[*] Balzac should have said an interval of eight years instead of seven, for he visited her in Vienna in May and June, 1835, and he wrote this in September 1843. This is only one of the novelist’s numerous mistakes in figuring, seen throughout his entire works.
Balzac arrived in St. Petersburg on July 1729, and left there late in September,[*] 1843, stopping to visit in Berlin and Dresden. Becoming very ill, he cut short his visit to Mayence and Cologne and arrived in Paris November 3, in order to consult his faithful Dr. Nacquart. Excess of work, the sorrow of leaving Madame Hanska, disappointment, and deferred hopes were too much for his nervous system. His letters to Madame Hanska were, if possible, filled with greater detail than ever concerning his debts, his household and family matters, his works and society gossip. The tu frequently replaces the vous, and having apparently exhausted all the endearing names in the French language, he resorted to the Hebrew, and finds that Lididda means so many beautiful things that he employs this word. He calls her Liline or Line; she becomes his Louloup, his “lighthouse,” his “happy star,” and the sicura richezza, senza brama.
[*] Unless the editor of Lettres a l’Etrangere is confusing the French and Russian dates, he has made a mistake in dating certain of Balzac’s letters from St. Petersburg. He had two dated October 1843, St. Petersburg, and on his way home from there Balzac writes from Taurogen dating his letter September 27-October 10, 1843. Hence the exact date of his departure from St. Petersburg is obscure.
Madame Hanska and Balzac seem to have had many idiosyncrasies in common, among which was their penchant for jewelry, as well as perfumes. Since their meeting at Geneva, the two exchanged gifts of jewelry frequently, and the discussion, engraving, measuring, and exchanging of various rings occupied much of Balzac’s precious time.
His fondness for antiques was another extravagance, and he invested not a little in certain pieces of furniture which had belonged to Marie de Medicis and Henri IV; this purchase he regretted later, and talked of selling, but, instead, added continually to his collection. He was constantly sending, or wanting to send some present to Madame Hanska or to her daughter Anna, but nothing could be compared with the priceless gift he received from her. The Daffinger miniature arrived February 2, 1844.
As a New Year’s greeting for 1844, Balzac dedicated to Madame Hanska Les Bourgeois de Paris, later called Les petits Bourgeois, saying that the first work written after his brief visit with her should be inscribed to her. This dedication is somewhat different from the one published in his OEuvres:
“To Constance-Victoire:[*]
“Here, madame and friend is one of those works which fall, we know not whence, into an author’s mind and afford him pleasure before he can estimate how they will be received by the public, that great judge of our time. But, almost sure of your good-will, I dedicate it to you. It belongs to you, as formerly the tithe belonged to the church, in memory of God from whom all things come, who makes all ripen, all mature! Some lumps of clay left by Moliere at the base of his statue of Tartufe have been molded by a hand more audacious than skilful. But, at whatever distance I may be below the greatest of humorists, I shall be satisfied to have utilized these little pieces of the stage-box of his work to show the modern hypocrite at work. That which most encouraged me in this difficult undertaking is to see it separated from every religious question, which was so injurious to the comedy of Tartufe, and which ought to be removed to-day. May the double significance of your name be a prophecy for the author, and may you be pleased to find here the expression of his respectful gratitude.
“DE BALZAC.
”January 1, 1844.”
[*] Constance was either one of Madame Hanska’s real names, or one given her by Balzac, for he writes to her, in speaking of Mademoiselle Borel’s entering the convent: “My most sincere regards to Soeur Constance, for I imagine that Saint Borel will take one of your names.” Although Balzac hoped at one time to have Les petits Bourgeois completed by July 1844, it was left unfinished at his death, and was completed and published in 1855.
