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font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .border {border-style: solid;border-width: 1px; padding: 1em; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of My Double Life: The Memoirs of Sarah Bernhardt</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: My Double Life: The Memoirs of Sarah Bernhardt</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Sarah Bernhardt</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 1, 2005 [eBook #9100]<br> +[Most recently updated: February 27, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Sharon Joiner, Suzanne Shell, Sandra Brown, TBC and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY DOUBLE LIFE ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>MEMOIRS OF</div> + <div class='c002'>SARAH BERNHARDT</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='border'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div><span class='large'>PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS</span></div> + <div>OF</div> + <div><span class='xlarge'>HENRY IRVING</span></div> + <div class='c002'><em>New and Cheaper Edition</em></div> + <div><em>Price Six Shillings Net</em></div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'><span class='sc'>By</span> BRAM STOKER</span></div> + <div class='c002'><em>Illustrated</em></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Mr. William Archer in the <cite>Tribune</cite>.—“A +book that counts .... Irving +the manager and the man-of-the-world +lives in these pages.... We +have here, in brief, the ideal Irving +from an inside point of view—the +Irving of the inner circle.”</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c005'> + <div><span class='sc'>London</span>: WILLIAM HEINEMANN</div> + <div>21 Bedford Street, W.C.</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div id='Frontispiece' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i_frontis.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic001'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AS “ADRIENNE LECOUVREUR”<br> <br> <span class='sc'>By Walter Spindler</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c006'><span class='large'><span class='under'><em>MY DOUBLE LIFE</em></span></span><br> <span class='xlarge'>MEMOIRS</span><br> <span class='small'>OF</span><br> SARAH BERNHARDT</h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c007'> + <div>WITH MANY PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id002'> +<img src='images/i_titlepage.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>LONDON</div> + <div>WILLIAM HEINEMANN</div> + <div>1907</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='small'><em>Copyright London 1907 by William Heinemann, and Washington, U.S.A., D. Appleton and Company</em></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span> + <h2 class='c008'>CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <th class='c009'><span class='small'>CHAP.</span></th> + <th class='c010'> </th> + <th class='c011'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>I.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Childhood</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>II.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>At Boarding School</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_6'>6</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>III.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Convent Life</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_16'>16</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>IV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My Début</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_27'>27</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>V.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Soldier’s Shako</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_38'>38</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>VI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Family Council and my First Visit to a Theatre</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>VII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My Career—First Lessons</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_59'>59</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>VIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Conservatoire</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_64'>64</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>IX.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>A Marriage Proposal and Examinations—The Conservatoire</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_73'>73</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>X.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My First Engagement</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_88'>88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My Début at the House of Molière, and my First Departure therefrom</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_98'>98</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>At the Gymnase Theatre—A Trip to Spain</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_107'>107</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>From the Porte St. Martin Theatre to the Odéon</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_118'>118</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XIV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>“Le Passant”—At the Tuileries—Fire in my Flat</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_135'>135</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Franco-Prussian War</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XVI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sarah Bernhardt’s Ambulance at the Odéon Theatre</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_160'>160</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XVII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Paris Bombarded</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_172'>172</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XVIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>A Bold Journey through the German Lines</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_189'>189</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XIX.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My Return to Paris—The Commune—At St. Germain-en-Laye</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_216'>216</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XX.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Victor Hugo</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_226'>226</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>A Memorable Supper</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_231'>231</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>At the Comédie Française again—Sculpture</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_244'>244</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>A Descent into the Enfer du Plogoff—My First Appearance as Phèdre—The Decoration of my New Mansion</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_259'>259</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_vi'>vi</span>XXIV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Alexandre Dumas—“L’Etrangère”—My Sculpture at the Salon</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_272'>272</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>“Hernani”—A Trip in a Balloon</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_280'>280</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXVI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Comédie goes to London</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_291'>291</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXVII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>London Life—My First Performance at the Gaiety Theatre</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_303'>303</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXVIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My Performance in London—My Exhibition—My Wild Animals—Trouble with the Comédie Française</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_309'>309</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXIX.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Comédie Française returns to Paris—Sarah Bernhardt’s Comments on Actors and Actresses of the Day</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_326'>326</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXX.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>My Departure from the Comédie Française—Preparations for my first American Tour—Another Visit to London</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_331'>331</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>A Tour in Denmark—Royal Families—The “Twenty-Eight Days” of Sarah Bernhardt</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_342'>342</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Experiences and Reflections on Board Ship from Hâvre to New York</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_352'>352</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Arrival in New York—American Reporters—The Custom House—Performances in New York—A Visit to Edison at Menlo Park</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_361'>361</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXIV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>At Boston—Story of the Whale</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_380'>380</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXV.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Montreal’s Grand Reception—The Poet Fréchette—An Escapade on the St. Lawrence River</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_388'>388</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXVI.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>Springfield—Baltimore—Philadelphia—Chicago—Adventures between St. Louis and Cincinnati—Capital Punishment</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_398'>398</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXVII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>New Orleans and other American Cities—A Visit to the Falls of Niagara</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_414'>414</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'>XXXVIII.</td> + <td class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Return to France—The Welcome at Hâvre</span></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_433'>433</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c009'> </td> + <td class='c010'>INDEX</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_443'>443</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span> + <h2 class='c008'>LIST OF PLATES</h2> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <th class='c010'></th> + <th class='c011'><span class='small'><em>To face page</em></span></th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt as Adrienne Lecouvreur</td> + <td class='c011'><em><a href='#Frontispiece'>Frontispiece</a></em></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt and her Mother</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i004fp'>4</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>The Grand Champ Convent, from the Garden</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i018fp'>18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Le Conservatoire National de Musique et de Déclamation, Paris</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i066fp'>66</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt in the Hands of her Coiffeur, before going to the Conservatoire Examination</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i082fp'>82</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt on Leaving the Conservatoire</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i090fp'>90</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>An Early Portrait of Sarah Bernhardt; Sarah Bernhardt in <cite><span lang="fr">Les Femmes Savantes</span></cite>; Sarah Bernhardt as the Duc de Richelieu</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i100fpa'>100</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt in <cite><span lang="fr">François le Champi</span></cite></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i128fp'>128</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt in a Fancy Costume</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i136fp'>136</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt. <em>From the Portrait in the Théâtre Français</em></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i176fp'>176</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Skull in Sarah Bernhardt’s Library, with Autograph Verses by Victor Hugo</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i232fp'>232</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt at a Fancy-dress Ball</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i240fp'>240</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt at Work on her <em>Médée</em></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i244fp'>244</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt Painting (1878–9)</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i252fp'>252</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt in her Coffin</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i256fp'>256</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>A Corner of the Library</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i264fp'>264</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Library in Sarah Bernhardt’s House</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i268fp'>268</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt at Home. <em>From the Painting by Walter Spindler</em></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i276fp'>276</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt as Dona Sol in <cite>Hernani</cite></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i282fp'>282</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>A Corner of the Hall, with a Painting by Chartran of Sarah Bernhardt as Gismonda</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i288fp'>288</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt in Riding Costume</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i304fp'>304</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>“Ophelia.” Sculpture by Sarah Bernhardt</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i314fp'>314</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt. <em>From the Portrait by Mlle. Louis Abbema</em></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i318fp'>318</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>Sarah Bernhardt. <em>From the Portrait by Jules Bastien-Lepage</em></td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i324fp'>324</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt (1879)</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i334fp'>334</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt as Andromaque</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i338fp'>338</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt in Travelling Costume (1880)</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i342fp'>342</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Sarah Bernhardt and Members of her Company out Shooting</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i400fp'>400</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Bust of Victorien Sardou, by Sarah Bernhardt</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i440fp'>440</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Facsimile of Sarah Bernhardt’s Handwriting</td> + <td class='c011'><a href='#i_facsimile'>442</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> + <h2 class='c008'>I<br> <span class='large'>CHILDHOOD</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>My mother was fond of travelling: she would go from Spain to +England, from London to Paris, from Paris to Berlin, and +from there to Christiania; then she would come back, embrace +me, and set out again for Holland, her native country. She +used to send my nurse clothing for herself and cakes for me. +To one of my aunts she would write: “Look after little Sarah; +I shall return in a month’s time.” A month later she would +write to another of her sisters: “Go and see the child at her +nurse’s; I shall be back in a couple of weeks.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother’s age was nineteen; I was three years old, and my +two aunts were seventeen and twenty years of age; another aunt +was fifteen, and the eldest was twenty-eight; but the last one +lived at Martinique, and was the mother of six children. My +grandmother was blind, my grandfather dead, and my father +had been in China for the last two years. I have no idea why +he had gone there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My youthful aunts always promised to come to see me, but +rarely kept their word. My nurse hailed from Brittany, and +lived near Quimperlé, in a little white house with a low thatched +roof, on which wild gilly-flowers grew. That was the first flower +which charmed my eyes as a child, and I have loved it ever +since. Its leaves are heavy and sad-looking, and its petals are +made of the setting sun.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Brittany is a long way off, even in our epoch of velocity! In +those days it was the end of the world. Fortunately my nurse +was, it appears, a good, kind woman, and, as her own child had +died, she had only me to love. But she loved after the manner +of poor people, when she had time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day, as her husband was ill, she went into the field to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>help gather in potatoes; the over-damp soil was rotting them, +and there was no time to be lost. She left me in charge of her +husband, who was lying on his Breton bedstead suffering from a +bad attack of lumbago. The good woman had placed me in my +high chair, and had been careful to put in the wooden peg which +supported the narrow table for my toys. She threw a faggot +in the grate, and said to me in Breton language (until the age +of four I only understood Breton), “Be a good girl, Milk +Blossom.” That was my only name at the time. When she +had gone, I tried to withdraw the wooden peg which she had +taken so much trouble to put in place. Finally I succeeded in +pushing aside the little rampart. I wanted to reach the ground, +but—poor little me!—I fell into the fire, which was burning +joyfully.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The screams of my foster-father, who could not move, brought +in some neighbours. I was thrown, all smoking, into a large +pail of fresh milk. My aunts were informed of what had +happened: they communicated the news to my mother, and +for the next four days that quiet part of the country was +ploughed by stage-coaches which arrived in rapid succession. +My aunts came from all parts of the world, and my mother, in +the greatest alarm, hastened from Brussels, with Baron Larrey, +one of her friends, who was a young doctor, just beginning to +acquire celebrity, and a house surgeon whom Baron Larrey had +brought with him. I have been told since that nothing was +so painful to witness and yet so charming as my mother’s +despair. The doctor approved of the “mask of butter,” which +was changed every two hours.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dear Baron Larrey! I often saw him afterwards, and now +and again we shall meet him in the pages of my Memoirs. He +used to tell me in such charming fashion how those kind folks +loved Milk Blossom. And he could never refrain from laughing +at the thought of that butter. There was butter everywhere, +he used to say: on the bedsteads, on the cupboards, on the +chairs, on the tables, hanging up on nails in bladders. All +the neighbours used to bring butter to make masks for +Milk Blossom.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mother, adorably beautiful, looked like a Madonna, with her +golden hair and her eyes fringed with such long lashes that they +made a shadow on her cheeks when she looked down.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>She distributed money on all sides. She would have given her +golden hair, her slender white fingers, her tiny feet, her life itself, +in order to save her child. And she was as sincere in her despair +and her love as in her unconscious forgetfulness. Baron Larrey +returned to Paris, leaving my mother, Aunt Rosine, and the +surgeon with me. Forty-two days later, mother took back in +triumph to Paris the nurse, the foster-father, and me, and +installed us in a little house at Neuilly, on the banks of the +Seine. I had not even a scar, it appears. My skin was rather +too bright a pink, but that was all. My mother, happy and +trustful once more, began to travel again, leaving me in care +of my aunts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two years were spent in the little garden at Neuilly, which +was full of horrible dahlias growing close together and coloured +like wooden balls. My aunts never came there. My mother +used to send money, bon-bons, and toys. The foster-father died, +and my nurse married a concierge, who used to pull open the +door at 65 Rue de Provence.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Not knowing where to find my mother, and not being able to +write, my nurse—without telling any of my friends—took me +with her to her new abode.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The change delighted me. I was five years old at the time, +and I remember the day as if it were yesterday. My nurse’s +abode was just over the doorway of the house, and the window +was framed in the heavy and monumental door. From outside +I thought it was beautiful, and I began to clap my hands on +reaching the house. It was towards five o’clock in the evening, +in the month of November, when everything looks grey. I was +put to bed, and no doubt I went to sleep at once, for there end +my recollections of that day.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next morning there was terrible grief in store for me. +There was no window in the little room in which I slept, and I +began to cry, and escaped from the arms of my nurse, who was +dressing me, so that I could go into the adjoining room. I ran +to the round window, which was an immense “bull’s eye” above +the doorway. I pressed my stubborn brow against the glass, and +began to scream with rage on seeing no trees, no box-weed, no +leaves falling, nothing, nothing but stone—cold, grey, ugly +stone—and panes of glass opposite me. “I want to go away! +I don’t want to stay here! It is all black, black! It is ugly! +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>I want to see the ceiling of the street!” and I burst into tears. +My poor nurse took me up in her arms, and, folding me in a +rug, took me down into the courtyard. “Lift up your head, +Milk Blossom, and look! See—there is the ceiling of the +street!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It comforted me somewhat to see that there was some sky in +this ugly place, but my little soul was very sad. I could +not eat, and I grew pale and became anæmic, and should +certainly have died of consumption if it had not been for +a mere chance, a most unexpected incident. One day I was +playing in the courtyard with a little girl, called Titine, who +lived on the second floor, and whose face or real name I +cannot recall, when I saw my nurse’s husband walking across +the courtyard with two ladies, one of whom was most fashionably +attired. I could only see their backs, but the voice of +the fashionably attired lady caused my heart to stop beating. +My poor little body trembled with nervous excitement.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do any of the windows look on to the courtyard?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Madame, those four,” he replied, pointing to four open +ones on the first floor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The lady turned to look at them, and I uttered a cry of joy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Aunt Rosine! Aunt Rosine!” I exclaimed, clinging to +the skirts of the pretty visitor. I buried my face in her furs, +stamping, sobbing, laughing, and tearing her wide lace sleeves +in my frenzy of delight. She took me in her arms and tried to +calm me, and questioning the concierge, she stammered out to +her friend: “I can’t understand what it all means! This +is little Sarah! My sister Youle’s child!”</p> +<div id='i004fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i004fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AND HER MOTHER</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>The noise I made had attracted attention, and people opened +their windows. My aunt decided to take refuge in the +concierge’s lodge, in order to come to an explanation. My +poor nurse told her about all that had taken place, her +husband’s death, and her second marriage. I do not remember +what she said to excuse herself. I clung to my aunt, who was +deliciously perfumed, and I would not let go of her. She +promised to come the following day to fetch me, but I did not +want to stay any longer in that dark place. I asked to start at +once with my nurse. My aunt stroked my hair gently, and +spoke to her friend in a language I did not understand. She +tried in vain to explain something to me; I do not know what +it was, but I insisted that I wanted to go away with her at once. +In a gentle, tender, caressing voice, but without any real +affection, she said all kinds of pretty things, stroked me with +her gloved hands, patted my frock, which was turned up, and +made any amount of charming, frivolous little gestures, but +all without any real feeling. She then went away, at her friend’s +entreaty, after emptying her purse in my nurse’s hands. I rushed +towards the door, but the husband of my nurse, who had opened +it for her, now closed it again. My nurse was crying, and, +taking me in her arms, she opened the window, saying to me, +“Don’t cry, Milk Blossom. Look at your pretty aunt; she will +come back again, and then you can go away with her.” Great +tears rolled down her calm, round, handsome face. I could see +nothing but the dark, black hole which remained there immutable +behind me, and in a fit of despair I rushed out to my +aunt, who was just getting into a carriage. After that I knew +nothing more; everything seemed dark, there was a noise +in the distance. I could hear voices far, far away. I had +managed to escape from my poor nurse, and had fallen down on +the pavement in front of my aunt. I had broken my arm in +two places, and injured my left knee-cap. I only came to +myself again a few hours later, to find that I was in a beautiful, +wide bed which smelt very nice. It stood in the middle of +a large room, with two lovely windows, which made me very +joyful, for I could see the ceiling of the street through them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother, who had been sent for immediately, came to take +care of me, and I saw the rest of my family, my aunts and my +cousins. My poor little brain could not understand why all these +people should suddenly be so fond of me, when I had passed +so many days and nights only cared for by one single person.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I was weakly, and my bones small and friable, I was two +years recovering from this terrible fall, and during that time +was nearly always carried about. I will pass over these two +years of my life, which have left me only a vague memory of +being petted and of a chronic state of torpor.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span> + <h2 class='c008'>II<br> <span class='large'>AT BOARDING SCHOOL</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>One day my mother took me on her knees and said to me, +“You are a big girl now, and you must learn to read and write.” +I was then seven years old, and could neither read, write, nor +count, as I had been five years with the old nurse and two years +ill. “You must go to school,” continued my mother, playing +with my curly hair, “like a big girl.” I did not know what all +this meant, and I asked what a school was.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s a place where there are many little girls,” replied my +mother.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are they ill?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no! They are quite well, as you are now, and they +play together, and are very gay and happy.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I jumped about in delight, and gave free vent to my joy, +but on seeing tears in my mother’s eyes I flung myself in her +arms.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But what about you, Mamma?” I asked. “You will be all +alone, and you won’t have any little girl.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She bent down to me and said: “God has told me that He +will send me some flowers and a little baby.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My delight was more and more boisterous. “Then I shall +have a little brother!” I exclaimed, “or else a little sister. Oh +no, I don’t want that; I don’t like little sisters.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma kissed me very affectionately, and then I was dressed, +I remember, in a blue corded velvet frock, of which I was very +proud. Arrayed thus in all my splendour, I waited impatiently +for Aunt Rosine’s carriage, which was to take us to +Auteuil.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was about three when she arrived. The housemaid had +gone on about an hour before, and I had watched with delight +my little trunk and my toys being packed into the carriage. +The maid climbed up and took the seat by the driver, in spite +of my mother protesting at first against this. When my aunt’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>magnificent equipage arrived, mamma was the first to get in, +slowly and calmly. I got in when my turn came, giving myself +airs, because the concierge and some of the shopkeepers were +watching. My aunt then sprang in lightly, but by no means +calmly, after giving her orders in English to the stiff, +ridiculous-looking coachman, and handing him a paper on +which the address was written. Another carriage followed ours, +in which three men were seated: Régis L——, a friend of my +father’s, General de P——, and an artist, named Fleury, I think, +whose pictures of horses and sporting subjects were very much +in vogue just then.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I heard on the way that these gentlemen were to make arrangements +for a little dinner near Auteuil, to console mamma +for her great trouble in being separated from me. Some other +guests were to be there to meet them. I did not pay very +much attention to what my mother and my aunt said to each +other. Sometimes when they spoke of me they talked either +English or German, and smiled at me affectionately. The long +drive was greatly appreciated by me, for with my face pressed +against the window and my eyes wide open I gazed out eagerly +at the grey muddy road, with its ugly houses on each side, and +its bare trees. I thought it was all very beautiful, because it +kept changing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The carriage stopped at 18 Rue Boileau, Auteuil. On the +iron gate was a long, dark signboard, with gold letters. I looked +up at it, and mamma said, “You will be able to read that +soon, I hope.” My aunt whispered to me, “Boarding School, +Madame Fressard,” and very promptly I said to mamma, “It +says ‘Boarding School, Madame Fressard.’”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma, my aunt, and the three gentlemen laughed heartily +at my assurance, and we entered the house. Madame Fressard +came forward to meet us, and I liked her at once. She was of +medium height, rather stout, and her hair turning grey, <i><span lang="fr">à la +Sévigné</span></i>. She had beautiful large eyes, rather like George +Sand’s, and very white teeth, which showed up all the more as +her complexion was rather tawny. She looked healthy, spoke +kindly; her hands were plump and her fingers long. She took +my hand gently in hers, and half kneeling, so that her face was +level with mine, she said in a musical voice, “You won’t be +afraid of me, will you, little girl?” I did not answer, but my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>face flushed as red as a cockscomb. She asked me several +questions, but I refused to reply. They all gathered round me. +“Speak, child—— Come, Sarah, be a good girl—— Oh, the +naughty little child!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was all in vain. I remained perfectly mute. The customary +round was then made, to the bedrooms, the dining-hall, the +class-rooms, and the usual exaggerated compliments were paid. +“How beautifully it is all kept! How spotlessly clean everything +is!” and a hundred stupidities of this kind about the +comfort of these prisons for children. My mother went aside +with Madame Fressard, and I clung to her knees so that she +could not walk. “This is the doctor’s prescription,” she said, +and then followed a long list of things that were to be done +for me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Fressard smiled rather ironically. “You know, +Madame,” she said to my mother, “we shall not be able to curl +her hair like that.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you certainly will not be able to uncurl it,” replied my +mother, stroking my head with her gloved hands. “It’s a regular +wig, and they must never attempt to comb it until it has been +well brushed. They could not possibly get the knots out otherwise, +and it would hurt her too much. What do you give the +children at four o’clock?” she asked, changing the subject.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, a slice of bread and just what the parents leave for them.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There are twelve pots of different kinds of jam,” said my +mother, “but she must have jam one day, and chocolate +another, as she has not a good appetite, and requires change +of food. I have brought six pounds of chocolate.” Madame +Fressard smiled in a good-natured but rather ironical way. +She picked up a packet of the chocolate and looked at the +name of the maker.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah! from Marquis’s! What a spoiled little girl it is!” She +patted my cheek with her white fingers, and then as her eyes +fell on a large jar she looked surprised. “That’s cold cream,” +said my mother. “I make it myself, and I should like my little +girl’s face and hands to be rubbed with it every night when she +goes to bed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But——” began Madame Fressard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I’ll pay double laundry expenses for the sheets,” interrupted +my mother impatiently. (Ah, my poor mother! +<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>I remember quite well that my sheets were changed once a +month, like those of the other pupils.)</p> + +<p class='c013'>The farewell moment came at last, and every one gathered +round mamma, and finally carried her off, after a great deal of +kissing and with all kinds of consoling words. “It will be +so good for her—it is just what she needs—you’ll find her +quite changed when you see her again”—&c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The General, who was very fond of me, picked me up in +his arms and tossed me in the air.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You little chit,” he said; “they are putting you into +barracks, and you’ll have to mind your behaviour!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I pulled his long moustache, and he said, winking, and looking +in the direction of Madame Fressard, who had a slight +moustache, “You mustn’t do that to the lady, you know!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt laughed heartily, and my mother gave a little stifled +laugh, and the whole troop went off in a regular whirlwind +of rustling skirts and farewells, whilst I was taken away to the +cage where I was to be imprisoned.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I spent two years at this pension. I was taught reading, +writing, and reckoning. I also learnt a hundred new games. I +learnt to sing <i><span lang="fr">rondeaux</span></i> and to embroider handkerchiefs for +my mother. I was relatively happy there, as we always went +out somewhere on Thursdays and Sundays, and this gave me +the sensation of liberty. The very ground in the street seemed +to me quite different from the ground of the large garden +belonging to the pension. Besides, there were little festivities +at Madame Fressard’s which used to send me into raptures. +Mlle. Stella Colas, who had just made her <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> at the Théâtre +Français, came sometimes on Thursdays and recited poetry to +us. I could never sleep a wink the night before, and in the +morning I used to comb my hair carefully and get ready, +my heart beating fast with excitement, in order to listen to +something I did not understand at all, but which nevertheless +left me spell-bound. Then, too, there was quite a legend +attached to this pretty girl. She had flung herself almost +under the horses’ feet as the Emperor was driving along, in +order to attract his attention and obtain the pardon of her +brother, who had conspired against his sovereign.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Stella Colas had a sister at Madame Fressard’s, and this +sister, Clothilde, is now the wife of M. Pierre Merlou, Under +<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>Secretary of State in the Treasury Department. Stella was +slight and fair, with blue eyes that were rather hard but +expressive. She had a deep voice, and when this pale, fragile +girl began to recite Athalie’s Dream, it thrilled me through and +through. How many times, seated on my child’s bed, did +I practise saying in a low voice, “<i><span lang="fr">Tremble, fille digne de +moi</span></i>”—I used to twist my head on my shoulders, swell out my +cheeks, and commence:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<em>Tremble—trem-ble—trem-em-ble——</em>”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But it always ended badly, and I would begin again very +quietly, in a stifled voice, and then unconsciously speak louder; +and my companions, roused by the noise, were amused at my +attempts, and roared with laughter. I would then rush about +to the right and left, giving them kicks and blows, which they +returned with interest.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Fressard’s adopted daughter, Mlle. Caroline (whom +I chanced to meet a long time after, married to the celebrated +artist, Yvon), would then appear on the scene. Angry and +implacable, she would give us all kinds of punishments for the +following day. As for me, I used to get locked up for three +days: that was followed by my being detained on the first day +we were allowed out. And in addition I would receive five +strokes with a ruler on my fingers. Ah! those ruler strokes of +Mlle. Caroline’s! I reproached her about them when I met her +again twenty-five years later. She used to make us put all +our fingers round the thumb and hold our hands straight out +to her, and then bang came her wide ebony ruler. She used to +give us a cruelly hard, sharp blow which made the tears spurt to +our eyes. I took a dislike to Mlle. Caroline. She was beautiful, +but with the kind of beauty I did not care for. She had a very +white complexion, and very black hair, which she wore in waved +<i><span lang="fr">bandeaux</span></i>. When I saw her a long time afterwards, one of my +relatives brought her to my house and said, “I am sure you +will not recognise this lady, and yet you know her very well.” I +was leaning against the large mantelpiece in the hall, and I saw +this tall woman, still beautiful, but rather provincial-looking, +coming through the first drawing-room. As she descended +the three steps into the hall the light fell on her protruding +forehead, framed on each side with the hard, waved +<i><span lang="fr">bandeaux</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>“Mademoiselle Caroline!” I exclaimed, and with a furtive, +childish movement I hid my two hands behind my back. I +never saw her again, for the grudge I had owed her from my +childhood must have been apparent under my politeness as +hostess.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I said before, I was not unhappy at Madame Fressard’s, +and it seemed quite natural to me that I should stay there until +I was quite a grown-up girl. My uncle, Félix Faure, who +has entered the Carthusian monastery, had stipulated that his +wife, my mother’s sister, should often take me out. He had a +very fine country place at Neuilly, with a stream running +through the grounds, and I used to fish there for hours, together +with my two cousins, a boy and girl.</p> + +<p class='c013'>These two years of my life passed peacefully, without any +other events than my terrible fits of temper, which upset the +whole pension and always left me in the infirmary for two or +three days. These outbursts of temper were like attacks of +madness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day Aunt Rosine arrived suddenly to take me away +altogether. My father had written giving orders as to where +I was to be placed, and these orders were imperative. My +mother was travelling, so she had sent word to my aunt, who +had hurried off at once, between two dances, to carry out the +instructions she had received.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The idea that I was to be ordered about, without any regard +to my own wishes or inclinations, put me into an indescribable +rage. I rolled about on the ground, uttering the most heartrending +cries. I yelled out all kinds of reproaches, blaming +mamma, my aunts, and Madame Fressard for not finding some +way to keep me with her. The struggle lasted two hours, and +while I was being dressed I escaped twice into the garden and +attempted to climb the trees and to throw myself into the +pond, in which there was more mud than water.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally, when I was completely exhausted and subdued, I was +taken off, sobbing, in my aunt’s carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stayed three days at her house, as I was so feverish that my +life was said to be in danger.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My father used to come to my aunt Rosine’s, who was then +living at 6 Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin. He was on friendly +terms with Rossini, who lived at No. 4 in the same street. He +<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>often brought him in, and Rossini made me laugh with his clever +stories and comic grimaces.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My father was as “handsome as a god,” and I used to look at +him with pride. I did not know him well, as I saw him so rarely, +but I loved him for his seductive voice and his slow, gentle gestures. +He commanded a certain respect, and I noticed that +even my exuberant aunt calmed down in his presence.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had recovered, and Dr. Monod, who was attending me, said +that I could now be moved without any fear of ill effects.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had been waiting for my mother, but she was ill at +Haarlem. My aunt offered to accompany us if my father would +take me to the convent, but he refused, and I can hear him now +with his gentle voice saying:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; her mother will take her to the convent. I have written +to the Faures, and the child is to stay there a fortnight.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt was about to protest, but my father replied:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s quieter there, my dear Rosine, and the child needs +tranquillity more than anything else.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went that very evening to my aunt Faure’s. I did not care +much for her, as she was cold and affected, but I adored my +uncle. He was so gentle and so calm, and there was an infinite +charm in his smile. His son was as turbulent as I was myself, +adventurous and rather hare-brained, so that we always liked +being together. His sister, an adorable, Greuze-like girl, was +reserved, and always afraid of soiling her frocks and even her +pinafores. The poor child married Baron Cerise, and died during +her confinement, in the very flower of youth and beauty, because +her timidity, her reserve, and narrow education had made her +refuse to see a doctor when the intervention of a medical man +was absolutely necessary. I was very fond of her, and her death +was a great grief to me. At present I never see the faintest ray +of moonlight without its evoking a pale vision of her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stayed three weeks at my uncle’s, roaming about with my +cousin and spending hours lying down flat, fishing for cray-fish +in the little stream that ran through the park. This park was +immense, and surrounded by a wide ditch. How many times I +used to have bets with my cousins that I would jump that +ditch! The bet was sometimes three sheets of paper, or five +pins, or perhaps my two pancakes, for we used to have pancakes +every Tuesday. And after the bet I jumped, more often than +<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>not falling into the ditch and splashing about in the green water, +screaming because I was afraid of the frogs, and yelling with +terror when my cousins pretended to rush away.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I returned to the house my aunt was always watching +anxiously at the top of the stone steps for our arrival. What a +lecture I had, and what a cold look.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Go upstairs and change your clothes, Mademoiselle,” she +would say, “and then stay in your room. Your dinner will be +sent to you there without any dessert.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I passed the big glass in the hall I caught sight of myself, +looking like a rotten tree stump, and I saw my cousin +making signs, by putting his hand to his mouth, that he would +bring me some dessert.</p> + +<p class='c013'>His sister used to go to his mother, who fondled her and +seemed to say, “Thank Heaven you are not like that little +Bohemian!” This was my aunt’s stinging epithet for me in +moments of anger. I used to go up to my room with a heavy +heart, thoroughly ashamed and vexed, vowing to myself that I +would never again jump the ditch, but on reaching my room I +used to find the gardener’s daughter there, a big, awkward, +merry girl, who used to wait on me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, how comic Mademoiselle looks like that!” she would +say, laughing so heartily that I was proud of looking comic, and +I decided that when I jumped the ditch again I would get weeds +and mud all over me. When I had undressed and washed I +used to put on a flannel gown and wait in my room until my +dinner came. Soup was sent up, and then meat, bread, and +water. I detested meat then, just as I do now, and threw it +out of the window after cutting off the fat, which I put on the +rim of my plate, as my aunt used to come up unexpectedly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Have you eaten your dinner, Mademoiselle?” she would +ask.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Aunt,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you still hungry?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, Aunt.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Write out ‘Our Father’ and the ‘Creed’ three times, you +little heathen.” This was because I had not been baptized. A +quarter of an hour later my uncle would come upstairs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Have you had enough dinner?” he would ask.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Uncle,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>“Did you eat your meat?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; I threw it out of the window. I don’t like meat.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You told your aunt an untruth, then.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; she asked me if I had eaten my dinner, and I answered +that I had, but I did not say that I had eaten my meat.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What punishment has she given you?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am to write out ‘Our Father’ and the ‘Creed’ three +times before going to bed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you know them by heart?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, not very well; I make mistakes always.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And the adorable man would then dictate to me “Our +Father” and the “Creed,” and I copied it in the most devoted +way, as he used to dictate with deep feeling and emotion. He +was religious, very religious indeed, this uncle of mine, and +after the death of my aunt he became a Carthusian monk. As +I write these lines, ill and aged as he is, and bent with pain, +I know he is digging his own grave, weak with the weight of +the spade, imploring God to take him, and thinking sometimes +of me, of his little Bohemian. Ah, the dear, good man, it is +to him that I owe all that is best in me. I love him devotedly +and have the greatest respect for him. How many times in +the difficult phases of my life I have thought of him and consulted +his ideas, for I never saw him again, as my aunt +quarrelled purposely with my mother and me. He was always +fond of me, though, and has told his friends to assure me of +this. Occasionally, too, he has sent me his advice, which has +always been very straightforward and full of indulgence and +common sense.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Recently I went to the country where the Carthusians have +taken refuge. A friend of mine went to see my uncle, and I +wept on hearing the words he had dictated to be repeated to +me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>To return to my story. After my uncle’s visit, Marie, the +gardener’s daughter, came to my room, looking quite indifferent, +but with her pockets stuffed with apples, biscuits, raisins, and +nuts. My cousin had sent me some dessert, but she, the good-hearted +girl, had cleared all the dessert dishes. I told her to +sit down and crack the nuts, and I would eat them when I had +finished my “Lord’s Prayer” and “Creed.” She sat down on +the floor, so that she could hide everything quickly under the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>table in case my aunt returned. But my aunt did not come +again, as she and her daughter used to spend their evenings at +the piano, whilst my uncle taught his son mathematics.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally, my mother wrote to say that she was coming. There +was great excitement in my uncle’s house, and my little trunk +was packed in readiness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Grand-Champs Convent, which I was about to enter, +had a prescribed uniform, and my cousin, who loved sewing, +marked all my things with the initials S. B. in red cotton. My +uncle gave me a silver spoon, fork, and goblet, and these were +all marked 32, which was the number under which I was +registered there. Marie gave me a thick woollen muffler in +shades of violet, which she had been knitting for me in secret +for several days. My aunt put round my neck a little scapulary +which had been blessed, and when my mother and father arrived +everything was ready.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A farewell dinner was given, to which two of my mother’s +friends, Aunt Rosine, and four other members of the family +were invited.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt very important. I was neither sad nor gay, but had +just this feeling of importance which was quite enough for me. +Every one at table talked about me; my uncle kept stroking +my hair, and my cousin from her end of the table threw me +kisses. Suddenly my father’s musical voice made me turn +towards him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Listen to me, Sarah,” he said. “If you are very good at the +convent, I will come in four years and fetch you away, and you +shall travel with me and see some beautiful countries.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I will be good!” I exclaimed; “I’ll be as good as Aunt +Henriette!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was my aunt Faure. Everybody smiled.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After dinner, the weather being very fine, we all went out to +stroll in the park. My father took me with him, and talked +to me very seriously. He told me things that were sad, which +I had never heard before. I understood, although I was so +young, and my eyes filled with tears. He was sitting on an +old bench and I was on his knee, with my head resting on his +shoulder. I listened to all he said and cried silently, my +childish mind disturbed by his words. Poor father! I was +never, never to see him again.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span> + <h2 class='c008'>III<br> <span class='large'>CONVENT LIFE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>I did not sleep well that night, and the following morning +at eight o’clock we started by diligence for Versailles. I can +see Marie now, great big girl as she then was, in tears. All +the members of the family were assembled at the top of the +stone steps. There was my little trunk, and then a wooden +case of games which my mother had brought, and a kite that +my cousin had made, which he gave me at the last moment, +just as the carriage was starting. I can still see the large white +house, which seemed to get smaller and smaller the farther we +drove away from it. I stood up, with my father holding me, +and waved his blue silk muffler which I had taken from his +neck. After this I sat down in the carriage and fell asleep, +only rousing up again when we were at the heavy-looking door +of the Grand-Champs Convent. I rubbed my eyes and tried +to collect my thoughts. I then jumped down from the +diligence and looked curiously around me. The paving-stones +of the street were round and small, with grass growing everywhere. +There was a wall, and then a great gateway surmounted +by a cross, and nothing behind it, nothing whatever to be seen. +To the left there was a house, and to the right the Satory +barracks. Not a sound to be heard—not a footfall, not even +an echo.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Mamma,” I exclaimed, “is it inside there I am to go? +Oh no! I would rather go back to Madame Fressard’s!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother shrugged her shoulders and pointed to my father, +thus explaining that she was not responsible for this step. I +rushed to him, and he took me by the hand as he rang the +bell. The door opened, and he led me gently in, followed by +my mother and Aunt Rosine.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>The courtyard was large and dreary-looking, but there were +buildings to be seen, and windows from which children’s faces +were gazing curiously at us. My father said something to the +nun who came forward, and she took us into the parlour. This +was large, with a polished floor, and was divided by an enormous +black grating which ran the whole length of the room. There +were benches covered with red velvet by the wall, and a few +chairs and arm-chairs near the grating. On the walls were a +portrait of Pius IX., a full length one of St. Augustine, and one +of Henri V. My teeth chattered, for it seemed to me that I +remembered reading in some book the description of a prison, and +that it was just like this. I looked at my father and my mother, +and began to distrust them. I had so often heard that I was +ungovernable, that I needed an iron hand to rule me, and that I +was the devil incarnate in a child. My aunt Faure had so often +repeated, “That child will come to a bad end, she has such mad +ideas,” &c. &c. “Papa, papa!” I suddenly cried out, seized with +terror; “I won’t go to prison. This is a prison, I am sure. I +am frightened—oh, I am so frightened!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the other side of the grating a door had just opened, and +I stopped to see who was coming. A little round, short woman +made her appearance and came up to the grating. Her black +veil was lowered as far as her mouth, so that I could scarcely see +anything of her face. She recognised my father, whom she had +probably seen before, when matters were being arranged. She +opened a door in the grating, and we all went through to the +other side of the room. On seeing me pale and my terrified +eyes full of tears, she gently took my hand in hers and, turning +her back to my father, raised her veil. I then saw the sweetest +and merriest face imaginable, with large child-like blue eyes, a +turn-up nose, a laughing mouth with full lips and beautiful, +strong, white teeth. She looked so kind, so energetic, and so +happy that I flung myself at once into her arms. It was Mother +St. Sophie, the Superior of the Grand-Champs Convent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, we are friends now, you see,” she said to my father, +lowering her veil again. What secret instinct could have told +this woman, who was not coquettish, who had no looking-glass +and never troubled about beauty, that her face was fascinating +and that her bright smile could enliven the gloom of the +convent?</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>“We will now go and see the house,” she said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We at once started, she and my father each holding one of +my hands. Two other nuns accompanied us, one of whom was +the Mother Prefect, a tall, cold woman with thin lips, and the +other Sister Séraphine, who was as white and supple as a spray +of lily of the valley. We entered the building, and came +first to the large class-room in which all the pupils met +on Thursdays at the lectures, which were nearly always given +by Mother St. Sophie. Most of them did needlework all day +long; some worked at tapestry, others embroidery, and still +others decalcography.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The room was very large, and on St. Catherine’s Day and +other holidays we used to dance there. It was in this room, +too, that once a year the Mother Superior gave to each of the +sisters the <i><span lang="fr">sou</span></i> which represented her annual income. The walls +were adorned with religious engravings and with a few oil paintings done by the pupils. The place of honour, though, belonged +to St. Augustine. A magnificent large engraving depicted the +conversion of this saint, and oh, how often I have looked at +that engraving. St. Augustine has certainly caused me very +much emotion and greatly disturbed my childish heart. Mamma +admired the cleanliness of the refectory. She asked to see which +would be my seat at table, and when this was shown to her she +objected strongly to my having that place.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” she said; “the child has not a strong chest, and she +would always be in a draught. I will not let her sit there.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My father agreed with my mother, and insisted on a change +being made. It was therefore decided that I should sit at the +end of the room, and the promise given was faithfully kept.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When mamma saw the wide staircase leading to the dormitories +she was aghast. It was very, very wide, and the steps +were low and easy to mount, but there were so many of them +before one reached the first floor. For a few seconds mamma +hesitated and stood there gazing at them, her arms hanging +down in despair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Stay down here, Youle,” said my aunt, “and I will go up.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no,” replied my mother in a sorrowful voice. “I must +see where the child is to sleep—she is so delicate.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My father helped her, and indeed almost carried her up, and +we then went into one of the immense dormitories. It was very +much like the dormitory at Madame Fressard’s, but a great deal +larger, and there was a tiled floor without any carpet.</p> +<div id='i018fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i018fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>THE GRAND CHAMP CONVENT, FROM THE GARDEN</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>“Oh, this is quite impossible!” exclaimed mamma. “The +child cannot sleep here; it is too cold; it would kill her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Mother Superior, St. Sophie, gave my mother a chair +and tried to soothe her. She was pale, for her heart was +already very much affected.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We will put your little girl in this dormitory, Madame,” she +said, opening a door that led into a room with eight beds. The +floor was of polished wood, and this room, adjoining the infirmary, +was the one in which delicate or convalescent children +slept. Mamma was reassured on seeing this, and we then went +down and inspected the grounds. There were three woods, the +“Little Wood,” the “Middle Wood,” and the “Big Wood,” and +then there was an orchard that stretched along as far as the eye +could see. In this orchard was the building where the poor +children lived. They were taught gratis, and every week they +helped with the laundry for the convent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The sight of these immense woods, with swings, hammocks, +and a gymnasium, delighted me, for I thought I should be able +to roam about at pleasure there. Mother St. Sophie explained +to us that the Little Wood was reserved for the older pupils, +and the Middle Wood for the little ones, whilst the Big Wood +was for the whole convent on holidays. Then after telling us +about the collecting of the chestnuts and the gathering of the +acacia, Mother St. Sophie informed us that every child could +have a small garden, and that sometimes two or three of them +had a larger one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, can I have a garden of my own?” I exclaimed—“a +garden all to myself?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, one of your own.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Mother Superior called the gardener, Père Larcher, the +only man, with the exception of the chaplain, who was on the +convent staff.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Père Larcher,” said the kind woman, “here is a little girl +who wants a beautiful garden. Find a nice place for it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very good, Reverend Mother,” answered the honest fellow, +and I saw my father slip a coin into his hand, for which the +man thanked him in an embarrassed way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was getting late, and we had to separate. I remember +<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>quite well that I did not feel any grief, as I was thinking of +nothing but my garden. The convent no longer seemed to me +like a prison, but like paradise. I kissed my mother and my +aunt. Papa drew me to him and held me a moment in a close +embrace. When I looked at him I saw that his eyes were full +of tears. I did not feel at all inclined to cry, and I gave him a +hearty kiss and whispered, “I am going to be very, very good +and work well, so that I can go with you at the end of four +years.” I then went towards my mother, who was giving +Mother St. Sophie the same instructions she had given to +Madame Fressard about cold cream, chocolate, jam, &c. &c. +Mother St. Sophie wrote down all these instructions, and it is +only fair to say that she carried them out afterwards most +scrupulously.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When my parents had gone I felt inclined to cry, but the +Mother Superior took me by the hand and, leading me to the +Middle Wood, showed me where my garden would be. That +was quite enough to distract my thoughts, for we found Père +Larcher there marking out my piece of ground in a corner of +the wood. There was a young birch tree against the wall. The +corner was formed by the joining of two walls, one of which +bounded the railway line on the left bank of the river which cuts +the Satory woods in two. The other wall was that of the +cemetery. All the woods of the convent were part of the +beautiful Satory forest.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They had all given me money, my father, my mother, and my +aunt. I had altogether about forty or fifty francs, and I wanted +to give all to Père Larcher for buying seed. The Mother +Superior smiled, and sent for the Mother Treasurer and Mother +St. Appoline. I had to hand all my money over to the former, +with the exception of twenty sous which she left me, saying, +“When that is all gone, little girl, come and get some more +from me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mother St. Appoline, who taught botany, then asked me what +kind of flowers I wanted. What kind of flowers! Why, I wanted +every sort that grew. She at once proceeded to give me a +botany lesson by explaining that all flowers did not grow at the +same season. She then asked the Mother Treasurer for some of +my money, which she gave to Père Larcher, telling him to buy +me a spade, a rake, a hoe, and a watering-can, some seeds +<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>and a few plants, the names of which she wrote down for him. +I was delighted, and I then went with Mother St. Sophie to +the refectory to have dinner. On entering the immense room +I stood still for a second, amazed and confused. More than +a hundred girls were assembled there, standing up for the +benediction to be pronounced. When the Mother Superior +appeared, every one bowed respectfully, and then all eyes were +turned on me. Mother St. Sophie took me to the seat which +had been chosen for me at the end of the room, and then +returned to the middle of the refectory. She stood still, made +the sign of the cross, and in an audible voice pronounced the +benediction. As she left the room every one bowed again, +and I then found myself alone, quite alone, in this cage of +little wild animals. I was seated between two little girls of +from ten to twelve years old, both as dusky as two young +moles. They were twins from Jamaica, and their names were +Dolores and Pepa Cardaños. They had only been in the +convent two months, and appeared to be as timid as I was. The +dinner was composed of soup made of everything, and of veal +with haricot beans. I detested soup, and I have always had +a horror of veal. I turned my plate over when the soup was +handed round, but the nun who waited on us turned it round +again and poured the hot soup in, regardless of scalding me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You must eat your soup,” whispered my right hand neighbour, +whose name was Pepa.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I don’t like that sort and I don’t want any,” I said aloud. +The inspectress was passing by just at that moment.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You must eat your soup, Mademoiselle,” she said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, I don’t like that sort of soup,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She smiled, and said in a gentle voice, “We must like +everything. I shall be coming round again just now. Be +a good girl and take your soup.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was getting into a rage, but Dolores gave me her empty +plate and ate up the soup for me. When the inspectress came +round again she expressed her satisfaction. I was furious, and +put my tongue out, and this made all the table laugh. She +turned round, and the pupil who sat at the end of the table +and was appointed to watch over us, because she was the eldest, +said to her in a low voice, “It’s the new girl making grimaces.” +The inspectress moved away again, and when the veal was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>served my portion found its way to the plate of Dolores. I +wanted to keep the haricot beans, though, and we almost came +to a quarrel over them. She gave way finally, but with the veal +she dragged away a few beans which I tried to keep on my +plate.</p> + +<p class='c013'>An hour later we had evening prayers, and afterwards all +went up to bed. My bed was placed against the wall, in which +there was a niche for the statue of the Virgin Mary. A lamp +was always kept burning in the niche, and the oil for it was +provided by the children who had been ill and were grateful for +their recovery. Two tiny flower-pots were placed at the foot of +the little statue. The pots were of terra-cotta and the flowers +of paper. I made paper flowers very well, and I at once decided +that I would make all the flowers for the Virgin Mary. I fell +asleep, to dream of garlands of flowers, of haricot beans, and of +distant countries, for the twins from Jamaica had made an impression +on my mind.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The awakening was cruel. I was not accustomed to get up +so early. Daylight was scarcely visible through the opaque +window-panes. I grumbled as I dressed, for we were allowed a +quarter of an hour, and it always took me a good half-hour to +comb my hair. Sister Marie, seeing that I was not ready, came +towards me, and before I knew what she was going to do +snatched the comb violently out of my hand.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come, come,” she said; “you must not dawdle like this.” +She then planted the comb in my mop of hair and tore out a +handful of it. Pain, and anger at seeing myself treated in this +way, threw me immediately into one of my fits of rage which +always terrified those who witnessed them. I flung myself upon +the unfortunate sister, and with feet, teeth, hands, elbows, head, +and indeed all my poor little body, I hit and thumped, yelling +at the same time. All the pupils, all the sisters, and indeed +every one, came running to see what was the matter. The +sisters made the sign of the cross, but did not venture to +approach me. The Mother Prefect threw some holy water over +me to exorcise the evil spirit. Finally the Mother Superior +arrived on the scene. My father had told her of my fits of wild +fury, which were my only serious fault, and my state of health was +quite as much responsible for them as the violence of my disposition. +She approached me as I was still clutching Sister Marie, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>though I was exhausted by this struggle with the poor woman, +who, although tall and strong, only tried to ward off my blows +without retaliating, endeavouring to hold first my feet and then +my hands.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked up on hearing Mother St. Sophie’s voice. My eyes +were bathed in tears, but nevertheless I saw such an expression +of pity on her sweet face that, without altogether letting go, I +ceased fighting for a second, and all trembling and ashamed, said +very quickly, “She commenced it. She snatched the comb out +of my hand like a wicked woman, and tore out my hair. She +was rough and hurt me. She is a wicked, wicked woman.” I +then burst into sobs, and my hands loosed their hold. The next +thing I knew was that I found myself lying on my little bed, with +Mother St. Sophie’s hand on my forehead and her kind, deep +voice lecturing me gently. All the others had gone, and I was +quite alone with her and the Holy Virgin in the niche. From +that day forth Mother St. Sophie had an immense influence +over me. Every morning I went to her, and Sister Marie, whose +forgiveness I had been obliged to ask before the whole convent, +combed my hair out in her presence. Seated on a little stool, I +listened to the book that the Mother Superior read to me or to +the instructive story she told me. Ah, what an adorable +woman she was, and how I love to recall her to my memory!</p> + +<p class='c013'>I adored her as a child adores the being who has entirely won +its heart, without knowing, without reasoning, without even +being aware that it was so, but I was simply under the spell of +an infinite fascination. Since then, however, I have understood +and admired her, realising how unique and radiant a soul was +imprisoned under the thick-set exterior and happy face of that +holy woman. I have loved her ever since for all that she +awakened within me of nobleness. I love her for the letters +which she wrote to me, letters that I often read over and over +again. I love her also because, imperfect as I am, it seems to +me that I should have been one hundred times more so had I +not known and loved that pure creature.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Once only did I see her severe and felt that she was suddenly +angry. In the little room used as a parlour, leading into her +cell, there was a portrait of a young man, whose handsome face +was stamped with a certain nobility.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Is that the Emperor?” I asked her.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>“No,” she answered, turning quickly towards me; “it is the +King; it is Henri V.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was only later on that I understood the meaning of her +emotion. All the convent was royalist, and Henri V. was their +recognised sovereign. They all had the most utter contempt for +Napoleon III., and on the day when the Prince Imperial was +baptized there was no distribution of bon-bons for us, and we +were not allowed the holiday that was accorded to all the +colleges, boarding schools, and convents. Politics were a dead +letter to me, and I was happy at the convent, thanks to Mother +St. Sophie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then, too, I was a favourite with my schoolfellows, who +frequently did my compositions for me. I did not care for any +studies, except geography and drawing. Arithmetic drove me +wild, spelling plagued my life out, and I thoroughly despised +the piano. I was very timid, and quite lost my head when +questioned unexpectedly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had a passion for animals of all kinds. I used to carry +about with me, in small cardboard boxes or cages that +I manufactured myself, adders, of which our woods were full, +crickets that I found on the leaves of the tiger lilies, and +lizards. The latter nearly always had their tails broken, as, in +order to see if they were eating, I used to lift the lid of the box +a little, and on seeing this the lizards rushed to the opening. +I shut the box very quickly, red with surprise at such assurance, +and <i><span lang="ca">crac!</span></i> in a twinkling, either at right or left, there was +nearly always a tail caught. This used to grieve me for hours, +and whilst one of the sisters was explaining to us, by figures on +the blackboard, the metric system, I was wondering, with my +lizard’s tail in my hand, how I could fasten it on again. I had +some <i><span lang="fr">toc-marteau</span></i> (death watches) in a little box, and five spiders +in a cage that Père Larcher had made for me with some wire +netting. I used, very cruelly, to give flies to my spiders, and +they, fat and well fed, would spin their webs. Very often +during recreation a whole group of us, ten or twelve little girls, +would stand round, with a cage on a bench or tree stump, and +watch the wonderful work of these little creatures. If one of +my schoolfellows cut herself I used to go at once to her, feeling +very proud and important: “Come at once,” I would say, +“I have some fresh spider-web, and I will wrap your finger +<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>in it.” Provided with a little thin stick, I would take the +web and wrap it round the wounded finger. “And now, +my lady spiders, you must begin your work again,” and, active +and minute, <i><span lang="fr">mesdames</span></i> the spiders began their spinning once +more.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was looked upon as a little authority, and was made umpire +in questions that had to be decided. I used to receive orders +for fashionable trousseaux, made of paper, for dolls. It was +quite an easy thing for me in those days to make long ermine +cloaks with fur tippets and muff, and this filled my little +playfellows with admiration. I charged for my <i><span lang="fr">trousseaux</span></i>, +according to their importance, two pencils, five <i><span lang="fr">tête-de-mort</span></i> +nibs, or a couple of sheets of white paper. In short, I became +a personality, and that sufficed for my childish pride. I did not +learn anything, and I received no distinctions. My name was +only once on the honour list, and that was not as a studious +pupil, but for a courageous deed. I had fished a little girl out +of the big pool. She had fallen in whilst trying to catch frogs. +The pool was in the large orchard, on the poor children’s side of +the grounds. As a punishment for some misdeed, which I do +not remember, I had been sent away for two days among +the poor children. This was supposed to be a punishment, but +I delighted in it. In the first place, I was looked upon by them as a +“young lady.” Then I used to give the day pupils a few sous +to bring me, on the sly, a little moist sugar. During recreation +I heard some heartrending shrieks, and, rushing to the pool +from whence they came, I jumped into the water without +reflecting. There was so much mud that we both sank in it. +The little girl was only four years old, and so small that she +kept disappearing. I was over ten at that time. I do not +know how I managed to rescue her, but I dragged her out of +the water with her mouth, nose, ears, and eyes all filled with +mud. I was told afterwards that it was a long time before +she was restored to consciousness. As for me, I was carried +away with my teeth chattering, nervous and half fainting. +I was very feverish afterwards, and Mother St. Sophie herself +sat up with me. I overheard her words to the doctor:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“This child,” she said, “is one of the best we have here. +She will be perfect when once she has received the holy +chrism.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>This speech made such an impression on me that from that +day forth mysticism had great hold on me. I had a very vivid +imagination and was extremely sensitive, and the Christian +legend took possession of me, heart and soul. The Son of God +became the object of my worship and the Mother of the Seven +Sorrows my ideal.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span> + <h2 class='c008'>IV<br> <span class='large'>MY DÉBUT</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>An event, very simple in itself, was destined to disturb the +silence of our secluded life and to attach me more than ever to +my convent, where I wanted to remain for ever.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Archbishop of Paris, Monseigneur Sibour, was paying a +round of visits to some of the communities, and ours was among +the chosen ones. The news was told us by Mother St. Alexis, +the <i><span lang="fr">doyenne</span></i>, the most aged member of the community, who was +so tall, so thin, and so old that I never looked upon her as a +human being or as a living being. It always seemed to me as +though she were stuffed, and as though she moved by machinery. +She frightened me, and I never consented to go near her until +after her death.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were all assembled in the large room which we used on +Thursdays. Mother St. Alexis, supported by two lay sisters, +stood on the little platform, and in a voice that sounded far, far +off announced to us the approaching visit of Monseigneur. He +was to come on St. Catherine’s Day, just a fortnight after the +speech of the Reverend Mother.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our peaceful convent was from thenceforth like a bee-hive into +which a hornet had entered. Our lesson hours were curtailed, so +that we might have time to make festoons of roses and lilies. +The wide, tall arm-chair of carved wood was uncushioned, so +that it might be varnished and polished. We made lamp-shades +covered with crystalline. The grass was pulled up in the +courtyard—and I cannot tell what was not done in honour of +this visitor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two days after the announcement made by Mother St. Alexis, +the programme of the <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> was communicated to us by Mother +St. Sophie. The youngest of the nuns was to read a few words +of welcome to Monseigneur. This was the delightful Sister +<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>Séraphine. After that Marie Buguet was to play a pianoforte +solo by Henri Herz. Marie de Lacour was to sing a song by +Louise Puget, and then a little play in three scenes was to be +given, entitled <cite>Tobit Recovering his Eyesight</cite>. It had been +written by Mother St. Thérèse. I have now before me the little +manuscript, all yellow with age and torn, and I can only just +make out the sense of it and a few of the phrases. Scene I. +Tobias’s farewell to his blind father. He vows to bring back +to him the ten talents lent to Gabael, one of his relatives. +Scene II. Tobias, asleep on the banks of the Tigris, is being +watched over by the Angel Raphael. Struggle with a +monster fish which had attacked Tobias whilst he slept. When +the fish is killed the angel advises Tobias to take its heart, its +liver, and its gall, and to preserve these religiously. Scene III. +Tobias’s return to his blind father. The angel tells him to rub +the old man’s eyes with the entrails of the fish. The father’s +eyesight is restored, and when Tobit begs the Angel Raphael to +accept some reward, the latter makes himself known, and, in a +song to the glory of God, vanishes to heaven.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The little play was read to us by Mother St. Thérèse, one +Thursday, in the large assembly room. We were all in tears at +the end, and Mother St. Thérèse was obliged to make a great +effort in order to avoid committing, if only for a second, the sin +of pride.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I wondered anxiously what part I should take in this religious +comedy, for, considering that I was now treated as a little personage, +I had no doubt that some <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> would be given to me. +The very thought of it made me tremble beforehand. I began +to get quite nervous; my hands became quite cold, my heart +beat furiously, and my temples throbbed. I did not approach, +but remained sulkily seated on my stool when Mother St. Thérèse +said in her calm voice:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Young ladies, please pay attention, and listen to your +names and the different parts:</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><em>Tobit</em></td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Eugénie Charmel</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><em>Tobias</em></td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Amélie Pluche</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><em>Gabael</em></td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Renée d’Arville</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><em>The Angel Raphael</em></td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Louise Buguet</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><em>Tobias’s mother</em></td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Eulalie Lacroix</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><em>Tobias’s sister</em></td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Virginie Depaul</span>.”</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>I had been listening, although pretending not to, and I was +stupefied, amazed, and furious. Mother St. Thérèse then added, +“Here are your manuscripts, young ladies,” and a manuscript of +the little play was handed to each pupil chosen to take part in it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Louise Buguet was my favourite playmate, and I went up to +her and asked her to let me see her manuscript, which I read +over enthusiastically.