Honore de Balzac, His Life and Writings - Mary F. Sandars
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Balzac had now left his garret, and was established in the
drawing-room on the second floor of 13, Rue des Batailles, which is
exactly described in "La Fille aux Yeux d'Or." The room was very
luxurious, and the details had been thought out with much care.[*] One
end of it had square corners, the other end was rounded, and the
corners cut off to form the semicircle were connected by a narrow dark
passage, and contained--one a camp bedstead, and the other a
writing-table. A secret door led to this hiding-place, and here Balzac
took refuge when pursued by emissaries from the Garde Nationale,
creditors, or enraged editors. The scheme of colour in the room was
white and flame-colour shading to the deepest pink, relieved by
arabesques of black. A huge divan, fifty feet long and as broad as a
mattress, ran round the horseshoe. This, like the rest of the
furniture, was covered in white cashmere decked with flame-coloured
and black bows, and the back of it was higher than the numerous
cushions by which it was adorned. Above it the walls were hung with
pink Indian muslin over red material, the flame-colour and black
arabesques being repeated. The curtains were pink, the mantelpiece
clock and candlesticks white marble and gold, the carpet and _portieres_
of rich Oriental design, and the chandelier and candelabra to light the
divan of silver gilt. About the room were elegant baskets containing
white and red flowers, and in the place of honour on the table in the
middle was M. de Hanski's magnificent gold and malachite inkstand.
Balzac showed the glories of this splendid apartment with infantile
pride and delight to visitors; and here, reckless of his pecuniary
embarrassments, he gave a grand dinner to Theophile Gautier, the
Marquis de Belloy, and Boulanger, and entertained them in the evening
with good stories "a la Rabelais."
[*] See "Honore de Balzac" in "Portraits Contemporains," by Theophile
Gautier.
About this time Balzac started the association he called the "Cheval
Rouge," which was intended to be a mutual help society among a number
of friends, who were to push and praise each other's compositions, and
to rise as one man against any one who dared to attack a member of the
alliance. The idea was a good one; but there was a comic side to it as
conducted by Balzac, and the "Cheval Rouge," after five or six
meetings, ceased to exist without having seriously justified its
existence. Theophile Gautier, Jules Sandeau, and Leon Gozlan were
among the members; and so dazzling were the pictures drawn by Balzac
of the powers and scope of the society, that each one saw himself in
imagination with a seat in the French Academy, and in succession peer
of France, minister, and millionaire. It was sad that with these lofty
aims the association should have been dissolved because most of its
members were not able to pay their fifteen francs subscription. The
first meeting was held at the Cheval Rouge, a very modest restaurant
on the "Quai de l'Entrepot," from which the society took its name. The
members were summoned by a card with a little red horse on it, and
under this the words "Stable such a day, such a place." Everything was
carried on with the greatest secrecy and mystery, and the
arrangements, which were conducted by Balzac with much seriousness,
afforded him intense pleasure. The "Cheval Rouge" might have been a
dangerous political society from the precautions he took. In order to
avoid suspicion one member was always to greet another member coldly
in society; and Balzac would pretend to meet Gautier with much
ceremony for the first time in a drawing-room, and then by delighted
winks and grimaces would point out to him how well he was acting.
In March, 1837, Balzac paid a second visit to Italy; travelling
through a part of Switzerland, stopping at Milan, Venice, Genoa, and
Florence, and returning to Paris on May 3rd. His health was, he said,
detestable at this time, and he required rest and change. He went
alone, as Gautier, who had intended to be his companion, was kept in
Paris by the necessity of writing criticisms on the pictures in the
Salon. One object of Balzac's journey was to visit Florence to see
Bartolini's bust of Madame Hanska, of which he evidently approved, as
he asked M. de Hanski's permission to have a small copy made of it
which he could always keep on his writing-table; but this was never
sent to him. He was delighted with Venice, which he now saw for the
first time; and in Florence was specially charmed with the pictures at
the Pitti, though he found travelling by himself rather dull, and
decided that his next journey should be undertaken at a time when
Gautier could accompany him. At Genoa he met a wily merchant, to whom
he unfortunately confided the last brilliant scheme for making his
fortune which was floating through his active brain.
