Honore de Balzac, His Life and Writings - Mary F. Sandars
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In April, 1845, he writes: "Shall I manage to write two numbers of the
'Paysans' in twelve days? That is the problem, for I have not a single
line written. Dresden and you, between you, turn my head; I do not
know what will become of me. There is nothing more fatal than the
state of indecision in which you have kept me for three months. If I
had started on January 1st, and had returned on February 28th, I
should have been more advanced in my work, and I should have had two
good months, like the ones at St. Petersburg. Dear sovereign star, how
do you expect me to conceive an idea or write a single phrase, with my
heart and head agitated as they have been since last November? It has
been enough to make a man mad! In vain I have stuffed myself with
coffee: I have only succeeded in increasing the nervous trembling of
my eyes, and I have written nothing; this is my situation to-day,
April 10th; and I have _La Presse_ behind me, sending to me every day,
and the 'Paysans,' which is my first long work. I am between two
despairs, that of not seeing you, of not having seen you, and the
literary and financial trouble, the trouble of self-respect. Oh,
Charles II. was quite right to say: 'But she?' in all the affairs
submitted to him by his ministers.
"I can only write you this word, and it is full of sadness, for I must
work and try to forget you for several days, to belong in the future
more thoroughly and surely to you. It is noon; I start again at 'Les
Paysans' for the tenth time, and all the muscles in my face work like
those of an animal; Nature has had enough of work--she kicks over the
traces. Ah! why have I debts? Why must I work whether I wish to or
not? I am so unhappy, so tormented, so despondent, that I refuse to be
hopeless; you must surely see that I am more than ever yours, and that
I pass my life uselessly away from you, for the glory gained by
inspired work is not worth a few hours passed with you! In the end I
trust only in God and in you alone: in you who do not write me a word
more for that; you who might at least console me with three letters a
week, and who hardly write me two, and those so short!"[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 142.
However, on April 18th he received a letter from Madame Hanska
containing the words, "I wish to see you," and rushed off at once to
Dresden oblivious of everything but his one desire. _La Presse_
apparently submitted to this interruption philosophically. Its readers
had not found the opening of "Les Paysans" amusing, while _Le Moniteur
de l'Armee_ had strongly and rather absurdly objected to it, as likely
to lower military prestige. _La Presse_ had therefore decided in any
case to put off the appearance of "Les Paysans" till February, and to
begin the year 1845 with "La Reine Margot," by Alexandre Dumas.
Meanwhile Balzac was having a delightful time. Having joined Madame
Hanska at Dresden, he travelled with her and the Comtesse Anna and
Comte Georges Mniszech, who had lately become engaged, to Cannstadt,
Carlsruhe, and Strasburg; and to his intense delight, in July, the
Countess and her daughter came to him at Passy, and took up their
abode in a little house near the Rue Basse, with a carefully chosen
housemaid, cook, and man. The Czar had prohibited the journey to
France, so they travelled incognito as Balzac's sister and niece, the
Countess Anna taking the name of Eugenie, perhaps in remembrance of
Balzac's heroine Eugenie Grandet.[*] In the morning they went by cab
or on foot into Paris, and in the evening a carriage was at their
disposal, and they visited the theatre and the opera. We can easily
realise the excitement and joy Balzac felt in showing them all his
treasures--the bust by David D'Angers, the precious Medici furniture
of ebony encrusted with mother-of-pearl, the Cellini statuettes, and
the pictures by Giorgione, Palma, Watteau, and Greuze.
[*] "La Genese d'un Roman de Balzac," by the Vicomte de Spoelberch de
Lovenjoul.
July passed quickly in this mode of life, Balzac acting as cicerone to
the two ladies, and their identity was fortunately not discovered. In
August he conducted them as far as Brussels on their way back to
Dresden, and together they visited Fontainebleau, Orleans, Bourges,
his much-loved Tours, Blois, Rotterdam, La Hague, and Antwerp. At
Brussels they were met by M. Georges Mniszech, who took charge of the
two Countesses in Balzac's place. The latter felt obliged to write
afterwards to the Count to apologise for his cold good-bye, and to
explain that he had been forced to assume indifference, because he
feared a complete breakdown unless he sternly repressed all appearance
of feeling.
However, he was not away for long from Madame Hanska, as he spent from
September 20th till October 4th with her at Baden-Baden, where she had
been ordered for a course of the waters. The time there was the
happiest in his life, as it seemed to him that he could now plainly
see a picture of the future, which he prayed for and dreamed of in the
midst of his crushing work.
