Une vie ...
AUTOBIOGRAPHY WRITTEN BY MAXIMILIEN PIDERIT ( Meudon June 1946)
Translation from French by his grand daughter Martine (Le Plessis -Bouchard October 25 2008)
My father, CHARLES EDOUARD PIDERIT was born in Detmold in the principality of Lippe on April 3 1835.
Detmold is located in a very picturesque place in the middle of the famous forest of Teutberg where Varus, Roman governor of Gaul and Belgium, was massacred with his 3 Roman legions in the year 9 B.C..
My father died in Paris on February 22 1906 in Auteuil, 17 rue Michel Ange. This flat was on the first floor, with a big balcony overlooking rue Michel Ange and on the other two sides, overlooking a big garden which still exists.
He had withdrawn in this flat at the end of his life, thinking the mansion he had inhabited for nearly 50 years, located 106 Boulevard Excelmans was too big for him alone after my brother and I left for Africa.
This mansion, one of the most beautiful in Auteuil had 21 rooms among which a big reception room and next to it, a large dining room , and a small living room, large kitchens, a billiard room , linen rooms etc... The whole place was richly furnished, particularly the reception room which gave access to the garden through a glass door and had two big windows. It was furnished with Louis XV furniture, the walls were covered with blue brocade silk, there were a bookcase and a big table inlaid with nacre and adorned with golden bronze. Paintings and drawings by J F Rousseau and JF Millet, as well a s a portrait of my father by Artigue whom my father knew, which adorned the walls. The whole floor was covered with a huge Persian carpet. Then the dining room was furnished with stern looking black furniture. It also opened directly onto the garden and was slightly smaller than the reception room and opened onto it through two double doors and a two way mirror above the marble fire places of the 2 rooms. It was covered with embossed leather framed with wood panelling. The heating came from the cellar thanks to a hot air heating system.
From his marriage with Louise Henke born on October 6 1847 and deceased on December 13 1932, he had 3 children ( after a first child stillborn). The eldest child, my sister Hélène Louise nicknamed Nonna was born on February 11 1870 in Auteuil and died in 1943 in Unna. The second child was Maximilian Charles born in Unna on July 4 1873 and the third one was Arthur Charles born on November 26 1875 in Auteuil .
My father was the son of Doctor Carl Piderit, councillor to the Prince of Lippe, medical doctor practising in Detmold, greatly renowned, he still today has his memorial in the town of Detmold. He founded the hospital in this town. He had, if I am not mistaken, 4 sons and 3 daughters. The eldest one Carl Theodor, son of a first marriage, was also a doctor and emigrated to Chili, in South America to practice his profession, and rapidly made a fortune. He retired to live off his private income in his homeland in Detmold. A second son Adolph died in 1860 in the USA as a young soldier fighting on the Southern side in the Civil War, saying to a companion: "Tell my father that I fell as a brave soldier, with a bullet in the chest." This man came especially to tell this to my grand father who had asked him to come after the war ended.
His youngest son, Leon settled as a farmer. He had first a farm near Lüneburg called Schnellenberg and after a farm near Bremen in Sanct Magnees where he welcomed me in such a friendly way when I was in Bremen. He had 9 children, only 3 of whom are still alive : Emma, Nonna and Elisabeth, all of them unmarried and childless.
My father, as soon as his young age, was also eager to see the world and travel. About the age of 20, he left his parents for Chili, in those days a long crossing on a sailing ship. He intended to make his career in the trading profession and entered the Huth &Co business firm in Valparaiso where he lived very happily for several years. He filled everybody with admiration because of his fair hair and blue eyes unknown in Chili in those days.
On his return from Chili, he settled in Paris as a trading agent, where his business flourished for nearly 40 years continuously remaining in touch with Huth & Co ,which also had a very renowned business firm in London and where my father had unlimited credit (which he hardly ever used).
My father's last business place was 17 Rue Bleue in Paris. His marriage with Louise Henke, after a few years, was unhappy. His wife, though spoilt by my father who was greatly in love with her, was the object of intrigues by her family in Germany. I saw letters about it, advising her to leave my father to come and live with them, persuading her he would be obliged to pay her an alimony. As a result, as it is often the case when strangers or relatives interfere with a young couple, the relationship between my father and my mother was more and more tense, as one could expect.
