The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt Volume VI Part 108

Casanova complained of the Faulkircher incident to the mother of Count Waldstein, who wrote: "I pity you, Monsieur, for being obliged to live among such people and in such evil company, but my son will not forget that which he owes to himself and I am sure he will give you all the satisfaction you wish." Also to his friend Zaguri, who wrote, the 16th March: "I hope that the gout in your hand will not torment you any more.

... You have told me the story I asked about and which begins: 'Two months have pa.s.sed since an officer, who is at Vienna, insulted me!'

I cannot understand whether he who wrote you an insulting letter is at Vienna or whether he is at Dux. When will the Count return? ... You should await his return because you would have, among other reasons to present to him, that of not wis.h.i.+ng to have recourse to other jurisdiction than his... You say your letters have been intercepted?

Someone has put your portrait in the privy? The devil! It is a miracle that you have not killed someone. Positively, I am curious to know the results and I hope that you make no mistakes in this affair which appears to me very delicate."

In August 1792, or thereabouts, Da Ponte on his way to Dresden, visited Casanova at Dux, in the hope of collecting an old debt, but gave up this hope on realizing Casanova's limited resources. In the winter of 1792-3 Da Ponte found himself in great distress in Holland. "Casanova was the only man to whom I could apply," he writes in his Memoirs. "To better dispose him, I thought to write him in verse, depicting my troubles and begging him to send me some money on account of that which he still owed me. Far from considering my request, he contented himself with replying, in vulgar prose, by a laconic billet which I transcribe: 'When Cicero wrote to his friends, he avoided telling them of his affairs.'"

In May 1793, Da Ponte wrote from London: "Count Waldstein has lived a very obscure life in London, badly lodged, badly dressed, badly served, always in cabarets, cafes, with porters, with rascals, with ... we will leave out the rest. He has the heart of an angel and an excellent character, but not so good a head as ours."

Toward the end of 1792, Cssanova wrote a letter to Robespierre, which, as he advises M. Opiz, the 13th January 1793, occupied one hundred and twenty folio pages. This letter was not to be found at Dux and it may possibly have been sent, or may have been destroyed by Casanova on the advice of Abbe O'Kelly. Casanova's feelings were very bitter over the trial of Louis XVI., and in his letters to M. Opiz he complained bitterly of the Jacobins and predicted the ruin of France. Certainly, to Casanova, the French Revolution represented the complete overthrow of many of his cherished illusions.

On the 1st August 1793, Wilhelmina Rietz, Countess Lichtenau (called the Pompadour of Frederic-William II., King of Prussia) wrote to the librarian at Dux:

"Monsieur

"It seems impossible to know where Count Valstaine [Waldstein] is staying, whether he is in Europe, Africa, America, or possibly the Megamiques. If he is there, you are the only one who could insure his receiving the enclosed letter.

"For my part, I have not yet had time to read their history, but the first reading I do will a.s.suredly be that.

"Mademoiselle Chappuis has the honor of recalling herself to your memory, and I have that of being your very humble servant,

"Wilhelmina Rietz."

The allusions to a "history" and to the 'Megamiques' in this letter refer to Casanova's romance, 'Icosameron'.

About this time, Count Waldstein returned to Dux after having been, at Paris, according to Da Ponte, concerned in planning the flight of Louis XVI., and in attempting to save the Princess Lamballe. On the 17th August, Casanova replied to the above letter:

"Madame,

"I handed the Count your letter two minutes after having received it, finding him easily. I told him that he should respond at once, for the post was ready to go; but, as he begged to wait for the following ordinary, I did not insist. The day before yesterday, he begged me to wait again, but he did not find me so complaisant. I respond to you, Madame, for his carelessness in replying to letters is extreme; he is so shameful that he is in despair when he is obliged to it. Although he may not respond, be sure of seeing him at your house at Berlin after the Leipzig Fair, with a hundred bad excuses which you will laugh at and pretend to believe good ones ... . This last month, my wish to see Berlin again has become immeasurable, and I will do my best to have Count Waldstein take me there in the month of October or at least to permit me to go ... . You have given me an idea of Berlin far different than that the city left with me when I pa.s.sed four months there twenty-nine years ago ... . If my 'Icosameron' interests you, I offer you its Spirit. I wrote it here two years ago and I would not have published it if I had not dared hope that the Theological Censor would permit it. At Berlin no one raised the least difficulty ... . If circ.u.mstances do not permit me to pay you my respects at Berlin, I hope for the happiness of seeing you here next year ... ."

