1849 - 1850
Peace renewed between Balzac and his family--He thinks of old
friends--Madame Hanska's continued vacillations--Dr. Knothe's
treatment--Madame Hanska's relations with Balzac, and her
ignorance about his illness--Visit to Kiev--Balzac's marriage
--His letters to his mother, sister, and to Madame Carraud
--Delay in starting for France--Terrible journey--Madame Honore
de Balzac's pearl necklace and strange letter--Balzac's married
life--Arrival of the newly-married couple in Paris.
The quarrel between Balzac and his family was quickly made up, and it
was settled that his mother should--if she wished to do so--return at
once to Suresnes; and come up every day to the Rue Fortunee, taking
carriages for this purpose at Balzac's expense. However, having made a
small commotion, and asserted her dignity by the announcement that she
felt perfectly free to leave the Rue Fortunee whenever she chose to do
so, Madame de Balzac's resentment was satisfied; and she remained
there till a month before Balzac's return in May, 1850, when illness
necessitated her removal to her daughter's house.[*] The nieces, of
whom Balzac was really extremely fond, "sulked" no longer, but wrote
letters which their uncle praised highly, and which he answered gaily
and amusingly. The shadowy cloud, too, which had prevented the brother
and sister from seeing each other clearly, dispersed for ever; and one
of Honore's letters to Laure about this time contains the loving
words, "As far as you are concerned, every day is your festival in my
heart, companion of my childhood, and of my bright as well as of my
gloomy days."[+]
[*] "Une Page perdue de Honore de Balzac," by the Vicomte de
Spoelberch de Lovenjoul.
[+] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 420.
It is curious to notice that Balzac's thoughts now turned to those
faithful friends of his youth, who had in late years passed rather
into the background of his life. He wrote a long letter to Madame
Delannoy, who had been a mother to him in the struggling days of his
half-starved youth. He had paid off the debt he owed her, but he said
he would never be able to thank her adequately for her tenderness and
goodness to him. He thought also of Dablin, his early benefactor; and
he remembered the old days at Frapesle, and wrote Madame Carraud a
most affectionate letter, sending messages of remembrance to Borget
and to the Commandant Carraud, and inquiring about his old
acquaintance Periollas. The Carrauds, like others in those
revolutionary days, had lost money; and Balzac explained that though
owing to his illness he had been forbidden to write, he felt obliged
to disobey his doctor's commands, that Madame Carraud should not
believe that true friends can ever fail each other in trouble. He
says: "I have never ceased thinking about you, loving you, talking of
you, even here, where they have known Borget since 1833. . . . How
different life is from the height of fifty years, and how far we are
often from our hopes! . . . How many objects, how many illusions have
been thrown overboard! and except for the affection which continues to
grow, I have advanced in nothing!"[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 422.
The annals of this last year of Balzac's life, are a record of
constantly disappointed hope and of physical suffering. One after
another he was forced to give up his many plans, and to remain in
suffering inaction. He had intended to go to Kiev to present himself
to the Governor-General, but this expedition was put off from month to
month owing to his ill health. A visit to Moscow on his way back to
Paris, was another project which had to be abandoned, as he was never
well enough to make his proposed visit to France till he took his last
painful and difficult journey in April, 1850, and sight-seeing was
then impossible. His hopefulness, however, never left him, and his
projected enterprises, whether they took the shape of writings or of
travels, were in his eyes only deferred, never definitely
relinquished. The wearing uncertainty about Madame Hanska's intentions
was the one condition of his life which continued always, if
continuance can be considered applicable to anything so variable as
that lady's moods. In April, 1849, Balzac wrote to his sister: "No one
knows what the year 1847, and February, 1848, and above all the doubt
as to what my fate will be, have cost me!"[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 392.
