It was after Balzac met Madame de Castries that one notes his extravagant tastes and love of display as shown in his horses and carriage, his extra servant, his numerous waistcoats, his gold buttons, his appearance at the opera with his wonderful cane, and his indulgence in rare pictures, old furniture, and bric-a-brac in general.
Induced to follow her to Aix, he continued his work, rising at five in the morning and working until half past five in the afternoon. His lunch came from the circle, and at six o’clock, he dined with Madame de Castries, and spent the evening with her. His intimacy with this illustrious family increased, and he accepted an invitation to accompany them to Italy, giving several reasons for this journey:
“I am at the gates of Italy, and I fear to give way to the temptation of passing through them. The journey would not be costly; I could make it with the Fitz-James family, who would be exceedingly agreeable; they are all perfect to me. . . . I travel as fourth passenger in Mme. de Castries’ vetturino and the bargain — which includes everything, food, carriages, hotels — is a thousand francs for all of us to go from Geneva to Rome; making my share two hundred and fifty francs. . . . I shall make this splendid journey with the Duke, who will treat me as if I were his son. I also shall be in relation with the best society; I am not likely to meet with such an opportunity again. M. de Fitz-James has been in Italy before, he knows the country, and will spare me all loss of time. Besides this, his name will throw open many doors to me. The Duchess and he are both more than kind to me, in every way, and the advantages of their society are great.”
From Aix they went to Geneva. Just what happened here, we shall probably never know. Suddenly abandoning the proposed trip, Balzac writes his mother:
“It is advisable I should return to France for three months. . . . Besides, my traveling companions will not be at Naples till February. I shall, therefore, come back, but not to Paris; my return will not be known to any one; and I shall start again for Naples in February, via Marseilles and the steamer. I shall be more at rest on the subjects of money and literary obligations.”
Later he alludes thus to his sudden departure from Geneva:
“Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu! God, in whom I believe, owed me some sweet emotions at the sight of Geneva, for I left it disconsolate, cursing everything, abhorring womankind! With what joy shall I return to it, my celestial love, my Eva!”
Thus was ended an ardent friendship of about eight months’ duration, for instead of rejoining the Duchesse de Castries in Italy Balzac’s first visit to that country was made many years later, and then in the delightful company of his “Polar Star.”
In speaking of this sudden breach, Miss M. F. Sandars says:
“We can only conjecture the cause of the final rupture, as no satisfactory explanation is forthcoming. The original ‘Confession’ in the Medecin de Campagne, which is the history of Balzac’s relations and parting with Madame de Castries, is in the possession of the Vicomte de Spoelberch de Lovenjoul. The present ‘Confession’ was substituted for it, because the first revealed too much of Balzac’s private life. However, even in the original ‘Confession,’ we learn no reason for Madame de Castries’ sudden resolve to dismiss her adorer, as Balzac declares with indignant despair that he can give no explanation of it. Apparently she parted from him one evening with her usual warmth of affection, and next morning everything was changed, and she treated him with the utmost coldness.”
Fully to appreciate what this friendship meant to both, one must consider the private life of each. As has been seen, it was in the summer of 1832 that Balzac and his Dilecta decided to sever their intimate connection, and since his Chatelaine of Wierzchownia had not yet become the dominating force in his life, his heart was doubtless yearning for some one to adore.
There was also an aching void in the heart of Madame de Castries. She, too, was recovering from an amorous attachment, more serious than was his, for death had recently claimed the young Count Metternich. Perhaps then, each was seeking consolation in the other’s society.
There was nothing more astonishing or charming than to see in the evening, in one of the most simple little drawing-rooms, antiquely furnished with tables, cushions of old velvet and screens of the eighteenth century, this woman, her spine injured, reclining in her invalid’s chair, languid, but without affectation. This woman — with her profile more Roman than Greek, her hair falling over her high, white brow — was the Duchesse de Castries, nee de Maille, related to the best families of the Faubourg Saint-Germain. Accompanying the young Comte de Metternich on the hunt, she was caught in the branch of a tree, and fell, injuring her spine. But a shadow of her former brilliant self — such had become this beauty, once so dazzling that the moment she entered the drawing-room, her gorgeous robe falling over shoulders worthy of a Titian, the brilliancy of the candles was literally effaced.[*]
[*] Philarete Chasles was a frequent visitor of her salon. When Balzac
visited Madame Hanska at Vienna in the summer of 1835, he did a
favor for the Duchesse de Castries while there. He wrote La
Filandiere, 1835, one of his Contes drolatiques, for Madame de
Castries’ son, M. le baron d’Aldenburg.
