A MONTH AT VICHY.

"WHERE shall we go this autumn ?" we hear some hypochondriacal head of a family say; "I am tired of Baden. Homburg did me no good. The emperor has given up his intended visit to the Eaux Bonnes and Bagnerre. Aix-la-Chapelle and Spa are gone by !" "Try Vichy," we answer; "the efficacy of its waters, the picturesque and sanitary advantages of the site, and its resources as a water-drinking and bathing-place, are far from generally known in this country, and are still less generally appreciated."

Vichy and its neighbourhood constitute a real basin of mineral waters. There are at Vichy itself no less than seven different springs-all effervescing with an excess of carbonic acid, all more or less thermal and alkaline, and all more or less ferruginous and tonic at the same time. The medical qualities of these springs vary much with one another, but they are all exceedingly comprehensive. They contain an average of from 4 to 5 grains (4.9814 to 5·3240) of carbonate of soda to the quart, besides smaller proportions of carbonates of lime and magnesia, some common salt and sulphate of soda, and sufficient iron to tone down the whole. Hence the importance of these waters, more especially the spring of the Celestins, to the dyspeptic, the rheumatic, the gouty, and the calculous. Let such by all means try the waters of Auvergne, if only for one season. They will not repent the experiment.

A pleasanter spot than Vichy can scarcely be imagined. The town itself is, like Boulogne, composed of two distinct parts: one with great old houses and narrow, irregular streets, its long dark roofs overtopped by an old feudal tower: the other, of modern construction, light and airy, with straight, wide streets, handsome and commodious public edifices, and hotels that rival in convenience and splendour the best in the valley of the Rhine, the whole backed by a handsome park, a gift of Napoleon, made from the backwoods of Lithuania. Vichy stands on the banks of the river Allier, a tributary to the Loire-la jolie rivière d'Allier, as Madame de Sevigné justly designated it-close to its junction with the smaller Sichon, and not far from the old town of Cusset, celebrated in the religious wars of France.

And Vichy itself, standing as it does in advance of Auvergne, its bridge being the key to the central highlands of France, is a site not void of historical importance. It was first fortified by Louis XI., Duke of Bourbon, about 1410; but of its three gates every vestige has disappeared, and of its seven towers only one remains. That one has some chance of stability, not because the tricolored flag waves from its summit, but because it supports the municipal clock. Vichy was besieged by Charles VII. in 1440, during the civil wars called De la Praguerie, because the then prevalent heresy was an offset of the Hussite movement at Prague. Considering discretion the better part of valour, the Vichites surrendered without striking a blow, only bargaining that they should neither be pillaged nor murdered. The town was destined to suffer again from religious dissensions. In 1568 the Protestants took the city, and broke down the bridge on their way to the plains of Cognac, renowned for stronger waters than those of Vichy, and where they

administered a signal drubbing to their Roman Catholic brethren. The Prince Palatine, going to the help of the Protestants in 1576, also took possession of this pass on the Allier, and Vichy had to undergo a real siege, and suffer from a positive cannonade, when recaptured by the Grand Prior of France in 1590. Such are the chief events of its history, and they are quite sufficient, with the local interest of its convent, to invest the place with claims to respect from the contemplative valetudinarian.

The convent or monastery of Celestins here alluded to was founded by Louis XI. in 1410, who, it is supposed, intended to retire to this his favourite spot. As it enjoyed the privileges of an inviolable place of refuge, all the rich and noble families of the neighbourhood, as the Bourbons Carencey, the Lafayettes, and others, sought a last home within its walls. The monks had also the monopoly of the waters, and as they gave shelter to invalided clergy and abbots, they soon became immensely rich, which exposed them to the perilous honours of an occasional sacking; but still the place flourished under monkish patronage till the year 1774, when Louis XV. suppressed the convent, of which there now only remains a few insignificant fragments: the last of the Celestins is said to have died in 1802. A billiard-room and saloon now occupy a portion of the site. There was also a convent of Capuchins, who tendered to the infirmities of their brethren, and the remains of their monastery are now used as the bottling department. The other relics

in old Vichy are the Fontaine des Trois Cornets, which bears the date of 1583, and presents to the eye a triangular column of exquisite lightness, terminated by a cross, well browned by the lapse of ages; the church of Saint Blaise, adorned with curious paintings, chef d'œuvres of some genius, appreciated apparently by the good people of Vichy, but incomprehensible to the rest of the world. Within the old town are also shown the rooms tenanted by Madame de Sevigné, and by Fléchier, the panegyrist of Turenne, who wrote of Vichy:

Je n'estimerais pas un chou,
Le paysage de Saint-Cloud,
Non plus que celui de Surène,
Arrosé des eaux de la Seine;
Et qui vante Montmorenci,
Se tairait s'il eût vu ceci.

