by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXXVI. A FEMALE JESUIT.
During the preceding scenes which occurred in the Pompadour rotunda,occupied by Miss de Cardoville, other events took place in the residenceof the Princess Saint-Dizier. The elegance and sumptuousness of theformer dwelling presented a strong contrast to the gloomy interior ofthe latter, the first floor of which was inhabited by the princess, forthe plan of the ground floor rendered it only fit for giving parties;and, for a long time past, Madame de Saint-Dizier had renounced allworldly splendors. The gravity of her domestics, all aged and dressed inblack; the profound silence which reigned in her abode, where everythingwas spoken, if it could be called speaking, in an undertone; andthe almost monastic regularity and order of this immense mansion,communicated to everything around the princess a sad and chillingcharacter. A man of the world, who joined great courage to rareindependence of spirit, speaking of the princess (to whom Adriennede Cardoville went, according to her expression, to fight a pitchedbattle), said of her as follows: "In order to avoid having Madame deSaint-Dizier for an enemy, I, who am neither bashful nor cowardly, have,for the first time in my life, been both a noodle and a coward." Thisman spoke sincerely. But Madame de Saint-Dizier had not all at oncearrived at this high degree of importance.
Some words are necessary for the purpose of exhibiting distinctly somephases in the life of this dangerous and implacable woman who, byher affiliation with the Order of Jesuits, had acquired an occult andformidable power. For there is something even more menacing than aJesuit: it is a Jesuits; and, when one has seen certain circles, itbecomes evident that there exist, unhappily, many of those affiliated,who, more or less, uniformly dress (for the lay members of the Ordercall themselves "Jesuits of the short robe").
Madame de Saint-Dizier, once very beautiful, had been, during the lastyears of the Empire, and the early years of the Restoration, one of themost fashionable women of Paris, of a stirring, active, adventurous,and commanding spirit, of cold heart, but lively imagination. She wasgreatly given to amorous adventures, not from tenderness of heart, butfrom a passion for intrigue, which she loved as men love play--for thesake of the emotions it excites. Unhappily, such had always been theblindness or the carelessness of her husband, the Prince of Saint-Dizier(eldest brother of the Count of Rennepont and Duke of Cardoville, fatherof Adrienne), that during his life he had never said one word that couldmake it be thought that he suspected the actions of his wife. Attachingherself to Napoleon, to dig a mine under the feet of the Colossus, thatdesign at least afforded emotions sufficient to gratify the humor ofthe most insatiable. During some time, all went well. The princess wasbeautiful and spirited, dexterous and false, perfidious and seductive.She was surrounded by fanatical adorers, upon whom she played off akind of ferocious coquetry, to induce them to run their heads into graveconspiracies. They hoped to resuscitate the Fonder party, and carriedon a very active secret correspondence with some influential personagesabroad, well known for their hatred against the emperor and France.Hence arose her first epistolary relations with the Marquis d'Aigrigny,then colonel in the Russian service and aide-de-camp to General Moreau.But one day all these petty intrigues were discovered. Many knightsof Madame de Saint-Dizier were sent to Vincennes; but the emperor, whomight have punished her terribly, contented himself with exiling theprincess to one of her estates near Dunkirk.
Upon the Restoration, the persecutions which Madame de Saint-Dizier hadsuffered for the Good Cause were entered to her credit, and she acquiredeven then very considerable influence, in spite of the lightness of herbehavior. The Marquis d'Aigrigny, having entered the military service ofFrance, remained there. He was handsome, and of fashionable manners andaddress. He had corresponded and conspired with the princess, withoutknowing her; and these circumstances necessarily led to a closeconnection between them.
Excessive self-love, a taste for exciting pleasures, aspirationsof hatred, pride, and lordliness, a species of evil sympathy, theperfidious attraction of which brings together perverse natures withoutmingling them, had made of the princess and the Marquis accomplicesrather than lovers. This connection, based upon selfish and bitterfeelings, and upon the support which two characters of this dangeroustemper could lend to each other against a world in which their spirit ofintrigue, of gallantry, and of contempt had made them many enemies, thisconnection endured till the moment when, after his duel with GeneralSimon, the Marquis entered a religious house, without any oneunderstanding the cause of his unexpected and sudden resolution.
