Furnished with these documents, the Baroness de Sternberg returned to Paris towards the close of the year 1824; but, it seems, neither these documents nor the personages who had set her going inspired great confidence; for, neither from Louis XVIII.,—who was not very fond of his cousin, since, under no pretext, would he ever allow him to be styled Royal Highness, while he reigned, saying that he would be always quite close enough to the throne,—nor from Charles X., could she obtain any support in aid of the restitution of her name and of her estates.
When Charles X. fell and the Duc d'Orléans became king, matters were even worse for her. There was no means of appealing from Philip asleep to Philip awake. Intimidation had no effect; the most determined enemies of the new king did not wish to soil their hands with this claim, which they regarded in the light of a conspiracy, and Maria-Stella remained in Paris, without so much as the notoriety of the persecution she expected to receive. She lived at the top of the rue de Rivoli, near the rue Saint-Florentin, on the fifth floor; and in the absence of two-footed, featherless courtiers, she held a court of two-clawed feathered creatures which waked the whole rue de Rivoli at five o'clock in the morning with their chatter. Those of my readers who live in Paris may perhaps recollect to have seenflocks of impudent sparrows swooping down, whirling by thousands about the balconied windows: these three windows were those of Maria-Stella-Petronilla Newborough, Baroness of Sternberg, who, in order not to give the lie to herself, to the end of her life signed herself "Née Joinville."
She died in 1845, the day after the opening of the Chambers. Her last words were—
"Hand me the paper, that I may read the speech of that villain!"
She had not been outside her door for five years, for fear, she said, of being arrested by the king. The poor creature had become almost mad....
About three weeks after I had made the copy of the memorandum concerning her, M. Oudard called me into his office and informed me that I had beenplaced on the regular staff.In other words, I was given a berth at a salary of twelve hundred francs, in reward for my good handwriting and my cleverness in the matter of making envelopes and sealing. I had no reason to complain: Béranger had exactly the same on his entry into the University.
I sent my mother this good news the same day, begging her to get ready to come to me as soon as I had received the first payment of my increased salary.
[1]I do not know whether the Abbé de Saint-Phar saw or did not see Maria-Stella. I merely transcribe the memoirs of that lady.
[1]I do not know whether the Abbé de Saint-Phar saw or did not see Maria-Stella. I merely transcribe the memoirs of that lady.
[2]The translator is obliged to a legal friend for the version of the above documents.
[2]The translator is obliged to a legal friend for the version of the above documents.
The "year of trials"—The case of Potier and the director of the theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin—Trial and condemnation of Magallon—The anonymous journalist—Beaumarchais sent to Saint-Lazare—A few words on censorships in general—Trial of Benjamin Constant—Trial of M. de Jouy—A few words concerning the author ofSylla—Three letters extracted from theErmite de la Chaussée-d'Antin—Louis XVIII. as author
The "year of trials"—The case of Potier and the director of the theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin—Trial and condemnation of Magallon—The anonymous journalist—Beaumarchais sent to Saint-Lazare—A few words on censorships in general—Trial of Benjamin Constant—Trial of M. de Jouy—A few words concerning the author ofSylla—Three letters extracted from theErmite de la Chaussée-d'Antin—Louis XVIII. as author
My anxiety to bring my readers along, without interruption, to the moment when my lot and that of my mother was settled, by my being placed on the staff as a copying-clerk at twelve hundred francs, has caused me to pass over a host of events of far greater interest, no doubt, to strangers, than those I have related, but which—if egotism may be permitted me—in my own eyes, and to my mind, should take a secondary place.
The year 1823, which we might style the "year of trials," opened by the trial of Potier on 7 January. Those who never saw Potier can form no conception of the influence this great comedian, who was much admired by Talma, had on the public; yet the damages and compensation that M. Serres, the manager of the Porte-Sainte-Martin, demanded from him, may give some idea of the value that was put upon him. One morning Potier, faithful, as M. Étienne would have said, to hisfirst loves, took it into his head to return to the Variétés, a project which he carried out, it appears, forgetting to ask M. Serres to cancel his engagement before he left. Now Potier had been acting the part of old Sournois inPetites Dandaïdes, with such success both in the way of applause and in packed houses, that M. Serres not only refused to sanction this desertion, but reckoning up the losses which he considered Potier hadcaused him by his departure, and would cause him in the future, because of this same departure, decided, after sending through the sheriffs officer his account to the famous comedian, to send a duplicate copy of it to the first Chamber of the Royal Court. The odd thing about the account was that the manager of the theatre of Porte-Sainte-Martin claimed absolutely nothing but what was due to him under the terms of his contract. These are the particulars of his claim:—
1. For each day's delay, reckoning at thehighest receipts taken in the theatre,from 1 March 1822 to 1 April inthe same year, being at a rateof three thousand six hundred andeleven francs ... 144,408 fr.2. Restitution of money.. 30,000 "3. Amount paid in advance, forfeited. 20,000 "4. Damage and compensation.. 60,000 "5. For one hundred and twenty-two dayswhich have expired since the first claim.... 440,542 "6. For the seven years and ten monthswhich remain to run before the end of theengagement.. 10,322,840 "7. Finally, as damages and compensationin respect of this period of seven years.... 200,000 "Total. 11,217,790 "
If the manager of the Porte-Sainte-Martin had had the misfortune to win his case, he would have been obliged to pay Potier, in order to notify the sentence, a registration fee of three to four hundred thousand francs.
The Court condemned Potier to resume his engagement within a week's time: as to damages and compensation, it condemned him,par corps, to pay them according to the estimated scale.Three days later, it was known that the matter had been settled, less a discount of eleven million two hundred and seven thousand seven hundred and ninety francs made by the manager.
On 8 February it was the turn of Magallon, the chief editor of theAlbum.Magallon appeared before the seventh Chamber of the Police Correctional Court, accused of having hidden political articles under the cloak of literature, with intent to incite hatred and contempt towards the Government. The Court condemned Magallon to thirteen months' imprisonment and to pay a fine of two thousand francs.
It was a monstrous sentence, and it created great uproar; but a far greater scandal still, or rather, what converted a matter of scandal into an outrage, was that for this slight literary offence, and on the pretext that the sentence exceeded one year, Magallon was taken to the central prison of Poissy, on foot, with his hands bound, tied to a filthy criminal condemned afresh to penal servitude, who, dead-drunk, kept yelling unceasingly the whole way, "Long live galley slaves! honour to, all galley slaves!"
When they reached Poissy, Magallon was put into prison clothes. From that evening he had to live on skilly and learn to pick oakum.... We content ourselves with relating the bare facts; although we cannot resist adding that they happened under the reign of a prince who pretended to be a man of letters, since he had ordered a quatrain from Lemierre and a comedy from Merville....
We have already related that M. Arnault, whoseMarius à Minturneshad succeeded, in spite of Monsieur's prediction, paid, in all probability, for this want of respect for the opinion of His Royal Highness by four years of exile, on the return of the Bourbons.
And this was not Louis XVIII.'s first attempt on hisconfrères, the men of letters. Without mentioning M. de Chateaubriand, whom he hounded out of the ministry as though he were a lackey,—an act which caused that worthy gentleman to remark, on receiving his dismissal, "It is strange, for I have not stolen the king's watch!"—without counting Magallon, whom he sentto Poissy chained to a scurvy convict; without counting M. Arnault, whom he banished from the country; there was, besides, a little story of the same kind in connection with Beaumarchais.
More than once has M. Arnault related in my hearing the curious and too little known history of Beaumarchais' imprisonment. These are the facts.
There is always a public Censorship, except during the first two or three months following the accession of princes to the throne, and the two or three months after they are deposed; but when these three months have elapsed, the Censorship reappears on the waters after its plunge, and proceeds to discover some minister, preferably of Liberal or even Republican tendencies, and to lay a snare for him.
When theMariage de Figarowas running its course, M. Suard was censor, and he was also a journalist. He was one of those who had most bitterly opposed the representation of Beaumarchais' work, and he was largely responsible for the fifty-nine journeys—du marais à la police—that the illustrious author made without being able to obtain leave for his play to be performed.
