CHAPTER XXIX
EXPANSION OF THE COMPANY OF DAUGHTERS OF CHARITY
EXPANSION OF THE COMPANY OF DAUGHTERS OF CHARITY
In the beginning, the Daughters of Charity's field of action was limited to Paris. It was here that they were being asked for by the charities. Very soon they were established in every parish where there was a confraternity. The aspirants, or seminary sisters, continued to live in Louise de Marillac's house which was the mother house of the community. [1] But this soon became too small for their needs and they had to look for another house. Finding one wasn't easy because money was scarce. In 1636 they rented a small house in the village of La Chapelle to the north of Paris and not far from the capital. [2] Some years later, in 1641, they had to move again. The house they chose, and again it was a rented one, was opposite Saint Lazare in the parish of Saint Laurent. Soon after they moved in Vincent bought the property for 12,000 livres because at that time the company was not officially recognised. In 1653 it was sold by public auction to Mlle. Le Gras who had at her disposal the 9,000 livres bequeathed her by Mde. la Présidente Goussault. The property was now valued at 17,650 livres and the difference in the price was met by donations from other ladies. The Daughters of Charity now had their own mother house at last. Improvements and extensions were begun during the lifetime of both Founders and were continued in later years. It remained the mother house until the French Revolution, a century and a half later. [3]
"May the company be rooted in humility."
The mother house was not just an administrative centre. Guided and inspired by Louise de Marillac, the sisters there did the same works as those taken on by all the other houses; they visited the sick, instructed young girls and gave medicines to those who came to their door... [4]
Life was hard and they had to live within a tight budget. Vincent and Louise wanted it to serve as a model for the other foundations. The house had neither a pump nor a well so the sisters went to the public fountain where they saw many disedifying things, heard scandalous talk and were insulted and badly treated. One day, the sister who was responsible for fetching the water couldn't stand it any longer. She picked up her pails and straightaway headed for Saint Lazare. Just at that momemt Vincent came out. He listened to the sister's complaints and then took the buckets, filled them from the well in that house, and then carried them back himself. [5] Not long afterwards, Mlle. Le Gras obtained permission from the municipal authorities to use water from the public supply system outside her house for domestic purposes. [6]
Extensions were made to the house when funds allowed. Louise and Vincent both agreed that the new buildings should avoid any suggestion of luxury. Louise even wanted them to use old stone that had been discoloured by the weather, if they could. And Vincent admitted that in a spirit of poverty he had decided not to renovate one of the buildings.
"Whenever M. le Lieutenant comes here he never stops remonstrating with me... When he complains I just laugh and I don't tell him why I won't have the repairs done but the real reason is that I want the company to be rooted in humility and to imitate, as fas as possible, the Son of God's manner of acting." [7]
Louise in her turn, tackled the architect.
"May I remind you" she wrote, "that it is absolutely essential for this building to reflect the simple style of a village house and it must be as unpretentious as possible. I know that you are accustomed to doing things on a grand scale and that you will find it hard to go to the other extreme, but when you reflect on what I told you, that it is absolutely necessary for the survival of our company that it be poor and lowly in all things, then you will realise that this is Our Lord's work and you will even be happy to contribute to it." [8]
"You are being asked for on all sides."
The Sisters in Paris worked in the parish charities and also served in another five establishments set up for particular works, as we shall be seeing later on. In 1638 the works began to extend beyond the boundaries of the capital when a foundation was made at Saint Germain en Laye at the request of Mde. de Chaumont, Superior of the Ladies of Charity in that district. [9]
After that the process of making foundations never stopped. "You are being asked for on all sides", says Vincent on several occasions. [10] And this was true. Most of the requests were made by the Ladies of Charity who asked for sisters to work in their respective confraternities." [11] Some houses, like those of Fontaineblau, Chatillon, and Sedan were royal foundations, while others were set up by bishops or municipalities. The sisters were a good bargain; their food and clothing only cost about 100 livres and some managed on only 75 livres. [12] The lessons of frugality and poverty that the Founder gave to his daughters were not just empty words.
Within a few years the number of houses of the Daughters of Charity increased to fifty, and as well as those founded in the capital there were houses in many parts of France. Between 1638 and 1648 there were twenty new foundations; Saint Germain en Laye, Richelieu, Angers, Nanteuil le Haudouin, Sedan, Issy, Fontenay aux Roses, Liancourt, Crespières, Fontainebleau, Le Mans, Nantes, Maule, Saint Denis, Serqueux, Chantilly, Chartres, Montrueil sur Mer, Fréneville and Valpuiseaux. Another fifteen were established between the years 1648 and 1660; at Hennebont, Montmirail, Brienne, Varize, Bernay, Chateaudun, La Roche Guyon, Sainte Marie du Mont, La Fère, Arras, Cahors, Ussel, Metz, Narbonne, Vaux le Vicomte, Belle Isle sur Mer. And beyond France itself, there was the foundation at Warsaw (1652). The sisters were summoned here, as were the missionaries, by the Queen of Poland. [13]
It would be exaggerated to suggest, as some people have done, that these foundations covered the whole of France. Most of the houses of the Daughters of Charity were concentrated in the Northern half of the country though the foundations made at Ussel, Cahors and Narbonne point to a movement southwards and this would continue relentlessly after the death of the founders.
These were small communities. Most of them had two or three sisters living either in rented accommodation, in the house of the lady of charity who had asked for them, or in lodgings provided by the confraternity, parish or municipality. Very few foundations needed to have more sisters; in most of them there would be about half a dozen. Nevertheless, these small teams scattered over French soil were hardy plants that took root, thus ensuring the extraordinary expansion of the community. The sisters had certainly taken the "solid virtues" to heart.
