And now, as BAYES says, "let's have a Dance." ——



GENERAL HINTS

TO

STRANGERS

WHO

TRAVEL IN FRANCE.



GENERAL HINTS, &c.

I.

If you travel post, when you approach the town, or bourg where you intend to lie, ask the post-boy, which house he recommends as the best? and never go to that, if there is any other.—Be previously informed what other inns there are in the same place. If you go according to the post-boy's recommendation, the aubergiste gives him two or three livres, which he makes you pay the next morning. I know but one auberge between Marseilles and Paris, where this is not a constant practice, and that is at Vermanton, five leagues from Auxerre, where every English traveller will find a decent landlord, Monsieur Brunier, a St. Nicolas; good entertainment, and no imposition, and consequently an inn where no post-boy will drive, if he can avoid it.

II.

If you take your own horses, they must be provided with head-pieces, and halters; the French stables never furnish any such things; and your servant must take care that the Garcon d'Ecurie does not buckle them so tight, that the horses cannot take a full bite, this being a common practice, to save hay.

III.

If the Garcon d'Ecurie does not bring the halters properly rolled up, when he puts your horses to, he ought to have nothing given him, because they are so constantly accustomed to do it, that they cannot forget it, but in hopes you may too.

IV.

Direct your servant, not only to see your horses watered, and corn given them, but to stand by while they eat it: this is often necessary in England, and always in France.

V.

If you eat at the table d'Hote, the price is fixed, and you cannot be imposed upon. If you eat in your own chamber, and order your own dinner or supper, it is as necessary to make a previous bargain with your host for it, as it would be to bargain with an itinerant Jew for a gold watch; the conscience and honour of a French Aubergiste, and a travelling Jew, are always to be considered alike; and it is very remarkable, that the publicans in France, are the only people who receive strangers with a cool indifference! and where this indifference is most shewn, there is most reason to be cautious.

VI.

Be careful that your sheets are well aired, otherwise you will find them often, not only damp, but perfectly wet.—Frenchmen in general do not consider wet or damp sheets dangerous, I am sure French Aubergistes do not.

VII.

Young men who travel into France with a view of gaining the language, should always eat at the table d'Hote.—There is generally at these tables, an officer, or a priest, and though there may be none but people of a middling degree, they will shew every kind of attention and preference to a stranger.

VIII.

It is necessary to carry your own pillows with you; in some inns they have them; but in villages, bourgs, &c. none are to be had.

IX.

In the wine provinces, at all the table d'Hotes, they always provide the common wine, as we do small beer; wine is never paid for separately, unless it is of a quality above the vin du Pays; and when you call for better, know the price before you drink it.

X.

When fine cambrick handkerchiefs, &c. are given to be washed, take care they are not trimmed round two inches narrower, to make borders to Madame la Blanchisseuse's night caps: this is a little douceur which they think themselves entitled to, from my Lord Anglois, whom they are sure is tres riche, and consequently ought to be plundered by the poor.

XI.

Whenever you want honest information, get it from a French officer, or a priest, provided they are on the wrong side of forty; but in general, avoid all acquaintance with either, on the right side of thirty.

XII.

Where you propose to stay any time, be very cautious with whom you make an acquaintance, as there are always a number of officious forward Frenchmen, and English adventurers, ready to offer you their services, from whom you will find it very difficult to disengage yourself, after you have found more agreeable company.—Frenchmen of real fashion, are very circumspect, and will not fall in love with you at first sight; but a designing knave will exercise every species of flattery, in order to fix himself upon you for his dinner, or what else he can get, and will be with you before you are up, and after you are in bed.

XIII.

Wherever there is any cabinet of curiosities, medals, pictures, &c. to be seen, never make any scruple to send a card, desiring permission to view them; the request is flattering to a Frenchman, and you will never be refused; and besides this you will in all probability thereby gain a valuable acquaintance.—It is generally men of sense and philosophy, who make such collections, and you will find the collector of them, perhaps, the most pleasing part of the cabinet.

XIV.

Take it as a maxim, unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, that whenever you are invited to a supper at Paris, Lyons, or any of the great cities, where a little trifling play commences before supper, that GREAT PLAY is intended after supper; and that you are the marked pigeon to be plucked. Always remember Lord Chesterfield's advice to his son: "If you play with men, know with whom you play; if with women, for what:" and don't think yourself the more secure, because you see at the same table some of your own countrymen, though they are Lords or Ladies; a London gambler would have no chance in a Parisian party.

XV.

Dress is an essential and most important consideration with every body in France. A Frenchman never appears till his hair is well combed and powdered, however slovenly he may be in other respects.—Not being able to submit every day to this ceremony, the servant to a gentleman of fashion at whose house I visited in Marseilles, having forgot my name described me to his master, as the gentleman whose hair was toujours mal frise.—Dress is a foolish thing, says Lord Chesterfield; yet it is a foolish thing not to be well dressed.

