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THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES




VOLUME XVIil



EDITION DEFINITIVE

OF WHICH THERE ARE PRINTED ON IMPERIAL JAPAN
PAPER ONE THOUSAND COPIES

NO. 333



SCENES OF PRIVATE LIFE

VOLUME VII






JULIE AND



- relapsed i.





.



had held out ten, -pon Arthur's

Togftkcr .' 'irt'ti in site ue. t!ic iand-

rmonions bcai'ty of yiatn;\ . Tlic
tlic river, the f the <nr and




Ronore tor Bal;ac NOW FOR TH.

FIRST TIME COMPLETELY
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH
A WOMAN OF THIRTY THE DE-
SERTED MISTRESS BY GEORGE
BURN HAM IVES



U'UH EIGHT ETCHINGS U>' CTTARLES-THEODOKE DEBLOIS,
ADt. ; EOT AND GASTON-LOUIS-STPHA\JE



ADR1EN-MOREAU



ONLY FOR SUBSCRIBERS BY
GEORGE BARRIE & SON
PHILADELPHIA



JULIE AND LORD







Demote tie i3al?ac NOW FOR THE

FIRST TIME COMPLETELY
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH
A WOMAN OF THIRTY THE DE-
SERTED MISTRESS BY GEORGE
BURN HAM IVES



WITH EIGHT ETCHINGS BY CHARLES-THEODORE DEBLOIS,

ADRIEN NARGEOT AND GASTON-LOUIS-STPHANIE

RODRIGUEZ, AFTER PAINTINGS BY

ADRIEN-MOREA U



IN ONE VOLUME



PRINTED ONLY FOR SUBSCRIBERS BY

GEORGE BARRIE &- SON

PHILADELPHIA



COPYRIGHTED, 1897, BY G. B. A SON




A WOMAN OF THIRTY



51310



TO LOUIS BOUL4NGER, POINTER



(3)



NOTE FROM "HISTOIRE DES CEUfRES DE BALZAC"

By M. Spoelberch de Lovenjottl

"The different chapters of this tale appeared sep-
arately in the first place, and even at the time of
their first publication in book form, when they
formed Volume IV. of the second edition of Scenes de
la yie Privee, May 1832, they were not connected,
and a note by the publisher is the only indication
of any connection between the chapters. In the
following edition, in which the chapters are dated,
Volume IV. of the third edition of Scenes de la yie
Pri-v'ee, 1834-35, Balzac entitled the whole, The
Same Story, and wrote a preface dated March 25,
1834, which explained his idea in substance; but it
was not until 1842, in Volume III. of the fifth edition
of Scenes de la Vie Privee first edition of La
Comedie Humaine that the characters continued to
bear the same names through the different chapters
of the tale, which thereupon became definitively a
continuous work. It is easy to discover the motive
that led the author not to attribute in the first place
to the same person the divers adventures of the
Woman of Thirty. At the time when he published
the different chapters of this work, which is sup-
posed to begin in 1813, under the first Empire, the

(5)



6 NOTE

heroine, if she had been the same person through-
out, could not have attained the different ages he
gives her in the different divisions of the tale,
which covers a period of thirty-one years; there-
fore, when he prepared the last version that he cor-
rected for the press, he was careful to date it 1828-
1844, instead of 1828-1842, in order to lengthen
the interval existing between the date of the begin-
ning and that of the end of the work. He thus
makes practicable the suggestion in the last line of
the last chapter, that the narrative ends in 1844,
and not in 1842, as in the preceding edition."



A WOMAN OF THIRTY
FIRST TRANSGRESSIONS



Early in the month of April, 1813, there was a
certain Sunday morning which gave promise of one
of those lovely days when Parisians see, for the first
time since the year began, pavements free from mud,
and a cloudless sky. About noon a handsome cabrio-
let drawn by two spirited horses turned into Rue de
Rivoli from Rue de Castiglione, and drew up be-
hind several carriages standing in front of the
newly-opened gate in the centre of the Terrasse des
Feuillants. This smart equipage was driven by a
man of careworn and sickly aspect; hair that was
rapidly turning gray, hardly covered his yellow
skull, and made him look prematurely old. He
threw the reins to the mounted servant who followed
the carriage, and alighted to take in his arms a
young girl whose delicate beauty attracted the at-
tention of the idlers sauntering on the terrace. The
small person good-naturedly allowed herself to be

(7)



8 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

taken by the waist as she stood on the edge of the
carriage; she put her arms about her companion's
neck, whereupon he deposited her upon the side-
walk without soiling the trimming of her green
velvet gown. A lover would not have taken so
much pains. The stranger was in all probability
the child's father, for she took his arm unceremo-
niously, without thanking him, and hurried him into
the garden. The old father noticed the admiring
glances of several young men, and his melancholy
expression vanished for a moment. Although he
had long since reached the age at which men should
be content with the factitious enjoyment that vanity
affords, he began to smile.

