ACCOUNT OF AN ESTABLISHMENT AT CHAILLOT
FOR THE RECEPTION OF THE AGED
AND DESTITUTE
[Sidenote: ASYLUM FOR AGED AT CHAILLOT]
The French Revolution having overthrown those humane establishments,
which had for long ages subsisted in the country, some private
individuals are generously endeavouring to repair those breaches which
crime has effected in the order of society.
Nothing tends more to the happiness of society than the discovery of
practical methods which may increase the comforts of those who are no
longer able to support themselves.
When a nation has increased in number and power, it is bound to provide
for its people additional means of subsistence. Beneficence should not
be stationary when nations are progressive. I will now enter into a
detail of the establishment of Chaillot, which is equally praiseworthy
for its benevolent views and ingenuity.
I happened to fall into company with a ci-devant nobleman, named
Duchaillot,[1] who, during the time of the Terror, lost all his fortune
and took refuge in Berlin.
I found he possessed a sound and inquisitive mind, and was thoroughly
conversant in every branch of domestic economy. He inquired whether
we had in Great Britain and Ireland any institutions which offered a
retreat for old age. I answered they were numberless. But this answer
did not satisfy him, and he placed his question on a different footing.
“Have you,” said he, “any institution independent of charitable
purposes, in which male and female persons, after they have reached
the age of seventy can by right and without asking the favour of
any individual, place themselves in order to pass the remainder of
their days in comfort and repose?” As I failed to recollect any such
establishment in England, he immediately said: “Come and dine at my
house to-morrow and I will show you one.”
The house of Monsieur Duchaillot is beautifully situated at Chaillot,
in the Champs Élysées, commanding an extensive view of the city, the
Seine and the Champ de Mars. In front, there is a large and elegant
parterre, terminating in an extensive kitchen garden. Behind there
is another large house, formerly the monastery of S. Perine, which
also belongs to this establishment, and a field of about four acres,
bordered by a well-cultivated garden.
In this retreat I found above one hundred aged persons, of both sexes,
whose manners and appearance showed that they had once figured in the
genteeler walks of life, and whose countenances indicated the most
perfect happiness and content.
“This,” said he, “is the retreat I have established for old age.”
The chambers occupied by the female part of the society compose the
right wing of the house. Each female has a bed-chamber to herself, and
there is a parlour or sitting-room appointed to two females. Their
clothing, if required, is found for them.
The left wing of the house is occupied by the males, the arrangements
being precisely similar to that adopted for the females. Husbands and
wives have rooms to themselves.
The diet corresponds with the neatness and simplicity of the apartments.
At one o’clock a plentiful dinner is served to the whole society in
the refectory, and at seven they re-assemble for supper. Besides a
sufficient quantity of meat and vegetables each person is allowed a
pound-and-half of bread and a bottle of wine daily.
[Sidenote: ASYLUM FOR AGED AT CHAILLOT]
In case of sickness they are removed to a part of the house used as an
infirmary, where medical attendance is provided, and they receive every
possible attention. In case of decease, they are decently interred in
the neighbouring church, at the expense of the society, or elsewhere
at the expense of their friends.
Their time is entirely at their own disposal. They may even employ
themselves in any lucrative occupation, provided it does not interfere
with the quiet and general rules of the house.
I observed several females engaged very profitably in needle work and
embroidery. What little emoluments they acquire by their industry
supply them with pocket-money. The men pass their time in reading,
walking in the neighbouring fields or in the garden. I observed they
were usually less active than the women, but much more devout. I met an
old Abbé whose whole time is spent in reading his breviary, missal and
other religious books. His library was composed of about 200 volumes.
Another, about seventy-four years of age, had seen much of the world.
His manners were prepossessing, and his conversation proved him a man
who lived for others rather than himself.