Sometimes, Madame Hanska, cruelly regardless of the agony she caused
the sick man by her heedless words, would threaten to break off the
engagement altogether. On other occasions, Balzac would write to his
family to say that, for reasons which he was unable to give in his
letters, the question of the marriage was _postponed indefinitely_;
and once he made the resolution that he would not leave Wierzchownia
till the affair was settled in one way or another. In a crisis of his
terrible malady he wrote: "Whatever happens, I shall come back in
August. One must die at one's post. . . . How can I offer a life as
broken as mine! I must make my situation clear to the incomparable
friend who for sixteen years has shone on my life like a beneficent
star."[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 401.
The relations between Balzac and Madame Hanska at this time are
mysterious. He shows his usual caution in his letters to his family,
and the reader is conscious that much was passing at Wierzchownia, on
which Balzac is absolutely silent, and that many events that he _does_
record are carefully arranged with the intention of conveying certain
impressions to his hearers. One of his motives is clear. He was
nervously afraid that gossip about his secret engagement, and possibly
approaching marriage, should be spread abroad prematurely; and that
the report might either frighten Madame Hanska into dismissing him
altogether, or might reach the ears of her relations, and cause them
to remonstrate with her anew on the folly of her proceedings.
Other discrepancies are puzzling. All through 1849 Balzac, as we have
seen, was very ill. He was suffering from aneurism of the heart, a
complaint which the two doctors Knothe told him they could cure. With
perfect faith in their powers, Balzac wrote to his sister expressing
regret that, owing to the ignorance of the French doctors Soulie had
been allowed to die of this malady, when he might have been saved if
Dr. Knothe's treatment had been followed. The younger doctor, however,
soon gave up Balzac's case as hopeless; but the father, who was very
intimate with the Wierzchownia family, always expressed himself
confidently about his patient's ultimate recovery; and Balzac wrote:
"What gratitude I owe to this doctor! He loves violins: when once I am
at Paris I must find a Stradivarius to present to him."[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 404.
Dr. Knothe's principal prescription was pure lemon juice. This was to
be taken twice a day, to purify and quicken the circulation of the
blood in the veins, and to re-establish the equilibrium between it and
the arterial blood. Either as a consequence of this treatment, or in
the natural course of the illness, a terrible crisis took place in
June, 1849, during which Balzac's sufferings were intense; and for
twenty-five hours the doctor never left him. After this he was better
for a time, and though his eyesight had become so weak that he was
unable to read at night, he could walk, go upstairs, and lie flat in
bed. In October he was seized with what he called Moldavian fever, a
disease which came, he said, from the swamps of the Danube, and
ravaged the Odessa district and the steppes; and again he became
dangerously ill. In January, 1850, the fever was followed by a
terrible cold in his lungs, and he was obliged to remain for ten days
in bed. However, he was cheered by the society of Madame Hanska and
Madame Georges Mniszech, who showed "adorable goodness" in keeping him
company during his imprisonment.
After hearing all this, it is startling to read in a letter from
Madame Honore de Balzac to her daughter written from Frankfort on May
16th, 1850,[*] that it is awkward that she should know nothing of the
regimen to which Balzac has been subjected by Dr. Knothe; because when
they arrive in Paris, his own doctor is certain to ask for
particulars! The most indifferent hostess could not fail, one would
think, to interest herself sufficiently about the welfare of the
solitary and expatriated guest under her roof, to consult with the
doctor about him when he was dangerously ill. More especially would
she feel responsibility, when it was owing to her own action that the
patient was cut off from all other advice, except that of a medical
man who was her peculiar _protege_. He would thus be completely in her
charge; and she would naturally be nervously anxious, for her own
comfort and satisfaction, to acquaint herself with the course of the
malady, and with the treatment used to subdue it. If we add to these
considerations the fact that the sufferer was not a mere acquaintance,
was not even only a great friend; but was the man who loved her, the
man whose wife she had promised to become, Madame Hanska's ignorance
appears totally inexplicable.
[*] Unpublished letter in the possession of the Vicomte de Spoelberch
de Lovenjoul.
