MY RECGLLEGTIO PRINGESS A\THERINE RADZIWILL 1 '^oi CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY DATE DUE NO]/ 8 iq7fl c. t^^^^^m^ CAYLORO PfllNTCDINU S.A. Pj^-"-- If-"- Cornell University Library D 400.R13A3 1904 3 1924 027 845 035 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027845035 MY RECOLLECTIONS MY RECOLLECTIONS BY PRINCESS CATHERINE RADZIWILL LONDON: ISBISTER & COMPANY IS 6- 1 6 TAVISTOCK STREET, CO VENT GARDEN 1904 TO B. B. IN MEMOBY OF THE THIRTEENTH. PREFACE THIS book has no pretensions to be any- thing else but a simple narration of things I have seen, and descriptions of people I have met. It does not aspire to be considered as a volume of memoirs destined to clear up historical points of interest. It is merely a little book of recollections which perhaps may amuse those who have Uved through the same scenes, and moved in the same circles that I have done in various parts of Europe. Existence nowadays is such a rush that the events of yesterday are just as much forgotten as those of a century ago, and I dare say that very few men and women will be found who give a thought to what happened ten or twenty years ago. Everything changes so quickly that it has seemed to me it would be interesting to fix the remembrance of those last days of the century which so recently came to an end. The whole aspect of the poUtical and social world was then so entirely different from what it has become since the commanding personahty of Prince Bismarck was withdrawn from the stage of this world's affairs. vii PREFACE When I entered society, the German Empire had been scarcely three years in existence. France was writhing still in the convulsions of her late defeat; Russia was slowly trying to re- cover the many advantages of which the Crimean war had deprived her. Motor-cars were unknoAvn, electric light was still spoken of as something quite extraordinary, and the telephone was not yet one of the resources of civilisation. Manners, too, were different from those which prevail to-day. The hunt after notoriety had not transformed individuals into self-advertising per- sonages of a stamp which is only too familiar. Society was quieter, more sedate ; adventurers had still a bad time of it, and the American ele- ment had not altogether invaded us. Whilst I was writing this book, I often asked myself whether it was possible that I had lived in times so entirely different from the present. It is because society has altered that this book may amuse some people and bore others. The only merit I will claim for it is, that it is a true account of events of which I am cognisant. Personal feeling has played such an important part aUke in the German and Russian Courts that it is only by knowing people that one can understand pohtical incidents. I have tried to make the book just in its appreciation of indi- viii PREFACE viduals, and if I have wounded any suscepti- bilities such has been far from my intention. I have met with many kindnesses in the world, and after aU I have not found it such a bad one; perhaps because I have never asked much from it, having tried to practise the maxim of Beaumarchais, that it is better to laugh than to cry. I have come across bad people, of course, but I have also met characters such as those of the late Emperor and Empress Frederick, who alone would convince the greatest of misanthropes to acknowledge the more lofty claims of humanity. My book, I hope, wiU be accepted by its readers for what I have meant it to be — a tribute of gratitude to some people and of kind feelings to others. More than that it does not profess to be. CATHERINE RADZIWILL. London, August Vlth, 1904. IX CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. My Birth and Ancestry— The Family Curse— The Golden-Bearded Hetman— My Family Home— My Father and his First Wife— Korsoun— My Father's Brothers— A Dangerous Mission- Emperor Nicholas I.— A Family Ghost Story— The Empress Eug&ie— The New Emperor— 'The Burial Ground of the Czars '—My Father's Noble Character 1-21 CHAPTER H. My Aunts— Madame Lacroix' Deception— Her Salon— The Biblio- phile Jacob— M. de St Amand— Madame de Balzac— The True Story of the Balzacs -What is Happiness ?— The Hotel Balzac— L'Abb^ Constant— The Commune— 'Madame 'and 'Citoyenne' 32-38 CHAPTER ni. My Mother's Family— The Paschkoffs Reminiscence of the Polish Mutiny— Attempt on the Czar's Life— Character of Alexander U. The Beautiful Princess Dagmar — Franco-Prussian War — The Surrender of Sedan — In Paris after the Commune — I am Engaged to be Married— My Presentation at Court — My Wedding 39-60 CHAPTER IV. Berlin After the War— Emperor or King?— The Old Radziwill Palace — Family Parties — The Emperor William's First Love — I meet Von Moltke — My First State Dinner — Am Presented to the Empress — The Prince and Princess Charles — The Red Prince — A Court in Mourning^-' Un Cadeau de la Reine' — Entertainments at Court — The Beautiful Duchess of Man- chester — I dine with the Emperor 61-87 CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. FAOE The Real Emperor William I. — His Tact and Unselfishness as a Man — His Rapacity as a Sovereign — ^Relations with Bismarck — The Crown Prince Frederick contrasted with his Father — His Pride in the Empire — His Scruples — His Sympathy with me in my first great Soitow 88-105 CHAPTER VI. Prince Bismarck and the Kulturkampf—' Politique en jupons' — The Chancellor under-estimates the Folly of his Opponents — The Raddwill Palace as the Centre of Catholic Intrigue — Archbishop Ledochowski's Imprisonment — The Catholic Leaders, Mallinkrodt and Windthorst — Bismarck's Attitude towards the Crown Prince — and towards the Emperor — The Character of Princess Bismarck — Count Herbert — How the Iron Chancellor won his Way 106-183 CHAPTER VII. The Princess Victoria's Influence on Berlin Society — Lord Ampthill — ^The other Ambassadors — ^The Princess of Wales — A Story of the Russian Empress's Visit to England — Court Entertain- ments — Outbreak of the Russo-Turkish War — Skobeleff and Osman Pasha — An Incident of the Shipka Pass — The Treaty of San Stefano 134-140 CHAPTER VIII. A Double Royal Wedding — Prince Bismarck does not Dance — Hodel's Attempt on the Emperor William's Life — Nobiling's Crime— Days of Suspense — The Regency — Assembling of tte Berhn Congress — Lord Beaconsfield — Other Figures at the Con- gress — The Congress itself a Farce 141-164 CHAPTER IX. The King's Recovery— Marriage of Prince Henry of the Netherlands —The Difficult Position of the Regent— Emperor William's Return to Berlin— Enthusiasm at the Opera— The Crown Prince and Anti-Socialist Legislation — Herr Bebel — Death of the Princess AUce and of Prince Waldemar— The White Lady— The Emperor's Golden Wedding 155-166 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. The Growing Unpopularity of the Czar— His Treatment of the Empress— A Reign of Terror in St Petersburg— Death of the Empress — The Emperor Marries the Princess Dolgorouki — Assassination of Alexander H.— The Scene at the Death-bed— Alexander HI.— Count Ignatiev— I go to Constantinople . 167-180 CHAPTER XI. Stay at Constantinople— Different Sights— Life on the Bosphorus— Lord and Lady Dufferin— The Corps Diplomatique— Osman and Mukhtar Pachas— Departure for Russia . . . 181-189 CHAPTER Xn. My First Winter at St Petersburg— The Emperor Alexander HL and the Empress— Russian Society at the beginning of their Reign — General Ignatiev and his Struggle with General Tcherewine— The Zemski Sobor— Fall of Ignatiev— General Skobelefif and his Speeches— His Death in Moscow . 190-314 CHAPTER XIII. The Death of Madame de Balzac — Return to Berlin — Silver Wedding of the Crown Prince and Princess — Prince William of Prussia — The Coronation of the Emperor Alexander III. 215-236 CHAPTER XIV. A Few more Words about Moscow — The Beginning of the Bulgarian Trouble — Prince Bismarck and the Expulsion of Russian Subjects from Germany — Another Winter in Berlin — The Position of Prince William — Relations with his Father — The Marriage of the Grand Duke of Hesse — I receive a Message from Queen Victoria — Countess Schleinitz — A Summer in Dieppe — Death of Lord Ampthill — ^The Alexander Dumas — Death of Mme. Lacroix 237-2S1 CHAPTER XV. Brussels and Madame de Villeneuve — We spend a Part of the Winter in St. Petersburg— Death of Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia and of Field-Marshal von Manteuffel— The Appointment of his Successor — Various Intrigues— Death of Prince Orloff, Russian Ambassador in Berlin— The Celebration of Prince Bismarck's Seventieth Birthday 2SS-26S CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. PAGE Appointment of Count SchouwalofF as Russian Ambassador in Berlin — Our Dinner in his Honour— Its Consequences — The Marriage of M. Bernard von Bulow, the present German Chancellor— The Epidemic of Measles — I nearly Die from them — My Husband's Serious Illness — Last Interview with the Crown Prince — We are ordered to Egypt for my Husband's Health — Our Winter there — First Rumours about the Crown Prince's Dangerous State of Health 266-281 CHAPTER XVII. We return to Russia — The Emperor William's Death — The Begin- ning and End of a Reign — My Father's Death — We settle in St. Petersburg — The First Days of the Empress Frederick's Widowhood — St. Petersburg Society under Alexander III. — Bismarck's Fall — A Season in London — The Duke of York's Wedding 282-893 CHAPTER XVIII. The Winter of 1893-1894— Beginning of the Illness of Alexander III. — Our Journey to Italy — An Audience of Pope Leo XIII. — Cardinal Ledochowski — Another Summer in England — Death of Alexander III 294-306 CHAPTER XIX. The Emperor's Funeral — I see the Empress Frederick in Berlin — Her Appreciation of Events in Russia, and her Opinion of its future Empress's Character — Nicholas II.'s Marriage — Impres- sion produced in St. Petersburg by his Consort — Address of the Zemstwo of Twer — Death of General Tcherewine . 