University of Virginia Library

66. The Frenchmen and the Frogs
BY SAMUEL BRECK (1779)

BEFORE the Revolution the colonists had little or no communication with France, so that Frenchmen were known to them only through the prejudiced medium of England. Every vulgar story told by John Bull about Frenchmen living on salad and frogs was implicitly believed by Brother Jonathan, even by men of education and the first standing in society.

When, therefore, the first French squadron arrived at Boston,[175] the whole town, most of whom had never seen a Frenchman, ran to the wharves to catch a peep at the gaunt, half-starved crews. How much were my good townsmen astonished when they beheld, plump, portly officers and strong, vigorous sailors!

They could scarcely credit the thing, apparent as it was. Did these hearty-looking people belong to the lantern jawed, spindle-shank race of mounseers?[176] In a little while they became convinced that they had been deceived as to their personal appearance, but they knew, notwithstanding their good looks, that they were no better than frog-eaters, because they had been discovered hunting them in the noted Frogpond at the bottom of the Common.

With this last notion in his head, Mr. Nathaniel Tracy, who lived in a beautiful villa at Cambridge,[177] made a great feast for the admiral and his officers. Everything was furnished that could be had in the country to ornament and give variety to the entertainment. My father was one of the guests, and told me often that two large tureens of soup were placed at the ends of the table.

The admiral sat on the right of Tracy,[178] and Monsieur de l'Etombe on the left. L'Etombe was consul of France, resident at Boston. Tracy filled a plate with soup, which went to the admiral, and the next was handed to the consul. As soon as L'Etombe put his spoon into his plate he fished up a large frog, just as green and perfect as if he had hopped from the pond into the tureen.

Not knowing at first what it was, he seized it by one of its hind legs, and, holding it up in view of the whole company, discovered that it was a full-grown

frog. As soon as he had thoroughly inspected it, and made himself sure of the matter, he exclaimed, "Ah! mon Dieu! un grenouille!" then, turning to the gentleman next to him, gave him the frog.

He received it, and passed it around the table. Thus the poor crapaud made the tour from hand to hand until it reached the admiral. The company,

convulsed with laughter, examined the soup-plates as the servants brought them, and in each was to be found a frog. The uproar was universal. Meantime Tracy kept his ladle going, wondering what his outlandish guests meant by such extravagant merriment.

"What's the matter?" asked he, and, raising his head, surveyed the frogs dangling by a leg in all directions. "Why don't they eat them?" he exclaimed.

claimed. "If they knew the confounded trouble I had to catch them in order to treat them to a dish of their own country, they would find that with me, at least, it was no joking matter." Thus was poor Tracy deceived by vulgar prejudice and common report. He meant to regale his distinguished guests with refined hospitality, and had caused all the swamps of Cambridge to be searched in order to furnish them with a generous supply of what he believed to be in France a standing national dish. This entertainment was given in 1778 to the celebrated Count d'Estaing.