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You’ll make me rehearse, when I know my part, won’t +you?” she asked, and I answered, “Yes, certainly.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, how frightened I shall be!” she said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She had been chosen for the angel, I suppose, because she was +as pale and sweet as a moonbeam. She had a soft, timid voice, +and sometimes we used to make her cry, as she was so pretty +then. The tears used to flow limpid and pearl-like from her +grey, questioning eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She began at once to learn her part, and I was like a shepherd’s +dog going from one to another among the chosen ones. It had +really nothing to do with me, but I wanted to be “in it.” The +Mother Superior passed by, and as we all curtseyed to her she +patted my cheek.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We thought of you, little girl,” she said, “but you are so +timid when you are asked anything.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, that’s when it is history or arithmetic,” I said. “This +is not the same thing, and I should not have been afraid.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She smiled distrustfully and moved on. There were rehearsals +during the next week. I asked to be allowed to take the part +of the monster, as I wanted to have some <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> in the play at any +cost. It was decided, though, that César, the convent dog, +should be the fish monster.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A competition was opened for the fish costume. I went to +an endless amount of trouble cutting out scales from cardboard +that I had painted, and sewing them together afterwards. I +made some enormous gills, which were to be glued on to César. +My costume was not chosen; it was passed over for that of a +stupid, big girl whose name I cannot remember. She had made +a huge tail of kid and a mask with big eyes and gills, but there +were no scales, and we should have to see César’s shaggy coat. +I nevertheless turned my attention to Louise Buguet’s costume +and worked at it with two of the lay sisters, Sister St. Cécile and +Sister St. Jeanne, who had charge of the linen room.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>At the rehearsals not a word could be extorted from the +Angel Raphael. She stood there stupefied on the little platform, +tears dimming her beautiful eyes. She brought the whole +play to a standstill, and kept appealing to me in a weeping +voice. I prompted her, and, getting up, rushed to her, kissed +her, and whispered her whole speech to her. I was beginning +to be “in it” myself at last.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally, two days before the great solemnity, there was a dress +rehearsal. The angel looked lovely, but, immediately on entering, +she sank down on a bench, sobbing out in an imploring voice:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no; I shall never be able to do it, never!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Quite true, she never will be able to,” sighed Mother St. +Sophie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Forgetting for the moment my little friend’s grief, and wild +with joy, pride, and assurance, I ran up to the platform and +bounded on to the form on which the Angel Raphael had sunk +down weeping.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Mother, I know her part. Shall I take her place for the +rehearsal?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, yes!” exclaimed voices from all sides.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, you know it so well,” said Louise Buguet, and she +wanted to put her band on my head.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, let me rehearse as I am, first,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They began the second scene again, and I came in carrying a +long branch of willow.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Fear nothing, Tobias,” I commenced. “I will be your guide. +I will remove from your path all thorns and stones. You are +overwhelmed with fatigue. Lie down and rest, for I will watch +over you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Whereupon Tobias, worn out, lay down by the side of a strip +of blue muslin, about five yards of which, stretched out and +winding about, represented the Tigris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then continued with a prayer to God whilst Tobias fell +asleep. César next appeared as the Monster Fish, and the audience +trembled with fear. César had been well taught by the gardener, +Père Larcher, and he advanced slowly from under the blue muslin. +He was wearing his mask, representing the head of a fish. Two +enormous nut-shells for his eyes had been painted white, and a +hole pierced through them, so that the dog could see. The +mask was fastened with wire to his collar, which also supported +<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>two gills as large as palm leaves. César, sniffing the ground, +snorted and growled, and then leaped wildly on to Tobias, who +with his cudgel slew the monster at one blow. The dog fell on +his back with his four paws in the air, and then rolled over on +to his side, pretending to be dead.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was wild delight in the house, and the audience +clapped and stamped. The younger pupils stood up on their +stools and shouted, “Good César! Clever César! Oh, good +dog, good dog!” The sisters, touched by the efforts of the +guardian of the convent, shook their heads with emotion. +As for me, I quite forgot that I was the Angel Raphael, and I +stooped down and stroked César affectionately. “Ah, how well +he has acted his part!” I said, kissing him and taking one paw +and then the other in my hand, whilst the dog, motionless, +continued to be dead.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The little bell was rung to call us to order. I stood up again, +and, accompanied by the piano, we burst into a hymn of praise, +a duet to the glory of God, who had just saved Tobias from +the fearful monster.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After this the little green serge curtain was drawn, and I +was surrounded, petted, and praised. Mother St. Sophie came +up on to the platform and kissed me affectionately. As to +Louise Buguet, she was now joyful again and her angelic face +beamed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, how well you knew the part!” she said. “And then, too, +every one can hear what you say. Oh, thank you so much!” +She kissed me and I hugged her with all my might. At last I +was in it!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The third scene began. The action took place in Father +Tobit’s house. Gabael, the Angel, and young Tobias were holding +the entrails of the fish in their hands and looking at them. +The Angel explained how they must be used for rubbing +the blind father’s eyes. I felt rather sick, for I was holding in +my hand a skate’s liver and the heart and gizzard of a fowl. +I had never touched such things before, and every now +and then the nausea overcame me and the tears rose to my +eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally the blind father came in, led by Tobias’s sister. +Gabael knelt down before the old man and gave him the ten +silver talents, telling him, in a long recital, of Tobias’s exploits in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>Medea. After this Tobias advanced, embraced his father, and +then rubbed his eyes with the skate’s liver.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Eugénie Charmel made a grimace, but after wiping her eyes +she exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I can see, I can see. Oh! God of goodness, God of mercy! +I can see, I can see!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She came forward with outstretched arms, her eyes open, in +an ecstatic attitude, and the whole little assembly, so +simple-minded and loving, wept.</p> + +<p class='c013'>All the actors except old Tobit and the Angel sank on their +knees and gave praise to God, and at the close of this thanksgiving +the public, moved by religious sentiment and discipline +repeated, Amen!</p> + +<p class='c013'>Tobias’s mother then approached the Angel and said, “Oh, +noble stranger, take up your abode from henceforth with us. +You shall be our guest, our son, our brother!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I advanced, and in a long speech of at least thirty lines +made known that I was the messenger of God, that I was the +Angel Raphael. I then gathered up quickly the pale blue +tarlatan, which was being concealed for a final effect, and veiled +myself in cloudy tissue which was intended to simulate my +flight heavenwards. The little green serge curtain was then +closed on this apotheosis.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally the solemn day arrived.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was so feverish with expectation that I could not sleep the +last three nights.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The dressing bell was rung for us earlier than usual, but +I was already up and trying to smooth my rebellious hair, +which I brushed with a wet brush by way of making it behave +better.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Monseigneur was to arrive at eleven o’clock in the morning. +We therefore lunched at ten, and were then drawn up in the +principal courtyard. Only Mother St. Alexis, the eldest of the +nuns, was in front, and Mother St. Sophie just behind her. The +chaplain was a little distance away from the two Superiors. +Then came the other nuns, and behind them the girls, and then +all the little children. The lay sisters and the servants were +also there. We were all dressed in white, with the respective +colours of our various classes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The bell rang out a peal. The large carriage entered the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>first courtyard. The gate of the principal courtyard was then +opened, and Monseigneur appeared on the carriage steps which +the footman lowered for him. Mother St. Alexis advanced and, +bending down, kissed the episcopal ring. Mother St. Sophie, the +Superior, who was younger, knelt down to kiss the ring. The +signal was then given to us, and we all knelt to receive the +benediction of Monseigneur. When we looked up again the big +gate was closed, and Monseigneur had disappeared, conducted +by the Mother Superior. Mother St. Alexis was exhausted, and +went back to her cell.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In obedience to the signal given we all rose from our knees. +We then went to the chapel, where a short Mass was celebrated, +after which we had an hour’s recreation. The concert was to +commence at half-past one. The recreation hour was devoted +to preparing the large room and to getting ready to appear +before Monseigneur. I wore the angel’s long robe, with a blue +sash round my waist and two paper wings fastened on with +narrow blue straps that crossed over each other in front. +Round my head was a band of gold braid fastening behind. I +kept mumbling my “part,” for in those days we did not know +the word <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>. People are more familiar with the stage nowadays, +but at the convent we always said “part,” and years +afterwards I was surprised, the first time I played in England, +to hear a young English girl say, “Oh, what a fine part you +had in <cite>Hernani</cite>!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The room looked beautiful, oh, so beautiful! There were +festoons of green leaves, with paper flowers at intervals, everywhere. +Then there were little lustres hung about with gold +cord. A wide piece of red velvet carpet was laid down from +the door to Monseigneur’s arm-chair, upon which were two +cushions of red velvet with gold fringe.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thought all these horrors very fine, very beautiful!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The concert began, and it seemed to me that everything went +very well. Monseigneur, however, could not help smiling at the +sight of César, and it was he who led the applause when the dog +died. It was César, in fact, who made the greatest success, but +we were nevertheless sent for to appear before Monseigneur +Sibour. He was certainly the kindest and most charming of +prelates, and on this occasion he gave to each of us a consecrated +medal.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>When my turn came he took my hand in his and said, “It is +you, my child, who are not baptized, is it not?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Reverend Father, yes, Monseigneur,” I replied in +confusion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She is to be baptized this spring,” said the Mother Superior. +“Her father is coming back specially from a very distant +country.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She and Monseigneur then said a few words to each other in +a very low voice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very well; if I can, I will come again for the ceremony,” said +the Archbishop aloud. I was trembling with emotion and +pride as I kissed the old man’s ring. I then ran away to the +dormitory and cried for a long time. I was found there later +on, fast asleep from exhaustion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>From that day forth I was a better child, more studious and +less violent. In my fits of anger I was calmed by the mention +of Monseigneur Sibour’s name, and reminded of his promise to +come for my baptism.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Alas! I was not destined to have that great joy. One morning +in January, when we were all assembled in the chapel for Mass, +I was surprised and had a foreboding of coming evil as I saw +the Abbé Lethurgi go up into the pulpit before commencing the +Mass. He was very pale, and I turned instinctively to look at the +Mother Superior. She was seated in her regular place. The +almoner then began, in a voice broken with emotion, to tell us +of the murder of Monseigneur Sibour.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Murdered! A thrill of horror went through us, and a hundred +stifled cries, forming one great sob, drowned for an instant +the priest’s voice. Murdered! The word seemed to sting me +personally even more than the others. Had I not been, for one +instant, the favourite of the kind old man? It was as though the +murderer, Verger, had struck at me too, in my grateful love for +the prelate, in my little fame, of which he had now robbed me. +I burst into sobs, and the organ, accompanying the prayer for +the dead, increased my grief, which became so intense that I +fainted. It was from this moment that I was taken with an +ardent love for mysticism. It was fortified by the religious +exercises, the dramatic effect of our worship, and the gentle +encouragement, both fervent and sincere, of those who were +educating me. They were very fond of me, and I adored them, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>so that even now the very memory of them, fascinating and +restful as it is, thrills me with affection.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The time appointed for my baptism drew near, and I grew +more and more excitable. My nervous attacks were more and +more frequent—fits of tears for no reason at all, and fits of +terror without any cause. Everything seemed to take strange +proportions as far as I was concerned. One day one of my +little friends dropped a doll that I had lent her (for I played +with dolls until I was over thirteen). I began to tremble all +over, as I adored that doll, which had been given to me by my +father.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You have broken my doll’s head, you naughty girl!” +I exclaimed. “You have hurt my father!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I would not eat anything afterwards, and in the night I woke +up in a great perspiration, with haggard eyes, sobbing, “Papa +is dead! Papa is dead!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Three days later my mother came. She asked to see me +in the parlour, and, making me stand in front of her, she said, +“My poor little girl, I have something to tell you that will +cause you great sorrow. Papa is dead.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I know,” I said, “I know”; and the expression in my eyes, +my mother frequently told me afterwards, was such that she +trembled a long time for my reason.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was very sad and not at all well. I refused to learn +anything, except catechism and scripture, and I wanted to be +a nun.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother had succeeded in arranging that my two sisters +should be baptized with me—Jeanne, who was then six years +old, and Régina, who was not three, but who had been taken +as a boarder at the convent with the idea that her presence +might cheer me up a little.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was isolated for a week before my baptism and for a week +afterwards, as I was to be confirmed one week after the +event.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother, Aunt Rosine Berendt and Aunt Henriette +Faure, my godfather Régis, Monsieur Meydieu, Jeanne’s +godfather, and General Polhes, Régina’s godfather, the godmothers +of my two sisters and my various cousins, all came, +and revolutionised the convent. My mother and my aunts +were in fashionable mourning attire. Aunt Rosine had put +<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>a spray of lilac in her bonnet, “to enliven her mourning,” as +she said. It was a strange expression, but I have certainly +heard it since used by other people besides her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had never before felt so far away from all these people +who had come there on my account. I adored my mother, but +with a touching and fervent desire to leave her, never to see +her again, to sacrifice her to God. As to the others, I did not +see them. I was very grave and rather moody. A short time +previously a nun had taken the veil at the convent, and I could +think of nothing else.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This baptismal ceremony was the prelude to my dream. +I could see myself like the novice who had just been admitted +as a nun. I pictured myself lying down on the ground covered +over with the heavy black cloth with its white cross, and four +massive candlesticks placed at the four corners of the cloth, and +I planned to die under this cloth. How I was to do this I do +not know. I did not think of killing myself, as I knew that +would be a crime. But I made up my mind to die like this, +and my ideas galloped along, so that I saw in my imagination +the horror of the sisters and heard the cries of the pupils, and +was delighted at the emotion which I had caused.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After the baptismal ceremony my mother wished to take me +away with her. She had rented a small house with a garden +in the Boulevard de la Reine, at Versailles, for my holidays, and +she had decorated it with flowers for this <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> day, as she wanted +to celebrate the baptism of her three children. She was very +gently told that, as I was to be confirmed in a week’s time, +I was now to be isolated until then. My mother cried, and +I can remember now, to my sorrow, that it did not make me +sad to see her tears, but quite the contrary.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When every one had gone and I went into the little cell in +which I had been living for the last week and wherein I was to +live for another week, I fell on my knees in a state of exaltation +and offered up to God my mother’s sorrow. “You saw, +O Lord God, that mamma cried, and that it did not affect +me!” Poor child that I was, I imagined in my wild exaggeration +of everything that what was expected from me was the +renunciation of all affection, devotion, and pity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day Mother St. Sophie lectured me gently +about my wrong comprehension of religious duties, and she told +<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>me that when once I was confirmed she should give me a +fortnight’s holiday, to go and make my mother forget her +sorrow and disappointment.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My confirmation took place with the same pompous +ceremonial. All the pupils, dressed in white, carried wax +tapers. For the whole week I had refused to eat. I was pale +and had grown thinner, and my eyes looked larger from my +perpetual transports, for I went to extremes in everything.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Baron Larrey, who came with my mother to my confirmation, +asked for a month’s holiday for me to recruit, and this was +granted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Accordingly we started, my mother, Madame Guérard, her son +Ernest, my sister Jeanne, and I, for Cauterets in the Pyrénées.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The movement, the packing of the trunks, parcels, and +packages, the railway, the diligence, the scenery, the crowds +and the general disturbance cured me of my nerves and my +mysticism. I clapped my hands, laughed aloud, flung myself +on mamma and nearly stifled her with kisses. I sang hymns at +the top of my voice; I was hungry and thirsty, so I ate, drank, +and in a word, lived.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span> + <h2 class='c008'>V<br> <span class='large'>THE SOLDIER’S SHAKO</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Cauterets at that time was not what it is now. It was an +abominable but charming little hole of a place, with plenty of +verdure, very few houses, and a great many huts belonging to +the mountain people. There were plenty of donkeys to be +hired, that took us up the mountains by extraordinary paths.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I adore the sea and the plain, but I neither care for mountains +nor for forests. Mountains seem to crush me and forests to +stifle me. I must, at any cost, have the horizon stretching out +as far as the eye can see and skies to dream about.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I wanted to go up the mountains, so that they should lose +their crushing effect. And consequently we went up always +higher and higher.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma used to stay at home with her sweet friend, Madame +Guérard. She used to read novels whilst Madame Guérard embroidered. +They would sit there together without speaking, +each dreaming her own dream, seeing it fade away, and beginning +it over again. The old servant, Marguerite, was the only +domestic mamma had brought with her, and she used to accompany +us. Gay and daring, she always knew how to make the +men laugh with her prattle, the sense and crudeness of which I did +not understand until much later. She was the life of the party +always. As she had been with us from the time we were born, +she was very familiar, and sometimes objectionably so; but I +would not let her have her own way with me, though, and I +used to answer her back in most cutting fashion. She took her +revenge in the evening by giving us a dish of sweets for dinner +that I did not like.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began to look better for the change, and although still very +religious, my mysticism was growing calmer. As I could not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>exist, however, without a passion of some kind, I began to get +very fond of goats, and I asked mamma quite seriously whether +I might become a goat-herd.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I would rather you were that than a nun,” she replied; and +then she added, “We will talk about it later on.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Every day I brought down with me from the mountain another +little kid. We had seven of them, when my mother interfered +and put a stop to my zeal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally, it was time to return to the convent. My holiday +was over, and I was quite well again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was to go back to work once more. I accepted the situation +willingly, to the great surprise of mamma, who loved +travelling, but detested the actual moving from one place to +another.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was delighted at the idea of the re-packing of the parcels +and trunks, of being seated in things that moved along, of seeing +again all the villages, towns, people, and trees, which changed +all the time. I wanted to take my goats with me, but my +mother nearly had a fit.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are mad!” she exclaimed. “Seven goats in a train and +in a carriage! Where could you put them? No, a hundred +times no!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She finally consented to my taking two of them and a blackbird +that one of the mountaineers had given me. And so we returned +to the convent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was received there with such sincere joy that I felt very happy +again immediately. I was allowed to keep my two goats there, +and to have them out at playtime. We had great fun with +them: they used to butt us and we used to butt them, and we +laughed, frolicked, and were very foolish. And yet I was nearly +fourteen at this time; but I was very puny and childish.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stayed at the convent another ten months without learning +anything more. The idea of becoming a nun always haunted +me, but I was no longer mystic.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My godfather looked upon me as the greatest dunce of a child. +I worked, though, during the holidays, and I used to have +lessons with Sophie Croizette, who lived near to our country +house. This gave a slight impetus to me in my studies, but it +was only slight. Sophie was very gay, and what we liked best +was to go to the museum, where her sister Pauline, who was later +<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>on to become Madame Carolus Duran, was copying pictures by +the great masters.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Pauline was as cold and calm as Sophie was charming, +talkative, and noisy. Pauline Croizette was beautiful, but I +liked Sophie better—she was more gracious and pretty. Madame +Croizette, their mother, always seemed sad and resigned. She +had given up her career very early. She had been a dancer at +the opera in St. Petersburg, and had been very much adored and +flattered and spoiled. I fancy it was the birth of Sophie that +had compelled her to leave the stage. Her money had then been +injudiciously invested, and she had been ruined. She was very +distinguished-looking; her face had a kind expression; there was +an infinite melancholy about her, and people were instinctively +drawn towards her. Mamma and she had made each other’s +acquaintance while listening to the music in the park at Versailles, +and for some time we saw a great deal of one another.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sophie and I had some fine games in that magnificent park. +Our greatest joy, though, was to go to Madame Masson’s in the +Rue de la Gare. Madame Masson had a curiosity shop. Her +daughter Cécile was a perfect little beauty. We three used to +delight in changing the tickets on the vases, snuff-boxes, fans, and +jewels, and then when poor M. Masson came back with a rich +customer—for Masson the antiquary enjoyed a world-wide +reputation—Sophie and I used to hide so that we should see his +fury. Cécile, with an innocent air, would be helping her mother, +and glancing slyly at us from time to time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The whirl of life separated me brusquely from all these people +whom I loved, and an incident, trivial in itself, caused me to +leave the convent earlier than my mother wished.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was a <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> day, and we had two hours for recreation. We +were marching in procession along the wall which skirts the +railway on the left bank of the Seine, and as we were burying +my pet lizard we were chanting the “De Profundis.” About +twenty of my little playfellows were following me, when suddenly +a soldier’s shako fell at my feet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What’s that?” called out one of the girls.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“A soldier’s shako.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Did it come from over the wall?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, yes. Listen. There’s a quarrel going on!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were suddenly silent, listening with all our ears.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>“Don’t be stupid! It’s idiotic! It’s the Grand-Champs +Convent!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“How am I to get my shako back?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>These were the words we overheard, and then, as a soldier +suddenly appeared astride on our wall, there were shrieks from +the terrified children and angry exclamations from the nuns. +In a second we were all about twenty yards away from the +wall, like a group of frightened sparrows flying off to land a +little farther away, inquisitive, and very much on the alert.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Have you seen my shako, young ladies?” called out the +unfortunate soldier, in a beseeching tone.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no!” I cried, hiding it behind my back.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no!” echoed the other girls, with peals of laughter, and +in the most tormenting, insolent, jeering way we continued +shouting “No, no!” running backwards all the time in obedience +to the sisters, who, veiled and hidden behind the trees, were in +despair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were only a few yards from the huge gymnasium. I +climbed up breathless at full speed, and reached the wide plank +at the top; when there I unfastened the rope ladder, but, as I +could not raise the wooden ladder, by which I had ascended, +up to me, I unfastened the rings. The wooden ladder fell +and broke, making a great noise. I then stood up wickedly +triumphant on the plank, calling out, “Here is your shako, +but you won’t get it now!” I put it on my head and walked +up and down, as no one could get to me there, for I had +pulled up the rope ladder. I suppose my first idea had just +been to have a little fun, but the girls had laughed and +clapped, and my strength had held out better than I had hoped, +so that my head was turned, and nothing could stop me then.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The young soldier was furious. He jumped down from the +wall and rushed in my direction, pushing the girls out of his +way. The sisters, beside themselves, ran to the house calling +for help. The chaplain, the Mother Superior, Father Larcher, +and every one else came running out. I believe the soldier +swore like a trooper, and it was really quite excusable. Mother +St. Sophie from below besought me to come down and to +give up the shako.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The soldier tried to get up to me by means of the trapeze +and the gymnasium rope.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>His useless efforts delighted all the pupils, whom the sisters +had in vain tried to send away. Finally the sister who was +door-keeper sounded the alarm bell, and five minutes later the +soldiers from the Satory barracks arrived, thinking that a fire +had broken out. When the officer in command was told what +was the matter, he sent back his men and asked to see the +Mother Superior. He was brought to Mother St. Sophie, +whom he found under the gymnasium, crying with shame and +impotence. He ordered the soldier to return immediately to +the barracks. He obeyed after clenching his fist at me, but on +looking up he could not help laughing. His shako came down +to my eyes, and was only prevented by my ears, which were +bent over, from covering my face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was furious and wildly excited with the turn my joke had +taken.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There it is, your shako!” I called out, and I flung it +violently over the wall which skirted the gymnasium and +formed the boundary to the cemetery.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, the young plague!” muttered the officer, and then, +apologising to the nuns, he saluted them and went away, +accompanied by Father Larcher.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As for me, I felt like a fox with its tail cut.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I refused to come down immediately.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I shall come down when every one has gone away,” I +exclaimed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>All the classes received punishments.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was left alone. The sun had set. The silence in the +cemetery terrified me. The dark trees took mournful or +threatening shapes. The moisture from the wood fell like a +mantle over my shoulders, and seemed to get heavier every +moment. I felt abandoned by every one, and I began to cry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was angry with myself, with the soldier, with Mother +St. Sophie, with the pupils who had excited me by their +laughter, with the officer who had humiliated me, and with the +sister who had sounded the alarm bell.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then I began to think about getting down the rope ladder +which I had pulled up on to the plank. Very clumsily, +trembling with fear at the least sound, listening eagerly all the +time, and with eyes looking to the right and left, I was an +enormous time, and was very much afraid of unhooking the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>rings. Finally I managed to unroll it, and I was just about to +put my foot on the first step when the barking of César +alarmed me. He was tearing along from the wood. The +sight of the dark shadow on the gymnasium appeared to the +faithful dog to bode no good. He was furious, and began to +scratch the thick wooden posts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why, César, don’t you know your friend?” I said very +gently. He growled in reply, and in a louder voice I said, +“Fie, César, bad César; you ought to be ashamed! Fancy +barking at your friend!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He now began to howl, and I was seized with terror. I +pulled the ladder up again, and sat down at the top. César lay +down under the gymnasium, his tail straight out, his ears pricked +up, his coat bristling, growling in a sullen way. I appealed to +the Holy Virgin to help me. I prayed fervently, vowed to say +three supplementary <em>Aves</em>, three <em>Credos</em>, and three <em>Paters</em> every +day.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I was a little calmer I called out in a subdued voice, +“César! my dear César, my beautiful César! You know I +am the Angel Raphael!” Ah, much César cared for him. +He considered my presence, alone, at so late an hour in the +garden and on the gymnasium quite incomprehensible. Why +was I not in the refectory? Poor César, he went on growling, +and I was getting very hungry, and began to think things were +most unjust. It was true that I had been to blame for taking +the soldier’s shako, but after all, he had commenced. Why had +he thrown his shako over the wall? My imagination now came +to my aid, and in the end I began to look upon myself as +a martyr. I had been left to the dog, and he would eat me. I +was terrified at the dead people behind me, and every one knew +I was very nervous. My chest too was delicate, and there I was, +exposed to the biting cold with no protection whatever. I +began to think about Mother St. Sophie, who evidently no +longer cared for me, as she was deserting me so cruelly. I lay +with my face downwards on the plank, and gave myself up to +the wildest despair, calling my mother, my father, and Mother +St. Sophie, sobbing, wishing I could die there and then—— Between +my sobs I suddenly heard my name pronounced by a +voice. I got up, and, peering through the gloom, caught a +glimpse of my beloved Mother St. Sophie. She was there, the dear +<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>saint, and had never left her rebellious child. Concealed behind +the statue of St. Augustine, she had been praying whilst awaiting +the end of this crisis, which in her simplicity she had +believed might prove fatal to my reason and perhaps to my +salvation. She had sent every one away and remained there +alone, and she too had not dined. I came down and threw +myself, repentant and wretched, into her motherly arms. She +did not say a word to me about the horrible incident, but took +me quickly back to the convent. I was all damp with the icy +evening dew, my cheeks were feverish, and my hands and feet +frozen.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had an attack of pleurisy after this, and was twenty-three +days between life and death. Mother St. Sophie never left +me an instant. The sweet Mother blamed herself for my +illness, declaring as she beat her breast that she had left me +outside too long.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s my fault! It’s my fault!” she kept exclaiming.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt Faure came to see me nearly every day. My mother +was in Scotland, and came back by short stages. My aunt Rosine +was at Baden-Baden, ruining the whole family with a new +“system.” “I am coming. I am coming,” she kept saying, when +she wrote to ask how I was. Dr. Despagne and Dr. Monod, +who had been called in for a consultation, did not think there was +any hope. Baron Larrey, who was very fond of me, came often. +He had a certain influence over me, and I willingly obeyed him. +My mother arrived a short time before my convalescence, and +did not leave me again. As soon as I could be moved she +took me to Paris, promising to send me back to the convent +when I was quite well.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was for ever, though, that I had left my dear convent, but +it was not for ever that I left Mother St. Sophie. I seemed +to take something of her away with me. For a long time +she was part of my life, and even to-day, when she has +been dead for years, she haunts my mind, bringing back to +me the simple thoughts of former days and making the simple +flowers of yore bloom again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Life for me then commenced in earnest.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The cloister life is a life for every one. There may be +a hundred or a thousand individuals there, but every one lives a +life which is the same and the only life for all. The rumour of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>the outside world dies away at the heavy cloister gate. The +sole ambition is to sing more loudly than the others at vespers, +to take a little more of the form, to be at the end of the table, +to be on the list of honour. When I was told that I was not +to go back to the convent, it was to me as though I was to +be thrown into the sea when I could not swim.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I besought my godfather to let me go back to the convent. +The dowry left to me by my father was ample enough for the +dowry of a nun. I wanted to take the veil. “Very well,” +replied my godfather; “you can take the veil in two years’ +time, but not before. In the meantime learn all that you do +not yet know (and that means everything) from the governess +your mother has chosen for you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>That very day an elderly unmarried lady, with soft, grey, +gentle eyes, came and took possession of my life, my mind, +and my conscience for eight hours every day. Her name was +Mlle. de Brabender, and she had educated a grand duchess +in Russia. She had a sweet voice, an enormous sandy +moustache, a grotesque nose, but a way of walking, of expressing +herself, and of bowing which simply commanded deference. +She lived at the convent in the Rue Notre Dame des Champs, +and this was why, in spite of my mother’s entreaties, she refused +to come and remain with us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She soon won my affection, and I learnt quite easily +with her everything that she wanted me to learn. I worked +eagerly, for my dream was to return to the convent, not as +a pupil, but as a teaching sister.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span> + <h2 class='c008'>VI<br> <span class='large'>THE FAMILY COUNCIL AND MY FIRST VISIT TO A THEATRE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>I arose one September morning, my heart leaping with some +remote joy. It was eight o’clock. I pressed my forehead against +the window-panes and gazed out, looking at I know not what. I +had been roused with a start in the midst of some fine dream, +and I had rushed towards the light in the hope of finding in the +infinite space of the grey sky the luminous point that would +explain my anxious and blissful expectation. Expectation of +what? I could not have answered that question then, any more +than I can now after much reflection. I was on the eve of my +fifteenth birthday, and I was in a state of expectation as to the +future of my life. That particular morning seemed to me to +be the precursor of a new era. I was not mistaken, for on that +September day my fate was settled for me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Hypnotised by what was taking place in my mind, I remained +with my forehead pressed against the window-pane, gazing +through the halo of vapour formed by my breath at houses, +palaces, carriages, jewels, and pearls passing along in front of +me—oh, what a number of pearls there were! There were +princes and kings, too; yes, I could even see kings! Oh! how +fast one’s imagination travels, and its enemy, reason, always +allows it to roam on alone. In my fancy I proudly rejected the +princes, I rejected the kings, refused the pearls and the palaces, +and declared that I was going to be a nun, for in the infinite +grey sky I had caught a glimpse of the convent of Grand-Champs, +of my white bedroom, and of the small lamp that +swung to and fro above the little Virgin all decorated with +flowers by us. The king offered me a throne, but I preferred +the throne of our Mother Superior, and I entertained a vague +<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>ambition to occupy it some far-off day in the distant future; the +king was heart-broken and dying of despair. Yes, <i><span lang="fr">mon Dieu!</span></i> +I preferred to the pearls that were offered me by princes the +pearls of the rosary I was telling with my fingers; and no +costume could compete in my mind with the black barège veil +that fell like a soft shadow over the snowy-white cambric that +encircled the beloved faces of the nuns of Grand-Champs. I do +not know how long I had been dreaming thus when I heard my +mother’s voice asking our old servant Marguerite if I were +awake. With one bound I was back in bed, and I buried my +face under the sheet. Mamma half opened the door very gently, +and I pretended to wake up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“How lazy you are to-day!” she said. I kissed her, and +answered in a coaxing tone, “It is Thursday, and I have no +music lesson.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And are you glad?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes,” I replied promptly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother frowned; she adored music, and I hated the piano. +She was so fond of music that although she was then nearly +thirty, she took lessons herself in order to encourage me to +practise. What horrible torture it was! I used, very wickedly, +to do my utmost to set my mother and my music mistress at +variance. They were both of them as short-sighted as possible. +When my mother had practised a new piece three or four days, +she knew it by heart and played it fairly well, to the astonishment +of Mlle. Clarisse, my insufferable old teacher, who held +the music in her hand and read every note with her nose nearly +touching the page. One day I heard, with joy, a quarrel +beginning between mamma and this disagreeable Mlle. Clarisse.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There, that’s a quaver!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, there’s no quaver!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“This is a flat!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, you forget the sharp! How absurd you are, Mademoiselle!” +added my mother, perfectly furious.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few minutes later my mother went to her room, and Mlle. +Clarisse departed, muttering as she left.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As for me, I was choking with laughter in my bedroom, for +one of my cousins, who was a good musician, had helped me to +add sharps, flats, and quavers, and we had done it with such care +that even a trained eye would have had difficulty in discerning +<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>the fraud immediately. As Mlle. Clarisse had been sent off, I +had no lesson that day. Mamma gazed at me a long time with +her mysterious eyes, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in +my life, and then she said, speaking very slowly:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“After luncheon there is to be a family council.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt myself turning pale.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“All right,” I answered. “What frock am I to put on, +Mamma?” I said this merely for the sake of saying something, +and to keep myself from crying.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Put your blue silk on; you look more staid in that.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Just at this moment my sister Jeanne opened the door boisterously, +and with a burst of laughter jumped on to my bed and, +slipping under the sheets, called out, “I’m there!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Marguerite had followed her into the room, panting and +scolding. The child had escaped from her just as she was about +to bathe her, and had announced, “I’m going into my sister’s +bed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jeanne’s mirth at this moment, which I felt was a very serious +one for me, made me burst out crying and sobbing. My mother, +not understanding the reason of this grief, shrugged her shoulders, +told Marguerite to fetch Jeanne’s slippers, and taking the +little bare feet in her hands, kissed them tenderly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sobbed more bitterly than ever. It was very evident that +mamma loved my sister more than me, and this preference, +which did not trouble me in an ordinary way, hurt me sorely now.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma went away quite out of patience with me. I fell +asleep in order to forget, and was roused by Marguerite, who +helped me to dress, as otherwise I should have been late for +luncheon. The guests that day were Aunt Rosine, Mlle. de +Brabender, my governess (a charming creature, whom I have +always regretted), my godfather, and the Duc de Morny, a +great friend of my godfather and of my mother. The luncheon +was a mournful meal for me, as I was thinking all the time +about the family council. Mlle. de Brabender, in her gentle +way and with her affectionate words, insisted on my eating. +My sister burst out laughing when she looked at me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Your eyes are as little as that,” she said, putting her small +thumb on the tip of her forefinger; “and it serves you right, +because you’ve been crying, and Mamma doesn’t like any one to +cry. Do you, Mamma?”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>“What have you been crying about?” asked the Duc de +Morny. I did not answer, in spite of the friendly nudge Mlle. +de Brabender gave me with her sharp elbow. The Duc de +Morny always awed me a little. He was gentle and kind, but +he was a great quiz. I knew, too, that he occupied a high place +at court, and that my family considered his friendship a great +honour.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Because I told her that after luncheon there was to be a +family council on her behalf,” said my mother, speaking slowly. +“At times it seems to me that she is quite idiotic. She quite +disheartens me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come, come,” exclaimed my godfather, and Aunt Rosine +said something in English to the Duc de Morny which made +him smile shrewdly under his thin moustache. Mlle. de Brabender +scolded me in a low voice, and her scoldings were like words +from heaven. When at last luncheon was over, mamma told +me, as she passed, to pour out the coffee. Marguerite helped me +to arrange the cups, and I went into the drawing-room. Maître +C——, the notary from Hâvre, whom I detested, was already +there. He represented the family of my father, who had died at +Pisa in a way which had never been explained, but which seemed +mysterious. My childish hatred was instinctive, and I learnt +later on that this man had been my father’s bitter enemy. He +was very, very ugly, this notary; his whole face seemed to have +moved up higher. It was as though he had been hanging by +his hair for a long time, and his eyes, his mouth, his cheeks, and +his nose had got into the habit of trying to reach the back of +his head. He ought to have had a joyful expression, as so many +of his features turned up, but instead of this his face was smooth +and sinister-looking. He had red hair planted in his head like +couch grass, and on his nose he wore a pair of gold-rimmed +spectacles. Oh, the horrible man! What a torturing nightmare +the very memory of him is, for he was the evil genius of +my father, and his hatred now pursued me. My poor grandmother, +since the death of my father, never went out, but spent +her time mourning the loss of her beloved son who had died so +young. She had absolute faith in this man, who besides was +the executor of my father’s will. He had the control of the +money that my dear father had left me. I was not to receive +it until the day of my marriage, but my mother was to use the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>interest for my education. My uncle, Félix Faure, was also +there. Seated near the fireplace, buried in an arm-chair, M. +Meydieu pulled out his watch in a querulous way. He was an +old friend of the family, and he always called me <i><span lang="fr">ma fil</span></i>, which +annoyed me greatly, as did his familiarity. He considered me +stupid, and when I handed him his coffee he said in a jeering +tone: “And it is for you, <i><span lang="fr">ma fil</span></i>, that so many honest people +have been hindered in their work. We have plenty of other +things to attend to, I can assure you, than to discuss the fate +of a little brat like you. Ah, if it had been her sister there +would have been no difficulty,” and with his benumbed fingers +he patted Jeanne’s head as she remained on the floor plaiting +the fringe of the sofa upon which he was seated.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the coffee had been drunk, the cups carried away and +my sister also, there was a short silence.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Duc de Morny rose to take his leave, but my mother +begged him to stay. “You will be able to advise us,” she +urged, and the Duc took his seat again near my aunt, with +whom it seemed to me he was carrying on a slight flirtation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma had moved nearer to the window, her embroidery +frame in front of her, and her beautiful clear-cut profile showing +to advantage against the light. She looked as though she had +nothing to do with what was about to be discussed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The hideous notary had risen.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My uncle had drawn me near to him. My godfather Régis +seemed to be the exact counterpart of M. Meydieu. They both +of them had the same <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> mind, and were equally stubborn +and obstinate. They were both devoted to whist and good +wine, and they both agreed that I was thin enough for a scarecrow. The door opened, and a pale, dark-haired woman entered, +a most poetical-looking and charming creature. It was Madame +Guérard, “the lady of the upstairs flat,” as Marguerite always +called her. My mother had made friends with her in rather a +patronising way certainly, but Madame Guérard was devoted +to me, and endured the little slights to which she was treated +very patiently for my sake. She was tall and slender as a lath, +very compliant and demure. She lived in the flat above, and +had come down without a hat; she was wearing an indoor gown +of indienne with a design of little brown leaves.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Meydieu muttered something, I did not catch what. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>abominable notary made a very curt bow to Madame Guérard. +The Duc de Morny was very gracious, for the new-comer was so +pretty. My godfather merely bent his head, as Madame Guérard +was nothing to him. Aunt Rosine glanced at her from head to +foot. Mlle. de Brabender shook hands cordially with her, for +Madame Guérard was fond of me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My uncle, Félix Faure, gave her a chair, and asked her to sit +down, and then inquired in a kindly way about her husband, a +<i><span lang="fr">savant</span></i>, with whom my uncle collaborated sometimes for his +book, “The Life of St. Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma had merely glanced across the room without raising +her head, for Madame Guérard did not prefer my sister to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, as we have come here on account of this child,” said +my godfather, looking at his watch, “we must begin and discuss +what is to be done with her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began to tremble, and drew closer to <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> (as +I had always called Madame Guérard from my infancy) and to +Mlle. de Brabender. They each took my hand by way of encouraging me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” continued M. Meydieu, with a laugh; “it appears you +want to be a nun.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, indeed,” said the Duc de Morny to Aunt Rosine.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Sh!” she retorted, with a laugh. Mamma sighed, and held +her wools up close to her eyes to match them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You have to be rich, though, to enter a convent,” grunted +the Hâvre notary, “and you have not a sou.” I leaned towards +Mlle. de Brabender and whispered, “I have the money that +papa left.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The horrid man overheard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Your father left some money to get you married,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, then, I’ll marry the <i><span lang="fr">bon Dieu</span></i>,” I answered, and my +voice was quite resolute now. I turned very red, and for the +second time in my life I felt a desire and a strong inclination to +fight for myself. I had no more fear, as every one had gone too +far and provoked me too much. I slipped away from my two +kind friends, and advanced towards the other group.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I will be a nun, I will!” I exclaimed. “I know that papa +left me some money so that I should be married, and I know +that the nuns marry the Saviour. Mamma says she does not +care, it is all the same to her, so that it won’t be vexing her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>at all, and they love me better at the convent than you do +here!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My dear child,” said my uncle, drawing me towards him, +“your religious vocation appears to me to be more a wish to +love——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And to be loved,” murmured Madame Guérard in a very +low voice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Every one glanced at mamma, who shrugged her shoulders +lightly. It seemed to me as though the glance they all gave +her was a reproachful one, and I felt a pang of remorse at once. +I went across to her, and, throwing my arms round her neck, +said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You don’t mind my being a nun, do you? It won’t make +you unhappy, will it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mamma stroked my hair, of which she was very proud.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, it would make me unhappy. You know very well that, +after your sister, I love you better than any one else in the +world.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She said this very slowly in a gentle voice. It was like the +sound of a little waterfall as it flows down, babbling and clear, +from the mountain, dragging with it the gravel, and gradually +increasing in volume with the thawed snow until it sweeps +along rocks and trees in its course. This was the effect my +mother’s clear drawling voice had upon me at that moment. I +rushed back impulsively to the others, who were all speechless at +this unexpected and spontaneous burst of eloquence. I went +from one to the other, explaining my decision, and giving reasons +which were certainly no reasons at all. I did my utmost to get +someone to support me in the matter. Finally the Duc de Morny +was bored, and rose to go.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you know what you ought to do with this child?” he said. +“You ought to send her to the Conservatoire.” +He then patted my cheek, kissed my aunt’s hand, and +bowed to all the others. As he bent over my mother’s hand I heard him say to her, +“You would have made a bad diplomatist; but follow my advice, +and send her to the Conservatoire.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He then took his departure, and I gazed at every one in +perfect anguish.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Conservatoire! What was it? What did it mean?</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went up to my governess, Mlle. de Brabender. Her lips +<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>were firmly pressed together, and she looked shocked, just as +she did sometimes when my godfather told some story that she +did not approve at table. My uncle, Félix Faure, was gazing +at the floor in an absent-minded way; the notary had a spiteful +look in his eyes, my aunt was holding forth in a very excited +manner, and M. Meydieu kept shaking his head and muttering, +“Perhaps—yes—who knows?—hum—hum!” Madame Guérard +was very pale and sad, and she looked at me with infinite +tenderness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>What could this Conservatoire be? The word uttered so +carelessly seemed to have entirely disturbed the equanimity of +all present. Each one of them seemed to me to have a different +impression about it, but none looked pleased. Suddenly in the +midst of the general embarrassment my godfather exclaimed +brutally:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She is too thin to make an actress.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I won’t be an actress!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You don’t know what an actress is,” said my aunt.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, I do. Rachel is an actress.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You know Rachel?” asked mamma, getting up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes; she came to the convent once to see little Adèle +Sarony. She went all over the convent and into the garden, +and she had to sit down because she could not get her breath. +They fetched her something to bring her round, and she was +so pale, oh, so pale. I was very sorry for her, and Sister +St. Appoline told me what she did was killing her, for she was +an actress; and so I won’t be an actress—I won’t!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had said all this in a breath, with my cheeks on fire and my +voice hard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remembered all that Sister St. Appoline had told me, and +Mother St. Sophie, too. I remembered also that when +Rachel had gone out of the garden, looking very pale, and +holding a lady’s arm for support, a little girl had put her +tongue out at her. I did not want people to put out their +tongues at me when I was grown up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Conservatoire! That word alarmed me. He wanted me to +be an actress, and he had now gone away, so that I could not talk +things over with him. He went away smiling and tranquil, after +caressing me in the usual friendly way. He had gone, caring +little about the scraggy child whose future had been discussed.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>“Send her to the Conservatoire!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And that sentence, uttered carelessly, had come like a bomb +into my life.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I, the dreamy child, who that morning was ready to repulse +princes and kings; I, whose trembling fingers had that morning +told over chaplets of dreams, who only a few hours ago had +felt my heart beating with emotion hitherto unknown to me; +I, who had got up expecting some great event to take place—was +to see everything disappear, thanks to that phrase as heavy +as lead and as deadly as a bullet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Send her to the Conservatoire!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And I divined that this phrase was to be the sign-post of my +life. All those people had gathered together at the turning +of the cross roads. “Send her to the Conservatoire!” I wanted +to be a nun, and this was considered absurd, idiotic, unreasonable. “Send her to the Conservatoire!” had opened out +a field for discussion, the horizon of a future. My uncle Félix +Faure and Mlle. Brabender were the only ones against this +idea. They tried in vain to make my mother understand that +with the 100,000 francs that my father had left me I might +marry. But mother replied that I had declared I had a horror +of marriage, and that I should wait until I was of age to go +into a convent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Under these conditions,” she said, “Sarah will never have +her father’s money.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, certainly not,” put in the notary.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Then,” continued my mother, “she would enter the convent +as a servant, and I will not have that! My money is an annuity, +so that I cannot leave anything to my children. I therefore +want them to have a career of their own.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother was now exhausted with so much talking, and lay +back in an arm-chair. I got very much excited, and my mother +asked me to go away.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. de Brabender and Madame Guérard were arguing +in a low voice, and I thought of the aristocratic man who had +just left us. I was very angry with him, for this idea of the Conservatoire was his.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. de Brabender tried to console me. Madame Guérard +said that this career had its advantages. Mlle. de Brabender +considered that the convent would have a great fascination for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>so dreamy a nature as mine. The latter was very religious and +a great church-goer, <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> was a pagan in the +purest acceptation of that word, and yet the two women got +on very well together, thanks to their affectionate devotion +to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Guérard adored the proud rebelliousness of my +nature, my pretty face, and the slenderness of my figure; Mlle. +de Brabender was touched by my delicate health. She +endeavoured to comfort me when I was jealous at not being +loved as much as my sister, but what she liked best about me +was my voice. She always declared that my voice was +modulated for prayers, and my delight in the convent appeared +to her quite natural. She loved me with a gentle pious affection, +and Madame Guérard loved me with bursts of paganism. +These two women, whose memory is still dear to me, shared me +between them, and made the best of my good qualities and +my faults. I certainly owe to both of them this study of +myself and the vision I have of myself.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The day was destined to end in the strangest of fashions. +Madame Guérard had gone back to her apartment upstairs, +and I was lying back on a little cane arm-chair which was the +most ornamental piece of furniture in my room. I felt very +drowsy, and was holding Mlle. de Brabender’s hand in mine, +when the door opened and my aunt entered, followed by my +mother. I can see them now, my aunt in her dress of puce +silk trimmed with fur, her brown velvet hat tied under her +chin with long, wide strings, and mamma, who had taken +off her dress and put on a white woollen dressing-gown. She +always detested keeping on her dress in the house, and I +understood by her change of costume that every one had gone +and that my aunt was ready to leave. I got up from my arm-chair, but mamma made me sit down again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Rest yourself thoroughly,” she said, “for we are going to +take you to the theatre this evening, to the Français.” I felt +sure that this was just a bait, and I would not show any sign of +pleasure, although in my heart I was delighted at the idea +of going to the Français. The only theatre I knew anything of +was the Robert Houdin, to which I was taken sometimes with +my sister, and I fancy that it was for her benefit we went, as +I was really too old to care for that kind of performance.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>“Will you come with us?” mamma said, turning to Mlle. +de Brabender.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Willingly, Madame,” replied this dear creature. “I will +go home and change my dress.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt laughed at my sullen looks.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Little fraud,” she said, as she went away; “you are hiding +your delight. Ah well, you will see some actresses to-night.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Is Rachel going to act?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no; she is ill.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt kissed me and went away, saying she should see me +again later on, and my mother followed her out of the room. +Mlle. de Brabender then hurriedly prepared to leave me. She +had to go home to dress and to say that she would not be +in until quite late, for in her convent special permission had to +be obtained when one wished to be out later than ten at night. +When I was alone I swung myself backwards and forwards in +my arm-chair, which, by the way, was anything but a rocking-chair. I began to think, and for the first time in my life +my critical comprehension came to my aid. And so all these +serious people had been inconvenienced, the notary fetched from +Hâvre, my uncle dragged away from working at his book, the +old bachelor M. Meydieu disturbed in his habits and customs, +my godfather kept away from the Stock Exchange, and that +aristocratic and sceptical Duc de Morny cramped up for +two hours in the midst of our <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> surroundings, and +all to end in this decision, <em>She shall be taken to the theatre.</em> +I do not know what part my uncle had played in this burlesque +plan, but I doubt whether it was to his taste. All the same, +I was glad to go to the theatre; it made me feel more important. +That morning on waking up I was quite a child, and now +events had taken place which had transformed me into a young +girl. I had been discussed by every one, and I had expressed +my wishes, without any result, certainly, but all the same I had +expressed them, and now it was deemed necessary to humour +and indulge me in order to win me over. They could not force +me into agreeing to what they wanted me to do. My consent +was necessary, and I felt so joyful and so proud about it that I +was quite touched and almost ready to yield. I said to myself +that it would be better to hold my own and let them ask +me again.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>After dinner we all squeezed into a cab, mamma, my godfather, +Mlle. de Brabender, and I. My godfather made me a +present of some white gloves.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On mounting the steps at the Théâtre Français I trod on +a lady’s dress. She turned round and called me a “stupid +child.” I moved back hastily, and came into collision with +a very stout old gentleman, who gave me a rough push +forward.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When once we were all installed in a box facing the stage, +mamma and I in the first row, with Mlle. de Brabender +behind me, I felt more reassured. I was close against the +partition of the box, and I could feel Mlle. de Brabender’s +sharp knees through the velvet of my chair. This gave me +confidence, and I leaned against the back of the chair purposely +to feel the support of those two knees.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the curtain slowly rose I thought I should have +fainted. It was as though the curtain of my future life were +being raised. These columns (<cite><span lang="la">Britannicus</span></cite> was being played) +were to be my palaces, the borders above were to be my skies, +and those boards were to bend under my frail weight. I heard +nothing of <cite><span lang="la">Britannicus</span></cite>, for I was far, far away, at Grand-Champs, in my dormitory there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, what do you think of it?” asked my godfather +when the curtain fell. I did not answer, and he laid his hand +on my head and turned my face round towards him. I was +crying, and big tears were rolling slowly down my cheeks, those +tears that come without any sobs and without any hope of ever +ceasing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My godfather shrugged his shoulders, and getting up, left +the box, banging the door after him. Mamma, losing all +patience with me, proceeded to review the house through her +opera-glasses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. de Brabender passed me her handkerchief, for I had +dropped mine and dared not pick it up.</p> + +<hr class='c015'> + +<p class='c013'>The curtain had been raised for the second piece, <cite>Amphytrion</cite>, +and I made an effort to listen, for the sake of pleasing my +governess, who was so gentle and conciliating. I can only +remember one thing, and that is that Alcmène seemed to be so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>unhappy that I burst into loud sobs, and that the whole house, +very much amused, looked at our box. My mother, greatly +annoyed, took me out, and Mlle. de Brabender went with us. +My godfather was furious, and muttered, “She ought to be +shut up in a convent and left there. Good heavens, what a +little idiot the child is!” This was the <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> of my artistic +career.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span> + <h2 class='c008'>VII<br> <span class='large'>MY CAREER—FIRST LESSONS</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>I was beginning to think, though, of my new career. Books +were sent to me from all quarters: Racine, Corneille, Molière, +Casimir Delavigne, &c. I opened them, but, as I did not +understand them at all, I quickly closed them again, and read +my little Lafontaine, which I loved passionately. I knew all his +fables, and one of my delights was to make a bet with my godfather +or with M. Meydieu, our learned and tiresome friend. +I used to bet that they would not recognise all the fables if I +began with the last verse and went backwards to the first one, +and I often won the bet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A line from my aunt arrived one day, telling my mother that +M. Auber, who was then director of the Conservatoire, was +expecting us the next day at nine in the morning. I was +about to put my foot in the stirrup. My mother sent me with +Madame Guérard. M. Auber received us very affably, as the +Duc de Morny had spoken to him of me. I was very much +impressed by him, with his refined face and white hair, his ivory +complexion and magnificent black eyes, his fragile and distinguished +look, his melodious voice and the celebrity of his +name. I scarcely dared answer his questions. He spoke to me +very gently, and told me to sit down.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are very fond of the stage?” he began.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, no, Monsieur,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This unexpected reply amazed him. He looked at Madame +Guérard from under his heavy eyelids, and she at once said: +“No, she does not care for the stage; but she does not want to +marry, and consequently she will have no money, as her father +left her a hundred thousand francs which she can only get on +her wedding-day. Her mother, therefore, wants her to have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>some profession, for Madame Bernhardt has only an annuity, a +fairly good one, but it is only an annuity, and so she will not +be able to leave her daughters anything. On that account she +wants Sarah to become independent. She would like to enter a +convent.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But that is not an independent career, my child,” said +Auber slowly. “How old is she?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Fourteen and a half,” replied Madame Guérard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” I exclaimed, “I am nearly fifteen.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The kind old man smiled.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“In twenty years from now,” he said, “you will insist less +upon the exact figures,” and, evidently thinking the visit had +lasted long enough, he rose.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It appears,” he said to Madame Guérard, “that this little +girl’s mother is very beautiful?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, very beautiful,” she replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You will please express my regret to her that I have not seen +her, and my thanks for her having been so charmingly replaced.” +He thereupon kissed Madame Guérard’s hand, and she coloured +slightly. This conversation remained engraved on my mind. +I remember every word of it, every movement and every +gesture of M. Auber’s, for this little man, so charming and so +gentle, held my future in his transparent-looking hand. He +opened the door for us and, touching me on my shoulder, said: +“Come, courage, little girl. Believe me, you will thank your +mother some day for driving you to it. Don’t look so sad. Life +is well worth beginning seriously, but gaily.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stammered out a few words of thanks, and just as I was +making my exit a fine-looking woman knocked against me. +She was heavy and extremely bustling, though, and M. Auber +bent his head towards me and said quietly:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Above all things, don’t let yourself get stout like this singer. +Stoutness is the enemy of a woman and of an artist.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The man-servant was now holding the door open for us, and +as M. Auber returned to his visitor I heard him say:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, most ideal of women?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went away rather astounded, and did not say a word in the +carriage. Madame Guérard told my mother about our interview, +but she did not even let her finish, and only said, “Good, good; +thank you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>As the examination was to take place a month after this +visit, it became necessary to prepare for it. My mother did not +know any theatrical people. My godfather advised me to learn +<cite>Phèdre</cite>, but Mlle. de Brabender objected, as she thought it +a little offensive, and refused to help me if I chose that. +M. Meydieu, our old friend, wanted me to work at Chimène in +<cite><span lang="fr">Le Cid</span></cite>, but first he declared that I clenched my teeth too much +for it. It was quite true that I did not make the <em>o</em> open +enough and did not roll the <em>r</em> sufficiently either. He wrote a +little note-book for me, which I am copying textually, as my poor +dear Guérard religiously kept everything concerning me, and she +gave me, later on, a quantity of papers which are useful now.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following is our odious friend’s work:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“Every morning instead of <em>do ... re ... mi ...</em> practise +<em>te ... de ... de ...</em> in order to learn to vibrate....</p> + +<p class='c016'>“Before breakfast repeat forty times over, <i><span lang="fr">Un—très—gros—rat—dans—un—très—gros—trou</span></i>, in order to vibrate the <em>r</em>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“Before dinner repeat forty times: <i><span lang="fr">Combien ces six saucisses-ci? C’est six +sous, ces six saucisses-ci. Six sous ces six saucisses-ci? Six sous ceux-ci! Six +sous ceux-là; six sous ces six saucissons-ci!</span></i> in order to learn not to whizz the <em>s</em>.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“At night, when going to bed, repeat twenty times: <i><span lang="fr">Didon dina, dit-on, du +dos d’un dodu dindon.</span></i></p> + +<p class='c016'>“And twenty times: <i><span lang="fr">Le plus petit papa, petit pipi, petit popo, petit pupu.</span></i> +Open the mouth square for the <em>d</em> and pout for the <em>p</em>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He gave this piece of work quite seriously to Mlle. de +Brabender, who quite seriously wanted me to practise it. My +governess was charming, and I was very fond of her, but I could +not help yelling with laughter when, after making me go through +the <em>te de de</em> exercise, which went fairly well, and then the <i><span lang="fr">très +gros rat</span></i>, &c., she started on the <i><span lang="fr">saucisson</span></i> (sausages)! Ah, no. +There was a cacophony of hisses in her toothless mouth, enough +to make all the dogs in Paris howl. And when she began with +the <em>Didon</em>, accompanied by the <i><span lang="fr">plus petit papa</span></i>, I thought +my dear governess was losing her reason. She half closed her +eyes, her face was red, her moustache bristled up, she put on a +sententious, hurried manner; her mouth widened out and looked +like the slit in a money-box, or else it was creased up into +a little ring, and she purred and hissed and chirped and fooled +without ceasing. I flung myself exhausted into my wicker +chair, choking with laughter, and great tears poured from +my eyes. I stamped on the floor, flung my arms out right and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>left until they were tired, and rocked myself backwards and +forwards, pealing with laughter.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother, attracted by the noise I was making, half opened +the door. Mlle. de Brabender explained to her very gravely +that she was showing me M. Meydieu’s method. My mother +expostulated with me, but I would not listen to anything, as +I was nearly beside myself with laughter. She then took +Mlle. de Brabender away and left me alone, for she feared that I +should finish with hysterics. When once I was by myself I +began to calm down. I closed my eyes and thought of my +convent again. The <em>te de de</em> got mixed up in my enervated +brain with the “Our Father,” which I used to have to repeat +some days fifteen or twenty times as a punishment. Finally I +came to myself again, got up, and after bathing my face in cold +water went to my mother, whom I found playing whist +with my governess and godfather. I kissed Mlle. de Brabender, +and she returned my kiss with such indulgent kindness that +I felt quite embarrassed by it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ten days passed by, and I did none of M. Meydieu’s exercises, +except the <em>te de de</em> at the piano. My mother came and woke +me every morning for this, and it drove me wild. My godfather +made me learn <em>Aricie</em>, but I understood nothing of what he +told me about the verses. He considered, and explained to me, +that poetry must be said with an intonation, and that all the +value of it resided in the rhyme. His theories were boring to +listen to and impossible to execute. Then I could not understand Aricie’s character, for it did not seem to me that she +loved Hippolyte at all, and she appeared to me to be a +scheming flirt. My godfather explained to me that in olden +times this was the way people loved each other, and when +I remarked that Phèdre appeared to love in a better way than +that, he took me by the chin and said: “Just look at this +naughty child. She is pretending not to understand, and would +like us explain to her....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was simply idiotic. I did not understand, and had not +asked anything, but this man had a <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> mind, and was sly +and lewd. He did not like me because I was thin, but he was +interested in me because I was going to be an actress. That +word evoked for him the weak side of our art. He did not see +the beauty, the nobleness of it, nor yet its beneficial power.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>I could not fathom all this at that time, but I did not feel at +ease with this man, whom I had seen from my childhood and +who was almost like a father to me. I did not want to continue +learning <em>Aricie</em>. In the first place, I could not talk about it +with my governess, as she would not discuss the piece at all.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then learnt <cite><span lang="fr">L’Ecole des Femmes</span></cite>, and Mlle. de Brabender +explained Agnès to me. The dear, good lady did not see much +in it, for the whole story appeared to her of child-like simplicity, and when I said the lines, “He has taken from me, +he has taken from me the ribbon you gave me,” she smiled in +all confidence when Meydieu and my godfather laughed heartily.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span> + <h2 class='c008'>VIII<br> <span class='large'>THE CONSERVATOIRE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Finally the examination day arrived. Every one had given +me advice, but no one any real helpful counsel. It had not +occurred to any one that I ought to have had a professional to +prepare me for my examination. I got up in the morning with +a heavy heart and an anxious mind. My mother had had a black +silk dress made for me. It was slightly low-necked, and was +finished with a gathered berthe. The frock was rather short, +and showed my drawers. These were trimmed with embroidery, +and came down to my brown kid boots. A white guimpe +emerged from my black bodice and was fastened round my +throat, which was too slender. My hair was parted on my forehead +and then fell as it liked, for it was not held by pins or +ribbons. I wore a large straw hat, although the season was +rather advanced. Every one came to inspect my dress, and I +was turned round and round twenty times at least. I had to +make my curtsey for every one to see. Finally I seemed to give +general satisfaction. <i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame</span></i> came downstairs, with her +grave husband, and kissed me. She was deeply affected. Our +old Marguerite made me sit down, and put before me a cup of +cold beef tea, which she had simmered so carefully for a long +time that it was then a delicious jelly; I swallowed it in a second. +I was in a great hurry to start. On rising from my chair, I +moved so brusquely that my dress caught on to an invisible +splinter of wood, and was torn. My mother turned to a visitor, +who had arrived about five minutes before and had remained in +contemplative admiration ever since.