307-316 CHAPTER XX. Another Coronation — ^The Consolidation of the French Alliance — Nicholas II.'s Journey to Paris — Prince Bismarck's Death — I spend a Winter on the Riviera — My Last Interview with the Empress Frederick — The Beginning of the End . 317-328 CHAPTER XXI. Cecil Rhodes — An Appreciation — Cecil Rhodes' Character — A Man of Moods— His Colossal Ambition — His Satellites — Personal Relations — His Last Hours — His Inner Thoughts — His Conduct during the War 329-346 MY RECOLLECTIONS CHAPTER I. My Birth and Ancestry — TTie Family Curse — TTie Golden- bearded Hetrrum — My Family Home — My Father amd his First Wife — Korsmm — My Father's Brothers — A Dan- gerous Mission — Emperor Nicholas I. — A Family Ghost Story — The Empress Eughde — 77ie New Emperor — TAc Burial-grownd of the Czars'' — My Father's Noble Character. I WAS born on the 30th of March, 1858, in St. Petersburg. My father. Count Adam Rzewuski, belonged to one of the oldest, and most illustrious families of Poland. One of his aunts had been the wife of King Stanislas Leszczinski (not Leczinski, as the French generally speU it), the father of the consort of Louis XV. His great- grandfather is remembered to this day as one of the heroes of PoUsh History ; he was among the few nobles whom Catherine II, of Russia com- plimented by having them seized one night and carried off to Siberia, so thoroughly did she fear their opposition to her favourite. King Stanislas Poniatowski. One of my ancestors had besieged the Kremlin at Moscow, and taken it by storm at the time of the false Demetrius, during the reign of King Sigismimd Augustus. Another had died from wounds received at the famous siege of Vienna by Kara Mustapha. He was a personal friend of King John Sobieski, and he left behind 1 B MY RECOLLECTIONS him the memory of a great name and an un- blemished reputation. We came of a strong, clever, brave race, famous for personal courage and re- markable intelligence; indeed there is a proverb which says 'the wit of a Rzewuski,' just as one speaks in France of 'I'esprit des Mortemart,' but we were never a lucky or a happy race. The shadow of a curse lay upon us — a, curse which like the secret of the Strathmores has been transmitted from father to son, and darkened the lives of all those who bore our name. Tradition says that in bygone days a Rzewuski walled up his mother ahve in one of the towers of their old castle, and that she cursed aU their descendants, and pro- phesied for them iU luck in all they would attempt to do, and either a violent or a sudden death. The prediction has been strangely fulfilled, for scarcely a member of my family has died in his or her bed, and certainly misfortune has dogged their footsteps. Gifted with singular personal beauty, with the rarest qualities of heart and mind, they have never known what happiness was, and led, most of them, mise- rable Uves. One of my aunts was a friend of the iU-fated Queen Marie Antoinette, and like her, perished on the scaffold. People say that as she was about to be seized by the executioner, she turned round, and facing the angry crowd for the last time, shouted out in a loud voice, 'Vive la Reine I ' Her daughter, rescued later on by my grand- father, married her cousin, Wenceslas Rzewuski, who also met with a strange fate. He was one 2 A FAMILY ROMANCE of the leaders of the great Polish mutiny of the year 1830, and disappeared mysteriously during the battle of Daszow. A legend says he made his escape to the East, and lived there for many years in the moimtains of Libanus. He had been before that a great traveller in Syria and an admirer of Lady Hester Stanhope, and among his family papers my father had curious letters from her addressed to the golden-bearded Hetman, as he is called to this day in Little Russia, where minstrels stiU wander, singing ballads about him and his exploits. His sword was picked up on the battlefield by a Russian officer, who was killed himself at the siege of Sevastopol, and when dying gave it to my father, who always looked upon it as one of his most precious possessions. It bears the following inscription in Polish : ' Sewerin Rzewuski, second Hetman of the Republic, son of Wenceslas Rzewuski, great Hetman of the Re- public, grandson of Stanislas Rzewuski, great Het- man of the Republic, gives this sword to his son and comrade Wenceslas Sewerin, for the defence of faith and liberty.' What became of the owner of the weapon no one knows, and he rests in his unconsecrated grave, far away from aU his kindred, from all those he loved and who loved him. He left three sons: the youngest entered the Russian service and was killed in the Caucasus. The eldest, Stanislas, was at one time a candidate for the throne of Belgium, and died from a fall from his horse. The only one who survived sold the old family castle to Prince Sanguszko in the hope, 8 MY RECOLLECTIONS he said, of doing away with the curse, and it is still one of the show places of Poland. The bones of our murdered ancestress were, it seems, found by him, during some reparations done to the walls, but how far this is true I know not. My father was always very touchy on the point, and never liked to hear it mentioned in his presence. He had quarrelled with his cousin in consequence of this sale, the latter having refused to dispose of the property to one of his own family in spite of their having repeatedly made him offers to buy it, and though they made it up at last, yet relations be- tween them were never very cordial. I don't remem- ber having seen my uncle, though I have a very faint remembrance of his mother, my aunt Rosahe, the daughter of Marie Antoinette's friend. She died in 1865, and I was taken to see her a year before that at Warsaw, where she lived, and where she occupied a position almost regal in its importance. She was a tall, thin old woman, with piercing eyes, and a wig which deeply impressed my childish imagination. She had been a great friend of my mother's, in spite of the disparity in their ages, and I found among the latter's papers a great number of letters from her which told me a good deal about our family history. She had an immense reputation for cleverness, and was perhaps more feared than liked. Her only daughter, Calixte, married the Duke of Sermoneta, and was the mother of the present holder of the title, the hus- band of the once lovely Miss Wilbraham. She died young, regretted by all who knew her, leaving 4 A GRAND SEIGNEUR behind her the sweet remembrance of one of those beings almost too perfect for this world. Her son has inherited a great deal of her personal charm and good looks, and he is undoubtedly one of the few very clever men Italy can boast of at the present time. The Duchess of Sermoneta and her brother were the last representatives of the elder branch of our house. It is now extinct, and my father with his sisters were the only survivors of all that generation. He was himself the second son of the last ambassador the Polish Republic sent to London and to Copenhagen, where his portrait may be seen in the public picture gallery. My grandfather must have been a remarkably hand- some man; his face and figure appear singularly expressive as they detach themselves from the canvas. The eyes have a dreamy expression, and the smile a mixture of mockery and moum- fulness, which makes it strangely attractive. It is the image of a grand Seigneur of the olden times, and the haughtiness one sees behind the grace of the attitude, makes one realise and under- stand the character of a man who, if we are to believe the reputation he left behind him, was always faithful to the motto of his race, ' Offend not, and do not forgive offences.' Our family has always played a great part in pontics ; since the fifteenth century my ancestors' names figure in all the important events and crises which finally led to the partition of Poland. As unfortunately was but too often the case in that country, they were often divided amongst them- 6 MY RECOLLECTIONS selves, and one brother was