DEACONESSES IN PARIS.
When in Paris we visited the deaconess establishment on the Rue de
Reuilly, and had the pleasure, ever to be remembered, of seeing the
institution in all its workings under the guidance of Mademoiselle Sara
Monod, the daughter of Adolphe Monod; members of a family that have been
Protestants of the Protestants in the annals of France. We examined with
some degree of thoroughness the different departments, and saw them in
the busy working hours, when the full activities of the great
establishment were in exercise.
In addition to the information and reports then secured I am under
further obligation to Mademoiselle Monod for other material lately
received, among which is a pamphlet entitled _Une Visite à la Maison de
Diaconesses_, by Madame W. Monod, "the worthy daughter of one of the
founders, and the worthy wife of one of the present chaplains of the
institution." I have translated freely from this in the following pages,
as it is pervaded by a tone of intimate knowledge, and nothing can take
the place of the long years of close personal relation that make this
little book so fresh and attractive in its recital.
The institution is situated on the outskirts of the Faubourg St.
Antoine, upon an elevation, where the view in one direction is limited
by Mont St. Geneviève, and on the other embraces a large territory
intersected by the windings of the Seine and by lines of railroad. The
space is thickly dotted by the high chimneys of manufactories and
massive constructions of various forms. A great pile of buildings which
fronts upon the street forms one of the sides of the court within; two
long wings extend at right angles, which seem to have been built at
different intervals of time. That on the right ends with the
penitentiary, or house of correction; the left wing terminates more
modestly at the garden entrance; while farther, at the extreme portion
of the grounds, still to the left, rises the hospital, standing apart
from the rest. The whole establishment, including the gardens, has an
extent of fifty-five hundred square meters.
In the little room at the entrance, where the _concierge_ is usually
found in these French houses, sits one of the sisters, surrounded by
bell-cords and tubes and bells which are constantly in use, bringing
messages to and fro in all directions. A sister is always on duty,
morning, afternoon, and at night when it is necessary, responding with
discreet politeness to the inquiries made. Adjoining are the little
reception rooms, where comers and goers are met, and the consulting-room
of the distinguished oculist, who twice a week gives gratuitously his
valuable services. Then come the office and reception-room of the
chaplain of the house, followed by the little "prophet's chamber,"
occupied by the former directress when she returns upon visits which her
age and poor health render only too infrequent.
What the French call the "_économat_" or business office, next demands
our attention. A dozen registers admirably kept, portfolios of all
kinds, and numberless papers are arranged upon different shelves. The
sister in charge notes in her journal every entrance and every
departure, and all the journeys and leaves of absence of the sisters. In
a safe she has the necessary money for current expenses, the rest being
deposited in the bank. She provides the stores, examines the accounts of
the pharmacy and the kitchen, pays the salaried employees, gives or
sends to each deaconess the modest sum allowed her for personal needs,
and transacts the daily business of the house. She must also every
month hand in three reports--one to the Prefect of Police, another to
the Minister of the Interior, and the third to the Minister of Finance,
giving detailed statistics concerning the age, occupation, and progress
of her _protégés_. "How many know how to read? How many to read and
write? How many to read, write, and cipher? What progress has been made
since the last report?" These are some of the questions she has to
answer; and, meanwhile, if a crowd of little children come in, she turns
from her writing and calculations and plays with them as if she had
nothing else to do.
Let us see where these children come from. Here is the "Salle d'Asile,"
as it is called, with its benches and chairs for the little ones, maps
and historical pictures suspended upon the walls, slates and globes, and
all the belongings of a school-room. The sister who has directed this
school for thirty-five years has seen sons and daughters succeed fathers
and mothers. More than nineteen hundred children have passed through her
hands. With what pride she showed us the copy-books, and pointed out
some particularly good compositions. Hers was no perfunctory task; a
mother could not have displayed greater interest in her children. The
number of pupils varies from one hundred and ten to one hundred and
thirty, a little less than half of them being Catholics. All kinds of
primary instruction are given, including gymnastics, singing, and
marching. Bible stories hold an important place in this elementary
teaching, even those which are sometimes considered to be beyond the
reach of children; for there is nothing in any other book to take their
place. It is useless to add that not only lessons are given, but shoes,
aprons, and garments of all kinds, some of the little ones being clothed
from head to foot by the institution. Every day soup is distributed,
ostensibly to the poor and the ill-nourished, but practically partaken
of by all. Even during the siege of Paris the soup continued to appear.
