Part 18 (1/2)
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 pa.s.sport for Frankfort and the Rhine and meet him at Mayence, where he would have a pa.s.sport 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 Pa.s.sy near him for his friends, and he took much pleasure in showing them his treasures and Paris. Their ident.i.ty 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 a.s.suring 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 way of Ma.r.s.eilles as far as Naples. On his return to Ma.r.s.eilles 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 Ma.r.s.eilles. 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.
In January, 1846, Madame Hanska was in Dresden again, and as was always the case when in that city, she wrote accusing him. This time the charge was that of indulging in ign.o.ble gossip, and the reproach was so unjust that, without finis.h.i.+ng the reading of the letter, he exposed himself for hours in the streets of Paris to snow, to cold and to fatigue, utterly crushed by this accusation of which he was so innocent. In his delicate physical condition, such shocks were conducive to cardiac trouble, especially since his heart had long been affected. After perusing the letter to the end, he reflected that these grievous words came not from her, but from strangers, so he poured forth his burning adoration, his longing for a _home_, where he could drink long draughts of a life in common, the life of two.
In the following March the pa.s.sionate lover was drawn by his _Predilecta_ to the Eternal City, and a few months later they were in Strasbourg, where a definite engagement took place. In October he joined her again, this time at Wiesbaden, to attend the marriage of Anna to the Comte George de Mniszech. This brief visit had a delightful effect: ”From Frankfort to Forbach, I existed only in remembrance of you, going over my four days like a cat who has finished her milk and then sits licking her lips.”
Madame Hanska had constantly refused to be separated from her daughter, but now Balzac hoped that he could hasten matters, so he applied to his boyhood friend, M. Germeau, prefect of Metz, to see if he, in his official capacity, could not waive the formality of the law and accelerate his marriage; but since all Frenchmen are equal before the _etat-civil_, this could not be accomplished.
It was during their extensive travels in 1846 that Balzac began calling the party ”Bilboquet's troup of mountebanks”: Madame Hanska became Atala; Anna, Zephirine; George, Gringalet; and Balzac, Bilboquet. Although Madame Hanska cautioned him about his extravagance in gathering works of art, he persisted in buying them while traveling, so it became necessary to find a home in which to place his collection. It is an interesting fact that while making this collection, he was writing _Le Cousin Pons_, in which the hero has a pa.s.sion for acc.u.mulating rare paintings and curios with which he fills his museum and impoverishes himself. Balzac had purposed calling this book _Le Parasite_, but Madame Hanska objected to this name, which smacked so strongly of the eighteenth century, and he changed it. As he was also writing _La Cousine Bette_ at this time, we can see not only that his power of application had returned to him, but that he was producing some of his strongest work.
For some time Balzac had been looking for a home worthy of his _fiancee_ and had finally decided on the Villa Beaujon, in the rue Fortunee. Since this home was created ”for her and by her,” it was necessary for her to be consulted in the reconstruction and decoration of it, so he brought her secretly to Paris, and her daughter and son-in-law returned to Wierzchownia. This was not only a long separation for so devoted a mother and daughter, but there was some danger lest her incognito be discovered; Balzac, accordingly, took every precaution. It is easy to picture the extreme happiness of the novelist in conducting his _Louloup_ over Paris, in having her near him while he was writing some of his greatest masterpieces, and, naturally, hoping that the everlasting debts would soon be defrayed and the marriage ceremony performed, but fortunately, he was not permitted to know beforehand of the long wait and the many obstacles that stood in his way.
Just what happened during the spring and summer of 1847 is uncertain, as few letters of this period exist in print. Miss Sandars (_Balzac_), states that about the middle of April Balzac conducted Madame Hanska to Forbach on her return to Wierzchownia, and when he returned to Paris he found that some of her letters to him had been stolen, 30,000 francs being demanded for them at once, otherwise the letters to be turned over to the Czar. Miss Sandars states also that this trouble hastened the progress of his heart disease, and that when the letters were eventually secured (without the payment) Balzac burned them, lest such a catastrophe should occur again. The Princess Radziwill says that the story of the letters was invented by Balzac and is ridiculous; also, that it angered her aunt because Balzac revealed his ignorance of Russian matters, by saying such things. Lawton (_Balzac_) intimates that Balzac and Madame Hanska quarreled, she being jealous and suspicious of his fidelity, and that he burned her letters. De Lovenjoul (_Un Roman d'Amour_) makes the same statement and adds that this trouble increased his heart disease. But he says also (_La Genese d'un Roman de Balzac_) that Madame Hanska spent two months secretly in Paris in April and May; yet, a letter written by Balzac, dated February 27, 1847, shows that she was in Paris at that time.
Balzac went to Wierzchownia in September, 1847, and traveled so expeditiously that he arrived there several days before his letter which told of his departure. When one remembers how he had planned with M. de Hanski more than ten years before to be his guest in this chateau, one can imagine his great delight now in journeying thither with the hope of accomplis.h.i.+ng the great desire of his life. He was royally entertained at the chateau and was given a beautiful little suite of rooms composed of a salon, a sitting-room, and a bed-room.[*]
[*] This house, where all the mementos of Balzac, including his portrait, were preserved intact by the family, has been utterly destroyed by the Bolsheviks.
Regarding the vital question of his marriage, he writes his sister:
”My greatest wish and hope is still far from its accomplishment.