Parishes, schools, hospitals
There was little variation between the works of one foundation and another.
The main work was serving the poor in their homes and this was done by sisters in practically every house. It was the original work of the community. The sister would go through the streets of the parish carrying the soup pot that the ladies had prepared. She didn't just bring food and medicine to the house but consolation, too, and pious exhortations which the poor needed as much, if not more, than the material help she gave. Sisters were servants, nurses and catechists all rolled into one. They made beds, applied poultices, gave purges, did blood letting, stayed up at night with the sick, and cleaned and scrubbed the rooms of the most abandoned people. Each visit, and especially those made in the evening, gave them the opportunity to teach the truths of religion to these sick people and also to their families, and encourage them to go to confession. They also instructed them in the duties of a Christian. All this they were to do with humility, respect, joy and cordiality and they were to take particular care not to treat the sick in a brusque or disdainful manner even when these refused to take the medicines or behaved roughly. [14]
In each parish one sister would attend to the sick while the other instructed little girls. This, too, was one of the earliest works of the company. Marguerite Naseau, the dairymaid from Suresnes, began her works of charity, as we have already mentioned, by teaching girls to read, once she had learnt this skill herself. Vincent never forgot that first vocation. He wanted all the sisters to learn to read and write so that they could teach others. [15] We find it strange, today, to think that people who had just become literate should be teachers. This situation was due to the backward state of primary education in France during the seventeenth century. The state provided no system of public education at all. The only small contribution it made in this field was to encourage parish priests and curates to procure "prudent, wise, virtuous and diligent teachers." In each village they could impose a tax of 100 or 150 livres a year for this work but such ordinances were a dead letter. [16] In these circumstances any help, however small, that could be given was most valuable. Help given by the sisters was particularly welcome in villages, so half the foundations were made in such places. All they were asked to do was to teach reading and writing, and Vincent trained them in this. Later on he was concerned that they "should learn how to teach" and in spite of some reservations, he allowed tham to go to the Ursulines. He didn't want his daughters to get too involved with nuns and was happier to have them trained by a young lady who had spent six years with the Ursulines. [17] This network of small urban and rural outposts carried out a real teaching apostolate and it is now recognised that they played a very important part in the literacy programme for the female population. [18]
A third work, and one that was to have a decisive influence on the development of the company, was that of nursing the sick in hospitals. Even before the company was formally established, the first sisters had begun to work at the Hôtel Dieu in Paris, as assistants to the ladies. In 1639 they took charge of the hospital at Angers which was the first one to be completely confided to their care, and in so doing they fulfilled the wish that Mde. Goussault had expressed before her death. [19] The work required first nine, and later twelve, sisters. Even though she wasn't well at the time, Louise de Marillac accompanied the first group in person there. The journey by coach and barge took a fortnight. [20] They signed a contract with the municipality and Vincent drew up a special rule for them. [21]
Working in hospitals was different from working in the parishes or in schools and so required a different life style but the same spirit prevailed. Sisters were faithful to community exercises, obedient to superiors and to the doctors, directors and administrators of the hospital and they combined the spiritual and corporal service of the poor as they carried out even the most menial tasks, seeing Jesus Christ in the person of the sick. [22] The hospital at Angers was a success and its history a peaceful one. Vincent was overjoyed. [23]
This success led other municipalities to ask for sisters to work in their hospitals. The authorities didn't always make a clear distinction between working in hospitals and working in old people's homes or orphanages. However, the foundations at Saint Denis, Nantes, Hennebont, Chateaudun, La Fère, Saint Fargeau, Ussell and Cahors were all hospitals in the strict sense of the word. [24] This isn't a complete list because it doesn't as yet include the hospitals in Paris or take into account the occasions when the sisters gave their services in military and civil hospitals in times of war or other public disaster.
Even though Vincent appreciated all the work that was being done in hospitals he didn't want the community to concentrate too much on this work. He was worried that nursing the sick in hospital might eventually take over from the basic work of the company which was to care for poor people in their own homes. [25] At that time it was the policy to have poor and infirm people shut away in institutions where they were isolated from society. This trend was to lead to the founding of the General Hospital in 1657 but Vincent's aim was to have the poor served in their own homes where they would be with their family. For Vincent they were people, and they were like the sacrament of Christ's presence among men.
Difficulties, problems, tribulations.
There was no lack of difficulties, problems or tribulations for the new foundations. Life there could be very hard at times and it tested the mettle of the young girls that Vincent was training. In some cases their lodgings lacked even the most basic amenities, in others they had so little money that the sisters had to go out and beg; in other places they had to contend with local customs which were very much against the rules and spirit of their company, and in several places the administrators or the local clergy showed a want of understanding.
Perhaps the hardest trial of all was endured by the community at Liancourt. As they knelt outside the confessional on the Feast of St. Joseph, 1652, they were met with a torrent of abuse. The confessor, who belonged to the community of Fr. Bourdoise, said to them through the grille, "Go away. You are a bunch of hypocrites. You come here to confess trifling little faults and keep quiet about the horrendous sins you commit. Go and find another confessor. I'm not going to give you absolution."
The sisters were bewildered. Whatever could these words mean? They weren't long finding out. Two young men from the town had been spreading the most terrible calumnies about them. It was said that they admitted strange men into their house at night and during Mass times on Sundays. They described the Sisters as loose women and went into scurrilous details. It was a terrible scandal in that small village. The priests were the first to believe the story and they refused the sisters the sacraments and wouldn't even let them receive communion at Easter. This went on for four months.
