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Matilda Betham-Edwards - Holidays in Eastern France
Whereupon I ventured to rejoin that, at least if we robbed our French neighbours of their best fruit, our
money found its way into the grower's pocket. Of course these large purchases in country places make
home produce dearer for the inhabitants; but as the English agents pay a higher price than others, the
peasants and farmers hail their appearance with delight. The fruit has to ripen on its way, and to enjoy a
green-gage, or melon, to the full, we must taste it here. In the autumn the fine pears imported to Covent
Garden from these villages sometimes fetch nine sous, four-pence halfpenny each, this being the
whole-sale price. No wonder that in retail we have to pay so much.
The cure in question makes a good deal by his bees, and the honey of these parts is first-rate. On the
whole, small as is their pay, these parish priests cannot be badly off, seeing that they get extra money by
their garden produce, and largely, also, by baptismal and other church fees. Then of course it must be
remembered that nothing is expected of them in the way of charity, as is the case with our clergy.
"Nous recevons toujours, nous ne donnons jamais," was the reply of a French bishop on being asked an
alms by some benevolent lady for a protege.
Scattered throughout these fertile and prosperous regions are ancient towns, some of which are reached
by separate little lines of railway, others are accessible by road only. Coulommiers is one of these, and
though there is nothing attractive about it, except a most picturesque old church and a very pretty public
walk by the winding river, it is worth making the two hours' drive across country for the sake of the
scenery. As there is no direct communication with Couilly, and no possibility of hiring a carriage at this
busy season, I gladly accepted a neighbour's offer of a seat in his "trap," a light spring-cart with capital
horse. He was a tradesman of the village, and, like the rest of the world here, wore the convenient and
cleanly blue cotton trousers and blue blouse of the country. The third spare seat was occupied by a
neighbouring notary, the two men discussing metaphysics, literature, and the origin of things, on their
way.
We started at seven o'clock in the morning, and lovely indeed looked the wide landscape in the tender
light - valley, and winding river, and wooded ridge being soon exchanged for wide open spaces covered
with corn and autumn crops. Farming here is carried on extensively, some of these rich farms numbering
several hundred acres. The farm-house and buildings, surrounded with a high stone wall, are few and far
between, and the separate crops cover much larger tracts than here. It was market-day at Coulommiers,
and we passed by many farmers and farmeresses jogging to market, the latter with their fruit and
vegetables, eggs and butter, in comfortable covered carts.
Going to market in France means, indeed, what it did with us a hundred years ago; yet the farmers and
farmers' wives looked the picture of prosperity. In some cases, fashion had so far got the better of
tradition, that the reins were handled by a smart-looking lady in hat and feathers and fashionable dress,
but for the most part by toil-embrowned homely women, with a coloured handkerchief twisted round
their heads and no pretention to gentility. The men, one and all, wore blue blouses, and were evidently
accustomed to hard work, but for all that it was easy to see that they were possessed both of means and
intelligence. Like the rest of the Briard population, they are fine fellows, tall, with regular features and
frank good-humoured countenances.
Some of these farmers and millers give enormous dowries to their daughters. A million francs is
sometimes heard of, and in our own immediate neighbourhood we heard of several rustic heiresses who
would have a hundred thousand. Many a farmer, tenant-farmer, too, who toils with his men, has,
irrespective of his earnings as a farmer, capital bringing in several thousand francs yearly; in fact, some
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