Le Juif errant. English by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER L. THE COMMON DWELLING-HOUSE
Whilst the Wolves, as we have just seen, prepared a savage attack onthe Devourers, the factory of M. Hardy had that morning a festal air,perfectly in accordance with the serenity of the sky; for the wind wasfrom the north, and pretty sharp for a fine day in March. The clock hadjust struck nine in the Common Dwelling-house of the workmen, separatedfrom the workshops by a broad path planted with trees. The rising sunbathed in light this imposing mass of buildings, situated a league fromParis, in a gay and salubrious locality, from which were visible thewoody and picturesque hills, that on this side overlook the great city.Nothing could be plainer, and yet more cheerful than the aspect of theCommon Dwelling-house of the workmen. Its slanting roof of red tilesprojected over white walls, divided here and there by broad rows ofbricks, which contrasted agreeably with the green color of the blinds onthe first and second stories.
These buildings, open to the south and east, were surrounded by a largegarden of about ten acres, partly planted with trees, and partly laidout in fruit and kitchen-garden. Before continuing this description,which perhaps will appear a little like a fairy-tale, let us begin bysaying, that the wonders, of which we are about to present the sketch,must not to be considered Utopian dreams; nothing, on the contrary,could be of a more positive character, and we are able to assert, andeven to prove (what in our time is of great weight and interest),that these wonders were the result of an excellent speculation, andrepresented an investment as lucrative as it was secure. To undertakea vast, noble, and most useful enterprise; to bestow on a considerablenumber of human creatures an ideal prosperity, compared with thefrightful, almost homicidal doom, to which they are generally condemned;to instruct them, and elevate them in their own esteem; to make themprefer to the coarse pleasures of the tavern, or rather to the fataloblivion which they find there, as an escape from the consciousnessof their deplorable destiny, the pleasures, of the intellect and theenjoyments of art; in a word, to make men moral by making them happy,and finally, thanks to this generous example, so easy of imitation, totake a place amongst the benefactors of humanity--and yet, at the sametime to do, as it were, without knowing it, an excellent stroke ofbusiness--may appear fabulous. And yet this was the secret of thewonders of which we speak.
Let us enter the interior of the factory. Ignorant of Mother Bunch'scruel disappearance, Agricola gave himself up to the most happy,thoughts as he recalled Angela's image, and, having finished dressingwith unusual care, went in search of his betrothed.
Let us say two words on the subject of the lodging, which the smithoccupied in the Common Dwelling-house, at the incredibly low rateof seventy-five francs per annum like the other bachelors on theestablishment. This lodging, situated on the second story, was comprisedof a capital chamber and bedroom, with a southern aspect, and lookingon the garden; the pine floor was perfectly white and clean; the ironbedstead was supplied with a good mattress and warm coverings; a gasburner and a warm-air pipe were also introduced into the rooms, tofurnish light and heat as required; the walls were hung with prettyfancy papering, and had curtains to match; a chest of drawers, a walnuttable, a few chairs, a small library, comprised Agricola's furniture.Finally, in the large and light closet, was a place for his clothes, adressing table, and large zinc basin, with an ample supply of water.If we compare this agreeable, salubrious, comfortable lodging, with thedark, icy, dilapidated garret, for which the worthy fellow paid ninetyfrancs at his mother's, and to get to which he had more than a leagueand a half to go every evening, we shall understand the sacrifice hemade to his affection for that excellent woman.
Agricola, after casting a last glance of tolerable satisfaction at hislooking-glass, while he combed his moustache and imperial, quitted hischamber, to go and join Angela in the women's workroom. The corridor,along which he had to pass, was broad, well-lighted from above, flooredwith pine, and extremely clean. Notwithstanding some seeds of discordwhich had been lately sown by M. Hardy's enemies amongst his workmen,until now so fraternally united, joyous songs were heard in almostall the apartments which skirted the corridor, and, as Agricola passedbefore several open doors, he exchanged a cordial good-morrow with manyof his comrades. The smith hastily descended the stairs, crossedthe court yard, in which was a grass-plot planted with trees, with afountain in the centre, and gained the other wing of the building. Therewas the workroom, in which a portion of the wives and daughters of theassociated artisans, who happened not to be employed in the factory,occupied themselves in making up the linen. This labor, joined to theenormous saving effected by the purchase of the materials wholesale,reduced to an incredible extent the price of each article. Afterpassing through this workroom, a vast apartment looking on the garden,well-aired in summer,(29) and well-warmed in winter, Agricola knocked atthe door of the rooms occupied by Angela's mother.
