AMONG FRENCH PROTESTANTS AT MONTBÉLIARD
Half-an-hour's railway journey brings me to the quaint little town of
Montbéliard in the Department of Le Doubs, whose friends' friends give
me hearty welcome, and I feel in an hour as much at home as if I had
known it all my life. My friends had procured me a little lodging,
rather, I should say, a magnificent _appartement_, consisting of
spacious sitting and bedroom, for which I pay one franc a-day. It must
not be supposed that Montbéliard is wanting in elegancies, or that the
march of refinement is not found here. The fact is, the character of
the people is essentially amiable, accommodating, and disinterested, and
it never enters into their heads to ask more for their wares, simply
because they could get it, or to make capital out of strangers. A franc
a day is what is paid in these parts by lodgers, chiefly officers, and
no more would be asked of the wealthiest or unwariest. You find the same
spirit animating all classes, tradesmen, hotel-keepers, and others, and
doubtless this is to be traced to several causes. In the first place,
Montbéliard is one of the most enlightened, best educated, and most
Protestant _départements_ of all France. Le Doubs, part of the ancient
Franche-Comté, is so Protestant, indeed, that in some towns and villages
the Catholics are considerably in the minority, as is even the case
still at Montbéliard.
So late as the French Revolution, the Comté of this name belonged to
Würtemberg, having passed over to that house by marriage in the
fourteenth century. In 1792, however, it became amalgamated with the
French Kingdom, and fortunately escaped annexation in the last
Franco-German War. Protestantism early took root here, the Anabaptist
Doctrine especially, and in the present day Montbéliard numbers several
Protestant and only one Catholic church; the former belonging severally
to the Reformed Church, the Lutheran, Anabaptists, also two or three
so-called _Oratoires_, or Chapels of Ease, built and supported by
private individuals. We find here the tables strangely turned, and in
France the unique spectacle of four Protestant pastors to one Catholic
priest! At one time the Protestant body numbered two-thirds of the
entire population, now the proportion is somewhat less. This still
strong Protestant leaven, and the long infiltration of German manners
and customs has doubtless greatly modified the character of the
inhabitants, who, whether belonging to the one denomination or the
other, live side by side harmoniously.
We find a toleration here absolutely unknown in most parts of France,
and a generally diffused enlightenment equally wanting where Catholicism
dominates. Brittany and Franche-Comté (including the Departments of Le
Doubs, Haute Saône, and Jura), offer a striking contrast; in the first
we find the priest absolute, and consequently superstition, ignorance,
dirt, and prejudice the prevailing order of the day; in the last we have
a Protestant spirit of inquiry and rationalistic progress, consequently
instruction making vast strides on every side, freedom from bigotry, and
freedom alike from degrading spiritual bondage and fanaticism.
In the highly instructive map published by the French Minister of
Instruction, Franche-Comté is marked white and Brittany black, thus
denoting the antipodes of intellectual enlightenment and darkness to be
found in the two countries. Here, indeed, we find ourselves in a wholly
different world, so utterly has a spirit of inquiry revolutionized
Eastern France, so long has her Western province been held in the grip
of the priest. Furthermore, we have evidence of the zeal animating all
classes with respect to education on every side, whilst it is quite
delightful to converse with a Montbéliardais, no matter to which sect he
belongs, so unprejudiced, instructed, and liberal-minded are these
citizens of a town neither particularly important, flourishing, nor
fortunate. For nine months Montbéliard had to support the presence of
the enemy, and though the Prussian soldiery behaved very well here, the
amiable, lively little town was almost ruined.
It is no less patriotic than enlightened; republican ideas being as
firmly implanted here as any where in France. You see portraits of M.
