Women in the Life of Balzac Part 2

Balzac inherited from his mother imagination and activity, and from both of his parents energy and kindness.

Madame de Balzac has been charged with not having been a tender mother towards her children in their infancy. She had lost her first child through her inability to nurse it properly. An excellent nurse, however, was found for Honore, and he became so healthy that later his sister Laure was placed with the same nurse. But she never seemed fully to understand her son nor even to suspect his promise. She attributed the sagacious remarks and reflections of his youth to accident, and on such occasions she would tell him that he did not understand what he was saying. His only reply would be a sweet, submissive smile which irritated her, and which she called arrogant and presumptuous. With her cold, calculating temperament, she had no patience with his staking his life and fortune on uncertain financial undertakings, and blamed him for his business failures. She suffered on account of his love of luxury and his belief in his own greatness, no evidence of which seemed sufficient to her matter-of-fact mind. She continued to misjudge him, unaware of his genius, but in spite of her grumbling and hara.s.sing disposition, she often came to his aid in his financial troubles.

Contrary to the wishes of his parents, who had destined him to become a notary, Balzac was ever dreaming of literary fame. His mother not unnaturally thought that a little poverty and difficulty would bring him to submission; so, before leaving Paris for Villeparisis in 1819 she installed him in a poorly furnished _mansard_, No. 9, rue Lesdiguieres, leaving an old woman, Madame Comin, who had been in the service of the family for more than twenty years, to watch over him.

Balzac has doubtless depicted this woman in _Facino Cane_ as Madame Vaillant, who in 1819-1820 was charged with the care of a young writer, lodged in a _mansard_, rue Lesdiguieres.

After fifteen months of this life, his health became so much impaired that his mother insisted on keeping him at home, where she cared for him faithfully. On a former occasion Madame de Balzac had had her son brought home to recuperate, for when he was sent away to _college_ at an early age, his health became so impaired that he was hurriedly returned to his home. Balzac probably refers to this event in his life when he writes, in _Louis Lambert_, that the mother, alarmed by the continuous fever of her son and his symptoms of _coma_, took him from school at four or five hours' notice.

During the five years (1820-1825) that Balzac remained at home in Villeparisis, he longed for the quiet freedom of his garret; he could not adapt himself to the bustling family circle, nor reconcile himself to the noise of the domestic machinery kept in motion by his vigilant and indefatigable mother. She was of a nervous, excitable nature, which she probably inherited from her mother, Madame Sallambier. She imagined that he was ill, and of course there was no one to convince her to the contrary. Had she known that while she thought she was contributing everything to the happiness of those around her, she was only doing the opposite, we may be sure that she of all women would have been the most wretched.

Balzac having failed in his speculations as publisher and printer, was aided by his mother financially, and she figured as one of his princ.i.p.al creditors during the remainder of his life. (E. f.a.guet in _Balzac_, is exaggerating in stating that Madame de Balzac sacrificed her whole fortune for Honore, for much of her means was spent on her favorite son, Henri.)

M. Auguste Fessart was a contemporary of the family, an observer of a great part of the life of Honore, and his confidant on more than one occasion. In his _Commentaires_ on the work ent.i.tled _Balzac, sa Vie et ses Oeuvres_, by Madame Surville, he states that the portrait of Madame de Balzac is flattering--a daughter's portrait of a mother--and declares that Madame de Balzac was very severe with her children, especially with Honore, adding that Balzac used to say that he never heard his mother speak without experiencing a certain trembling which deprived him of his faculties. Spoelberch de Lovenjoul, in reviewing the _Commentaires_ of M. Fessart, notes the recurring instances in which pity is expressed for the moral and material sufferings almost constantly endured by Balzac in his family circle. These sufferings seem to have impressed him more than anything else in the career of the novelist. In speaking of Balzac's financial appeal to his family, M. Fessart notes: "And his mother did not respond to him. She let him die of hunger! . . . I repeat that they let him die of hunger; he told me so several times!" When Madame Surville speaks of their keeping Balzac's presence in Paris a secret, saying that it was moreover a means of keeping him from all worldly temptations, M. Fessart replies: "And of giving him nothing, and of allowing him to be in need of everything!" Finally, when Madame Surville speaks of her parents' not giving Balzac the fifteen hundred francs he desired, M. Fessart confirms this, saying that his family always refused him money.