fighting on one side whilst the other gave his adherence to the opposite party. My great-uncle, the grandfather of the Duchess of Sermoneta, was one of the nobles who signed the famous confederation of Targowice, which practi- cally gave up the country, to the Russians, He was naturally hated by his countrymen, but subsequent events have proved that he was right, and had his advice been followed the Republic might have preserved a good many of its Uberties, and acquired a strength it sadly needed. But as is usually the case with the wise he was not listened to, and to this day his pohtical rdle is not understood by many people. His brother, who in opposition to him was one of the members of the Confederation of Bar, married an heiress, the daughter of Prince Michael RadziwUl, and of the last descendant of the famous Prince Jeremiah Wiszniowiecki. She brought into our family the old fortress which had been stormed at such sacrifice of human life by the bloody Prince. It stands to this day almost in the same condition as it did at the time of the great Cossack rebellion, which he crushed so ruthlessly, only the drawbridges have been replaced by per- manent ones, and the ditches are planted with flowers and shrubs. But there is still standing an old pavilion which was used as a gunpowder magazine; under the long old house exist under- ground passages leading to the open plain, and in the park may be seen a brick column erected on the spot where Prince Jeremiah caused three hundred Cos- sacks to be put to the stake in one day. The place 6 MY FATHER reeks with blood, and everywhere may be seen the traces of the terrible struggle which so very nearly saw the end of the Polish Republic. It has got the traditional ghost or ghosts, and under the vault of the church all my ancestors sleep their last slum- ber. There rests my father, with his brothers and parents ; there lie all those who have given or added something towards the reputation of our race. We are all devoted to this home of ours ; we all remem- ber the days when as children we used to run in those old rooms, and look curiously upon the old pictures of the men and women whose example we were told to follow. My father was an exceedingly proud man — one who loved to look back upon the heroic deeds of those whose blood ran in his veins. He also was un homme d'autrefois, with a certain amount of prejudice, but gifted with unusual courage, and perfectly fearless as regards the opinions of the world. He was born at the very beginning of last century, on Christmas Eve, 1801. Brought up first at the Jesuit College of Lemberg, then at the Military Academy at Vienna, he entered quite young the Austrian military service, which, how- ever, he very soon left, and in 1821 was admitted as officer in a Russian cavalry regiment. His father died in 1825, and in virtue of an arrange- ment with his elder brother, who did not care to take upon himself the burden of heavily encum- bered family estates, he came into possession of the old home of his race. He fought brilliantly in the Turkish campaign of 1828, was wounded, and 7 MY RECOLLECTIONS upon his return married a lady twenty-two years older than himself, who held an immense position at the Russian Court, and, if we are to believe the letters of Princess Lieven, was at one time the flame of the Emperor Alexander I., Madame Gerebtsoff, born Princess Lapoukhyn, the sister of that Prince Lapoukhyn, who was the husband of the beautiful Madame d'Alopeus, of the ' R^cit d'une Soeur ' fame. Madame GerebtsofF was gifted with unusual loveliness, to which her portraits which I have seen abundantly testify. She was also a most clever woman, who through her tact suc- ceeded in neither making herself nor her husband ridiculous, which would have been easy con- sidering the disparity in their ages. My father certainly owed to her the brilliant career he made, and he used always to say that she was the woman he had loved the most in his life. They had one daughter, who died young, but with her first husband Madame Gerebtsoff had had a girl one year older than my father, who, at the time of her mother's marriage, was herself the wife of Count (afterwards Prince) Orloff, the famous favourite of the Emperor Nicholas I., and one of the signatories of the Paris Treaty, whose son was afterwards for so many years Ambassador to the third Republic. I remember old Princess Orloff when I was a little gu-1. She had settled permanently at Florence, and there she died in 1876 or 1877. She was a formidable old lady, very clever, and who could be amiable when she liked. Her relations with my father remained always cordial, though stiff. 8 MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD He had behaved with extreme delicacy in money matters after his wife's death, and both Princess Orloff and her husband showed themselves grate- ful, but my father, strange to say for a man of his •character, stood always a little in awe of his step- daughter, and, as far as I can remember, never felt quite at his ease in her presence ; she was the only person who could cow him, and I have never been able to make out whether it was em- barrassment or the memory of his dead wife which used to influence his behaviour towards the Prin- cess. The old Prince I never saw — he died when I was quite a baby ; but I can conjure to my mind one of Madame GerebtsofTs sisters. Countess Koutaissoff, and can just remember having been taken to Korsoun, the country seat of the Lapoukhyns, and having been petted by a very old lady, who I was told was the mother of Alexandrine de La Ferronays. The circumstance which impressed her on my childish mind, was that in order to be shown to her I had been kept out of bed until eleven o'clock at night, which was the only time she appeared, having the strange habit of sleeping the whole day, and only getting up when everybody else was thinking of doing the reverse. She and her husband used to live in almost kingly state on their magnificent estate — one of the show places of Southern Russia. It has now passed into the possession of a nephew of the old Prince, who has been allowed to resuscitate the title, but the briUiant days of Korsoxm are no more, and pro- bably will never be revived 9 MY RECOLLECTIONS It is when I think of all these links with a past which has already become a part of history that I realise how old I am, and how very little I have got to do with the present generation. All these people whose doings and sayings formed part of my childish days, are forgotten even by their own descendants, and in telling their story it is hard for me to believe I am also relating my own. My father had two brothers. The elder. Count Henry Rzewuski, has made for himself a name as one of the most famous authors of fiction of his time in Poland. His novels, historical ones, in the style of Sir Walter Scott's, are to the present day almost as popular as Scott's ; he also wrote a few French books, but these were not of the first rank, and are now forgotten. One of them was the story of our family curse, and I remember once a discus- sion my father had with his brother on the subject, when I heard for the first time the words which since that day have been so often repeated in my presence whenever a new misfortune happened to one of our family, ' We owe this again to the "Kunicka,"' this being the maiden name of our dreaded ancestress. My uncle Henry was one of the wittiest men in his country; there are innumerable sajdngs of his which have become pubUc property, and which are quoted whenever the occasion arises. He died at a very advanced age in 1867; he was about fifteen or twenty years older than my father, and, consequently, all my remembrances 10 LINKS WITH THE PAST of him are those of a very old man, walking- with great difficulty. He had an immense head, piercing eyes, with bushy eyebrows, and a gene- rally unkempt appearance. Between him and my father there existed a great affection, although they were always quarrelling upon one subject or another. My uncle was the only ugly member of a singularly handsome fanuly ; my father, on the contrary, was one of the best-looking men of his time, and when the two brothers found nothing else to nag about, they used to start a discussion, about the influence beauty has or has not on the lives of men. As they were both most brilliant talkers, it was intensely amusing to listen to their conversations, which I only regret I was too young- to appreciate as they ought to have been. My uncle died from heart disease quite sud- denly, at the last, though he had been ill for a. long time. He left no son, only two daughters, one of whom became the mother of that lovely Madame de Kolemine, whose marriage with the Grand Duke of Hesse, followed as it was the next day by a divorce,- made such a stir at the time it happened. I shall have a good deal to say^ about it later on. My father's younger brother, who, if not quite so brilliant as the other members of the family, was