between this town and Havre, in the vicinity of Fecamp;
and they present an unbroken barrier, of a dazzling
white[1], except when they dip into some creek or
cove, or open to afford a passage to some river or
streamlet. Into one of these, a boat from the
opposite shores of Sussex shot past us this afternoon,
with the rapidity of lightning. She was a smuggler,
and, in spite of the army of Douaniers employed in
France, ventured to make the land in the broad face
of day, carrying most probably a cargo, composed principally
of manufactured goods in cotton and steel. The
crew of our vessel, no bad authority in such cases,
assured us, that lace is also sent in considerable
quantities as a contraband article into France; though,
as is well known, much of it likewise comes in the
same quality into England, and there are perhaps few
of our travellers, who return entirely without it.
On the same authority, I am enabled to state, what
much surprised me, that the smuggled goods exported
from Sussex into Normandy exceed by nearly an hundred
fold those received in return.
The first approach to Dieppe is extremely striking.
To embark in the evening at Brighton, sleep soundly
in the packet, and find yourself, as is commonly the
case, early the next morning under the piers of this
town, is a transition, which, to a person unused to
foreign countries, can scarcely fail to appear otherwise
than as a dream; so marked and so entire is the difference
between the air of elegance and mutual resemblance
in the buildings, of smartness approaching to splendor
in the equipages, of fashion in the costume, of the
activity of commerce in the movements, and of newness
and neatness in every part of the one, contrasted
in the other with a strong character of poverty and
neglect, with houses as various in their structure
as in their materials, with dresses equally dissimilar
in point of color, substance, and style, with carriages
which seem never to have known the spirit of improvement,
and with a general listlessness of manner, the result
of indolence, apathy, and want of occupation.
With all this, however, the novelty which attends
the entrance of the harbor at Dieppe, is not only striking,
but interesting. It is not thus at Calais, where
half the individuals you meet in the streets are of
your own country; where English fashions and manufactures
are commonly adopted; and where you hear your native
tongue, not only in the hotels, but even the very beggars
follow you with, “I say, give me un sou, s’il
vous please.” But this is not the only
advantage which the road by Dieppe from London to Paris
possesses, over that by Calais. There is a saving
of distance, amounting to twenty miles on the English,
and sixty on the French side of the water; the expence
is still farther decreased by the yet lower rate of
charges at the inns; and, while the ride to the French
metropolis by the one route is through a most uninteresting
country, with no other objects of curiosity than Amiens,