A letter from Balzac to Madame Hanska testifies to this att.i.tude of his family towards him: "In 1828 I was cast into this poor rue Ca.s.sini, in consequence of a liquidation to which I had been compelled, owing one hundred thousand francs and being without a penny, when my family would not even give me bread."

MM. Hanotaux et Vicaire, to whose admirable work we shall have occasion to refer often, state that Madame de Balzac advanced thirty-seven thousand six hundred francs for Balzac on August 16, 1822, and that his parents paid a total of forty-five thousand francs for him.

Having read M. Fessart's description of Madame de Balzac, one can agree with Madame Ruxton in saying that Balzac has portrayed his own youth in his account of the early life of Raphael in _La Peau de Chagrin_, Balzac's mother, instead of Raphael's father, being recognized in the following pa.s.sage:

"Seen from afar, my life appears to contract by some mental process. That long, slow agony of ten years' duration can be brought to memory to-day in some few phrases, in which pain is resolved into a mere idea, and pleasure becomes a philosophical reflection . . . When I left school, my father submitted me to a strict discipline; he installed me in a room near his own study, and I had to rise at five in the morning and retire at nine at night. He intended me to take my law studies seriously. I attended school, and read with an advocate as well; but my lectures and work were so narrowly circ.u.mscribed by the laws of time and s.p.a.ce, and my father required of me such a strict account, at dinner, that . . . In this manner I cowered under as strict a despotism as a monarch's until I became of age."

In confirmation of this idea, Madame Ruxton[*] quotes Madame Barnier, granddaughter of the d.u.c.h.esse d'Abrantes, who knew both Balzac and his mother, and who describes her as a cold, severe, superior, but hard-hearted woman, just the opposite of her son. Balzac himself states: "Never shall I cease to resemble Raphael in his garret."

[*] In _La Dilecta de Balzac_, Balzac states that he has described his own life in _La Peau de Chagrin_. For a picture of Balzac's unhappy childhood drawn by himself, see _Revue des deux Mondes_, March 15, 1920.

After the death (June 1829) of her husband, Madame de Balzac lived with her son at different intervals, and during his extended tour of six months in 1832 she attended to the details of his business. With her usual energy and extreme activity, she displayed her ability in various lines, for she had to have dealings with his publisher, do copying, consult the library,--sending him some books and buying others,--have the servant exercise the horses, sell the horses and carriage and dismiss the servant, arrange to have certain payments deferred, send him money and consult the physician for him, not to mention various other duties.

While Madame de Balzac was certainly requested to do far more than a son usually expects of his mother, her tantalizing letters were a source of great annoyance to him, as is seen in the following:

"What you say about my silence is one of those things which, to use your expression, makes me grasp my heart with both hands; for it is incredible I should be able to produce all I do. (I am obeying the most rigorous necessity); so if I am to write, I ought to have more time, and when I rest, I wish to lay down and not take up my pen again. Really, my poor dear mother, this ought to be understood between us once for all; otherwise, I shall have to renounce all epistolary intercourse. . . . And this morning I was about to make the first dash at my work, when your letter came and completely upset me. Do you think it possible to have artistic inspirations after being brought suddenly face to face with such a picture of my miseries as you have traced? Do you think that if I did not feel them, I should work as I do? . . . Farewell, my good mother. Try and achieve impossibilities, which is what I am doing on my side. My life is one perpetual miracle. . . . You ask me to write you in full detail; but, my dear mother, have you yet to be told what my existence is? When I am able to write, I work at my ma.n.u.scripts; when I am not working at my ma.n.u.scripts, I am thinking of them; I never have any rest. How is it my friends are not aware of this? . . . I beg of you, my dear mother, in the name of my heavy work, never to write me that such a work is good, and such another bad: you upset me for a fortnight."