It gradually became less substantial, it is true, but still it was soup.
From four to six o'clock the mothers and older sisters and brothers, or
perhaps some old lady who has been engaged to have the care of several
children, come to take the little ones home. The influence of these
children is felt beyond the school-room; it is a visible, constant
force. Such a little girl has persuaded her grandmother not to work on
Sundays. Another asks for a book that her father can read aloud to the
family. And similar instances could be multiplied; they are always to be
obtained where loving Christian hearts are interested in children, and
when they remember that fine saying of Jacqueline Pascal; "_Parler à
Dieu des petites âmes plus qu' aux petites âmes de Dieu._"[50]
There used formerly to be attached to this a "_Crèche_," where a mother
could bring her babe when she went to work in the morning, and could
come for it at night. But the government has now started a day-home for
this district of the city, so this part of the work of the deaconesses
has been discontinued.
Passing by the vegetable garden, which is also a pleasure garden for the
sick and infirm, we come to the hospital. This was opened in September,
1873, and can accommodate sixty to seventy patients. There are two large
wards for women, one for children, a dormitory for aged women, and rooms
with one, two, and three beds. All are perfectly heated, lighted, and
ventilated. The medical inspector visits the house every month, and
gives it due praise for meeting every condition of modern medical
science.
A committee of ladies takes the hospital as an especial object of its
care. They have organized a system of patronage, by which beds are
furnished poor patients at a low rate, in some cases gratuitously.
Fifteen subscribers give each two francs, or forty cents, a month; the
sick man or his patron pays a franc a day, to which the Deaconess Home
adds also a franc daily. These three francs represent the bare expenses
of a hospital bed. Of course, sixty cents a day is far from meeting the
entire cost of rent, food, baths, medicine, and service; but those
patients who have been accustomed to a certain degree of comfort in
life, when paying three francs, are freed from the painful impression of
receiving charity.
Many of the patients, when sent forth from the hospital, are directed to
the Convalescents' Home, at Passy. This is an inestimable benefit; what
could this poor servant do, whose strength is not yet sufficient to
undertake fatiguing labor? Or this mother of a family, who would
certainly fall ill again if obliged to resume the heavy burden of
housekeeping, accompanied by privations and wearing economies, were it
not for the home at Passy? Such homes of rest and convalescence are a
necessity in connection with every well-equipped deaconess institution.
The pharmacy is in the charge of a deaconess trained especially for her
duties. A deaconess director, several nurse deaconesses and
probationers, with one or two aged women, constitute the working force
of the hospital outside of the physicians. So many denominational
hospitals are now arising in America that the arrangement of hospitals
under the care of deaconesses in Germany, France, and England, cannot
fail to have interest for us.
There are no nurses like the deaconesses. Other nurses, however well
prepared in the best of training-schools, do not have the same high
motive that lifts the service onto the plane of religious duty, where
the question of self-interest is wholly lost sight of. It was the
perception of this truth that led the authorities of the German Hospital
in Philadelphia to send to Germany for deaconesses as nurses, and that
has brought about the erection of the magnificent Mary J. Drexel Home
for Deaconesses.
But let us return to Paris and our examination of the home on the Rue de
Reuilly. Leaving the hospital, and turning in the opposite direction
from that to which we came, we are at the house of correction. Bars of
iron before the windows apprise us of the character of the building.
There are two divisions of inmates; the one in which the discipline is
more rigid is called the _retenue_. Those placed here are generally
between fourteen and twenty-one years of age, although occasionally a
child of precocious depravity is met with, who has to be separated from
those under less restriction even at ten years of age. The
_disciplinaire_ is the division of milder restraint. The twenty-five or
twenty-six places in each of the two divisions are ordinarily applied
for in advance. Pastor Louis Valette said: "We shall not have room
enough until we have too much room."
There are three classes of inmates: those who are put here by their
parents for insubordination or other grave faults; those who are sent
here by order of a judge of the court for a limited period, and those
who are recognized guilty of a misdemeanor, but are acquitted on account
of their age, and must remain a certain time, sometimes until they have
attained their majority, in houses of correction and education.
The Minister of the Interior pays twelve cents a day for pupils of the
third class; the Prefect of Police four hundred dollars a year for those
of the second class, whatever their number, only the establishment is
bound to receive them at any time and at any hour.
There is a system of rewards, to promote good behavior, and those who
profit by it can accumulate a small sum of money, sometimes amounting to
sixteen or eighteen dollars, to have when they go out from here. In
other cases there is a large indebtedness on the opposite side, which
can never be collected.
