Women in the Life of Balzac

C'S M

fection, you would insert a little word of tenderness in your letters, and this one which I am answering has not even a poor kiss. There is nothing but . . . Ah! Mo

who never understood or appreciated her son-and a son, on the other, whose longings for maternal affection were ne

of decision, and an unbounded devotion to her family; but as expressing herself in actions rather than in words. She devoted herself exclusively to the education of her children, and felt it necessary to use severity

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

ssion; 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

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 t

achinery 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 co

as one of his principal creditors during the remainder of his life. (E. Faguet in /Balzac/, is exaggerating in stating t

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!

was cast into this poor rue Cassini, in consequence of a liquidation to which I had been compelled, owi

ate that Madame de Balzac advanced thirty- seven thousand six hundred francs for Balzac on

g that Balzac has portrayed his own youth in his account of the early life of Raphael in /La Peau d

en 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 a

who knew both Balzac and his mother, and who describes her as a cold, severe, superior, but hard- hearted woma

own life in /La Peau de Chagrin/. For a picture of Balzac's unhappy c

ual 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 s

n a son usually expects of his mother, her tantalizing letters we

ary 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 perp

ly repaid her the money she had so often requested of him, she might h

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 th

endous egotism; nor can the tenderness of the language-more frequently than not called forth by some fresh immolation of her comfort to his inte

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 h

for she left him on his return, when he was in great need of consolation and sympathy. As frequently happened under such circumstances, Balzac

ystics. Balzac plunged into the study of clairvoyance and mesmerism, and his mother, interested in the marv

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, th

g him for the money he still owed her, her nervous and discordant disposition, her constant intrigues to force him to marry, and her num

rform his filial duties and make her comfortable, as

thin 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 ha

lzac 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 serv

instructions were carried out. In fact, she never left the house except when, on one oc

s vexations by writing a letter in which she addressed him as /vous/, declaring that her affection was conditional on his behavior, a thing he natural

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

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 h

acked it in newspapers, and in passing the custom-house, it was taken out and the candy crushed. Instead of thanking her for her

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

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

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 cautione

feeling of triumph whe

able, 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

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

destined to pass 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 sacrifice

E-MADAME MALLE

ning all things delig

of Beauty; to the Gem,

arl of the Bayeux;

onna of the Rue Tein

he Goddess of Encha

all Friendsh

e 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 tenderl

's sister, Madame Surville, has written a most delicate and interesting book, but that sh

to the amused smiles of the ladies that he gave up dancing, and decided to dominate society otherwise than by the graces and tale

o 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 belie

g 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 diminis

cussing plans with her. He longed to have his glory reflect on his family and make the name of Balzac illustrious. When carried away with some beautiful idea, he seemed to hear her tender voice encouraging hi

anuscript of the /Vicaire des Ardennes/; she was to prepare the first volume and he would finish it. And many years later (1842), Balzac asked his sister to furnish him with ideas for a story for young people. After the name of this story had been changed a few times, it was published under the title of /Un Debut dans la Vie/. This explains

startled at his works before his relations or friends would believe in their existence. Yet he knew that they did appreciate him to a certain exte

largely by the influence of their mother,-and of M. Surville, whose jealous and tyrannical disposition prevented their seeing each other as frequently as they would have liked. She once celebrated her birthday by visiting her brother, but she held her wat

der, and that his sister, frightened at the conditions, had pawned his silverware. In planning at a later date to leave France, however, he did not hesitate to entrust his treasures to his sister, saying that she would be a most

, for he asked her when on the verge of taking Madame de Balza

ndant and a servant, and that she will be taken care of in the way she likes. Her room is as elegant as I can make it. . . . Make her promise not to obje

tainty of his marriage, and to entreat her to avoid anything in her letters which might cause him pain. Feeling that she would never have

e deepest sympathy from him in her financial struggle, and, while he was so happy and was living in such l

hile admitting the extreme beauty of the celebrated Daffinger portrait, she was jealous of his /Predilecta/. When she saw the bound proofs of /La Femme superieure/ which he had intended for Madame Hanska, she felt that she was being neglected. In the end, he robbed his /Chatelaine/ to the profit of his /cara sorella/. But when she became