nevertheless a very clever man, died in the early sixties. I don't remember having seen much of him; but his son, who perished during the Turkish campaign of 1877-78, was a frequent visitor at our house. He left no male pos- 11 MY RECOLLECTIONS terity, so I will have nothing further to say about him, except that he had the reputation of being one of the handsomest men, as well as one of the bravest ofl&cers, in the Czar's service. To come back to my father, I will say that after his marriage with Madame Gerebtsoff he settled in St. Petersburg, and in a very short time became not only a general favourite in society, but also of the Emperor Nicholas I., who, up to his death, reposed in him the greatest con- fidence, and several times entrusted him with missions of importance abroad. During the Polish mutiny of 1830 my father Tvas aide-de-camp to Field -Marshal Diebitch, in command of the Russian army. At one time the position of the Russian troops was most critical. The Army Corps commanded by General Rudiger Tvas completely cut oiF from its communication with headquarters, and the insurgents commanded by General Dwernicki caught every one of the officers sent by the Field-Marshal with orders to General Rudiger. The situation was becoming very serious, when Count Diebitch sent for my father, and, after warning him that were he to be taken prisoner, it would not mean for him capti- vity but death, on account of his PoUsh nationality, he asked him whether he would undertake to cross the Unes of the insurgents, and transmit verbal orders to the invested General. My father at once accepted the mission, and, disguising himself as a pedlar, succeeded after three weeks, in making his way through the whole of the Polish army without 12 POLAND IN 1830 being recognised, and, reaching General Rudiger, gave him the information which allowed the latter to take once more the offensive, and to join the headquarters, with the result that Dwernicki, to- gether with Ramorino, another leader of the mutineers, was compelled to seek refuge across the Austrian frontier, and to lay down their arms there. I have often heard my father relate the details of this adventurous journey, during which he risked his life the whole time ; for there is little doubt he would have met with no mercy at the hands of the Poles. His name would have singled him out for a swift retribution. This daring deed had, I believe, much to do with the ultimate success of his career, though he would never himself own it was the case, and it had a sequel, which I must relate, as it honours my father just as much as it does that much-caluminated sovereign, the Emperor Nicholas I. It is not generally known that he was pas- sionately attached to his PoUsh army, and not only did he keenly feel the treason with which his good intentions were repaid, but he was particularly incensed at the fact of his former troops having sought refuge in Austria, instead of trusting to his own generosity. When the mutiny was at last sup- pressed he had the colours of the few regiments who had not been able to cross the frontier put up in the Kremlin at Moscow, with an inscription sajdng that these were the flags of the traitorous Polish army, who had broken all its oaths to its sovereign. My father happened to hear of this 13 MY RECOLLECTIONS intention of the Emperor's a few days before it was actually executed, and he wrote to him a letter begging him to reconsider his decision, and not to give way to his resentment in a manner which would harm him before history and pos- terity. It was a beautiful letter, full of feeling and respect for his sovereign, but at the same time •one of the most daring epistles that has ever been addressed by a subject to a monarch. After making an allusion to his own fidelity to his oath, he «nded with the words, ' I beg your Majesty not to suUy his glory by an act of mean revenge, and "to remember that it is preferable for a sovereign to have on his brow a stain of blood than one of mud.' I will repeat the words in French, as they are more expressive, and convey their meaning better than in an English translation: 'Je sup- pUe Votre Majestd de se souvenir qu'U est parfois pr^f^rable pour un Souverain d'avoir sur son front une t§,che de sang qu'une t§,che de boue.' If one .Temembers what kind of monarch was Nicholas, and at what time that letter was written, one can only marvel at the courage of a young man in thus addressing him ; but the Emperor was one of these .generous souls who understand nobility and generosity in others. He rose to the occasion, and sent the letter to my father's wife, with the remark, ' Je vous renvoie la lettre de votre mari, Madame; comme Souverain je devrais punir, comme ami, je veux oublier.' Few historical personages have been more maligned than the Emperor Nicholas, and to me, 14 THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS who have had the opportunity to hear the truth, it is often a wonder to read and listen to all the lies that are told about him. In reality the Emperor was one of the most generous of men, and he was simply worshipped by all those who had ever had anything to do with him. I will describe in another book life at the court of that northern potentate, and how different it was from what is com- monly known about it. The anecdote I have just related will perhaps change some people's minds about the great-grandfather of my present sovereign. During this same 'Polish campaign a curious adventure befell my father, which perhaps will in- terest aU lovers of the supernatural. In order to make people understand it, I must say that one of my ancestors, the same one who was seized and thrown into captivity by the great Catherine, had died and been buried in a little town in the kingdom of Poland called Chelm. The condition of the country was so troubled at the time that it was not possible to convey the body to the family burial- ground. Now, on the eve of the battle of Grochow, one of the important engagements of the war, my father, who in the meanwhile had been promoted to the command of the Cuirassier Regiment of Prince Albert of Prussia, was asleep in his tent and dreamed that he saw an old man, whom he recog- nised from the pictures he had seen to be his great- grandfather, enter his tent. He noticed that he wore the old Polish dress, with yellow boots worn out at the toes. The ghost, if one may call it by 15 MY RECOLLECTIONS that name, sat down beside his bed, and told him he was his ancestor, and that the vault in which he was buried had that very night been broken open by the mutineers, and his body taken out of its coffin and put against the wall. He added that my father was to go to Chelm and to bring it to the family grave to be reburied there, and also to erect two crosses in memory of the event, one in the park, and another in a spot which he carefully in- dicated at the turning of the high road leading to the house on the family property. He added that my father would be wounded the next day. Well, that next day the battle took place, and my father was shot in the leg. He was ill for a long time, and, it must be owned, forgot all about his dream. More than ten years later he happened to be at Chelm with the Emperor for some manoeuvres, and curiosity led him to the church. It had been closed ever since the mutiny, but my father insisted upon the vault being opened for him, and when he entered it he saw his grandfather's body standing erect against the wall, in the very dress and the same worn-out boots he had seen him in, on the night of his dream. He had the body removed and buried it on his estate, and the two crosses stand to this day as a commemoration of an event which, to say the very least, must be called singular. After the mutiny my father hardly ever left the Emperor. He was appointed to be in special at- tendance upon him, and this distinction, which was quite apart from that of General Adjutant, which he 16 THE EMPRESS EUGENIE got later on, has been shared with very few people in Russia. When the Sultan Abdul Medjid ascended the throne, my father was sent as a special ambas- sador to congratulate him on his accession, and at the same time was entrusted with the mission of going on to Egypt and stopping with a threat of Russian intervention Mehemet Ali from continuing his march on Constantinople. Later on he took part in the Hungarian campaign, and was selected to convey to the town of Moscow the news of the final victory of the Russian troops. In 1851 he went to Spain on a diplomatic mission with a view of re-establishing relations between the Russian Government and that of Queen Isabella. In the correspondence of Count Raczynski, then Prussian Minister at the Coiurt of Madrid, with Donoso Cortes, which was pubUshed a few years ago, curious details are given about my father's arrival and stay in the Spanish capital. He remained there rather longer than he intended at first, and among the souvenirs he carried away from this journey were a Madonna by Murillo, which was given to him by the Queen, and — dearer still — the remem- brance of a most lovely girl to whom he entirely lost his heart, and who, a few years later, occupied the attention of the world when she married the Emperor of the French. I have often heard my father speak of the Empress Eugdnie, and the extraordinary impression her supreme loveliness produced on all those who saw her. He had been very much struck with her cleverness as well as with the brilliancy of her 17 c MY RECOLLECTIONS conversation, and used always to maintain that her intelligence equalled, if not surpassed, her beauty. When the disaster of Sedan put an end to the worldly career of the Countess de Teba, and when later on the Prince Imperial feU in Zululand, my father was strangely moved, and for some time could neither speak nor think of anjrthing else. 