Balzac appreciated what his mother did for him, and while he never fully repaid her the money she had so often requested of him, she might have felt herself partially compensated by these kind words of affection:

"My kind and excellent mother,--After writing to you in such haste, I felt my inmost heart melt as I read your letter again, and I wors.h.i.+pped you. How shall I return to you, when shall I return to you, and can I ever return to you, by my love and endeavors for your happiness, all that you have done for me? I can at present only express my deep thankfulness. . . . How deep is my grat.i.tude towards the kind hearts who pluck some of the thorns from my life and smooth my path by their affection. But constrained to an unceasing warfare against destiny, I have not always leisure to give utterance to what I feel. I would not, however, allow a day to pa.s.s without letting you know the tenderness your late proofs of devotion excite in me. A mother suffers the pangs of labor more than once with her children, does she not, my mother? Poor mothers, are you ever enough beloved! . . . I hope, my much beloved mother, you will not let yourself grow dejected. I work as hard as it is possible for a man to work; a day is only twelve hours long, I can do no more. . . . Farewell, my darling mother; I am very tired! Coffee burns my stomach. For the last twenty days I have taken no rest; and yet I must still work on, that I may remove your anxieties. . . . Keep your house; I had already sent an answer to Laura, I will not let either you or Surville bear the burden of my affairs. However, until the arrival of my proxy, it is understood that Laura, who is my cash keeper, will remit you a hundred and fifty francs a month. You may reckon on this as a regular payment; nothing in the world will take precedence of it.

Then, at the end of November to December 10, you will have the surplus of thirty-six thousand francs to reimburse you for the excess of the expenditure over the receipts during the time of your stewards.h.i.+p; during which, thanks to your devotion, you gave me all the tranquility that was possible. . . . I entreat you to take care of yourself! Nothing is so dear to me as your health! I would give half of myself to keep you well, and I would keep the other half, to do you service. My mother, the day when we shall be happy through me is coming quickly; I am beginning to gather the fruits of the sacrifices I have made this year for a more certain future. Still, a few months more and I shall be able to give you that happy life--that life without cares or anxiety--which you so much need. You will have all you desire; our little vanities will be satisfied no less than the great ambitions of our hearts. Oh do, I pray you, nurse yourself! . . . Your comfort in material things and your happiness are my riches. Oh! my dear mother, do live to see my bright future realized!"[*]

[*] In speaking of Balzac's relations to his mother, Mr. F. Lawton (_Balzac_) states: "Madame Balzac was sacrificed to his improvidence and stupendous egotism; nor can the tenderness of the language--more frequently than not called forth by some fresh immolation of her comfort to his interests--disguise this unpleasing side of his character and action. . . . And his epistolary good-byes were odd mixtures of business with sentiment."

Thus did the poor mother alternately receive letters full of scoldings and of terms of endearment from her son whose genius she never understood. She was faithful in her duties, and her ambitious son probably did not realize how much he was asking of her. But she may have had a motive in keeping him on the prolonged visit during which this last letter was written, for she was interested in his prospective marriage. Although her full name is never mentioned, the women in question, Madame D----, was evidently a widow with a fortune, and in view of this prospect was most pleasing to Madame de Balzac.

However, this matrimonial plan fell through, and Balzac himself was never enthusiastic over it. He felt that his attentions to Madame D---- would consume his very precious time, and that the affair could not come off in time to serve his interests. Could it be that Balzac was alluding to this same Madame D---- when he wrote some time later: "My beloved mother,--the affair has come to nothing, the bird was frightened away, and I am very glad of it. I had no time to run after it, and it was imperative it should be either yes or no."