One day, my mother left my father, without telling him, taking with her my eldest sister to Germany to her mother's in Unna. She tried to harm him in his business, writing to Huth & Co in London, who did not take it into account in any way, but warned my father about it (as they had known him for many, many years and totally trusted him)
Afterwards, my mother tried to make it up with my father, but he had suffered too much and my mother had to stay with her mother, a cantankerous and very avaricious woman and she was very unhappy until her mother's death. Then she inherited from her and lived with my sister in a flat in Münster. My poor sister had to suffer the worst consequences. She did not want to get married so that my mother would not be by herself and devoted her life looking after her.
When my mother left the marital home in Auteuil, I was not seven and a half. My father was totally distraught and put me in a boarding school in Neuilly. The Winter school which had been strongly recommended to him, was actually a bankrupt business. I was most unhappy there and I who had been so used to being well cared for, who had been so much surrounded and loved, I abruptly found myself without any friends, without any care and badly nourished.
My father often came to see me when he could, to fetch me so that I could spend Sundays in Auteuil. But I was totally heart broken when I had to go back to that "crummy hole".
It is from those days that I attribute my withdrawn character and some shyness, as I could never be the confident lively little boy I had been until then again. One evening, in the boarding school, I prayed God fervently so that he would deliver me from that hell and, by some miracle, on the next morning I was sent off to my father's! I had caught the scarlet fever and ... ... at the boarding house we slept in a dormitory!
I never left my father's house until the age of 18 after studying in the high school Janson de Sailly, and afterwards at Monge School where I got the Bac
(high school degree) and improved languages.
Then I did my training with a coffee trading business firm called W. Lucanus in Sögestrasse in Bremen.
I was the youngest trainee and had quite a hard life, from 8 a.m until 8.30 in the evening, with one hour for lunch. And on Sunday mornings I also worked. This did not only help me learn how to burn coffee samples on a spirit lamp for the boss to taste or go and take delivery of the coffee in the harbour at 3 in the morning, but it also hardened me and made me understand Life.
Moreover there was a brother of my father's, Leo who lived in St Magnus near Bremen and had 9 children, where I was welcomed with open arms every Sunday. My aunt, a woman full of love, intelligent and kind hearted called me her "eldest child". I have always kept for this noble hearted woman a veritable veneration and I am still corresponding with her surviving children, particularly with Elisabeth and Otto who came to visit us in Meudon in1945 or 1946. My father gave me an allowance at that time, which enabled me to have no worries, and I started to make some business on my own account.
I came back to Paris after taking a few Spanish lessons in Bremen. I could speak German well and my high school years had given me enough notions of the English language to manage well.
My brother being in London to complete his knowledge of English, I went to that town and visited it thoroughly. After a few weeks I came back to Paris to get acquainted with my father's business. And decided to get to know Latin America and the world ... ... as it was now my aim.
So I left on the steamship "Brazil" of the Messageries Maritimes Ship company January 4 1895 and I visited Brazil, the "coffee country", Rio de Janeiro, Bahia, Pernambouc etc... ...
I was particularly keen on learning about the different populations I met and what I liked most was the popular market places, where you can watch people in their genuine environment. Unfortunately, I did not manage at all with Portuguese, though it has some similarities with Spanish.
Then I visited Argentine where I was lucky to be able to recover a 300 000 Franc debt, which a customer owed my father. I had learnt that the Director of the firm Alüget& Maureil, who pretended they could not pay back anything, could afford to finance the building of a covered market in Buenos Aires. I was quite lucky to be able to put the embargo on this nice little packet and my father was paid back.
I left Buenos Aires for Chili on a burning hot day. Every one who had the opportunity, took refuge in the cells, there was no ice left, I who has always enjoyed heat and hot countries, I was stifling. 24 hours later I was splashing about in the everlasting snows at the top of the Cordillera , 4800 meters high, making for Chili. I still have a few photos of the passage across the Cordillera (Raspallat, La Cumbre etc... ...) and I still remember the various incidents after over 50 years. Mountain sickness bothered a few people in our caravan riding on mule backs and at nights, the corrugated iron sheds were very uncomfortable. Today you can go on the same trip in a nice Pullman or in a modern carriage going through a tunnel with a direct railway line going from Buenos Aires to Valparaiso.