On October 16th, 1845, he left Paris again, met Madame Hanska, her
daughter, and prospective son-in-law at Chalons, and started with them
on their Italian tour. It took a day to travel by boat from Chalons to
Lyons, and another day to go by boat from Lyons to Avignon; but the
time flew from Madame Hanska and Balzac, who were engrossed all the
way in delightful talk. They arrived at Marseilles on October 29th,
and stayed for two nights at the Hotel d'Orient, where Balzac's friend
Mery had secured rooms for them. They then went by sea to Naples, and
there Balzac worked so hard at sight-seeing, saw so much, and talked
so volubly, that he was quite exhausted. He remained a few days only
at Naples, and had a very tiring journey back, as the sea was
extremely rough; and when he reached Marseilles Mery insisted on
taking him into society, so that he had no opportunity of resting even
there. It was altogether a very expensive journey. He could not drink
the water on board the boat coming home, and therefore was obliged to
quench his thirst with champagne; and as the captain and the steward
showed him extraordinary politeness, _they_ had also to be given
champagne, and invited to a lunch party at the Hotel d'Orient when the
ship arrived at Marseilles. Balzac was evidently rather ashamed of
this escapade, and begged Madame Hanska not to let Georges know
anything of his extravagance, as he would be certain to make fun of
it.
The bric-a-brac shops at Marseilles were another terrible cause of
temptation, and one to which Balzac apparently succumbed without a
struggle, consoling himself with the reflection that his purchases
were "de vraies occasions a saisir."
When he arrived at Passy on November 17th, and retired to bed with an
attack of fever as the result of all his fatigues, he might be
expected to feel slightly depressed at the thought of the time he had
wasted during the last few months, and of his small advance in the
work of paying off his debts. As far as we can judge, however, these
were not his reflections. He was dreaming of the past year, the
happiest year of his life, because so much of it had been spent with
Madame Hanska; and when his mind turned to more practical subjects, he
thought of various projects for buying the house which was to be their
future home, and of the way it should be decorated. His mind dwelt
constantly on these preparations for his married life; and he
continued to correspond with Mery, and to entrust him with delicate
commissions which required much bargaining. At this Mery was not,
according to his own account, very successful, as he remarks in an
amusing letter to Balzac: "I call to witness all the marble false gods
which decorate Lazardo's dark museum. I have neglected nothing to
succeed with your message. I have paid indolent visits, I have taken
the airs of a bored 'agathophile,' I have turned my back on the
objects of your desire. All my efforts have been in vain. They
obstinately continue to ask fabulous prices."[*]
[*] Letters from the collection of the Vicomte de Spoelberch de
Lovenjoul, published in the _Revue Bleue_ of December 5th, 1903.
In February, 1845,[*] Balzac had written cheerfully about the 30,000
francs for "Les Paysans" which he would obtain from the publisher, and
the 10,000 from the journal; of the 15,000 francs which would come to
him from "La Comedie Humaine," and the 30,000 from the sale of Les
Jardies, besides 10,000 francs from his other works and 20,000 from
the railway du Nord; and had calculated that his most pressing
liabilities would soon be discharged. His figures and computations on
the subject of money can never be relied on, and the railway du Nord
was a most unfortunate speculation, and proved a constant drain on his
resources. Nevertheless, there is no doubt that he was beginning to
diminish perceptibly the burden of debt which pressed upon him, and
that if Madame Hanska had not existed, and if on the other hand he had
not himself embarked on some mad scheme or senseless piece of
extravagance, he might in a few years have become a free man. These
long months of expensive inaction rendered this happy solution to the
troubles of his life impossible.
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 123.
Meanwhile fresh misfortunes were gathering. On November 27th, 1845,
Emile de Girardin, who since Dujarier's death had resumed business
relations with Balzac, addressed to him a most discourteous letter. He
apparently disbelieved in the terms of the agreement by which the
great writer was to be paid sixty centimes a line for "Les Paysans,"
and demanded a certified copy of it;[*] and he also announced that for
"Les Petites Miseres de la Vie Conjugale," which was about to appear
in the _Revue_, he could not pay more than forty centimes, which was,
he said, his maximum price to contributors. Later on, in March, 1846,
Girardin despatched another message to complain of the delay in
continuing "Les Paysans," and in this he remarked with bitter emphasis
that as _La Presse_ paid so highly for what was published in her
pages, she had at least the right of objecting to being treated
lightly. Balzac replied on March 16th, 1846, that _he_ was the one who
ought to bear malice, as Dujarier had upset his arrangements by
interrupting the publication of "Les Paysans" to substitute "La Reine
Margot," by Dumas, and that now his brain required rest, and that he
was starting that very day for a month's holiday in Rome.