At length, thanks to the intervention of the queen and the Comte d'Artois, theFolle Journée, recovered intact out of the claws of these gentlemen, was played on 27 April 1784. M. Suard was vindictive both in his capacity as censor and as a journalist; so that if he could not exercise the Censorship by the use of scissors, he had recourse to his pen. M. Suard was on very familiar terms with the Comte de Provence, and he served the Comte de Provence as a screen when His Royal Highness wished to give vent, incognito, to some petty literary spite. M. le Comte de Provence detested Beaumarchais almost as much as did M. Suard himself; the result was that the Comte de Provence hastened to unburden himself, by means of M. Suard, in theJournal de Paris, against the unfortunateMariage de Figaro, which continued its successful run, in spite of M. Suard's signed articles or the anonymous articles of His Royal Highness. In the meantime, Beaumarchaishanded over the sum of about thirty or forty thousand francs which he received as author's rights in theMariage de Figaroto theassociation for helping poor foster-mothers.
Monsieur, who had not got a child (a less polite chronicler than myself would say who was incapable of begetting one), and who consequently, owing to his failing in this respect, had not much sympathy withfoster-mothers, indulged himself, always under the cloak of anonymity, in attacking the man, after having attacked the play, and wrote a letter against him in theJournal de Paris, overflowing with venomous spleen. Beaumarchais, who thought he recognised this onslaught as from the hand of M. Suard, proceeded to lash the pedant soundly. As ill-luck would have it, it was His Royal Highness who received the tanning intended for the censor's hide. Monsieur, smarting under the stripes, went with the story of his grievances to Louis XVI., giving him to understand that Beaumarchais was perfectly well aware that he was not replying to the royal censor, but to the brother of the king. Louis XVI.; offended on behalf of Monsieur, commanded the citizen who dared to take the liberty of chastising a royal personage, regardless of his rank, to be arrested and taken to a house of correction—not to the Bastille, that prison being considered too good for such a worthless scamp; and as His Majesty was playing loo when he made this decision, it was on the back of a seven of spades that the order was written for Beaumarchais' arrest and his committal to Saint-Lazare.
Thus we see that, when Louis XVIII. had Magallon taken to Poissy, he remained faithful to Monsieur's traditions.
... Apropos of the Censorship, a good story of the present censor is going the rounds this 6th of June, 1851. We will inquire into it and, if it be true, we will relate it in the next chapter.
This excellent institution furnishes so many other instances of a like nature that its facts and achievements have to be registered regardless of chronological order, where and when one can, lest one run the risk of forgetting them, and that I would indeed be a sad pity!...
Revenons à nos moutons!our poormoutonsshorn to the quick, like Sterne's lamb.
I have remarked that the year 1823 was the "year of trials"; let us see how it earned that name.
During the week that elapsed between the Magallon affair and the sentence passed on him, Benjamin Constant appeared before the Royal Court, on account of two letters: one addressed to M. Mangin, procurator-general at the Court of Poitiers, and the other to M. Carrère, sub-prefect of Saumur. As it was a foregone conclusion that Benjamin Constant was to be condemned, the Court sentenced him to pay a fine of a thousand francs and costs.
On 29 January—a week before this happened—the Correctional Police sentenced M. de Jouy to a month's imprisonment, a fine of a hundred and fifty francs and the costs of the trial, for an article in theBiographie des contemporainswhich had been recognised as his. This article was the biography of the brothers Faucher. The sentence created a tremendous sensation. M. de Jouy was then at the height of his fame: theErmite de la Chaussée-d'Antinhad made him popular, the hundred representations ofSyllahad made him famous.
I knew M. de Jouy well: he was a remarkably loyal man, with a delightful mind and an easy pen. I believe he had been a sailor, serving in India, where he knew Tippo-Sahib, upon whom he founded a tragedy, commissioned, or very nearly so, by Napoleon, which was acted on 27 January 1813. The work was indifferent and did not meet with much success.
On the return of the Bourbons, the Court was half-heartedly willing to encourage men of letters, M. de Jouy in particular, who held one of the highest positions among them. It was the more easily managed since M. de Jouy was an old Royalist, and I believe a soldier of Condi's army; it was not a case of making a convert but retaining an old partisan. His articles in theGazette, signed "l'Ermite de la Chaussée-d'Antin," had an enormous success. I heard it said at the time that M. de Jouy was called up before M. de Vitrolles and asked to mention what it was he wanted. What he wanted was the due recognitionof his services, namely, the Cross of Saint-Louis,—for, as a rule, straightforward men only desire things they are entitled to;—desiring the Cross, and having deserved it, he asked for it. But they wished to force conditions upon him: they desired that he should not merely be satisfied with refraining from pointing fun at the absurdities of the Restoration; they wanted him to emphasise the glories of the Empire. They wanted him to do a base action before he, a loyal soldier, a clean-handed man, a poet of considerable repute among hisconfrères, could obtain the Cross. What happened? The noted poet, the loyal soldier, the honest man, said that the Cross should go to Hades first, and he showed the person who came to propose these conditions to the door. It was the right way to treat the minister, but it was unlucky for the Cross, which would not have honoured M. de Jouy, but which M. de Jouy would have honoured! And behold M. de Jouy in the Opposition, behold M. de Jouy writing articles in theBiographiewhich cost him a month's imprisonment, and which increased his popularity twofold. What fools Governments are to refuse a man the Cross he asks, and to grant him the persecution he does not desire, the persecution which will be far more benefit to him, in honour and in worldly goods, than the bit of ribbon which nobody would have noticed! Moreover, M. de Jouy did not write anything so very reprehensible. No; on the contrary, M. de Jouy was distinguished for the suavity of his criticism, the urbanity of his opposition, the courtesy of his anger. The manner adopted by this good Ermite has long since been forgotten; and the generation which followed ours has not even read his works. Heigho! if the said generation reads me, it will read him; for I am about to open his works and to quote some pages from them at hap-hazard. They go back to the first months of the second return of the Bourbons, to the period when all the world lived out in the squares, to the time when everybody seemed eager after I know not what: after a Revolution, one has need to hate men; but after a Restoration, one can do nothing but despise them!
M. B. de L—— is overwhelmed with requests for positionsand writes to the Ermite de la Chaussée-d'Antin to beg him to insert the following letters in his paper:—
"MONSIEUR,—We have neither of us time to spare, so I will explain to you the object of my letter in a very few words. I formerly had the honour to be attached to one of the princes of the house of Bourbon; I may even have been so fortunate as to show some proofs of my devotion to that august family at a time when, if not meritorious, it was at least dangerous to allow one's zeal to leak out; but I endeavour not to forget that the Mornays, the Sullys, the Crillons would modestly style this the fulfilment of one's duty. I am unaware upon what grounds people in my province credit me with what I do not enjoy, and to which I am indebted for the hosts of solicitations I receive, without being able to be of service to those who apply to me. I have only discovered one method of escaping from this novel form of persecution—that is, to publish a letter of one of my relatives and the answer I thought fit to make to it. The first is in some measure a résumé of three or four hundred letters that I have received on the same topic. I am the less reluctant to make it public since I reserve to myself the right of holding back the writer's name, and besides, this letter reflects as much credit on the heart of the writer as it displays the good sense of the mind that dictated it."B. DE L——"
"MONSIEUR,—We have neither of us time to spare, so I will explain to you the object of my letter in a very few words. I formerly had the honour to be attached to one of the princes of the house of Bourbon; I may even have been so fortunate as to show some proofs of my devotion to that august family at a time when, if not meritorious, it was at least dangerous to allow one's zeal to leak out; but I endeavour not to forget that the Mornays, the Sullys, the Crillons would modestly style this the fulfilment of one's duty. I am unaware upon what grounds people in my province credit me with what I do not enjoy, and to which I am indebted for the hosts of solicitations I receive, without being able to be of service to those who apply to me. I have only discovered one method of escaping from this novel form of persecution—that is, to publish a letter of one of my relatives and the answer I thought fit to make to it. The first is in some measure a résumé of three or four hundred letters that I have received on the same topic. I am the less reluctant to make it public since I reserve to myself the right of holding back the writer's name, and besides, this letter reflects as much credit on the heart of the writer as it displays the good sense of the mind that dictated it.
