EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS
In these messes there was a great show of viands, but on the tables of too many inns there was no superabundance of real food, and there was no shadow of doubt as to when the meal had come to a conclusion. An Englishman who had lived long abroad comments sharply in "A Description of Holland"[1] upon the niggardly supply of eatables afforded by many French innkeepers: "They have not heart to provide handsomly for their guests, and are so saving and penurious, the foible and habit of their nation, that they count every bit one puts into one's mouth. They are as well pleased to see their dishes not touched, as a hearty English landlord is displeased, when he thinks his guest does not like his victuals." Another earlier fault-finder observes: "'Tis a great inconvenience to travel in France upon a fish-day; for 'tis a hard matter to get anything to eat but stinking fish or rotten eggs."[2]
A common and weU-grounded complaint was that the drinking-water was often unfit for use, particularly at Paris, where the supply was drawn from the narrow and dirty Seine,[3] and had to be filtered. Those who could afford it drank Eau de Roy from Ville d'Avray.[4]
English tourists were cautioned also not to go to France without a knife and fork, for, says "The Gentleman's Guide,"[5] "if you neglect taking [them] with you, you'll often run the risk of losing your dinner."
StiU another opportunity for criticism was afforded by the usual hour for dinner. To gentlemen who felt bound to conform to French conventions in order to be admitted to society, the noon dinner, "customary all over France, except by persons of considerable fashion at Paris," appeared a serious waste of time.[6] "We dress for dinner in England with propriety," says Young, "as the rest of the day is dedicated to ease, to converse, and relaxation; but by doing it at noon too much time is lost. What is a man good for after his silk breeches and stockings are on, his hat under his arm, and his head bien poudré?" And we must grant that Young is right.
This rapid glance at the eighteenth-century French inn
83
