Memoirs of a Courtesan in Nineteenth-Century Paris (38 page)

‘‘He is charming,’ said Victorine. ‘ Only, you are letting me have an odious and boring role; I feel like the Bottin address almanac. I do not need to tell you that he asked me for your address.’

‘ You did not give it to him, I hope.’

‘‘Done. You need distractions!’’

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27

o CholeraGivesMeaGodchild

Beaujon Hospice,  March —‘‘You are all she will have’

    Caroline at the hospice. She was in pain, and the doctor handed me such a frail little girl that I said to myself, ‘ She will never live.’

The father was present. He asked me to hold the little girl at the bap-tismal fonts with one of his friends, whom he would be bringing the next day at ten o’clock.

M. Richard kept his word. At four o’clock he was at my house. I teased him about his sudden change.

He urged me, ‘Agree to come dine tomorrow with your friend and my cousin. It is the only way you can persuade me that you do not hold anything against me.’

‘ I hold nothing against you, but I have too much to do; I am a godmother.’

‘ You will be free at six o’clock and I shall come by for you.’

‘‘No, send your cousin, and you will pick up Victorine.’

 ,   

The next day at nine o’clock, I was at the hospice with my little bundle.

I dressed my godchild for whom everything was too big. I had to gather her little bonnet. At the church my heart sank. There was a wedding ceremony. I thought about Lionel, and a couple of tears dropped from my eyes down to the little girl’s forehead. I showed the spot to the priest, who wiped it with holy oils.

I gave her the name of Solange in memory of Berry, and mine, so she would remember me. On the way out of the church I held her pressed against my heart. I felt like running away with her as if she were mine.

I walked toward the hospice and ruefully placed her in her cradle. I

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Cholera Gives Me a Godchild

took charge of finding a nursemaid. I did not return to see her until the next day.

Caroline looked pale and hollow-eyed.

‘‘Have you found a nursemaid?’’

‘ Yes, she will be here tomorrow.’

‘ Oh! Madame, it is not tomorrow she must come, but today. Death is in this room. Since your last visit, five women and four children have died.’

‘‘Do not worry, tomorrow will be here soon.’

‘‘But, madame, look across the way.’

And she lay back down. I crossed the room and, in fact, I did see something atrocious: a young woman, who must have been about twenty-two years old, was holding a tiny baby in her arms. She was trying to nurse him, but he would not suckle. I stopped an orderly and asked her what that meant. She looked skyward without replying.

‘‘Here,’ I told her as I slipped five francs into her hand, ‘ take good care of the woman over there.’

‘ Oh! You are her daughter’s godmother? Take her away right now.’

She walked off to take care of the sick woman.

‘‘Did you see?’’ Caroline said.

‘ Certainly, but do not torment yourself. I am taking Solange with me. The nursemaid wagon where I went, on Rue de la Victoire, will be there another three days. I shall keep her at my house. I shall return to see you tomorrow.’

In Caroline’s absence I had hired a German girl who had previously worked for me by the day.

This was  March . That day the Beaujon Hospice was all astir because rooms were being rearranged. Women in labor were moved from the first floor to the third. Everything was scrubbed and impeccably clean. In spite of these precautions, death was reaping a terrible harvest. Since Caroline’s admittance, seventeen women and children had suddenly been taken away. Mortality was two-thirds more preva-lent among women who had just given birth.

I asked for the intern on duty and requested that he tell me frankly what he knew.

‘‘Well! Mademoiselle, if you care for the life of this poor woman, take her away, even though she has not been here the nine days. There is no longer any doubt, it is cholera.’

‘ Tomorrow her husband will bring her to me. Have her card signed.’

The next day a carriage stopped at my door. Caroline was carried in

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Cholera Gives Me a Godchild

more than led in by her husband. I took a step backward; she seemed so changed. Her eyes were sunken, her cheeks hollow, her lips black. I put her in my bed and sent for my doctor, Lionel’s.

The doctor looked at her for a long time and told me, ‘ Send the child away before she sees her. She must not come near her bed.’