Thiers and Gambetta everywhere, and only good Republican journals on the
booksellers' stalls. It would be interesting to know how many copies of
the half-penny issue of _La République Française_ are sold here daily;
and whereas in certain parts of France the women read nothing except the
_Semaine Religieuse_ and the _Petit Journal_, here they read the
high-class newspapers, reviews, and are conversant with what is going on
in the political and literary world at home and abroad. Indeed, the
contrast is amazing between female education, so called, in
ultra-Catholic and ultra-Protestant France. In Brittany, where the young
ladies are educated by the nuns, you never see or hear of a book. The
very name of literature is a dead letter, and the upper classes are no
better instructed than the lower. In Franche-Comté, girls of all ranks
are well educated, young ladies of fortune going in for their _brevet_,
or certificate, as well as those who have their bread to win. They are
often familiar with the German and English languages, and above all are
thoroughly conversant with their own literature, as well as
book-keeping, arithmetic, French history, elementary science, &c.
This little town of eight thousand inhabitants possesses an intellectual
atmosphere in which it is possible to breathe. Wherever you go you find
books in plenty and of the best kind, and this difference is especially
noteworthy among women. I find the young ladies of Montbéliard as
familiar with the works of Currer Bell and Mrs. Gaskell as among
ourselves. Miss Yonge is also a favourite, and unlike a large class of
novel-readers in England, standard works are not neglected by them for
fiction. No matter at what time you enter the public library here, you
are sure to find ladies of all ages coming to change their books, the
contents of this library, be it remembered, consisting chiefly of French
classics. The mingled homeliness, diffusion of intelligence and
aesthetic culture seen here, remind me of certain little German cities
and towns. People living on very modest means find money for books,
whereas in certain parts of France no such expenditure is ever thought
of, whilst dress and outward show are much less considered.
Naturally, this diffusion of culture raises the tone of conversation and
society generally, and its influence is seen in various ways. Music is
cultivated assiduously, not only by women of the better ranks, but by
both sexes of all, especially among the work-people. The Musical Society
of Montbéliard consists of a very respectable orchestra indeed, and is
composed of amateurs, mostly young men, recruited from the working as
well as middle classes. This Society gives open-air concerts on Sunday
afternoons, and one evening in the week, to the great delectation of the
multitude, who upon these occasions turn out of doors _en masse_ to
enjoy the music and the company of their neighbours. The "Société
d'Émulation" is another instance of the stimulus given to scientific,
literary, and artistic pursuits by a Protestant spirit of inquiry. This
Society was founded in 1852 by a few _savants_, in order to develope the
public taste for science, art, and letters.
It now numbers two hundred and forty-three members, and has been
instrumental in founding a museum containing upwards of eighty thousand
archaeological specimens, besides botanical, and geological, and other
collections. It is particularly rich in this first respect, few
provincial museums having such complete illustrations of the
pre-historic and also Gallo-Roman periods. The flint, bronze, and iron
epochs are here largely represented, some of the large leaf-shaped flint
instruments being particularly beautiful specimens. The excavations at
Mandeure--a short drive from Montbéliard--the Epomanduoduum of the
Romans--have afforded a precious collection of interesting objects,
pottery, small bronze groups of figures, ornaments, terra-cottas, &c.;
at Mandeure are to be seen the ruins of the ancient city, amphitheatre,
baths, tombs, the vestiges of a temple, and other remains; but
excavations are still going on under the direction of the learned
President of the "Société d'Émulation," M. Fabre, and further
treasure-trove is looked for.
This charming little museum, so tastefully arranged in the old Halles,
by M. Fabre, is open on Sunday afternoon on payment of two sous, but in
order to promote a love of science among the young, schools are admitted
gratuitously, and within the last ten weeks of summer thirty-nine
teachers, and seven hundred and forty-eight pupils of both sexes, had
availed themselves of the privilege. During the Prussian occupation in
1870-71, a sum of 323,950 francs was exacted from the town, and the
museum and library, after being valued at a considerable sum, were
seized as pledges of payment. Seals were set on the collections, and
Prussian soldiery guarded the treasures which had been collected with so
much zeal and sacrifice. The sum was not paid, but the library and
museum were not forfeited, to the satisfaction of all.