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There,” she said to him in a vexed tone, “that is a proof +of what I told you. All your silks tear with the slightest +movement.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>“Oh no,” replied our visitor quickly; “I told you that this +one was not well dressed, and let you have it at a low price on +that account.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He who spoke was a young Jew, not ugly. He was a Dutchman—shy, +tenacious, but never violent. I had known him from +my childhood. His father, who was a friend of my grandfather’s +on my mother’s side, was a rich tradesman and the father of a +tribe of children. He gave each of his sons a small sum of +money, and sent them out to make their fortune where they +liked. Jacques, the one of whom I am speaking, came to Paris. +He had commenced by selling Passover cakes, and as a boy had +often brought me some of them to the convent, together with +the dainties that my mother sent me. Later on, my surprise +was great on seeing him offer my mother rolls of oil-cloth such +as is used for tablecloths for early breakfast. I remember one +of those cloths the border of which was formed of medallions +representing the French kings. It was from that oil-cloth that +I learned my history best. For the last month he had owned +quite an elegant vehicle, and he sold “silks that were not well +dressed.” At present he is one of the leading jewellers of Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The slit in my dress was soon mended, and, knowing now +that the silk was not well dressed, I treated it with respect. +Well, finally we started, Mlle. de Brabender, Madame Guérard, +and I, in a carriage that was only intended for two persons; and +I was glad that it was so small, for I was close to two people +who were fond of me, and my silk frock was spread carefully +over their knees.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I entered the waiting-room that leads into the recital +hall of the Conservatoire, there were about fifteen young men +and twenty girls there. All these girls were accompanied by +their mother, father, aunt, brother, or sister. There was an +odour of pomade and vanilla that made me feel sick.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When we were shown into this room I felt that every one +was looking at me, and I blushed to the back of my head. +Madame Guérard drew me gently along, and I turned to take +Mlle. de Brabender’s hand. She came shyly forward, blushing +more and still more confused than I was. Every one looked +at her, and I saw the girls nudge each other and nod in her +direction.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One of them got suddenly up and moved across to her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>mother. “Oh, mercy, look at that old sight!” she said. +My poor governess felt most uncomfortable, and I was furious, +I thought she was a thousand times nicer than all those fat, +dressed-up, common-looking mothers. Certainly she was +different from other people in her appearance, for Mlle. de +Brabender was wearing a salmon-coloured dress and an Indian +shawl, drawn tightly across her shoulders and fastened with a +very large cameo brooch. Her bonnet was trimmed with +ruches, so close together that it looked like a nun’s head-gear. +She certainly was not at all like these dreadful people in whose +society we found ourselves, and among whom there were not +more than ten exceptions. The young men were standing in +compact groups near the windows. They were laughing and, +I expect, making remarks in doubtful taste.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The door opened and a girl with a red face, and a young +man perfectly scarlet, came back after acting their scene. They +each went to their respective friends and then chattered away, +finding fault with each other. A name was called out: +Mlle. Dica Petit, and I saw a tall, fair, distinguished-looking +girl move forward without any embarrassment. She stopped +on her way to kiss a pretty woman, stout, with a pink and white +complexion, and very much dressed up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Don’t be afraid, mother dear,” she said, and then she added +a few words in Dutch before disappearing, followed by a young +man and a very thin girl who were to perform with her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was explained to me by Léautaud, who called over the +names of the pupils and took down the names of those who were +up to pass their examination and those who were to act with +them and give them the cues. I knew nothing of all this, and +wondered who was to give me the cues for Agnès. He +mentioned several young men, but I interrupted him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no,” I said; “I will not ask any one. I do not know +any of them, and I will not ask.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, then, what will you recite, Mademoiselle?” asked +Léautaud, with the most <i><span lang="fr">fouchtre</span></i> accent possible.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I will recite a fable,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He burst out laughing as he wrote down my name and the +title, <cite><span lang="fr">Deux Pigeons</span></cite>, which I gave him. I heard him still laughing +under his heavy moustache as he continued his round. He +then went back into the Conservatoire, and I began to get +feverish with excitement, so much so that Madame Guérard was +anxious about me, as my health unfortunately was very delicate. +She made me sit down, and then she put a few drops of eau-de-Cologne behind my ears.</p> +<div id='i066fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i066fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>LE CONSERVATOIRE NATIONAL DE MUSIQUE<br> ET DE DECLAMATION, PARIS</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>“There, that will teach you to wink like that!” were the +words I suddenly heard, and a girl with the prettiest face +imaginable had her ears boxed soundly. Nathalie Mauvoy’s +mother was correcting her daughter. I sprang up, trembling +with fright and indignation; I was as angry as a young +turkey-cock. I wanted to go and box the horrible woman’s +ears in return, and then to kiss the pretty girl who had been +insulted in this way, but I was held back firmly by my two +guardians.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dica Petit now returned, and this caused a diversion in the +waiting-room. She was radiant and quite satisfied with herself. +Oh, very well satisfied indeed! Her father held out a little +flask to her in which was some kind of cordial, and I should +have liked some of it too, for my mouth was dry and burning. +Her mother then put a little woollen square over her chest +before fastening her coat for her, and then all three of them +went away. Several other girls and young men were called +before my turn came.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally the call of my name made me jump as a sardine +does when pursued by a big fish. I tossed my head to shake +my hair back, and <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> stroked my badly dressed silk. +Mlle. de Brabender reminded me about the <em>o</em> and the <em>a</em>, +the <em>r</em>, the <em>p</em>, and the <em>t</em>, and I then went alone into the hall. +I had never been alone an hour in my life. As a little child I +was always clinging to the skirts of my nurse; at the convent I +was always with one of my friends or one of the sisters; at +home either with Mlle. de Brabender or Madame Guérard, or if +they were not there in the kitchen with Marguerite. And now +there I was alone in that strange-looking room, with a platform +at the end, a large table in the middle, and, seated round this +table, men who either grumbled, growled, or jeered. There was +only one woman present, and she had a loud voice. She was +holding an eyeglass, and as I entered she dropped it and +looked at me through her opera-glass. I felt every one’s gaze +on my back as I climbed up the few steps on to the platform. +Léautaud bent forward and whispered, “Make your bow and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>commence, and then stop when the chairman rings.” I looked +at the chairman, and saw that it was M. Auber. I had forgotten +that he was director of the Conservatoire, just as I +had forgotten everything else. I at once made my bow and +began:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">Deux pigeons s’aimaient d’amour tendre,</span></i></div> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">L’un d’eux s’ennuyant....</span></i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>A low, grumbling sound was heard, and then a “ventriloquist” +muttered, “It isn’t an elocution class here. What an idea to +come here reciting fables!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was Beauvallet, the deafening tragedian of the Comédie +Française. I stopped short, my heart beating wildly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Go on, my child,” said a man with silvery hair. This was +Provost.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, it won’t be as long as a scene from a play,” exclaimed +Augustine Brohan, the one woman present.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began again:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">Deux pigeons s’aimaient d’amour tendre,</span></i></div> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">L’un d’eux s’ennuyant au logis</span></i></div> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">Fut assez....</span></i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>“Louder, my child, louder,” said a little man with curly white +hair, in a kindly tone. This was Samson.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stopped again, confused and frightened, seized suddenly +with such a foolish fit of nervousness that I could have shouted +or howled. Samson saw this, and said to me, “Come, come; we +are not ogres!” He had just been talking in a low voice with +Auber.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come now, begin again,” he said, “and speak up.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah no,” put in Augustine Brohan, “if she is to begin again +it will be longer than a scene!” This speech made all the table +laugh, and that gave me time to recover myself. I thought all +these people unkind to laugh like this at the expense of a poor +little trembling creature who had been delivered over to them, +bound hand and foot.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt, without exactly defining it, a slight contempt for these +pitiless judges. Since then I have very often thought of that +trial of mine, and I have come to the conclusion that individuals +who are kind, intelligent, and compassionate become less estimable when they are together. The feeling of personal irresponsibility +<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>arouses their evil instincts, and the fear of ridicule chases +away their good ones.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I had recovered my will power I began my fable again, +determined not to mind what happened. My voice was more +liquid on account of the emotion, and the desire to make +myself heard caused it to be more resonant.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was silence, and before I had finished my fable the +little bell rang. I bowed and came down the few steps from +the platform, thoroughly exhausted. M. Auber stopped me as +I was passing by the table.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, little girl,” he said, “that was very good indeed. +M. Provost and M. Beauvallet both want you in their class.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I recoiled slightly when he told me which was M. Beauvallet, +for he was the “ventriloquist” who had given me such a +fright.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, which of these two gentlemen should you prefer?” he +asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not utter a word, but pointed to M. Provost.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That’s all right. Get your handkerchief out, my poor +Beauvallet, and I shall entrust this child to you, my dear +Provost.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I understood, and, wild with joy, I exclaimed, “Then I +have passed?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, you have passed; and there is only one thing I regret, +and that is that such a pretty voice should not be for music.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not hear anything else, for I was beside myself with +joy. I did not stay to thank any one, but bounded to the +door.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame!</span></i> Mademoiselle, I have passed!” I exclaimed, +and when they shook hands and asked me no end of questions I +could only reply, “Oh, it’s quite true. I have passed, I have +passed!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was surrounded and questioned.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“How do you know that you have passed? No one knows +beforehand.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, yes; I know, though. Monsieur Auber told me. I +am to go into Monsieur Provost’s class. Monsieur Beauvallet +wanted me, but his voice is too loud for me!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A disagreeable girl exclaimed, “Can’t you stop that? And +so they all want you!” A pretty girl, who was too dark, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>though, for my taste, came nearer and asked me gently what I +had recited.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The fable of the ‘Two Pigeons,’” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was surprised, and so was every one; while, as for me, +I was wildly delighted to surprise them all. I tossed my hat +on my head, shook my frock out, and, dragging my two friends +along, ran away dancing. They wanted to take me to the +confectioner’s to have something, but I refused. We got into a +cab, and I should have liked to push that cab along myself. +I fancied I saw the words, “I have passed,” written up over all +the shops.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When, on account of the crowded streets, the cab had to +stop, it seemed to me that the people stared at me, and I +caught myself tossing my head, as though telling them all that +it was quite true I had passed my examination. I never +thought any more about the convent, and only experienced +a feeling of pride at having succeeded in my first venturesome +enterprise. Venturesome, but the success had only depended +on me. It seemed to me as though the cabman would never +arrive at 265 Rue St. Honoré. I kept putting my head out +of the window, and saying, “Faster, cabby, faster, please!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>At last we reached the house, and I sprang out of the cab +and hurried along to tell the good news to my mother. On the +way I was stopped by the daughter of the hall-porter. She +was a corset-maker, and worked in a little room on the top +floor of the house which was opposite our dining-room, where +I used to do my lessons with my governess, so that I could not +help seeing her ruddy, wide-awake face constantly. I had +never spoken to her, but I knew who she was.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, Mademoiselle Sarah, are you satisfied?” she called out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, I have passed,” I answered, and I could not resist +stopping a minute in order to enjoy the astonishment of the +hall-porter family. I then hurried on, but on reaching the +courtyard came to a dead stand, anger and grief taking +possession of me, for there I beheld my <i><span lang="fr">petit dame</span></i>, her two +hands forming a trumpet, her head thrown back, shouting to my +mother, who was leaning out of the window, “Yes, yes; she +has passed!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I gave her a thump with my clenched hand and began to cry +with rage, for I had prepared a little story for my mother, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>ending up with the joyful surprise. I had intended putting +on a very sad look on arriving at the door, and pretending to +be broken-hearted and ashamed. I felt sure she would say, +“Oh, I am not surprised, my poor child, you are so foolish!” +and then I should have thrown my arms round her neck and +said, “It isn’t true, it isn’t true; I have passed!” I had +pictured to myself her face brightening up, and then old +Marguerite and my godfather laughing heartily and my sisters +dancing with joy, and here was Madame Guérard sounding her +trumpet and spoiling all the effects that I had prepared so well.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I must say that the kind woman continued as long as she +lived, that is the greater part of my life, to spoil all my effects. +It was all in vain that I made scenes; she could not help +herself. Whenever I related an adventure and wanted it to be +very effective, she would invariably burst into fits of laughter +before the end of it. If I told a story with a very lamentable +ending, which was to be a surprise, she would sigh, roll her +eyes, and murmur, “Oh dear, oh dear!” so that I always +missed the effect I was counting on. All this used to +exasperate me to such a degree that before beginning a story +or a game I used to ask her to go out of the room, and she +would get up and go, laughing at the idea of the blunder +she would make if there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Abusing Guérard, I went upstairs to my mother, whom I found +at the open door. She kissed me affectionately, and on seeing +my sulky face asked if I was not satisfied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” I replied; “but I am furious with Guérard. Be nice, +mamma, and pretend you don’t know. Shut the door, and I +will ring.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She did this, and I rang the bell. Marguerite opened the +door, and my mother came and pretended to be astonished. My +sisters, too, arrived, and my godfather and my aunt. When I +kissed my mother, exclaiming, “I have passed!” every one shouted +with joy, and I was gay again. I had made my effect, anyhow. +It was “the career” taking possession of me unawares. My +sister Régina, whom the sisters would not have in the convent, +and so had sent home, began to dance a jig. She had learnt +this in the country when she had been put out to nurse, and +upon every occasion she danced it, finishing always with this +couplet:</p> +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span><i><span lang="fr">Mon p’tit ventr’ éjouis toi</span></i></div> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">Tout ce ze gagn’ est pou’ toi....</span></i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c018'>Nothing could be more comic than this chubby child, with +her serious air. Régina never laughed, and only a suspicion of +a smile ever played over her thin lips and her mouth, which +was too small. Nothing could be more comic than to see her, +looking grave and rough, dancing the jig.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was funnier than ever that day, as she was excited by the +general joy. She was four years old, and nothing ever embarrassed +her. She was both timid and bold. She detested society +and people generally, and when she was made to go into the +dining-room she embarrassed people by her crude remarks, which +were most odd, by her rough answers, and her kicks and blows. +She was a terrible child, with silvery hair, dark complexion, blue +eyes, too large for her face, and thick lashes which made a shadow +on her cheeks when she lowered the lids and joined her eyebrows +when her eyes were open. She would be four or five hours +sometimes without uttering a word, without answering any +question she was asked, and then she would jump up from her +little chair, begin to sing as loud as she could, and dance the +jig. On this day she was in a good temper, for she kissed me +affectionately and opened her thin lips to smile. My sister +Jeanne kissed me and made me tell her about my examination. +My godfather gave me a hundred francs, and Meydieu, who +had just arrived to find out the result, promised to take me the +next day to Barbédienne’s to choose a clock for my room, as that +was one of my dreams.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span> + <h2 class='c008'>IX<br> <span class='large'>A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL AND EXAMINATIONS—THE CONSERVATOIRE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>An evolution took place in me from that day. For rather +a long time my soul remained child-like, but my mind discerned +life more distinctly. I felt the need of creating a personality for +myself. That was the first awakening of my will. I wanted to +be some one. Mlle. de Brabender declared to me that this +was pride. It seemed to me that it was not quite that, but +I could not then define what the sentiment was which imposed +this wish on me. I did not understand until a few months later +why I wished to be some one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A friend of my godfather’s made me an offer of marriage. +This man was a rich tanner and very kind, but so dark and with +such long hair and such a beard that he disgusted me. I refused +him, and my godfather then asked to speak to me alone. He +made me sit down in my mother’s boudoir, and said to me: “My +poor child, it is pure folly to refuse Monsieur Bed——. He has +sixty thousand francs a year and expectations.” It was the first +time I had heard this use of the word, and when the meaning +was explained to me I wondered if that was the right thing to +say on such an occasion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why, yes,” replied my godfather; “you are idiotic with +your romantic ideas. Marriage is a business affair, and must be +considered as such. Your future father- and mother-in-law will +have to die, just as we shall, and it is by no means disagreeable +to know that they will leave two million francs to their son, and +consequently to you, if you marry him.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I shall not marry him, though.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Because I do not love him.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“But you never love your husband before——” replied my +practical adviser. “You can love him after.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“After what?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ask your mother. But listen to me now, for it is not a +question of that. You must marry. Your mother has a small +income which your father left her, but this income comes from +the profits of the manufactory, which belongs to your grandmother, and she cannot bear your mother, who will therefore +lose that income, and then she will have nothing, and three +children on her hands. It is that accursed lawyer who is +arranging all this. The whys and wherefores would take too +long to explain. Your father managed his business affairs very +badly. You must marry, therefore, if not for your own sake, for +the sake of your mother and sisters. You can then give your +mother the hundred thousand francs your father left you, +which no one else can touch. Monsieur Bed—— will settle three +hundred thousand francs on you. I have arranged everything, +so that you can give this to your mother if you like, and with +four hundred thousand francs she will be able to live very +well.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I cried and sobbed, and asked to have time to think it over. +I found my mother in the dining-room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Has your godfather told you?” she asked gently, in rather +a timid way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, mother, yes; he has told me. Let me think it over, +will you?” I said, sobbing; as I kissed her neck lingeringly. I +then locked myself in my bedroom, and for the first time for +many days I regretted my convent. All my childhood rose up +before me, and I cried more and more, and felt so unhappy that +I wished I could die. Gradually, however, I began to get calm +again, and realised what had happened and what my godfather’s +words meant. Most decidedly I did not want to marry this man. +Since I had been at the Conservatoire I had learnt a few things +vaguely, very vaguely, for I was never alone, but I understood +enough to make me not want to marry without being in love. +I was, however, destined to be attacked in a quarter from which +I should not have expected it. Madame Guérard asked me to +go up to her room to see the embroidery she was doing on a +frame for my mother’s birthday.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My astonishment was great to find M. Bed—— there. He +<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>begged me to change my mind. He made me very wretched, for +he pleaded with tears in his eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you want a larger marriage settlement?” he asked. “I +would make it five hundred thousand francs.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But it was not that at all, and I said in a very low voice, “I +do not love you, Monsieur.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“If you do not marry me, Mademoiselle,” he said, “I shall +die of grief.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at him, and repeated to myself the words “die +of grief.” I was embarrassed and desperate, but at the same time +delighted, for he loved me just as a man does in a play. Phrases +that I had read or heard came to my mind vaguely, and I +repeated them without any real conviction, and then left +him without the slightest coquetry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Bed—— did not die. He is still living, and has a very +important financial position. He is much nicer now than when +he was so black, for at present he is quite white.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Well, I had just passed my first examination with remarkable +success, particularly in tragedy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Provost, my professor, had not wanted me to compete +in <cite><span lang="fr">Zaïre</span></cite>, but I had insisted. I thought that scene +with Zaïre and her brother Néréstan very fine, and it suited me. +But when Zaïre, overwhelmed with her brother’s reproaches, +falls on her knees at his feet, Provost wanted me to say the +words, “Strike, I tell you! I love him!” with violence, and I +wanted to say them gently, perfectly resigned to a death that +was almost certain. I argued about it for a long time with my +professor, and finally I appeared to give in to him during the +lesson. But on the day of the competition I fell on my knees +before Néréstan with a sob so real, my arms outstretched, offering +my heart, so full of love, to the deadly blow that I expected, +and I murmured with such tenderness, “Strike, I tell you! I +love him!” that the whole house burst into applause and +repeated the outburst twice over.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The second prize for tragedy was awarded me, to the +great dissatisfaction of the public, as it was thought that +I ought to have had the first prize. And yet it was only just +that I should have the second, on account of my age and +the short time I had been studying. I had a first accessit +for comedy in <cite><span lang="fr">La fausse Agnès</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>I felt, therefore, that I had the right to refuse. My future lay +open before me, and consequently my mother would not be in +want if she should lose her present income. A few days later +M. Régnier, professor at the Conservatoire and secretary of the +Comédie Française, came to ask my mother whether she would +allow me to play in a piece of his at the Vaudeville. The piece +was <cite><span lang="fr">Germaine</span></cite>, and the managers would give me twenty-five +francs for each performance. I was amazed at the sum. Seven +hundred and fifty francs a month for my first appearance! I was +wild with joy. I besought my mother to accept the offer made +by the Vaudeville, and she told me to do as I liked in +the matter.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I asked M. Camille Doucet, director of the Fine Arts +Department, to be so good as to receive me, and, as my mother +always refused to accompany me, Madame Guérard went with +me. My little sister Régina begged me to take her, and very +unwisely I consented. We had not been in the director’s office +more than five minutes before my sister, who was only six years +old, began to climb on to the furniture. She jumped on to +a stool, and finally sat down on the floor, pulling towards her +the paper basket, which was under the desk, and proceeded to +spread about all the torn papers which it contained. On seeing +this Camille Doucet mildly observed that she was not a +very good little girl. My sister, with her head in the basket, +answered in her husky voice, “If you bother me, Monsieur, I +shall tell every one that you are there to give out holy water +that is poison. My aunt says so.” My face turned purple with +shame, and I stammered out, “Please do not believe that, +Monsieur Doucet. My little sister is telling an untruth.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Régina sprang to her feet, and clenching her little fists, rushed +at me like a little fury. “Aunt Rosine never said that?” she +exclaimed. “You are telling an untruth. Why, she said it to +Monsieur de Morny, and he answered——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had forgotten this, and I have forgotten what the Duc de +Morny answered, but, beside myself with anger, I put my hand +over my sister’s mouth and took her quickly away. She howled +like a polecat, and we rushed like a hurricane through the +waiting-room, which was full of people.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then gave way to one of those violent fits of temper to which +I had been subject in my childhood. I sprang into the first cab +<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>that passed the door, and, when once in the cab, struck my sister +with such fury that Madame Guérard was alarmed, and protected +her with her own body, receiving all the blows I gave with my +head, arms, and feet, for in my anger, grief, and shame I flung +myself about to right and left. My grief was all the more profound from the fact that I was very fond of Camille Doucet. +He was gentle and charming, affable and kind-hearted. He had +refused my aunt something she had asked for, and, unaccustomed +to being refused anything, she had a spite against him. This +had nothing to do with me, though, and I wondered what +Camille Doucet would think. And then, too, I had not asked +him about the Vaudeville.</p> + +<p class='c013'>All my fine dreams had come to nothing. And it was this +little monster, who looked as fair and as white as a seraph, +who had just shattered my first hopes. Huddled up in the cab, +an expression of fear on her self-willed looking face and her thin +lips compressed, she was gazing at me under her long lashes with +half-closed eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On reaching home I told my mother all that had happened, +and she declared that my little sister should have no dessert for +two days. Régina was greedy, but her pride was greater than +her greediness. She turned round on her little heels and, dancing +her jig, began to sing, “My little stomach isn’t at all pleased,” +until I wanted to rush at her and shake her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few days later, during my lessons, I was told that the +Ministry refused to allow me to perform at the Vaudeville.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Régnier told me how sorry he was, but he added in a +kindly tone:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, but, my dear child, the Conservatoire thinks a lot of +you. Therefore you need not worry too much.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am sure that Camille Doucet is at the bottom of it,” I +said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, he certainly is not,” answered M. Régnier. “Camille +Doucet was your warmest advocate; but the Minister will not +upon any account hear of anything that might be detrimental +to your <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> next year.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I at once felt most grateful to Camille Doucet for his kindness +in bearing no ill-will after my little sister’s stupid behaviour. I +began to work again with the greatest zeal, and did not miss a +single lesson. Every morning I went to the Conservatoire with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>my governess. We started early, as I preferred walking to taking +the omnibus, and I kept the franc which my mother gave me +every morning, sixty centimes of which was for the omnibus, +and forty for cakes. We were to walk home always, but every +other day we took a cab with the two francs I had saved for this +purpose. My mother never knew about this little scheme, but +it was not without remorse that my kind Brabender consented +to be my accomplice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I said before, I did not miss a lesson, and I even went +to the deportment class, at which poor old M. Elie, duly +curled, powdered, and adorned with lace frills, presided. This +was the most amusing lesson imaginable. Very few of us +attended this class, and M. Elie avenged himself on us for the +abstention of the others. At every lesson each one of us was +called forward. He addressed us by the familiar term of <em>thou</em>, +and considered us as his property. There were only five or six +of us, but we all had to go on the stage. He always stood up +with his little black stick in his hand. No one knew why he +had this stick.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Now, young ladies,” he would say, “the body thrown back, +the head up, on tip-toes. That’s it. Perfect! One, two, +three, march!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And we marched along on tip-toes with heads up and eyelids +drawn over our eyes as we tried to look down in order to see +where we were walking. We marched along like this with all +the stateliness and solemnity of camels! He then taught us to +make our exit with indifference, dignity, or fury, and it was +amusing to see us going towards the doors either with a lagging +step, or in an animated or hurried way, according to the mood +in which we were supposed to be. Then we heard “Enough! +Go! Not a word!” For M. Elie would not allow us to +murmur a single word. “Everything,” he used to say, “is in +the look, the gesture, the attitude!” Then there was what he +called “<i><span lang="fr">l’assiette</span></i>,” which meant the way to sit down in a dignified +manner, to let one’s self fall into a seat wearily, or the “<i><span lang="fr">assiette</span></i>,” +which meant “I am listening, Monsieur; say what you wish.” +Ah, that was distractingly complicated, that way of sitting +down. We had to put everything into it: the desire to know +what was going to be said to us, the fear of hearing it, the +determination to go away, the will to stay. Oh, the tears that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>this “<i><span lang="fr">assiette</span></i>” cost me. Poor old M. Elie! I do not +bear him any ill-will, but I did my utmost later on to forget +everything he had taught me, for nothing could have been more +useless than those deportment lessons. Every human being +moves about according to his or her proportions. Women who +are too tall take long strides, those who stoop walk like the +Eastern women; stout women walk like ducks, short-legged +ones trot; very small women skip along, and the gawky ones +walk like cranes. Nothing can be changed, and the deportment +class has very wisely been abolished. The gesture must depict +the thought, and it is harmonious or stupid according to whether +the artist is intelligent or dull. On the stage one needs long +arms; it is better to have them too long than too short. An +artiste with short arms can never, never make a fine gesture. +It was all in vain that poor Elie told us this or that. We were +always stupid and awkward, whilst he was always comic, oh, so +comic, poor old man!</p> + +<p class='c013'>I also took fencing-lessons. Aunt Rosine put this idea into +my mother’s head. I had a lesson once a week from the famous +Pons. Oh, what a terrible man he was! Brutal, rude, and +always teasing; he was an incomparable fencing-master, but he +disliked giving lessons to “brats” like us, as he called us. He +was not rich, though, and I believe, but am not sure of it, that +this class had been organised for him by a distinguished patron +of his. He always kept his hat on, and this horrified Mlle. de +Brabender. He smoked his cigar, too, all the time, and this +made his pupils cough, as they were already out of breath from +the fencing exercise. What torture those lessons were! He +sometimes brought with him friends of his, who delighted in our +awkwardness. This gave rise to a scandal, as one day one of +these gay spectators made a most violent remark about one of +the male pupils named Châtelain, and the latter turned round +quickly and gave him a blow in the face. A skirmish immediately +occurred, and Pons, on endeavouring to intervene, received a +blow or two himself. This made a great stir, and from that day +forth visitors were not allowed to be present at the lesson. I +obtained my mother’s authorisation to discontinue attending the +class, and this was a great relief to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I very much preferred Régnier’s lessons to any others. He +was gentle, had nice manners, and taught us to be natural in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>what we recited, but I certainly owe all that I know to the +variety of instruction which I had, and which I followed up in +the most devoted way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Provost taught a broad style, with diction somewhat pompous +but sustained. He specially emphasised freedom of gesture and +inflexion. Beauvallet, in my opinion, did not teach anything +that was any good. He had a deep, effective voice, but that he +could not give to any one. It was an admirable instrument, but +it did not give him any talent. He was awkward in his gestures; +his arms were too short and his face common. I detested him +as a professor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Samson was just the opposite. His voice was not strong, but +piercing. He had a certain acquired distinction, but was very +correct. His method was simplicity. Provost emphasised +breadth, Samson exactitude, and he was very particular about +the finals. He would not allow us to drop the voice at the end +of the phrase. Coquelin, who is one of Régnier’s pupils, I +believe, has a great deal of Samson’s style, although he has +retained the essentials of his first master’s teaching. As for me, +I remember my three professors, Régnier, Provost, and Samson, +as though I had heard them only yesterday.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The year passed by without any great change in my life, but two +months before my second examination I had the misfortune to +have to change my professor. Provost was taken ill, and I went +into Samson’s class. He counted very much on me, but he was +authoritative and persistent. He gave me two very bad parts in +two very bad pieces: Hortense in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Ecole des Viellards</span></cite>, by Casimir +Delavigne, for comedy, and <cite><span lang="fr">La Fille du Cid</span></cite> for tragedy. This piece +was also by Casimir Delavigne. I did not feel at all in my element +in these two <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i>, both of which were written in hard, emphatic +language. The examination day arrived, and I did not look at +all nice. My mother had insisted on my having my hair done +by her hairdresser, and I had cried and sobbed on seeing +this “Figaro” make partings all over my head in order to +separate my rebellious mane. Idiot that he was, he had +suggested this style to my mother, and my head was in his +stupid hands for more than hour and a half, for he never before +had to deal with a mane like mine. He kept mopping his forehead +every five minutes and muttering, “What hair! Good +Heavens, it is horrible; just like tow! It might be the hair of a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>white negress!” Turning to my mother, he suggested that +my head should be entirely shaved and the hair then trained as +it grew again. “I will think about it,” replied my mother in an +absent-minded way. I turned my head so abruptly to look +at her when she said this that the curling irons burnt my forehead. +The man was using the irons to <em>uncurl</em> my hair. He considered +that it curled naturally in such a disordered style that he must +get the natural curl out of it and then wave it, as this would be +more becoming to the face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Mademoiselle’s hair is stopped in its growth by this extreme +curliness. All the Tangier girls and negresses have hair like this. +As Mademoiselle is going on to the stage, she would look better +if she had hair like Madame,” he said, bowing with respectful +admiration to my mother, who certainly had the most beautiful +hair imaginable. It was fair, and so long that when standing up +she could tread on it and bend her head forward. It is only fair +to say, though, that my mother was very short.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally I was out of the hands of this wretched man, and was +nearly dead with fatigue after an hour and a half’s brushing, +combing, curling, hair-pinning, with my head turned from left +to right and from right to left, &c. &c. I was completely +disfigured at the end of it all, and did not recognise myself. My +hair was drawn tightly back from my temples, my ears were +very visible and stood out, looking positively bold in their +bareness, whilst on the top of my head was a parcel of little +sausages arranged near each other to imitate the ancient +diadem.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked perfectly hideous. My forehead, which I always +saw more or less covered with a golden fluff of hair, seemed to +me immense, implacable.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not recognise my eyes, accustomed as I was to see them +shadowed by my hair. My head weighed two or three pounds. +I was accustomed to fasten my hair as I still do, with two hair-pins, and this man had put five or six packets in it, and all this +was heavy for my poor head.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was late, and so I had to dress very quickly. I cried with +anger, and my eyes looked smaller, my nose larger, and my veins +swelled. The climax was when I had to put my hat on. It +would not go on the packet of sausages, and my mother wrapped +my head up in a lace scarf and hurried me to the door.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>On arriving at the Conservatoire, I hurried with <i><span lang="fr">mon petit +Dame</span></i> to the waiting-room, whilst my mother went direct to the +theatre. I tore off the lace which covered my hair, and, seated +on a bench, after relating the Odyssey of my hairdressing, I +gave my head up to my companions. All of them adored and +envied my hair, because it was so soft and light and golden. +They were all sorry for me in my misery, and were touched by +my ugliness. Their mothers, however, were brimming over +with joy in their own fat.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The girls began to take out my hair-pins, and one of them, +Marie Lloyd, whom I liked best, took my head in her hands and +kissed it affectionately.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, your beautiful hair, what have they done to it?” she +exclaimed, pulling out the last of the hair-pins. This sympathy +made me once more burst into tears.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally I stood up, triumphant, without any hair-pins and +without any sausages. But my poor hair was very heavy with +the pomade the wretched man had put on it, and it was full of +the partings he had made for the creation of the sausages. It +fell now in mournful-looking, greasy flakes round my face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I shook my head for five minutes in mad rage. I then succeeded +in making the hair more loose, and I put it up as well as +I could with a couple of hair-pins.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The competition had commenced, and I was the tenth on +the list. I could not remember what I had to say. Madame +Guérard moistened my temples with cold water, and Mlle. de +Brabender, who had only just arrived, did not recognise me, and +looked about for me everywhere. She had broken her leg nearly +three months before, and had to hobble about on a crutch-stick, +but she had resolved to come.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Guérard was just beginning to tell her about the +drama of the hair when my name echoed through the room: +“Mademoiselle Chara Bernhardt!” It was Léautaud, who later +on was prompter at the Comédie Française, and who had a strong +accent peculiar to the natives of Auvergne. “Mademoiselle +Chara Bernhardt!” I heard again, and then I sprang up without +an idea in my mind and without uttering a word. I looked +round for my partner who was to give me my cues, and +together we made our entry.</p> +<div id='i082fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i082fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT IN THE HANDS OF<br> HER COIFFEUR, BEFORE GOING TO<br> THE CONSERVATOIRE EXAMINATION.<br> HER MOTHER IS ON THE LEFT</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>I was surprised at the sound of my voice, which I did not +recognise. I had cried so much that it had affected my voice, +and I spoke through my nose.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I heard a woman’s voice say, “Poor child; she ought not to +have been allowed to compete. She has an atrocious cold, her +nose is running and her face is swollen.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I finished my scene, made my bow, and went away in the +midst of very feeble and spiritless applause. I walked like a +somnambulist, and on reaching Madame Guérard and Mlle. de +Brabender fainted away in their arms. Some one went to the +hall in search of a doctor, and the rumour that “the little +Bernhardt had fainted” reached my mother. She was sitting +far back in a box, feeling bored to death. When I came to +myself again I opened my eyes and saw my mother’s pretty face, +with tears hanging on her long lashes. I laid my head against +hers and cried quietly, but this time the tears were refreshing, +not salt ones that burnt my eyelids.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stood up, shook out my dress, and looked at myself in the +greenish mirror. I was certainly less ugly now, for my face +was rested, my hair was once more soft and fluffy, and altogether +there was a general improvement in my appearance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The tragedy competition was over, and the prizes had been +awarded. I had nothing at all, but mention was made of my +last year’s second prize. I felt confused, but it did not cause +me any disappointment, as I quite expected things to be like +this. Several persons had protested in my favour. Camille +Doucet, who was a member of the jury, had pleaded a long time. +He wanted me to have a first prize in spite of my bad recitation. +He said that my examination results ought to be taken into +account, and they were excellent; and then, too, I had the best +class reports. Nothing, however, could overcome the bad effect +produced that day by my nasal voice, my swollen face, and my +heavy flakes of hair. After half an hour’s interval, during which +I drank a glass of port wine and ate cakes, the signal was given +for the comedy competition. I was fourteenth on the list for +this, so that I had ample time to recover. My fighting instinct +now began to take possession of me, and a sense of injustice +made me feel rebellious. I had not deserved my prize that day, +but it seemed to me that I ought to have received it nevertheless.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I made up my mind that I would have the first prize for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>comedy, and with the exaggeration that I have always put into +everything I began to get excited, and I said to myself that if I +did not get the first prize I must give up the idea of the stage +as a career. My mystic love and weakness for the convent came +back to me more strongly than ever. I decided that I would +enter the convent if I did not get the first prize. And the +most foolish illogical strife imaginable was waged in my weak +girl’s brain. I felt a genuine vocation for the convent when +distressed about losing the prize, and a genuine vocation for the +theatre when I was hopeful about winning the prize.</p> + +<p class='c013'>With a very natural partiality, I discovered in myself the gift +of absolute self-sacrifice, renunciation, and devotion of every +kind—qualities which would win for me easily the post of +Mother Superior in the Grand-Champs Convent. Then with +the most indulgent generosity I attributed to myself all the +necessary gifts for the fulfilment of my other dream, namely, to +become the first, the most celebrated, and the most envied of +actresses. I told off on my fingers all my qualities: grace, +charm, distinction, beauty, mystery, piquancy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh yes, I found I had all these, and when my reason and my +honesty raised any doubt or suggested a “but” to this fabulous +inventory of my qualities, my combative and paradoxical ego +at once found a plain, decisive answer which admitted of no +further argument.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was under these special conditions and in this frame of +mind that I went on to the stage when my turn came. The +choice of my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> for this competition was a very stupid one. I +had to represent a married woman who was “reasonable” and +very much inclined to argue, and I was a mere child, and looked +much younger than my years. In spite of this I was very +brilliant; I argued well, was very gay, and made an immense +success. I was transfigured with joy and wildly excited, so sure +I felt of a first prize.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I never doubted for a moment but that it would be awarded +to me unanimously. When the competition was over, the committee +met to discuss the awards, and in the meantime I asked +for something to eat. A cutlet was brought from the pastrycook’s patronised by the Conservatoire, and I devoured it, to the +great joy of Madame Guérard and Mlle. de Brabender, for I +detested meat, and always refused to eat it.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>The members of the committee at last went to their places in +the large box, and there was silence in the theatre. The young +men were called first on the stage. There was no first prize +awarded to them. Parfouru’s name was called for the second prize +for comedy. Parfouru is known to-day as M. Paul Porel, +director of the Vaudeville Theatre and Réjane’s husband. After +this came the turn of the girls.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was in the doorway, ready to rush up to the stage. The +words “First prize for comedy” were uttered, and I made a step +forward, pushing aside a girl who was a head taller than I was. +“First prize for comedy awarded unanimously to Mademoiselle +Marie Lloyd.” The tall girl I had pushed aside now went +forward, slender and radiant, towards the stage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There were a few protestations, but her beauty, her distinction, +and her modest charm won the day with every one, +and Marie Lloyd was cheered. She passed me on her return, and +kissed me affectionately. We were great friends, and I liked her +very much, but I considered her a nullity as a pupil. I do not +remember whether she had received any prize the previous year, +but certainly no one expected her to have one now. I was +simply petrified with amazement.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Second prize for comedy: Mademoiselle Bernhardt.” I had +not heard, and was pushed forward by my companions. On +reaching the stage I bowed, and all the time I could see hundreds +of Marie Lloyds dancing before me. Some of them were making +grimaces at me, others were throwing me kisses; some were +fanning themselves, and others bowing. They were very tall, +all these Marie Lloyds, too tall for the ceiling, and they walked +over the heads of all the people and came towards me, stifling +me, crushing me, so that I could not breathe. My face, it seems, +was whiter than my dress.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On leaving the stage I went and sat down on the bench without +uttering a word, and looked at Marie Lloyd, who was being +made much of, and who was greatly complimented by every one. +She was wearing a pale blue tarlatan dress, with a bunch of +forget-me-nots in the bodice and another in her black hair. +She was very tall, and her delicate white shoulders emerged +modestly from her dress, which was cut very low ... but in her +case this was without danger. Her refined face, with its somewhat +proud expression, was charming and very beautiful. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>Although very young, she had more of a woman’s fascination +than any of us. Her large brown eyes shone with dilating pupils; +her small round mouth gave a sly little smile at the corners, +and her wonderfully shaped nose had quivering nostrils. The +oval of her beautiful face was intercepted by two little pearly, +transparent ears of the most exquisite shape. She had a long, +flexible white neck, and the pose of her head was charming. It +was a beauty prize that the jury had conscientiously awarded to +Marie Lloyd.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She had come on to the stage gay and fascinating in her <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> +of Célimène, and in spite of the monotony of her delivery, the +carelessness of her elocution, the impersonality of her acting, she +had carried off all the votes because she was the very personification +of Célimène, that coquette of twenty years of age who was +so unconsciously cruel.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She had realised for every one the ideal dreamed of by Molière. +All these thoughts shaped themselves later on in my brain, and +this first lesson, which was so painful at the time, was of great +service to me in my career. I never forgot Marie Lloyd’s prize, +and every time that I have had a <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> to create, the personage +always appears before me dressed from head to foot, walking, +bowing, sitting down, getting up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But that is but the vision of a second; my mind has been +thinking of the soul that is to govern this personage. When +listening to an author reading his work, I try to define the intention +of his idea, in my desire to identify myself with that +intention. I have never played an author false with regard to +his idea. And I have always tried to represent the personage +according to history, whenever it is a historical personage, and +as the novelist describes it if an invented personage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I have sometimes tried to compel the public to return to +the truth and to destroy the legendary side of certain personages +whom history, with all its documents, now represents to +us as they were in reality, but the public never followed me. I +soon realised that legend remains victorious in spite of history. +And this is perhaps an advantage for the mind of the people. +Jesus, Joan of Arc, Shakespeare, the Virgin Mary, Mahomet, and +Napoleon I. have all entered into legend.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It is impossible now for our brain to picture Jesus and the +Virgin Mary accomplishing humiliating human functions. They +<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>lived the life that we are living. Death chilled their sacred +limbs, and it is not without rebellion and grief that we accept +this fact. We start off in pursuit of them in an ethereal heaven, +in the infinite of our dreams. We cast aside all the failings of +humanity in order to leave them, clothed in the ideal, seated +on a throne of love. We do not like Joan of Arc to be the +rustic, bold peasant girl, repulsing violently the hardy soldier who +wants to joke with her, the girl sitting astride her big Percheron +horse like a man, laughing readily at the coarse jokes of the +soldiers, submitting to the lewd promiscuities of the barbarous +epoch in which she lived, and having on that account all the +more merit in remaining the heroic virgin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We do not care for such useless truths. In the legend she is a +fragile woman guided by a divine soul. Her girlish arm which +holds the heavy banner is supported by an invisible angel. In +her childish eyes there is something from another world, and it +is from this that all the warriors drew strength and courage. +It is thus that we wish it to be, and so the legend remains +triumphant.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span> + <h2 class='c008'>X<br> <span class='large'>MY FIRST ENGAGEMENT AT THE COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE</span></h2> +</div> +<p class='c012'>But to return to the Conservatoire. Nearly all the pupils had +gone away, and I remained quiet and embarrassed on my bench. +Marie Lloyd came and sat down by me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you unhappy?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” I answered. “I wanted the first prize, and you have +it. It is not fair.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I do not know whether it is fair or not,” answered Marie +Lloyd, “but I assure you that it is not my fault.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could not help laughing at this.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Shall I come home with you to luncheon?” she asked, and +her beautiful eyes grew moist and beseeching. She was an +orphan and unhappy, and on this day of triumph she felt the +need of a family. My heart began to melt with pity and affection. +I threw my arms round her neck, and we all four went away +together—Marie Lloyd, Madame Guérard, Mlle. de Brabender, +and I. My mother had sent me word that she had gone on +home.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In the cab my “don’t care” character won the day once more, +and we chattered about every one. “Oh, how ridiculous such +and such a person was!” “Did you see her mother’s bonnet?” +“And old Estebenet; did you see his white gloves? He must +have stolen them from some policeman!” And hereupon we +laughed like idiots, and then began again. “And that poor +Châtelain had had his hair curled!” said Marie Lloyd. “Did +you see his head?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not laugh any more, though, for this reminded me of +how my own hair had been uncurled, and it was thanks to that +I had not won the first prize for tragedy.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>On reaching home we found my mother, my aunt, my godfather, +our old friend Meydieu, Madame Guérard’s husband, +and my sister Jeanne with her hair all curled. This gave me +a pang, for she had straight hair and it had been curled to +make her prettier, although she was charming without that, +and the curl had been taken out of my hair, so that I had +looked uglier.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother spoke to Marie Lloyd with that charming and +distinguished indifference peculiar to her. My godfather made +a great fuss of her, for success was everything to this <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i>. +He had seen my young friend a hundred times before, and had +not been struck by her beauty nor yet touched by her poverty, +but on this particular day he assured us that he had for a long +time predicted Marie Lloyd’s triumph. He then came to me, +put his two hands on my shoulders, and held me facing him. +“Well, you were a failure,” he said. “Why persist now in going +on the stage? You are thin and small, your face is pretty +enough when near, but ugly in the distance, and your voice does +not carry!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, my dear girl,” put in M. Meydieu, “your godfather +is right. You had better marry the miller who +proposed, or that imbecile of a Spanish tanner who lost his +brainless head for the sake of your pretty eyes. You will never +do anything on the stage! You’d better marry.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Guérard came and shook hands with me. He was a man +of nearly sixty years of age, and Madame Guérard was under +thirty. He was melancholy, gentle, and timid: he had been +awarded the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour, and he wore a +long, shabby frock coat, used aristocratic gestures, and was +private secretary to M. de la Tour Desmoulins, a prominent +deputy at the time. M. Guérard was a well of science, and I +owe much to his kindness. My sister Jeanne whispered to me, +“Sister’s godfather said when he came in that you looked as +ugly as possible.” Jeanne always spoke of my godfather in this +way. I pushed her away, and we sat down to table. All +through the meal my one wish was to go back to the convent. +I did not eat much, and directly after luncheon was so tired +that I had to go to bed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When once I was alone in my room between the sheets, with +tired limbs, my head heavy, and my heart oppressed with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>keeping back my sighs, I tried to consider my wretched +situation; but sleep, the great restorer, came to the rescue, and +I was very soon slumbering peacefully. When I woke I could +not collect my thoughts at first. I wondered what time it was, +and looked at my watch. It was just ten, and I had been +asleep since three o’clock in the afternoon. I listened for a few +minutes, but everything was silent in the house. On a table +near my bed was a small tray on which were a cup of chocolate +and a cake. A sheet of writing paper was placed upright +against the cup. I trembled as I took it up, for I never +received any letters. With great difficulty, by my night-light, +I managed to read the following words, written by Madame +Guérard: “When you had gone to sleep the Duc de Morny sent +word to your mother that Camille Doucet had just assured him +that you were to be engaged at the Comédie Française. Do not +worry any more, therefore, my dear child, but have faith in the +future.—Your <i><span lang="fr">petit Dame</span></i>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I pinched myself to make sure that I was really awake. I got +up and rushed to the window. I looked out, and the sky was +black. Yes, it was black to every one else, but starry to me. +The stars were shining, and I looked for my own special one, and +chose the largest and brightest.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went back towards my bed and amused myself with jumping +on to it, holding my feet together. Each time I missed I laughed +like a lunatic. I then drank my chocolate, and nearly choked +myself devouring my cake.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Standing up on my bolster, I then made a long speech to the +Virgin Mary at the head of my bed. I adored the Virgin Mary, +and I explained to her my reasons for not being able to take the +veil, in spite of my vocation. I tried to charm and persuade +her, and I kissed her very gently on her foot, which was crushing +the serpent. Then in the darkness I tried to find my mother’s +portrait. I could scarcely see this, but I threw kisses to it. +I then took up again the letter from <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>, and +went to sleep with it clasped in my hand. I do not remember +what my dreams were.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day every one was very kind to me. My godfather, +who arrived early, nodded his head in a contented way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She must have some fresh air,” he said. “I will treat you +to a landau.”</p> +<div id='i090fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i090fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT ON LEAVING<br> THE CONSERVATOIRE</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>The drive seemed to me delicious, for I could dream to my +heart’s content, as my mother disliked talking when in a +carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two days later our old servant Marguerite, breathless with +excitement, brought me a letter. On the corner of the envelope +there was a large stamp, around which stood the magic words +“Comédie Française.” I glanced at my mother, and she nodded +as a sign that I might open the letter, after blaming Marguerite +for handing it to me before obtaining her permission to do so.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is for to-morrow, to-morrow!” I exclaimed. “I am to go +there to-morrow! Look—read it!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My sisters came rushing to me and seized my hands. I danced +round with them, singing, “It’s for to-morrow! It’s for to-morrow!” +My younger sister was eight years old, but I was +only six that day. I went upstairs to the flat above to tell +Madame Guérard. She was just soaping her children’s white +frocks and pinafores. She took my face in her hands and kissed +me affectionately. Her two hands were covered with a soapy +lather, and left a snowy patch on each side of my head. I +rushed downstairs again like this, and went noisily into the +drawing-room. My godfather, M. Meydieu, my aunt, and my +mother were just beginning a game of whist. I kissed each of +them, leaving a patch of soap-suds on their faces, at which I +laughed heartily. But I was allowed to do anything that day, +for I had become a personage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day, Tuesday, I was to go to the Théâtre Français +at one o’clock to see M. Thierry, who was then director.</p> + +<p class='c013'>What was I to wear? That was the great question. My +mother had sent for the milliner, who arrived with various hats. +I chose a white one trimmed with pale blue, a white <i><span lang="fr">bavolet</span></i> and +blue strings. Aunt Rosine had sent one of her dresses for me, +for my mother thought all my frocks were too childish. Oh, +that dress! I shall see it all my life. It was hideous, cabbage-green, +with black velvet put on in a Grecian pattern. I looked +like a monkey in that dress. But I was obliged to wear it. Fortunately, +it was covered by a mantle of black <i><span lang="fr">gros-grain</span></i> stitched +all round with white. It was thought better for me to be +dressed like a grown-up person, and all my clothes were only +suitable for a school-girl. Mlle. de Brabender gave me a handkerchief +that she had embroidered, and Madame Guérard a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>sunshade. My mother gave me a very pretty turquoise +ring.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dressed up in this way, looking pretty in my white hat, uncomfortable in my green dress, but comforted by my mantle, I +went, the following day, with Madame Guérard to M. Thierry’s. +My aunt lent me her carriage for the occasion, as she thought +it would look better to arrive in a private carriage. Later on I +heard that this arrival in my own carriage, with a footman, +made a very bad impression. What all the theatre people +thought I never cared to consider, and it seems to me that my +extreme youth must really have protected me from all suspicion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Thierry received me very kindly, and made a little nonsensical speech. He then unfolded a paper which he handed to +Madame Guérard, asking her to read it and then to sign it. +This paper was my contract, and <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> explained +that she was not my mother.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah,” said M. Thierry, getting up, “then will you take it +with you and have it signed by Mademoiselle’s mother?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He then took my hand. I felt an instinctive horror at his, +for it was flabby, and there was no life or sincerity in its grasp. +I quickly took mine away and looked at him. He was plain, +with a red face and eyes that avoided one’s gaze. As I was +going away I met Coquelin, who, hearing I was there, had +waited to see me. He had made his <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> a year before with +great success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, it’s settled then!” he said gaily.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I showed him the contract and shook hands with him. I +went quickly down the stairs, and just as I was leaving the +theatre found myself in the midst of a group in the doorway.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you satisfied?” asked a gentle voice which I recognised +as M. Doucet’s.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, Monsieur; thank you so much,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But my dear child, I have nothing to do with it,” he +said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Your competition was not at all good, but nevertheless +we feel sure of you,” put in M. Régnier, and then turning to +Camille Doucet he asked, “What do you say, Excellency?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I think that this child will be a very great artist,” he +replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was a silence for a moment.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>“Well, you have got a fine carriage!” exclaimed Beauvallet +rudely. He was the first tragedian of the Comédie, and the +most uncouth man in France or anywhere else.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“This carriage belongs to Mademoiselle’s aunt,” remarked +Camille Doucet, shaking hands with me gently.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh—well, I am glad to hear that,” answered the tragedian.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then stepped into the carriage which had caused such +a sensation at the theatre, and drove away. On reaching home I +took the contract to my mother. She signed it without +reading it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I made my mind resolutely to be some one <i><span lang="fr">quand-même</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few days after my engagement at the Comédie Française +my aunt gave a dinner-party. Among her guests were the +Duc de Morny, Camille Doucet and the Minister of Fine Arts, +M. de Walewski, Rossini, my mother, Mlle. de Brabender, +and I. During the evening a great many other people came. +My mother had dressed me very elegantly, and it was the +first time I had worn a really low dress. Oh, how uncomfortable +I was! Every one paid me great attention. Rossini asked me +to recite some poetry, and I consented willingly, glad and proud +to be of some little importance. I chose Casimir Delavigne’s +poem, “<cite><span lang="fr">L’Ame du Purgatoire</span></cite>.” “That should be spoken with +music as an accompaniment,” exclaimed Rossini when I came +to an end. Every one approved this idea, and Walewski said; +“Mademoiselle will begin again, and you could improvise, +<i><span lang="fr">cher maître</span></i>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was great excitement, and I at once began again. +Rossini improvised the most delightful harmony, which filled me +with emotion. My tears flowed freely without my being conscious +of them, and at the end my mother kissed me, saying: +“This is the first time that you have really moved me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As a matter of fact, she adored music, and it was Rossini’s +improvisation that had moved her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Comte de Kératry, an elegant young hussar, was also +present. He paid me great compliments, and invited me to go +and recite some poetry at his mother’s house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt then sang a song which was very much in vogue, and +made a great success. She was coquettish and charming, and just +a trifle jealous of this insignificant niece who had taken up +the attention of her adorers for a few minutes.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>When I returned home I was quite another being. I sat +down, dressed as I was, on my bed, and remained for a long time +deep in thought. Hitherto all I had known of life had been +through my family and my work. I had now just had a glimpse +of it through society, and I was struck by the hypocrisy of some +of the people and the conceit of others. I began to wonder uneasily +what I should do, shy and frank as I was. I thought of +my mother. She did not do anything, though she was indifferent +to everything. I thought of my aunt Rosine, who, on +the contrary, liked to mix in everything.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remained there looking down on the ground, my head in a +whirl, and feeling very anxious, and I did not go to bed until I +was thoroughly chilled.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next few days passed by without any particular events. I +was working hard at Iphigénie, as M. Thierry had told me that +I was to make my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> in that <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the end of August I received a notice requesting me to +attend the rehearsal of <cite>Iphigénie</cite>. Oh, that first notice, how it +made my heart beat. I could not sleep at night, and daylight did +not come quickly enough for me. I kept getting up to look at +the time. It seemed to me that the clock had stopped. I had +dozed, and I fancied it was the same time as before. Finally a +streak of light coming through my window-panes was, I thought, +the triumphant sun illuminating my room. I got up at +once, pulled back the curtains, and mumbled my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> while +dressing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thought of my rehearsing with Madame Devoyod, the leading +<i><span lang="fr">tragédienne</span></i> of the Comédie Française, with Maubant, with——I +trembled as I thought of all this, for Madame Devoyod was +said to be anything but indulgent. I arrived for the rehearsal +an hour before the time. The stage manager, Davenne, smiled +and asked me whether I knew my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>. “Oh yes,” I exclaimed +with conviction. “Come and rehearse it. Would you like +to?” and he took me to the stage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went with him through the long corridor of busts which +leads from the green-room to the stage. He told me the names +of the celebrities represented by these busts. I stood still a +moment before that of Adrienne Lecouvreur.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I love that artiste,” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you know her story?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>“Yes; I have read all that has been written about her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That’s right, my child,” said the worthy man. “You ought +to read all that concerns your art. I will lend you some interesting +books.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He took me towards the stage. The mysterious gloom, the +scenery reared up like fortifications, the bareness of the floor, the +endless number of weights, ropes, trees, borders, battens overhead, +the yawning house completely dark, the silence, broken by the +creaking of the floor, and the vault-like chill that one felt—all +this together awed me. It did not seem to me as if I were +entering the brilliant ranks of living artistes who every night +won the applause of the house by their merriment or their sobs. +No, I felt as though I were in the tomb of dead glories, and the +stage seemed to me to be getting crowded with the illustrious +shadows of those whom the stage manager had just mentioned. +With my highly strung nerves, my imagination, which was +always evoking something, now saw them advance towards me +stretching out their hands. These spectres wanted to take me +away with them. I put my hands over my eyes and stood still.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you not well?” asked M. Davenne.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, thank you; it was just a little giddiness.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>His voice had chased away the spectres, and I opened my eyes +and paid attention to the worthy man’s advice. Book in hand, +he explained to me where I was to stand, and my changes of +place, &c. He was rather pleased with my way of reciting, and +he taught me a few of the traditions. At the line,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><i><span lang="fr">Eurybate à l’autel, conduisez la victime</span></i>,</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c018'>he said, “Mademoiselle Favart was very effective there.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The artistes gradually began to arrive, grumbling more or +less. They glanced at me, and then rehearsed their scenes without +taking any notice of me at all.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt inclined to cry, but I was more vexed than anything +else. I heard three coarse words used by one or another of the +artistes. I was not accustomed to this somewhat brutal +language. At home every one was rather timorous. At my +aunt’s people were a trifle affected, whilst at the convent, it is +unnecessary to say, I had never heard a word that was out of +place. It is true that I had been through the Conservatoire, +but I had not cultivated any of the pupils with the exception +<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>of Marie Lloyd and Rose Baretta, the elder sister of Blanche +Baretta, who is now a Sociétaire of the Comédie Française.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the rehearsal was over it was decided that there should +be another one at the same hour the following day in the public +<i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The costume-maker came in search of me, as she wanted to +try on my costume. Mlle. de Brabender, who had arrived +during the rehearsal, went up with me to the costume-room. +She wanted my arms to be covered, but the costume-maker told +her gently that this was impossible in tragedy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A dress of white woollen material was tried on me. It was +very ugly, and the veil was so stiff that I refused it. A wreath +of roses was tried on, but this too was so unsightly that I refused +to wear it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, then, Mademoiselle,” said the costume-maker dryly, +“you will have to get these things and pay for them yourself, +as this is the costume supplied by the Comédie.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very well,” I answered, blushing; “I will get them myself.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>On returning home I told my mother my troubles, and, as she +was always very generous, she promptly bought me a veil of +white barège that fell in beautiful, large, soft folds, and a wreath +of hedge roses which at night looked very soft and white. She +also ordered me buskins from the shoemaker employed by the +Comédie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next thing to think about was the make-up box. For +this my mother had recourse to the mother of Dica Petit, my +fellow student at the Conservatoire. I went with Madame +Dica Petit to M. Massin, a manufacturer of these make-up +boxes. He was the father of Léontine Massin, another +Conservatoire pupil.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We went up to the sixth floor of a house in the Rue Réaumur, +and on a plain-looking door read the words <em>Massin, manufacturer +of make-up boxes</em>. I knocked, and a little hunchback girl opened +the door. I recognised Léontine’s sister, as she had come several +times to the Conservatoire.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” she exclaimed, “what a surprise for us! Titine,” she +then called out, “here is Mademoiselle Sarah!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Léontine Massin came running out of the next room. She +was a pretty girl, very gentle and calm in demeanour. She +threw her arms round me, exclaiming, “How glad I am to see +<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>you! And so you are going to make your début at the +Comédie. I saw it in the papers.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I blushed up to my ears at the idea of being mentioned in the +papers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am engaged at the Variétés,” she said, and then she talked +away at such a rate that I was bewildered. Madame Petit did +not enter into all this, and tried in vain to separate us. She +had replied by a nod and an indifferent “Thanks” to Léontine’s +inquiries about her daughter’s health. Finally, when the young +girl had finished saying all she had to say, Madame Petit +remarked:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You must order your box. We have come here for that, you +know.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh you will find my father in his workshop at the end of +the passage, and if you are not very long I shall still be here. +I am going to rehearsal at the Variétés later on.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Petit was furious, for she did not like Léontine +Massin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Don’t wait, Mademoiselle,” she said; “it will be impossible +for us to stay afterwards.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Léontine was annoyed, and, shrugging her shoulders, turned +her back on my companion. She then put her hat on, kissed +me, and bowing gravely to Madame Petit, said: “I hope, +Madame ‘Gros-tas,’ I shall never see you again.” She then +ran off, laughing merrily. I heard Madame Petit mutter a +few disagreeable words in Dutch, but the meaning of them +was only explained to me later on. We then went to the workshop, +and found old Massin at his bench, planing some small +planks of white wood. His hunchback daughter kept coming +in and out, humming gaily all the time. The father was glum +and harsh, and had an anxious look. As soon as we had ordered +the box we took our leave. Madame Petit went out first; +Léontine’s sister held me back by the hand and said quietly, +“Father is not very polite, but it is because he is jealous. +He wanted my sister to be at the Théâtre Français.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was rather disturbed by this confidence, and I had a vague +idea of the painful drama which was acting so differently on +the various members of this humble home.