The Toilers of the Sea by Victor Hugo Read Free Book Online Page B

the sand brought in by the tide, forming a kind of basin in which the residues left by the sea accumulate; at first it is only an alluvial deposit, then it is an islet, then grass grows on it and it becomes an island. The owners of the land bordering the shore claim, in spite of latent contradiction by the government, that these formations belong to them. Monsieur Henry Marquand was good enough to sell me one of them. It is a pretty little island with rocks and grass. I paid three francs for it.
    To prevent the haystacks from being carried away by the wind, chains from boats are laid over them. In the fields on the west coast, where hurricanes have freedom of action, the trees are on the defensive, bending down in unnatural attitudes, like athletes. There are no flowers in the gardens of the west, and the ingenious proprietors make good the lack with plaster statues. The yew trees in the gardens of cottages, clipped low and widening toward the foot, are like round tables, of a convenient shape for dogs to scratch their backs on. The walls are topped by lines of large round boulders.
    Sometimes, on the deserted shore, there is a tower occupied by a soldier and his wife and children. These coastal towers are called Martello towers after their inventor. The tower provides comfortable accommodation for the soldier’s family. The casemate serves as a bedroom; the wife does her cooking and her laundry; the cradle is next to the cannon, and the embrasure forms an alcove; from the distance smoke can be seen emerging peaceably from the top section of the tower, which has become a kitchen. In the Norman isles the main concern of domestic servants, who are seen perpetually kneeling in front of the house door, is to keep the doorstep white—an activity that wears away a lot of sandstone. The same fashion is found in Holland: on the day when the sheets are as white as the steps of the staircase a great progress will have been achieved.
    The archipelago has an abundance of plants that are excellent for medicinal purposes or for cooking, though they are rather disdained by the inhabitants. They are surprised to see the French eating salads of dandelions, lambs’ lettuce, and what they call
sarcle,
which they say is “as bitter as gall.” It is necessary to beware of a large, squat species of mushroom found on salt meadowland known as a toadstool. All over the island, even outside cottages, you will see flagstaffs; for it is a great satisfaction to an Englishman to deck his house with a flag.
    Laid out on the short turf of the untilled land to dry in the wind and sun are black cakes of peat cut from the local bog. The large fields of communal grazing at L’Ancresse have gates that half-naked children will open for you for a penny. Poor children have free schools, officially known as ragged schools. Such harsh terms are quite acceptable to the English. On some steamships you will see a notice beside the helmsman: “Do not speak to this man.” In France we would say: “Please do not speak to the helmsman.” If you are curious to see the gulf that separates a “man” from a “gentleman,” you must go to England. In this respect the Channel Islands are England.
    Any manual work makes you a “man.” The duc de Caumont-La Force, an émigré who worked as a bookbinder, had become a “man.” Vicomtesse ***, who had sought refuge on Jersey, suffered the poverty of exile and swept out her own room. The old woman from whom she rented the room, a Mrs. Lamb, used to say: “She looks after herself; she does all her own work, whatever has to be done. She’s not a lady; she’s a woman.”
    Ribeyrolles 37 used to work in his garden, wearing a smock. “He’s but a portioner,” said the neighbors. One of the Hungarian exiles, Colonel Katona, performed for General Mezzaros all the services that an aidede-camp performs for his general. This classed him as a