The comparison of Saint-Cloud to a cabbage is not very dignified; but something must be allowed, as has been done to Gallic poets of greater renown than Fléchier, for the necessities of rhyme. Madame de Sevigné, writing to her daughter, Madame de Grignau, after extolling the beauties of the place, says: "I took the waters this morning, dearest-oh! are they not bad? People go at six in the morning to the fountain; everybody goes there. They drink away, and make wry faces; for you must know that they are boiling hot, and have a most disagreeable taste of saltpetre. Then they turn, and go and come, and attend mass on rend ses eaux, on parle confidentiellement de la manière dont on les rend. This is the only subject of conversation till mid-day. Then they dine; after dinner somebody receives-to-day it was my turn. Young ladies of the place come, who dance la bourrée in perfection. The gipseys also put forward their claims to admiration. They go through certain manœuvres (dégognades), which the priests declare to be objectionable. At

five o'clock all go and walk in this delicious country, at seven a light supper, and at ten to bed."

Madame de Sevigné admired the bourrées, or dances of the country, In another letter she wrote: "There are very pretty women very much. here; they danced yesterday the bourrées of the country, which are the prettiest in the world. There was one great fellow disguised as a woman, who amused me much, for his petticoats were always up, displaying his great legs." It is to be supposed that manners have improved in New Vichy which did not exist at that time. The use of the douche has no doubt, at the same time, increased, as extreme hydropathic measures are the passion of the day. Madame de Sevigné tried the douche in her time, and declared it to be "a pretty good rehearsal of purgatory."

In 1787, Mesdames Adélaïde and Victoire de France, having repaired to Vichy for the benefit of their health, many ameliorations in the edifices connected with the baths, and in the general arrangements, took place. Napoleon added the park, but the Duchess of Angoulême laid the first stone of the existing establishment, which was erected chiefly through her exertions. In 1821, Madame Adélaïde d'Orleans, sister of Louis Philippe, purchased the neighbouring chateau of Randan, and erected the little feudal hunting-box of Maumont for her nephews, the Prince de Joinville and the Duke of Montpensier, the latter of whom inherited the property, which passed with the Revolution into the hands of a public commissary. Lastly, in 1846, M. Cunin Gridaine, at that time Minister of Commerce, and one of the most regular frequenters of Vichy, added considerably to the capabilities of the place, which he at once enlarged and embellished, and at the same time brought it more closely under the control of government.

It

There are now five first-rate hotels, the prices at which, for the day's board and lodging, vary from eight to twelve francs, to which must be added ten sous for attendance. There is one hotel (Montaret) at from eight to ten francs; another (Burnol) at from six to eight. There are two at the fixed price of six francs per diem, and nine at five francs. would be thought that this was plenty of accommodation, but it is far from sufficing for the hosts that rush to a spot as much frequented for recreation as for health during the height of the season. At such times it is often difficult to obtain a bed, and as difficult to get a bath. There are, however, plenty of lodging-houses in both the old and the new town. La Rue des Thermes is the select street. A lodger is admitted to the honours of the table d'hôte and the saloon till successive departures shall have conferred upon him the rights and privileges of a regular member of the culinary establishment.

These

The stranger is expected, on arriving at Vichy, to visit Dr. Prunelle, the inspector of the waters, or Dr. Petit, assistant inspector. official disciples of Galen are, as is generally the case, at utter variance with one another, but that, as far as we can gather, upon only one point. Both agree as to the efficacy of the Celestin source in cases of gout, and in calculous disorders, but Dr. Petit also insists upon the waters being of use in articular gout, even if hereditary. Considering the alkaline character of the said waters, there is reason to believe that Dr. Petit is in the right. He is also considered as the most scientific of the two. Be

this as it may, so great is the acrimony of the gouty question, that according as the visitor places himself under one banner, he may expect a proportionate amount of hostility from the followers of the other. Luckily all are not gouty patients at Vichy, as the perpetual succession of music and dancing will soon attest to the most determined hypochondriac.

An order for the baths having been duly obtained from one of these rival doctors, the stranger repairs to the grand établissement thermal, as it is called, where he is introduced, at the bottom of the corridor, to a fat and fresh-looking personage, with a happy physiognomy, whose words are listened to by candidates for bathing as if pronounced by the Delphic oracle. This is the chief bather, the amiable Mr. Prin, who after having inscribed in a register your name, surname, and qualities, announces with great regret that all the baths are preoccupied, but that in a few days your turn to have one at the hour you may wish for will inevitably come round. In the mean time you are reduced to the necessity of taking advantage of want of punctuality on the part of some titled bathers, or to get up some time before daylight-for at Vichy, phantoms light as sylphs are seen in the mysterious alleys of the parks wending their way to the baths at the very first break of day. Others repair to the springs, and the crowd of old and young men, of women and girls, some pale and sicklylooking, who go, tumbler in hand, from one spring to another, drinking every quarter of an hour the quantity that is prescribed for them, presents a curious spectacle. A lively Frenchman remarked that it would be a little more encouraging to the bibulous visitors if the dispensers of fluids, the naiads of the spot, were metamorphosed from ugly old women, as they really are, into young and fresh Bourbonaises, whose coquettish hats are their least ornament.

