1900
ANGERS
FACTORY OF GUSTAVE BAYOL
Maëlle
Monsieur Bayol offers Maëlle a position not as an apprentice but as a domestic servant.
Maëlle is brutally disappointed, but since she is homeless and without resources, she is in no position to refuse.
“My wife could use some help,” Bayol says as he leads her to his house, which adjoins the carousel factory. The brick structure is not fancy; it is merely a series of small rooms crowded with furniture and books.
Madame Bayol is a broad-faced, unsmiling woman. She sighs when Bayol introduces the “new girl” to her. Maëlle smooths her skirts again, hoping she is presentable; she hasn’t seen herself in the mirror since she left her home, more than twenty-four hours earlier.
“Don’t mind her,” says Monsieur Bayol to Maëlle. “My wife thinks I work too hard. Perhaps one day I will close my famous carousel factory and make small toys for children,” he teases. “I shall sell my concern to Monsieur Coquereau, or Monsieur Chailloux. Or perhaps Monsieur Maréchal will take it off my hands.”
“You say that as a joke,” replies Madame Bayol, “but it is what you should do.”
He laughs and leaves the two women standing alone in the parlor, each disappointed for her own reasons.
“He is a foolish man,” mutters Madame Bayol. “As most men are. Come.”
Madame Bayol shows Maëlle to a small room off the kitchen. It is furnished with a narrow cot, a coiled-rag rug, and a low chest of drawers topped by a pitcher and a chamber pot.
“You may leave your things here,” Madame Bayol says. “Wash up, and then you will help me to prepare lunch. The married workers go home to eat with their wives and families, but the others eat together here.”
A pot of soup simmers on the stove, and a cast-iron dish, still hot from the oven, holds a piece of beef surrounded by haricots verts, cabbage, and potatoes. Madame Bayol instructs Maëlle to place a chunk of meat in each wide bowl, then cover it with broth. Maëlle’s stomach growls as the aromas waft up, teasing her nose. She hasn’t eaten since her picnic of baguette and ham on the train.
Madame Bayol places a board with bread and cheese on the table, and tells Maëlle to bring up two bottles of wine from the cellar.
The men file in, donning their jackets to appear presentable before sitting down to the midday meal. Maëlle pours wine; though the men have washed the sawdust and grease off their hands and faces, the scent of masculine sweat fills the air.
After the eight men are served, Madame Bayol invites Maëlle to sit beside her at one end of the table. A few of the workers look even younger than Maëlle; they sneak occasional glances at her, but no one addresses her directly. The younger men eat in silence, ceding lunch conversation to their elders. Maëlle catches the names of a few of them. It does not take long to learn that Monsieur Coquereau, the head joiner, is a joker; he laughs and teases throughout the meal. Monsieur Chailloux is quiet, his mind elsewhere, presumably on his designs forfuture carousels. Monsieur Maréchal, the factory foreman, is stern and unsmiling and sits hunched over the table, focused on his food.
But Maëlle’s gaze finds its way, repeatedly, to Léon Morice. He sits to the right of his master, and throughout the meal Bayol seeks his apprentice’s advice regarding several aspects of their work: whether they will be able to meet the expedited schedule for the delivery of a carousel to the city of Nice and whether it is possible to add extra space inside the figure of a cow to place a bellows, so the animal will make a lowing sound as it moves.
After the men have finished the soup, Maëlle and Madame Bayol whisk the plates away and make coffee. Appreciative murmurs arise when Madame Bayol serves the men narrow slices of cherry tart topped with a drizzle of sweet cream.
“I would like to announce a new commission,” says Monsieur Bayol, addressing his staff. He extracts a cream-colored piece of stationery from his jacket’s breast pocket and holds it up, waving it in a theatrical gesture. “I have received a letter of instruction from a Monsieur Yves Clement, proprietor of a country home not far from Avignon.” Fitting half-lens glasses upon the bridge of his nose, Bayol reads:“I wish to commission a carousel, with pigs, dogs, cats, horses, and rabbits, for my beloved wife, Josephine, on our fifth anniversary. We are dearly waiting for our family to come, and hope to fill the halls of Château Clement with the laughter of children. A carousel from the famous house of Bayol will be the perfect addition to our historic château.”
Nods and murmurs are shared up and down the table.
“I have instructed my advocate to make inquiries into the affairs of the family,” Bayol adds. “But I believe the Clement carousel will be a grand opportunity indeed.”
The men grunt their agreement, their chairs screeching as they push away from the table. Talking excitedly, they thank Madame Bayol for lunch, hang up their jackets, and file out of the kitchen to return to work.
Maëlle watches as they leave, longing to join them in the atelier. Instead, she turns her attention to washing the dishes. When thewomen are alone in the kitchen, she asks Madame Bayol, “Is this ‘Clement carousel’ a private commission, then?”
“Yes. It is rare but not unknown.”
“It is hard to imagine a family ordering a carousel. They must be wealthy indeed.”
“Perhaps not wealthy enough,” Madame Bayol answers, scraping flour from her baking board. Pride tinges her voice as she adds, “My husband is a true master. His talents demand the highest fees in all of France. Perhaps this family does not have enough money. This is why he asked his advocate to make inquiries; a commission such as this is not to be taken lightly.”
“But they own a château.”
“Many châteaux are owned by families of dwindling fortunes,” Madame Bayol says, shaking her head as she stores the leftover flour in a canister. “After the wars, and with the economy of our Third Republic... things have changed. The families are merchants and farmers, not the aristocracy of old; in fact, many bought their châteaux recently from the displaced aristocracy, not realizing how much they cost to maintain.”