There is a charming little Theatre also at the back of the
Hôtel-de-Ville, where occasional representations by good Parisian
companies are given. The decorations are by the hand of one of the
artists who decorated the Grand Opera in Paris. He happened to be at
Montbéliard, and, taking a kindly interest in the town, offered to do it
for a nominal price. Years passed and the promise was forgotten, but, on
being reminded of it, the artist, with true French chivalry, redeemed
his word, and the decorations of the Montbéliard Theatre are really a
magnificent monument of artistic liberality. Montbéliard is as sociable
as it is advanced, and one introductory letter from a native of the
friendly little town, long since settled in Paris, opened all hearts to
me. Everyone is helpful, agreeable, and charming. My evenings are always
spent at one pleasant house or another, where music, tea, and
conversation lend wings to the cheerful hours. The custom of keeping the
_veillée_, familiar to readers of the gifted Franc-Comtois writer,
Charles Nodier, is common here among all classes, people quitting their
homes after their early supper--for, according to German habit, we dine
at noon and sup at seven here--to enjoy the society of their neighbours.
Delightful recollections did I carry away of many a _veillée_, and of
one in particular, where a dozen friends and their English guest
assembled in the summer-house of a suburban garden, there to discuss
art, music, literature, and politics, over ices and other good things
despatched from the town. We had looked forward to a superb moonlight
night with poetic effects of river, château, and bridges flooded in
silvery light--we had torrents of rain instead, being threatened with
what is a phenomenon of no rare occurrence here, namely, an inundation.
Situated on the confluence of two rivers, the Allaine and the Lusine,
Montbéliard is a quaint, and homely little Venice in miniature, sure to
be flooded once or twice a year, when people have to pay visits and
carry on their daily avocation in miniature gondolas.
It takes, however, more than minor misfortunes such as these to damp
French geniality and good nature, and when our soirée came to an end,
everyone returned home well fortified with umbrellas, cloaks, and
goloshes in the best possible humour. Sometimes these _veillées_ will be
devoted to declamation and story-telling, one or two of the party
reading aloud a play or poem, or reciting for the benefit of the rest.
In the bitter winter nights this sociable custom is not laid aside, even
ladies with their lanterns braving the snow in order to enjoy a little
society. Music is the chief out-of-door recreation during the summer
months, the military band of the garrison largely contributing to the
general amusement.
It is astonishing how French good-humour and light-heartedness help to
lighten the hardest lot! We find the hours of toil enormously long here,
and economies practised among the better classes of which few English
people have any conception. Yet life is made the best of, and everything
in the shape of a distraction is seized upon with avidity. Although
eminently a Protestant town, shops are open all day long on Sundays,
when more business seems to be done than at any other time. The shutters
are no sooner put up, however, than everyone goes out for a walk or a
visit, and gets as much enjoyment as he can.
Only the rich and exceeding well-to-do people keep servants, others
content themselves with a charwoman who comes in for two hours a day,
and is paid ten or twelve francs a month, many ladies, by birth and
education, living on small means, doing all the lighter household work,
marketing, &c., themselves, whilst the small shopkeeping class, who with
us must invariably have a wretched drudge, called a maid-of-all-work,
never dream of getting anyone to cook or clean for them. As a matter of
course, all this is done by the family, no matter how well educated may
be its members. We must always bear in mind that the general well-being
and easy circumstances of the French middle classes is greatly owing to
their freedom from shams. Toil is not regarded as a degradation, and the
hateful word "gentility" is not found in their vocabulary. Thus it comes
about that you find a mixture of homeliness, comfort, and solidity of
fortune, rarely the case in England. Take my landlady as an example, a
charming person, who keeps a straw-hat and umbrella shop, whose sister
is a _repasseuse_, or clear-starcher, and whose married brother has also
a hat-shop next door. These people do all the work that is to be done
themselves, yet in similar circumstances in England would be sure to
have maids-of-all-work, nursery-maids, and the rest of it. They have
plenty of good furniture, supplies of household and personal linen that
would set up a shop, and the children of the brother receive the best
possible education he can obtain for them. The elder girl has just
returned from Belfort with her first diploma, and is to be sent to
Germany to learn German. She has, nevertheless, acquired a knowledge of
what all women should know, can cook, clean, cut out and make clothes,
&c., and, when she becomes herself a wife and mother, will doubtless
exercise all these accomplishments in order to give her children as good
an education as she possesses herself. All the family have laid by ample
savings.
