Tour Through France
Paris to Zabern

Tour Through France.

By H. and F. RIECK, Coff’s Harbour, N.S. Wales.

Zabern (Elsass), 26th August, 1905.

In a previous letter we described our journey from the French harbour, Dieppe, to the town of St. Denis, a suburb of Paris. In the Rue des Ursulines in this town, I—yours truly, F.R.—had in the year 1871, as a German soldier the last quarters, when, after the conclusion of peace, in the month of June, our IV. Regiment II. Company of the Prussian Guards got marching orders homewards.

The wide stretch of country in the north of Paris, from the village of Courbevoie in the west to Villetaneuse-Pierrefitte in the east, was the range of our guarde corps (40,000 men), vorpost-service in that rough winter, when the German war-fist lay heavy on the enemy. Paris! What manifold changes have occurred since leaving this landscape of eternal restlessness for that peaceable, idyllic friendly home close to the Pacific Ocean at Coff’s Harbour, and where, in the beginning of the year 1881, the gigantic spurs of a fig-tree (ficus judica) were my first shelter on my selection then taken up. My dear wife, Fanny Elizabeth, had a great desire to visit the lands in England, south of the Mersey River, from where her parents, about 55 years ago, emigrated to South Australia, while I had a desire to behold the fair town of Paris again, into which, during that severe period of the siege, it was only possible for me to cast a rapid glance.

While in London we took furnished rooms for a period of five weeks, in St. Denis and Paris, and, as in London, had the good luck to get a very decent, cheap, comfortable, and healthy little room.

Paris, which is visited by crowds of foreigners of all nations and social classes, offers a variety of establishments and institutions suitable for the varying finances of the visitors. We arranged ourselves, and lived according to our state as farmers, and can truthfully state that we never, in all our many travels and sojourns, lived better, cheaper, or more pleasantly than in Paris. The only complaint was the inability of Mrs. Rieck to speak and understand French, a fact which, notwithstanding its disadvantage, has also its beneficial side.

The climate of Paris is charming. The dark-blue, perfectly clear sky is quite the reverse of the almost eternal fog, dust-and-smoke-veil overhanging the North of Germany and England, especially London. The underground drainage, electric railways, underground and electric trams through all streets, with all the strict hygienic institutions of Paris, are first-class. If we compare the present aspect of the fine broad boulevards, avenues and streets of present Paris with the old paintings of streets of times before Emperor Napoleon III, we must confess that these enormous improvements which this, often wrongly blamed, monarch, through the famous German engineer Haussmann, executed, has proved a great blessing. Space forbids a detailed description.

During our five weeks stay in this interesting and charming city, which is so abundantly rich in historical associations, we had, in very many walking tours within the thronged streets and cycle excursions in the suburbs, not one part left unvisited from Montmorency in the north to Valenciennes and Versailles in the south, and from the Bois de Boulogne and the Trocadero in the west to the Gardin des Buttes Chaumont in the east.

We lived near the Gare du Nord (North R. Station) on the Rue de Dunkergue, south of the Montmartre, on which summit at present a splendid church, “Sacre Coeur,” is erected, in the midst of the high-terraced public gardens, from where one can overlook, towards the south, the whole of Paris. The city of Paris is an immense one, and is visited all the year through by visitors, tourists, and sightseers of all nations and colours. Inexperienced strangers are terribly fleeced, for the hotelkeepers in Paris are experts in charging their customers. To give our readers an insight into this system of overcharging strangers we give the correct statement of a German waiter. This very smart youngster, able fluently and perfectly to speak five languages, and up to all the tricks of his trade, assured us that he was occupied in such a tip-top hotel, where, for permission to serve the elegant customers, he had permission to pay to the “maitre de hotel” the sum of 20 francs (16s) daily. He had to pay cash for the food and drink ordered by the guests, and also the washing of linen required for the table. He used to make on tips and overcharges a clear daily profit of 120 francs (£1).