"They think you're my wife," he said in the
young woman's ear, straightening himself up and
walking at a moderate pace that drove her to
despair.

He seemed inclined to flirt with his daughter, and
enjoyed more than she did perhaps the way in
which the bystanders stared at her little feet shod
in laced shoes of puce-colored leather, at her grace-
ful figure clad in a tightly-fitting gown, and at
the white neck which an embroidered collarette did
not entirely conceal. The motion of walking raised
her dress from time to time and afforded a glimpse,
above the shoes, of the rounded outline of a well-
turned leg, in openwork silk stockings. So it was
that more than one promenader overtook and passed
the couple to steal another admiring glance at the
youthful face, about which a few curls of chestnut



A WOMAN OF THIRTY 9

hair were playing, and whose pink and white color-
ing was enhanced, as well by the reflection of the
pink satin lining of her dainty hat, as by the desire
and impatience which sparkled in the pretty crea-
ture's every feature. A demurely mischievous ex-
pression gave animation to her lovely almond-shaped
black eyes, surmounted by well-arched eyebrows,
fringed with long lashes and immersed in trans-
parent fluid. Life and youth displayed their treas-
ures upon this rebellious visage, and upon a bust
of graceful outline, despite the fact that the girdle
was then worn immediately beneath the breast.
Heedless of this silent homage, the girl looked
anxiously toward the Chateau des Tuileries, which
was doubtless the goal of her petulant promenade.
It was quarter to twelve. Early as it was, several
ladies, desiring to exhibit themselves in full toilette,
were returning from the chateau, not without turn-
ing their heads discontentedly, as if repining be-
cause they had come too late to enjoy a spectacle
they wished to see. Some of the words in which
these disappointed fair promenaders gave vent to
their ill-humor were caught on the wing by the
pretty stranger and disturbed her to an extraordi-
nary degree. The old man watched with curious,
rather than mocking eyes, the signs of impatience and
alarm playing upon his fair companion's face, and
observed her too closely, perhaps, not to have had
some paternal misgivings.

It was the thirteenth Sunday of the year 1813.
Two days later Napoleon set out upon that fatal



10 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

campaign, during which he was to lose Bessieres and
Duroc in quick succession, to win the memorable
battles of Lutzen and Bautzen, to find himself be-
trayed by Austria, Saxony, Bavaria, and by Ber-
nadotte, and to fight the terrible battle of Leipsic.
The magnificent parade ordered by the Emperor was
destined to be the last of the long line that aroused
the admiration of Parisians and foreigners for so
many years. The Old Guard was to execute for
the last time those matchless manoeuvres whose
dash and precision sometimes amazed even the
Titan himself, who was preparing for his duel with
Europe. A melancholy presentiment brought to the
Tuileries a brilliant and an interested concourse.
Everyone seemed to divine the future, and foresaw,
it may be, that the imagination would, many a
time, have to reproduce the picture of that scene,
when the heroic days of France should assume, as
is the case to-day, almost fabulous proportions.

"Do walk faster, father!" said the girl excitedly,
drawing the old man along; "I hear the drums."

"The troops are marching into the Tuileries," he
replied.

"Or marching out everybody is going home!"
she rejoined, with a childish petulance that made
the old man smile.

"The parade doesn't begin until half-past
twelve," he said, walking almost behind his im-
petuous daughter.

From the movement she imparted to his right
arm, you would have said she was using it to assist



A WOMAN OF THIRTY II

her in running. Her little hand, well-gloved, im-
patiently crumpled a handkerchief, and resembled a
bark cleaving the waves. The old man smiled now
and then, but sometimes, too, an anxious expression
momentarily cast a shadow on his wrinkled face.
His love for this lovely creature made him admire
her in the present as much as he feared for her
future. He seemed to be saying to himself : "She
is happy to-day, will she be happy always?" For
old men are rather inclined to view the future of
young people in the light of their own disappoint-
ments. When the father and daughter reached the
peristyle of the pavilion, from whose summit floated
the tri-colored flag, and through which pedestrians
go and come between the Tuileries garden and the
Carrousel, the sentinels cried in solemn tones:

"No more can pass through!"

