DIFFICULTIES OF ENGLISH PEOPLE ABROAD.
It was part of my duty during a chaplaincy of sixteen years in Paris to
help our fellow country people, who from one cause or another got into
difficulty.
Sometimes it was their own fault, and similar conduct would have brought
a like result at home. But often these difficulties arose from ignorance
of the language, and from an extraordinary disregard of French law. Too
often the Englishman not only expects his own language to be spoken, but
also the laws of his own country to prevail in a foreign land.
Not long after I commenced work in Paris I received the following
telegram, addressed to
“Le Pasteur Eglise Protestante.—Please come as soon as
possible to the Depot—Préfecture de Police—to a member of your
congregation who seeks your help at once.”
I lost no time in going down, and found that the writer—an English
governess—had, in a moment of temptation, stolen a pair of gloves at the
Magasin du Louvre. I believe it was a first offence. I did all I could
to console her, but was unable to get her off, and she had to undergo a
term of six days’ imprisonment. I regret to say that this instance of
“Kleptomania” was by no means singular. The system at the larger shops
in Paris lends itself to pilfering by the dishonest, as the goods are
displayed in such a way that it seems easy to steal. The manager of the
Louvre shop told me that they had on an average twelve arrests a day.
It is not generally known that a large number of detectives are always
employed, who are continually on the watch. There was one sad case of a
lady who had come to Paris to place her daughter in a school, and who
had ample means, and yet took some gloves from the same establishment.
With considerable difficulty she was released upon the payment of 600
francs (£24), a good price for a pair of gloves. One other case in which
I was successful in obtaining the release of a woman who was, I believe,
innocent, but in a moment of thoughtlessness, put over her arm a covering
for a child’s bed. I had known her for a long time; she was the mother
of a large family, all well brought up. She assured me she had intended
to pay for it, but no attendant being near she went to another part of
the shop with the article in question, when she was arrested, and invited
to appear in court to answer to the charge. I wrote to the Judge and
told him what I knew about her, and he kindly gave her the benefit of
the doubt. Her husband (a waiter) was away in Germany, and had she been
imprisoned it would have been the ruin of her family.
By the kindness of the late Earl of Lytton, I obtained a pass enabling
me to visit any of the prisons in Paris, where English people might be
confined. Many of the cases were very sad, and especially where the
prisoners could not speak French, as this added to the misery of their
lot. I recall one case, which interested me much. It was that of a young
man who had come to visit Paris, and like so many others, had been led
where he soon got into difficulty.
He came with a considerable sum of money and went one evening to the
“Moulin Rouge”—which at that time was of questionable repute. (It is said
to be under better management now.)
He was relieved of his purse, which contained a 1,000 franc note, beside
some coins. He had left only a 100 franc note in his hotel, and went the
next morning to the bank to get it changed—very much irritated, as he
said, with the French for having stolen his money! At the bank he saw a
French gentleman counting some notes, and he snatched a number of them
and ran away. He was soon arrested and was sent to prison for some years.
He assured me it was his first offence, and that he had no intention of
stealing when he went to the bank.
On another occasion I unwittingly broke the prison rules. An aged
Englishman had been imprisoned for picking pockets on the race course.
He said his wife did not know what had happened, and begged me to give
him something to buy paper and stamps. I gave him a franc, but as I was
leaving the prison an official came up and handed me the franc, telling
me I had broken the rule. They had been watching me while I was locked in
the cell, and made the poor man give up the money.
Ignorance of the language was frequently the cause of difficulty. One
morning a nurse came to the vestry in the Rue d’Aguesseau, and when I
enquired her business, said, “Why, I am lost, and have been walking the
streets all night.” She then told me she arrived at the Gare St. Lazare
the previous evening, and was driven by the cabman to an address near,
which she had now forgotten. She went out to post a letter, and must have
taken a wrong turning, and so was soon lost. She walked about all night,
and had only just found an English-speaking person, who had directed her
to the Church. I gathered from her description where the Home was, and
sent her up with my Vestry Clerk.
On another occasion a girl was brought to me in great distress. She told
me she had started from England on the previous day to visit a French
friend of her mother’s. She had the address written on a piece of paper,
which she was instructed to give to the cabman, as she did not speak
French.
She travelled by the night boat to Calais. When she arrived at the Gare
du Nord, she could not find the paper, and, staying to look among her
parcels, the English travellers all left. She got out of the train and
did not know what to do; she spoke to a porter who did not understand
her, and eventually left the station. This was about 7 a.m. She walked
about the streets until late in the afternoon, when she was heard near
the Madeleine trying to explain to a policeman. The Englishman who heard
her brought her to me, and I sent her back the next day to England, as I
failed to discover her friend’s name in any directory.