It was a great treat to wander through these parts of old Europe, where history has left unmistakable traces. The Notre Dame Church, with the very imposing and majestic monument of Charlemagne (Kaiser Karl der Grosse) in front, who here on this spot 1000 years ago built the first Christian Church, claim attention; further on we see the lovely ancient buildings and gardens of the Palais Royal, in olden times built far outside the gates of Paris, now in the very centre of this city, overgrown and run through with now also old lanes and streets of historical interest, old Rue Beaujolais, Rue des Petites Champs, etc., etc. Not far away is the later splendid Kings’ residence, Le Louvre, and farther on the Tuilleries (now a charming garden, formerly brickmakers’ fields); then the Place de Concorda, where, in the year 1793, the long tormented, desperate, and landless populace broke the chains, and chopped off the heads of the French aristocracy holding all the lands of France in possession. Going further on westwards through the Champs Elysses we reach the Arc de l’Etvile, which was, after all his many victories, erected by Emperor Napoleon I. This proud arch had, on the 1st of March, 1871, to behold the victorious march of German armies into Paris. We also visited Versailles Castle, which stands in the midst of grand forests, south of Paris. Here the French Kings, Emperors, and Presidents used to ride in the hot summer months, and from it the French Government’s troops, at the end of the Franco-German war, had to bombard and storm Paris, which was held by a mutinous Parisian mob. In the same castle, during the siege of Paris by the Germans, King William of Prussia was by all German Princes proclaimed Emperor. The two little old castles in the woods of Versailles, the big and small Tridnons, were visited, where Madame Pompadour and Madame D’Aubigny in the times of the pigtail wigs, with enamoured King and Court of France celebrated their orgies in that epoch of aristocratic high life, and where afterwards Madame Maintenon lived and the unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette resided shortly before her head fell under the guillotine.

The French farmer is quite a different man to the Parisian. The former was hitherto trained in clerical schools, but at present his education is somewhat neglected. He is very diligent, frugal, jolly and sound of body and heart. All in old age, especially the females, grow bent through overwork. Not the smallest piece of soil is neglected by the intense cultivation of the land, which is often hard, poor, and dry. All products bring good prices, and are, by good roads and cheap railway fares, easily and profitably brought to town. Wine, bread, fruit, milk, cheese and butter are produced in abundance in France, and need not be imported from foreign countries. Only meat is dear, as the import is restricted by high duties. Tobacco is a monopoly of Government.

The Parisian is a jolly, sickly, tender, polite convivant, likes to look down upon all foreigners, and also upon his own farmer population, whom he appears to think it his duty to cheat and to detest. The Parisian is very fond of posing sometimes in an utterly ridiculous way. He is always looking out for a change, be it in style or dress, religion, government, and—wife. The Parisian female (of course always a lady) tries to outdo the male in all these qualities, even in smoking cigarettes and drinking many colored spirits with high sounding names. She is also very fond of painting her face white, cheeks rosy, mouth scarlet, and eyebrows black. Respect for police, as it is found in England and Germany, does not exist in Paris. In many rows, where we saw the police doing their hard duty for the benefit of traffic and common welfare, we almost always saw numerous elegant and ragged rowdies take part against the police, while the good citizens are too delicate or too cowardly to stand up for the law. — The glory of war has been since oldest times a kind of Gospel for the French nation. This appears to be a thing of the past. Neither the Rhine nor the Nile would again bring the French war temper up to a state of explosion. As long as their dignity is maintained, and their neighbours do not make them nervous with sword-clashing and treat them with courtesy, all is well.

On Saturday, August 12th, 1905, we sent away our luggage to Strassburg, and, as the weather was fine, we left early on Sunday, 13th. We decided to travel along the Marne River, and via Metz to Strassburg, so as to have the least mountains to climb. We left Paris, riding eastwards, about 9.30 a.m., and at 11 o’clock were clear of the city and all the network of suburbs, and in the fresh green country. We passed many small villages, and, as it was still very hot, took dinner with a litre of the splendid wine, followed by a couple of hours rest. At 4 o’clock we reached the town of Meaux, about 41 kilometres from Paris, and a few miles further we reached the Marne River, along whose banks we travelled through most charming scenery for many pleasant days. The first night we reached La Ferte Sur Jouarre, 64 km. from Paris, and were warmly welcomed by a fat old innkeeper, who could speak some words of English, and his wife, who gave us an excellent supper. We spent a happy evening on the banks of this lovely river, which is navigable by small barges. Wine is grown along the hills, but is inferior to the quality obtainable in Paris.

