A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany Volume I Part 6

Now for a little gossip and chit-chat about _Paper, Ink, Books, Printing-Offices_, and curiosities of a GRAPHIC description. Perhaps the most regular method would be to speak of a few of the princ.i.p.al _Presses_, before we take the _productions_ of these presses into consideration. And first, as to the antiquity of printing in Rouen.[71] The art of printing is supposed to have been introduced here, by a citizen of the name of MAUFER, between the years 1470 and 1480. Some of the specimens of Rouen _Missals_ and _Breviaries_, especially of those by MORIN, who was the second printer in this city, are very splendid. His device, which is not common, and rather striking, is here enclosed for your gratification.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Few provincial towns have been more fertile in typographical productions; and the reputation of TALLEUR, GUALTIER, and VALENTIN, gave great respectability to the press of Rouen at the commencement of the sixteenth century.

Yet I am not able to ascertain whether these presses were very fruitful in Romances, Chronicles, and Old Poetry. I rather think, however, that they were not deficient in this popular cla.s.s of literature, if I am to judge from the specimens which are yet lingering, as it were, in the hands of the curious. The gravity even of an archiepiscopal see could never repress the natural love of the French, from time immemorial, for light and fanciful reading.

You know with what pertinacity I grope about old alleys, old courts, by-lanes, and unfrequented corners--in search of what is curious, or precious, or rare in the book way. But ere we touch that enchanting chord, let us proceed according to the plan laid down. First therefore for printing-offices. Of these, the names of PeRIAUX, (_Imprimeur de l'Academie_,) BAUDRY, (_Imprimeur du Roi_) MeGARD, (_Rue Martainville_) and LECRENE-LABBEY, (_Imprimeur-Libraire et Marchand de Papiers_) are masters of the princ.i.p.al presses; but such is the influence of Paris, or of metropolitan fas.h.i.+ons, that a publisher will sometimes prefer getting his work printed at the capital.[72] Of the foregoing printers, it behoves me to make some mention; and yet I can speak personally but of two: Messieurs Periaux and Megard. M. Periaux is printer to the _Academie des Sciences, Belles-Lettres et Arts de Rouen_, of which academy, indeed, he is himself an accomplished member. He is quick, intelligent, well-bred, and obliging to the last degree; and may be considered the _Henry Stephen_ of the Rouen Printers. He urged me to call often: but I could visit him only twice. Each time I found him in his counting house, with his cap on--shading his eyes: a pen in his right hand, and a proof sheet in his left. Though he rejoiced at seeing me, I could discover (much to his praise) that, like Aldus, he wished me to "say my saying quickly,"[73] and to leave him to his _deles_ and _stets_! He has a great run of business, and lives in one of those strange, old-fas.h.i.+oned houses, in the form of a square, with an outside spiral staircase, so common in this extraordinary city. He introduced me to his son, an intelligent young man--well qualified to take the labouring oar, either upon the temporary or permanent retirement of his parent.[74]

Of Monsieur MeGARD, who may be called the ancient _Jenson_, or the modern _Bulmer_, of Rouen, I can speak only in terms of praise--both as a civil gentleman and as a successful printer. He is doubtless the most elegant printer in this city; and being also a publisher, his business is very considerable. He makes his regular half yearly journeys among the neighbouring towns and villages, and as regularly brings home the fruits of his enterprise and industry. On my first visit, M. Megard was from home; but Madame, "son epouse, l'attendoit a chaque moment!" There is a particular cla.s.s of women among the French, which may be said to be singularly distinguished for their intelligence, civility, and good breeding. I mean the wives of the more respectable tradesmen. Thus I found it, in addition to a hundred similar previous instances, with Madame Megard. "Mais Monsieur, je vous prie de vous a.s.seoir. Que voulez vous?" "I wish to have a little conversation with your husband. I am an enthusiastic lover of the art of printing. I search every where for skilful printers, and thus it is that I come to pay my respects to Monsieur Megard." We both sat down and conversed together; and I found in Madame Megard a communicative, and well-instructed, representative of the said ancient Jenson, or modern Bulmer. "Enfin, voila mon mari qui arrive"--said Madame, turning round, upon the opening of the door:--when I looked forward, and observed a stout man, rather above the middle size, with a countenance perfectly English--but accoutred in the dress of the _national guard_, with a grenadier cap on his head. Madame saw my embarra.s.sment: laughed: and in two minutes her husband knew the purport of my visit. He began by expressing his dislike of the military garb: but admitted the absolute necessity of adopting such a measure as that of embodying a national guard.

