A Book of Voyages

by Patrick O'Brian

  XXI

  There is not on earth, perhaps, so curious and inquisitive a people as the lower class of French: noise seems to be one of their greatest delights. If a ragged boy does but beat a drum, or sound a trumpet, he brings all who hear him about it, with the utmost speed, and most impatient curiosity.—As my monkey rode postillion, in a red jacket laced with silver, I was obliged to make him dismount when I passed through a town of any size: the people gathered so rapidly round me at Moret, three leagues from Fontainebleau, while I stopped only to buy a loaf, that I verily believe every man, woman, and child, except the sick and aged, were paying their respects to my little groom; all infinitely delighted; for none offered the least degree of rudeness. I fear a Frenchman could not have passed in the same manner, so agreeably, through a country town in England.

  XXII

  The French never give coffee, tea, or any refreshment, except upon particular occasions, to their morning or evening visitors.

  XXIII

  When the weather is cold, the fire small, and a large company, some young Frenchman shuts the whole circle from receiving any benefit from it, by placing himself just before it, laying his sword genteelly over his left knee, and flattering himself, while all the company wish him at the devil, that the ladies are admiring his legs. When he has gratified his vanity, or is thoroughly warm, he sits down, or goes, and another takes his place. I have seen this abominable ill-breeding kept up by a set of accomplished young fops for two hours together, in exceeding cold weather. This custom has been transplanted lately into England.

  XXIV

  Jealousy is scarce known in France. By the time the first child is born, an indifference generally takes place: the husband and wife have their separate acquaintance, and pursue their separate amusements, undisturbed by domestic squabbles. When they meet in the evening, it is with perfect good humour, and, in general, perfect good breeding.—When an English wife plays truant, she soon becomes abandoned: it is not so with the French; they preserve appearances and proper decorum, because they are seldom attached to any particular man. While they are at their toilet, they receive the visits of their male acquaintance, and he must be a man of uncommon discernment, who finds out who it is she prefers at that time.—In the southern parts of France, the women are in general very free and easy indeed.

  XXV

  It is seldom that virgins are seduced in France; the married women are the objects of the men of gallantry. The seduction of a young girl is punished with death …

  XXVI

  Never ask a Frenchman his age; no question whatever can be more offensive to him, nor will he ever give you a direct, though he may a civil answer.—Lewis XV was always asking every man about him his age. A king may take that liberty, and even then it always gives pain.—Louis XIV said to the Comte de Grammont, “Je sais votre âge, l’Evêque de Senlis qui a 84 ans, m’a donné pour époque, que vous avez étudié ensemble dans la même classe.” “Cet Evêque, Sire, (replied the Comte), n’accuse pas juste, car ni lui, ni moi n’avons jamais Etudié.”—Before I knew how offensive this question was to a Frenchman, I have had many equivocal answers—such as, O! Mon dieu, as old as the town, or, I thank God, I am in good health, &c.

  XXVII

  A modern French author says, that the French language is not capable of the jeux de mots. “Lesjeux de mots are not,” says he, “in the genius de notre langue qui est grave, et sérieuse.” Perhaps it may be so; but the language and the men are then so different, that I thought quite otherwise—though the following beautiful specimen of the seriousness of the language ought, in some measure, to justify his remark: Un seul est frappé, & tous sont delivrés, dieu frappe sons fils innocent, pour l’amour des hommes coupables, & pardonne aux hommes coupables, pour l’amour de son fils innocent.

  XXVIII

  All English women, as well as women of other nations, prefer France to their own country; because in France there is much less restraint on their actions, than there is (should I not say, than there was?) in England. All Englishmen, however, who have young and beautiful wives, should, if they are not indifferent about their conduct, avoid a trip to Paris, &c. though it be but for “a six weeks tour”: she must be good and wise too, if six weeks does not corrupt her mind and debauch her morals, and that too by her own sex, which is infinitely the most dangerous company. A French woman is as great an adept at laughing an English woman into all contempt of fidelity to her husband, as married English women are in general, in preparing them during their first pregnancy, for the touch of a man-midwife—and both from the same motive; i.e. to do as they have done, and bring all the sex upon a level.

