SIX WEEKS ON THE LOIRE.
'THIS is what used to be called a Sentimental Tour ; by which is meant, a narrative that borrows its charms rather from reflecting the thoughts of the traveller than describing the objects en- countered. The most pleasing of all descriptions, however, are those which tell us of the associations called up by the scenes : a literal enumeration of features is as dull as it is in fact unde- ,scriptive.
Six Weeks on the Loire is the wanderings of a lady of poetical temperament, education, and social turn of mind, in one of the most interesting districts of Europe. It is interesting by its beauties of nature, for its venerable history, for its monuments of the past, for the character of its inhabitants, for the sakevents which have taken place in it within the memory of the living, and which were in a degree being acted while the authoress and her party pursued their peaceful way down the placid and beautiful 'Loire.
Modern France, under all its late changes, is but imperfectly known in this country : few travellers have done more than pass through it : we are indebted to the Paris newspapers almost wholly for all that we know of its interior. If we are not mistaken, this is the first publication since the late Revolution that gives any in- formation as to the state of an interior department, whether soci- ally or politically. The authoress was fortunate enough to pass through a portion of Vend6e at a time when the Duchesse DE BERRI was preaching her crusade,—fortunate only in that it enabled her to judge of the country under some excitement; unfortunate, perhaps, she thought it at the time, because it disturbed the tran- quillity of the journey, and on several occasions was the cause of some inconvenience. Nay, the authoress in more than one in- stance was shrewdly suspected of being the turbulent Duchesse herself; and, after being refused bed and board at night by an aubergiste, it was but poor consolation to learn that it was because ".Madame avait une air si distinguee,"—to say nothing of being everywhere watched by a gensd'arme, or to have to submit to much vexatious obstruction in the viseing of the abominable pass- port. The authoress descended the Loire when the Chouans were in a state of their greatest activity ; which seems at any time to have fallen very far short of the state of most districts in Ireland. Her party were never Subject to any violence,—except, indeed, by an exorbitant landlady who had them before the Maire. To be sure they heard firing,—it was a rencontre of Chouans and gensd'armes ; they also witnessed the drilling of militia, and saw everywhere 'the arrival of regular troops, who, if they did nothing else, served to enliven the scene, and to add another object to the landscapes ,of the authoress.
The tone of this journal is very pleasing : the temper of the writer is very happy, though far from being always gay. She is clever, and discusses a little question in sentiment or morals with much grace and ability. The objects of her description are well adapted to the character of her mind. The valley of the Loire is by far the most beautiful portion of France: not a turn of the river that does not present some pastoral scene, some picturesque effect, some classical ruin. Its course is peaceful ; its banks are dotted with villages, and castles, and villas; its hill-sides are fer- tile, and well cultivated ; corn, wine, and fruit of all descriptions abound in all its happy nooks and inlets. The authoress is an habitual dweller upon the beauties of nature, and not less on the characteristics of social life. Her object has been evidently to see the people. She has none of the foolish pride of her countrywo- men—it may be bashfulness, or perhaps ignorance : she joins in .conversation with all, gentle and simple : she will discourse with the cook—she will sit in the ingle-corner, watch the preparation of her dinner, and in the mean time learn all that is to be learned from the aubergiste of herself, her history, her neighbours, her village. This is the true way to see a country : it is astonishing how much may be seen and done in six weeks by a well-directed wandering—not a, posting—not a steaming—nor yet a coaching tour, but just a laissez alter loitering through a leorthy district. It would be unjust to dismiss this pleasant book without a: single specimen. The folloWing account of an accidental visit to a French family is highly characteristic of a most amiable class of Freed society, and presents a favourable contrast to the finery and sus. picion of a similar rank in England—the martyrs of luxury and fashion.
