Works of Honore De Balzac

by Honoré de Balzac

  [*] For the incorrectness of this statement, see the chapter on the

  Countess Mniszech.

  Such adoration of Madame Hanska’s daughter was enough to make Madame Surville jealous, especially when she was so despondent over her financial situation, but Balzac tried to cheer her thus: “You should be proud of your two children, they have written two charming letters, which have been much admired here. Two such daughters are the reward of your life; you can afford to accept many misfortunes.”[*]

  [*] Sophie Surville, the older daughter, whose matrimonial possibilities were so much discussed, was finally unhappily married to M. Mallet. She was a good harpist, and taught the harp. She died without issue. Valentine was married, 1859, to M. Louis Duhamel, a lawyer. She had a good voice for singing and literary talent; she took charge of having Balzac’s correspondence published. She had two children; a daughter who became Mme. Pierre Carrier-Belleuse, wife of an artist, and a son, publiciste distingue. Laurence de Balzac had two sons; the older Alfred de Montzaigle, dissipated, a friend of Musset, died in 1852 without issue. The younger son, Alfonse, married Mlle. Caroline Jung; he died in 1868 at Strasbourg. Of their three children, only one, Paul de Montzaigle, lived. M. Surville-Duhamel, Mme. Pierre Carrier-Belleuse, and M. de Montzaigle are the only living relatives of Balzac. Mme. Belleuse and M. de Montzaigle have each a little daughter.

  MADAME SALLAMBIER — MADAME DE MONTZAIGLE — MADAME DE BRUGNOLLE — MADAME DELANNOY — MADAME DE POMMEREUL — MADAME DE MARGONNE

  “Ah we are fine specimens in this blessed family of ours! What a

  pity we can’t put ourselves into novels.”

  Another member of Balzac’s family circle was his affectionate and amiable grandmother, whom he loved from childhood. After her husband’s death, Madame Sallambier lived with her daughter, Madame de Balzac. She seems to have had a kind disposition, and having the requisite means, she could indulge Honore in various ways. When he was brought back from college in wretched health, she condemned the schools for their neglect.

  While studying at home, Balzac frequently spent his evenings playing whist or Boston with her. Through voluntary inattention or foolish plays, she allowed him to win money which he used to buy books. Throughout his life he loved these games in memory of her. She encouraged him in his writings, and when L’Heritiere de Birague was sold for eight hundred francs, he was sure of the sale of the first copy, for she had promised to buy it. He was devoted to her, and when he had neglected writing to her for some time, he atoned by sending to her a most affectionate letter.

  After the marriage of his sister Laure, Balzac kept her informed in detail concerning the family life. Of his grandmother, we find the following:

  “Grandmamma begs me to say all the pretty things she would write if that unfortunate malady did not rob her of all her facilities! Nevertheless she begins to think her head is better, and if the spring comes there is every reason to hope she will recover her wonted gaiety. . . . Grandmamma is suffering from a nervous attack; . . . Papa says that grandmamma is a clever actress who knows the value of a walk, of a glance, and how to fall gracefully into an easy chair.”

  If Madame Sallambier with her nervous attacks annoyed Balzac in his youth, he spoke beautifully of her after her death, and referred to her as his “grandmother who loved him,” or his “most excellent grandmother.” In speaking of his grief over the death of Madame de Berny, he said that never, since the death of his grandmother, had he so deeply sounded the gulf of separation. One of his characteristics he inherited from his grandmother, that of keeping trivial things which had belonged to those he loved.

  Not a great deal is said of Balzac’s younger sister, Laurentia, but he has left this pen picture of her:

  “On the whole you know that Laurentia is as beautiful as a picture — that she has the prettiest of arms and hands, that her complexion is pale and lovely. In conversation people give her credit for plenty of sense, and find that it is all a natural sense, which is not yet developed. She has beautiful eyes, and though pale many men admire that. . . . You are not aware that Laurentia has taken a violent fancy to Augustus de L — — -. Say nothing that might lead her to suspect I have betrayed the secret, but I have all the trouble in the world to get it into her head that authors are the most villainous of matches (in respect of fortune, be it understood). Really Laurentia is quite romantic. How she would hate me if she knew with what irreverence I allude to her tender attachment.”

