M. DE BRÉVANNES
A few words are now necessary with respect to M. de Brévannes, an
important actor in this history.
M. de Brévannes' father was named Joseph Burdin: born at Lyons, he had
come to seek his fortune at Paris under the Directory. By his
management, perseverance, and fitness for business, he had, in a few
years, realised, by contracts for the supply of the forces, one of those
notorious fortunes so common at this period.
Become rich, the name of Burdin appeared vulgar to him, and he bought
the estate of _Brévannes_, in Lorraine, called himself for some time
Burdin de Brévannes, then sinking the Burdin, became Brévannes only.
His wife, the daughter of a wealthy notary, who had ruined himself by
hazardous speculations, died a short time before the Restoration (1815).
M. de Brévannes did not long survive her, and the guardianship of his
son, Charles de Brévannes, was intrusted to one of his old associates.
Either from negligence or want of principle, this man did not manage his
ward's interests faithfully; so that when the young man came of age, in
1825, he only inherited about 40,000 livres (1600 _l._) a-year.
M. de Brévannes, renewing his acquaintance with several of his college
friends whom he met again in society, passed during several years a gay
bachelor's life, without, however, running into any excess of
extravagance--he was too selfish and calculating for that.
About the end of the year 1831 he married Bertha Raimond.
To explain this marriage it is necessary to sketch the character of M.
de Brévannes. Badly brought up, and having received but the barren
education of his college, nothing had softened or abated the innate
violence of his temper; the main, leading, and integral characteristic
of which was a remarkable degree of energy and _hauteur_, united to an
invincible obstinacy of purpose.
To achieve his end, M. de Brévannes did not hesitate at any sacrifice,
any excess, any obstacle.
What he desired, he sought to possess as much to satisfy his taste and
caprice of the moment, as to satisfy the sort of tenacious pride which
he had in succeeding, by good means or bad--at any cost, any risk--in
every thing which he undertook.
M. de Brévannes pushed his economy to the bounds of avarice, his
personal ease to selfishness, and his want of sympathy amounted to
decided harshness. If he determined to surmount any obstacle, he became
devoted, generous, delicate, if it served his purpose; but his aim once
attained, these ephemeral and assumed qualities disappeared with the
cause which had elicited them; and then his real character resumed its
usual tone and course, and his evil inclinations found their
compensation for a temporary restraint in increased violence.
Unfortunately, persons of this strong and deeply marked stamp too often
prove that with them (as M. de Brévannes had said--to _will_ is to be
able to do) _vouloir c'est pouvoir._
We will now add a word or two as to his marriage.
M. de Brévannes occupied the first floor of a house in Paris, which was
his own property. Two new lodgers came to live in two small apartments
on the fourth story,--they were Bertha Raimond and her father; the
mother had been dead for a considerable period.
Pierre Raimond, a copper-plate engraver by profession, had so weakened
his eyesight that he could at this period engrave nothing but music.
Bertha, who was an admirable musician, gave lessons on the piano; and,
thanks to these resources, the father and daughter lived almost in easy
circumstances.
Bertha was remarkably handsome, and M. de Brévannes, who frequently met
her in the house, was so much attracted by her, that, in his capacity of
_landlord_, he introduced himself to Pierre Raimond.
Brévannes had a detestable idea of human kind, and he confidently
trusted, by the use of cajolery, and some presents liberally and
propitiously made, to triumph over the virtue of Bertha and the scruples
of Pierre Raimond. He was deceived: and, paying the quarter's rent for
his humble apartments, the engraver gave notice to quit to M. de
Brévannes at the end of the ensuing three months, requesting him, at
the same time, in very plain terms, to cease his calls, which had been
but very few, however, up to that period.
M. de Brévannes was piqued at his failure; this unexpected resistance
irritated his desires and wounded his pride, and his caprice became
love, or, at least, had all its ardour and impatience.
Having contrived to obtain certain short conversations with Mademoiselle
Raimond, either by following her into the streets when she left her home
to give lessons, or meeting her at the residence of one of her pupils,
M. de Brévannes contrived to maintain a correspondence with Bertha, who
soon became much attached to him. He was young, witty, and had a good
address--a face, if not handsome, yet manly and expressive. Bertha did
not resist these attractions, but her love was as pure as her
imagination, and M. de Brévannes' evil hopes were utterly frustrated.
Confessing to him, unaffectedly, that she was not ashamed to disclose
her love for him, Bertha added that he was too rich to marry her, and
that, therefore, the communication between them must cease--vain as it
was for him, and distressing for her.
The end of the quarter came, and Bertha and her father went to reside in
one of the most lonely quarters of Paris, in the Rue Poultier, Ile Saint
Louis.
This removal gave a fresh wound to the pride and feeling of M. de
Brévannes. He discovered the abode of the young girl, pretended a long
journey, and went secretly and took a lodging in the Ile Saint Louis,
near the street in which Pierre Raimond resided.