This marriage project, like many others planned either for or by Balzac, came to naught, and his mother evidently became displeased with him, for she left him on his return, when he was in great need of consolation and sympathy. As frequently happened under such circ.u.mstances, Balzac expressed his deep regrets at his mother's conduct to one of his best friends, Madame Carraud, and confided to her his loneliness and longings.

Madame de Balzac was much occupied with religious ideas, and had made a collection of the writings of the mystics. Balzac plunged into the study of clairvoyance and mesmerism, and his mother, interested in the marvelous, helped him in his studies, as she knew many of the celebrated clairvoyants and mesmerists of the time.

At various times, Balzac's relations with his mother were much estranged; at one time he did not even know where she was. When she was disappointed in her favorite child, Henri, she seemed to recognize the great wrong involved in her lack of affection for Honore and his sister Laure. But she never gave him the attentions that he longed for. In May, 1840, he wrote to Madame Hanska that he was especially sad on the day of his _fete catholique_ (May 16) as, since the death of Madame de Berny, there was no one to observe this occasion, though during her life every day was a _fete_ day; he was too busy to join with his sister Laure in the mutual observance of their birthdays, and his mother cared little for him; once the d.u.c.h.esse de Castries had sent him a most beautiful bouquet,--but now there was no one.

The same year (1840) he took his mother to live with him _Aux jardies_. This he regarded as an additional burden. Her continual hara.s.sing him for the money he still owed her, her nervous and discordant disposition, her constant intrigues to force him to marry, and her numerous little acts that placed him in positions beneath the dignity of an author's standing were an incessant source of annoyance to him.

She did not remain with him long, but he tried to perform his filial duties and make her comfortable, as various letters show. One of these reads as follows:

"My dear Mother,--It is very difficult for me to enter into the engagement you ask of me, and to do so without reflection would entail consequences most serious both for you and for myself. The money necessary for my existence is, as it were, wrung from what should go to pay my debts, and hard work it is to get it. The sort of life I lead is suitable for no one; it wears out relations and friends; all fly from my dreary house. My affairs will become more and more difficult to manage, not to say impossible. The failure of my play, as regards money, still further complicates my situation. I find it impossible to work in the midst of all the little storms raised up in a household where the members do not live in harmony. My work has become feeble during the last year, as any one can see. I am in doubt what to do. But I must come to some determination within a few days. When my furniture has been sold, and when I have disposed of 'Les Jardies,' I shall not have much left. And I shall find myself alone in the world with nothing but my pen, and an attic. In such a situation shall I be able to do more for you than I am doing at this moment? I shall have to live from hand to mouth by writing articles which I can no longer write with the agility of youth which is no more. The world, and even relations, mistake me; I am engrossed by my work, and they think I am absorbed in myself. I am not blind to the fact, that up to the present moment, working as I work, I have not succeeded in paying my debts, nor in supporting myself. No future will save me.

I must do something else, look out for some other position. And it is at a time like this that you ask me to enter into an engagement! Two years ago I should have done so, and have deceived myself. Now all I can say is, come to me and share my crust. You were in a tolerable position; I had a domestic whose devotion spared you all the worry of housekeeping; you were not called on to enter into every detail, you were quiet and peaceful. You wished me to count for something in your life, when it was imperative for you to forget my existence and allow me the entire liberty without which I can do nothing. It is not a fault in you, it is the nature of women. Now everything is changed. If you wish to come back, you will have to bear a little of the burden which is about to weigh me down, and which hitherto has only pressed upon you because you chose to take it to yourself. All this is business, and in no way involves my affection for you, which is always the same; so believe in the tenderness of your devoted son."

Later, when Balzac purchased his home in the rue Fortunee, his mother had the care of it while he was in Russia. He asked her to visit the house weekly and to keep the servants on the alert by enquiring as though she expected him; yet Balzac wrote his nieces to have their grandmother visit them often, lest she carry too far the duties she imposed on herself in looking after his little home. He cautioned her to allow no one to enter the house, to insist that his old servant Francois be discreet, and especially that she be prudent in not talking about his plans; and that by all means she should take a carriage while attending to his affairs; this request was not only from him but also from Madame Hanska.

