The Conversion of Princess Marthe Bibesco

A convert from Eastern Orthodoxy, she knew everyone in the literary world of her time in both France and England. An amazing woman!

From One Peter Five

By Robert Lazu Kmita, PhD

Sometimes, it is said about gifted persons who had the great joy of witnessing the conversion to the Christian (i.e., Catholic) faith of some of their acquaintances, that they “converted” such persons. In fact, this is an inaccurate statement. No human being can truly convert another human being to the supernatural truths of the Christian faith. This is a fact that can never be emphasized enough. Rigorously speaking, although someone may play a significant role in the process of another soul’s conversion, full and deep adherence to the supernatural Christian faith is solely the result of God’s active work. Only supernatural grace can bring about the conversion of a wandering soul. The only thing we can admit is that—indeed—some persons are involved in preparing the way for such fortunate events.

Without any doubt, Marie Arthur Lucien Théodore François Xavier Mugnier (1853–1944), better known in the Parisian artistic circles of the early 20th century as the abbot Mugnier (l’abbé Mugnier), had the extraordinary privilege of witnessing many conversions to the Catholic faith. The list is impressive: the countesses Anne Mathieu de Noailles (1873–1933) and Laure de Chevigné (1859–1936), the troubled writer, director, playwright, and painter Jean Cocteau (1889–1963), and, above all, the decadent novelist—unreservedly admired by Oscar Wilde—Joris-Karl Huysmans (1848–1907). To this substantial list belongs an admirably French writer of Greek-Romanian descent, Princess Marthe Bibesco (1886–1973).

Daughter of the Romanian aristocrat and diplomat John Lahovary (1844–1915), who was married to Princess Emma Mavrocordato (1860–1920) of Greek (Phanariot) descent, Marthe Lucie Lahovary (the future Princess Bibesco) received at home the finest classical education imaginable. She spoke fluently at least six languages—French, English, Romanian, German, Italian, and Greek. From all the pieces of this remarkable linguistic treasure, her favorite language was the one used by Shakespeare to create his masterpieces. This personal preference explains not only the diary pages she wrote in English, but also the friendships with British figures such as Winston Churchill, Christopher Thomson, and Ramsay MacDonald. Her prestige was so great that in 1934 the President of the United States, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and his wife, Eleanor Roosevelt, invited her to visit them. General Charles de Gaulle, President of France and an admirer of her writings, also invited Princess Bibesco to a reception in 1963.

Although she was involved in many diplomatic missions, her constant passion was always literature. Awarded in 1908 by the French Academy with its highest prize, she later received two more French literary awards: Marcelin-Guérin (1909) and Gustave Le Métais-Larivière (1966). In 1962 she was made a Chevalier de la Légion d’honneur, and in 1955 Princess Bibesco was received as a full member of the Royal Academy of French Language and Literature of Belgium (Académie royale de langue et de littérature françaises de Belgique).

Her literary qualities attracted, from the very beginning, the attention of the French public. The novels she wrote, usually inspired by historical and romantic themes, are filled with discreet yet precise biographical references. This passion, which pushed her to record the details of an exceptional life, generated an enormous number of diaries: over sixty-five volumes containing daily, chronological notes.[1] Both the originality and the charm of texts led important authors to describe her as a poet in disguise who wrote in prose. Some of her most original novels, such as the superb Isvor, le pays des saules (Isvor, the Land of Willows), published in Paris in 1923, seem to be autobiographical writings (which is only partially true). Personally, I consider this particular work one of the most interesting literary masterpieces published in the twentieth century.

Mircea Eliade (1907–1986), the renowned historian of religions at the University of Chicago, delivered an unforgettable presentation of her work before the Royal Academy of French Language and Literature of Belgium, in which he emphasized the almost mythological value of Princess Bibesco’s writings. Eliade did not fail to mention her friendship with Father Mugnier, the Catholic priest who had the privilege of witnessing her conversion to the Catholic Church:

Happily we have access to three large annotated volumes of her correspondence with Abbé Mugnier, La vie d’une amitié,[2] in which Princess Bibesco constantly refers to the structures and intent of her magnum opus. It is moreover in this admirable correspondence that one discovers Princess Bibesco’s true personality in all its complexity, and that one is able to grasp the exemplary value of her destiny. Since this descendant of Byzantium and of a Napoleonic general, this practicing Catholic raised in the tradition of the Eastern Church, this rich princess who lived half her life among the poor and the peasants, this linguist who wished to learn all the languages spoken by her ancestors and their adversaries, anticipates in a certain sense an exemplary model for the European of the future.[3]

Unfortunately, the conversion of Princess Marthe Bibesco to the Catholic Church is omitted in the vast majority of writings dedicated to her in France or Romania. However, her “official” biography, written by Ghislain de Diesbach, a Swiss aristocrat, succinctly describes the crucial moment of her reception into the Catholic Church.

This event represents the peak of the religious aspirations of a soul who, while living in Biarritz near the monastery of the nuns of Anglet, often thought of leaving the vain glory of this world in order to become a humble member of the convent. Even though her aspirations were not fulfilled, the desire to vigorously confront the temptations of this world bore fruit in her decision to convert from the Eastern Orthodox Church to the Catholic Church established by Our Lord Jesus Christ. Abbé Mugnier noted in his journal that on Christmas Eve of the year 1911, the Princess asked him about the procedure that must be followed in order to become a member of the Catholic Church.

As is the case with almost any conversion, certain problems arose. One of the troubling issues was related to the opinion of her husband, Prince George Bibesco: how would he react? By the mysterious care of Divine Providence, everything turned out well. The only thing her husband asked of her was that, when she was in Romania, in order to avoid the scandal provoked by the Orthodox press (as had happened when journalists learned that Prince Vladimir Ghika had converted to Catholicism),[4] Princess Bibesco should participate—together with her husband—in the Eastern liturgies.