XVI.

You cannot dine, or visit after dinner, in an undress frock, or without a bag to your hair; the hair en queue, or a little cape to your coat, would be considered an unpardonable liberty. Military men have an advantage above all others in point of dress, in France; a regimental or military coat carries a man with a bonne grace into all companies, with or without a bag to his hair; it is of all others the properest dress for a stranger in France, on many accounts.

XVII.

In France it is not customary to drink to persons at table, nor to drink wine after dinner: when the dessert is taken away, so is the wine;—an excellent custom, and worthy of being observed by all nations.

XVIII.

It is wrong to be led into any kind of conversation, but what is absolutely necessary, with the common, or indeed the middling class of people in France. They never fail availing themselves of the least condescension in a stranger, to ask a number of impertinent questions, and to conclude, you answer them civilly, that they are your equals.—Sentiment and bashfulness are not to be met with, but among people of rank in France: to be free and easy, is the etiquette of the country; and some kinds of that free and easy manner, are highly offensive to strangers, and particularly to a shy Englishman.

XIX.

When well-bred people flatter strangers, they seldom direct their flattery to the object they mean to compliment, but to one of their own country:—As, what a bonne grace the English have, says one to the other, in a whisper loud enough to be heard by the whole company, who all give a nod of consent; yet in their hearts they do not love the English of all other nations, and therefore conclude, that the English in their hearts do not love them.

XX.

No gentleman, priest, or servant, male or female, ever gives any notice by knocking before they enter the bed-chamber, or apartment of ladies or gentlemen.—The post-man opens it, to bring your letters; the capuchin, to ask alms; and the gentleman to make his visit. There is no privacy, but by securing your door by a key or a bolt; and when any of the middling class of people have got possession of your apartment, particularly of a stranger, it is very difficult to get them out.

XXI.

There is not on earth, perhaps, so curious and inquisitive a people as the lower class of French: noise seems to be one of their greatest delights. If a ragged boy does but beat a drum or sound a trumpet, he brings all who hear it about him, with the utmost speed, and most impatient curiosity.—As my monkey rode postillion, in a red jacket laced with silver, I was obliged to make him dismount, when I passed thro' a town of any size: the people gathered so rapidly about me at Moret, three leagues from Fontainbleau, while I stopped only to buy a loaf, that I verily believe every man, woman, and child, except the sick and aged, were paying their respects to my little groom; all infinitely delighted; for none offered the least degree of rudeness.

XXII.

The French never give coffee, tea, or any refreshment, except upon particular occasions, to their morning or evening visitors.

XXIII.

When the weather is cold, the fire small, and a large company, some young Frenchman shuts the whole circle from receiving any benefit from it, by placing himself just before it, laying his sword genteely over his left knee, and flattering himself, while all the company wish him at the devil, that the ladies are admiring his legs: when he has gratified his vanity, or is thoroughly warm, he sits down, or goes, and another takes his place. I have seen this abominable ill-breeding kept up by a set of accomplished young fops for two hours together, in exceeding cold weather. This custom has been transplanted lately into England.

XXIV.

Jealousy is scarce known in France; by the time the first child is born, an indifference generally takes place: the husband and wife have their separate acquaintance, and pursue their separate amusements, undisturbed by domestic squabbles: when they meet in the evening, it is with perfect good humour, and in general, perfect good breeding.—When an English wife plays truant, she soon becomes abandoned: it is not so with the French; they preserve appearances and proper decorum, because they are seldom attached to any particular man. While they are at their toilet, they receive the visits of their male acquaintance, and he must be a man of uncommon discernment, who finds out whom it is she prefers at that time.—In the southern parts of France, the women are in general very free and easy indeed.

XXV.

It is seldom that virgins are seduced in France; the married women are the objects of the men of gallantry. The seduction of a young girl is punished with death; and when they fall, it is generally into the arms of their confessor,—and that is seldom disclosed. Auricular confession is big with many mischiefs, as well as much good. Where the penitent and the confessor happen both to be young, he makes her confess not only all her sins, but sinful thoughts, and then, I fear he knows more than his prudence can absolve decently, and even when the confessor is old, the penitent may not be out of danger.

XXVI.

Never ask a Frenchman his age; no question whatever can be more offensive to him, nor will he ever give you a direct, though he may a civil answer.—Lewis the XVth was always asking every man about him, his age. A King may take that liberty, and even then, it always gives pain.—Lewis the XIVth said to Comte de Grammont, "Je sais votre age, l'Eveque de Senlis qui a 84 ans, m'a donne pour epoque, que vous avez etudie ensemble dans la meme classe." Cet Eveque, Sire, (replied the Comte,) n'accuse pas juste, car ni lui, ni moi n'avons jamais Etudie.—Before I knew how offensive this question was to a Frenchman, I have had many equivocal answers,—such as, O! mon dieu, as old as the town, or, I thank God, I am in good health, &c.