‘Adèle,’ I told my German girl, ‘ go get me some powdered camphor.’

I put some in my little godchild’s swaddling clothes, in her bonnet, in her fichu, and I handed her to her mother so she could hold her one last time.

I was nervous, since her mother’s breath could poison her.

Once the child was gone I felt more at ease.

I spent the night at Victorine’s.

‘      ’

My doctor came twice a day. On the third day he took me aside and said, ‘ There is no hope for her. Since her husband is at her side, leave and go to your friend’s house.’

‘ Oh! My dear doctor, do not worry about me. She has a child. Use all your scientific knowledge, bring in one of your colleagues, but save her.’

‘‘I have done all I can, there is no hope.’

That evening at six o’clock I left this poor woman to go to Victorine’s.

All night long I dreamed about Caroline. I got up at seven.

As I was going down Rue Amsterdam, which led to my house, I met a young actress named Virginie Mercier, whom I had known at the Dé-

lassements and who was at the Vaudeville. After I asked about her health I told her about my situation.

‘ Do you want me to go with you?’’

‘ That would please me greatly.’

When I walked into my house Caroline was stiff, her eyes were closed.

The German girl told me she cried when she was asked if she wanted a confessor.

I took her hand and told her, ‘ Caroline, can you hear me?’’

She moved her chin without speaking. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace. I asked for some towels and warmed them, with Virginie’s help, and put some on her feet, her hands, her stomach, and her chest.

She gradually warmed up, and she was able to speak.

‘‘Kind mistress, I was waiting for you.’

‘‘Well! I am here, and I shall stay with you. Why did you refuse to see a priest? I am sending for one now and we shall pray together.’

Her husband understood me and went to the church. She motioned

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Cholera Gives Me a Godchild

for me to come closer and said, ‘‘You will take care of my little girl, will you not? You are all she will have.’

‘‘Yes, I shall take care of her, and you also. You will be better tonight.

Here is your husband.’

During the prayer she struggled, and her body almost rolled off the bed; we picked her back up. She experienced a horrible contortion, stiffened, and fell back, mouth and eyes open.

I placed my right hand on her still-warm forehead, my left hand on my heart, and I swore to her that I would raise her daughter and would make an honest woman of her. I knew the father could not do anything.

He was married to another woman, and without me the poor little girl would only have the Foundlings Home.



28

o DramaticFolliesand

Folies-Dramatiques

Richard Is Sacrificed—Finding a Woman and Two Millions—

I Hire, Therefore I Pay—The Sweet and Kind Confidant—

Dressing Rooms and Backstage

    my apartment, which was too far away, and had rented a pretty one facing the street on the third floor at number  of Boulevard Poissonnière.

I decided to go back on the stage.

Once I had moved in I inquired about Lionel’s activities. He was in Vendée with a relative.

Sometimes Richard would visit me. He was extremely sweet and always affectionate. One thing pained him: constantly having to hear me talk about Lionel.

All the furniture I had was one distressed-oak dining room set and a magnificent bed; the rest had been taken to Berry.

Richard sent me his decorator with instructions to get me whatever I needed at his own expense. Two days later my apartment was furnished.

For all his kindness, Richard barely got a thank you or a smile in return.

I was sad. My love for Lionel ruled me and it was futile to fight against it. As hard as I tried to forget, it was useless. Lionel was one of those men who do everything well. A fine gentleman in the smallest details, kind, generous, a quick mind, honest. Passion magnifies everything, and yet those who have known him know that I do not exaggerate.

Richard had great qualities, but in no way did he have anything in common with Lionel’s character, which was so exuberant in ardor and imagination. Richard was sweet and kind. One evening, not too long after my getting settled in, he came to take me to dinner. We were at the alley’s entrance when I saw Lionel. He stopped in front of us, looked at Richard, and said to me, ‘ Could I have a word with you?’’



  

I looked at Richard who, without knowing him, had guessed it was Lionel. He was pale with irritation and anger. I looked at him implor-ingly and said, ‘‘Would you be kind enough to go on ahead and wait for me at the Maison-d’Or?’’

Their eyes met and flashed menacingly.