We must remember, however, that we only have _Balzac's_ account of his
illness, and of his interviews with the doctor; and that the malady
being heart disease, it is possible that Dr. Knothe considered it his
duty to deceive his patient--possible therefore that Madame Hanska
knew before her marriage that Balzac was a dying man, and that the
doctor's prescriptions were useless.
Owing to the burning of her letters, we have only Balzac's
enthusiastic and lover-like descriptions to guide our idea of Madame
Hanska; and she remains to some extent a shadowy figure, difficult to
realise. Several characteristics, however, stand out clearly: among
them her power of hiding her thoughts and feelings from those to whom
she was most deeply attached; also an occasional self-control, which
seems strangely at variance with her naturally passionate and
uncontrolled nature. She was extremely proud; and the wish, while
pleasing herself, to do nothing which would lower her in the eyes of
the world, exercised a powerful influence over her actions.
Intellectually brilliant, a clever woman of business, and mentally
active; she was yet on some occasions curiously inert, and carried the
state of mind embodied in the words "live and let live," to dangerous
lengths. She must have possessed great determination, as even Balzac's
adoration, and his undoubted powers of fascination, could not move her
from the vacillations which, designedly or no, kept _him_ enchained at
her feet while _she_ remained free.
Among much however, in her character that we cannot admire, she
possessed one virtue in perfection--that of maternal love. The bond of
affection between the mother and her daughter Anna was strong and
enduring, and Madame Hanska would willingly have sacrificed everything
for her beloved child's happiness. This was the true, engrossing love
of her life; her affection for Balzac not having remained in its first
freshness, as his love for her had done. On the contrary, it was at
this time slightly withered, and had been partially stifled by
prudential considerations, so that it was difficult to discover among
the varied and tangled growths which surrounded it.
It is an interesting problem whether Balzac, in spite of his brave
words, realised that Madame Hanska no longer cared for him. When he
wrote that he was sure that none of these deferments proceeded from
want of love, did he pen these words with a wistful attempt to prove
to himself that the fact was as he stated? After eighteen months in
the same house with Madame Hanska, could he _really_ believe that only
material difficulties kept her apart from him? Or did he at last
understand: and though stricken to death, cling still, for the sake of
his pride and his lost illusions, to what had been for so long his one
object in life? We do not know.
The only thing of which we are certain is, that if the fact of Madame
Hanska's indifference _had_ slowly and painfully dawned upon Balzac,
he would never have told, and would have used words to hide his
knowledge.
On the other hand, there is sometimes a ring of truth about his words,
which seem to prove that he had not yet tasted the full bitterness of
the tragedy of his life. On November 29th, 1849, he wrote to Madame
Surville[*]: "It is the recompense of your life to possess two such
children; you must not be unjust to fate; you ought to be willing to
accept many misfortunes. The case is the same with me and Madame
Hanska. The gift of her affection accounts to me for all my troubles,
my worries, and my terrible labours. I have been paying in advance for
the price of this treasure: as Napoleon says, everything is paid for
here, nothing is stolen. I seem, indeed, to have paid very little.
Twenty-five years of work and struggle are nothing compared to a love
so splendid, so radiant, so complete. I have been fourteen months in a
desert, for it _is_ a desert; and it seems to me that they have passed
like a dream, without an hour's weariness, without a single dispute;
and that after five years to travel together, and sixteen years of
intimate acquaintance, our only troubles have been caused by the state
of our health and by business matters."
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 426.
When he wrote these words, Balzac must have at last felt tolerably
confident about a happy solution to his troubles. However, in a later
letter to his mother, he says that the Wierzchownia party are going to
Kiev for the great Fair, that he will avail himself of this occasion
for the renewal of his passport, and that he will not know till he
arrives there, whether the great event will at last take place. In any
case, he will start for France directly after the party return to
Wierzchownia in the beginning of February; and as caution is still
highly important, his mother must judge from his directions about the
Rue Fortunee, whether he is coming back alone, or is bringing his
bride with him. She is, in any case, not to be sparing about fires in
the library and the picture gallery; and can write to him at Berlin,
and at Frankfort, on his way home.
