MADAME VERNIER
NEW HOUSE
July 7th.—Our new house was nearly opposite the theatre, which on a Sunday, particularly, was crowded with people; every Sunday evening a number of drunken people passed our windows; one Sunday we counted six close together.[36] Our servants went one day to the play, but it was so dirty that it made them quite sick. Near our house was a priests' school; we used to hear the boys singing a great part of the day and sometimes in the night. Behind our house there was a small garden with very little in it. When mamma went to see the house two of the rooms were carpeted, and everything was very comfortable. Although Monsieur Grincourt had several days to prepare it, when we came to our new house the carpets were taken up, the curtains were taken off some of the beds, and everything was uncomfortable. The fireplaces were full of every kind of rubbish. There were not enough plates, glasses, etc. And we were reduced to many curious expedients. The French are very dilatory about bringing things. We saw they did not intend to give us back our carpets, as the next day they sent a frotteur[37] to clean the floors; however, as we had taken the house with a carpet, we told them to bring it, and we used to send Nannette to scold every day till at last we got all we wanted. They also brought quilts for the beds, but they gave great charges that they were to be taken off at night. We got two tea-kettles which were a most extraordinary shape. The French make some little things very nicely, and other common things extremely awkwardly. There was a bath in the house, and the room adjoining it was remarkably damp; a great many toad-stools grew in the closet; there was also an ants' nest below the floor. The porter's wife was much younger than the one in our other house; her husband lived at Paris; she had one son of eleven or twelve, a very rude boy. Different people lived above us, latterly a Mr. and Mrs. Spurrier. Mr. Spurrier was determined his French servants should do like English servants; if he succeeded, I think he did more than any person did before him.
SUNDAY
July 8th.—The lady above stairs played the whole day without ceasing on the harp; the boys at the priests' school made more noise than usual in their playground; numbers of people were going to a village fête; a great many people passed by on their way to the theatre, among whom was Mademoiselle Croissé; we counted six drunken people; shops were open as usual, and people going about their work as on any other day. On Sunday Madame Crosnier's girls spent the day in working and dancing.
VILLAGE FÊTE
July 9th.—We went in a carriage to see the village fête of Louvécienne. Little Miss Foaker went with us. It was a fine evening. Louvécienne, or Lucien, is above four miles from Versailles; it is very pretty about the village. There were lamps hung across the trees, and seats placed round on the ground where they danced. Three fiddlers were stuck up in a kind of orchestra, and they played a very dull tune extremely badly. I was very much disappointed in the dancing: it was more like a funeral than a dance. The figure was a quadrille. They walked it all till they came to the setting, which they danced in their way, which was almost duller than the walking. All the time they were dancing their faces were as grave as judges: they behaved as if it was a lesson they wished to be done with; as soon as the dance was done they laughed, pulled each other round, and ran off to buy a sweetmeat at one of the booths; then they came back as grave as possible. One of the nicest girls was dressed in a white gown, pink apron, green shoes, and a gold chain; there was one very impudent, disagreeable, vulgar woman, dressed in blue cotton. Some were in white, and some had on red petticoats, high caps, gold chains, etc. There were booths, stalls, whirligigs, roundabouts, etc., like an English fair. We saw an old man and woman of sixty or seventy riding in a roundabout. At the other end, near some trees, there was a party of ladies and gentlemen; they danced much like the peasants, in some respects worse—one or two of them, however, danced tolerably well. This party had rather better music, but very dull. As we went away they were beginning to light the lamps. It looked very pretty to see the people under the trees, but the dancing nearly put one to sleep, and the music was like a funeral dirge. They say that the French like dancing better than anything, and we heard it very much admired. For my part, I think it is neither graceful, nor pretty, nor merry.