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XI<br> <span class='large'>MY DÉBUT AT THE HOUSE OF MOLIÈRE, AND MY FIRST DEPARTURE THEREFROM</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>On September 1, 1862, the day I was to make my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i>, I +was in the Rue Duphot looking at the theatrical posters. They +used to be put up then at the corner of the Rue Duphot +and the Rue St. Honoré. On the poster of the Comédie +Française I read the words “<i><span lang="fr">Début of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt</span></i>.” +I have no idea how long I stood there, fascinated by the letters +of my name, but I remember that it seemed to me as though +every person who stopped to read the poster looked at me +afterwards, and I blushed to the very roots of my hair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At five o’clock I went to the theatre. I had a dressing-room +on the top floor which I shared with Mlle. Coblentz. This +room was on the other side of the Rue de Richelieu, in a house +rented by the Comédie Française. A small covered bridge +over the street served as a passage and means of communication +for us to reach the Comédie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was a tremendously long time dressing, and did not know +whether I looked nice or not. <i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame</span></i> thought I was +too pale, and Mlle. de Brabender considered that I had too +much colour. My mother was to go direct to her seat in the +theatre, and Aunt Rosine was away in the country.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the call-boy announced that the play was about to +begin, I broke into a cold perspiration from head to foot, and +felt ready to faint. I went downstairs trembling, tottering, +and my teeth chattering. When I arrived on the stage the +curtain was rising. That curtain which was being raised +so slowly and solemnly was to me like the veil being torn +which was to let me have a glimpse of my future. A deep +gentle voice made me turn round. It was Provost, my first +<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>professor, who had come to encourage me. I greeted him +warmly, so glad was I to see him again. Samson was there, +too; I believe that he was playing that night in one of Molière’s +comedies. The two men were very different. Provost was tall, +his silvery hair was blown about, and he had a droll face. +Samson was small, precise, dainty; his shiny white hair curled +firmly and closely round his head. Both men had been moved +by the same sentiment of protection for the poor, fragile, +nervous girl, who was nevertheless so full of hope. Both +of them knew my zeal for work, my obstinate will, which was +always struggling for victory over my physical weakness. They +knew that my motto “<i><span lang="fr">Quand-même</span></i>” had not been adopted by +me merely by chance, but that it was the outcome of a +deliberate exercise of will power on my part. My mother had +told them how I had chosen this motto at the age of nine, after +a formidable leap over a ditch which no one could jump and +which my young cousin had dared me to attempt. I had hurt +my face, broken my wrist, and was in pain all over. Whilst +I was being carried home I exclaimed furiously, “Yes, +I would do it again, <i><span lang="fr">quand-même</span></i>, if any one dared me again. +And I will always do what I want to do all my life.” In the +evening of that day my aunt, who was grieved to see me in +such pain, asked me what would give me any pleasure. My +poor little body was all bandaged, but I jumped with joy at +this, and quite consoled, I whispered in a coaxing way, +“I should like to have some writing-paper with a motto of my +own.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother asked me rather slyly what my motto was. I did +not answer for a minute, and then, as they were all waiting +quietly, I uttered such a furious “<i><span lang="fr">Quand-même</span></i>” that my Aunt +Faure started back exclaiming, “What a terrible child!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Samson and Provost reminded me of this story in order to give +me courage, but my ears were buzzing so that I could not listen +to them. Provost heard my “cue” on the stage, and pushed +me gently forward. I made my entry and hurried towards +Agamemnon, my father. I did not want to leave him again, as +I felt I must have some one to hold on to. I then rushed to my +mother, Clytemnestra ... I stammered ... and on leaving +the stage I rushed up to my room and began to undress.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Guérard was terrified, and asked me if I was mad. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>I had only played one act, and there were four more. I +realised then that it would really be dangerous to give way to +my nerves. I had recourse to my own motto, and, standing in +front of the glass gazing into my own eyes, I ordered myself to +be calm and to conquer myself, and my nerves, in a state of confusion, +yielded to my brain. I got through the play, but was +very insignificant in my part.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next morning my mother sent for me early. She had +been looking at Sarcey’s article in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Opinion Nationale</span></cite>, and +she now read me the following lines: “Mlle. Bernhardt who +made her <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> yesterday in the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Iphigénie, +is a tall, pretty girl with a slender figure and a very pleasing expression; +the upper part of her face is remarkably beautiful. Her +carriage is excellent, and her enunciation is perfectly clear. +This is all that can be said for her at present.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The man is an idiot,” said my mother, drawing me to her. +“You were charming.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She then prepared a little cup of coffee for me, and made it +with cream. I was happy, but not completely so.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When my godfather arrived in the afternoon he exclaimed, +“Good heavens! My poor child, what thin arms you have!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As a matter of fact, people had laughed, and I had heard +them, when stretching out my arms towards Eurybate. I had +said the famous line in which Favart had made her “effect” that +was now a tradition. I certainly had made no “effect,” unless +the smiles caused by my long, thin arms can be reckoned as such.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My second appearance was in <cite><span lang="fr">Valérie</span></cite>, when I did make some +slight success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My third appearance at the Comédie resulted in the following +<i><span lang="fr">boutade</span></i> from the pen of the same Sarcey:</p> + +<p class='c013'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Opinion Nationale</span></cite>, September 12: “The same evening <cite><span lang="fr">Les +Femmes Savantes</span></cite> was given. This was Mlle. Bernhardt’s third +<i><span lang="fr">début</span></i>, and she assumed the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Henriette. She was just +as pretty and insignificant in this as in that of Junie [he had +made a mistake, as it was Iphigénie I had played] and of Valérie, +both of which <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i> had been entrusted to her previously. This +performance was a very poor affair, and gives rise to reflections +by no means gay. That Mlle. Bernhardt should be insignificant +does not much matter. She is a <i><span lang="fr">débutante</span></i>, and among the +number presented to us it is only natural that some should be +failures. The pitiful part is, though, that the comedians playing +with her were not much better than she was, and they are +Sociétaires of the Théâtre Français. All that they had more +than their young comrade was a greater familiarity with the +boards. They are just as Mlle. Bernhardt may be in twenty +years’ time, if she stays at the Comédie Française.”</p> +<div id='i100fpa' class='figleft id005'> +<img src='images/i100fpa.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>AN EARLY PORTRAIT OF<br> SARAH BERNHARDT</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id='i100fpb' class='figright id005'> +<img src='images/i100fpb.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT IN<br> <cite><span lang="fr">LES FEMMES SAVANTES</span></cite></p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id='i100fpc' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i100fpc.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AS THE<br> DUC DE RICHELIEU</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>I did not stay there, though, for one of those nothings which +change a whole life changed mine. I had entered the Comédie +expecting to remain there always. I had heard my godfather +explain to my mother all about the various stages of my career.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The child will have so much during the first five years,” he +said, “and so much afterwards, and then at the end of thirty +years she will have the pension given to Sociétaires—that is, if +she ever becomes a Sociétaire.” He appeared to have his doubts +about that.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My sister Régina was the cause (though quite involuntarily +this time) of the drama which made me leave the Comédie. It +was Molière’s anniversary, and all the artistes of the Français +salute the bust of the great writer, according to the tradition +of the theatre. It was to be my first appearance at a “ceremony,” +and my little sister, on hearing me tell about it at home, besought +me to take her to it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother gave me permission to do so, and our old Marguerite +was to accompany us. All the members of the Comédie +were assembled in the <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i>. The men and women, dressed in +different costumes, all wore the famous doctor’s cloak. The +signal was given that the ceremony was about to commence, and +every one hurried along the corridor of the busts. I was +holding my little sister’s hand, and just in front of us was the +very fat and very solemn Madame Nathalie. She was a Sociétaire +of the Comédie, old, spiteful, and surly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Régina, in trying to avoid the train of Marie Roger’s cloak, +stepped on to Nathalie’s, and the latter turned round and gave +the child such a violent push that she was knocked against a +column on which was a bust. Régina screamed out, and as she +turned back to me I saw that her pretty face was bleeding.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You miserable creature!” I called out to the fat woman, +and as she turned round to reply I slapped her in the face. +She proceeded to faint; there was a great tumult, and an uproar +of indignation, approval, stifled laughter, satisfied revenge, pity +<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>for the poor child from those artistes who were mothers, &c. &c. +Two groups were formed, one around the wretched Nathalie, who +was still in her swoon, and the other around little Régina. And +the different aspect of these two groups was rather strange. +Around Nathalie were cold, solemn-looking men and women, +fanning the fat, helpless lump with their handkerchiefs or fans. +A young but severe-looking Sociétaire was sprinkling her with +drops of water. Nathalie, on feeling this, roused up suddenly, +put her hands over her face, and muttered in a far-away voice, +“How stupid! You’ll spoil my make-up!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The younger men were stooping over Régina, washing her +pretty face, and the child was saying in her broken voice, “I did +not do it on purpose, sister, I am certain I didn’t. She’s an old +cow, and she just kicked for nothing at all!” Régina was a +fair-haired seraph, who might have made the angels envious, for +she had the most ideal and poetical beauty—but her language +was by no means choice, and nothing in the world could change +it. Her coarse speech made the friendly group burst out +laughing, while all the members of the enemy’s camp shrugged +their shoulders. Bressant, who was the most charming of the +comedians and a general favourite, came up to me and said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We must arrange this little matter, dear Mademoiselle, for +Nathalie’s short arms are really very long. Between ourselves, +you were a trifle hasty, but I like that, and then that child +is so droll and so pretty,” he added, pointing to my little +sister.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The house was stamping with impatience, for this little scene +had caused twenty minutes’ delay, and we were obliged to go on +to the stage at once. Marie Roger kissed me, saying, “You +are a plucky little comrade!” Rose Baretta drew me to her, +murmuring, “How dared you do it! She is a Sociétaire!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As for me, I was not very conscious as to what I had done, +but my instinct warned me that I should pay dearly for it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day I received a letter from the manager +asking me to call at the Comédie at one o’clock, about a matter +concerning me privately. I had been crying all night long, +more through nervous excitement than from remorse, and I was +particularly annoyed at the idea of the attacks I should have to +endure from my own family. I did not let my mother see the +letter, for from the day that I had entered the Comédie I had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>been emancipated. I received my letters now direct, without +her supervision, and I went about alone.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At one o’clock precisely I was shown into the manager’s +office. M. Thierry, his nose more congested than ever, and +his eyes more crafty, preached me a deadly sermon, blamed my +want of discipline, absence of respect, and scandalous conduct, +and finished his pitiful harangue by advising me to beg Madame +Nathalie’s pardon.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I have asked her to come,” he added, “and you must +apologise to her before three Sociétaires, members of the committee. +If she consents to forgive you, the committee will then +consider whether to fine you or to cancel your engagement.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not reply for a few minutes. I thought of my mother +in distress, my godfather laughing in his <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> way, +and my Aunt Faure triumphant, with her usual phrase, “That +child is terrible!” I thought too of my beloved Brabender, +with her hands clasped, her moustache drooping sadly, her small +eyes full of tears, so touching in their mute supplication. I +could hear my gentle, timid Madame Guérard arguing with +every one, so courageous was she always in her confidence in my +future.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, Mademoiselle?” said M. Thierry curtly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at him without speaking, and he began to get +impatient.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I will go and ask Madame Nathalie to come here,” he said, +“and I beg you will do your part as quickly as possible, for I +have other things to attend to than to put your blunders +right.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no, do not fetch Madame Nathalie,” I said at last. “I +shall not apologise to her. I will leave; I will cancel my +engagement at once.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was stupefied, and his arrogance melted away in pity for +the ungovernable, wilful child, who was about to ruin her whole +future for the sake of a question of self-esteem. He was at +once gentler and more polite. He asked me to sit down, which +he had not hitherto done, and he sat down himself opposite to +me, and spoke to me gently about the advantages of the +Comédie, and of the danger that there would be for me in +leaving that illustrious theatre, which had done me the honour +of admitting me. He gave me a hundred other very good, wise +<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>reasons which softened me. When he saw the effect he had +made he wanted to send for Madame Nathalie, but I roused up +then like a little wild animal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, don’t let her come here; I should box her ears again!” +I exclaimed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, I must ask your mother to come,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My mother would never come,” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Then I will go and call on her,” he remarked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It will be quite useless,” I persisted. “My mother has +emancipated me, and I am quite free to lead my own life. +I alone am responsible for all that I do.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, Mademoiselle, I will think it over,” he said, +rising, to show me that the interview was at an end. I went +back home, determined to say nothing to my mother; but my +little sister when questioned about her wound had told everything in her own way, exaggerating, if possible, the brutality of +Madame Nathalie and the audacity of what I had done. Rose +Baretta, too, had been to see me, and had burst into tears, +assuring my mother that my engagement would be cancelled. +The whole family was very much excited and distressed when I +arrived, and when they began to argue with me it made me still +more nervous. I did not take calmly the reproaches which one +and another of them addressed to me, and I was not at all +willing to follow their advice. I went to my room and locked +myself in.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day no one spoke to me, and I went up to +Madame Guérard to be comforted and consoled.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Several days passed by, and I had nothing to do at the +theatre. Finally one morning I received a notice requesting +me to be present at the reading of a play,—<cite>Dolorès</cite>, by +M. Bouilhet. This was the first time I had been asked +to attend the reading of a new piece. I was evidently to have +a <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> to “create.” All my sorrows were at once dispersed +like a cloud of butterflies. I told my mother of my joy, +and she naturally concluded that as I was asked to attend a +reading my engagement was not to be cancelled, and I was not +to be asked again to apologise to Madame Nathalie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went to the theatre, and to my utter surprise I received +from M. Davennes the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Dolorès, the chief part in Bouilhet’s +play. I knew that Favart, who should have had this <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>was not well; but there were other artistes, and I could not +get over my joy and surprise. Nevertheless, I felt somewhat +uneasy. A terrible presentiment has always warned me of any +troubles about to come upon me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had been rehearsing for five days, when one morning on +going upstairs I suddenly found myself face to face with +Nathalie, seated under Gérôme’s portrait of Rachel, known as +“the red pimento.” I did not know whether to go downstairs +again or to pass by. My hesitation was noticed by the spiteful +woman.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, you can pass, Mademoiselle,” she said. “I have forgiven +you, as I have avenged myself. The <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> that you like so +much is not going to be for you after all.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went by without uttering a word. I was thunderstruck by +her speech, which I guessed would prove true.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not mention this incident to any one, but continued +rehearsing. It was on Tuesday that Nathalie had spoken to me, +and on Friday I was disappointed to hear that Davennes was +not there, and that there was to be no rehearsal. Just as I was +getting into my cab the hall-porter ran out to give me a letter +from Davennes. The poor man had not ventured to come himself +and give me the news, which he was sure would be so painful to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He explained to me in his letter that on account of my extreme +youth—the importance of the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>—such responsibility for my +young shoulders—and finally that as Madame Favart had +recovered from her illness, it was more prudent that, &c. &c. +I finished reading the letter through blinding tears, but very +soon anger took the place of grief. I rushed back again and +sent my name in to the manager’s office. He could not see +me just then, but I said I would wait. After one hour, +thoroughly impatient, taking no notice of the office-boy and +the secretary, who wanted to prevent my entering, I opened +the door of M. Thierry’s office and walked in. All that +despair, anger against injustice, and fury against falseness +could inspire me with I let him have, in a stream of +eloquence only interrupted by my sobs. The manager gazed at +me in bewilderment. He could not conceive of such daring and +such violence in a girl so young.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When at last, thoroughly exhausted, I sank down in an arm-chair, +he tried to calm me, but all in vain.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>“I will leave at once,” I said. “Give me back my contract +and I will send you back mine.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally, tired of argument and persuasion, he called his secretary +and gave him the necessary orders, and the latter soon +brought in my contract.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here is your mother’s signature, Mademoiselle. I leave you +free to bring it me back within forty-eight hours. After that +time if I do not receive it I shall consider that you are no longer +a member of the theatre. But believe me, you are acting +unwisely. Think it over during the next forty-eight hours.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not answer, but went out of his office. That very evening +I sent back to M. Thierry the contract bearing his signature, +and tore up the one with that of my mother.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had left Molière’s Theatre, and was not to re-enter it until +twelve years later.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XII<br> <span class='large'>AT THE GYMNASE THEATRE—A TRIP TO SPAIN</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>This proceeding of mine was certainly violently decisive, and +it completely upset my home life. I was not happy from this +time forth amongst my own people, as I was continually being +blamed for my violence. Irritating remarks with a double +meaning were constantly being made by my aunt and my little +sister. My godfather, whom I had once for all requested +to mind his own business, no longer dared to attack me openly; +but he influenced my mother against me. There was no longer +any peace for me except at Madame Guérard’s, and so I was constantly +with her. I enjoyed helping her in her domestic affairs. +She taught me to make cakes, chocolate, and scrambled eggs. +All this gave me something else to think about, and I soon +recovered my gaiety.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One morning there was something very mysterious about my +mother. She kept looking at the clock, and seemed uneasy +because my godfather, who lunched and dined with us every +day, had not arrived.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s very strange,” my mother said, “for last night after +whist he said he should be with us this morning before +luncheon. It’s very strange indeed!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was usually calm, but she kept coming in and out of the +room, and when Marguerite put her head in at the door to ask +whether she should serve the luncheon, my mother told her +to wait.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally the bell rang, startling my mother and Jeanne. My +little sister was evidently in the secret.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, it’s settled!” exclaimed my godfather, shaking the +snow from his hat. “Here, read that, you self-willed girl.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He handed me a letter stamped with the words “Théâtre du +<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>Gymnase.” It was from Montigny, the manager of the theatre, +to M. de Gerbois, a friend of my godfather’s whom I knew +very well. The letter was very friendly, as far as M. de +Gerbois was concerned, but it finished with the following words, +“I will engage your <i><span lang="fr">protégée</span></i> in order to be agreeable to +you... but she appears to me to have a vile temper.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I blushed as I read these lines, and I thought my godfather +was wanting in tact, as he might have given me real delight and +avoided hurting my feelings in this way, but he was the +clumsiest-minded man that ever lived. My mother seemed very +much pleased, so I kissed her pretty face and thanked my godfather. +Oh, how I loved kissing that pearly face, which was +always so cool and always slightly dewy. When I was a little +child I used to ask her to play at butterfly on my cheeks with +her long lashes, and she would put her face close to mine and +open and shut her eyes, tickling my cheeks whilst I lay back +breathless with delight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day I went to the Gymnase. I was kept waiting +for some little time, together with about fifty other girls. +M. Monval, a cynical old man who was stage manager and +almost general manager, then interviewed us. I liked him at +first, because he was like M. Guérard, but I very soon disliked +him. His way of looking at me, of speaking to me, and of +taking stock of me generally roused my ire at once. I answered +his questions curtly, and our conversation, which seemed likely +to take an aggressive turn, was cut short by the arrival of M. +Montigny, the manager.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Which of you is Mademoiselle Sarah Bernhardt?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I at once rose, and he continued, “Will you come into +my office, Mademoiselle?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Montigny had been an actor, and was plump and good-humoured. +He appeared to be somewhat infatuated with his +own personality, with his ego, but that did not matter to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After some friendly conversation, he preached a little to +me about my outburst at the Comédie, and made me a great +many promises about the <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i> I should have to play. He +prepared my contract, and gave it me to take home for my +mother’s signature and that of my family council.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am emancipated,” I said to him, “so that my own +signature is all that is required.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>“Oh, very good,” he said; “but what nonsense to have +emancipated a self-willed girl. Your parents did not do you +a good turn by that.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was just on the point of replying that what my parents +chose to do did not concern him, but I held my peace, signed +the contract, and hurried home feeling very joyful.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Montigny kept his word at first. He let me understudy +Victoria Lafontaine, a young artist very much in vogue just +then, who had the most delightful talent. I played in <cite><span lang="fr">La +maison sans enfants</span></cite>, and I took her <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> at a moment’s notice +in <cite><span lang="fr">Le démon du jeu</span></cite>, a piece which made a great success. I was +fairly good in both plays, but Montigny, in spite of my +entreaties, never came to see me in them, and the spiteful stage +manager played me no end of tricks. I used to feel a sullen +anger stirring within me, and I struggled with myself as much +possible to keep my nerves calm.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One evening, on leaving the theatre, a notice was handed to +me requesting me to be present at the reading of a play the +following day. Montigny had promised me a good part, and I +fell asleep that night lulled by fairies, who carried me off into +the land of glory and success. On arriving at the theatre I +found Blanche Pierson and Céline Montalant already there—two of the prettiest creatures that God has been pleased to +create, the one as fair as the rising sun, and the other as dark +as a starry night, for she was brilliant-looking in spite of her +black hair. There were other women there, too—very, very +pretty ones.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The play to be read was entitled <cite><span lang="fr">Un mari qui lance sa femme</span></cite>, +and it was by Raymond Deslandes. I listened to it without +any great pleasure, and I thought it stupid. I waited anxiously +to see what <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was to be given to me, and I discovered this +only too soon. It was a certain Princess Dimchinka, a frivolous, +foolish, laughing individual, who was always eating or dancing. +I did not like the part at all. I was very inexperienced on the +stage, and my timidity made me rather awkward. Besides, I had +not worked for three years with such persistency and conviction +in order to create the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of an idiotic woman in an imbecile +play. I was in despair, and the wildest ideas came into my head. +I wanted to give up the stage and go into business. I spoke +of this to our old family friend, Meydieu, who was so unbearable. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>He approved of my idea, and wanted me to take a shop—a +confectioner’s—on the Boulevard des Italiens. This became a +fixed idea with the worthy man. He loved sweets himself, and +he knew lots of recipes for various sorts of sweets that were not +generally known, and which he wanted to introduce. I remember +one kind that he wanted to call “<i><span lang="fr">bonbon nègre</span></i>.” It +was a mixture of chocolate and essence of coffee rolled into +grilled licorice root. It was like black <i><span lang="fr">praliné</span></i>, and was extremely +good. I was very persistent in this idea at first, and went with +Meydieu to look at a shop, but when he showed me the little +flat over it where I should have to live, it upset me so much +that I gave up for ever the idea of business.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went every day to the rehearsal of the stupid piece, and +was bad-tempered all the time. Finally the first performance +took place, and my part was neither a success nor a failure. I +simply was not noticed, and at night my mother remarked, “My +poor child, you were ridiculous in your Russian princess <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, +and I was very much grieved!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not answer at all, but I should honestly have liked to +kill myself. I slept very badly that night, and towards six in +the morning I rushed up to Madame Guérard. I asked her to +give me some laudanum, but she refused. When she saw that I +really wanted it, the poor dear woman understood my design. +“Well, then,” I said, “swear by your children that you will not +tell any one what I am going to do, and then I will not kill +myself.” A sudden idea had just come into my mind, and, +without going further into it, I wanted to carry it out at once. +She promised, and I then told her that I was going at once to +Spain, as I had longed to see that country for a long time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Go to Spain!” she exclaimed. “With whom and when?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“With the money I have saved,” I answered. “And this +very morning. Every one is asleep at home. I shall go and +pack my trunk, and start at once with you!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no, I cannot go,” exclaimed Madame Guérard, nearly +beside herself. “There is my husband to think of, and my +children.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Her little girl was scarcely two years old at that time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, then, <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>, find me some one to go with +me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I do not know any one,” she answered, crying in her excitement. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>“My dear little Sarah give up such an idea, I beseech +you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But by this time it was a fixed idea with me, and I was very +determined about it. I went downstairs, packed my trunk, and +then returned to Madame Guérard. I had wrapped up a pewter +fork in paper, and this I threw against one of the panes of glass +in a skylight window opposite. The window was opened +abruptly, and the sleepy, angry face of a young woman appeared. +I made a trumpet of my two hands and called out:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Caroline, will you start with me at once for Spain?” The +bewildered expression on the woman’s face showed that she had +not comprehended, but she replied at once, “I am coming, +Mademoiselle.” She then closed her window, and ten minutes +later Caroline was tapping at the door. Madame Guérard had +sunk down aghast in an arm-chair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Guérard had asked several times from his bedroom what +was going on.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Sarah is here,” his wife had replied. “I will tell you later +on.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Caroline did dressmaking by the day at Madame Guérard’s, and +she had offered her services to me as lady’s maid. She was +agreeable and rather daring, and she now accepted my offer at +once. But as it would not do to arouse the suspicions of the +concierge, it was decided that I should take her dresses in my +trunk, and that she should put her linen into a bag to be +lent by <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Poor dear Madame Guérard had given in. She was quite conquered, +and soon began to help in my preparations, which +certainly did not take me long.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But I did not know how to get to Spain.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You go through Bordeaux,” said Madame Guérard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no,” exclaimed Caroline; “my brother-in-law is a skipper, +and he often goes to Spain by Marseilles.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had saved nine hundred francs, and Madame Guérard lent me +six hundred. It was perfectly mad, but I felt ready to conquer +the universe, and nothing would have induced me to abandon +my plan. Then, too, it seemed to me as though I had been +wishing to see Spain for a long time. I had got it into my +head that my Fate willed it, that I must obey my star, and +a hundred other ideas, each one more foolish than the other, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>strengthened me in my plan. I was destined to act in this +way, I thought.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went downstairs again. The door was still ajar. With Caroline’s +help I carried the empty trunk up to Madame Guérard’s, +and Caroline emptied my wardrobe and drawers, and then packed +the trunk. I shall never forget that delightful moment. It +seemed to me as though the world was about to be mine. I was +going to start off with a woman to wait on me. I was about to +travel alone, with no one to criticise what I decided to do. I +should see an unknown country about which I had dreamed, and +I should cross the sea. Oh, how happy I was! Twenty times +I must have gone up and down the staircase which separated +our two flats. Every one was asleep in my mother’s flat, and +the rooms were so disposed that not a sound of our going in and +out could reach her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My trunk was at last closed, Caroline’s valise fastened, and +my little bag crammed full. I was quite ready to start, but the +fingers of the clock had moved along by this time, and to my +horror I discovered that it was eight o’clock. Marguerite would +be coming down from her bedroom at the top of the house to +prepare my mother’s coffee, my chocolate, and bread and milk +for my sisters. In a fit of despair and wild determination I +kissed Madame Guérard with such violence as almost to stifle +her, and rushed once more to my room to get my little Virgin +Mary, which went with me everywhere. I threw a hundred +kisses to my mother’s room, and then, with wet eyes and a joyful +heart, went downstairs. <i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame</span></i> had asked the man +who polished the floors to take the trunk and the valise down, +and Caroline had fetched a cab. I went like a whirlwind past +the concierge’s door. She had her back turned towards me and +was sweeping the floor. I sprang into the cab, and the driver +whipped up his horse. I was on my way to Spain. I had written +an affectionate letter to my mother begging her to forgive me +and not to be grieved. I had written a stupid letter of explanation +to Montigny, the manager of the Gymnase Theatre. The +letter did not explain anything, though. It was written by a +child whose brain was certainly a little affected, and I finished +up with these words: “Have pity on a poor, crazy girl!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sardou told me later on that he happened to be in Montigny’s +office when he received my letter.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>“The conversation was very animated, and when the door +opened Montigny exclaimed in a fury, ‘I had given orders +that I was not to be disturbed!’ He was somewhat appeased, +however, on seeing old Monval’s troubled look, and he knew +something urgent was the matter. ‘Oh, what’s happened +now?’ he asked, taking the letter that the old stage manager +held out to him. On recognising my paper, with its grey +border, he said, ‘Oh, it’s from that mad child! Is she ill?’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘No,’ said Monval; ‘she has gone to Spain.’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘She can go to the deuce!’ exclaimed Montigny. ‘Send for +Madame Dieudonnée to take her part. She has a good memory, +and half the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> must be cut. That will settle it.’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘Any trouble for to-night?’ I asked Montigny.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘Oh, nothing,’ he answered; ‘it’s that little Sarah Bernhardt +who has cleared off to Spain!’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘That girl from the Français who boxed Nathalie’s ears?’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘Yes.’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘She’s rather amusing.’</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘Yes, but not for her managers,’ remarked Montigny, continuing +immediately afterwards the conversation which had +been interrupted.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This is exactly as Victorien Sardou related the incident.</p> + +<hr class='c015'> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving at Marseilles, Caroline went to get information +about the journey. The result was that we embarked on an +abominable trading-boat, a dirty coaster, smelling of oil and +stale fish, a perfect horror.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had never been on the sea, so I fancied that all boats +were like this one, and that it was no good complaining. +After six days of rough sea we landed at Alicante. Oh, that +landing, how well I remember it! I had to jump from boat to +boat, from plank to plank, with the risk of falling into the water +a hundred times over, for I am naturally inclined to dizziness, +and the little gangways, without any rails, rope, or anything, +thrown across from one boat to another and bending under +my light weight seemed to me like mere ropes stretched across +space.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Exhausted with fatigue and hunger, I went to the first hotel +recommended to us. Oh, what a hotel it was! The house itself +was built of stone, with low arcades. Rooms on the first floor +<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>were given to me. Certainly the owners of these hotel people +had never had two ladies in their house before. The bedroom +was large, but with a low ceiling. By way of decoration there +were enormous fish bones arranged in garlands caught up by the +heads of fish. By half shutting one’s eyes this decoration +might be taken for delicate sculpture of ancient times. In +reality, however, it was merely composed of fish bones.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had a bed put up for Caroline in this sinister-looking room. +We pulled the furniture across against the doors, and I did not +undress, for I could not venture on those sheets. I was accustomed +to fine sheets perfumed with iris, for my pretty little +mother, like all Dutch women, had a mania for linen and cleanliness, +and she had inculcated me with this harmless mania.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was about five in the morning when I opened my eyes, no +doubt instinctively, as there had been no sound to rouse me. +A door, leading I did not know where, opened, and a man +looked in. I gave a shrill cry, seized my little Virgin Mary, +and waved her about, wild with terror.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Caroline roused up with a start, and courageously rushed to +the window. She threw it up, screaming, “Fire! Thieves! +Help!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The man disappeared, and the house was soon invaded by the +police. I leave it to be imagined what the police of Alicante +forty years ago were like. I answered all the questions asked +me by a vice-consul, who was an Hungarian and spoke +French. I had seen the man, and he had a silk handkerchief on +his head. He had a beard, and on his shoulder a <i><span lang="fr">poncho</span></i>, but +that was all I knew. The Hungarian vice-consul, who, I +believe, represented France, Austria, and Hungary, asked me +the colour of the brigand’s beard, silk handkerchief, and <i><span lang="fr">poncho</span></i>. +It had been too dark for me to distinguish the colours exactly. +The worthy man was very much annoyed at my answer. After +taking down a few notes he remained thoughtful for a moment +and then gave orders for a message to be taken to his home. It +was to ask his wife to send a carriage, and to get a room ready +in order to receive a young foreigner in distress. I prepared to +go with him, and after paying my bill at the hotel we started +off in the worthy Hungarian’s carriage, and I was welcomed by +his wife with the most touching cordiality. I drank the coffee +with thick cream which she poured out for me, and during +<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>breakfast told her who I was and where I was going. She +then told me in return that her father was an important +manufacturer of cloth, that he was from Bohemia, and a great +friend of my father’s. She took me to the room that had +been prepared for me, made me go to bed, and told me that +while I was asleep she would write me some letters of introduction +for Madrid.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I slept for ten hours without waking, and when I roused up +was thoroughly rested in mind and body. I wanted to send a +telegram to my mother, but this was impossible, as there was no +telegraph at Alicante. I wrote a letter, therefore, to my poor +dear mother, telling her that I was in the house of friends +of my father, &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day I started for Madrid with a letter for the +landlord of the Hôtel de la Puerta del Sol. Nice rooms were +given to us, and I sent messengers with the letters from +Madame Rudcowitz. I spent a fortnight in Madrid, and was +made a great deal of and generally fêted. I went to all the +bull-fights, and was infatuated with them. I had the honour +of being invited to a great <i><span lang="fr">corrida</span></i> given in honour of Victor +Emmanuel, who was just then the guest of the Queen of Spain. +I forgot Paris, my sorrows, disappointments, ambitions and +everything else, and I wanted to live in Spain. A telegram +sent by Madame Guérard made me change all my plans. My +mother was very ill, the telegram informed me. I packed my +trunk and wanted to start off at once, but when my hotel bill +was paid I had not a <i><span lang="fr">sou</span></i> to pay for the railway journey. +The landlord of the hotel took two tickets for me, prepared +a basket of provisions, and gave me two hundred francs at the +station, telling me that he had received orders from Madame +Rudcowitz not to let me want for anything. She and her +husband were certainly most delightful people.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My heart beat fast when I reached my mother’s house in +Paris. <i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame</span></i> was waiting for me downstairs in the +concierge’s room. She was very excited to see me looking so well, +and kissed me with her eyes full of tears of joy. The concierge +and family poured forth their compliments. Madame Guérard +went upstairs before me to inform my mother of my arrival, +and I waited a moment in the kitchen and was hugged by +our old servant Marguerite.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>My sisters both came running in. Jeanne kissed me, then +turned me round and examined me. Régina, with her hands +behind her back, leaned against the stove gazing at me furiously.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, won’t you kiss me, Régina?” I asked, stooping down +to her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, don’t like you,” she answered. “You’ve went off without +me. Don’t like you now.” She turned away brusquely to avoid +my kiss, and knocked her head against the stove.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally Madame Guérard appeared again, and I went with her. +Oh, how repentant I was, and how deeply affected. I knocked +gently at the door of the room, which was hung with pale blue +rep. My mother looked very white, lying in her bed. Her face +was thinner, but wonderfully beautiful. She stretched out her +arms like two wings, and I rushed forward to this white, loving +nest. My mother cried silently, as she always did. Then her +hands played with my hair, which she let down and combed with +her long, taper fingers. Then we asked each other a hundred +questions. I wanted to know everything, and she did too, so +that we had the most amusing duet of words, phrases, and kisses. +I found that my mother had had a rather severe attack of +pleurisy, that she was now getting better, but was not yet well. +I therefore took up my abode again with her, and for the time +being went back to my old bedroom. Madame Guérard had +told me in a letter that my grandmother on my father’s side +had at last agreed to the proposal made by my mother. My +father had left a certain sum of money which I was to have on +my wedding-day. My mother, at my request, had asked my +grandmother to let me have half this sum, and she had at last +consented, saying that she should use the interest of the other +half, but that this latter half would always be at my disposal if +I changed my mind and consented to marry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was therefore determined to live my life as I wished, to go +away from home and be quite independent. I adored my +mother, but our ideas were altogether different. Besides, my +godfather was perfectly odious to me, and for years and years +he had been in the habit of lunching and dining with us every +day, and of playing whist every evening. He was always +hurting my feelings in one way or another. He was a very +rich old bachelor, with no near relatives. He adored my +mother, but she had always refused to marry him. She had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>put up with him at first, because he was a friend of my +father’s. After my father’s death she had continued to put +up with him, because she was then accustomed to him, until +finally she quite missed him when he was ill or travelling. +But, placid as she was, my mother was authoritative, and +could not endure any kind of constraint. She therefore rebelled +against the idea of another master. She was very gentle but +determined, and this determination of hers ended sometimes in the +most violent anger. She used then to turn very pale, and violet +rings would come round her eyes, her lips would tremble, her +teeth chatter, her beautiful eyes take a fixed gaze, the words +would come at intervals from her throat, all chopped up—hissing +and hoarse. After this she would faint; and the veins of her +throat would swell, and her hands and feet turned icy cold. +Sometimes she would be unconscious for hours, and the doctors +told us that she might die in one of these attacks, so that we did +all in our power to avoid these terrible accidents. My mother +knew this, and rather took advantage of it, and, as I had inherited this tendency to fits of rage from her, I could not and +did not wish to live with her. As for me, I am not placid. I +am active and always ready for fight, and what I want I always +want immediately. I have not the gentle obstinacy peculiar to +my mother. The blood begins to boil under my temples before +I have time to control it. Time has made me wiser in this +respect, but not sufficiently so. I am aware of this, and it causes +me to suffer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not say anything about my plans to our dear invalid, +but I asked our old friend Meydieu to find me a flat. The old +man, who had tormented me so much during my childhood, had +been most kind to me ever since my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> at the Théâtre +Français, and, in spite of my row with Nathalie, and my +escapade when at the Gymnase, he was now ready to see the best +in me. When he came to see us the day after my return home, +I remained talking with him for a time in the drawing-room, +and confided my intentions to him. He quite approved, and +said that my intercourse with my mother would be all the more +agreeable because of this separation.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XIII<br> <span class='large'>FROM THE PORTE ST. MARTIN THEATRE TO THE ODÉON</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>I took a flat in the Rue Duphot, quite near to my mother, +and Madame Guérard undertook to have it furnished for me. As +soon as my mother was well again, I talked to her about it, +and I was not long in making her agree with me that it was +really better I should live by myself and in my own way. When +once she had accepted the situation everything went along +satisfactorily. My sisters were present when we were talking +about it. Jeanne was close to my mother, and Régina, who had +refused to speak to me or look at me ever since my return three +weeks ago, suddenly jumped on to my lap.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Take me with you this time!” she exclaimed suddenly. “I +will kiss you, if you will.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I glanced at my mother, rather embarrassed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, take her,” she said, “for she is unbearable.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Régina jumped down again and began to dance a jig, muttering +the rudest, silliest things at the same time. She then nearly +stifled me with kisses, sprang on to my mother’s arm-chair, and +kissed her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, saying:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are glad I am going, aren’t you? You can give everything +to your Jenny!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother coloured slightly, but as her eyes fell on Jeanne +her expression changed and a look of unspeakable affection +came over her face. She pushed Régina gently aside, and the +child went on with her jig.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We two will stay together,” said my mother, leaning her +head back on Jeanne’s shoulder, and she said this quite unconsciously, +just in the same way as she had gazed at my sister. +I was perfectly stupefied, and closed my eyes so that I should not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>see. I could only hear my little sister dancing her jig and +emphasising every stamp on the floor with the words, “And we +two as well; we two, we two!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was a very painful little drama that was stirring our four +hearts in this little <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> home, and the result of it was that +I settled down finally with my little sister in the flat in the Rue +Duphot. I kept Caroline with me, and engaged a cook. <i><span lang="fr">Mon +petit Dame</span></i> was with me nearly all day, and I dined every +evening with my mother.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was still on good terms with an actor of the Porte Saint +Martin Theatre, who had been appointed stage manager there, +Marc Fournier being at that time manager of the theatre. A +piece entitled <cite><span lang="fr">La biche au bois</span></cite> was then being given. It +was a spectacular play, and was having a great success. A +delightful actress from the Odéon Theatre, Mlle. Debay, had +been engaged for the principal <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>. She played tragedy princesses +most charmingly. I often had tickets for the Porte Saint +Martin, and I thoroughly enjoyed <cite><span lang="fr">La biche au bois</span></cite>. Madame +Ulgade sang admirably in her <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of the young prince, and +amazed me. Mariquita charmed me with her dancing. She +was delightful and so animated in her dances, so characteristic, +and always so full of distinction. Thanks to old Josse, I knew +every one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But to my surprise and terror, one evening towards five +o’clock, on arriving at the theatre to get the tickets for our +seats, he exclaimed on seeing me:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why here is our Princess, our little <i><span lang="fr">biche au bois</span></i>. Here +she is! It is the Providence that watches over theatres who +has sent her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I struggled like an eel caught in a net, but it was all in vain. +M. Marc Fournier, who could be very charming, gave me to +understand that I should be rendering him a great service and +would “save” the receipts. Josse, who guessed what my scruples +were, exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, my dear child, it will still be your high art, for +Mademoiselle Debay from the Odéon Theatre plays this <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> +of Princess, and Mademoiselle Debay is the first artiste at the +Odéon and the Odéon is an imperial theatre, so that it cannot +be any disgrace after your studies.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mariquita, who had just arrived, also persuaded me, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>Madame Ulgade was sent for to rehearse the duos, for I was to +sing. Yes, and I was to sing with a veritable artiste, one who +was considered to be the first artiste of the Opéra Comique.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was but little time to spare. Josse made me rehearse +my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, which I almost knew, as I had seen the piece often and +I had an extraordinary memory. The minutes flew, soon running +into quarters of an hour, and these quarters of an hour made +half-hours, and then entire hours. I kept looking at the clock, +the large clock in the manager’s room, where Madame Ulgade +was making me rehearse. She thought my voice was pretty, +but I kept singing out of tune, and she helped me along and +encouraged me all the time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was dressed up in Mlle. Debay’s clothes, and the curtain +was raised. Poor me! I was more dead than alive, but my +courage returned after a triple burst of applause for the couplet +which I sang on waking in very much the same way as I should +have murmured a series of Racine’s lines.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the performance was over Marc Fournier offered me, +through Josse, a three years’ engagement, but I asked to be +allowed to think it over. Josse had introduced me to a +dramatic author, Lambert Thiboust, a charming man who was +certainly not without talent. He thought I was just the ideal +actress for his heroine in <cite><span lang="fr">La bergère d’Ivry</span></cite>, but M. Faille, an old +actor, who had just become manager of the Ambigu Theatre, +was not the only person to consult, for a certain M. de Chilly +had some interest in the theatre. De Chilly had made his name +in the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Rodin in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Juif errant</span></cite>, and after marrying a +rather wealthy wife, had left the stage, and was now interested +in the business side of theatrical affairs. He had, I think, just +given the Ambigu up to Faille.</p> + +<p class='c013'>De Chilly was then helping on a charming girl named Laurence +Gérard. She was gentle and very <i><span lang="fr">bourgeoise</span></i>, rather pretty, but +without any real beauty or grace.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Faille told Lambert Thiboust that he was negotiating with +Laurence Gérard, but that he was ready to do as the author +wished in the matter. The only thing he stipulated was that +he should hear me before deciding. I was willing to humour +the poor fellow, who must have been as poor a manager as he +had been an artiste. I gave a short performance for him at +the Ambigu Theatre. The stage was only lighted by the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>wretched <i><span lang="fr">servante</span></i>, a little transportable lamp. About a yard +in front of me I could see M. Faille balancing himself on his +chair, one hand on his waistcoat and the fingers of the other +hand in his enormous nostrils. This disgusted me horribly. +Lambert Thiboust was seated near him, his handsome face +smiling as he looked at me encouragingly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had selected <cite><span lang="fr">On ne badine pas avec l’amour</span></cite>; I did not want +to recite verse, because I was to perform in a play in prose. I +believe I was perfectly charming, and Lambert Thiboust +thought so too, but when I had finished poor Faille got up in +a clumsy, pretentious way, said something in a low voice to the +author, and took me to his office.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My child,” remarked the worthy but stupid manager, +“you are no good on the stage!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I resented this, but he continued:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no, no good,” and as the door then opened he +added, pointing to the new-comer, “here is M. de Chilly, +who was also listening to you, and he will say just the same as +I say.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. de Chilly nodded and shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Lambert Thiboust is mad,” he remarked. “No one ever saw +such a thin shepherdess!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He then rang the bell and told the boy to show in Mlle. +Laurence Gérard. I understood; and, without taking leave of +the two boors, I left the room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My heart was heavy, though, as I went back to the <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i>, +where I had left my hat. There I found Laurence Gérard, +but she was fetched away the next moment. I was standing +near her, and as I looked in the glass I was struck by the +contrast between us. She was plump, with a wide face and +magnificent black eyes; her nose was rather <i><span lang="fr">canaille</span></i>, her +mouth heavy, and there was a very ordinary look about her +generally. I was fair, slight, and frail-looking, like a reed, with +a long, pale face, blue eyes, a rather sad mouth and a general +look of distinction. This hasty vision consoled me for my +failure, and then, too, I felt that this Faille was a nonentity +and that de Chilly was common.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was destined to meet with them both again later in my +life: Chilly soon after, as manager at the Odéon, and Faille +twenty years later, in such a wretched condition that the tears +<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>came to my eyes when he appeared before me and begged me +to play for his benefit.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I beseech you,” said the poor man. “You will be the +only attraction at this performance, and I have only you to +count on for the receipts.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I shook hands with him. I do not know whether he +remembered our first interview and my “<i><span lang="fr">auditon</span></i>,” but I who +remembered it well only hope that he did not.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Five days later Mile. Debay was well again, and took her +<i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> as usual.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Before accepting an engagement at the Porte Saint Martin, +I wrote to Camille Doucet. The following day I received a +letter asking me to call at the Ministry. It was not without +some emotion that I went to see this kind man again. He +was standing up waiting for me when I was ushered into the +room. He held out his hands to me, and drew me gently +towards him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, what a terrible child!” he said, giving me a chair. +“Come now, you must be calmer. It will never do to waste all +these admirable gifts in voyages, escapades, and boxing people’s +ears.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was deeply moved by his kindness, and my eyes were full +of regret as I looked at him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Now, don’t cry, my dear child; don’t cry. Let us try and +find out how we are to make up for all this folly.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was silent for a moment, and then, opening a drawer, he +took out a letter. “Here is something which will perhaps save +us,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was a letter from Duquesnel, who had just been appointed +manager of the Odéon Theatre in conjunction with Chilly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“They ask me for some young artistes to make up the Odéon +company. Well, we must attend to this.” He got up, and, +accompanying me to the door, said as I went away, “We +shall succeed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went back home and began at once to rehearse all my <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i> +in Racine’s plays. I waited very anxiously for several days, +consoled by Madame Guérard, who succeeded in restoring my +confidence. Finally I received a letter, and went at once to the +Ministry. Camille Doucet received me with a beaming expression +on his face.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>“It’s settled,” he said. “Oh, but it has not been easy, +though,” he added. “You are very young, but very celebrated +already for your headstrong character. But I have pledged +my word that you will be as gentle as a young lamb.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, I will be gentle, I promise,” I replied, “if only out of +gratitude. But what am I to do?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here is a letter for Félix Duquesnel,” he replied; “he is +expecting you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thanked Camille Doucet heartily, and he then said, “I +shall see you again, less officially, at your aunt’s on Thursday. +I have received an invitation this morning to dine there, so +you will be able to tell me what Duquesnel says.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was then half-past ten in the morning. I went home to +put some pretty clothes on. I chose a dress the underskirt of +which was of canary yellow, the dress being of black silk with +the skirt scalloped round, and a straw conical-shaped hat +trimmed with corn, and black ribbon velvet under the chin. It +must have been delightfully mad looking. Arrayed in this +style, feeling very joyful and full of confidence, I went to call +on Félix Duquesnel. I waited a few moments in a little room, +very artistically furnished. A young man appeared, looking +very elegant. He was smiling and altogether charming. +I could not grasp the fact that this fair-haired, gay young +man would be my manager.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After a short conversation we agreed on every point we +touched.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come to the Odéon at two o’clock,” said Duquesnel, by way +of leave-taking, “and I will introduce you to my partner. I +ought to say it the other way round, according to society +etiquette,” he added, laughing, “but we are talking <i><span lang="fr">théâtre</span></i>” +(shop).</p> + +<p class='c013'>He came a few steps down the staircase with me, and stayed +there leaning over the balustrade to wish me good-bye.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At two o’clock precisely I was at the Odéon, and had to wait +an hour. I began to grind my teeth, and only the remembrance +of my promise to Camille Doucet prevented me from going +away.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally Duquesnel appeared and took me across to the +manager’s office.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You will now see the other ogre,” he said, and I pictured to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>myself the other ogre as charming as his partner. I was therefore greatly disappointed on seeing a very ugly little man, whom +I recognised as Chilly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He eyed me up and down most impolitely, and pretended not +to recognise me. He signed to me to sit down, and without a +word handed me a pen and showed me where to sign my name +on the paper before me. Madame Guérard interposed, laying +her hand on mine.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do not sign without reading it,” she said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you Mademoiselle’s mother?” he asked, looking +up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” she said, “but it is just as though I were.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, yes, you are right. Read it quickly,” he continued, +“and then sign or leave it alone, but be quick.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt the colour coming into my face, for this man was odious. +Duquesnel whispered to me, “There’s no ceremony about him, +but he’s a good fellow; don’t take offence.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I signed my contract and handed it to his ugly partner.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You know,” he remarked, “He is responsible for you. I +should not upon any account have engaged you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And if you had been alone, Monsieur,” I answered, “I should +not have signed, so we are quits.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went away at once, and hurried to my mother’s to tell her, +for I knew this would be a great joy for her. Then, that very +day, I set off with <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> to buy everything necessary +for furnishing my dressing-room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day I went to the convent in the Rue Notre +Dame des Champs to see my dear governess, Mlle. de Brabender. +She had been ill with acute rheumatism in all her limbs for +the last thirteen months. She had suffered so much that she +looked like a different person. She was lying in her little +white bed, a little white cap covering her hair; her big nose +was drawn with pain, her washed-out eyes seemed to have no +colour in them. Her formidable moustache alone bristled up +with constant spasms of pain. Besides all this she was so +strangely altered that I wondered what had caused the +change. I went nearer, and, bending down, kissed her gently. +I then gazed at her so inquisitively that she understood instinctively. +With her eyes she signed to me to look on the table +near her, and there in a glass I saw all my dear old friend’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>teeth. I put the three roses I had brought her in the glass, +and, kissing her again, I asked her forgiveness for my impertinent +curiosity. I left the convent with a very heavy heart, for the +Mother Superior told me in the garden that my beloved +Mlle. de Brabender could not live much longer. I therefore +went every day for a time to see my gentle old governess, +but as soon as the rehearsals commenced at the Odéon my +visits had to be less frequent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One morning about seven o’clock a message came from the +convent to fetch me in great haste, and I was present at the dear +woman’s death agony. Her face lighted up at the supreme +moment with such a holy look that I suddenly longed to die. I +kissed her hands, which were holding the crucifix, and they had +already turned cold. I asked to be allowed to be there when +she was placed in her coffin. On arriving at the convent the +next day, at the hour fixed, I found the sisters in such a state of +consternation that I was alarmed. What could have happened, I +wondered? They pointed to the door of the cell, without uttering +a word. The nuns were standing round the bed, on which +was the most extraordinary looking being imaginable. My poor +governess, lying rigid on her deathbed, had a man’s face. Her +moustache had grown longer, and she had a beard nearly +half an inch long. Her moustache and beard were sandy, +whilst the long hair framing her face was white. Her mouth, +without the support of the teeth, had sunk in so that her +nose fell on the sandy moustache. It was like a terrible and +ridiculous-looking mask, instead of the sweet face of my friend. +It was the mask of a man, whilst the little delicate hands were +those of a woman.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was an awe-struck expression in the eyes of the nuns, +in spite of the assurance of the nurse who had dressed the poor +dead body, and had declared to them that the body was that of +a woman. But the poor little sisters were trembling and crossing +themselves all the time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The day after this dismal ceremony I made my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> at the +Odéon in <cite><span lang="fr">Le jeu de l’amour et du hasard</span></cite>. I was not suited +for Marivaux’s plays, as they require a certain coquettishness +and an affectation which were not then and still are not among +my qualities. Then, too, I was rather too slight, so that I made +no success at all. Chilly happened to be passing along the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>corridor, just as Duquesnel was talking to me and encouraging +me. Chilly pointed to me and remarked:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Une flûte pour les gens du monde, il n’y a même pas +de mie.</span></i>”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was furious at the man’s insolence, and the blood rushed +to my face, but I saw through my half-closed eyes Camille +Doucet’s face, that face always so clean shaven and young-looking +under his crown of white hair. I thought it was a vision of +my mind, which was always on the alert, on account of the +promise I had made. But no, it was he himself, and he came up +to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What a pretty voice you have!” he said. “Your second +appearance will be such a pleasure for us!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This man was always courteous, but truthful. This <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> of +mine had not given him any pleasure, but he was counting +on my next appeai-ance, and he had spoken the truth. I had a +pretty voice, and that was all that any one could say from my +first trial.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remained at the Odéon, and worked very hard. I was +ready to take any one’s place at a moment’s notice, for I knew +all the <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i>. I made some success, and the students had a predilection +for me. When I came on to the stage I was always +greeted by applause from these young men. A few old sticklers +used to turn towards the pit and try and command silence, but +no one cared a straw for them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally my day of triumph dawned. Duquesnel had the +happy idea of putting <cite>Athalie</cite> on again, with Mendelssohn’s +choruses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Beauvallet, who had been odious as a professor, was charming +as a comrade. By special permission from the Ministry he was +to play Joad. The <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Zacharie was assigned to me. Some +of the Conservatoire pupils were to take the spoken choruses, +and the female pupils who studied singing undertook the musical +part. The rehearsals were so bad that Duquesnel and Chilly +were in despair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Beauvallet, who was more agreeable now, but not choice +in his language, muttered some terrible words. We began over +and over again, but it was all to no purpose. The spoken +choruses were simply abominable. When suddenly Chilly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>“Well, let the young one say all the spoken choruses. They +will be right enough with her pretty voice!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Duquesnel did not utter a word, but he pulled his moustache +to hide a smile. Chilly was coming round to his <i><span lang="fr">protégée</span></i> after +all. He nodded his head in an indifferent way, in answer to his +partner’s questioning look, and we began again, I reading +all the spoken choruses. Every one applauded, and the conductor +of the orchestra was delighted, for the poor man had +suffered enough. The first performance was a veritable little +triumph for me! Oh, quite a little one, but still full of +promise for my future. The audience, charmed with the sweetness +of my voice and its crystal purity, encored the part of +the spoken choruses, and I was rewarded by three rounds of +applause.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the end of the act Chilly came to me and said, “<em>Thou</em> art +adorable!” His <em>thou</em> rather annoyed me, but I answered mischievously, +using the same form of speech:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<em>Thou</em> findest me fatter?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He burst into a fit of laughter, and from that day forth we +both used the familiar <em>thou</em> and became the best friends +imaginable.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that Odéon Theatre! It is the theatre I loved most. +I was very sorry to leave it, for every one liked each other there, +and every one was gay. The theatre is a little like the continuation +of school. The young artistes came there, and Duquesnel was +an intelligent manager, and very polite and young himself. During +rehearsal we often went off, several of us together, to play ball +in the Luxembourg, during the acts in which we were not “on.” I +used to think of my few months at the Comédie Française. The +little world I had known there had been stiff, scandal-mongering, +and jealous. I recalled my few months at the Gymnase. +Hats and dresses were always discussed there, and every one +chattered about a hundred things that had nothing to do with +art.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the Odéon I was happy. We thought of nothing but +putting plays on, and we rehearsed morning, afternoon, and at +all hours, and I liked that very much.</p> + +<p class='c013'>For the summer I had taken a little house in the Villa Montmorency +at Auteuil. I went to the theatre in a <i><span lang="fr">petit duc</span></i>, +which I drove myself. I had two wonderful ponies that Aunt +<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>Rosine had given to me because they had very nearly broken +her neck by taking fright at St. Cloud at a whirligig of wooden +horses. I used to drive at full speed along the quays, and +in spite of the atmosphere brilliant with the July sunshine, and +the gaiety of everything outside, I always ran up the cold +cracked steps of the theatre with veritable joy, and rushed up to +my dressing-room, wishing every one I passed good morning +on my way. When I had taken off my coat and gloves I went +on to the stage, delighted to be once more in that infinite darkness +with only a poor light (a <i><span lang="fr">servante</span></i> hanging here and there +on a tree, a turret, a wall, or placed on a bench) thrown on the +faces of the artistes for a few seconds.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was nothing more vivifying for me than that atmosphere, +full of microbes, nothing more gay than that obscurity, +and nothing more brilliant than that darkness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day my mother had the curiosity to come behind the +scenes. I thought she would have died with horror and disgust. +“Oh, you poor child,” she murmured, “how can you live in +that!” When once she was outside again she began to breathe +freely, taking long gasps several times. Oh yes, I could live +in it, and I really only lived well in it. Since then I have +changed a little, but I still have a great liking for that gloomy +workshop in which we joyous lapidaries of art cut the precious +stones supplied to us by the poets.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The days passed by, carrying away with them all our little +disappointed hopes, and fresh days dawned bringing fresh +dreams, so that life seemed to me eternal happiness. I played +in turn in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Marquis de Villemer</span></cite> and <cite><span lang="fr">François le Champi</span></cite>. In +the former I took the part of the foolish baroness, an expert +woman of thirty-five years of age. I was scarcely twenty-one +myself, and I looked seventeen. In the second piece I played +Mariette, and made a great success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Those rehearsals of the <cite><span lang="fr">Marquis de Villemer</span></cite> and <cite><span lang="fr">François le +Champi</span></cite> have remained in my memory as so many exquisite +hours. Madame George Sand was a sweet, charming creature, +extremely timid. She did not talk much, but smoked all the +time. Her large eyes were always dreamy, and her mouth, +which was rather heavy and common, had the kindest expression. +She had perhaps had a medium-sized figure, but she was no +longer upright. I used to watch her with the most romantic +affection, for had she not been the heroine of a fine love +romance!</p> +<div id='i128fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i128fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT IN<br> <cite><span lang="fr">FRANÇOIS LE CHAMPI</span></cite></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>I used to sit down by her, and when I took her hand in mine +I held it as long as possible. Her voice, too, was gentle and +fascinating.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Prince Napoleon, commonly known as “Plon-Plon,” often +used to come to George Sand’s rehearsals. He was extremely +fond of her. The first time I ever saw that man I turned pale, +and felt as though my heart had stopped beating. He looked +so much like Napoleon I. that I disliked him for it. By +resembling him it seemed to me that he made him seem less +far away, and brought him nearer to every one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Sand introduced me to him, in spite of my wishes. +He looked at me in an impertinent way: he displeased me. I +scarcely replied to his compliments, and went closer to George +Sand.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why, she is in love with you!” he exclaimed, laughing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>George Sand stroked my cheek gently.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She is my little Madonna,” she answered; “do not torment +her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stayed with her, casting displeased and furtive glances at +the Prince. Gradually, though, I began to enjoy listening +to him, for his conversation was brilliant, serious, and at the +same time witty. He sprinkled his discourses and his replies +with words that were a trifle crude, but all that he said was +interesting and instructive. He was not very indulgent, though, +and I have heard him say base, horrible things about little +Thiers which I believe had little truth in them. He drew such +an amusing portrait one day of that agreeable Louis Bouilhet, +that George Sand, who liked him, could not help laughing, +although she called the Prince a bad man. He was very +unceremonious, too, but at the same time he did not like people +to be wanting in respect to him. One day an artiste, named +Paul Deshayes, who was playing in <cite><span lang="fr">François le Champi</span></cite>, came +into the green-room. Prince Napoleon, Madame George Sand, +the curator of the library, whose name I have forgotten, and +myself were there. This artiste was common, and something +of an anarchist. He bowed to Madame Sand, and addressing +the Prince, said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are sitting on my gloves, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>The Prince scarcely moved, pulled the gloves out, and, +throwing them on the floor, remarked, “I thought this seat was +clean.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The actor coloured, picked up the gloves, and went away, +murmuring some revolutionary threat.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I played the part of Hortense in <cite><span lang="fr">Le testament de César</span></cite>, +by Girodot, and of Anna Danby in Alexandre Dumas’s <cite>Kean</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the evening of the first performance of the latter piece<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c019'><sup>[1]</sup></a> +the audience was most aggravating. Dumas <i><span lang="fr">père</span></i> was quite out +of favour on account of a private matter that had nothing to do +with art. Politics for some time past had been exciting every +one, and the return of Victor Hugo from exile was very much +desired. When Dumas entered his box he was greeted by yells. +The students were there in full force, and they began shouting +for <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>. Dumas rose and asked to be allowed to speak. +“My young friends,” he began, as soon as there was silence. +“We are quite willing to listen,” called out some one, “but you +must be alone in your box.”</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c013'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. February 18, 1868.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>Dumas protested vehemently. Several persons in the +orchestra took his side, for he had invited a lady into his +box, and whoever that lady might be, no one had any right +to insult her in so outrageous a manner. I had never yet +witnessed a scene of this kind. I looked through the hole in +the curtain, and was very much interested and excited. I saw +our great Dumas, pale with anger, clenching his fists, shouting, +swearing, and storming. Then suddenly there was a burst of +applause. The woman had disappeared from the box. She +had taken advantage of the moment when Dumas, leaning well +over the front of the box, was answering, “No, no, this lady +shall not leave the box!