"B. DE L——"
This is the relative's letter:—
"How glad I am, my friend, that events have brought back our illustrious princes to the throne! What good fortune it is! You have no notion what reputation these events and your stay in Paris give me here. The prefect is afraid of me, and his wife, who never used to bow to me, has invited me twice to dinner. But there is no time to be lost, and we rely on you. Would you believe that my husband has not yet taken any steps whatever to regain his position, pretending that it exists no longer, and that the commission was made up to him in assignats? There isn't a more apathetic man in the whole of France."My brother-in-law has laid claim to the Cross of Saint-Louis: he had been waiting for it for nine years when the Revolution broke out. It would be unjust of them not to compensate himfor the twenty years of his services, the troubles and the misfortunes he has undergone on his estates; he is counting on you to hasten the prompt despatch of his patent."I append a memorandum to my letter, from my oldest son, the marquis; he had the right to his uncle's reversion, and it will be easy for you to obtain it for him. I am anxious that his brother, the chevalier, shall be placed in the navy, but in a rank worthy of his name and the past services of his family. And as my grandson, Auguste de G——, is quite old enough I to become a page, you have only to speak a word on his behalf."We are coming to Paris early next month. I shall bring my daughter with me, as I wish to present her at Court. They will not refuse you this favour if you solicit it with sufficient perseverance and willingness."Think of poor F——. He failed us, it is true, at the time of the Revolution; but he has made ample amends during the past month: you know he is penniless, and is ready to sacrifice everything for our rulers. His devotion goes even so far as to be willing to take a post as prefect, and he is well fitted for it. Do you not remember the pretty song he made about me?"M. de B——, son of the late intendant of the province, is coming to see you; try and be useful to him; he is a friend of the family. If they are not going to re-establish intendancies, he will be satisfied with a post as receiver-general; it is the least they can do for a man devoted to his sovereign, one who was imprisoned for six months during the Terror."I must not forget to recommend M—— to your notice. He has been blamed for having served all parties, because he has been employed in every Government in France for the last twenty years; but he is a good fellow—you can take my word for it: he was the first to don the white cockade; besides, all he asks is to be allowed to keep his place as superintendent of the posting service. Be sure and write to me under cover of his frank."I append my father-in-law's papers: a sum of forty-five thousand francs is still owing to him from the estates of Languedoc; I hope they will not keep you waiting for its reimbursement, and that you will not hesitate to make use of the money if you are under any temporary embarrassment, though this is very unlikely in your present situation.Adieu, my dear cousin. With greetings in which the whole family unite, and expecting the pleasure of seeing you soon in Paris."J. DE P——"
"How glad I am, my friend, that events have brought back our illustrious princes to the throne! What good fortune it is! You have no notion what reputation these events and your stay in Paris give me here. The prefect is afraid of me, and his wife, who never used to bow to me, has invited me twice to dinner. But there is no time to be lost, and we rely on you. Would you believe that my husband has not yet taken any steps whatever to regain his position, pretending that it exists no longer, and that the commission was made up to him in assignats? There isn't a more apathetic man in the whole of France.
"My brother-in-law has laid claim to the Cross of Saint-Louis: he had been waiting for it for nine years when the Revolution broke out. It would be unjust of them not to compensate himfor the twenty years of his services, the troubles and the misfortunes he has undergone on his estates; he is counting on you to hasten the prompt despatch of his patent.
"I append a memorandum to my letter, from my oldest son, the marquis; he had the right to his uncle's reversion, and it will be easy for you to obtain it for him. I am anxious that his brother, the chevalier, shall be placed in the navy, but in a rank worthy of his name and the past services of his family. And as my grandson, Auguste de G——, is quite old enough I to become a page, you have only to speak a word on his behalf.
"We are coming to Paris early next month. I shall bring my daughter with me, as I wish to present her at Court. They will not refuse you this favour if you solicit it with sufficient perseverance and willingness.
"Think of poor F——. He failed us, it is true, at the time of the Revolution; but he has made ample amends during the past month: you know he is penniless, and is ready to sacrifice everything for our rulers. His devotion goes even so far as to be willing to take a post as prefect, and he is well fitted for it. Do you not remember the pretty song he made about me?
"M. de B——, son of the late intendant of the province, is coming to see you; try and be useful to him; he is a friend of the family. If they are not going to re-establish intendancies, he will be satisfied with a post as receiver-general; it is the least they can do for a man devoted to his sovereign, one who was imprisoned for six months during the Terror.
"I must not forget to recommend M—— to your notice. He has been blamed for having served all parties, because he has been employed in every Government in France for the last twenty years; but he is a good fellow—you can take my word for it: he was the first to don the white cockade; besides, all he asks is to be allowed to keep his place as superintendent of the posting service. Be sure and write to me under cover of his frank.
"I append my father-in-law's papers: a sum of forty-five thousand francs is still owing to him from the estates of Languedoc; I hope they will not keep you waiting for its reimbursement, and that you will not hesitate to make use of the money if you are under any temporary embarrassment, though this is very unlikely in your present situation.Adieu, my dear cousin. With greetings in which the whole family unite, and expecting the pleasure of seeing you soon in Paris.
"J. DE P——"
[Answer]
"PARIS, 15June1814"MY DEAR COUSIN,—You can hardly conceive with what interest I have read the letter you have done me the honour to send me, or with what zeal I have tried to further the just and reasonable demands of all the persons you recommend to my notice. You will, not be more astonished than I have been myself at the obstacles placed in my way, which you would deem insurmountable if you knew as well as I the people with whom we have to deal."When I spoke of your son, who has long been desirous of service, and asked for a berth as major in his father's old regiment, they urged, as a not unreasonable objection, that peace was concluded, and that before thinking of a position for the Marquis de V——, they must consider the lot of 25,000 officers, some of whom (would you believe it?) press for the recognition of their campaigns, their wounds, and even go so far as to urge the number of battles in which they were engaged; whilst others more directly associated with the misfortunes of the royal family had returned to France without any fortune beyond the goodwill and complaisance of the king. I then asked, with a touch of sarcasm, what they meant to do for your son and for the multitude of brave Royalists who have suffered so much through the misfortunes of the realm, and whose secret prayers for the recall of the royal family to the throne of its ancestors had been unceasing. They replied that they rejoiced to see the end of all our afflictions and the fulfilment of our prayers."Your husband is a very extraordinary man. I can well understand, my dear cousin, all you must be suffering on account of his incredible apathy. To be reduced at the age of sixty-five, or sixty-six at the outside, to a fortune of 40,000 livres income, to bury himself in the depth of a château, and to renounce all chance of an ambitious career, as though a father had no duty towards his children, as though a gentleman ought not to die fighting!"I am sorry your brother-in-law should have laid claim to the Cross of Saint-Louis before it had been granted to him; for it may happen that the king will not readily part with the right to confer this decoration himself, and that he will not approve of the honour certain persons are anxious to have conferred upon them. You will realise that it would be less awkward not to have had the Cross of Saint-Louis than to find oneself obliged to give it up."I did not forget to put forward the claims of your son, the chevalier, and I do not despair of getting him entered for the examination of officers for the Royal Marines. We will then do our utmost to get him passed into the staff of one hundred officers, who are far too conscious of their worth, of the names they bear and of the devotion they profess to have shown at Quiberon."Your grandson Auguste is entered for a page; I cannot tell you exactly when he will be taken into the palace, my dear cousin, as your request followed upon three thousand seven hundred and seventy-five other requests, made on behalf of the sons of noblemen or officers slain on the field of battle, though they cannot show the slightest claim on account of services rendered to the State or to the princes."You are well advised in wishing to place your daughter at Court, and it will not be difficult when you have found a husband for her whose rank and fortune will entitle her to a position there. If this is not arranged, I do not quite see what she would do there, or what suitable post she could occupy there, however able she may be: maids of honour are not yet reinstated."I have presented a petition in favour of F, to which I annexed the pretty song he composed for you; but they have become so exacting that such claims no longer suffice to obtain a post as prefect. I will even go so far as to tell you that they do not think much of your protégé's conversion and of the sacrifices he is prepared to make; his enemies persist in saying that he is not a man who can be relied upon."I witnessed his powers of work in former times, and I am convinced that if he would serve the good cause nowadays with half the zeal he formerly exerted on behalf of the bad cause, they would be able very usefully to employ him. But will this ever be put to the test?"I have not learnt whether intendances are to be re-established, but they seem to think that public receiverships will bediminished, if only in the number of those which exist in departments beyond our bounds. This makes me fear that M. de B—— will have to be satisfied with the enormous fortune his father made in the old revenue days, which he found means to hide during the Revolutionary storms: he must learn to be philosophical."Do not be in the least uneasy over the lot of M——. I know him: he has considerable elasticity of character and of principle—for twenty years he has slipped in and out among all parties, without having offended any. He is a marvellously clever fellow, who will serve himself better than anyone else ever will be served: he is no longer superintendent of the posting bureau, having just obtained a more lucrative post in another department of the Government. Do you always take such great interest in his affairs?"I return you your father-in-law's papers, dear cousin, relative to the debt on the Languedoc estates. From what I can gather, the liquidation does not seem likely to take place yet a while, in spite of the justice of your claim. They have decided that arrears of pay due to troops, the public debt, military pensions and a crowd of other objects of this nature shall be taken into consideration—this measure is evidently the fruit of some intrigue. You should tell F—— to draw up a pamphlet upon the most urgent needs of the State and to endeavour to refer to this debt in the first line of his pamphlet. You have no idea how much the Government is influenced by the multitude of little pamphlets which are produced every day by ill-feeling, anger and hunger with such commendable zeal."You will see, my dear cousin, that, at the rate things are going, you must possess your soul in patience. I would even add that the journey you propose to take to Paris will not advance your affairs. According to the police reckoning, there are at this present moment a hundred and twenty-three thousand people from the provinces, of all ranks, of all sexes, of all ages, who are here to make claims, furnished with almost as good credentials as yours, and who will have the advantage over you in obtaining a refusal of being first in the field to put forward their cases. Finally, as I know you are acquainted with philosophy and the best things in literature, I beg you to read over again a chapter in the EnglishSpectator, on the just claims of these who ask for posts: it is in the thirty-second section of the seventh volume in the duodecimo edition: history repeats itself."Accept, my dear cousin, an expression of my most affectionate greetings, coupled with my sincere regrets."B. DE L——"
"PARIS, 15June1814
"MY DEAR COUSIN,—You can hardly conceive with what interest I have read the letter you have done me the honour to send me, or with what zeal I have tried to further the just and reasonable demands of all the persons you recommend to my notice. You will, not be more astonished than I have been myself at the obstacles placed in my way, which you would deem insurmountable if you knew as well as I the people with whom we have to deal.