  This attachment was evidently not very serious, for not long afterward Laurentia was married to Monsieur de Montzaigle. His family had a title and stood well in the town, so Laurentia’s parents were pleased with the marriage. This was a great event in the family, and Balzac describes to his married sister, Laure, the accompanying excitement in the home:

  “Grandmamma is in a great state of delight; papa is quite satisfied, — so am I, — so are you. As to mamma, recall the last days of your own demoisellerie, and you will have some idea of what Laurentia and I have to endure. Nature surrounds all roses with thorns: mamma follows nature.”[*]

  [*] It was from the father of Laurentia’s husband that M. and Madame de Berny bought their home in Villeparisis.

  The happiness of poor Laurentia was of short duration. She died five years after her marriage, having two children. Her husband did not prove to be what the Balzac family had expected, and her children were left destitute for Madame de Balzac to care for. Balzac always spoke tenderly of her, and once in despair he exclaimed that at times he envied his poor sister Laurentia, who had been lying for many years in her coffin.

  After Balzac’s return from St. Petersburg, his letters were filled with allusions to Madame de Brugnolle, his housekeeper and financial counselor. He brought presents to various friends, and her he presented with a muff. Besides being very practical, economical and kind, she was a good manager for Balzac financially and strict with him regarding his diet; the bonne montagnarde did almost everything possible, from running his errands to making his home happy. He sent business letters under her name, and her fidelity and devotion are seen in her denying herself clothes in order to buy household necessities for him.

  She served the novelist as a spy when he and Gavault disagreed. When Lirette visited Paris, she treated her very kindly and gave up her own room in order to arrange comfortable quarters for her. She had some relatives who had entered a convent, and she talked of ending her days in one, but Balzac begged her to keep house for him. He felt that she was born for that! Madame de Brugnolle was of much help to him in looking after Lirette’s financial affairs, visiting her in the convent, and carrying messages to her from him. Many times she comforted him by promising to look out for his family, even consenting to go to Wierzchownia, if necessary, as Lirette’s visit had helped her to realize as never before the angelic sweetness of his Loup.

  In return for this devotion, he took her with him to Frankfort and to Bury to visit Madame de Bocarme. He celebrated the birthday of the montagnarde in 1844, giving her some very attractive presents. Her economy and devotion seemed to increase with time, and enabled him to travel without any worry about his home. What must not have been the trial to him when this happy household came to be broken up later by her marriage!

  Madame Delannoy was an old family friend of the Balzacs. She aided Balzac in his financial troubles as early in his career as 1826, and though he remained indebted to her for more than twenty years, he tried to repay her and was ever grateful to her, calling her his second mother. The following, written late in his career, reveals his general attitude towards her:

  “I have just written a long letter to Madame Delannoy, with whom I have settled my business; but this still leaves me with obligations of conscientiousness towards her, which my first book will acquit. No one could have behaved more like a mother, or been more adorable than she has been throughout all this business. She has been a mother, I will be a son.”

  But if she remained one of his principal creditors, she received m
any literary proofs of his appreciation. As early as 1831 he dedicated to her a volume of his Romans et Contes philosophiques, but later changed the title to Etudes philosophiques, and dedicated to her La Recherche de L’Absolu:

  “To Madame Josephine Delannoy, nee Doumerg.

  “Madame, may God grant that this book have a longer life than mine! The gratitude which I have vowed to you, and which I hope will equal your almost maternal affection for me, would last beyond the limits prescribed for human feeling. This sublime privilege of prolonging the life in our hearts by the life of our works would be, if there were ever a certainty in this respect, a recompense for all the labor it costs those whose ambition is such. Yet again I say: May God grant it!