'Poor Empress I poor Empress 1' he used to say, 'how will she bear it?' Madame Gerebtsoff died about that time, a few months, I think, before my father's mission to Madrid, though I am not quite sure about the date. She was ill for long weeks, and I have often heard my grandmother speak of the devotion with which her husband nursed her, adding that it had encou- raged her to allow my mother to marry him, in spite of the disparity in their ages and the dif- ference in their religions. I shall speak later on of my mother, and her family. My father married her in 1853 ; she was one of the loveliest women at the Russian Court, and at the Coronation of the Emperor Alexander II. was considered the most beautiful one among all those who attended it. During her short married life the Crimean war took place, and in its early stages my father was in command of a division at Eupatoria. -He was, however, soon recalled and appointed Military Governor of St. Petersburg. It was whilst he was occupying this position that the Emperor Nicholas died ; and with his disap- pearance my father's career came virtually to an end. He was never liked by Alexander II., and did not 18 ALEXANDER II. escape the fate which overtakes all the favourites of a reign when it passes away. He was given one more command during the second Polish mutiny of 1863, but very soon after that he retired from active service and settled on his estates in the south of Russia, where he died on Palm Sunday, the 17th of April, 1888. The Emperor Alexander II. had never liked him, and never forgiven his independence of speech nor a certain reply he had made to him on a memorable occasion. It was after the last Polish rebellion. Harsh measures were adopted by the Government against the landowners of the South Provinces who had either taken part in, or sympa- thised with the insurrection. A deputation went to St. Petersburg to present an address to the sovereign, begging for clemency. My father was asked to head it, to which he consented. Some mischievous person, with the intention of harming him, told the Emperor he meant to make a speech. At the same time he was himself warned that the sovereign did not wish him to do so. The depu- tation was introduced into the Imperial presence ; my father read the address, after which ensued a painful silence, each party waiting for the other to speak. At last Alexander II., growing impatient, seized my father by the arm, and leading him to the window, whence could be seen the golden spires of the fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul, where at that time political prisoners were confined, he exclaimed in a threatening tone, 'Rzewuski, do you see ?' ' Yes, your Majesty,' was my father's cool reply, ' the burial-ground of the Czars.' The 19 MY RECOLLECTIONS Emperor dropped his arm, but it was a long time before he would speak to him again. I have perhaps lingered too long over all these anecdotes concerning my father, but I woiJd have liked to be able to give to my readers a just idea of the qualities which made of him such a remarkable personaUty. Very few people are now ahve who remember him, and I think it a great pity that before his death he destroyed the very curious memoirs he had written, which certainly would have thrown a new light on the reign of the Emperor Nicholas. My father was not only clever, he was also a chevalier sans peur et sans reproche, incapable of a mean act, always brave, always ready to defend the weak, to help the distressed. His kindness surpassed anything I have ever seen ; he was never weary of helping others, and used his great position for the good of many who afterwards repaid him with the vilest ingratitude. And yet he was disliked by many people. His independence, the fearlessness with which he used to express his opinions, made him dreaded by high and low. He did not spare on his side those whom he disUked, and the sharpness of his tongue often wounded when it was not necessary. He had a marvellous self-control and a ready wit, that always took his opponents unawares. This, combined with a cer- tain haughtiness, which in spite of the extreme courtesy that was one of his characteristics, he could not quite subdue, helped to make him un- popular with a certain class of people. As some one once remarked, ' Rzewuski will always shake 20 COUNT RZEWUSKI hands with you, but then he has got such a d d way of making you feel that he is going to wash them afterwards.' The words were true, and they explain certain animosities which pursued my father during his whole life, and even after his death. But friends or foes, all those who ever met him recognised his immense intelligence, and the extraordinary insight he had into poUtics, as well as the great learning which made him one of the most remarkable personages of his time. It would be hard to meet a man whose conversation was brighter or more instructive, whose knowledge was more uni- versal, or whose powers of assimilation were greater. Everything interested him ; with every person he came into contact, no matter how dull he or she might be, he found a subject of conversation. He was an attractive man, a clever man ; and he was also something better than either, he was a good man. 21 CHAPTER II. My Aunts — Madame Lacroix' Deception — Her Salon — The Bibliophile Jacob — M. de St. Amamd — Madame de Balzac — The True Story of the Balzacs — What is Happiness? — The Hotel Balzac — LAbbe Constant — The Comnrnne — ' Madame '' amd ' Citoyewne,'' I HAD four aunts, all of them beautiful, all of them clever — one extraordinarily so, and all of them women who made their mark in the world. One of them was a favourite of the celebrated Madame de Krudener, and made society ring with the fame of her loveliness at the beginning of last century. She was the eldest of her whole family, and treated my father as if he were still a Uttle boy. She had married three times, buried one husband, divorced the second, and led the life of the grandes dames of the eighteenth century who loved so well and so often. After the Revolution of 1848 she settled permanently in Paris, and married a French author, M. Jules Lacroix, the brother of the famous Bibliophile Jacob. There is an amusing anecdote connected with that marriage. At the time it took place my aunt was far advanced in the sixties, but she had kept her good looks in such an extra- ordinary way that one could easily have taken her for a woman of forty. At the time she was born, registers were kept very slackly in Poland, and most of them were destroyed during the civil wars. 22 A FRENCH SALON My aunt could not produce her birth certificate when she was married to M, Lacroix, and had to replace it by a declaration as to her age and parentage. A few months after her marriage she became seriously ill, and her life was despaired of. They sent for a clergyman, who was going to administer the last rites of the Church to her, when she called her husband to her bedside, ex- claiming, 'Jules, Jules, I cannot die in peace; I have deceived you !' My uncle, who it must be said, was as much in love with his wife as if she had been a girl of eighteen, was horrified, but nevertheless entreated her to be calm. But nothing would pacify her. ' Jules, Jules,' she went on, ' I have deceived you: I am ten years older than I told you ! ' One of my cousins, who was present at the scene, was wicked enough to burst out laughing in spite of the tragical circumstances. Madame Caroline Lacroix was one of the nota- bilities of Paris ; she had a salon which was as celebrated in its way as those of Madame Re- camier or Madame Swetchine, and one was sure to meet at her house all the remarkable men and all the beautiful women, not only of France but of Europe. She was a brilliant conversationalist, was quite as attractive in the last years of her life as during her younger days, and people were as eager to hear her talk as they had formerly been anxious to feast their eyes upon her beauty. She was pas- sionately fond of society, was never happy imless she had seen about twenty persons during the day, gave dinners which were as admirable