book rec: the discovery of france

[bedlamsbard]

I am rereading Graham Robb's book The Discovery of France: A Historical Geography, which is fascinating, I highly recommend it if you like that sort of thing. It's a book that's a bit hard to describe -- it's not a history book, and it's not a travel memoir, but it's not not either of those two either. In some ways I suppose it's a look at a France that no longer exists, the little pieces of untold history that have been nearly lost in the Age of Modernization. Little bits of medieval and early modern history, the pieces of the country and its people that existed in the years around the Revolution and the Second World War, but that limits it too much.

My favorite part is, of course, the smuggler dogs from the interlude. They're just so awesome.

The scene is Péronne, a fortified town on the river Somme, a few years before the Revolution. In a house on the edge of town, a small, well-trained band has gathered to make the final preparations for a long and dangerous journey. Each member of the band has a tightly packed bale strapped to his back. They know only the law of blind obedience, not the law they are about to break for the umpteenth time. The leader of the band has served an apprenticeship and is now allowed to make the journey without a load. Responsibilities, of course, are a burden in themselves. The rules of the business are few and simple, but they call for skill, experience and courage. In this respect, the little band would be the envy of a military commander. Despite the dangers that lie ahead, all the tails are wagging.

The caravan of smuggler dogs sets off to the crack of a whip while the master goes back indoors to sleep. Somewhere in the night, where Picardy meets Artois, it will cross one of the frontiers that divide France into zones of taxation. At the barriers, excise duty must be paid on almost everything that humans desire: tobacco, alcohol, leather, salt and iron. Guards patrol the borders. If smugglers are caught, men are sent to the galleys, women and children to prison. Dogs are executed on the spot.

The lead dog sniffs out the route. Human smell means dive into a ditch and stay down until the patrol has passed. Dog smell -- it could be an excise hound -- means change the route, head out across the marshes or scatter over the moor.

After several hours of excitement and delays, the expedition reaches the other village and the second part of the plan comes into operation. While the carriers lie low in cornfields and hedgerows around the village, the lead dog trots up to a house and scratches softly at the door. The man inside is not alone. Excise officers have been known to visit in the night, to sniff out the contraband and push their noses into every nook and cranny. The door opens. The dog pads across the room like the family pet and curls up in front of the fire. At last, the visitor leaves. A few more minutes pass, then the man looks out into the darkness and gives a whistle. Dogs coated with mud and briars come running in. With their last ounce of energy they leap at the man to congratulate him on another successful mission. Since the humans eat the same food as the animals, there will be a well-earned feast followed by a long and lazy day.

The smuggler dogs were not actually what I started writing this post to quote. This was, from the chapter "Travelling in France, I: The AVenues of Paris":

This is why so much of the Roman infrastructure was still in use at the dawn of the industrial age. Some Roman roads had been marked on maps since the seventeenth century, not for antiquarian interest, but because they were the best roads available. Locally, they were known as the 'camin ferrat' or 'chemin ferré' (the metalled way), the 'chausée' (the surfaced road), the 'chemin de César' or the 'chemin du Diable', since only Caesar or the Devil could have built a road that lasted so long. As the Marquis de Mirabeau observed in 1756,Roman roads had been 'built for eternity', while a typical French orad could be wrecked with a year by 'a moderate-sized colony of moles'.

You know. Caesar or the Devil. BOTH GREAT ROAD-BUILDERS.