The first time Bertha again met M. de Brévannes, she betrayed, by her
emotion, the intensity of her sentiments towards him; concealing nothing
from him,--neither the joy which his return occasioned to her, nor the
cruel tears--yet dear as they were cruel--which she had shed during his
absence.
In spite of these avowals M. de Brévannes was not the more happy.
Seductive persuasion, stratagems, promises, excitement, despair--all,
all failed before the virtue of Bertha--virtue as pure and strong as her
love itself.
Those who know the heart of man, and especially of men as proud and
self-willed as M. de Brévannes, will understand the bitter resentment
which sprung up in his mind against this young girl, as inflexible in
her purity, as he in his corruption.
A man never pardons a woman who escapes by her address, instinct, or
virtue, from the dishonouring snare which he has spread for her.
It would be impossible to describe the _mental_ imprecations with which
M. de Brévannes overwhelmed Bertha; and to such a pitch did he attain,
that he actually believed that "by her calculating refusals, this chit
of a girl had the impertinent hope that he--he would one day marry
her,"--a most abominable machination, and, no doubt, planned with the
old engraver.
M. de Brévannes shrugged his shoulders in pity when he reflected on a
manœuvre as odious as it was ridiculous, and resolved to quit Paris.
Before he went he had a final interview with Bertha. He fully expected
a despairing scene; he found the young girl sad, calm, resigned. She had
never given way to any illusion as to her love for M. de Brévannes, but
had always anticipated the painful consequences of her ill-omened
attachment.
It was, besides, singular that Pierre Raimond, a worthy
artist,--austere, and even stoical, in his ideas of right and
wrong,--should have educated his daughter in such ideas of wealth that
the disproportion of fortune existing between M. de Brévannes and
Bertha should seem to her as insurmountable as the distance which
separates a king from a daughter of one of the lowest class in society.
Thus far from asking why he, being free, did not make her his wife--a
simple and decided mode of reconciling love and duty--Bertha had
ingenuously confessed to M. de Brévannes that their love was the more
hopeless as Pierre Raimond, in his proud poverty, would never consent to
marry his daughter to a rich man.
At the moment of her separation from M. de Brévannes, Bertha promised
him to do all she could to forget him, in order to marry a man as poor
as herself, and if not, she would never marry.
These words, free from any exaggeration, as simple and true as the poor
girl that uttered them, made no impression on De Brévannes; who but saw
in the angelic resignation of Bertha a flagrant and final proof of the
plot that was laid for him in order to entrap him into a compulsory
marriage.
M. de Brévannes set out for Dieppe, believing that he was completely
freed from this love affair; and, proud of having escaped from a
shameful snare, he awaited with irritating impatience for a humble
prayer to return--which he had decided on receiving and treating with
extreme contempt; but, to his vast surprise, he did not even hear from
Bertha.
At Dieppe, M. de Brévannes met with a Madame Beauvoisis (the domino of
the chest)--very pretty, very much the fashion in a certain circle, very
coquettish, and who had made a very deep impression on a most agreeable
and gentlemanly person.
To revenge himself on Bertha's silence, and certain compunctious
prickings of conscience, as well as to elevate himself in his own eyes,
after the check which the engraver's daughter had given him, M. de
Brévannes determined to play the agreeable with Madame de Beauvoisis,
and supplant her favoured lover. He succeeded.
M. de Brévannes was the more annoyed, the more humiliated for his want
of success with Bertha, in proportion as the _conquest_ of Madame
Beauvoisis seemed more flattering to him. His self-love revolted at the
fact of a poor little unknown girl having been able to resist the
advances of a man whom a most desirable woman had selected.
We are not pretending that M. de Brévannes had no love for Bertha, but
with him the tender impatiences, the "charming agonies" of love--its
hopes and melancholy fears--were perverted into strong desires and
irritated pride.
He summed up the matter in his mind bitterly and brutally thus:--
"I am determined this girl shall be mine--cost it what it may, mine she
shall be!"
Enraged at not receiving any letters from Bertha during the six weeks he
had been away, M. de Brévannes suddenly broke off with Madame
Beauvoisis, the idol of the season at Dieppe, and returned to his
hiding-place in the Ile Saint Louis. When he arrived there, Bertha,
unable to overcome her grief, was dying.
Almost touched at this proof of love, and wishing, moreover, at any
cost, to have possession of this young girl, M. de Brévannes, in spite
of his resolutions never to be duped into a marriage, as he declared,
went to Pierre Raimond and demanded his daughter's hand formally in
marriage, anticipating an exuberant outpouring of gratitude on the part
of the old engraver.
Incredible--unheard of--strange as it may appear (and it completely
upset all M. de Brévannes' ideas), Pierre Raimond would not give his
consent to this union.
[Illustration 04: "'M. de Brévannes was born rich, Bertha
was born poor--there was no sympathy existing between them;'
this was Pierre Raimond's unchanging theme."]