  XXIX

  The French will not allow their language to be so difficult to speak properly as the English language; and perhaps they are in the right; for how often do we meet with Englishmen who speak French perfectly? How seldom do we hear a Frenchman speak English, without betraying his country by his pronunciation? It is not so with the Spaniards: I conversed with two Spaniards who were never twenty miles from Barcelona, that spoke English perfectly well.—How, for instance, shall a Frenchman who cannot pronounce the English, be able to understand (great as the difference is) what I mean, when I say the sun is an hour high? May he not equally suppose that I said the sun is in our eye?

  XXX

  When you make an agreement with an Aubergiste where you intend to lie, take care to include beds, rooms, &c. or he will charge separately for these articles.

  XXXI

  After all, it must be confessed, that Mons. Dessein’s, à l’Hôtel d’Angleterre at Calais, is not only the first inn strangers of fashion generally go to, but that it is also the first and best inn in France. Dessein is the decoy-duck, and ought to have a salary from the French government—he is always sure of a good one from the English.

  XXXII

  In frontier or garrison towns, where they have a right to examine your baggage, a twenty-four sols piece, and assuring the officer that you are a gentleman, and not a merchant, will carry you through without delay.

  XXXIII

  Those who travel post should, before they set out, put up in parcels money for the number of horses they use for one post, two posts, and a post et demi, adding to each parcel that which is intended to be given to the driver or drivers, who are intitled by the king’s ordonnance to five sols a post; and if they behave ill, they should be given no more: when they are civil ten or twelve sols a post is sufficient. If these packets are not prepared and properly marked, the traveller, especially if he is not well acquainted with the money, cannot count it out while the horses are changing, from the number of beggars which surround the carriage, and who will take no denial.

  XXXIV

  People of rank and condition, either going to, or coming from the continent, by writing to PETER FECTOR, Esq; at Dover, will find him a man of property and character, on whom they may depend.

  XXXV

  Never let a Frenchman with whom you live, or with whom you travel, be master. An Englishman cannot possibly live twenty-four hours with a Frenchman who commands; he will try for that superiority; but by one single pointed resolution, shew him it must not be so, and he will give it up, and become an useful, and an agreeable companion.

  XXXVI

  Always carry a machine to secure the bedchamber doors at inns where you sleep, and see that there are no holes behind large pictures in the room, large enough for a man to creep through. Too much caution cannot be taken in a country where murther and robbery are, in a manner, synonimous terms.

  LASTLY

  Valetudinarians, or men of a certain age, who travel into the southern parts of France, Spain, or Italy, should never omit to wear either a callico or fine flannel waistcoat under their shirts. Strange as it may seem to say so, this precaution is more necessary in the south of France, than in England. In May last it was so hot at Lyons, on the side of the streets the sun shone on, and so cold on the shady side, that both were intolerable. The air is much more sharp and penetrat
ing in hot climates than in cold. A dead dog, thrown into the streets of Madrid at night, will not have a bit of flesh upon his bones by eight o’clock the next morning; and that, as I am well assured, from the vifeness of the air alone; and if northern people will go thin clad, and contend with the natives, whose long experience ought to be considered, they cannot wonder if they are treated with contempt, especially where the error must be on the safest side; and they must take the consequences.

  As to travelling in Spain, little need be said, after what has been inserted in the foregoing sheets; and, therefore, the general account of the country, and character of the people, may be pretty well conceived, by the following account of both:

  Spain, then, is at this day a vast desert, inhabited by a grave, steady-appearing race of men, which all their manners and actions, as well as discourse, seem to confirm; but they refuse the bountiful offers of nature, though she stretches out her arms to give it them in the most liberal manner. Perhaps their superstition, and the want of LIBERTY, renders it not worth receiving.