One day, Sister Mathurine Guérin, the boldest member of the group, wrote to Vincent, telling him of their tribulations. Vincent immediately informed Louise de Marillac and the foundress of the hospital, the duchess de Liancourt. The duchess hurried to the village and began an investigation. The sisters protested their innocence and Sr. Mathurine said she had complete confidence that God would vindicate her because this was a matter concerning God, even more than the sisters. The director and the parish priest, however, were still convinced that the sisters were guilty.
Like a second Daniel, the duchess summoned the two young men to the inquiry. While she was questioning them, the confessor was hiding in the next room, listening to it all. The two young men immediately embarked on a whole lot of contradictory statements. Pressed by the duchess, they eventually confessed that the whole story was a lie. A public announcement was made that the sisters were innocent and important people, starting with the gullible parish priest, offered their deepest apologies. Sr. Mathurine wanted no revenge and begged that the guilty parties should go unpunished. She was a great hearted soul. In later years she would be in charge of the community as St. Louise's second successor. [26]
The difficulties at Nantes went on for a longer time and there were all sorts of trials. These included disagreements between sisters, tension between the confessor and the Superior, opposition from the bishop who regarded them as nuns, arguments between the sick and the administrators over the question of food, and calumnies and gossip. The strangest thing that happened was in 1653, when a very capable sister was moved to the hospital at Hennebont. The administrators at Nantes didn't want to lose her so they accused her, in front of all her colleagues, of having stolen things from thehospital and said she must therefore return to Nantes with them. The councillors at Hennebont informed the Superior about these charges. This sister was very quick on the uptake, saw through their game, and said to the administrators,
"Look, gentlemen, Sister Martha" (the sister in question was Martha Dauteil) "is a good servant of God and of the poor. She didn't even bring back the rest of her clothes from Nantes. All she had was some medicines and she left these behind for the sick. If you are as much concerned for your hospital as these gentlemen from Nantes are concerned for theirs, then you'll take as much trouble to keep her as they are taking to have her removed.
That openend the Hennebont councillors' eyes.
"Don't worry, Sister," they said, "these gentlemen will get the answer they deserve." [27]
The problems at Fontainebleau and Chantilly were more financial than anything else. These houses were royal foundations and the income due to them was always paid late. The sisters at Chantilly didn't even have enough money to pay their rent so the owners of the house obtained a court order, seized their furniture, and sold it at a public auction. [28]
At Chartres, the sisters had spiritual problems. The parish priest there was a convinced Jansenist. He kept the sisters away from communion and only allowed them to go to confession on rare occasions. This meant the poor sisters couldnm't keep their rules and they had to put up with unpleasant interference in their community life. There was nothing to be done except close the foundation.
"As long as those priests are here," reasoned Vincent, "we can't expect anything else. Besides, I would be very much afraid they might persuade some of the sisters to their way of thinking. The only thing we can do is leave the place." [29]
The foundation at Poland went through a long period of uncertainty because of the twists and turns of the wars, and also, in a way, because of the Queen's whims. The first three sisters arrived in Warsaw in Sept. 1652. Vincent had solemnly bidden them farewell. This was the first time that the company was to cross a frontier. The Founder saw this as the start of a movement which was to see his daughters spread throughout the whole world. The Queen welcomed them very affectionately. [30] It wasn't long, however, before there were problems. The lady ordered two of the sisters to go to Cracow to serve the poor there and the third, sister Marguerite Moreau, to stay at the palace and be her servant.
"Madame, what are you saying?" exclaimed the sister in question. "The three of us are here to serve the poor. You have many other people in your country who are better able to serve your Majesty. Allow us, madame, to do here what God wants of us, the same work that we do in other places."
"So sister, you don't want to work for me?"
"Forgive me, madame, but God has called us to serve the poor." [31]
The sisters' duties were not clearly laid down. They were put in charge of a sort of Noah's ark which housed a number of old people, some orphan children, a few sick people, and even a mother and a daughter who were detained there by royal decree. The Queen, too, was dissatisfied. She asked for better qualified sisters than the first group, to be sent from France and for a Superior who would be on good terms with Mde. Villiers, her lady in waiting, whom she described as a very charitable and humble lady who never gave any cause for complaint. This lady may also have been rather bossy and interfering because as soon as she died the problems disappeared as if by magic. The Queen became fond of the sisters and she would spend a lot of time in their house, talking to them and helping them to spin. Once the troubles of the war were over, she bought them a fine property in Warsaw that had a park, orchard, farm and other buildings. It was here that the sisters established St. Casimir's home for orphan girls."[32]
"Chosen souls spread their perfume everywhere."
Vincent kept in close touch with the problems that beset all the foundations; instructing, encouraging, and reprimanding, as circumstances demanded. He gave the sisters in Paris all the news from the other houses, the good news as well as the bad. Naturally he was happier to relate edifying things and there were plenty of these. The works that sprang from Vincent's creative intuition couldn't possibly have succeeded and developed if it had not been for the virtue and the calibre of a whole host of anonymous sisters who had caught something of his ardent, contagious charity. As we have already seen, he passessed the rare quality of being able to appeal to people's good will and get them to join him in projects. We will give just a few examples.
People had nothing but praise for Sister Jeanne Dalmagne and the virtues she practised. Whenever a sister died it was Vincent's practice to give a conference on the virtues of the deceased. After Sister Jeanne's death the sisters vied with each other in describing her edifying qualities. They spoke of her spirit of faith, her constant joy, her indifference to what she was sent to do, her love for the poor, her extraordinary humility. She used to say, "I don't know how they can use me. I'm no good at anything and never have been."
