Chapter II: The Roads of France

One of the joys of France to-day, as indeed it ever has been, is travel by road. The rail has its advantages, but it also has its disadvantages, whereas the most luxurious traveller by road, even if he be snugly tucked away in a sixty-horse royal Mercédes, is nothing more than an itinerant vagabond, and France is the land above all others for the sport.

As an industry to be developed and fostered, France early recognized the automobile as a new world-force, and the powers that be were convinced that the way should be smoothed for those who would, with the poet Henley, sing the song of speed.

With their inheritance of magnificent roadways, this was not difficult; for the French and mine host--or his French counterpart, who is really a more up-to-date individual than he is usually given the credit of being--rose gallantly to the occasion as soon as they saw the return of that trade which had grown beautifully less since the passing of the _malle-poste_ and the _diligence_.

The paternalism of the French government is a wonderful thing. It not only stands sponsor for the preservation and restoration of historical monuments,--great churches, châteaux, and the like,--but takes a genial interest in automobilism as well.

Hills have been levelled and dangerous corners straightened, level crossings abolished or better guarded; and, where possible, the dread _caniveaux_--or water-gullies--which cross the roadway here and there have been filled up. More than all else, the execrable paved road, for which France has been noted, is fast being done away with. It is perhaps worth mentioning that the chief magistrate himself is not an automobilist; which places him in practically a unique position among the rulers of Europe.

At Bayeux, at Caen, at Lisieux, and at Evreux, in Normandy, one is on that great national roadway which runs from Paris to Cherbourg through the heart of the old province. This great roadway is numbered XIII. by the government, which considers its highways a national property, and is typical of all others of its class throughout France.

The military roads of France are famous, and automobilists and some others know their real value as a factor in the prosperity of a nation.

It is not as it was in 1689, when Madame de Sévigné wrote that it took three days to travel from Paris to Rouen. Now one does it, in an automobile, in three hours.

From Pont Audemer she wrote a few days later to Madame de Grignan: “We slept yesterday at Rouen, a dozen leagues away.” Continuing, she said: “I have seen the most beautiful country in all the world; I have seen all the charms of the beautiful Seine, and the most agreeable prairies in the world.... I had known nothing of Normandy before.... I was too young to appreciate.”

Certainly this is quite true of Normandy, now as then, and to travel by road will demonstrate it beyond doubt.

The roads in France were, for several centuries after the decline and fall of the Roman power, in a very dilapidated state, as the result of simple neglect. Louis XIV., in the latter part of the seventeenth century, made some good roads in the vicinity of Paris; but it was not until the end of the eighteenth century (1775) that the real work of road-making throughout the country began. It was in the time of Napoleon I. that most of the great national roads, which run through the country in various directions, were constructed. These roads were made largely for military purposes, and connect the chief towns and the French frontiers with Paris.

Besides the leading roads, there are also many other roads varying in degrees of importance, classed as follows:

(1) _Routes Nationales._ Constructed and maintained by the national government.

(2) _Routes Départmentales._ Constructed and maintained by the several departments at national expense.

(3) _Chemins Vicinaux de Grande Communication._ Passing through and connecting two or more communities, maintained and served by them, aided by government grant.

(4) _Chemins Vicinaux de Moyenne Communication_. Similar to Class III., but of less importance, and maintained at the cost of the people, but controlled by the department.

(5) _Chemins de Petite Communication._ Of still less importance, maintained by the communities separately under the supervision of government engineers.

(6) _Chemins Ruraux._ Roads of the least importance, and wholly controlled and maintained by the people without any interference from the government officials.

The art of road-building in France is only excelled by that of the Romans, and they unfortunately lived before the days of high-speed traffic and rubber-shod wheels.

The great national roads, usually tree-bordered, average but three in one hundred grade, the departmental roads four in one hundred, and the _Chemins de Grande Communication_ five in one hundred. In all except very hilly districts, where of course there are deviations, this is the rule.

Napoleon’s idea was that these national highways were essentially a military means of communication, and as such they were laid out with a certain regularity and uniformity. Formerly they were largely paved with stone blocks. Who, among those who have travelled extensively by road in France, does not know the execrable pavements of the populated neighbourhoods through which these highways run? To-day these are largely disappearing. The roads in France suffer more from drought than from wet. They dry quickly after rain, and, in order to shade and protect the surface from the dry heat of summer, the planting of trees on the sides of the roads has been largely adopted. As showing the importance that has been attached to this matter, royal decrees were formerly passed, determining the manner of planting, the kind of trees to be used, and the penalties to be imposed on those who injured them.

Most of the roads of France, even the national roads, cross the railways on the level instead of over bridges. There are gate-keepers and gates for the protection of the public. At many of them the signalling is of a very primitive kind, and yet there are few accidents.