At ten o'clock precisely breakfast is proclaimed by the bells of all the hotels, whose deafening peal is far from being as harmonious as those rung by the churches of Liege or of Malines. The appetite, sharpened by the waters, the morning air, and a long walk, this signal is generally anxiously waited for, and every one takes his place at the immense table d'hôtes with military precision, the rule being, as elsewhere, that the last comer occupies the end of the table. If little is said, so much the more is eaten often, indeed, a little more than is prescribed by the doctors.

After breakfast, the habitué fait une demi toilette, and then adjourns to the saloon of the hotel, where ladies, politicians, and the infirm, assemble together to read the newspapers, talk of the weather, or of one another. The dealers in lace from Clermont and Puy de Dome also pay diurnal visits, and afford a subject for conversation to the ladies. There are tables for Wisth and Boston, and above all there is music. At Vichy there are pianos every where, and perpetual concerts. Violins, flute, keybugles, pianos, and voices are always at work, and many are driven away by the din to the billiard-room or the park.

But there are other matutinal resources at Vichy, and there are picturesque excursions, which are accomplished by means of carriages which never fail to be in attendance after breakfast, and still more commonly by means of the modest steed of Balaam, which is kept in great order, and is in great requisition at Vichy.

At five o'clock the dinner-bell collects together the scattered popula

tion as if by enchantment, and many bring from Randan, Busset, or Effiat, appetites that would throw the purveyors into despair, if it was not that they were accustomed to these daily razzias.

After dinner another petite toilette is made, followed by a walk in the park, and a cigar. This park is a true French garden, with straight walks and a central basin, and chairs are placed under the shady avenues as in the Tuileries. The crowd, among whom are to be observed groups from perfidious Albion, a few Spaniards, and an occasional Russian, is chiefly composed of French provincials, with a sprinkling of Parisianselegantes et lions, as the latter designate themselves-and after walking, talking, and sitting till darkness comes on, they go away to another toilette previous to the ball, which takes place Sundays and Thursdays at the grand établissement. On other days, the band of the Strauss of Vichy plays from eight to ten o'clock. This from the 1st of June to the 1st of September. There are also frequent subscription balls given at the hotels.

The so-called grand établissement thermal, it is but just to say, is worthy of the renown and the prosperity of Vichy. The bathing cabinets, decorated with tiles of painted porcelain, and adorned with mirrors, are alike clean, comfortable, and ornamental. There is a façade of seventeen arches, crowned with a monumental clock, an immense corridor, billiard-room, reading and card-rooms, and a vast rotunda, which is used as the concert and ball-room. Needless to say that all this magnificence and all this luxury would still be dull and inanimate if the baton of Strauss of Vichy did not, like that of his namesake on the Danube, and of Jullien on the Thames, impart to it movement and life.

One of the most frequented and most agreeable walks near Vichy is that of the Côte Saint-Amaud. The lower part of the slope is clothed with vineyards, and a magnificent prospect is obtained from the crest. At Hauterive, about five miles from Vichy, there are alkaline springs, from which carbonate of soda is derived by a simple process. The road to these springs lies along the banks of the Allier, past the old Château d'Abret, to a ferry worthy only of Mohicans, and thence by a sandy shore to the village of Hauterive.

A peculiarly wild, rocky, and picturesque road leads from Saint Yon, a hamlet on the road to Nismes, to the village and Château de Busset, which, in the fourteenth century, belonged to the powerful house of Vichy, then to that of Allègre, and, lastly, to that of Bourbon Busset, one of the members of which, Peter of Bourbon, married Margaret d'Allègre. This branch of the house of Bourbon had for its originator Louis of Bourbon, son of Charles, first Duke of Bourbon, who, although Bishop of Liege, was not the less induced to take a widow of the Duke of Gueldres in marriage, which irregular proceeding was afterwards legitimatised by Louis XIII.

Randan is, however, the great gun of Vichy. To see Randan is a thing indispensable to every water-drinker who respects himself. In the language of the local table d'hôtes, to say that you have been to Vichy and not to Randan, is to say that you are a Crétin. An excursion to Randan is got up with great solemnity. To our lively neighbours even the picturesque is dull without company-so Randan is visited in crowds;