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Just at this moment she slipped away, and the whole house, +delighted, shouted, “Bravo!” Dumas was then allowed to +continue, but only for a few seconds. Cries of “<cite>Ruy Blas! +Ruy Blas!</cite> Victor Hugo! Hugo!” could then be heard again +in the midst of an infernal uproar. We had been ready to +commence the play for an hour, and I was greatly excited. +Chilly and Duquesnel then came to us on the stage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Courage, mes enfants</span></i>, for the house has gone mad,” they +said. “We will commence anyhow, let what will happen.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>“I’m afraid I shall faint,” I said to Duquesnel. My hands +were as cold as ice, and my heart was beating wildly. “What +am I to do,” I asked him, “if I get too frightened?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There’s nothing to be done,” he replied. “Be frightened, +but go on playing, and don’t faint upon any account!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The curtain was drawn up in the midst of a veritable tempest, +bird cries, cat-calls, and a heavy rhythmical refrain of “<cite>Ruy +Blas! Ruy Blas!</cite> Victor Hugo! Victor Hugo!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My turn came. Berton <i><span lang="fr">père</span></i>, who was playing Kean, had +been received badly. I was wearing the eccentric costume of +an Englishwoman in the year 1820. As soon as I appeared I +heard a burst of laughter, and I stood still, rooted to the spot +in the doorway. At the very same instant the cheers of my +dear friends the students drowned the laughter of the aggravators. +This gave me courage, and I even felt a desire to +fight. But it was not necessary, for after the second endlessly +long harangue, in which I give an idea of my love for Kean, +the house was delighted, and gave me an ovation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ignotus” wrote the following paragraph in the <cite>Figaro</cite>:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt appeared wearing an eccentric costume +which increased the tumult, but her rich voice, that astonishing +voice of hers, appealed to the public, and she charmed them like +a little Orpheus.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>After <cite>Kean</cite> I played in <cite><span lang="fr">La loterie du mariage</span></cite>. When we +were rehearsing the piece, Agar came up to me one day, in the +corner where I usually sat. I had a little arm-chair there from +my dressing-room, and put my feet up on a straw chair. I +liked this place, because there was a little gas-burner there, and +I could work whilst waiting for my turn to go on the stage. I +loved embroidery and tapestry work. I had a quantity of +different kinds of fancy work commenced, and could take up one +or the other as I felt inclined.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Agar was an admirable creature. She had evidently +been created for the joy of the eyes. She was a brunette, tall, +pale, with large, dark, gentle eyes, a very small mouth with full +rounded lips, which went up at the corners with an imperceptible +smile. She had exquisite teeth, and her head was covered with +thick, glossy hair. She was the living incarnation of one of the +most beautiful types of ancient Greece. Her pretty hands were +long and rather soft, whilst her slow and rather heavy walk +<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>completed the illusion. She was the great <i><span lang="fr">tragédienne</span></i> of the +Odéon Theatre. She approached me, with her measured tread, +followed by a young man of from twenty-four to twenty-six +years of age.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, my dear,” she said, kissing me, “there is a chance for +you to make a poet happy!” She then introduced François +Coppée. I invited the young man to sit down, and then I +looked at him more thoroughly. His handsome face, emaciated +and pale, was that of the immortal Bonaparte. A thrill of +emotion went through me, for I adore Napoleon I.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you a poet, Monsieur?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Mademoiselle.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>His voice, too, trembled, for he was still more timid than I +was.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I have written a little piece,” he continued, “and Mlle. +Agar is sure that you will play it with her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, my dear,” put in Agar, “you are going to play it for +him. It is a little masterpiece, and I am sure you will make a +gigantic success.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, and you too. You will be so beautiful in it!” said the +poet, gazing rapturously at Agar.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was called on to the stage just at this moment, and on +returning a few minutes later I found the young poet talking in +a low voice to the beautiful <i><span lang="fr">tragédienne</span></i>. I coughed, and Agar, +who had taken my arm-chair, wanted to give it me back. On +my refusing it she pulled me down on to her lap. The young +man drew up his chair and we chatted away together, our three +heads almost touching. It was decided that after reading the +piece I should show it to Duquesnel, who alone was capable of +judging poetry, and that we should then get permission from +both managers to play it at a benefit that was to take place +after our next production.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The young man was delighted, and his pale face lighted up +with a grateful smile as he shook hands excitedly. Agar walked +away with him as far as the little landing which projected over +the stage. I watched them as they went, the magnificent statue-like +woman and the slender outline of the young writer. Agar +was perhaps thirty-five at that time. She was certainly very +beautiful, but to me there was no charm about her, and I could +not understand why this poetical Bonaparte was in love with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>this matronly woman. It was as clear as daylight that he was, +and she too appeared to be in love. This interested me infinitely. +I watched them clasp each other’s hands, and then, with an abrupt +and almost awkward movement, the young poet bent over the +beautiful hand he was holding and kissed it fervently.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Agar came back to me with a faint colour in her cheeks. +This was rare with her, for she had a marble-like complexion. +“Here is the manuscript!” she said, giving me a little roll of +paper.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The rehearsal was over, and I wished Agar good-bye, and on +my way home read the piece. I was so delighted with it that I +drove straight back to the theatre to give it to Duquesnel at +once. I met him coming downstairs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do come back again, please!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good heavens, my dear girl, what is the matter?” he +asked. “You look as though you have won a big lottery +prize.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, it is something like that,” I said, and entering his +office, I produced the manuscript,</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Read this, please,” I continued.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I’ll take it with me,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no, read it here at once!” I insisted. “Shall I read it +to you?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no,” he replied; “your voice is treacherous. It makes +charming poetry of the worst lines possible. Well, let me have +it,” he continued, sitting down in his arm-chair. He began to +read whilst I looked at the newspapers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s delicious!” he soon exclaimed. “It’s a perfect masterpiece.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sprang to my feet in joy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you will get Chilly to accept it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, you can make your mind easy. But when do you +want to play it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, the author seems to be in a great hurry,” I said, “and +Agar too.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you as well,” he put in, laughing, “for this is a <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> +that just suits your fancy.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, my dear ‘<i><span lang="fr">Duq</span></i>,’” I acknowledged. “I too want it put +on at once. Do you want to be very nice?” I added. “If +so, let us have it for the benefit of Madame —— in a fortnight +<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>from now. That would not make any difference to other +arrangements, and our poet would be so happy.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good!” said Duquesnel, “I will settle it like that. What +about the scenery, though?” he muttered meditatively, biting +his nails, which were then his favourite meal when disturbed in +his mind.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had already thought that out, so I offered to drive him +home, and on the way I put my plan before him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We might have the scenery of <cite>Jeanne de Ligneris</cite>, a piece that +had been put on and taken off again immediately, after being +jeered at by the public. The scenery consisted of a superb +Italian park, with flowers, statues, and even a flight of steps. +As to costumes, if we spoke of them to Chilly, no matter how +little they might cost he would shriek, as he had done in his +<i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Rodin. Agar and I would supply our own costumes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I arrived at Duquesnel’s house, he asked me to go in and +discuss the costumes with his wife. I accepted his invitation, +and, after kissing the prettiest face one could possibly dream of, +I told its owner about our plot. She approved of everything, +and promised to begin at once to look out for pretty +designs for our costumes. Whilst she was talking I compared +her with Agar. Oh, how much I preferred that charming head, +with its fair hair, those large, limpid eyes, and the face, with +its two little pink dimples. Her hair was soft and light, +and formed a halo round her forehead. I admired, too, her +delicate wrists, finishing with the loveliest hands imaginable, +hands that were later on quite famous.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On leaving my two friends I drove straight to Agar’s to +tell her what had happened. She kissed me over and over again, +and a cousin of hers, a priest, who happened to be there, appeared +to be very delighted with my story. He seemed to know about +everything. Presently there was a timid ring at the bell, and +François Coppée was announced.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am just going away,” I said to him, as I met him in the +doorway and shook hands. “Agar will tell you everything.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XIV<br> <span class='large'>LE PASSANT—AT THE TUILERIES—FIRE IN MY FLAT</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The rehearsals of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite> commenced very soon after +this, and were delightful, for the timid young poet was a +most interesting and intelligent talker.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The first performance took place as arranged, and <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite> +was a veritable triumph. The whole house cheered over and +over again, and Agar and myself had eight curtain calls. +We tried in vain to bring the author forward, as the audience +wished to see him. François Coppée was not to be found. The +young poet, hitherto unknown, had become famous within a few +hours. His name was on all lips. As for Agar and myself, we +were simply overwhelmed with praise, and Chilly wanted to pay +for our costumes. We played this one-act piece more than a +hundred times consecutively to full houses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were asked to give it at the Tuileries, and at the house +of Princess Mathilde.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that first performance at the Tuileries! It is stamped +on my brain for ever, and with my eyes shut I can see every +detail again even now. It had been arranged between +Duquesnel and the official sent from the Court that Agar and +I should go to the Tuileries to see the room where we were +to play, in order to have it arranged according to the requirements +of the piece. Count de Laferrière was to introduce me +to the Emperor, who would then introduce me to the Empress +Eugénie. Agar was to be introduced by Princess Mathilde, to +whom she was then sitting as Minerva.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. de Laferrière came for me at nine o’clock in a state carriage, +and Madame Guérard accompanied me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. de Laferrière was a very agreeable man, with rather stiff +<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>manners. As we were turning round the Rue Royale the +carriage had to draw up an instant, and General Fleury approached +us. I knew him, as he had been introduced to me by +Morny. He spoke to us, and Comte de Laferrière explained +where we were going. As he left us he said to me, “Good luck!” +Just at that moment a man who was passing by took up the +words and called out, “Good luck, perhaps, but not for long, +you crowd of good-for-nothings!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving at the Palace we all three got out of the carriage, +and were shown into a small yellow drawing-room on the ground +floor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I will go and inform his Majesty that you are here,” said +M. de Laferrière, leaving us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When alone with Madame Guérard I thought I would rehearse +my three curtseys.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame</span></i>,” I said, “tell me whether they are right.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I made the curtseys, murmuring, “Sire ... Sire ...” I +began over again several times, looking down at my dress as +I said “Sire ...” when suddenly I heard a stifled laugh.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stood up quickly, furious with Madame Guérard, but +I saw that she too was bent over in a half circle. I turned +round quickly, and behind me—was the Emperor. He +was clapping his hands silently and laughing quietly, but still +he <em>was</em> laughing. My face flushed, and I was embarrassed, for +I wondered how long he had been there. I had been curtseying +I do not know how many times, trying to get my reverence +right, and saying, “There ... that’s too low.... There; is +that right, Guérard?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good Heavens!” I now said to myself. “Has he heard it +all?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>In spite of my confusion, I now made my curtsey again, but +the Emperor said, smiling:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh! no; it could not be better than it was just now. +Save them for the Empress, who is expecting you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that “just now.” I wondered when it had been?</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could not question Madame Guérard, as she was following +at some distance with M. de Laferrière. The Emperor +was at my side, talking to me of a hundred things, but I could +only answer in an absent-minded way, on account of that “just +now.”</p> +<div id='i136fp' class='figcenter id006'> +<img src='images/i136fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic001'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT IN A FANCY COSTUME<br> <br> <span class='sc'>By Walter Spindler</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>I liked him much better thus, quite near, than in his +portraits. He had such fine eyes, which he half closed whilst +looking through his long lashes. His smile was sad and rather +mocking. His face was pale and his voice faint, but seductive.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We found the Empress seated in a large arm-chair. Her +body was sheathed in a grey dress, and seemed to have been +moulded into the material. I thought her very beautiful. +She too was more beautiful than her portraits. I made my +three curtseys under the laughing eyes of the Emperor. The +Empress spoke, and the spell was then broken. That rough, +hard voice coming from that brilliant woman gave me a +shock.</p> + +<p class='c013'>From that moment I felt ill at ease with her, in spite of her +graciousness and her kindness. As soon as Agar arrived and +had been introduced, the Empress had us conducted to the +large drawing-room, where the performance was to take place. +The measurements were taken for the platform, and there was +to be the flight of steps where Agar had to pose as the unhappy courtesan cursing mercenary love and longing for ideal +love.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This flight of steps was quite a problem. They were +supposed to represent the first three steps of a huge flight +leading up to a Florentine palace, and had to be half hidden in +some way. I asked for some shrubs, flowers and plants, which +I arranged along the three steps.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Prince Imperial, who had come in, was then about +thirteen years of age. He helped me to arrange the plants, and +laughed wildly when Agar mounted the steps to try the effect. +He was delicious, with his magnificent eyes with heavy lids like +those of his mother, and with his father’s long eyelashes. He +was witty like the Emperor, whom people surnamed “Louis the +Imbecile,” and who certainly had the most refined, subtle, and +at the same time the most generous wit.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We arranged everything as well as we could, and it was +decided that we should return two days later for a rehearsal +before their Majesties.</p> + +<p class='c013'>How gracefully the Prince Imperial asked permission to be +present at the rehearsal! His request was granted, and the +Empress then took leave of us in the most charming manner, +but her voice was very ugly. She told the two ladies who were +<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>with her to give us wine and biscuits, and to show us over the +Palace if we wished to see it. I did not care much about this, +but <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> and Agar seemed so delighted at the offer +that I gave in to them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I have regretted ever since that I did so, for nothing could +have been uglier than the private rooms, with the exception of +the Emperor’s study and the staircases. This inspection of the +Palace bored me terribly. A few of the pictures consoled me, +and I stayed some time gazing at Winterhalter’s portrait +representing the Empress Eugénie. She looked beautiful, and +I thanked Heaven that the portrait could not speak, for it +served to explain and justify the wonderful good luck of her +Majesty.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The rehearsal took place without any special incident. The +young Prince did his utmost to prove to us his gratitude and +delight, for we had made it a dress rehearsal on his account, +as he was not to be present at the <i><span lang="fr">soirée</span></i>. He sketched my +costume, and intended to have it copied for a <i><span lang="fr">bal déguisé</span></i> which +was to be given for the Imperial child. Our performance was +in honour of the Queen of Holland, accompanied by the Prince +of Orange, commonly known in Paris as “Prince Citron.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A rather amusing incident occurred during the evening. The +Empress had remarkably small feet, and in order to make them +look still smaller she encased them in shoes that were too narrow. +She looked wonderfully beautiful that night, with her pretty +sloping shoulders emerging from a dress of pale blue satin +embroidered with silver. On her lovely hair she was wearing a +little diadem of turquoises and diamonds, and her small feet +were on a cushion of silver brocade. All through Coppée’s +piece my eyes wandered frequently to this cushion, and I saw +the two little feet moving restlessly about. Finally I saw one +of the shoes pushing its little brother very, very gently, and +then I saw the heel of the Empress come out of its prison. The +foot was then only covered at the toe, and I was very anxious to +know how it would get back, for under such circumstances the +foot swells, and cannot go into a shoe that is too narrow. +When the piece was over we were recalled twice, and as it was +the Empress who started the applause, I thought she was +putting off the moment for getting up, and I saw her pretty +little sore foot trying in vain to get back into its shoe. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>curtains were drawn, and as I had told Agar about the cushion +drama, we watched through them its various phases.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Emperor rose, and every one followed his example. He +offered his arm to the Queen of Holland, but she looked at the +Empress, who had not yet risen. The Emperor’s face lighted +up with that smile which I had already seen. He said a word +to General Fleury, and immediately the generals and other +officers on duty, who were seated behind the sovereigns, formed +a rampart between the crowd and the Empress. The Emperor +and the Queen of Holland then passed on, without appearing to +have noticed her Majesty’s distress, and the Prince of Orange, +with one knee on the ground, helped the beautiful sovereign to +put on her Cinderella-like slipper. I saw that the Empress +leaned more heavily on the Prince’s arm than she would have +liked, for her pretty foot was evidently rather painful.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were then sent for to be complimented, and we were +surrounded and fêted so much that we were delighted with our +evening.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite> and the prodigious success of that adorable +piece, a success in which Agar and I had our share, Chilly +thought more of me, and began to like me. He insisted on +paying for our costumes, which was great extravagance for him. +I had become the adored queen of the students, and I used +to receive little bouquets of violets, sonnets, and long, long +poems—too long to read. Sometimes on arriving at the +theatre as I was getting out of my carriage I received a shower +of flowers which simply covered me, and I was delighted, and +used to thank my worshippers. The only thing was that their +admiration blinded them, so that when in some pieces I was not +so good, and the house was rather chary of applause, my little +army of students would be indignant and would cheer wildly, +without rhyme or reason. I can understand quite well that this +used to exasperate the regular subscribers of the Odéon, who +were very kindly disposed towards me nevertheless, as they too +used to spoil me, but they would have liked me to be more +humble and meek, and less headstrong. How many times one +or another of these old subscribers would come and give me +a word of advice. “Mademoiselle, you were charming in <cite>Junie</cite>,” +one of them observed; “but you bite your lips, and the Roman +women never did that!”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>“My dear girl,” another said, “you were delicious in <cite><span lang="fr">François +le Champi</span></cite>, but there is not a single Breton woman in the whole +of Brittany with her hair curled.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A professor from the Sorbonne said to me one day rather +curtly, “It is a want of respect, Mademoiselle, to turn your +back on the public!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, Monsieur,” I replied, “I was accompanying an old +lady to a door at the back of the stage. I could not walk along +with her backwards.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The artistes we had before you, Mademoiselle, who were +quite as talented as you, if not more so, had a way of going +across the stage without turning their back on the public.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And he turned quickly on his heel and was going away, when +I stopped him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Monsieur, will you go to that door, through which you +intended to pass, without turning your back on me?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He made an attempt, and then, furious, turned his back on +me and disappeared, slamming the door after him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I lived some time at 16 Rue Auber, in a flat on the first floor, +which was rather a nice one. I had furnished it with old Dutch +furniture which my grandmother had sent me. My godfather +advised me to insure against fire, as this furniture, he told +me, constituted a small fortune. I decided to follow his advice, +and asked <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> to take the necessary steps for me. A +few days later she told me that some one would call about it +on the 12th.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the day in question, towards two o’clock, a gentleman +called, but I was in an extremely nervous condition, and said: +“No, I must be left alone to-day. I do not wish to see any +one.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had refused to be disturbed, and had shut myself up in my +bedroom in a frightfully depressed state.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That same evening I received a letter from the fire insurance +company, La Foncière, asking which day their agent might call +to have the agreement signed. I replied that he might come +on Saturday.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On Friday I was so utterly wretched that I sent to ask my +mother to come and lunch with me. I was not playing that +day, as I never used to perform on Tuesdays and Fridays, days +on which répertoire plays only were given. As I was playing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>every other day in new pieces, it was feared that I should be +over-tired.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother on arriving thought I looked very pale.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” I replied. “I do not know what is the matter with +me, but I am in a very nervous state and most depressed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The governess came to fetch my little boy, to take him out +for a walk, but I would not let him go.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no!” I exclaimed. “The child must not leave me +to-day. I am afraid of something happening.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>What happened was fortunately of a less serious nature than, +with my love for my family, I was dreading.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had my grandmother living with me at that time, and she +was blind. It was the grandmother who had given me most of +my furniture. She was a spectral-looking woman, and her +beauty was of a cold, hard type. She was very tall indeed, six +feet, but she looked like a giantess. She was thin and very +upright, and her long arms were always stretched in front of +her, feeling for all the objects in her way, so that she might +not knock herself, although she was always accompanied by the +nurse whom I had engaged for her. Above this long body was +her little face, with two immense pale blue eyes, which were +always open, even when asleep at night. She was generally +dressed from head to foot in grey, and this neutral colour gave +something unreal to her general appearance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother, after trying to comfort me, went away about two +o’clock. My grandmother, seated opposite me in her large +Voltaire arm-chair, questioned me:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What are you afraid of?” she asked. “Why are you so +mournful? I have not heard you laugh all day.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not answer, but looked at my grandmother. It seemed +to me that the trouble I was dreading would come through her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you not there?” she insisted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, I am here,” I answered; “but please do not talk to me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She did not utter another word, but with her two hands on +her lap sat there for hours. I sketched her strange, fatidical +face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It began to grow dusk, and I thought I would go and dress, +after being present at the meal taken by my grandmother and +the child. My friend Rose Baretta was dining with me that +evening, and I had also invited a most charming and witty man, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>Charles Haas. Arthur Meyer came too. He was a young +journalist already very much in vogue. I told them about my +forebodings with regard to that day, and begged them not to +leave me before midnight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“After that,” I said, “it will not be to-day, and the wicked +spirits who are watching me will have missed their chance.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>They agreed to humour my fancy, and Arthur Meyer, who +was to have gone to some first night at one of the theatres, +remained with us. Dinner was more animated than luncheon had +been, and it was nine o’clock when we left the table. Rose Baretta +sang us some delightful old songs. I went away for a minute to +see that all was right in my grandmother’s room. I found my +maid with her head wrapped up in cloths soaked in sedative +water. I asked what was the matter, and she said that she had +a terrible headache. I told her to prepare my bath and everything +for me for the night, and then to go to bed. She thanked +me, and obeyed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went back to the drawing-room, and, sitting down to the +piano, played “Il Bacio,” Mendelssohn’s “Bells,” and Weber’s +“Last Thought.” I had not come to the end of this last +melody when I stopped, suddenly hearing in the street cries of +“Fire! Fire!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“They are shouting ‘Fire!’” exclaimed Arthur Meyer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That’s all the same to me,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. +“It is not midnight yet, and I am expecting my own misfortune.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Charles Haas had opened the drawing-room window to see +where the shouts were coming from. He stepped out on to the +balcony, and then came quickly in again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The fire is here!” he exclaimed. “Look!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I rushed to the window, and saw the flames coming from the +two windows of my bedroom. I ran back through the drawing-room +in to the corridor, and then to the room where my child +was sleeping with his governess and his nurse. They were all +fast asleep. Arthur Meyer opened the hall door, the bell of +which was being rung violently. I roused the two women quickly, +wrapped the sleeping child in his blankets, and rushed to the +door with my precious burden. I then ran downstairs, and, +crossing the street, took him to Guadacelli’s chocolate shop +opposite, just at the corner of the Rue Caumartin.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>The kind man took my little slumberer in and let him lie on +a couch, where the child continued his sleep without any break. +I left him in charge of his governess and his nurse, and went +quickly back to the flaming house. The firemen, who had been +sent for, had not yet arrived, and at all costs I was determined +to rescue my poor grandmother. It was impossible to go back +up the principal staircase, as it was filled with smoke.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Charles Haas, bareheaded and in evening dress, a flower +in his button-hole, started with me up the narrow back staircase. +We were soon on the first floor, but when once there my +knees shook; it seemed as thought my heart had stopped, +and I was seized with despair. The kitchen door, at the top of +the first flight of stairs, was locked with a triple turn of the key. +My amiable companion was tall, slight, and elegant, but not +strong. I besought him to go down and fetch a hammer, +a hatchet, or something, but just at that moment, a new-comer +wrenched the door open by a violent plunge with his +shoulder against it. This new arrival was no other than M. +Sohège, a friend of mine. He was a most charming and excellent +man, a broad-shouldered Alsatian, well known in Paris, very +lively and kind, and always ready to do any one a service. I +took my friends to my grandmother’s room. She was sitting up +in bed, out of breath with calling Catherine, the servant who +waited upon her. This maid was about twenty-five years of age, +a big, strapping girl from Burgundy, and she was now sleeping +peacefully, in spite of the uproar in the street, the noise of the +fire-engines, which had arrived at last, and the wild shrieks of +the occupants of the house. Sohège shook the maid, whilst I +explained to my grandmother the reason of the tumult and why +we were in her room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very good,” she said; and then she added calmly, “Will +you give me the box, Sarah, that you will find at the bottom of +the wardrobe? The key of it is here.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, grandmother,” I exclaimed, “the smoke is beginning to +come in here. We have not any time to lose.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, do as you like. I shall not leave without my box!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>With the help of Charles Haas and of Arthur Meyer we put +my grandmother on Sohège’s back in spite of herself. He was +of medium height, and she was extremely tall, so that her long +legs touched the ground, and I was afraid she might get them +<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>injured. Sohège therefore took her in his arms, and Charles +Haas carried her legs. We then set off, but the smoke stifled +us, and after descending about ten stairs I fell down in a faint.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I came to myself I was in my mother’s bed. My little +boy was asleep in my sister’s room, and my grandmother was +installed in a large arm-chair. She sat bolt upright, frowning, +and with an angry expression on her lips. She did not trouble +about anything but her box, until at last my mother was angry, +and reproached her in Dutch with only caring for herself. She +answered excitedly, and her neck craned forward as though to +help her head to peer through the perpetual darkness which +surrounded her. Her thin body, wrapped in an Indian shawl +of many colours, the hissing of her strident words, which flowed +freely, all contributed to make her resemble a serpent in some +terrible nightmare. My mother did not like this woman, who +had married my grandfather when he had six big children, the +eldest of whom was sixteen and the youngest, my uncle, five +years. This second wife had never had any children of her own, +and had been indifferent, even harsh, towards those of her +husband; and consequently she was not liked in the family. I +had taken charge of her because small-pox had broken out in +the family with whom she had been boarding. She had then +wished to stay with me, and I had not had courage enough to +oppose her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the occasion of the fire, though, I considered she behaved +so badly that a strong dislike to her came over me, and I +resolved not to keep her with me. News of the fire was +brought to us. It continued to rage, and burnt everything in +my flat, absolutely everything, even to the very last book in my +library. My greatest sorrow was that I had lost a magnificent +portrait of my mother by Bassompierre Severin, a pastelist very +much <i><span lang="fr">à la mode</span></i> under the Empire; an oil portrait of my +father, and a very pretty pastel of my sister Jeanne. I had +not much jewellery, and all that was found of the bracelet given +to me by the Emperor was a huge shapeless mass, which I still +have. I had a very pretty diadem, set with diamonds and +pearls, given to me by Kalil Bey after a performance at his +house. The ashes of this had to be sifted in order to find the +stones. The diamonds were there, but the pearls had melted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was absolutely ruined, for the money that my father and his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>mother had left me I had spent in furniture, curiosities, and a +hundred other useless things, which were the delight of my +life. I had, too, and I own it was absurd, a tortoise named +Chrysagère. Its back was covered with a shell of gold set with +very small blue, pink, and yellow topazes. Oh, how beautiful +it was, and how droll! It used to wander round my flat, +accompanied by a smaller tortoise named Zerbinette, which was +its servant, and I used to amuse myself for hours watching +Chrysagère, flashing with a hundred lights under the rays of the +sun or the moon. Both my tortoises died in this fire.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Duquesnel, who was very kind to me at that time, came to see +me a few weeks later, for he had just received a summons from +La Foncière, the fire insurance company, whose papers I +had refused to sign the day before the catastrophe. The +company claimed a heavy sum of money from me for damages +done to the house itself. The second storey was almost entirely +destroyed, and for many months the whole building had to +be propped up. I did not possess the 40,000 francs claimed. +Duquesnel offered to give a benefit performance for me, which +would, he said, free me from all difficulties. De Chilly was +very willing to agree to anything that would be of service to me. +The benefit was a wonderful success, thanks to the presence of +the adorable Adelina Patti. The young singer, who was then +the Marquise de Caux, had never before sung at a benefit +performance, and it was Arthur Meyer who brought me the +news that “La Patti” was going to sing for me. Her husband +came during the afternoon to tell me how glad she was of this +opportunity of proving to me her sympathy. As soon as the +“fairy bird” was announced, every seat in the house was promptly +taken at prices which were higher than those originally fixed. +She had no reason to regret her friendly action, for never was +any triumph more complete. The students greeted her with +three cheers as she came on the stage. She was a little surprised +at this noise of bravos in rhythm. I can see her now coming +forward, her two little feet encased in pink satin. She was like a +bird hesitating as to whether it would fly or remain on the +ground. She looked so pretty, so smiling, and when she trilled +out the gem-like notes of her wonderful voice the whole house +was delirious with excitement.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Every one sprang up, and the students stood on their seats, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>waved their hats and handkerchiefs, nodded their young heads in +their feverish enthusiasm for art, and “encored” with intonations +of the most touching supplication.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The divine singer then began again, and three times over she +had to sing the Cavatina from <cite><span lang="fr">Il Barbière de Seville</span></cite>, “<cite><span lang="fr">Una +voce poco fa</span></cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thanked her affectionately afterwards, and she left the +theatre escorted by the students, who followed her carriage for +a long way, shouting over and over again, “Long live Adelina +Patti!” Thanks to that evening’s performance I was able to +pay the insurance company. I was ruined all the same, or very +nearly so.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stayed a few days with my mother, but we were so cramped +for room there that I took a furnished flat in the Rue de +l’Arcade. It was a dismal house, and the flat was dark. I +was wondering how I should get out of my difficulties, when +one morning M. C——, my father’s notary, was announced. +This was the man I disliked so much, but I gave orders that he +should be shown in. I was surprised that I had not seen him +for so long a time. He told me that he had just returned from +Hamburg, that he had seen in the newspaper an account of my +misfortune, and had now come to put himself at my service. In +spite of my distrust, I was touched by this, and I related to him +the whole drama of my fire. I did not know how it had started, +but I vaguely suspected my maid Josephine of having placed +my lighted candle on the little table to the left of the head of +my bed. I had frequently warned her not to do this, but it was +on this little piece of furniture that she always placed my +water-bottle and glass, and a dessert dish with a couple of raw apples, +for I adore eating apples when I wake in the night. On opening +the door there was always a terrible draught, as the windows +were left open until I went to bed. On closing the door after +her the lace bed-curtains had probably caught fire. I could not +explain the catastrophe in any other way. I had several times +seen the young servant do this stupid thing, and I supposed +that on the night in question she had been in a hurry to go to +bed on account of her bad headache. As a rule, when I was +going to undress myself she prepared everything, and then came +in and told me, but this time she had not done so. Usually, +too, I just went into the room myself to see that everything +<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>was right, and several times I had been obliged to move the +candle. That day, however, was destined to bring me +misfortune of some kind, though it was not a very great one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But,” said the notary, “you were not insured, then?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; I was to sign my policy the day after the event.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah!” exclaimed the man of law, “and to think that I have +been told you set the flat on fire yourself in order to receive a +large sum of money!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I shrugged my shoulders, for I had seen insinuations to this +effect in a newspaper. I was very young at this time, but I +already had a certain disdain for tittle-tattle.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well, I must arrange matters for you if things are like +this,” said Maître C—— . “You are really better off than you +imagine as regards the money on your father’s side,” he +continued. “As your grandmother leaves you an annuity, you +can get a good amount for this by agreeing to insure your +life for 250,000 francs for forty years, for the benefit of the +purchaser.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I agreed to everything, and was only too delighted at such a +windfall. This man promised to send me two days after his +return 120,000 francs, and he kept his word. My reason for +giving the details of this little episode, which after all belongs to +my life, is to show how differently things turn out from what seems +likely according to logic or according to our own expectations. +It is quite certain that the accident which had just then +happened to me scattered to the winds the hopes and plans of my +life. I had arranged for myself a luxurious home with the +money that my father and mother had left me. I had kept by +me and invested a sufficient amount of money so as to be sure to +complete my monthly salary for the next two years: I reckoned +that at the end of the two years I should be in a position +to demand a very high salary. And all these arrangements had +been upset by the carelessness of a domestic. I had rich +relatives and very rich friends, but not one amongst them +stretched out a hand to help me out of the ditch into which +I had fallen. My rich relatives had not forgiven me for going +on to the stage. And yet Heaven knows what tears it had cost +me to take up this career that had been forced upon me. My +Uncle Faure came to see me at my mother’s house, but my aunt +would not listen to a word about me. I used to see my cousin +<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>secretly, and sometimes his pretty sister. My rich friends +considered that I was wildly extravagant, and could not +understand why I did not place the money I had inherited in good, +sound investments.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I received a great deal of verse on the subject of my fire. +Most of it was anonymous. I have kept it all, however, and I +quote the following poem, which is rather nice:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Passant, te voilà sans abri:</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">La flamme a ravagé ton gite.</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Hier plus léger qu’un colibri;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Ton esprit aujourd’hui s’agite,</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">S’exhalant en gémissements</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Sur tout ce que le feu dévore.</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Tu pleures tes beaux diamants?...</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Non, tes grands yeux les ont encore!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Ne regrette pas ces colliers</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Qu’ont à leur cou les riches dames!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Tu trouveras dans les halliers,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Des tissus verts, aux fines trames!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Ta perle?... Mais, c’est le jais noir</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Qui sur l’envers du fossé pousse!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Et le cadre de ton miroir</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Est une bordure de mousse!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Tes bracelets?... Mais, tes bras nus,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Tu paraîtras cent fois plus belle!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Sur les bras jolis de Vénus,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Aucun cercle d’or n’étincelle!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Garde ton charme si puissant!</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Ton parfum de plante sauvage!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Laisse les bijoux, O Passant,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">A celles que le temps ravage!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Avec ta guitare à ton cou,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Va, par la France et par l’Espagne!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Suis ton chemin; je ne sais où....</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Par la plaine et par la montagne!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Passe, comme la plume au vent!</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Comme le son de ta mandore!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Comme un flot qui baise en rêvant,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Les flancs d’une barque sonore!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c018'>The proprietor of one of the hotels now very much in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>vogue sent me the following letter, which I quote word for +word:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Madame</span>,—If you would consent to dine every evening for a +month in our large dining-room, I would place at your service +a suite of rooms on the first floor, consisting of two bedrooms, +a large drawing-room, a small boudoir, and a bath-room. It is +of course understood that this suite of rooms would be yours +free of charge if you would consent to do as I ask.—Yours, etc.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“(P.S.) You would only have to pay for the fresh supplies +of plants for your drawing-room.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was the extent of the man’s coarseness. I asked one of +my friends to go and give the low fellow his answer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was in despair, though, for I felt that I could not live +without comfort and luxury.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I soon made up my mind as to what I must do, but not +without sorrow. I had been offered a magnificent engagement +in Russia, and I should have to accept it. Madame Guérard +was my sole confidant, and I did not mention my plan to +any one else. The idea of Russia terrified her, for at that +time my chest was very delicate, and cold was my most cruel +enemy. It was just as I had made up my mind to this that the +lawyer arrived. His avaricious and crafty mind had schemed +out the clever and, for him, profitable combination which was +to change my whole life once more.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took a pretty flat on the first floor of a house in the Rue de +Rome. It was very sunny, and that delighted me more than +anything else. There were two drawing-rooms and a large +dining-room. I arranged for my grandmother to live at a +home kept by lay sisters and nuns. She was a Jewess, and carried +out very strictly all the laws laid down by her religion. The +house was very comfortable, and my grandmother took her own +maid with her, the young girl from Burgundy, to whom she +was accustomed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I went to see her she told me that she was much better +off there than with me. “When I was with you,” she said, +“I found your boy too noisy.” I very rarely went to visit her +there, for after seeing my mother turn pale at her unkind +words I never cared any more for her. She was happy, and +that was the essential thing.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>I now played successfully in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Bâtard</span></cite>, in which I had great +success, in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Affranchi</span></cite>, in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Autre</span></cite> by George Sand, and in +<cite>Jean-Marie</cite>, a little masterpiece by André Theuriet, which had +the most brilliant success. Porel played the part of Jean-Marie. +He was at that time slender, and full of hope. Since then his +slenderness has developed into plumpness and his hope into +certitude.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XV<br> <span class='large'>THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Evil days then came upon us. Paris began to get feverish +and excited. The streets were black with groups of people, +discussing and gesticulating. And all this noise was only +the echo of far-distant groups gathered together in German +streets. These other groups were yelling, gesticulating, and +discussing, but—they knew, whilst we did not know!</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could not keep calm, but was extremely excited, until +finally I was ill. War was declared, and I hate war! It +exasperates me and makes me shudder from head to foot. At +times I used to spring up terrified, upset by the distant cries of +human voices.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, war! What infamy, shame, and sorrow! War! What +theft and crime, abetted, forgiven, and glorified!</p> + +<p class='c013'>Recently, I visited a huge steel works. I will not say in what +country, for all countries have been hospitable to me, and I am +neither a spy nor a traitress. I only set forth things as I see +them. Well, I visited one of these frightful manufactories, +in which the most deadly weapons are made. The owner of it +all, a multi-millionaire, was introduced to me. He was pleasant, +but no good at conversation, and he had a dreamy, dissatisfied +look. My cicerone informed me that this man had just lost +a huge sum of money, nearly sixty million francs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good Heavens!” I exclaimed; “how has he lost it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well, he has not exactly lost the money, but has just +missed making the sum, so it amounts to the same thing.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked perplexed, and he added, “Yes; you remember that +there was a great deal of talk about war between France +and Germany with regard to the Morocco affair?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>“Well, this prince of the steel trade expected to sell cannons +for it, and for a month his men were very busy in the factory, +working day and night. He gave enormous bribes to influential +members of the Government, and paid some of the papers +in France and Germany to stir up the people. Everything has +fallen through, thanks to the intervention of men who are wise +and humanitarian. The consequence is that this millionaire is in +despair. He has lost sixty or perhaps a hundred million +francs.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at the wretched man with contempt, and I wished +heartily that he could be suffocated with his millions, as +remorse was no doubt utterly unknown to him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And how many others merit our contempt just as this man +does! Nearly all those who are known as “suppliers to the +army,” in every country in the world, are the most desperate +propagators of war.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Let every man be a soldier in the time of peril. Yes, a +thousand times over, yes! Let every man be armed for the +defence of his country, and let him kill in order to defend his +family and himself. That is only reasonable. But that there +should be, in our times, young men whose sole dream is to kill in +order to make a position for themselves, that is inconceivable!</p> + +<p class='c013'>It is indisputable that we must guard our frontiers and +our colonies, but since all men are soldiers, why not take these +guards and defenders from among “all men”? We should only +have schools for officers then, and we should have no more +of those horrible barracks which offend the eye. And when +sovereigns visit each other and are invited to a review, would +they not be much more edified as to the value of a nation if it +could show a thousandth part of its effective force chosen haphazard among its soldiers, rather than the elegant evolutions +of an army prepared for parade? What magnificent reviews I +have seen in all the different countries I have visited! But I +know from history that such and such an army as was prancing +about there so finely before us had taken flight, without any +great reason, before the enemy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On July 19 war was seriously declared, and Paris then became +the theatre of the most touching and burlesque scenes. +Excitable and delicate as I was, I could not bear the sight of all these +young men gone wild, who were yelling the “Marseillaise” and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>rushing along the streets in close file, shouting over and over +again, “To Berlin! To Berlin!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My heart used to beat wildly, for I too thought that they +were going to Berlin. I understood the fury they felt, for these +people had provoked us without plausible reasons, but at the +same time it seemed to me that they were getting ready for this +great deed without sufficient respect and dignity. My own +impotence made me feel rebellious, and when I saw all the +mothers, with pale faces and eyes swollen with crying, holding +their boys in their arms and kissing them in despair, the most +frightful anguish seemed to choke me. I cried, too, almost +unceasingly, and I was wearing myself away with anxiety, but I +did not foresee the horrible catastrophe that was to take place.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The doctors decided that I must go to Eaux-Bonnes. I did +not want to leave Paris, for I had caught the general fever of +excitement. My weakness increased, though, day by day, and +on July 27 I was taken away in spite of myself. Madame +Guérard, my man-servant, and my maid accompanied me, and I +also took my child with me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In all the railway stations there were posters everywhere, +announcing that the Emperor Napoleon had gone to Metz to +take command of the army.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At Eaux-Bonnes I was compelled to remain in bed. My +condition was considered very serious by Dr. Leudet, who told +me afterwards that he certainly thought I was going to die. I +vomited blood, and had to have a piece of ice in my mouth all +the time. At the end of about twelve days, however, I began +to get up, and after this I soon recovered my strength and my +calmness, and went for long rides on horseback.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The war news led us to hope for victory. There was great +joy and a certain emotion felt by every one on hearing that the +young Prince Imperial had received his baptism of fire at Saarbruck, +in the engagement commanded by General Frossard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Life seemed to me beautiful again, for I had great confidence +in the issue of the war. I pitied the Germans for having embarked +on such an adventure. But, alas! the fine, glorious +progress which my brain had been so active in imagining was +cut short by the atrocious news from Saint-Privat. The political +news was posted up every day in the little garden of the Casino +at Eaux-Bonnes. The public went there to get information. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>Detesting, as I did, tranquillity, I used to send my man-servant +to copy the telegrams. Oh, how grievous was that terrible +telegram from Saint-Privat, informing us laconically of the +frightful butchery; of the heroic defence of Marshal Canrobert; +and of Bazaine’s first treachery in not going to the rescue of his comrade.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I knew Canrobert, and was very fond of him. Later on he +became one of my faithful friends, and I shall always remember the +exquisite hours spent in listening to his accounts of the bravery +of others—never of his own. And what an abundance of +anecdotes, what wit, what charm!</p> + +<p class='c013'>This news of the battle of Saint-Privat caused my feverishness +to return. My sleep was full of nightmares, and I had a relapse. +The news was worse every day. After Saint-Privat came +Gravelotte, where 36,000 men, French and German, were cut down in +a few hours. Then came the sublime but powerless efforts of +MacMahon, who was driven back as far as Sedan; and finally +Sedan.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sedan! Ah, the horrible awakening! The month of August +had finished the night before, amidst a tumult of weapons and +dying groans. But the groans of the dying men were mingled +still with hopeful cries. But the month of September was +cursed from its very birth. Its first war-cry was stifled back +by the brutal and cowardly hand of Destiny.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A hundred thousand men! A hundred thousand Frenchmen +compelled to capitulate, and the Emperor of France forced +to hand his sword over to the King of Prussia!</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ah! that cry of grief, that cry of rage, uttered by the whole +nation. It can never be forgotten!</p> + +<p class='c013'>On September 1, towards ten o’clock, Claude, my man-servant, +knocked at my door. I was not asleep, and he gave me a copy +of the first telegrams:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Battle of Sedan commenced. MacMahon wounded,” &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah! go back again,” I said, “and as soon as a fresh telegram +comes, bring me the news. I feel that something unheard +of, something great and quite different, is going to happen. +We have suffered so terribly this last month, that there can only +be something good now, something fine, for God’s scales mete +out joy and suffering equally. Go at once, Claude,” I added, +and then, full of confidence, I soon fell asleep again, and was so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>tired that I slept until one o’clock. When I awoke, my maid +Félicie, the most delightful girl imaginable, was seated near my +bed. Her pretty face and her large dark eyes were so mournful +that my heart stopped beating. I gazed at her anxiously, and +she put into my hands the copy of the last telegram:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The Emperor Napoleon has just handed over his sword....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Blood rushed to my head, and my lungs were too weak to +control its flow. I lay back on my pillow, and the blood escaped +through my lips with the groans of my whole being.</p> + +<p class='c013'>For three days I was between life and death. Dr. Leudet +sent for one of my father’s friends, a shipowner named M. +Maunoir. He came at once, bringing with him his young wife. +She too was very ill, worse in reality than I was, in spite of her +fresh look, for she died six months later. Thanks to their care +and to the energetic treatment of Dr. Leudet, I came through +alive from this attack.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I decided to return at once to Paris, as the siege was about to +be proclaimed, and I did not want my mother and my sisters to +remain in the capital. Independently of this, every one at +Eaux-Bonnes was seized with a desire to get away, invalids and tourists +alike. A post-chaise was found, the owner of which agreed, +for an exorbitant price, to drive me to the nearest station without +delay. When once in it, we were more or less comfortably +seated as far as Bordeaux, but it was impossible to find five +seats in the express from there. My man-servant was allowed +to travel with the engine-driver. I do not know where Madame +Guérard and my maid found room, but in the compartment I +entered, with my little boy, there were already nine persons. +An ugly old man tried to push my child out when I had put +him in, but I pushed him back again energetically in my turn.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No human force will make us get out of this carriage,” I +said. “Do you hear that, you ugly old man? We are here, +and we shall stay.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A stout lady, who took up more room herself than three +ordinary persons, exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well! that is lively, for we are suffocated already. It’s +shameful to let eleven persons get into a compartment where +there are only seats for eight!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you get out, then?” I retorted, turning to her quickly, +“for without you there would only be seven of us.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>The stifled laughter of the other travellers showed me that I +had won over my audience. Three young men offered me their +places, but I refused, declaring that I was going to stand. The +three young men had risen, and they declared that they would +also stand. The stout lady called a railway official. “Come +here, please!” she began.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The official stopped an instant at the door.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is perfectly shameful,” she went on. “There are eleven +in this compartment, and it is impossible to move.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Don’t you believe it,” exclaimed one of the young men. +“Just look for yourself. We are standing up, and there are +three seats empty. Send some more people in here.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The official went away laughing and muttering something +about the woman who had complained. She turned to the +young man and began to talk abusively to him. He bowed very +respectfully in reply, and said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Madame, if you will calm down you shall be satisfied. We +will seat seven on the other side, including the child, and then +you will only be four on your side.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The ugly old man was short and slight. He looked sideways +at the stout lady and murmured, “Four! Four!” His look +and tone showed that he considered the stout lady took up more +than one seat. This look and tone were not lost on the young +man, and before the ugly old man had comprehended he said to +him, “Will you come over here and have this corner? All the +thin people will be together then,” he added, inviting a placid, +calm-looking young Englishman of eighteen to twenty years of +age to take the old man’s seat. The Englishman had the torso +of a prize-fighter, with a face like that of a fair-haired baby. A +very young woman, opposite the stout one, laughed till the tears +came. All six of us then found room on the thin people’s side +of the carriage. We were a little crushed, but had been considerably +enlivened by this little entertainment, and we certainly +needed something to enliven us. The young man who had taken +the matter in hand in such a witty way was tall and nice-looking. +He had blue eyes, and his hair was almost white, and this gave +to his face a most attractive freshness and youthfulness. My +boy was on his knee during the night. With the exception of +the child, the stout lady, and the young Englishman, no one went +to sleep. The heat was overpowering, and the war was of course +<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>discussed. After some hesitation, one of the young men told +me that I resembled Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt. I answered that +there was every reason why I should resemble her. The young +men then introduced themselves. The one who had recognised +me was Albert Delpit, the second was a Dutchman, Baron van +Zelern or von Zerlen, I do not remember exactly which, and the +young man with white hair was Félix Faure. He told me that +he was from Hâvre, and that he knew my grandmother very +well. I kept up a certain friendship with these three men afterwards, +but later on Albert Delpit became my enemy. All three +are now dead—Albert Delpit died a disappointed man, for he +had tried everything and succeeded in nothing, the Dutch baron +was killed in a railway accident, and Félix Faure was President +of the French Republic.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The young woman, on hearing my name, introduced herself +in her turn.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I think we are slightly related,” she said. “I am Madame +Laroque.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Of Bordeaux?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My mother’s brother had married a Mlle. Laroque of Bordeaux, +so that we were able to talk of our family. Altogether the +journey did not seem very long, in spite of the heat, the overcrowding, +and our thirst.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The arrival in Paris was more gloomy. We shook hands +warmly with each other. The stout lady’s husband was awaiting +her; he handed her, in silence, a telegram. The unfortunate +woman read it, and then, uttering a cry, burst into sobs and fell +into his arms. I gazed at her, wondering what sorrow had come +upon her. Poor woman, I could no longer see anything ridiculous +about her! I felt a pang of remorse at the thought that we had +been laughing at her so much, when misfortune had already +singled her out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On reaching home I sent word to my mother that I should be +with her some time during the day. She came at once, as she +wanted to know how my health was. We then arranged about +the departure of the whole family, with the exception of myself, +as I wanted to stay in Paris during the siege. My mother, my +little boy and his nurse, my sisters, my Aunt Annette, who kept +house for me, and my mother’s maid were all ready to start two +<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>days later. I had taken rooms at Frascati’s, at Hâvre, for the +whole tribe. But the desire to leave Paris was one thing, and +the possibility of doing so another. The stations were invaded +by families like mine, who thought it more prudent to emigrate. +I sent my man-servant to engage a compartment, and he came +back three hours later with his clothes torn, after receiving +no end of kicks and blows.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Madame cannot go into that crowd,” he assured me; “it is +quite impossible. I should not be able to protect her. Besides, +Madame will not be alone; there is Madame’s mother, the other +ladies, and the children. It is really quite impossible.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sent at once for three of my friends, explained my difficulty, +and asked them to accompany me. I told my steward to be +ready, as well as my other man-servant and my mother’s footman. +He in his turn invited his younger brother, who was a priest, +and who was very willing to go with us. We all set off in a +railway omnibus. There were seventeen of us in all, but only +nine who were really travelling. Our eight protectors were +none too many, for those who were taking tickets were not +human beings, but wild beasts haunted by fear and spurred on +by a desire to escape. These brutes saw nothing but the little +ticket office, the door leading to the train, and then the train +which would ensure their escape. The presence of the young +priest was a great help to us, for his religious character made +people refrain sometimes from blows.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When once all my people were installed in the compartment +which had been reserved for them, they waved their farewells, +threw kisses, and the train started. A shudder of terror ran +through me, for I suddenly felt so absolutely alone. It was the +first time I had been separated from the little child who was +dearer to me than the whole world.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two arms were then thrown affectionately round me, and a +voice murmured, “My dear Sarah, why did you not go, too? +You are so delicate. Will you be able to bear the solitude +without the dear child?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was Madame Guérard, who had arrived too late to kiss +the boy, but was there now to comfort the mother. I gave way +to my despair, regretting that I had let him go away. And yet, +as I said to myself, there might be fighting in Paris! The idea +never for an instant occurred to me that I might have gone +<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>away with him. I thought that I might be of some use in +Paris. Of some use, but in what way? This I did not know. +The idea seemed stupid, but nevertheless that was my idea. +It seemed to me that every one who was fit ought to remain in +Paris. In spite of my weakness, I felt that I was fit, and with +reason, as I proved later on. I therefore remained, not knowing +at all what I was going to do.</p> + +<p class='c013'>For some days I was perfectly dazed, missing the life around +me, and missing the affection.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XVI<br> <span class='large'>SARAH BERNHARDT’S AMBULANCE AT THE ODÉON THEATRE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The defence, however, was being organised, and I decided to +use my strength and intelligence in tending the wounded. The +question was, where could we instal an ambulance?</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Odéon Theatre had closed its doors, but I moved heaven +and earth to get permission to organise an ambulance in that +theatre, and, thanks to Emile de Girardin and Duquesnel, my +wish was gratified. I went to the War Office and made my +declaration and my request, and my offers were accepted for a +military ambulance. The next difficulty was that I wanted +food. I wrote a line to the Prefect of Police. A military +courier arrived very soon, with a note from the Prefect containing +the following lines:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Madame</span>,—If you could possibly come at once, I would wait +for you until six o’clock. If not I will receive you to-morrow +morning at eight. Excuse the earliness of the hour, but I have +to be at the Chamber at nine in the morning, and, as your note +seems to be urgent, I am anxious to do all I can to be of service +to you.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Comte de Kératry.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>I remembered a Comte de Kératry who had been introduced +to me at my aunt’s house, the evening I had recited poetry +accompanied by Rossini, but he was a young lieutenant, good-looking, +witty, and lively. He had introduced me to his +mother. I had recited poetry at her <i><span lang="fr">soirées</span></i>. The young +lieutenant had gone to Mexico, and for some time we had kept +up a correspondence, but this had gradually ceased, and we had +not met again. I asked Madame Guérard whether she thought +<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>that the Prefect were a near relative of my young friend’s. +“It may be so,” she replied, and we discussed this in the carriage +which was taking us at once to the Tuileries Palace, where the +Prefect had his offices. My heart was very heavy when we +came to the stone steps. Only a few months previously, one +April morning, I had been there with Madame Guérard. Then, +as now, a footman had come forward to open the door of my +carriage, but the April sunshine had then lighted up the steps, +caught the shining lamps of the State carriages, and sent its +rays in all directions. There had been a busy, joyful coming +and going of the officers then, and elegant salutes had been +exchanged. On this occasion the misty, crafty-looking +November sun fell heavily on all it touched. Black, dirty-looking +cabs drove up one after the other, knocking against the +iron gate, grazing the steps, advancing or moving back, according +to the coarse shouts of their drivers. Instead of the elegant +salutations I heard now such phrases as: “Well, how are you, +old chap?” “Oh, <i><span lang="fr">la gueule de bois</span></i>!” “Well, any news?” +“Yes, it’s the very deuce with us!” &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Palace was no longer the same.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The very atmosphere had changed. The faint perfume which +elegant women leave in the air as they pass was no longer there. +A vague odour of tobacco, of greasy clothes, of dirty hair, made +the atmosphere seem heavy. Ah, the beautiful French Empress! +I could see her again in her blue dress embroidered with silver, +calling to her aid Cinderella’s good fairy to help her on again with +her little slipper. The delightful young Prince Imperial, too! +I could see him helping me to arrange the pots of verbena and +marguerites, and holding in his arms, which were not strong +enough for it, a huge pot of rhododendrons, behind which his +handsome face completely disappeared. Then, too, I could see +the Emperor Napoleon III. with his half-closed eyes, clapping +his hands at the rehearsal of the curtseys intended for him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And the fair Empress, dressed in strange clothes, had rushed +away in the carriage of her American dentist, for it was not even +a Frenchman, but a foreigner, who had had the courage to protect +the unfortunate woman. And the gentle Utopian Emperor +had tried in vain to be killed on the battle-field. Two horses +had been killed under him, and he had not received so much as +a scratch. And after this he had given up his sword. And we +<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>at home had all wept with anger, shame, and grief at this giving +up of the sword. And yet what courage it must have required +for so brave a man to carry out such an act. He had wanted +to save a hundred thousand men, to spare a hundred thousand +lives, and to reassure a hundred thousand mothers. Our poor, +beloved Emperor! History will some day do him justice, +for he was good, humane, and confiding. Alas, alas! he was +too confiding!</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stopped a minute before entering the Prefect’s suite of rooms. +I was obliged to wipe my eyes, and in order to change the current +of my thoughts I said to <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Tell me, should you think me pretty if you saw me now for +the first time?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes!” she replied warmly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“So much the better,” I said, “for I want this old Prefect to +think me pretty. There are so many things I must ask him +for!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>On entering his room, my surprise was great when I recognised +in him the lieutenant I knew. He had become captain, and +then Prefect of Police. When my name was announced by the +usher, he sprang up from his chair and came forward with his +face beaming and both hands stretched out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, you had forgotten me!” he said, and then he turned to +greet Madame Guérard in a friendly way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But I never thought I was coming to see you!” I replied; +“and I am delighted,” I continued, “for you will let me have +everything I ask for.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Only that!” he remarked with a burst of laughter. “Well, +will you give your orders, Madame?” he continued.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes. I want bread, milk, meat, vegetables, sugar, wine, +brandy, potatoes, eggs, coffee,” I said straight away.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, let me get my breath!” exclaimed the Count-Prefect. +“You speak so quickly that I am gasping.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was quiet for a moment, and then I continued:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I have started an ambulance at the Odéon, but as it is a +military ambulance, the municipal authorities refuse me food. I +have five wounded men already, and I can manage for them, but +other wounded men are being sent to me, and I shall have to +give them food.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You shall be supplied above and beyond all your wishes,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>said the Prefect. “There is food in the Palace which was being +stored by the unfortunate Empress. She had prepared enough +for months and months. I will have all you want sent to you, +except meat, bread, and milk, and as regards these I will give +orders that your ambulance shall be included in the municipal +service, although it is a military one. Then I will give you an +order for salt and other things, which you will be able to get +from the Opéra.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“From the Opéra?” I repeated, looking at him incredulously. +“But it is only being built, and there is nothing but scaffolding +there yet.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes; but you must go through the little doorway under the +scaffolding opposite the Rue Scribe; you then go up the little +spiral staircase leading to the provision office, and there you will +be supplied with what you want.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There is still something else I want to ask,” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Go on; I am quite resigned, and ready for your orders,” he +replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, I am very uneasy,” I said, “for they have put a stock +of powder in the cellars under the Odéon. If Paris were to be +bombarded and a shell should fall on the building, we should +all be blown up, and that is not the aim and object of an +ambulance.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are quite right,” said the kind man, “and nothing +could be more stupid than to store powder there. I shall have +more difficulty about that, though,” he continued, “for I shall +have to deal with a crowd of stubborn <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> who want to +organise the defence in their own way. You must try to get a +petition for me, signed by the most influential householders and +tradespeople in the neighbourhood. Now are you satisfied?” +he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” I replied, shaking both his hands cordially. “You +have been most kind and charming. Thank you very much.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then moved towards the door, but I stood still again +suddenly, as though hypnotised by an overcoat hanging over a +chair. Madame Guérard saw what had attracted my attention, +and she pulled my sleeve gently.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My dear Sarah,” she whispered, “do not do that.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked beseechingly at the young Prefect, but he did not +understand.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>“What can I do now to oblige you, beautiful Madonna?” +he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I pointed to the coat and tried to look as charming as +possible.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am very sorry,” he said, bewildered, “but I do not understand +at all.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was still pointing to the coat.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Give it me, will you?” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My overcoat?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What do you want it for?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“For my wounded men when they are convalescent.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He sank down on a chair in a fit of laughter. I was rather +vexed at this uncontrollable outburst, and I continued my +explanation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There is nothing so funny about it,” I said. “I have a poor +fellow, for instance, two of whose fingers have been taken off. +He does not need to stay in bed for that, naturally, and his +soldier’s cape is not warm enough. It is very difficult to warm +the big <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i> of the Odéon sufficiently, and those who are well +enough have to be there. The man I tell you about is warm +enough at present, because I took Henri Fould’s overcoat when +he came to see me the other day. My poor soldier is huge, and +as Henri Fould is a giant I might never have had such an opportunity +again. I shall want a great many overcoats, though, and +this looks like a very warm one.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stroked the furry lining of the coveted garment, and the +young Prefect, still choking with laughter, began to empty the +pockets of his overcoat. He pulled out a magnificent white silk +muffler from the largest pocket.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you allow me to keep my muffler?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I put on a resigned expression and nodded my consent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our host then rang, and when the usher appeared he handed +him the overcoat, and said in a solemn voice, in spite of the +laughter in his eyes:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you carry this to the carriage for these ladies?