name, that he too was forced to depart. With great difficulty could he
invent a pretext for remaining three days after his brothers left. These
three days will not expire until to-morrow, and yet he leaves me to-day;
he must go, and can no longer delay. The king has sent an express for
him, with an order to return as soon as possible. He will leave in one
half hour, and I do not know when we can meet again. Ah! how soon
happiness passes away!...
Sunday, _June 7th._
It is now two weeks since the prince royal left me; he has sent two
expresses, and slipped two notes for me under cover to the prince
palatine. But what is a letter?... An unfinished thought--it soothes for
a moment, but cannot calm. A letter can never replace even a few seconds
of personal intercourse; he has left me his portrait; I am sure every
one would think it like him; but for me, it is merely a shred of
inanimate canvas. It has his features, but it is not he, and has not his
expression.... I have him much better in my memory.
All consolation is denied me, for I will not reply to his letters; this
restraint I have imposed upon myself; I am sure that my hand would
become motionless as the cold marble were I to write to the man I love
without the knowledge of my aunt, my elder sister, and my parents. I
told the prince royal that he could never have a letter from me until I
was his wife. This is a great sacrifice, but I have promised my God that
I will accomplish it.
Since his departure, time weighs upon me as a continued torture. During
the first few days I wandered about as if bereft of reason; I could not
fix my thoughts, or apply myself to any occupation. The illness of the
princess has restored some energy to my soul. The injury to her foot,
which she at first neglected, has become very serious; during three days
she had a burning fever, which threatened her life. My anguish was
beyond description; I am sure I could not have been more uneasy had it
been my sister or one of my parents. I scarcely thought of the prince
royal during the whole of those three days; and what is most strange, I
no longer regretted his absence; if he had been here, I could not have
devoted myself so entirely to the princess. The idea of her death was
terrible to me, for, notwithstanding all the arguments of the prince
royal and of the Princes Lubomirski, I feel myself very culpable in
having withheld my confidence from her; if she suspects the truth, she
has every reason to accuse me of perfidy.... There is in this world but
one inconsolable evil, and that is the torture of a bad
conscience--remorse....
I hoped one day to be able to repair my wrongs toward the princess, to
fall at her feet and confess my fault, but when I saw her in danger, I
felt as if hell itself were menacing me, and as if I must be forever
crushed under the weight of an eternal remorse.... Another thought too
has distressed me to the very bottom of my soul! My parents are advanced
in years; if I should lose them before I have confessed my secret to
them! It is written above that I am to know every sorrow! Heaven has
cruelly tried me, but to-day a ray of pity seems to have fallen upon my
miserable fate. The princess is steadily improving, and I have received
good news from Maleszow; I breathe again.
Were the king to give his consent to our marriage, I could not be
happier than I was on hearing from the physician's own mouth that the
princess was out of danger.... I will then be able to open my heart to
her! Ah! my God! if this painful dissimulation weighs so heavily upon
me, what must be the state of the prince royal, who is deceiving his
father, his king, and offending him by a misplaced affection!
Why did not these reflections present themselves to me before? Why did I
not show him the abyss into which we were about to fall?... My happiness
then blinded me, and now I can fancy no condition which I would not
prefer to my own.... I feel humiliated by my imprudence. Did I not, with
the whole strength of my wishes and desires draw upon me this very love
so dear to my heart and so fatal to my repose? My pride has lost me; and
that pride is an implacable enemy, which I have no longer strength to
subdue. Oh! I must indeed blame our little Matthias! It was he who first
awoke such ambitious dreams within my soul.
Happy Barbara! If I only, like her, loved a man of rank equal to my own!
But no, I am not of good faith with myself: the prince royal's position
dazzled me. Ah! how merciful is heaven to cover our innermost thoughts
with an impenetrable veil! Alas! God pardons the defects in our frail
humanity sooner than we ourselves can!
I left the princess half an hour ago, and must now return to her; she
loves so to have me with her! And indeed, no one can wait upon her as
well as myself. I feel happy when sitting at her bedside; I regain
courage when I think that I am useful to her, and I feel a kind of joy
in finding that my heart is not occupied by one sentiment to the
exclusion of all others.