If we say a few words with regard to this lodging, situated on the firststory, with an eastern aspect, and also looking on the garden, it isthat we may tape it as a specimen of the habitation of a family in thisassociation, supplied at the incredibly small price of one hundred andtwenty-five francs per annum.
A small entrance, opening on the corridor, led to a large room, on eachside of which was a smaller chamber, destined for the family, when theboys and girls were too big to continue to sleep in the two dormitories,arranged after the fashion of a large school, and reserved for thechildren of both sexes. Every night the superintendence of thesedormitories was entrusted to a father and mother of a family, belongingto the association. The lodging of which we speak, being, like all theothers, disencumbered of the paraphernalia of a kitchen--for thecooking was done in common, and on a large scale, in another part of thebuilding--was kept extremely clean. A pretty large piece of carpet,a comfortable arm-chair, some pretty-looking china on a stand of wellpolished wood, some prints hung against the walls, a clock of giltbronze, a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mahogany secretary, announcedthat the inhabitants of this apartment enjoyed not only the necessaries,but some of the luxuries of life. Angela, who, from this time, mightbe called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flatteringportrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poorMother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressedwith as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of hermother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him.
"Mademoiselle," said Agricola, "I have come to keep my promise, if yourmother has no objection."
"Certainly, M. Agricola," answered the mother of the young girlcordially. "She would not go over the Common Dwelling-house with herfather, her brother, or me, because she wished to have that pleasurewith you today. It is quite right that you, who can talk so well, shoulddo the honors of the house to the new-comer. She has been waiting foryou an hour, and with such impatience!"
"Pray excuse me, mademoiselle," said Agricola, gayly; "in thinking ofthe pleasure of seeing you, I forgot the hour. That is my only excuse."
"Oh, mother!" said the young girl, in a tone of mild reproach, andbecoming red as a cherry, "why did you say that?"
"Is it true, yes or no? I do not blame you for it; on the contrary. Gowith M. Agricola, child, and he will tell you, better than I can, whatall the workmen of the factory owe to M, Hardy."
"M. Agricola," said Angela, tying the ribbons of her pretty cap, "what apity that your good little adopted sister is not with us."
"Mother Bunch?--yes, you are right, mademoiselle; but that is only apleasure put off, and the visit she paid us yesterday will not be thelast."
Having embraced her mother, the girl took Agricola's arm, and they wentout together.
"Dear me, M. Agricola," said Angela; "if you knew how much I wassurprised on entering this fine house, after being accustomed to see somuch misery amongst the poor workmen in our country, and in which I toohave had my share, whilst here everybody seems happy and contented. Itis really like fairy-land; I think I am in a dream, and when I ask mymother the explanation of these wond
"Do you know why I am so happy to undertake that delightful task,mademoiselle?" said Agricola, with an accent at once grave and tender."Nothing could be more in season."
"Why so, M. Agricola?"
"Because, to show you this house, to make you acquainted with all theresources of our association, is to be able to say to you: 'Here, theworkman, sure of the present, sure of the future, is not, like so manyof his poor brothers, obliged to renounce the sweetest want of theheart--the desire of choosing a companion for life--in the fear ofuniting misery to misery."'
Angela cast down her eyes, and blushed.
"Here the workman may safely yield to the hope of knowing the sweet joysof a family, sure of not having his heart torn hereafter by the sightof the horrible privations of those who are dear to him; here, thanks toorder and industry, and the wise employment of the strength of all, men,women, and children live happy and contented. In a ward, to explain allthis to you, mademoiselle," added Agricola, smiling with a still moretender air, "is to prove, that here we can do nothing more reasonablethan love, nothing wiser than marry."
