[31] _Memoirs of Jacques Casanova_: For the first time translated into
English and Privately Printed, 1894: 12 vols.: 1000 copies only. Also
_Mémoires de J. Casanova de Seingalt: Garnier Frères_, Paris, N.D. Our
text is a blend of the two versions.
_Casanova makes the acquaintance of two charming cousins, Hedvige and
Helène, at Geneva. After sundry meetings, at which theology and sexual
matters are discussed in a frank and amusing fashion, Casanova gets
the chance to take his two charmers for a stroll in the garden where
they can be sure of immunity from interruption. Casanova’s opportunity
occurs as a result of Hedvige’s desire to know why a deity could not
impregnate a woman, a male acquaintance having said that he could not
with propriety expound such mysteries to her. Casanova gladly agrees
to make the matter clear, adding, however, that he must be allowed to
speak quite plainly. The text continues:_
Yea, speak clearly,” quoth Hedvige, “for none can hear us; but I am
forced to confess that I am cognisant of the formation of man only in
theory and by lecture. True, I have seen statues, but I have never seen
and still less have I examined real[32] man. And thou, Helène?”
[32] _i.e._, naked.
“I have never desired so to do.”
“Why not? ‘Tis good to know all.”
“Well, my charming Hedvige,” said I, “thy theologian wished to tell
thee that Jesus was not capable of erection.”
“What is that?”
“Give me thy hand.”
“I feel it and I can picture it; for, without this natural phenomenon,
man could not impregnate his consort. And this foolish theologian
pretendeth that it is an imperfection!”
“Yea, for this phenomenon springeth from desire, for ‘tis very true
that it would not have worked in me, sweet Hedvige, had I not found
thee charming and had not what I had seen of thee given me the most
seductive idea of the beauties I see not. Tell me frankly if, after
feeling this rigidity of mine, thou dost not experience an agreeable
sensation?”
“I confess it; ‘tis precisely where thou pressest. Dost not feel as I,
my dear Helène, an itching and a longing on likening to the very true
discourse given to us by this gentleman?”
“Yea, I feel it, but I feel it very often, without any discourse
exciting it.”
“And then,” quoth I, “Nature forceth thee to appease it thus?”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, that it were so, Hedvige! Even in sleep one’s hand strayeth there
by instinct; and, lacking this easement, I have read that we should
suffer terrible maladies.”
And whilst we continued this philosophical converse, which the youthful
theologian sustained with an authoritative tone, and which brought a
look of voluptuousness to the lovely complexion of her cousin, we came
to the edge of a fine pool where one descended by a marble staircase
to bathe. Although it was chilly, our heads were warm, and it came to
me to propose to the maidens that they put their feet in the water,
assuring them that it would do them good and, if they permitted me,
that I would count it an honour to remove their shoes and stockings.
“Come,” said Hedvige, “I like the project well.”
“I, too,” said Helène.
“Seat yourselves, ladies, on the first stair.”
Behold them, then, seated, and thy servant, on the fourth stair, busy
unshoeing them, what time he extolled the beauty of their legs and made
pretence to be incurious at the moment to see higher than the knee.
Then, having gone down to the water, they had perforce to lift their
garments, and in this business I encouraged them.
“Ah, well,” remarked Hedvige, “men also have thighs.”
Helène, who would have felt shame to show less courage than her cousin,
did not hang back.
“Come, my charming naiads,” quoth I, “‘tis enough. Ye will catch cold
if ye remain for long in the water.”
They reascended the staircase backwards, ever holding up their robes
lest they might wet them; and it fell to me to dry their limbs with
all the handkerchiefs that I possessed. This pleasant task permitted
me to see and touch everything at my leisure, and the reader will
scarce need my word to affirm that I made the best of my opportunity.
The pretty niece (Hedvige) declared that I was too curious, but Helène
let me have my way with an air so tender and so languid that I was hard
pressed not to push the matter further. In the end, having again put
on their shoes and stockings, I told them that I was enchanted to have
viewed the secret charms of the two most lovely ladies in Geneva.
“What effect hath it on thee?” asked Hedvige of me.
“I dare not tell ye to look, but feel, both of ye.”
“Bathe thou thyself also.”