During the winter of 1844, Madame Hanska wrote a story and then threw it into the fire. In doing this she carried out a suggestion given her by Balzac several years before, when he wrote her that he liked to have a woman write and study, but she should have the courage to burn her productions. She told the novelist what she had done, and he requested her to rewrite her study and send it to him, and he would correct it and publish it under his name. In this way she could enjoy all the pleasure of authorship in reading what he would preserve of her beautiful and charming prose. In the first place, she must paint a provincial family, and place the romantic, enthusiastic young girl in the midst of the vulgarities of such an existence; and then, by correspondence, make a transit to the description of a poet in Paris. A friend of the poet, who is to continue the correspondence, must be a man of decided talent, and the denouement must be in his favor against the great poet. Also the manias and the asperities of a great soul which alarm and rebuff inferior souls should be shown; in doing this she would aid him in earning a few thousand francs.
Her story, in the hands of this great wizard, grew like a mushroom, without pain or effort, and soon developed into the romantic novel, Modeste Mignon. She had thrown her story into the fire, but the fire had returned it to him and given him power, as did the coal of fire on the lips of the great prophet, and he wished to give all the glory to his adored collaborator.
When reading this book, Madame Hanska objected to Balzac’s having made the father of the heroine scold her for beginning a secret correspondence with an author, feeling that Balzac was disapproving of her conduct in writing to him first, but Balzac assured her that such was not his intention, and that he considered this demarche of hers as royale and reginale. Another trait, which she probably did not recognize, was that just as the great poet Canalis was at first indifferent to the letters of the heroine, and allowed Ernest de la Briere to answer them, so was Balzac rather indifferent to hers, and Madame Carraud — as already stated — is supposed to have replied to one of them.
There is no doubt that Balzac had his Louloup in mind while writing this story, for in response to the criticism that Modest was too clever, he wrote Madame Hanska that she and her cousin Caliste who had served him as models for his heroine were superior to her. He first dedicated this work to her under the name of un Etrangere, but seeing the mistake the public made in ascribing this dedication to the Princesse Belgiojoso, he at a later date specified the nationality, and inscribed the book:
“To a Polish Lady:
“Daughter of an enslaved land, an angel in love, a demon in imagination, a child in faith, an old man in experience, a man in brain, a woman in heart, a giant in hope, a mother in suffering and a poet in your dreams, — this work, in which your love and your fancy, your faith, your experience, your suffering, your hopes and your dreams are like chains by which hangs a web less lovely than the poetry cherished in your soul — the poetry whose expression when it lights up your countenance is, to those who admire you, what the characters of a lost language are to the learned — this work is yours.
“DE BALZAC.”
In La fausse Maitresse, Balzac represented Madame Hanska in the role of the Countess Clementine Laginska, who was silently loved by Thaddee Paz, a Polish refugee. This Thaddee Paz was no other than Thaddee Wylezynski, a cousin who adored her, and who died in 1844. Balzac learned of the warm attachment existing between Madame Hanska and her cousin soon after meeting her, and compared his faithful friend Borget to her Thaddee. On hearing of the death of Thaddee, he writes her: “The death of Thaddee, which you announce to me, grieves me. You have told me so much of him, that I loved one who loved you so well, although! You have doubtless guessed why I called Paz, Thaddee. Poor dear one, I shall love you for all those whose love you lose!”
Balzac longed to be free from his debts, and have undisturbed possession of Les Jardies, where they could live en pigeons heureux. Ever inclined to give advice, he suggested to her that s
he should have her interests entirely separate form Anna’s, quoting the axiom, N’ayez aucune collision d’interet avec vos enfants, and that she was wrong in refusing a bequest from her deceased husband. She should give up all luxuries, dismiss all necessary employees and not spend so much of her income but invest it. He felt that she and her daughter were lacking in business ability; this proved to be too true, but Balzac was indeed a very poor person to advise her on this subject; however, her lack of accuracy in failing to date her letters was, to be sure, a great annoyance to him.
On the other hand, she suspected her Nore, had again heard that he was married, and that he was given to indulging in intoxicating liquors; she advised him not to associate so much with women.
Having eventually won her lawsuit, she returned to Wierzchownia in the spring of 1844, after a residence of almost two years in St. Petersburg. Her daughter Anna had made her debut in St. Petersburg society, and had met the young Comte George de Mniszech, who was destined to become her husband. Balzac was not pleased with this choice, and felt that the protege of the aged Comte Potocki would make a better husband, for moral qualities were to be considered rather than fortune.
