The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1872-08-17 00:00:00

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A LITTLE TRIP IN FRANCE.
(By our London Correspondent.)
In default of gossiping on the public affairs of my
own, my native land, a couple of letters dincriptive of a
holiday trip among our erewhile lively neighbours may
possibly be of some little interest to your readers. I
crossed over to Calais with no other plans than to pass
One night in that not very delightful town, and to
"render myself" at Creil the next day, having pros
mimed to pay a visit to a French friend there. But
would that I could have crossed this narrow but
stomech.cliaturbing passage as easily and as comfort-
ably eel have mentioned the unimportant fact. It is
horribly vexatious and annoying that in days when
enterprising agents make arrangements for taking
large Parties round the world, when enginecra tunnel
through Mont Cenia, make Africa an island by
=tan a emmi, and Perform all eorts of triumphs over
Dame Nature, this trr-mpery little passage be-
tween Dover and Ce.lale should be the source of so
much discomforts After all the writing and dis-
cussion on ti.,e subject, all the propositions en both
aides of the Channel, no improvement has been
effected, and the same little Calais boats as those
•-ali have so long been grumbling about still play
at pitch and toss in the old style; Calais harbour is
as shallow and incommodiona as ever; and altogether
this little cross-cut of sea-water is as troublous as ever.
John Bull says this is not his fault, and I believe he
Is right. The fault lies on "the other side." It is
strange that France will not improve her Channel
harbours. Only a little while ago she raised one
hundred and twenty millions of pounds sterling to
help tower& the payment of her war indemnity, and
It is said that more than ten time, the amount she
wanted was offered to her. Pity that while so much
money can be so easily raised to pay the expenses of
a quarrel between two nations, a comparatively petty
amount cannot be raised to bind two great nations to.
gether.
I like leaving Calais, always provided it is not for
Dover, and enjoyed the railway trip to Creil, though it
has no special charms, As Creil is only some 42 miles
on this side Paris, why not go there' said Ito my-
self. But I replied to myself that I had been there
many times already, and somehow I did not wish to
have pleasant memories marred.. Paris, I am assured,
Ii not yet herself again; the fair city is still saddened
and deadened by the war. Will she ever again, I
wonder, look charming and resplendent as she didin '67,
the memorable year of the Universal Exposition, when
her hotels were crowded with visitors from all parts of
the earth; when her streets were thronged with pro-
vincial holiday-makers In unfashionable but picturesque
dress; when her theatres and entertainments were in full
swing, money was poured out like water, and Perils
herself was as comble de joi I I will wait and hope.
Meanwhile I found my friend, whom I had known in
London with scarcely a son to bless himself with—if
one can bless himself thus —and whom I was fortunate
enough to be able to befriend, a prosperous epU'er in
Creil. To call a man an epicier is certainly not e corn-
pliment in France, but to be this is decidedly an im-
provement on—but! need not finish the sentence.
Creil does not look very inviting from the Chemin
de Far du Nord, but a ramble about the town shows
you that it is pleasantly situated, partly surrounded
by hills and with the river Oise marking through it.
It is not a particularly handsome town, though a
fine old bridge, the remains of an old castle, and
the ruins of the Abbey of St. Evremond, give it some
picturesque features and historical associations. It
was in the castle, the ruins of which are pointed out,
that CHARLES the SIXTH (Bien-Aime) of France Was
confined when insane. His was a stormy career. In
1382 he marched against the Flemings in revolt under
Fume VAN ARTEVELDE; then he had to fight against
the warlike inhabitants of Ghent, being aided, strange
to say, by an English ptelate, SCENsEit, the " fighting
bishop" of Norwich, a representative of the Church
militant. It was in the reign of the Well-Beloved
Sovereign that occurred the civil wars of the Bur-
glindiane and Armagnac., the invasion of France by
Her the FIFTH of England, the capture of Hartleur
and Rouen, and the English victory at Agincaurt ; so
that the inhabitants of Creil have ample material for
thought in the history of the ruined ehateau where the
deranged King was confined. From a business point of
view the town is rather deadly lively, but there is a
good stroke of trade done in pottery and pipes.
A pleasant little trip was that I made to
Senile, about ten miles from Creil, passing through
the Foret de iiallate. South; is in a prettily
wooded district at the confluence of the rivers
Annette and Nonette, and the scenery is in some parts
very beautiful. The town has numerous Boman re-
mains, notably some old walls and gateways which
give an air of antiquity to the town, strangely con-
trasting with the bright and lively character of some of
the shops and cards—the proprietors of which try to
come out strong, and with the activity of the cotton
mills is, the subonba. The Senlisians had to do some
hard fighting when the to am WWI besieged eeve;at Cenes
