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Consider Joseph Lebon, son of a sergeant-at-arms, subsequently, a teacher with the Oratoriens of Beaune, next, cure of Neuville-Vitasse, repudiated as an interloper by the elite of his parishioners, not respected, without house or furniture, and almost without a flock. Two years after this, finding himself sovereign of his province, his head is spinning.
"Why do you not salute gentry when they honour your pot-house? A mug of your best Beaune, Master Beggar-maker, to drink damnation to the Burgundians." Robin Turgis made no motion to obey, but his small eyes seemed to grow smaller as they stared. "What colour has money now-a-days, Master François?" he asked doggedly.
* A capital little out-of-the-way restaurant, in the neighbourhood of , where you can get one of the best-cooked and cheapest little French dinners or suppers that I know of, with an excellent bottle of Beaune, for three-and-six; and which I am not going to be idiot enough to advertise.
She opened, the door, and switched on the light, "Shall I light the fire, madame?" she demanded. Julie beamed on her. "Ah, yes; that would be jolly," she said. "And the wine, madame Beaune." The woman smiled and bowed. "Let madame but seat herself and it shall come," she said, and went out. Julie took off her hat, and walked to the glass, patting her hair. "Give me a cigarette, my dear," she said.
I know not what the good sister was reading a dull book, I am afraid but there was so much colour and such a fine, rich air of tradition about the whole place that it seemed to me I would have risked listening to her. I carried away from Beaune the impression of something mildly autumnal something rusty yet kindly, like the taste of a sweet russet pear.
"You had better make haste with the horses, Antoine, if you don't wish the postmaster to hear of it," said he, as I entered, his mouth filled with pie crust and vin de Beaune, as he spoke. A lumbering peasant, with a blouse, sabots, and a striped nightcap, replied in some unknown patois; when the courier again said
Foreigners must apply with their passports for admission at the office to the right on entering. We return on the Quay and remark the Pont du Carousel, an iron bridge of three arches of an elegant construction, it was built by a company, who have laid a toll both on foot and carriage passengers. No. 1, Rue de Beaune, on the same quay, is the hôtel where Voltaire resided, and died in 1788.
How delightful, if on the continent, to escape from the narrow limits of the dungeon-like diligence, where you sit with your knees next your collar-bone, fainting with heat and suffocated by dust, and find yourself suddenly beside the tempting "plats" of a little French dejeune, with its cutlets, its fried fish, its poulet, its salad, and its little entre of fruit, tempered with a not despicable bottle of Beaune.
There, he was put to bed and attended with every care, when he soon recovered and received the charming intelligence that he was about forty miles from his uncle's house that he had been wandering for that distance in the most beautiful part of the forest of Erveau, and that if by any chance he had deviated a little more to the right in his unpleasant steeple-chase across the woods, he would have gone, in a straight line, eighty-six miles without meeting house or cottage or human soul until he found himself at the gates of Dijon, chief town of the Côte-d'Or, where he might and would, no doubt, have been able to refresh himself with a bottle of Beaune and inspect the Gothic tombs of the great Dukes of Burgundy.
I learn from them also what I was ignorant of that Nicholas Rollin, Chancellor of Burgundy and founder of the establishment at Beaune, was the original of the worthy kneeling before the Virgin in the magnificent John van Eyck of the Salon Carré. All I could see was the court of the hospital and two or three rooms.
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