Thursday, 15 August 1878

I am a Christian — alas!
I have done what I intended: I met Schwarz and accosted him. “Monsieur,” said I, “yesterday a disagreeable misunderstanding occurred; M. Dourassoff wished to introduce you, thinking it for the best; you did not wish it. And I have come to tell you that had M. Dourassoff consulted me, I would not have wished it either. We make acquaintances among Russians — but with foreigners it is different. I have not the slightest desire to make your acquaintance. And when you next address a lady, I advise you to remove your hat.”
He looked utterly furious — those ugly short-sighted eyes that seem so beautiful behind blue lenses, I saw them plainly now, and those thin cheeks and that sickly complexion. Several times he interrupted to say it was M. Dourassoff’s fault, that “among us it is not the custom either,” that he did not wish to disturb us, etc.
Then, while I was taking tea with the others, they called Dourassoff over and told him in crude terms that if I directed any further impertinences their way they would take their revenge. Dourassoff came to repeat this to me. In short, it is quite simply a scandal. What an idea, too, to imagine a narrow-minded German to be an intelligent Frenchman. I am so thoroughly unhinged by all of this that I tremble with rage and shame... didn’t I tell you that My God would come to my aid to administer some correction or other...
Dourassoff will go and tell everyone. I wish I were I do not know where...
Dourassoff left at three; the poor fellow had a narrow escape — a little more and there would have been a scene.
At last! I told Mme Abaza what I had made plain to Schwarz, and she says it is very good, because she left yesterday under the impression of that no, thank you, which called for revenge. Poor woman — I am quite mad. I have just written something like this to Doenhoff. Here, by the way, is the draft.
Copied letterLettre de Marie à un comte, ami de la famille, Soden, 15 août 1878
Soden 15 August 1878 Dear Count, I begin by telling you that I am at Soden with my aunt, Maman being kept in Paris by the grave state of my grandfather’s health. Could you tell me what sort of person a Prince Auguste de Hohenhole-Oehringen is? Here, moreover, is what it is about. One of our friends made his acquaintance, and recently, when our whole party — which is quite numerous and charming — was gathered together, our friend wished to introduce M. de Hohenhole to us, and he said, loudly enough to be heard by all of us: No, thank you. I confess that this shocked me utterly and, taking the part of all our ladies, I was foolish enough to tell him that, had I been consulted, it is I who would not have wished to make his acquaintance. Perhaps I was wrong, but you must admit too that the gentleman was rather rude, all the more so as the next day he went and said that I had said impertinent things to him without knowing him and without reason (which makes me pass for a madwoman), and that he would take his revenge. An old princess from Petersburg, whom you know well, said he looked stupid, not knowing that he understood Russian; and I drew his caricature, but frankly those are not insults grave enough to make anyone as furious as he became. One must suppose either that he is mad or that there is a third person involved. I am receiving extraordinary letters which, though unsigned, seem very clearly to be written by him. Who knows whether some imbecile is not amusing himself by writing letters to him as if they came from me or from someone in our party? In any case I am sorry to have got mixed up in all this, the more so as my remark will not correct the gentleman if he is ill-bred or narrow by nature. I do not know where my letter will find you, but knowing that you are still our great friend, I thought of you for information about this gentleman, who goes about everywhere speaking ill of me because we made a little fun of him; and he is very ill, and consequently very spiteful. Answer me quickly and send us your news at Soden, Kurhaus. Au revoir. My sincere regards. Marie Bashkirtseff
I am ashamed before these Russians, who know us only very slightly and who will have a strange idea of me if they are told that I went and spoke to that gentleman. A curse on all of it!
Grand-papa is dying... I think we shall go straight to Paris.
I am very fond of Rosalie, but I am going to get rid of her. She saw me talking to the prince, just as she had seen me near the Aquarium in Naples, and the whole Kurhaus saw me. Soden has ended like the others. And to think that if Dourassoff were less stupid and had not told me about his last interview with the Gans, I would be almost content.
I gave Céline thirty marks and told her that I did not want to receive any more anonymous letters, for I knew where they came from, and that I had already asked the black prince to stop this joke. The same story to Rosalie, who went and said to the Jew:
— Ah! ha, monsieur, mademoiselle will receive no more anonymous letters.
— And why not?
— Because she told the prince herself that she knows they come from him, and she seriously begs him to stop.
The same story to the Coubes and the Cancrines, with whom we dine and sup, and from whom we have just taken leave — tenderly from the former, amiably from the latter.
Madame Cancrine was born Greig; her father is Minister of Finance, of which we are proud, but our mamma was a dancer, and here are the circumstances in which the marriage came about. The Emperor liked to surprise his ministers; one day, when he called on M. Greig, the latter was working at his desk while beside him a lady was doing tapestry work. The Emperor went up to the lady and kissed her hand, and as soon as he had gone M. Greig had his carriage made ready and asked the lady to get in, saying: Come to church, my dear; His Majesty, by kissing your hand, has treated you as Mme Greig, so you must become her in reality. Ourassoff is the most amiable man on earth; perhaps he can be of use to me... if he wished, he could do anything. I forgot to say that when the Emperor kissed the hand of the minister’s companion, they were already happy and having a great many children. written across the page At that time he was not yet Minister of Finance.
I am still frightened by the business with the Gans; my aunt’s shamefaced air is odious to me... as I was telling you, I fell the other day — it is a very bad sign. Soden was a ravishing nest where I saw more people than in Paris and from which I could have gone away carrying a clean memory... and in an instant everything is spoiled, tarnished, sullied! A picture one has been working on for six weeks, and someone blots it with ink when it is finished.
I am appalled at what I wrote yesterday about God.
I feel a little better, but I am very sorry to have spoiled Soden. It will make me very good at Ems... if poor Grand-papa is better.
Soden, Schwarz and Gans were three words that made me laugh... now they are subjects of disgust.

Notes

The prince Marie confronted is August Karl Prinz zu Hohenlohe-Öhringen (1854–1884), son of Hugo, 4th Prince of Hohenlohe-Öhringen and Duke of Ujest; he died unmarried at San Remo on 27 January 1884 (thepeerage.com). His younger brother Hans (b. 1858) is the one Marie nicknamed “Gans” (Mon Journal t.12 index: «Hohenlohe-Oeringen (Hans) [Ganz]»). ↩