"M. Agricola," answered Angela, in a slightly agitated voice, andblushing still more as she spoke, "suppose we were to begin our walk."
"Directly, mademoiselle," replied the smith, pleased at the troublehe had excited in that ingenuous soul. "But, come; we are near thedormitory of the little girls. The chirping birds have long left theirnests. Let us go there."
"Willingly, M. Agricola."
The young smith and Angela soon entered a spacious dormitory, resemblingthat of a first-rate boarding school. The little iron bedsteads werearranged in symmetrical order; at each end were the beds of the twomothers of families, who took the superintendence by turns.
"Dear me! how well it is arranged, M. Agricola, and how neat and clean!Who is it that takes such good care of it?"
"The children themselves; we have no servants here. There is anextraordinary emulation between these urchins--as to who shall make herbed most neatly, and it amuses them quite as much as making a bed fortheir dolls. Little girls, you know, delight in playing at keepinghouse. Well, here they play at it in good earnest, and the house isadmirably kept in consequence."
"Oh! I understand. They turn to account their natural taste for all suchkinds of amusement."
"That is the whole secret. You will see them everywhere usefullyoccupied, and delighted at the importance of the employments giventhem."
"Oh, M. Agricola!" said Angela, timidly, "only compare these finedormitories, so warm and healthy, with the horrible icy garrets, wherechildren are heaped pell-mell on a wretched straw-mattress, shiveringwith cold, as in the case with almost all the workmen's families in ourcountry!"
"And in Paris, mademoiselle, it is even worse."
"Oh! how kind, generous, and rich must M. Hardy be, to spend so muchmoney in doing good!"
"I am going to astonish you, mademoiselle!" said Agricola, with a smile;"to astonish you so much, that perhaps you will not believe me."
"Why so, M. Agricola?"
"There is not certainly in the world a man with a better and moregenerous heart than M. Hardy; he does good for its own sake and withoutthinking of his personal interest. And yet, Mdlle. Angela, were he themost selfish and avaricious of men, he would still find it greatly tohis advantage to put us in a position to be as comfortable as we are."
"Is it possible, M. Agricola? You tell me so, and I believe it; but ifgood can so easily be done, if there is even an advantage in doing it,why is it not more commonly attempted?"
"Ah! mademoiselle, it requires three gifts very rarely met with in thesame person--knowledge, power and will."
"Alas! yes. Those who have the knowledge, have not the power."
"And those who have the power, have neither the knowledge nor the will."
"But how does M. Hardy find any advantage in the good he does for you?"
"I will explain that presently, mademoiselle."
"Oh, what a nice, sweet smell of fruit!" said Angela, suddenly.
"Our common fruit-store is close at hand. I wager we shall find theresome of the little birds from the dormitory--not occupied in picking andstealing, but hard at work."
Opening a door, Agricola led Angela into a large room, furnished withshelves, on which the winter fruits were arranged in order. A numberof children, from seven to eight years old, neatly and warmly clad,and glowing with health, exerted themselves cheerfully, under thesuperintendence of a woman, in separating and sorting the spoiled fruit.
"You see," said Agricola, "wherever it is possible, we make use of thechildren. These occupations are amusements for them, answering to theneed of movement and activity natural to their age; and, in this way, wecan employ the grown girls and the women to much better advantage."
"True, M. Agricola; how well it is all arranged."
"And if you saw what services the urchins in the kitchen render!Directed by one or two women, they do the work of eight or tenservants."
"In fact," said Angela, smiling, "at their age, we like so much to playat cooking dinner. They must be delighted."
