The Wandering Jew, Book VII.

E >> Eugene Sue >> The Wandering Jew, Book VII.


"The more one reflects, the more one sees that everything here is really
designed for the happiness of all!" said Angela, in admiration.

"It has not been done without trouble. It was necessary to conquer
prejudices, and break through customs. But see, Mdlle. Angela! here we
are at the kitchen," added the smith, smiling; "is it not as imposing as
that of a barrack or a public school?"

Indeed, the culinary department of the Common Dwelling-house was immense.
All its utensils were bright and clean; and thanks to the marvellous and
economical inventions of modern science (which are always beyond 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 fire on the
hearth, and in the stoves, was fed with half the quantity of fuel that
would have been consumed by each family individually, but the excess of
the caloric sufficed, with the aid of well-constructed tubes, to spread a
mild and equal warmth through all parts of the house. And here also
children, under the direction of two women, rendered numerous services.
Nothing could be more comic than the serious manner in which they
performed their culinary functions; it was the same with the assistance
they gave in the bakehouse, where, at an extraordinary saving in the
price (for they bought flour wholesale), they made an excellent household
bread, composed of pure wheat and rye, so preferable to that whiter
bread, which too often owes its apparent qualities to some deleterious
substance.

"Good-day, Dame Bertrand," said Agricola, gayly, to a worthy matron, who
was gravely contemplating the slow evolution of several spits, worthy of
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 the most
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 admired by this
young lady, who is a new-comer amongst us."

"Admire, my lad, pray admire--and above all take notice, how good these
brats are, and how well they work!" So saying, the matron pointed with
the long ladle, which served her as a sceptre, to some fifteen children
of both sexes, seated round a table, and deeply absorbed in the exercise
of their functions, which consisted in peeling potatoes and picking
herbs.

"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 fare for
to-day. A good vegetable soup, roast beef with potatoes, salad, fruit,
cheese; and for extras, it being Sunday, some currant tarts made by
Mother Denis at the bakehouse, where the oven is heating now."

"What you tell me, Dame Bertrand, gives me a furious appetite," said
Agricola, 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 they
continued their walk, "is the comparison of the insufficient, unwholesome
food of the workmen in our country, with that which is provided here."

"And yet we do not spend more than twenty-five sous a day, for much
better 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 all
presently."

"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, looking
out on the garden, just opposite the fountain!"

It was indeed a vast hall, built in the form of a gallery, with ten
windows opening on the garden. Tables, covered with shining oil-cloth,
were ranged along the walls, so that, in winter, this apartment served in
the evening, after work, as a place of meeting for those who preferred to
pass an hour together, instead of remaining alone or with their families.
Then, in this large hall, well warmed and brilliantly lighted with gas,
some read, some played cards, some talked, and some occupied themselves
with easy work.

"That is not all," said Agricola to the young girl; "I am sure you will
like this apartment still better when I tell you, that on Thursdays and
Sundays we make a ball-room of it, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays a
concert-room."

"Really!"

"Yes," continued the smith, proudly, "we have amongst us musicians, quite
capable of tempting us to dance. Moreover, twice a week, nearly all of us
sing in chorus--men, women, and children. Unfortunately, this week, some
disputes that have arisen in the factory have prevented our concerts."

"So many voices! that must be superb."

"It is very fine, I assure you. M. Hardy has always encouraged this
amusement amongst us, which has, he says--and he is right--so powerful an
effect on the mind and the manners. One winter, he sent for two pupils of
the celebrated Wilhelm, and, since then, our school has made great
progress. I assure you, Mdlle. Angela, that, without flattering
ourselves, there is something truly exciting in the sound of two hundred
voices, singing in chorus some hymn to Labor or Freedom. You shall hear
it, and you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something great and
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 of
joy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure."

"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," replied
Agricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposed
situation?"

"Yes; what is it?"

"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy mode
of life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to have
a good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such a
manner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives two
thirds of what he would have gained in health."

"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other side of
the grass-plot?"

"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and under
yonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, and the
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 girl
was now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in the
garden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the Common
Dwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the sound of
trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of two horses,
approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made his
appearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tail and
crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, after the
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, and was
crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved for the
marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial and
chivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the moment
Marshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angela and
Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, sprang lightly to
the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant in livery, 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 his hat
in his hand, to meet a person whom Angela and Agricola had not previously
perceived. This person soon appeared at a turn of the avenue; he was an
old man, with an energetic, intelligent countenance. He wore a very neat
blouse, and a cloth cap over his long, white hair. With his hands in his
pocket, he was quietly smoking an old meerschaum pipe.