She was most faithful in looking after his home and watching the workmen to see that his instructions were carried out. In fact, she never left the house except when, on one occasion, owing to the excessive odors of the paint, she spent two nights in Laure's home.

Balzac's stay at Wierzchownia, however, was far from tranquil, for his mother was discontented with the general aspect of his affairs and increased his vexations by writing a letter in which she addressed him as _vous_, declaring that her affection was conditional on his behavior, a thing he naturally resented. "To think," he writes, "of a mother reserving the right to love a son like me, seventy-two years on the one side, and fifty on the other!"

This letter caused a serious complication in his affairs in Russia, but the mother evidently became reconciled for a few months later she wrote to him expressing her joy at the news of his recovery, and asking him to extend to his friends her most sincere thanks for their care of him in his serious illness. Aside from knowing of his illness and her inability to see him, she was most happy in feeling that he was with such good friends.

She complained of his not writing oftener, but he replied that he had written to her seven times during his absence, that the letters were posted by his hostess and that he did not wish to abuse the hospitality with which he was so royally and magnificently entertained. He resented his mother's dictating to him, a man of fifty years of age, as to how often he should write to his nieces, for while he enjoyed receiving their letters, he thought they should feel honored in receiving letters from him whenever he had time to write to them.

When the poor mother attempted to be gracious to her son by sending him a box of bonbons, she only brought him trouble, for she packed it in newspapers, and in pa.s.sing the custom-house, it was taken out and the candy crushed. Instead of thanking her for her good intentions, he rebuked her for her stupidity in regard to sending printed matter into Russia, as it endangered his stay there.

Balzac was always striving to pay his mother his long-standing indebtedness, but the Revolution of 1848, in connection with his continued illness, made this impossible. This burden of debt was also, at this time, preventing his obtaining a successful termination of his mission to Russia, for, as he explained to his mother, the lady concerned did not care to marry him while he was still enc.u.mbered with debt. Being a woman past forty, she desired that nothing should disturb the tranquillity in which she wished to live.

Owing to this critical situation and to his poor health, Balzac had repeatedly requested his mother never to write depressing news to him, but she paid little attention to this request and sent him a letter hinting at trouble in so vague a manner and with such disquieting expressions that, in his extremely nervous condition, it might have proved fatal to him. Yet it did not affect him so seriously as it did Madame Hanska, who read the letter to him, for owing to his terrible illness and the method of treatment, his eyes had become so weak that he could no longer see in the evening. Madame Hanska was so deeply interested in everything that concerned Balzac that this news made her very ill. For them to live in suspense for forty days without knowing anything definite was far worse than it would have been had his mother enumerated in detail the various misfortunes. From the preceding revelations of the disposition of Madame de Balzac, one can easily understand how it happened that her son has immortalized some of her traits in the character of _Cousine Bette_.

During the remainder of Balzac's stay in the Ukraine, he was preoccupied with the thought of his mother having every possible comfort, with his becoming acclimatized in Russia,--impossible though it was for him in his condition,--and above all with the realization of his long-cherished hope. But he cautioned his mother to observe the greatest discretion in regard to this hope, "for such things are never certain until one leaves the church after the ceremony."

What must have been his feeling of triumph when he was able to write:

"My very dear Mother,--Yesterday, at seven in the morning, thanks be to G.o.d, my marriage was blessed and celebrated in the church of Saint Barbara, at Berditchef, by the deputy of the Bishop of Jitomir. Monseigneur wished to have married me himself, but being unable, he sent a holy priest, the Count Abbe Czarouski, the eldest of the glories of the Polish Roman Catholic Church, as his representative. Madame Eve de Balzac, your daughter-in-law, in order to make an end of all obstacles, has taken an heroic and sublimely maternal resolution, viz., to give up all her fortune to her children, only reserving an annuity to herself. . . . There are now two of us to thank you for all the good care you have taken of our house, as well as to testify to you our respectful _tendresses_."