After spending the summer and autumn at her home, Madame Hanska went to Dresden for the winter. As early as August, Balzac sought permission to visit her there, making his request in time to arrange his work in advance and secure the money for the journey, in case she consented. While in St. Petersburg, she had given him money to buy some gift for Anna, so he planned to take both of them many beautiful things, and une cave de parfums as a gift de nez a nez. If she would not consent to his coming to Dresden, he would come to Berlin, Leipsic, Frankfort, Aix-la-Chapelle, or anywhere else. He became impatient to know his fate, and her letters were so irregular that he exclaimed: “In heaven’s name, write me regularly three times a month!”
Poor Balzac’s dream was to be on the way to Dresden, but this was not to be realized. It will be remembered, that Madame Hanska’s family did not approve of Balzac nor did they appreciate his literary worth, they felt that the marriage would be a decided mesalliance, and exerted their influence against him. Discouraged by them and her friends, she forbade his coming. While her family called him a scribe exotique, Balzac indirectly told her of the appreciation of other women, saying that Madame de Girardin considered him to be one of the most charming conversationalists of the day.
This uncertainty as to his going to visit his “Polar Star” affected him to such a degree that he could not concentrate his mind on his work, and he became impatient to the point of scolding her:
“But, dear Countess, you have made me lose all the month of January and the first fifteen days of February by saying to me: ‘I start — to-morrow — next week,’ and by making me wait for letters; in short, by throwing me into rages which I alone know! This has brought a frightful disorder into my affairs, for instead of getting my liberty February 15, I have before me a month of herculean labor, and on my brain I must inscribe this which will be contradicted by my heart: ‘Think no longer of your star, nor of Dresden, nor of travel; stay at your chain and work miserably! . . . Dear Countess, I decidedly advise you to leave Dresden at once. There are princesses in that town who infect and poison your heart, and were it not for Les Paysans, I should have started at once to prove to that venerable invalid of Cythera how men of my stamp love; men who have not received, like her prince, a Russian pumpkin in place of a French heart from the hands of hyperborean nature. . . . Tell your dear Princess that I have known you since 1833, and that in 1845 I am ready to go from Paris to Dresden to see you for a day; and it is not impossible for me to make this trip; . . .”
In the meantime she had not only forbidden his coming to visit her, but had even asked him not to write to her again at Dresden, to which he replies:
“May I write without imprudence, before receiving a counter-order? Your last letter counseled me not to write again to Dresden. However, I take up my pen on the invitation contained in your letter of the 8th. Since you, as well as your child, are absolutely determined to see your Lirette again, there is but one way for it, viz., to come to Paris.”
He planned how she could secure a passport for Frankfort and the Rhine and meet him at Mayence, where he would have a passport for his sister and his niece so that they could come to Paris to remain from March 15 until May 15. Once in Paris, in a small suite of rooms furnished by him, they could visit Lirette at the convent, take drives, frequent the theatres, shop at a great advantage, and keep everything in the greatest secrecy. He continues:
“Dear Countess, the uncertainty of your arrival at Frankfort has weighed heavily on me, for how can I begin to work, whilst awaiting a letter, which may cause me to set out immediately? I have not written a line of the Paysans. From a material point of view, all this has been fatal to me. Not even your penetrating intelligence can comprehend this, as you know nothing of Parisian economy nor the difficulties in the life of a man who is trying to live on six thousand francs a year.”
Thus was his time wasted; and when he dared express gently and lovingly the feelings which were overpowering him, his beautiful Chatelaine was offended, and rebuked him for his impatience. Desperate and almost frantic, he writes her:
“Dresden and you dizzy me; I do not know what is to be done. There is nothing more fatal than the indecision in which you have kept me for three months. If I had departed the first of January to return February 28, I should be more advanced (in work) and I would have had two good months at St. Petersburg. Dear sovereign star, how do you expect me to be able to conceive two ideas, to write two sentences, with my heart and head agitated as they have been since last November; it is enough to drive a man mad! I have drenched myself with coffee to no avail, I have only increased the nervous trouble of my eyes; . . . I am between two despairs, that of not seeing you, of not having seen you, and the financial and literary chagrin, the chagrin of self-respect. Oh! Charles II was right in saying: ‘But She? . . .’ in all matters which his ministers submitted to him.”