“Impossible. The business is too long for a man.”
“But we have yet two full hours to remain here without fear of
interruption from anyone.”
This response caused me to see the happiness that awaited me; but I did
not think fit to expose myself to an illness by entering the water in
the state in which I was. Seeing a summer-house not far off and assured
that M. Tronchin would have left it open, I took my two beauties by
the arm and led them thither, not letting them guess, however, my
intentions.
The summer-house was full of vases of _pot pourri_, pretty engravings,
and so forth; but what I valued most was a large and lovely divan, fit
for repose and for pleasure. There, seated ‘twixt these two beauties
and lavishing caresses upon them, I said that I desired to show them
that which they had never seen, at the same time exposing to their gaze
the principal agent of humanity. They raised themselves to admire it,
and then, taking the hand of each one of them, I procured for them a
considerable pleasure; but, in the course of this labour, an abundant
emission on my part caused them great amazement.
“‘Tis its speech,” said I. “The speech of the great creator of men.”
“‘Tis delicious!” cried Helène, laughing at the term ‘speech.’
“I, too, have the power of speech,” said Hedvige, “and I will show it
thee, if thou wilt wait a moment.”
“Put thyself in my hands, sweet Hedvige. I will spare thee the trouble
of making it come thyself, and I will do it better than thee.”
“I well believe it. But I have never done that with a man.”
“Nor I,” said Helène.
When they had placed themselves directly before me, their arms enlaced,
I made them swoon away afresh. Then, having seated ourselves, what time
my hand strayed all over their charms, I let them divert themselves at
their leisure, till in the end I moistened their palms with a second
emission of the natural moisture, which they examined curiously on
their fingers.
Having once again put ourselves in a state of decency, we passed yet
another half hour in exchanging kisses, after which I told them that
they had rendered me partially happy, but, to make the work perfect,
that I hoped they would devise a means of granting me their first
favours. Then I showed them those preservative sachets which the
English have invented in order to rid the fair sex of all fear. These
little “purses,”[33] the use of which I explained to them, excited
their admiration, and Hedvige said to her cousin that she would give
thought to the matter. Become intimate friends and in good case to
become even better, we took our way towards the house, where we found
Helène’s mother and the minister walking by the edge of the lake....
[33] _Capote Anglaise_: in slang terms, a French letter or condom. The
French talk about an “English” letter; we say the reverse.
_Follows now the description of a dinner at which Casanova, Hedvige and
Helène are present. The text continues:_
Helène shone in solving the questions put to her by the company. M. de
Ximenes begged her to justify as best she might our first mother, who
had deceived her husband by causing him to eat the fatal apple.
“Eve,” quoth she, “deceived not her husband; she did but cajole him
into eating it in the hope of giving him one more perfection. Moreover,
Eve had not received the prohibition from God but from Adam; in her act
there was seduction, not deceit; in all probability her womanly sense
did not let her regard the prohibition as serious.” ...
... Another lady then asked her if one might believe the history of the
apple to be symbolical. Hedvige answered:
“I think not, since it could only be a symbol of sexual union, and ‘tis
established that such was not consummated ‘twixt Adam and Eve in the
Garden of Eden.”
“On this point the learned differ.”
“So much the worse for them, madam; the Scripture is plain enough.
‘Tis written in the first verse of the fourth chapter that Adam knew
Eve after his expulsion from their terrestrial paradise, and that in
consequence she conceived Cain.”
“Yea, but the verse sayeth not that Adam did not know her before, and,
consequently, he might so have done.”
“This I cannot allow, for had he known her before she would have
conceived; ‘twere foolish to suppose that two creatures, who had just
quitted God’s hands, and were, in consequence, as nigh perfect as is
possible, could consummate the act of generation with no result.”
_The conversation now becomes very theological and controversial, and
we take leave to omit it._
... After dinner ... I went apart with Helène, who told me that her
cousin and the pastor would sup with her mother on the following day.
“Hedvige,” she added, “will stay and sleep with me, as is ever her
custom when she cometh with her uncle to sup. It remaineth to be seen
if thou art willing to hide in a spot I will show thee to-morrow at
eleven of the clock, in order to pass the night with us. Call on my
mother at that hour to-morrow, and I will find means of showing thee
the spot....”