The history of the roads of France is the history of the nation since the conquest of ancient Gaul by the legions of Cæsar.

The _Voie Auguste_ was the first, and bound Lyons with Italy by the _Col du Petit St. Bernard_, which to-day is actually National Road No. 90.

Agrippa made Lyons the centre of four great diverging roads; the first by the valley of the Rhine and the Meuse; the second by Autun to the port of Genosiacum, to-day Boulogne-sur-mer; the third by Auvergne toward Bordeaux; and the fourth by the valley of the Rhône to Aix and Marseilles.

From the decadence of the Western Empire and the invasion of the Barbarians, these fine roads were practically abandoned. Many good bridges were destroyed, and the work of road-building ceased completely, the people finding their way about by mere trails.

With the advent of Christianity in Gaul there was a partial renaissance of these Roman roads, thanks to great fairs and pilgrimages. The monastic orders became in a way the parents and protectors of bridges and roads, with St. Bénèzet at their head, who in the twelfth century constructed the wonderful Pont d’Avignon, which still stands.

The general system of the present-day national roads follows largely the old Roman means of communication, as well as those traced by nature, along the banks of rivers and on the flanks of mountains and in the valleys lying between. The great national roads of France form a class by themselves, independent of the departmental and communal roads. They approximate forty thousand kilometres, and run at a tangent from the capital itself and between the chief cities of the eighty odd departments which make up modern France.

In general, the designation of the road, its number, and classification are indicated on the kilometre marks with which every important road in France is marked.

The national roads, having their origin at Paris, have their distances marked from Notre Dame, and certain of the secondary cities are taken for the point of departure of other great roads.

A ministerial decree, put forth in 1853, decided that the national roads should have their distances marked from their entrance into each department, a regulation which has been followed nearly everywhere, except that distances are still reckoned from Paris on most of the great highroads of Normandy and Brittany.

Guide-posts are placed at all important cross-roads and _pattes-d’oie_ (a goose-foot, literally).

An iron plaque, painted white and blue, beside the road, shows without any possibility of mistake the commune in which it is situated, the next important place in either direction, and frequently the next town of considerable proportions, even though it may be half a hundred kilometres distant.

_Touring Club de France_]

French roads are indeed wonderfully well marked; and these little blue and white plaques, put up by the roadside or fastened on the wall of some dwelling at the entrance or the exit of a village or town, must number hundreds of thousands.

In these days of fast-rushing automobiles a demand has sprung up for a more striking and legible series of special sign-boards along certain roads, in order that he who runs may read. And so the Touring Club of France, on the great road which runs from Paris through Normandy, to Havre and Dieppe, for instance, has erected a series of large-lettered and abbreviated sign-boards, which are all that could be desired.

Besides these, there are other enigmatical symbols and signs erected by paternal societies of road users which will strike a stranger dumb with conjecture as to what they may mean.

They are all essentially practical, however, as the following tableau will show. It is very important indeed for an automobilist or other road user to know that a railway-gate (like enough to be shut) awaits him around a sharp curve, or that a steep hill is hidden just behind a bank of trees.

Virage à droite. Virage à gauche. Mauvais pavé.

Virage avec montée. Virage avec descente. Rails en saillie sur route.

Dos d’âne. Caniveau. Passage en dessous.

Croisement dangereux. Descente sinueuse avec mauvais virages. Village.

_Road Signs_

_in France_]

Still another class of signs met with by road users in France is most helpful. They, too, shoot out a warning which one may read as he rushes by at high speed; printed in great staring letters, one, two, or three words which one dare not, if he values his life, ignore.

Truly one who goes astray or contravenes any law of the road in France has only himself to blame.

The chief national roads crossing Normandy are as follows:

No. 192 { Paris to Havre, by the right bank of the
and { Seine, passing Poissy, Melun, La Roche-Guyon,
“ 14. { Les Andelys, and Rouen.

“ 190. {Paris to Rouen and Honfleur, by the left
“ 182. { bank of the Seine.
“ 180. {

“ 13. Paris to Cherbourg, via Evreux and Caen.

“ 26. Paris to Fécamp by Yvetot.

“ 14. Paris to Dieppe.

“ 14, _bis._ Paris to Tréport.

“ 155. Paris to St. Malo, via Mayenne.

“ 24, _bis._ Paris to Granville by Verneuil.

“ 13 {
and { Paris to Coutances by Bayeux and St. Lô.
“ 172. {

“ 10. {
“ 12. {
“ 24. { Paris to Vannes, via Ploërmel.
“ 166. {

“ 10. {
“ 12. { Paris to Quimper, via Rennes and Lorient.
“ 24. {
“ 165. {

“ 10. { Paris to Brest, via Versailles, Alençon,
“ 12. { Laval, Rennes, and St. Brieuc.