of marriage from men of the highest rank and position. But she is something far better than rich and noble; she is exquisitely good, with the sweetness of an angel, and of an easy compatibility in daily life which every day surprises me more and more; she is, moreover, thoroughly pious. Seeing all these great advantages, the world treats my hopes with something of mocking incredulity, and my prospects of success are denied and derided on all sides. If we were all to live . . . under the same roof, I could conceive the difficulties raised by my mother about her dignity; but to keep on the terms which are due to a lady who brings with her (fortune apart) most precious social advantages, I think you need only confine yourself to giving her the impression that my relations are kind and affectionate amongst themselves, and kindly affectionate towards the man she loves. It is the only way to excite her interest and to preserve her influence, which will be enormous. You may all of you, in a

Balzac, what more can I say about her? I may be envied for having won her: with the exception of her daughter, there is no woman in this land who can compare with her. She is indeed the diamond of Poland, the gem of this illustrious house of Rzewuski." After explaining to her that thi

making notes, as one might imagine, but in writing columns of figures and adding them, he discovered that he owed fifty-nine thousand francs, and exclaimed that his only recourse was to blow his brains out, or throw himself into the Seine! When questioned by his niece Sophie in tears as to whether he would not finish the novel h

to write one especially for them. The book referred to here

selle Sophi

ciples derived from a pious education. You young girls are a public to be dreaded; you ought never to be permitted to read any books less pure than your own pure souls, and you are forbidden certain books, just as you are not allowed to see society as i

lle he dedicated /

nd Sophie had a wager as to which-she or he-would marry first; so when Balzac finally reached hi

ly of Valentine during her early childhood; but she was so attractive that he feared she would be spoil

to do is the origin of all deterioration, especially in women. Rules obeyed and duties fulfilled have been the law of the young Countess from childhood, although she is an only child and a rich heiress. . . . Thus I beg Valentine not to exhibit a Creole /nonchalance/; but to listen to the advice of her sister, to impose tas

e like two nightingales coming by post to enchant the Ukrainian solitude. He had portrayed them so well that all took an interest in them, and their letters were call

he traits of her grandmother; f

I make fun if it, but all these little things are remarked upon, which I do not like; then these blank pages make me furious. I forgive Sophie on account of the /motif/, which is you, and for all she and Valentine have done for your /fete/. Ah! if my wis

ated him, he perhaps unconsciously was making his sister je

en them by her presence. She had never known misfortune; she knows nothing of annoyance; she is the idol of all who surround her, and she had the sensibility and goodness of an angel: in one word, she unites qualities which moralists consider incompatible; it is, however, only a self-evident fact to all who know her. She is evidently well informed, without pedantry; she has a delightful /naivete/; and though long since married, she has still the gaiety of a child, loving laughter like a little girl, which does not prevent her from possessing a religious enthusiasm for great objects. Physically, she has a grace even more beautiful than beauty, which triumphs over a complexion still somewhat brown (she is hardly sixteen);[*] a nose well formed, but not striking, except in the profile; a charming figure, supple and /svelte/; feet and hands exquisitely formed, and wonderfully small, as I h

ess of this statement,

ss Mni

financial situation, but Balzac tried to cheer her thus: "You should be proud of your two children, they have written two charming let

nt; she took charge of having Balzac's correspondence published. She had two children; a daughter who became Mme. Pierre Carrier-Belleuse, wife of an artist, and a son, /publiciste distingue/. Laurence de Balzac had two sons; the older Alfred de Montzaigle, dissipated, a friend of Musset, died in 1852 without issue. Th

-MADAME DE BRUGNOLLE- MADAME DELANNOY-

mens in this blessed

put ourselve

h, Madame Sallambier lived with her daughter, Madame de Balzac. She seems to have had a kind disposition, and having the requisite means, she

y books. Throughout his life he loved these games in memory of her. she encouraged him in his writings, and when /L'Heritiere de Birague/ was sold for eight hundred francs, he was sure of the

ept her informed in detail concerning the family

o think her head is better, and if the spring comes there is every reason to hope she will recover her wonted gaiety. . . . Grandmamma is suffering from a n

him," or his "most excellent grandmother." In speaking of his grief over the death of Madame de Berny, he said that never, since the death of his grandmother, had he so