In Valparaiso, 
I did some business and informed my father about a few big customers, working meanwhile in a fabric firm called Kruger & co for my living. I quickly got acquainted and became friends with the Chilean population, uncultivated but trustworthy people, all the more as I was an excellent horse-rider and was able to rival with some gauchos, when we went hunting or horse racing.
I particularly remember a challenge offered to me by some natives to race down to the railway station. I bet a bottle of champagne and I won, as they had not dared cross a river, horse riding, because of the stream and had chosen to ford the river further away. I must say that I had a very strong good horse which had been lent to me by the owner of the farm where I had stayed the night before.
Such dances as the "Quoka" accompanied by such drinks as the "Checha" (a drink necessarily drunk from the same jar by the whole company) filled my evenings as well as invitations in the families.
One day, I was rescued,thanks to a providential stroke of luck,in the bay of Valparaiso where I was swimming and where a violent stream due to the ebb of the sea had dragged me away at a very big distance from the coast. I tried unsuccessfully to swim sideways against the current to avoid being drifted out to sea, but my strength totally deserted me when I saw a shell covered wooden post to which I clung. My blood reddened the water around me, as the shells were as sharp as razor blades, but I was determined not to loosen my grip. Fortunately, some people in a nearby fort had seen my distress and a life boat was sent to my rescue.
I had saved up some money and I was eager to see other countries and one day I left Valparaiso for Madagascar against the definite will of my father, whom I however loved so much and whose advice I had always been willing to follow.
I had to travel for 3 months on a steamship which first called at Lisboa where I had to be quarantined because of cases of plague which had occurred on board. Then I took another boat from Lisboa to Madagascar .
As my means were limited to the savings I had personally made, I had to travel on the upper deck on hay sheaves, which I preferred to the vermin infested lower deck cabins
But I managed to reach Madagascar where I met Colonel Lyautey (future Marshal of France, governor of Mananjary.) Thanks to him, I could get 500 acres of very good alluvial land on the Mananjary river infested with caimans and on the bay infested with sharks!
Before I got off the steamboat, seeing the coast which was very close, I refused to have breakfast on board, as it used to be disgusting, but later I wished I had accepted, because we were disembarked with the bundles of goods on barges driven by African rowers who did not manage to row against the current and reach the coast. So I stayed 48 hours without eating anything except 2 bananas. Other barges went down with all hands, drifted away by the current I had to resort to force to prevent another barge which was getting off its anchor from clinging to ours whose anchor resisted the current just enough not to be drifted away in our turn. The situation was quite unpleasant, as I was lying on the deck, separated from the sharks which seemed to be waiting for us everywhere around, by a small side only a few centimetres high .The barge was violently shaken and I had a fellow traveller to hold back so that he would not fall to the sea, as he was dead tired out of sea sickness. Eventually, someone on a pirogue fetched us and I arrived in Mananjary washed out and starving. There we could find food.
I set up a little commercial business, sending salt carried by natives from the coast to the inland region of the high plateaux in Tananarive and they came back carrying potatoes as they did not grow on the coast and no salt could be found in Tananarive. My lands were on the left bank of the Mananjary in Tsiatousk, half a day away from Mananjary, on a pirogue rowed by 3 men and I had built up a ravanale leaf made store for my trading transactions which were to pay my expenses : coffee and rubber plantations whose seeds I had obtained from Brazil. After discouraging results with these seeds, I found the means to make them germinate, filing them off before sowing so that it made them open out more easily.
The business was getting prosperous, when I fell ill with the terrible malaria, endemic in this area. I was on the point of death and had fallen unconscious, when Lyautey, whom I was acquainted with, was warned and straight away had me taken aboard a liner bound for Laurenço Marques in Mozambique where there was a hospital specialised in tropical diseases. So how astounded I was, when I came back to life on a ship berth instead of my Ravanele leaf shed in Triatousk. When I came out of hospital, I gave up the idea of going back to Madagascar and obtained 10 000 francs for my forsaken plantations which were bought back by a Maurician.
But before the deal, I had to go on a scouting expedition on Lyautey's request, going upstream on a pirogue all along the Mananjary river so as to inform him about the riverside populations. Indeed we were going through a very disturbed period in Madagascar, just after the conquest of this colony, due to rebellions of natives.