The days are occupied in household work, washing, ironing, and sewing,
and two hours of schooling. When the nature of the work will permit,
instructive books are read aloud, or the deaconesses give pleasant talks
on different subjects that will keep the thoughts of the workers busy,
and give them helpful ideas to store away in their minds. As we went
about in the sewing-classes, we noticed that the time was invariably
utilized in some way that was profitable to the girls. Most of them are
pitiably ignorant of even the commonest knowledge demanded in life.
There are separate court-yards for the recreations of the two divisions.
The girls of the _disciplinaire_ are sometimes taken outside the
institution for walks; those of the _retenue_, never. The work in this
last division is especially difficult, and requires the utmost patience
and love. These poor girls have to be watched carefully, and kept
isolated from one another. Some are greatly influenced by the atmosphere
of the place, the gentle, firm kindness of the sisters, and the
restriction they receive. Others go out to take up again the old life of
immorality, and are dragged away into the meshes of sin, finding their
place, after brief delay, in the wards of a hospital, or sometimes a
suicide's grave. It is a singular fact that the numerical appreciation
of those influenced by this school of reform is precisely the same as
that given in the report of the similar work at Kaiserswerth, although
the two reports have no connection with one another, and one in no wise
supposes the other. Thirty-three years ago one of the founders of the
institution, Pastor Valette, said in answer to a question as to the
amount of good accomplished, "Sixteen years ago this question came to my
ears, and I stated as a principle that one cannot and ought not to
answer it precisely and absolutely, because no one but God can give an
appreciation of its real value. However, out of curiosity, I set myself
at work to gather and register some results; and, matured by the
experience of six years, I offer them, such as they are: One third of
the moral results may be considered excellent; another third as offering
good guarantees, and a final third has no value. It seems to me,
however, as I am sure it will seem to you, that here is cause for
rejoicing. Here is something for which to praise the Lord, and to
encourage those who administer our affairs. For, I ask of the merchants
who listen to me, if any one were to offer you thirty-three and one
third per cent. assured, with the hope of a dividend, would you refuse
the investment?"
In 1871 an occurrence took place worthy of being recorded. On April 13,
at ten o'clock in the evening, emissaries of the Commune entered the
house, revolvers in hand. Armed men were posted at all the entrances.
The deaconesses were summoned to one of the parlors, and held prisoners
until three o'clock the following morning. Meanwhile an investigation
took place among the girls in the penitentiary, as they would be the
most likely of any of the inmates of the house to have complaints. The
officers of the Commune interrogated them closely. Their answers were
favorable beyond all expectation. "Are you happy here?" "Oh, yes, very
happy." "What have you done deserving punishment?" "Nothing that we need
talk to you about." "How are you punished here?" "The sisters don't
punish us; they advise us what to do, and warn us." "Now," said the
chief to one, "just tell me quietly, no one else need hear; if you are
not contented I will take you away with me." "What a coward you are,"
she answered, quite scornfully. Not one of them thought of escaping. All
this time the prison wagon had been waiting in the street, and would
have been filled with deaconesses had the slightest cause of complaint
been found; but it went away empty. Later the sisters had occasion to go
to the head-quarters of the Commune in their ward, and they met with
polite consideration. This is not the only experience of the troubled
political life of the great city that the deaconesses have had. The
Faubourg St. Antoine has been noted ever since the time of the Fronde as
being the haunt of all that is turbulent and revolutionary. In February
1848, a great barricade was thrown across the Rue de Reuilly, men,
women, and children hurrying with bricks and stones to help in building
it. Then came the moment of storm and attack, and forty-two men lay dead
in the street. Some of the wounded were received by the sisters, crowded
as they were with the children whom the mothers had brought for safety.
Meanwhile the deaconesses went about unmolested, bought food and
medicine, hunted friends and relatives for the sick, and through all
that period of excitement and strife kept up their ministrations of
mercy.
There is no distinct home for women who are left alone and desire
Christian surroundings, as is the case in several German institutions,
but about sixty such ladies are received as boarders in the Paris home.
Frequently also the hospitality of the house is enjoyed by young girls
who come to Paris alone to earn a livelihood, or who have to stop here
for some hours on their way to another place; a great advantage for
inexperienced young women, unversed in the ways of a city, who find
themselves alone in the great world for the first time.
