Travels in France during the years 1814-1815 - Patrick Fraser Tytler (good books to read in english txt) 📗

JOURNEY TO FLANDERS.

When we left Paris, we took the road to Soissons and Laon, with a view to see the seat of war during the previous campaign, and examine the interesting country of Flanders. After passing the village of La Villette, and the heights of Belleville, the country becomes flat and uninteresting, and is distinguished by those features which characterise almost all the level agricultural districts of France. The road, which is of great breadth, and paved in the centre, runs through a continued plain, in which, as far as the eye can reach, nothing is to be discerned but a vast expanse of corn fields, varied at intervals by fallows, and small tracts of lucerne and sainfoin. No inclosures are to be met with; few woods are seen to vary the uniformity of the view; and the level surface of the ground is only broken at intervals by the long rows of fruit-trees, which intersect the country in different directions, or the tall avenues of elms between which the chaussèes are placed.

These elm trees would give a magnificent appearance to the roads, both from their age and the immense length during which they fringe its sides, were it not that they are uniformly clipt to the very top, for firewood, by the peasantry, and that all their natural beauty is in consequence destroyed. The elm, indeed, pushes out its shoots to replace the branches which have been destroyed, and fringes the lofty stem with a cluster of foliage; but as soon as these young branches have become large, they too are in their turn sacrificed to the same purpose. When seen from a distance, accordingly, these trees resemble tall May-poles with tufts at their tops, and are hardly to be distinguished from the Lombardy poplars, which, in many parts of the country, line the sides of the principal roads.

One most remarkable circumstance in the agricultural districts of France, is here to be seen in its full extent. The people do not dwell in detached cottages, placed in the centre of their farms or their properties, as in all parts of England; they live together in aged villages or boroughs, often at the distance of two or three miles from the place of their labour, and wholly separated from the farms which they are employed in cultivating. It is no uncommon thing accordingly, to see a farmer leaving a little town in the morning with his ploughs and horses, to go to his piece of ground, which lies many miles from the place of his residence.

This circumstance, which exists more or less in every part of France, is characteristic of the state in which the people were placed in those remote periods, when their habits of life were originally formed. It indicates that popular degradation and public insecurity, when the poor were compelled to unite themselves in villages or towns for protection from the banditti, whom the government was unable to restrain, or from the more desolating oppression of feudal power. In every country of Europe, in which the feudal tyranny long subsisted; in Spain, in France, in Poland, and in Hungary, this custom has prevailed to a certain extent, and the remains of it are still to be seen in the remoter parts of Scotland. It is in countries alone whose freedom has long subsisted; in Switzerland, in Flanders, and in England, that no traces of its effects are to be discerned in the manners and the condition of the peasantry; that the enjoyment of individual security has enabled the poor to spread themselves in fearless confidence over the country; and that the traveller, in admiring the union of natural beauty with general prosperity, which the appearance of the country exhibits, blesses that government, by the influence of whose equal laws that delightful union has been effected.

In the neighbourhood of Paris, and in those situations which are favourable for vineyard or garden cultivation, this circumstance gives a very singular aspect to the face of the country. As far as the eye can reach, the sloping banks, or rising swells, are cultivated with the utmost care, and intersected by little paths, which wind through the gardens, or among the vineyards, in the most beautiful manner; yet no traces of human habitation are to be discerned, by whose labour, or for whose use, this admirable cultivation has been conducted. The labourers, or proprietors of these gardens, dwell at the distance of miles, in antiquated villages, which resemble the old boroughs which are now wearing out in the improved parts of Scotland. In the greater part of France, the people dwell in this manner, in crowded villages, while the open country, every where cultivated, is but seldom inhabited. The superiority, accordingly, in the beauty of those districts, where the cottages are sprinkled over the country, and surrounded by fruit-trees, is greater than can well be imagined: and it is owing to this circumstance that Picardy, Artois, and Normandy, exhibit so much more pleasing an appearance, than most of the other provinces of France.

In the district between Paris and Soissons, as in almost every other part of the country, the land is now in the hands of the peasantry, who became proprietors of it during the struggles of the revolution. We had every where occasion to observe the extreme industry with which the people conduct their cultivation, and perceived numerous instances of the truth of Mr Young's observation, "that there is no such instigator to severe and incessant labour, as the minute subdivision of landed property." But though their industry was uniformly in the highest degree laudable, yet we could not help deploring the ignorant and unskilful manner in which this industry is directed. The cultivation is still carried on after the miserable rotation which so justly excited the indignation of Mr Young previous to the commencement of the revolution. Wheat, barley or oats, sainfoin, lucerne or clover, and fallow, form the universal rotation. The green crops are uniformly cut, and carried into the house for the cattle; as there are no inclosures, there is no such thing as pasturage in the fields; and, except once on the banks of the Oise, we never saw cattle pasturing in those parts of France. The small quantity of lucerne and sainfoin, moreover, shews that there are but few herds in this part of France, and that meat, butter, or cheese, form but a small part of the food of the peasantry. Normandy, in fact, is the only pasture district of France, and the produce of the dairy there is principally intended for the markets of Paris.