... In the morning I paid the mother a visit, and as Helène was
escorting me out, she showed me a closed door ‘twixt the two stairs.
“At seven hours of the clock,” said she, “thou will find it open, and
when thou art within, put on the bolt. Take care lest any see thee as
thou enter the house.”
_Casanova, in due course, takes up his position in the hiding place,
and during his long wait for the two charmers, gives himself up to
reflection on his past. The text continues:_
... In my long and profligate career, during which I have turned the
heads of several hundreds of ladies, I have grown familiar with all
methods of seduction; but it hath ever been my guiding principle never
to press my attack against novices or those in whom prejudices were
likely to prove an obstacle, save in the presence of another woman.
Timidity, I soon discovered, maketh a girl averse from seduction; in
company with another girl she is easily conquered; the weakness of one
bringeth on the fall of the other.
Fathers and mothers are of contrary opinion, but they err. They will
not trust their daughter to take a walk or go to a ball with a young
man, but no difficulty is made if she hath another girl with her. I
repeat--they err; if the young man hath the requisite skill, their
daughter is lost. A sense of false shame hindereth them from making a
determined resistance to seduction, but, the first step taken, the fall
cometh inevitably and rapidly. One girl, granting some small favour,
straightway maketh her friend grant a much greater, thereby to hide her
own blushes; and if the seducer be clever at his trade, the youthful
innocent will soon have travelled too far to be able to draw back. In
addition, the more innocent the girl, the greater her ignorance of
seduction’s methods. Ere she hath time to think, pleasure doth attract
her, curiosity draweth her yet a little further, and opportunity doth
the rest.
For example, ‘twere possible I had been able to seduce Hedvige without
Helène, but I am assured I had never succeeded with Helène had she not
seen her cousin grant me certain licenses what time she took liberties
with me--practices which she thought, doubtless, contrary to the
modesty and decorum of a respectable young woman.... I desire what I
say to be a warning to fathers and mothers, and to secure me a place in
their esteem, at any rate.
Shortly after the pastor had gone I heard three light knocks on my
prison door. I opened it, and a hand soft as satin grasped mine. My
whole being quivered. ‘Twas Helène’s hand, and that happy moment had
already repaid me for my long waiting.
“Follow me softly,” she said, in a low voice; but scarce had she closed
the door ere I, in my impatience, clasped her tenderly in my arms, and
caused her to feel the effect which her mere presence had produced on
me, what time I assured myself of her docility.
“Be prudent, my friend,” said she to me, “and come softly upstairs.”
I followed her as best I might in the darkness, she leading me along a
gallery into a room without light, the door of which she closed behind
us, and thence into a lighted chamber, wherein was Hedvige, well nigh
in a state of nudity. She came to me with open arms on the instant she
saw me, and, embracing me ardently, signified her appreciation of my
patience in my weary prison.
“Divine Hedvige,” quoth I, “had I not loved thee madly, I had not
stayed one fourth of an hour in that dismal cell; but for thy sake I
would readily pass hours there daily till I quit this spot. But let us
lose no time. To bed!”
“Do ye twain get to bed,” quoth Helène. “I will couch on the divan.”
“Oh!” cried Hedvige. “Think not so. Our fate must be exactly equal.”
“Yea, beloved Helène,” said I, embracing her. “I love thee both with
equal ardour, and these ceremonies but waste the time wherein I should
be convincing ye of my passion. Follow my example. I am about to
disrobe and place myself in the midst of the bed. Come lie beside me,
and ye will see if I love ye as ye are worthy to be loved. If all be
safe, I will remain till ye send me away, but whate’er ye do, of your
mercy extinguish not the light.”
In the twinkling of an eye, all the while discussing the theory of
shame with Hedvige the theologian, I presented myself to their gaze
in the costume of Adam. Hedvige, blushing but fearing, perchance,
to depreciate herself in my opinion by any further reserve, parted
with the last shred of modesty, citing the opinion of St. Clement
Alexandrinus, who held that in the shirt lay the seat of shame.
