Germaine de Staël

RED BLOOD FOR BLUE

BENJAMIN and Madame de Charrière had often discussed Madame de Staël, for Madame de Charrière, as a literary woman who lived in Switzerland, knew Germaine pretty well.  Thus, when the defence of the Queen was published, Benjamin wrote to his friend (September 25, 1793) :

“ Madame de Staël has no more feeling than Muset (a pet dog) when writing her apology for the Queen. . . . The cadenced phrases, when one has before his eyes the picture of such long and frightful torments !  It is as if you were to spit on it.”

Madame de Charrière agreed, adding, however :  “ If you were to see her, you would admire her.”  She advised Benjamin to pay a visit to Coppet.  He went there on September 19, 1794.  Meanwhile his friend seems to have felt some qualms, for, on September 24, she wrote :

“ She is an agreeable woman to listen to, but it would be madness to want to be intimate with her.  There is nothing genuine.  We will amuse ourselves talking her over together.”

Benjamin replied on the 3oth :

“ My expedition to Coppet was fairly successful.  I did not find Madame de Staël there, but I overtook her on the road, was taken into her carriage and completed the drive from Nyon here (Lausanne) with her.  Have supped, breakfasted, dined, supped, then breakfasted again with her, so that I have seen and, above all, heard her very well.  It seems to me that you judge her a little severely.  I think her very energetic, very imprudent, very talkative, but good, trusting and sincerely devoted.  A proof that she is not merely a talking machine, is the lively interest she takes in those she has known who are afflicted.  She has just succeeded, after three disappointing and fruitless attempts, in saving from prison and in getting out of France a woman who was her enemy while she was in Paris (Madame de Montmorency-Laval, Mathieu’s mother) and who tried in those days to proclaim her hatred for her in every way.  That is more than mere chatter.  I think that her activity is a necessity as well as a virtue, for she uses it doing good.”

Germaine did not find Benjamin attractive, but, as his opinions interested her, she invited him to Mezéry.  The house was filling up.  Madame de Montmorency-Laval, Mathieu’s mother, had arrived from Paris, along with others, and Narbonne lingered.  These noble guests were both disturbed and annoyed by the coming among them of the weedy young man who blinked like a bat when he wasn’t wearing his spectacles and didn’t go out of his way to humour his betters.  Allowances must be made.  Mathieu, with the light of his conversion in his eyes and his mother by his side, was unreceptive of anticlerical and republican ideas ;  while his mother’s sojourn in Robespierre’s prisons had imported prejudice to her mind against Liberalism in all its forms.  Again, the spectacle of her ex-lover and son playing tabby in this snug establishment exasperated Madame de Montmorency-Laval, who had by no means forgiven Germaine for stealing Narbonne.  As for Narbonne, the presence of two mistresses in the same house imposed a strain on his nerves that was excuse enough for any lapse from good humour.  Benjamin, seeing how the land lay, flung himself at Germaine’s feet and lay there, sprawling.¹

On October 21, 1794, he wrote to Madame de Charrière :²

“ I do not find it difficult to ‘ toss her a compliment,’ as you put it.  On the contrary, I find it difficult, since I have known her better, not to launch forth in ceaseless praise of her and not to afford to all to whom I speak the spectacle of my interest and my admiration.  I have rarely met such a union of amazing and attracctive qualities, such brilliancy, such exactitude--a goodwill so extended, so tolerant--such generosity, a politeness so gentle and so unwearied, such simplicity, lack of constraint in intimate association.  She is the second woman I have met for whom I could count the world well lost since she is a world in herself.  You know who the first was.

“ Madame de Staël has infinitely more wit in intimate conversation than in Society.  She can listen :  we thought she couldn’t.  She enjoys other people’s wit as much as her own.  She honours those she likes with an ingenuous and unflagging attention which proves her kindness as much as her intelligence.  In short, she is a being apart, a superior being such as is to be encountered perhaps once in a century and such that those who draw near to her, know her and are her friends ought to be so content with as never to ask any other blessing.”

He visited Madame de Charrière soon after this ;  he had scented himself and brushed his clothes, so that she scarcely recognised him.

“ Benjamin,” she cried, “you’ve smartened yourself up :  you don’t love me any more.”