[*] "La Genese d'un Roman de Balzac," by the Vicomte de Spoelberch de
Lovenjoul (from which the whole account of the dispute between
Balzac and Emile de Girardin is taken).
If Balzac had remained in France it is doubtful whether he would have
written much, as he had been in a miserably unsettled state all the
winter of 1845 to 1846. His health was bad: he mentions continual
colds and neuralgia, and on one occasion remarks that owing to
complete exhaustion he has slept all through the day. Besides this,
his suspense about Madame Hanska's ultimate decision made him
absolutely wretched. He writes to her on December 17th, 1845: "Nothing
amuses me, nothing distracts me, nothing animates me; it is the death
of the soul, the death of the will, the weakening of the whole being;
I feel that I can only take up my work again when I see my life
determined, fixed, arranged."[*] Later on in the same letter he says:
"I am crushed; I have waited too long, I have hoped too much; I have
been too happy this year, and I do not want anything else. After so
many years of misfortune and of work, to have been free as a bird,
superhumanly happy, and to return to one's cell! . . . is it possible?
. . . I dream: I dream by day and by night, and the thought of the
heart driven back on itself prevents all action of the thought of the
brain; it is terrible!"
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 200.
On one occasion Madame Hanska wrote apparently reproaching him with
talking indiscreetly about her; and without finishing the letter, the
end of which was affectionate, and would have calmed his mind, he at
once jumped out of the cab in which he was driving, and walked for
hours about Paris. He was wearing thin shoes, and there were two
inches of snow on the ground; but his agitation was so great at her
unjust accusations, and his indignation so fierce at the wickedness of
the people who had libelled him, that he hardly knew where he was
going, and returned at last, still so excited by the anguish of his
mind, that he was not conscious of bodily fatigue. Such crises, and
the consequent exhaustion afterwards, were not conducive to work;
particularly in a man whose heart was already affected, and who had
overstrained his powers for years.
Possibly in the hope of obtaining distraction and relief from the
anxious misery of thought, he went into society more than usual this
year; and in spite of the strained relations between him and Emile de
Girardin, he often dined at the editor's house, and was on most
friendly terms with Madame de Girardin. On January 1st, 1846, he wrote
to Madame Hanska, "I dined, as I told you in my last letter, with
Nestor Roqueplan, the director of the Theatre des Varietes, the last
Wednesday of December, and the last day of the month with the
illustrious Delphine. We laughed as much as I can laugh without you,
and far from you. Delphine is really the queen of conversation; that
evening she was especially sublime, brilliant, charming. Gautier was
there as well; I left after having a long talk with him. He said that
there was no hurry for 'Richard, Coeur d'Eponge'; the theatre is well
provided at present. Perhaps Gautier and I will write the piece
together later on."[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 212.
Balzac's mind was still running on the theatre. Owing to failing
health and to his unfortunate love affair, he now found it more
difficult to concentrate his mind than formerly, and the incessant
work of earlier years was no longer possible; so that the easy road to
fortune offered by a successful play became doubly attractive.
"Richard Coeur d'Eponge," however, never appeared; and except several
fragments, which are in the hands of the Vicomte de Spoelberch de
Lovenjoul, it is doubtful whether it was written, though Balzac often
discussed the plot with Gautier.