CASTLE OF OPOLE, Thursday, _June 18th._
The princess has entirely recovered, and we have been three days at
Opole. I was sorry to leave Janowiec, for all around me bore the impress
of his presence. In his last letter, he announces a very sad piece of
news: he is forced to pass two months in his duchy of Courland. He will
endeavor to see me before he goes; but will he succeed? Two months! how
many centuries, when one must wait!
We have had several visitors from Warsaw; among others, Adam Krasinski,
Bishop of Kamieniec; he is in every way estimable, and universally
esteemed! All speak of the change in the prince royal: he is pale and
sad, and flies the world. The king himself is uneasy concerning his son,
and it is I who am the cause of all this woe. Is love then a
never-ending source of sorrow? He suffers for me, and his suffering is
my most cruel torment.... They say too that I am changed, and believe me
ill: the good princess attributes my pallor to the nights I have watched
by her side. Her manifestations of interest pierce my heart! When shall
I be at peace with my conscience?
Saturday, _July 11th._
Like a flash of lightning has a single ray of happiness shone out and
then disappeared. He came here to see me, but could remain only two
hours. Last Wednesday he left Warsaw, as if he were going to Courland,
but, sending his carriages before him on the way to the north, he turned
aside and hastened here. His court awaited him at Bialystok, and he was
forced to travel night and day to avoid suspicion. I saw him for so
short a time that those few happy moments seem only a dream. He was
obliged to assume his huntsman's dress in order to gain admittance
unknown into the castle.
No one penetrated his disguise, and no one except the prince palatine
was cognizant of our interview. He spoke to me, he gave me repeated
assurances of his love, and restored to me my dearest hopes; had he not
done so, I feel I should have died before the expiration of the three
months. Three months is the very least that he can remain at Mittau. How
many days, how many hours, how many minutes in those three months! I
could be more resigned were I alone to suffer; but he is so unhappy at
our separation!
Thursday, _September 3d._
I have neglected my journal during nearly two months. Good and evil, all
passes in this world. My days have been sad and monotonous, but they are
gone, and their flight brings me nearer to my happiness. The prince
royal assures me in all his letters that he will return in October. I
was crazy with joy to-day when I found the leaves were falling: I am
charmed with this foretaste of autumn. We will leave for Warsaw in a
very few days.
A new incident has lately come to pass: a very brilliant match has been
offered for me, and the princess, who loves me twice as well since I
nursed her through her illness, after having concerted the marriage with
my parents and the Bishop of Kamieniec, hoped to win my consent. I was
forced to bear her anger and reproaches, and worse than all that, the
bitter allusions which she made to the prince royal....
To satisfy my parents, I was obliged to humiliate myself, and write a
letter of excuse; my mother deigned to send me a reply filled with
sorrow, but without anger. She ends her letter by saying: 'Parents who
send their children away from them, must expect to find them rebellious
to their will.'
My poor mother! She still gives me her sacred blessing, and assures me
of my father's forgiveness! Ah! I purchase very dearly my future
happiness and greatness!
WARSAW, Tuesday, _September 22d._
We returned to Warsaw several days ago. Ah! with what joy did I find
myself once more here; how beautiful this city is! Here I will often see
the prince royal. He assures me in his last letter that he will return
by the first of October; I have then only one week to wait; without this
hope I should no longer have any desire to live. Nothing now gives me
any pleasure. Dress tires and annoys me, visits and assemblies weary me
to death; every person whom I meet seems to me a scrutinizing judge; I
fancy that all are pitying or blaming me. Especially do I fear the women
of my acquaintance; they are not indulgent, because they are never
disinterested; they are no better pleased with another woman's good
fortune than they are with her beauty and agreeability....
Even yesterday, with what cruelty Madame ----, but I will not write her
name--questioned me! She enjoyed my confusion; I was almost ready to
weep, and she was delighted. In the presence of fifty persons, she
revenged herself for what is called _my triumph_, but what I consider
the most _sacred happiness_. Ah! how deeply she wounded me! I almost
hate her.... This feeling alone was wanting to complete the torment of
my soul. The prince palatine took pity on me, and came to my aid; may
God reward him! In every difficult crisis he is always near with his
active and powerful friendship. He would be quite perfect, if he only
understood me a little better; but when I weep and show my sorrow, he
laughs and calls me a child.... I cannot tell him everything.