The princess, having not yet heard the hour of her conversion strike,continued to whirl round the vortex of the world with a greedy, jealous,and hateful ardor, for she saw that the last years of her beauty weredying out.
An estimate of the character of this woman may be formed from thefollowing fact:
Still very agreeable, she wished to close her worldly and volatilecareer with some brilliant and final triumph, as a great actress knowsthe proper time to withdraw from the stage so as to leave regretsbehind. Desirous of offering up this final incense to her own vanity,the princess skillfully selected her victims. She spied out in the worlda young couple who idolized each other; and, by dint of cunning andaddress, she succeeded in taking away the lover from his mistress, acharming woman of eighteen, by whom he was adored. This triumph beingachieved, Madame Saint-Dizier retired from the fashionable world in thefull blaze of her exploit. After many long conversations with the AbbeMarquis d'Aigrigny, who had become a renowned preacher, she departedsuddenly from Paris, and spent two years upon her estate near Dunkirk,to which she took only one of her female attendants, viz., Mrs. Grivois.
When the princess afterwards returned to Paris, it was impossibleto recognize the frivolous, intriguing, and dissipated woman she hadformerly been. The metamorphosis was as complete as it was extraordinaryand even startling. Saint-Dizier House, heretofore open to the banquetsand festivals of every kind of pleasure, became gloomily silent andaustere. Instead of the world of elegance and fashion, the princess nowreceived in her mansion only women of ostentatious piety, and men ofconsequence, who were remarkably exemplary by the extravagant rigor oftheir religious and monarchial principles. Above all, she drew aroundher several noted members of the higher orders of the clergy. She wasappointed patroness of a body of religious females. She had her ownconfessor, chaplin, almoner, and even spiritual director; but thislast performed his functions in partibus. The Marquis-Abbe d'Aigrignycontinued in reality to be her spiritual guide; and it is almostunnecessary to say that for a long time past their mutual relations asto flirting had entirely ceased.
This sudden and complete conversion of a gay and distinguished woman,especially as it was loudly trumpeted forth, struck the greater numberof persons with wonder and respect. Others, more discerning, onlysmiled.
A single anecdote, from amongst a thousand, will suffice to show thealarming influence and power which the princess had acquired since heraffiliation with the Jesuits. This anecdote will also exhibit the deep,vindictive, and pitiless character of this woman, whom Adrienne deCardoville had so imprudently made herself ready to brave.
Amongst the persons who smiled more or less at the conversion of Madamede Saint-Dizier were the young and charming couple whom she had socruelly disunited before she quitted forever the scenes of revelryin which she had lived. The young couple became more impassioned anddevoted to each other than ever; they were reconciled and married, afterthe passing storm which had hurled them asunder; and they indulged inno other vengeance against the author of their temporary infelicity thanthat of mildly jesting at the pious conversion of the woman who had donethem so much injury.
Some time after, a terrible fatality overtook the loving pair. Thehusband, until then blindly unsuspicious, was suddenly inflamed byanonymous communications. A dreadful rupture ensued, and the young wifeperished.
As for the husband, certain vague rumors, far from distinct, yetpregnant with secret meanings, perfidiously contrived, and a thousandtimes more detestable than formal accusations, which
can, at least, bemet and destroyed, were strewn about him with so much perseverance, witha skill so diabolical, and by means and ways so very various, that hisbest friends, by little and little, withdrew themselves from him,thus yielding to the slow, irresistible influence of that incessantwhispering and buzzing, confused as indistinct, amounting to some suchresults as this-"Well! you know!" says one.
"No!" replies another.
"People say very vile things about him."
"Do they? really! What then?"
"I don't know! Bad reports! Rumors grievously affecting his honor!"
"The deuce! That's very serious. It accounts for the coldness with whichhe is now everywhere received!"
"I shall avoid him in future!"
"So will I," etc.