"And, in the same way, under pretext of playing at gardening, they weedthe ground, gather the fruit and vegetables, water the flowers, roll thepaths, and so on. In a word, this army of infant-workers, who generallyremain till ten or twelve years of age without being of any service,are here very useful. Except three hours of school, which is quitesufficient for them, from the age of six or seven their recreations areturned to good account, and the dear little creatures, by the saving offull-grown arms which they effect, actually gain more than they cost;and then, mademoiselle, do you not think there is something in thepresence of childhood thus mixed up with every labor--something mild,pure, almost sacred, which has its influence on our words and actions,and imposes a salutary reserve? The coarsest man will respect thepresence of children."
"The more one reflects, the more one sees that everything here is reallydesigned for the happiness of all!" said Angela, in admiration.
"It has not been done without trouble. It was necessary to conquerprejudices, and break through customs. But see, Mdlle. Angela! here weare at the kitchen," added the smith, smiling; "is it not as imposing asthat of a barrack or a public school?"
Indeed, the culinary department of the Common Dwelling-house wasimmense. All its utensils were bright and clean; and thanks to themarvellous and economical inventions of modern science (which are alwaysbeyond the reach of the poorer classes, to whom they are most necessary,because they can only be practised on a large scale), not only the fireon the hearth, and in the stoves, was fed with half the quantity offuel that would have been consumed by each family individually, but theexcess of the caloric sufficed, with the aid of well-constructed tubes,to spread a mild and equal warmth through all parts of the house. Andhere also children, under the direction of two women, rendered numerousservices. Nothing could be more comic than the serious manner in whichthey performed their culinary functions; it was the same with theassistance they gave in the bakehouse, where, at an extraordinary savingin the price (for they bought flour wholesale), they made an excellenthousehold bread, composed of pure wheat and rye, so preferable tothat whiter bread, which too often owes its apparent qualities to somedeleterious substance.
"Good-day, Dame Bertrand," said Agricola, gayly, to a worthy matron, whowas gravely contemplating the slow evolution of several spits, worthyof Gamache's Wedding so heavily were they laden with pieces of beef,mutton, and veal, which began to assume a fine golden brown color of themost attractive kind; "good-day, Dame Bertrand. According to the rule,I do not pass the threshold of the kitchen. I only wish it to be admiredby this young lady, who is a new-comer amongst us."
"Admire, my lad, pray admire--and above all take notice, how good thesebrats are, and how well they work!" So saying, the matron pointed withthe long ladle, which served her as a sceptre, to some fifteen childrenof both sexes, seated round a t
"We are, I see, to have a downright Belshazzar's feast, Dame Bertrand?"said Agricola, laughing.
"Faith, a feast like we have always, my lad. Here is our bill of farefor to-day. A good vegetable soup, roast beef with potatoes, salad,fruit, cheese; and for extras, it being Sunday, some currant tarts madeby Mother Denis at the bakehouse, where the oven is heating now."
"What you tell me, Dame Bertrand, gives me a furious appetite," saidAgricola, gayly. "One soon knows when it is your turn in the kitchen,"added he, with a flattering air.
"Get along, do!" said the female Soyer on service, merrily.
"What astonishes me, so much, M. Agricola," said Angela, as theycontinued their walk, "is the comparison of the insufficient,unwholesome food of the workmen in our country, with that which isprovided here."
"And yet we do not spend more than twenty-five sous a day, for muchbetter food than we should get for three francs in Paris."
"But really it is hard to believe, M. Agricola. How is it possible?"
"It is thanks to the magic wand of M. Hardy. I will explain it allpresently."
"Oh! how impatient I am to see M. Hardy!"
"You will soon see him--perhaps to-day; for he is expected every moment.But here is the refectory, which you do not yet know, as your family,like many others, prefer dining at home. See what a fine room, lookingout on the garden, just opposite the fountain!"
It was indeed a vast hall, built in the form of a gallery, with tenwindows opening on the garden. Tables, covered with shining oil-cloth,were ranged along the walls, so that, in winter, this apartmentserved in the evening, after work, as a place of meeting for those whopreferred to pass an hour together, instead of remaining alone or withtheir families. Then, in this large hall, well warmed and brilliantlylighted with gas, some read, some played cards, some talked, and someoccupied themselves with easy work.