I praised unstintingly her charms and the perfection of her form,
thereby hoping to encourage Helène, who was disrobing but slowly; but
a charge of mock modesty from her cousin had more effect than all my
praises. At length this Venus was in a state of nature, covering her
most secret parts with one hand, concealing one breast with the other,
and seeming most sadly shamed of all she could not conceal. Her modest
confusion, this strife ‘twixt expiring modesty and growing passion,
enchanted me.
Hedvige was taller than Helène, her skin was whiter, and her breasts
twice the size of her cousin’s; but in Helène was more animation, her
form was more sweetly moulded, and her bust was on the model of the
Venus de Medici.
By degrees she became bolder, put at ease by her cousin, and we passed
several moments in admiring each other; then to bed we went. Nature
called loudly, and all we desired was to satisfy its demands. With a
coolness that I did not fear would fail me, I made a woman of Hedvige,
and when all was o’er she kissed me, saying that the pain was naught
compared to the pleasure.
Next came the turn of Helène, who was six years younger than Hedvige;
but the finest “fleece”[34] that e’er I saw presented something of an
obstacle. This she parted with her two hands, being jealous of her
cousin’s success; and although she was not initiated into the mysteries
of love without woeful pain, her sighs were truly sighs of happiness as
she responded to my ardent efforts. Her charms and vivacious movements
caused me to shorten the sacrifice, and when I quitted the sanctuary my
two beauties perceived I was in need of repose.
[34] “Fleece,” of course, is an accepted erotic term for pubic hair
(Farmer: _Slang and its Analogues_); _c.f._ also the French term
_toison_. Helène’s hirsute adornment is in keeping with psychological
precept--that hairiness and sensuality go hand in hand. Havelock
Ellis, in his _Studies_, quotes numerous authorities who are strongly
of this opinion, (vol. 5: _Erotic Symbolism_). Lombroso, he adds,
found that prostitutes generally tend to be hairy. In another volume
of his _Studies_, Havelock Ellis relates the history of a man for
whom a hirsute _mons veneris_ always had a peculiar attraction.
“When accosted by prostitutes,” says the subject of this history,
“I would never go with them unless assured that the _mons veneris_
was very hirsute.” That genial old soldier Brantôme (_Lives of Fair
and Gallant Ladies_: Translated by A. R. Allinson: Paris, Charles
Carrington, 1901) says: “I have heard speak of a certain great lady,
and I have known her myself and do know her still, who is all shaggy
and hairy over the chest, stomach, shoulders and all down the spine,
and on her bottom, like a savage.... The proverb hath it, no person
thus hairy is ever rich or wanton; but verily in this case the lady
is both the one and the other, I can assure you....” Brantôme also
speaks of women who “have hair in that part not curly at all, but
so long and drooping, you would say they were the moustachios of a
Saracen’s head. Nathless they do never remove this fleece, but prefer
to have it so, seeing there is a saying: ‘A grassgrown path and a
hairy coynte are both good roads to ride.’ ... I have heard speak of
another fair and honourable lady which did have the hair of this part
so long she would entwine the same with strings or ribbons of silk,
crimson and other colours, and have them curled like the curls of a
wig, and attached to her thighs. And in such guise would she show her
_motte_ to her husband or lover. Or else she would unwind the ribbons
and cords, so that the hair did remain after in curl, and looking
prettier so than it would otherwise have done.” Elsewhere Brantôme
tells of a gentleman of his acquaintance who, while sleeping with a
very beautiful lady, “and one of good condition, and doing his devoir
with her, did find in that part sundry hairs so sharp and prickly that
‘twas with all the difficulty in the world he could finish, so sharply
did these prick and pierce him....” Abnormal growth of pubic hair is
by no means confined to _conte_ and fable. Jahn, says Havelock Ellis
in his _Studies_, delivered a woman whose pubic hair was longer than
that of her head, reaching below her knees. Paulini also knew a woman
“whose pubic hair nearly reached her knees and was sold to make wigs.
Bartholin mentions a soldier’s wife who plaited her pubic hair behind
her back.” (_Erotic Symbolism_). We have no actual evidence that
Helène’s growth was of these abnormal dimensions, but it was obviously
out of the ordinary to provoke comment from a man of Casanova’s
experience.
The altar was purified of the blood of the victims, and we all bathed,
enchanted to serve one another.