He had read in Tacitus that the Romans found silver in Sardinia; and
it occurred to him, that, as the ancients were not learned in
extracting metals, silver might still be found among the lead which
was turned out of the mines as refuse. The Genoese merchant appeared
much interested in Balzac's conversation, and remarked that, owing to
the carelessness of the Sardinians, whole mountains of dross,
containing lead, and most probably silver, were left in the vicinity
of the mines. He was most obliging: he promised to send Balzac a
specimen of the dross that it might be submitted to Parisian experts,
and if the result were satisfactory, Balzac and he were to ask for a
permit from the Government at Turin, and would work the mines
together. When this had been arranged Balzac departed in high spirits,
determined to keep his secret carefully, and feeling that at last he
was on the high road to fortune. On the way back he was detained in
quarantine for some time, and partly from economy, partly because he
wanted to see Neufchatel, where he had first met Madame Hanska, he
travelled back by Milan and the Splugen, and reached Paris in perfect
health.
Here fresh misfortunes awaited him, as Werdet was bankrupt, and, as a
consequence, his creditors pursued Balzac. Never in future would he be
answerable or sign his name for any one, he cried in despair. He had
forestalled the money allowed him by his treaty with Bohain, was
working day and night, and in a few days would retire into an unknown
garret, and live as he had done in the Rue Lesdiguieres. Nevertheless,
in his anxiety to see Madame Hanska, he had begun to think out
economical ways of getting to Ukraine. He was not very well at this
time, and in August he went to Sache, to see whether his native air
would revive him.
His next action would be astonishing to any one unacquainted with his
extraordinary recklessness. In October 1837 he gave up the rooms at
the Rue Cassini, which he had kept during the time of his residence at
Passy; and in order to escape what he termed "an atrocious law" on the
subject of his abhorrence the Garde Nationale, he bought a piece of
land in the Ville d'Avray, at Sevres, on which he began to build a
house, planned by himself. This soon acquired celebrity as "Les
Jardies," and gave much amusement to the Parisians, who were never
tired of inventing stories about Balzac's villa. In March, 1838,
before he settled in his new abode, he started on a journey to
Sardinia to investigate matters himself about the mines. It was a year
since the Genoese merchant had promised to send him a specimen of the
dross, and as nothing had yet arrived, he was beginning to feel
anxious.
The object of his journey was kept absolutely secret; owing to the
dangers of the post even Madame Hanska being told only that "it is
neither a marriage, nor anything adventurous, foolish, frivolous, or
imprudent. It is a serious and scientific affair, about which it is
impossible for me to tell you a word, because I am bound to the most
absolute secrecy."[*] He had to borrow from his mother and from a
cousin, and to pawn his jewellery to obtain money for his expedition.
On the way he stayed with the Carrauds at Frapesle, where he was ill
for a few days; and he went from there to pay his "comrade" George
Sand a three days' visit at Nohant. He found her in man's attire,
smoking a "houka," very sad, and working enormously; and he and she
had long talks, lasting from five in the evening till five in the
morning, and ranging over manners, morals, love affairs, and
literature. She approved of "La Premiere Demoiselle," a play planned
in February, 1837, which Madame Hanska had discouraged because she did
not like the plot; and Balzac determined to work at it seriously now
that "Cesar Birotteau" was finished. This brilliant picture of the
Parisian _bourgeoisie_ had been published in December, 1837, under the
title of "Histoire de la Grandeur et de la decadence de Cesar
Birotteau." Since then, Balzac had produced nothing new in book form,
though he was writing "La Maison de Nucingen" for _La Presse_, and
working at "Massimilla Doni," and at the second part of "Illusions
Perdues." He was also preparing to bring out a "Balzac Illustre,"
which was to be a complete edition of his works with pictures; but of
this only one volume, "La Peau de Chagrin," was ever published.
[*] "Lettres a l'Etrangere."
From Nohant he went to Marseilles, and from there he sent letters both
to his mother and to Madame Carraud, written in a very different frame
of mind from his usual one when he embarked on a scheme for making his
fortune. "Now that I am almost at my destination, I begin to have a
thousand doubts; anyhow, one cannot risk less to gain more. I do not
fear the journey, but what a return if I fail!"[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. i. p. 394.
He crossed from Marseilles to Ajaccio, and suffered much on the
voyage, though he travelled on the mail steamer from Toulon, and spent
a great deal of money by doing this. However, he was really trying to
be economical, as on his way to Marseilles he had lived on ten sous'
worth of milk a day, and when he reached there he put up at an hotel
where his room cost fifteen sous and his dinner thirty.
