THE INAUGURATION OF THE SOCIAL PALACE.
“Have you noticed,” asked Mrs. Kendrick of her friend, “how deliciously
cool it is in here? and yet this is one of the warmest days of this warm
summer.”
“It is always cool here compared with other places,” replied Mrs.
Müller. “Great buildings, you know, keep their own temperature very
evenly all the year round; and then these walls being of great
thickness, and having an air-chamber between the outer and the inner,
neither heat nor cold affects us greatly. Everybody was astonished at
the small amount of coal used last winter in heating the building. The
mercury in the great court hardly ever went down to fifty degrees.”
The little ones were greatly delighted with their baths, which were in a
large one-story brick-building, covered with a handsome glass roof. The
floor of the bath in the children’s room was brought up to within about
three inches of the surface of the water at one end, and sloping down to
two feet below at the other end. At the shallow part the babies rolled
about and splashed and crowed, while they continually tried to dare
deeper and deeper water, imitating the _poupons_ and the _bambins_, some
of whom, Min among the rest, swam like little South Sea Islanders.
Passing from this room into the next, through a thick partition some
seven feet high, the visitors were in the presence of some two or three
hundred bathers, men and women, dressed so exactly alike that it was
often impossible to tell one sex from the other. At the upper end, where
the visitors entered, the water was deep, for swimming; while further
down, beyond the island, the water was shallow enough for the most
timid. Mrs. Forest explained that there were an unusual number of
bathers to-day, because of the hot weather and because of the coming
ball, this being the first part of the toilet of the dancers. Some took
flying leaps and dives from different stages of a platform at the deep
end of the bath, according to their temerity; and some of the boldest
were women. Sometimes young men and maidens—Linnie and young Page were
among these—leaped or dived together, holding each other’s hands,
disappearing under the water, then reappearing and swimming a race to
the little island. This was some ten or twelve feet in diameter, and
covered with plants in luxuriantly-flourishing condition. Great African
lilies opened their creamy spathes to the sun, and extended their
enormous leaves over the edge of the island. In the centre of the island
was a tall fern, and smaller ones at its base. This island was entirely
left to the mercy of the bathers; but as there were always some, and
even many, every day, it was kept in perfect condition.
“Oh,” said Louise to her mother, “how grand this is! I would rather live
here than in any place in the world!”
After a hasty survey of the laundry, cuisine, café, and other adjuncts,
our visitors went back to the palace through the nursery, for Mrs.
Burnham would have “one more peep at those happy babies.” But many of
them were now in their garden, playing on the lawn, watching the
beautiful birds in a large aviary, or talking to the parrots. There was
a balcony, protected by a balustrade, extending across the garden end of
the nursery, and the little ones who could walk were continually passing
through the glass doors on to this, where they could see the birds and
flowers, and the sports of the children.
On returning to the doctor’s apartments, Mrs. Kendrick found a messenger
with a note from her husband, saying that Dr. Delano and his wife had
arrived from Boston, intent on visiting the evening ceremonies at the
Social Palace, and that they would probably expect something to eat.
Mrs. Kendrick asked for her carriage.
“You will return with them?” said Mrs. Forest. “You may as well bring
them and your husband here at once. They can just as well dine here, if
they have not dined.”
“Of course,” said Charlotte. “I will order dinner for them in our rooms
while you are gone. Louise wants to go home and dress, I know, for she
means to dance at the workman’s ball.”
“My child, is that so?” asked Mrs. Kendrick, gravely. “Why, you have no
escort!”
“Oh, Felix will take care of her. He dances, and I do not,” replied Mrs.
Müller.
The three suites of apartments of the doctor, Paul, and Felix, extended
through the wing from front to back, where they opened on the court of
the quadrangle. In this court was the magnificent winter conservatory of
the Social Palace. All these three suites of apartments were very
elegantly furnished, especially those of the count, who could find
nothing too rich or magnificent for the home of his precious Clara. On
this second floor, around the three sides of this court, were the
apartments renting the highest, being more spacious in their character.