"When I spoke of your son, who has long been desirous of service, and asked for a berth as major in his father's old regiment, they urged, as a not unreasonable objection, that peace was concluded, and that before thinking of a position for the Marquis de V——, they must consider the lot of 25,000 officers, some of whom (would you believe it?) press for the recognition of their campaigns, their wounds, and even go so far as to urge the number of battles in which they were engaged; whilst others more directly associated with the misfortunes of the royal family had returned to France without any fortune beyond the goodwill and complaisance of the king. I then asked, with a touch of sarcasm, what they meant to do for your son and for the multitude of brave Royalists who have suffered so much through the misfortunes of the realm, and whose secret prayers for the recall of the royal family to the throne of its ancestors had been unceasing. They replied that they rejoiced to see the end of all our afflictions and the fulfilment of our prayers.
"Your husband is a very extraordinary man. I can well understand, my dear cousin, all you must be suffering on account of his incredible apathy. To be reduced at the age of sixty-five, or sixty-six at the outside, to a fortune of 40,000 livres income, to bury himself in the depth of a château, and to renounce all chance of an ambitious career, as though a father had no duty towards his children, as though a gentleman ought not to die fighting!
"I am sorry your brother-in-law should have laid claim to the Cross of Saint-Louis before it had been granted to him; for it may happen that the king will not readily part with the right to confer this decoration himself, and that he will not approve of the honour certain persons are anxious to have conferred upon them. You will realise that it would be less awkward not to have had the Cross of Saint-Louis than to find oneself obliged to give it up.
"I did not forget to put forward the claims of your son, the chevalier, and I do not despair of getting him entered for the examination of officers for the Royal Marines. We will then do our utmost to get him passed into the staff of one hundred officers, who are far too conscious of their worth, of the names they bear and of the devotion they profess to have shown at Quiberon.
"Your grandson Auguste is entered for a page; I cannot tell you exactly when he will be taken into the palace, my dear cousin, as your request followed upon three thousand seven hundred and seventy-five other requests, made on behalf of the sons of noblemen or officers slain on the field of battle, though they cannot show the slightest claim on account of services rendered to the State or to the princes.
"You are well advised in wishing to place your daughter at Court, and it will not be difficult when you have found a husband for her whose rank and fortune will entitle her to a position there. If this is not arranged, I do not quite see what she would do there, or what suitable post she could occupy there, however able she may be: maids of honour are not yet reinstated.
"I have presented a petition in favour of F, to which I annexed the pretty song he composed for you; but they have become so exacting that such claims no longer suffice to obtain a post as prefect. I will even go so far as to tell you that they do not think much of your protégé's conversion and of the sacrifices he is prepared to make; his enemies persist in saying that he is not a man who can be relied upon.
"I witnessed his powers of work in former times, and I am convinced that if he would serve the good cause nowadays with half the zeal he formerly exerted on behalf of the bad cause, they would be able very usefully to employ him. But will this ever be put to the test?
"I have not learnt whether intendances are to be re-established, but they seem to think that public receiverships will bediminished, if only in the number of those which exist in departments beyond our bounds. This makes me fear that M. de B—— will have to be satisfied with the enormous fortune his father made in the old revenue days, which he found means to hide during the Revolutionary storms: he must learn to be philosophical.
"Do not be in the least uneasy over the lot of M——. I know him: he has considerable elasticity of character and of principle—for twenty years he has slipped in and out among all parties, without having offended any. He is a marvellously clever fellow, who will serve himself better than anyone else ever will be served: he is no longer superintendent of the posting bureau, having just obtained a more lucrative post in another department of the Government. Do you always take such great interest in his affairs?
"I return you your father-in-law's papers, dear cousin, relative to the debt on the Languedoc estates. From what I can gather, the liquidation does not seem likely to take place yet a while, in spite of the justice of your claim. They have decided that arrears of pay due to troops, the public debt, military pensions and a crowd of other objects of this nature shall be taken into consideration—this measure is evidently the fruit of some intrigue. You should tell F—— to draw up a pamphlet upon the most urgent needs of the State and to endeavour to refer to this debt in the first line of his pamphlet. You have no idea how much the Government is influenced by the multitude of little pamphlets which are produced every day by ill-feeling, anger and hunger with such commendable zeal.
"You will see, my dear cousin, that, at the rate things are going, you must possess your soul in patience. I would even add that the journey you propose to take to Paris will not advance your affairs. According to the police reckoning, there are at this present moment a hundred and twenty-three thousand people from the provinces, of all ranks, of all sexes, of all ages, who are here to make claims, furnished with almost as good credentials as yours, and who will have the advantage over you in obtaining a refusal of being first in the field to put forward their cases. Finally, as I know you are acquainted with philosophy and the best things in literature, I beg you to read over again a chapter in the EnglishSpectator, on the just claims of these who ask for posts: it is in the thirty-second section of the seventh volume in the duodecimo edition: history repeats itself.
"Accept, my dear cousin, an expression of my most affectionate greetings, coupled with my sincere regrets.
"B. DE L——"
In 1830, after the Revolution of July, Auguste Barbier produced a poem on the same subject, entitled theCurée.When one re-reads those terrible verses and compares them with work by M. de Jouy, the writings of the latter seem a model of that Attic wit which was characteristic of the old school, and Barbier an example of the brutal, fiery, unpremeditated writing I so typical of his Muse.
Meanwhile, at about the period we have reached, whilst Louis XVIII. was hunting down men of letters with that ruthlessness of which we have just cited a few examples, he was laying claim to a place in their midst. Through the foolish advice of his sycophants, the regal author published a little work entitledVoyage de Paris à Bruxelles.I do not know whether it would be possible to-day to procure a single copy of the royal brochure, wherein were to be found not only such errors in French grammar as "J'étais déjà un peu gros, à cette époque, pourmonter et descendre de cabriolet," but, worse still, revelations of ingratitude and heartlessness.
A poor widow risks her head to take in fugitives, and sacrifices her last louis to give them a dinner; Monsieur relates this act of devotion as though it were no more than the fugitives' due, and ends the chapter by saying, "The dinner was execrable!"
It was written in kitchen French, as Colonel Morisel observed to M. Arnault.
"That is easily explained," replied the author ofGermanicus, "since the work was by arestaurateur".
TheMiroir, ordered to review theVoyage de Paris à Bruxelles, contented itself by saying, "If the work is by the august personage to whom it is attributed, it is above the region of criticism; if it is not by him, it is beneath criticism."