A former companion of hers said,
"During the eighteen months I lived with her I never observed the slightest imperfection." Another said, "The way she cured some wounded people was miraculous." "One day she went to the Superior to ask for some food for a poor man. The Superior said, 'There's some stale bread there, give him that.' But she answered, "That's not the way we should act, sister. I'll eat that. We should only give good things to God."
Vincent said,
"I tell you, sisters, that whenever I met er I always felt recollected; not because of any virtue on my part, poor wretch that I am, but God allows certain souls to be like musk which fills every place with its sweet perfume." "I have read the lives of many saints and I can tell you that few of them had more love for God and their neighbour than our sister did."
She died a saintly death and Vincent thought they would do well to pray to her in private. She was only thirty three when she died. [33]
Sister Barbe Angiboust, "big Barbara", to use Vincent's phrase, was of a different mould from Sister Jeanne but she was no less saintly. The duchess d'Aiguillon asked Vincent if she could have a Daughter of Charity to serve in her household. Vincent couldn't very well refuse the request considering the lady's rank and the outstanding favours they had received from the duchess. With the consent of Louise de Marillac, he chose Sister Barbara but things didn't turn out the way they expected. Let Vincent tell the story:
"One day I told her to go to the place (the duchess's palace) where I happened to be at the time. The lady was informed that the Daughter of Charity she asked for had arrived. She sent two of her lady companions to fetch her and when these found out what she had come for they said, "You are very welcome, sister. Madame wishes to see you." I told her to go and she followed them, holding back her tears as best she could.
When they went out into the courtyard of that lady's palace she noticed a great number of carriages, almost as many as you would see at the Louvre. She was very astonished at this and said to the ladies, "May I go back? I forgot to tell M. Vincent something." They said "Yes, sister, and we will wait here for you." She came back and said, "Oh Father, where are you sending me? This place is just like the Court." "Come, sister," I answered, "you're going to meet someone who has a great love for the poor." The poor sister went back and she was taken to the lady who embraced her very affectionately and then waited for her attendants to wit draw before she told the sister what she wanted her to do. And athough that sister knew that she could do a lot of good for the poor by living in that palace she was still very sad. She kept sighing and could hardly eat. When the lady we've been talking about noticed this she asked her,"Don't you like being with me, my daughter? And the sister, without trying in any way to hide the reason for her sadness replied, "Madame, I left my parents' house in order to serve the poor. You are a great lady, you are rich and powerful. If you were poor, Madame, I would be very happy to serve you." And she would say the same thing to everybody, "If the lady were poor I would serve her with all my heart, but she is rich." In the end the lady saw that she continued to be sad and upset so after a few days she sent her back." [34]
Love for the poor was the virtue that Vincent emphasised most to his daughters. One day he told them another moving story. A certain Sister Andrée, whom we know nothing about except for her name, was dying. Vincent went to the bedside of the dying woman as was his custom.
"When I put a question to her" he said, "Sister Adrée replied that she felt no regret or remorse for anything except that she had taken too much delight in serving the poor. And I asked her, 'So there is nothing in your past life that worries you, sister? And she answered, "No, Father, unless it is that I felt too much satisfaction in going to the villages to see those good people. I was so happy to serve them that I felt my feet had wings when I went there'... "Have you ever known anything like that? Wouldn't you have to have led a very innocent life to be in such dispositions? Wouldn't you need to have lived a holy life not to have anything troubling your conscience at a moment when even saints themselves have felt threatened by the enemy?" [35]
"All this is a miracle"
Some of the stories that Vincent told were embellished to the point that people began to describe the events as miraculous. He preferred to think of them rather as signs of God's predilection for the company but sometimes he had to see in them an extraordinary intervention of Providence.
One day he was going to preside at an important meeting in the sisters' mother house. Before the meeting began, Mlle. Le Gras went into the room to make sure that everything was in order. It was just at this point that
"a sister heard a creaking noise and told her the room wasn't safe. She took no notice. Then another sister, who was older, said the same thing and out of respect for the older sister she came out and went into the next room (just think, sisters, that was only three steps away) and just then a beam snapped and went crashing to the ground. Would it have worked out like this without God's special intervention? I had to be here that evening as we had to have a meeting to discuss important business. With all the noise that goes on at a meeting nobody would have noticed a creaking beam. That sister wouldn't have been around because sisters don't attend these meetings and we would all have been crushed to death. But God allowed other business to crop up and this detained me and kept all the ladies from going there. All this didn't happen by chance, my daughters; beware of thinking that it did." [36]
This event was to prove highly significant for both Louise de Marillac's spiritual development and for the history of the company. She always looked on it as a sign from Providence and a reminder of God's care for her and for her work. With Vincent's help she tried to understand what Our Lord was trying to tell her through this event; maybe it was that he wanted the destiny of both companies to be more closely linked to each other. [37]
Something else happened that strengthened Vincent's conviction that God was exercising a special providence over the Daughters of Charity. This time, and at Vincent's insistence, the sister involved will tell the story. He said to her,
"What happened, my daughter? I heard that a house had fallen down. Which district was this in? Were you in the house or not? What day did this happen?"