She was right :  the scent was for Germaine.  Germaine, unfortunately, did not like it ;  but she couldn’t get rid of Benjamin, whose passion gathered force daily.  What, they were not to be united !  Wasn’t it obvious that they had been made for each other ?  A man and woman with the same ideas, the same tastes, the same instincts ;  beings far separated from the herd, with a mission to discharge ?  He discussed Paris with her and showed her what they could do there together.  She no longer noticed the scent.  But still she hesitated.  Benjamin recalled his wooing of Jenny Pourrat :

“ At midnight of a day on which his bitter humour had degenerated into hatred of human kind,” Norvins,³ who was staying at Mezéry, recounts, “agonised and terrifying cries were heard proceeding from his bedroom.  Everybody had gone to bed.  The servants rushed to his room and found him lying on his bed, pale, with distorted features, raving and in convulsions.  They gave the alarm, shouting :  ‘Help ! M. Constant is killing himself.’  People in their night clothes came rushing from all parts of the house.  I went to call Madame Rilliet, who hurried with me to the sick man.  Constant directed what appeared to be his last glance towards her and murmured in tones that were scarcely audible :  ‘Ah, Madame, tell her that I am dying for her.  Ah, beg her in the name of a dying man, to come and, if time is given me, bid me a last farewell.  Say that I shall die happy, when I have seen her.’

“ Very much touched, Madame Rilliet hurried from the room.  Madame de Staël was in bed.  ‘Get up, my dear,’ she cried as she rushed to her, ‘ Consant has committed suicide ;  he begs to see you before he dies.’  Madame Rilliet had no difficulty in inspiring so impressionable a soul as Madame de Staël with her emotion :  ‘ He’s dying,’ the latter cried, ‘I’ll come ! ’

“ Meanwhile I had gone to Mathieu’s room.  I found him in a white dressing-gown, seated reading the Confessions of Saint Augustine.  At my first word, he emerged at a bound from the beautiful serenity of Christian charity which the news I brought had profaned, and exclaimed in the accents of the old nobility :

“ ‘ Fling the fellow out of the window.  He does nothing but give bother.  His suicide will bring scandal on the house.’

“ In spite of the seriousness of the position, I couldn’t help smiling at this frank outburst.  Meanwhile, when he heard Madame de Staël’s name, Mathieu rose from his chair, coolly lit his candle and accompanied me to Constant’s room.

“ The whole household, masters and servants, surrounded the bed, where the patient flung himself about, uttering heart-rending shrieks.  At the sight of this horrifying spectacle Madame de Staël exclaimed :  ‘ Poor soul !  What have you done ?  A doctor.  A doctor.’  These breathless words, which were interrupted by sobs, produced a magical effect.  ‘Ah, is it you ? ’ whispered the dying man.  ‘Is it you ?  You call me back for a moment to life. . . .’  Ah, live, live, dear M. Constant, I call you to live ! ’  These words were spoken in accents of the liveliest despair, for the change in Constant’s face gave us no hope of his recovery.  As for him :  ‘Ah,’ he exclaimed, ‘since you order it, I shall try to live.’  And he succeeded so well that, clutching at the hand of Madame de Staël with a kind of nervous spasm which terrified her, he imprinted a big kiss on it. . . . When the doctor came none of us felt much doubt that the miracle of his resurrection would be accomplished.  We all retired in a state of mind rather less sympathetic, for we didn’t wish to embarrass Constant in his explanations.  Mathieu remarked :  ‘ What a farce !  Good God ! ’ relit his candle and went back to his room.”

Germaine’s comment to Madame Rilliet was :

“ I feel a personal antipathy to that man which nothing can overcome.”