Every tenant had the right to finish or decorate his interior as he
chose. He could fresco, or paper, or wainscot it at his pleasure. The
count and Felix had had theirs frescoed by a skillful foreign artist;
but most of the occupants were quite satisfied with the elegant
“hard-finished,” tinted walls of their homes.
In about an hour the visitors returned, bringing Dr. Delano and his wife
and the two “solid” bankers. Louise was in a state of great excitement.
There were to be many Oakdalers at the ball, but none, so far as she
knew, of her own particular set, except the count, and he would probably
only dance once, and then retire to his “idol.” But Louise was seized
with a democratic mania. She was anxious to see how young men who
actually worked all day would deport themselves in white kid gloves, and
she told Ella she expected rare amusement. Ella decided that it would be
exceedingly “nice,” and only regretted that she was in her traveling
dress.
As the party drove over the bridge, Ella was amazed at the sight of the
magnificent structure before her, and asked what it was.
“Why that is it,” replied Louise.
“It?” fairly screamed Ella. “Do you mean to tell me that is your
workingman’s home? You can’t make me believe it.”
“You should have been with us to-day,” said Mrs. Kendrick. “The outside
is nothing to the spacious elegance and comfort inside; and it is so
deliciously cool there!”
“I should think it would be stifling like a big hot-house, under those
glass roofs of the courts,” said Dr. Delano, addressing Mrs. Kendrick.
“Oh no; in the first place, those roofs are very high, and have
openings, and then great volumes of air are constantly coming in from
the underground ventilating galleries; besides, I am told that all
immense buildings, like St. Peter’s at Rome, keep their own temperature
very evenly all the year round.”
“That a workingman’s home!” repeated Ella, as if dreaming. “Why, the
finest mansions in Boston would be lost inside of it!” And she sank back
in the carriage as if exhausted. Such a palace for mere laboring people
seemed to shock her sense of the fitness of things, like the sight of
hippopotami on a grand banqueting-table.
Felix was waiting to receive them at the grand entrance; and giving the
carriage into the hands of one of the uniformed young men, he conducted
his guests up the grand stairway, decorated with huge vases of flowers,
along the corridor into his own apartments. Louise begged Charlotte to
take them at once into the back parlor opening on the great
conservatory. The long folding windows were open, and through these they
passed on to the balcony surrounding the conservatory on three sides;
for it extended quite through the end of the quadrangle toward the
south-east, where it ended by a double wall of glass. Dr. Delano seemed
struck dumb by the magnificent spectacle before them. The air was laden
with rich perfumes, and the colors of the foliage and flower, were
dazzling in their beauty.
“This,” said Charlotte proudly, “is our tropical conservatory. There are
several others in the nursery grounds. The whole is under the head
direction of Madam Susie, but there are many skillful florists under
her.”
The great palm stood in the centre, and reared its huge trunk and
wide-spreading fronds toward the glass dome, which the rays of the
setting sun still emblazoned. The wide passage around this centre was
laid in handsome colored tiles, like all the floors of the balconies, so
that water could not injure them. The visitors looked down from the
balcony on to this walk, where people were continually passing. “See!”
said Dr. Delano, calling the attention of Ella. “Do you see those two
young ladies in white under the palm-tree?”
“No—where? There are so many.”
“Why, there on your right, in ball-dress, with their cavaliers. Those
are the Forest girls—twins, you know. How very pretty they look!”
“I must say this is magnificent!” exclaimed Kendrick, who was studying
the conservatory, being much interested in the subject, from his own
experience. Plants seemed there to forget what latitudes they were born
to. Huge century plants from Mexico crowned vases set on high pedestals,
and spread out their long polished leaves, as if enamored of their
foster climate. Around these pedestals climbed the many-tinted velvet
foliage of the lovely _Cissus discolor_. There were poinsettias from
Australia opening out their giant crimson bracts, the papyrus from
Egypt, clerodendrons, and a wonderful variety of caladiums, whose broad
leaves reflected the most brilliant colors. There were climbing plants
in great number; large orange-trees, filled with flowers and fruit that
had been growing under Susie’s care at her old conservatories;
banana-trees, on which hung heavy clusters of ripening fruit;
pineapples, in the sunniest spots; and every plant, every leaf, in that
vast court seemed to have found its own conditions for perfect growth.