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thanked him again, and went away feeling very happy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Twelve days later I returned, taking with me a letter covered +with the signatures of the householders and tradesmen residing +near the Odéon.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>On entering the Prefect’s room I was petrified to see him, +instead of advancing to meet me, rush towards a cupboard, open +the door, and fling something hastily into it. After this he +leaned against the door as though to prevent my opening it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Excuse me,” he said, in a witty, mocking tone, “but I caught +a violent cold after your first visit. I have just put my overcoat—oh, only an ugly old overcoat, not a warm one,” he added +quickly, “but still an overcoat—inside there, and there it now is, +and I will take the key out of the lock.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He put the key carefully into his pocket, and then came +forward and offered me a chair. But our conversation soon +took a more serious turn, for the news was very bad. For +the last twelve days the ambulances had been crowded with +wounded men. Everything was in a bad way, home politics as +well as foreign politics. The Germans were advancing on Paris. +The army of the Loire was being formed. Gambetta, Chanzy, +Bourbaki, and Trochu were organising a desperate defence. We +talked for some time about all these sad things, and I told him +about the painful impression I had had on my last visit to the +Tuileries, of my remembrance of every one, so brilliant, so considerate, +and so happy formerly, and so deeply to be pitied at +present. We were silent for a moment, and then I shook hands +with him, told him I had received all he had sent, and returned +to my ambulance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Prefect had sent me ten barrels of wine and two of +brandy; 30,000 eggs, all packed in boxes with lime and bran; +a hundred bags of coffee and boxes of tea, forty boxes of Albert +biscuits, a thousand tins of preserves, and a quantity of other +things.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Menier, the great chocolate manufacturer, had sent me +five hundred pounds of chocolate. One of my friends, a flour +dealer, had made me a present of twenty sacks of flour, ten +of which were maize flour. This flour dealer was the one who +had asked me to be his wife when I was at the Conservatoire. +Félix Potin, my neighbour when I was living at 11 Boulevard +Malesherbes, had responded to my appeal by sending two barrels +of raisins, a hundred boxes of sardines, three sacks of rice, two +sacks of lentils, and twenty sugar-loaves. From M. de +Rothschild I had received two barrels of brandy and a hundred +bottles of his own wine for the convalescents. I also received a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>very unexpected present. Léonie Dubourg, an old school-fellow +of mine at the Grand-Champs convent, sent me fifty tin +boxes each containing four pounds of salt butter. She had +married a very wealthy gentleman farmer, who cultivated his +own farms, which it seems were very numerous. I was very +much touched at her remembering me, for I had never seen her +since the old days at the convent. I had also asked for all the +overcoats and slippers of my various friends, and I had bought +up a job lot of two hundred flannel vests. My Aunt Betsy, my +blind grandmother’s sister, who is still living in Holland, and is +now ninety-three years of age, managed to get for me, through +the charming Ambassador for the Netherlands, three hundred +night-shirts of magnificent Dutch linen, and a hundred pairs of +sheets. I received lint and bandages from every corner of Paris, +but it was more particularly from the Palais de l’Industrie that +I used to get my provisions of lint and of linen for binding +wounds. There was an adorable woman there, named Mlle. +Hocquigny, who was at the head of all the ambulances. All +that she did was done with a cheerful gracefulness, and all that +she was obliged to refuse she refused sorrowfully, but still in +a gracious manner. She was at that time over thirty years +of age, and although unmarried she looked more like a very +young married woman. She had large, blue, dreamy eyes, and +a laughing mouth, a deliciously oval face, little dimples, and, +crowning all this grace, this dreamy expression, and this +coquettish, inviting mouth, a wide forehead like that of the +Virgins painted by the early painters, rather prominent, encircled +by hair worn in smooth, wide, flat bandeaux, separated by a +faultless parting. The forehead seemed like the protecting +rampart of this delicious face. Mlle. Hocquigny was adored +and made much of by every one, but she remained invulnerable +to all homage. She was happy in being beloved, but she would +not allow any one to express affection for her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the Palais de l’Industrie a remarkable number of celebrated +doctors and surgeons were on duty, and they, as well as the +convalescents, were all more or less in love with Mlle. Hocquigny. +As she and I were great friends, she confided to me her observations +and her sorrowful disdain. Thanks to her, I was never +short of linen nor of lint. I had organised my ambulance with +a very small staff. My cook was installed in the public <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i>. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>I had bought her an immense cooking range, so that she could +make soups and herb-tea for fifty men. Her husband was chief +attendant. I had given him two assistants, and Madame +Guérard, Madame Lambquin, and I were the nurses. Two of +us sat up at night, so that we each went to bed one night in +three. I preferred this to taking on some woman whom I did not +know. Madame Lambquin belonged to the Odéon, where she +used to take the part of the duennas. She was plain and had a +common face, but she was very talented. She talked loud and +was very plain-spoken. She called a spade a spade, and liked +frankness and no under meaning to things. At times she was +a trifle embarrassing with the crudeness of her words and her +remarks, but she was kind, active, alert, and devoted. My various +friends who were on service at the fortifications came to me in +their free time to do my secretarial work. I had to keep a book, +which was shown every day to a sergeant who came from the +Val-de-Grâce military hospital, giving all details as to how +many men came into our ambulance, how many died, and how +many recovered and left. Paris was in a state of siege; no one +could go far outside the walls, and no news from outside could +be received. The Germans were not, however, round the gates +of the city. Baron Larrey came now and then to see me, and I +had as head surgeon Dr. Duchesne, who gave up his whole time, +night and day, to the care of my poor men during the five +months that this truly frightful nightmare lasted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I cannot recall those terrible days without the deepest emotion. +It was no longer the country in danger that kept my +nerves strung up, but the sufferings of all her children. There +were all those who were away fighting, those who were brought +in to us wounded or dying; the noble women of the people, who +stood for hours and hours in the <i><span lang="fr">queue</span></i> to get the necessary dole +of bread, meat, and milk for their poor little ones at home. Ah, +those poor women! I could see them from the theatre windows, +pressing up close to each other, blue with cold, and stamping +their feet on the ground to keep them from freezing—for that +winter was the most cruel one we had had for twenty years. +Frequently one of these poor, silent heroines was brought in to me, +either in a swoon from fatigue or struck down suddenly with +congestion caused by cold. On December 20 three of these +unfortunate women were brought into the ambulance. One of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>them had her feet frozen, and she lost the big toe of her right +foot. The second was an enormously stout woman, who was +suckling her child, and her poor breasts were harder than wood. +She simply howled with pain. The youngest of the three was a +girl of sixteen to eighteen years of age. She died of cold, on +the trestle on which I had had her placed to send her home. +On December 24, there were fifteen degrees of cold. I often +sent Guillaume, our attendant, out with a little brandy to warm +the poor women. Oh! the suffering they must have endured—those +heart-broken mothers, those sisters and <i><span lang="fr">fiancées</span></i>—in their +terrible dread. How excusable their rebellion seems during the +Commune, and even their bloodthirsty madness!</p> + +<p class='c013'>My ambulance was full. I had sixty beds, and was obliged +to improvise ten more. The soldiers were installed in the +green-room and in the general <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i>, and the officers in a room +which had been formerly the refreshment-room of the theatre.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day a young Breton, named Marie Le Gallec, was brought +in. He had been struck by a bullet in the chest and another +in the wrist. Dr. Duchesne bound up his chest firmly, and +attended to his wrist. He then said to me very simply:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Let him have anything he likes—he is dying.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I bent over his bed, and said to him:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Tell me what would give you pleasure, Marie Le Gallec.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Soup,” he answered promptly, in the most comic way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Guérard hurried away to the kitchen, and soon +returned with a bowl of broth and pieces of toast. I placed +the bowl on the little four-legged wooden shelf, which was so +convenient for the meals of our poor sufferers. The wounded +man looked up at me and said, “Barra.” I did not understand, +and he repeated, “Barra.” His poor chest caused him to hiss +out the word, and he made the greatest efforts to repeat his +emphatic request.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sent immediately to the Marine Office, thinking that there +would surely be some Breton seamen there, and I explained my +difficulty and my ignorance of the Breton dialect.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was informed that the word “barra” meant bread. I hurried +at once to Le Gallec with a large piece of bread. His face lighted +up, and taking it from me with his sound hand, he broke it up +with his teeth and let the pieces fall in the bowl. He then +plunged his spoon into the middle of the broth, and filled it up +<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>with bread until the spoon could stand upright in it. When it +stood up without shaking about, the young soldier smiled. He +was just preparing to eat this horrible concoction when the +young priest from St. Sulpice who had my ambulance in charge +arrived. I had sent for him on hearing the doctor’s sad verdict. +He laid his hand gently on the young man’s shoulder, thus +stopping the movement of his arm. The poor fellow looked +up at the priest, who showed him the holy cup.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” he said simply, and then, placing his coarse handkerchief +over the steaming soup, he put his hands together.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had arranged the two screens which we used for isolating +the dead or dying around his bed. He was left alone with the +priest whilst I went on my rounds to calm those who were +chaffing, or help the believers raise themselves for prayer. The +young priest soon pushed aside the partition, and I then saw +Marie Le Gallec, with a beaming face, eating his abominable +bread sop. He soon fell asleep but awoke before long and asked +for something to drink, and then died in a slight fit of +choking. Fortunately I did not lose many men out of the +three hundred who came into my ambulance, for the death of the +unfortunate ones completely upset me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was very young at that time, only twenty-four years of age, +but I could nevertheless see the cowardice of some of the men +and the heroism of many of the others. A young Savoyard, +eighteen years old, had had his forefinger shot off. Baron +Larrey was quite sure that he had done it himself with his +own gun, but I could not believe that. I noticed, though, that, in +spite of our nursing and care, the wound did not heal. I bound +it up in a different way, and the following day I saw that +the bandage had been altered. I mentioned this to Madame +Lambquin, who was sitting up that night with Madame Guérard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good; I will keep my eye on him. You go to sleep, my child, +and rely on me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day when I arrived she told me that she had caught +the young man scraping the wound on his finger with his knife. +I called him, and told him that I should have to report this to +the Val-de-Grâce Hospital.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He began to weep, and vowed to me that he would never do it +again, and five days later he was well. I signed the paper +authorising him to leave the ambulance, and he was sent to the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>army of the defence. I often wondered what became of him. +Another of our patients bewildered us too. Each time that his +wound seemed to be just on the point of healing up, he had a +violent attack of dysentery, which prevented him getting well. +This seemed suspicious to Dr. Duchesne, and he asked me to +watch the man. At the end of a considerable time we were +convinced that our wounded man had thought out the most +comical scheme.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He slept next the wall, and therefore had no neighbour on +the one side. During the night he managed to file the brass of +his bedstead. He put the filings in a little pot which had been +used for ointment of some kind. A few drops of water and some +salt mixed with this powdered brass formed a poison which +might have cost its inventor his life. I was furious at this +stratagem. I wrote to the Val-de-Grâce, and an ambulance +conveyance was sent to take this unpatriotic Frenchman away.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But side by side with these despicable men what heroism we +saw! A young captain was brought in one day. He was a tall +fellow, a regular Hercules, with a superb head and a frank +expression. On my book he was inscribed as Captain Menesson. +He had been struck by a bullet at the top of the arm, just at +the shoulder. With a nurse’s assistance I was trying as gently +as possible to take off his cloak, when three bullets fell from the +hood which he had pulled over his head, and I counted sixteen +bullet holes in the cloak. The young officer had stood upright +for three hours, serving as a target himself, whilst covering the +retreat of his men as they fired all the time on the enemy. This +had taken place among the Champigny vines. He had been +brought in unconscious, in an ambulance conveyance. He had +lost a great deal of blood, and was half dead with fatigue and +weakness. He was very gentle and charming, and thought himself +sufficiently well two days later to return to the fight. The +doctor, however, would not allow this, and his sister, who was a +nun, besought him to wait until he was something like well +again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, not quite well,” she said, smiling, “but just well enough +to have strength to fight.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Soon after he came into the ambulance the Cross of the Legion +of Honour was brought to him, and this was a moment of +intense emotion for every one. The unfortunate wounded men +<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>who could not move turned their suffering faces towards him, +and, with their eyes shining through a mist of tears, gave him a +fraternal look. The stronger amongst them held out their +hands to the young giant.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was Christmas-eve, and I had decorated the ambulance +with festoons of green leaves. I had made pretty little chapels +in front of the Virgin Mary, and the young priest from St. +Sulpice came to take part in our poor but poetical Christmas +service. He repeated some beautiful prayers, and the wounded +men, many of whom were from Brittany, sang some sad solemn +songs full of charm.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Porel, the present manager of the Vaudeville Theatre, had +been wounded on the Avron Plateau. He was then convalescent +and was one of my patients, together with two officers now +ready to leave the ambulance. That Christmas supper is one of my +most charming and at the same time most melancholy memories. +It was served in the small room which we had made into a bedroom. +Our three beds were covered with draperies and skins +which I had had brought from home, and we used them as seats. +Mlle. Hocquigny had sent me five metres of <i><span lang="fr">boudin blanc</span></i> (“white-pudding”), +the famous Christmas dish, and all my poor soldiers +who were well enough were delighted with this delicacy. One of +my friends had had twenty large <i><span lang="fr">brioche</span></i> cakes made for me, and +I had ordered some large bowls of punch, the coloured flames +from which amused the grown-up sick children immensely. The +young priest from St. Sulpice accepted a piece of <i><span lang="fr">brioche</span></i>, and +after taking a little white wine left us. Ah, how charming and +good he was, that poor young priest! And how well he managed +to make Fortin, the insupportable wounded fellow, cease talking. +Gradually the latter began to get humanised, until finally he +began to think the priest was a good sort of fellow. Poor +young priest! He was shot by the Communists. I cried for days +and days over the murder of this young St. Sulpice priest.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XVII<br> <span class='large'>PARIS BOMBARDED</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The month of January arrived. The army of the enemy held +Paris day by day in a still closer grip. Food was getting scarce. +Bitter cold enveloped the city, and poor soldiers who fell, +sometimes only slightly wounded, passed away gently in a sleep that +was eternal, their brain numbed and their body half frozen.</p> + +<p class='c013'>No more news could be received from outside, but thanks to +the United States Minister, who had resolved to remain in Paris, +a letter arrived from time to time. It was in this way that I +received a thin slip of paper, as soft as a primrose petal, +bringing me the following message: “Every one well. Courage. A +thousand kisses.—Your mother.” This impalpable missive dated +from seventeen days previously.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And so my mother, my sisters, and my little boy were at The +Hague all this time, and my mind, which had been continually +travelling in their direction, had been wandering along the +wrong route, towards Hâvre, where I thought they were settled +down quietly at the house of a cousin of my father’s mother.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Where were they, and with whom?</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had two aunts at The Hague, but the question was, +were they there? I no longer knew what to think, and from +that moment I never ceased suffering the most anxious and +torturing mental distress.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was doing all in my power just then to procure some wood +for fires. Comte de Kératry had sent me a large provision +before his departure to the provinces in a balloon on October 9. +My stock was growing very short, and I would not allow what we +had in the cellars to be touched, so that in case of an emergency we +should not be absolutely without any. I had all the little +footstools belonging to the theatre used for firewood, all the wooden +<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>cases in which the properties were kept, a good number of +old Roman benches, arm-chairs and curule chairs, that were +stowed away under the theatre, and indeed everything which +came to hand. Finally, taking pity on my despair, pretty +Mlle. Hocquigny sent me ten thousand kilograms of wood, and +then I took courage again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had been told about some new system of keeping meat, by +which the meat lost neither its juice nor its nutritive quality. +I sent Madame Guérard to the <em>Mairie</em> in the neighbourhood +of the Odéon, where such provisions were distributed, +but some brute answered her that when I had removed all +the religious images from my ambulance I should receive +the necessary food. M. Herisson, the mayor, with some +functionary holding an influential post, had been to inspect my +ambulance. The important personage had requested me to +have the beautiful white Virgins which were on the mantelpieces +and tables taken away, as well as the Divine Crucified—one +hanging on the wall of each room in which there were any +of the wounded. I refused in a somewhat insolent and very +decided way to act in accordance with the wish of my visitor, +whereupon the famous Republican turned his back on me +and gave orders that I should be refused everything at the +<em>Mairie</em>. I was very determined, however, and I moved heaven +and earth until I succeeded in getting inscribed on the lists +for distribution of food, in spite of the orders of the chief. It is +only fair to say that the mayor was a charming man. Madame +Guérard returned, after her third visit, with a child pushing +a hand-barrow containing ten enormous bottles of the miraculous +meat. I received the precious consignment with infinite joy, for +my men had been almost without meat for the last three days, +and the beloved <i><span lang="fr">pot-au-feu</span></i> was an almost necessary resource for +the poor wounded fellows. On all the bottles were directions as +to opening them: “Let the meat soak so many hours,” &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Lambquin, Madame Guérard, and I, together with +all the staff of the infirmary, were soon grouped anxiously +and inquisitively around these glass receptacles.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I told the head attendant to open the largest of the bottles, +in which through the thick glass we could see an enormous +piece of beef surrounded by thick, muddled-looking water. The +string fastened round the rough paper which hid the cork was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>cut, and then, just as the man was about to put the corkscrew +in, a deafening explosion was heard and a rank odour filled the +room. Every one rushed away terrified. I called them all +back, scared and disgusted as they were, and showed them the +following words on the directions: “Do not be alarmed at the +bad odour on opening the bottle.” Courageously and with +resignation we resumed our work, though we felt sick all the +time from the abominable exhalation. I took the beef out and +placed it on a dish that had been brought for the purpose. +Five minutes later this meat turned blue and then black, and +the stench from it was so unbearable that I decided to throw +it away. Madame Lambquin was wiser, though, and more +reasonable.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, oh no, my dear girl,” she said; “in these times it will +not do to throw meat away, even though it may be rotten. +Let us put it in the glass bottle again and send it back to the +<em>Mairie</em>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I followed her wise advice, and it was a very good thing I did, +for another ambulance, installed at Boulevard Medicis, on +opening these bottles of meat had been as horrified as we were, +and had thrown the contents into the street. A few minutes +after the crowd had gathered round in a mob, and, refusing to +listen to anything, had yelled out insults addressed to “the +aristocrats,” “the clericals,” and “the traitors,” who were +throwing good meat, intended for the sick, into the street, so +that the dogs were enjoying it, while the people were starving +with hunger, &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was with the greatest difficulty that the wretched, mad +people had been prevented from invading the ambulance, and +when one of the unfortunate nurses had gone out, later on, she +had been mobbed and beaten until she was left half dead from +fright and blows. She did not want to be carried back to her +own ambulance, and the druggist begged me to take her in. +I kept her for a few days, in one of the upper tier boxes of +the theatre, and when she was better she asked if she might stay +with me as a nurse. I granted her wish, and kept her with me +afterwards as a maid.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was a fair-haired girl, gentle and timid, and was pre-destined +for misfortune. She was found dead in the Père +Lachaise cemetery after the skirmish between the Communists +<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>and the Versailles troop. A stray bullet struck her in the back +of the neck as she was praying at the grave of her little sister, +who had died two days before from small-pox. I had taken her +with me to St. Germain, where I had gone to stay during the +horrors of the Commune. Poor girl! I had allowed her to go +to Paris very much against my own will.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As we could not count on this preserved meat for our food, +I made a contract with a knacker, who agreed to supply me, at +rather a high price, with horse flesh, and until the end this was +the only meat we had to eat. Well prepared and well seasoned, +it was very good.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Hope had now fled from all hearts, and we were living in the +expectation of we knew not what. An atmosphere of misfortune +seemed to hang like lead over us, and it was a sort of relief when +the bombardment commenced on December 27. At last we +felt that something new was happening! It was an era of +fresh suffering. There was some stir, at any rate. For the last +fortnight the fact of not knowing anything had been killing us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On January 1, 1871, we lifted our glasses to the health of the +absent ones, to the repose of the dead, and the toast choked +us with such a lump in our throats.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Every night we used to hear the dismal cry of “Ambulance! +Ambulance!” underneath the windows of the Odéon. We +went down to meet the pitiful procession, and one, two, or +sometimes three conveyances would be there, full of our poor, +wounded soldiers. There would be ten or twelve rows of them, +lying or sitting up on the straw. I said that I had room for one +or two, and, lifting the lantern, I looked into the conveyance, +and the faces would then turn slowly towards the lamp. Some of +the men would close their eyes, as they were too weak to bear +even that feeble light. With the help of the sergeant who +accompanied the conveyance and our attendant, one of the +unfortunates would with difficulty be lifted into the narrow +litter on which he was to be carried up to the ambulance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, what sorrowful anguish it was for me when, on lifting the +patient’s head, I discovered that it was getting heavy, oh, so +heavy! And when bending over that inert face I felt that there +was no longer any breath! The sergeant would then give the +order to take him back, and the poor dead man was put in his +place and another wounded man was lifted out.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>The other dying men would then move back a little, in order +not to profane the dead.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ah, what grief it was when the sergeant said: “Do try to +take one or two more in! It is a pity to drag these poor chaps +about from one ambulance to another. The Val-de-Grâce is +full.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very well, I will take two more,” I would say, and then +I wondered where we should put them. We had to give up our +own beds, and in this way the poor fellows were saved. Ever +since January 1 we had all three been sleeping every night at the +ambulance. We had some loose dressing-gowns of thick grey +flannel, not unlike the soldiers’ cloaks. The first of us who heard +a cry or a groan sprang out of bed, and if necessary called the +other two.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On January 10, Madame Guérard and I were sitting up at +night, on one of the lounges in the green-room, awaiting the +dismal cry of “Ambulance!” There had been a fierce affray at +Clamart, and we knew there would be many wounded. I was +telling her of my fear that the bombs which had already reached +the Museum, the Sorbonne, the Salpétrière, the Val-de-Grâce, +&c., would fall on the Odéon.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, but, my dear Sarah,” said the sweet woman, “the +ambulance flag is waving so high above it that there could be +no mistake. If it were struck it would be purposely, and that +would be abominable.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, Guérard,” I replied, “why should you expect these +execrable enemies of ours to be better than we are ourselves? +Did we not behave like savages at Berlin in 1806?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But at Paris there are such admirable public monuments,” +she urged.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, and was not Moscow full of masterpieces? The +Kremlin is one of the finest buildings in the world. That did +not prevent us giving that admirable city up to pillage. Oh no, +my poor <i><span lang="fr">petit Dame</span></i>, do not deceive yourself. Armies may be +Russian, German, French, or Spanish, but they <em>are</em> armies—that +is, they are beings which form an impersonal ‘whole,’ a +‘whole’ that is ferocious and irresponsible. The Germans +will bombard the whole of Paris if the possibility of doing so +should be offered them. You must make up your mind to that, +my dear Guérard——”</p> +<div id='i176fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i176fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT<br> <em>From the portrait in the Théâtre Français</em></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>I had not finished my sentence when a terrible detonation roused +the whole neighbourhood from its slumbers. Madame Guérard +and I had been seated opposite each other. We found ourselves +standing up close together in the middle of the room, terrified. +My poor cook, her face quite white, came to me for safety. The +detonations continued rather frequently. The bombarding had +commenced from our side that night. I went round to the +wounded men, but they did not seem to be much disturbed. +Only one, a boy of fifteen, whom we had surnamed “pink baby,” +was sitting up in bed. When I went to him to soothe him he +showed me his little medal of the Holy Virgin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is thanks to her that I was not killed,” he said. “If they +would put the Holy Virgin on the ramparts of Paris the bombs +would not come.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He lay down again then, holding his little medal in his hand, +and the bombarding continued until six in the morning. +“Ambulance! Ambulance!” we then heard, and Madame +Guérard and I went down. “Here,” said the sergeant, “take +this man. He is losing all his blood, and if I take him any +farther he will not arrive living.” The wounded man was put on +the litter, but as he was German, I asked the sub-officer to take +all his papers and hand them in at the Ministry. We gave the +man the place of one of the convalescents, whom I installed elsewhere. +I asked him his name, and he told me that it was Frantz +Mayer, and that he was a soldier of the Silesian Landwehr. He +then fainted from weakness caused by loss of blood. But he +soon came to himself again with our care, and I then asked him +whether he wanted anything, but he did not answer a word. I +supposed that he did not speak French, and, as there was no one +at the ambulance who spoke German, I waited until the next day +to send for some one who knew his language. I must own that the +poor man was not welcomed by his dormitory companions. A +soldier named Fortin, who was twenty-three years of age and a +veritable child of Paris, a comical fellow, mischievous, droll, and +good-natured, never ceased railing against the young German, +who on his side never flinched. I went several times to Fortin +and begged him to be quiet, but it was all in vain. Every fresh +outbreak of his was greeted with wild laughter, and his success +put him into the gayest of humours, so that he continued, getting +more and more excited. The others were prevented from sleeping, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>and he moved about wildly in his bed, bursting out into +abusive language when too abrupt a movement intensified his +suffering. The unfortunate fellow had had his sciatic nerve torn +by a bullet, and he had to endure the most atrocious pain.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After my third fruitless appeal for silence I ordered the two +men attendants to carry him into a room where he would be +alone. He sent for me, and when I went to him promised to +behave well all night long. I therefore countermanded the +order I had given, and he kept his word. The following day I +had Frantz Mayer carried into a room where there was a young +Breton who had had his skull fractured by the bursting of a +shell, and therefore needed the utmost tranquillity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One of my friends, who spoke German very well, came to see +whether the Silesian wanted anything. The wounded man’s face +lighted up on hearing his own language, and then, turning to +me, he said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I understand French quite well, Madame, and if I listened +calmly to the horrors poured forth by your French soldier it was +because I know that you cannot hold out two days longer, and I +can understand his exasperation.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And why do you think that we cannot hold out?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Because I know that you are reduced to eating rats.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dr. Duchesne had just arrived, and he was dressing the +horrible wound which the patient had in his thigh.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well,” he said, “my friend, as soon as your fever has decreased +you shall eat an excellent wing of chicken.” The German +shrugged his shoulders, and the doctor continued, “Meanwhile +drink this, and tell me what you think of it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dr. Duchesne gave him a glass of water, with a little of the +excellent cognac which the Prefect had sent me. That was the +only <i><span lang="fr">tisane</span></i> that my soldiers took. The Silesian said no more, +but he put on the reserved, circumspect manner of people who +know and will not speak.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The bombardment continued, and the ambulance flag certainly +served as a target for our enemies, for they fired with surprising +exactitude, and altered their firing directly a bomb fell any distance +from the neighbourhood of the Luxembourg. Thanks to +this, we had more than twelve bombs one night. These dismal +shells, when they burst in the air, were like the fireworks at a +<i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i>. The shining splinters then fell down, black and deadly. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>Georges Boyer, who at that time was a young journalist, came +to call on me at the ambulance, and I told him about the +terrifying splendours of the night.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, how much I should like to see all that!” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come this evening, towards nine or ten o’clock, and you will +see,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We spent several hours at the little round window of my +dressing-room, which looked out towards Châtillon. It was from +there that the Germans fired the most.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We listened, in the silence of the night, to the muffled sounds +coming from yonder; there would be a light, a formidable noise +in the distance, and the bomb arrived, falling in front of us or +behind, bursting either in the air or on reaching its goal. Once +we had only just time to draw back quickly, and even then the +disturbance in the atmosphere affected us so violently that for a +second we were under the impression that we had been struck.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The shell had fallen just underneath my dressing-room, +grazing the cornice, which it dragged down in its fall to the +ground, where it burst feebly. But what was our amazement to +see a little crowd of children swoop down on the burning pieces, +just like a lot of sparrows on fresh manure when the carriage +has passed! The little vagabonds were quarrelling over the +<i><span lang="fr">débris</span></i> of these engines of warfare. I wondered what they could +possibly do with them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, there is not much mystery about it,” said Boyer; “these +little starving urchins will sell them.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This proved to be true. One of the men attendants, whom I +sent to find out, brought back with him a child of about ten +years old.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What are you going to do with that, my little man?” I +asked him, picking up the piece of shell, which was warm and +still dangerous, on the edge where it had burst.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am going to sell it,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What for?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“To buy my turn in the <em>queue</em> when the meat is being +distributed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But you risk your life, my poor child. Sometimes the shells +come quickly, one after the other. Where were you when this +one fell?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Lying down on the stone of the wall that supports the iron +<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>railings.” He pointed across to the Luxembourg Gardens, +opposite the stage entrance to the Odéon.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We bought up all the <em>débris</em> that the child had, without +attempting to give him advice which might have sounded wise. +What was the use of preaching wisdom to this poor little +creature, who heard of nothing but massacres, fire, revenge, +retaliation, and all the rest of it, for the sake of honour, for the +sake of religion, for the sake of right? Besides, how was it +possible to keep out of the way? All the people living in the +Faubourg St. Germain were liable to be blown to pieces, as the +enemy very luckily could only bombard Paris on that side, and +not at every point. No; we were certainly in the most +dangerous neighbourhood.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day Baron Larrey came to see Frantz Mayer, who was +very ill. He wrote a prescription which a young errand boy +was told to wait for and bring back very, very quickly. As +the boy was rather given to loitering, I went to the window. +His name was Victor, but we called him “Toto.” The +druggist lived at the corner of the Place Medicis. It was +then six o’clock in the evening. Toto looked up, and on +seeing me he began to laugh and jump as he hurried to the +druggist’s. He had only five or six more yards to go, and as he +turned round to look up at my window I clapped my hands +and called out, “Good! Be quick back!” Alas! Before the +poor boy could open his mouth to reply he was cut in two by a +shell which had just fallen. It did not burst, but bounced a +yard high, and then struck poor Toto right in the middle of the +chest. I uttered such a shriek that every one came rushing to +me. I could not speak, but pushed every one aside and rushed +downstairs, beckoning for some one to come with me. “A +litter”—“the boy”—“the druggist”—I managed to articulate. +Ah, what a horror, what an awful horror! When we reached +the poor child his intestines were all over the ground, his chest +and his poor little red chubby face had the flesh entirely taken +off. He had neither eyes, nose, nor mouth; nothing, nothing +but some hair at the end of a shapeless, bleeding mass, a yard +away from his head. It was as though a tiger had torn open the +body with its claws and emptied it with fury and a refinement +of cruelty, leaving nothing but the poor little skeleton.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Baron Larrey, who was the best of men, turned slightly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>pale at this sight. He saw plenty such, certainly, but this +poor little fellow was a quite useless holocaust. Ah, the injustice, the infamy of war! Will the much dreamed of time +never come when wars are no longer possible; when the +monarch who wants war will be dethroned and imprisoned as a +malefactor? Will the time never come when there will be a +cosmopolitan council, where a wise man of every country will +represent his nation, and where the rights of humanity will be +discussed and respected? So many men think as I do, so many +women talk as I do, and yet nothing is done. The pusillanimity +of an Oriental, the ill humour of a sovereign, may still bring +thousands of men face to face. And there will still be men who +are so learned, chemists who spend their time in dreaming about, +and inventing a powder to blow everything up, bombs that will +wound twenty or thirty men, guns repeating their deadly task +until the bullets fall, spent themselves, after having torn open +ten or twelve human breasts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A man whom I liked very much was busy experimenting how +to steer balloons. To achieve that means a realisation of my +dream, namely, to fly in the air, to approach the sky, and have +under one’s feet the moist, down-like clouds. Ah, how interested +I was in my friend’s researches! One day, though, he came to +me very much excited with a new discovery.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I have discovered something about which I am wild with +delight!” he said. He then began to explain to me that his +balloon would be able to carry inflammable matter without the +least danger, thanks to this and thanks to that.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But what for?” I asked, bewildered by his explanations and +half crazy with so many technical words.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What for?” he repeated; “why, for war!” he replied. +“We shall be able to fire and to throw terrible bombs to a distance +of a thousand, twelve hundred, and even fifteen hundred yards, +and it would be impossible for us to be harmed at such a distance. +My balloons, thanks to a substance which is my invention, +with which the covering would be coated, would have nothing to +fear from fire nor yet from gas.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I do not want to know anything more about you or your +invention,” I said, interrupting him brusquely. “I thought you +were a humane savant, and you are a wild beast. Your researches +were in connection with the most beautiful manifestation of human +<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>genius, with those evolutions in the sky which I loved so dearly. +You want now to transform these into cowardly attacks turned +against the earth. You horrify me! Do go!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>With this I left my friend to himself and his cruel invention, +ashamed for a moment. His efforts have not succeeded, though, +according to his wishes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The remains of the poor lad were put into a small coffin, and +Madame Guérard and I followed the pauper’s hearse to the grave. +The morning was so cold that the driver had to stop and take a +glass of hot wine, as otherwise he might have died of congestion. +We were alone in the carriage, for the boy had been brought up +by his grandmother, who could not walk at all, and who knitted +vests and stockings. It was through going to order some vests +and socks for my men that I had made the acquaintance of Mère +Tricottin, as she was called. At her request I had engaged her +grandson, Victor Durieux, as an errand boy, and the poor old +woman had been so grateful that I dared not go now to tell her +of his death.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Guérard went for me to the Rue de Vaugirard, +where the old woman lived. As soon as she arrived the poor +grandmother could see by her sad face that something had +happened.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Bon Dieu</span></i>, my dear Madame, is the poor little thin lady +dead?” This referred to me. Madame Guérard then told her, as +gently as possible, the sad news. The old woman took off her +spectacles, looked at her visitor, wiped them, and put them on +her nose again. She then began to grumble violently about her +son, the father of the dead boy. He had taken up with some +low girl, by whom he had had this child, and she had always +foreseen that misfortune would come upon them through it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She continued in this strain, not sorrowing for the poor boy, +but abusing her son, who was a soldier in the Army of the +Loire.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Although the grandmother seemed to feel so little grief, I +went to see her after the funeral.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is all over, Madame Durieux,” I said. “But I have +secured the grave for a period of five years for the poor boy.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She turned towards me, quite comic in her vexation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What madness!” she exclaimed. “Now that he’s with the +<i><span lang="fr">bon Dieu</span></i> he won’t want for anything. It would have been +<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>better to have taken a bit of land that would have brought +something in. Dead folks don’t make vegetables grow.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This outburst was so terribly logical that, in spite of the +odious brutality of it, I yielded to Mère Tricottin’s desire, and +gave her the same present I had given to the boy. They should +each have their bit of land. The child, who had had a right to +a longer life, should sleep his eternal sleep in his, whilst the old +woman could wrest from hers the remainder of her life, for +which death was lying in wait.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned to the ambulance, sad and unnerved. A joyful +surprise was awaiting me. A friend of mine was there, holding +in his hand a very small piece of tissue paper, on which were the +following two lines in my mother’s handwriting: “We are all +very well, and at Homburg.” I was furious on reading this. At +Homburg? All my family at Homburg, settling down tranquilly +in the enemy’s country. I racked my brains to think by +what extraordinary combination my mother had gone to Homburg. +I knew that my pretty Aunt Rosine had a lady friend there, +with whom she stayed every year, for she always spent two +months at Homburg, two at Baden-Baden, and one month +at Spa, as she was the greatest gambler that the <i><span lang="fr">bon Dieu</span></i> ever +created. Anyhow, those who were so dear to me were all well, +and that was the important point. But I was nevertheless annoyed +with my mother for going to Homburg.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I heartily thanked the friend who had brought me the little +slip of paper. It was sent to me by the American Minister, who +had put himself to no end of trouble in order to give help and +consolation to the Parisians. I then gave him a few lines for +my mother, in case he might be able to send them to her.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The bombardment of Paris continued. One night the +brothers from the Ecole Chrétienne came to ask us for conveyances +and help, in order to collect the dead on the Châtillon +Plateau. I let them have my two conveyances, and I went with +them to the battle-field. Ah, what a terrible memory! It was +like a scene from Dante! It was an icy cold night, and we +could scarcely move along. Finally, by the light of torches and +lanterns, we saw that we had arrived. I got out of the vehicle +with the infirmary attendant and his assistant. We had to +move slowly, as at every step we trod upon the dying or the +dead. We passed along murmuring, “Ambulance! Ambulance!” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>When we heard a groan we turned our steps in the direction +whence it came. Ah, the first man that I found in this +way! He was half lying down, his body supported by a heap +of dead. I raised my lantern to look at his face, and found that +his ear and part of his jaw had been blown off. Great clots +of blood, coagulated by the cold, hung from his lower jaw. +There was a wild look in his eyes. I took a wisp of straw, +dipped it in my flask, drew up a few drops of brandy, and blew +them into the poor fellow’s mouth between his teeth. I +repeated this three or four times. A little life then came back to +him, and we took him away in one of the vehicles. The same +thing was done for the others. Some of them could drink from +the flask, which made our work shorter. One of these unfortunate +men was frightful to look at. A shell had taken all the +clothes from the upper part of his body, with the exception of +two ragged sleeves, which hung from the arms at the shoulders. +There was no trace of a wound, but his poor body was marked +all over with great black patches, and the blood was oozing +slowly from the corners of his mouth. I went nearer to him, for +it seemed to me that he was breathing. I had a few drops of +the vivifying cordial given to him, and he then half opened his +eyes and said, “Thank you.” He was lifted into the conveyance, +but the poor fellow died from an attack of hæmorrhage, +covering all the other wounded men with a stream of dark blood.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Daylight gradually began to appear, a misty, dull dawn. +The lanterns had burnt out, but we could now distinguish each +other. There were about a hundred persons there: sisters of +charity, military and civil male hospital attendants, the brothers +from the Ecole Chrétienne, other priests, and a few ladies who, +like myself, had given themselves up heart and soul to the service +of the wounded.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The sight was still more dismal by daylight, for all that the +night had hidden in the shadows appeared then in the tardy, +wan light of that January morning.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There were so many wounded that it was impossible to +transport them all, and I sobbed at the thought of my helplessness. +Other vehicles kept arriving, but there were so many +wounded, so very many. A number of those who had only +slight wounds had died of cold.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On returning to the ambulance I met one of my friends at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>the door. He was a naval officer, and he had brought me a +sailor who had been wounded at the fort of Ivry. He had been +shot below the right eye. He was entered as Désiré Bloas, +boatswain’s mate, age 27. He was a magnificent fellow, very +frank looking, and a man of few words. As soon as he was in +bed, Dr. Duchesne sent for a barber to shave him, as his bushy +whiskers had been ravaged by a bullet that had lodged itself in +the salivary gland, carrying with it hair and flesh into the +wound. The surgeon took up his pincers to extract the pieces +of flesh which had stopped up the opening of the wound. He +then had to take some very fine pincers to extract the hairs +which had been forced in. When the barber laid his razor +very gently near the wound, the unfortunate man turned livid +and an oath escaped his lips. He immediately glanced at +me and muttered, “Pardon, Mademoiselle.” I was very young, +but I appeared much younger than my age; I looked like a very +young girl, in fact. I was holding the poor fellow’s hand in +mine and trying to comfort him with the hundreds of +consoling words that spring from a woman’s heart to her lips +when she has to soothe moral or physical suffering.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, Mademoiselle,” said poor Bloas, when the wound was +finally dressed, “you gave me courage.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>When he was more at his ease I asked him if he would like +something to eat.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, my boy, would you like cheese, soup, or sweets?” +asked Madame Lambquin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Sweets,” replied the powerful-looking fellow, smiling.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Désiré Bloas often talked to me about his mother, who lived +near Brest. He had a veritable adoration for this mother, but +he seemed to have a terrible grudge against his father, for one +day, when I asked him whether his father was still living, he +looked up with his fearless eyes and appeared to fix them on a +being only visible to himself, as though challenging him, with +an expression of the most pitiful contempt. Alas! the brave +fellow was destined to a cruel end, but I will return to that +later.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The sufferings endured through the siege began to have their +effect on the <i><span lang="fr">morale</span></i> of the Parisians. Bread had just been +rationed out: there were to be 300 grammes for adults and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>150 grammes for children. A silent fury took possession of the +people at this news. Women were the most courageous, the +men were excited. Quarrels grew bitter, for some wanted war +to the very death, and others wanted peace.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day when I entered Frantz Mayer’s room to take him his +meal, he went into the most ridiculous rage. He threw his piece +of chicken down on the ground, and declared that he would not +eat anything, nothing more at all, for they had deceived him by +telling him that the Parisians had not enough food to last two +days before surrendering, and he had been in the ambulance +seventeen days now, and was having chicken. What the poor +fellow did not know was that I had bought about forty chickens +and six geese at the beginning of the siege, and I was feeding +them up in my dressing-room in the Rue de Rome. Oh, my +dressing-room was very pretty just then; but I let Frantz believe +that all Paris was full of chickens, ducks, geese, and other +domestic bipeds.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The bombardment continued, and one night I had to have all +my patients transported to the Odéon cellars, for when Madame +Guérard was helping one of the sick men to get back into bed, a +shell fell on the bed itself, between her and the officer. It makes +me shudder even now to think that three minutes sooner the +unfortunate man would have been killed as he lay in bed, although +the shell did not burst.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We could not stay long in the cellars. The water was getting +deeper in them, and rats tormented us. I therefore decided that +the ambulance must be moved, and I had the worst of the +patients conveyed to the Val-de-Grâce Hospital. I kept about +twenty men who were on the road to convalescence. I rented an +immense empty flat for them at 58 Rue Taitbout, and it was +there that we awaited the armistice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was half dead with anxiety, as I had had no news from my +own family for a long time. I could not sleep, and had become +the very shadow of my former self.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jules Favre was entrusted with the negotiations with Bismarck. +Oh, those two days of preliminaries! They were the most unnerving +days of any for the besieged. False reports were spread. +We were told of the maddest and most exorbitant demands on +the part of the Germans, who certainly were not tender to the +vanquished.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>There was a moment of stupor when we heard that we had +to pay two hundred million francs in cash immediately, for our +finances were in such a pitiful state that we shuddered at the idea +that we might not be able to make up the sum of two hundred +millions.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Baron Alphonse de Rothschild, who was shut up in Paris with +his wife and brothers, gave his signature for the two hundred +millions. This fine deed was soon forgotten, and there are even +people who gainsay it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ah, the ingratitude of the masses is a disgrace to civilised +humanity! “Ingratitude is the evil peculiar to the white races,” +said a Red-skin, and he was right.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When we heard in Paris that the armistice was signed for +twenty days, a frightful sadness took possession of us all, even +of those who most ardently wished for peace.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Every Parisian felt on his cheek the hand of the conqueror. +It was the brand of shame, the blow given by the abominable +treaty of peace.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that 31st of January 1871! I remember so well that I +was anæmic from privation, undermined by grief, tortured with +anxiety about my family, and I went out with Madame Guérard +and two friends towards the Parc Monceau. Suddenly one of +my friends, M. de Plancy, turned as pale as death. I looked to +see what was the matter, and noticed a soldier passing by. He +had no weapons. Two others passed, and they also had no +weapons. And they were so pale too, these poor disarmed +soldiers, these humble heroes; there was such evident grief and +hopelessness in their very gait; and their eyes, as they looked at +us women, seemed to say, “It is not our fault!” It was all so +pitiful, so touching. I burst out sobbing, and went back home +at once, for I did not want to meet any more disarmed French +soldiers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I decided to set off now as quickly as possible in search of my +family. I asked Paul de Rémusat to get me an audience with +M. Thiers, in order to obtain from him a passport for leaving +Paris. But I could not go alone. I felt that the journey I was +about to undertake was a very dangerous one. M. Thiers and +Paul de Rémusat had warned me of this. I could see, therefore, +that I should be constantly in the society of my travelling +companion, and on this account I decided not to take a servant +<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>with me, but a friend. I very naturally went at once to Madame +Guérard. Her husband, gentle though he was, refused absolutely +to let her go with me, as he considered this expedition mad and +dangerous. Mad it certainly was, and dangerous too.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not insist, but I sent for my son’s governess, Mlle. +Soubise. I asked her whether she would go with me, and did not +attempt to conceal from her any of the dangers of the journey. +She jumped with joy, and said she would be ready within twelve +hours. This girl is at present the wife of Commandant Monfils +Chesneau. And how strange life is, for she is now teaching the +two daughters of my son, her former pupil.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Soubise was then very young, and in appearance like a +Creole. She had very beautiful dark eyes, with a gentle, timid +expression, and the voice of a child. Her head, however, was +full of adventure, romance, and day-dreams. In appearance we +might both have been taken for quite young girls, for, although +I was older than she was, my slenderness and my face made me +look younger. It would have been absurd to try to take a trunk +with us, so I took a bag for us both. We only had a change of +linen and some stockings. I had my revolver, and I offered one +to Mlle. Soubise, but she refused it with horror, and showed me +an enormous pair of scissors in an enormous case.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But what are you going to do with them?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I shall kill myself if we are attacked,” she replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was surprised at the difference in our characters. I was +taking a revolver, determined to protect myself by killing others; +she was determined to protect herself by killing herself.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XVIII<br> <span class='large'>A BOLD JOURNEY THROUGH THE GERMAN LINES</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>On February 4 we started on this journey, which was to have +lasted three days, and lasted eleven. At the first gate at which +I presented myself for leaving Paris I was sent back in the most +brutal fashion. Permissions to go outside the city had to be submitted +for signature at the German outposts. I went to another +gate, but it was only at the postern gate of Poissonniers that I +could get my passport signed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were taken into a little shed which had been transformed +into an office. A Prussian general was seated there. He looked +me up and down, and then said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you Sarah Bernhardt?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And this young lady is with you?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you think you are going to cross easily?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I hope so.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, you are mistaken, and you would do better to +stay inside Paris.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; I want to leave. I’ll see myself what will happen, +but I want to leave.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He shrugged his shoulders, called an officer, said something I +did not understand in German, and then went out, leaving us +alone without our passports.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had been there about a quarter of an hour when I suddenly +heard a voice I knew. It was that of one of my friends, +René Griffon, who had heard of my departure, and had come +after me to try to dissuade me. The trouble he had taken was +all in vain, though, as I was determined to leave. The general +<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>returned soon after, and Griffon was anxious to know what might +happen to us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Everything!” returned the officer. “And worse than +everything!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Griffon spoke German, and had a short colloquy with the +officer about us. This rather annoyed me, for, as I did not +understand, I imagined that he was urging the general to +prevent us from starting. I nevertheless resisted all persuasions, +supplications, and even threats. A few minutes later a well-appointed vehicle drew up at the door of the shed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There you are!” said the German officer roughly. “I +am sending you to Gonesse, where you will find the provision +train which starts in an hour. I am recommending you to the +care of the station-master, the Commandant X. After that +may God take care of you!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stepped into the general’s carriage, and said farewell to my +friend, who was in despair. We arrived at Gonesse, and got out +at the station, where we saw a little group of people talking in +low voices. The coachman made me a military salute, refused +what I wished to give him, and drove away at full speed. I +advanced towards the group, wondering to whom I ought to +speak, when a friendly voice exclaimed, “What, you here! +Where have you come from? Where are you going?” It was +Villaret, the tenor in vogue at the Opéra. He was going to his +young wife, I believe, of whom he had had no news for five months. +He introduced one of his friends, who was travelling with him, +and whose name I do not remember; General Pelissier’s son, and +a very old man, so pale, and so sad-looking and woebegone, that +I felt quite sorry for him. He was a M. Gerson, and was +going to Belgium to take his grandson to his godmother’s. +His two sons had been killed during this pitiful war. One of +the sons was married, and his wife had died of sorrow and +despair. He was taking the orphan boy to his godmother, and +he hoped to die himself as soon as possible afterwards.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ah, the poor fellow, he was only fifty-nine then, and he was +so cruelly ravaged by his grief that I took him for seventy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Besides these five persons, there was an unbearable chatterer +named Théodore Joussian, a wine dealer. Oh, he did not require +any introduction.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“How do you do, Madame?” he began. “How fortunate +<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>that you are going to travel with us. Ah, the journey will +be a difficult one. Where are you going? Two women alone! +It is not at all prudent, especially as all the routes are crowded +with German and French sharpshooters, marauders, and thieves. +Oh, haven’t I demolished some of those German sharpshooters! +Sh—— We must speak quietly, though; these sly fellows are +very quick of hearing!” He then pointed to the German +officers who were walking up and down. “Ah, the rascals!” he +went on. “If I had my uniform and my gun they would +not walk so boldly in front of Théodore Joussian. I have no +fewer than six helmets at home....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The man got on my nerves, and I turned my back on him and +looked to see which of the men before me could be the station-master.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A tall young German, with his arm in a sling, came towards +me with an open letter. It was the one which the general’s +coachman had handed to him, recommending me to his care. +He held out his sound arm to me, but I refused it. He bowed +and led the way, and I followed him, accompanied by Mlle. +Soubise.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving in his office he gave us seats at a little table, +upon which knives and forks were placed for two persons. It +was then three o’clock in the afternoon, and we had had nothing, +not even a drop of water, since the evening before. I was very +much touched by this thoughtfulness, and we did honour to +the very simple but refreshing meal offered us by the young +officer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Whilst we lunched I looked at him when he was not noticing me. +He was very young, and his face bore traces of recent suffering. +I felt a compassionate tenderness for this unfortunate man, who +was crippled for life, and my hatred for war increased still +more.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He suddenly said to me, in rather bad French, “I think I can +give you news of one of your friends.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What is his name?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Emmanuel Bocher.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, he is certainly a great friend of mine. How is he?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“He is still a prisoner, but he is very well.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But I thought he had been released,” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Some of those who were taken with him were released, on +<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>giving their word never to take up arms against us again, but +he refused to give his word.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, the brave soldier!” I exclaimed, in spite of myself.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The young German looked at me with his clear sad eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” he said simply, “the brave soldier!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>When we had finished our luncheon I rose to return to the +other travellers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The compartment reserved for you will not be here for two +hours,” said the young officer. “If you would like to rest, ladies, +I will come for you at the right time.” He went away, and +before long I was sound asleep. I was nearly dead with +fatigue.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Soubise touched me on the shoulder to rouse me. The +train was ready to start, and the young officer walked with me to +it. I was a little amazed when I saw the carriage in which I was +to travel. It had no roof, and was filled with coal. The officer +had several empty sacks put in, one on the top of the other, to +make our seats less hard. He sent for his officer’s cloak, begging +me to take it with us and send it him back, but I refused this +odious disguise most energetically. It was a deadly cold day, but +I preferred dying of cold to muffling up in a cloak belonging to +the enemy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The whistle was blown, the wounded officer saluted, and the +train started. There were Prussian soldiers in the carriages. +The subordinates, the employés, and the soldiers were just as +brutish and rude as the German officers were polite and +courteous.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The train stopped without any plausible reason, it started +again to stop again, and it then stood still for an hour on this +icy cold night. On arriving at Creil, the stoker, the engine-driver, +the soldiers, and every one else got out. I watched all +these men, whistling, bawling to each other, spitting, and bursting +into laughter as they pointed to us. Were they not the conquerors +and we the conquered?</p> + +<p class='c013'>At Creil we stayed more than two hours. We could hear the +distant sound of foreign music and the hurrahs of Germans who +were making merry. All this hubbub came from a white house +about five hundred yards away. We could distinguish the outlines +of human beings locked in each other’s arms, waltzing and +turning round and round in a giddy revel.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>It began to get on my nerves, for it seemed likely to continue +until daylight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I got out with Villaret, intending at any rate to stretch my +limbs. We went towards the white house, and then, as I did +not want to tell him my plan, I asked him to wait there for me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Very fortunately, though, for me, I had not time to cross the +threshold of this vile lodging-house, for an officer, smoking a +cigarette, was just coming out of a small door. He spoke to me +in German.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am French,” I replied, and he then came up to me, speaking +my language, for they could all talk French.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He asked me what I was doing there. My nerves were overstrung. +I told him feverishly of our lamentable Odyssey since +our departure from Gonesse, and finally of our waiting two hours +in an icy cold carriage while the stokers, engine-drivers, and +conductors were all dancing in this house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But I had no idea that there were passengers in those carriages, +and it was I who gave permission to these men to dance and +drink. The guard of the train told me that he was taking cattle +and goods, and that he did not need to arrive before eight in the +morning, and I believed him——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, Monsieur,” I said, “the only cattle in the train are +the eight French passengers, and I should be very much +obliged if you would give orders that the journey should be +continued.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Make your mind easy about that, Madame,” he replied. +“Will you come in and rest? I am here just now on a round of +inspection, and am staying for a few days in this inn. You shall +have a cup of tea, and that will refresh you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I told him that I had a friend waiting for me in the road and +a lady in the railway carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But that makes no difference,” he said. “Let us go and +fetch them.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few minutes later we found poor Villaret seated on a milestone. +His head was on his knees, and he was asleep. I asked +him to fetch Mlle. Soubise.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And if your other travelling companions will come and take +a cup of tea they will be welcome,” said the officer. I went back +with him, and we entered by the little door through which I had +seen him come out. It was a fairly large room which we entered, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>on a level with the meadow; there were some mats on the floor, +a very low bed, and an enormous table, on which were two large +maps of France. One of these was studded over with pins and +small flags. There was also a portrait of the Emperor William, +mounted and fastened up with four pins. All this belonged +to the officer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the chimney-piece, under an enormous glass shade, were +a bride’s wreath, a military medal, and a plait of white hair. +On each side of the glass shade was a china vase containing +a branch of box. All this, together with the table and the +bed, belonged to the landlady, who had given up her room to +the officer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There were five cane chairs round the table, a velvet arm-chair, +and a wooden bench covered with books against the +wall. A sword and belt were lying on the table, and two +horse-pistols.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was philosophising to myself on all these heterogeneous +objects, when the others arrived: Mlle. Soubise, Villaret, young +Gerson, and that unbearable Théodore Joussian. (I hope he +will forgive me if he is living now, poor man, but the thought +of him still irritates me.)</p> + +<p class='c013'>The officer had some boiling hot tea made for us, and +it was a veritable treat, as we were exhausted with hunger and +cold.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the door was opened for the tea to be brought in +Théodore Joussian caught a glimpse of the throng of girls, +soldiers, and other people.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, my friends,” he exclaimed, with a burst of laughter, +“we are at His Majesty William’s; there is a reception on, and +it’s <i><span lang="fr">chic</span></i>—I can tell you that!” With this he smacked his +tongue twice. Villaret reminded him that we were the guests +of a German, and that it was preferable to be quiet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That’s enough, that’s enough!” he replied, lighting a +cigarette.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A frightful uproar of oaths and shouts now took the place of +the deafening sound of the orchestra, and the incorrigible +Southerner half opened the door.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could see the officer giving orders to two sub-officers, who +in their turn separated the groups, seizing the stoker, the +engine-driver, and the other men belonging to the train, so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>roughly that I was sorry for them. They were kicked in the +back, they received blows with the flat of the sword on the +shoulder; a blow with the butt end of a gun knocked the +guard of the train down. He was the ugliest brute, though, +that I have ever seen. All these people were sobered in a few +seconds, and went back towards our carriage with a hang-dog +look and a threatening mien.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We followed them, but I did not feel any too satisfied as to +what might happen to us on the way with this queer lot. The +officer evidently had a similar idea, for he ordered one of the +sub-officers to accompany us as far as Amiens. This sub-officer +got into our carriage, and we set off again. We arrived at +Amiens at six in the morning. Daylight had not yet succeeded +in piercing through the night clouds. Light rain was falling, +which was hardened by the cold. There was not a carriage to be +had, not even a porter. I wanted to go to the Hôtel du +Cheval-Blanc, but a man who happened to be there said to me: +“It’s no use, my little lady; there’s no room there, even for a +lath like you. Go to the house over there with a balcony; +they can put some people up.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>With these words he turned his back on me. Villaret had +gone off without saying a word. M. Gerson and his +grandson had disappeared silently in a covered country cart +hermetically closed. A stout, ruddy, thick-set matronly woman +was waiting for them, but the coachman looked as though he +were in the service of well-to-do people. General Pelissier’s +son, who had not uttered a word since we had left Gonesse, +had disappeared like a ball from the hands of a conjurer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Théodore Joussian politely offered to accompany us, and +I was so weary that I accepted his offer. He picked up our +bag and began to walk at full speed, so that we had difficulty +in keeping up with him. He was so breathless with the walk +that he could not talk, which was a great relief to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally we arrived at the house and entered, but my horror +was great on seeing that the hall of the hotel had been transformed +into a dormitory. We could scarcely walk between the +mattresses laid down on the ground, and the grumbling of the +people was by no means promising.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When once we were in the office a young girl in mourning +told us that there was not a room vacant. I sank down on a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>chair, and Mlle. Soubise leaned against the wall with her arms +hanging down, looking most dejected.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The odious Joussian then yelled out that they could not let +two women as young as we were be out in the street all night. +He went to the proprietress of the hotel and said something +quietly about me. I do not know what it was, but I heard my +name distinctly. The young woman in mourning then looked +up with moist eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My brother was a poet,” she said. “He wrote a very pretty +sonnet about you after seeing you play in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite> more than +ten times. He took me, too, to see you, and I enjoyed myself +so much that night. It is all over, though.” She lifted her +hands towards her head and sobbed, trying to stifle back her +cries. “It’s all over!” she repeated. “He is dead! They +have killed him! It is all over! All over!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I got up, moved to the depth of my being by this terrible +grief. I put my arms round her and kissed her, crying myself, +and whispering to her words of comfort and hope.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Calmed by my words and touched by my sisterliness, she wiped +her eyes, and taking my hand, led me gently away. Soubise +followed. I signed to Joussian in an authoritative way to stay +where he was, and we went up the two flights of stairs of the +hotel in silence. At the end of a narrow corridor she opened a +door. We found ourselves in rather a big room, reeking with +the smell of tobacco. A small night-lamp, placed on a little +table by the bed, was the only light in this large room. The +wheezing respiration of a human breast disturbed the silence. +I looked towards the bed, and by the faint light from the little +lamp I saw a man half seated, propped up by a heap of pillows. +The man was aged-looking rather than really old. His beard +and hair were white, and his face bore traces of suffering. Two +large furrows were formed from the eyes to the corners of the +mouth. What tears must have rolled down that poor emaciated +face!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The girl went quietly towards the bed, signed to us to come +inside the room, and then shut the door. We walked across on +tip-toes to the far end of the room, our arms stretched out to +maintain our equilibrium. I sat down with precaution on a +large Empire couch, and Soubise took a seat beside me. The +man in bed half opened his eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>“What is it, my child?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Nothing, father; nothing serious,” she replied. “I wanted to +tell you, so that you should not be surprised when you woke +up. I have just given hospitality in our room to two ladies who +are here.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He turned his head in an annoyed way, and tried to look at +us at the end of the room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The lady with fair hair,” continued the girl, “is Sarah +Bernhardt, whom Lucien liked so much, you remember?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The man sat up, and shading his eyes with his hand peered at +us. I went near to him. He gazed at me silently, and then +made a gesture with his hand. His daughter understood the +gesture, and brought him an envelope from a small bureau. The +unhappy father’s hands trembled as he took it. He drew out +slowly three sheets of paper and a photograph. He fixed his +gaze on me and then on the portrait.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, yes; it certainly is you, it certainly is you,” he +murmured.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I recognised my photograph, taken in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, smelling a +rose.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You see,” said the poor man, his eyes veiled by tears, “you +were this child’s idol. These are the lines he wrote about you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He then read me, in his quavering voice, with a slight Picardian +accent, a very pretty sonnet, which he refused to give me. +He then unfolded a second paper, on which some verses to Sarah +Bernhardt were scrawled. The third paper was a sort of triumphant +chant, celebrating all our victories over the enemy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The poor fellow still hoped, until he was killed,” said the +father. “He has only been dead five weeks. He had three +shots in his head. The first shattered his jaw, but he did +not fall. He continued firing on the scoundrels like a man possessed. +The second took his ear off, and the third struck him in +his right eye. He fell then, never to rise again. His comrade +told us all this. He was twenty-two years old. And now—it’s +all over!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The unhappy man’s head fell back on the heap of pillows. +His two inert hands had let the papers fall, and great tears +rolled down his pale cheeks, in the furrows formed by grief. A +stifled groan burst from his lips. The girl had fallen on her +knees, and buried her head in the bed-clothes, to deaden the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>sound of her sobs. Soubise and I were completely upset. Ah! +those stifled sobs, those deadened groans seemed to buzz in my +ears, and I felt everything giving way under me. I stretched my +hands out into space and closed my eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Soon there was a distant rumbling noise, which increased and +came nearer; then yells of pain, bones knocking against each +other, the dull sound of horses’ feet dashing out human brains; +armed men passed by like a destructive whirlwind, shouting, +“<i><span lang="fr">Vive la guerre!