The child stood on tiptoe and succeeded in catch-
ing a glimpse of a crowd of elegantly dressed women
on both sides of the old marble arch through which
the Emperor was to make his appearance.

"You see, father, we started too late!"

Her little pout of vexation revealed the importance
in her sight of her presence at the review.

"Well, let us go, Julie, you don't like to be
crowded."

"Let us stay, father. I can see the Emperor from
here; if he should die during the campaign, I should
never have seen him."

The father started when he heard those egotistical
words; his daughter spoke with sobbing voice; he



12 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

looked at her and thought that he could detect be-
neath her lowered eyelids a stray tear, caused not
so much by annoyance as by one of those first dis-
appointments, the secret of which it is not difficult
for an old father to -guess. Suddenly Julie blushed
and uttered an exclamation, the meaning of which
was understood neither by the sentinels nor the old
man. At the sound of her voice, an officer who was
hurrying from the courtyard toward the stairway
turned quickly, walked forward as far as the pavil-
ion, recognized the young woman who was hidden
momentarily by the huge bearskin caps of the gren-
adiers, and immediately caused the order he him-
self had given to be waived as to her father and
herself; then, undisturbed by the murmurs of the
fashionable crowd laying siege to the pavilion, he
drew the delighted Julie gently to his side.

"I am no longer surprised at her indignation or
her ardor, since you are on duty," the old man said
to the officer in a tone at once grave and jocose.

"Monsieur le Due," the young man replied, "if
you want good places, let us not waste time talk-
ing. The Emperor doesn't like to wait, and I am
deputed by the grand marshal to notify him."

As he spoke, he had taken Julie's arm in a
familiar way and was leading her rapidly toward
the Carrousel. Julie saw with amazement an
enormous crowd }ammed into the small space be-
tween the gray walls of the palace and the stone
posts connected by chains which marked out great
sanded squares in the centre of the courtyard of the



A WOMAN OF THIRTY 13

Tuileries. The cordon of sentinels, stationed to
ensure an unobstructed passage for the Emperor and
his staff, had much ado not to be overborne by this
eager multitude, buzzing like a swarm of bees.
"Will it be very fine?" Julie asked with a smile,
"Look out!" cried the officer, as he seized Julie
around the waist and lifted her from the ground,
with as much strength as rapidity of movement, to
set her down beside a pillar.

Except for that abrupt manoeuvre, his inquisitive
kinswoman would have been struck by the hind-
quarters of the white horse, saddled and bridled,
with green velvet and gold accoutrements, which
Napoleon's Mameluke was holding by the rein,
almost under the arch and about ten steps behind
all the other horses that were awaiting the grand
officers of the household, the Emperor's companions.
The young man placed the father and daughter near
the first boundary post at the right, in front of the
crowd, and commended them, with a nod, to the
care of the two old grenadiers between whom they
stood. When the officer returned to the palace, a
joyous, happy expression had taken the place of the
sudden fright depicted upon his features as a result
of the horse's backward movement; Julie had given
his hand a mysterious pressure, to thank him for
the little service he had rendered her, perhaps, or
to say to him: "At last I have a chance to see
you !" She nodded her head pleasantly, in response
to the respectful salutation the officer addressed to
her and to her father before he hurried away. The



14 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

old man, who seemed to have left the young people
together purposely, stood a little behind his daugh-
ter, with a serious expression on his face; but he
watched her out of the corner of his eye, and tried
to inspire in her a false feeling of security by seem-
ing to be absorbed in contemplation of the magnifi-
cent spectacle presented by the Carrousel. When
Julie looked round at her father with the timid
glance of a scholar at his teacher, the old man
answered her look with a bright, good-humored
smile; but his keen eye had followed the officer
under the arch, and no detail of this rapidly enacted
scene had escaped him.

"What a magnificent sight!" said Julie in a low
voice, pressing her father's hand.