during the wars of the Logue. The cathedral dates
from the time of CHARLEMAGNE in the eighth century;
bu this is but a memory, the actual building having
been erected by I.unis the TWELFTH in the fifteenth
century, while additions were made to it by FILtNCIS
the FIRST ; the Kings of course taking all the credit,
and their subjects finding all the money and work.
Senlis i a nice town for a stroll, either to moralise
over churches partly in ruins, with a history of five or
six centuries, or to wander at your own sweet will
among charmingly wooded and watered landscapes.
Leaving Creil by railway you pass through some
pretty scenery; but don't stop at Verberie, as I did.
The place is identified with the history of CHARLES
MARTEL, the uncrowned King, who, a thousand years
made a great uproar in the world ; with that of his
Son PEPIN, and of his son CHARLEMAGNE, the" history"
of all of whom is deliciously mixed up with fable;
but however they may have " flourished " (their
swords), the little town never seems to have flourished
since. It is, however, a pleasant place—to start from
say for Compiegne.
I bad much wished to see Compiegne, but, as often
happens, preconceived notions were dissipated at
first sight of the place, though I afterwards found
that sometimes first impressions go a long way (too far.)
The town itself is lot handsome, and is marred by its
narrow streets, som s of which are fearfully and wonder-
fully made! I admit it was very stupid of me, but
I commenced a ramble about the place with a vivid
memory of a pictire in the Illustrated News repre-
senting the Emperor and his Court hunting in the
Forced of Compiegne. Some pictures like these will
cling to one's memory, and every now and then clash
with f wt. But wander about the outskirte of the
town, in its lovely park, and take a drive into the
f wed, and you will easily understand how French
Emperors and Kings for centuries chose Compiegne
for their" happy hunting grounds." I should like
some of these lays--say the longest day—to drive not
only into but through the forest. My coshes told me
It is quatre lituen de post 8 tracers, for which piece of
Information I was extremely grateful, as it left me as
Wise as before; but my gratitude knew no bounds
when on asking how much this poet league is, he told
me that a litue de poste is deux mile toises, where-
upon I "sank in a depth where all my thoughts were
drowned," only to relieve my mind by freely patronising
the scenery, knowing that said cocher could not after-
wards charge me according to my raptures, as I had
made an amicable convention, offensive and defensive,
with him beforehand.
Whatever political views may be held elsewhere in
France, the tons bourgeois of Compiegne possess, as
far as I could discover. Napoleonic proclivities. They
naturally connect the chateau, which has historic
associations with many of the most famous Sovereigns
of France, especially with the hunting parties, the
reviews, the fAen, and the banquet, of the last of the
Napoleon,; and visitors, like the residents, cannot but
contrast the present dullness and quietude of the place
with the splendour that formerly characterised it
during • portion of the year, and which was not with-
out its influence at other periods. But the beauties of
Nature survive the fall of dvinuttiee and the crash of
empires, and the Forest of Compiegne is as lovely a
district as ever, and in either of the villages which
are embosomed in it any one, long in populous city
pent, might well spend a few weeks of lounging and
deliciously buy freedom.
The town of Compiegne, like so many of those in
this part of France, bears traced of its Roman occu-
pation, and its name is really a Gallicism for Com-
pendium, as the 'Romans called it. There are several
interesting old churches. The English theory is that
"all the churches in France are open all day "—but
not if there is anything particularly worth seeing!
You eh& to visit the abbey church of St. Corneille,
for example, to see some tombs of Kings (just to see
perhaps whether certain Kings are buried here as well
as at St. Dents!) and of course you have to fee •
guide; but don't grumble at that; for your half franc
or franc you will have a capital push of historical
jargon, which, supposing you can understand it at the
time, you will forget as soon an you get outside, so
that really you have no bother about it; you can be
rare of being told the 1111 Me lies as other travellers are
told; and you can be sentimental over the memorials
of bygone centuries in the correct style; whereas if
you were alone your sentiment might be poured out
over the wrong tomb! And in Compiegne there is
plenty of room for sentiment about JOAN of Ago, for
It was here that the Maid of Orleans was taken
prisoner in 1430. After • glorious career she desired
to retire into private life, but mho was induced to give
her aid to the town, beieged by the DriCE of BUR-
sioNDE and the EARLS of ARUNDEL and SUFFOLK. She
It said to have performed prodigies of velour, and
to have been taken prisoner In a sally from the
bodged town, to end her troubled and devoted life by

L

being burnt to death on the 30th of May, 143 L We
most of us know. or think we know, the leading events
in the career of La Pucelle ; but how ruthlessly do
modein investigators deal with the "facto of history I"