  The soil of Spain is in general very fertile, and infinitely variegated, as to heat and cold, by the different aspect of mountains, or in the plains most distant from mountains. Their pastures are excellent, and their sheep numerous. Every climate, and every soil, may be found in this kingdom, and consequently every thing which man can ask of God, might be had there in perfection, were it not for the idle, inactive, slothful disposition of the natives; for they have in, and upon their soil, the riches of all other nations: but a bag of onions, a piece of bread, and a bunch of grapes, is all that a Spaniard requires for his subsistance in twenty-four hours. There does not live a more abstemious race of men; but their country must, while they remain under their present laws and religion, continue uncultivated, and almost depopulated. They will not labour themselves, nor would they allow Philip III. to bring strangers among them who would! Their HONOUR was too much at stake in that respect, and their pride withholds their own hands. Add to this, their great number of religious houses filled with idle monks, who are of no more use to the public than dead men; for they consume, without adding to the state: had the Spaniards the industry of other nations, what a vast trade might they carry on with their neighbours in Africa! instead of which they hold with them a perpetual war. These considerations, with the multitude of offices; their incredible number of servants, their passion for bull-baiting and intriguing, employ all their attention. They are all, in their own imagination, from the king to the cobbler, men of too high birth to stoop to the earth, but to gather what she offers spontaneously: and the soil is well fitted to the inhabitants, or the inhabitants to the soil; perhaps, too, wisely so ordained by the MAKER OF BOTH. It certainly, however, is fortunate for this country, and perhaps to all their neighbouring nations; and therefore, though as a citizen of the world one cannot behold such a fine country without lamenting its neglected condition; yet, as a native of this, it ought to be a matter of triumph.

  UNPLEASANT VOYAGES

  The Distresses of the Unfortunate Crew of the Ship Anne and Mary.

  The Loss of the Luxborough.

  The Sufferings of Six Deserters going from St. Helena to Brazil.

  Fra Denis de Carli in the Congo.

  The Wonderful Preservation of the Ship Terra Nova.

  The first three voyages are taken from The Mariner’s Chronicle … a collection … of Shipwrecks, Fires, Famines, And other Calamities incident to a Life of Maritime Enterprise … by Archibald Duncan, Esq. Late of the Royal Navy, published in 1804–05 in four volumes 12mo. There are other accounts of the three voyages, but Mr. Duncan’s flat, moralising prose throws the horrors into a sharper contrast than any amount of declamation.

  Fra de Carli’s travels and May’s account of the ship Terra Nova come from Churchill, volumes I and VI.

  Denis de Carli of Piacenza and Michael Angelo of Gattina were Capuchin friars who went to the Congo as missionaries in 1666. Fra Michael Angelo died there, but his companion returned safely to Italy. Fra de Carli provides his own introduction, so no more is needed here.

  Mr. May’s account of his dismal passage in the Terra Nova contains all that I have been able to find about him. There is an odd thing about the voyage: although the whole ship was on the edge of starvation, the crew never seems to have come into contact with the passengers. Perhaps the prestige of a seventeenth-century duchess was too great to allow any familiarity in any circumstances whatsoever.

  THE DISTRESSES OF THE UNFORTUNATE CREW OF THE SHIP ANNE AND MARY FROM NORWAY TO IRELAND IN THE YEAR 1759

  THE ship Anne and Mary, of Galway, in Ireland, sailed from Drontheim, in Norway, on the 1st of September, 1759. The crew, consisting of nine persons, after their departure met with a series of contrary winds and bad weather. On the 10th of October, from an observation taken the day before, they computed themselves to be within fifteen leagues of the islands of Arran. As they had been put upon short allowance some time before, the idea of being so near their desired port was highly pleasing; but that very night, the ship oversetting, she was tossed about for the space of five hours. The cabin being soon afterwards entirely carried away, together with their provisions and compass, they were left exposed to the mercy of the seas, and deprived of all means of governing the hull.

