Chapter 8

LYONS.

After a month's residence at _Avignon_, where I waited till the weather and roads amongst the high _Dauphine_ mountains were both improved, I sat out for this city. I had, you know, outward bound, dropt down to _Port St. Esprit_ by water, so it was a new scene to us by land, and I assure you it was a fine one; the vast and extensive rich vales, adorned on all sides with such romantic mountains, could not be otherwise, in such a climate. Our first stage was only four leagues to _Orange_; this is the last town in the Pope's territories; and within a quarter of a mile of it stands, in a corn field, a beautiful Roman triumphal arch, so great in _ruins_, that it would be an ornament even in Rome. The _Palais Royal_ at this town, has nothing to recommend it, but that it affords a prospect of this rich morsel of antiquity.

From _Orange_ we passed through _Pierlaite, Donzeir_, and several smaller towns, and we lay one night at a single house, but an excellent auberge, called _Souce_, kept by an understanding sensible host.

At a little village called _A'tang_, on the banks of the Rhone, we stopped a day or two, to enjoy the sweet situation. Just opposite to it, on the other side of the river, stands a large town, (_Tournau_,) which added to the beauty of our village, over which hangs a very high mountain, from whence the best Hermitage wine is collected: I suppose it is called _Hermitage_, from a Hermit's cell on the top of it; but so unlike the _Montserrat_ Hermitages, that I contented myself with only tasting the Hermit's wine; it was so good indeed, that though I did not see how it was possible to get it safe to the north side of France, I could not withstand the temptation of buying a cask, for which I was to pay twelve guineas, and did pay one as earnest, to a very sensible, and I believe honest and opulent wine merchant, who, however, made me a present of two bottles when I came away, almost worth my guinea; it is three livres a bottle on the spot; and he shewed me orders he had received from men of fashion in England, for wine; among which was one from Mr. _Ryder_, Sir _Dudley Ryder_'s son I fancy, who, I found, was well satisfied with his former dealings. Do you know that Claret is greatly improved by a mixture of Hermitage, and that the best Claret we have in England is generally so _adulterated_?

The next towns we passed were _Pevige_ and _Vienne_, the latter only five leagues from this city. It is a very ancient town, and was formerly a Roman colony. The cathedral is a large and noble Gothic structure, and in it is a fine tomb of Cardinal _Mountmoin_, said to be equal in workmanship to _Richlieu_'s in the _Sorbonne_, but said to be so, by people no ways qualified to judge properly; it is indeed an expensive but a miserable performance, when put in competition with the works of _Girrardeau_. About half a mile without the town is a noble pyramidal Roman monument, said to have stood in the center of the Market-place, in the time of the Romans. There is also to be seen in this town, a Mosaic pavement discovered only a few years since, wonderfully beautiful indeed, and near ten feet square, though not quite perfect, being broken in the night by some malicious people, out of mere wantonness, soon after it was discovered.

At this town I was recommended to the _Table Round_; but as there are two, the _grande_ and the _petit_, I must recommend you to the _petit_ where I was obliged to move; for, of all the dreadful women I ever came near, Madam _Rousillion_ has the _least mellifluous_ notes; her ill behaviour, however, procured me the honour of a very agreeable acquaintance, the _Marquis DeValan_, who made me ashamed, by shewing us an attention we had no right to expect; but this is one, among many other agreeable circumstances, which attend strangers travelling in France. French gentlemen never see strangers ill treated, without standing forth in their defence; and I hope English gentlemen will follow their example, because it is a piece of justice due to strangers, in whatever country they are, or whatever country they are from; it is doing as one would be done by. That prejudice which prevails in England, even among some people of fashion, against the French nation is illiberal, in the highest degree; nay, it is more, it is a national disgrace.--When I recollect with what ease and uninterruption I have passed through so many great and little towns, and extensive provinces, without a symptom of wanton rudeness being offered me, I blush to think how a Frenchman, if he made no better figure than I did, would have been treated in a tour through Britain.--My Monkey, with a pair of French jack boots, and his hair _en queue_, rode postillion upon my sturdy horse some hours every day; such a sight, you may be sure, brought forth old and young, sick and lame, to look at him and his master. _Jocko_ put whole towns in motion, but never brought any affront on his master; they came to look and to laugh, but not to deride or insult. The post-boys, it is true, did not like to see their fraternity _taken off_, in my _little Theatre_; but they seldom discovered it, but by a grave salutation; and sometimes a good humoured fellow called him comrade, and made _Jocko_ a bow; they could not laugh at his bad seat, for not one of them rode with more ease; or had a handsomer laced jacket. Mr. _Buffon_ says, the Monkey or _Maggot_, (and mine is the latter, for he has no tail) make their grimace or chattering equally to shew their anger or to make known their appetite. With all due deference to this great naturalist, I must beg leave to say, that his observation is not quite just; there is as much difference between the grimace of my _Jocko_, when he is angry or hungry, and when he grins to shew delight, as there is in a man, when he gnashes his teeth in wrath, or laughs from mirth.

Between _Avignon_ and this town I met a dancing bear, mounted by a _Maggot_: as it was upon the high road, I desired leave to present _Jocko_ to his grandfather, for so he appeared both in age and size; the interview, though they were both males, was very affecting; never did a father receive a long-lost child with more seeming affection than the _old gentleman_ did my _Jocko_; he embraced him with every degree of tenderness imaginable, while the _young gentleman_ (like other young gentlemen of the present age) betrayed a perfect indifference. In my conscience I believe it, there was some consanguinity between them, or the reception would have proved more mutual. Between you and me, I fear, were I to return to England, I might find myself a sad party in such an interview. It is a sad reflection; but perhaps Providence may wisely ordain such things, in order as men grow older, to wean them from the objects of their worldly affections, that they may resign more readily to the decree of fate. That good man, Dr. ARBUTHNOT, did not seem to dread the approach of death on his own account, so much as from the grievous affliction HE had reason to fear it would bring upon his children and family.