Let us revert to Colonel Morisel, one of the most interesting characters of the time. They could not get up the same kind oftrial against the author of theMesséniennes, of theVêpres siciliennes, of theComédiensand ofParia, as they did against M. de Jouy and Magallon; they could not imprison him in Sainte-Pélagie or send him to Poissy, bound hand to hand and side by side with a filthy convict; but they could reduce him to poverty, and that is what they did.
On 15 April we read in the Liberal papers: "We hear that M. Ancelot, author ofLouis IX.and ofMaire du Palais, has just received letters patent of nobility, and that M. Casimir Delavigne, author ofVêpres siciliennes, ofPariaand of theMesséniennes, has just lost his post in the Library of the Minister of Justice." It was quite true: M. Ancelot had been made a baron, and M. Casimir Delavigne was turned out into the street! It was at this juncture that, on the recommendation of Vatout, who had just published theHistoire de la Fille d'un Roi, the Duc d'Orléans appointed Casimir Delavigne to the post of assistant librarian at the Palais-Royal, where, six years later, I became his colleague.
Vatout was an excellent fellow, a trifle conceited; but even his vanity was useful as a spur which, put in motion by the example of others, goaded him to do the work he would otherwise not have attempted. One of his conceits was to pretend he was a natural son of a prince of the House of Orléans—a very innocent conceit, as it did not harm anyone, and nobody considered it a crime; for he used the influence he acquired by his post at the Palais-Royal in rendering help to his friends, and sometimes even to his enemies.... Just at this moment the information I have been seeking concerning the last act of the Censorship has been brought me.
Ah! my dear Victor Hugo, you who are busy trying to wrest from the jury, before whom you are defending your son, the entire abolition of the death penalty; make an exception in favour of the censor, and stipulate that he shall be executed twice over at the next Revolution, since once is not nearly enough.
I wish here to swear on my honour that what I am about to state is actual truth.
The house in the rue Chaillot—Four poets and a doctor—Corneille and the Censorship—Things M. Faucher does not know—Things the President of the Republic ought to know
The house in the rue Chaillot—Four poets and a doctor—Corneille and the Censorship—Things M. Faucher does not know—Things the President of the Republic ought to know
In the year III of the Second French Republic, on the evening of 2 June, M. Louis Bonaparte being president, M. Léon Faucher minister, M. Guizard director of the Fine Arts, the following incident occurred, in a salon decorated with Persian draperies, on the ground floor of a house in the rue de Chaillot.
Five or six persons were discussing art—a surprising fact at a time when the sole topics of conversation were dissolution, revision and prorogation. True, of these five persons four were poets, and one a doctor who was almost a poet and entirely a man of culture. These four poets were: first, Madame Émile de Girardin, mistress of the house in the rue de Chaillot where the gathering took place; second, Victor Hugo; third, Théophile Gautier; fourth, Arsène Houssaye. The doctor's name was Cabarus.
The gentleman indicated under number four held several offices: perhaps he was rather less of a poet than were the other three, but he was far more of a business man, thus equalizing the balance; he was manager of the Théâtre-Français, the resignation of which post he had already sent in three times, and each time it had been refused.
You may perhaps ask why M. Arsène Houssaye was so ready to send in his resignation.
There is a very simple answer: the members of the Théâtre-Français company made his life so unendurable that the poetwas ever ready to send to the right about his demi-gods, his heroes, his kings, his princes, his dukes, his marquises, his counts and his barons of the rue de Richelieu, in order to re-engage his barons, his counts, his marquises, his dukes, his princes, his kings, his heroes and his demi-gods of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, whom he knew and whose strings he could pull as though he were the Comte de Saint-Germain, who was their familiar friend.
Now why should the members of the Théâtre-Français company make their manager's life so hard? Because he made money, and nothing irritates a member of the Théâtre-Français company so much as to see his theatremake money.This may seem inexplicable to sensible folk: it is indeed a mystery; but I have not set myself to explain the fact; I state it, that is all.
Now, in his capacity as manager of the Théâtre-Français, M. Arsène Houssaye thought of something which had not occurred to anyone else. This was that as the day in question was 2 June 1851, in four days' time—that is to say, on 6 June—it would be the two hundred and forty-fourth anniversary of the birth of Corneille.
He translated his thought into words, and turning to Théophile Gautier, he said, "Come now! my dear Théo, you must write for me some sixty lines, for the occasion, upon the Father of Tragedy: it will be much better than what is usually given us on such anniversaries, and the public will not grumble."
Théophile Gautier pretended not to hear.
Arsène Houssaye repeated his request.
"Good gracious! no," said Gautier.
"Why not?"
"Because I do not know anything more tiresome to write than an official panegyric, were it on the greatest poet in the world. Besides, the greater the poet, the more difficult is it to praise him."
"You are mistaken, Théophile," said Hugo; "and if I were in a position at this moment to do what Arsène asks, I would undertake it."
"Would you think of passing in review Corneille's twenty or thirty plays? Would you have the courage to speak ofMélite, ofClitandre, of theGalerie du Palais, ofPertharite, ofŒdipe, ofAttila, ofAgésilas?"
"No, I should not mention any one of them."
"Then you would not be extolling Corneille: when a poet is praised, you must praise his bad work loudest of all; when one does not praise, it savours of criticism."
"No," said Hugo, "I do not mean anything like that: I would not undertake a vulgar eulogy. I would describe the agèd Corneille, wandering through the streets of old Paris, on foot, with a shabby cloak on his shoulders, neglected by Louis XIV., who was less generous towards him than his persecutor Richelieu; getting his leaky shoes mended at a poor cobbler's, whilst Louis XIV., reigning at Versailles, was promenading with Madame de Montespan, Mademoiselle de la Vallière and Madame Henriette, in the galleries of Le Brun or in the gardens of Le Nôtre; then I would pay compensation to the poet's shade by showing how posterity puts each one in his proper place and, as days are added unto days, months to months and years to years, increases the poet's fame and decreases the power of the king...."
"What are you looking for, Théophile?" asked Madame de Girardin of Gautier, who had got up hastily.
"I am looking for my hat," said Gautier.
"Girardin is asleep on it," replied Cabarus drily.
"Oh, don't wake him," said Madame de Girardin. "It will make an article!"
"Nevertheless, I cannot go without my hat," said Gautier.
"Where are you off to?" asked Arsène Houssaye.
"I am going to write you your lines, of course; you shall have them to-morrow."
They pulled Théophile's hat from under Girardin's shoulders. It had suffered by reason of its position; but what cared Théophile for the condition of his hat?
He returned home and set to work. The next day, as he had promised, Arsène Houssaye had the verses.
But both poet and manager had reckoned without the Censorship.