What, after all, were novels, essays, or plays, of what interest were
scenes, plots, or characters, what was fame, what was art itself,
compared with Madame Hanska? How was it possible for a man to work,
with the gloriously disquieting prospect before him that in so many
months, weeks, days, he should meet his divinity? The phantoms of his
imagination faded to insignificance, and then to utter nullity, beside
the woman of flesh and blood, the one real object in a world of
shadows. On March 17th, 1846, he started on his journey to Rome, and
everything became a blank, except the intoxicating thought that each
hour diminished the distance between him and the woman he loved. She
evidently received him with enthusiasm, and showed so much affection,
that though nothing definite was settled, he felt that her ultimate
decision to marry him was certain; and was only deferred to a more
convenient season, when her daughter Anna should have become La
Comtesse Mniszech. Therefore the whole world brightened for him, and
he became again full of life and vigour. He stayed for a month in the
Eternal City, was presented to the Pope, admired St. Peter's
extremely, and said that his time there would for ever remain one of
the greatest and most beautiful recollections of his life. As the
route by sea was crowded by travellers who had spent Holy Week in
Rome, and all wanted to return at the same time, he travelled back by
Switzerland; and explored fresh country and hunted for curiosities on
the way. Several pictures were to follow him from Italy: a Sebastian
del Piombo, a Bronzino, and a Mirevelt, which he describes as of
extreme beauty; and with his usual happy faith in his own good luck,
he hoped to pick up some other bargains such as "Hobbemas and Holbeins
for a few crowns," in the towns through which he would pass on his
journey. A definite engagement did not take place till some months
later; but some tacit understanding must now have been allowed by
Madame Hanska, as there began to appear from this time in Balzac's
letters exact descriptions of the Sevres china, the inlaid furniture,
and the bric-a-brac, which he was buying evidently with her money as
well as his own, to adorn their future home together. As usual, on his
return he found his affairs in utter confusion, was pursued by
creditors, and was absolutely without money. As a last misfortune, his
housekeeper, Madame de Brugnolle, in whose name the habitation at
Passy had been rented, and who generally managed his business affairs,
was busy preparing for her approaching marriage, and had naturally no
time to spare for her supposed lodger's difficulties. Altogether
Balzac felt that the world was a harassing place.
However, his health was admirable, "et le talent! . . . oh! je l'ai
retrouve dans sa fleur!"[*] He was full of hope and confidence; and
although the shares of the railway du Nord continued to fall in value,
he considered that with steady work at his novels, and with the help
of a successful comedy, he would soon have paid off his debts, and
would have a little house of his own, with room for his beautiful
things; which, owing to want of space, and also to fear of his
creditors, were never unpacked. It was necessary to prove that he was
as young, as fresh, and as fertile as ever, and with this object in
view, in June, 1846, he began the two books which were to form the
series entitled "L'Histoire des Parents Pauvres." The first, "La
Cousine Bette," appeared in the _Constitutionnel_ from October to
December, 1846, and is intended to represent "a poor relation
oppressed by humiliations and injuries, living in the midst of three
or four families of her relations, and meditating vengeance for the
bruising of her amour-propre, and for her wounded vanity!"[*] The
second received several names in turn. It was first called "Le Vieux
Musicien," next "Le Bonhomme Pons," and then "Le Parasite," a title on
which Balzac said he had decided definitely. However, Madame Hanska
objected, as she declared that "Le Parasite" was only suitable for an
eighteenth-century comedy, and the book appeared in April, 1847, as
"Le Cousin Pons." Though intensely tragic, it is not as horrible or
revolting as its pendant, the gloomy "Cousine Bette"; and Balzac has
portrayed admirably the simple old man with his fondness for good
dinners; "the poor relation oppressed by humiliations and injuries,
pardoning all, and only revenging himself by doing kindnesses." Side
by side with him is the touching figure of his faithful friend
Schmucke, the childlike German musician, who dies of grief at the
death of Pons. In writing these two remarkable books, his last
important works, Balzac proved conclusively that his hand had not lost
its cunning, and that the slow rate of literary production during the
last few years of his life was caused by his unhappy circumstances,
and not by any failure in his genius.
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 243.
After all, the year 1846 ended for him with agitation which
increased his heart disease. His beloved trio, whom he had christened
the "troupe Bilboquet," after the vaudeville "Les Saltimbanques," had
now moved to Wiesbaden; and thither their faithful "Bilboquet," the
"vetturino per amore," as Madame de Girardin laughingly called him,
rushed to meet them. He found "notre grande et chere Atala" rather
crippled with rheumatism, and not able to take the exercise which
was necessary for her, but in his eyes as beautiful as ever. The
"gentille Zephirine," otherwise the Countess Anna, was gay,
charming, and beautifully dressed; and "Gringalet," the Count,
was completely occupied--when not making love--with his collection
of insects, on which he spent large sums. About this collection
Balzac made many rather heavy jokes, calling the Count a
"Gringalet sphynx-lepidoptere-coleoptere-ante-diluvien,"[*] but in
an anxious desire to ingratiate himself with Madame Hanska's family,
he often despatched magnificent specimens of the insect species from
Paris to add to it.