's younger sister, Laurentia, but

is not yet developed. She has beautiful eyes, and though pale many men admire that. . . . You are not aware that Laurentia has taken a violent fancy to Augustus de L--- . Say nothing that might lead her to suspect I have betrayed the secret, but I have all the

. His family had a title and stood well in the town, so Laurentia's parents were pleased with the marriage. This was a

mamma, recall the last days of your own /demoisellerie/, and you will have some idea of what L

ia's husband that M. and Madame de Be

to be what the Balzac family had expected, and her children were left destitute for Madame de Balzac to care for. Balzac always spoke tender

with a muff. Besides being very practical, economical and kind, she was a good manager for Balzac financially and strict with him regarding his diet; the /bonne montagnarde/ did almost everything possible,

she talked of ending her days in one, but Balzac begged her to keep house for him. He felt that she was born for that! Madame de Brugnolle was of much help to him in looking after Lirette's financial affairs, visiting her in the convent, and carry

agnarde/ in 1844, giving her some very attractive presents. Her economy and devotion seemed to increase with time, and enabled him to travel w

as 1826, and though he remained indebted to her for more than twenty years, he tried to repay her and was ever grateful t

ith obligations of conscientiousness towards her, which my first book will acquit. No one could have behaved more like

iation. As early as 1831 he dedicated to her a volume of his /Romans et Contes philosophiques/, but

ephine Delanno

fection for me, would last beyond the limits prescribed for human feeling. This sublime privilege of prolonging the life in our hearts by the life of our works

BALZ

that this would be advantageous to them both, but the plan was never carried out. Besides their financial and literary relations, their social

emoiselle Marie de Montbeau, the daughter of Camille Delannoy,

nd Madame de Pommereul in Brittany, where he obtained the material for /Les Chouans/, and became familiar with the chateau de Fougere. To ple

ething in his manner of speaking, in his gestures, in his general appearance, so much goodness, confidence, naivete and frankness that it was impossible to know him without loving him, and his exuberant good nature

e him to make a practice of religion; while Balzac, in return, when the discussion was exhausted, endeavored to teach her the rules of backgammon. But the one remained unconverted a

speaking of the book which he had just written, hoped that Madame de Pommereul would laugh at some details about the butter, the weddings,

of another old family friend, M. de Margonne, who was livi

ather deformed and not clever. I go there for him; and besides, I am free there. They accept me throughout the region as a child; I have no value whatever, and I am happy to be there, like a monk in a mon

o recuperate from overwork. He probably did not enjoy their company, as he spoke of "having" to di

dy, but to no avail. In spite of his unkind remarks about them, Balzac appreciated their

RRAUD-MAD

angel to whom I owe everything; in short, you who are so good towards my ill-doings. I alone know how quickly I turn to you. I have recourse to your encouragements, when some arrow has wounded me; it is the wood-pigeon regaining its nest. I bear you an affection which resembles no other, and which can have no rival, because it is alone of its k

was even more constant than that with his sister Laure, which was broken at times. Though Madame Surville states that it began in 1826, the following passage shows an earlier date: "I embrace you, an

and later retired to his home at Frapesle, near Issoudun. Though an excellent husband, his inactivity was a great annoyance to his wife. According to several Balzacian writers, Madame Carraud became the type of the /femme incomprise/ for Balzac, but the present writer is inclined to agree with M. Serval when he calls this judgment astonishing, since she was a woman who adored her husband

im and inspired him with courage to continue the battle of life. It was indeed the maternal element that he needed and longed for, and Madame Carraud seems to have been a

political passions and into the stormy and parching atmosphere of literary glory. . . . If ever I should find a wife and a fortune, I could resign myself very easily to domestic happiness; but where are these things to be found? Where is the family which would have faith in a literary fortune? It would drive me mad to owe my fortune to a woman, unless I loved her, or to owe it to flatteries; I am obliged, therefore, to remain isolated. In the midst of this desert, be assured that friendships such as yours, and the assurance of finding a shelter in a loving heart, are the best consolations I can have. . . . To dedicate myself to the happiness of a woman is my constant dream, but I do not