The grand and picturesque spectacle presented
by the Carrousel at that moment called forth similar
exclamations from the tens of thousands of specta-
tors, whose faces were all agape with admiration.
Another crowd of people, as closely packed as that
of which the old man and his daughter made part,
occupied the narrow paved space along the Carrousel
railing, parallel to the chateau. This last mentioned
crowd, interspersed with ladies' costumes of every
known hue, marked distinctly the fourth side of the
immense oblong rectangle formed by the Tuileries
buildings and this railing, then but recently erected.
The regiments of the Old Guard which were to be
passed in review filled that vast space, where they
were drawn up in imposing blue lines, ten rows
deep, facing the chateau. Outside the enclosure,



A WOMAN OF THIRTY 15

and in the Carrousel itself, were drawn up in par-
allel lines several regiments of infantry and cavalry,
ready to defile under the triumphal arch which adorns
the centre of the iron fence, and upon whose summit
the magnificent horses from Venice were at this
time to be seen. The regimental bands, stationed
beneath the galleries of the Louvre, were hidden
from sight by the Polish Lancers doing guard duty.
A great part of the sanded square remained unoccu-
pied as an arena for the manoeuvres of these silent
masses, drawn up with the symmetry of military
science, their ten thousand gleaming bayonets re-
flecting the sun's rays thrice over. The breeze
shook the plumes in the soldiers' helmets, causing
them to wave back and forth as the trees in a forest
bend before a strong wind. These seasoned troops,
silent and splendid, presented innumerable contrasts
of color due to the diversity of uniforms, facings,
weapons and ornaments. The immense picture, a
miniature battlefield before the battle, was poetically
framed, with all its accessories and odd accompani-
ments, by the lofty, majestic buildings, whose im-
mobility seemed to be imitated by officers and
soldiers. The spectator involuntarily compared the
walls of men to the walls of stone. The spring sun,
shining brightly upon the white walls of recent
construction and upon the other time-worn walls,
lighted up the numberless tanned faces, all of which
had tales of past dangers to tell and were gravely
awaiting dangers still to come. The colonels of the
different regiments rode back and forth alone in front



16 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

of the lines formed by those heroes. Behind the
serried ranks, varied with bright patches of silver,
azure, purple and gold, the onlookers could see the
tri-colored streamers attached to the lances of six
untiring Polish horsemen, who, like the dogs that
guide a flock of sheep along the borders of a field,
rode up and down incessantly between the troops
and the spectators, to prevent the latter from pass-
ing beyond the limits of the small space allotted
them near the imperial railing. Except for their
movements you would have thought you were in
the Sleeping Beauty's palace. The spring zephyr,
passing across the grenadiers' bearskin caps, at-
tested the immobility of the soldiers, even as the
dull murmur of the crowd made their silence the
more noticeable. At long intervals the echo of the
Chinese bells, or an inadvertent tap upon a bass-
drum, repeated by the echoes of the imperial palace,
resembled the distant thunderclaps that give warn-
ing of a coming storm. Indescribable enthusiasm
was expressed in the breathless suspense of the
multitude. France was about to say farewell to
Napoleon on the eve of a campaign, whose dangers
were appreciated by the humblest citizen.. This
time the existence of the French Empire was at
stake to be or not to be. That thought seemed
to stir the blood of the civilian and armed multitude
alike as they stood elbow to elbow, equally silent,
in the enclosure above which soared the eagle and
the genius of Napoleon. Those soldiers, the last
hope of France, her last drop of blood, counted for



A WOMAN OF THIRTY 17

much in the restless curiosity of the spectators. The
majority of the latter had friends or kinsfolk among
the troops to whom to say farewell, perhaps for ever ;
but all hearts, even those that were most hostile to
the Emperor, prayed fervently for the glory of the
fatherland. Those men who were most weary of
the struggle that had begun between Europe and
France laid aside their bitterness as they passed
beneath the triumphal arch, realizing that in the
day of peril Napoleon was France.

The clock upon the chateau struck the half-hour.
Instantly the murmuring among the crowd ceased
and the silence was so deep that a child's voice
could have been heard from one end of the en-
closure to the other. The old man and his daughter,
who seemed to live only in their eyes, could dis-
tinguish a jingling of spurs and clashing of swords
beneath the echoing peristyle of the chateau.

A short, stout man, in a green uniform with white
breeches and riding-boots, suddenly made his ap-
pearance, wearing a three-cornered hat as fascinat-
ing as the man himself; the broad red ribbon of the
Legion of Honor fluttered upon his breast, and a short
sword dangled at his side. The Man was espied
by every eye, at the same moment, in every part
of the square. The drums at once beat the salute,
the two bands began with a measure which was
instantly repeated by all the instruments from the
dulcet-toned flute to the huge bass drum. At that
warlike strain, men's hearts beat fast, the flags
were dipped, the soldiers presented arms with such