  “DE BALZAC.”

  Balzac once thought of buying from Madame Delannoy a house that was left her by her friend, M. Ferraud, but which she could not keep. He felt that this would be advantageous to them both, but the plan was never carried out. Besides their financial and literary relations, their social relations were most cordial. He speaks of accompanying her and her daughter to the Italian opera twice during the absence of Madame Visconti.

  In 1842, Balzac dedicated La Maison-du-Chat-qui-pelote to Mademoiselle Marie de Montbeau, the daughter of Camille Delannoy, a friend of his sister, and the granddaughter of Madame Delannoy.

  Another friend of Balzac’s family was Madame de Pommereul. In the fall of 1828 after his serious financial loss, Balzac went to visit Baron and Madame de Pommereul in Brittany, where he obtained the material for Les Chouans, and became familiar with the chateau de Fougere. To please Madame de Pommereul, Balzac changed the name of his book from Le Gars to Les Chouans, after temporarily calling it Le Dernier Chouan.

  She has given a beautiful pen portrait of the youthful Balzac in which she describes minutely his appearance, noting his beautiful hands, his intelligent forehead and his expressive golden brown eyes. There was something in his manner of speaking, in his gestures, in his general appearance, so much goodness, confidence, naivete and frankness that it was impossible to know him without loving him, and his exuberant good nature was infectious. In spite of his misfortunes, he had not been in their company a quarter of an hour, and they had not even shown him to his room, before he had brought the general and herself to tears with laughter.

  “On some evenings he remained in the drawing-room in company with his hosts, and entered into controversies with Madame de Pommereul, who, being very pious herself, tried to persuade him to make a practice of religion; while Balzac, in return, when the discussion was exhausted, endeavored to teach her the rules of backgammon. But the one remained unconverted and the other never mastered the course of the noble game. Occasionally he helped to pass the time by inventing stories, which he told with all the vividness of which he was master.”

  A few months after this prolonged visit, Balzac wrote to General de Pommereul, expressing his deep appreciation of their hospitality, and in speaking of the book which he had just written, hoped that Madame de Pommereul would laugh at some details about the butter, the weddings, the stiles, and the difficulties of going to the ball, etc., which he had inserted in his work, — if she could read it without falling asleep.

  Balzac made perhaps his most prolonged visits in the home of another old family friend, M. de Margonne, who was living with his wife at Sache. He describes his life there thus:

  “Sache is the remains of a castle on the Indre, in one of the most delicious valleys of Touraine. The proprietor, a man of fifty-five, used to dandle me on his knee. He has a pious and intolerant wife, rather deformed and not clever. I go there for him; and besides, I am free there. They accept me throughout the region as a child; I have no value whatever, and I am happy to be there, like a monk in a monastery. I always go there to meditate serious works. The sky there is so blue, the oaks so beautiful, the calm so vast! . . . Sache is six leagues from Tours. But not a woman, not a conversation possible!”

  Not only did Balzac visit them when he wished to compose a serious work, but he often went there to recuperate from overwork. He probably did not enjoy their company, as he spoke of “having” to dine with them and he is perhaps even chargeable with ingratitude when he speaks of their parsimony.

  Like his own family, these old people were interested in seeing him married to a rich lady, but to no avail. In spite of his unkind remarks about them, Balzac appreciated their hospitality, and expressed it by dedicating to M. de Margonne Une Tenebreuse Affaire.

  MADAME CARRAUD — MADAME NIVET

  “You are my public, you and a few other chosen souls, whom I wish to please; but yourself especially, whom I am proud to know, you whom I have never seen or listened to without gaining some benefit, you who have the courage to aid me in tearing up the evil weeds from my field, you who encourage me to perfect myself, you who resemble so much that angel to whom I owe everything; in short, you who are so good towards my ill-doings. I alone know how quickly I turn to you. I have recourse to your encouragements, when some arrow has wounded me; it is the wood-pigeon regaining its nest. I bear you an affection which resembles no other, and which can have no rival, because it is alone of its kind. It is so bright and pleasant near you! From afar, I can tell you, without fear of being put to silence, all I think about your mind, about your life. No one can wish more earnestly that the road be smooth for you. I should like to send you all the flowers you love, as I often send above your head the most ardent prayers for your happiness.”

