The town of Abbeville was not prosperous, and seemed to be fast falling into ruin; its peasantry were exceedingly poor, being only some little above misery. The dress differed to a surprising degree, being at so little distance from Calais, but the women of Abbeville wore dresses, not shifts, and, although they had the same wooden or leathern slippers and blue stockings, their hair was confined inside a turban, wrapt with a ribband of various colours. The only real similarity was the long earrings of the women, some more than a foot long! Mr. Darcy declared that these looked more like gravy-spoons than any other objects; Elizabeth questioned if such objects hanging from the head were not a threat to life and limb, it being impossible to turn around without their swinging out and away from the wearer with a dangerous velocity.

Abbeville’s single attraction was its cathedral, a fine old building of striking architecture. The interior was—as is usual with churches of the Romish religion—filled with idols and other superstitious ornaments. Interestingly, it was described by Georgiana as having been built by the English when this part of France was under the dominion of the Kings of England. Two poor country women were kneeling in front of Our Saviour on the cross with an earnestness and piety not often seen in a Church of England. One of the women had a very small infant in her arms, and was beseeching the Virgin for its salvation. For all of its faults as a way of worship, its adherents obviously found it a source of great comfort and consolation, more so, it seemed to the English, than the Protestants who must daily struggle to find solace in a faith not founded upon ritual and superstition.