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PEREGRINE IN FRANCE.

A Lounger's Journal,

IN FAMILIAR LETTERS TO HIS FRIEND.


                     "And in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
With observation--the which he vents
In _mangled forms_."

                                AS YOU LIKE IT.


_LONDON:_

_Printed by Thomas Davison, Whitefriars_,
FOR JAMES HARPER AND CO., 46, FLEET-STREET.

1816.




PREFACE.


The friend who has ventured to send these letters to the press feels
it necessary to state, in apology for the insufficiency of such a
trifle to meet the public eye, that they are actually published
without the knowledge of Peregrine (who is still abroad) and chiefly
with the view of giving copies to the numerous friends by whom he is
so justly regarded. The editor, therefore, relying on the indulgence
of those friends, humbly also deprecates the stranger critic's
censure, both for poor Peregrine and himself.




LETTER I.


Paris, December 14, 1815.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Arrived safely at this interesting metropolis, I take the earliest
opportunity of relieving the affectionate anxiety you expressed over
our parting glass, by the assurance that I have happily escaped all
the evils prognosticated by some of our acquaintance from a journey at
this inclement season.

Those indeed of the inquisitive family of John Bull, who look only
for luxury and convenience in travelling, will do well never to
leave the comforts of their own happy island from motives of
expected pleasure, as they will be sure to be fretted by a series
of petty disappointments and vexations which fall to the lot of every
traveller. A little forethought may occasionally be necessary, but I
am convinced that he alone will truly enjoy a continental trip who
knows how at once to reconcile himself to the chances of the moment,
derive from them all the good he can, thank God for it,--and be
satisfied.

Without more prosing I will endeavour to comply with Mrs. ----'s
request, and, trying to overcome my propensity to lounging indolence,
send you, from time to time, such crude observations as may suggest
themselves in my peregrinations through some of the towns and
provinces of France, and during my short stay in the capital; although
I fear all novelty on this subject has already met your eye, from the
abler pens of more accomplished tourists.

At Dover I repaired immediately to the York Hotel, where the host and
hostess justified all you had told me of their attention and civility.
I found that the mail packet would attempt to get out of harbour on
Saturday afternoon; the captain had in vain endeavoured to put to sea
that morning: however, we succeeded on a second trial, and held one
course to Boulogne, which we reached in about four hours. The vessel
was very much crowded, having the mails of four days on board, and the
accumulation of four days' passengers. It was very cold, and I was, as
usual, sea-sick. I went on shore about eleven o'clock that night, and
was conducted to an hotel in the upper town, all those of the lower
town, which are the best, being full. I took under my protection an
English lady proceeding to her husband at Havre-de-Grace. We knocked
up the host, hostess, and drowsy servants, who, however, soon cooked
us some broiled whitings and lean mutton-chops (_coutelets de
mouton_); and after having taken a little _eau de vie_ and warm
Burgundy, I was conducted to my bed-room, having first seen my fellow
traveller safely lodged in hers. The waiter, "_garcon_," was an
Englishman, with all the obliging willingness of the French. I was
surprised to find my dormitory so comfortable, having supped in a
dirty _un_comfortable apartment, in which I believe slept mine host
and his wife, whom we had routed out of their snug quarters from an
alcove at one corner of it. My said bed-chamber was large, and on the
ground floor; at one end was a good wood fire blazing on the hearth,
and at the other a comfortable bed in a recess, with clean sheets,
&c.; over the fire-place a very fine chimney-glass, and upon a large
clumsy deal table stood a basin and ewer of thick French earthenware
and of peculiar form, the basin having that of an English salad-bowl
with a flat bottom,--of course it is inconvenient for its purpose.
Soap is only brought when you ask for it, and is an extra charge. All
the bed-chambers I have yet seen answer this description, which
perhaps you will think tedious; but every thing at the moment, with
the warm colouring of first impressions in a foreign country, was
interesting to me.

On going to the custom-house next morning, I found all my baggage,
except my drawing table, camera, and apparatus; I hope to regain them,
as I gave directions to Mrs. Parker, an Englishwoman, who keeps the
Hotel d'Angleterre, to forward them to me at