1876-12-02

Friday, 2 December 1876

My aunt brought me my coffee herself; I had a few trunks unpacked and became myself again for the first time since my journey. In Russia I missed the sun; in Paris, my dresses. Pray observe my way of life. Packing, unpacking, trying on, buying, travelling. And it is always like this!
Going down to the garden I found Pelikan with his doctor Broussais, Ivanoff, Grand-papa’s oculist, General Wolf, and Bihovetz, and then the Anitchkoffs.
I had to show myself and gratify my mothers who cannot contain their pleasure at seeing me filled out. Just fancy such happiness! But I abandoned them all to visit my women of the rue de France. What a welcome! I was told of marriages, deaths, births. I asked how business was. Badly, they replied.
— Eh, why, of course! I cried, everything has gone badly since France became a Republic!
And off I went. When they learned I had been to the Chamber, they drew back with great respect and then pressed round me. And then, fist on hip, I made them a speech interlaced with oaths and Niçois exclamations, showing them the republicans with their hands in the people’s gold: Like my hands in this rice! — and I plunged my paw into a sack of rice.
— Eh, why, of course, what are the rich for? To help the poor! I understand nothing of commerce, you understand nothing of painting. Not everyone can govern. The carpenter Cera does his work but he is not capable of writing a law, just as the Emperor could not make the most modest snuff-box. And trade is bad, and the foreigners no longer come. What the devil — people are not going to risk their heads and their fortunes!
That is only a small sample. Certainly there is no merit in converting women who know nothing and care about nothing, by explaining complicated matters through simple examples — but my foolish vanity was tickled when I heard them murmuring in Niçois: It’s true, but it really is true! If she were a man, we’d make a king of her.
But what flatters me far more is having brought tears to these women’s eyes by telling them of the misfortunes of Empress Eugénie — and especially one saying of hers at the bedside of a dying soldier in hospital during an epidemic. I had tears in my own eyes.
What moved them most was when, to explain Napoleon’s position, I showed them their shops invaded by villains who would set themselves up there in their place. I am trying out my powers in acting these scenes... to what end? If only I were a man...
After so long an absence the sky of Nice transports me, and I feel as if I could leap for joy, breathing this pure air, gazing at this transparent sky.
The sea just silvered by a hidden sun — cloudless, a soft warm grey — the brilliant verdure...
How beautiful it is, and how good it would be to live in this paradise.
I began walking on the Promenade without minding my bare head or the fairly numerous passers-by; then I went in to put on a hat and, taking my aunt and Bihovetz, walked as far as the Pont du Midi and came back incomparably sad.
I wore a white dress with a panel on the bodice embroidered with a sphinx in antique colours on gold. Similar panels at the pockets and a matching braid tied about the waist. A Rembrandt hat with a long feather — not like English hats nor those one always sees, those hideous caricatures. And a face as fresh and as pretty as mine perhaps.
At least they will envy me in secret, all those ladies in their vulgar and gaudy dresses, and all those girls in gaudy frocks, plain to the point of ugliness and yet far too ladylike.
Fie, the frights!
I am being vulgar.
Well, truly the family has its charm. Cards were played, we laughed, we had tea. And I felt steeped in contentment among my own people, surrounded by my dear dogs.
Victor with his big black head, Pincio white as snow, Bagatelle, Prater... all of them looked me in the eyes, and at that moment... I saw the old men playing at at their card games, these dogs, this dining room... Oh! it oppresses me, it stifles me, I want to run away; it seems to me that I am being chained up as in a nightmare, I cannot!!!! I am not made for this life, I cannot!
For a moment I felt some vanity in speaking of serious things with the old men... but after all they are obscure old men — what are they to me?
I have such a fear of remaining in Nice that it is driving me mad. It seems to me that this winter will again be wasted and I shall do nothing!
They are taking from me the means to work! Murder! Infamy!!!!!!
Bihovetz sent me a large basket of flowers and this evening Maman watered it to preserve them... Well, these little nothings drive me out of my mind.
This affectation of bourgeois ways fills me with despair!
Ah! Divine mercy. Ah! By the God of heaven I assure you I am not joking!
I came back from the pavilion by an enchanting moonlight that lit up my roses and my magnolias...
That poor garden which has never given me anything but sad thoughts and dreadful vexations.
I went up to my room with moist eyes, sad, so very sad.

Notes

In French in the original: pardi. ↩
Empress Eugénie (1826–1920) — wife of Napoleon III, exiled after the fall of the Second Empire in 1870; by 1876 she lived in England. ↩