As the journal kept by Princess Bibesco shows, she was received into the Catholic Church by Abbé Mugnier on 18 April 1912. Everything was discreet, in the Chapel of Saint Joseph de Cluny on Rue Méchain, where even today there is a small female congregation. After confession, the Princess received Holy Communion. At the end of the ceremony, the good Father invited her to a discussion over a cup of English tea. On that day, the holy priest noted in his journal that his spiritual daughter was “simple, upright, and rather candid.”[5]

Since the day of her conversion, the Princess faced the trials of life as a daughter of the Catholic Church. With elegance, she moved through the labyrinthine paths of society as a witness both to its vanity and to the literary achievements of the creators whom she had the privilege of meeting. If little remembrances remains of her political and diplomatic missions, her literary writings, by contrast, can still delight today. Among these shine the three volumes of correspondence with Father Mugnier, as well as another remarkable work: Le Confesseur et les poètes (The Confessor and the Poets).[6]

Published in 1970, this volume contains the Princess’s recollections of Abbé Mugnier and several of the most brilliant Catholic writers she met along the years: the Frenchmen Jean Cocteau, Marcel Proust, Robert de Montesquiou, Paul Valéry, and the Englishman Maurice Baring. What the author wished to highlight was the profoundly Christian influence exercised on many artists through Father Mugnier’s apostolate. Considering the inner struggles of the troubled writers and poets with whom he dealt, it is clear that this rare priest was guided by some very special graces.

A simple witness in some cases and, in others, a direct participant in the miracle of conversion of such souls, he lived at the very heart of modern French literature. In this way he was able to make his Master, Our Lord Jesus Christ, present in the darkness in which, at times, the light of eternal beauty shines. Such radiance is revealed to us in the creations of a convert encountered by the Princess and her spiritual father during their visit to Scotland.

In his brilliant monograph entitled Literary Converts, Joseph Pearce quotes two superb twin poems written by Maurice Baring (1874–1945):

My body is a broken toy
Which nobody can mend
Unfit for either play or ploy
My body is a broken toy;
But all things end.
The siege of Troy
Came one day to an end.
My body is a broken toy
Which nobody can mend.

…

My soul is an immortal toy
Which nobody can mar,
An instrument of praise and joy;
My soul is an immortal toy;
Though rusted from the world’s alloy
It glitters like a star;
My soul is an immortal toy
Which nobody can mar.[7]

To our surprise, Princess Marthe Bibesco was a direct witness to the birth of the first of these poems. A tireless traveler, she visited England many times. On one such occasion, in 1909, accompanied by Father Mugnier and other French friends, she met Baring, who guided them through Scotland. The Princess was astonished by his transformation. Already converted to Catholicism, Baring had become—in her words—from a “salon clown,” ready to do anything to amuse his circle, “a poor pilgrim on the road to Damascus.”[8] Returning to Scotland a few years later, the Princess observed Baring’s physical decline caused by the illness that, after years of suffering, would claim his life. Here is the description of that final visit:

This unstoppable evil inspired him to write a poem, which he copied for me with a trembling hand during my last visit:

I am the broken toy
That can’t be mended…[9]

Princess Marthe Bibesco received as a gift a verse from a poem that Maurice Baring, devastated by illness, was struggling to finish. In it we can recognize the first verse of the poem quoted by Joseph Pearce:

My body is a broken toy
Which nobody can mend…

Not by chance, the Princess immortalized in the pages of her diary this extraordinary Catholic poet, a good friend of G.K. Chesterton and H. Belloc. Less known today than his friends, he invites us to read and think, to think and read, recalling the unforgettable meetings of such chosen souls illuminated by the unfailing, gracious light of Faith.

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[1] The amplitude of her literary work is astonishing. The archive preserved at the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas at Austin has almost four hundred boxes of manuscripts, notebooks, letters and photographs.

[2]  Here are all the details of this wonderful work: Marthe Bibesco , La vie d'une amitié, ma correspondance avec l'abbé Mugnier  (1911-1944), Paris: Plon, 3 tomes, 1951/1955/1957.

[3] Mircea Eliade, “Marthe Bibesco and the Meeting of Eastern and Western Literature,” in Mircea Eliade, Symbolism, the Sacred, and the Arts, Edited by Diane Apostolos-Cappadona, New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1985, p. 157. Eliade’s text was presented to the members of the Royal Academy of French Language and Literature of Belgium (Académie royale de langue et de littérature françaises de Belgique) on 9 February 1977. For the first time it was published, in 1977, in its original language—French.

[4] See my article “Converting to Rome ‘in order to Become More Orthodox’:” https://onepeterfive.com/converting-to-rome-in-order-to-become-more-orthodox/ [Accessed: 15 January 2026].

[5]  Ghislain de Diesbach, La Princesse Bibesco 1886-1973 , Paris: Librairie Academique Perrin, 1986, p. 196. 

[6]  This is the complete reference: Princesse Bibesco, Le Confesseur et les poètes, avec des lettres inédites de Jean Cocteau, Marcel Proust, Robert de Montesquiou, Paul Valéry et Maurice Baring à abbé Mugnier , Paris: Grasset, 1970. 

[7] Joseph Pearce, Literary Converts. Spiritual Inspiration in an Age of Unbelief, San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1999, p. 193 and p. 198. The poems are from the monograph written by Laura Lovat, Maurice Baring: A Postscript, London, 1947, pp. 15-16.

[8]  Ghislain de Diesbach, La Princesse Bibesco 1886-1973 , ed. cit. , p. 221.  

[9] Ibid., p. 222.

Pictured: Princess Martha Bibescu (1886–1973), photographed in London, 9 July 1920