The visit of the ladies of Charity

The following short story by Maastricht’s famous writer Alphonse Olterdissen, especially translated from the Maastricht dialect for Crossroads, gives us a unique insight into the lives of the lower classes in Maastricht at the beginning of the 20th century.

The visit of the ladies of Charity

It was a Monday morning. The early springtime sun started to diffuse its warmth and sent a pleasant ray of light here and there in the narrow, damp alley leading to the Market Square.

Master Baltus, an old pensioner who as a young man had worked in the Dutch East Indies, came trudging through the dark passage toward the street door, shaking on his crutches, to warm up his poor lame body and to get a breath of fresh air. He leaned with his crutches against the doorpost, looked quietly to and fro, or pinched his eyes a little to let the sun gently shine on his face.

There was a pole standing at the entrance of the alley, to prevent carts from entering it, and now Jeannet “the cat” was leaning against it, basking a bit in the sun as well. She had broken her arm and was wearing a broad bandage. She was keeping a watchful eye, because the ladies of Charity were about to come, and she had to make sure to be home to receive them.

Her children were already walking barefoot around the house, for she had made them take off their shoes and stockings in view of the visit, and now they were sauntering about on the pavement and feeling bored.

Neleke, the eldest, stood sucking her thumb. Out of habit she scratched her thin flaxen hair which was hanging in small strings about her head and looked around for some diversion. Then she noticed master Baltus. She saw him standing there with his eyes closed, and so she went and stood right before him to measure him up. He opened his eyes just when Neleke thought she had looked at him long enough. All of a sudden, she stuck out her tongue and said:
- “Dirty fellow!”

Master Baltus pretended not to hear it and looked away past her, but this didn’t please Neleke.
- “Dirty fellow!” she said again.
- “Hold your tongue, little snot!” grumbled master Baltus, irritated, and this did please Neleke: now she could get going.
- “Dirty old fellow!” she repeated a few times.

Suddenly, master Baltus lost his patience. He lifted a crutch to strike Neleke a blow, but, unfortunately, he let it slip out of his hands and it went rattling on the paving stones. Neleke immediately picked it up and as if suddenly possessed by the devil, started dancing around like a puppet, holding the crutch high above her and singing over and over again:
- “Dirty old fellow, dirty old fellow!”

Now Baltus’ daughter-in-law came running out of the passage, grabbed the crutch out of Neleke’s hands, and gave her a sound box on the ears. Unfortunately, Jeannet saw it all from a distance.
- “Ho, there!” she yelled, “Keep your paws away off my child, and smack your own children!”
- “Why then is she bullying the old man?” retorted the daughter-in-law.

- “What’s going on, Jeannet?” asked Janneske “the hump”, her husband, who had just come back home. His work was to drive the cattle and other livestock from the railway station on the Market Square to the slaughter house.
- “Well”, said Jeannet, “why is this queer bag of bones touching my child?” And with her one hand she swept the tears from Neleke’s small freckled face.

Janneske twisted his large face into angry wrinkles and grumbled something like: “Damned women, always fussing, and … don’t let this happen again, or else I’ll interfere”. Then he went through his own little front door, which stood just opposite the one of the man from the East-Indies. The daughter-in-law gave back the crutch and Jeannet returned to her former spot, with Neleke hanging at her skirt, for she didn’t want to be quarrelling when the ladies would come.

And, yes indeed, here they were coming, all smartly dressed up, each one with a little notebook in her muffle, and fully aware of the distinguished dignity with which they accomplished their charity work. One of them, a tall and skinny spinster, had a robust nose, which was striking indeed, and the other one, short and plump, always revealed her front teeth, because her upper lip slightly curled upward. They visited nearly every house, and inquired after what was needed.

Master Baltus saw them coming, and jumped backward into the passage with his crutches, to warn his daughter-in-law at the back while Jeannet shuffled behind the ladies, to receive them at her door. She anxiously kept looking at every house the ladies went into. Now it was Baltus’ family’s turn, and afterwards they would surely come to her own house.

The two ladies stayed inside for a while, but when they came out again, they walked with haughty faces past Jeannet’s house and into the next one.

What was happening to her now? She waited until the ladies came out again, and then she blocked their way.
- “Just a moment, please”, she began, “what is this, are you not coming to me?”
- “No, my good woman”, answered the tall lady, “not today”.
- “And why not?”
- “That’s none of your concern”, declared the thick lady, and she thought she could get away without further explanation. But that was quite a mistake!
- “Am I to get nothing? Oh, I understand! I think this scandalmonger across the street told you that I was drunk when I broke my arm. That woman is such a treacherous dog!”

And turning to master Baltus, who had shown the ladies out and resumed his earlier spot in the sun, she suddenly shouted out in a loud, high-pitched voice:
- “I’m sure that wicked daughter-in-law of yours has been slurring me, you ugly lame dried-up East-Indies old man!”

Baltus didn’t answer and winked at the ladies, as if he wished to say: “We all know who’s talking,” and the ladies took advantage of the moment to shuffle past Jeannet and walk into the next door as fast as possible, thinking that they were now free from her. Jeannet, however, posted herself at the door to observe what the ladies were going to do inside.

- “Keep the lid on the kettle, Triene, or else that tall peeper will stick her nose into it to check what you’re cooking”, she yelled, and the tall lady came out very indignant and informed Jeannet that she was going to tell the other ladies how impudent she was, and that she certainly would never receive anything anymore. Now Jeannet’s gall was overflowing.

- “Triene!” she cried to her neighbour, “look at this woman’s nose, what a parrot! If I had such a nose, I would jump into the canal within the hour!”