On another occasion I received a telegram from a lady in Ireland asking
me to meet her daughter that evening at the Gare St. Lazare, who was
going to a situation as governess, which she had obtained through an
advertisement. I met the girl, and took her to the address she gave. It
was a small wine shop, and altogether unsuited to her, and would, I fear,
have been a very dangerous position.
I persuaded her to go to the excellent G.F.S. Lodge, where she was most
kindly received, and eventually a good position was found for her.
The above are illustrations of many like cases which were brought before
me.
More serious cases are illustrated by the following telegram:
“Please remove Miss X⸺ from 14 rue ⸺ at once; very urgent,
letter follows.”⸺
These requests often involved considerable time and trouble, and the
laying aside for the time of all other work.
One morning I received a request from the manager of one of the leading
hotels to call as soon as possible. I went down and was told that an
English girl had been left there by a “gentleman,” and was in great
distress.
I found that she had left her home two or three days previously on the
promise of marriage, and was now left without means, and was afraid to
communicate with her parents.
I placed her in a room in a smaller hotel, and in the meantime wrote to
the father. However, before he received my letter he had started for
Paris, having heard his daughter was there, and came to see me in great
anxiety about his child. His relief and astonishment were remarkable when
I told him I knew the whereabouts of his daughter. A reconciliation was
effected, and the girl was taken home.
One of the most remarkable illustrations of the difficulties English
people sometimes get into abroad is the following:
Early one morning (6 a.m.) I was sent for to visit two young ladies in a
small hotel, who were said to have become insane.
I went down and found one of the sisters on the ground floor holding the
door leading to the staircase, and not allowing anyone to pass. She would
answer no question, nor permit me to pass to see her sister. With some
difficulty I obtained access to the room where the sister was, by another
way, but found her in a like state, and unwilling to answer any question,
or to give the address of any relative. The difficulty was that the
proprietor of the hotel wished to have them removed at once to an asylum,
which I felt would only aggravate the malady from which they suffered. I
called in an English doctor (since passed away) who most kindly helped,
and forbade the proprietor to have them removed. By searching amongst the
papers in their room I discovered an address in London, and telegraphed
for their relatives to come at once. My wife and I had a trying
experience all that night—we sat up with the girls, one of whom had to be
fastened to the bed, having become violent. She was shouting all night,
and gave a great deal of trouble.
The relatives arrived the next morning, and the necessary steps were
taken for their removal. It turned out that these young ladies had been
dabbling in hypnotism, and had spent the greater part of the day previous
to their illness with some “professor.” One died and the other only
recovered after a long illness.
[Illustration: BRITISH CONSUL-GENERAL.]
We frequently had to help English artists connected with circuses, shows,
etc., who got stranded in France. One morning a smart-looking person
called at the house and told me she had a number of performing dogs held
at the Gare de Lyon because of some payment demanded, which she could
not meet. If she could not get the dogs she would be ruined. By the kind
help of the British Charitable Fund I was able to get the dogs set free.
On another occasion, when I went down to service, I found in the Church
some fifty ballet girls waiting to see me. They had been brought over to
play in an exhibition in Paris, but the proprietor having failed, the
light was cut off and the place closed. They had no means to get back to
England. By the kindness of the British Consul, and again by the help of
the British Charitable Fund, these girls were all sent back, and very
grateful they were. Not knowing the language they were indeed “strangers
in a strange land.” Whenever companies of English girls came over to
perform in theatre or music hall, I tried to get opportunities to address
them; but it was not an easy part of one’s duty.
Difficulties owing to mixed marriages frequently arose. It cannot be too
often explained that there is no difficulty in two English people being
married abroad, providing there is no impediment such as would prevent
the marriage at home. Civil marriage at the British Consulate should
first take place, and the religious ceremony can follow. But in the
case of mixed marriages it is absolutely necessary that the contracting
parties should satisfy French law, and first be civilly married at the
Mairie. A marriage (French and English) in England is not valid in France
unless the French Consul in England has first performed the civil rite.
Much distress has been caused by not obeying the law. I will give but
one instance, though I might give many. It is an important one, as
questions were asked in the House of Commons about it, and a statement as
to the law sent broadcast to the Clergy of England. The case is this:
Madame X⸺, an English woman, came to live in Paris. She was a widow
with children. She obtained, through my instrumentality, a position as
secretary. After a time her employer proposed marriage. He told her,
however, that his parents would not give their consent (which in France
is a bar to marriage), and proposed that they should go to England, and
be married in Church. They went, and after complying with the law as
to residence, were married in London. When they returned to Paris the
husband refused to let his wife live in his house, but told her to remain
in her own flat. When she pressed him on the subject his only reply was,
“I suppose you know that the English marriage is not valid in France.”