He was pious without austerity, cheerful without dissipation, and
polite without frivolity. He had seen better days, and been one of
those sufferers whom the Revolution had plundered and proscribed on
account of his attachment to religion. He never spoke with the least
asperity of what had happened, he only shrugged his shoulders and
smiled contemptuously at the miserable efforts of his countrymen to
establish liberty and equality. He was well read in French literature
and fond of astronomy. But his favourite books were a Bible and Don
Quixote, Cervantes being an author to whom he was especially partial.
Just as we were sitting down to dinner one of the old gentlemen
entered, and with great vivacity, informed Monsieur Duchaillot he
proposed going to the play. On inquiry, I found he had been an amateur
of music; and that at seventy-two years of age his taste for it was
still so predominant that he was about to avail himself of a ticket a
friend had sent him to see the second representation of Poesiello’s
_Zingari in Flora_, at the Opera Buffa.
I have entered into these details to show that there is no restriction
on their amusements, and that they are entirely their own master.
Upon the whole, I observed that they were all more or less engaged in
religious exercises.
At that period of life when mind and body require repose, when it is
necessary old age should “walk pensive on the silent solemn shore of
that vast ocean it must sail so soon,” what can be more consolatory
than a retreat where wants are supplied and infirmities alleviated
without reluctance or repining?
It has been alleged against most governments of Europe that there
is nothing seen but youth going to the gallows, and old age to the
workhouse.
A government is no more responsible for the misfortunes than for the
crimes of its subjects, and all that can be expected is that it should
give a proper direction to charitable provisions, and guard them with
the sacred sanction of the law.
It will be found a true maxim of public economy that these
charitable institutions should spring from the natural sympathy of
mankind--nothing is needful for government than to see that they are
administered honestly.
This fact has been illustrated in Britain, where there exist more usual
monuments of piety and benevolence, than in all the other countries of
Europe put together.
[Sidenote: ASYLUM FOR AGED AT CHAILLOT]
In the course of my visits to Chaillot, Monsieur Duchaillot often
expressed a wish that a similar establishment should be attempted in
England. At first it appeared to me liable to some objections, but
these he successfully removed. I thought that respect for aged parents
being a quality inherent in the character of every Briton, that such an
institution might have a tendency to look as if we meant to canonise
ingratitude and place old age in the light of a burdensome load upon
the community.
Barbarous natives are accustomed to destroy the old in order that the
young may live. But in civilised countries, where agriculture, arts and
commerce flourish, and where a greater degree of population promises a
greater degree of stock, such motives could never for a moment enter
the breast of a human being. I am aware however that some eight years
ago it was seriously proposed in the Jacobin Club, to knock all the old
people on the head or starve them to death, lest they should consume
what would be necessary for the support of soldiers and citizens.
But even in that wild and guilty assembly there were some persons who
had not utterly abandoned the feelings of men, and this abominable
principle was not carried into execution.
Monsieur Duchaillot combated my opposition to his scheme, by pointing
out that it is the _object_ of the institution at Chaillot not to
destroy but to give efficacy to domestic attachments. All persons who
enter there can experience the attentions of their kinsmen by receiving
their visits or visiting them.
Secondly, the institution is only intended for those who cannot provide
for themselves, and whose friends and relations cannot provide for them.
Thirdly, more comforts and enjoyments, more attention can be procured
under one establishment than when a number of persons are dispersed
individually in private houses.
Fourthly, it is not necessary that every one who becomes a member
of this Society should be either a father or a mother. There are
a multitude of unmarried persons of both sexes, to whom such an
establishment offers a happy asylum.
Fifthly, many fathers and mothers of families would prefer the society
of persons of their own age and circumstances, and if they are
discontented with the institution they can leave it when they choose.
After hearing these arguments I became convinced that similar
establishments would be thankfully received by every rational man in
our country, who at all reflects on the uncertain chances of prosperity
in life.
How many industrious persons contemplate the approach of old age with
horror. How many respectable worthy people meet misfortune in the
decline of life. Is it right there should be _no_ refuge between
death and the workhouse? Should not some encouragement be held out for
securing a retreat against misfortune and the inevitable ills attendant
on old age?