Thursday, _October 1st._
He has come, and I have seen him; he is quite well, and yet I am not
happy. I saw him amid a crowd of indifferent people; and when my
feelings impelled me to run and meet him in the palace court, I was
forced to remain by my work table and wait until he came into the
saloon, when he of course first saluted the princess, and my only
consolation consisted in being able to make him a formal and icy
reverence. But he is come, and all must now go well.
_October 12th._
Great God! how sweet are the words to which I have just given utterance!
Happy, a thousand times happy, is the woman who can promise with all her
heart to give her hand during her whole life to him whom she loves! The
fourth of November is the prince's birthday. He desires, he demands,
that this may be the day of our holy union! He made me swear by my God,
and by my parents, that I would no longer oppose his wishes; he said he
would doubt my affection if I still hesitated. His tears and prayers
overcame me; encouraged by the advice of the prince palatine, I promised
all he desired, and already do I repent my weakness. But he--he was
happy when he left me....
He wished our marriage to be kept secret from my parents, as it must be
during some time from the rest of the world; he desired that the Princes
Lubomirski should be our only witnesses and our only confidants; but I
opposed this project with all my strength; I even threatened him with
becoming a nun rather than play so guilty a part toward my parents. He
finally yielded: he is so kind to me. It was then decided that I should
write to my parents, and that he would add a postscript to my letter.
At first I felt grateful to him for his submission; but with a little
more reflection I felt offended. Is it not he who should write to my
parents? Is it not thus that such affairs are conducted? Alas, yes; but
only when one weds an equal! It is a prince, a prince of the blood royal
who _deigns_ to unite himself to me! He then does me a favor in wedding
me.... This thought has become so bitter that I was on the point of
retracting; but it is too late, for I have given my word.
I must now write to my parents; I must confess to them the love which I
have so long kept a secret from them. Ah! how wicked they will think me!
I have been wanting in confidence toward the best of mothers.... My God!
inspire me; give me courage! A criminal dragged before his judges could
not tremble more than I do!
Thursday, _October 22d._
The prince palatine's confidential chamberlain has already left for
Maleszow. I am very well satisfied with my letter; but the prince royal
finds fault with it, and says it is too humble; I, in my turn, found his
postscript altogether too royal. I was about to tell him so, when the
prince palatine stopped me.
What will my parents say? Perhaps they will refuse their consent, and,
strange as it may appear, during the last few days, the sense of my own
dignity has been stronger than my vanity or my desire for greatness.
This event seems to me quite ordinary: it is true he is the prince
royal, Duke of Courland, and will perhaps one day be King of Poland, but
if he has not my father's consent, it is he who is not my equal.
If no opposition is made to my marriage, I ardently desire that it may
be the parish priest of Maleszow who will give us the nuptial
benediction; the prince palatine has promised me to do all he can; at
least, he will be the representative of my parents, and will confer a
small degree of propriety upon the ceremony. Barbara's destiny is ever
in my thoughts! I deemed her wishes very modest when she said to me:
'Strive to be as happy as I am!' Alas! her happiness is immense, when I
compare it with mine!...
Wednesday, _October 28th._
My parents' answer has arrived; they give us their blessing and wish me
much happiness; but the tenderness they express toward me is not like
that obtained and merited by Barbara. This is just; I suffer, but have
no right to complain. The prince royal expected to receive an especial
letter addressed to himself; but my parents have not written to him. He
is piqued, and conversed a long time with the prince palatine on the
pride of certain Polish nobles.
I feel more tranquil since my parents know our secret; my heart is
relieved from a most cruel torment. My parents promise not to reveal our
marriage without the prince royal's consent; one may see in their letter
both joy and surprise; but there is a tone of sadness in my mother's
expressions which touches me deeply. She says:
'If you are unhappy, I will not be responsible for it; if you are happy
(and I shall never cease to beg this blessing of God in my prayers), I
will rejoice, but at the same time regret that I had no part in
contributing to your felicity'....
These words are almost illegible, for I have nearly effaced them with my
tears.
