She and he; Lavinia; Memoir

by George Sand

We glean from her letters that Madame Dudevant's health had given her serious cause for anxiety; but plenty of outdoor life, and the duties of the home, combined with her constitutional soundness, enabled her to overcome this drawback; she writes to her mother, about this period, in the same strain as before, describing her occupations and condition, and, speaking of her husband, says: "Dear papa is very busy with his harvest.... Dressed in a blouse, he is up at dawn, rake in hand.... As for us women, all day long we sit on corn-sheaves, that fill the yard. We read and work much, hardly ever thinking of going out. We enjoy a plenty of music." According to her own account, Madame Dudevant had become a settled countrywoman.

In 1829, Monsieur and Madame Dudevant passed two months in Bordeaux and at the home of her husband's mother; and on her return to Nohant in July she resumed her quiet home life, restricting the circle of her friends in conformity with her retired tastes. Here they enjoyed the society of her half-brother and his wife. But the period of outward calm and resignation to her condition was fast nearing its term. The relations between the husband and the wife were rapidly growing worse. Among the wife's occupations and diversions of this period were painting and composition. Of the former, Madame Dudevant speaks with enthusiasm later; already, in 1827, she had tried her hand at portrait-painting, for in a letter to her mother she writes: "I send you a profile drawing done from imagination; it is a regular daub. It is well that I should tell you that it is intended as a representation of Caroline. I am the only one who sees a likeness in it.... I also drew my own portrait.... Yet I did not succeed better than with Caroline's.... I laugh in its face on recognizing how pitiable it makes me look, so I dare not send it." And again, early in February, 1830, she sends a portrait of her son to her mother. It is well, as we shall soon see, that Madame Dudevant was so little encouraged by her efforts. Yet of her literary proclivities, which she also indulged by attempts at novel-writing, she was certainly not convinced, and of her ability in this direction still less so.

The education of her son Maurice had now become a matter of extreme importance to Madame Dudevant. The boy was six years old, and she was fortunate enough to secure as his tutor Monsieur Jules Boucoiran, of Paris, who later became her trusted friend and the wise counsellor of her son. How carefully Madame Dudevant still concealed her marital wretchedness from even her mother is evidenced in a letter written in December, 1829, in which she says: "What are you doing with my husband? Does he take you to the theatre? Is he cheerful? Is he good-tempered?... Make use of his arm while you can; make him laugh, for he is always as gloomy as an owl while he is in Paris." The crisis which finally separated the husband and wife was brought about by a discovery that wounded the already stricken heart beyond endurance. Monsieur Dudevant had become even brutal in his conduct; he had gone so far as actually to strike his wife.

One day, Madame Dudevant, while looking for something in her husband's desk, chanced upon a package addressed to herself, and bearing the direction: To be opened only on my death. Deeming that her health did not promise her survival of her husband, and seeing that the package was addressed to her, Madame Dudevant, anxious to know the estimation in which her husband held her, opened the package. Her letter to Monsieur Boucoiran, dated December 3, 1830, best tells the revelation. She writes: "Good God! what a will! For me nothing but maledictions. He had heaped up therein all his violence of temper and ill-will against me, all his reflections concerning my perversity, all his contempt for my character. And that was what he had bequeathed me as his token of affection! I believed that I was dreaming, I, who hitherto had been obstinately shutting my eyes and refusing to see that I was scorned. The reading of that will at last aroused me from my slumber.... My decision was taken, and, I dare declare, irrevocably."

Madame Dudevant at once informed her husband of her decision to leave him, and of the motives thereof. The explanations that followed led to an arrangement whereby Madame Dudevant was to receive from her husband an income of about three thousand francs, and to spend one-half of the year at Nohant and the other half in Paris. The care she took to keep the secret of her troubles from the world, for the sake of her children, may be understood from her letters. She desired that it should be supposed that she was leading a "separate life," hoping that, by her alternate residence in Paris and at Nohant, her husband would "learn circumspection." She writes to Monsieur Boucoiran, on December 8, 1830: "I must confess I am distressed at the thought that the secret of my domestic affairs may become known to others besides you.... The good understanding which, notwithstanding my separation from my husband, I desire to maintain in all that concerns my son, will compel me to act with as much caution when absent as when with him." The momentous step which was to result in Madame Dudevant's entire liberty of action, and, above all, in her giving to the world the masterpieces which soon rendered her famous, was taken in the early days of January, 1831, when, leaving her children, and her home at Nohant, with its cherished associations, she set out for Paris, armed with letters of introduction to one or two literary men, given her by friends at La Châtre.

