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.