Sometime after this and following his quarrel with M. Opiz, Casanova evidently pa.s.sed through a period of depression, as indicated by a ma.n.u.script at Dux, headed "Short reflection of a philosopher who finds himself thinking of procuring his own death," and dated "the 13th December 1793, the day dedicated to S. Lucie, remarkable in my too long life."

"Life is a burden to me. What is the metaphysical being who prevents me from slaying myself? It is Nature. What is the other being who enjoins me to lighten the burdens of that life which brings me only feeble pleasures and heavy pains? It is Reason. Nature is a coward which, demanding only conservation, orders me to sacrifice all to its existence. Reason is a being which gives me resemblance to G.o.d, which treads instinct under foot and which teaches me to choose the best way after having well considered the reasons. It demonstrates to me that I am a man in imposing silence on the Nature which opposes that action which alone could remedy all my ills.

"Reason convinces me that the power I have of slaying myself is a privilege given me by G.o.d, by which I perceive that I am superior to all animals created in the world; for there is no animal who can slay itself nor think of slaying itself, except the scorpion, which poisons itself, but only when the fire which surrounds it convinces it that it cannot save itself from being burned. This animal slays itself because it fears fire more than death. Reason tells me imperiously that I have the right to slay myself, with the divine oracle of Cen: 'Qui non potest vivere bene non vivat male.' These eight words have such power that it is impossible that a man to whom life is a burden could do other than slay himself on first hearing them."

Certainly, however, Casanova did not deceive himself with these sophisms, and Nature, who for many years had unquestionably lavished her gifts on him, had her way.

Over the end of the year, the two mathematicians, Casanova and Opiz, at the request of Count Waldstein, made a scientific examination of the reform of the calendar as decreed the 5th October 1793 by the National Convention.

In January 1795, Casanova wrote to the Princess Lobkowitz to thank her for her gift of a little dog. On the 16th the Princess wrote from Vienna:

"Monsieur,

"I am enchanted at the charming reception you accorded the dog which I sent you when I learned of the death of your well-loved greyhound, knowing that she would nowhere be better cared for than with you, Monsieur. I hope with all my heart that she has all the qualities which may, in some fas.h.i.+on, help you to forget the deceased ... ."

In the autumn of 1795, Casanova left Dux. The Prince de Ligne writes in his Memoirs: "G.o.d directed him to leave Dux. Scarcely believing in more than his death, which he no longer doubted, he pretended that each thing he had done was by the direction of G.o.d and this was his guide. G.o.d directed him to ask me for letters of recommendation to the Duke of Weimar, who was my good friend, to the d.u.c.h.ess of Gotha, who did not know me, and to the Jews of Berlin. And he departed secretly, leaving for Count Waldstein a letter at once tender, proud, honest and irritating. Waldstein laughed and said he would return. Casanova waited in ante-chambers; no one would place him either as governor, librarian or chamberlain. He said everywhere that the Germans were thorough beasts. The excellent and very amiable Duke of Weimer welcomed him wonderfully; but in an instant he became jealous of Goethe and Wieland, who were under the Duke's protection. He declaimed against them and against the literature of the country which he did not, and could not, know. At Berlin, he declaimed against the ignorance, the superst.i.tion and the knavery of the Hebrews to whom I had addressed him, drawing meanwhile, for the money they claimed of him, bills of exchange on the Count who laughed, paid, and embraced him when he returned. Casanova laughed, wept, and told him that G.o.d had ordered him to make this trip of six weeks, to leave without speaking of it, and to return to his chamber at Dux. Enchanted at seeing us again, he agreeably related to us all the misfortunes which had tried him and to which his susceptibility gave the name of humiliations. 'I am proud,' he said, 'because I am nothing'... . Eight days after his return, what new troubles! Everyone had been served strawberries before him, and none remained for him."