"Soyez le bien venu; Ma foi, je ne suis que trop sensible, Monsieur, de l'honneur que vous me faites--vu que vous etes antiquaire typographique, et que vous avez publie des ouvrages relatifs a notre art. Mais ce n'est pas ici qu'il faut en chercher de belles epreuves. C'est a Paris."

I parried this delicate thrust by observing that I was well acquainted with the fine productions of _Didot_, and had also seen the less aspiring ones of himself; of which indeed I had reason to think his townsmen might be proud. This I spoke with the utmost sincerity. My first visit concluded with two elegant little book-presents, on the part of M. Megard--one being _Heures de Rouen, a l'usage du Diocese_, 1814, 12mo. and the other _Etrennes nouvelles commodes et utiles_; 1815, 12mo.--the former bound in green morocco; and the latter in calf, with gilt leaves, but printed on a sort of apricot-tinted paper--producing no unpleasing effect. Both are exceedingly well executed. My visits to M. Megard were rather frequent. He has a son at the College Royale, or Lycee, whither I accompanied him, one Sunday morning, and took the church of that establishment in the way. It is built entirely in the Italian style of architecture: is exceedingly s.p.a.cious: has a fine organ, and is numerously attended. The pictures I saw in it, although by no means of first-rate merit, quite convince me that it is in churches of _Roman_, and not of _Gothic_ architecture, that paintings produce the most harmonious effect. This college and church form a n.o.ble establishment, situated in one of the most commanding eminences of the town. From some parts of it, the flying b.u.t.tresses of the nave of the Abbey of St. Ouen, with the Seine at a short distance, surmounted by the hills and woods of Canteleu as a back ground, are seen in the most gloriously picturesque manner.

But the printer who does the most business--or rather whose business lies in the lower department of the art, in bringing forth what are called _chap books_--is LECRENE-LABBEY--_imprimeur-libraire et marchand de papiers_. The very t.i.tle imports a sort of _Dan Newberry's_ repository. I believe however that Lecrene-Labbey's business is much diminished. He once lived in the _Rue de la Grosse-Horloge_, No. 12: but at present carries on trade in one of the out-skirting streets of the town. I was told that the premises he now occupies were once an old church or monastery, and that a thousand fluttering sheets are now suspended, where formerly was seen the solemn procession of silken banners, with religious emblems, emblazoned in colours of all hues. I called at the old shop, and supplied myself with a dingy copy of the _Catalogue de la Bibliotheque Bleue_--from which catalogue however I could purchase but little; as the greater part of the old books, several of the _Caxtonian stamp_, had taken their departures. It was from this Catalogue that I learnt the precise character of the works destined for common reading; and from hence inferred, what I stated to you a little time ago, that _Romances, Rondelays_, and chivalrous stories, are yet read with pleasure by the good people of France. It is, in short, from this lower, or _lowest_ species of literature--if it must be so designated--that we gather the real genius, or mental character of the ordinary cla.s.ses of society. I do a.s.sure you that some of these _chap_ publications are singularly droll and curious. Even the very rudiments of learning, or the mere alphabet-book, meets the eye in a very imposing manner--as in the following facsimile.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

_Love, Marriage_, and _Confession_, are fertile themes in these little farthing chap books. Yonder sits a fille de chambre, after her work is done. She is intent upon some little manual, taken from the _Bibliotheque Bleue_. Approach her, and ask her for a sight of it. She smiles, and readily shews you _Catechisme a l'usage des Grandes Filles pour etre Mariees; ensemble la maniere d'attirer les Amans_. At the first glance of it, you suppose that this is entirely, from beginning to end, a wild and probably somewhat indecorous manual of instruction. By no means; for read the _Litanies_ and _Prayer_ with which it concludes, and which I here send; admitting that they exhibit a strange mixture of the simple and the serious.

LITANIES.

_Pour toutes les Filles qui desirent entrer en menage_.

_Kyrie,_ je voudrois, _Christe_, etre mariee.

_Kyrie_, je prie tous les Saints, _Christe_, que ce soin demain.