  Balzac’s friendship with Madame Zulma Carraud was not only of the purest and most beautiful nature, but it lasted longer than his friendship with any other woman, terminating only with his death. It was even more constant than that with his sister Laure, which was broken at times. Though Madame Surville states that it began in 1826, the following passage shows an earlier date: “I embrace you, and press you to a heart devoted to you. A friendship as true and tender now in 1838 as in 1819. Nineteen years!” The first letter to her in either edition of his correspondence, however, is dated 1826.

  Madame Carraud, as Zulma Tourangin, attended the same convent as Balzac’s sister Laure. Her husband was a distinguished officer in the artillery and a man of learning, but absolutely lacking in ambition, preferring to direct the instruction of Saint-Cyr rather than to risk the chances of advancement presented in active service. He became inspector of the gunpowder manufactory at Angouleme, and later retired to his home at Frapesle, near Issoudun. Though an excellent husband, his inactivity was a great annoyance to his wife. According to several Balzacian writers, Madame Carraud became the type of the femme incomprise for Balzac, but the present writer is inclined to agree with M. Serval when he calls this judgment astonishing, since she was a woman who adored her husband and sons, was an author of some moral books for children, and nothing in her suggested either vagueness of soul or melancholy. Madame Carraud herself gives a glimpse of her married life in saying to Balzac that she and her husband are not sympathetic in everything, that being of different temperaments things appear differently to them, but that she knows happiness, and her life is not empty.

  Often when sick, discouraged, overworked or pursued by his creditors, Balzac sought refuge in her home, and with a pure and disinterested maternal affection, she calmed him and inspired him with courage to continue the battle of life. It was indeed the maternal element that he needed and longed for, and Madame Carraud seems to have been a rare mother who really understood her child. He confided in her not only his financial worries, but also his love affairs, his aspirations in life, and his ideas of woman:

  “I care more for the esteem of a few persons, amongst whom you are one of the first, both in friendship and in high intellect — one of the noblest souls I have ever known, — than I care for the esteem of the masses, for whom I have, in truth, a profound contempt. There are some vocations that must be obeyed, and something drags me irresistibly towards glory and power. It is not a happy life. There is in me a worship of woman, and a need of loving, which has never be
en completely satisfied. Despairing of ever being loved and understood as I desire, by the woman I have dreamt of (never having met her, except under one form — that of the heart), I have thrown myself into the tempestuous region of political passions and into the stormy and parching atmosphere of literary glory. . . . If ever I should find a wife and a fortune, I could resign myself very easily to domestic happiness; but where are these things to be found? Where is the family which would have faith in a literary fortune? It would drive me mad to owe my fortune to a woman, unless I loved her, or to owe it to flatteries; I am obliged, therefore, to remain isolated. In the midst of this desert, be assured that friendships such as yours, and the assurance of finding a shelter in a loving heart, are the best consolations I can have. . . . To dedicate myself to the happiness of a woman is my constant dream, but I do not believe marriage and love can exist in poverty. . . . I work too hard and I am too much worried with other things to be able to pay attention to those sorrows which sleep and make their nest in the heart. It may be that I shall come to the end of my life, without having realized the hopes I entertained from them. . . . As regards my soul, I am profoundly sad. My work alone keeps me alive. Will there never be a woman for me in this world? My fits of despondency and bodily weariness come upon me more frequently, and weigh upon me more heavily; to sink under this crushing load of fruitless labor, without having near me the gentle caressing presence of woman, for whom I have worked so much!”