“ 10. { Paris to Nantes and Paimbœuf, via Versailles,
“ 23. { Chartres, Le Mans, Angers, and
{ Nantes.

After the fall of the Roman Empire the magnificent roadways which threaded Gaul in every direction all but disappeared, and for a time the horse was employed only with the saddle, the more or less indolent nobles travelling mostly by vehicles drawn by oxen.

By the middle ages the horse had come to be admired as a noble animal by virtue of his usefulness in war; but the routes of communication were hardly more than simple tracks and by no means replaced the great rivers, which Pascal had called “_ces chemins qui marchent_.” Indeed the “_coches d’eau_” had not entirely disappeared from the waterways of France until 1830.

The first carriages at all approaching the modern fashion were imported from Italy in the sixteenth century, doubtless by the Medicis. In 1550 there were three, only, in Paris, but under Louis XIV. the roads became more carefully guarded and increased greatly in number.

The great _carrosses_ and _calèches_ of the early days were ponderous affairs, a _calèche_ known as a _litière_, the precursor of the modern sleeping-car, it would seem, having a weight of 2,500 kilos.

The following lines well describe it:

“C’est un embarras étrange,
Qu’un grand carrosse dans la fange,
C’est presque un village roulant....”

Under Louis XV. the _carrosse_ became lighter and the chaise on two wheels came in. Then followed _cabriolets_, _berlines_, and the _poste-chaise_, and finally the _malle-poste_ and the _diligence_.

The most familiar of all, to those of a few generations ago, and to readers of travel literature, is the _diligence_.

These great carriages apparently had a most respectable lease of life, many having been in service for a great many years. To-day they have mostly disappeared, and in Normandy and Brittany practically exist not at all, so far as the tourist traveller is concerned, though once and again they may be useful on a cross-country road in order to connect with the railroad.

It was only as late as 1760, however, that a public service of these diligences was established. At that time the coaches left Paris on stated days and travelled with unwonted regularity. The diligence to Rennes, in the heart of Bretagne, was timed for four days’ travelling, and five days was employed for the journey to the old Breton capital of Nantes, on the Loire.

These great carriages, commonly known as “Royales,” were hung on springs and drawn by eight horses. They did not travel as quickly as the _malle-poste_, but their rates were somewhat less, and they performed the common service before the advent of steam and the rail.

There was nothing very luxurious or grand about them, but they were majestic and picturesque, and they sometimes carried a load, including passengers and luggage, of five thousand kilos.

Closely allied with roads is the general topography of a country as shown by its maps.

No country has such a marvellous series of maps of its soil as has France. The maps of the Minister of the Interior and the _Etat Major_ are wonders of the art, and no traveller in Normandy or Brittany, or indeed any other part of France, should be without them. They are obtainable at any bookseller’s in a large town, and the prices are remarkably low; ranging from thirty centimes a sheet for the map of the _Etat Major_, printed only in black, to eighty centimes a sheet for the map of the Minister of the Interior, printed in colours.

The following conventional signs will show the extreme practicability of the maps of the _Etat Major_, which are made on four different scales, the most useful being that of 1-80,000. The maps of the Minister of the Interior are made only on the scale of 1-100,000.

Now and then on these great highroads of France, of which those of Normandy and Brittany are representative, one passes a headquarters or a barracks of the _gendarmerie_, those servitors of the law, the national police, an organization which grew up out of the men-at-arms or _gens d’armes_ of Charles VII.

These great barracks are veritable monasteries, where the religion of faithful duty to the public and the nation reigns supreme. One never passes one of these impressive establishments without a full appreciation of the motto of the knightly Bayard, so frequently graven over their doors: “_Sans peur et sans reproche_.”

The Assembly, in 1790, first instituted this almost perfectly organized police force, and Napoleon himself thought so highly of them that he wrote to Berthier in 1812: “Take not the police with you, but conserve them for the guarding of the country-side. Two or three hundred soldiers are as nothing, but two or three hundred police will assure the tranquillity and good order of the people at large.”

To-day, in times of peace, twenty-seven legions of police assure the security of the country-side; an effective force of about twenty-five thousand men and 725 officers, of whom a comparative few only are mounted.

A colonel or a lieutenant-colonel is placed at the head of a legion, a company being allotted to each department. The company is commanded by a major; then comes the district, placed under the orders of a captain or a lieutenant; the section, commanded by a junior officer; and finally a squad with a non-commissioned officer or corporal at its head.

Independent of crime and its details, the police are responsible as well for the maintenance of order in general.

The pay for all this, it is to be regretfully noted, is not at all commensurate. An unmounted policeman receives but 2 _fr._ 81 _c._ per day, and if he is mounted but 3 _fr._ 23 _c._ per day.