The next day we had to climb many a steep hill with our bicycles, on to a high tableland, which, like the rich river flats, was cultivated to the smallest space. In many of the villages the steam thrashing machines were at work, even in the many narrow streets, and we would sometimes have difficulty in passing through the small space left for foot traffic. The harvest was everywhere being brought home. Farmers, with wives and children, worked all day, and on Sundays also. The mowing and binding machines seem to be very commonly used for wheat, rye, and oats; but buckwheat, lucerne, etc., were mostly cut with the scythe, and the former bound into bundles like hay.

On the second day, Monday, we passed Chateau Thiery, on the Marne River banks, and reached the village of Goulgone, with our wheels in a bad state. We expected to buy Continental (clincher) mantels for our wheels in every civilised country, but they were not found in this part of France. The weather, being so very hot, the pneumatic tyres of bicycles suffer very much, and it was a work of art to patch them up so as to reach the big towns in safety and effect the necessary repairs.

On Tuesday we passed the pretty little town of Epernay, which was beautifully decorated with French tricolor flags, green wreaths, flowers, and paper lacework. This date, 15th of August, seemed to be a great national holiday, and musical bands from all towns in this part of France were assembled in Epernay. It was no use to try and stay there the night, and as it was still early, we kept scudding along the fine main road, and reached the city of Chalous Sur Marne. This is a pretty well kept place of antiquated style on the Marne River, with fine freestone bridges over the stream, under which barges and small steamers passed. Although only about 7 o’clock, we were induced to stay the night there, as our wheels required a careful overhaul, for which I wanted some material, only obtainable in towns.

On Wednesday we left with regret the fertile banks of the Marne River, and climbed many long and steep hill roads in the direction of Cleremont, eventually reaching the village and pretty old Castle of St. Menehoud. The hills and tablelands are too stony for cultivation and of poor soil, but covered with splendid forest trees, and wherever a small patch of better soil existed, fruit trees and grain, around small farm settlements, were cultivated. On the whole the farmers, quite jolly and busily employed, had poor crops, houses and cattle. We stayed in a small village in a house where a friendly old woman kept a tobacco and wine shop, and ate our dinner of eggs and bacon, wine and bread, before the house, under a kind of a verandah. While there we noticed, on the doorstep of a neighbouring house, a funny little fat female dwarf, standing about three feet high, and about four feet round the body, apparently about 30 years old. She appeared a veritable child in sense, and was very shy when spoken to. She might be a fortune to some people; but the poor parents and relations would not part with her.

After travelling through such poor country all day, it was a pleasant change, towards evening, to run through a fertile valley, and a late hour found us in the pretty little farming village of Plette, where we were so well housed and made comfortable that we regretted not being able to stay a few days there.

Thursday found us climbing very high hills again. The patches on our wheel mantels did their duty bravely. We passed through the ancient town of Cleremont, situated on a very high hill, and then long high plains stretched before us, reaching the fortifications of Verdun. This is a very strong place, with narrow streets, full of soldiers, unkempt women, and poverty stricken children. It appears that Verdun is a fortress, where military convicts are kept at hard work. We were heartily glad to get outside these enormous fortification works, and over the moats, into country air again. Coming towards the German boundary, we noticed amongst the hills some fresh earthwork being carried out—detached forts. Outside the fortifications of Verdun we lunched at a restaurant named “La Chatte” (the female cat). At this part of France it is advisable to drink no more “vin ordinaire,” but beer or coffee. Tea of good quality is only obtainable in France at high prices at chemists shops. The wine in “La Chatte” scratched our throats, therefore the name of the hotel is appropriate, and we approved of the correctness.

