On The Third Morning From Our Departure From Paris, When Nearly
Exhausted, The Rising Sun Gave Us A View Of
The environs of Lyons.
We had been afraid to stop at Chalons the day before, having been
informed that the
Saone was not sufficiently full to ensure the
certainty of the steam-boat's arrival at the promised time at Lyons.
This was a great disappointment, but we were rewarded by the rich and
beautiful scenery which characterises the route by land. We could not
help fancying that we could distinguish the home of Claude Melnotte
amid those villages that dotted the splendid panorama; and the
pleasure, with which I, at least, contemplated the fine old city, was
not a little enhanced by its association with the Lady of Lyons and
her peasant lover.
Lyons more than realised all the notions which I had formed concerning
it, having an air of antique grandeur which I had vainly expected
to find at Rouen. It is well-built throughout, without that striking
contrast between the newer buildings and the more ancient edifices,
which is so remarkable in the capital of Normandy. The Hotel de Ville,
in the large square, is a particularly fine building, and the whole
city looks as if it had been for centuries the seat of wealth and
commerce.
Friends in England, and the few we met with or made in Paris, had
furnished us with the names of the hotels it would be most advisable
to put up at; but these lists were, as a matter of course, lost, and
we usually made for the nearest to the place where we stopped. The
Hotel de Paris, which looks upon the Hotel de Ville, was the one we
selected at Lyons; it was large and commodious, but had a dull and
melancholy air. As it is usual in French hotels, the building enclosed
a court-yard in the centre, with galleries running round the three
sides, and reaching to the upper stories. The furniture, handsome of
its kind, was somewhat faded, adding to the gloom which is so often
the characteristic of a provincial inn.
As soon as possible, we sallied forth, according to our usual wont, to
see as much as we could of the town and its environs; both invited a
longer stay, but we were anxious to be at Marseilles by the 19th, and
therefore agreed to rise at half-past three on the following morning,
in order to be ready for the steamer, which started an hour after. We
had begun, indeed, to fancy sleep a superfluous indulgence; my female
friend (Miss E.), as well as myself, suffering no other inconvenience
from three nights spent in a diligence than that occasioned by swelled
feet and ancles.
We found a very considerable number of persons in the steam-boat, many
of whom were English, and amongst them a gentleman and his wife, who,
with four children, were travelling to Nice, where they proposed to
spend the winter. The fine weather of the preceding day had deserted
us, and it rained in torrents during the first hours of the descent
of the Rhone. The wet and cold became so difficult to bear, that I
was glad to take up a position under the funnel of the steamer,
where, protected a little from the rain, I speedily got dry and warm,
enjoying the scenery in despite of the very unfavourable state of the
weather. We missed our communicative boatman of the Seine, but
met with a very intelligent German, who gave us an account of the
remarkable places en route, pointing out a spot once exceedingly
dangerous to boats ascending or descending, in consequence of a
projecting rock, which, by the orders of the Emperor Napoleon, had
been blown up.
All the steamers which leave Lyons profess to go as far as Arles; but,
in order to ensure conveyance to that place the same evening, it is
necessary to ascertain whether they carry freight to Beaucaire, for in
that case they always stay the night to unlade, taking the boat on
at an early hour the following morning. We found ourselves in this
predicament; and perhaps, under all the circumstances to be related,
it would be advisable to leave the Lyons boat at Avignon and proceed
by land to Marseilles. Many of the passengers pursued this plan.
The weather cleared up in the middle of the day, and we passed Avignon
in a rich crimson sunset, which threw its roseate flush upon the ruins
of the Papal palace, and the walls and bastions of this far-famed
city. Experience had shown us the impossibility of taking more than a
cursory view of any place in which we could only sojourn for a single
day, and therefore we satisfied ourselves with the glimpses which we
caught of Avignon from the river. A half-finished bridge, apparently
of ancient date, projects rudely into the middle of the stream; we
passed through another more modern, though somewhat difficult to
shoot; our voyage the whole day having been made under a succession of
bridges, many upon the suspension principle, and extremely light and
elegant. The beauty and variety of the scenery which presented itself,
as we shot along the banks of the Rhone, were quite sufficient to
engage our attention, and to make the hours fly swiftly along; there
were few, however, of our fellow-travellers who did not resort to
other methods of amusement.
After the weather had cleared, the decks dried, and the sun-beams,
warming, without scorching, glanced through fleecy clouds, the greater
number of the passengers remained in the cabin below, whence, the
windows being small and high, there was literally nothing to be seen.
They employed themselves in reading, writing, or working; the French
ladies in particular being most industrious in plying the needle. We
noticed one family especially, who scarcely shewed themselves
upon deck. It consisted of the mother, an elderly lady, of a very
prepossessing appearance, with her son and daughter; the former about
thirty years old, the latter considerably younger.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 13 of 79
Words from 12309 to 13323
of 80716