The sister replied that it happened on the last Saturday of carnival week [38] when she was taking soup to a poor person. As she climbed the stairs, a poor water seller who was a little ahead of her called out, "We're done for." She was going up from the first floor to the second and the poor man had just shouted these words when the house began to collapse. Our poor sister was terrified and she crouched down in the corner of one of the landings. The neighbours were very frightened and went to fetch somebody to give the last sacraments to anyone able to receive them. Unfortunately 35 or 40 people were buried under the rubble and only one boy of about eleven was rescued. When the onlookers saw that our sister seemed to be in danger of death, they urged her to jump down and about a dozen of them got ready to catch her. She handed them down the soup pot and they hung this from a hook on the end of a rod. Then, trusting to God's providence, she threw herself into the cloaks that they had spread out. She didn't know how it happened but by God's special providence she found that she was safe; and trembling all over, she went off to serve the rest of the sick people." [39]
"Do you think, my daughters, that God allowed that new house to fall down without his having some special purpose in mind? Do you think that it was just by chance that she escaped completely unhurt? Not at all, my daughters. All this is a miracle. God had ordained it all to show the company the care he is taking of it." [40]
The company was God's work. God had founded it and God was seeing that it would continue.
"May the company be rooted in humility."
The mother house was not just an administrative centre. Guided and inspired by Louise de Marillac, the sisters there did the same works as those taken on by all the other houses; they visited the sick, instructed young girls and gave medicines to those who came to their door... [4]
Life was hard and they had to live within a tight budget. Vincent and Louise wanted it to serve as a model for the other foundations. The house had neither a pump nor a well so the sisters went to the public fountain where they saw many disedifying things, heard scandalous talk and were insulted and badly treated. One day, the sister who was responsible for fetching the water couldn't stand it any longer. She picked up her pails and straightaway headed for Saint Lazare. Just at that momemt Vincent came out. He listened to the sister's complaints and then took the buckets, filled them from the well in that house, and then carried them back himself. [5] Not long afterwards, Mlle. Le Gras obtained permission from the municipal authorities to use water from the public supply system outside her house for domestic purposes. [6]
Extensions were made to the house when funds allowed. Louise and Vincent both agreed that the new buildings should avoid any suggestion of luxury. Louise even wanted them to use old stone that had been discoloured by the weather, if they could. And Vincent admitted that in a spirit of poverty he had decided not to renovate one of the buildings.
"Whenever M. le Lieutenant comes here he never stops remonstrating with me... When he complains I just laugh and I don't tell him why I won't have the repairs done but the real reason is that I want the company to be rooted in humility and to imitate, as fas as possible, the Son of God's manner of acting." [7]
Louise in her turn, tackled the architect.
"May I remind you" she wrote, "that it is absolutely essential for this building to reflect the simple style of a village house and it must be as unpretentious as possible. I know that you are accustomed to doing things on a grand scale and that you will find it hard to go to the other extreme, but when you reflect on what I told you, that it is absolutely necessary for the survival of our company that it be poor and lowly in all things, then you will realise that this is Our Lord's work and you will even be happy to contribute to it." [8]
"You are being asked for on all sides."
The Sisters in Paris worked in the parish charities and also served in another five establishments set up for particular works, as we shall be seeing later on. In 1638 the works began to extend beyond the boundaries of the capital when a foundation was made at Saint Germain en Laye at the request of Mde. de Chaumont, Superior of the Ladies of Charity in that district. [9]
After that the process of making foundations never stopped. "You are being asked for on all sides", says Vincent on several occasions. [10] And this was true. Most of the requests were made by the Ladies of Charity who asked for sisters to work in their respective confraternities." [11] Some houses, like those of Fontaineblau, Chatillon, and Sedan were royal foundations, while others were set up by bishops or municipalities. The sisters were a good bargain; their food and clothing only cost about 100 livres and some managed on only 75 livres. [12] The lessons of frugality and poverty that the Founder gave to his daughters were not just empty words.
Within a few years the number of houses of the Daughters of Charity increased to fifty, and as well as those founded in the capital there were houses in many parts of France. Between 1638 and 1648 there were twenty new foundations; Saint Germain en Laye, Richelieu, Angers, Nanteuil le Haudouin, Sedan, Issy, Fontenay aux Roses, Liancourt, Crespières, Fontainebleau, Le Mans, Nantes, Maule, Saint Denis, Serqueux, Chantilly, Chartres, Montrueil sur Mer, Fréneville and Valpuiseaux. Another fifteen were established between the years 1648 and 1660; at Hennebont, Montmirail, Brienne, Varize, Bernay, Chateaudun, La Roche Guyon, Sainte Marie du Mont, La Fère, Arras, Cahors, Ussel, Metz, Narbonne, Vaux le Vicomte, Belle Isle sur Mer. And beyond France itself, there was the foundation at Warsaw (1652). The sisters were summoned here, as were the missionaries, by the Queen of Poland. [13]
It would be exaggerated to suggest, as some people have done, that these foundations covered the whole of France. Most of the houses of the Daughters of Charity were concentrated in the Northern half of the country though the foundations made at Ussel, Cahors and Narbonne point to a movement southwards and this would continue relentlessly after the death of the founders.
These were small communities. Most of them had two or three sisters living either in rented accommodation, in the house of the lady of charity who had asked for them, or in lodgings provided by the confraternity, parish or municipality. Very few foundations needed to have more sisters; in most of them there would be about half a dozen. Nevertheless, these small teams scattered over French soil were hardy plants that took root, thus ensuring the extraordinary expansion of the community. The sisters had certainly taken the "solid virtues" to heart.
Parishes, schools, hospitals
There was little variation between the works of one foundation and another.
