8
eCalais Thursday July 21st 1859
The moon looked down upon us most serenely last
night and the sea was calm as the rest of the
angels, yet for all that we had an anxious passage
A dense fog enveloped us in its mantle, ships
signaled us with various lights and the
police expecting us fired signal guns – We
made narrow escapes from collisions and arrived
in port after a voyage of three hours – 22 1/2 miles–
How quickly do I discover here that I am
not in England or at home– not in a free country
but in one despotically ruled– not in a Protestant
but ^in^ a Catholic land – I was marched uncontented-
ly with the crowd of passengers into the police office
where sat at two in the morning a police officer
magistrate with two secretaries, to examine and register
and visér our passports. Two or three detectives stood
around scrutinizing us to discover any Known political
offender there might be in the arrival. In my case
however the examination was ^not^ merely formal, but was
distinguished by courtesy which was due I suppose to
my official description contained in the passport.
So also at the Custom house no one put his hand
into my trunks, or asked any annoying question,

9
My hotel
was entered through
a gate opening into a
Great Court, on all sides
of which the edifice was built.
I rang my bell that morning for my
Courier as I had agreed – Instantly there
bounced in a chamber maid with hot water.
Being undressed I retreated into bed– She nothing daunted
entered the room and deposited her pitcher, and coming
directly upon me asked kindly if I wanted soap–
Calais is low almost sunken to the level of the sea
It is fortified with a citadel ^wall, ditch^ and other works due to the Cardinal
Richelieu. Statues and monuments and pictures every where preserve
the memories of its vicissitudes as a border town–The statue of the
Duke of Guise recals the fact that he rescued it from the English
after a demise of two centuries. That of Richelieu celebrates the
massive construction of its massive defences – A Church held by
the English (when in possession of the town) on a scale of great
magnificence, is a true type of the medieval architecture– An
organ of vast power – a marble alter reaching from the basement
to the dome, and adorned with statuary of worshiping saints
on earth, Ministering saints and angels and
a beautiful Lord in the Heavens exacts admiration
if not reverence. The statues of saints in every
chapel crowned with wreaths of fresh roses
seem to listen to the orisons of votaries
who human votaries who are
repeating prayers and counting
their beads before them.
Elegant women
are occasionally
seen in
the

10
shops, and an unambitious peasantry of both sexes,
are every where abroad in the streets, without any covering
of the head, but a cap– which truth to say is generally
clean– Priests in their black gowns and Sisters
of Charity in their mourning weeds are moving about
in all directions. A low mean building avails your
attention by the inscription of "The Episcopal Church
of England, over its door and directly opposite to
in the you encounter the label "Rue des Juise",
Van Dyck has given to the grand alter of the
Cathedral a Crucifixion scene– and David
has celebrated the battles which restored
Calais to France and saved it to the
Catholic Church–
I send by Mr Morgan of New York
to the care of R M. Blatchford my old
trunk filled with articles which I cannot
currently transport with me. Mr Blatchford
will send it home with the Key. You may find
things in it which are curious and will illustrate
my hurried letters.
Take down the Sentimental Journey
from the shelves and imagine as you read the chapters
on Calais my delight in finding my self a lodger in
the very chamber occupied by Sterne when they were
written.