Life returned to me ‘neath their curious fingers, and the sight filled
them with joy.... For several hours I overwhelmed them with happiness,
passing five or six times from one to the other before exhausting
myself and arriving at the ecstatic spasm. In the intervals, perceiving
them docile and desirous, I made them execute Aretin’s most complicated
postures, a business that amused them beyond measure.[35] We were
lavish with our kisses on whatever part took our fancy, and just as
Hedvige applied her lips to the mouth of the pistol, it went off and
the discharge inundated her face and her bosom. She was delighted, and
studied the eruption to an end with all the curiosity of a physician.
[35] Pietro Aretino, author of _The Ragionamenti_, is generally
supposed to have enumerated a variety of postures in which the
venereal act might be performed. To the many he is known solely as
“the man of the postures.” This particular claim to distinction is,
to say the least, a matter much in dispute, but we will reserve
discussion of the question for Vol. 2 of _Anthologica Rarissima_,
where lavish excerpts from Aretino’s works will be given.
The night seemed short, though we had not lost a moment’s space, and
at daybreak we had to part. 1 left them in bed, being fortunate to get
away observed of none.
_In the evening, after supper, Casanova contrives another meeting with
his charmers._
... Going out with my heroines, I worked wonders. Hedvige philosophised
over the pleasure, and told me that she would ne’er have tasted it
had I not chanced to encounter her uncle. Helène did not speak; more
voluptuous than her cousin, she swelled out like a dove, and came
to life only to expire a moment after. I wondered at her amazing
fecundity, although such is not uncommon; while I was engaged in one
operation, she passed fourteen times from life to death. True, ‘twas
the sixth course I had run, so I made my pace somewhat slower to enjoy
the pleasure she took in the business....
_After passing another night with the cousins, Casanova again sets out
on his travels; and here, for the time being, we will leave him._
_EXCURSUS_ to _ADVENTURES WITH HEDVIGE AND HELÈNE AT GENEVA_.
Jacques Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt, Knight of the Golden Spur,
and one of the most remarkable figures in history and letters, was
born on April 2nd, 1725. To-day, nearly two hundred years afterwards,
his _Memoirs_ are more vivid and readable than anything penned by our
contemporary writers.
“He who opens these wonderful pages,” says the English translator in
his preface, “is as one who sits in a theatre and looks across the
gloom, not on a stage-play, but on another and a vanished world. The
curtain draws up, and suddenly a hundred and fifty years are rolled
away, and in bright light stands out before us the whole life of the
past; the gay dresses, the polished wit, the careless morals, and all
the revel and dancing of those merry years before the mighty deluge of
the Revolution.
“The palaces and marble stairs of old Venice are no longer desolate,
but thronged with scarlet-robed senators, prisoners with the doom of
the Ten upon their heads cross the Bridge of Sighs, at dead of night
the nun slips out of the convent gate to the dark canal where a gondola
is waiting, we assist at the _parties fines_ of cardinals, and we see
the bank made at faro.
“Venice gives place to the assembly rooms of Mrs. Cornely and the fast
taverns of the London of 1760; we pass from Versailles to the Winter
Palace of St. Petersburg in the days of Catherine, from the policy of
the Great Frederick to the lewd mirth of strolling-players, and the
presence-chamber of the Vatican is succeeded by an intrigue in a garret.
“It is indeed a new experience to read this history of a man who,
refraining from nothing, has concealed nothing; of one who stood in
the courts of Louis the Magnificent for Madame de Pompadour and the
nobles of the _ancien régime_, and had an affair with an adventuress of
Denmark Street, Soho; who was bound over to keep the peace by Fielding,
and knew Cagliostro.
“The friend of popes and kings and noblemen, and of all the male and
female ruffians and vagabonds of Europe, abbé, soldier, charlatan,
gamester, financier, diplomatist, _viveur_, philosopher, virtuoso,
‘chemist, fiddler, and buffoon’, each of these, and all of these, was
Giacomo Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt, Knight of the Golden Spur.”
