In contrast to this are the more luxurious, if less moral, resorts of the wealthy class; or, at least, of that class which keeps more money in circulation.
The dwellers in the Seine valley, like those along the countless other streams of France, are great fishermen; not so much for the sport or the quarry it may provide, nor for sociability, since the fisherman's art is the least sociable of sports, as, it would seem, for the purpose of meditation. There is good fishing in the Seine, as all who partake thereof well know. From the Paris bridges and quays down the river to Rouen are many famous fishing-grounds.
Here it is that you see the true fisherman in all his glory. He sits beneath his big hat, or under an umbrella if the sun shines strongly, in a low-backed chair in a punt, and patiently holds his rod or line from early morn to late at night.
When he lays down his line for a time the French fisherman begins to think of eating and drinking. None of your ordinary picnic lunches either, of cold ham and hard boiled eggs; but most likely a cold fowl, washed down with good wine; and he prefers cold coffee to weak tea as an afterthought. This if he is not within hail of a waterside inn, in which case he will find provided a variety and a quantity of well-prepared food to suit both his taste and his appetite.
One has heard of chapels in rocks before now. Indeed, if memory serves truly, there are several in various parts of Europe that are remarkable not only for the manner of building, but often for local tradition and legend as well. There is nothing remarkable about the rock-hewn, cliff-cut Chapel of St. Adrien, near Rouen, to give it any great distinction, except its manner of building; and in this respect it is far more interesting than many already more famous. There is no pretence at architectural splendour, and the size of the edifice precludes the possibility of any vast utility. Still there is something more than a mere curio-value to this little chapel cut in the limestone cliff above the Seine, and as an ecclesiastical monument of note it is far more worthy than the pilgrim shrine at Bon Secours.
The cafés and open-air restaurants at its feet somewhat savour of the frivolous. But what would you? They are there simply because it is a beautiful spot accessible to the busy city of Rouen; and are withal orderly and well-conducted, well-patronized places. Between Pont de l'Arche and Rouen is Elbeuf, perhaps as famous to-day for its cloth-manufactories as for its storied past. This, however, will not interest the seeker of historic shrines, nor will the miles of execrable pavement and the tram-tracks which line its five kilometres of main street please automobilists. These detractions account for the absence of the tourist from the busy but picturesque town of Elbeuf. Nor is there much to admire here except its curious, conglomerate old church and the general picturesqueness of its surroundings, heightened even by the commonplaceness of the busy little industrial city itself. The tall chimneys of its cloth-factories, and the streamers of black smoke continually belching therefrom, soften and tone down the tints of sky and landscape in the real symphonic fashion set by Whistler.