"That is not all," said Agricola to the young girl; "I am sure you willlike this apartment still better when I tell you, that on Thursdaysand Sundays we make a ball-room of it, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays aconcert-room."
"Really!"
"Yes," continued the smith, proudly, "we have amongst us musicians,quite capable of tempting us to dance. Moreover, twice a week, nearlyall of us sing in chorus--men, women, and children. Unfortunately, thisweek, some disputes that have arisen in the factory have prevented ourconcerts."
"So many voices! that must be superb."
"It is very fine, I assure you. M. Hardy has always encouraged thisamusement amongst us, which has, he says--and he is right--so powerfulan effect on the mind and the manners. One winter, he sent for twopupils of the celebrated Wilhelm, and, since then, our school has madegreat progress. I assure you, Mdlle. Angela, that, without flatteringourselves, there is something truly exciting in the sound of two hundredvoices, singing in chorus some hymn to Labor or Freedom. You shall hearit, and you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something greatand elevating in the heart of man, in this fraternal harmony of voices,blending in one grave, sonorous, imposing sound."
"Oh! I believe it. But what happiness to inhabit here. It is a life ofjoy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure."
"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," repliedAgricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposedsituation?"
"Yes; what is it?"
"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy modeof life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to havea good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such amanner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives twothirds of what he would have gained in health."
"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other sideof the grass-plot?"
"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and underyonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, andthe lofts and granaries for the provender of the factory horses."
"But M. Agricola, will you tell me the secret of all these wonders?"
"In ten minutes you shall understand it all, mademoiselle."
Unfortunately, Angela's curiosity was for a while disappointed. The girlwas now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in thegarden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the CommonDwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the soundof trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of twohorses, approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made hisappearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tailand crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, afterthe fashion of the empire; his uniform glittered with gold embroidery,the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor was passed over his right epaulet,with its four silver stars, and his hat had a broad gold border, andwas crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved forthe marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial andchivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the momentMarshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angelaand Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, spranglightly to the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant inlivery, who followed also on horseback.
"Where shall I wait for your grace?" asked the groom.
"At the end of the avenue," said the marshal.
And, uncovering his head respectfully, he advanced hastily with hishat in his hand, to meet a person whom Angela and Agricola had notpreviously perceived. This person soon appeared at a turn of the avenue;he was an old man, with an energetic, intelligent countenance. He worea very neat blouse, and a cloth cap over his long, white hair. With hishands in his pocket, he was quietly smoking an old meerschaum pipe.
"Good-morning, father," said the marshal, respectfully, as heaffectionately embraced the old workman, who, having tenderly returnedthe pressure, said to him: "Put on your hat, my boy. But how gay weare!" added he, with a smile.
"I have just been to a review, father, close by; and I took theopportunity to call on you as soon as possible."
"But shall I then not see my granddaughters to-day, as I do everySunday?"
"They are coming in a carriage, father, and Dagobert accompanies them."
"But what is the matter? you appear full of thought."
"Indeed, father," said the marshal, with a somewhat agitated air, "Ihave serious things to talk about."
"Come in, then," said the old man, with some anxiety. The marshal andhis father disappeared at the turn of the avenue.
Angela had been struck with amazement at seeing this brilliant General,who was entitled "your grace," salute an old workman in a blouse as hisfather; and, looking at Agricola with a confused air she said to him:"What, M. Agricola! this old workman--"
"Is the father of Marshal Duke de Ligny--the friend--yes, I may say thefriend," added Agricola, with emotion, "of my father, who for twentyyears served under him in war.'
"To be placed so high, and yet to be so respectful and tender to hisfather!" said Angela. "The marshal must have a very noble heart; but whydoes he let his father remain a workman?"
"Because Father Simon will not quit his trade and the factory foranything in the world. He was born a workman, and he will die a workman,though he is the father of a duke and marshal of France."
(29) See Adolphe Bobierre "On Air and Health," Paris, 1844.