from a culi- 23 MY RECOLLECTIONS nary point of view, as they were pleasant on account of the society one met at them. Her apartments, No. 22 Rue d'Anjou St. Honord, were the rendezvous of literary people as well as of political personages, of journalists, and of finan- ciers. She was always eager for new acquaintances, always desirous of adding to the number of her friends. For thirty years she held a most despotic sway on a certain circle of Paris society, and when she died it was quite an event among those who for years had come to her house for news, when for nothing else. She retained her good looks, as well as all the freshness of her mind, until the last. She was the type of a grande dame of the eighteenth century, always beautifiilly dressed, with long flowing gowns of velvet or satin, wrapped up in old and priceless laces, sitting up erect in her chair with a figure which might have put to shame many a young girl. She had remained in Paris during the whole of the siege, and my father once got a letter from her which had been sent by a carrier pigeon, in which she said that the only thing she found hard was to be obliged to eat what she characterised as 'horrible things' {des horreurs). She died on the 15th of July, 1885, after an illness of three months, during which she struggled with death with all the energy of a much younger per- son. She had broken her right arm about a year before, and in spite of the doctors' predictions that she would not be able to use it any more, she made a wonderful recovery and could write letters 24 MADAME LACROIX six weeks after the accident. In one word she was aa extraordinary old lady, marvellous not only by her intelligence, but also by the interest she kept ta the very last in all the gaieties as well as in all the important events of the world. She had also a^ wonderful memory, and used to relate anecdotes and describe people who long before had either entered into the domain of history, or else been forgotten by the world in which they had played a prominent part. My aunt had met Alexander I, of Russia, had conversed with the great Napoleon,, could remember the marriage of Marie Louise and the birth of the King of Rome, had been present at the Opera the night that the Duke of Berri was assassinated, later on had watched Louis PhiUppe escape from the Tuileries, and had witnessed the entry of the Empress Eugdnie at Notre Dame, on the day which saw the Imperial Crown of France put on her head. She had been in correspondence with Mazzini, had entertained Madame de Castiglione, and reckoned among her friends the Princess Lieven as well as the Duke of Momy. I don't think there was one person in Europe worth knowing that she did not know, one celebrity that had not sat at her hospitable boards When she died she was far advanced in the nine- ties, and she was a living encyclopaedia of aU the famous or clever men and women of her century. Among the people whom one used to meet constantly at her house was her brother-in-law, the bibliophile Jacob, that amiable old man wh» was such a well-known member of Paris society. 26 MY RECOLLECTIONS He was the librarian at the Arsenal, and used to Jive in the old house of Sully, buried among his books, and always ready to show them to the curious visitor. One of the most brilliant talkers of his time, it was a delight to listen to him, and to hear him discuss one thing or another. After the war, however, he retired from society. He was an ardent Bonapartist, and at a time when ■every one was more or less turning their backs upon the unfortunate Emperor and his family, he re- mained true to them, and never left off proclaiming his allegiance to their cause. Personally, I am indebted to the bibliophile for the first encourage- ment I ever got to try my hand at literary work. Another Bonapartist who often dined at my aunt's, Tvas the charming Baron de St. Amand, whose death a few years ago was a great source of regret to his numerous friends. M. de St. Amand was ximiabihty itself, and if slightly superficial in his talk, he never left off being delightful. He had col- lected a number of anecdotes, and was never weary ■of relating them. I think that, with the Countess Xavier de Blacas, he was the last survivor of the group of people whom one used to meet almost daily at my aunt's. I have often talked with him about her since her death, and we always agreed in the opinion that the present generation has no great ladies of the type which she represented so "well, and with such dignity. Very different from my aunt Caroline was her sister, Madame de Balzac, the widow of the cele- brated novelist, whose influence on French litera- 26 MADAME DE BALZAC ture is still so powerful. The correspondence "which has been published has made her a familiar £gure to the public, but though it has revealed to the world the passion which one of the greatest men who have ever left their impress on the literary tendencies of their country, as well as of their century, had for her during long years, I ■doubt whether it has given any real knowledge as to her moral worth to those who have not had the privilege of meeting her. She has gone down to posterity as the woman whom Balzac loved, whilst she deserved to have been known as the one being to whom he was indebted for the develop- ment of his marvellous genius, and also as his collaborator in many of his works. For instance, the novel called Modeste Mignon is almost entirely "written by her pen, and certainly some of her illustrious husband's best books have had some- thing or other added to them by her hand. When Balzac wrote to Madame Hanska, as she was at that time called, the famous letter in which he used those remarkable words, which are the best description of love that has been ever given : ' With you moral satiety does not exist ; what I tell you now is a great thing — it is the secret of happiness,' he only expressed in eloquent terms what every one who knew my aunt felt from the very first, and that was the fact that they stood in the presence of quite an exceptional being. Madame de Balzac was perhaps not so brilliant in conversation as were her brothers and sisters. Her mind had some- thing pedantic about it, and she was rather a good 27 MY RECOLLECTIONS listener than a good talker, but whatever she said was to the point, and she was eloquent with her pen. Among the innumerable letters from her which I possess, either addressed to myself or my mother, there is not one which would not deserve to be printed. Political appreciations written at the time of the Crimean war, are almost prophetic in their utterances. She had that large glance only given to superior minds which allows them, accor- ding to the words of Catherine of Russia, ' to read the future in the history of the past.' She observed everjrthing, was indulgent to every one. She had learned the truth of the old axiom, ' One must understand all, in order to forgive all.' My aunt had forgiven, and learned the hard lesson of life without being in the least embittered by it. Her large and lofty mind had risen above the vice, fret, and wretchedness of earth, until it had reached those higher regions of peace where one rests in the supreme indifference to the judgments of society, which a clear conscience alone can give. Her marriage with Balzac had so much of romance in it, that I feel tempted to relate it, if only to correct the many untruths that have been written about it. My aunt, who had been married whilst a mere child to a man much older than herself, but possessed of immense wealth, lived a very retired life in the country, and hardly ever left Russia. Almost isolated, thrown on the com- panionship of a man certainly inferior to her in every way in spite of his solid qualities, she sought refuge in study and reading, in order to forget the 28 MADAME DE HANSKA secret disappointments she did not care to own. She had all kinds of books sent to her, and one day she received one of Balzac's first novels; I don't remember now which of them it was. She was so impressed with it, that she wrote to the author enclosing a criticism of the work, and sent it on to his publisher. Balzac was so struck in his turn with her letter that he replied to her, and jfrom that day they corresponded without having ever met for several years. At last they met at Geneva, and the admiration which the novelist had conceived for Madame Hanska's intellect was extended to her person. He went to see her at her Russian home, and spent months in that distant place. The house passed later on into my father's hands, who bought it from his niece the Countess Mniszech, to whom it had reverted after M. Hanska's death. The rooms which Balzac occu- pied are stUl left in the same condition they were in when the novelist used to occupy them. His portrait painted by Boulanger, of which mention is so often made in his correspondence, is hanging on the wall, the last memento of one of the great love romances of the world. I have often