Such is the world, that very often nothing more than groundless surmisesare necessary to brand a man whose very, happiness may have incurredenvy. So it was with the gentleman of whom we speak. The unfortunateman, seeing the void around him extending itself,--feeling (so to speak)the earth crumbling from beneath his feet, knew not where to find orgrasp the impalpable enemy whose blows he felt; for not once had theidea occurred to him of suspecting the princess, whom he had not seensince his adventure with her. Anxiously desiring to learn why he was somuch shunned and despised, he at length sought an explanation froman old friend; but he received only a disdainfully evasive answer;at which, being exasperated, he demanded satisfaction. His adversaryreplied--"If you can find two persons of our acquaintance, I will fightyou!" The unhappy man could not find one!
Finally, forsaken by all, without having ever obtained an explanation ofthe reason for forsaking him--suffering keenly for the fate of thewife whom he had lost, he became mad with grief, rage, and despair, andkilled himself.
On the day of his death, Madame de Saint-Dizier remarked that it wasfit and necessary that one who had lived so shamefully should come toan equally shameful end, and that he who had so long jested at all laws,human and divine, could not seemly otherwise terminate his wretched lifethan by perpetrating a last crime--suicide! And the friends of Madame deSaint-Dizier hawked about and everywhere repeated these terrible wordswith a contrite air, as if beatified and convinced! But this was notall. Along with chastisements there were rewards.
Observant people remarked that the favorites of the religious clan ofMadame de Saint-Dizier rose to high distinction with singular rapidity.The virtuous young men, such as were religiously attentive to tiresomesermons, were married to rich orphans of the Sacred Heart Convents, whowere held in reserve for the purpose; poor young girls, who, learningtoo late what it is to have a pious husband selected and imposed uponthem by a set of devotees, often expiated by very bitter tears thedeceitful favor of thus being admitted into a world of hypocrisy andfalsehood, in which they found themselves strangers without support,crushed by it if they dared to complain of the marriages to which theyhad been condemned.
In the parlor of Madame de Saint-Dizier were appointed prefects,colonels, treasurers, deputies, academicians, bishops and peers ofthe realm, from whom nothing more was required in return for theall-powerful support bestowed upon them, but to wear a pious gloss,sometimes publicly take the communion, swear furious war againsteverything impious or revolutionary,--and above all, correspondconfidentially upon "different subjects of his choosing" with the Abbed'Aigrigny,--an amusement, moreover, which was very agreeable; for theabbe was the most amiable man in the world, the most witty, and aboveall, the most obliging. The following is an historical fact, whichrequires the bitter and vengeful irony of Moliere or Pascal to do itjustice.
During the last year of the Restoration, there was one of the mightydignitaries of the court a firm and independent man, who did notmake profession (as the holy fathers call it), that is, who didnot communicate at the altar. The splendor amid which he moved wascalculated to give the weight of a very injurious example to hisindifference. The Abbe-Marquis d'Aigrigny was therefore despatched tohim; and he knowing the honorable and elevated character of the noncommunicant, thought that if he could only bring him to profess byany means (whatever the means might be) the effect would be what wasdesired. Like a man of intellect, the abbe prized the dogma but cheaplyhimself. He only spoke of the suitableness of the step, and of thehighly salutary example which the resolution to adopt it would afford tothe public.
"M. Abbe," replied the person sought to be influenced, "I have a greaterrespect for religion than you have. I should consider it an infamousmockery to go to the communion table without feeling the properconviction."
"Nonsense! you inflexible man! you frowning Alcestes," said the MarquisAbbe, smiling slyly. "Your profits and your scruples will go together,believe me, by listening to me. In short, we shall manage to make it aBLANK COMMUNION for you; for after all, what is it that we ask?--onlythe APPEARANCE!"
Now, a BLANK COMMUNION means breaking an unconsecrated wafer!
The Abbe-Marquis retired with his offers, which were rejected withindignation;--but then, the refractory man was dismissed from his placeat court. This was but a single isolated fact. Woe to all who foundthemselves opposed to the interest and principles of Madame de SaintDizier or her friends! Sooner or later, directly or indirectly, theyfelt themselves cruelly stabbed, generally immediately--some in theirdearest connections, others in their credit, some in their honor;others in their official functions; and all by secret action, noiseless,continuous, and latent, in time becoming a terrible and mysteriousdissolvent, which invisibly undermined reputations, fortunes, positionsthe most solidly established, until the moment when all sunk foreverinto the abyss, amid the surprise and terror of the beholders.