1 8 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

unanimous, machine-like precision of movement,
that every musket in the Carrousel from the first
rank to the last was shifted at the same instant.
Words of command passed from line to line like
echoes. Shouts of Vive I'Empereur! were taken up
by the enthusiastic multitude. In a word, all was
excitement, agitation, movement. Napoleon had
mounted his horse. That act had given life to
those silent masses, had given voices to the instru-
ments, imparted animation to the eagles and stand-
ards, and stirred every heart. The very walls of
the venerable palace's lofty galleries seemed also to
shout : "Vive I'Empereur !" It was something more
than human, it was a touch of sorcery, a simulacrum
of the divine power, or, better still, a fleeting image
of that fleeting reign. The man encompassed by
such a wealth of love, enthusiasm and devotion, the
man for whom the sun had driven the clouds from
the heavens, sat motionless upon his horse, three
paces in advance of the little bedizened staff in at-
tendance upon him, with the grand marshal at his
left, the marshal in attendance for the day upon his
right. Sitting in the centre of this whirlwind of
emotion aroused by the mere sight of him, his face
betrayed no answering emotion.

"Oh! my God, yes. At Wagram, in the hottest
of the fire, at the Moskowa among the dead, he was
always calm as Baptiste!"

This reply to numerous questions was made by
the grenadier who stood near the young girl and
her father. Julie was for a moment absorbed in



A WOMAN OF THIRTY IQ

contemplation of that face, whose perfect tranquil-
lity indicated such confidence in the security of his
power. The Emperor noticed Mademoiselle Cha-
tillonnest, and said a few words to Duroc which
brought a smile to the grand marshal's face. The
manoeuvres began. Although thus far the young
woman had divided her attention between Napo-
leon's impassive face and the blue, green and red
lines of the troops, at this moment, amid the rapid
movements executed by the old soldiers with clock-
like regularity, it was almost exclusively occupied
by a young officer who was riding about among the
moving lines and returning ever and anon with
incredible activity to the group at whose head shone
the simply-clad figure of Napoleon. The officer in
question rode a superb black horse, and was easily
distinguished, among that gayly appareled multi-
tude, by the showy sky-blue uniform of the Em-
peror's orderlies. His gold lace sparkled so brightly
in the sun and the plume of his long, narrow shako
was so dazzling to behold, that the spectators might
well have compared him to a will-o'-the-wisp, to a
visible spirit commissioned by the Emperor to in-
spire and guide the battalions, whose waving
weapons shot forth gleams of fire, when, at a signal
from his eyes, they broke in twain, formed in dense
masses, and turned this way and that like waves in
a narrow gulf, or passed before him like the long,
straight, towering surges angry Ocean leads against
its shores.
When the manoeuvres were at an end, the orderly



20 A WOMAN OF THIRTY

officer rode up at full speed, and halted in front of
the Emperor to await his orders. At that moment
he was within twenty paces of Julie, facing the im-
perial group, in an attitude not unlike that Gerard
has given General Rapp in the picture of the Battle
of Austerlit^. Thereupon the maiden had an oppor-
tunity to gaze admiringly at her lover in all his
military splendor. Colonel Victor d'Aiglemont,
then about thirty years old, was tall, well-built and
slender; his symmetrical proportions never showed
to better advantage than when he was exerting his
strength to control a horse, whose graceful, supple
back seemed to bend beneath him. His bronzed
manly face possessed that inexplicable charm which
perfect regularity of feature imparts to youthful
countenances. His brow was broad and high. His
flashing eyes, shaded by thick eyebrows and bor-
dered with long lashes, stood out like two white
ovals between two black circumferences. His nose
had the graceful curve of an eagle's beak. The
purple coloring of his lips was made more pro-
nounced by the inevitable wavy black moustache.
His full, high-colored cheeks had a brownish-yellow
tinge which denoted more than common strength.
His face one of those upon which personal valor
has set its seal was of the type sought by the
artist who dreams to-day of painting one of the
heroes of the France of the Empire. The horse,
which was drenched with sweat, was tossing his
head in a manner indicating extreme impatience;
his fore feet were planted a short distance apart and



A WOMAN OF THIRTY 21

upon exactly the same line, and he was thrashing
his flanks with his long, luxuriant tail. His devo-
tion presented a materialized image of his master's
devotion to the Emperor. When she saw how en-
grossed her lover was in catching a glance from
Napoleon, and reflected that he had not yet looked
at her, Julie had a momentary feeling of jealousy.
Suddenly a word was uttered by the sovereign;
Victor pressed his knees against his charger's sides


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