The great Fair at Kiev, which was called the "Foire des Contrats," was
a notable occasion for gaiety; and extensive preparations were made
beforehand for the enjoyment of a thoroughly festive time. A house was
hired by Madame Hanska and the Mniszechs, and furniture, carriages,
and servants, were despatched in advance. The weather, however, was an
important consideration; and on this occasion, owing to the inclemency
of the season, the roads were unfortunately impassable, so that the
pleasure trip had to be deferred from the middle till the end of
February. This was no doubt a sad disappointment to the Countess Anna,
who thereby missed much enjoyment, and the delay must have caused
intense irritation to the impatient Balzac, but Madame Hanska's
feelings on the subject remain, as usual, enigmatical.
When the Wierzchownia party at last arrived at Kiev, Madame Georges
Mniszech found plenty of gaiety awaiting her, and enjoyed herself
immensely, going out to balls in costumes of regal magnificence. Her
partners were often very rough, and on one occasion Balzac relates
that a handkerchief belonging to the young Countess, which had cost
more than 500 francs, was torn to pieces in a figure of the mazurka,
in which men contend for the dancer's handkerchief. However, "La mere
adorable" at once repaired the deficiency in her daughter's trousseau
by presenting her with one of the best of her own, "twice as nice,
with only linen enough to blow one's nose on, all the rest being
English point lace."
Balzac was unable to be present at any of these festivities, as the
journey to Kiev had caused him acute suffering; and two days after his
arrival, while he was paying his State visits to the authorities,[*]
he caught the most violent cold he had ever had, and spent the time of
his stay at Kiev in his bedroom, where his only pleasure was to see
the Countess Anna before she started for her parties, and to admire
her beautiful clothes. He ascribes his malady to "a terrible and
deleterious blast of wind called the 'chasse-neige,' which travels by
the course of the Dnieper, and perhaps comes from the shores of the
Black Sea," and which managed to penetrate to him, though he was
wrapped up with furs so that no spot seemed left for the outside air
to reach. He was now very ill, and the slightest agitation, even a
sentence spoken rather loudly in his presence, would bring on a
terrible fit of suffocation. He still hoped to return to Paris before
long, and clung to the idea that his wife would accompany him; but he
said it would be impossible to travel without a servant, as he was
unable to carry a parcel or to move quickly. As he remarks, "Tout cela
n'est pas gai!"
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 436.
However, his expedition and its attendant suffering were not
useless,[*] as the "four or five successive illnesses and the
sufferings from the climate, which I have laughed at for her sake,
have touched that noble soul; so that she is, as a sensible woman,
more influenced by them, than afraid of the few little debts which
remain to be paid, and I see that everything will go well." On March
11th, 1850, he writes from Berditchef that "everything is now arranged
for the affair his mother knows of," but that the greatest discretion
is still necessary. Madame de Balzac is given minute directions about
the flowers which are to decorate the house in the Rue Fortunee, as a
surprise to Madame Honore; and as we read, we can imagine Balzac's
pride and delight when he wrote the name. His ailments and sufferings
are forgotten, and the letter sounds as though written by an
enthusiastic boy. He will send from Frankfort to let Madame de Balzac
know the exact day that he and his bride will reach Paris; and in
order that the mystery may be preserved, will merely say, "Do not
forget on such a day to have the garden arranged,"[+] and his mother
will understand what he means. The whole house is evidently
photographed in his mind like the houses in his novels. He knows the
exact position of each vase: of the big jardiniere in the first room,
the one in the Japanese drawing-room, the two in the domed boudoir,
and the two tiny ones in the grey apartment. They are all to be filled
with flowers; but the marquetry jardiniere in the green drawing-room,
evidently the future Madame Honore's special abode, is to be filled
with "_belles, belles fleurs_!"
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 438.
[+] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 444.