Balzac refers frequently to Count Metternich in writing to Madame
Hanska of his association with Madame de Castries:
“There is still a Metternich in this adventure; but this time it is the son, who died in Florence. I have already told you of this cruel affair, and I had no right to tell you. Though separated from that person out of delicacy, all is not over yet. I suffer through her; but I do not judge her. . . . Madame de C — — insists that she has never loved any one except M. de M — — and that she loves him still, that Artemisia of Ephesus. . . . You asked me, I believe, about Madame de C — — She has taken the thing, as I told you, tragically, and now distrusts the M — — family. Beneath all this, on both sides there is something inexplicable, and I have no desire to look for the key of mysteries which do not concern me. I am with Madame de C — — on the proper terms of politeness, and as you yourself would wish me to be.”
After their abrupt separation at Geneva, their relations continued to be estranged:
“For the moment I will tell you that Madame de C — — has written me that we are not to see each other again; she has taken offense at a letter, and I at many other things. Be assured that there is no love in all this! . . . I meant to speak to you of Madame de C — — , but I have not the time. Twenty-five days hence I will tell you by word of mouth. In two words, your Honoré, my Eva, grew angry at the coldness which simulated friendship. I said what I thought; the reply was that I ought not to see again a woman to whom I could say such cruel things. I asked a thousand pardons for the ‘great liberty,’ and we continue on a very cold footing.”
Balzac was deeply wounded through his passionate love for Madame de Castries, and resented her leaving him in the depths of an abyss of coldness after having inflamed him with the fire of her soul; he began to think of revenge:
“I abhor Madame de C — — , for she blighted my life without giving me another, — I do not say a comparable one, but without giving me what she promised. There is not the shadow of wounded vanity, oh! but disgust and contempt . . . If Madame de C — — ’s letter displeases you, say so frankly, my love. I will write to her that my affections are placed in a heart too jealous for me to be permitted to correspond with a woman who has her reputation for beauty, for charm, and that I act frankly in telling her so. . . .”
Indeed, his experience with Madame de Castries at Geneva had made him so unhappy that on his return to that city to visit his Predilecta, he had moments of joy mingled with sorrow, as the scenery recalled how, on his previous visit, he had wept over his illusions perdues. While other writers suggest different causes, one might surmise that this serious disappointment was the beginning of Balzac’s heart trouble, for in speaking of it, he says: “It is necessary for my life to be bright and pleasant. The cruelties of
the woman whom you know have been the cause of the trouble; then the disasters of 1848. . . .”
He tried to overcome his dejection by intense work, but he could not forget the tragic suffering he had undergone. The experience he had recently passed through he disclosed in one of his most noted stories, La Duchesse de Langeais, which he wrote largely in 1834 at the same fatal city of Geneva, but this time, while enjoying the society of the beautiful Madame Hanska. In this story, under the name of the heroine, the Duchesse de Langeais, he describes the Duchesse de Castries:
“This was a woman artificially educated, but in reality ignorant; a woman whose instincts and feelings were lofty, while the thought which should have controlled them was wanting. She squandered the wealth of her nature in obedience to social conventions; she was ready to brave society, yet she hesitated till her scruples degenerated into artifice. With more wilfulness than force of character, impressionable rather than enthusiastic, gifted with more brain than heart; she was supremely a woman, supremely a coquette, and above all things a Parisienne, loving a brilliant life and gaiety, reflecting never, or too late; imprudent to the verge of poetry, and humble in the depths of her heart, in spite of her charming insolence. Like some straight-growing reed, she made a show of independence; yet, like the reed, she was ready to bend to a strong hand. She talked much of religion, and had it not at heart, though she was prepared to find in it a solution of her life.”