The comedy continued, and Madame de Montmorency-Laval took a hand in it.  She coveted Narbonne and saw the means of regaining him.  To her son’s horror, she began to make a pet of Benjamin.  Was she falling in love with him ?  Poor Mathieu found himself in grievous affliction, for, when he ventured to utter a protest, he was told not to be jealous.  Gradually the couples sorted themselves out :  Germaine and Benjamin, becoming daily more republican in their sympathies ;  Madame de Montmorency-Laval and Narbonne ;  Albertine Adrienne, who had come to stay at Mezéry, and Mathieu, these last taking what comfort they could from the promise that the prayers of the righteous avail much.  The situation was not made of lasting stuff, and the arrival of Gouverneur Morris determined it.  He had first-hand news of Paris.  Morris wrote in his diary :⁴

“ This morning (October 21, 1794) at 12 set off to see the Baron de Coppet, alias M. Necker.⁵ . . . (October 23, 1794.)  Go to dinner at Madame de Staël’s (Mezèry) where I am received with great warmth.  ... We have much talk, or rather I have, for they are desirous of information both public and private and I am more in condition to give it than most others.”

This visit decided Germaine to return to Paris in Benjamin’s company as soon as the city had settled down.  Ten days later Benjamin was sent off to Neuchâtel to make arrangements for the permanent residence of the Kindergarten at Gléresse, near Neuveville on the Lake of Bienne.  In a letter to Meister, of November 4, 1794, Germaine wrote :⁶

“ Monsieur Benjamin Constant, of whom M. Suard has perhaps spoken to you as a man possessed of an excellent mind, leaves here (Mezéry) today for Neuchâtel, having taken upon himself to procure (what is wanted). . . The news seems to me much less good.  Can it be that these infamous Jacobins belong to the nature of things ? . . . I am going to Paris.  And you ? ”

Meanwhile Jacques was setting his house in order.

“ In November 1794,” Jared Sparks tells, in his life of Gouverneur Morris, “a transaction occurred at Coppet between M. Necker on the one part and M. le Ray de Chaumont and Mr. Morris on the other by which the former advanced about £8,000 to the latter, receiving their bonds payable at long terms in the United States and secured by lands in that country.  The operation was entered into by M. Necker for the advantage of Madame de Staël and was in due time accomplished according to the terms of the agreement.  In the progress of this affair Madame de Staël had become acquainted with the sales of new lands in the United States, and, forming a high opinion of their value, she prevailed on her father to appropriate £4,000 of the money he had set apart for her in the purchase and improvement of these lands.”⁷

Jacques was justified of his daughter, who was an excellent woman of business.  The good man, growing fat and feeble, heard with alarm about the projected return to Paris and witnessed the departure of the Kindergarten from Mezéry with misgiving.  Since the decks were being cleared for action, something was going to happen.  But what ?  Surely Germaine was not about to surrender herself to Constant ?  Jacques felt himself wounded in his pride.  Eric Magnus, too, mindful no doubt of the Ribbing affair, seems to have discovered some annoyance.  Germaine told Meister (December 9, 1794) :⁸

“ M. de Staël is en route for Switzerland.  He was to have left Copenhagen on the 24th November.  I swear I have no idea about the motive which brings him.  He is more than diplomatic in his dealings with me. . . . I want to go to Paris at the same time as you.”

Germaine overcame her antipathy to Benjamin early in the new year.  They had Mezéry to themselves and could settle down to the work that called them--namely, the regeneration of France.  In Narbonne’s day, she had looked to war as the means towards this end ;  now she looked to peace.  With Benjamin’s help she wrote an appeal entitled :  Réflexions sur la Paix adresses à M. Pitt et aux Français.  In a modest preface she apologised to the man she had once nearly married and to the French nation for having so long delayed to bring them succour :

“ During the bloody reign of Robespierre, when each new day brought a fresh, appalling list of victims, I could do nothing but long to die myself. . . . I should have reproached myself for mental effort which was independent of this all-absorbing pain.”

The pamphlet itself achieves the feat of yoking Mathieu and Benjamin in double harness ;  the man of birth and intellect with the man of intellect only ;  the Constitutional with the Republican.  That was Germaine’s prescription for France.  She had not, it must be allowed, found the prescription efficacious at Mezéry.  Was this marriage of wits, blue-blooded and red, to take place in a monarchy or a republic ?  She shrugged her shoulders.  Perhaps in both, since time would show if it was necessary to possess a King.  Peace was the immediate necessity since war had been shown to favour the Jacobins.  Mr. Pitt was advised, tactfully, to abdicate in favour of Mr. Fox ;  and the French were warned not to fall in love with glory.

