A Visit to the Monastery of La Trappe in 1817: With Notes Taken During a Tour Through Le Perche, Normandy, Bretagne, Poitou, Anjou, Le Bocage, Touraine, Orleanois, and the Environs of Paris

In Short

This book serves as a travelogue of a journey through various French provinces in 1817, with a specific focus on the austere monastery of La Trappe. Written as a series of personal notes, the narrative blends evocative descriptions of the French countryside with reflections on the lingering social and physical aftermath of the Revolution. Its enduring value lies in the author's ability to record, with quiet intensity, the atmosphere of a nation oscillating between its royalist past and a tumultuous, modernizing present, making it a vivid window into a vanished era.

The Story

The journey begins with a departure from the conventional, as the author sets out to traverse regions such as Le Perche, Brittany, and the environs of Paris. The narrative arc is anchored by the visit to the Abbaye de la Trappe, a place the author describes with profound awe. He navigates the difficult, overgrown paths of the forest to reach the monastery, where the silence and rigid discipline of the monks offer a stark contrast to the outside world. He details their extreme asceticism, from their spartan cells—furnished only with a bed of boards and a human skull—to their absolute vow of silence, which leaves even the members of the community strangers to one another.

Leaving the solemnity of La Trappe, the author moves through towns like Mortagne and Nantes, shifting his focus from spiritual austerity to the remnants of political conflict. He explores the Vendean region, documenting the "singular and heroic warfare" that defined its history. He reflects on the ruins of castles and the scars left by the Revolution, noting the resilience of the local people who, while often "desolé" by the destruction, maintain a philosophy of consolation and cheerfulness.

As the journey continues toward Paris, the narrative broadens to include historical anecdotes, such as the imprisonment of King Ferdinand VII at Valençay and the tragic death of Captain John Wesley Wright in a Parisian prison. The author’s eye for detail captures everything from the elegant assembly of high society in Mortagne to the humble, poetic garden of a village priest. The travelogue concludes in the outskirts of Paris, visiting cemeteries and historic fortresses like Vincennes and Saint Germain. Throughout these encounters, the author remains a thoughtful observer, concluding that the journey—marked by both the "grand and terrible" and the "soft and playful"—was a deeply meaningful experience. He ends by inviting the reader to reflect on the nature of history and the brevity of life, leaving his notes as a simple, candid record of his travels.

How It Unfolds

The arrival at the cloister The author navigates the dark, labyrinthine forests of Le Perche to find the venerable abbey. The initial view of the monastery, nestled in a valley of lakes, fills him with an overwhelming sense of religious awe and isolation.

The life of the Trappists He provides a granular look at the monks' daily routines, highlighting the total rejection of self-identity and the extreme physical privations of their order. He observes the strict adherence to their rules, which he views as a fascinating yet "horrible" perversion of human nature.

The landscape of conflict Traveling through the Vendée, he shifts his attention to the brutal history of the Vendean war and the sites of local tragedies. He describes the dense, hedge-lined paths of Le Bocage, explaining how the topography once facilitated a unique and lethal form of guerrilla warfare.

The cultural tapestry The narrative moves into the cities of Brittany and the Loire valley, contrasting the modern commercial state of towns like Nantes with their rich historical legacies. He weaves in stories of famous figures, including the ill-fated lovers Abélard and Héloïse, to ground the geography in literary and romantic tradition.

The final approach to Paris The tour concludes in the environs of the capital, where he visits tombs, royal châteaus, and the quiet homes of local curés. The final entries meditate on the transience of life, framed by the contrast between the beauty of the French countryside and the violence of its past.

The People

The author, W. D. Fellowes, serves as the primary lens, a man of "common understanding" who seeks to record his observations without pretense or literary artifice. He is characterized by a respectful curiosity, finding wonder in both the grand monuments of the past and the simple lives of those he meets.

Frère Charle, a monk at La Trappe, represents the self-abnegation central to the book’s themes. Despite his extreme austerity, he treats the author with "unaffected hospitality," displaying the manners of a well-bred gentleman even while bound by a vow that severs him from his past.

The various French citizens the author encounters, such as the Sub-Prefect Monsieur Lamorelie and Madame de Bellou in Mortagne, embody the social elegance and resilience of the post-revolutionary era. They represent a class that navigates the aftermath of political upheaval with a characteristic "constitutional cheerfulness."

Historical figures like M. de Rancé, the founder of the Trappist reform, and the ill-fated King Ferdinand VII haunt the narrative as symbols of the tensions between religious fanaticism and political power. The author also touches on the lives of common people caught in the machinery of history, such as the Vendean peasants whose internal wars led to profound, intimate tragedies, and the young student Villemain, whose suicide note serves as a cautionary tale about the influence of radical philosophy on the impressionable young.

In Its Own Voice

The total solitude--the undisturbed and chilling silence, which seem to have ever slept over the dark and ancient woods--the still lakes, reflecting the deep solemnity of the objects around them--all impress a powerful image of utter seclusion and hopeless separation from living man.

The author describes the profound, almost overwhelming atmosphere he encounters upon reaching the secluded Abbey of La Trappe.

I have now no other but that which was bestowed on me when I took the vow, which severs me from the world for ever!

Frère Charle explains to the author why he cannot provide his original name, emphasizing the total erasure of his past life.

It is, nevertheless, melancholy to observe the traces of devastation visible in all directions: the people themselves appear not to regard it, but this may arise partly from the long and habitual feelings generated by the scenes to which the Revolution daily gave rise.

The author observes the contrast between the physical scars of the Revolution in the French countryside and the stoic, almost resigned attitude of the locals.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the human impulse to retreat from—or endure—the chaos of a changing world. Through the lens of the Trappist monks, the author asks whether extreme penance and total withdrawal are the only responses to a world defined by "noise and tempests." Simultaneously, his journey through the battlefields of the Vendée investigates the durability of national identity and the psychological cost of civil war. The book grapples with the tension between the desire for eternal truth and the reality of human transience, ultimately suggesting that while political structures and buildings may fall, the human spirit continues to seek meaning in both faith and the simple, fleeting pleasures of life.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy historical travelogues or have an interest in the aftermath of the French Revolution will find this an invaluable primary source. It provides a rare, grounded perspective on 19th-century France that feels remarkably immediate; the author’s prose is direct and unadorned, avoiding the flowery excesses often found in the period’s writing. You will feel as if you are traveling alongside him—experiencing the stifling heat of the French roads, the damp chill of the monastery, and the polite, elegant manners of the local gentry.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the author’s 19th-century sensibilities. His commentary on "diseased imaginations" or his occasional moralizing about the "pernicious effects" of Enlightenment thinkers like Voltaire reflect the specific biases of his time. Furthermore, the book is a product of its era in terms of pacing; it does not follow a modern narrative structure but instead unfolds as a series of observations that reward a patient reader. It is not a fast-paced adventure, but rather a reflective, immersive experience. What stays with you long after the final page is the quiet dignity of the people he describes and the haunting, timeless beauty of a country still learning how to heal after decades of upheaval.