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 287.
Balzac travelled about a little with the Hanski family, and remained
with them till September 15th, when he was obliged to go back to
Paris. Either at this time, or when he returned for the wedding of the
Comtesse Anna and the Comte Georges Mniszech, which took place at
Wiesbaden on October 13th, 1846, a secret engagement was contracted
between him and Madame Hanska.
He was now terribly anxious that there should be no further delay
about his marriage, and on his way back from Germany on one of these
two occasions, he applied to M. Germeau, then prefect of Metz,[*] who
had been at school with him at Vendome, to know whether the necessary
formalities could be abridged, so that the wedding might take place at
once. This was impossible; and though the great obstacle to their
union was now removed, Madame Hanska refused to be parted from her
beloved daughter, and insisted on accompanying the newly married
couple on their honeymoon. Her determination caused Balzac terrible
agony of mind, as she was unwell, and was suffering a great deal at
the time, and he therefore wished her to remain quietly somewhere in
France; moreover, despair seized him at her hesitation to become his
wife, when the course at last seemed clear. His trouble at this time
appears to have had a serious effect on his health, and some words
spoken half in malice, half in warning by Madame de Girardin, must
have sounded like a knell in his ears. He tells them apparently in
jest to Madame Hanska to give her an example of the nonsense people
talk in Paris. In his accuracy of repetition, however, we can trace a
passionately anxious desire to force Madame Hanska herself to deny the
charges brought against her; and perhaps lurking behind this, a wish
unacknowledged even to himself, to shame her if--even after all that
had passed--she were really not in earnest.
[*] See "Une Page Perdue de Honore de Balzac," p. 276, by the Vicomte
de Spoelberch de Lovenjoul.
He says: "Madame de Girardin told me that she heard from a person who
knew you intimately, that you were extremely flattered by my homage;
that from vanity and pride you made me come wherever you went; that
you were very happy to have a man of genius as courier, but that your
social position was too high to allow me to aspire to anything else.
And then she began to laugh with an ironical laugh, and told me that I
was wasting my time running after great ladies, only to fail with
them. Hein! Isn't that like Paris!"[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 295.
The reader of Balzac's life is forced to the sad conclusion that
Parisian gossip had on this occasion sketched the situation tolerably
correctly; though the truth of the picture was no doubt denied with
much indignation by Madame Hanska.
CHAPTER XIV
1846 - 1848
Balzac buys a house in the Rue Fortunee--Madame Hanska's visit to
Paris--Balzac burns her letters--Final breach with Emile de
Girardin--Balzac's projects for writing for the theatre--He goes
to Wierzchownia--Plan for transporting oaks from Russia to France
--Balzac returns to Paris at the eve of the Revolution of 1848
--Views on politics--Stands for last time as deputy.
Much of Balzac's time, whenever he was in Paris in 1845 and 1846, was
taken up with house-hunting; and some of his still unpublished letters
to Madame Hanska contain long accounts of the advantages of the
different abodes he had visited. He was now most anxious to be
permanently settled, as there was no room for his art treasures in the
Rue Basse; but as Madame Hanska's tastes had to be consulted as well
as his own, it was necessary to be very careful in his choice.
However, in October, 1846, he at last found something which he thought
would be suitable. This was the villa which had formerly belonged to
the financier Beaujon, in the Rue Fortunee, now the Rue Balzac. The
house was not large, it was what might now be described as a "bijou
residence," but though out of repair, it had been decorated with the
utmost magnificence by Beaujon, and Balzac's discriminating eye
quickly discerned its aesthetic possibilities.
In front of the house was a long narrow courtyard, the pavement of
which was interrupted here and there by flower-beds. This courtyard
was bordered by a wall, and above the wall nothing could be seen from
the road but a cupola, which formed the domed ceiling of the
financier's boudoir. Some of the inside adornments possessed a
delightful fitness for the uses to which they were destined. For
instance, what could have been a more graceful compliment to the
Mniszechs than to lodge them during their visits to Paris, which would
of course be frequent, in a set of rooms painted with brilliant exotic
butterflies, poised lightly on lovely flowers? Apparently foreseeing,
as Balzac remarks, that a "Lepidopterian Georges" would at some time
inhabit the mansion, Beaujon had actually provided a beautiful bedroom
and a little drawing-room decorated in this way.[*] It seemed quite
providential!