These are Théophile Gautier's lines on the great Corneille,—they were forbidden by the dramatic censor, as I have said, in the year III of the Second Republic, M. Louis Bonaparte being president, M. Léon Faucher minister and M. Guizard director of the Fine Arts:—
"Par une rue étroite, au cœur du vieux Paris,Au milieu des passants, du tumulte et des cris,La tête dans le ciel et le pied dans la fange,Cheminait à pas lents une figure étrange.C'était un grand vieillard sévèrement drapé,Noble et sainte misère, en son manteau râpé!Son œil d'aigle, son front, argenté vers les tempesRappelaient les fiertés des plus mâles estampes;Et l'on eut dit, à voir ce masque souverain,Une médaille antique à frapper en airain.Chaque pli de sa joue, austèrement creusée,Semblait continuer un sillon de pensée,Et, dans son regard noir, qu'éteint un sombre ennui,On sentait que l'éclair autrefois avait lui.Le vieillard s'arrêta dans une pauvre échoppe.Le roi-soleil, alors, illuminait l'Europe,Et les peuples baissaient leurs regards éblouisDevant cet Apollon qui s'appelait Louis.A le chanter, Boileau passait ses doctes veilles;Pour le loger, Mansard entassait ses merveilles;Cependant, en un bouge, auprès d'un savetier,Pied nu, le grand Corneille attendait son soulier!Sur la poussière d'or de sa terre bénie,Homère, sans chaussure, aux chemins d'Ionie,Pouvait marcher jadis avec l'antiquité,Beau comme un marbre grec par Phidias sculpté;Mais Homère, à Paris, sans crainte du scandale,Un jour de pluie, eut fait recoudre sa sandale.Ainsi faisait l'auteur d'Horaceet deCinna,Celui que de ses mains la muse couronna,Le fier dessinateur, Michel-Ange du drame,Qui peignit les Romains si grands, d'après son âme.O pauvreté sublime! ô sacré dénûment!Par ce cœur héroique accepté simplement!Louis, ce vil détail que le bon goût dédaigne,Ce soulier recousu me gâte tout ton règne.A ton siècle en perruque et de luxe amoureux,Je ne pardonne pas Corneille malheureux.Ton dais fleurdelisé cache mal cette échoppe;De la pourpre où ton faste à grands plis s'enveloppe,Je voudrais prendre un pan pour Corneille vieilli,S'éteignant, pauvre et seul, dans l'ombre et dans l'oubli.Sur le rayonnement de toute ton histoire,Sur l'or de ton soleil c'est une tache noire,O roi! d'avoir laissé, toi qu'ils ont peint si beau,Corneille sans souliers, Molière sans tombeau!Mais pourquoi s'indigner! Que viennent les années,L'équilibre se fait entre les destinées;A sa place chacun est remis par la mort:Le roi rentre dans l'ombre, et le poëte en sort!Pour courtisans, Versaille a gardé ses statues;Les adulations et les eaux se sont tues;Versaille est la Palmyre où dort la royauté.Qui des deux survivra, génie ou majesté?L'aube monte pour l'un, le soir descend sur l'autre;Le spectre de Louis, au jardin de Le Notre,Erre seul, et Corneille, éternel comme un Dieu,Toujours sur son autel voit reluire le feu,Que font briller plus vif en ses fêtes natalesLes générations, immortelles vestales.Quand en poudre est tombé le diadème d'or,Son vivace laurier pousse et verdit encor;Dans la postérité, perspective inconnue,Le poëte grandit et le roi diminue!"
Now let us have a few words on this matter, Monsieur Guizard, for you did not reckon things would end here; you did not hope to escape at the cost of a few words written with a double meaning, inserted in a newspaper printed yesterday, published to-day and forgotten on the morrow.
No, when such outrages are perpetrated upon art, it is meet that the culprit should be deprived of his natural judges and taken to a higher court, as your models carried Trélat and Cavaignac to the House of Peers, as your friends carried Raspail, Hubert and Sobrier to the Court of Bourges. And I call upon you to appear, Monsieur Guizard, you who took the place ofmy friend Cavé, as superintendent of the department of Fine Arts.
Look you, now that things are being cut down all round, has not a letter been economised in the description of your office? and instead of being responsible for thedepartment, are you not really responsible for thedepartureof the Fine Arts? Moreover, I have something to relate that passed between us, three months ago. Do you remember I had the honour of paying you a visit, three months ago? I came to give you notice, on behalf of the manager of the Cirque, that while we were waiting for theBarrière de Clichywe were going to put theChevalier de Maison-Rougein rehearsal.
"TheChevalier de Maison-Rouge!" you exclaimed.
"Yes."
"But is not theChevalier de Maison-Rougea drama written by yourself?"
"Yes."
"Is it not in theChevalier de Maison-Rougethat the famous chorus occurs—
'Mourir pour la patrie'?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, we will not allow theChevalier de Maison-Rougeto be played."
"You will not allow theChevalier de Maison-Rougeto be played?"
"No, no, no, no, no!"
"But why not?"
Then you looked me in the face and you said to me—
"Do you mean to tell me you do not know that theChevalier de Maison-Rougecontributed to the establishment of the Republic?"
You said that to me, Monsieur Guizard! You made that extraordinary avowal to me, in the year III of the Republic! M. Léon Faucher being minister of the Republic! you, Monsieur Guizard, being director of the Fine Arts of the Republic!
I was so astounded at the reply that I could find nothing else to say than "How the devil does it come about that I, who lost nearly 200,000 francs by the coming of the Republic, am a Republican, whilst you, who gained thereby a post bringing you in 12,000, are a Reactionary?"
True, you did not condescend to explain this anomaly: I left your office without discovering a reason, and now, as I write these lines, I am still at a loss for one!
Now, in the hope that someone more clever than I at guessing riddles might be found, I decided to print what happened to me, three months ago, side by side with what happened to Gautier to-day!
What can one expect? Every man makes use of the tool or of the instrument he has in his hand: some have scissors, and they cut; others have an engraver's tool, and they etch.
What I write, I warn you, M. Guizard, is translated into eight or nine different languages. So we shall have the assistance of learned men in many lands to help us in our researches, and the archæologists of three generations; for, suppose my works live no longer than the time it will take for rats to devour them, it will take those creatures quite a hundred years to eat my thousand volumes. You may tell me that the order to stop M. Théophile Gautier's verses came from a higher source, from the minister. To that I have nothing to say: if the order came from the minister, you were obliged to obey that order. And I must in that case wend my way to M. Léon Faucher. So be it!
O Faucher! is it really credible that you, who are so halfhearted a Republican, you who were so ill-advised, according to my opinion, as to pay a subsidy to the Théâtre-Français to have the dead exhumed and, the living buried,—is it really credible, I repeat, that so indifferent a Republican as yourself, did not wish it said, on the stage that Corneille created, that genius is higher than royalty, and that Corneille was greater as a poet than Louis XIV. was as a monarch?
But, M. Faucher, you know quite as well as I that Louis XIV. was only a great king because he possessed great ministers and great poets.
Perhaps you will tell me that great ministers and poets are created by great kings?
No, M. Faucher, you will not say that; for I shall retort, "Napoleon, who was a great emperor, had no Corneille, and Louis XIII., who was a pitiable king, could boast a Richelieu."
No, M. le ministre, Louis XIV., believe me, was only great as a king because (and Michelet, one of the greatest historians who ever lived, will tell you exactly the same) Richelieu was his precursor, whilst Corneille's precursor was ... who? Jodelle.
Corneille did not need either Condé, or Turenne, or Villars, or de Catinat, or Vauban, or Mazarin, or Colbert, or Louvois, or Boileau, or Racine, or Benserade, or Le Brun, or Le Nôtre, or even M. de Saint-Aignan to help him to become a great poet.
No; Corneille took up a pen, ink and paper; he only had to lean his head upon his hand and his poetry came.
Had you but read Théophile Gautier's lines, M. le ministre,—but I am sure you have not read them,—you must have seen that these verses are not merely the finest Théophile Gautier ever penned, but the finest ever written since verses came to be written. You must have seen that their composition was excellent and their ideas above reproach. A certain emperor I knew—one whom apparently you did not know—would have sent the officer's Cross of the Legion of Honour and a pension to a man who had written those verses.
You, M. le ministre, sent orders that Théophile Gautier's lines were not to be read on the stage of the Théâtre-Français!
But perhaps this order came from higher authority still? Perhaps it came from the President of the Republic?
If it came from the President of the Republic, it is another matter ... and it is with the President of the Republic that I must settle my grievance.
I shall not take long in dealing with the President of the Republic.
"Ah! M. le président de la République," I shall say to him, "you who have forgotten so many things in the overwhelming rush of state affairs, have you, by any chance, forgotten what Monsieur your uncle said of the author of theCid, 'IfCorneille had lived in my time, I would have made him a prince.'"
Now that I have said to the President of the Republic, to M. le Ministre de l'Intérieur, and to M. le Chef de Division Chargé du Département des Beaux-Arts, what I had it in my mind to say, let us return to the year 1823, which also possessed its Censorship, but one that was much less severe than that of 1851.
Chronology of the drama—Mademoiselle Georges Weymer—Mademoiselle Raucourt—Legouvé and his works—Marie-Joseph Chénier—His letter to the company of the Comédie-Française—Young boysperfectionnés—Ducis—His work
Chronology of the drama—Mademoiselle Georges Weymer—Mademoiselle Raucourt—Legouvé and his works—Marie-Joseph Chénier—His letter to the company of the Comédie-Française—Young boysperfectionnés—Ducis—His work
Now the Royalist reaction of which we were speaking—before we interrupted ourselves to address the high public functionaries who had the honour of appearing before our readers in the last chapter—did not only strike at literary men, but it hit out cruelly, bitterly and mortally at public men. It began by the expulsion of Manuel from the Chamber; it closed with the execution of Riégo. But I must confess I was not so much occupied at that time with the quarrels of the Chamber, or the Spanish War, or the fête that Madame de Cayla (who was very kind to me later) gave to Saint-Ouen to celebrate the return of Louis XVIII., or the death of Pope Pius VII.; there were two events which were quite as important to my thinking: the first production of Lucien Arnault'sPierre de Portugal, and that of theÉcole des Vieillards, by Casimir Delavigne. Although the dramatic statistics for the year 1823 showed a total production of 209 new plays and of 161 authors acted, the best theatres, especially during the first nine months of the year, presented but a sorry show, and were very far removed from reaching the level of the preceding year.