This picturesque and interesting trip lasted several weeks. Going hiking to the Mananjary waterfalls, I had to have the pirogues carried on men's backs, then we resumed our ascent of the same river. I hunted to feed our crew, as the populations seeing the pirogues arriving with me aboard feared reprisals and left their villages momentarily. Yet the custom wanted any traveller to be welcomed in every village with all the fresh supplies he and his men needed. In exchange they were given gifts or money which consisted in French 5 franc silver coins carved into tiny bits which we weighed on tiny scales so as to get the required exact money.
The caimans were numerous and very hard to shoot down though I had a very good Winchester repeater rifle. I was able to shoot only a few of them, one of them was 4 meters and a half long. You have to shoot them in the eye or if necessary in the shoulder, if you don't want the bullet to rebound on its skin.
Birds of paradise and "lou" pigeons were swarming around and I found in the forest very beautiful orchids. Going down the Mananjary, I met a village chief who asserted that I would be able to go down the water falls in that period, on condition an expert guide would run the expedition. I took the risk of this adventure and the frail craft, carved in a tree trunk and loaded, ran down those rapids between the rocks at a speed which I think was 40 miles an hour. The man who steered it had a fantastic skill, having the pirogue pirouetting with right angles, when it was just about to hit a rock, which would have meant everyone's loss.
However, as we went by very close rocks, we shipped water over either side of the pirogue and our food supply and ammunitions were drowned.
My report was optimistic on the whole, though a short time afterwards, the village was attacked and set on fire. I could rescue my warehouse only by pulling down a few nearby huts, which actually was not difficult, as they are built on 4 or 6 wooden pillars and at a high position above, to avoid dampness, insects etc... ... and after a few blows everything had collapsed on the ground.
I still have a few photos of this fire in my albums. In emergency I was sent men from the Foreign Legion who arrived after a forced march. Helped by absinthe, they managed to be there on time under a scorching heat, thus avoiding a more serious destruction, but it was not without excesses, though I did my best to at least calm them down, but even the officers were obliged to turn a blind eye on it, under such circumstances.
When I arrived in Madagascar, slavery still existed. This word "slavery", which, in France, symbolised the worst condition, actually simply consisted in serfdom, which meant giving back the landowner 10% of the crops. The landowner provided accommodation and supported the old people when they could not work any longer.
At the time of the promulgation of the slaves' liberation, I lived at a Hova woman's, the owner of a large surface of land, on which she made about a hundred natives coming from the coast, work. From time immemorial, the light skinned Hovas have been the rulers in Madagascar.They were an ethnic group with very delicate features, their light complexion was said to come from their Asian blood, and they were very intelligent.
The people of the coast, learning they were made "free", understood freedom in their own way, first smashed all the barrels filled with rum, started dancing around the hut all night long, threatening us with death, but the mere sight of our rifles filled them with horror. However we first feared they might set everything on fire.
On the next day, the Hova woman who "owned" them, informed them they were actually free, but that they had to leave her lands straight away, or she would make them leave by gunshot. Meanwhile the rum had been slept off, a few of them however left but came back a few days later, going down on their knees to take them back as "slaves". Actually they did not feel unhappy working for that Hova woman near Triatousk.
After I had recovered in Laurent- Marques, I left for Johannesburg by railway. I studied the possibilities to settle in a healthy country, as I had learnt my lesson from living in unhealthy countries such as the coasts of Madagascar, Mozambique or Zambeze. Then I wrote to my father to suggest I could settle in Johannesburg, and this time, not only did he agree, but he promised to help me. So I went back to Paris in order to purchase my first goods, then set up a small business in Eloffstreet in Johannesburg, specialised in household products and hardware, which soon became so successful that I had to set up much larger stores and warehouses. I imported goods from virtually every producing country, mostly from England, Belgium, Germany and the United States. I had commercial travellers who placed my goods, travelling either by train or in the Cape province, by two wheeled carriages called "Cape cars" and drawn by 4 horses and in the region near Johannesburg, in a light carriage.
My business became so prosperous that I often had to come back to Paris to adjust the prices and deal with the suitable orders, which my authorized representative in Paris was not able to carry out, as he did not know the needs or the trends for the approximately 3000 articles which I sold. Then I asked my younger brother Arthur to become my partner in the business.
