The scene which now presented itself was singular and beautiful.  On the right the land, running out boldly into the sea, offered, with its rich verdure, a striking contrast to the pale yellow sands beneath.  In front, the sea, blue, calm, waveless, and studded in the distance with a few white sails, glittering in the sun, ran in a straight line along the yellow plain, which was, moreover, intersected in various directions by numerous small rivers, whose shining waters looked like molten silver.  To add to the effect of the landscape, silence the most absolute brooded over it, except when the scream of a seamew, wheeling about drowsily in the sunny air, broke upon the ear.  The mount itself, with its ancient monastic towers, rearing their grey pinnacles towards heaven, in the midst of stillness and solitude, appeared to be formed by nature to be the abode of peace, and a soft and religious melancholy.

For some time I rode on musing, gazing delightedly at the scene, and recalling to mind the historical events which had taken place on those shores, and rendered them famous.  The cannon of England had thundered on every side, and her banners had waved triumphantly from the towers before me.  My reflections, however, were soon called off from these towering topics, being interrupted by the loud laugh of a party of soldiers and wagoners, who were regaling themselves with fresh air at the gate of the fortress.

Dismounting here, I entered the small town which clusters round the foot of the mount within the wall; and whatever romance might have taken lodging in my imagination, was quickly put to flight by the stink, and filth, and misery, which forced themselves upon my attention.  I never beheld a more odious den.  Leaving my horse and guide at a cabaret, I ascended the only street in the place, which winding about the foot of the mountain, leads directly to the castle.  Toiling up this abominable street, and several long and very steep flights of steps, I at length reached the door, where, having rung, and waited for some time, I was admitted by a saucy gendarme, who demanded my business and my passport in the most insolent tone imaginable.  I delivered up my passport; and while the rascal went to show it to the man in office—­governor, sub-governor, or some creature of that sort—­had to stand in the dismal passage, among a score or two of soldiers.  In general, however, French soldiers are remarkably polite, and these, with the exception of the above individual, were so also.  Even he, when he returned, had changed his tone; for, having learned from his superior that I was an Englishman, he came, with cap in hand, to conduct me round the building.

The first apartment, after the chapel, which is small, and by no means striking, into which I was led, was the ancient refectory, where there were some hundreds of criminals, condemned for several years to close imprisonment, or the galleys, weaving calico.  I never in my life saw so many demoniacal faces together.