The scenery of Corsica was, he said, magnificent; but he did not much
appreciate Ajaccio, where he had to wait some time for a boat to take
him to Sardinia, and said the civilisation was as primitive as that of
Greenland. His only consolation about the delay was in the idea that
he would have time to go on with "La Premiere Demoiselle," for which
George Sand predicted a great success, while his sister told him it
was superb. Therefore, as he had written the "Physiologie du Mariage"
and "La Peau de Chagrin" against the advice of Madame de Berny, he
determined to continue his play in spite of Madame Hanska's
disapproval. His five days' journey to Sardinia was most
uncomfortable, as he travelled in a rowing-boat belonging to French
coral fishers. The food caught consisted of execrable soup, made from
the fish caught by the fishermen during the voyage; and Balzac had to
sleep on the bridge, where he was devoured by insects. To add to his
misfortunes, the boat was kept for five days in quarantine in view of
the port, and the inhabitants refused to give the occupants any food,
or to allow them in a bad storm to attach their cables to the
port-rings. This they managed at last to do, in spite of the objections
of the governor, who, determined to assert his authority, decreed that
the cable should be taken off as soon as the sea became calm: a
regulation which, as Balzac said, was absurd, because either the
people would by that time have caught the cholera, or they would not
catch it at all.
When Balzac at last landed, he felt as though he were in Central
Africa or Polynesia, as the inhabitants wore no clothes, and were
bronzed like Ethiopians. He was much horrified at their misery and
savage condition. Their dwellings he describes as dens without
chimneys, and their food in many parts consisted of a horrible bread
made of acorns ground, and mixed with clay.
No doubt he was not disposed to take a particularly favourable view of
Sardinia, as it was to him the scene of a bitter disappointment. He
had been right in his calculations about the value of the refuse from
the mines: the dross contained 10 per cent of lead, and the lead 10
per cent of silver. But a Marseilles company as well as his Genoese
friend had been beforehand with him, had obtained from the Government
at Turin the right to work the mines, and were already in possession.
Balzac's monetary sacrifices, and the hardships he had suffered on his
journey, were in vain; he must return to sleepless nights of work, and
must redouble his efforts in the endeavour to pay back the money he
had borrowed for his expedition. He showed his usual pluck at this
juncture; there were no complaints in his letters, and with singular
forbearance he does not even abuse the faithless Genoese merchant. His
expedition was useful to others, if not to himself; as he travelled on
to Italy, and made a long stay at Milan in order to work for the
interests of the Viscontis, whose property, without his efforts, would
have been sequestrated owing to political complications. It is
significant that Madame Hanska, who was always suspicious about Madame
Visconti, was not informed of this reason for his long sojourn at
Milan, which we hear of from a letter to his sister. Balzac was
terribly low-spirited at this time; his whole life seemed to have been
a failure, and he was approaching the age of forty, the date at which
he had always determined to give up his aspirations, to fight no more,
and to join the great company of the resigned. He was tired out, and
very homesick. He admired the Cathedral, the churches, the pictures;
but he was weary of Italy, and longed for France with its grey skies
and cold winds. Behind this longing, and possibly the origin of it,
was a passionate desire in his disappointment and disgust of life to
be again near his "polar star."
It was a comfort when, the affairs of the Viscontis being at last
satisfactorily arranged, he was able on June 6th to start on his
journey back to France. He travelled by the Mont Cenis, and was nearly
blinded by clouds of fine dust, so that he was unable to write for
some days.
When he reached Paris he only remained for a short time in the Rue des
Batailles, as in July, 1838, in defiance of his doctor's warnings
about damp walls, he took up his residence at Les Jardies, having at
the same time a _pied-a-terre_ in Paris at the house of Buisson, his
tailor, 108, Rue Richelieu. Les Jardies was a quaint abode. Built on a
slippery hill, it overlooked the Ville d'Avray with smoky Paris below,
and in the distance there was a view of the plain of Mont-rouge and
the road to Orleans, which led also to Balzac's beloved Tours. The
principal staircase was outside, because Balzac, in designing the
house, found that a staircase seriously interfered with the symmetry
of the rooms. Therefore he placed it in an inconspicuous position in a
special construction at the back, and owing to the extremely steep
slope the visitor entered by the top floor, and made his way down
instead of up. There were three stories, the lowest containing the
drawing-room and dining-room, the second a bedroom and dressing-room,
and the third Balzac's study. All round the house, which was painted
to represent bricks, was a verandah supported by black columns, and
the cage in the rear which held the staircase was painted red. About
sixty feet behind this curious habitation was the real living-place of
Les Jardies, where Balzac kept his servants. Part of this he let at a
later date to the Viscontis, and they had charge of his rich library,
and of the beautiful furniture brought from the Rue des Batailles,
which might, if kept by its owner, have been seized by his creditors.