Balzac was not only anxious that his bride should be properly received, but also that his mother should preserve her dignity. On their way home he writes her from Dresden to have the house ready for their arrival (May 19, 20, 21), urging that she go either to her own home or to Laure's, for it would not be proper for her to receive her daughter-in-law in the rue Fortunee, and that she should not call until his wife had called on her. After reminding her again not to forget to procure flowers, he suggests that owing to his extremely feeble health he meet her at Laure's, for there he would have one less flight of stairs to climb. These suggestions, however, were unnecessary, as his mother had been ill in bed for several weeks in Laure's house.

After the novelist's return to Paris with his bride, his physical condition was such that in spite of the efforts of his beloved physician, Dr. Nacquart, little could be done for him, and he was destined to pa.s.s away within a short time. Balzac's mother, she with whom he had had so many misunderstandings, she who had doubtless never fully appreciated his greatness but who had sacrificed her physical strength and worldly goods for his sake, an old woman of almost seventy-two years, showed her true maternal love by remaining with her glorious and immortal son in his last moments.

MADAME SURVILLE--MADAME MALLET--MADAME DUHAMEL

"To the Casket containing all things delightful; to the Elixir of Virtue, of Grace, and of Beauty; to the Gem, to the Prodigy of all Normandy; to the Pearl of the Bayeux; to the Fairy of St.

Laurence; to the Madonna of the Rue Teinture; to the Guardian Angel of Caen, to the G.o.ddess of Enchanting Spells; to the Treasury of all Friends.h.i.+p--to Laura!"

Two years younger than Balzac, his sister Laure, not only played an important part in his life, but after his death rendered valuable service by writing his life and publis.h.i.+ng a part of his correspondence.[*] Being reared by the same nurse as he, and having had the same home environment, she was the first of his intimate companions, and throughout a large part of his life remained one of the most sympathetic of all his confidantes. As children they loved each other tenderly, and his chivalrous protection of her led to his being punished more than once without betraying her childish guilt.

Once when she arrived in time to confess, he asked her to avow nothing the next time, as he liked to be scolded for her.

[*] MM. Hanotaux et Vicaire, _Le Jeunesse de Balzac_, have correctly observed that Balzac's sister, Madame Surville, has written a most delicate and interesting book, but that she had not correctly portrayed her brother because she was blinded by her devotion to him.

He it was who accompanied her to dances, but having had the misfortune to slip and fall on one such occasion he was so sensitive to the amused smiles of the ladies that he gave up dancing, and decided to dominate society otherwise than by the graces and talents of the drawing-room. Thus it was that he became merely a spectator of these festivities, the memory of which he utilized later.

It was to Laure that, in the strictest confidence, he sent the plan of his first work, the tragedy _Cromwell_, writing it to be a surprise to the rest of the family when finished. To her he looked for moral support, asking her to have faith in him, for he needed some one to believe in him. To her also he confided his ambitions early in his career, saying that his two greatest desires were to be famous and to be loved.

Laure was married in May, 1820, to M. Midi de la Greneraye Surville, and moved from her home in Villeparisis to Bayeux. When she became homesick Balzac wrote her cheerful letters, suggesting various means of employing her time. His admiration of her was such that he even asked her to select for him a wife of her own type. He explained to her that his affection was not diminished an atom by distance or by silence, for there are torrents which make a terrible to-do and yet their beds are dry in a few days, and there are waters which flow quietly, but flow forever.

Madame Surville seems to have been the impersonation of discretion and appreciation; she was intimately acquainted with all the characters in his work and made valuable suggestions; he was most happy when discussing plans with her. He longed to have his glory reflect on his family and make the name of Balzac ill.u.s.trious. When carried away with some beautiful idea, he seemed to hear her tender voice encouraging him. He felt that were it not for her devotion to the duties of her home, their intimacy might have become even more precious and that stimulated by a literary atmosphere she might herself have become a writer.