"Good-morning, father," said the marshal, respectfully, as he
affectionately embraced the old workman, who, having tenderly returned
the pressure, said to him: "Put on your hat, my boy. But how gay we are!"
added he, with a smile.

"I have just been to a review, father, close by; and I took the
opportunity to call on you as soon as possible."

"But shall I then not see my granddaughters to-day, as I do every
Sunday?"

"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, "I have
serious things to talk about."

"Come in, then," said the old man, with some anxiety. The marshal and his
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 his
father; 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 the
friend," added Agricola, with emotion, "of my father, who for twenty
years served under him in war.'

"To be placed so high, and yet to be so respectful and tender to his
father!" said Angela. "The marshal must have a very noble heart; but why
does he let his father remain a workman?"

"Because Father Simon will not quit his trade and the factory for
anything 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.




CHAPTER LI

THE SECRET.

When the very natural astonishment which the arrival of Marshal Simon had
caused in Angela had passed away, Agricola said to her with a smile: "I
do not wish to take advantage of this circumstance, Mdlle. Angela, to
spare you the account of the secret, by which all the wonders of our
Common Dwelling-house are brought to pass."

"Oh! I should not have let you forget your promise, M. Agricola,"
answered Angela, "what you have already told me interests me too much for
that."

"Listen, then. M. Hardy, like a true magician, has pronounced three
cabalistic words: ASSOCIATION--COMMUNITY--FRATERNITY. We have understood
the sense of these words, and the wonders you have seen have sprung from
them, to our great advantage; and also, I repeat, to the great advantage
of M. Hardy."

"It is that which appears so extraordinary, M. Agricola."

"Suppose, mademoiselle, that M. Hardy, instead of being what he is, had
only been a cold-hearted speculator, looking merely to the profit, and
saying to himself: 'To make the most of my factory, what is needed? Good
work--great economy in the raw material--full employment of the workman's
time; in a word, cheapness of manufacture, in order to produce
cheaply--excellence of the thing produced, in order to sell dear.'"

"Truly, M. Agricola, no manufacturer could desire more."

"Well, mademoiselle, these conditions might have been fulfilled, as they
have been, but how? Had M. Hardy only been a speculator, he might have
said: 'At a distance from my factory, my workmen might have trouble to
get there: rising earlier, they will sleep less; it is a bad economy to
take from the sleep so necessary to those who toil. When they get feeble,
the work suffers for it; then the inclemency of the seasons makes it
worse; the workman arrives wet, trembling with cold, enervated before he
begins to work--and then, what work!'"

"It is unfortunately but too true, M. Agricola. At Lille, when I reached
the factory, wet through with a cold rain, I used sometimes to shiver all
day long at my work."

"Therefore, Mdlle. Angela, the speculator might say: 'To lodge my workmen
close to the door of my factory would obviate this inconvenience. Let us
make the calculation. In Paris the married workman pays about two hundred
and fifty francs a-year,[30] for one or two wretched rooms and a closet,
dark, small, unhealthy, in a narrow, miserable street; there he lives
pell-mell with his family. What ruined constitutions are the consequence!
and what sort of work can you expect from a feverish and diseased
creature? As for the single men, they pay for a smaller, and quite as
unwholesome lodging, about one hundred and fifty francs a-year. Now, let
us make the addition. I employ one hundred and forty-six married workmen,
who pay together, for their wretched holes, thirty-six thousand five
hundred francs; I employ also one hundred and fifteen bachelors, who pay
at the rate of seventeen thousand two hundred and eighty francs; the
total will amount to about fifty thousand francs per annum, the interest
on a million."'

"Dear me, M. Agricola! what a sum to be produced by uniting all these
little rents together!"

"You see, mademoiselle, that fifty thousand francs a-year is a
millionaire's rent. Now, what says our speculator: To induce our workmen
to leave Paris, I will offer them, enormous advantages. I will reduce
their rent one-half, and, instead of small, unwholesome rooms, they shall
have large, airy apartments, well-warmed and lighted, at a trifling
charge. Thus, one hundred and forty-six families, paying me only one
hundred and twenty-five francs a-year, and one hundred and fifteen
bachelors, seventy-five francs, I shall have a total of twenty-six to
twenty-seven thousand francs. Now, a building large enough to hold all
these people would cost me at most five hundred thousand francs.[31] I
shall then have invested my money at five per cent at the least, and with
perfect security, since the wages is a guarantee for the payment of the
rent.'"

"Ah, M. Agricola! I begin to understand how it may sometimes be
advantageous to do good, even in a pecuniary sense."

