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 sketche
d 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!
[*] “Correspondance,” vol. ii. p. 289.
Balzac was very happy superintending the building operations, deciding exactly where his different treasures would look best in his new abode, and hunting for fresh acquisitions to make every detail perfect. Later on, his letters from Russia to his mother when she was taking charge of the house — then furnished and decorated — show how dearly he loved all his household goods, and how well he was acquainted with their peculiarities; how he realised the danger, unless it were held by the lower part,[*] of moving the greenish-grey china vase with cracked glaze, which was to stand on one of the consoles in black wood and Buhl marqueterie; and how he thought anxiously about the candle ornaments of gilt crystal, which were only to be arranged after the candelabra had been put up in the white drawing-room. In 1846 and 1847, his letters are instinct with the passion of the confirmed collector, who has no thought beyond his bric-a-brac. His excitement is intense because Madame Hanska has discovered that a tea service in his possession is real Watteau, and because he has had the “incredible good fortune” to find a milk jug and a sugar basin to match it exactly. When we remember that the man who thus expresses his delight was in the act of writing “Les Parents Pauvres,” and of evoking scenes of touching pathos and gloomy horror, we are once more amazed at the extraordinary versatility of Balzac’s mind and genius.
[*] “Correspondance,” vol. ii. p. 337.
The deep thinker, the pessimistic believer in the omnipotence of vice and in the helpless suffering of virtue, who drags to light what is horrible from among the dregs of the people, seems to have nothing in common with the charming, playful figure of “le vieux Bilboquet,” who gave Madame Hanska’s daughter and her son-in-law a big place in his heart, and was never jealous when, avowedly for their sakes, his wishes, feelings, and health were unconsidered; whose servants, hard-worked though they were, adored him; and who never forgot his friends, or failed to help them when adversity fell upon them.
At the beginning of 1847, peace for a time visited Balzac’s restless spirit. In February he went to Germany to fetch Madame Hanska, and leaving the Mniszechs to go back alone to Wierzchownia, she travelled with him to Paris, and remained there till April. It is significant, as the Vicomte de Spoelberch de Lovenjoul remarks,[*] that during the time of her stay in Paris, when Balzac’s mind was no longer disturbed by his constant longing to see her, he accomplished the last serious bout of work in his life, beginning the “Depute D’Arcis” in L’Union, “La Cousine Bette” in the Constitutionnel, and “La Derniere Incarnation de Vautrin” in La Presse.
[*] “La Genese d’un Roman de Balzac,” p. 194
He had other duties at the same time, being occupied with what he calls the most beautiful work of his life, that of preventing “a mother separated from so adorable a child as her Grace the Countess Georges, from dying of grief.” He writes to the Mniszechs on February 27th, 1847[*]: “Our dear adored Atala is in a charming and magnificent apartment (and not too dear). She has a garden; she goes a great deal to the convent” (to see Mlle. Henriette Borel). “I try to distract her and to be as much as possible Anna to her; but the name of her dear daughter is so daily and continually on her lips, that the day before yesterday, when she was enjoying herself immensely at the Varietes — in fits of laughter at the ‘Filleul de Tout le Monde,’ acted by Bouffe and Hyacinthe — in the midst of her gaiety, she asked herself in a heartbroken voice, which brought tears to my eyes, how she could laugh and amuse herself like this, without her ‘dear little one.’ I allow, dear Zephirine, that I took the liberty of telling her, that you were amusing yourself enormously without her, with your lord and master, His Majesty the King of the Coleoptera; that I was sure that you were at this time one of the happiest women in the world; and I hope that Gringalet, on whom I drew this bill of exchange, will not contradict me. I have four tolerably strong attractions to bring forward against the thought of you: 1st, the Conservatoire; 2nd, the Opera; 3rd, the Italian Opera; 4th, the Exhibition.”
[*] “Correspondance,” vol. ii. p. 312.
Balzac’s hands were certainly pleasantly full at this time. His power of writing, which had temporarily deserted him, seemed now to have returned in full vigour; and he had made forty or fifty thousand francs in three months, so was hopeful of paying off his debts, a point on which Madame Hanska wisely laid much stress. She still refused to decide anything definitely about the date of their marriage; but the house was to a great extent her property, and at this time she identified herself completely with Balzac in all the arrangements to do with it. Though he kept on his rooms in the Rue Basse and left his effects there, he moved in April 1847 to the Rue Fortunee, that he might be better able to superintend the building and decorating, and might himself keep watch over his treasures, which must gradually be unpacked and bestowed to the best advantage. About the middle of April he conducted Madame Hanska to Forbach on her way back to Wierzchownia, and himself returned to Paris to finish the house, put his affairs in order, and then follow her to Wierzchownia. There he hoped the wedding would quickly take place, and that Monsieur and Madame Honore de Balzac would return to Paris, and would live to a ripe old age in married happiness; he writing many masterpieces, she helping with advice, and forming a salon where her social position, cleverness, and charm would surround her with the highest in the land. The prospect was intoxicating; surely no one was ever so near the attainment of his most radiant visions!
On Balzac’s return to Paris, however, he was confronted by realities of the most terrible nature.
When he arrived at the Rue Basse, he found to his horror that the lock of his precious casket had been forced, and some of Madame Hanska’s letters had been abstr
acted. It was a case of blackmail, as the thief demanded 30,000 francs, in default of which the letters would at once be handed over to the Czar. If this were to happen, Balzac’s hopes of happiness were annihilated, and the consequences to Madame Hanska would be even more serious. Unless approached with the utmost caution, the Czar would certainly refuse his consent to the marriage of a Russian subject with a foreigner, and would be furious if he were to discover a secret love affair between the French novelist and one of his most important subjects. Yet how could Balzac find 30,000 francs?
Already in the grip of heart disease the agony he endured at this time took him one stage further down the valley of death. In the end he managed by frightening the thief, to effect the return of the letters without any immediate payment; but the anguish he had passed through, and the thought of the terrible consequences only just evaded, decided him to burn all the letters he had received from Madame Hanska. It was a terrible sacrifice. He describes in an unpublished letter to her his feelings, as he sat by the fire, and watched each letter curl up, blacken, and finally disappear. He had read and re-read them till they had nearly dropped to pieces, had been cheered and comforted by the sight of them when the world had gone badly, and had owned them so long that they seemed part of himself. There was the first of all, the herald of joy, the opening of a new life; and almost as precious at this moment seemed the one which discovered to him the identity of his correspondent, and held out hopes of a speedy meeting. One after another he took them out of the box which had held some of them for many years, and each seemed equally difficult to part with. However, as he wrote to Madame Hanska, he knew that he was doing right in destroying them, and that the painful sacrifice was absolutely necessary.
Works of Honore De Balzac Page 1485