But there was yet a wide chasm to be gulfed. Her equipment for the life of independence she contemplated was, in a material sense, very limited. Her income was insufficient to secure her the luxuries she had enjoyed at Nohant, and to which her tastes inclined. Her stout heart and indomitable will were, however, not to be shaken. She had cast the die. She would not face the humiliation of failure and a retreat from the position she had created. But live she must, and in her endeavors to secure a livelihood she sought to employ the accomplishments she had acquired. At first, she attempted translating, believing that her knowledge of English, obtained at the convent, would provide her the necessary income; but in this she was doomed to disappointment. Then, too, millinery and dressmaking proved profitless, in spite of long hours of daily toil. Somewhat better results attended her efforts to gain a sufficient subsistence by art. The pastime at Nohant now stood her in stead to some degree. She made a limited success in miniature paintings for fancy articles, such as cigar-cases, snuff-boxes, and tea-caddies. But she still failed in her purpose. So nearly, however, had she adopted art as a profession, that it appears that, had she not been discouraged by the price secured on one occasion, her energies would have been directed away from the field in which she attained her glory!

It is curious to find Madame Dudevant hesitating in her choice between literature and art. The decision was not long before being reached, happily for the world of literature, though it cannot be claimed that the choice was quite voluntary, if we may judge by her letters. Writing to Monsieur Boucoiran on January 13, 1831, she says: "I am embarking on the stormy sea of literature. For one must live," and, later, to Monsieur Duvernet she says that only the "profits of writing tempt my material and positive mind." That a dominant inclination for letters possessed her, however, is surely indicated in her early attempts at composition; even during the previous autumn, while at Nohant, she had wrought out a kind of romance in her grandmother's boudoir, with her children at her side, of which she says: "Having penned it, I was convinced that it was of no value, but that I might do less badly."

The decisive first step in her literary career was due probably more to the advice of Jules Sandeau than to any other cause; for, spite of the rare qualities she possessed, Madame Dudevant was diffident as to her powers. Jules Sandeau was, like herself, a native of Berry; they had formed each other's acquaintance at Nohant some time before the separation between Monsieur and Madame Dudevant. On receiving her confidences as to her straitened circumstances, Sandeau advised Madame Dudevant to adopt the literary career. It was soon arranged that the two should collaborate in writing an article for the Figaro, which was accepted with so much encouragement that others soon followed. Writing of this arrangement to Monsieur Duvernet, Madame Dudevant says: "I have resolved to associate him with my labors, or myself with his, as you may please to put it. Be it as it may, he lends me his name, as I do not wish mine to appear."

But the way to fame, though rapid, was not without discouragement. A novelette had been accepted by the Revue de Paris, but its publication was delayed in favor of known authors, and, meantime, the future favorite was scribbling articles for the Figaro, at the price of seven francs a column, which, she remarks, "enables me to eat and drink, and even attend the play." The drawbacks and discouragements she suffered were many; she writes to Monsieur Duvernet, in February, 1831: "Had I foreseen half the difficulties I encounter, I should never have entered on the career. But, the more the obstacles I meet with, the greater is my determination to go forward.... We must have a passion in life."

But, spite of this "passion," our author began her lifework under circumstances that might well have intimidated a less ardent and determined person. Her imperfect and fragmentary education; her crude and ill-digested ideas of social life; the bitter memories and smarts of domestic life; the disillusionment she had suffered in her hopes of marriage,—all these were sore obstacles; but she still had unbounded faith, a sympathetic mind and heart; and her poetic nature cast a lustre over all her thoughts. If she had no precise ideal, no well-matured method, if she lacked experience of the under-currents that swayed social and political circles, she was endowed with keen perceptive faculties and a rapid insight into character. She loved Nature passionately, and to the cry of human sorrow her heart was quickly responsive.