The preparatory school for deaconesses is on the first floor, below the
rooms of the sisters. For two years the candidates are under the
instruction of superior sisters. They are received into the house
gratuitously, and accept its regulations while they remain. They have to
pass through all practical duties of house-work, and care of the sick
and children. They also pursue practical and theoretical courses in
hygiene, and receive lessons in singing and pedagogics. The chaplains of
the institution give them courses of religious instruction, and lectures
on Church history. Some (the larger number) need very elementary
lessons; others come with a good education. Each is directed according
to her education and experience. In fact, all classes are represented
among the deaconesses; servants, teachers, ladies, and shepherdesses.
They come from different parts of France, but in larger numbers from the
South.
Deaconesses are constantly in demand to go out in the city as nurses in
private families. Such requests often meet with refusals, because
sisters cannot be spared for such duties. Their work is limited by the
smallness of their numbers. The last report gives sixty deaconesses
attached to the Home on the Rue de Reuilly.
The work is upon sterile soil as compared to Germany. The Protestants of
France are in a small minority, surrounded by an overwhelming majority
of Catholics; while in the beginning of the work some influential
members of the Protestant faith, having an inadequate comprehension of
the good in the movement, and a misconception of its plans, exerted a
powerful influence that for awhile told adversely to the cause. The home
has now passed beyond the stage when it can be affected by adverse
criticisms; and it to-day not only has the approbation of Christians,
but also of those who regard it solely from the point of view of
philanthropy.[51]
There are but two parish deaconesses who are at work in Belleville and
Ste. Marie. The directors of the institution would be glad to increase
the number, as they regard the work of the sisters under the direction
of the city pastors as that which presents the widest opportunities for
doing good, while it perpetuates those aspects of the deaconess work
which most closely resemble those of the early Church. But Calvin's
reply from Geneva to the Church of France is theirs. When petitioned to
send more pastors over the boundary into France he replied, "Send us
wood and we will send you arrows." So the want of deaconesses is a
continual hinderance to the furtherance of the cause, both in the city
and the provinces.
The prisons for women in France are under the supervision of women, save
the office of chief director, which is filled by a man. The great
majority of the prisoners in France being Catholics, the number of
Sisters of Charity is naturally much larger than the number of
deaconesses employed. At the prison of Clermont four of the Paris
deaconesses are kept constantly at work among the prisoners.
In connection with the old prison of St. Lazare, the women's prison of
Paris, the deaconesses have a mission especially concerned with caring
for discharged female convicts. As was the case at Kaiserswerth, this,
in its initiation, is closely connected with the saintly life of
Elizabeth Fry. When she came to Paris, in 1835, a drawing-room meeting
was held at the residence of the Duchess de Broglie, in which she told
of her efforts to effect a reform in prisons in England. None of the
ladies of rank and wealth who heard her were stirred to greater effort
than was demanded by the keen interest with which they listened to her
words; but a quiet governess was present, Mademoiselle Dumas, and with
her the seeds of truth fell into prepared ground. She determined to
attempt for her own country a portion of the work Mrs. Fry had
accomplished for England. Obtaining permission from the authorities to
visit the prison of St. Lazare, she went daily to the prisoners shut up
in the rooms of this great building, formerly the monastery of St.
Vincent de Paul, the founder of the Sisters of Charity. After the
deaconess home was established, some deaconesses were set apart to aid
Mademoiselle Dumas in her work. All these years the mission has
continued, not interrupted even during the dark days of the Commune. A
committee of ladies aids in providing shelter and work for the prisoners
when they are discharged. The great publishing house of Hachette & Co.,
although the head of the firm is a Catholic, provides employment in
folding paper for books.
Through the kind offices of Mademoiselle Monod we called on Mademoiselle
Dumas. She is now an extremely aged woman; but her interest in the
Christian reformation of prisoners of her sex is as keen as it was over
fifty years ago, when her labors began. The registers of many years
stand by her desk, and from these we were shown how the records of the
mission are kept, and in what way the lives of those assisted are
watched and followed for years. Narratives of individual reformation
were related to us, and through the long correspondence of many years
she was enabled to tell us of those who had turned to a better life and
held to it permanently. As she talked her eyes brightened, the tones of
her voice became stronger and clearer, her manner more vivacious, and
the years seemed to slip from her. Finally, as if overcome by the
memories that the long retrospect had brought to her, and thrilled by
the recollections, of all this work meant to her, she ended by
exclaiming, "O, my dear St. Lazare!" I looked at her astonished. I had
just come from the walls of the gloomy prison, and the place had chilled
me with horror as I walked through its corridors, and read the stories
of shame and guilt in the faces of its inmates; most hopeless looking
faces, belonging to little children of ten and twelve up to hardened and
prematurely aged women of fifty and sixty. I could not comprehend a term
of endearment applied to such a place. But a moment's consideration led
me to see that this aged saint had there fought and won the best of her
life's battles, and the place remains glorified in her thoughts by most
hallowed and Christ-like memories.