It will now be conceived how under the Restoration the Princess de SaintDizier had become singularly influential and formidable. At the time ofthe Revolution of July (1830) she had "rallied," and, strangely enough,by preserving some relation of family and of society with personsfaithful to the worship of decayed monarchy, people still attributed tothe princess much influence and power. Let us mention, at last, thatthe Prince of Saint-Dizier, having died many years since, his very largepersonal fortune had descended to his younger brother, the father ofAdrienne de Cardoville; and he, having died eighteen months ago, thatyoung lady found herself to be the last and only representative of thatbranch of the family of the Renneponts.
The Princess of Saint-Dizier awaited her niece in a very large room,rendered dismal by its gloomy green damask. The chairs, etc., coveredwith similar stuff, were of carved ebony. Paintings of scripturaland other religious subjects, and an ivory crucifix thrown up froma background of black velvet, contributed to give the apartment alugubrious and austere aspect.
Madame de Saint-Dizier, seated before a large desk, has just finishedputting the seals on numerous letters; for she had a very extensive andvery diversified correspondence. Though then aged about forty-five shewas still fair. Advancing years had somewhat thickened her shape, whichformerly of distinguished elegance, was still sufficiently handsome tobe seen to advantage under the straight folds of her black dress. Herheaddress, very simple, decorated with gray ribbons, allowed her fairsleek hair to be seen arranged in broad bands. At first look, peoplewere struck with her dignified though unassuming appearance; and wouldhave vainly tried to discover in her physiognomy, now marked withrepentant calmness, any trace of the agitations of her past life. Sonaturally grave and reserved was she, that people could not believe herthe heroine of so many intrigues and adventures and gallantry.Moreover, if by chance she ever heard any lightness of conversation, hercountenance, since she had come to believe herself a kind of "motherin the Church," immediately expressed candid but grieved astonishment,which soon changed into an air of offended chastity and disdainful pity.
For the rest, her smile, when requisite, was still full of grace, andeven of the seducing and resistless sweetness of seeming good-nature.Her large blue eyes, on fit occasions, became affectionate andcaressing. But if any one dared to wound or ruffle her pride, gainsayher orders or harm her interests, her count
enance, usually placid andserene, betrayed a cold but implacable malignity. Mrs. Grivois enteredthe cabinet, holding in her hand Florine's report of the manner in whichAdrienne de Cardoville had spent the morning.
Mrs. Grivois had been about twenty years in the service of Madame deSaint-Dizier. She knew everything that a lady's-maid could or ought tohave known of her mistress in the days of her sowing of wild (being alady) flowers. Was it from choice that the princess had still retainedabout her person this so-well-informed witness of the numerous folliesof her youth? The world was kept in ignorance of the motive; but onething was evident, viz., that Mrs. Grivois enjoyed great privilegesunder the princess, and was treated by her rather as a companion than asa tiring woman.
"Here are Florine's notes, madame," said Mrs. Grivois, giving the paperto the princess.
"I will examine them presently," said the princess; "but tell me, is myniece coming? Pending the conference at which she is to be present, youwill conduct into her house a person who will soon be here, to inquirefor you by my desire."
"Well, madame?"
"This man will make an exact inventory of everything contained inAdrienne's residence. You will take care that nothing is omitted; forthat is of very great importance."
"Yes, madame. But should Georgette or Hebe make any opposition?"
"There is no fear; the man charged with taking the inventory is of sucha stamp, that when they know him, they will not dare to oppose eitherhis making the inventory, or his other steps. It will be necessarynot to fail, as you go along with him, to be careful to obtain certainpeculiarities destined to confirm the reports which you have spread forsome time past."
"Do not have the slightest doubt, madame. The reports have all theconsistency of truth."
"Very soon, then, this Adrienne, so insolent and so haughty, will becrushed and compelled to pray for pardon; and from me!"
An old footman opened both of the folding doors, and announced theMarquis-Abbe d'Aigrigny.
"If Miss de Cardoville present herself," said the princess to Mrs.Grivois, "you will request her to wait an instant."
"Yes, madame," said the duenna, going out with the servant.
Madame de Saint-Dizier and D'Aigrigny remained alone.