“My dear Charlotte,” said Felix, with the tenderness in his gray eyes
that is seldom wanting in young husbands, “is not the dinner waiting?”
“Yes; but I cannot drag these people from the balcony by main force.
See! they are clear out of sight, on the further balcony.”
At this juncture some officials entered the conservatory, and at a given
signal Felix gathered in his guests, and every window opening on the
balconies was closed, while the promenaders below were warned to leave
immediately, or take a drenching. From behind the French windows
Charlotte’s guests watched the artificial rain-shower which burst up
from the hose, capped with rose-sprinklers, even to the very roof, and
descended gently for some minutes on balconies, windows, walls, and on
all the masses of foliage below. In a few minutes several women, armed
with mops of white cotton waste and a bucket, passed round on the
balconies and removed the water. Mr. and Mrs. Müller then succeeded in
getting their guests to the table, which was spread with a profusion of
delicacies and luxuries, and adorned with flowers. They were delighted
with everything, and the same, or fuller, explanations had to be given
as those at the doctor’s table some hours before. By special request,
Too Soon had been sent from the restaurant to attend Felix’s table. The
only assistance Charlotte had in her simple household duties, as she
explained, was a young girl whom she had taken from an orphan asylum in
Boston, and who was attending the Social Palace school. To-day, of
course, she had a holiday.
The sight of the gorgeous Oriental, and his quaint polite ways, amused
Ella and Louise greatly. Albert went into ecstacies over a _sole au
grattin_. “When I want a sauce like that,” he said, “I have to go to the
Parker House, though I have a cook at sixty dollars a month, and furnish
him three assistants. I may add, that not even at the Parker House have
I ever tasted mushrooms so delicious as these.”
“You ought to live here, Albert,” said his sister; “because you are such
a _gourmet_. Mushrooms are a perfect drug here, and we sell them by the
ton. You see they grow under the flower benches in the dark. This is one
of our great industries. Children pick them and pack them, and they are
also very skilful in the handling of our cut flowers. They earn a great
deal of money, though they all attend the schools. This is the one-thing
obligatory. Every child must be kept at school.”
“What do you think, Müller,” asked Burnham, “about the occupants paying
for this establishment?”
“Why, we shall do it without a doubt, in less than ten years. The
profits from the stores and the _cuisine_ alone more than pay for
running the establishment. On many of the articles of food there is
absolutely no profit. This is to encourage the poor and the unskilled
laborers, who do not earn so much, of course, as the skilled laborers;
but then their wives, being relieved from nursing and cooking, can help
them put money in their rents. There are about two hundred women
employed from two to eight hours a day in the nurseries and schools, in
the stores, café, laundry, and in taking care of the flower business,
and keeping the palace in order. Then there are many more in the silk
factory and in the dairy.”
Burnham asked what the articles of food were that were furnished at
cost. Felix and Charlotte enumerated: crushed wheat, certain fruits,
hominy, milk, beef soup, Graham bread, mashed potatoes, plain roasts,
and some others.
“Why,” said Kendrick, “that is a sufficient diet for any one. The
economical can easily live on that, and make the support of the
institution out of those who indulge in luxuries.”
“That is true,” replied Charlotte, “and we think it quite just. There is
such a spirit of good-fellowship and honest enthusiasm here, that all
goes on admirably. Our wheat and beef, we raise on the farm, and if any
choose to live on simple fare, which is always excellent of its kind,
they can do so on much less than one-half what it used to cost them.”
While they were talking, the great conservatory was suddenly lighted up,
and Louise and Ella precipitately sought the balcony. The walk below was
quite dry, and filled with promenaders, while the crystal water-drops,
that still hung on the great palm fronds, glistened like diamonds in the
brilliant light.