The wedding took place at seven o'clock on the morning of March 14th,
1850, at the church of Saint Barbe at Berditchef. In the unavoidable
absence of the Bishop of Jitomir, the ceremony was performed by the
Abbe Comte Czarouski, whom Balzac calls a holy and virtuous priest,
and likens to Abbe Hinaux, the Duchesse d'Angouleme's confessor.
The Countess Anna accompanied her mother, and was in the highest
spirits; and the witnesses were the Comte Georges Mniszech, the Comte
Gustave Olizar brother-in-law to the Abbe Comte Czarouski, and the
cure of the parish of Berditchef. Madame Honore de Balzac had given
her capital to her children, but received in exchange a large income,
a fact which she wisely concealed because of Balzac's creditors; and
Balzac speaks with admiration of her noble generosity and
disinterestedness, in this denuding herself of her fortune.
The newly-married couple travelled back to Wierzchownia, arriving,
quite tired out, at half-past ten at night; and the next morning, as
soon as he woke, Balzac wrote to inform his mother of the great event.
He explained, with a well-adjusted prevision of future discord, if the
elder Madame de Balzac's dignity were not sufficiently considered,
that his wife had intended writing herself to offer her respects, but
that her hands were so swollen with rheumatic gout that she could not
hold a pen. He further informed his family, who had hitherto been kept
in ignorance of the fact, that from the same cause she was often
unable to walk. However, this did not depress him, as he remarked with
his usual cheerfulness, that she would certainly be cured in Paris,
where she would be able to take exercise and would follow a prescribed
treatment. On the same day he penned a delighted letter to his sister,
containing the exultant words: "For twenty-four hours, therefore,
there has now existed a Madame Eve de Balzac, _nee_ Rzewuska, _or_ a
Madame Honore de Balzac, _or_ a Madame de Balzac the younger." He
could hardly believe in his own good fortune, and the joyful letter
finishes with the words, "Ton frere Honore, au comble du bonheur!"
Two days later, Balzac wrote to Madame Carraud a letter in which he
said: "Three days ago I married the only woman I have ever loved, whom
I love more than ever, and whom I shall love till death. This union
is, I think, the recompense which God has had in reserve for me after
so much adversity, so many years of work, so much gone through and
overcome. I did not have a happy youth or happy springtide; I shall
have the most brilliant of summers and the sweetest of autumns." In
his newly-found happiness he did not forget that his old friend was
now in straitened circumstances, but begged her from himself and
Madame Honore to consider their house as her own: "Therefore, whenever
you wish to come to Paris you will come to us, without even giving us
notice. You will come to us in the Rue Fortunee as if to your own
home, just as I used to go to Frapesle. This is my right. I must
remind you of what you said to me one day at Angouleme, when, having
broken down after writing 'Louis Lambert,' I was afraid of madness,
and talked of the way in which people afflicted in this manner were
neglected. On that occasion you said, 'If you were to become mad I
should take care of you!' I have never forgotten those words, or your
look and expression. I am just the same now as I was in July, 1832. It
is because of those words that I claim you to-day, for I am nearly mad
with happiness."[*]
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 448.
In another part of the letter he tells her: "Ah! I never forget your
maternal love, your divine sympathy with suffering. Therefore,
thinking of all you are worth, and of the way in which you are
struggling with trouble, I, who have so often waged war with that
rough adversary, tell you that, knowing your unhappiness, I am ashamed
of _my_ happiness; but we are both too great for these littlenesses.
We can say to each other that happiness and unhappiness are only
conditions in which great hearts live intensely, that as much strength
of mind is required in one position as in the other, and that
misfortune with true friends is perhaps more endurable than happiness
surrounded by envy."
Balzac was not, after all, destined to start on his journey homeward
as quickly as he had intended. His health was terribly bad, his eyes
had become so weak that he could neither read nor write, and the
chronic heart and lung malady was gaining ground so rapidly, that his
breathing was affected if he made the slightest movement. It was
absolutely necessary that he should rest for a time at Wierzchownia
before attempting any further exertion. Another delay was caused by
the young Countess being attacked by measles. Her devoted mother, who
in her crippled state could not attempt any active nursing, sat by her
daughter's bedside all day, and refused to leave Wierzchownia till her
anxiety about her darling's health should be over.