The ladies thought fit to take their heels as quickly as possible, and left Triene’s dwelling with bright red faces. But now they were entirely handed over to the heathen, especially when the short plump one said in passing in her resolute way:
- “For shame, my good woman, this is inadmissible. We’ll report it.”
- “Listen to this! That woman with her strange teeth wants to take a high line. I’d be better off without you, with your undershirts and clogs, do you know that? I don’t want anything from you, with your ugly set of wolf teeth, nor from you, queen of noses, with your velvet coat. What a nose model we’ve got walking here, just like a blocked and leaking roof gutter.”

Now the daughter-in-law barged in. She had just pushed master Baltus aside, when Jeannet got some reinforcements, too: from Janneske, her husband, who appeared in his little doorway, and Neleke, her small daughter, who started clinging onto her apron.
- “Just let her yell insults, my dear miss”, said the daughter-in-law. “We’re used to it, with this wretch. She always raises hell in the whole alley.”
- “It is Monday again, and then this vixen always has the devil in her body”, added master Baltus, who had just been allotted a straw mattress. He had hardly opened his mouth, however, when Janneske suddenly stood before him with his large face.
- “Go back inside, master Baltus, don’t meddle”, he burst out, and master Baltus, in a fright, jumped two steps backward into the passage.

- “She wants to pass comment on other people’s noses”, the daughter-in-law continued, “but that red snout on her own face is no small thing, either. Red from the gin, isn’t it?
- “And SHE won’t have any gin only when she can’t get hold of any”, scoffed Jeannet, pointing at the daughter-in-law. “But she’d also rather have a shot than a plate of Momus soup!”

Hearing the word “soup”, master Baltus jumped forward again:
- “Calm down, Jeannet”, he said, “leave the ladies in peace now. We need them to get through the winter.”
- “Master Baltus, now for the last time, go inside and don’t interfere”, warned Janneske, who in an instant stood with his big face before the old man again, who in his turn jumped two steps backward again into the passage.

- “Let them feed on their own broth”, shouted Jeannet, who realised that from now on her chance for bread and soup tickets was gone forever. “Let them stuff themselves stiff on that dishwater. Anyway, she doesn’t need it. Every Monday, she walks with a basket from door to door, and every Sunday they have minced meatballs in the soup!”
- “Ah, miss, don’t you believe such things”, objected the daughter-in-law, and she laid a hand upon her heart, and looked upward, as if calling upon heaven as a witness.

- “Yes, minced meat, … in the soup … minced meat”, persisted Jeannet, pleased that she had touched the other one. “Such an ugly … ugly …” she couldn’t find a word which was ugly enough.
- “Mum, say slut, or else she will say it herself”, urged Neleke.
- …“Such an ugly slut!” decided Jeannet.

But master Baltus now thought that their neighbour was making a serious attack against his family’s welfare allowance. With a long leap forward, he was at the door again.
- “She’s lying, ladies, she’s lying”, he protested, “We haven’t seen a scrap of minced meat for a year. Jeannet, you are a bitch …”

The word was barely out of his mouth, when Janneske punched him on the chin with his fist, so that Baltus came tumbling down with his crutches, as if somebody had thrown a set of skittles down the passage. Now the daughter-in-law’s gall was overflowing too, and with a long grasp she grabbed Jeannet’s bonnet and pulled it off her head, together with a whole tuft of hair.

Jeannet, with her broken arm, couldn’t defend herself, but she started shouting:
- “Minced meat!”
And when she couldn’t bring the words out quickly enough, she tapped on her mouth with her free hand while shouting: “… Yes … every Sunday … in the soup … minced meat!”

The poor ladies were standing in a large circle of inquisitive people, who had turned up from all sides. “Now or never”, the small plump one seemed to think, and with a speed that made everybody move aside, she pushed her way through the circle, with the tall one at her heels.

With heads red like those of trumpet players in a wind band, they came out of the alley, and felt a great surge of relief when they saw a policeman on the Market Square. He was approaching to see why people were assembling. From far away they could still hear Jeannet, shouting above the crowd:
- “Minced meat; minced m-e-e-eat!”

By Alphonse Olterdissen

Translated by Hennie Reuvers

Dr Reuvers (1951) is a retired teacher of mathematics from Maastricht. He likes to solve math problems, but is also interested in history. He is married and the father of four children. Check his website at http://www.petericepudding.com

Further information:
You can read and listen to the original story in the Maastricht dialect: “Het bezeuk vaan de Dames vaan de Charité” at LibriVox.

Dr Reuvers has kindly written another translation which follows the original text in Mestreechs more closely. There are words however, like ‘zieg’, ‘al’, ‘ins’, ‘zoe’, which can’t easily be translated. They create a relaxed tone. The bilingual text is available here.

And last but not least, Dr Reuvers has also translated the original text into standard modern Dutch. It is available on his website.

More photographs

Alphonse Olterdissen (1865-1923) was a teacher of art with a German father and a Dutch mother. He wrote many stories and musicals, and co-organised many parades in Maastricht.

Kwadevliegenstraat. This street has been broken away to build the Wilhelmina bridge

Langgrachtje, Maastricht, 1900, source: Ach Lieve Tijd magazine

Lantern, Maastricht, 1958, source: Ach Lieve Tijd magazine

Family in Maastricht, early 20th century

At the “kaffee” (pub), Maastricht 1910, source: Ach Lieve Tijd magazine

Market square in Maastricht, 2006

Jodenstraat in Maastricht, February 2007

Statue of Alphonse Olterdissen by Willem Hofhuizen in Maastricht

(Click here for more information about the statue)