Thus, on 26 April, 1822, the Odéon had producedAttilaby M. Hippolyte Bis. On 5 June the Théâtre-Français played Lucien Arnault'sRégulus.On 14 June the Odéon played theMacchabéesby M. Guiraud: Frédérick Lemaître, who belonged to the Cirque, played one of the brothers Macchabées. On 7 November the Théâtre-Français produced M. Soumet'sClytemnestre, in which Talma gave a realistic representation of the tragic and unhappy fate of Orestes. On 9 November the Odéon put on its boards the same author'sSaül,in which Joanny first began to make his reputation. Finally, on 21 December, the Théâtre-Français producedValérie, by MM. Scribe and Mélesville. As against all these new plays, the year 1823 only offered us the comedy of l'Éducation ou les Deux Cousinesby M. Casimir Bonjour, andComte Julienby M. Guiraud.
L'Éducation ou les Deux Cousinesis M. Casimir Bonjour's best comedy; but M. Casimir Bonjour's best comedy had the option of being a feeble production, and it exercised that option.
WhileComte Julienwas honest, careful work, as were all the author's plays, its principal attraction was that the company acting it contained Mademoiselle Georges, who made her reappearance in Paris after an absence of four or five years. Mademoiselle Georges was extremely beautiful at that period, and still hadall her diamonds.Those who knew Harel and the fantastic posters he invented know the part which Mademoiselle Georges' diamonds played in the rôles Mademoiselle Georges acted.
I have told my readers that as celebrated characters appear in these Memoirs I will describe them all as clearly as I can, in the light of contemporary knowledge; some of them only shone for a very short time and their light is now extinguished for ever. But what I have to say about them will be all the more interesting on that account, for what follows describes my first impressions of them, when they were in the zenith of their popularity.
We have remarked that the age of any living actress is not to be known; but reckoning from the year when Mademoiselle Georges made her début—that is to say, from 29 November 1802—she must have been thirty-eight in 1823. Just a word to explain how Mademoiselle Georges gained access to the theatreand how she managed to remain on the boards. Loved by Bonaparte, and retained in his favour when he became Napoleon, Mademoiselle Georges, who begged to be allowed to accompany Napoleon to Saint-Helena, is almost a historical personage.
Towards the close of the year 1800 and the beginning of 1801 Mademoiselle Raucourt, who was leading lady in tragedy at the Théâtre-Français, went on tour in the provinces. This was at a time when although Government had plenty to do, it was not ashamed to concern itself with the arts in its spare moments. Mademoiselle Raucourt had therefore received orders from the Government to look out for any pupil during her tour whom she might think worth instruction, and to bring her back to Paris. This young lady was to be considered the pupil of the Government, and would receive a grant of 1200 francs.
Mademoiselle Raucourt stopped at Amiens. There she discovered a beautiful young girl of fifteen years of age who looked to be eighteen; you might have thought that the Venus of Milo had descended from her pedestal. Mademoiselle Raucourt, who was almost as classic in her tastes as the Lesbian Sappho, admired statuesque beauty immensely. When she saw the way this young girl walked—her gait that of the goddess, to use Virgil's phrase—the actress made inquiries and found that her name was Georges Weymer; that she was the daughter of a German musician named Georges Weymer, manager of the theatre, and of Mademoiselle Verteuil the actress who played the chambermaid parts.
This young lady was destined for tragedy. Mademoiselle Raucourt made her play Élise, with her, inDidon, and Aricie inPhèdre.The experiment succeeded, and the very night of the performance ofPhèdre,Mademoiselle Raucourt asked the young tragédienne's parents' leave to take her.
The prospect of being a Government pupil, and, better still, the pupil of Mademoiselle Raucourt, was, with the exception of some slight drawbacks in the way of regulations to which the young girl had perforce to agree, too tempting an offer in the eyes of her parents to be refused. The request was granted, and Mademoiselle Georges departed, followed by her mother.The lessons lasted eighteen months. During these eighteen months the young pupil lived in a poor hotel in the rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs, which, probably ironically, was named thehôtel du Pérou.
Mademoiselle Raucourt lived at the end of the allée des Veuves, in a magnificent house which had belonged to Madame Tallien and which, no doubt also ironically, was calledThe Cottage (la Chaumière).We have called Mademoiselle Georges' residence "a magnificent house": we should also have said "a small house," for it was a perfect specimen of a bijou villa in the style of Louis XV.
Towards the end of the eighteenth century—that strange epoch when people called things by their right names—Sapho-Raucourt enjoyed a reputation the originality of which she took not the least pains to hide.
Mademoiselle Raucourt's attitude towards men was more than indifference, it was hatred. The writer of these lines has in his possession a memorandum signed by this famous actress which is a regular war-cry against the masculine sex, and in which the modern Queen of the Amazons calls upon every lovely warrior enrolled under her orders to open rupture with men.
Nothing could be more odd than the form and, above all, the subject-matter of this manifesto. And yet, strange to relate, in spite of this contempt towards us, Mademoiselle Raucourt, whenever the costume of her sex was not indispensable to her, adopted that of our sex. Thus, very often, in the morning, Mademoiselle Raucourt gave lessons to her beautiful pupil in trousers, with a dressing-gown over them,—just as M. Molé or M. Fleury would have done,—a pretty woman by her side who addressed her as "dear fellow," and a charming child who called her "papa."
We did not know Mademoiselle Raucourt,—she died in 1814, and her funeral created a great sensation,—but we knew her mother, who died in 1832 or 1833; and we still know thechildywho is to-day a man of fifty-five.
We were acquainted with an actor whose whole careerwas blighted by Mademoiselle Raucourt on account of some jealousy he had the misfortune to arouse in the terrible Lesbian. Mademoiselle Raucourt appealed to the Committee of the Théâtre-Français, reminded them of her rights of possession and of priority in respect of the girl whom the impertinent comedian wished to seduce from her, and, the priority and the possession being recognised, the impudent comedian, who is still living and is one of the most straightforward men imaginable, was hounded out of the theatre, the members of the company believing that, as in the case of Achilles, Mademoiselle Raucourt, because of this modern Briseis, would retire in sulks.
Let us return to the young girl, whose mother never left her a single instant during the visits she paid to her teacher: three times a week had she to traverse the long distance between the rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs and the allée des Veuves in order to take her lessons. Her first appearances were fixed to take place at the end of November. They were to be inClytemnestre, inÉmilie,inAménaïde, inIdamé, inDidonand inSémiramis.
A début at the Théâtre-Français in 1802 was a great affair both for the artiste and for the public; it was a still greater matter to be received into the company; for if one joined the troupe, it meant, in the case of a man, becoming a colleague of Monvel, of Saint-Prix, of Baptiste senior, of Talma, of Lafond, of Saint-Phal, of Molé, of Fleury, of Armand, of Michot, of Grandménil, of Dugazon, of Dazincourt, of Baptiste junior, of la Rochelle; in the case of a woman, one became the companion of Mademoiselle Raucourt, of Mlle. Contat, of Mlle. Devienne, Mlle. Talma, of Mlle. Fleury, of Mlle. Duchesnois, of Mlle. Mézeray, of Mlle. Mars.
The authors of this period were: Legouvé, Lemercier, Arnault, Alexandre Duval, Picard, Chénier and Ducis. Of these seven men I knew four: Arnault, whose portrait I have attempted to draw; Lemercier and Alexandre Duval, whose splenetic likenesses I shall try to describe in due season; then came Picard, who was called the friend of youth, but whodetested young people. Legouvé, Chénier and Ducis were dead when I came to Paris.