It was, therefore, not till the end of April that M. and Madame Honore
de Balzac started for what proved to be a terrible journey. They did
not arrive in Dresden till about May 10th, having taken three weeks to
go to a distance which ought naturally to have been accomplished in
five or six days. The roads were in a fearful condition, and their
lives were in danger not once, but a hundred times a day. Sometimes
fifteen or sixteen men were required to hoist the carriage out of the
mud-holes into which it had fallen. It is a wonder that Balzac
survived the torture of the journey, and it must have been very trying
to the rheumatic Madame Honore. When at last they arrived at Dresden
they were both utterly exhausted, while Balzac was extremely ill, and
felt ten years older than when he started. His sight was so bad that
he could not see the letters that he was tracing on the paper, and was
obliged to apologise to his correspondents for his extraordinary
hieroglyphics, while he told Madame Surville that the swollen
condition of his wife's hands still rendered it impossible for her to
write.
However, Madame Honore was well enough to amuse herself by visits to
the jewellers' shops, where she bought a magnificent pearl necklace, a
purchase of which Balzac evidently approved, as he remarked that it
was so beautiful that it would make a saint mad! On his part, he was
greeted on his arrival by a new vexation; as letters from Paris told
him of "Vautrin" being put on the stage without his permission, and,
as we have seen, he wrote with much indignation, to put a stop to this
infringement of his rights.
An interesting letter already referred to, which is now in the
possession of the Vicomte de Spoelberch de Lovenjoul, is dated from
Frankfort, the travellers' next stopping-place. It is written to the
Countess Anna, and was begun by Balzac, and finished by his wife.
About Balzac's part of the letter there is not much to remark, except
that he was evidently very fond of his step-daughter, that he told her
how ill he was, and that the handwriting is the scrawl of a man who
could not see. His high spirits indeed have disappeared, but this
change of tone is easily accounted for by the state of his health. It
is Madame Honore's part of the letter which strikes the reader as
curiously inadequate. It is dated May 16th, only five days after
Balzac's letter from Dresden informing his family of his wife's
inability to hold a pen, and is perfectly written; so that her
rheumatic gout must have abated suddenly. She begins her letter by
commenting placidly on the sadness of seeing the sufferings of our
"poor dear friend," says she tries in vain to cheer him, and contrasts
regretfully the difference between her feelings during this journey,
and her happiness when she last visited the same places, with her
darling child at her side. The principal subject in her present rather
wearying life, is the wonderful pearl necklace, which she takes out of
its case conscientiously every day, that the air may preserve the
whiteness of the pearls. She states, indeed, that she does not care
much about it, and has only bought it to please her husband; but it
seems to have pressed the unfortunate husband rather into the
background, and to have become the chief centre of its owner's
thoughts and solicitude.
The chilling unsatisfactory impression the letter leaves on the
reader, however, is not conveyed so much by what is said by Balzac's
newly-married wife, as by what she leaves unsaid. It must be
remembered that the Countess Eve possessed the power of expressing
herself with the utmost warmth, and with even exaggerated emphasis,
when she saw fit occasion for the display of feeling. We must also
keep the fact in mind, that in writing to the daughter who was her
intimate friend, she would naturally give some indications of her real
self; and though it might be impossible for one of her curiously
secretive temperament to lift the veil altogether, and to open her
heart without reserve, she would be likely in some way to enable the
reader to realise her mental attitude. Therefore it is disconcerting
and disquieting to discover that the one noticeable characteristic of
the letter, is utter want of feeling. No anxiety is expressed about
the growing illness of the sick man, not a word tells of fears so
terrible that she hardly dares breathe them, about the ultimate result
of his malady; on the contrary, everything is taken as a matter of
course, and as though the writer had expected it beforehand. There is
not even a recognition of Balzac as her husband; he is merely "our
poor dear friend," a person for whom she feels vague pity, and in whom
Anna's degree of interest is likely to be the same as her own.