The interior of this charming abode was intended to be adorned with
the utmost magnificence, but it was never finished; there were no
curtains, and no furniture to speak of. Years after, descriptions such
as the following were still scrawled in charcoal on the bare stucco:
"Here is a veneering of Parian marble"; "Here is a mantelpiece in
cipolin marble"; "Here is a ceiling painted by Eugene Delacroix."
Balzac laughed himself at these imaginary decorations, and was much
delighted when Leon Gozlan wrote in large letters in his study, which
was as bare as the other rooms, "Here is a priceless picture by
Raphael." However, there was one thing at Les Jardies of which he was
really proud; and that was his system of bell-ringing, which he
considered a _chef-d'oeuvre_. Instead of having hanging wires with
"big, stupid, indiscreet bells" at the end of them, _his_ bells were
hidden ingeniously in an angle of the wall; and his pride in this
brilliant invention made him forget any possible deficiencies in the
decorations and appointments of the mansion.
The great feature, however, at Les Jardies, and the torment, the
delight, and the despair of Balzac's life, was the piece of land round
the house where the garden ought to have been. He had beautiful plans
about this when first he arrived at Les Jardies. The soil was then
absolutely bare; but, as he remarked, it was possible to buy
everything in Paris, and as money was, of course, no object with him,
he intended in the autumn to have good-sized magnolias, limes,
poplars, and willows transported there, and to make a little Eden of
sweet scents, covered with plants and bushes. No doubt, in imagination
he already saw his beautiful flowers, and wandered in this delightful
and well-kept garden, which, as nothing with Balzac could possibly be
ordinary, was to be "surprising." The reality, however, was sadly
different from his expectations. In vain, by his orders asphalt paths
were made in all directions, and landscape gardeners worked for
months, trying with stones cunningly inserted to prop up the steep,
slippery slope, and to form little terraces on which something might
have a chance of growing. With the slightest shower, down tumbled
these plateaus; and the work of building had to begin again. It was
amusing, Leon Gozlan tells us, to see the amazement of the actor
Frederick Lemaitre when he came to see Balzac; and found himself
expected to walk up the side of a hill, with the ground at each step
slipping under his feet. To support himself he stuck stones behind his
heels, and Balzac meanwhile walked by his side with the calmness of a
proprietor who is thoroughly used to the vagaries of his own
territory, and scorns foreign assistance.
Occasionally, however, even Balzac came to the end of his equanimity.
The wall, which separated his property from that of the neighbour
below him, was a continual anxiety. In spite of all possible
precautions it tumbled down constantly, and scattered stones and
mortar over the ground on each side of it. After this had happened two
or three times, and Balzac, while investigating the extent of the
damage on one of these occasions, had fallen and injured his leg, so
that he was in bed for forty days, a meeting of experts was held, and
it was decided that the angle at which the wall had been built was not
sufficiently acute. The error was rectified, and there were general
rejoicings and congratulations; but the next day it rained, and in the
evening news was brought to Balzac that the whole structure had
toppled over, and was reposing in ruins in his neighbour's garden.
This was serious, as the neighbour promptly sent in an enormous bill
for damages done to his carrots and turnips; and it was probably on
this occasion that Balzac wrote in March 1839 a despairing letter to
Madame Carraud, containing the words: "To you, sister of my soul, I
can confide my greatest secrets; I am now in the midst of terrible
misery. All the walls of Les Jardies have fallen down through the
fault of the builder, who did not make any foundations."[*] No
builder, however, managed to effect the feat of making this
unfortunate wall stand upright; and in the end, to allow it to come
down in peace and comfort whenever it felt so disposed, Balzac bought
the strip of his neighbour's land which bordered it, and after that,
ceased to feel anguish at its vagaries.