Now that Mademoiselle Dumas is kept to her room, the deaconesses still
come to her weekly, make their reports, and keep up the proper entries
in her books.
A recent letter from Mademoiselle Monod says: "Mademoiselle Dumas still
lives, having completed her ninety-sixth year the 26th of last December
(1888). Only yesterday our prison committee met at her house, she acting
as presiding officer."
The life of this quiet woman is but little known outside the circle of
her immediate influence, but it has been more valuable to her country
than that of many a general or statesman who has been ranked among the
famous of the earth.
The deaconess home has also branches of work in different parts of
France. These include nine hospitals, two homes for the aged and infirm,
four orphanages, two work-rooms for young girls, and a convalescents'
home. The house has established close connection with the deaconess
houses at St. Loup in French Switzerland, and with Strasburg. The ties
of a common language and former memories are strong, and these are the
homes most akin to the Paris home.
The ordinary expenses of the Paris deaconess home are about thirty
thousand dollars a year. Nearly seven thousand dollars are collected
annually by subscriptions, the remaining sum being made up of returns
arising from service.
The institution was founded in 1841 by Rev. Antoine Vermeil, a
distinguished minister of the Reformed Church, aided by a devout and
worthy minister of the Lutheran Church, Rev. Louis Valette. It has grown
up under the joint and harmonious patronage of these two State Churches.
A later deaconess home, entirely devoted to training and employing
parish deaconesses, was started in 1874, under the sole control of the
Lutheran Church. Some pastors secured the co-operation of a few young
Christian women to consecrate a portion of their strength and time to
the service of the Church. From this beginning sprang the work that
exists to-day. The home is located in the Rue de Bridaine. There are now
sixteen deaconesses, six of whom are probationers. Five of them are
located in different parishes in Paris, usually at a long distance from
the central house. Each goes forth early in the morning to her parish,
where is a room of some kind serving as a center to the work. Materials
used in nursing and medicines are stored here, and there is an office
for the physician, who comes at stated periods to give free
consultation. From the district house the deaconess goes in all
directions and in all weather to look up families which have fallen away
from the Church, to gather in children for the Sunday-school, to visit
the sick, and to collect garments and money from the rich in order to
distribute them among the poor. Such are some of their duties. Each
sister is under the direction of a pastor, and is aided by his advice,
while still remaining a member of the community to which she belongs.
In both of the deaconess houses of Paris, as in the German houses, a
special service sets apart those sisters who have passed their period of
probation, and have been received into full connection. As one of the
deaconess reports beautifully says: "When Christ calls the soul to a
special vocation he gives it special grace, and those who consecrate
themselves to him he consecrates to their task by the strength of his
Spirit. So in conformity with the usages of the primitive Church we give
consecration to our sisters by the laying on of hands. The consecration
is not a sacramental act, conferring a particular character, greater
sanctity, or special powers; neither is it simply a ceremony or pious
formality. It is a real and efficacious benediction, which the Saviour
accords to our sisters to consecrate them to their holy work, as he
accorded it to the deacons who received the imposition of the apostles'
hands."
The good that can be accomplished by deaconesses working together with
ministers in behalf of the manifold interests of the Church is
incalculable. The most faithful pastor can make only short and
unsatisfactory visits. Many sorrows which he overlooks the deaconess can
discern and assuage. She knows best how to reach the heart of a
sorrowing woman, to care for her needs, to discern her wants, and to
bring solace to the sorrowing and succor to the needy. Deaconesses who
have been specially trained for service cannot be spared now that the
world has learned to know of them. For "charity cannot take the place of
experience, nor good-will replace knowledge;" and trained Christian
service is the highest of all service.
The old spirit of the Huguenots has not died out of France, and with
that ready susceptibility to noble ideas which is a marked
characteristic of the French character, we can expect to see the
deaconess cause thrive and prosper as it has done in other lands.
[50] Speak to God about the little ones, rather than to the little
souls of God.
[51] See a sympathetic study of the work by Maxime du Camp, a
member of the French Academy, in his book _Paris Bienfaisant_.