If you have read my piece on the Lavoirs, you may well agree that they look bewitching in the summer sun, gleaming white linen, reflecting the rays of a French summers sun but can you imagine what it was like in the winter. Well imagine no longer Victor Hugo’s “les mis” captures the horrors of no indoor plumbing READ ON and think how lucky we are . . . . .

“Her glance fell upon the water which stood before her; such was the fright which the Thenardier inspired in her, that she dared not flee without that bucket of water: she seized the handle with both hands; she could hardly lift the pail.

In this manner she advanced a dozen paces, but the bucket was full; it was heavy; she was forced to set it on the ground once more. She took breath for an instant, then lifted the handle of the bucket again, and resumed her march, proceeding a little further this time, but again she was obliged to pause. After some seconds of repose she set out again. She walked bent forward, with drooping head, like an old woman; the weight of the bucket strained and stiffened her thin arms. The iron handle completed the benumbing and freezing of her wet and tiny hands; she was forced to halt from time to time, and each time that she did so, the cold water which splashed from the pail fell on her bare legs.

This took place in the depths of a forest, at night, in winter, far from all human sight; she was a child of eight: no one but God saw that sad thing at the moment.”

Book III Chapter V Les Miserables by Victor Hugo