‘ Go,’ I told him, pushing him a little.

As he walked away, he looked back. Lionel, arms crossed, was watching him, then said to me, ‘‘I am sorry to have disturbed you, my dear. I needed to talk business with you. I should have known that when one has left a woman like you for just a few hours, it is necessary to write ahead to avoid running into others.’

‘‘You had the right to leave me, and I had the right to replace you. I have no fortune. I would rather die than ask you for anything.’

‘ So, you do not love this man?’’

‘‘No, unfortunately.’

‘‘Well, then, stay with me. Do not have dinner with this man, you owe me that much. I have broken off everything. I cannot live without you, but if you go out with him, I am leaving and shall never see you again.’

‘‘I still love you, Lionel. What you have just said makes me very happy, yet I cannot accept the price you are demanding. It would be base boorishness to abandon M. Richard like that. I was quite glad to find him; I am not an ingrate, so I am going to go meet him. After dinner I shall go home and write to him that I cannot see him anymore.

‘ Go,’ he said, ‘‘I shall wait for you.’

I arrived at the Maison-d’Or. Richard let out a cry of joy when he saw me.

‘ Oh! I was afraid you would not come! How did your encounter go?’’

‘‘Well. I am going to see Lionel in a little while; we have business to talk over.’

‘‘What? You are going to see him after dinner?’’

‘ Yes, my friend.’

‘All right, Céleste, do not lie to me. You are sacrificing me, is that right? You are leaving me? I cannot compete against him; you love him.

I must resign myself to that fact, and wait.’ He held my hands, kissed them, saying, ‘‘Leave—your presence hurts me—but do not forget me.’

I had just sacrificed a lot for Lionel. He was waiting for me and greeted me coldly. He was looking at each new thing in my apartment with a sneer. I stood up for what had been given to me. He became very piqued and came up with a folly; he gave me a set of emerald and diamond jewelry worthy of a queen.



Dramatic Follies and Folies-Dramatiques

‘‘I shall never have the occasion to wear such beautiful things, and besides, they must be very expensive!’’

He replied that it was none of my concern.

These jewels, which consisted of a bracelet, a brooch, earrings, and rings, purchased from a principled merchant, would be worth twenty thousand francs. They must have cost Lionel double that amount from his Palais-Royal jeweler.

Lionel took advantage of my enchantment to tell me, ‘‘Pack your trunks, I am taking you with me.’

Forgive me for so often taking you down the roads leading to Berry, but it is not my fault that my life was some twenty times entangled in this same brushwood.

     

I had not been in Berry more than two weeks when the same old scenes started again.

‘‘Really, Lionel, you are making me unhappy, and you are not happy.

You have regrets and I am the cause. Do you want me to leave?’’

He was going hunting more often than ever, and his affairs were becoming more and more muddled. I was more aware of that than he, who seemed to feel quite secure. One day he did not get his boar, and I was the one paying for the defeat.

‘ Oh, but my dear, you came back to me of your own free will. I tried to make up for what you sacrificed for me; if you think it is not enough, name your price.’

The tone in which all this was said hurt me deeply. I thought of sweet Richard.

I replied, ‘‘You gave me some beautiful jewelry. I have the right and the pleasure to be able to show it off in the sun so it can glitter. This châ-

teau is bad luck. Your gardener just lost his two daughters in less than a month. Solange just lost her mother. All I hear are howls all night; there is rabies in your kennels. Each day one or two of those beautiful dogs I practically raised must be hanged. You spend money madly, and this household is ruining you. You made me an accomplice in your follies by giving me these magnificent jewels. While we are on the subject, I shall tell you what I needed to be happy near you: to see you curtail your expenses. My love for you and the thought of encouraging you in straightening out your fortune would have made me stay cooped up here for as long as you wished.’

Several days after this explanation, he was absorbed in his thoughts.



Dramatic Follies and Folies-Dramatiques

‘ What is the matter, Lionel? A new project worrying you? Does my presence bother you?’’

‘‘No, Céleste, but I have just lost an important amount on the stock market. I am preoccupied.’