The immense wealth which this fascinating woman brought her husband enabled them to outshine the great majority of even the richest members of the French aristocracy. Her magnificent toilettes were the envy of all the women--the De Sagans’ horses and carriages excelled those of everybody else. The purple liveries, braided in gold, were singled out for special admiration by the crowd at Longchamp, where the Prince of Wales was seen fairly often. I have heard that the stables were not inferior to those of the Emperor. The luxe of the De Sagans’ residence was amazing. Very few, if any, royal palaces could show anything equal to it. There were said to be twelve hundred silver plates and dishes, and everything else was on a similarly regal scale.
A striking feature of the De Sagans’ hotel was the principal staircase, suggestive of the grand escalier at the Royal Palace at Madrid. The marble steps, covered with rich Aubusson carpeting; the cushions on the balustrades; the beautifully-decorated salons on the first floor; the bibelots of every kind; the white-and-gold adornments of the apartments; the galerie des glaces, scarcely less beautiful than the mirrored corridors at Versailles; the immense dining-room in which a hundred guests were often entertained; the rez-de-chaussée reserved for the use of the family; the park-like garden stretching over an immense area of the Faubourg Saint-Germain--how often did not our Prince see and admire all these!
The Princess had been the spoilt child of her wealthy father, who indulged her every caprice and humoured her every whim. Her jewels were the world’s talk at the time I am speaking of--and after. During one of her visits to London she made up her mind to appear at some great gathering in all her diamonds, and a telegram to Paris brought over one of the secretaries of her father (Baron Seillière) laden with the gems! Needless to describe the sensation which these bewildering stones, valued at many thousands of pounds, made in London.
Before very long the Prince and the Princess were living apart. Of the Prince and Baron Hirsch[82] this story is told by a friend of mine who was in the Bonapartist set during the reign.
The Prince de Sagan was offered by Baron Hirsch the liberal fee of £40,000 to go to Constantinople and conduct a business “deal.” Needless to say, the Prince closed with the tempting offer at once. The news soon reached the ears of the Princess, for, as M. de Blowitz very wittily said, “In Paris the fish talk--in Berlin the parrots are dumb.” Mme. de Sagan was furious, and, bursting in upon her husband at his bachelor’s “diggings” near the Petit Club (his favourite cercle), angrily exclaimed: “Is what I have heard true, Boson?” “What, ma chère?” innocently inquired the dandy. “That you are going to sell your name--going to be the commission agent and tout of that Jew Hirsch for some speculation of his in Turkey? Is it true?” “Hélas, ma chère, it is only too true. As I have but little money, and can hardly make both ends meet on what you allow me, I am forced to take advantage of any opportunity which arises to add to my scanty store.” “Oh, you are going to Turkey for the sake of the money which that Hirsch gives you?” “Of course; why else should I take the trouble of going all the way to Constantinople about this wretched railway business, dont je m’en fiche comme de l’année quarante?” (Which I care no more for than for the year forty.) “Well, then,” continued the Princess, now somewhat mollified, “if you got the same amount as that which Hirsch offers you, you would give up all idea of going?” “Ma foi, oui,” smiled the Prince. “Will you promise?” asked “Canaillette,” suspiciously. “Yes, I will promise.” “How much did Hirsch say he would give you?” “Oh, a bagatelle to you, but a large sum to me--a million francs.” “Indeed! Well, I will send you a cheque for the million this afternoon, on condition that you give up this absurd, degrading trip to Turkey. Is it a bargain?” The Prince, much amused at his wife’s earnestness, kissed her hand, thanked her, and accepted the terms. That afternoon De Sagan received Madame’s promised cheque, and the next morning saw him with one for a similar amount in his pocket from Baron Hirsch on his way to Constantinople!