Chapter 19

The next town of any note is _Sens_, a large, _ragged_, ancient city; but adorned with a most noble Gothic cathedral, more magnificent than even that of _Rheims_, and well worthy of the notice of strangers; it is said to have been built by the English: With the relicks and _custodiums_ of the host, are shewn the sacerdotal habits, in which Archbishop _Becket_ (who resided there many years) said mass, for it was his head-quarters, when he _left_ Britain, as well as _Julius Cæsar_'s before he went there. The silver hasps, and some of the ornaments of these garments, are still perfect, though it has undergone so many darnings, as to be little else.

_Becket_ was a very tall man; for though it has many tucks in it, yet it is generally too long for the tallest priest in the town, who constantly says mass in it on _St. Thomas_'s day.

How times and men are changed! This town, which resisted the arms of _Cæsar_ for a considerable time, was put in the utmost consternation by _Dr. Smollett_'s causing his travelling blunderbuss to be only fired in the air, a circumstance "which greatly terrified all the _petit monde!_" It is very singular, that the Doctor should have frightened a French nobleman of _Burgundy_, by shaking his cane at him, and even made him assist in the most servile offices; and in the next town, terrify all the common people, by only firing a blunderbuss in the air!

I would not willingly arraign a dead man with telling two fibbs so close upon the back of each other; but I am sure there was but that single French nobleman, in this mighty kingdom, who would have submitted to such insults as the Doctor _says_ he treated him with; nor any other town but _Sens_, where the firing of a gun would have so terrified the inhabitants; for, drums, guns, and noise of every sort, seem to afford the common French people infinite pleasure.

I spent in this town a day or two, and part of that time with a very agreeable Scotch family, of the name of _Macdonald_, where Lieutenant Colonel _Stuart_ was then upon a visit.

I have some reason to think that _Sens_ is a very cheap town. Several English, Scotch, and Irish families reside in it.

From _Sens_ to _Port sur Yonne_ is three leagues, and from _Yonne_ to _Foussart_ the same distance.

At the three Kings at _Foussart_, suspecting there was a cat behind the bed in wait for my bird, I found, instead thereof, a little _narrow door_, which was artfully hid, and which opened into another room; and as I am sure the man is a cheat, I suspect too, that upon a _good occasion_, he would have made some _use_ of his little door.

_Foussart_ is a small place, consisting only of three or four public houses. From thence to _Morret_, is three leagues, on which road is erected a noble pillar of oriental marble, in memory of the marriage of _Lewis_ the XVth. Soon after we passed this monument, we entered into the delightful forest of _Fontainbleau_; and passing three leagues to the center of it, we arrived at that ancient royal palace: it stands very low, and is surrounded by a great many fine pieces of water, which, however, render the apartments very damp. The King and royal family had been there six weeks, and were gone but ten days, and with them, all the furniture of the palace was also gone, except glasses, and a few pictures, of no great value. In a long, gallery are placed, on each side of the wall, a great number of stags' heads, carved in wood, and upon them are fixed the horns of stags and bucks, killed by the late, and former Kings; some of which are very _outre_, others singularly large and beautiful.

_Fontainbleau_ is a good town, stands adjacent to the palace; and as the gardens, park, &c. are always open, it is a delightful summer residence. We staid a few days there, to enjoy the shady walks, and to see the humours of a great annual fair, which commenced the day after we arrived. All sorts of things are sold at this fair; but the principal business is done in the _wine way_, many thousand pieces of the inferior Burgundy wine being brought to this market.

We made two little days' journey from _Fontainbleau_ to _Paris_, a town I entered with concern, and shall leave with pleasure.--As I had formerly been of some service to _Faucaut_ who keeps the _Hotel d'York_, when he lived in _Rue de Mauvais Garçon_ I went to this _famous Hotel_, which would have been more in character, if he had given it the name of his former street, and called it, _L'Hotel de Mauvais Garçon_ for it is an hospital of bugs and vermin: the fellow has got the second-hand beds of _Madame Pompadour_, upon his first floor, which he _modestly_ asks thirty _louis d'ors_ a month for! All the rest of the apartments are pigeon-holes, filled with fleas, bugs, and dirt; and should a fire happen, there is no way of escaping. Nothing should be more particularly attended to in _Paris_ than the security from fire, where so many, and such a variety of strangers, and their servants, are shut up at night, within one _Porte Cochere_.