She came to see me broken-hearted. I did all I could for her, but it
was useless. The husband only laughed at me. The case was put into the
hand of a solicitor, and brought before the French courts, but the
judgment was given against the wife. The Judge told her she ought to have
been more careful to ascertain the law. Thus she is legally married in
England, but not in France, while her husband is free to marry whom he
may choose without hindrance.
If, however, he came to England, he would be legally married to the woman
he now repudiates. I have stated this case in full as it may be a warning
to others, though much more care is now taken than was formerly the case.
I laid the whole case before the late Bishop of London (Dr. Creighton)
who wrote:
“The case you bring before me is a very sad one, but I do
not see what can be done either to obtain redress or to
prevent such cases occurring in the future. Marriage is a
contract regulated by law; if anyone marries a foreigner
they ought to take legal advice about the necessary steps
to legalize their marriage. I do not see who is to protect
them except themselves. Our Government cannot ask the French
Government to recognize as binding in France all marriages
solemnized in England. This would open a door to evasion of
the French law. The difficulty in these cases arises from
the belief that marriage is a purely ecclesiastical matter,
and that ecclesiastical procedure is universally recognized.
Really marriage is a civil contract which in England the
clergy are authorised to perform by the State. To this in
their ecclesiastical capacity they add a religious service.
People have mixed these two together in their own minds with
disastrous results.”
The extraordinary tangles into which English people sometimes get from
ignorance—wilful or otherwise—of the marriage law, is illustrated by the
following remarkable case which came under my notice. A French working
man living in London married an English woman in his Parish Church. He
could not legalise the marriage at the French Consulate because he had
not the consent of his parents. This consent is generally necessary for
any legal marriage of French people, whatever their age may be. One can
easily see the reason for this requirement when the law of inheritance is
taken into consideration.
No French father can “cut his son off with a shilling,” as in England.
They must leave their money to their children, and the younger benefit
equally with the elder. This is the reason the realization of property
must take place on the death of anyone. It is, however, generally
arranged in the family, and does not necessarily come before the public.
The couple of our story did not possess any property, being working
people. The husband had lived in England from childhood, and consequently
had not done his military service. When the question arose as to the
legality of his marriage, he promised he would not return to France.
While living in England the marriage was, of course, perfectly in order,
but the day came when the husband wished to go back to his own country,
and he went to Paris with his wife and two children. Needless to say, the
man was at once arrested for his military service. It is extraordinary to
English minds to see how quickly the arrival of any man in France who is
liable for military service is noted by the Government officials, and he
receives a summons to join his regiment at once.
While serving three years (or two as it is now) in the army, a soldier
is not allowed to marry, and so X’s wife was without a legal husband,
and any means of subsistence. She took her two children and went to
live with her father and mother-in-law, who became very fond of her and
the grandchildren. We helped her for a time with money and work, and I
expect she provided her English made husband with the pocket money for
tobacco, etc., so much needed by the French soldier. Towards the end of
the three years, preparations were made to legalize the marriage in
France, the parents giving their consent willingly. When, however, the
time came, and it only remained to give notice at the Mairie of the
intended marriage, X refused to re-marry his wife, and so legalize her
claim to the title in France. It was found that he had taken up with
another woman better looking than his wife, who had no claim to beauty,
and whose hard work to support the children during this time had rendered
less attractive. X’s father and mother were furious with him and offered
to adopt the children. Matters were in this condition, when another
misfortune fell upon this poor woman. She took smallpox. The hospital
for this terrible disease is one of the worst managed in Paris, and the
hardships of the unfortunate patients are often very great. When the poor
soul came out she returned to the only home she had—the tiny flat of her
father-in-law—and was equal to very little work. The grandparents had
cared for the children, but they were also poor, and found it difficult
to make ends meet. We were almost in despair as to how to help her, as
it was a large order to undertake the whole family. The solution of the
whole matter would hardly be imagined by one brought up in England. Mrs.
X. one day came to me at the vestry in the Rue d’Aguesseau, and said she
was going to marry a Frenchman, who was not only willing to support her
and the children, but would adopt and legalize them as his own. This
can be done in France, and the real father has then no claim to them
whatever. I spoke to her very seriously, and told her that her lawful
husband being alive, she would be committing bigamy, and that I could
have nothing whatever to do with such an arrangement. I pointed out to
her that she would be the legal wife of one man in England and another
in France; that in England she would be the lawful wife of the first
man, while English law would not only refuse to recognise this second
so-called marriage, but could prosecute her for bigamy.
Nothing I could say had any effect upon her, the only thing she would say
was “I will never go back to England.”
She has now gone through the French “marriage” at the Mairie, and
is happy. It solved our difficulty as to the support of herself and
children, but the complication in which she has involved herself and the
two children is one of the most extraordinary I met with.