The curate from Maleszow will arrive next week, and we will be married
immediately after. The prince palatine has had the necessary papers
prepared, and no one has any suspicion. I can scarcely believe that my
marriage is so near.... No preparations will be made for me; all must be
conducted with the greatest secrecy. When Barbara married, she had no
reason to hide herself; all Maleszow was in commotion on her account.
If I could only see the prince royal, I should feel consoled. But
sometimes two whole days pass by without any possibility of meeting him.
He is afraid of exciting the king's suspicions, and still more, those of
Bruhl; he avoids me at all public assemblies, and comes less frequently
to the prince palatine's. To all these painful necessities of my
position must I submit.
Yesterday evening, at Madame Moszynska's _soirée_, I accidentally
overheard a conversation which pained me deeply. A gentleman whom I did
not know, said to his neighbor: 'But the Starostine Krasinska is
terribly changed!' The answer was: 'That is not at all astonishing, for
the poor young girl is madly in love with the prince royal, and he is
somewhat capricious; when he sees a pretty woman, he falls in love with
her immediately, and now he is all devotion to Madame Potocka, and has
eyes for no one but her.'
I am sure the prince pretends to be occupied with other women that he
may the more readily conceal his real feelings, and yet I shuddered when
I heard this conversation. It is really frightful to be the subject of
such improper pleasantries!
If I only had a friend in whom I could confide, and whose advice I could
ask! My maid is as stupid as an owl, and suspects nothing, but
notwithstanding, she is to be sent to the interior of Lithuania, and in
a few days her place will be supplied by a middle-aged married lady of
good birth and acknowledged discretion. I have not seen her yet, and I
have no one to consult with regard to my wedding toilette. For want of a
better adviser, I consulted the prince palatine, and he replied: 'Dress
as you do every day.'
What a strange destiny! I am making the most brilliant marriage in the
whole kingdom, and yet my shoemaker's daughter will have a trousseau and
wedding festivities which I am forced to envy.
WARSAW, Wednesday, _November 4th, 1760._
My destiny is accomplished, and I am the prince royal's wife! We have
sworn before God eternal love and fidelity; he is mine, irrevocably
mine! Ah! how sweet, and yet how cruel was that moment! They were forced
to hurry the ceremony, as we feared discovery.
I saw nothing of the prince royal during the week preceding my marriage;
he feigned sickness, and did not leave his room; he has refused to-day
invitations to dinner at the prince primates, the ambassadors, and even
one to the ball given by the grand general of the crown: his supposed
illness was the pretext on which he freed himself from these
obligations.
My former waiting woman was sent away day before yesterday, and
yesterday came the new one, who has sworn upon the crucifix to be silent
upon all she may see and hear.
At five o'clock this morning, the prince palatine knocked at my door; I
had been dressed for at least two hours. We departed as noiselessly as
possible, the prince royal and Prince Martin Lubomirski met us at the
palace gate.... The night was dark, the wind blew, and the cold was
intense. We went on foot to the Carmelite church, because it is the
nearest: our good priest already stood before the altar. If the prince
royal had not supported me, I should have fallen many times during the
passage.
And how sad and melancholy was all within the church! On all sides the
silence and darkness of the grave! Two wax tapers burned upon the altar,
casting a dim and uncertain light, while the sound of our own steps was
the only sign of life heard within the solemn and sombre vault of the
temple. The ceremony did not last ten minutes, the curate made all
possible haste, and we fled the church as if we had committed some
crime. The prince royal returned with us: Prince Martin wished him to go
at once to the palace, but he would not leave me, and with great
difficulty did he at length part from me.
My dress was such as I wear every day. I had only dared to place one
little branch of rosemary in my hair.... While I was dressing, I thought
of Barbara's wedding, and could not refrain from weeping.... It was not
my mother who prepared the ducat, the morsel of bread, the salt, and the
sugar, which the betrothed should bear with her on her wedding day; and
so, at the last moment, I forgot them.
I am now alone in my chamber; not a single friendly eye will say to me:
'Be happy!' My parents have not blessed me.... Profound silence reigns
in every direction, all are yet asleep, and this light burns as if near
a corpse.... Ah! my God! what a mournful festival! Were it not for this
feverish agitation and this wedding ring, which I must soon take off and
hide from every eye, I should believe all these events to be merely a
dream.... But no, I am his, and God has received our vows.
