A Ride on Horseback to Florence Through France and Switzerland. Vol. 1 of 2: Described in a Series of Letters by a Lady

In Short

This book offers a vivid, first-hand account of a lady’s long-distance horseback journey across France and Switzerland in the early 1840s. Beyond the immediate trials of the road—ranging from difficult inns and temperamental mounts to sudden, dramatic weather—the author weaves in extensive narratives of the historical figures and legends associated with the towns she passes. By balancing the grit of contemporary travel with a scholarly passion for the past, the work serves as both a practical guide and a romantic record of a vanishing way of traversing the European landscape.

The Story

The narrative begins at the port of Calais, where the immediate necessities of travel—customs formalities and the care of horses—set the tone for a journey defined by the horse’s pace. As the traveler moves southward through St. Omer and Amiens, the path is punctuated by encounters with local peculiarities, such as church decorations that blend the sacred with the absurd, and the inevitable frustrations of substandard accommodations.

However, the physical journey acts only as a scaffold for the author’s true preoccupation: the ghost-filled history of the French provinces. Each stop becomes an occasion to recount the tragedies and triumphs of earlier eras. She dwells on the political intrigue surrounding the Duke of Montmorency, whose execution under Richelieu remains a central, haunting memory of the region. The narrative moves through the landscapes of Clermont and Creil, reaching toward Mâcon and Lyon, where the traveler witnesses the stark contrast between the beauty of public festivities, like fireworks over the Saône, and the sudden, sobering reality of accidents and civil unrest.

As the journey crosses into the alpine beauty of Switzerland, the tone shifts toward the sublime. The author lingers over the history of the Holy Shroud, the legacy of Voltaire at Ferney, and the ancient, feudal disputes that shaped the borderlands of Savoy. She details the dramatic thunderstorms over the Jura mountains and the rosy hues of Mont Blanc, juxtaposed against the ruins of medieval fortresses. The narrative reaches the end of its first volume in Bonneville, having successfully navigated the challenges of the road while amassing a rich repository of local lore. It concludes not with a final destination reached, but with the traveler still in motion, deeply embedded in the history and geography of the continent, looking toward the continued miles that separate her from the ultimate goal of Florence.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The journey opens on the French coast, where the author establishes the practical realities of travel and her reliance on her horse, Fanny. She quickly establishes a pattern of alternating between the immediate irritations of poor inns and the awe inspired by Gothic cathedrals.

Historical immersion As she travels deeper into the interior, the author transitions into a chronicler of regional history, exploring the lives of figures like Hernand Teillo and the Duke of Montmorency. These digressions transform the route from a simple transit into a tour through the violent and romantic past of France.

The shift to the Alps The narrative crosses into Switzerland, where the focus shifts toward the dramatic geography of the mountains and the religious relics of the region. The author balances her descriptions of the natural splendor of the Jura range with the somber stories of martyrs and saints.

A portrait of place The volume concludes in the shadow of the mountains at Bonneville, capturing the final, lingering moments of the first leg of the trip. The transition from the flatlands of France to the Alpine heights leaves the reader with a sense of both the physical distance covered and the accumulation of knowledge gained along the way.

The People

The author acts as the primary observer, a figure defined by her intellectual curiosity and her resilience in the face of "dirty floors" and "sulky servants." She is accompanied by a companion, often identified as "D——," whose interactions with local figures—such as the military acquaintances in Lyon—provide a social dimension to the trip.

The historical figures she describes are given equal weight to the living. The Duke of Montmorency emerges as a tragic, noble protagonist whose struggle against the machinations of Richelieu serves as a cautionary tale of power and loyalty. Voltaire appears as a man of vanity and intellect, his château at Ferney serving as a museum of his personality. Meanwhile, the local inhabitants—from the "gruff Suisse" at a cathedral to the innkeepers and soldiers—are rendered with sharp, often unforgiving detail. Each of these figures, whether historical or contemporary, is a lens through which the author examines the character of the regions she traverses.

In Its Own Voice

“I will not change my horse for any that treads but on four pasterns: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it.”

The author uses this Shakespearean epigraph at the outset to express the deep affection and pride she feels for her mount, Fanny.

“On the left, in a hole sunk in the wall, framed and lined with room-paper, except on festivals screened from profane eyes by little pink calico curtains, is a gilded bust of St. Bertin, adorned with steel court buttons.”

This description captures the author’s eye for the incongruous and often bizarre details of church decorations she encounters during her tour.

What It's Really About

The work is a meditation on the intersection of the individual and the weight of history. The author argues that a place is never merely its current state—an inn, a road, or a town—but is fundamentally composed of the layers of human drama that have occurred there. She explores the tension between the transient nature of a traveler’s experience and the permanent, often bloody, records of the past. It asks how one can truly "see" a country when the landscape is so densely populated with the memories of those who fought, prayed, and died there long before the traveler arrived.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, deliberate pace of nineteenth-century travel literature will find this book deeply rewarding. It offers a rare, ground-level view of a Europe that was on the cusp of significant change, captured by a writer who possesses both a sharp wit and a profound sense of wonder. The reading experience is immersive, alternating between the frustration of a bad meal and the sublime beauty of an alpine sunset.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the author’s period-specific attitudes and the occasional density of her historical anecdotes. The prose is unhurried, reflecting a world before the pressures of modern, rapid transit, and it rewards those who are willing to linger over the details. You will stay with the book for its honesty—the author does not hide her irritation when things go wrong, nor does she shy away from the darker elements of the history she uncovers. It is a work for anyone who believes that the journey is as much about the mind’s exploration of the past as it is about the body’s movement through space.