The soil is apparently excellent the whole way, composed of a loam in some places, mixed with clay and sand, and extremely easily worked. Miserable fallows are often seen, on which the sheep pick up a wretched subsistence—their lean sides and meagre limbs exhibit the effects of the scanty food which they are able to obtain. The ploughing to us appeared excellent; but we were unable to determine whether this was to be imputed to the skilfulness of the labourer, or the light friable nature of the soil.

The property of the peasantry is not surrounded by any enclosures, nor are there any visible marks whereby their separate boundaries could be determined by the eye of a stranger. The plain exhibits one unbroken surface of corn or vineyards, and appears as if it all formed a part of one boundless property. The vast expanse, however, is in fact subdivided into an infinite number of small estates, the proprietors of which dwell in the aged boroughs through which the road occasionally passes, and the extremities of which are marked by great stones fixed on their ends, which are concealed from a passenger by the luxuriant corn in which they are enveloped. This description applies to the grain districts in almost every part of France.

Although the condition of the peasantry has been greatly ameliorated, in consequence of the division of landed property since the revolution, yet their increased wealth has not yet had any influence on the state of their habitations, or the general comfort of their dwellings. This rises from the nature of the contributions to which they were subjected during the despotic governments which succeeded the first years of the revolution. These contributions were levied by the governors of districts in the most arbitrary manner. The arrondissement was assessed at a certain sum by the government, or a certain contribution for the support of the war was imposed; and the sum was proportioned out among the different inhabitants, according to the discretion of the collector. Any appearance of comfort, accordingly, among the peasantry, was immediately followed by an increased contribution, and heavier taxes; and hence the people never ventured to make any display of their increased wealth in their dwellings, or in any article of their expenditure, which might attract, the notice of the collectors of the imperial revenue. The burdens to which they were subjected, moreover, especially during the last years of the war, were extremely severe, arising both from the enormous sums requisite to save their sons from the conscription, and the heavy unequal contributions to which they were subjected.

From these causes, the division of landed property has not yet produced that striking amelioration in the habits and present comfort of the peasantry, which generally attend this important measure; and their wealth is rather hoarded up, after the eastern custom, for future, emergencies or spent in the support of an early marriage; and never lavished in the fearless enjoyment of present opulence.

In some respects, however, their appearance evidently bears the mark of the improvement in their situation. Their dress is upon the whole neat and comfortable, covered in general by a species of smock frock of a light blue colour, and exhibiting none of that miserable appearance which Mr Young described as characterising the labouring classes during his time. They evidently had the aspect of being well fed, and both in their figures and dress, afforded a striking contrast to the wretched and decrepid inhabitants of the towns, in whom the real poverty of the people, under the old regime, was still perceptible. In some of these towns, the appearance of the beggars, their extraordinary figures, and tattered dress, exhibited a spectacle which would have been inconceivably ludicrous, were it not for the melancholy ideas of abject poverty which it necessarily conveyed.

About twenty miles from Soissons, the road passes through the magnificent forest of Villars Coterets, which, in the luxuriance and extent of its woods, rivals the forest of Fontainbleau. The place on which it stands is varied by rising grounds, and the distance exhibits beautiful vistas of forest scenery and gentle swells, adorned by rich and varied foliage. It wants, however, those grand and striking features, that mixture of rock and wood, of forest gloom and savage scenery, which give so unrivalled a charm to the forest of Fontainbleau.

From Villars Coterets, the road lies over a high plateau, covered with grain, and exhibiting more than ordinary barrenness and desolation. After passing over this dreary track, you arrive at the edge of a steep declivity, which shelves down to the valley in which the Aisne wanders. The appearance of this valley is extremely beautiful. It is sheltered by high ridges, or sloping hills, covered with vineyards, orchards, and luxuriant woods: the little plain is studded with villas and neat cottages, embosomed in trees, or surrounded by green meadows, in which the winding course of the Aisne can at intervals be discerned. When we reached this spot, the sun had newly risen; his level rays illuminated the white cottages with which the valley is sprinkled, or glittered on the stream which winded through its plain; while the Gothic towers of Soissons threw a long shadow over the green fields which surrounded its walls. It reminded us of those lines in Thomson, in which the effect of the morning light is so beautifully