"And I am almost certain, mademoiselle, that, in the long run, affairs
conducted with uprightness and honesty turn out well. But to return to
our speculator. 'Here,' will he say, 'are my workmen, living close to my
factory, well lodged, well warmed, and arriving always fresh at their
work. That is not all; the English workman who eats good beef, and drinks
good beer, does twice as much, in the same time, as the French workman,[32]
reduced to a detestable kind of food, rather weakening than the reverse,
thanks to the poisonous adulteration of the articles he consumes. My
workmen will then labor much better, if they eat much better. How shall I
manage it without loss? Now I think of it, what is the food in barracks,
schools, even prisons? Is it not the union of individual resources which
procures an amount of comfort impossible to realize without such an
association? Now, if my two hundred and sixty workmen, instead of cooking
two hundred and sixty detestable dinners, were to unite to prepare one
good dinner for all of them, which might be done, thanks to the savings
of all sorts that would ensue, what an advantage for me and them! Two or
three women, aided by children, would suffice to make ready the daily
repasts; instead of buying wood and charcoal in fractions,[33] and so
paying for it double its value, the association of my workmen would, upon
my security (their wages would be an efficient security for me in
return), lay in their own stock of wood, flour, butter, oil, wine, etc.,
all which they would procure directly from the producers. Thus, they
would pay three or four sous for a bottle of pure wholesome wine, instead
of paying twelve or fifteen sous for poison. Every week the association
would buy a whole ox, and some sheep, and the women would make bread, as
in the country. Finally, with these resources, and order, and economy, my
workmen may have wholesome, agreeable, and sufficient food, for from
twenty to twenty-five sous a day.'"

"Ah! this explains it, M. Agricola."

"It is not all, mademoiselle. Our cool-headed speculator would continue:
'Here are my workmen well lodged, well warmed, well fed, with a saving of
at least half; why should they not also be warmly clad? Their health will
then have every chance of being good, and health is labor. The
association will buy wholesale, and at the manufacturing price (still
upon my security, secured to me by their wages), warm, good, strong
materials, which a portion of the workmen's wives will be able to make
into clothes as well as any tailor. Finally, the consumption of caps and
shoes being considerable, the association will obtain them at a great
reduction in price.' Well, Mdlle. Angela! what do you say to our
speculator?"

"I say, M. Agricola," answered the young girl; with ingenuous admiration,
"that it is almost incredible, and yet so simple!"

"No doubt, nothing is more simple than the good and beautiful, and yet we
think of it so seldom. Observe, that our man has only been speaking with
a view to his own interest--only considering the material side of the
question--reckoning for nothing the habit of fraternity and mutual aid,
which inevitably springs from living together in common--not reflecting
that a better mode of life improves and softens the character of man--not
thinking of the support and instruction which the strong owe to the
weak--not acknowledging, in fine, that the honest, active, and
industrious man has a positive right to demand employment from society,
and wages proportionate to the wants of his condition. No, our speculator
only thinks of the gross profits; and yet, you see, he invests his money
in buildings at five per cent., and finds the greatest advantages in the
material comfort of his workmen."

"It is true, M. Agricola."

"And what will you say, mademoiselle, when I prove to you that our
speculator finds also a great advantage in giving to his workmen, in
addition to their regular wages, a proportionate share of his profits?"

"That appears to me more difficult to prove, M. Agricola."

"Yet I will convince you of it in a few minutes."

Thus conversing, Angela and Agricola had reached the garden-gate of the
Common Dwelling-house. An elderly woman, dressed plainly, but with care
and neatness, approached Agricola, and asked him: "Has M. Hardy returned
to the factory, sir?"

"No, madame; but we expect him hourly."

"To-day, perhaps?"

"To-day or to-morrow, madame."

"You cannot tell me at what hour he will be here?"

"I do not think it is known, madame, but the porter of the factory, who
also belongs to M. Hardy's private house, may, perhaps, be able to inform
you."

"I thank you, sir."

"Quite welcome, madame."

"M. Agricola," said Angela, when the woman who had just questioned him
was gone, "did you remark that this lady was very pale and agitated?"

"I noticed it as you did, mademoiselle; I thought I saw tears standing in
her eyes."

"Yes, she seemed to have been crying. Poor woman! perhaps she came to ask
assistance of M. Hardy. But what ails you, M. Agricola? You appear quite
pensive."

Agricola had a vague presentiment that the visit of this elderly woman
with so sad a countenance, had some connection with the adventure of the
young and pretty lady, who, three days before had come all agitated and
in tears to inquire after M. Hardy, and who had learned--perhaps too
late--that she was watched and followed.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle," said Agricola to Angela; "but the presence of
this old lady reminded me of a circumstance, which, unfortunately, I
cannot tell you, for it is a secret that does not belong to me alone."