stood and gazed at it, and wondered at the incidents of this romance, but my aunt never liked to hear the subject mentioned, though she was passionately devoted to the memory of her illustrious husband. When Madame Hanska became a widow it seemed as if nothing could prevent her from marry- ing Balzac, but, as is usual in such cases, other people interfered. Her family did not wish her 29 MY RECOLLECTIONS to ally herself to a personage who, according to their aristocratic prejudices, was nothing but a French novel-writer. Pecuniary considerations were put forward, and people began attributing sordid mo- tives to Balzac. The struggle lasted for a few years, and then my aunt put an end to it by giving up all the great fortune, of which she had the disposal under her husband's wiU, to her daughter, who in the meantime had married Count George Mniszech. After this sacrifice she was united to the man of her choice, and thus ended 'this beautiful heart drama,' to use Balzac's own words, 'which had lasted seventeen years.' Six months later he died, and my aunt found herself for the second time a widow, with the burden of her husband's large debts and that of his great name which she bore with such dignity for thirty years longer. She never spoke of the blow his death had been to her. She must have felt it deeply, and she would not have been human if she had not cherished resentment against those whose opposition to her wishes had robbed her of some years of happiness ; but if this was the case she never let any one guess it. Once only I heard her make a remark which gave me a strange in- sight into her inner life. We were talking about happiness in general, and I observed how very eager people were to interfere with that of their neighbours. My aunt looked at me for some time, then slowly said: 'I think that this comes from the fact that so very few people understand what real happiness is; they mostly look upon it as 30 A COUNSEL OF PERFECTION a superficial thing, and treat it with that light- heartedness they apply to all the other enjoyments of existence. If they understood and realised what it really means to those who consider hfe in its true and serious light, they would respect it more. If I had my way I would bring children up to respect happiness just as one brings them up to respect religion. I would teach them that it must be reverenced as we do all religions, even those we do not belong to.' I have often echoed my aunt's remark, and thought how much better humanity would be if it were educated according to the principle she had laid down on that day. Madame de Balzac never left Paris after her husband's death, except to spend the summer at a property she had near Villeneuve St. George, called Beauregard. She had become very infirm and immensely stout. All traces of the beauty for which she had been renowned in her youth had disappeared, but the incomparable charm, which had fascinated the author of the Comedie Humaine, never left her. Her family, who stood more or less in awe of her, treated her with great respect and consideration. Her house was a meeting-place where aU events relating to the welfare of her kindred were discussed. We all of us had a great opinion of the soundness of her judgments, and liked to consult her in any of our difiiculties or embarrassments. She was always indulgent, even when severe, and Aunt Evelyn, as we used to call her, was our refuge 31 MY RECOLLECTIONS in many a sad hour, and a comforter in many a struggle when heart and duty were divided. We felt instinctively that she had sacrificed so much to what she considered to have been her duty, Ihat she was the best person to point out where it reaUy lay to those who were hesitating as to the path they ought to enter upon. My father, who was absolutely devoted to his sister, never failed to ^consult her whenever he was in doubt as to what he ought to do ; but strange to say he was not, in spite of this feeling, in sympathy with her mind or her intellect. My aunt was very sceptical in matters of religion, and absolutely refused to bow before what she called superstitions. She had been very much under the influence of her own father, ivho was imbued with the Voltairean ideas which -had taken hold, more or less, of every deep-think- ing person at the end of the eighteenth century ; she refused to accept the theory of a hell and of an eternal punishment for sin. She was very much -against the influence of the clergy in private life, and always deplored the abuse which was made of religion in relations and events with which it nought never to have had anything to do. I be- heve she thought on this subject more strongly 'Cven than she would admit in public, for she was always very chary of hurting the feelings of her neighbour. She never left the little house Balzac had Tjuilt and arranged for her when they married. It was No. 22 Rue Balzac, on the spot where i;he pavilion of the financier Beaujon formerly 32 BALZAC'S HOME stood, and where may now be seen the sumptuous mansion and gardens of Baroness James de Roths- child. Except a marble slab on the wall, which records that on that spot the house in which died the author of the Comedie Humaine once stood, nothing remains to remind one of the two people whose love had filled the walls now puUed down and destroyed. I always avoid the street when I am in Paris. It is too painful to cross it and not to find the familiar landmarks, not to ring at the porte cochire which opened on the little courtyard whence one entered the house. It was a tiny habitation, fuU to overflowing with costly works of art, pictures, and old china. The long drawing- room with its three windows had a big fireplace, opposite which stood on a table the colossal bust of Balzac, by David d' Angers. My aunt used to sit between it and the fireplace at the middle win- dow of the room, near a little table on which her books and knitting were laid. In this room, and near that table, all that was illustrious in French literature has congregated, and from the large arm- chair, in which she sat esconced, some of the most trenchant criticisms on modern opinions, and the events which have made our society what it is now, have been deUvered. Madame de Balzac, though living absolutely retired from the world, never lost her influence over those who played a part in that world's drama or comedy. She never, or hardly ever, entertained. Her daughter used at one time to go out a good deal in Parisian society, but the doors of the Hotel 33 D MY RECOLLECTIONS Balzac, as it was called, were never opened in the evening save to a few old and tried friends who» on certain days of the week, used to come and dine with its mistress, and her daughter and son- in-law who lived with her. The painter Jean Gigoux was one of them, and remained my aunt's closest friend up to her death. Another personage who used to put in a regular appearance on Wed- nesdays, always impressed my young imagination by the legend which surrounded his name. It was the famous Abb^ Constant, known in Paris as Eliphas Ldvy, a priest who had left holy orders, and whose life was devoted to the study of occult sciences, on which he had written many curious books, now forgotten, except by those who take an interest in such things. L'Abb^ Constant, a venerable figure with a flowing white beard, and long hair, was supposed to be gifted with the talent of prophesying, and though he absolutely refused to exercise his knowledge in our behalf, my cousins and myself were always trying to induce him to tell us our future. We never succeeded, except on one occasion, when the result proved to be too uncanny to be pleasant. One of the circumstances which had given great prominence to the science of fortune-teUing which EUphas L^vy was sup- posed to possess, was the fact that a few days before the Archbishop of Paris, Mgr. Sibour, was assassinated, a young man came to consult him on some business or other. The old philosopher told him to take care as he was on the point of committing a great crime. The young man, who 34 THE ABBE CONSTANT was none other but Verger, the murderer of the Archbishop, was so struck by this extraordinary guess, that after he was arrested he exclaimed he was sorry not to have listened to the Abb^ Con- stant. This made a great stir at the time, the more so that Ehphas L^vy, being an unfrocked priest, was naturally an object of suspicion, and I believe he was subjected to great annoyance in consequence of his warning to the youthful assassin. Whether this had anything or not to do with his subsequent reluctance to use his supposed knowledge of the future, I cannot say, but it is certain he did not care to be reminded of it. My aunt was very fond of the Abb^ Constant. Their religious opinions were, I beheve, identical, and their minds were much alike in the firm grasp they had of the grave problems which have in turn shaken humanity, and brought it from belief to incredulity, and from false knowledge to true science. They