XXVII.

A modern French author says, that the French language is not capable of the jeux de mots. Les jeux de mots, are not, says he, in the genius de notre langue, qui est grave, de serieuse. Perhaps it maybe so; but the language, and the men, are then so different, that I thought quite otherwise,—though the following beautiful specimen of the seriousness of the language ought, in some measure; to justify his remark:

Un seul est frappe, & tous sont delivres, Dieu frappe sons fils innocent, pour l'amour Des hommes coupables, & pardonne aux hommes Coupables, pour l'amour de son fils innocent.

XXVIII.

All English women, as well as women of other nations, prefer France to their own country; because in France there is much less restraint on their actions, than there is, (should I not say, than there was?) in England. All Englishmen, however, who have young and beautiful wives, should, if they are not indifferent about their conduct, avoid a trip to Paris, &c. tho' it be but for "a six weeks tour." She must be good and wise too, if six weeks does not corrupt her mind and debauch her morals, and that too by her own sex, which is infinitely the most dangerous company. A French woman is as great an adept at laughing an English-woman into all contempt of fidelity to her husband, as married English-women are in general, in preparing them during their first pregnancy, for the touch of a man-midwife,—and both from the same motive; i.e. to do, as they have done, and bring all the sex upon a level.

XXIX.

The French will not allow their language to be so difficult to speak properly, as the English language; and perhaps they are in the right; for how often do we meet with Englishmen who speak French perfectly? how seldom do we hear a Frenchman speak English without betraying his country by his pronunciation? It is not so with the Spaniards; I conversed with two Spaniards who were never twenty miles from Barcelona, that spoke English perfectly well.—How, for instance, shall a Frenchman who cannot pronounce the English, be able to understand, (great as the difference is) what I mean when I say the sun is an hour high? May he not equally suppose that I said the sun is in our eye?

XXX.

When you make an agreement with an aubergiste where you intend to lie, take care to include beds, rooms, &c. or he will charge separately for these articles.

XXXI.

After all, it must be confessed, that Mons. Dessein's a l'Hotel d'Angleterre at Calais, is not only the first inn strangers of fashion generally go to, but that it is also the first and best inn in France. Dessein is the decoy-duck, and ought to have a salary from the French government: he is always sure of a good one from the English.

XXXII.

In frontier or garrison towns, where they have a right to examine your baggage, a twenty-four sols piece, and assuring the officer that you are a gentleman, and not a merchant, will carry you through without delay.

XXXIII.

Those who travel post should, before they set out, put up in parcels the money for the number of horses they use for one post, two posts, and a post et demi, adding to each parcel, that which is intended to be given to the driver, or drivers, who are intitled by the King's ordinance to five sols a post; and if they behave ill, they should be given no more; when they are civil, ten or twelve sols a post is sufficient. If these packets are not prepared, and properly marked, the traveller, especially if he is not well acquainted with the money, cannot count it out while the horses are changing, from the number of beggars which surround the carriage and who will take no denial.

XXXIV.

People of rank and condition, either going to, or coming from the continent, by writing to PETER FECTOR, Esq; at Dover, will find him a man of property and character, on whom they may depend.

LASTLY,

Valetudinarians, or men of a certain age, who travel into the southern parts of France, Spain, or Italy, should never omit to wear either a callico or fine flannel waistcoat under their shirts: strange as it may seem to say so, this precaution is more necessary in the south of France, than in England. In May last it was so hot at Lyons, on the side of the streets the sun shone on, and so cold on the shady side, that both were intolerable. The air is much more vif and penetrating in hot climates, than in cold. A dead dog, thrown into the streets of Madrid at night, will not have a bit of flesh upon his bones after it has been exposed to that keen air twenty-four hours.

FINIS.



[List of possible typos or transcriber changes:]

Ltr. 34 para. 2: monnments [monuments?]

Several inscriptions were blurred or missing in this source. Educated guesses were made in a few cases.

Ltr. 36: This is what was visible to the transcriber:

L DOMIT. DOMITIANI EX TRIERARCHI CLASS. GERM. D PECCO****A VALENTINA M CO*****ENTISSIMA.

Some characters blurred or missing. The full transcription was entered from other sources.

Some of this looks wrong—e.g. the third line should probably begin P F, rather than PE—but it matches the text as printed.

Ltr. 52 para. 2: Typo: that [than?]

Ltr. 54 para. 3: Typo: hundry [hungry?]

THE END