Balzac was only married for about five months, and very little is
known of his life during that time. It is certain, however, that his
marriage did not bring him the happiness which he had expected, and
Madame Hanska's letter from Frankfort helps to explain the reason of
the tragedy. Perhaps he had raised his hopes too high for fulfilment
to be a possibility in this world of compromise, and very likely his
sufferings had made him irritable and exacting. Nevertheless, so quick
a wearing out of the faithful and passionate love which had lasted for
sixteen years, and so sudden a killing of the joy which had permeated
the man's whole being when he had at last attained his goal, seems a
hard task for a woman to accomplish; and can only be explained by her
employment of the formless yet resistless force of pure indifference.
Balzac's awakening, the knowledge that the absolute perfection he had
dreamed of was only an ideal created by his own fancy, must have been
inexpressibly bitter. Utter moral collapse and vertigo were his
portion, and chaos thundered in his ears, during his sudden descent
from the heights clothed with brilliant sunshine, to the puzzling
depths, where he groped in darkness and sought in vain for firm
footing. "Our poor dear friend" seems, for the moment, to have merited
even more sympathy than the measure accorded to him by his wife, in
her intervals of leisure after caring for her pearl necklace.
Balzac's mother had, as we have already seen, taken up her abode with
Madame Surville, long before the often-deferred appearance in Paris of
her son and daughter-in-law; but Honore had given directions, that at
any rate she was to leave the Rue Fortunee before he and his bride
arrived. It would, he said, compromise her dignity to help with the
unpacking, and Madame Honore should visit her mother-in-law next day
to pay her respects. Balzac was anxious that the first meeting should
take place at Laure's house rather than at Madame de Balzac's lodging
at Suresnes, as it was now impossible for him to mount any steps, and
there were fewer stairs at No. 47, Rue des Martyrs than at his
mother's abode.[*] His health, he wrote, was so deplorable that he
would not remain for long in Paris, but would go with his wife to
Biarritz to take the waters.
[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 456.
The travellers did not after all arrive in Paris till near the end of
May. This is proved by a letter from Madame de Balzac[*] to a friend,
written on the 20th of that month, in which she says that they are now
expected every day, but that their progress is a slow one, owing to
her son's illness and the heavy condition of the roads. She adds that
she has now been in bed for three months, so Laure must evidently have
acted as her deputy, in the task of superintending Francois'
preparations in the Rue Fortunee. No doubt Francois worked
strenuously, as he, like all Balzac's servants, was devoted to his
master, though on this occasion he unwittingly provided him with a
ghastly home-coming.
[*] "Une Page perdue de Honore de Balzac," by the Vicomte de
Spoelberch de Lovenjoul.
The travellers did not arrive at the Rue Fortunee till late at
night.[*] The house was brilliantly lit, and through the windows they
could see the flowers with which the rooms were decorated; but in vain
they rang at the courtyard gate--no one appeared to let them in. It
was a miserable arrival, and utterly inexplicable, as Balzac had
planned the arrangements most carefully beforehand, going minutely
into commissariat details, that his bride might find everything
absolutely comfortable on her arrival in her new home. It was
impossible to force an entrance, so M. and Madame Honore de Balzac,
utterly worn out by the fatigues of the journey, and longing for rest,
were obliged to sit in the carriage and spend the time in agitation
and vain conjecture, while a messenger was despatched for a locksmith.
When the door was at last opened, a terrible solution to the problem
presented itself. The excitement and strain of the preparations, and
of the hourly expectation of the travellers, had completely upset the
mental balance of the unfortunate Francois, and he had gone suddenly
mad! It was a sinister omen, a wretched commencement to Balzac's home
life; and he, always superstitious, was no doubt doubly so in his
invalided and suffering condition. Francois Munch was sent to a
lunatic asylum, where he was cared for at his master's expense.
[*] "Un Roman d'Amour," by the Vicomte de Spoelberch de Lovenjoul.