The English translation of Casanova’s _Memoirs_, from which the
foregoing is taken, is a valuable work. To-day the twelve volume set,
of which 1,000 copies were privately printed in 1894, commands anything
from thirty to forty-five pounds in the sale-room or book-seller’s
shop. We have been told that the printer of this English version was
prosecuted, and all copies of the work confiscated by the police, who
were ordered to burn them. Further, we are told that the copies we buy
and read to-day are the copies burned by the police.
If this be so, all honour to the police, for the destruction of any
scholarly rendering of these _Memoirs_ can only be described as an act
of vandalism. Because Casanova is not for the multitude, does it follow
he is not for the few? Translated into the English tongue, Casanova’s
_Memoirs_ must be “privately printed” by reason of his plain speech
in the matter of amorous intrigue, yet, were every erotic word and
scene expunged, the work would still be of fascinating interest and
inestimable value to the student of history. There exists a bowdlerised
and abridged edition of these _Memoirs_; we have never seen, and we
never wish to see, this work. A study of life, without a leavening of
human nature, is worse than useless.
Casanova, if any reliance is to be set on his writings, was a sexual
athlete--a member of that rare and remarkable class of men who are
capable of amazing feats in the lists of love. Frequent reference is
made to his prowess and observations by the great sexual psychologists,
Havelock Ellis in particular. Bloch, (_The Sexual Life of Our Time_),
quoting from a work by Oscar A. H. Schmitz, has some interesting
remarks to make on the character of Casanova.
“Casanova,” he says, “is pre-eminently the erotic, also crafty and
deceitful (seducer), not, however, for the gratification of his need
of power, but rather for the agreeable satisfaction of his need for
sensual love; ... for Casanova each one is ‘the woman’ ... Casanova
is human, cares always for the happiness of the woman he loves, and
devotes to them a tender reflection; ... Casanova is the typical
feminist, he possesses a profound understanding of woman’s soul, is not
disappointed by love, and needs for his life’s happiness continuous
contact with feminine natures....”
“Whatever I have done in the course of my life,” says Casanova,[36]
“whether it be good or evil, has been done freely; I am a free
agent.... Man is free, but his freedom ceases when he has no faith in
it.... Man is free; yet we must not suppose he is at liberty to do
everything he pleases, for he becomes a slave the moment he allows his
actions to be ruled by his passions. The man who has sufficient power
over himself to wait until his nature has recovered its even balance is
the truly wise man, but such beings are seldom met with....
[36] English translation of the Author’s Preface.
“The sanguine temperament rendered me very sensible to the attractions
of voluptuousness.... The chief business of my life has always been to
indulge my senses; I never knew anything of greater importance. I felt
myself born for the fair sex, I have ever loved it dearly, and I have
been loved by it as often and as much as I could....
“ ... Should anyone bring against me an accusation of sensuality he
would be wrong, for all the fierceness of my senses never caused
me to neglect any of my duties.... I have always been fond of
highly-seasoned, rich dishes.... As for women, I have always found the
odour of my beloved ones exceeding pleasant....
“ ... It may be that certain love scenes will be considered too
explicit, but let no one blame me, unless it be for lack of skill, for
I ought not to be scolded because, in my old age, I can find no other
enjoyment but that which recollections of the past afford to me. After
all, virtuous and prudish readers are at liberty to skip over any
offensive pictures, and I think it my duty to give them this piece of
advice....
“ ... My Memoirs are not written for young persons who, in order to
avoid false steps and slippery roads, ought to spend their youth in
blissful ignorance, but for those who, having thorough experience
of life, are no longer exposed to temptation, and who, having but
too often gone through the fire, are like salamanders, and can be
scorched by it no more.... I have no hesitation in saying that the
really virtuous are those persons who can practise virtue without the
slightest trouble; such persons are always full of toleration, and it
is to them that my Memoirs are addressed....”
Casanova, as he himself tells us, was three score and twelve years
when he wrote his _Memoirs_. The writing, he adds, was both a solace
and a pleasure. Nevertheless, as the English translator says in his
appendix, “the last five years of his life were passed in petty
mortifications.... Death came to him somewhat as a release. He received
the sacraments with devotion, exclaimed: ‘Great God, and all ye who
witness my death, I have lived a philosopher and I die a Christian,’
and so died--a quiet ending to a wonderfully brilliant and entirely
useless career.”