r by summing up his trials and pouring forth his longings to Madame Carraud as he could do to no other woman, not even to his /Dilecta/. In response to this despondent epistle, she showed her broad

study more attractive, she indulged his craving for elegance and grace by surprising him with the present of a carpet and a lovely tea

im before going to Corsica and Sardinia to investigate the silver mines. M. Carraud had a fine scientific mind; he approved of Balzac's scheme, and thought of going with him;

or the post of deputy. She reproached him for a mobility of ideas, an inconstancy of resolution, and feared that the influence of the Duchesse de

voted to him, and were friendly towards each other, so much so that in December, 1833, she invited Balzac to bring Madame de Berny with him to spend se

ter. Indeed, he often referred to her as a sister, and she was generous minded enough to ask him not to writ

ither counsels, scoldings nor reproaches, for all were received kindly from her.

not averse to an agricultural life, and even if you were in any sort of hell, I would go there to join you. . . . Dear friend, let me at least tell you now, in the fulness of my heart, that during this long and painful road four noble beings have faithfully held out their hands to me, encouraged me, loved me, and had compassion on me; and you are one of them, who have in my heart an inalienable privilege and priority over all other affections; every hour of my life upon which I look back is f

in her corner unknown. (Perhaps this estimate of her caused various writers to think that Madame Carraud was Balzac's model for the /femme incomprise/.) Balzac not only had her serve him as a critic, but in 1836 he request

hirty, possessing three or four hundred thousand francs, who would take a fancy to him, would find him willing to marry her, provided she were gentle, sweet- tempered and good-looking, although enormous sacrifices would be imposed on him by th

er from /l'Etrangere/, in spite of his usual extreme prudence and absolute silence in such matters. She answered i

letter, which is the last to her on record, shows not only what she had be

ith one voice, and with one and the same feeling in our hearts, we offer you a pleasant little room in our house in Paris, in order that you may come there absolutely as if it were your own house. And what shall I say to you? You are the only creature to whom we could make this offer, and you must accept it or you would deserve to be unfortunate, for you must remember that I used to go to your house, with the sacred unscrupulousness of friendship, when you were in prosperity, and when I was struggling against all the winds of heaven, and overtaken by the high tides of the equinox, drowned in debts. I have it now in my power to make the sweet and tender reprisals of gratitude . . . You will have some days' happiness every three months: come more frequently if you will; but you are to come, that is settled. I did this in the old times. At St. Cyr, at Angouleme, at Frapesle, I renewed my life for the struggle; there I drew fresh strength, there I learned to see all that was wanting in myself; there I obtained that for which I was thirsty. You will learn for yourself all that you have unconsciously been to me, to me a toiler who was misunderstood,

for besides going there for rest, he worked there, and two of his wor

autiful words with which he dedicate

me Zulma

n entire public, but the most indulgent of sisters? Will you deign to accept it as a token of a friendship of which I am proud? You, and some few souls as noble

BALZ

ndlady to whom the vineyard peasant sold his wine. La Cognette, some of whose relatives are still living, plays a minor role in the /Comedie humaine/. Her real name was Madame Houssard; her husband, whom Balzac incorrectly called "Pere Cognet," kept a little cabaret in the rue du Bouriau. "Mere Cognette," who lost her husband about 1835

for this with the rest!" This habit gave "Mere Cognette" an extremely mediocre estimate of the novelist, and she retained a very bad impression of him. Upon learning that he had, as she expresse

t and mistress of a physician in the town. This wretched creature had an end different to the one Balzac gave his Rabouilleuse, but just as miserable, for having grown

y, but his heirs had succeeded in robbing her of it entirely.- Perhaps this

erit; she was a dish washer at the Hotel de la Cloche, where Balzac often dined while at

xamine the scene in which he was going to place one of his most beautiful novels, /Le Cure de Village/. While crossing a square under the conduct of the young M. Nivet, Balzac perceived at the corner of the rue de la Vieille-Poste and the rue de la Cite an old house, on the ground-floor of which was the shop of a dealer in old i