The main work was serving the poor in their homes and this was done by sisters in practically every house. It was the original work of the community. The sister would go through the streets of the parish carrying the soup pot that the ladies had prepared. She didn't just bring food and medicine to the house but consolation, too, and pious exhortations which the poor needed as much, if not more, than the material help she gave. Sisters were servants, nurses and catechists all rolled into one. They made beds, applied poultices, gave purges, did blood letting, stayed up at night with the sick, and cleaned and scrubbed the rooms of the most abandoned people. Each visit, and especially those made in the evening, gave them the opportunity to teach the truths of religion to these sick people and also to their families, and encourage them to go to confession. They also instructed them in the duties of a Christian. All this they were to do with humility, respect, joy and cordiality and they were to take particular care not to treat the sick in a brusque or disdainful manner even when these refused to take the medicines or behaved roughly. [14]
In each parish one sister would attend to the sick while the other instructed little girls. This, too, was one of the earliest works of the company. Marguerite Naseau, the dairymaid from Suresnes, began her works of charity, as we have already mentioned, by teaching girls to read, once she had learnt this skill herself. Vincent never forgot that first vocation. He wanted all the sisters to learn to read and write so that they could teach others. [15] We find it strange, today, to think that people who had just become literate should be teachers. This situation was due to the backward state of primary education in France during the seventeenth century. The state provided no system of public education at all. The only small contribution it made in this field was to encourage parish priests and curates to procure "prudent, wise, virtuous and diligent teachers." In each village they could impose a tax of 100 or 150 livres a year for this work but such ordinances were a dead letter. [16] In these circumstances any help, however small, that could be given was most valuable. Help given by the sisters was particularly welcome in villages, so half the foundations were made in such places. All they were asked to do was to teach reading and writing, and Vincent trained them in this. Later on he was concerned that they "should learn how to teach" and in spite of some reservations, he allowed tham to go to the Ursulines. He didn't want his daughters to get too involved with nuns and was happier to have them trained by a young lady who had spent six years with the Ursulines. [17] This network of small urban and rural outposts carried out a real teaching apostolate and it is now recognised that they played a very important part in the literacy programme for the female population. [18]
A third work, and one that was to have a decisive influence on the development of the company, was that of nursing the sick in hospitals. Even before the company was formally established, the first sisters had begun to work at the Hôtel Dieu in Paris, as assistants to the ladies. In 1639 they took charge of the hospital at Angers which was the first one to be completely confided to their care, and in so doing they fulfilled the wish that Mde. Goussault had expressed before her death. [19] The work required first nine, and later twelve, sisters. Even though she wasn't well at the time, Louise de Marillac accompanied the first group in person there. The journey by coach and barge took a fortnight. [20] They signed a contract with the municipality and Vincent drew up a special rule for them. [21]
Working in hospitals was different from working in the parishes or in schools and so required a different life style but the same spirit prevailed. Sisters were faithful to community exercises, obedient to superiors and to the doctors, directors and administrators of the hospital and they combined the spiritual and corporal service of the poor as they carried out even the most menial tasks, seeing Jesus Christ in the person of the sick. [22] The hospital at Angers was a success and its history a peaceful one. Vincent was overjoyed. [23]
This success led other municipalities to ask for sisters to work in their hospitals. The authorities didn't always make a clear distinction between working in hospitals and working in old people's homes or orphanages. However, the foundations at Saint Denis, Nantes, Hennebont, Chateaudun, La Fère, Saint Fargeau, Ussell and Cahors were all hospitals in the strict sense of the word. [24] This isn't a complete list because it doesn't as yet include the hospitals in Paris or take into account the occasions when the sisters gave their services in military and civil hospitals in times of war or other public disaster.
Even though Vincent appreciated all the work that was being done in hospitals he didn't want the community to concentrate too much on this work. He was worried that nursing the sick in hospital might eventually take over from the basic work of the company which was to care for poor people in their own homes. [25] At that time it was the policy to have poor and infirm people shut away in institutions where they were isolated from society. This trend was to lead to the founding of the General Hospital in 1657 but Vincent's aim was to have the poor served in their own homes where they would be with their family. For Vincent they were people, and they were like the sacrament of Christ's presence among men.
Difficulties, problems, tribulations.
There was no lack of difficulties, problems or tribulations for the new foundations. Life there could be very hard at times and it tested the mettle of the young girls that Vincent was training. In some cases their lodgings lacked even the most basic amenities, in others they had so little money that the sisters had to go out and beg; in other places they had to contend with local customs which were very much against the rules and spirit of their company, and in several places the administrators or the local clergy showed a want of understanding.
Perhaps the hardest trial of all was endured by the community at Liancourt. As they knelt outside the confessional on the Feast of St. Joseph, 1652, they were met with a torrent of abuse. The confessor, who belonged to the community of Fr. Bourdoise, said to them through the grille, "Go away. You are a bunch of hypocrites. You come here to confess trifling little faults and keep quiet about the horrendous sins you commit. Go and find another confessor. I'm not going to give you absolution."
The sisters were bewildered. Whatever could these words mean? They weren't long finding out. Two young men from the town had been spreading the most terrible calumnies about them. It was said that they admitted strange men into their house at night and during Mass times on Sundays. They described the Sisters as loose women and went into scurrilous details. It was a terrible scandal in that small village. The priests were the first to believe the story and they refused the sisters the sacraments and wouldn't even let them receive communion at Easter. This went on for four months.
One day, Sister Mathurine Guérin, the boldest member of the group, wrote to Vincent, telling him of their tribulations. Vincent immediately informed Louise de Marillac and the foundress of the hospital, the duchess de Liancourt. The duchess hurried to the village and began an investigation. The sisters protested their innocence and Sr. Mathurine said she had complete confidence that God would vindicate her because this was a matter concerning God, even more than the sisters. The director and the parish priest, however, were still convinced that the sisters were guilty.