SULGOSTOW, Monday, _December 24th._
I thought when I married that I would no longer have any occasion to
write in my journal: I believed that a friend, another me, would be the
depositary of all my thoughts. I said to myself: 'Why should I write,
when I will tell all to the prince royal (it seems to me as if I could
call him thus during my whole life)? He does not know enough Polish to
read my diary, and consequently it is useless.' But everything separates
me from my well-beloved husband; I will continue to write that I may be
more closely bound to him, that I may preserve all the remembrances
which come to me from him.... I am pursued by a pitiless fate! Ah! what
despair is at my heart!... When shall I see him again?
These last few days have been fearful! I thank Heaven that I am not yet
mad! The princess palatiness has sent me from her house, driven me out
as if I were unworthy to remain.... I have taken refuge with my sister
at Sulgostow: when I arrived, I sent for Barbara and her husband, and
said to them: 'Oh, have pity, have pity on me, for I am innocent; I am
the prince royal's wife!'
My poor sister, to whom the whole transaction was a mystery, thought I
had lost my reason, and was about calling in her maids to aid me. I
endeavored to calm her fears, and to-day I have confided to her all my
sorrows.
I will try to write down all these recent events. If God ever permits me
to enjoy happiness and tranquillity, I will again read these pages, and
will better appreciate the value of a quiet felicity.
Six weeks passed after our marriage, and no one had the least suspicion:
neither the king, the court, nor the watchful society surrounding me,
had penetrated our secret; all called me as usual, the Starostine
Krasinska. The prince royal, under the pretext of his health, went
nowhere, and the prince palatine managed our interviews. But a week
since the prince royal began to go out, and paid a visit to my aunt, the
princess. I was in the saloon when he was announced; it was the first
time since our marriage that I had seen him in presence of a third
person, and I found it impossible to hide my confusion. I could not see
and hear him without telling him through my eyes that I loved him.
The princess observed me. When he was gone, she scolded me, and
reproached me with what she called my coquetry and imprudence; I could
not bear her injustice, and very rashly replied, that no one had a right
to blame me when my own conscience absolved me. The prince royal came
again the next day; the princess was abstracted, and a dissatisfaction,
which she strove in vain to disguise, appeared in her whole manner. He
was entirely occupied with me, and did not perceive the storm which was
gathering; not having been able to speak with me alone on that day, he
had written to me, and while pretending to play with my work basket, he
slipped a note into it. The princess saw it, and as soon as he had gone,
seized upon the fatal note, which was addressed to: 'My well beloved.'
I can never describe her anger and indignation. How did I ever live
through that horrible scene!...
'Your _intrigues_,' she cried, 'will never succeed in my house; you are
the horror, the shame, and the ignominy of your family, and you shall
not disgrace my mansion. I have already taken measures to put an end to
your infamous conduct; here is a copy of the letter sent by me this
morning to the minister, Bruhl. I tell him that honor is dearer and more
sacred to me than all family ties, that an ambitious hope will never
induce me to renounce the duties which it imposes upon me, and that I
now esteem it my duty to inform him that the prince royal loves Frances
Krasinska. I conjure the minister to do all in his power to end this
intrigue while there is yet time. I will prove that I have nothing to do
with this abomination, and that if I have been in fault, it was because
I placed such implicit confidence in my niece's virtue. Yes--the king
himself, at this very moment, probably knows the whole extent of your
shame and your insane pride.'
'The king!' I cried, almost out of my senses, 'the king! Ah! Let no one
tell him that I am the prince royal's wife; let no one tell him that, or
I shall die at your feet!'
Lost to all memory, all sense, except that of the fearful abyss just
opened before me, I thus confessed the secret which no personal
invective or humiliation could have drawn from me.
'How?' she replied, 'the wife of the prince royal! You! his wife!'
This word recalled me to myself, and led me to comprehend the enormity
of my fault. I shuddered when I thought of the prince's anger, and I saw
but one chance for safety, and that was by confessing all to the
princess.