The Prince de Ligne, although he was Casanova's sincere friend and admirer, gives a rather somber picture of Casanova's life at Dux: "It must not be imagined that he was satisfied to live quietly in the refuge provided him through the kindness of Waldstein. That was not within his nature. Not a day pa.s.sed without trouble; something was certain to be wrong with the coffee, the milk, the dish of macaroni, which he required each day. There were always quarrels in the house. The cook had ruined his polenta; the coachman had given him a bad driver to bring him to see me; the dogs had barked all night; there had been more guests than usual and he had found it necessary to eat at a side table. Some hunting-horn had tormented his ear with its blasts; the priest had been trying to convert him; Count Waldstein had not antic.i.p.ated his morning greeting; the servant had delayed with his wine; he had not been introduced to some distinguished personage who had come to see the lance which had pierced the side of the great Wallenstein; the Count had lent a book without telling him; a groom had not touched his hat to him; his German speech had been misunderstood; he had become angry and people had laughed at him."

Like Count Waldstein, however, the Prince de Ligne made the widest allowances, understanding the chafing of Casanova's restless spirit.

"Casanova has a mind without an equal, from which each word is extraordinary and each thought a book."

On the 16th December, he wrote Casanova: "One is never old with your heart, your genius and your stomach."

Casanova's own comment on his trip away from Dux will be found in the Memoirs. "Two years ago, I set out for Hamburg, but my good genius made me return to Dux. What had I to do at Hamburg?"

On the 10th December, Casanova's brother Giovanni [Jean] died. He was the Director of the Academy of Painting at Dresden. Apparently the two brothers could not remain friends.

Giovanni left two daughters, Teresa and Augusta, and two sons, Carlo and Lorenzo. While he was unable to remain friendly with his brother, Casanova apparently wished to be of a.s.sistance to his nieces, who were not in the best of circ.u.mstances, and he exchanged a number of letters with Teresa after her father's death.

On the occasion of Teresa Casanova's visit to Vienna in 1792, Princess Clari, oldest sister of the Prince de Ligne, wrote of her: "She is charming in every way, pretty as love, always amiable; she has had great success. Prince Kaunitz loves her to the point of madness."

In a letter of the 25th April 1796, Teresa a.s.sured her "very amiable and very dear uncle" that the cautions, which occupied three-fourths of his letter, were unnecessary; and compared him with his brother Francois, to the injury of the latter. On the 5th May, Teresa wrote:

"Before thanking you for your charming letter, my very kind uncle, I should announce the issue of our pension of one hundred and sixty crowns a year, which is to say, eighty crowns apiece; I am well satisfied for I did not hope to receive so much." In the same letter, Teresa spoke of seeing much of a "charming man," Don Antonio, who was no other than the rascally adventurer Don Antonio della Croce with whom Casanova had been acquainted since 1753, who a.s.sisted Casanova in losing a thousand sequins at Milan in 1763; who in 1767, at Spa, following financial reverses, abandoned his pregnant mistress to the charge of Casanova; and who in August 1795, wrote to Casanova: "Your letter gave me great pleasure as the sweet souvenir of our old friends.h.i.+p, unique and faithful over a period of fifty years."

It is probable that, at this time, Casanova visited Dresden and Berlin also. In his letter "To Leonard Snetlage," he writes: "'That which proves that revolution should arrive,' a profound thinker said to me in Berlin, last year, 'is that it has arrived.'"

On the 1st March, 1798, Carlo Angiolini, the son of Maria Maddalena, Casanova's sister, wrote to Casanova: "This evening, Teresa will marry M. le Chambellan de Veisnicht [Von Wessenig] whom you know well." This desirable marriage received the approval of Francesco also. Teresa, as the Baroness Wessenig, occupied a prominent social position at Dresden.

She died in 1842.

Between the 13th February and the 6th December 1796, Casanova engaged in a correspondence with Mlle. Henriette de Schuckmann who was visiting at Bayreuth. This Henriette (unfortunately not the Henriette of the Memoirs whose "forty letters" to Casanova apparently have not been located), had visited the library at Dux in the summer of 1786. "I was with the Chamberlain Freiberg, and I was greatly moved, as much by your conversation as by your kindness which provided me with a beautiful edition of Metastasio, elegantly bound in red morocco." Finding herself at Bayreuth in an enforced idleness and wis.h.i.+ng a stimulant, wis.h.i.+ng also to borrow some books, she wrote Casanova, under the auspices of Count Koenig, a mutual friend, the 13th February 1796, recalling herself to his memory. Casanova responded to her overtures and five of her letters were preserved at Dux. On the 28th May Henriette wrote:

"But certainly, my good friend, your letters have given me the greatest pleasure, and it is with a rising satisfaction that I pore over all you say to me. I love, I esteem, I cherish, your frankness ... .

