The
French Inhabitants Drink No Good Wine; Nor Is There Any To Be
Had, Unless You Have Recourse To The British Wine-Merchants Here
Established, Who Deal In Bourdeaux Wines, Brought Hither By Sea
For The London Market.
I have very good claret from a friend, at
the rate of fifteen-pence sterling a bottle; and excellent small
beer as reasonable as in England.
I don't believe there is a drop
of generous Burgundy in the place; and the aubergistes impose
upon us shamefully, when they charge it at two livres a bottle.
There is a small white wine, called preniac, which is very
agreeable and very cheap. All the brandy which I have seen in
Boulogne is new, fiery, and still-burnt. This is the trash which
the smugglers import into England: they have it for about ten-pence
a gallon. Butcher's meat is sold for five sols, or two-pence
halfpenny a pound, and the pound here consists of eighteen
ounces. I have a young turkey for thirty sols; a hare for four-and-twenty;
a couple of chickens for twenty sols, and a couple of
good soles for the same price. Before we left England, we were
told that there was no fruit in Boulogne; but we have found
ourselves agreeably disappointed in this particular. The place is
well supplied with strawberries, cherries, gooseberries,
corinths, peaches, apricots, and excellent pears. I have eaten
more fruit this season, than I have done for several years. There
are many well-cultivated gardens in the skirts of the town;
particularly one belonging to our friend Mrs. B - , where we often
drink tea in a charming summer-house built on a rising ground,
which commands a delightful prospect of the sea. We have many
obligations to this good lady, who is a kind neighbour, an
obliging friend, and a most agreeable companion: she speaks
English prettily, and is greatly attached to the people and the
customs of our nation. They use wood for their common fewel,
though, if I were to live at Boulogne, I would mix it with coal,
which this country affords. Both the wood and the coal are
reasonable enough. I am certain that a man may keep house in
Boulogne for about one half of what it will cost him in London;
and this is said to be one of the dearest places in France.
The adjacent country is very agreeable, diversified with hill and
dale, corn-fields, woods, and meadows. There is a forest of a
considerable extent, that begins about a short league from the
Upper Town: it belongs to the king, and the wood is farmed to
different individuals.
In point of agriculture, the people in this neighbourhood seem to
have profited by the example of the English. Since I was last in
France, fifteen years ago, a good number of inclosures and
plantations have been made in the English fashion. There is a
good many tolerable country-houses, within a few miles of
Boulogne; but mostly empty.
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