IflO Recollections qj Scenes and Cities. [[August, 



former times were the baronial castles of the German nobles ; nor in any 

 spot that I have yet visited, have I found more primitive manners than 

 in the Fosges; and this will create little surprise when I add, that I could 

 not leai'n that any foreigner had visited these mountains for many years. 

 One evening in the Vosges deserves a more minute record. 



It was on the second day after leaving Strasburg, and when I had 

 penetrated into the heart of the mountains, that on a delicious August 

 evening, I looked down upon the village oi' Rannes, one straggling street, 

 suspended over the brawling stream that watered the little valley, and 

 overtopped by the ruins of two, once no doubt, rival castles. I inquired 

 for an auberge ; but there are no inns in the Vosges, for there are no 

 travellers ; and uncertain how the night was to be spent, my pace had 

 gradually waxed slower, till it came to a dead halt ; when an old respect- 

 able looking man, coming from the vine-covered porch of a house oppo- 

 site, asked me if I were a stranger; and learning my difficulty, he offered 

 nie the hospitalities of his house. It was a patriarchal establishment, 

 and there might be seen all the domestic virtues, — reverence for age, in- 

 dulgence for youth, motherly love, sisterly and brotherly affection. I 

 was received, as strangers were received of old, before the inhabitants of 

 cities had carried their refinements — perhaps their corruptions — into the 

 lands of simplicity and hospitality. How equally flowed the stream of 

 life in this seclusion ! — what a picture of peace and serenity ! and yet to 

 one whose scenes of life are varied every day, and who is accustomed to 

 men and cities, it is rather a painful, at all events a regretful, sensation 

 that is awakened by the contemplation of life without variety, and as it 

 would seem, almost without enjoyment. The old man, whose head was 

 frosted over with eighty winters, and his spouse, seemingly as aged, sat 

 during the evening at the door, upon two seats formed of plaited vine- 

 twigs, watching silently the labour of their progeny. Their son, a 

 healthy man of, perhaps, forty years, was digging little troughs at^e 

 roots of his vines; while two boys, of about ten and twelve years old, 

 were carrying pitchers of water from a neighbouring well; the old man's 

 daughter-in-law was within the house, preparing supper, and pleasing a 

 little pet of three or four years old, that sat upon a stool eating a pear ; 

 but the gem, the chief figure in the group, was the grand-daughter, who 

 stood upon the threshold with her arms crossed, having just returned 

 from the neighbouring cottage of a married sister. She was somewhat 

 above the middle height ; slender, but with that beautiful roundness of 

 form which is so captivating in woman, but so rare among her country- 

 women : her eyes M'ere dark and expressive, but mild ; and two rows of 

 pearly teeth were seen betwixt two parted lips of roses. Her straw- 

 bonnet was slung over her arm ; and abundance of beautiful tresses, 

 gently agitated by the air, shewed a forehead and neck of ivory : her age 

 might be eighteen ; but whatever it was, she seemed to preserve the re- 

 cent impress of the hand of divinity. She was the first and only French 

 girl I ever saw of whom one might say, " she is interesting." 5lany are 

 piquant es, many gentils, some evenjolies comme des Anges — but interest- 

 ing ! how seldom. 



I have somehow got into France, without intending it. I have many 

 recollections of France ; but few of them either vivid or pleasing ; but 

 as I have no intention of returning to France after having crossed the 

 Pyrenees, I may as well sketch one scene which, although hackneyed 

 both in its locality and its subject, I would not willingly let slip from my 

 memory. 