_Sainte Marie_, tout le Monde se marie.

_Saint Joseph_, que vous ai-je fait?

_Saint Nicolas_, ne m'oubliez pas.

_Saint Mederie_, que j'aie un bon mari.

_Saint Matthieu_, qu'il craigne Dieu.

_Saint Jean_, qu'il m'aime tendrement.

_Saint Bruno_, qu'il soit juli & beau.

_Saint Francois_, qu'il me soit fidele.

_Saint Andre_, qu'il soit a mon gre.

_Saint Didier_, qu'il aime a travailler.

_Saint Honore_, qu'il n'aime pas a jouer.

_Saint Severin_, qu'il n'aime pas le vin.

_Saint Clement_, qu'il soit diligent.

_Saint Sauveur_, qu'il ait bon coeur.

_Saint Nicaise_, que je sois a mon aise.

_Saint Josse_, qu'il me donne un carrosse.

_Saint Boniface_, que mon mariage se fa.s.se, _Saint Augustin_, des demain matin.

ORAISON.

Seigneur, qui avez forme Adam de la terre, et qui lui avez donne Eve pour sa compagne; envoyez-moi, s'il vous plait, un bon mari pour compagnon, non pour la volupte, mais pour vous honorer & avoir des enfants qui vous benissent. Ainsi soit il.

Among the books of this cla.s.s, before alluded to, I purchased a singularly amusing little manual called "_La Confession de la Bonne Femme_." It is really not divested of merit. Whether however it may not have been written during the Revolution, with a view to ridicule the practice of auricular confession which yet obtains throughout France, I cannot take upon me to p.r.o.nounce; but there are undoubtedly some portions of it which seem so obviously to satirise this practice, that one can hardly help drawing a conclusion in the affirmative. On the other hand it may perhaps be inferred, with greater probability, that it is intended to shew with what extreme facility a system of _self-deception_ may be maintained.[75]

Referring however to the little manual in question, among the various choice morceaus which it contains, take the following extracts: exemplificatory of a woman's _evading the main points of confession_.

_Confesseur_. Ne voulez vous pas me repondre; en un mot, combien y a-t-il de temps que vous ne vous etes confessee?

_La Penitente._ Il y a un mois tout juste, car c'etoit le quatrieme jour du mois pa.s.se, & nous sommes au cinquieme du mois courant; or comptez, mon pere, & vous trouverez justement que ...

C. C'est a.s.sez, ne parlez point tant, & dites moi en peu de mots vos peches.

_Elle raconte les peches d'autrui._

_La Penitente_. J'ai un enfant qui est le plus mechant garcon que vous ayez jamais vu: il jure, bat sa soeur, il fuit l'ecole, derobe tout ce qu'il peut pour jouer; il suit de mechans fripons: l'autre jour en courant il perdit son chapeau. Enfin, c'est un mechant garcon, je veux vous l'amener afin que vous me l'endoctriniez un peu s'il vous plait.

C. Dites-moi vos peches.

P. Mais, mon pere, j'ai une fille qui est encore pire. Je ne la peux faire lever le matin: Je l'appelle cent fois: _Marguerite: plait-il ma Mere? leve-toi promptement et descends: j'y vais_. Elle ne bouge pas.

_Si tu ne viens maintenant, tu seras battue._ Elle s'en moque. Quand je l'envoie a la Ville, je lui dis _reviens promptement, ne t'amuse pas_. Cependant, elle s'arrete a toutes les portes comme l'ane d'un meunier, elle babille avec tous ceux qu'elle rencontre; & quand elle me fait cela, je la bats: ne fais-je pas bien, mon pere?

C. Dites-moi _vos_ peches et non pas ceux de _vos enfans_.

P. Il se trouve, mon pere, que nous avons dans notre rue une voisine qui est la plus mechante de toutes les femmes: elle jure, elle querelle tous ceux qui pa.s.sent, personne ne la peut souffrir, ni son mari, ni ses enfans, & bien souvent elle s'enivre, & vous me dites, mon pere, quelle est celle-la? c'est ...

C. Ah gardez-vous bien de la nommer; car a la confession il ne faut jamais fair connoitre les personnes dont vous declarez les peches.