Within 10 kilometres of the town of Etain we stayed for the night in a small village, at the house of a very well to do farmer, who also kept an inn. I think this friendly little place is called Ville au Bois, or something similar. We were very hospitably treated. We slept in an enormously high, broad bed, and in the morning were given coffee au lait, i.e., two big basins of boiled hot milk, wherein coffee extract is poured. Plenty of sugar is added, bread broken into the coffee, and the whole eaten with tablespoons. The good people only charged us three frances, and would by no means take more. This was our last night in la belle France. Next day, Friday, the 18th, at noon, the date of the murderous battle of Gravelotte, we crossed the border into German territory. We could both speak German again, after long weeks of parlez vous Francais, a fact which Mrs. F. R. enjoyed greatly, as her tongue gets full liberty to have long yarns with any of the good females we meet. We pass over the description of the monuments of the many thousands of brave men who lay buried in these wide fields. We ran into the village of Gravelotte for lunch, and found that, as it just happened to be the anniversary of the great battle, 18th Aug., 1870, the little place was crowded to overflowing with visitors, military officers, soldiers, veterans, with their wives and children, music and beer. We were only able to get a few glasses of excellent beer, and after very pleasant chats with old war comrades, and writing the usual post-cards to friends, we left for the town of Metz. We found Metz vastly improved since our last visit in 1901. Many detached forts have been built on the hills surrounding the town, which is relieved from the high, old fashioned stone embankments, and give room for formidable low green fortification works, thereby creating more space for movements of troops and letting more air into the town. Inside of Metz there is no space to build, but many old unhealthy looking edifices have been pulled down to make room for up-to-date elegant shops and houses. We went at once to a good wheel repairer, whom we remembered on our last visit, and bought all that was necessary to make our machines good again. We had dinner in the splendid restaurant “Kl[?]hoff,” and then visited our former acquaintance, a postman and family, where we, in 1901, lodged for a week.

We left Metz at 2 o’clock on 19th, and travelled through Lorraine en route to Zabern and Strasburg, passed the village of Kurzell (French Courcelles), near which Emperor William II, possesses a small castle, “Urville,” and to which this monarch pays a visit every year. Our wheels were now in perfect order, and a brisk west wind helping us we soon reached, notwithstanding the hilly character of the country, Mohringen, 45 kilom. from Metz. Here we rested for the night, and had our supper at the same table where a gentleman took his evening meal, who proved to be an insurance inspector from Darmstadt, Germany, sent by his company to adjust a claim for damages done on standing crops of grain by hailstorms. This gentleman was in the state, and quite willing, to give us information about the great improvements of the agricultural and pastoral lands in Alsace-Lorraine, since they (mostly inhabited by a German-speaking farmer population) again became parts of the German Empire. Stretches of land, formerly poor, are now occupied by landowners, some of whom own as many as fifty horses and a hundred cattle, all of which are stall fed. The whole of the streets about this part of Lorraine (Lothringen) are in a perfect state, and are lined with fruit trees, bearing abundantly, especially apples.

On the next day (Sunday) one of our wheels picked up a soldier’s boot-nail, and consequently lost wind. Consequently we had to settle under some plum trees along the road and repair the damage leisurely. Resuming our journey we reached within a mile of the little fortification of Pfalzburg, where we stayed the night in a friendly farmer’s village inn, and reached Zabern, Elsass (French: Saverne, Alsace), early next morning.

The high walls of Pfalzburg have been, by the German military authorities, demolished and removed, the moat filled up and planted with vegetable gardens, orchards, etc. Many pleasure grounds are laid out, where not long ago unhealthy fortification tunnels, cellars, barracks, and watch-towers existed.

To reach the town of Zabern we had to cross a very high range of the Vosges Mountains. This mountain is densely covered with forest, which, under the care of theoretically and practically trained foresters, is kept in such trim that it affords a rich source of income for the State as well as cheap and good fuel and building material for the inhabitants for present and future times.

These “blue Alsatian mounthins,” as the old English song calls them, took us just one hour to walk down (5 kilom.) in a zig zag. The road is broad, in first-class condition, and gives on the many turns in this clear summer weather brilliant views all over the glorious country. The descent in many places is so steep that it is highly dangerous for cyclists. We were warned that very many accidents have happened here. At length we entered the ancient and pretty town of Zabern (the centre of the “saga” of the “holy genofeva,” the “beautiful melusine,” the “giants playthings,” and many others).

Originally we intended to go from here to Strasburg, but as we heard that at the present time a great meeting of Catholic delegates and guests from all parts of Europe was held there, in consequence of which all hotels would be overcrowded; we hired a small furnished room at Zabern. I took our berg-stocks and marched off into the mountain forests.