Like a second Daniel, the duchess summoned the two young men to the inquiry. While she was questioning them, the confessor was hiding in the next room, listening to it all. The two young men immediately embarked on a whole lot of contradictory statements. Pressed by the duchess, they eventually confessed that the whole story was a lie. A public announcement was made that the sisters were innocent and important people, starting with the gullible parish priest, offered their deepest apologies. Sr. Mathurine wanted no revenge and begged that the guilty parties should go unpunished. She was a great hearted soul. In later years she would be in charge of the community as St. Louise's second successor. [26]
The difficulties at Nantes went on for a longer time and there were all sorts of trials. These included disagreements between sisters, tension between the confessor and the Superior, opposition from the bishop who regarded them as nuns, arguments between the sick and the administrators over the question of food, and calumnies and gossip. The strangest thing that happened was in 1653, when a very capable sister was moved to the hospital at Hennebont. The administrators at Nantes didn't want to lose her so they accused her, in front of all her colleagues, of having stolen things from thehospital and said she must therefore return to Nantes with them. The councillors at Hennebont informed the Superior about these charges. This sister was very quick on the uptake, saw through their game, and said to the administrators,
"Look, gentlemen, Sister Martha" (the sister in question was Martha Dauteil) "is a good servant of God and of the poor. She didn't even bring back the rest of her clothes from Nantes. All she had was some medicines and she left these behind for the sick. If you are as much concerned for your hospital as these gentlemen from Nantes are concerned for theirs, then you'll take as much trouble to keep her as they are taking to have her removed.
That openend the Hennebont councillors' eyes.
"Don't worry, Sister," they said, "these gentlemen will get the answer they deserve." [27]
The problems at Fontainebleau and Chantilly were more financial than anything else. These houses were royal foundations and the income due to them was always paid late. The sisters at Chantilly didn't even have enough money to pay their rent so the owners of the house obtained a court order, seized their furniture, and sold it at a public auction. [28]
At Chartres, the sisters had spiritual problems. The parish priest there was a convinced Jansenist. He kept the sisters away from communion and only allowed them to go to confession on rare occasions. This meant the poor sisters couldnm't keep their rules and they had to put up with unpleasant interference in their community life. There was nothing to be done except close the foundation.
"As long as those priests are here," reasoned Vincent, "we can't expect anything else. Besides, I would be very much afraid they might persuade some of the sisters to their way of thinking. The only thing we can do is leave the place." [29]
The foundation at Poland went through a long period of uncertainty because of the twists and turns of the wars, and also, in a way, because of the Queen's whims. The first three sisters arrived in Warsaw in Sept. 1652. Vincent had solemnly bidden them farewell. This was the first time that the company was to cross a frontier. The Founder saw this as the start of a movement which was to see his daughters spread throughout the whole world. The Queen welcomed them very affectionately. [30] It wasn't long, however, before there were problems. The lady ordered two of the sisters to go to Cracow to serve the poor there and the third, sister Marguerite Moreau, to stay at the palace and be her servant.
"Madame, what are you saying?" exclaimed the sister in question. "The three of us are here to serve the poor. You have many other people in your country who are better able to serve your Majesty. Allow us, madame, to do here what God wants of us, the same work that we do in other places."
"So sister, you don't want to work for me?"
"Forgive me, madame, but God has called us to serve the poor." [31]
The sisters' duties were not clearly laid down. They were put in charge of a sort of Noah's ark which housed a number of old people, some orphan children, a few sick people, and even a mother and a daughter who were detained there by royal decree. The Queen, too, was dissatisfied. She asked for better qualified sisters than the first group, to be sent from France and for a Superior who would be on good terms with Mde. Villiers, her lady in waiting, whom she described as a very charitable and humble lady who never gave any cause for complaint. This lady may also have been rather bossy and interfering because as soon as she died the problems disappeared as if by magic. The Queen became fond of the sisters and she would spend a lot of time in their house, talking to them and helping them to spin. Once the troubles of the war were over, she bought them a fine property in Warsaw that had a park, orchard, farm and other buildings. It was here that the sisters established St. Casimir's home for orphan girls."[32]
"Chosen souls spread their perfume everywhere."
Vincent kept in close touch with the problems that beset all the foundations; instructing, encouraging, and reprimanding, as circumstances demanded. He gave the sisters in Paris all the news from the other houses, the good news as well as the bad. Naturally he was happier to relate edifying things and there were plenty of these. The works that sprang from Vincent's creative intuition couldn't possibly have succeeded and developed if it had not been for the virtue and the calibre of a whole host of anonymous sisters who had caught something of his ardent, contagious charity. As we have already seen, he passessed the rare quality of being able to appeal to people's good will and get them to join him in projects. We will give just a few examples.
People had nothing but praise for Sister Jeanne Dalmagne and the virtues she practised. Whenever a sister died it was Vincent's practice to give a conference on the virtues of the deceased. After Sister Jeanne's death the sisters vied with each other in describing her edifying qualities. They spoke of her spirit of faith, her constant joy, her indifference to what she was sent to do, her love for the poor, her extraordinary humility. She used to say, "I don't know how they can use me. I'm no good at anything and never have been."
A former companion of hers said,
"During the eighteen months I lived with her I never observed the slightest imperfection." Another said, "The way she cured some wounded people was miraculous." "One day she went to the Superior to ask for some food for a poor man. The Superior said, 'There's some stale bread there, give him that.' But she answered, "That's not the way we should act, sister. I'll eat that. We should only give good things to God."
Vincent said,
"I tell you, sisters, that whenever I met er I always felt recollected; not because of any virtue on my part, poor wretch that I am, but God allows certain souls to be like musk which fills every place with its sweet perfume." "I have read the lives of many saints and I can tell you that few of them had more love for God and their neighbour than our sister did."
