I.—HÉLÈNE MASSALSKI
(Paris 1771—1778)
In the rather demure little company of girls—Irish, German, Italian, English, and French—whom it has been my pleasant task to gather together, what on earth has naughty Hélène Massalski to do? And what good purpose could one hope to serve by reviving, for twentieth century Irish girls, and their mothers and teachers, the mischievous pranks and schoolgirl frolics of a little Polish maiden in her eighteenth century French convent? All I can say now is that Hélène Massalski will not be kept away. “Here she comes,” with her scribbled diary, like Galuppi, “with his old music,” and here’s all the good it brings:—
“What they lived once thus at Venice, where the merchants were the kings,”
or at least so they lived in a fashionable Parisian convent of the eighteenth century. Here we have (presented from a perfectly different point of view from that from which we studied our other little girls’ school lives) a picture of the education, which produced the exquisite and distinguished type of womanhood, represented by the “Grandes Dames” and great Salon-holders of the ancient régime. Poor little girls! Not a few of those who played “hunt the stag” through the spacious gardens of l’Abbaye-aux-Bois, or were formed to “le bon ton et le bel usage” in the society of Madame de Rochechouart, were to hold their last “Salon” soon enough in the filthy prisons of the Revolution. But gracious, high-hearted, and spirited to the end, one sees them do honour to something in their convent training, which makes it seem to us a thing very noble and fine indeed.
It is not in a schoolgirl’s diary—commenced when Hélène was ten years old—that one can expect to find a philosophical presentation of the aims and ideals of the education offered to the daughters of the noblest families of France by the Bernardines of the Abbaye-aux-Bois. When the little Polish Princess was scribbling her notes (and spoiling her hand, as she naïvely confesses) she had no other idea than to copy the big girls who had all succumbed to the fashionable craze for writing “Mémoires.” But she has managed to give us a very real and convincing picture of her school, and of her mistresses, and there is not a little educational wisdom to be garnered from her shrewd comments on her experiences.
I imagine my readers would not be particularly interested in the sequence of events in Polish politics—feuds between the two great rival Polish houses of Radiwill and Massalski; the election to the Throne of Poland of the Massalski candidate, Stanislaus Augustus, with Russian help; the sudden volte-face of the Massalski’s towards nationalism; the Confederation of Bar, and its éclatant defeat under Count Oginski—which sent into exile in Paris, in the year of grace 1771, the Prince-Bishop (Massalski) of Wilna. For us the Prince-Bishop is merely of importance as the uncle of Hélène, and the date of his exile is only of note as that of the year our little friend first went to school. She herself will tell us her first day’s experiences:—
“I first came to the Abbaye-aux-Bois on a Thursday. My uncle’s friend, Madame Geoffrin, brought me to the Abbess’s parlour, a beautiful room all in white and gold. Madame de Rochechouart came to the parlour with Mère Quatre-Temps, the latter being mistress of the Lower Division where I was to be.