I was extremely happy at that time, and when I expressed my happiness in the French Club, I noticed that they somewhat doubted I was sincere. All the same, it was purely and simply the truth, as I have a gift for realising and deeply enjoying any form of happiness.
Some years in Johannesburg remain for me the happiest ones in my life.
The counterpoint came abruptly and unpredictably with the Anglo-Boer war, which lasted nearly 4 years, and in which about 30 000 Boers finally fought against over 300 000 English people, who could only subject them by locking the women and children in concentration camps, where they massively died.
The English had systematically burnt down all the farms, all the stores all over the Transvaal, so as to prevent the Boers from getting fresh supplies.
We underwent huge losses, as we supplied most of the stores, and their debts to us could not be paid back, as nothing was left after those ravages.
Moreover, the 4 year expenses of our businesses in Paris and Johannesburg were very high, as the cost of living in The Transvaal was very expensive. All this caused us a lot of harm. Besides, my brother, who had just got married, asked for the liquidation of the business, as his young wife wanted to become a farmer and live as a settler on a farmland. There was no other choice than sell off the business, which took 2 or 3 extra years, and of course was a financial disaster.In the end, we both found ourselves with only a small capital.
My brother started breeding ostriches and I came back to Europe to try to set up a new business. I settled in Brussels to sell Stella diffusers, for which I had obtained a patent. The business becoming flourishing and being able to supply all the post offices in Belgium, I had bought stocks not only
of glass and copper but also all the other necessary ingredients, when the 1914-1918 war broke out, and I had to give up all this stock to rejoin my regiment in Falaise. When I came back to Brussels after the war I had nothing left. All the goods had been stolen, even the copper handles on the pianos.
I sued the Belgian government in court for all the damage I had undergone, but they accused the Germans of stealing those goods and the Germans transferred the responsibility on the Belgians. After a 3 year legal action, I gave up any hope of recovering anything.
I stayed in Paris and took up several jobs in import export businesses, so I could restore my finances, which had fallen at their lowest, thanks to some speculations on lands.
But my disorders of vision did not allow me to work anymore and the third war (1939) was fatal to me again, mostly because of the money devaluation.
The present day policy of France, the misery in the world make me feel sceptical as regards the future.
I feel hatred for war in general and a lot of bitterness for its final results... ...
But I am now 74, and I have to put up with it, I only wish all possible happiness to those I love, but for me who lived the happy time before those wars, I can't help feeling very anxious for the future of my children and grand-children.
These few notes have no interest except for them, on the grounds of the spirit of tradition and the family feeling which generally sustain the Piderit family
and they have no other aim than give them some information.
I greatly regret the loss of many documents, among which some had historical value such as the descriptions of Napoleo I's troops passing through Lemgo in the principality of Lippe, by its Burgmeister,who was one of our ancestors. Those documents, as well as bibles and copies of sermons belonging to Protestant reverends who were numerous in our family too, have been totally destroyed by floods in the cellars where they had been put away to protect them from fires and bombs.
I remember that in a church in Lemgo, there was, in my father's times, very old stained glass windows, and one of them bore the arms of Piderit.
If information about our ancestors would interest our descendants one day, it would be necessary to apply to the archives of the towns of Lemgo and Detmold in the principality of Lippe, which always remained independent from the rest of Germany, under the government of her Prince, whose one of the descendant married the Queen of Netherlands, and whose archives often mention our name. A lot of the Piderits left Germany to settle in South and North America, South Africa and La Havana (Cuba).
In Lüneburg, at 24 Lindenstrasse, we still have 3 cousins who are single women and in Bremen, a cousin, Otto, who is childless and the direct line in Germany will die out, and will only be represented by my 2 sons and the 3 children of my brother Arthur in South Africa in Kruis River, Uitenhague and Cape Town.
As a conclusion, I apologise for the disconnected aspect of those few notes and I greatly regret I can't complete those notes with more details, as the documents which were in the cellars where I kept them, were flooded away during the wars. I particularly regret I have never been able to find the family tree, in spite of my many searches. I am making a request in Germany to obtain them, if it is possible.
My dearest wish is that my children maintain the traditions of our forefathers who, for so many years have always been honourable bourgeois, with liberal ideas, of Protestant religion, which I personally consider as the most beautiful religion with its Christian simplicity.
God bless my children and grand children.