More might be said about the easy intercourse and geniality of this
little town, did space permit. I will pass on to add that though
extremely picturesque, with its flower-gardens running down to the
water's edge, tiny bridges, hanging roofs, curling rivers, and lastly
circling green hills and superb old château crowning all, there is
little here to detain the tourist. The case is very different with those
travellers who are bent upon studying French life under its various
aspects, for they will find at Montbéliard a wholly new phase. Much in
domestic life reminds us of South Germany, yet no place is more
eminently French. The type of physiognomy is frank and animated, fair,
and even red hair is common, whilst the stature is above the average,
and the general physique gives an idea of strength, character, and
health. The Montbéliardins are courteous, but proud and prone rather to
bestow than accept favours. Amiability and real goodness of heart
especially characterize them.
As a seat of some special manufactures, musical-boxes and clocks being
among the chief, it possesses importance; there are also cotton mills,
tanneries, foundries, &c. The fabrication of clocks by machinery is a
curious process, the precision and apparent intelligence of the machines
being as agreeable to contemplate as the reverse is humiliating: namely,
the spectacle of men, women, and children being converted into
automatons by unremitting mechanical labour. The length of the day's
work here is prodigious, consisting of twelve sometimes fourteen hours,
and the occupation extremely unwholesome, owing to the smell of the oil
and the perpetual noise of machinery. The pay is low, beginning at three
francs and reaching to four or four and a half a day. We may blame the
artizan class for improvidence, insobriety, and many other failings, but
none who calmly compare the life of a clock-maker, for instance,
condemned to spend twelve hours of the twenty-four in this laborious,
unwholesome, and ill-remunerated labour, with that of the better
classes, can wonder at his discontent. If he seeks to better his
position by means of strikes, socialistic schemes, or other violent
means, at least we must grant that it is only natural, till some other
should offer themselves.
It is to be hoped that the hours of labour will soon be shortened in a
part of France so advanced in other respects, and meantime artizans here
are better off than elsewhere. All round the town you find so-called
_cités ouvrières_, built on the model of those of Mulhouse; little
streets of cheerful cottages, each with its bit of flower and
vegetable-garden, where at least the workman has something to call a
home after his day's labour. These artizan quarters are well or
ill-kept, of course, according to the thrift or slovenliness of the
tenants; some are charming, but at their worst they are a vast
improvement upon the close, ill-ventilated quarters to be found in
towns. They are also much cheaper, about £5 a year being charged for
both house and garden, whereas, even in a little town like Montbéliard,
accommodation is dear and difficult to be had. In fact, without these
villages the question of house-room would be as much of a problem here
for the workman as among our own rural population; no doubt the heads of
firms who have built cheerful and ornamental little rows of English-like
cottages for their workpeople were actuated at the same time chiefly by
philanthropic motives, but they found it absolutely necessary to take
some steps in the matter.
Various efforts are being made to raise the status of the mechanic by
means of lectures, reading-rooms, and recreation, but, whilst the hours
of labour remain what we find them, little good can be effected. A
devoted lady, who has spent her whole life in her native town, has done
much for the female part of the manufacturing population by means of
free night-schools, free library, chiefly for the young, Sunday
afternoon classes for the teaching of cutting-out and needle-work, and
recreation combined, gratuitous laundries, and other philanthropic
schemes. These efforts of Mademoiselle Rosalie Morel, a lay-woman, have
been seconded by those of a Protestant deaconess in another direction,
the latter devoting herself to nursing and the teaching of hygiene and
sanitary science. In the matter of cleanliness, therefore, these good
people are not left in the dark as in benighted Brittany, where dirt is
not preached against as it ought to be in the pulpit. Mademoiselle
Morel's free laundries, in other words a scheme set on foot for the
purpose of teaching the poorest classes what clean linen should be, have
doubtless effected much good, and on the whole cleanliness is the rule
here, and the public hot and cold baths much frequented by all.