  Two days passed without their tasting a morsel excepting two rats which they caught. What followed next nothing but devouring famine could have suggested. It was agreed that one should die to support the rest; and they accordingly cast lots. The first fell upon Patrick Lidane, who requested, that, for their immediate subsistence, they would take only the calves of his legs; representing that, perhaps, Providence might do more for them than they expected before they should be necessitated to have farther recourse to him. His request was granted; and after cutting away the flesh of his legs, which they ate raw, and of which he begged a morsel for himself, but was refused, he was permitted to live thirty hours.

  The second person who suffered the same fate was James Lee; and the fourth was Bryan Flaherty. On these four bodies, which were eaten raw, and without any kind of drink, but what rain-water they could catch in the skulls of the killed, the rest subsisted from about the 21st October to the 1st of December. In this interval three of them who had escaped the lot, after languishing for a considerable time, expired on the forecastle. On the last mentioned day the vessel was driven into the county of Kerry. The Captain, and Michael M’Daniel, the only survivors, were so worn out with famine and distress, that they were unable to stand, and scarcely shewed any signs of life; and notwithstanding the greatest care, tenderness, and humanity was extended to them by James Crosbie, Esq. of that neighbourhood, and his lady, the Captain died about thirty hours after he was brought on shore. The same charitable attention was continued to M’Daniel, who, as soon as he was in a condition to travel made the best of his way to Galway, to fulfil the dying injunctions of the men who fell by lot, and who severally made it their last and earnest request, that whoever should survive, should repair to that town and relate to their friends their miserable sufferings and sad catastrophe.

  CAPTAIN BOYCE’S

  NARRATIVE OF THE LOSS OF THE LUXBOROUGH, AND HIS PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE AND SUFFERINGS IN THE YEAR 1727.

  CAPTAIN BOYCE, who for many years enjoyed the highly honorable situation of Lieutenant-Governor of Greenwich Hospital, and died in 1774, was, in the early part of his life, employed in the merchants’ service. In the year 1727 he was second mate of the Luxborough, a ship belonging to the South Sea Company. In that year the most terrible of all misfortunes befel the above-mentioned vessel, of which, and the subsequent distresses, we have the following melancholy account from Captain Boyce himself.

  On the 23rd of May, 1727, we sailed from Jamaica, and on Sunday, the 25th of June, were in the latitude of 41° 45 N. and in the longitude of 20° E. from Crooked Island, when the galley was perceived to be on fire in the lazaretto. It was occasioned by the fatal curiosity of two black boys, who, willing to know whether
some liquor spilt on the deck was rum or water, put the candle to it, which rose into a flame, and immediately communicated itself to the barrel from which the liquor had leaked. It had burned some time before it was perceived, as the boys were too much intimidated to discover it themselves, having tried all means to extinguish the fire in vain. We hoisted out the yawl, which was soon filled with twenty-three men and boys, who jumped into her with the utmost eagerness. The wind now blowing very fresh, and the yawl running seven knots and a half by the log, we expected every moment to perish, as she was loaded within a streak and a half of her gunnel.

  We had not a morsel of victuals, nor a drop of water; no mast, no sail, no compass to direct our course, and above one hundred leagues from any land. We left in the ship sixteen men, who all perished with her. They endeavored to hoist out the long boat, but before they could effect it, the flames reaching the powder room she blew up, and we saw her no more. A little before this we could distinguish the first mate and the captain’s cook in the mizen-top, every moment expecting the fate that awaited them.

  Having thus been eye-witnesses of the miserable fate of our companions, we expected every moment to perish by the waves, or, if not by them, at least by hunger and thirst. On the first two days it blew and rained much, but the weather coming fair the third day, the 28th, as kind Providence had hitherto wonderfully preserved us, we began to contrive the means of making a sail, which we effected in the following manner:—We took to pieces three men’s frocks and a shirt, and with a sail needle and twine, which we found in one of the black boy’s pockets, we made a shift to sew them together, which answered tolerably well. Finding in the sea a small stick, we woulded it to a piece of a broken blade of an oar we had in the boat, and made a yard of it, which we hoisted on an oar, with our garters for halyards and sheets. A thimble, which the fore-sheet of the boat used to be reeved through, served at the end of the oar or mast to reeve the halyards.