Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Saturday, 23 July 1881

In Warsaw one crosses the entire city to go from one station to another, and we miss our train. So here we are at the Hôtel de l'Europe — the best here — in the middle of luncheon when my father brings up an elderly gentleman and introduces M. Paskevitch: the husband of the beautiful Mme Paskevitch whom I saw at Baden with Carlos Hamilton, whom she ended up marrying, as you know, by divorcing her husband. He remains the man of the world one knew — but alas! He lived in Paris twenty years, was first secretary of the embassy, a millionaire, the husband of a ravishing woman, a friend of the Emperor and the Empress Eugénie... All went up in smoke. What remains is one and a half million francs in debt, thirty thousand francs in pension made by Lady Hamilton, fifty-five years of age, no longer able to walk properly, and a boundless passion for everything connected with Paris.
My father and he address each other as tu — Paskevitch having contracted hemorrhagic smallpox eight years ago and my father having nursed him throughout at Kharkov.
At that time M. Bashkirtseff was living as a bachelor, and Paskevitch is quite astonished to find him with a daughter, etc., etc. After an hour he declares that one can converse with me and that — well done! — here at last is someone who understands the good things, elegance, and everything! We drink champagne and leave the waiter a rather scandalous tip, after which a smart barouche provided by the hotel takes us to the fashionable drive. Paskevitch, undone by very little wine, never ceases to shower me with praise and to curse fate for not having had me born twenty-five years earlier.
— With my millions, my post, my aspirations, a woman like you and an artist besides I! But within two months Europe would have been at your feet — the Emperor and Eugénie and the whole company — the foremost salon in the world! I had one — but with you!
And so on throughout — we enter a kind of Pré Catelan, and a tiny glass of champagne finishes off the nephew of the Prince of Warsaw, Count Paskevitch d'Erivan, who can barely climb into a carriage with his useless legs, and whom my father escorts back to the castle where he lives — for this ruin of a man is attached to the General Governor Albedinsky, who holds power of life and death in the Kingdom of Poland. Albedinsky owes his fortune to his marriage with a Princess Dolgorouky, of whom the Emperor was long the protector.

Notes

Hemorrhagic smallpox (petite vérole noire): the most dangerous and disfiguring form of smallpox, with a very high fatality rate. That Paskevitch survived was exceptional. ↩
"I!" — In English in the original. Marie's characteristic emphatic English exclamation. ↩
Pré Catelan: an elegant restaurant and gardens in the Bois de Boulogne, Paris — the quintessential venue for fashionable afternoon outings. Marie uses it as a comparison point for this Warsaw garden. ↩
Count Paskevitch d'Erivan: a member of the family of Field Marshal Ivan Paskevitch (1782–1856), Prince of Warsaw and Count of Erivan, one of the most celebrated Russian commanders of the 19th century. ↩
Princess Dolgorouky and the Emperor: a reference to the liaison between Tsar Alexander II and Princess Catherine Dolgorukova (1847–1922), who became his morganatic wife in 1880 after Empress Maria Alexandrovna's death. ↩