In spite, however, of the animation and _bonhomie_ of this little town,
there is a dark side to social life, and in the train of intemperance
and unthrift among the manufacturing population, we find squalor and
immorality. After several weeks' sojourn in that Utopia of all
socialistic dreamers--a land without a beggar!--I found myself here,
once more, in the domains of mendicity, though it is not to be found to
any great extent. The custom of putting out infants to nurse is,
fortunately, unfrequent in these parts, and, as a natural consequence,
infant mortality is not above the average. The _cités ouvrières_ are to
be thanked for this, and the nearness of the home to the factory enables
the baby to be brought to its mother for nourishment, and in our visit
to the clock manufactory before spoken of, we saw mothers nursing their
infants on the spot. Nearer Paris, you constantly encounter infants
three day's old being dispatched with their foster-mother into some
country place, there to be brought up by hand, in other words, to die;
but here it is not so. We find on a small scale at Montbéliard that
contrast between wealth and poverty seen in England, but wholly absent
from the rural districts of France. The aristocracy of the place here is
composed of the wealthy manufacturing class, and by little and little
Parisian luxuries are finding their way into this remote region. Until
within quite recent date, for instance, there was no such thing as a
stand for hackney carriages here; now it has become the fashion to take
drives in fine weather. In our walks and drives in the neighbourhood, we
encounter handsome waggonettes and open carriages with a pair of horses,
rarely seen in the purely agricultural districts.
In every way, habits of life have become modified by the rapid rise of a
commercial aristocracy; and, as a natural consequence, we find much more
social distinction than in those parts of France where no such class
exists. Yet a stranger, who should study French manners and customs for
the first time, would find the principle of equality existing in a
degree unknown in England. Can anything be more absurd than the
differences of rank that divide the population of our provincial towns?
The same thing is seen in the country, where the clergyman holds aloof
from the village doctor, the farmer from the shopkeeper, both these from
the village schoolmaster, and where, indeed, everybody thinks himself
better than his neighbour.
We have, in English provincial towns, schools for the professional
classes, schools for the children of farmers, of wholesale shopkeepers,
of small retail tradesmen; lastly, schools for the "people," and you no
more expect to find a rich man's child attending the latter than a
chimney-sweep's son at the Grammar School. In French country towns all
this is simplified by the École Communale, at which boys and girls
respectively, no matter what their parents' calling or means, receive
precisely the same education; after the École Communale, comes the
Collége, where a liberal education is afforded to boys, and pupils study
for the examination of _Bachelier-ès-Lettres et Sciences_, but are not
prepared as at the Lycées for the "Doctorate-in-Law." There is no other
school here for primary instruction of both sexes but the Communal
School, Protestant and Catholic, whither all the children, rich and
poor, patrician and prolétaire, go as a matter of course. The politeness
of the French working-classes may be partly accounted for in the
association of all ranks in early life. Convent, or other schools, for
young ladies, do not exist at Montbéliard, and those who study for the
first and second diploma are generally prepared at Belfort and Besançon,
where the examinations are held.
There is also here an École Normale, training school for teachers; also
a Protestant training school, noted for its excellence. On the whole,
for a town of eight thousand inhabitants, Montbéliard must be considered
rich in educational and intellectual resources.