The Chateau de Clermont was built by the order of ghe great Conde, who,* the war of the Fronde, fancying in a moment of disgust that he wished to s. tire from the world, directed one of his intendants to select some spot in a de. sirable military position, on the borders of Bretagne and Nitta', where he roles( spend the remainder of his days. The chateau was accordingly erected on thi site, which combines every thing that could be desired : Conde, however, never inhabited it, probably finding. out, before. it was finished, that he was not es weary of the world as he had Imagined. It stands on the brow of a lofty emi. nenee, commanding from its proud height the full sweep of the Loire, with is winding shores and many islands and the whole of the surrounding country, from Ancennis to Nantes. Delightful winding walks, shaded with the birds, the fir, and the mountain ash, and diversified sometimes with fragments of rock, sometimes with flowering shrubs, tempted us to the sornmit. It was impos. sible not to proceed, when every step showed us new attractions : we heard tie sound of music from the open windows of the chateau—it seemed as if the swain awoke some kindly sympathies that told us that refinement, benevolence, sad courtesy dwelt within ; nevertheless, as sympathies and suppositions do not justify intrusions and impertinences, we were turning away at the sight oft lady coming across the lawn, in the front of the chateau, with a little basket d flowers in her hand. It was Madame la Baronne des herself; and ad. vvnaing with an expression that heralded to us a welcome, she begged we would walk round the gardens, if agreeable to us ; adding, that as we might find ourselves fatigued by the ascent, she hoped we would come into the saloon after. wards, and take a cup of coffee, or a little fruit. It was singular enough that I, who have a dislike, absolutely amounting to folly, of presenting myself among strangers, or taxing in any way their time or kindness, in this instance feft immediately desirous of availing myself of the politeness offered. We accord- ingly walked round the gardens and the grounds, and then presenting' ourselves in the saloon, found coffee prepared for us. We were introduced to M.- re Baron des J—s, to a son and daughter, and two or three visitors: we in return in- troduced ourselves, which, as Sterne justly observes, is always "pour in moment quelque chose d'embarrassante," but never could it be less so than in the present instance, with a family full of ease, vivacity, and good breeding. The conver- sation immediately became general, and two hours flew away unperceived. At length I recollected poor Jean, who would, I thought, begin to inatigine that'we had either tumbled over the rocks, or fallen into the hands of the Chouaust- rose ; but on offering to pay my parting compliments, I was overpowered by voices, all joining III the friendly entreaty that we would stay and dine, and_pro. ceed to Nantes in the cool of the evening. I read in the countenances of my companions a wish for my compliance; and too happy in the conversation of party at once so polished and so unaffected, I willingly yielded to the entreaty,, which afforded me a little more time to profit by it. Accordingly it was settled that the gentlemen should stroll through the woods whilst I remained with Ma- dame des J—s and her lovely daughter. The bill of fare for dinner was discussed in my presence, and settled, sans Poe, with that delightful frankness and gaiety which in the French character gives& charm to the most trifling occurrence. Mademoiselle Louise then begged mete excuse her for half an hour, as she was going to make some creams and some pas- tilles. I requested I might accompany her, and also render myself useful : we ae., cordingly went together into the dairy, and I made tarts a l'Angloise, when slit made confections and bon-boas and all manner of pretty things, with as much ease as if she bad never done any thing else, and as much grace as she displayed, in the saloon. I could not help thinking as I looked at her, with her servant about her, all cheerful, respectful, and anxious to attend upon her, how mud better it would be for the young ladies in England, if they would occasio return to the habits of their grandinamtnas, and mingle the animated and en clearing occupations of domestic life, and the modest manners and social amuse- ments of home, with the perpetual practising on harps and pianos, and the in- cessant efforts at display and search after gaiety, which in the present day render them any thing but what an amiable man of a reflecting mind and delicate sea. tirnents would desire in the woman he might wish to select as his companion far life.
But it was not only in the more trifling affairs of the manage that this young
lady acquitted herself so agreeably; in the household, the garden, the farce, among the labourers, thew wives, and children, with the poor in their neigh. bourhood, and the casual wanderer' everywhere she was superintending, direct- ing, kind, amiable, the comfort of all around, and the delight of her family. Her cheerfulness was in proportion to " — that sweet peace, which goodness bosoms ever:" she flew up and down the rocks with the lightness of a mountain roe, she sprang into a boat like the lady of the lake, and could manage an oar with as much grace and skill : with all this, her mind was thoroughly cultivated. Shellac' an elegant taste in the authers of her own language, understood Latin, Italian, and English, and charmed me with her conversation, whilst she employed her fingers in the fancy work with which the French ladies occupy the moments some call idle but which with them are always sociably and generally carefully employed. After a day spent in all the agreeableness of country life, under ie most engaging aspects, evening came, and with mutual adieus we parted ;but scarcely had we proceeded halt a league upon our way, when we saw a little
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boat in full speed after Us, and as t had the advantage of a sail it soon gained upon ours, enough to allow us to perceive that it was the Baroness and her son and daughter. We rested our oars until they came up to us; they then told us that after parting with us they had considered it Would be so late before we could reach Nantes, that they resolved to bring us back again. It was impossible to resist so friendly an invitation ; we accordingly put about and all returned to- gether, our oars keeping time to the songs of our party, and flutes and guitars making up the remainder of our evening concert. In this hospitable manner we were kept four days voluntary prisoners, for it was indeed the talent of tins amiable family, . With winning words to conquer willing hearts."
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