While the gentlemen lingered over their wine, a grand swell of music
echoed through the palace, announcing that the time for the inaugural
ceremonies in the great central court had arrived. Felix and Charlotte
then led their guests down one flight of stairs and into this court, and
seated them on the platform reserved for the musicians and speakers, and
for a few specially-honored guests.
The scene presented from the platform of this vast glass-roofed court
was one of dazzling splendor. It was lighted by scores of gas-jets,
projecting all around from the base of the three tiers of balconies or
galleries, on which the apartments opened, now crowded with spectators.
The centre was also filled with seats, not one of which was empty. Over
the centre of the platform were gracefully draped flags of many
countries, conspicuous among which were the tri-color of France and the
“star-spangled banner.” These flags were draped around an immense shield
of delicate green mosses, in which were set a mosaic of half-opened
rosebuds, tube-roses, white-violets, and scarlet-verbenas, forming the
motto, “_Attractions are proportional to destinies_.” Opposite the
platform, on the further side of the court, filling the space between
the two upper balconies, was another flag-draped shield of the same
kind, bearing the motto, “_The Series distribute the Harmonies_.” Long
chains of rare flowers, looped with gay ribbons, completely festooned
every balcony, the slender iron supports of which were covered with
winding garlands of natural flowers. The whole air was deliciously
perfumed. Great vases of flowering plants decorated each end of the
platform; and scattered among the audience were women in ball-dress,
their shoulders draped with brilliant opera-cloaks. On either side of
the court, half-way between the display of flags, were the words, in a
mosaic of flowers, “_Liberty, Equality, Fraternity_,” the first word
being on the lowest gallery, and _Fraternity_ on the highest. Murmurs of
admiration were heard everywhere among the immense audience. Suddenly
the court rang with shouts of applause, and the band struck up “_See!
the Conquering Hero Comes_.” The count had entered the court. Ascending
the platform, he advanced to the front and waited until the applause had
somewhat subsided. He looked quite pale when he commenced:
“Friends, fellow-workers, and citizens:”—after a pause, which became
even painful, he laid his hand on his breast, saying—“Can you bear with
my weakness when I confess that my heart is too full for utterance? To
say that this is the proudest hour of my life, seems to me but a lame
and impotent phrase. No words that I am able to combine, are adequate to
express the emotion that fills me to-night. But as I am expected to
speak, I will not disappoint you, and will do the best I can; and as
there are many strangers present, I must endeavor specially to make
myself intelligible to them. To you, my fellow-workers, I need only say
that the first Social Palace of America is finished, and I think it does
honor to the hands that have built it.” [Here the count was interrupted
by cheers and protests against his modesty in giving all the credit to
the workmen.]
“You do me personally too much honor. It is not much to advance capital
for the building of an institution like this, following the example of
one of the noblest lovers of humanity, who did _his_ work without
precedent, and against opposition and discouragement of every kind.
[Cheers for Godin.] This palace is built on the model of the first one
ever founded—that at Guise, in France. That has been in successful
operation now for several years, and I wish every capitalist within the
sound of my voice to note well the fact, that it is a perfect financial
success, paying six per cent. annually on the capital invested, which is
as much as any commercially-honest capitalist in France expects to
make.” Here the count gave a detailed description of the organization
and working of the Social Palace system, and then he continued:
“You have gone over the palace and the grounds to-day; you have seen the
flourishing industries, you understand the provisions made for the
children, the sick, the aged and infirm, and you can judge whether this
institution furnishes the proper conditions for moral and intellectual
growth [prolonged cheers]; but you may not yet be able to comprehend
what the children of these industrious men and women will become, when
they have grown up under the influence of the means for education and
artistic culture which this grand institution supplies. They will
despise drudgery by instinct, for it leaves the form bent and awkward,
and the mind cramped and divested of beauty; and just as certainly will
they honor labor as the great natural function of the human race,
distinguishing it from the brutes. The reason why labor has not been
honored heretofore, is because it has always been confounded with
slavery or drudgery. With the abolition of slavery, we are just
beginning to learn that man is not to be adapted to labor, but that
labor, through machinery and scientific organization, is to be adapted
to man.