"M. de Brévannes was born rich, Bertha was born poor: there was no
sympathy existing between them, no similarity of position, or habits of
life, education, and principles, which could offer or ensure any
guarantee of happiness for the future."
This was Pierre Raimond's "unchanging theme."
There was, in the absolute manner with which this stern old man regarded
the distance which separates the rich from the poor, more pride than
humility. He established between these two conditions, which he regarded
as utterly irreconcilable and diverse, a line as entire and
unsurpassable as that which republicans draw between themselves and
aristocrats.
The determined obstinacy of M. de Brévannes would have failed before
the haughty poverty of the old man, had not Bertha's life been
compromised.
A father's instinct is almost always admirably clear-sighted, and when
this instinct is allied with excellent common sense, it attains to
divination.
Pierre Raimond anticipated his daughter's destiny. Still obliged to
choose between the death of a beloved child, and a future, however
dreaded, which might, perchance, be averted, the engraver consented at
length to the marriage, which took place shortly after M. de Brévannes'
return.
Bertha had not for a moment doubted the love of her husband.
Her heart--simple and good, noble and confiding--was unable to resist
the unrelenting will of a man, whose energetic protestations had
flattered and won her; and in her guileless vanity, the young girl asked
herself, with a certain degree of pride, if M. de Brévannes must not
have loved her to excess, when he pursued his suit with such unrelaxing
tenacity.
Poor Bertha, alas! confounded the proud obstinacy of an uncontrollable
temper, which could not endure opposition, with the self-denial, the
devoted persistence, of intense passion.
M. de Brévannes was capable of employing every means--even those which
had not apparently an honourable plea--to achieve his ends; but that
attained, he was also capable of cruelly revenging those sacrifices
which he had imposed on himself in order to triumph in a struggle in
which his pride was more deeply interested than his love.
With such an intractable temper, the day that followed his victory was
seldom one of happiness; the ruder the attack, the more the resistance
had lasted, the more his vanity suffered. In the warmth of action he
forgot the wounds of his self-love; but after success he felt intensely
those bleeding wounds, and his disposition again resumed its ascendancy.
When the fever of his unbridled will, which had constrained M. de
Brévannes to marry Bertha, had subsided, he began to regret his
marriage very deeply. Yes, he was ashamed of his alliance with an
obscure and poor girl, when he reflected on the wealthy alliances to
which he might have aspired, and for which the charming qualities, the
beauty, and pure mind of Bertha, were hardly a recompense. He believed
that he was continually the butt of sarcastic comment, and could not
find sufficient raillery to vindicate his ridiculous marriage of
affection.
M. de Brévannes was deceived. Several persons, when they saw him marry
a lovely, virtuous, and poor girl, gave him credit for a generous and
noble spirit, and admired him, and vaunted his singular
disinterestedness, and he was absolved, by anticipation, from all the
torments which he would inflict on a woman for whom he had _done so
much_.
Some regarded Bertha's conduct as a master-piece of trick and skill;
others jeered at M. de Brévannes and his love-match, because they were
of a class that mocks at all the world.
No one suspected the real motive of this marriage, and that M. de
Brévannes' obstinacy had urged him to it, at least as much as his love.
One last trait of M. de Brévannes' disposition.
For the four years he had been married, Bertha, more loving, more
resigned than ever, had not given him the slightest cause of complaint,
although he had openly committed frequent infidelities, and sometimes
given her rivals of very low degree; the wretched woman had wept her
tears of bitterness in secret, but never made any complaint.
In spite of this patience--in spite of her perfect gentleness, M. de
Brévannes sometimes gave himself up to inconceivable suspicions and
jealousy, and under the most frivolous pretexts.
This violent jealousy was by no means a proof of De Brévannes' love. If
he went into a rage at the mere thought (utterly false and unjust) that
his wife might be faithless to him, it was because Bertha's fault would
have covered (as he thought), with unextinguishable ridicule, this
_love-match_, for which he had sacrificed so much. M. de Brévannes
desired, at least, to be able to vaunt the irreproachable and exemplary
conduct of the fair and obscure woman whom he had chosen.
After they had been eighteen months wedded, M. de Brévannes, becoming
very tired of his happiness, had travelled in Italy for several months,
leaving his wife under the care of Pierre Raimond, whose austere
morality he fully recognised.
The old engraver would not consent to live with his daughter in M. de
Brévannes' house during her husband's absence, and Bertha had,
therefore, taken up her abode with her father in the Ile Saint Louis,
and resumed, in the Rue Poultier, the room she occupied before she was
married.
Since his journey to Italy, where he had formed Madame de Hansfeld's
acquaintance (as we shall see hereafter), M. de Brévannes' temper had
become much soured, and his disposition had grown sombre, irascible, and
was often brutal; and Bertha had very frequently suffered acutely from
it. These points enumerated, we will now follow M. de Brévannes to his
residence after his return from the Opera-ball, where he had been so
completely mystified by Madame Beauvoisis, the domino of the chest.