</span></i>” And women on their knees, with outstretched +arms, crying out, “War is infamous! In the name of our +wombs which bore you, of our breasts which suckled you, in the +name of our pain in childbirth, in the name of our anguish over +your cradles, let this cease!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But the savage whirlwind passed by, riding over the women. +I stretched my arms out in a supreme effort which woke me suddenly. +I was lying in the girl’s bed. Mlle. Soubise, who was +near me, was holding my hand. A man whom I did not know, +but whom some one called doctor, laid me gently down again on +the bed. I had some difficulty in collecting my thoughts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“How long have I been here?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Since last night,” replied the gentle voice of Soubise. “You +fainted, and the doctor told us that you had an attack of fever. +Oh, I have been very frightened!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I turned my face to the doctor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, dear lady,” he said. “You must be very prudent now +for the next forty-eight hours, and then you may set out again. +But you have had a great many shocks for one with such delicate +health. You must take care.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took the draught that he was holding out to me, apologised +to the owner of the house, who had just come in, and then +turned round with my face to the wall. I needed rest so very, +very much.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two days later I left our sad but kindly hosts. My +travelling companions had all disappeared. When I went downstairs +I kept meeting Prussians, for the unfortunate proprietor +had been invaded compulsorily by the German army. He looked +at each soldier and at every officer, trying to find out whether he +were not in presence of the one who had killed his poor boy. +He did not tell me this, but it was my idea. It seemed to me +that such was his thought and such the meaning of his gaze.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>In the vehicle in which I drove to the station the kind man +had put a basket of food. He also gave me a copy of the sonnet +and a tracing of his son’s photograph.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left the desolate couple with the deepest emotion, and I +kissed the girl on taking our departure. Soubise and I did not +exchange a word on our journey to the railway station, but we +were both preoccupied with the same distressing thoughts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the station we found that the Germans were masters there +too. I asked for a first-class compartment to ourselves, or for a +<i><span lang="fr">coupé</span></i>, whatever they liked, provided we were alone.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could not make myself understood.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I saw a man, oiling the wheels of the carriages, who looked +to me like a Frenchman. I was not mistaken. He was an old +man who had been kept on, partly out of charity and partly +because he knew every nook and corner, and, being Alsatian, +spoke German. This good man took me to the booking office, +and explained my wish to have a first-class compartment to +myself. The man who had charge of the ticket office burst out +laughing. There was neither first nor second class, he said. It +was a German train, and I should have to travel like every one +else. The wheel-oiler turned purple with rage, which he quickly +suppressed. (He had to keep his place. His consumptive wife +was nursing their son, who had just been sent home from the +hospital with his leg cut off and the wound not yet healed +up. There were so many in the hospital.) All this he told me +as he took me to the station-master. The latter spoke French +very well, but he was not at all like the other German officers I +had met.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He scarcely saluted me, and when I expressed my desire he +replied curtly:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is impossible. Two places shall be reserved for you in the +officers’ carriage.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But that is what I want to avoid,” I exclaimed. “I do not +want to travel with German officers.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, you shall be put with German soldiers,” he +growled angrily, and, putting on his hat, he went out slamming +the door. I remained there, amazed and confused by the insolence +of this ignoble brute. I turned so pale, it appears, and the +blue of my eyes became so clear, that Soubise, who was acquainted +with my fits of anger, was very much alarmed.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>“Do be calm, Madame, I implore!” she said. “We are two +women alone in the midst of hostile people. If they liked to +harm us they could, and we must accomplish the aim and object +of our journey; we must see little Maurice again.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was very clever, this charming Mlle. Soubise, and her little +speech had the desired effect. To see the child again was my +aim and object. I calmed down, and vowed that I would not +allow myself to get angry during this journey, which promised +to be fertile in incidents, and I almost kept my word. I left the +station-master’s office, and found the poor Alsatian waiting at +the door. I gave him a couple of louis, which he hid away +quickly, and then shook my hand as though he would shake it +off. “You ought not to have that so visible, Madame,” he said, +pointing to the little bag I had hanging at my side, “it is very +dangerous.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thanked him, but did not pay any attention to his advice. +As the train was about to start we entered the only first-class +compartment there was; in it were two young German officers. +They saluted, and I took this as a good omen. The train +whistled, and I thought what good luck we had, as no one else +would get in! Well, the wheels had not turned round ten times +when the door opened violently and five German officers leaped +into our carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were nine then, and what torture it was! The station-master +waved a farewell to one of the officers, and both of them +burst out laughing as they looked at us. I glanced at the +station-master’s friend. He was a surgeon-major, and was wearing the +ambulance badge on his sleeve. His wide face was congested, +and a ring of sandy bushy beard surrounded the lower part of it. +Two little bright, light-coloured eyes in perpetual movement lit +up this ruddy face and gave him a sly look. He was broad-shouldered +and thick-set, and gave one the idea of having +strength without nerves. The horrid man was still laughing +when the station and its master were far away from us, but what +the other one had said was evidently very droll.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was in a corner seat, with Soubise opposite me. A young +German officer sat beside me, and the other young officer was +next to my friend. They were both very gentle and polite, +and one of them was quite delightful in his youthful charm.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The surgeon-major took off his helmet. He was very bald, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>and had a very small, stubborn-looking forehead. He began to +talk in a loud voice to the other officers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our two young bodyguards took very little part in the conversation. +Among the others was a tall, affected young man, +whom they addressed as baron. He was slender, very elegant, and +very strong. When he saw that we did not understand German +he spoke to us in English. But Soubise was too timid to answer, +and I speak English very badly. He therefore resigned himself +regretfully to talking French.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was agreeable, too agreeable; he certainly had not bad +manners, but he was deficient in tact. I made him understand +this by turning my face towards the scenery we were passing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were very much absorbed in our thoughts, and had been +travelling for a long time, when I suddenly felt suffocated by +smoke which was filling the carriage. I looked round, and saw +that the surgeon-major had lighted his pipe, and, with his eyes +half closed, was sending up puffs of smoke to the ceiling.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My eyes were smarting, and I was choking with indignation, +so much so that I was seized with a fit of coughing, which I +exaggerated in order to attract the attention of the impolite +man. The baron, however, slapped him on the knee and +endeavoured to make him comprehend that the smoke inconvenienced +me. He answered by an insult which I did not understand, +shrugged his shoulders, and continued to smoke. Exasperated +by this, I lowered the window on my side. The intense +cold made itself felt in the carriage, but I preferred that to the +nauseous smoke of the pipe. Suddenly the surgeon-major +got up, putting his hand to his ear, which I then saw was +filled with cotton-wool. He swore like an ox-driver, and, +pushing past every one and stepping on my feet and on Soubise’s, +he shut the window violently, cursing and swearing all the time +quite uselessly, for I did not understand him. He went back +to his seat, continued his pipe, and sent out enormous clouds of +smoke in the most insolent way. The baron and the two young +Germans who had been the first in the carriage appeared to ask +him something and then to remonstrate with him, but he +evidently told them to mind their own business and began to +abuse them. Very much calmer myself on seeing the increasing +anger of the disagreeable man, and very much amused by his +earache, I again opened the window. He got up again, furious, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>showed me his ear and his swollen cheek, and I caught the +word “periostitis” in the explanation he gave me on shutting +the window again and threatening me. I then made him +understand that I had a weak chest, and that the smoke made +me cough.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The baron acted as my interpreter, and explained this to him; +but it was easy to see that he did not care a bit about that, and +he once more took up his favourite attitude and his pipe. I left +him in peace for five minutes, during which time he was able to +imagine himself triumphant, and then with a sudden jerk of +my elbow I broke the pane of glass. Stupefaction was depicted +on the major’s face, and he became livid. He got straight +up, but the two young men rose at the same time, whilst the +baron burst out laughing in the most brutal manner.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The surgeon moved a step in our direction, but he found a +rampart before him; another officer had joined the two young +men, and he was a strong, hardy-looking fellow, just cut out +for an obstacle. I do not know what he said to the surgeon-major, +but it was something clear and decisive. The latter, not knowing +how to expend his anger, turned on the baron, who was still +laughing, and abused him so violently that the latter calmed +down suddenly and answered in such a way that I quite understood +the two men were calling each other out. That affected +me but little, anyhow. They might very well kill each other, +these two men, for they were equally ill-mannered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The carriage was now quiet and icy cold, for the wind blew in +wildly through the broken pane. The sun had set. The sky was +getting cloudy. It was about half-past five, and we were approaching +Tergnier. The major had changed seats with his +friend, in order to shelter his ear as much as possible. He kept +moaning like a half-dead cow.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Suddenly the repeated whistling of a distant locomotive made +us listen attentively. We then heard two, three, and four crackers +bursting under our wheels. We could perfectly well feel the +efforts the engine-driver was making to slacken speed, but before +he could succeed we were thrown against each other by a frightful +shock. There were cracks and creaks, the hiccoughs of the +locomotive spitting out its smoke in irregular fits, desperate +cries, shouts, oaths, sudden downfalls, a lull, then a thick smoke, +broken by the flames of a fire. Our carriage was standing up, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>like a horse kicking up its hind legs. It was impossible to +get our balance again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Who was wounded and who was not wounded? We were +nine in the compartment. For my part, I fancied that all my +bones were broken. I moved one leg and then I tried the other. +Then, delighted at finding them unbroken, I tried my arms in +the same way. I had nothing broken, and neither had Soubise. +She had bitten her tongue, and it was bleeding, and this had +frightened me. She did not seem to understand anything. The +tremendous shaking had made her dizzy, and she lost her memory +for some days. I had a rather deep scratch between my eyes. I +had not had time to stretch out my arms, and my forehead had +knocked against the hilt of the sword which the officer seated +by Soubise had been holding upright.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Assistance arrived from all sides.</p> + +<p class='c013'>For some time the door of our compartment could not be +opened.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Darkness had come on when it finally yielded, and a lantern +shone feebly on our poor broken-up carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked round for our one bag, but on finding it I let it go +immediately, for my hand was red with blood. Whose blood +was it?</p> + +<p class='c013'>Three men did not move, and one of them was the major. His +face looked to me livid. I closed my eyes, in order not to know, +and I let the man who had come to our aid pull me out of the +compartment. One of the young officers got out after me. He +took Soubise, who was almost in a fainting condition, from his +friend. The imbecile baron then got out; his shoulder was out +of joint. A doctor came forward among the rescuers. The +baron held his arm out to him, telling him at the same time to +pull it, which he did at once. The French doctor took off the +officer’s cloak, told two of the railway-men to hold him, and +then, pushing against him himself, pulled at the poor arm. The +baron was very pale, and gave a low whistle. When the arm +was back in its place, the doctor shook the baron’s other hand. +“Cristi!” he said, “I must have hurt you very much. You +are most courageous.” The German saluted, and I helped him +on again with his cloak.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The doctor was then fetched away, and I saw that he was +taken back to our compartment. I shuddered in spite of myself. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>We were now able to find out what had been the cause of our +accident. A locomotive attached to two vans of coal had been +shunting on to a side line in order to let us pass, when one +of the vans got off the rails, and the locomotive tired its +lungs with whistling the alarm, whilst men ran to meet us, +scattering crackers. Everything had been in vain, and we had +run against the overturned van.</p> + +<p class='c013'>What were we to do? The roads, softened by the recent wet +weather, were all broken up by the cannons. We were about +four miles from Tergnier, and a thin penetrating rain was +making our clothes stick to our bodies.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There were four carriages, but they were for the wounded. +Other carriages would come, but there were the dead to be +carried away. An improvised litter was just being borne +along by two workmen. The major was lying on it, so livid +that I clenched my hands until my nails entered the flesh. One +of the officers wanted to question the doctor who was following.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no!” I exclaimed. “Please, please do not. I do not +want to know. The poor fellow!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stopped my ears, as though some one was about to shout +out something horrible to me, and I never knew his fate.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were obliged to resign ourselves to setting out on foot. +We went about two kilometres as bravely as possible, and then +I stopped, quite exhausted. The mud which clung to our shoes +made these very heavy. The effort we had to make at every +step to get our feet out of the mire tired us out. I sat down +on a milestone, and declared that I would not go any farther.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My sweet companion wept: the two young German officers +who had acted as bodyguards made a seat for me by crossing +their hands, and so we went nearly another mile. My companion +could not walk any farther. I offered her my place, but +she refused it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, let us wait here!” I said, and, quite at the end +of our strength, we rested against a little broken tree.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was now night, and such a cold night!</p> + +<p class='c013'>Soubise and I huddled close together, trying to keep each +other warm. I began to fall asleep, seeing before my eyes the +wounded men of Châtillon, who had died seated against the +little shrubs. I did not want to move again, and the torpor +seemed to me thoroughly delicious.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>A cart passed by, however, on its way to Tergnier. One of +the young men hailed it, and when a price was agreed upon I +felt myself picked up from the ground, lifted into the vehicle, and +carried along by the jerky, rolling movement of two loose +wheels, which climbed the hills, sank into the mire, and jumped +over the heaps of stones, whilst the driver whipped up his +beasts and urged them on with his voice. He had a “don’t +care, let what will happen” way of driving, which was characteristic +of those days.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was aware of all this in my semi-sleep, for I was not really +asleep, but I did not want to answer any questions. I gave myself +up to this prostration of my whole being with a certain +amount of enjoyment.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A rough jerk, however, indicated that we had arrived at +Tergnier. The cart had drawn up at the hotel, and we had to get +out. I pretended to be still sleeping heavily. But it was no +use, for I had to wake up. The two young men helped me up +to my room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I asked Soubise to arrange about the payment of the cart +before the departure of our excellent young companions, who +were sorry to leave us. I signed for each of them a voucher, +on a sheet of the hotel paper, for a photograph. Only one of +them ever claimed it. This was six years later, and I sent it +to him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Tergnier hotel could only give us one room. I let Soubise +go to bed, and I slept in an arm-chair, dressed as I was.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following morning I asked about a train for Cateau, but +was told that there was no train.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had to work marvels to procure a vehicle, but finally Dr. +Meunier, or Mesnier, agreed to lend us a two-wheeled conveyance. +That was something, but there was no horse. The poor doctor’s +horse had been requisitioned by the enemy. A wheelwright for +an exorbitant price let me have a colt that had never been in +the shafts, and which went wild when the harness was put on. +The poor little beast calmed down after being well lashed, but +his wildness then changed into stubbornness. He stood still on +his four legs, which were trembling furiously, and refused to +move. With his neck stretched towards the ground, his eye +fixed, and his nostrils dilating, he would not budge any more +than a stake in the earth. Two men then held the light +<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>carriage back; the halter was taken off the colt’s neck; he shook +his head for an instant, and, thinking himself free and without +any impediments, began to advance. The men were scarcely holding +the vehicle. He gave two little kicks, and then began to +trot. Oh, it was only a very short trot. A boy then stopped +him, some carrots were given to him, his mane was stroked, and +the halter was put on again. He stopped suddenly, but the boy, +jumping into the gig and holding the reins lightly, spoke to +him and encouraged him to move on. The colt, not feeling any +resistance, began to trot along for about a quarter of an hour, +and then came back to us at the door of the hotel.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had to leave a deposit of four hundred francs with the +notary of the place, in case the colt should die.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ah, what a journey that was with the boy, Soubise, and me +sitting close together in that little gig, the wheels of which +creaked at every jolt! The unhappy colt was steaming like +a <i><span lang="fr">pot-au-feu</span></i> when the lid is raised. We started at eleven in +the morning, and when we had to stop, because the poor beast +could not go any farther, it was five in the afternoon, and we +had not gone five miles. Oh, that poor colt, he was certainly +to be pitied! We were not very heavy, all three of us together, +but we were too much for him. We were just a few yards away +from a sordid-looking house. I knocked, and an old woman, +enormous in size, opened the door.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What do you want?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Hospitality for an hour and shelter for our horse.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She looked out on to the road and saw our turn-out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Hey, father!” She called out in a husky voice, “come and +look here!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A stout man, quite as stout as she was, but older, came hobbling +heavily along. She pointed to the gig, so oddly equipped, +and he burst out laughing and said to me in an insolent way:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, what do you want?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I repeated my phrase: “Hospitality for an hour,” &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Perhaps we can do it, but it’ll want paying for.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I showed him twenty francs. The old woman gave him +a nudge.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, but in these times, you know, it’s well worth forty +francs.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very good,” I said, “agreed; forty francs.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>He then let me go inside the house with Mlle. Soubise, +and sent his son towards the boy, who was coming along +holding the colt by his mane. He had taken off the halter very +considerately and thrown my rug over its steaming sides. On +reaching the house the poor beast was quickly unharnessed +and taken into a little enclosure, at the far end of which a few +badly-joined planks served as a stable for an old mule, which +was aroused by the fat woman with kicks and turned out into +the enclosure. The colt took its place, and when I asked for +some oats for it she replied:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Perhaps we could get it some, but that isn’t included in +the forty francs.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very well,” I said, and I gave our boy five francs to fetch +the oats, but the old shrew took the money from him and +handed it to her lad, saying:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You go; you know where to find them, and come back quick.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our boy remained with the colt, drying it and rubbing it +down as well as he could. I went back to the house, where I +found my charming Soubise with her sleeves turned up and her +delicate hands washing two glasses and two plates for us. +I asked if it would be possible to have some eggs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, but——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I interrupted our monstrous hostess.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Don’t tire yourself, Madame, I beg,” I said. “It is understood +that the forty francs are your tip, and that I am to pay +for everything else.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was confused for a moment, shaking her head and trying +to find words, but I asked her to give me the eggs. She brought +me five eggs, and I began to make an omelette, as my culinary +glory is an omelette.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The water was nauseous, so we drank cider. I sent for the +boy and made them serve him something to eat in our presence, +for I was afraid that the ogress would give him too economical +a meal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I paid the fabulous bill of seventy-five francs, inclusive +of course of the forty francs, the matron put on her spectacles, +and taking one of the gold pieces, looked at it on one side, then +on the other, made it ring on a plate and then on the ground. +She did this with each of the three gold pieces. I could not +help laughing.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>“Oh, there’s nothing to laugh at,” she grunted. “For the +last six months we’ve had nothing but thieves here.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you know something about theft!” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She looked at me, trying to make out what I meant, but the +laughing expression in my eyes took away her suspicions. This +was very fortunate, as they were people capable of doing us +harm. I had taken the precaution, when sitting down to table, +of putting my revolver near me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You know how to fire that?” asked the lame man.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, I shoot very well,” I answered, though it was not +true.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our steed was then put in again in a few seconds, and we +proceeded on our way. The colt appeared to be quite joyful. +He stamped, kicked a little, and began to go at a pretty steady +pace.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our disagreeable hosts had indicated the way to St. Quentin, +and we set off, after our poor colt had made various attempts at +standing still. I was dead tired and fell asleep, but after about +an hour the vehicle stopped abruptly and the wretched beast +began to snort and put his back up, supporting himself on his +four stiff, trembling legs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It had been a gloomy day, and a lowering sky full of tears +seemed to be falling slowly over the earth. We had stopped in +the middle of a field which had been ploughed up all over by +the heavy wheels of cannons. The rest of the ground had been +trampled by horses’ feet and the cold had hardened the little +ridges of earth, leaving icicles here and there, which glittered +dismally in the thick atmosphere.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We got down from the vehicle, to try to discover what was +making our little animal tremble in this way. I gave a cry of +horror, for, only about five yards away, some dogs were pulling +wildly at a dead body, half of which was still underground. It +was a soldier, and fortunately one of the enemy. I took the +whip from our young driver and lashed the horrid animals as +hard as I could. They moved away for a second, showing their +teeth, and then returned to their voracious and abominable work, +growling sullenly at us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our boy got down and led the snorting pony by the bridle. +We went on with some difficulty, trying to find the road in these +devastated plains.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>Darkness came over us, and it was icy cold.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The moon feebly pushed aside her veils and shone over the +landscape with a wan, sad light. I was half dead with fright. +It seemed to me that the silence was broken by cries from underground, +and every little mound of earth appeared to me to be a head.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Soubise was crying, with her face hidden in her hands. +After going along for half an hour, we saw in the distance a +little group of people coming along carrying lanterns. I went +towards them, as I wanted to find out which way to go. I was +embarrassed on getting nearer to them, for I could hear sobs. I +saw a poor woman, who was very corpulent, being helped along +by a young priest. The whole of her body was shaken by her +fits of grief. She was followed by two sub-officers and by three +other persons. I let her pass by, and then questioned those who +were following her. I was told that she was looking for the +bodies of her husband and son, who had both been killed a few +days before on the St. Quentin plains. She came each day at +dusk, in order to avoid general curiosity, but she had not yet +met with any success. It was hoped that she would find them +this time, as one of these sub-officers, who had just left the +hospital, was taking her to the spot where he had seen the +poor woman’s husband fall, mortally wounded. He had fallen +there himself, and had been picked up by the ambulance +people.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I thanked these persons, who showed me the sad road we must +take, the best one there was, through the cemetery, which was +still warm under the ice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We could now distinguish groups of people searching about, +and it was all so horrible that it made me want to scream out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Suddenly the boy who was driving us pulled my coat-sleeve.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Madame,” he said, “look at that scoundrel stealing.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked, and saw a man lying down full length, with a large +bag near him. He had a dark lantern, which he held towards +the ground. He then got up, looked round him, for his outline +could be seen distinctly on the horizon, and began his work +again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When he caught sight of us he put out his lamp and crouched +down on the ground. We walked on in silence straight towards +him. I took the colt by the bridle, on the other side, and the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>boy no doubt understood what I intended to do, for he let me +lead the way. I walked straight towards the man, pretending +not to know he was there. The colt backed, but we pulled hard +and made it advance. We were so near to the man that I +shuddered at the thought that the wretch would perhaps allow +himself to be trampled over by the animal and the light vehicle +rather than reveal his presence. Fortunately, I was mistaken. +A stifled voice murmured, “Take care there! I am wounded. +You will run over me.” I took the gig lantern down. We had +covered it with a jacket, as the moon lighted us better, and I +now turned it on the face of this wretch. I was stupefied to see +a man of from sixty-five to seventy years of age, with a hollow-looking +face, framed with long, dirty white whiskers. He had +a muffler round his neck, and was wearing a peasant’s cloak of a +dark colour. Around him, shown up by the moon, were sword +belts, brass buttons, sword hilts, and other objects that the +infamous old fellow had torn from the poor dead.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are not wounded. You are a thief and a violator of +tombs! I shall call out and you will be killed. Do you hear +that, you miserable wretch?” I exclaimed, and I went so near +to him that I could feel his breath sully mine. He crouched +down on his knees and, clasping his criminal hands, implored +me in a trembling, tearful voice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Leave your bag there, then,” I said, “and all those things. +Empty your pockets; leave everything and go. Run, for as +soon as you are out of sight I shall call one of those soldiers +who are making searches, and give them your plunder. I know +I am doing wrong, though, in letting you go free.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He emptied his pockets, groaning all the time, and was just +going away when the lad whispered, “He’s hiding some boots +under his cloak.” I was furious with rage with this vile thief, +and I pulled his big cloak off.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Leave everything, you wretched man,” I exclaimed, “or I +will call the soldiers.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Six pairs of boots, taken from the corpses, fell noisily on to +the hard ground. The man stooped down for his revolver, +which he had taken out of his pocket at the same time as the +stolen objects.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you leave that, and get away quickly?” I said. “My +patience is at an end.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>“But if I am caught I shan’t be able to defend myself,” he +exclaimed, in a fit of desperate rage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It will be because God willed it so,” I answered. “Go at +once, or I will call.” The man then made off, abusing me as +he went.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our little driver then fetched a soldier, to whom I related the +adventure, showing him the objects.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Which way did the rascal go?” asked a sergeant who had +come with the soldier.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I can’t say,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well, I don’t care to run after him,” he said; “there are +enough dead men here.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We continued our way until we came to a place where several +roads met, and it was then possible for us to take a route a little +more suitable for vehicles.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After going through Busigny and a wood, where there were +bogs in which we only just escaped being swallowed up, our +painful journey came to an end, and we arrived at Cateau in the +night, half dead with fatigue, fright, and despair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was obliged to take a day’s rest there, for I was prostrate +with feverishness. We had two little rooms, roughly white-washed +but quite clean. The floor was of red, shiny bricks, and +there was a polished wood bed and white curtains.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sent for a doctor for my charming little Soubise, who, it +seemed to me, was worse than I was. He thought we were both in +a very bad state, though. A nervous feverishness had taken all +the use out of my limbs and made my head burn. She could +not keep still, but kept seeing spectres and fires, hearing shouts +and turning round quickly, imagining that some one had touched +her on the shoulder. The good man gave us a soothing draught +to overcome our fatigue, and the next day a very hot bath +brought back the suppleness to our limbs. It was then six days +since we had left Paris, and it would take about twenty more +hours to reach Homburg, for in those days trains went much +less quickly than at present. I took a train for Brussels, +where I was counting on buying a trunk and a few necessary +things.</p> + +<p class='c013'>From Cateau to Brussels there was no hindrance to our journey, +and we were able to take the train again the same evening.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had replenished our wardrobe, which certainly needed it, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>and we continued our journey without much difficulty as far as +Cologne. But on arriving in that city we had a cruel disappointment. +The train had only just entered the station, +when a railway official, passing quickly in front of the carriages, +shouted something in German which I did not catch. Every +one seemed to be in a hurry, and men and women pushed each +other without any courtesy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I addressed another official and showed him our tickets. He +took up my bag, very obligingly, and hurried after the crowd. +We followed, but I did not understand the excitement until the +man flung my bag into a compartment and signed to me to get +in as quickly as possible.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Soubise was already on the step when she was pushed aside +violently by a railway porter, who slammed the door, and before +I was fully aware of what had happened the train had disappeared. +My bag had gone, and our trunk also. The trunk +had been placed in a luggage van that had been unhooked from +the train which had just arrived, and immediately fastened on +to the express now departing. I began to cry with rage. An +official took pity on us and led us to the station-master. He +was a very superior sort of man, who spoke French fairly well. +I sank down in his great leather arm-chair and told him my +misadventure, sobbing nervously. He looked kind and sympathetic. +He immediately telegraphed for my bag and trunk to +be given into the care of the station-master at the first station.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You will have them again to-morrow, towards mid-day,” he +said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Then I cannot start this evening?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no, that is impossible,” he replied. “There is no train, +for the express that will take you to Homburg does not start +before to-morrow morning.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh God, God!” I exclaimed, and I was seized with veritable +despair, which soon affected Mlle. Soubise too.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The poor station-master was rather embarrassed, and tried to +soothe me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you know any one here?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no one. I do not know any one in Cologne.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, I will have you driven to the Hôtel du Nord. +My sister-in-law has been there for two days, and she will look +after you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>Half an hour later his carriage arrived, and he took us to the +Hôtel du Nord, after driving a long way round to show us the +city. But at that epoch I did not admire anything belonging +to the Germans.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving at the Hôtel du Nord, he introduced us to his +sister-in-law, a fair-haired young woman, pretty, but too tall +and too big for my taste. I must say, though, that she was very +sweet and affable. She engaged two bedrooms for us near her +own rooms. She had a flat on the ground floor, and she invited +us to dinner, which was served in her drawing-room. Her +brother-in-law joined us in the evening. The charming woman +was very musical. She played to us from Berlioz, Gounod, and +even Auber. I thoroughly appreciated the delicacy of this +woman in only letting us hear French composers. I asked her +to play us something from Mozart and Wagner. At that name +she turned to me and exclaimed, “Do you like Wagner?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I like his music,” I replied, “but I detest the man.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Soubise whispered to me, “Ask her to play Liszt.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She overheard, and complied with infinite graciousness. I +must admit that I spent a delightful evening there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At ten o’clock the station-master (whose name I have very +stupidly forgotten, and I cannot find it in any of my notes) told +me that he would call for us at eight the following morning, and +he then took leave of us. I fell asleep, lulled by Mozart, +Gounod, &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At eight o’clock the next morning a servant came to tell me +that the carriage was waiting for us. There was a gentle knock +at my door, and our beautiful hostess of the previous evening +said sweetly, “Come, you must start!” I was really very much +touched by the delicacy of the pretty German woman.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was such a fine day that I asked her if we should have time +to walk there, and on her reply in the affirmative we all three +started for the station, which is not far from the hotel. A +special compartment had been reserved for us, and we installed +ourselves in it as comfortably as possible. The brother and +sister shook hands with us, and wished us a pleasant journey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the train had started I discovered in one of the corners +a bouquet of forget-me-nots with the sister’s card and a box of +chocolates from the station-master.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was at last about to arrive at my goal, and was in a state of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>wild excitement at the idea of seeing once more all my beloved +ones. I should have liked to have gone to sleep. My eyes, +which had grown larger with anxiety, travelled through space +more rapidly than the train went. I fumed each time it stopped, +and envied the birds I saw flying along. I laughed with delight +as I thought of the surprised faces of those I was going to see +again, and then I began to tremble with anxiety. What had +happened to them, and should I find them all? I should if——ah, those “ifs,” those “becauses,” and those “buts”! My mind +became full of them, they bristled with illnesses and accidents, +and I began to weep. My poor little travelling companion +began to weep too.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally we came within sight of Homburg. Twenty more +minutes of this turning of wheels and we should enter the station. +But just as though all the sprites and devils from the infernal +regions had concerted to torture my patience, we stopped short. +All heads were out of the windows. “What is it?” “What’s +the matter?” “Why are we not going on?” There was a +train in front of us at a standstill, with a broken brake, and the +line had to be cleared. I fell back on my seat, clenching my +teeth and hands, and looking up in the air to distinguish the +evil spirits which were so bent on tormenting me, and then I +resolutely closed my eyes. I muttered some invectives against +the invisible sprites, and declared that, as I would not suffer any +more, I was now going to sleep. I then fell fast asleep, for the +power of sleeping when I wish is a precious gift which God has +bestowed on me. In the most frightful circumstances and the +most cruel moments of life, when I have felt that my reason was +giving way under shocks that have been too great or too painful, +my will has laid hold of my reason, just as one holds a bad-tempered +little dog that wants to bite, and, subjugating it, my +will has said to my reason: “Enough. You can take up again +to-morrow your suffering and your plans, your anxiety, your +sorrow and your anguish. You have had enough for to-day. +You would give way altogether under the weight of so many +troubles, and you would drag me along with you. I will not +have it! We will forget everything for so many hours and go +to sleep together!” And I have gone to sleep. This, I +swear to.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Soubise roused me as soon as the train entered the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>station. I was refreshed and calmer. A minute later we were +in a carriage and had given the address, 7 Ober Strasse.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were soon there, and I found all my adored ones, big and +little, and they were all very well. Oh, what happiness it was! +The blood pulsed in all my arteries. I had suffered so much +that I burst out into delicious laughter and sobs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Who can ever describe the infinite pleasure of tears of joy! +During the next two days the maddest things occurred, which +I will not relate, so incredible would they sound. Among +others, fire broke out in the house; we had to escape in our +night clothes and camp out for six hours in five feet of snow, +&c. &c.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XIX<br> <span class='large'>MY RETURN TO PARIS—THE COMMUNE—AT ST. GERMAIN-EN-LAYE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Everybody being safe and sound, we set out for Paris, but on +arriving at St. Denis we found there were no more trains. It +was four o’clock in the morning. The Germans were masters of +all the suburbs of Paris, and trains only ran for their service. +After an hour spent in running about, in discussions and rebuffs, +I met with an officer of higher rank, who was better educated +and more agreeable. He had a locomotive prepared to take me +to the Gare du Hâvre (Gare St. Lazare).</p> + +<p class='c013'>The journey was very amusing. My mother, my aunt, my +sister Régina, Mlle. Soubise, the two maids, the children, and I +all squeezed into a little square space, in which there was a very +small, narrow bench, which I think was the place for the signalman +in those days. The engine went very slowly, as the rails +were frequently obstructed by carts or railway carriages.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We left at five in the morning and arrived at seven. At a +place which I cannot locate our German conductors were +exchanged for French conductors. I questioned them, and +learnt that revolutionary troubles were beginning in Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The stoker with whom I was talking was a very intelligent +and very advanced individual.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You would do better to go somewhere else, and not to +Paris,” he said, “for before long they will come to blows there.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had arrived. But as no train was expected in at that +hour, it was impossible to find a carriage. I got down with my +tribe from the locomotive, to the great amazement of the station +officials.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was no longer very rich, but I offered twenty francs to one +<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>of the men if he would see to our six bags. We were to send +for my trunk and those belonging to my family later on.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was not a single carriage outside the station. The +children were very tired, but what was to be done? I was then +living at No. 4 Rue de Rome, and this was not far away, but my +mother scarcely ever walked, for she was delicate and had a weak +heart. The children, too, were very, very tired. Their eyes +were puffed up and scarcely open, and their little limbs were +benumbed by the cold and immobility. I began to get desperate, +but a milk cart was just passing by, and I sent a porter to hail +it. I offered twenty francs if the man would drive my mother +and the two children to 4 Rue de Rome.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you too, if you like, young lady,” said the milkman. +“You are thinner than a grasshopper, and you won’t make it +any heavier.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not want inviting twice, although rather annoyed by the +man’s speech.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When once my mother was installed, in spite of her hesitation, +by the side of the milkman, and the children and I were +in amongst the full and empty milk-pails, I said to our driver, +“Would you mind coming back to fetch the others?” I +pointed to the remaining group, and added, “You shall have +twenty francs more.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Right you are!” said the worthy fellow. “A good day’s +work! Don’t you tire your legs, you others. I’ll be back for +you directly!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He then whipped up his horse and we started at a wild rate. +The children rolled about and I held on. My mother set her +teeth and did not utter a word, but from under her long +lashes she glanced at me with a displeased look.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving at my door the milkman drew up his horse so +sharply that I thought my mother would have fallen out on to the +animal’s back. We had arrived, though, and we got out. The +cart started off again at full speed. My mother would not speak +to me for about an hour. Poor, pretty mother, it was not my +fault.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had gone away from Paris eleven days before, and had then +left a sad city. The sadness had been painful, the result of a +great and unexpected misfortune. No one had dared to look +up, fearing to be blown upon by the same wind which was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>blowing the German flag floating yonder towards the Arc de +Triomphe.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I now found Paris effervescent and grumbling. The walls +were placarded with multi-coloured posters; and all these posters +contained the wildest harangues. Fine noble ideas were side by +side with absurd threats. Workmen on their way to their +daily toil stopped in front of these bills. One would read +aloud, and the gathering crowd would begin to read over again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And all these human beings, who had just been suffering so +much through this abominable war, now echoed these appeals +for vengeance. They were very much to be excused.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This war, alas! had hollowed out under their very feet a gulf +of ruin and of mourning. Poverty had brought the women to +rags, the privations of the siege had lowered the vitality of the +children, and the shame of the defeat had discouraged the men.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Well, these appeals to rebellion, these anarchist shouts, these +yells from the crowd, shrieking: “Down with thrones! Down +with the Republic! Down with the rich! Down with the +priests! Down with the Jews! Down with the army! Down +with the masters! Down with those who work! Down with +everything!”—all these cries roused the benumbed hearers. +The Germans, who fomented all these riots, rendered us a real +service without intending it. Those who had given themselves +up to resignation were stirred out of their torpor. Others, who +demanded revenge, found an aliment for their inactive forces. +None of them agreed. There were ten or twenty different +parties, devouring each other and threatening each other. It +was terrible.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But it was the awakening. It was life after death. I had +among my friends about ten of the leaders of different opinions, +and all of them interested me, the maddest and the wisest of +them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I often saw Gambetta at Girardin’s, and it was a joy to me +to listen to this admirable man. What he said was so wise, so +well-balanced, and so captivating.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This man, with his heavy stomach, his short arms, and huge +head, had a halo of beauty round him when he spoke.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Gambetta was never common, never ordinary. He took +snuff, and the gesture of his hand when he brushed away the +stray grains was full of grace. He smoked huge cigars, but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>could smoke them without inconveniencing any one. When he +was tired of politics and talked literature it was a real charm, +for he knew everything and quoted poetry admirably. One +evening, after a dinner at Girardin’s, we played together the +whole scene of the first act of <cite>Hernani</cite> with Dona Sol. And if +he was not as handsome as Mounet-Sully, he was just as admirable +in it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On another occasion he recited the whole of “Ruth and +Boaz,” commencing with the last verse.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But I preferred his political discussions, especially when he +criticised the speech of some one who was of the opposite opinion +to himself. The eminent qualities of this politician’s talent +were logic and weight, and his seductive force was his chauvinism. +The early death of so great a thinker is a disconcerting challenge +flung at human pride.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sometimes saw Rochefort, whose wit delighted me. I was +not at ease with him, though, for he was the cause of the fall of +the Empire, and, although I am very republican, I liked the +Emperor Napoleon III. He had been too trustful, but very +unfortunate, and it seemed to me that Rochefort insulted him +too much after his misfortune.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I also frequently saw Paul de Rémusat, the favourite of +Thiers. He had great refinement of mind, broad ideas, and +fascinating manners. Some people accused him of Orleanism. +He was a Republican, and a much more advanced Republican +than Thiers. One must have known him very little to believe +him to be anything else but what he said he was. Paul de +Rémusat had a horror of untruth. He was sensitive, and had a +very straightforward, strong character. He took no active part +in politics, except in private circles, and his advice always +prevailed, even in the Chamber and in the Senate. He would +never speak except when in committee. The Ministry of Fine +Arts was offered to him a hundred times, but he refused it a +hundred times. Finally, after my repeated entreaties, he almost +allowed himself to be appointed Minister of Fine Arts, but at +the last moment he declined, and wrote me a delightful letter, +from which I quote a few passages. As the letter was not +written for publication, I do not consider that I have a right +to give the whole of it, but there seems to be no harm in +publishing these few lines:</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>“Allow me, my charming friend, to remain in the shade. I +can see better there than in the dazzling brilliancy of honours. +You are grateful to me sometimes for being attentive to the +miseries you point out to me. Let me keep my independence. +It is more agreeable to me to have the right to relieve every one +than to be obliged to relieve no matter whom.... In matters +of art I have made for myself an ideal of beauty, which would +naturally seem too partial....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It is a great pity that the scruples of this delicate-minded +man did not allow him to accept this office. The reforms that +he pointed out to me were, and still are, very necessary ones. +However, that cannot be helped.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I also knew and frequently saw a mad sort of fellow, full of +dreams and Utopian follies. His name was Flourens, and he +was tall and nice-looking. He wanted every one to be happy +and every one to have money, and he shot down the soldiers +without reflecting that he was commencing by making one or +more of them unhappy. Reasoning with him was impossible, +but he was charming and brave. I saw him two days before his +death. He came to see me with a very young girl who wanted +to devote herself to dramatic art. I promised him to help her. +Two days later the poor child came to tell me of the heroic +death of Flourens. He had refused to surrender, and, stretching +out his arms, had shouted to the hesitating soldiers, “Shoot, +shoot! I should not have spared you!” And their bullets +had killed him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Another man, not so interesting, whom I looked upon as a +dangerous madman, was a certain Raoul Rigault. For a short +time he was Prefect of Police. He was very young and very +daring, wildly ambitious, determined to do anything to succeed, +and it seemed to him more easy to do harm than good. That +man was a real danger. He belonged to a group of students +who used to send me verses every day. I came across them +everywhere, enthusiastic and mad. They had been nicknamed +in Paris the <em>Saradoteurs</em> (Sara-dotards). One day he brought me +a little one-act play. The piece was so stupid and the verses were +so insipid that I sent it him back with a few words, which he no +doubt considered unkind, for he bore me malice for them, and +attempted to avenge himself in the following way. He called +<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>on me one day, and Madame Guérard was there when he was shown in.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you know that I am all-powerful at present?” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“In these days there is nothing surprising in that,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I have come to see you, either to make peace or declare +war,” he continued.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This way of talking did not suit me, and I sprang up. “As +I can foresee that your conditions of peace would not suit me, +<i><span lang="fr">cher Monsieur</span></i>, I will not give you time to declare war. You are +one of the men one would prefer, no matter how spiteful they +might be, as enemies rather than friends.” With these words I +rang for my footman to show the Prefect of Police to the door. +Madame Guérard was in despair. “That man will do us some +harm, my dear Sarah, I assure you,” she said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was not mistaken in her presentiment, except that she +was thinking of me and not of herself, for his first vengeance +was taken on her, by sending away one of her relatives, who was +a police commissioner, to an inferior and dangerous post. He +then began to invent a hundred miseries for me. One day I +received an order to go at once to the Prefecture of Police on +urgent business. I took no notice. The following day a mounted +courier brought me a note from Sire Raoul Rigault, threatening +to send a prison van for me. I took no notice whatever of the +threats of this wretch, who was shot shortly after and died without +showing any courage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Life, however, was no longer possible in Paris, and I decided +to go to St. Germain-en-Laye. I asked my mother to go with +me, but she went to Switzerland with my youngest sister.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The departure from Paris was not as easy as I had hoped. +Communists with gun on shoulder stopped the trains and +searched in all our bags and pockets, and even under the cushions +of the railway carriages. They were afraid that the passengers +were taking newspapers to Versailles. This was monstrously +stupid.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The installation at St. Germain was not an easy thing either. +Nearly all Paris had taken refuge in this little place, which is as +pretty as it is dull. From the height of the terrace, where the +crowd remained morning and night, we could see the alarming +progress of the Commune.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On all sides of Paris the flames rose, proud and destructive. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>The wind often brought us burnt papers, which we took to the +Council House. The Seine brought quantities along with it, and +the boatmen collected these in sacks. Some days—and these +were the most distressing of all—an opaque veil of smoke +enveloped Paris. There was no breeze to allow the flames to +pierce through.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The city then burnt stealthily, without our anxious eyes being +able to discover the fresh buildings that these furious madmen +had set alight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went for a ride every day in the forest. Sometimes I would +go as far as Versailles, but this was not without danger. We +often came across poor starving wretches in the forest, whom we +joyfully helped, but often, too, there were prisoners who had +escaped from Poissy, or Communist sharpshooters trying to +shoot a Versailles soldier.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day, on the way back from Triel, where Captain O’Connor +and I had been for a gallop over the hills, we entered the forest +rather late in the evening, as it was a shorter way. A shot was +fired from a neighbouring thicket, which made my horse bound +so suddenly towards the left that I was thrown. Fortunately +my horse was quiet. O’Connor hurried to me, but I was already +up and ready to mount again. “Just a second,” he said; “I +want to search that thicket.” A short gallop soon brought him +to the spot, and I then heard a shot, some branches breaking +under flying feet, then another shot not at all like the two former +ones, and my friend appeared again with a pistol in his hand.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You have not been hit?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, the first shot just touched my leg, but the fellow aimed +too low. The second he fired haphazard. I fancy, though, that +he has a bullet from my revolver in his body.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But I heard some one running away,” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” replied the elegant captain, chuckling, “he will not +go far.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Poor wretch!” I murmured.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no,” exclaimed O’Connor, “do not pity them, I beg. +They kill numbers of our men every day; only yesterday five +soldiers from my regiment were found on the Versailles road, +not only killed, but mutilated,” and gnashing his teeth, he +finished his sentence with an oath.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I turned towards him rather surprised, but he took no notice. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>We continued our way, riding as quickly as the obstacles in the +forest would allow us. Suddenly, our horses stopped short, +snorting and sniffing. O’Connor took his revolver in his hand, +got off, and led his horse. A few yards from us there was a man +lying on the ground.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That must be the wretch who shot at me,” said my companion, +and bending down over the man he spoke to him. A moan was +the only reply. O’Connor had not seen his man, so that he +could not have recognised him. He lighted a match, and we +saw that this one had no gun. I had dismounted, and was +trying to raise the unfortunate man’s head, but I withdrew my +hand, covered with blood. He had opened his eyes, and fixed +them on O’Connor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, it’s you, Versailles dog!” he said. “It was you who +shot me! I missed you, but——” He tried to pull out the +revolver from his belt, but the effort was too great, and his +hand fell down inert. O’Connor on his side had cocked his +revolver, but I placed myself in front of the man, and besought +him to leave the poor fellow in peace. I could scarcely recognise +my friend, for this handsome, fair-haired man, so polite, +rather a snob, but very charming, seemed to have turned into a +brute. Leaning towards the unfortunate man, his under-jaw +protruded, he was muttering under his teeth some inarticulate +words; his clenched hand seemed to be grasping his anger, +just as one does an anonymous letter before flinging it away in +disgust.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“O’Connor, let this man alone, please!” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was as gallant a man as he was a good soldier. He gave +way, and seemed to become aware of the situation again. +“Good!” he said, helping me to mount once more. “When I +have taken you back to your hotel, I will come back with some +men to pick up this wretch.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Half an hour later we were back home, without having +exchanged another word during our ride.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I kept up my friendship with O’Connor, but I could never see +him again without thinking of that scene. Suddenly, when he +was talking to me, the brute-like mask under which I had seen +him for a second would fix itself again over his laughing face. +Quite recently, in March 1905, General O’Connor, who was +commanding in Algeria, came to see me one evening in my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>dressing-room at the theatre. He told me about his difficulties +with some of the great Arab chiefs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I fancy,” he said, laughing, “that we shall have a brush together.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Again I saw the captain’s mask on the general’s face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I never saw him again, for he died six months afterwards.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were at last able to go back to Paris. The abominable +and shameful peace had been signed, the wretched Commune +crushed. Everything was supposed to be in order again. But +what blood and ashes! What women in mourning! What +ruins!</p> + +<p class='c013'>In Paris, we inhaled the bitter odour of smoke. All that +I touched at home left on my fingers a somewhat greasy +and almost imperceptible colour. A general uneasiness beset +France, and more especially Paris. The theatres, however, +opened their doors once more, and that was a general relief.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One morning I received from the Odéon a notice of rehearsal. +I shook out my hair, stamped my feet, and sniffed the air like a +young horse snorting.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The race-ground was to be opened for us again. We should +be able to gallop afresh through our dreams. The lists were +ready. The contest was beginning. Life was commencing again. +It is truly strange that man’s mind should have made of life a +perpetual strife. When there is no longer war there is battle, +for there are a hundred thousand of us aiming for the same +object. God has created the earth and man for each other. The +earth is vast. What ground there is uncultivated! Miles upon +miles, acres upon acres of new land waiting for arms that will +take from its bosom the treasures of inexhaustible Nature. And +we remain grouped round each other, crowds of famishing people +watching other groups, which are also lying in wait.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Odéon opened its doors to the public with a repertory +programme. Some new pieces were given us to study. One of +these met with tremendous success. It was André Theuriet’s +<cite>Jean-Marie</cite>, and was produced in October 1871. This one-act +play is a veritable masterpiece, and it took its author +straight to the Academy. Porel, who played the part of Jean-Marie, +met with an enormous success. He was at that time +slender, nimble, and full of youthful ardour. He needed a little +more poetry, but the joyous laughter of his thirty-two teeth +<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>made up in ardour for what was wanting in poetic desire. It +was very good, anyhow.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of the young Breton girl, submissive to the elderly +husband forced upon her, and living eternally with the memory +of the <i><span lang="fr">fiancé</span></i> who was absent, and perhaps dead, was pretty, +poetical, and touching by reason of the final sacrifice. There +was even a certain grandeur in the concluding part of the piece. +It had, I must repeat, an immense success, and increased my +growing reputation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was, however, awaiting the event which was to consecrate +me a star. I did not quite know what I was expecting, but I +knew that my Messiah had to come. And it was the greatest +poet of the last century who was to place on my head the crown +of the elect.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XX<br> <span class='large'>VICTOR HUGO</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>At the end of that year 1871, we were told, in rather a +mysterious and solemn way, that we were going to play a piece +of Victor Hugo’s. My mind at that time of my life was still +closed to great ideas. I was living in rather a <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> atmosphere, +what with my somewhat cosmopolitan family, their rather +snobbish acquaintances and friends, and the acquaintances and +friends I had chosen in my independent life as an artiste.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had heard Victor Hugo spoken of ever since my childhood +as a rebel and a renegade, and his works, which I had read with +passion, did not prevent my judging him with very great +severity. And I blush to-day with anger and shame when I +think of all my absurd prejudices, fomented by the imbecile or +insincere little court which flattered me. I had a great desire, +nevertheless, to play in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>. The <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of the Queen seemed +so charming to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I mentioned my wish to Duquesnel, who said he had already +thought of it. Jane Essler, an artiste then in vogue, but a trifle +vulgar, had great chances, though, against me. She was on +very amicable terms with Paul Meurice, Victor Hugo’s intimate +friend and adviser. One of my friends brought Auguste Vacquerie +to my house. He was another friend, and even a relative, of +the “illustrious master.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Auguste Vacquerie promised to speak to Victor Hugo, and +two days later he came again, assuring me that I had every +chance in my favour. Paul Meurice himself, a very straightforward +man, a delightful soul, had proposed me to the author. +And Geffroy, the admirable artiste who had retired from the +Comédie Française, and was now asked to play <em>Don Salluste</em>, had +said, it appears, that he could only see one little Queen of Spain +<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>worthy to wear the crown, and I was that one. I did not know +Geffroy; I did not know Paul Meurice; and was rather astonished +that they should know me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The play was to be read to the artistes at Victor Hugo’s, +December 6, 1871, at two o’clock. I was very much spoilt, and +very much praised and flattered, so that I felt hurt at the unceremoniousness +of a man who did not condescend to disturb himself, +but asked women to go to his house when there was neutral +ground, the theatre, for the reading of plays. I mentioned this +unheard-of incident at five o’clock to my little court, and men +and women alike exclaimed: “What! That man who was only +the other day an outlaw! That man who has only just been +pardoned! That nobody!—dares to ask the little Idol, the +Queen of <em>Hearts</em>, the Fairy of Fairies, to put herself to +inconvenience!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>All my little sanctuary was in a tumult; men and women alike +could not keep still.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She must not go,” they said. “Write him this”—“Write +him that.” And they were composing impertinent, disdainful +letters when Marshal Canrobert was announced. He belonged +at that time to my little five o’clock court, and he was soon +posted on what had taken place by my turbulent visitors. He +was furiously angry at the imbecilities uttered against the great +poet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You must not go to Victor Hugo’s,” he said to me, “for it +seems to me that he has no reason to deviate from the regular +custom. But say that you are suddenly unwell; follow my +advice and show the respect for him that we owe to genius.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I followed my great friend’s counsel, and sent the following +letter to the poet:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Monsieur</span>,—The Queen has taken a chill, and her Camerara +Mayor forbids her to go out. You know better than any one +else the etiquette of the Spanish Court. Pity your Queen, +Monsieur.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sent the letter, and the following was the poet’s reply:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“I am your valet, Madame.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Victor Hugo.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>The next day the play was read on the stage to the artistes. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>I believe that the reading did not take place, or at least not +entirely, at the Master’s house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then made the acquaintance of the monster. Ah, what a +grudge I had for a long time against all those silly people +who had prejudiced me!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The monster was charming—so witty and refined, and so +gallant, with a gallantry that was a homage and not an insult. +He was so good, too, to the humble, and always so gay. He was +not, certainly, the ideal of elegance, but there was a moderation +in his gestures, a gentleness in his way of speaking, which savoured +of the old French peer. He was quick at repartee, and his +observations were gentle but pertinent. He recited poetry +badly, but adored hearing it well recited. He often made +sketches during the rehearsals.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He frequently spoke in verse when he wished to reprimand an +artiste. One day during a rehearsal he was trying to convince +poor Talien about his bad elocution. I was bored by the length +of the colloquy, and sat down on the table swinging my legs. +He understood my impatience, and getting up from the middle +of the orchestra stalls, he exclaimed,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<i><span lang="fr">Une Reine d’Espagne honnête et respectable</span></i></div> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">Ne devrait point ainsi s’asseoir sur une table.</span></i>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c018'>I sprang up from the table slightly embarrassed, and wanted +to answer him in rather a piquant or witty way—but I could +not find anything to say, and remained there confused and in +a bad temper.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day, when the rehearsal was over an hour earlier than +usual, I was waiting, my forehead pressed against the window-pane, +for the arrival of Madame Guérard, who was coming to +fetch me. I was gazing idly at the footpath opposite, which is +bounded by the Luxembourg railings. Victor Hugo had just +crossed the road, and was about to walk on. An old woman +attracted his attention. She had just put a heavy bundle of +linen down on the ground, and was wiping her forehead, on +which were great beads of perspiration. In spite of the cold, +her toothless mouth was half open, as she was panting, and her +eyes had an expression of distressing anxiety as she looked at +the wide road she had to cross, with carriages and omnibuses +passing each other. Victor Hugo approached her, and after a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>short conversation he drew a piece of money from his pocket, +handed it to the old woman; then, taking off his hat, he confided +it to her, and with a quick movement and a laughing face +lifted the bundle onto his shoulder and crossed the road, followed +by the bewildered woman. I rushed downstairs to embrace him +for it, but by the time I had reached the passage I jostled +against de Chilly, who wanted to stop me, and when I descended +the staircase Victor Hugo had disappeared. I could only see +the old woman’s back, but it seemed to me that she hobbled +along now more briskly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day I told the poet that I had witnessed his +delicate good deed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” said Paul Meurice, his eyes wet with emotion, “every +day that dawns is a day of kindness for him.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I embraced Victor Hugo, and we went to the rehearsal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, those rehearsals of <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>! I shall never forget them, +for there was such good grace and charm about everything. +When Victor Hugo arrived, everything brightened up. His +two satellites, Auguste Vacquerie and Paul Meurice, scarcely +ever left him, and when the Master was absent they kept up +the divine fire.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Geffroy, severe, sad, and distinguished, often gave me advice. +During the intervals for rest I posed for him in various +attitudes, for he was a painter. In the <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i> of the Comédie +Française there are two pictures by him, representing two +generations of Sociétaires of both sexes. The pictures are not +of very original composition, neither are they of beautiful +colouring, but they are faithful likenesses, it appears, and rather +happily grouped.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Lafontaine, who was playing Ruy Blas, often had long discussions +with the Master, in which Victor Hugo never yielded. +And I must confess that he was always right.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Lafontaine had conviction and self-assurance, but his elocution +was very bad for poetry. He had lost his teeth, and they +were replaced by a set of false ones. This gave a certain slowness +to his delivery, and there was a little odd clacking sound +between his real palate and his artificial rubber palate, which +often distracted the ear listening attentively to catch the beauty +of the poetry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As for poor Talien, who was playing Don Guritan, he made +<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>a hash of it every minute. His comprehension of the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was +quite erroneous. Victor Hugo explained it to him clearly +and intelligently. Talien was a well-intentioned comedian, a +hard worker, always conscientious, but as stupid as a goose. +What he did not understand at first he never understood. As +long as he lived he would never understand. But, as he was +straightforward and loyal, he put himself into the hands of the +author, and gave himself up then in complete abnegation. +“That is not as I understood it,” he would say, “but I will do +as you tell me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He would then rehearse, word by word and gesture by +gesture, with the inflexions and movements required. This got +on my nerves in the most painful way, and was a cruel blow dealt +at the solidarity of my artistic pride. I often took this +poor Talien aside and tried to urge him on to rebellion, but it +was all in vain.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was tall, and his arms were too long, and his eyes tired; +his nose was weary with having grown too long, and it sank +over his lips in heartrending dejection. His forehead was +covered with thick hair, and his chin seemed to be running away +in a hurry from his ill-built face. A great kindliness was +diffused all over his being, and this kindliness was his very self. +Every one was therefore infinitely fond of him.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXI<br> <span class='large'>A MEMORABLE SUPPER</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>January 26, 1872, was an artistic <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> for the Odéon. The +<i><span lang="fr">Tout-Paris</span></i> of first nights and the vibrating younger elements +were to meet in the large, solemn, dusty theatre. Ah, what a +splendid, stirring performance it was! What a triumph for +Geffroy, pale, sinister, and severe-looking in his black costume +as Don Salluste. Mélingue rather disappointed the public as +Don César de Bazan, and the public was in the wrong. The +<i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Don César de Bazan is a treacherously good <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, which +always tempts artists by the brilliancy of the first act; but the +fourth act, which belongs entirely to him, is distressingly heavy +and useless. It might be taken out of the piece, just like a +periwinkle out of its shell, and the piece would be none the less +clear and complete.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This 26th of January rent asunder, though, for me the thin veil +which still made my future hazy, and I felt that I was destined +for celebrity. Until that day I had remained the students’ little +fairy. I became then the Elect of the public.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Breathless, dazed, and yet delighted by my success, I did not +know to whom to reply in the ever-changing stream of male and +female admirers. Then, suddenly, I saw the crowd separating and +forming two lines, and I caught a glimpse of Victor Hugo and +Girardin coming towards me. In a second all the stupid ideas +I had had about this immense genius flashed across me. I +remembered my first interview, when I had been stiff and +barely polite to this kind, indulgent man. At that moment, +when all my life was opening its wings, I should have liked +to cry out to him my repentance and to tell him of my devout +gratitude.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Before I could speak, though, he was down on his knee, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>raising my two hands to his lips, he murmured, “Thank you! +Thank you!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And so it was he who said “Thank you.” He, the great Victor +Hugo, whose soul was so beautiful, whose universal genius filled +the world! He, whose generous hands flung pardons like gems +to all his insulters. Ah, how small I felt, how ashamed, and yet +how happy! He then rose, shook the hands that were held out +to him, finding for every one the right word.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was so handsome that night, with his broad forehead, which +seemed to retain the light, his thick, silvery fleece of hair, and +his laughing luminous eyes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Not daring to fling myself in Victor Hugo’s arms, I fell into +Girardin’s, the sure friend of my first steps, and I burst into +tears. He took me aside in my dressing-room. “You must +not let yourself be intoxicated with this great success now,” he +said. “There must be no more risky jumps, now that you are +crowned with laurels. You will have to be more yielding, more +docile, more sociable.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I feel that I shall never be yielding nor docile, my friend,” +I answered looking at him, “I will try to be more sociable, +but that is all I can promise. As to my crown, I assure you +that in spite of my risky jumps, and I feel that I shall always +be making some, the crown will not shake off.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Paul Meurice, who had come up to us, overheard this conversation, +and reminded me of it on the evening of the first +performance of <cite>Angelo</cite> at the Sarah Bernhardt Theatre, on +February 7, 1905.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On returning home, I sat up a long time talking to Madame +Guérard, and when she wanted to go I begged her to stay +longer. I had become so rich in hopes for the future that I was +afraid of thieves. <i><span lang="fr">Mon petit Dame</span></i> stayed on with me, and we +talked till daybreak. At seven o’clock we took a cab and I +drove my dear friend home, and then continued driving for +another hour. I had already achieved a fair number of successes: +<span lang="fr"><cite>Le Passant</cite>, <cite>Le Drame de la Rue de la Paix</cite></span>, Anna +Danby in <cite>Kean</cite>, and <cite>Jean-Marie</cite>, but I felt that the <cite>Ruy Blas</cite> +success was greater than any of the others, and that this time +I had become some one to be criticised, but not to be overlooked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I often went in the morning to Victor Hugo’s, and he was +always very charming and kind.