“The primal object of society should be to make perfect men and
women—perfect citizens. This cannot be accomplished without scientific
training for the mind, and the free and harmonious development of the
muscles through labor, with gymnastic exercises and games for the
development of those muscles not brought into play by the ordinary
industrial occupations. When a man continues many hours a day using only
one set of muscles, as the blacksmith his arm, he must do it at the
expense of grace, and strength, and beauty, which we should be taught to
seek as a duty to ourselves and to our fellow-beings, since we have no
moral right to transmit disease and ugliness to posterity. [Cheers.] No
one should dream of finishing his education until he dies. Besides the
exercise of the muscles by industry, every human being should have time
during the twenty-four hours, for amusing games, for bathing, for
dressing elegantly and becomingly, for social converse, for music or the
drama, for regular study and drill in classes, and finally for sleep.
All this may not be accomplished for the wronged and cheated adult
generation of the present; all this and more will be the proud heritage
of the children growing up under the blessings of a nobly organized
social and industrial life. [Great applause.] Children growing up under
such conditions, will be strong and beautiful, tender and wise. They
will be strong through constant exercise, a varied and plentiful diet,
and the natural stimulation of happiness. They will be beautiful,
because to develop their bodies harmoniously will be the object of
scientific study; and their faces will be beautiful because they will be
moulded, not by anger, and cunning, and selfishness, but by generosity,
candor, and love. They will be tender, because they will be taught to be
proud of exemplifying the devotion of love, the grandest of all our
passions, for it is the only one that exalts us to the dignity of the
creative mood. Finally, they will be wise, for they will have acquired
the sentiment of the brotherhood of man.
“‘Wisdom is humanity;
And they who want it, wise as they may seem,
And confident in their own sight and strength,
Reach not the scope they aim at.’”
Such enthusiastic and long-continued applause followed the count’s
address, that he came forward again, and said:
“This time, my friends, I will forgive you for taking more notice of me
than I deserve, since it reminds me of a duty I owe to you. I wish to
say to the thousands here present, and especially to the capitalists who
may hereafter engage in the building of Social Palaces, that their task
will be an easier one than they suppose; because men and women will work
for their establishment with the same single-hearted devotion with which
they have worked for this. I have been often pained to see the
sacrifices that these noble workers have made. I doubt if one-half of
them have taken the allotted hour at noon for their lunch; and I have
seen carpenters, cabinetmakers, and decorators, seize a spade and dig in
the trenches, rather than be a moment idle, when their own special work
was interrupted by any accident; and be it said to the honor of labor,
that the men who have done the most skilled labor on this palace, have
never failed in equal respect toward those who have done the most
mechanical and unskilled portions. A spirit of fraternal good-fellowship
and unity of purpose has, so far as I know, characterized these men
throughout every hour of the work from its commencement. This spirit is
based on the sentiment of equality, the recognition of human rights
everywhere, and is most significant, for it is full of promise for the
future success of our great effort. And here I will mention one thing,
not out of malice, but simply as a lesson. I am accused of advocating
the ‘leveling’ principle. ‘Frauenstein, you are a leveler,’ said a
friend to me to-day. Well, there is some truth in that: I would bring
all the races and individuals on the globe up to the highest level; but
I should be very sorry to do anything toward bringing my artisan friends
down to the physical, intellectual, or moral level of certain
aristocrats whom I know. [Laughter and applause.] It is undeniably the
fact, that to-day the soundest views on education, on politics, on
finance, on social organization, are supported, not by those who hold
themselves above their kind—the drones of the community, who feed on the
mechanic’s labor—but by those who have an honest right to everything
they own, and much more. The more I associate with laborers, even those
who have had little advantage from schools, the more I am struck with
the saving virtue that is in them. I confess I am almost disgusted with
the very word aristocracy, for it has been vilely degraded, until it is
applied only to those who would be ashamed to do an honest day’s work of
any kind. And what is this aristocracy? What are these _parvenues_ of
two hundred years, who would cry down the nobler aristocracy of labor,
which is as old as civilization itself?”