But the system of bathing in France is so sensible and good compared with our own; the facilities for learning to swim, the accommodation for bathers, and the accessories, are so superior to anything we know of in England, that we hardly like to hint at any drawbacks. We need not all go to Trouville (some of us cannot afford it), but we may live at most of these bathing places at less cost, and with more comfort and amus.e.m.e.nt than at home. They do manage some things better in France: at the seaside here the men dress in suits of flannel, and wear light canvas shoes habitually; the women swim, and take their children with them into the water,--floating them with gourds, which accustoms them to the water, and to the use of their limbs. At the hotels and restaurants, they provide cheap and appetizing little dinners; there is plenty of ice in hot weather, and cooling drinks are to be had everywhere: in short, in these matters the practical common sense of the French people strikes us anew, every time we set foot on their sh.o.r.es. Why it should be so, we cannot answer; but as long as it is so, our countrymen and countrywomen may well crowd to French watering-places.

The situation of Trouville is thus described by Blanchard Jerrold, who knows the district better than most Englishmen:--'Even the sh.o.r.e has been subdued to comfortable human uses; rocks have been picked out of the sand, until a carpet as smooth as Paris asphalte has been obtained for the fastidious feet of n.o.ble dames, who are the finishing bits of life and colour in the exquisite scene. Even the ribbed sand is not smooth enough; a boarded way has been fixed from the casino to the mussel banks, whither the dandy resorts to play at mussel gathering, in a nautical dress that costs a sailor's income. The great and rich have planted their Louis XIII. chateaux, their 'maisons mauresques' and 'pavillons a la renaissance,' so closely over the available slopes, round about the immense and gaudily-appointed Casino, and the Hotel of the Black Rocks, that it has been found necessary to protect them with masonry of more than Roman strength. From these works of startling force, and boldness of design, the view is a glorious one indeed. To the right stretches the white line of Havre, pointed with its electric _phare_; to the left, the sh.o.r.e swells and dimples, and the hills, in gentle curves, rise beyond. Deauville is below, and beyond--a flat, formal place of fashion, where ladies exhibit the genius of Worth to one another, and to the astonished fishermen.

Imagine a splendid court playing at seaside life; imagine such a place as Watteau would have designed, with inhabitants as elegantly rustic as his, and you imagine a Trouville. It is the village of the millionaire--the stage whereon the d.u.c.h.ess plays the hoyden, and the princess seeks the exquisite relief of being natural for an hour or two.

No wonder every inch of the rock is disputed; there are so many now in the world who have sipped all the pleasures the city has to give.

Masters of the art of entering a drawing-room, the Parisians crowd seaward to get the sure foot of the mussel-gatherer upon the slimy granite of a bluff Norman headland; they bring their taste with them, and they get heartiness in the bracing air. The _salon_ of the casino, at the height of the season, is said to show at once the most animated and diverting a.s.semblage of Somebodies to be seen in the world.'

DEAUVILLE, separated only by the river Touques, is a place of greater pretension even than Trouville. It is, however, quite in its infancy; it was planned for a handsome and extensive watering-place, but the death of the Duc de Morny has stopped its growth,--large tracts of land, in what should be the town, still lying waste. It is quiet compared with Trouville, select and 'aristocratic,' and boasts the handsomest casino in France; it is built for the most part upon a sandy plain, but the houses are so tastefully designed, and so much has been made of the site, that (from some points of view) it presents, with its background of hills, a singularly picturesque appearance.

No matter how small or uninteresting the locality, if it is to be fashionable, _il n'y aura point de difficulte_. If there are no natural attractions, the ingenious and enterprising speculator will provide them; if there are no trees, he will bring them,--no rocks, he will manufacture them,--no river, he will cut a winding ca.n.a.l,--no town, he will build one,--no casino, he will erect a wooden shed on the sands!

But of all the bathing-places on the north coast of Normandy the little fishing-village of eTRETAT will commend itself most to English people, for its bold coast and bracing air. Situated about seventeen miles north-east of Havre, shut in on either side by rocks which form a natural arch over the sea, the little bay of etretat--with its brilliant summer crowd of idlers and its little group of fishermen who stand by it in all weathers--is one of the quaintest of the nooks and corners of France.

There is a homelike snugness and retirement about the position of etretat, and a mystery about the caves and caverns--extending for long distances under its cliffs--which form an attraction that we shall find nowhere else. Since Paris has found it out, and taken it by storm as it were, the little fishermen's village has been turned into a gay _parterre_; its shingly beach lined with chairs _a volonte_, and its sh.o.r.es smoothed and levelled for delicate feet. The _Casino_ and the _etabliss.e.m.e.nt_ are all that can be desired; whilst pretty chalets and villas are scattered upon the hills that surround the town. There is scarcely any 'town' to speak of; a small straggling village, with the remains of a Norman church, once close to the sea (built on the spot where the people once watched the great flotilla of William the Conqueror drift eastward to St. Valery), and on the sh.o.r.e, old worn-out boats, thatched and turned into fishermen's huts and bathing retreats.

etretat has its peculiar customs; the old fisher-women, who a.s.sume the more profitable occupation of washerwomen during the summer, go down to the sh.o.r.e as the tide is ebbing, and catch the spring water on its way to the sea; scooping out the stones, and making natural washing-tubs of fresh water close to the sea--a work of ten minutes or so, which is all washed away by the next tide. At etretat almost everybody swims and wears a costume of blue serge, trimmed with scarlet, or other bright colour; and everybody sits in the afternoon in the gay little bay, purchases sh.e.l.l ornaments and useless souvenirs, sips coffee or ices, and listens to the band. For a very little place, without a railway, and with only two good hotels, etretat is wonderfully lively and attractive; and the drives in the neighbourhood add to its natural attractions.