She died a saintly death and Vincent thought they would do well to pray to her in private. She was only thirty three when she died. [33]
Sister Barbe Angiboust, "big Barbara", to use Vincent's phrase, was of a different mould from Sister Jeanne but she was no less saintly. The duchess d'Aiguillon asked Vincent if she could have a Daughter of Charity to serve in her household. Vincent couldn't very well refuse the request considering the lady's rank and the outstanding favours they had received from the duchess. With the consent of Louise de Marillac, he chose Sister Barbara but things didn't turn out the way they expected. Let Vincent tell the story:
"One day I told her to go to the place (the duchess's palace) where I happened to be at the time. The lady was informed that the Daughter of Charity she asked for had arrived. She sent two of her lady companions to fetch her and when these found out what she had come for they said, "You are very welcome, sister. Madame wishes to see you." I told her to go and she followed them, holding back her tears as best she could.
When they went out into the courtyard of that lady's palace she noticed a great number of carriages, almost as many as you would see at the Louvre. She was very astonished at this and said to the ladies, "May I go back? I forgot to tell M. Vincent something." They said "Yes, sister, and we will wait here for you." She came back and said, "Oh Father, where are you sending me? This place is just like the Court." "Come, sister," I answered, "you're going to meet someone who has a great love for the poor." The poor sister went back and she was taken to the lady who embraced her very affectionately and then waited for her attendants to wit draw before she told the sister what she wanted her to do. And athough that sister knew that she could do a lot of good for the poor by living in that palace she was still very sad. She kept sighing and could hardly eat. When the lady we've been talking about noticed this she asked her,"Don't you like being with me, my daughter? And the sister, without trying in any way to hide the reason for her sadness replied, "Madame, I left my parents' house in order to serve the poor. You are a great lady, you are rich and powerful. If you were poor, Madame, I would be very happy to serve you." And she would say the same thing to everybody, "If the lady were poor I would serve her with all my heart, but she is rich." In the end the lady saw that she continued to be sad and upset so after a few days she sent her back." [34]
Love for the poor was the virtue that Vincent emphasised most to his daughters. One day he told them another moving story. A certain Sister Andrée, whom we know nothing about except for her name, was dying. Vincent went to the bedside of the dying woman as was his custom.
"When I put a question to her" he said, "Sister Adrée replied that she felt no regret or remorse for anything except that she had taken too much delight in serving the poor. And I asked her, 'So there is nothing in your past life that worries you, sister? And she answered, "No, Father, unless it is that I felt too much satisfaction in going to the villages to see those good people. I was so happy to serve them that I felt my feet had wings when I went there'... "Have you ever known anything like that? Wouldn't you have to have led a very innocent life to be in such dispositions? Wouldn't you need to have lived a holy life not to have anything troubling your conscience at a moment when even saints themselves have felt threatened by the enemy?" [35]
"All this is a miracle"
Some of the stories that Vincent told were embellished to the point that people began to describe the events as miraculous. He preferred to think of them rather as signs of God's predilection for the company but sometimes he had to see in them an extraordinary intervention of Providence.
One day he was going to preside at an important meeting in the sisters' mother house. Before the meeting began, Mlle. Le Gras went into the room to make sure that everything was in order. It was just at this point that
"a sister heard a creaking noise and told her the room wasn't safe. She took no notice. Then another sister, who was older, said the same thing and out of respect for the older sister she came out and went into the next room (just think, sisters, that was only three steps away) and just then a beam snapped and went crashing to the ground. Would it have worked out like this without God's special intervention? I had to be here that evening as we had to have a meeting to discuss important business. With all the noise that goes on at a meeting nobody would have noticed a creaking beam. That sister wouldn't have been around because sisters don't attend these meetings and we would all have been crushed to death. But God allowed other business to crop up and this detained me and kept all the ladies from going there. All this didn't happen by chance, my daughters; beware of thinking that it did." [36]
This event was to prove highly significant for both Louise de Marillac's spiritual development and for the history of the company. She always looked on it as a sign from Providence and a reminder of God's care for her and for her work. With Vincent's help she tried to understand what Our Lord was trying to tell her through this event; maybe it was that he wanted the destiny of both companies to be more closely linked to each other. [37]
Something else happened that strengthened Vincent's conviction that God was exercising a special providence over the Daughters of Charity. This time, and at Vincent's insistence, the sister involved will tell the story. He said to her,
"What happened, my daughter? I heard that a house had fallen down. Which district was this in? Were you in the house or not? What day did this happen?"
The sister replied that it happened on the last Saturday of carnival week [38] when she was taking soup to a poor person. As she climbed the stairs, a poor water seller who was a little ahead of her called out, "We're done for." She was going up from the first floor to the second and the poor man had just shouted these words when the house began to collapse. Our poor sister was terrified and she crouched down in the corner of one of the landings. The neighbours were very frightened and went to fetch somebody to give the last sacraments to anyone able to receive them. Unfortunately 35 or 40 people were buried under the rubble and only one boy of about eleven was rescued. When the onlookers saw that our sister seemed to be in danger of death, they urged her to jump down and about a dozen of them got ready to catch her. She handed them down the soup pot and they hung this from a hook on the end of a rod. Then, trusting to God's providence, she threw herself into the cloaks that they had spread out. She didn't know how it happened but by God's special providence she found that she was safe; and trembling all over, she went off to serve the rest of the sick people." [39]
"Do you think, my daughters, that God allowed that new house to fall down without his having some special purpose in mind? Do you think that it was just by chance that she escaped completely unhurt? Not at all, my daughters. All this is a miracle. God had ordained it all to show the company the care he is taking of it." [40]
The company was God's work. God had founded it and God was seeing that it would continue.
