Domestic Peace
by Honore de Balzac
Translated by Ellen Marriage and Clara Bell
Dedicated to my dear niece Valentine Surville.
The
incident recorded in this
sketch took place towards the end of the
month of November, 1809, the moment when Napoleon's
fugitive empire
attained the apogee of its
splendor. The trumpet-blasts of Wagram were
still sounding an echo in the heart of the Austrian
monarchy. Peace
was being signed between France and the Coalition. Kings and princes
came to perform their orbits, like stars, round Napoleon, who gave
himself the pleasure of dragging all Europe in his train--a
magnificent experiment in the power he afterwards displayed at
Dresden. Never, as contemporaries tell us, did Paris see
entertainments more
superb than those which preceded and followed the
sovereign's marriage with an Austrian archduchess. Never, in the most
splendid days of the Monarchy, had so many crowned heads thronged the
shores of the Seine, never had the French
aristocracy been so rich or
so splendid. The diamonds
lavishly scattered over the women's dresses,
and the gold and silver
embroidery on the uniforms contrasted so
strongly with the penury of the Republic, that the
wealth of the globe
seemed to be rolling through the drawing-rooms of Paris. Intoxication
seemed to have turned the brains of this Empire of a day. All the
military, not excepting their chief, reveled like parvenus in the
treasure conquered for them by a million men with worsted epaulettes,
whose demands were satisfied by a few yards of red ribbon.
At this time most women
affected that lightness of conduct and
facility of morals which
distinguished the reign of Louis XV. Whether
it were in
imitation of the tone of the fallen
monarchy, or because
certain members of the Imperial family had set the example--as certain
malcontents of the Faubourg Saint-Germain chose to say--it is certain
that men and women alike flung themselves into a life of pleasure with
an intrepidity which seemed to forbode the end of the world. But there
was at that time another cause for such license. The infatuation of
women for the military became a
frenzy, and was too
consonant to the
Emperor's views for him to try to check it. The
frequent calls to
arms, which gave every treaty concluded between Napoleon and the rest
of Europe the
character of an
armistice, left every
passion open to a
termination as sudden as the decisions of the Commander-in-chief of
all these busbys, pelisses, and aiguillettes, which so fascinated the
fair sex. Hearts were as nomadic as the regiments. Between the first
and fifth bulletins from the Grand armee a woman might be in
succession
mistress, wife, mother, and widow.
Was it the
prospect of early widowhood, the hope of a jointure, or
that of
bearing a name promised to history, which made the soldiers so
attractive? Were women drawn to them by the
certainty that the secret
of their
passions would be buried on the field of battle? or may we
find the reason of this gentle fanaticism in the noble charm that
courage has for a woman? Perhaps all these reasons, which the future
historian of the manners of the Empire will no doubt amuse himself by
weighing, counted for something in their facile
readiness to abandon
themselves to love intrigues. Be that as it may, it must here be
confessed that at that time laurels hid many errors, women showed an
ardent
preference for the brave adventurers, whom they regarded as the
true fount of honor,
wealth, or pleasure; and in the eyes of young
girls, an epaulette--the hieroglyphic of a future--signified happiness
and liberty.
One feature, and a
characteristic one, of this
unique period in our
history was an unbridled mania for everything glittering. Never were
fireworks so much in vogue, never were diamonds so highly prized. The
men, as
greedy as the women of these translucent pebbles, displayed
them no less
lavishly. Possibly the necessity for carrying
plunder in
the most
portable form made gems the fashion in the army. A man was
not
ridiculous then, as he would be now, if his shirt-frill or his
fingers blazed with large diamonds. Murat, an Oriental by nature, set
the example of
preposterousluxury to modern soldiers.
The Comte de Gondreville,
formerly known as Citizen Malin, whose
elevation had made him famous, having become a Lucullus of the
Conservative Senate, which "conserved" nothing, had postponed an
entertainment in honor of the peace only that he might the better pay
his court to Napoleon by his efforts to
eclipse those flatterers who
had been before-hand with him. The ambassadors from all the Powers
friendly with France, with an eye to favors to come, the most
important personages of the Empire, and even a few princes, were at
this hour assembled in the
wealthy senator's drawing-rooms. Dancing
flagged; every one was watching for the Emperor, whose presence the
Count had promised his guests. And Napoleon would have kept his word
but for the scene which had broken out that very evening between him
and Josephine--the scene which portended the
impendingdivorce of the
august pair. The report of this
incident, at the time kept very
secret, but recorded by history, did not reach the ears of the
courtiers, and had no effect on the
gaiety of Comte de Gondreville's
party beyond keeping Napoleon away.
The prettiest women in Paris, eager to be at the Count's on the
strength of mere hearsay, at this moment were a besieging force of
luxury, coquettishness,
elegance, and beauty. The
financial world,
proud of its
riches, challenged the
splendor of the generals and high
officials of the Empire, so recently gorged with orders, titles, and
honors. These grand balls were always an opportunity seized upon by
wealthy families for introducing their heiresses to Napoleon's
Praetorian Guard, in the foolish hope of exchanging their splendid
fortunes for
uncertain favors. The women who believed themselves
strong enough in their beauty alone came to test their power. There,
as
elsewhere,
amusement was but a blind. Calm and smiling faces and
placid brows covered
sordid interests, expressions of friendship were
a lie, and more than one man was less distrustful of his enemies than
of his friends.
These remarks are necessary to explain the
incidents of the little
imbroglio which is the subject of this study, and the picture,
softened as it is, of the tone then
dominant in Paris drawing-rooms.
"Turn your eyes a little towards the
pedestal supporting that
candelabrum--do you see a young lady with her hair drawn back a la
Chinoise!--There, in the corner to the left; she has bluebells in the
knot of
chestnut curls which fall in clusters on her head. Do not you
see her? She is so pale you might fancy she was ill, delicate-looking,
and very small; there--now she is turning her head this way; her
almond-shaped blue eyes, so
delightfully soft, look as if they were
made
expressly for tears. Look, look! She is bending forward to see
Madame de Vaudremont below the crowd of heads in
constantmotion; the
high head-dresses prevent her having a clear view."
"I see her now, my dear fellow. You had only to say that she had the
whitest skin of all the women here; I should have known whom you
meant. I had noticed her before; she has the loveliest
complexion I
ever admired. From hence I defy you to see against her
throat the
pearls between the sapphires of her
necklace. But she is a prude or a
coquette, for the tucker of her bodice scarcely lets one
suspect the
beauty of her bust. What shoulders! what lily-whiteness!"
"Who is she?" asked the first speaker.
"Ah! that I do not know."
"Aristocrat!--Do you want to keep them all to yourself, Montcornet?"
"You of all men to banter me!" replied Montcornet, with a smile. "Do
you think you have a right to
insult a poor general like me because,
being a happy rival of Soulanges, you cannot even turn on your heel
without alarming Madame de Vaudremont? Or is it because I came only a
month ago into the Promised Land? How
insolent you can be, you men in
office, who sit glued to your chairs while we are dodging shot and
shell! Come, Monsieur le Maitre des Requetes, allow us to glean in the
field of which you can only have
precarious possession from the moment
when we evacuate it. The deuce is in it! We have a right to live! My
good friend, if you knew the German women, you would, I believe, do me
a good turn with the Parisian you love best."
"Well, General, since you have vouchsafed to turn your attention to
that lady, whom I never saw till now, have the
charity to tell me if
you have seen her dance."
"Why, my dear Martial, where have you dropped from? If you are ever
sent with an
embassy, I have small hopes of your success. Do not you
see a
triple rank of the most undaunted coquettes of Paris between her