Diary of John Adams, volume 3

Oct. 23. Wednesday. JA

1782-10-23

Oct. 23. Wednesday. Adams, John
Oct. 23. Wednesday.

Rode to Mons in a great Rain, dined at the Couronne De L'Impereur, very well and very cheap, rode to Valenciennes and found our Axletree broken again. Put up at the Post house.

Walked about the Town, the Churches all shut, and nothing remarkable.

The bright rosy morning, peeps over the Hills With blushes adorning, the Meadows and Fields. The merry, merry, merry horn, calls come, come away Awake from your Slumbers, and hail the new Day. The Stag rous'd before Us, away seems to fly And pants to the Chorus of Hounds in full Cry. The follow, follow, follow, follow, the musical Chase While Pleasure and Vigour each other embrace. The day Sports being over, makes blood circle right And gives the brisk Lover, fresh Charms for the night. Then Let Us, Let us now enjoy, all We can while We may Let Love crown the night Boys, as our Sports crown the day.
The Banks of the Dee.
T'was Summer, when softly the Breezes were blowing And sweetly the Nightingale sang from the Tree At the Foot of a Rock, where the River was flowing I sat myself down on the Banks of the Dee.
Flow on lovely Dee! flow on thou sweet River Thy Bank's, purest Stream! shall be dear to me, ever For then I first gain'd the Affections and favour Of Jemmy, the Glory and Pride of the Dee. But now he is gone and has left me, thus mourning To quel the proud Tyrant, for valiant is he And Ah! there's nae hope of his speedy returning To stroll here again on the Banks of the Dee. He's gone hapless youth, o'er the wide roaring Billows The kindest the sweetest of all the young Fellows And has left me to wander among the green Willows The loneliest Lass, on the Banks of the Dee. 34 But time and my Prayers may perhaps yet restore him Sweet Peace may return my dear Soldier to me And when he returns, with such Care, I'll watch o'er him He n'eer shall again leave the Banks of the Dee. The Dee then shall flow all its Beauties displaying The Lambs shall again on its Banks be seen playing Whilst I with my Jemmy, am carelessly straying And tasting afresh all the Sweets of the Dee.

All the Cities and Villages of Brabant are very different from those of Holland. The Streets very foul. The Houses very dirty, the Doors and Windows broken, Bricks and Glass wanting. The People, Men, Women and Children filthy and ragged.

Oct. 24. Thursday. JA

1782-10-24

Oct. 24. Thursday. Adams, John
Oct. 24. Thursday.

Visited the Church at Valenciennes. Saw a notre Dame De Hall. She appears pregnant. A Collection of Portraits ancient and modern, and a Picture of the Virgin Mary in the Air, sending by Angels a Cord round the City with an Inscription importing, Valenciennes surrounded with a Cord by the blessed Virgin, and saved from the Plague Anno 1008.

Dined at Cambray, visited the Cathedral, saw the Tomb of Fenelon, his Statue, Picture &c. Saw the Chapter where the Chanoines meet twice a Week, and saw also the Room where are the Portraits of all the Archbishops and Bishops ancient and Modern, and Fenelon among the rest. There is also in this Church a curious Piece of Clock Work, which represents the whole Proscess with Jesus Christ like that in the 7 Chappells of Mount Calvare.—Lodged at Peronne.

Oct. 25. Fryday. JA

1782-10-25

Oct. 25. Fryday. Adams, John
Oct. 25. Fryday.

Dined at Gourney. Carriage broke again. Arrived at Night, at Pont-Sainte-Maxence, two Posts from Chantilly and one and an half from Senlis.

The Ecchoing horn
The ecchoing horn calls the Sportsmen abroad To horse, my brave Boys, and away The morning is up and the Cry of the hounds Upbraids our too tedious Delay.
35 What Pleasure We find in pursuing the Fox O'er hills and o'er Valleys he flies Then follow, W'ell soon overtake him. Huzza The Traitor is seized on and dies. Tryumphant returning at night with our Spoils Like Bacchanals shouting and gay How Sweet with a Bottle and Lass to refresh And loose the Fatigues of the Day. With Sport, Love and Wine fickle Fortune defy Dull Wisdom all Happiness sours Since Life is no more than a Passage at best Let's strew the Way over with Flowers.