Much of the farming in these parts is tenant-farming on a fair scale,
i.e., fifty to two or three hundred acres. In the case of small peasant
properties, which, of course, exist also, the land is usually not
divided on the death of the father, the eldest son purchasing the shares
of his brothers and sisters. More on the subject of agriculture will be
said further on, there being nothing particularly striking about the two
tenant-farms I visited with friends in the immediate proximity of the
town. The first, though not a model farm, is considered a good specimen
of farming on a large scale, the size being two hundred and fifty acres,
hired at a rental of fifty francs per hectare, or about a pound per
acre. The premises are large and handsome, and cleanly, according to a
French agricultural standard, and, as usual, with a large heap of manure
drying up in the sun. Here we found thirty-five splendid Normandy and
other cows, entirely kept for milking, the milk being all sent to
Montbéliard, with a small number of bullocks, horses and pigs. The land
looks poor, and gives no evidence of scientific farming, though very few
improvements are made, new agricultural methods and implements
introduced, and thus the resources of the land developed. The farmer's
wife and daughters were all hard at work, and the farmer busy with his
men in the fields. Close to the farm-house, which we found spacious and
comfortable, is the handsome villa of the owner, who has thus an
opportunity of seeing for himself how things go. If tenant-farming does
not pay in England, it certainly can only do so in France by means of a
laboriousness and economy of which we have hardly an idea. Work, indeed,
means one thing with us, and quite another with our French neighbour.
It is on market-day that the country folks and their wares are to be
seen to the best advantage; and housekeepers supply themselves with
butter, fruit, vegetables and haberdashery, all being very cheap;
peaches sixpence a pound, melons two or three sous each, and so on in
proportion. One fruit may puzzle strangers, it is the red berry of the
cultivated service berry tree, and makes excellent preserve. In spite,
however, of the low prices of garden and orchard produce, everyone
complains that the cost of living has greatly risen even here since the
war, and that many provisions are as dear as in Paris. Yet, as far as I
can judge, Montbéliard is still a place in which, if you cannot live on
nothing a year, you can live on next to nothing, and not uncomfortably
either.
And now, before turning "to fresh fields and pastures new," a word must
be said about the illustrious name that will ever be linked with
Montbéliard. Many a hasty traveller alights at the railway station for
the purpose of seeing the noble monument of David d'Angers, and the
antiquated humble dwelling bearing the proud inscription:
"Ici naquit George Cuvier."
The bronze statue of the great anatomist stands out in bold relief
before the Hôtel-de-Ville, the profile being turned towards the house in
which he first saw the light, the full face fronting the large
Protestant Church built in 1602, a century and a half before his birth.
The proximity is a happy one, for was it not by virtue of Protestantism,
no matter how imperfectly manifested, that Cuvier was enabled to pursue
his inquiries with such magnificent results? Two centuries before, he
might, like Galileo, have had to choose between martyrdom or scientific
apostasy. The great Montbéliardais--whose brain weighed more than that
of any human being ever known--is represented with a pen in one hand, a
scroll in the other, on which is drawn the anatomy of the human frame.
He wears the long, full frock coat of the period, its ample folds having
the effect of drapery. David d'Angers has achieved no nobler work than
this statue.
The College of Montbéliard, called after its greatest citizen, was
founded a few years ago, and is one of the first objects seen on
quitting the railway station of the Rue Cuvier.
English tourists do not often turn aside from the Swiss route to visit
the quieter beauties of the Department of the Doubs, and residents here
regret the absence of travellers, which, of course, tells upon the
hotels. No one has a word to say in favour of anything we are likely to
meet with on our journey throughout the length or breadth of Franche
Comté. When it is as much of a recreation ground with us as Switzerland,
doubtless everything will change, but nothing daunted we pursue our
journey. The only way to see this country to perfection is to hire a
carriage for the day, and retain it as long as you please. The railway
does not penetrate into the most picturesque regions, and the diligence
is slow and inconvenient. Accordingly, having had an itinerary written
out for us by friends who had gone over every inch of the ground, mostly
on foot, I set off with an enterprising lady, a native of these parts,
for a few days' drive in the most romantic scenery of the Doubs,
southward of Montbéliard, and in the direction of Switzerland. So well
is the road marked out for us that we want neither "Joanne" nor
"Murray," and we have, moreover, procured the services of a coachman who
has been familiarized with the country by thirty years' experience. Thus
far, therefore, we have nothing to desire but fine weather, which has
been very rare since my arrival; tempests, showers, and downpours being
the order of the day. However, choosing one morning of unusual promise,
we start off at seven o'clock, prepared for the best or the worst; a
description of the superb pine-forests and romantic valleys of the Doubs
being reserved for the next chapter.