Legouvé was very influential at the Théâtre-Français. He it was who, when Mademoiselle Georges made her first appearance, was directing the débuts of Mademoiselle Duchesnois with an almost fatherly affection; he had produced theMort d'Abelin 1793, a patriarchal tragedy which owed its success, first to the talent of the author, secondly and more especially, to its opposition to current events. It was played between the execution of Louis XVI. and that of Marie-Antoinette, between the September Massacres and the execution of the Girondists; it distracted people's minds for the moment from the sight of the blood which flowed down the gutters. When they had witnessed all day long bodies hanging from the lamp-posts and heads carried on the ends of pikes, they were not sorry to spend their evening with shepherds and shepherdesses. Nero crowned himself with roses and sang Ionic verses after watching Rome burn.
In 1794 Legouvé had producedÉpicharis.The last act contained a very fine monologue, which he certainly had not created himself, but which he had borrowed from a page of Mercier. This final act made the success of the play. I heard Talma declaim the monologue in his pompous style.
Finally, in 1799, Legouvé had producedÉtéocle. Étéoclewas a failure, or nearly so; and, seeing this, instead of providing a fresh tragedy for the Théâtre-Français, Legouvé introduced a new tragic actress. Mademoiselle Duchesnois had just completed her exceedingly successful début when Mademoiselle Georges made her first appearance.
As I have promised to speak in due course of Lemercier, Alexandre Duval and Picard, I will now finish what I have to say about Chénier and Ducis, of whom I shall probably not have occasion to speak again.
Marie-Joseph Chénier possessed singular conceit. I have a dozen of his letters before me, written aboutCharles IX.; I will pick out one which is a model of naïvete: it will show from what standpoint men whom certain critics have theaudacity to call masters, and who probably are masters in their eyes, look upon historic tragedy.
The letter was addressed to French comedians: it was intended to make them again take upCharles IX.,which those gentlemen refused absolutely to play. Why did not French comedians want to playCharles IX.,sinceCharles IX.made money? Ah! I must whisper the reason in your ear, or rather, say it out loud: it was because Talma's part in it was such an enormous success. Here is the letter:—
"Pressed on all sides, gentlemen, by the friends of liberty, several of whom are of the number of confederated deputies, to give at once a few representations ofCharles IX.,I ask you to announce the thirty-fourth appearance of this tragedy on your play-bills, for one day next week, independently of another work that I have composed to celebrate the anniversary of the Federation.You may like to know that I intend to addseveral lines applicable to this interesting event,in the part of the Chancellor of the Hospital, for I am always anxious to pay my tribute as a citizen; and you, gentlemen, could not show your patriotism on this occasion in a better way than by playing the onlytruly nationaltragedy which still exists in France, a tragedy philosophical in subject, and worthy of the stage, even in the opinion of M. de Voltaire, who, you will admit, knew what he was talking about. In this tragedy I have made a point ofsounding the praises of the citizen kingwho governs us to-day.—Accept my sincere regards," etc.
"Pressed on all sides, gentlemen, by the friends of liberty, several of whom are of the number of confederated deputies, to give at once a few representations ofCharles IX.,I ask you to announce the thirty-fourth appearance of this tragedy on your play-bills, for one day next week, independently of another work that I have composed to celebrate the anniversary of the Federation.
You may like to know that I intend to addseveral lines applicable to this interesting event,in the part of the Chancellor of the Hospital, for I am always anxious to pay my tribute as a citizen; and you, gentlemen, could not show your patriotism on this occasion in a better way than by playing the onlytruly nationaltragedy which still exists in France, a tragedy philosophical in subject, and worthy of the stage, even in the opinion of M. de Voltaire, who, you will admit, knew what he was talking about. In this tragedy I have made a point ofsounding the praises of the citizen kingwho governs us to-day.—Accept my sincere regards," etc.
Can you imagine the Chancellor of the Hospital lauding the Fete of the Federation, and Charles IX. singing the praises of Louis XVI.?
Ah well!...
Chénier had made his début inCharles IX.,which he wanted to have reproduced, and its reproduction caused Danton and Camille Desmoulins to be taken before the police magistrate, accused of having got up conspiracies in the pit.Henri VIII.followedCharles IX.with similar success. Two years afterHenri VIII., Calaswas produced. Finally, on 9 January1793, at the height of Louis XVI.'s trial, and some days before that poor king's death, Chénier producedFénélon,, a rose-water tragedy, of the same type as theMort d'Abel, which had that kind of success one's friends term a triumph, and one's enemies a failure.
Chénier counted on reviving his success byTimoléon. But Robespierre, who had heard the work talked of, read it and stopped it. Listen, you wielders of the Censorship! Robespierre trod in your footsteps; he stoppedTimoléonas your confrères, before him, had stoppedTartufeto no purpose;Mahomet, to no purpose;Mariage de Figaro, to no purpose; and so we come at last to you, who have stoppedPintoto no purpose,Marion Delormeto no purpose, andAntonyto no purpose.
Robespierre, we repeat, stoppedTimoléon, declaring that, as long as he was alive, the piece should never be played. Yes, but Robespierre proved himself ignorant of the temper of the age in which he and his contemporaries lived; he counted without 9 Thermidor.... Robespierre followed Danton to the scaffold, andTimoléonwas played.
Unfortunately, two days before Robespierre, death claimed the sweet-voiced swan whom men called André Chénier, a poet even as his brother, though of a different make, and no writer of tragedies.
How was it that Marie-Joseph Chénier found time to look after the rehearsals of his tragedy, so soon after Thermidor, and immediately upon the death of his brother?
Ah! André was only his brother, andTimoléonwas his child.
But many-headed Nemesis was watching over the forgotten poet and preparing a terrible vengeance.Timoléonkilled his brother, and Chénier was accused of not having saved his.
Cries were raised for the name of the author.
"No need!" cried a voice from the pit. "The author's name isCain!"
From that day Chénier renounced the theatre, although there were rumours of two plays lying waiting to come forth some day from his portfolio, calledTibèreandPhilippe II.
Ducis succeeded Chénier.
After the death of Beaumarchais—who had written two charming comedies of intrigue and three poor dramas—Ducis became the patriarch of literature.
There was in Rome, under all the popes down to the days of Gregory XVI., who had them removed, a sign over certain surgeon's doors with the inscription—
"Ici onperfectionneles petits garçons."
The reader will understand what that means: parents who desired that their boys should remain beardless, and possess pretty voices, took their children to these establishments, and by a twist of the hand they were ...perfectionnés.
Ducis did to Sophocles and to Shakespeare pretty much what Roman surgeons did to small boys. Those who like smooth chins and sweet voices may prefer theŒdipe-roi, Œdipe à Colone, Hamlet, Macbeth, Roméo and JulietandOthelloof Ducis, to theŒdipusof Sophocles and theHamlet, Macbeth, Romeo and JulietandOthelloof Shakespeare; but we must confess that we like Nature in all her virility, that we think the stronger a man is, the more beautiful he is and that we prefer entire dramas to castrated ones: this being so, whether in the case of small boys or of tragedies, we hold allperfectionnementto be sacrilege. But let us give Ducis his due. He led the way to Sophocles by a poor road, to Shakespeare by a narrow path; but, at all events, he left those guide-posts by the way, which Voltaire had taken such pains to remove. When Voltaire made a veil for Zaire out of Desdemona's handkerchief, he was very careful to obliterate the mark on the linen he stole. This was more than imitation—it was theft.
In the period that elapsed between 1769 and 1795, Ducis producedHamlet, Œdipe chez Admète, King Lear, Macbeth, OthelloandAbufar.This was the condition of the Théâtre-Français, this was the state of French literature, in the year of grace 1802, when Napoleon Bonaparte was First Consul, and Cambacérès and Lebrun were assistant consuls.
Bonaparte's attempts at discovering poets—Luce de Lancival —Baour-Lormian—Lebrun-Pindare—Lucien Bonaparte, the author—Début of Mademoiselle Georges—The Abbé Geoffroy's critique—Prince Zappia—Hermione at Saint-Cloud
Bonaparte's attempts at discovering poets—Luce de Lancival —Baour-Lormian—Lebrun-Pindare—Lucien Bonaparte, the author—Début of Mademoiselle Georges—The Abbé Geoffroy's critique—Prince Zappia—Hermione at Saint-Cloud
Let us here insert a word or two about Bonaparte's little Court. We are writing memoirs now, and not novels; we must therefore replace fiction by truth, plot by digressions and intrigue by desultory pages.
Oh! if only some man had left us information about the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, such as I have attempted to leave about the nineteenth, how I should have blessed him, and what hard work he would have spared me!