The death of Lewis the XVth gave liberty to an infinite number of unhappy people, and to many who would have been enlarged before, but had been forgotten. When one of these unhappy people (a woman of fashion) was told she might go out; then, (said she) I am sure Lewis the XVth is dead; an event she knew nothing of, tho' it was a full year after the King's death.—Things are otherwise conducted now than in his reign; a wicked vain woman then commanded with unlimited power, both in war and domestic concerns. In this reign, there are able, and I believe virtuous ministers.
I suppose you think as I did, that Madame Pompadour governed by her own powerful charms; but that was not the case; she governed as many other women do, by borrowed charms; she had a correspondence all over the kingdom, and offices of intelligence, where youth, beauty, and innocence, were registered, which were sent to her according to order; upon the arrival of the goods, they were dressed, and trained for use, under her inspection, till they were fit to be shewn up. She had no regard to birth, for a shoe-maker's daughter of great beauty, belonging to one of the Irish brigades, being introduced to the King, he asked her whether she knew him? No: she did not: But did you ever see me before, or any body like me? She had not, but thought him very like the face on the gros Eccuis of France. Madame Pompadour soon found out which of these girls proved most agreeable to the King, and such were retained, the others dismissed.—The expence of this traffick was immense. I am assured where difficulties of birth or fashion fell in the way, ten thousand pounds sterling have been given. Had Lewis the XVth lived a few years longer, he would have ruined his kingdom. Lewis the XVIth bids fair to aggrandize it.
LETTER XLVI.
Post-house, St George, six leagues from Lyons.
I am particular in dating this letter, in hopes that every English traveller may avoid the place I write from, by either stopping short, or going beyond it, as it is the only house of reception for travellers in the village, and the worst I have met with in my whole journey. We had been scurvily treated here as we went; but having arrived at it after dark, and leaving it early, I did not recollect it again, till the mistress by her sour face and sorry fare betrayed it; for she well remembered us. As a specimen of French auberge cookery, I cannot help serving up a dish of spinnage to you as it was served to me at this house. We came in early in the afternoon, and while I was in the court-yard, I saw a flat basket stand upon the ground, the bottom of which was covered with boiled spinnage; and as my dog, and several others in the yard, had often put their noses into it, I concluded it was put down for their food, not mine, till I saw a dirty girl patting it up into round balls, and two children, the eldest of them not above three years old, slavering in and playing with it, one of whom, to lose no time, was performing an office that none could do for her. I asked the maid what she was about, and what it was she was so preparing? for I began to think I had been mistaken, till she told me it was spinnage;—not for me, I hope, said I,—'oui, pour vous et le monde.' I then forbad her bringing any to my table, and putting the little girl off her center, by an angry push, made her almost as dirty as the spinnage; and I could perceive her mother, the hostess, and some French travellers who were near, looked upon me as a brute, for disturbing la pauvre enfant; nevertheless, with my entree came up a dish of this delicate spinnage, with which I made the girl a very pretty Chapeau Anglois, for I turned it, dish and all, upon her head; this set the house in such an uproar, that, if there had not come in an old gentleman like Bourgeois of Paris, at that instant, I verily believe I should have been turned out; but he engaged warmly in my defence, and insisted upon it that I had treated the girl just as he would have done, had she brought such a dirty dish to him after being cautioned not to do so; nor should I have got any supper, had I not prevailed on this good-natured man, who never eat any, to order a supper for himself, and transfer it to me. He was a native of Lyons, and had been, for the first time after thirty years absence, to visit his relations there. My entertainment at this house, outward-bound, was half a second-hand roasted turkey, or, what the sailors call a twice-laid dish, i.e. one which is done over a second time.
I know the French in general will not like to see this dirty charge, brought even against an aubergiste, and much less to hear it said, that this disregard to cleanliness is almost general in the public inns; but truth justifies it, and I hope the publication may amend it.
A modern French anonymous traveller, who I conclude by the company he kept in England, is a man of fashion, gives in general a just account of the English nation, their customs and manners; and acknowledges, in handsome terms, the manner he was received by some of the first families in England. He owns, however, he does not understand English, yet he has the temerity to say, that Gulliver's travels are the chef d'œuvre of Dean Swift; but observes, that those travels are greatly improved by passing through the hands of Desfontaines.—This gentleman must excuse me in saying, that Desfontaines neither understood English, nor Dean Swift, better than he does. He also concludes his first volume, by observing, that what a French Ambassador to England said of that nation, in the year 1523, constitutes their character at this day! 'Alas! poor England! thou be'st so closely situated, and in such daily conversation with the polite and polished nation of France, thou hast gained nothing of their ease, breeding, and compliments, in the space of two hundred and fifty years!'—What this gentleman alludes to, is the Ambassador's letter to the Conetable Montmorency, previous to the meeting of Henry the Eighth and Francis the First, near Ardres; for, (says the Ambassador) sur-tout je vous prie, que vous ostiez de la Cour, ceux qui unt la reputation d'etre joyeux & gaudisseur, car c'est bien en ce monde, la chose la plus haie de cette nation. And in a few lines after, he foists in an extract from a Scotchman, one Barclay, who, in his Examen of Nations, says, Jenenc connoit point de plus aimable creature, qui un François chez qui l'enjoument est tempore par le judgment, & par discretion; to all which I subscribe: but such men are seldom to be met with in any kingdom.
This gentleman says, the most remarkable, or rather the only act of gaiety he met with in London, was an harangue made for an hour in the House of Lords, previous to the trial of Lord Byron; and that, as he afterwards understood, it was made by a drunken member of parliament. He says it made him and every body laugh exceedingly; but he laughed only (I presume) because every body else did, and relates the story, I fear, merely to make it a national laugh; for the harangue was certainly very ill placed, and the mirth it produced, very indecent, at a time a Peer of the realm was to be brought forth, accused of murder; and the untimely death of a valuable and virtuous young man, revived in every body's memory.
This is the unfavourable side of what the gentleman says of the first people in England. Of the peasants and lower order, he observes, that, though they are well fed, well cloathed, and well lodged, yet they are all of a melancholy turn.—The French have no idea of what we call dry humour; and this gentleman, perhaps, thought the English clown melancholy, while he was laughing in his sleeve at the foppery of his laquais.