[*] "Correspondance," vol. i. p. 453.
The wall was decidedly important, as Balzac's fortune was to be made
by the contents of the garden at Les Jardies, and it would not have
been satisfactory for strangers to be able to wander there at will.
Balzac's new plan for becoming rich was to cover most of his territory
with glass houses, and to plant 100,000 feet with pineapples. Owing to
the warmth of the soil, he considered that these pineapples would not
need much heat, and could be sold at five francs apiece, instead of
the louis charged for them in Paris. They would therefore be quickly
disposed of, and 500,000 francs would be made, which, deducting
100,000 francs for expenses, would mean a clear profit of 400,000
francs a year. "And this money will be made without a page of copy,"
said poor Balzac. He was, of course, absolutely confident about the
success of this new undertaking, and Theophile Gautier, who tells the
story,[*] says that a search was made for a shop in which to sell
these pineapples of the future. This shop was to be painted black with
lines of gold, and was to have on it in huge letters the announcement,
"Ananas des Jardies"; but Gautier managed to persuade Balzac in order
to avoid useless expense, not to hire it till the next year, when the
pineapples would have had time to grow. However, perhaps Balzac was
discouraged by the sight of the snow falling silently on his slope, or
possibly his desire to make a fabulous sum of money by a successful
play had for a time blotted out all other ambitions; at any rate, we
hear no more of the pineapples of Les Jardies.
[*] "Portraits Contemporains--Honore de Balzac," by Theophile Gautier.
Balzac's terribly embarrassed condition in 1837 caused him to return
with new ardour to the idea which haunted him all his life, that of an
immense theatrical success which should put an end for ever to his
pecuniary embarrassments. References to projected plays, to the
difficulty he found in writing them, and to his hope of finally
freeing himself from debt by producing a masterpiece at the theatre,
occur constantly in his letters. "Marie Touchet" and "Philippe le
Reserve"--afterwards to become "Les Ressources de Quinola"--were the
names of some of the plays he intended to write. In February, 1837, as
we have already seen, he planned out "La Premiere Demoiselle," which
he abandoned for the time, but which he worked at with much energy
during his ill-fated expedition to Sardinia, and continued at Les
Jardies during the summer and autumn of 1838. Before starting for
Sardinia he wrote to Madame Carraud: "If I fail in what I undertake, I
shall throw myself with all my might into writing for the theatre." He
kept his word, and "La Premiere Demoiselle," a gloomy bourgeois
tragedy, which soon received the name of "L'Ecole des Menages," was
the result.
With the distrust in himself, which always in matters dramatic mingled
with his optimistic self-confidence, Balzac determined to have a
collaborator, and chose a young man named Lassailly, who was
peculiarly unfitted for the difficult post. In doing this he only gave
one instance out of many of the wide gulf which separated Balzac the
writer, gifted with the psychological powers which almost amounted to
second sight, and Balzac in ordinary life, many of whose misfortunes
had their origin in an apparent want of knowledge of human nature,
which caused him to make deplorable mistakes in choosing his
associates.
The agreement between Balzac and his collaborator stipulated that the
latter should be lodged and fed at the expense of Balzac, and should,
on his side, be always at hand to help his partner with dramatic
ideas. Balzac performed _his_ part of the treaty nobly, and Lassailly
remembered long afterwards the glories of the fare at Les Jardies; but
his life became a burden to him from his incapacity to do what was
expected of him, and he was nearly killed by Balzac's nocturnal
habits. He was permitted to go to bed when he liked; but at two or
three in the morning Balzac's peremptory bell would summon him to
work, and he would rise, frightened and half stupefied with sleep, to
find his employer waiting for him, stern and pale from his vigil.
"For," Leon Gozlan says, "the Balzac fighting with the demon of his
nightly work had nothing in common with the Balzac of the street and
of the drawing-room."[*] He would be asked severely what help he could
give, and, as a result of his terrified and drowsy stammerings would
be sent to bed for another hour to see whether in that time
inspiration would visit him. Six or eight times in the course of the
night would this scene be repeated; and at last Lassailly, who was
delicate, became seriously ill and had to leave Les Jardies, ever
after looking back on the terrible Balzac and his appalling
night-watches, as a nightmare to be recalled with a shudder.