Europe -- Description and travel; United States -- Description and travel
There are packets twice a day from Havre across the mouth of the Seine,
a seven miles’ run, to Honfleur, described in guide-books as a dirty
little town, utterly without interest. I can only say I have seldom been
in a place of its size, not the site of any great historic event, which
is better worth spending an afternoon in, and I should strongly advise
my typical Englishman to follow this route. In the first place, the
situation is beautiful. From the steep wooded heights above the town,
where are a chapel, much frequented by sailors, and some villas, there
are glorious views up the Seine, across to Havre, and out over the sea.
Then, in the town, there is the long street, which runs down to the
lighthouse, and which, I suppose, the guide-book people never visit, as
it is out of the way. It is certainly as picturesque a street as can
be found in Rouen, or any other French town I have ever seen--except
Troyes, by the way. The houses are not large, but there is scarcely one
of them which Prout would not be proud to ask to sit to him.
Then there is the church in the centre of the town by the market-place,
with the most eccentric of little spires. It seems, at an early period
of the Middle Ages, to have taken it into its clock--or whatever answers
to a spire’s head--that it would seer more of the world, and to have
succeeded in getting about thirty yards away from its nave. Here,
probably finding locomotion a tougher business than it reckoned on, it
has fallen asleep, and, while it slept, several small houses crept up
against its base and fell asleep also. And there it remains to this day,
looking down over the houses in which people live, and many apples and
pears are being sold, and crying, like the starling, “I can’t get out.”
There is a splendid straight avenue, stretching a mile and a half up the
Caen road, and a good little harbour full of English vessels, which
ply the egg and fruit trade, and over every third door in the sailors’
quarter you see “Cook-house” written up in large letters, for the
benefit of the British sailor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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