The show is nearly over for the season, at etretat, by the time we leave it; the puppets are being packed up for Paris, and even the boxes that contained them will soon be carted away to more sheltered places. It is late in September, and the last few bathers are making the most of their time, and wandering about on the sands in their most brilliant attire; but their time is nearly over, etretat will soon be given up to the fishermen again--like the bears in the high Pyrenees, that wait at the street corners of the mountain towns, and scramble for the best places after the visitors have left, the natives of etretat are already preparing to return to their winter quarters.

It is the finest weather of the year, and the setting sun is brilliant upon the sh.o.r.e; a fishing-boat glides into the bay, and a little fisher-boy steps out upon the sands. He comes down towards us, facing the western sun, with such a glory of light about his head, such a halo of fresh youth, and health, as we have not seen once this summer, in the 'great world.' His feet are bare, and leave their tiny impress on the sand--a thousand times more expressive than any Parisian boot; his little bronzed hands are crystallized with the salt air; his dark-brown curls are flecked with sea-foam, and flutter in the evening breeze; his face is radiant--a reflection of the sun, a mystery of life and beauty half revealed.

After all we have seen and heard around us, it is like turning, with a thankful sense of rest, from the contemplation of some tricky effect of colour, to a painting by t.i.tian or Velasquez; it is, in an artistic sense, transition from darkness to light--from the glare of the lamp to the glory of the true day.

APPENDIX TO NORMANDY PICTURESQUE.

Sketch of Route, showing the Distances, Fares, &c., to and from the princ.i.p.al Places in Normandy.

TRAVELLING EXPENSES over the whole of this Route (including the journey from London to Havre, or Dieppe, and back) do not amount to more than 4l. 4s. first cla.s.s, and need not exceed 3l. 10s. (see p.

240). HOTEL EXPENSES average about 10s. a day.

Thus it is possible to accomplish month's tour for 20, and one of two months for 35.

There are _no good hotels_ in Normandy (excepting at the seaside) according to modern ideas of comfort and convenience. CAEN, AVRANCHES, and ROUEN may be mentioned as the best places at which to stay, _en route_.

Havre to Pont Audemer.--Steamboat direct.--Fare 2frs. Or via Honfleur or Trouville, by boat and diligence.

Dieppe to Pont Audemer.--Railway (via Rouen and Glosmontfort) 65 miles. Fare, first cla.s.s, 12frs. 50c. (10s.)

PONT AUDEMER (Pop. 6000). Hotels: _Pot d'etain_ (old-fashioned in style, but no longer in prices); _Lion d'Or_.

Pont Audemer to Lisieux.--Diligence. Distance, 22 miles.--Or by Ry. 43 miles; fare, 8frs. 50c. (7s.) Fare.[64]

LISIEUX (Pop. 13,000). Hotels: _de France_, (on a quiet boulevard, with garden); _d'Espagne_, &c.

Lisieux to Caen.--Railway, 30 miles. Fare, 5frs. 50c. (4s. 6d.)

CAEN (Pop. 44,000). Hotels: _d'Angleterre_, (well-managed, central, and bustling); _d'Espagne_, &c.

Caen to Bayeux.--Railway, 19 miles. Fare, 3frs. 40c. (2s. 9d.)

BAYEUX (Pop. 9,500). Hotels: _du Luxembourg, Grand Hotel_, &c.

Bayeux to St. Lo.--Railway 28 miles. Fare, 5frs. (4s.)

[Bayeux to Cherbourg. Rly. 63 miles. Fare, 11frs. 40s. (9s. 6d.)]

[For Hotels, &c., see App., p. iv.]

ST. LO (Pop. 10,000). Hotel: _du Soleil Levant_ (quiet and commercial.)

St. Lo to Coutances.--Diligence, 16 miles.

COUTANCES (Pop. 9000). Hotels: _de France, du Dauphin, &c._ (indifferent).

Coutances to Granville.--Diligence, 18 miles.

GRANVILLE (Pop. 17,000). Hotels: _du Nord_ (large and bustling, crowded with English from the Channel Islands); _Trois Couronnes, &c._ (See p. 123.)

Granville to Avranches.--Diligence, 16 miles.

AVRANCHES (Pop. 9000). Hotels: _d'Angleterre, de Bretagne, &c._ (accustomed to English people.)

[Excursion to Mont St. Michel and back in one day; Carriage, 15frs, (12s. 6d.). Distance, 10 miles; or by Pont Orson (the best route), 13 miles.]

Avranches to Vire.--Diligence, 36 miles (via Mortain).

VIRE (Pop. 8000). Hotel: _du Cheval Blanc_.

[Mortain to Domfront. Diligence, 17 miles. (Pop. 3000.) _Hotel de la Poste_.]

Vire to Falaise.--Diligence, 34 miles [or by Rly. 65 miles.

Fare, 12frs. (9s. 9d.)]

FALAISE (Pop. 9000). Hotels: _de Normandie, &c._ (All commercial.)

Falaise to Rouen.--Rly. 83 miles (via Mezidon and Serquiny).

Fare, 15frs. 50c. (12s. 6d.)

[At Serquiny turn off to Evreux, 26 miles. Fare from Serquiny, 4frs. 60c. (3s. 9d.) Hotel: _Grand Cerf_.]

ROUEN (Pop. 103,000). Hotels: _d'Angleterre, d'Albion, &c._ (none first-rate, generally full of English people.)

Rouen to Havre by the Seine; or by Rly.