On February 10, 1795, she wrote to Meister :⁹

“ I’ll tell you a secret which even my father doesn’t know ;  it’s this pamphlet (the Reflections on the Peace) which will soon be published.  If you think well of it, can you arrange for its printing in a German edition ? . . . My father is in bed as the result of a fall.”

And again on March 12, 1795 :

“ My authorship of the pamphlet has been recognised by my father.  He has read it and forgives me. . . I want to go to France at the end of April.  Couldn’t we loin our plans and go together ? . . . M. de Staël is delighted with Paris and believes that everything is perfectly safe there.  Well-known people, rich people have gone back to France and recovered their possessions.  So far as I can see, all there is to fear now is the nature of things ;  the Government is well-intentioned.”

She was badly informed.  The Government had no intentions, only hunger for office.  Threatened both from the Left by the Jacobins, and from the Right by the Royalists, this precious gang of “tigers and nightingales,” in Madame Necker’s phrase, had begun to cast eyes on the empty throne.  How much more secure they would be if a King who owed everything to them sat on it !  Their thoughts turned uneasily to the child in the Temple, King Louis’ little son, whose jailer Simon had followed Robespierre to the guillotine.  Millions of Frenchmen and the whole population of Europe called this little boy Louis XVII ;  the entire universe paid him and his sister the tribute of its pity.  What a calamity that their hands were red with the blood of his father and mother !  If France had sight of this child of sorrows, with his golden head and his gentle eyes, should they be able to hold their places ?  Both Barras and Tallien got into touch, secretly, with the agents of the boy’s uncle, the Comte de Provence, who, from his retreat in Verona, had already proclaimed himself Regent, hinting that, if their conditions were complied with, a reforation might be effected.  Surely, they argued, the bitterness of death was past.  The brother of Louis XVI was coldly non-committal.

And meanwhile difficulties accumulated.  The Girondists, newly returned from exile and hiding, demanded vengeance for their murdered friends, the Rolands, Condorcet and the others ;  deputations from the provinces continued to arrive bearing tales of massacre, rape, and pillage which set honest teeth on edge.  The middle class, formidable architect of the Revolution, was in fear, now, of its possessions as well as of its safety.  Its young men had shut the famous club of the Jacobins in the rue St. Honoré ;  they had quelled the Commune.  Would they finish by making an end of the murderers of Toulon and Bordeaux ?  New scapegoats were required.  They were provided in the persons of Collot d’Herbois and Billaud-Varenne.  These two with some others were tried and, in spite of their plea that they were no worse than their accusers whom they had helped to destroy Robespierre, in spite of Carnot’s defence, condemned.  The Jacobins, crying “Judas” against Barras and Tallien, rushed as of old to the Hôtel de Ville.  The alarm bells clanged.  Once more from the kennels and cellars of the rue St. Antoine, skinny, starved bodies ran to join the pack.  On April 1, 1795, the “12th Germinal,” the mob stormed the Convention.  But the triumph lasted only an hour or two.  The “gilded youth” of the middle class, organised by Fréron as a special constabulary, marched to the rescue, and cleared the hall.  Next day the National Guard was reconditioned so as to exclude the lowest class from its ranks.  Barras and Tallien took a fresh, quick step to the Right.  They had luck on their side, for, on April 5, peace was concluded with Prussia and France acquired her “natural” frontier, Belgium and the left bank of the Rhine.

¹ This is no exaggeration.  Benjamin’s antics became so distressing that every member of the house-party was disurbed by them.

² Benjamin’s letters to Madame de Charrière have been published by several authors including Godet, Madame Meligari, Rudler, Gaullieur and Sainte-Beuve.  The translations, except in a few instances, are taken from the work of Elizabeth W. Schermerhorn.

³ Norvins :  Mémorial, Vol. II, p. 97.

⁴ Life of Gouverneur Morris, by Jared Sparks.

⁵ Necker conferred this absurd title on himself.  It was not made less ridiculous by the fact that Switzerland was a Republic.

⁶ Madame de Staël à Henri Meister, p. 123.

⁷ See Madame de Staël and the United States, by R.L. Hawkins.

⁸ Madame de Staël à Henri Meister, p. 124.

⁹ Madame de Staël à Henri Meister, p. 126.