In the same story under the name of the Marquis de Montriveau, Balzac is doubtless portraying himself. It was probably in the home of the Duchesse de Castries that Balzac conceived some of his ideas of the aristocracy of the exclusive Faubourg Saint-Germain, a picture of which he has drawn in this story of which she is the heroine. Her influence is seen also in the characters so minutely drawn of the heartless Parisienne, no longer young, but seductive, refined and aristocratic, though deceptive and perfidious.
Before publishing La Duchesse de Langeais, the novelist was either tactful or vindictive enough to call on Madame de Castries and read to her his new book. He says of this visit: “I have just returned from Madame de C — — , whom I do not want for an enemy when my book comes out and the best means of obtaining a defender against the Faubourg Saint-Germain is to make her approve of the work in advance; and she greatly approved of it.” But a few weeks later, he writes: “Here I am, on bad terms with Madame de C — — on account of the Duchesse de Langeais — so much the better.” If Balzac refers to Madame de Castries in the following except, one may even say that he had her correct his work.
“Say whatever you like about La Duchesse de Langeais, your remarks do not affect me; but a lady whom you may perhaps know, illustrious and elegant, has approved everything, corrected everything like a royal censor, and her authority on ducal matters is incontestable; I am safe under the shadow of her shawl.”
Balzac continued to call on her and to write to her occasionally, and was very sympathetic to her illness, especially as her Parisian friends seemed to have abandoned her. Though death did not come to her until more than twenty-five years later, he writes at this time:
“Madame de Castries is dying; the paralysis is attacking the other limb. Her beauty is no more; she is blighted. Oh! I pity her. She suffers horribly and inspires pity only. She is the only person I visit, and then, for one hour every week. It is more than I really can do, but the hour is compelled by the sight of that slow death.”
In her despondency he tries to cheer her:
“I do not like your melancholy; I should scold you well if you were here. I would put you on a large divan, where you would be like a fairy in the midst of her palace, and I would tell you that in this life you must love in order to live. Now, you do not love. A lively affection is the bread of the soul, and when the soul is not fed it grows starved, like the body. The bonds of the soul and body are such that each suffers with the other. . . . A thousand kindly things in return for your flowers, which bring me much happiness, but I wish for something more. . . . You have mingled bitterness with the flatteries you have the goodness to bestow on my book, as if you knew all the weight of your words and how far they would reach. I would a thousand times rather you would consider the book and the pen as things of your own, than receive these praises.”[*]
[*] It is interesting to note Balzac’s fondness for flowers, as is seen in his association of them with various women, and the prominent place he has given them in some of his works.
Though his visits continued, their friendship gradually grew colder, and in 1836 he writes: “I have broken the last frail relations of politeness with Madame de C — — . She enjoys the society of MM. Janni and Sainte-Beauve, who have so outrageously wounded me. It seemed to me bad taste, and now I am happily out of it.”
La Duchesse de Langeais appeared in 1834, but Madame de Castries had not fully wreaked her revenge on Balzac. For some time an Irish woman, a Miss Patrickson, had insisted on translating Balzac’s works. Madame de Castries engaged her as teacher of English, and used her as a means of ensnaring Balzac by having her write him a love letter and sign it “Lady Nevil.” Though suspicious about this letter, he answered it, and a rendezvous was arranged at the opera. That day he called on Madame de Castries, and she had him remain for dinner. When he excused himself to go to the opera, she insisted on accompanying him; he then realized that he was a victim of her strategy, which he thus describes:
“I go to the opera. No one there. Then I write a letter, which brings the miss, old, horrible, with hideous teeth, but full of remorse for the part she had played, full of affection for me and contempt and horror for the Marquise. Though my letters were extremely ironical and written for the purpose of making a woman masquerading as a false lady blush, she (Miss Patrickson) had recovered them. I had the upper hand of Madame de C — — She ended by divining that in this intrigue she was on the down side. From that time forth she vowed me a hatred which will end only with life. In fact, she may rise out of her grave to calumniate me. She never opened Seraphita on account of its dedication, and her jealousy is such that if she could completely destroy the book she would weep for joy.”[*]
[*] Seized with pity for this poor Irish woman, Balzac called later to see about some translations and found her overcome by drink in the midst of poverty and dirt. He learned afterwards that she was addicted to the habit of drinking gin.