both possessed that grave indulgence which is only attained in old age, and which can afford to smile on the self-content and arrogance which is so inseparable from youth. Nei- ther of them ever tried to impose their opinions upon others, or to convert the younger generation to their ideas. They knew that ideas as well as opinions change according as to how the lesson of life is learned, and that the yoimg man who declares he will never alter, is not to be blamed but to be pitied for the inexperience which makes him think his judgment can never be modified by circum- stances. They were both very reserved in the 3S MY RECOLLECTIONS presence of strangers, and both nervously afraid of inflicting pain on any living creature. I have often wondered in later years whether this dread was due to the amount of suffering which had been dealt out to them by others. During the Franco - German war and the horrors of the Commune my aunt remained in Paris. She was very infirm, and could hardly leave her armchair, but never thought for one moment of seeking safety in flight. Her property of Beauregard was occupied by the German troops, who considerably damaged it. A good many of her manuscripts were either stolen or burned, and a marble bust of herself, the work of the Italian sculptor Bartolini, had its nose broken. In spite of our urgent request to allow the damage to be repaired, my aunt absolutely refused to do so. She was an ardent French patriot and liked to nurse the hiemory of her country's wrongs. The bibliophile Jacob, who was not devoid of a certain tinge of malice, declared that it was not so much the Prussians she hated as the Emperor Napoleon III., whom she accused of aU the mis- fortunes which had followed upon the war, and whose share in it she wished to be reminded of by the sight of her noseless image. It was true that my aunt was an ardent republican, with a strong tendency to socialism, but this did not prevent her from stigmatising, as they deserved, the ex- cesses of the Commune. And this brings me to another passage in her life, which it may perhaps amuse the public to hear. 36 INCIDENT DURING THE COMMUNE During the last dreadfiil days of the straggle of 1871, the Hotel Balzac was invaded by a de- tachment of insurgents. My aunt happened to be alone in her house when they burst into it. The leader of the band entered the room in which she sat, with his cap on his head, and began ad- dressing her as ' Citoyenne.' Madame de Balzac without showing the least discomposure, pointing with her finger to the head-dress of her inter- locutor, ' Take off your hat,' she said, ' I am not used to people talking to me with their heads covered; and call me Madame, I am too old to be addressed as Citoyenne.' The man was so surprised that he hastened to obey her, and after many excuses left the house with his companions. My father was very fond of chaffing his sister on the incident, and to ask her what she would have done had the Communard proved refiractory ; ' I would have pulled off his cap myself,' she used to reply, ' I was not going to let that ruffian be rude to me !' upon which my father retorted by saying that she was not consistent in her radical opinions, and that she ought to have welcomed with open arms the representative of that demo- cracy to which she professed to belong. The result was invariably a quarrel. I have lingered more than I ought to have done on the character of my aunt, but she has exercised such a great influence on my own opinions and life that I feel I cannot dismiss her lightly, or in a few words. I owe to her all the good that is in me; I certainly am indebted to 37 MY RECOLLECTIONS her for any power of resistance I may possess. But for her lessons and example it is probable I would have been a -different being from the one I have become, and though I might perhaps have been a better, I certainly should have been a weaker one. She taught me that though circumstances may break a human creature, they ought to be unable to make her bend under them, when any vital principle is at stake. 38 CHAPTER III. My Mother's Family — The Pcbschkoffs — Reminiscence of the Polish Mutimy — Attempt an the Czar's Life — Character of Alexamder II. — The Bea/wtiful Princess Dagmar — Franco -Prussian War — The Surrender of Sedan — In Paris after the Cormnvne — I am Engaged to he Married — Mt/ Presentation at Court — My Wedding. My mother was the daughter of M. Dmitri DasehkofF, Secretary of State for Justice in the early years of the Emperor Nicholas I.'s reign. The Daschkoffs, who are quite a different family from the one to which the Princess Daschkoff, so well known in history as the friend and favourite of the Empress Catherine, belonged, are of Tartar origin, and bear as such the crescent in their coat-of-arms. A Daschkoff was sent as Ambassador to the Sublime Porte during the reign of Peter the Great. My grandfather, who died when my mother was quite a little girl, left the reputation of having been a great statesman. He worked at the reform of the penal code, and was credited with liberal opinions, which, at the time he was living, was considered more or less as & singularity. He was very much respected, and, if we are to judge from his correspondence, must have been a remarkable man. He died at a com- paratively early age, leaving a youiig widow and three small children. My grandmother never 89 MY RECOLLECTIONS married again, and gave up the world absolutely after her husband's death. She was by birth a. Mademoiselle Paschkoff, of Moscow. The Paseh- koflfs were a very wealthy family of merchant origin, who, through their immense riches, secured for their daughters aUiances with the noblest blood in Russia. My grandmother had two brothers, and two sisters. One of the latter married Prince Wassiltchikolf, and for many years was a foremost personage in Russian society. She was a for- midable old lady, dreaded by the younger gene- ration, who kept her numerous nephews and nieces in salutary awe of her. She had a sharp tongue, and administered rebuffs, when she thought they were deserved, with a severity which was. almost merciless. Her two sons played an im- portant part in the reform movement which, signalled the first years of the Emperor Alex- ander II.'s reign. The eldest one, Alexander bjr name, was also one of the leaders of the Panslavist movement, and exercised by his writings, as well as by his opinions, a wide influence over a certain section of St. Petersburg society. He, too, died relatively young, leaving one son and two daugh- ters, the youngest of whom was married to Count Strogonoff, and died at twenty years old in the fult radiance of a marvellous beauty. My grandmother's youngest sister became the wife of Count Lewachoff", and both her brothers- left several children, one of them being the father of that Basil Paschkoff, who, owing to his adoption of the doctrines of Tjord Radstock, got hims^lt 40 M. DE BLOWITZ exiled from Russia, and lived for many years in England. Of cousins, nephews, nieces, my grandmother had a great number. There is scarcely a family in Russia which is not allied in one way or another with the Paschkoffs. The celebrated General SkobelefF was one of those who through my grandmother was a cousin of mine; and this- reminds me of a most ridiculous article contributed by the late M. de Blowitz to the Matin about me in which he gives a most fantastical account of the marriage of SkobeleflF's mother. I have often wondered where he got his information, which is- devoid of one single word of truth, for certainly Mr. Poltawtsoff was not the son of a serf, and the Paschkoffs were never landowners in the Government of Poltawa. My grandmother lived to a very advanced age. She was a real saint, and when she died in the small town of Riazan, the whole population of it followed her to her grave,, and all the poor of the place subscribed for a- wreath to be upon her coffin, with an inscrip- tion, which we afterwards had inscribed on her tombstone. It ran thus : ' Receive her, O Lord„ as she received all the poor and unfortunate.' My grandmother had never got over the shock of her only daughter's death, but she went on living for duty's sake, and tried to forget her own grief in soothing the sorrows of others. I have never met a more unselfish person. I loved her more, perhaps, than she knew, for she was of a stem disposition, and not given to effiision, and I 41 MY RECOLLECTIONS -was always more or less afraid of her, but even now, after so many years have passed, and so many sorrows have overtaken me, her death re- mains a distinct, sharp, and inconsolable grief, .amongst all others. 1 never feel my loneliness more than when I think of her. My mother was twenty-three years old when she married my father at Stuttgard, in the private ■chapel of Queen Olga of Wurtemberg. She was radiantly beautiful, and, like aU those whom the gods love, she was carried off young, dying in the full splendour of her youth and of her happiness, five