and I embarked at Southampton about nightfall, in the “Robert Burns,” but had scarcely been an hour under weigh, before the breakage of a piston-key occurred, of which the necessary repair caused considerable delay. A fresh breeze too springing up, introduced us to all the horrors of a Channel trip, affording the ladies a good pretext for imbibing sundry steaming glasses of brandy and water, which, as I sat on deck, I remarked disappearing by twos and threes down the “companion.” One good lady solemnly protested that nothing should ever induce her to return to England bywater. I fear it will be a long while before she gets back again.
On landing at Havre, it occurred to me that I had entirely forgotten to call at the Overland office for the despatches I was to carry out to Alexandria. A pretty sample this of mytalent for “business!” I was at a loss whether to go forward or return to London for them, but finding that I had at least safely retainedMr.Wateley’s letter, which would serve as an introduction for me, I hurried my friend to the Diligence office, and secured the coupè for Paris.
Here I made a halt of one night only, finding, on inquiry at the bureau of Lafitte, Caillard, that my place was duly booked to Marseilles. Every one knows the misery of a protracted journey in the “rotonde” of a French diligence: the wearisome imprisonment of two nights and days, rendered doubly agonizing by the horrors of a middle seat, where the unfortunate traveller, lulled perchance by fatigue into temporary forgetfulness, seeks a pillow on the shoulder of one neighbour, to be gruntingly repulsed to that of another, equally inexorable. I need not therefore describe the coach breakfast at Auxerre, nor how we all fought for a pie-dish of cold water at Saulieu to lay the dust in our eyes; nor how the conductor, in a blue blouse, would insist upon squeezing himself in among us, to have a whiff at his pipe, because three out of the four in the rotonde were comely French lasses, and the only females in the vehicle.
We reached Chalons sur Soane at last, though only just in time for the steamer, which was on the point of starting aswe drove on to the quay. My unfortunate portmanteau was in fact the last article which found its way on board after me, as I made a desperate leap to the paddle box, which I succeeded in reaching with difficulty. Paying immediate court to the steward, I obtained just enough water to relieve my face from its thick coating of white dust, and then sat down to some mutton and olives, which served, when moistened by a bottle of theViu du pays, to restore my equanimity, though I did not feel fairly comfortable until after a warm bath at the Hotel de Provence at Lyons. Here I wrote a few letters, and read for the twentieth time my introductory letter to the agent at Alexandria, which consisted at the very most of five lines, and entered into no particulars of the service for which I had been engaged, referring for such, to the despatches I had so unaccountably left behind me.
The following morning dawned as brightly as the most fastidious traveller could desire, and the waiter having called me full two hours earlier than there was any occasion for, I had ample time to enjoy mymatinof coffee before going down to the quay, where the Arles steamer lay at her moorings. Here all was bustle and activity, and every one seemed so busy, that I had explored nearly the whole of the ship before any one took any notice of me, and was proceeding tomake a critical survey of the engine-room, when a surly voice inquired, “Now then, wot areyouarter?” I had scarce time to reply, before I was recognized by the querist, one of M.’s old men, promoted to the drivership of a Rhone steamer. The conversation of this man, during the time occupied in getting up the steam, afforded me no little amusement, for he was full of the grievances of French habits and customs, and declared he should never be quitecomfortable like, until he had taken a drink of beer “out of the pewter.”
On emerging from the hot and greasy engine-room into upper air, I found the deck completely covered with huge bales of merchandize, going to Beaucaire, where there is a very large annual fair. We had too a considerable number of passengers, and it was long past the right hour for starting, when we cast off, and floated quickly into the middle of theRhone, which is extremely rapid, and carried us down at the rate of twelve or fourteen knots an hour. We touched at many large towns in our passage down the river, and the manœuvering of our captain to effect a stoppage in the right place was somewhat curious. His order (in English) to “ease her” would be given about a furlong above the particular point to be made, and our vessel’s head brought round towards the current, as she drifted downwards. Then followedthe order “go on ahead;” and thus with about half steam on, and apparently retracing our course, we generally managed to hit the place to a nicety.
The banks of the Rhone, though generally but little wooded, are, in some places, highly picturesque. Here and there, an old castle in ruins, perched on a high and naked rock, forms a pretty feature in the passing landscape, though we shot so quickly by, that we had barely time to remark anything. As we neared the Pont duSt.Esprit, the river became more rapid, and when I caught sight of the bridge, with its twenty or more arches, and compared their apparent width with that of our good ship, I confess to having shared rather largely in the general feeling of uneasiness, and selected a loose table to lay hold of in the event of a smash. We shot through, however, almost before we were aware of it, clearing the sides by a foot or two only. The dexterity with which the Rhone pilots manage these large vessels in so swift a stream is really remarkable. At Avignon we put on shore many of our passengers, who preferred proceeding by “diligence” to Marseilles, and at Beaucaire we were detained an hour in discharging our bulky merchandize, so that it was dark ere we made a final halt at Arles, a town of considerable antiquity, on the left bank of the river. There was a greatscrimmage for beds on the part of some few of the English on board; for our countrymen, when on their travels, are very prone to betray a feeling of selfishness, which astonishes, and often disgusts, our neighbours on the other side the Channel. I stuck to my trunks, which I am never satisfied to leave to the tender mercies of a porter, and on arriving at the wretched inn, I found but one bed-room unoccupied, and this I was glad enough to appropriate, although my mattress of Indian corn was so filled with sundry unpleasant nocturnal disturbers, that I had no great reason to be elated at my good fortune.
I had no time to view the antiquities of the ancient city of Arles, so was fain to satisfy myself with a sufficiently lucid description of them, to be found in Murray’s hand-book. We had a delightful steam to Marseilles, though the change from the sweetness of the sea-breeze and blue water, to the stinks and exhalations of its closed harbour, was any thing but refreshing. From its very narrow outlet, the port of Marseilles is perhaps as bad in this respect as any in the Mediterranean. The custom-house was soon passed, for, contrary to my expectation, I had nothing to pay. How they manage to keep a watch over the whole of this large harbour, I can scarcely imagine; land where you will, atany of its numberless steps, or jump quietly ashore from between the hulks of two big ships, and you are equally sure to be popped upon by some sleepless custom-house official.
I took up my quarters at the “Hotel Paradis,” agreeably to a recommendation I had received before leaving London, and a more comfortable inn I was seldom at, though at many a more expensive one. On going down to the quay appropriated to the Levant steamers, I discovered that a berth had been secured for me as far as Alexandria, on board the “Minos,” and that she was not to sail for two days. These I employed in seeing what I could of the town and its environs, though there is but little to interest the passing stranger. I think the greater part of my time was spent in rattling about in “cabriolets,” for the heat was so oppressive that to walk with any comfort was impossible. On a hill above the town, there are some pleasant gardens, laid out by Napoleon, which command a beautiful sea-view. Here of an evening, one may meet the worthy Marsiglians, with their wives and daughters, who enjoy their coffee and small beer, away from the dust and heat of the city. I had the temerity to venture into the theatre, but before the end of the first act, was glad to make a precipitate retreat in favourof a neighbouring “cafè,” where, sipping raspberry-water, I was treated to a concert on the gratis principle, which I found nearly as good as “Les Diamans de la Couronne,” much cooler, and less expensive.