Notwithstanding their enmity Balzac visited her occasionally. She had become so uncomely that he could not understand his infatuation at Aix, ten years before. He disliked her especially because she had for the moment, in posing as Madame de Balzac, made Madame Hanska believe he was married. He enjoyed telling her of Madame Hanska’s admiration for and devotion to him, and sarcastically remarked to her that she was such a “true friend” she would be happy to learn of his financial success. Thus, during a period of several years, while speaking of her as his enemy, the novelist continued to dine with her, but was ever ready to overwhelm her with sarcasm, even while her guest. Yet, in 1843, he dedicated to her L’Illustre Gaudissart, a work written ten years before.
Though he was fully recovered with time, this drama, played by a coquette, was almost tragic for the author of the Comedie humaine. No other woman left so deep a mark of passion or such rankling wounds in his bleeding heart, as did she of whom he says:
“It has required five years of wounds for my tender nature to detach itself from one of iron. A gracious woman, this Duchess of whom I spoke to you, and one who had come to me under an incognito, which, I render her this justice, she laid aside the day I asked her to. . . . This liaison which, whatever may be said, be assured has remained by the will of the woman in the most reproachable conditions, has been one of the great sorrows of my life. The secret misfortunes of my situation actually come from the fact that I sacrificed everything to her, for a single one of her desires; she never divined anything. A wounded man must be pardoned for fearing injuries. . . . I alone know what there is of horror in the Duchesse de Langeais.”
In
1831 Balzac asked for the hand of a young lady of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, Mademoiselle Eleonore de Trumilly, second daughter of his friend the Baron de Trumilly, Lieutenant-Colonel of the Artillery of the Royal guard under the Restoration, a former emigre, and of Madame Alexandra-Anna de Montiers. This request was received by her father, who transmitted it to her, but she rejected the suitor and married June 18, 1833, Francois-Felix-Claude-Marie-Marguerite Labroue, Baron de Vareilles-Sommieres, of the diocese of Poitiers.
The Baron de Trumilly (died April 7, 1832) held high rank among the officers of the artillery, and his cultured mind rendered him one of the ornaments of society. He lived in friendly and intellectual relations with Balzac while the future novelist was working on the Chouans and the Physiologie du Mariage, and at the time Balzac was revising the latter for publication, he went to dine frequently at the home of the Baron, who used to work with him until late in the evening. In this work he introduces an old emigre under the initials of Marquis de T — — which are quite similar to those of the Baron de Trumilly. This Marquis de T — — went to Germany about 1791, which corresponds to the life of the Baron.
Baron de Trumilly welcomed Balzac into his home, took a great interest in his work, and seemed willing to give him one of his three daughters; but one can understand how the young novelist, who had not yet attained great fame, might not favorably impress a young lady of the social standing of Mademoiselle de Trumilly, and her father did not urge her to accept him.
Although Balzac wrote Madame Hanska that when he called the girl loved by Dr. Benassis in his “Confession” (Le Medecin de Campagne) “Evelina,” he said to himself, “She will quiver with joy in seeing that her name has occupied me, that she was present to my memory, and that what I deemed loveliest and noblest in the young girl, I have named for her,” some think that the lady he had in mind was not Mme. Hanska, but Eleonore de Trumilly, who really was a young unmarried girl, while Madame Hanska was not only married, but the mother of several children. Again, letters written by the author to his family show his condition to have been desperate at that time. Balzac asserts that the story of Louis Lambert is true to life; hence, despondent over his own situation, he makes Louis Lambert become insane, and causes Dr. Benassis to think of suicide when disappointed in love.
Works of Honore De Balzac Page 1543