Occasionally there were very sad circumstances attending the death of
lonely English people in Paris. At the close of the Boer war, an English
soldier who had fought in South Africa died in the Beaujon Hospital. We
could not discover how he had wandered to Paris, or get from him any
information as to relatives.
The only persons present at the grave were myself and the vestry clerk.
Just as the body was being lowered into the grave the clerk placed upon
the coffin a small British flag.
And here I should like to bear testimony to the devoted work of Mr.
Wicker. His father was Vestry Clerk before him for many years—through
nearly the whole of the long ministry of Dr. Forbes. When he died I
appointed his son. Brought up in Paris and speaking both languages, and
thoroughly in earnest in his work, his services are invaluable to the
Chaplain.
Another sad case was that of a girl named X⸺, who had run away from home
four years before her death with the son of a ship builder, who deserted
her two days before her end. The parents had lost sight of her, and were
too late to see her alive. The funeral was most distressing. The number
of English people “under a cloud” who bury themselves in Paris is not
small, and the chaplain has frequently very sad cases with which to deal.
Of late years, since the French have taken so kindly to “afternoon teas,”
English people have been tempted to open tea shops, without having
carefully considered the difficulty and expense of carrying on a business
in a foreign land. Several came to grief during my sojourn in Paris.
One of the saddest cases, which may prove a warning to others who have
had similar ideas, is the following:
In the year ⸺ two ladies, daughters of an English clergyman, came to
Paris and opened a tea shop. For a time they did fairly well, and their
business fell off chiefly owing to a French shop being opened in the
neighbourhood. Things got so bad that they suddenly closed the shop and
left for England.
On the way, under mental excitement, one of the sisters jumped from the
train and was seriously injured. As a report was spread that only one
of the sisters had left, I went down with the officials and forced the
establishment, expecting to find the other sister dead. The report,
however, proved to be false, for both had left. It was a sad ending to a
foolish venture.
One Sunday evening as I was returning from Church, I was overheard
speaking English, and two young men stopped me. They said that being out
of work in England, they had realized their savings and come to Paris,
with the idea of selling fruit in the streets. I asked them if they
spoke the language, and they said “not a word,” and they were in great
difficulty to know what to do, when they heard me speaking English and
stopped me. We got them back to England the next day.
It was extraordinary the number of English working people that turned up
time after time, with no knowledge of French, expecting to get work, and
had to go—or be sent—back, wiser men.
Owing to the great increase in motor cars, the streets of Paris are
particularly dangerous for pedestrians, and accidents are of almost daily
occurrence. A peculiarly sad case was the following:
Two sisters, working girls (English), lived together in the Rue ⸺. They
worked in different establishments, but generally met near the Madeleine
after working hours and went home together. On this occasion one sister
waited near the trysting place, but her sister did not meet her. She
noticed a crowd round a neighbouring chemist’s, but did not enquire what
had happened, and went home.
It turned out that it was her sister who had been carried into the
pharmacy to die. Standing on the “island of safety” opposite the
Madeleine, her dress had been caught by a passing motor, and she had been
dragged under it and killed. These two girls were supporting an aged
mother in England.
Another fatal accident which gave me a curious experience was that of
Madame J⸺, who was run over by a cab and killed. In her pocket was
found a paper with my name and address written upon it. She was an
Englishwoman, widow of a Frenchman, and used to earn her living by
selling lace on commission. After the accident she was taken to the
Morgue. At that time this gruesome institution was partly open to the
public, and some of the bodies—not identified—were exposed upon slabs
behind glass, others were kept in boxes in another part until buried. The
authorities sent for me, to see if I could identify the body of this poor
woman, which I was able to do—but I shall never forget the horror of the
scene. The poor body was in a box without covering, and so disfigured
that I had some difficulty in convincing myself that it was the person I
expected. I was glad to arrange for her decent burial.
One of the most melancholy of English suicides, of which, alas, there are
many, was that of Colonel Hector Macdonald, in March, 1903.
He was staying at the Hotel Regina in the Rue de Rivoli, and apparently
after reading the “New York Herald,” in which there was a paragraph
stating that grave charges had been made public against him, he shot
himself. After the necessary formalities the body was removed to the
Embassy Church in the Rue d’Aguesseau before removal to Scotland. Colonel
Macdonald was a large man, and there being a double coffin, we were
unable to lower the body into the mortuary, and this gave rise to a
report that sufficient reverence was not shown—a report which was without
any foundation.
Many members of the Scotch colony in Paris visited the Church and placed
flowers on the coffin, and someone unknown sent a bunch of heather from
Scotland for a like purpose. It was a sad ending to the life of a brave
soldier.