On receipt of a letter from her April 18, 1845, saying, “I desire much to see you,” he rushed off at once to Dresden, forgetful of all else. In July, Madame Hanska and her daughter accompanied him home, traveling incognito as Balzac’s sister and his niece, just as he had planned. Anna is said to have taken the name of Eugenie, perhaps in remembrance of Balzac’s heroine, Eugenie Grandet. After stopping at various places on the way, they spent a few weeks at Paris. Balzac had prepared a little house in Passy near him for his friends, and he took much pleasure in showing them his treasures and Paris. Their identity was not discovered, and in August he accompanied them as far as Brussels on their return to Dresden. There they met Count George Mniszech, the fiance of Anna, who had been with them most of the time.
Balzac could scarcely control his grief at parting, but he was not separated from his Predilecta long. The following month he spent several days with her at Baden-Baden, saying of his visit:
“Baden has been for me a bouquet of sweet flowers without a thorn. We lived there so peacefully, so delightfully, and so completely heart to heart. I have never been so happy before in my life. I seemed to catch a glimpse of that future which I desire and dream of in the midst of my overwhelming labors. . . .”
The happiness of Madame Hanska did not seem to be so great, for, ever uncertain, she consulted a fortune-teller about him. To this he replies: “Tell your fortune-teller that her cards have lied, and that I am not preoccupied with any blonde, except Dame Fortune.” As to whether she was justified in being suspicious, one can judge from the preceding pages. Balzac always denied or explained to her these accusations; however true were some of his vindications of himself, he certainly exaggerated in assuring her that he always told her the exact truth and never hid from her the smallest trifle whether good or bad.
In October, 1845, the novelist left Paris again, met his “Polar Star,” her daughter and M. de Mniszech at Chalons, and accompanied them on their Italian tour by w
ay of Marseilles as far as Naples. On his return to Marseilles on November 12, he invested in wonderful bargains in bric-a-brac, a favorite pursuit which eventually cost him a great deal in worry and time as well as much money. Madame Hanska had supplied his purse from time to time.
Although he was being pressed by debts and for unfinished work, having wasted almost the entire year and having had much extra expense in traveling, Balzac could not rise to the situation, and implored his Chatelaine to resign herself to keeping him near her, for he had done nothing since he left Dresden. In this frame of mind, he writes:
“Nothing amuses me, nothing distracts me, nothing enlivens me; it is the death of the soul, the death of the will, the collapse of the entire being; I feel that I cannot take up my work until I see my life decided, fixed, settled. . . . I am quite exhausted; I have waited too long, I have hoped too much, I have been too happy this year; and I no longer wish anything else. After so many years of toil and misfortune, to have been free as a bird of the air, a thoughtless traveler, super-humanly happy, and then to come back to a dungeon! . . . is that possible? . . . I dream, I dream by day, by night; and my heart’s thought, folding upon itself, prevents all action of the thought of the brain — it is fearful!”
Balzac was ever seeing objects worthy to be placed in his art collection, going quietly through Paris on foot, and having his friend Mery continue to secure bargains at Marseilles. A most important event at this period is the noticeable decline in the novelist’s health. Though these attacks of neuralgia and numerous colds were regarded as rather casual, had he not been so imbued with optimism — an inheritance from his father — he might have foreseen the days of terrible suffering and disappointment that were to come to him in Russia. Nature was beginning to revolt; the excessive use of coffee, the strain of long hours of work with little sleep, the abnormal life in general which he had led for so many years, and this suspense about the ultimate decision of the woman he so adored, were weakening him physically.
Works of Honore De Balzac Page 1547