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Updated: June 26, 2025
The mother is very well, what luck! But what a sight! It was something to see. I am very tired, but very content and tell you so because you love me. G. Sand Thursday evening. I leave Tuesday for Nohant. LXXXIV. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, at Croisset Nohant, 21 June, 1868
Later on Balzac appears to have partly reconciled himself to her moral irregularities, on the convenient ground that she, like himself, was an exceptional being; and we hear of several visits he paid to Nohant, where he delighted in long hours of talk on social questions with a comrade to whom he need not show the galanteries d'epiderme necessary in intercourse with ordinary women.
And Liszt when in the full development of his genius, had, as we have seen, been the art-comrade of George Sand; he had spent the whole of the summer season of 1837 at Nohant, transcribing Beethoven's symphonies for the piano-forte whilst she wrote her romances; she was familiar with his marvellous improvisations. Nor was the charm of Chopin's gift less magical.
CLXVII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT Nohant, 27 June, 1870 Another grief for you, my poor old friend. I too have a great one, I mourn for Barbes, one of my religions, one of those beings who make one reconciled with humanity. You are perhaps in Paris, so as to try to console him. I have just written him, and I feel that you are struck again in your affections. What an age!
We buried ourselves in material things. We must return to the great tradition, hold no longer to life, to happiness, to money nor to anything; be what our grandfathers were, light, effervescing people. Once men passed their life in starving. The same prospect is on the horizon. What you tell me about poor Nohant is terrible. The country has suffered less here than with you.
Thereupon, fear of the aforesaid family, which wrote to another part of the same family living in Rouen, which latter has been to find a lawyer from whom my brother received a visit, so that ... in short, I was very stupid not to "get some benefit from the opportunity." Isn't it a fine piece of idiocy, eh? C. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, AT CEOISSET Nohant, 21 December, 1868
A certain refinement of cast distinguishes the type. Eugène Delacroix, in a letter describing a village festival at Nohant, remarks that if positive beauty is rare among the natives, ugliness is a thing unknown. A gentle, passive cast of countenance prevails among the women: "They are all St. Annes," as the artist expresses it.
One must, like the rhinoceros, retire into solitude and await one's death. CCLII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, in Paris Nohant, 15 March, 1873 Well, my old troubadour, we can hope for you very soon. I was worried about you. I am always worried about you.
Therefore, Aurore read poems and childish stories; she gained a smattering of Latin, and she was devoted to music and the elements of natural science. For the rest of the time she rambled with the country children, learned their games, and became a sort of leader in everything they did. Her only sorrow was the fact that her mother was excluded from Nohant.
Before the actual conclusion of the law-suit his appeal was withdrawn. As a result, the previous judgment in favor of Madame Dudevant was virtually confirmed, and the details were settled by private agreement. It is almost impossible to overrate the importance to George Sand of a conclusion that gave her back her old home of Nohant, and secured to her the permanent companionship of her children.
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