c.1860 Dramatic Letter from Dragoon Captain Léonce de Rochefort to French Author Aimé Giron on a Love Triangle, Sword Duel & Radish-Cart Disaster

On offer is an extraordinary and highly entertaining autograph letter signed by Pierre Léonce de Rochefort (1822–1892), a Captain in France’s 4th Dragoon Regiment, describing a romantic crisis so consuming that it interfered with his command of military manoeuvres, caused his horse to overturn a radish seller’s stall, and was followed (almost as an afterthought!) by a sword duel in which he drove “a few inches of iron” into a former schoolmate’s ribs.

Writing to a close friend, almost certainly during the period preceding his 1862 marriage, Rochefort confesses that his reason, heart and will have been thrown into turmoil by what he calls:

“un ouragan d’amour” [“a hurricane of love”].

He is torn between his “sweet and naïve Marie” [Marie Jeanne Noëmi Goyon (1838–1877), whom he would later marry] and a captivating new woman he calls “Aspasie.” The name is almost certainly a deliberately provocative classical allusion to Aspasia of Miletus, the celebrated companion of Pericles.

Rochefort describes this modern Aspasie as a dark-eyed coquette with a bearing both proud and enticing, admitting that his love for Marie is beginning to yield to friendship. Yet his bravado is tempered by genuine remorse: he now realizes that Marie truly loves him and fears her devastation if she discovers that she is “qu’elle n’est plus la reine de mon cœur” [“no longer the queen of my heart.”]

Rochefort describes his crush and questions his feelings for Marie, bravado eventually giving way to remorse and fear he will break Marie's heart if she discovers, “qu’elle n’est plus la reine de mon cœur” [“that she is no longer the queen of my heart”].

Rochefort writes with the theatrical energy and self-mockery of a man completely overwhelmed by his predicament. Rochefort admits that his sergeant-major had to prompt him through the morning’s military exercises, after which he became so distracted that his horse sent the travelling stall of a radish seller tumbling into the gutter. 

This dramatic letter takes another twist when Rochefort shares an experience with a former college classmate who drew him into a duel. He doesn't fully name the acquaintance, but provides an unflattering, detailed description of him, and describes his appetites by quoting Saint Basil in the original Ancient Greek—πρὸς τὴν γαστέρα καὶ τὰ ὑπ’ αὐτὴν συννεύοντας ζῆν [approximately, “to live bent toward the belly and the things beneath it”].  Rochefort recounts the subsequent duel with breathtaking nonchalance:

“J’ai planté à notre Epicurien quelques pouces de fer dans les côtes et suis revenu déjeuner sain et sauf.”
[“I planted a few inches of iron into the ribs of our Epicurean and returned safely to lunch.”]

More than a lively military letter, this is an unusually vivid piece of private nineteenth-century storytelling. Love, jealousy, masculine honour, cavalry life, classical education and casual violence collide across three pages written by a Dragoon captain with a flair for comic exaggeration. Rochefort emerges as an exceptional correspondent: cultivated enough to quote Greek patristic literature, self-aware enough to ridicule himself, and reckless enough to describe wounding a man before lunch as though it were merely a forgotten postscript.

Biographical Notes

Pierre Léonce de Rochefort (1822–1892) was a French cavalry officer and the son of Jean Emmanuel de Rochefort and Pauline Rollet. In the present letter he signs himself “Léonce de Rochefort, capitaine au 4ème dragons” [“Léonce de Rochefort, Captain in the 4th Dragoons”]. His command of Ancient Greek, familiarity with Saint Basil and reference to former college companions reveal the classical education underlying his military persona.

Rochefort married Marie Jeanne Noëmi Goyon (1838–1877) in 1862. If, as appears highly likely, she is the “Marie” discussed here, that marriage supplies a remarkable conclusion to the letter’s unresolved romantic drama, and dates the letter to the period before their marriage, likely circa 1860–1862. Because it is undated and does not give Marie’s surname, this identification and dating should be presented as strongly supported but not absolutely conclusive.

Condition: The manuscript consists of a single leaf folded in half (forming a bifolium) with writing on three of the four pages. It survives in good to very good antiquarian condition. The paper exhibits standard horizontal and vertical mailing folds, along with overall moderate rumpling and creasing. There is minor edge wear, including slight roughness and tiny nicks along the extremities, but no major tears, repairs, or loss of text. The ink remains bold and highly legible throughout, with only faint, natural ink show-through inherent to the 19th-century paper stock.  French language.