Four Years in France: or, Narrative of an English Family's Residence there during that Period; Preceded by some Account of the Conversion of the Author to the Catholic FaithBeste, Henry Digby
Religion
Four Years in France: or, Narrative of an English Family's Residence there during that Period; Preceded by some Account of the Conversion of the Author to the Catholic Faith
Beste, Henry Digby
France -- Description and travel
On the sixteenth of August, at one in the afternoon, the carriage came
to the door which was to convey us from Paris. We took a light and hasty
lunch, or nuncheon, or noonshine, or meridian repast, while the trunks
were tying on; and at two, were ready to depart; when up steps the
mistress of the house, requesting me to verify the inventory. "Why did
you not come sooner?"--"We were unwilling to disturb you while you were
dining."--"Why did not you propose this business to me this morning when
I paid my rent?"--"We did not know you were going away." It is very
improbable that I should not have made them understand that it was
because I was going away that I paid my rent; but it is one disadvantage
of being a foreigner, that all, who find it their interest, may choose
to misunderstand.
I had taken lodgings for short periods in London, and at what are called
watering-places in England, where no inventory was made, consequently
none was verified: but here confidence was not so well established, or
there were other reasons. It was the usage of the country; it was
necessary to submit.
The apartment was furnished with an abundance of mirrors, some handsome
pieces of mahogany, a rare wood in France; sofas, and fauteuils, and a
most plentiful lack of almost every necessary article. My cook had
hardly wherewithal to prepare our meals, and was obliged to sleep in the
kitchen: a chamber had been promised; but the key of this chamber was
not to be found when the lodging was taken, and the door was never
opened afterwards. Kitchen utensils had been promised, and, during the
first fortnight, frequently demanded: at last the silence of despair
succeeded to hopeless importunity, as a fine writer might perhaps
express himself. But, to the inventory.
The grand articles were quickly dispatched: luckily my children had
broken no looking-glasses, though surrounded by them. But when we came
to the china and the crockery,--ay, then was the question: after the
bona fide broken had been disposed of, about which there could be no
dispute, except that some were broken only because they were already
cracked,--then was the question whether such or such articles were
damaged by us, or before we came to the house. An ornamental china vase
had been supplied, and its fellow promised: this fellow jar was now
found to have but one ear, whereas its mate had two. The edges of the
fracture were rounded by use, and dirt was seen in the interstices. But
I paid what was required, for the carriage was at the door.
I have heard of a travelling Englishman, of whom was demanded, on his
leaving his apartment, the price of a cracked pane of glass: his
conscience acquitted him of the deed: after having for some time
fruitlessly pleaded his innocence, he quietly raised his cane, and broke
in pieces the cause of the altercation. "This pane shall be paid for no
more," said he, patriotically mindful of the interests of his
successors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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