P. C'est elle qui vient se confesser apres moi: grondez-la bien, car vous ne lui en sauriez trop dire.

C. Taisez-vous donc, & ne parlez que de _vos_ peches, non pas de ceux _des autres_.

_Elle s'accuse de ce qui n'est point peche._

_Penitente_.--Ah! mon pere, j'ai fait un grand peche, ah! le grand peche! Helas je serai d.a.m.nee, quoique mon confesseur m'ait defendu de le dire j'amais, neanmoins mon pere je vais vous le declarer.

C. Ne le dites point, puisque votre confesseur vous l'a defendu, je ne veux point l'entendre.

P. Ah! n'importe; je veux vous le dire, c'est un trop grand peche: J'ai battu ma mere.

C. Vous avez battu votre mere! Ah! miserable, c'est un cas reserve & un crime qui merite la potence. Et quand l'avez-vous battue?

P. Quand j'etois pet.i.te de l'age de quatre ans.

C. Ah! simple, ne savez-vous pas que tout ce que les enfans font avant l'age de raison, qui est environ l'age de sept ans, ne sauroit etre un peche.

There is however one thing, which I must frankly declare to you as ent.i.tled to distinct notice and especial commendation. It is, the method of teaching "catechisms" of a different and higher order: I mean the CHURCH CATECHISMS.

Both the Cathedral and the Abbey of St. Ouen have numerous side chapels.

Within these side chapels are collected, on stated days of the week, the young of both s.e.xes. They are arranged in a circle. A priest, in his white robes, is seated, or stands, in the centre of them. He examines, questions, corrects, or commends, as the opportunity calls for it. His manner is winning and persuasive. His action is admirable. The lads shew him great respect, and are rarely rude, or seen to laugh. Those who answer well, and pay the greater attention, receive, with words of commendation, gentle pats upon the head--and I could not but consider the blush, with which this mark of favour was usually received, as so many presages of future excellence in the youth. I once witnessed a most determined catechetical lecture of girls; who might be called, in the language of their matrimonial catechism, "de grandes filles." It was on an evening, in the Chapel of Our Lady in St.

Ouen's Abbey, that this examination took place. Two elderly priests attended. The responses of the females were as quick as they were correct; the eye being always invariably fixed on the pavement, accompanied with a gravity and even piety of expression. A large group of mothers, with numerous spectators, were in attendance. A question was put, to which a supposed incorrect response was given. It was repeated, and the same answer followed. The priest hesitated: something like vexation was kindling in his cheek, while the utmost calmness and confidence seemed to mark the countenance of the examinant. The attendant mothers were struck with surprise. A silence for one minute ensued. The question related to the "Holy Spirit." The priest gently approached the girl, and softly articulated--"Mais, ma chere considerez un peu,"--and repeated the question. "Mon pere, (yet more softly, rejoined the pupil) j'ai bien consideree, et je crois que c'est comme je vous l'ai deja dit." The Priest crossed his hands upon his breast ... brought down his eyebrows in a thoughtful mood ... and turning quickly round to the girl, addressed her in the most affectionate tone of voice--"Ma pet.i.te,--tu as bien dit; et j'avois tort." The conduct of the girl was admirable: She curtsied, blushed... and with eyes, from which tears seemed ready to start, surveyed the circle of spectators ... caught the approving glance of her mother, and sunk triumphantly upon her chair--with the united admiration of teachers, companions, parents and spectators! The whole was conducted with the most perfect propriety; and the pastors did not withdraw till they were fairly exhausted. A love of truth obliges me to confess that this reciprocity of zeal, on the part of master and pupil, is equally creditable to both parties; and especially serviceable to the cause of religion and morality.

Let me here make honourable mention of the kind offices of _Monsieur Longchamp_, who volunteered his friendly services in walking over half the town with me, to shew me what he justly considered as the most worthy of observation. It is impossible for a generous mind to refuse its testimony to the ever prompt kindness of a well-bred Frenchman, in rendering you all the services in his power. Enquire the way,--and you have not only a finger quickly pointing to it, but the owner of the finger must also put himself in motion to accompany you a short distance upon the route, and that too uncovered! "Mais, Monsieur, mettez votre chapeau ... je vous en prie ...

mille pardons." "Monsieur ne dites pas un seul mot ... pour mon chapeau, qu'il reste a son aise."