I understand you perfectly and I love to distraction the lively and energetic manner with which you express yourself."

On the 30th September, she wrote: "You will read to-day, if you please, a weary letter; for your silence, Monsieur, has given me humors. A promise is a debt, and in your last letter you promised to write me at least a dozen pages. I have every right to call you a bad debtor; I could summon you before a court of justice; but all these acts of vengeance would not repair the loss which I have endured through my hope and my fruitless waiting ... . It is your punishment to read this trivial page; but although my head is empty, my heart is not so, and it holds for you a very living friends.h.i.+p."

In March 1797, this Henriette went to Lausanne and in May from there to her father's home at Mecklenburg.

IV -- CORRESPONDENCE WITH JEAN-FERDINAND OPIZ

On the 27th July 1792, Casanova wrote M. Opiz that he had finished the twelfth volume of his Memoirs, with his age at forty-seven years 1772.

"Our late friend, the worthy Count Max Josef Lamberg," he added, "could not bear the idea of my burning my Memoirs, and expecting to survive me, had persuaded me to send him the first four volumes. But now there is no longer any questions that his good soul has left his organs. Three weeks ago I wept for his death, all the more so as he would still be living if he had listened to me. I am, perhaps, the only one who knows the truth. He who slew him was the surgeon Feuchter at Cremsir, who applied thirty-six mercurial plasters on a gland in his left groin which was swollen but not by the pox, as I am sure by the description he gave me of the cause of the swelling. The mercury mounted to his esophagus and, being able to swallow neither solids nor fluids, he died the 23rd June of positive famine ... . The interest of the bungling surgeon is to say that he died of the pox. This is not true, I beg, you to give the lie to anyone you hear saying it. I have before my eyes four hundred and sixty of his letters over which I weep and which I will burn. I have asked Count Leopold to burn mine, which he had saved, and I hope that he will please me by doing it. I have survived all my true friends. 'Tempus abire mihi est' Horace says to me.

"Returning to my Memoirs ... I am a detestable man; but I do not care about having it known, and I do not aspire to the honor of the detestation of posterity. My work is full of excellent moral instructions. But to what good, if the charming descriptions of my offences excite the readers more to action than to repentance?

Furthermore, knowing readers would divine the names of all the women and of the men which I have masked, whose transgressions are unknown to the world, my indiscretion would injure them, they would cry out against my perfidy, even though every word of my history were true ... . Tell me yourself whether or not I should burn my work? I am curious to have your advice."

On the 6th May 1793, Casanova wrote Opiz: "The letter of recommendation you ask of me to the professor my brother for your younger son, honors me; and there is no doubt that, having for you all the estimation your qualities merit, I should send it to you immediately. But this cannot be. And here is the reason. My brother is my enemy; he has given me sure indications of it and it appears that his hate will not cease until I no longer exist. I hope that he may long survive me and be happy. This desire is my only apology."

"The epigraph of the little work which I would give to the public,"

Casanova wrote the 23rd August 1793, "is 'In pondere et mensura'. It is concerned with gravity and measure. I would demonstrate not only that the course of the stars is irregular but also that it is susceptible only to approximate measures and that consequently we must join physical and moral calculations in establis.h.i.+ng celestial movements. For I prove that all fixed axes must have a necessarily irregular movement of oscillation, from which comes a variation in all the necessary curves of the planets which compose their eccentricities and their orbits. I demonstrate that light has neither body nor spirit; I demonstrate that it comes in an instant from its respective star; I demonstrate the impossibility of many parallaxes and the uselessness of many others. I criticize not only Tiko-Brahi, but also Kepler and Newton ... .

"I wish to send you my ma.n.u.script and give you the trouble of publis.h.i.+ng it with my name at Prague or elsewhere ... . I will sell it to the printer or to yourself for fifty florins and twenty-five copies on fine paper when it is printed."