[Footnote 1: To Madame Hanska, at Naples.]
Dear countess, the person who will take to you this letter is a friend
of mine, M. Schnetz, the painter of the beautiful picture of the
"Madonna's Vow," which is in Saint-Roch. He is the Director of the
French School of Art in Rome, and I profit by his kindness to send you
news from me to meet you on your arrival in Rome.
As M. Nacquart prophesied, my courage has been rewarded; to-day I can
walk [he had been thrown from a carriage], and all my preparations for
my journey are made. My place is booked in the mail-cart for Lyon; for
the Marseille's post service carries so many letters that letters in my
person are turned out of the mail-cart by the other kind.
I must wear my bandages for another month; but nothing prevents me
from seeing Rome with you, or rather you with Rome. Oh! it was God who
led you to Naples, you and yours, more than you think perhaps. Now,
the wisest thing you can do is to stay in Rome, and not continue your
projected journey until you have received good news from the Ukraine;
for they say that those provinces are in a state of disquieting
fermentation; I even hear talk of a general insurrection. Eleven
hundred seigneurs and land-owners in Galicia have been murdered by
their peasantry, whom they were endeavouring to draw into rebellion
against their sovereign, the Emperor of Austria. The Austrians are
to-day in retreat (you will see that in the "Débats"). The revolt,
or the insurrection, has been simultaneous throughout the former
Poland--Prussian, Austrian, and Russian; the movement is communistic.
I tremble for your cousin L.... The insurgents, they tell me, are
occupying Piotrkov. This is really frightful; no quarter is given on
either side; priests, women, children, old men, all are in arms. Bands
of ten thousand starving Poles have thrown themselves from Russian
Poland into Prussia (where the famine began), and the Prussians are
thrusting them back, as if infected with the plague, by a cordon of
troops. Every one here foresees nothing but evil for that unfortunate
nation; but the surprise is that Galicia, which seemed to be so well
governed, so happy even, under the Austrian sceptre, should have
revolted in this untimely manner. Chlopiçki, whom they wished to put
at the head of the movement, refused. He has retired into Prussia,
saying that he would blow his brains out sooner than command such a
folly. All sensible people groan over it. They say that Lithuania
and the provinces in the west of Russia will rise also, on account
of the recruiting for the Caucasus. What disasters for the future of
Europe must we not fear, with these populations at a pitch of chronic
insanity! And the governments, which admit that they are already
exhausted, will they be able to repress and control them?
How fortunate that you are in Rome! for even you, so wise and so
intelligent, have jealous and malevolent people about you over there.
Besides, no one knows what might happen if you were caught between the
insurgents and the troops. The "Gazette de Cologne" has published,
under Prussian censure, an article which speaks of the blindness of
the governments in the matter of Poland, and dwells on the fact that
nationalities cannot perish. (Don't speak of this to any one.) I hope
nothing unfortunate will happen to Countess Mniszech; but Georges must
be very uneasy about his mother, for the whole of Galicia is expected
to rise. They say that Hungary, hitherto so faithful, is also in arms.
You can form no idea of my happiness ever since my place was booked in
the Lyon mail. I am now making all my arrangements.
I have given Lirette the money you gave me for her. I went to the
convent myself, though still ill. Here's a strange thing! She has been
requested by Abbé L... to send to Petersburg an affidavit declaring
that neither he, the abbé, nor you had endeavoured to dissuade her
from entering a convent, and affirming that she did not possess forty
roubles and consequently had never given that sum to the convent. What
does all that mean? I hope they will permit her to write, and that I
shall bring you a long letter from her.
Take care of yourself, and do not forget to let me know where you
are in Rome, addressing your letter to "M. Lysimaque, at the French
Consulate, Civita-Vecchia, for M. de Balzac;" and try to find me a
niche not far from you, if it is only a kennel. I hope my preceding
letter has reached you through the Rothschilds.
What do you think of M. de Custine, who offered me a letter of
introduction to Prince George (Michel Angelo)? He did not remember the
prince's relationship to you! I take such part in your interests and
those of your dear child that I tremble every morning as I open the
newspapers. _Mon Dieu!_ what anxiety when I think of the state in which
your affairs are! You must not think of returning there till all is
quiet once more.