"Oh! do not trouble yourself, M. Agricola," answered the young girl, with
a smile; "I am not inquisitive, and what we were talking of before
interests me so much, that I do not wish to hear you speak of anything
else."

"Well, then mademoiselle, I will say a few words more, and you will be as
well informed as I am of the secrets of our association."

"I am listening, M. Agricola."

"Let us still keep in view the speculator from mere interest. 'Here are
my workmen, says he, 'in the best possible condition to do a great deal
of work. Now what is to be done to obtain large profits? Produce cheaply,
and sell dear. But there will be no cheapness, without economy in the use
of the raw material, perfection of the manufacturing process, and
celerity of labor. Now, in spite of all my vigilance, how am I to prevent
my workmen from wasting the materials? How am I to induce them, each in
his own province, to seek for the most simple and least irksome
processes?"

"True, M. Agricola; how is that to be done?"

"'And that is not all,' says our man; 'to sell my produce at high prices,
it should be irreproachable, excellent. My workmen do pretty well; but
that is not enough. I want them to produce masterpieces.'"

"But, M. Agricola, when they have once performed the task set them what
interest have workmen to give themselves a great deal of trouble to
produce masterpieces?"

"There it is, Mdlle. Angela; what interest have they? Therefore, our
speculator soon says to himself: 'That my workmen may have an interest to
be economical in the use of the materials, an interest to employ their
time well, an interest to invent new and better manufacturing processes,
an interest to send out of their hands nothing but masterpieces--I must
give them an interest in the profits earned by their economy, activity,
zeal and skill. The better they manufacture, the better I shall sell, and
the larger will be their gain and mine also.'"

"Oh! now I understand, M. Agricola."

"And our speculator would make a good speculation. Before he was
interested, the workman said: 'What does it matter to me, that I do more
or do better in the course of the day? What shall I gain by it? Nothing.
Well, then, little work for little wages. But now, on the contrary (he
says), I have an interest in displaying zeal and economy. All is changed.
I redouble my activity, and strive to excel the others. If a comrade is
lazy, and likely to do harm to the factory, I have the right to say to
him: 'Mate, we all suffer more or less from your laziness, and from the
injury you are doing the common weal.'"

"And then, M. Agricola, with what ardor, courage, and hope, you must set
to work!"

"That is what our speculator counts on; and he may say to himself,
further: 'Treasures of experience and practical wisdom are often buried
in workshops, for want of goodwill, opportunity, or encouragement.
Excellent workmen, instead of making all the improvements in their power,
follow with indifference the old jog-trot. What a pity! for an
intelligent man, occupied all his life with some special employment, must
discover, in the long run, a thousand ways of doing his work better and
quicker. I will form, therefore, a sort of consulting committee; I will
summon to it my foremen and my most skillful workmen. Our interest is now
the same. Light will necessarily spring from this centre of practical
intelligence.' Now, the speculator is not deceived in this, and soon
struck with the incredible resources, the thousand new, ingenious,
perfect inventions suddenly revealed by his workmen, 'Why' he exclaims,
'if you knew this, did you not tell it before? What for the last ten
years has cost me a hundred francs to make, would have cost me only
fifty, without reckoning an enormous saving of time.' 'Sir,' answers the
workman, who is not more stupid than others, 'what interest had I, that
you should effect a saving of fifty per cent? None. But now it is
different. You give me, besides my wages, a share in your profits; you
raise me in my own esteem, by consulting my experience and knowledge.
Instead of treating me as an inferior being, you enter into communion
with me. It is my interest, it is my duty, to tell you all I know, and to
try to acquire more.' And thus it is, Mdlle. Angela, that the speculator
can organize his establishment, so as to shame his oppositionists, and
provoke their envy. Now if, instead of a cold hearted calculator, we tape
a man who unites with the knowledge of these facts the tender and
generous sympathies of an evangelical heart, and the elevation of a
superior mind, he will extend his ardent solicitude; not only to the
material comfort, but to the moral emancipation, of his workmen. Seeking
everywhere every possible means to develop their intelligence, to improve
their hearts, and strong in the authority acquired by his beneficence,
feeling that he on whom depends the happiness or the misery of three
hundred human creatures has also the care of souls, he will be the guide
of those whom he no longer calls his workmen, but his brothers, in a
straightforward and noble path, and will try to create in them the taste
for knowledge and art, which will render them happy and proud of a
condition of life that is often accepted by others with tears and curses
of despair. Well, Mdlle. Angela, such a man is--but, see! he could not
arrive amongst us except in the middle of a blessing. There he is--there
is M. Hardy!"