</p> +<div id='i232fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i232fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SKULL IN SARAH BERNHARDT’S<br> LIBRARY, WITH AUTOGRAPH<br> VERSES BY VICTOR HUGO</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>When I was quite at my ease with him, I spoke to him about +my first impressions, about all my stupid, nervous rebellion with +regard to him, about all that I had been told and all that I had +believed in my naïve ignorance about political matters.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One morning the Master took great delight in my conversation. +He sent for Madame Drouet, the sweet soul, the companion of +his glorious and rebellious mind. He told her, in a laughing but +melancholy way, that the evil work of bad people is to sow +error in every soil, whether favourable or not. That morning +is engraved for ever in my mind, for the great man talked a long +time. Oh, it was not for me, but for what I represented in his +eyes. Was I not, as a matter of fact, the young generation, in +which a <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> and clerical education had warped the intelligence +by closing the mind to every generous idea, to every flight +towards the new?</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I left Victor Hugo that morning I felt myself more +worthy of his friendship.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then went to Girardin’s, as I wanted to talk to some one +who loved the poet, but he was out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went next to Marshal Canrobert’s, and there I had a great +surprise. Just as I was getting out of the carriage, I nearly fell +into the arms of the Marshal, who was coming out of his house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What is it? What’s the matter? Is it postponed?” he +asked, laughing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not understand, and gazed at him rather bewildered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, have you forgotten that you invited me to luncheon?” +he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was quite confused, for I had entirely forgotten it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, all the better!” I said; “I very much wanted to talk +to you. Come; I am going to take you with me now.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then related my visit to Victor Hugo, and repeated all the +fine thoughts he had uttered, forgetting that I was constantly +saying things that were contrary to the Marshal’s ideas. This +admirable man could admire, though, and if he could not change +his opinions, he approved the great ideas which were to bring +about great changes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day, when he and Busnach were both at my house, there +was a political discussion which became rather violent. I +was afraid for a moment that things might take a bad turn, +as Busnach was the most witty and at the same time the rudest +<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>man in France. It is only fair to say, though, that if +Marshal Canrobert was a polite man and very well bred, he was +not at all behind William Busnach in wit. The latter was +worked up by the chafing speeches of the Marshal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I challenge you, Monsieur,” he exclaimed, “to write about +the odious Utopias that you have just been supporting!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Monsieur Busnach,” replied Canrobert coldly, “we do +not use the same steel for writing history! You use a pen, and +I a sword.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The luncheon that I had so completely forgotten was nevertheless +a luncheon arranged several days previously. On reaching +home we found there Paul de Rémusat, charming Mlle. Hocquigny, +and M. de Monbel, a young <i><span lang="fr">attaché d’ambassade</span></i>. I explained +my lateness as well as I could, and that morning finished in the +most delicious harmony of ideas.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I have never felt more than I did that day the infinite joy of +listening.</p> + +<p class='c013'>During a silence Mlle. Hocquigny turned to the Marshal and +said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you not of the opinion that our young friend should +enter the Comédie Française?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, no, no!” I exclaimed; “I am so happy at the Odéon. +I began at the Comédie, and the short time I remained there +I was very unhappy.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You will be obliged to go back there, my dear friend—obliged. +Believe me, it will be better early than late.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, do not spoil to-day’s pleasure for me, for I have never +been happier!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>One morning shortly after this my maid brought me a letter. +The large round stamp, on which are the words “Comédie +Française” was on the corner of the envelope.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remembered that ten years previously, almost day for day, +our old servant Marguerite had, with my mother’s permission, +handed me a letter in the same kind of envelope.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My face then had flushed with joy, but this time I felt a +faint tinge of pallor touch my cheeks.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When events occur which disturb my life, I always have a +movement of recoil. I cling for a second to what is, and then +I fling myself headlong into what is to be. It is like a gymnast +who clings first to his trapeze bar in order to fling himself +<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>afterwards with full force into space. In one second what now +is becomes for me what was, and I love it with tender emotion +as something dead. But I adore what is to be without seeking +even to know about it, for what is to be is the unknown, the +mysterious attraction. I always fancy that it will be something +unheard of, and I shudder from head to foot in delicious +uneasiness. I receive quantities of letters, and it seems to me +that I never receive enough. I watch them accumulating just +as I watch the waves of the sea. What are they going to +bring me, these mysterious envelopes, large, small, pink, blue, +yellow, white? What are they going to fling upon the rock, +these great wild waves, dark with seaweed? What sailor-boy’s +corpse? What remains of a wreck? What are these little +brisk waves going to leave on the beach, these reflections of a +blue sky, little laughing waves? What pink “sea-star”? +What mauve anemone? What pearly shell?</p> + +<p class='c013'>So I never open my letters immediately. I look at the +envelopes, try to recognise the handwriting and the seal; and it +is only when I am quite certain from whom the letter comes that +I open it. The others I leave my secretary to open or a kind +friend, Suzanne Seylor. My friends know this so well that they +always put their initials in the corner of their envelopes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At that time I had no secretary, but <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> served +me as such.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at the envelope a long time, and gave it at last to +Madame Guérard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is a letter from M. Perrin, director of the Comédie +Française,” she said. “He asks if you can fix a time to see him +on Tuesday or Wednesday afternoon at the Comédie Française +or at your own house.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Thanks. What day is it to-day?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Monday,” she replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then installed Madame Guérard at my desk, and asked her +to reply that I would go there the following day at three +o’clock.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was earning very little at that time at the Odéon. I was +living on what my father had left me—that is, on the transaction +made by the Hâvre notary—and not much remained. I therefore +went to see Duquesnel and showed him the letter.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, what are you going to do?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>“Nothing. I have come to ask your advice.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well, I advise you to remain at the Odéon. Besides, +your engagement does not terminate for another year, and I +shall not allow you leave!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, raise my salary, then,” I said. “I am offered twelve +thousand francs a year at the Comédie. Give me fifteen +thousand here and I will stay, for I do not want to leave.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Listen to me,” said the charming manager in a friendly +way. “You know that I am not free to act alone. I will do my +best, I promise you.” And Duquesnel certainly kept his word. +“Come here to-morrow before going to the Comédie, and I +will give you Chilly’s reply. But take my advice, and if he +obstinately refuses to increase your salary, do not leave; we shall +find some way.... And besides—— Anyhow, I cannot say +any more.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned the following day according to arrangement.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I found Duquesnel and Chilly in the managerial office. Chilly +began at once somewhat roughly:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And so you want to leave, Duquesnel tells me. Where are +you going? It is most stupid, for your place is here. Just +consider, and think it over for yourself. At the Gymnase they +only give modern pieces, dressy plays. That is not your style. +At the Vaudeville it is the same. At the Gaîté you would +spoil your voice. You are too distinguished for the Ambigu.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at him without replying. I saw that his partner had +not spoken to him about the Comédie Française. He felt +awkward, and mumbled:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, you are of my opinion?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” I answered; “you have forgotten the Comédie.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was sitting in his big arm-chair, and he burst out +laughing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah no, my dear girl,” he said, “you must not tell me that. +They’ve had enough of your queer character at the Comédie. I +dined the other night with Maubant, and when some one said +that you ought to be engaged at the Comédie Française he +nearly choked with rage. I can assure you the great tragedian +did not show much affection for you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well, you ought to have taken my part,” I exclaimed, +irritated. “You know very well that I am a most serious +member of your company.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>“But I did take your part,” he said, “and I added even that +it would be a very fortunate thing for the Comédie if it could +have an artiste with your will power, which perhaps might relieve +the monotonous tone of the house; and I only spoke as I thought, +but the poor tragedian was beside himself. He does not consider +that you have any talent. In the first place, he maintains that +you do not know how to recite verse. He declares that you +make all your <em>a</em>’s too broad. Finally, when he had no arguments +left he declared that as long as he lives you will never enter the +Comédie Française.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was silent for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of the +probable result of my experiment. Finally coming to a decision, +I murmured somewhat waveringly:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, you will not give me a higher salary?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, a thousand times no!” yelled Chilly. “You will try +to make me pay up when your engagement comes to an end, +and then we shall see. But I have your signature until then. +You have mine, too, and I hold to our engagement. The +Théâtre Français is the only one that would suit you beside +ours, and I am quite easy in my mind with regard to that +theatre.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You make a mistake perhaps,” I answered. He got up +brusquely and came and stood opposite me, his two hands in his +pockets. He then said in an odious and familiar tone:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, that’s it, is it? You think I am an idiot, then?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I got up too, and said coldly, pushing him gently back, “I +think you are a triple idiot.” I then hurried away towards the +staircase, and all Duquesnel’s shouting was in vain. I ran down +the stairs two at a time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving under the Odéon arcade I was stopped by Paul +Meurice, who was just going to invite Duquesnel and Chilly, on +behalf of Victor Hugo, to a supper to celebrate the one hundredth +performance of <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I have just come from your house,” he said. “I have left +you a few lines from Victor Hugo.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good, good; that’s all right,” I replied, getting into my +carriage. “I shall see you to-morrow then, my friend.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good Heavens, what a hurry you are in!” he said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes!” I replied, and then, leaning out of the window, I +said to my coachman, “Drive to the Comédie Française.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>I looked at Paul Meurice to wish him farewell. He was +standing stupefied on the arcade steps.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving at the Comédie I sent my card to Perrin, and five +minutes later was ushered in to that icy mannikin. There were +two very distinct personages in this man. The one was the man +he was himself, and the other the one he had created for the +requirements of his profession. Perrin himself was gallant, +pleasant, witty, and slightly timid; the mannikin was cold, and +somewhat given to posing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was first received by Perrin the mannikin. He was standing +up, his head bent, bowing to a woman, his arm outstretched to +indicate the hospitable arm-chair. He waited with a certain +affectation until I was seated before sitting down himself. He +then picked up a paper-knife, in order to have something to do +with his hands, and in a rather weak voice, the voice of the +mannikin, he remarked:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Have you thought it over, Mademoiselle?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Monsieur, and here I am to give my signature.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Before he had time to give me any encouragement to dabble +with the things on his desk, I drew up my chair, picked up a +pen, and prepared to sign the paper. I did not take enough +ink at first, and I stretched my arm out across the whole width +of the writing table, and dipped my pen this time resolutely +to the bottom of the ink-pot. I took too much ink, however, +this time, and on the return journey a huge spot of it fell +on the large sheet of white paper in front of the mannikin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He bent his head, for he was slightly short-sighted, and +looked for a moment like a bird when it discovers a hemp-seed +in its grain. He then proceeded to put aside the blotted sheet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Wait a minute, oh, wait a minute!” I exclaimed, seizing the +inky paper. “I want to see whether I am doing right or not to +sign. If that is a butterfly I am right, and if anything else, no +matter what, I am wrong.” I took the sheet, doubled it in the +middle of the enormous blot, and pressed it firmly together. +Emile Perrin thereupon began to laugh, giving up his +mannikin attitude entirely. He leaned over to examine the +paper with me, and we opened it very gently just as one +opens one’s hand after imprisoning a fly. When the paper was +spread open, in the midst of its whiteness a magnificent black +butterfly with outspread wings was to be seen.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>“Well then,” said Perrin, with nothing of the mannikin left, +“we were quite right in signing.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>After this we talked for some time, like two friends who meet +again, for this man was charming and very fascinating, in spite +of his ugliness. When I left him we were friends and delighted +with each other.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was playing in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite> that night at the Odéon. Towards +ten o’clock Duquesnel came to my dressing-room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You were rather rough on that poor Chilly,” he said. “And +you really were not nice. You ought to have come back when +I called you. Is it true, as Paul Meurice tells us, that you +went straight to the Théâtre Français?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here, read for yourself,” I said, handing him my engagement +with the Comédie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Duquesnel took the paper and read it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you let me show it to Chilly?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Show it him, certainly,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He came nearer, and said in a grave, hurt tone:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You ought never to have done that without telling me first. +It shows a lack of confidence I do not deserve.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was right, but the thing was done. A moment later +Chilly arrived, furious, gesticulating, shouting, stammering in +his anger.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is abominable!” he said. “It is treason, and you had not +even the right to do it. I shall make you pay damages.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I felt in a bad humour, I turned my back on him, and +apologised as feebly as possible to Duquesnel. He was hurt, +and I was a little ashamed, for this man had given me nothing +but proofs of kindliness, and it was he who, in spite of Chilly +and many other unwilling people, had held the door open for +my future.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Chilly kept his word, and brought an action against me and +the Comédie. I lost, and had to pay six thousand francs +damages to the managers of the Odéon.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few weeks later Victor Hugo invited the artistes who performed +in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite> to a big supper in honour of the one hundredth +performance. This was a great delight to me, as I had +never been present at a supper of this kind.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had scarcely spoken to Chilly since our last scene. On the +night in question he was placed at my right, and we had to get +<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>reconciled. I was seated to the right of Victor Hugo, and to +his left was Madame Lambquin, who was playing the Camerara +Mayor, and Duquesnel was next to Madame Lambquin. Opposite +the illustrious poet was another poet, Théophile Gautier, +with his lion’s head on an elephant’s body. He had a brilliant +mind, and said the choicest things with a horse laugh. The +flesh of his fat, flabby, wan face was pierced by two eyes veiled +by heavy lids. The expression of them was charming, but far +away. There was in this man an Oriental nobility choked by +Western fashion and customs. I knew nearly all his poetry, and +I gazed at him with affection—the fond lover of the beautiful.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It amused me to imagine him dressed in superb Oriental +costumes. I could see him lying down on huge cushions, his +beautiful hands playing with gems of all colours; and some of +his verses came in murmurs to my lips. I was just setting off +with him in a dream that was infinite, when a word from my +neighbour, Victor Hugo, made me turn towards him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>What a difference! He was just himself, the great poet—the +most ordinary of beings except for his luminous forehead. He +was heavy-looking, although very active. His nose was common, +his eyes lewd, and his mouth without any beauty; his voice alone +had nobility and charm. I liked to listen to him whilst looking +at Théophile Gautier.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was a little embarrassed, though, when I looked across the +table, for at the side of the poet was an odious individual, Paul +de St. Victor. His cheeks looked like two bladders from which +the oil they contained was oozing out. His nose was sharp and +like a crow’s beak, his eyes evil-looking and hard; his arms +were too short, and he was too stout. He looked like a jaundice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He had plenty of wit and talent, but he employed both +in saying and writing more harm than good. I knew that +this man hated me, and I promptly returned him hatred for +hatred.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In answer to the toast proposed by Victor Hugo thanking +every one for such zealous help on the revival of his work, each +person raised his glass and looked towards the poet, but the +illustrious master turned towards me and continued, “As to +you, Madame——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Just at this moment Paul de St. Victor put his glass down +so violently on the table that it broke. There was an instant +of stupor, and then I leaned across the table and held my glass +out towards Paul de St. Victor.</p> + +<div id='i240fp' class='figcenter id006'> +<img src='images/i240fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic001'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AT A FANCY-DRESS BALL<br> <br> <span class='sc'>By Walter Spindler</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>“Take mine, Monsieur,” I said, “and then when you drink +you will know what my thoughts are in reply to yours, which +you have just expressed so clearly!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The horrid man took my glass, but with what a look!</p> + +<p class='c013'>Victor Hugo finished his speech in the midst of applause and +cheers. Duquesnel then leaned back and spoke to me quietly. +He asked me to tell Chilly to reply to Victor Hugo. I did as +requested. But he gazed at me with a glassy look, and in a +far-away voice replied:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Some one is holding my legs.” I looked at him more attentively, +whilst Duquesnel asked for silence for M. de Chilly’s +speech. I saw that his fingers were grasping a fork desperately; +the tips of his fingers were white, the rest of the hand was violet. +I took his hand, and it was icy cold; the other was hanging +down inert under the table. There was silence, and all eyes +turned towards Chilly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Get up,” I said, seized with terror. He made a movement, +and his head suddenly fell forward with his face on his plate. +There was a muffled uproar, and the few women present +surrounded the poor man. Stupid, commonplace, indifferent things +were uttered in the same way that one mutters familiar prayers. +His son was sent for, and then two of the waiters came and +carried the body away, living but inert, and placed it in a small +drawing-room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Duquesnel stayed with him, begging me, however, to go back +to the poet’s guests. I returned to the room where the supper +had taken place. Groups had been formed, and when I was +seen entering I was asked if he was still as ill.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The doctor has just arrived, and he cannot yet say,” I +replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is indigestion,” said Lafontaine (Ruy Blas), tossing off +a glass of liqueur brandy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is cerebral anæmia,” pronounced Talien (Don Guritan), +clumsily, for he was always losing his memory.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Victor Hugo approached and said very simply:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is a beautiful kind of death.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He then took my arm and led me away to the other end of +the room, trying to chase my thoughts away by gallant and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>poetical whispers. Some little time passed with this gloom +weighing on us, and then Duquesnel appeared. He was pale, +but appeared as if nothing serious was the matter. He was +ready to answer all questions.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh yes; he had just been taken home. It would be nothing, +it appeared. He only needed rest for a couple of days. Probably +his feet had been cold during the meal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” put in one of the <cite>Ruy Blas</cite> guests, “there certainly +was a fine draught under the table.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” Duquesnel was just replying to some one who was +worrying him, “yes; no doubt there was too much heat for +his head.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” added another of the guests, “our heads were nearly +on fire with that wretched gas.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could see the moment arriving when Victor Hugo would be +reproached by all of his guests for the cold, the heat, the food, +and the wine of his banquet. All these imbecile remarks got on +Duquesnel’s nerves. He shrugged his shoulders, and drawing +me away from the crowd, said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s all over with him.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had had the presentiment of this, but the certitude of it +now caused me intense grief.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I want to go,” I said to Duquesnel. “Kindly tell some +one to ask for my carriage.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I moved towards the small drawing-room which served as +a cloak-room for our wraps, and there old Madame Lambquin +knocked up against me. Slightly intoxicated by the heat and +the wine, she was waltzing with Talien.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, I beg your pardon, little Madonna,” she said; “I nearly +knocked you over.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I pulled her towards me, and without reflecting whispered +to her, “Don’t dance any more, Mamma Lambquin; Chilly is +dying.” She was purple, but her face turned as white as chalk. +Her teeth began to chatter, but she did not utter a word.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, my dear Lambquin,” I murmured; “I did not know I +should make you so wretched.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was not listening to me, though, any longer; she was +putting on her cloak.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you leaving?” she asked me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>“Will you drive me home? I will then tell you——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She wrapped a black fichu round her head, and we both +went downstairs, accompanied by Duquesnel and Paul Meurice, +who saw us into the carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She lived in the St. Germain quarter and I in the Rue de +Rome. On the way the poor woman told me the following story.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You know, my dear,” she began, “I have a mania for +somnambulists and fortune-tellers of all kinds. Well, last +Friday (you see, I only consult them on a Friday) a woman who +tells fortunes by cards said to me, ‘You will die a week after a +man who is dark and not young, and whose life is connected with +yours.’ Well, my dear, I thought she was just making game of +me, for there is no man whose life is connected with mine, as I am +a widow and have never had any <i><span lang="fr">liaison</span></i>. I therefore abused her +for this, as I pay her seven francs. She charges ten francs to other +people, but seven francs to artistes. She was furious at my not +believing her, and she seized my hands and said, ‘It’s no good +yelling at me, for it is as I say. And if you want me to tell you +the exact truth, it is a man who supports you; and, even to be +more exact still, there are two men who support you, the one +dark and the other fair; it’s a nice thing that!’ She had not +finished her speech before I had given her such a slap as she had +never had in her life, I can assure you. Afterwards, though, +I puzzled my head to find out what the wretched woman could +have meant. And all I could find was that the two men who +support me, the one dark and the other fair, are our two managers, +Chilly and Duquesnel. And now you tell me that Chilly——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She stopped short, breathless with her story, and again +seized with terror. “I feel stifled,” she murmured, and in spite +of the freezing cold we lowered both the windows. On arriving +I helped her up her four flights of stairs, and after telling the +<i><span lang="fr">concierge</span></i> to look after her, and giving the woman a twenty-franc +piece to make sure that she would do so, I went home myself, +very much upset by all these incidents, as dramatic as they were +unexpected, in the middle of a <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Three days later Chilly died, without ever recovering consciousness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Twelve days later poor Lambquin died. To the priest who +gave her absolution she said, “I am dying because I listened to +and believed the demon.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXII<br> <span class='large'>AT THE COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE AGAIN—SCULPTURE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>I left the Odéon with very great regret, for I adored and still +adore that theatre. It always seems as though in itself it were +a little provincial town. Its hospitable arcades, under which so +many poor old <i><span lang="fr">savants</span></i> take fresh air and shelter themselves +from the sun; the large flagstones all round, between the +crevices of which microscopic yellow grass grows; its tall pillars, +blackened by time, by hands, and by the dirt from the road; the +uninterrupted noise going on all around, the departure of the +omnibuses, like the departure of the old coaches, the fraternity +of the people who meet there; everything, even to the very +railings of the Luxembourg, gives it a quite special aspect in +the midst of Paris. Then too there is a kind of odour of the +colleges there—the very walls are impregnated with youthful +hopes. People are not always talking there of yesterday, as they +do in the other theatres. The young artistes who come there +talk of to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In short, my mind never goes back to those few years of my +life without a childish emotion, without thinking of laughter +and without a dilation of the nostrils, inhaling again the odour +of little ordinary bouquets, clumsily tied up, bouquets which +had all the freshness of flowers that grow in the open air, +flowers that were the offerings of the hearts of twenty summers, +little bouquets paid for out of the purses of students.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I would not take anything away with me from the Odéon. +I left the furniture of my dressing-room to a young artiste. +I left my costumes, all the little toilette knick-knacks—I +divided them and gave them away. I felt that my life of +hopes and dreams was to cease there. I felt that the ground +was now ready for the fruition of all the dreams, but that the +struggle with life was about to commence, and I divined +rightly.</p> +<div id='i244fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i244fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AT WORK<br> ON HER <em>MÉDÉE</em></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>My first experience at the Comédie Française had not been a +success. I knew that I was going into the lions’ den. I counted +few friends in this house, except Laroche, Coquelin, and +Mounet-Sully—the first two my friends of the Conservatoire +and the latter of the Odéon. Among the women, Marie Lloyd +and Sophie Croizette, both friends of my childhood; the +disagreeable Jouassain, who was nice only to me; and the adorable +Marie Brohan, whose kindness delighted the soul, whose wit +charmed the mind, and whose indifference rebuffed devotion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Perrin decided that I should make my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> in +<cite><span lang="fr">Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle</span></cite>, according to Sarcey’s wish.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The rehearsals began in the <i><span lang="fr">foyer</span></i>, which troubled me very +much. Mile. Brohan was to play the part of the Marquise +de Prie. At this time she was so fat as to be almost unsightly, +while I was so thin that the composers of popular and comic +verses took my meagre proportions as their theme and the +cartoonists as a subject for their albums.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was therefore impossible for the Duc de Richelieu to +mistake the Marquise de Prie (Madeleine Brohan) for Mademoiselle +de Belle-Isle (Sarah Bernhardt) in the irreverent nocturnal +rendezvous given by the Marquise to the Duc, who +thinks he embraces the chaste Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At each rehearsal Bressant, who took the part of the Duc de +Richelieu, would stop, saying, “No, it is too ridiculous. I must +play the Duc de Richelieu with both my arms cut off!” And +Madeleine left the rehearsal to go to the director’s room in +order to try and get rid of the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was exactly what Perrin wanted; he had from the +earliest moment thought of Croizette, but he wanted to have +his hand forced for private and underhand reasons which he +knew and which others guessed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At last the change took place, and the serious rehearsals +commenced.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then the first performance was announced for November 6 +(1872).</p> + +<p class='c013'>I have always suffered, and still suffer, terribly from stage +fright, especially when I know that much is expected of me. +I knew a long time beforehand that every seat in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>house had been booked; I knew that the Press expected a great +success, and that Perrin himself was reckoning on a long series +of big receipts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Alas! all these hopes and predictions went for nothing, and +my <em>re-début</em> at the Comédie Française was only moderately +successful.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following is an extract from the <cite><span lang="fr">Temps</span></cite> of November 11, +1872. It was written by Francisque Sarcey, with whom I was +not then acquainted, but who was following my career with +very great interest. “It was a very brilliant assembly, as this +<i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> had attracted all theatre-lovers. The fact is, beside the +special merit of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, a whole crowd of true +or false stories had been circulated about her personally, and all +this had excited the curiosity of the Parisian public. Her +appearance was a disappointment. She had by her costume +exaggerated in a most ostentatious way a slenderness which +is elegant under the veils and ample drapery of the Grecian +and Roman heroines, but which is objectionable in modern +dress. Then, too, either powder does not suit her, or stage +fright had made her terribly pale. The effect of this long +white face emerging from a long black sheath was certainly +unpleasant [I looked like an ant], particularly as the eyes +had lost their brilliancy and all that relieved the face were the +sparkling white teeth. She went through the first three acts +with a convulsive tremor, and we only recognised the Sarah of +<cite>Ruy Blas</cite> by two couplets which she gave in her enchanting +voice with the most wonderful grace, but in all the more +powerful passages she was a failure. I doubt whether Mlle. +Sarah Bernhardt will ever, with her delicious voice, be able to +render those deep thrilling notes, expressive of paroxysms of +violent passion, which are capable of carrying away an audience. +If only nature had endowed her with this gift she would be a +perfect artiste, and there are none such on the stage. Roused +by the coldness of her public, Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt was +entirely herself in the fifth act. This was certainly our Sarah +once more, the Sarah of <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, whom we had admired so +much at the Odéon....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As Sarcey said, I made a complete failure of my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i>. My +excuse, though, was not the “stage fright” to which he attributed +it, but the terrible anxiety I felt on seeing my mother +<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>hurriedly leave her seat in the dress circle five minutes after my +appearance on the stage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had glanced at her on entering, and had noticed her deathlike pallor. When she went out I felt that she was about to +have one of those attacks which endangered her life, so that the +first act seemed to me interminable. I uttered one word after +another, stammering through my sentences haphazard, with +only one idea in my head, a longing to know what had happened. +Oh, the public cannot conceive of the tortures endured +by the unfortunate comedians who are there before them in flesh +and blood on the stage, gesticulating and uttering phrases, +while their heart, all torn with anguish, is with the beloved +absent one who is suffering. As a rule, one can fling away +the worries and anxieties of every-day life, put off one’s own +personality for a few hours, take on another, and, forgetting +everything else, enter as it were into another life. But that is +impossible when our dear ones are suffering. Anxiety then lays +hold of us, attenuating the bright side, magnifying the dark, +maddening our brain, which is living two lives at once, and +tormenting our heart, which is beating as though it would +burst.</p> + +<p class='c013'>These were the sensations I experienced during the first act.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Mamma! What has happened to Mamma?” were my first +words on leaving the stage. No one could tell me anything.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Croizette came up to me and said, “What’s the matter? +I hardly recognise you as you are, and you weren’t yourself at +all just now in the play.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>In a few words I told her what I had seen and all that I had +felt. Frédéric Febvre sent at once to get news, and the doctor +came hurrying to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Your mother had a fainting fit, Mademoiselle,” he said, +“but they have just taken her home.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It was her heart, wasn’t it?” I asked, looking at him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” he replied; “Madame’s heart is in a very agitated +state.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I know how ill she is,” I said, and not being able to +control myself any longer, I burst into sobs. Croizette helped +me back to my dressing-room. She was very kind; we had +known each other from childhood, and were very fond of each +other. Nothing ever estranged us, in spite of all the malicious +<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>gossip of envious people and all the little miseries due to +vanity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My dear Madame Guérard took a cab and hurried away to my +mother to get news for me. I put a little more powder on, but +the public, not knowing what was taking place, were annoyed +with me, thinking I was guilty of some fresh caprice, and +received me still more coldly than before. It was all the same +to me, as I was thinking of something else. I went on saying +Mlle. de Belle-Isle’s words (a most stupid and tiresome <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>), but +all the time I, Sarah, was waiting for news about my mother. +I was watching for the return of <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>. “Open the +door on the O.P. side just a little way,” I had said to her, “and +make a sign like this if Mamma is better, and like that if she is +worse.” But I had forgotten which of the signs was to stand for +better, and when, at the end of the third act I saw Madame +Guérard opening the door and nodding her head for “yes,” I +became quite idiotic.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was in the big scene of the third act, when Mlle. de Belle-Isle +reproaches the Duc de Richelieu (Bressant) with doing her +such irreparable harm. The Duc replies, “Why did you not +say that some one was listening, that some one was hidden?” +I exclaimed, “It’s Guérard bringing me news!” The public +had not time to understand, for Bressant went on quickly, and so +saved the situation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After an unenthusiastic call I heard that my mother was +better, but that she had had a very serious attack. Poor +mamma, she had thought me such a fright when I made my +appearance on the stage that her superb indifference had given +way to grievous astonishment, and that in its turn to rage on +hearing a lady seated near her say in a jeering tone, “Why, +she’s like a dried bone, this little Bernhardt!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was greatly relieved on getting the news, and I played my +last act with confidence. The great success of the evening, +though, was Croizette’s, who was charming as the Marquise de +Prie. My success, nevertheless, was assured in the performances +which followed, and it became so marked that I was accused +of paying for applause. I laughed heartily at this, and never +even contradicted the report, as I have a horror of useless +words.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I next appeared as Junie in <cite><span lang="la">Britannicus</span></cite>, with Mounet-Sully, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>who played admirably as Nero. In this delicious <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Junie +I obtained an immense and incredible success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then in 1873 I played Chérubin in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Mariage de Figaro</span></cite>. +Croizette played Suzanne, and it was a real treat for the public +to see that delightful creature play a part so full of gaiety and +charm.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Chérubin was for me the opportunity of a fresh success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In the month of March 1873 Perrin took it into his head to +stage <cite>Dalila</cite>, by Octave Feuillet. I was then taking the part of +young girls, young princesses, or boys. My slight frame, my +pale face, my delicate aspect marked me out for the time being +for the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of victim. Perrin, who thought that the victims +attracted pity, and that it was for this reason I pleased my +audiences, cast the play most ridiculously: he gave me the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> +of Dalila, the swarthy, wicked, and ferocious princess, and to +Sophie Croizette he gave the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of the fair young dying girl.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The piece, with this strange cast, was destined to fail. I +forced my character in order to appear the haughty and +voluptuous siren; I stuffed my bodice with wadding and the hips +under my skirts with horse-hair; but I kept my small, thin, sorrowful +face. Croizette was obliged to repress the advantages of +her bust by bands which oppressed and suffocated her, but she +kept her pretty plump face with its dimples.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was obliged to put on a strong voice, she to soften hers. +In fact, it was absurd. The piece was a <i><span lang="fr">demi-succès</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After that I created <cite><span lang="fr">L’Absent</span></cite>, a pretty piece in verse, by +Eugène Manuel; <cite><span lang="fr">Chez l’Avocat</span></cite>, a very amusing thing in verse, +by Paul Ferrier, in which Coquelin and I quarrelled beautifully. +Then, on August 22, I played with immense success the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of +Andromaque. I shall never forget the first performance, in which +Mounet-Sully obtained a delirious triumph. Oh, how fine he +was, Mounet-Sully, in his <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Orestes! His entrance, his fury, +his madness, and the plastic beauty of this marvellous artiste—how +magnificent!</p> + +<p class='c013'>After <cite>Andromaque</cite> I played Aricie in <cite>Phèdre</cite>, and in this +secondary <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> it was I who really made the success of the evening.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took such a position in a very short time at the Comédie +that some of the artistes began to feel uneasy, and the management +shared their anxiety. M. Perrin, an extremely intelligent +man, whom I have always remembered with great affection, was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>horribly authoritative. I was also, so that there was always +perpetual warfare between us. He wanted to impose his will on +me, and I would not submit to it. He was always ready to +laugh at my outbursts when they were against the others, but +he was furious when they were directed against himself. As for +me, I will own that to get Perrin in a fury was one of my +delights. He stammered so when he tried to talk quickly, he +who weighed every word on ordinary occasions; the expression +of his eyes, which was generally wavering, grew irritated and +deceitful, and his pale, distinguished-looking face became mottled +with patches of wine-dreg colour.</p> + +<p class='c013'>His fury made him take his hat off and put it on again fifteen +times in as many minutes, and his extremely smooth hair stood +on end with this mad gallop of his head-gear. Although I had +certainly arrived at the age of discretion, I delighted in my +wicked mischievousness, which I always regretted after, but which +I was always ready to recommence; and even now, after all the +days, weeks, months, and years that I have lived since then, it +still gives me infinite pleasure to play a joke on any one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>All the same, life at the Comédie began to affect my nerves.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I wanted to play Camille in <cite><span lang="fr">On ne badine pas avec l’amour</span></cite>: +the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was given to Croizette. I wanted to play Célimène: +that <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was Croizette’s. Perrin was very partial to Croizette. +He admired her, and as she was very ambitious, she was most +thoughtful and docile, which charmed the authoritative old man. +She always obtained everything she wanted, and as Sophie +Croizette was frank and straightforward, she often said to me +when I was grumbling, “Do as I do; be more yielding. You pass +your time in rebelling; I appear to be doing everything that +Perrin wants me to do, but in reality I make him do all I want +him to. Try the same thing.” I accordingly screwed up my +courage and went up to see Perrin. He nearly always said to +me when we met, “Ah, how do you do, Mademoiselle Revolt? +Are you calm to-day?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, very calm,” I replied; “but be amiable and grant me +what I am going to ask you.” I tried to be charming, and spoke +in my prettiest way. He almost purred with satisfaction, and +was witty (this was no effort to him, as he was naturally so), and +we got on very well together for a quarter of an hour. I then +made my petition:</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>“Let me play Camille in <cite><span lang="fr">On ne badine pas avec l’amour</span></cite>”.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That’s impossible, my dear child,” he replied; “Croizette is +playing it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, we’ll both play it; we’ll take it in turns.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But Mademoiselle Croizette wouldn’t like that.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I’ve spoken to her about it, and she would not mind it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You ought not to have spoken to her about it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why not?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Because the management does the casting, not the artistes.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He didn’t purr any more, he only growled. As for me, I was +in a fury, and a few minutes later I went out of the room, banging +the door after me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>All this preyed on my mind, though, and I used to cry all +night. I then decided to take a studio and devote myself to +sculpture. As I was not able to use my intelligence and my +energy in creating <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i> at the theatre, as I wished, I gave myself +up to another art, and began working at sculpture with +frantic enthusiasm. I soon made great progress, and started on +an enormous composition, <cite>After the Storm</cite>. I was indifferent +now to the theatre. Every morning at eight my horse was +brought round, and I went for a ride, and at ten I was back in +my studio, 11 Boulevard de Clichy. I was very delicate, and +my health suffered from the double effort I was making. I used +to vomit blood in the most alarming way, and for hours together +I was unconscious. I never went to the Comédie except when +obliged by my duties there. My friends were seriously concerned +about me, and Perrin was informed of what was going on. +Finally, incited by the Press and the Department of Fine Arts, +he decided to give me a <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> to create in Octave Feuillet’s play +<cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The principal part was for Croizette, but on hearing the play +read I thought the part destined for me charming, and I resolved +that it should also be the principal <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>. There would have to be +two principal ones, that was all. The rehearsals went along +very smoothly at the start, but it soon became evident that my +<i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was more important than had been imagined, and friction +soon began.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Croizette herself got nervous, Perrin was annoyed, and all +this by-play had the effect of calming me. Octave Feuillet, a +shrewd, charming man, extremely well bred and slightly ironical, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>thoroughly enjoyed the skirmishes that took place. War was +doomed to break out, however, and the first hostilities came +from Sophie Croizette.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I always wore in my bodice three or four roses, which were apt to +open under the influence of the warmth, and some of the petals +naturally fell. One day Sophie Croizette slipped down full +length on the stage, and as she was tall and not slim, she fell rather +unbecomingly, and got up again ungracefully. The stifled laughter +of some of the subordinate persons present stung her to the quick, +and turning to me she said, “It’s your fault; your roses fall +and make every one slip down.” I began to laugh.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Three petals of my roses have fallen,” I replied, “and there +they all three are by the arm-chair on the prompt side, and you +fell on the O.P. side. It isn’t my fault, therefore; it is just your +own awkwardness.” The discussion continued, and was rather +heated on both sides. Two clans were formed, the “Croizettists” +and the “Bernhardtists.” War was declared, not between Sophie +and me, but between our respective admirers and detractors. +The rumour of these little quarrels spread in the world outside +the theatre, and the public too began to form clans. Croizette +had on her side all the bankers and all the people who were +suffering from repletion. I had all the artists, the students, +dying folks, and the failures. When once war was declared +there was no drawing back from the strife. The first, the most +fierce, and the definitive battle was fought over the moon.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had begun the full dress rehearsals. In the third act +the scene was laid in a forest glade. In the middle of the stage +was a huge rock upon which was Blanche (Croizette) kissing +Savigny (Delaunay), who was supposed to be my husband. +I (Berthe de Savigny) had to arrive by a little bridge over a +stream of water. The glade was bathed in moonlight. Croizette +had just played her part, and her kiss had been greeted with a +burst of applause. This was rather daring in those days for +the Comédie Française. (But since then what have they not +given there?)</p> + +<p class='c013'>Suddenly a fresh burst of applause was heard. Amazement +could be read on some faces, and Perrin stood up terrified. +I was crossing over the bridge, my pale face ravaged with grief, +and the <i><span lang="fr">sortie de bal</span></i> which was intended to cover my shoulders +was dragging along, just held by my limp fingers; my arms +were hanging down as though despair had taken the use out of +them. I was bathed in the white light of the moon, and the +effect, it seems, was striking and deeply impressive. A nasal, +aggressive voice cried out, “One moon effect is enough. Turn +it off for Mademoiselle Bernhardt.”</p> +<div id='i252fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i252fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT PAINTING<br> (1878–9)</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>I sprang forward to the front of the stage. “Excuse me, +Monsieur Perrin,” I exclaimed, “you have no right to take my +moon away. The manuscript reads, <em>Berthe advances, pale, +convulsed with emotion, the rays of the moon falling on her</em>.... +I am pale and I am convulsed. I must have my moon.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is impossible,” roared Perrin. “Mademoiselle Croizette’s +words: ‘You love me, then!’ and her kiss must have this moonlight. +She is playing the Sphinx; that is the chief part in the +play, and we must leave her the principal effect.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very well, then; give Croizette a brilliant moon, and give +me a less brilliant one. I don’t mind that, but I must have my +moon.” All the artistes and all the <i><span lang="fr">employés</span></i> of the theatre put +their heads in at all the doorways and openings both on the +stage and in the house itself. The “Croizettists” and the +“Bernhardtists” began to comment on the discussion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Octave Feuillet was appealed to, and he got up in his turn.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I grant that Mademoiselle Croizette is very beautiful in her +moon effect. Mademoiselle Sarah Bernhardt is ideal too, with her +ray of moonlight. I want the moon therefore for both of them.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin could not control his anger. There was a discussion +between the author and the director, followed by others between +the artistes, and between the door-keeper and the journalists +who were questioning him. The rehearsal was interrupted. I +declared that I would not play the part if I did not have my +moon. For the next two days I received no notice of another +rehearsal, but through Croizette I heard that they were trying +my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Berthe privately. They had given it to a young +woman whom we had nicknamed “the Crocodile,” because she +followed all the rehearsals just as that animal follows boats—she +was always hoping to snatch up some <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> that might happen +to be thrown overboard. Octave Feuillet refused to accept the +change of artistes, and he came himself to fetch me, accompanied +by Delaunay, who had negotiated matters.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s all settled,” he said, kissing my hands; “there will be a +moon for both of you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>The first night was a triumph both for Croizette and for +me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The party strife between the two clans waxed warmer and +warmer, and this added to our success and amused us both +immensely, for Croizette was always a delightful friend and a +loyal comrade. She worked for her own ends, but never against +any one else.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After <cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite> I played a pretty piece in one act by a +young pupil of the Ecole Polytechnique, Louis Denayrouse, +<cite><span lang="fr">La Belle Paule.</span></cite> This author has now become a renowned +scientific man, and has renounced poetry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had begged Perrin to give me a month’s holiday, but he refused +energetically, and compelled me to take part in the rehearsals of +<cite>Zaïre</cite> during the trying months of June and July, and, in spite +of my reluctance, announced the first performance for August 6. +That year it was fearfully hot in Paris. I believe that Perrin, +who could not tame me alive, had, without really any bad +intention, but by pure autocracy, the desire to tame me dead. +Doctor Parrot went to see him, and told him that my state of +weakness was such that it would be positively dangerous for me +to act during the trying heat. Perrin would hear nothing of it. +Then, furious at the obstinacy of this intellectual <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i>, +I swore I would play on to the death.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Often, when I was a child, I wished to kill myself in order to +vex others. I remember once having drunk the contents of a +large ink-pot after being compelled by mamma to swallow a +“panade,”<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c019'><sup>[2]</sup></a> because she imagined that panades were good for +the health. Our nurse had told her my dislike to this form of +nourishment, adding that every morning I emptied the panade +into the slop-pail. I had, of course, a very bad stomach-ache, +and screamed out in pain. I cried to mamma, “It is you who +have killed me!” and my poor mother wept. She never knew +the truth, but they never again made me swallow anything +against my will.</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c013'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Bread stewed a long time in water and flavoured with a little butter and +sugar, a kind of “sops” given to children in France.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>Well, after so many years I experienced the same bitter and +childish sentiment. “I don’t care,” I said; “I shall certainly +fall senseless vomiting blood, and perhaps I shall die! And it +will serve Perrin right. He will be furious!” Yes, that is what +<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>I thought. I am at times very foolish. Why? I don’t know +how to explain it, but I admit it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The 6th of August, therefore, I played, in tropical heat, the +part of Zaïre. The entire audience was bathed in perspiration. +I saw the spectators through a mist. The piece, badly staged +as regards scenery, but very well presented as regards costume, +was particularly well played by Mounet-Sully (Orosmane), +Laroche (Néréstan) and myself (Zaïre), and obtained an +immense success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was determined to faint, determined to vomit blood, determined +to die, in order to enrage Perrin. I played with the utmost +passion. I had sobbed, I had loved, I had suffered, and I had been +stabbed by the poignard of Orosmane, uttering a true cry of +suffering, for I had felt the steel penetrate my breast. Then, +falling panting, dying, on the Oriental divan, I had meant to die +in reality, and dared scarcely move my arms, convinced as I was +that I was in my death agony, and somewhat afraid, I must +admit, at having succeeded in playing such a nasty trick on +Perrin. But my surprise was great when the curtain fell at the close +of the piece and I got up quickly to answer to the call and bow +to the audience without languor, without fainting, feeling strong +enough to go through my part again if it had been necessary.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And I marked this performance with a little white stone—for +that day I learned that my vital force was at the service of my +intellectual force. I had desired to follow the impulse of my +brain, whose conceptions seemed to me to be too forceful for my +physical strength to carry out. And I found myself, after +having given out all of which I was capable—and more—in +perfect equilibrium.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then I saw the possibility of the longed-for future.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had fancied, and up to this performance of <cite>Zaïre</cite> I had +always heard and read in the papers that my voice was pretty, +but weak; that my gestures were gracious, but vague; that my +supple movements lacked authority, and that my glance lost +in heavenward contemplation could not tame the wild beasts +(the audience). I thought then of all that.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had received proof that I could rely on my physical +strength, for I had commenced the performance of <cite>Zaïre</cite> in such +a state of weakness that it was easy to predict that I should not +finish the first act without fainting.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>On the other hand, although the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was easy, it required +two or three shrieks, which might have provoked the vomiting +of blood that frequently troubled me at that time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That evening, therefore, I acquired the certainty that I could +count on the strength of my vocal cords, for I had uttered my +shrieks with real rage and suffering, hoping to break something, +in my wild desire to be revenged on Perrin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Thus this little comedy turned to my profit. Being unable +to die at will, I changed my batteries and resolved to be strong, +vivacious, and active, to the great annoyance of some of my +contemporaries, who had only put up with me because they +thought I should soon die, but who began to hate me as soon as +they acquired the conviction that I should perhaps live for a +long time. I will only give one example, related by Alexandre +Dumas <i><span lang="fr">fils</span></i>, who was present at the death of his intimate +friend Charles Narrey, and heard his dying words: “I am +content to die because I shall hear no more of Sarah Bernhardt +and of the grand Français” (Ferdinand de Lesseps).</p> + +<p class='c013'>But this revelation of my strength rendered more painful to +me the sort of <i><span lang="fr">farniente</span></i> to which Perrin condemned me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In fact, after <cite><span lang="fr">Zaïre</span></cite>, I remained months without doing anything +of importance, playing only now and again. Discouraged +and disgusted with the theatre, my passion for sculpture increased. +After my morning ride and a light meal I used to rush +to my studio, where I remained till the evening.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Friends came to see me, sat round me, played the piano, sang; +politics were discussed—for in this modest studio I received +the most illustrious men of all parties. Several ladies came to +take tea, which was abominable and badly served, but I did +not care about that. I was absorbed by this admirable art. +I saw nothing, or, to speak more truly, I <em>would not</em> see anything.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was making the bust of an adorable young girl, Mlle. +Emmy de * * *. Her slow and measured conversation had an +infinite charm. She was a foreigner, but spoke French so perfectly +that I was stupefied. She smoked a cigarette all the +time, and had a profound disdain for those who did not understand +her.</p> +<div id='i256fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i256fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT<br> IN HER COFFIN</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>I made the sittings last as long as possible, for I felt that this +delicate mind was imbuing me with her science of seeing into +the beyond, and often in the serious steps of my life I have said +to myself, “What would Emmy have done? What would she +have thought?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was somewhat surprised one day by the visit of Adolphe de +Rothschild, who came to give me an order for his bust. I +commenced the work immediately. But I had not properly +considered this admirable man—he had nothing of the æsthetic, +but the contrary. I tried nevertheless, and I brought all my +will to bear in order to succeed in this first order, of which I was +so proud. Twice I dashed the bust which I had commenced on +the ground, and after a third attempt I definitely gave up, +stammering idiotic excuses which apparently did not convince +my model, for he never returned to me. When we met in our +morning rides he saluted me with a cold and rather severe bow.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After this defeat I undertook the bust of a beautiful child, +Miss Multon, a delightful little American, whom later on I came +across in Denmark, married and the mother of a family, but +still as pretty as ever.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My next bust was that of Mlle. Hocquigny, that admirable +person who was keeper of the linen in the commissariat during +the war, and who had so powerfully helped me and my wounded +at that time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then I undertook the bust of my young sister Régina, who +had, alas! a weak chest. A more perfect face was never made +by the hand of God! Two leonine eyes shaded by long, long +brown lashes, a slender nose with delicate nostrils, a tiny mouth, +a wilful chin, and a pearly skin crowned by meshes of sunrays, for +I have never seen hair so blonde and so pale, so bright and so +silky. But this admirable face was without charm; the expression +was hard and the mouth without a smile. I tried my best to +reproduce this beautiful face in marble, but it needed a great +artist and I was only a humble amateur.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I exhibited the bust of my little sister, it was five +months after her death, which occurred after a six months’ illness, +full of false hopes. I had taken her to my home, No. 4 +Rue de Rome, to the little <i><span lang="fr">entresol</span></i> which I had inhabited +since the terrible fire which had destroyed my furniture, my +books, my pictures, and all my scant possessions. This flat +in the Rue de Rome was very small. My bedroom was quite +tiny. The big bamboo bed took up all the room. In front of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>the window was my coffin, where I frequently installed myself to +study my parts. Therefore, when I took my sister to my home +I found it quite natural to sleep every night in this little bed of +white satin which was to be my last couch, and to put my sister +in the big bamboo bed, under the lace hangings.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She herself found it quite natural also, for I would not leave +her at night, and it was impossible to put another bed in the +little room. Besides, she was accustomed to my coffin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day my manicurist came into the room to do my hands, +and my sister asked her to enter quietly, because I was still +asleep. The woman turned her head, believing that I was asleep +in the arm-chair, but seeing me in my coffin she rushed away +shrieking wildly. From that moment all Paris knew that I slept +in my coffin, and gossip with its thistle-down wings took flight +in all directions.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was so accustomed to the turpitudes which were written +about me that I did not trouble about this. But at the death +of my poor little sister a tragi-comic incident happened. When +the undertaker’s men came to the room to take away the body +they found themselves confronted with two coffins, and losing his +wits, the master of ceremonies sent in haste for a second hearse. +I was at that moment with my mother, who had lost consciousness, +and I just got back in time to prevent the black-clothed +men taking away my coffin. The second hearse was sent back, +but the papers got hold of this incident. I was blamed, +criticised, &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It really was not my fault.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXIII<br> <span class='large'>A DESCENT INTO THE ENFER DU PLOGOFF—MY FIRST APPEARANCE AS PHÈDRE—THE DECORATION OF MY NEW MANSION</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>After the death of my sister I fell seriously ill. I had +tended her day and night, and this, in addition to the grief I +was suffering, made me anæmic. I was ordered to the South for +two months. I promised to go to Mentone, and I turned +immediately towards Brittany, the country of my dreams.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had with me my little boy, my steward and his wife. My +poor Guérard, who had helped me to tend my sister, was in bed +ill with phlebitis. I would much have liked to have her with +me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, the lovely holiday that we had there! Thirty-five years +ago Brittany was wild, inhospitable, but as beautiful—perhaps +more beautiful than at present, for it was not furrowed with +roads; its green slopes were not dotted with small white villas; +its inhabitants—the men—were not dressed in the abominable +modern trousers, and the women did not wear miserable little hats +with feathers. No! The Bretons proudly displayed their well-shaped +legs in gaiters or rough stockings, their feet shod with +buckled shoes; their long hair was brought down on the temples, +hiding any awkward ears and giving to the face a nobility which +the modern style does not admit of. The women, with their +short skirts, which showed their slender ankles in black stockings, +and with their small heads under the wings of the headdress, +resembled sea-gulls. I am not speaking, of course, of the +inhabitants of Pont l’Abbé or of Bourg de Batz, who have +entirely different aspects.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I visited nearly the whole of Brittany, but made my chief stay +at Finistère. The Pointe du Raz enchanted me. I remained +<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>twelve days at Audierne, in the house of Father Batifoulé, who +was so big and so fat that they had been obliged to cut a piece +out of the table to let in his immense abdomen. I set out every +morning at ten o’clock. My steward Claude himself prepared my +lunch, which he packed up very carefully in three little baskets, +then climbing into the comical vehicle of Father Batifoulé, my +little boy driving, we set out for the Baie des Trépassés. Ah, +that beautiful and mysterious shore, all bristling with rocks! +The lighthouse keeper would be looking out for me, and would +come to meet me. Claude gave him my provisions, with a thousand +recommendations as to the manner of cooking the eggs, +warming up the lentils, and toasting the bread. He carried off +everything, then returned with two old sticks in which he had +stuck nails to make them into picks, and we commenced the +terrifying ascent of the Pointe du Raz, a kind of labyrinth +full of disagreeable surprises, of crevasses across which we had +to jump over the gaping and roaring abyss, of arches and +tunnels through which we had to crawl on all fours, having overhead—touching +us even—a rock which had fallen there in +unknown ages and was only held in equilibrium by some +inexplicable cause. Then all at once the path became so +narrow that it was impossible to walk straight forward; we +had to turn and put our backs against the cliff and advance +with both arms spread out and fingers holding on to the few +asperities of the rock.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I think of what I did in those moments, I tremble, for +I have always been, and still am, subject to dizziness; and I +went over this path along a steep precipitous rock, 30 metres +high, in the midst of the infernal noise of the sea, at this place +eternally furious, and which raged fearfully against this indestructible +cliff. And I must have taken a mad pleasure in it, +for I accomplished this journey five times in eleven days.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After this challenge thrown down to reason we descended, +and installed ourselves in the Baie des Trépassés. After a bath +we had lunch, and I painted till sunset.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The first day there was nobody there. The second day a +child came to look at us. The third day about ten children +stood around asking for sous. I was foolish enough to give them +some, and the following day there were twenty or thirty boys, some +of them from sixteen to eighteen years old. Seeing near my easel +<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>something not particularly agreeable, I begged one of them to +take it away and throw it into the sea, and for that I gave, I +think, fifty centimes. When I came back the following day to +finish my painting the whole population of the neighbouring +village had chosen this place to relieve their corporal necessities, +and as soon as I arrived the same boys, but in increased +numbers, offered, if properly paid, to take away what they had +put there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had the ugly band routed by Claude and the lighthouse +keeper, and as they took to throwing stones at us, I pointed my +gun at the little group. They fled howling. Only two boys, of six +and ten years of age, remained there. We did not take any +notice of them, and I installed myself a little farther on, +sheltered by a rock which kept the wind away. The two boys +followed. Claude and the keeper Lucas were on the look out to +see that the band did not come back.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They were stooping down over the extreme point of the rock +which was above our heads. They seemed peaceful, when +suddenly my young maid jumped up: “Horrors! Madame! Horrors! +They are throwing lice down on us!” And in fact +the two little good-for-nothings had been for the last hour +searching for all the vermin they could find on themselves, and +throwing it on us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had the two little beggars caught, and they got a well-deserved correction.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There was a crevasse which was called the “Enfer du +Plogoff.” I had a wild desire to go down this crevasse, but the +guardian dissuaded me, constantly giving as objections the +danger of slipping, and his fear of responsibility in case of +accident. I persisted nevertheless in my intention, and after a thousand promises, in addition to a certificate to testify that, notwithstanding the supplications of the guardian and the +certainty of the danger that I ran, I had persisted all the same, &c., and after having made a small present of ten louis to the +good fellow, I obtained facilities for descending the Enfer du +Plogoff—that is to say, a wide belt to which a strong rope was +fastened. I buckled this belt round my waist, which was then +so slender—43 centimetres—that it was necessary to make +additional holes in order to fasten it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then the guardian put on each of my hands a wooden shoe +<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>the sole of which was bordered with big nails jutting out two +centimetres. I stared at these wooden shoes, and asked for an +explanation before putting them on.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well,” said the guardian Lucas, “when I let you down, as +you are no fatter than a herring bone, you will get shaken +about in the crevasse, and will risk breaking your bones, while +if you have the ‘sabots’ on your hands you can protect yourself +against the walls by putting out your arms to the right and +the left, according as you are shaken up against them. I do not +say that you will not have a few bangs, but that is your own +fault; you will go. Now listen, my little lady. When you are +at the bottom, on the rock in the middle, mind you don’t slip, +for that is the most dangerous of all; if you fall in the water I +will pull the rope, for sure, but I don’t answer for anything. +In that cursed whirlpool of water you might be caught between +two stones, and it would be no use for me to pull: I should +break the rope, and that would be all.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then the man grew pale and made the sign of the cross; he +leaned towards me, murmuring in a dreamy voice, “It is the +shipwrecked ones who are there under the stones, down there. +It is they who dance in the moonlight on the ‘shore of the +dead.’ It is they who put the slippery seaweed on the +little rock down there, in order to make travellers slip, and then +they drag them to the bottom of the sea.” Then, looking me in +the eyes, he said, “Will you go down all the same?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, certainly, Père Lucas; I will go down at once.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My little boy was building forts and castles on the sand with +Félicie. Only Claude was with me. He did not say a word, +knowing my unbridled desire to meet danger. He looked to see +if the belt was properly fastened, and asked my permission to tie +the tongue of the belt to the belt itself; then he passed a strong cord +several times around to strengthen the leather, and I was let +down, suspended by the rope in the blackness of the crevasse. I +extended my arms to the right and the left, as the guardian had +told me to do, and even then I got my elbows scraped. At first +I thought that the noise I heard was the reverberation of the +echo of the blows of the wooden shoes against the edges of the +crevasse, but suddenly a frightful din filled my ears: successive +firings of cannons, strident ringings, crackings of a whip, +plaintive howls, and repeated monotonous cries as of a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>hundred fishermen drawing up a net filled with fish, seaweed, +and pebbles. All the noises mingled under the mad violence of +the wind. I became furious with myself, for I was really afraid.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The lower I went, the louder the howlings became in my ears +and my brain, and my heart beat the order of retreat. The +wind swept through the narrow tunnel and blew in all directions +round my legs, my body, my neck. A horrible fear took possession +of me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I descended slowly, and at each little shock I felt that the +four hands holding me above had come to a knot. I tried to +remember the number of knots, for it seemed to me that I was +making no progress.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then I opened my mouth to call out, “Draw me up!” but +the wind, which danced in mad folly around me, filled my mouth +and drove back the words. I was nearly suffocated. Then I +shut my eyes and ceased to struggle. I would not even put out +my arms. A few instants after I pulled up my legs in unspeakable +terror. The sea had just seized them in a brutal embrace +which had wet me through. However, I recovered courage, for +now I could see clearly. I stretched out my legs, and found myself +upright on the little rock. It is true it was very slippery.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took hold of a large ring fixed in the vault which overhung +the rock, and I looked round. The long and narrow crevasse +grew suddenly wider at its base, and terminated in a large grotto +which looked out over the open sea; but the entrance of this +grotto was protected by a quantity of both large and small +rocks, which could be seen for a distance of a league in front +on the surface of the water—which explains the terrible noise of +the sea dashing into the labyrinth and the possibility of standing +upright on a stone, as the Bretons say, with the wild dance +of the waves all around.</p> + +<p class='c013'>However, I saw very plainly that a false step might be fatal +in the brutal whirl of waters, which came rushing in from afar +with dizzy speed and broke against the insurmountable obstacle, +and in receding dashed against other waves which followed them. +From this cause proceeded the perpetual fusillade of waters +which rushed into the crevasse without danger of drowning me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It now began to grow dark, and I experienced a fearful anguish +in discovering on the crest of a little rock two enormous eyes, +which looked fixedly at me. Then a little farther, near a tuft of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>seaweed, two more of these fixed eyes. I saw no body to these +beings—nothing but the eyes. I thought for a minute that I +was losing my senses, and I bit my tongue till the blood came; +then I pulled violently at the rope, as I had agreed to do in +order to give the signal for being drawn up. I felt the trembling +joy of the four hands pulling me, and my feet lost their hold as I +was hauled up by my guardians. The eyes were lifted up also, +uneasy at seeing me depart. And while I mounted through the +air I saw nothing but eyes everywhere—eyes throwing out long +feelers to reach me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had never seen an octopus, and I did not even know of the +existence of these horrible beasts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>During the ascent, which appeared to me interminable, +I imagined I saw these beasts along the walls, and my teeth +were chattering when I was drawn out on to the green hillock.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I immediately told the guardian the cause of my terror, and +he crossed himself, saying, “Those are the eyes of the shipwrecked +ones. No one must stay there!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I knew very well that they were not the eyes of shipwrecked +ones, but I did not know what they were. For I thought I had +seen some strange beasts that no one had ever seen before.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was only at the hotel with Père Batifoulé that I learnt +about the octopus.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Only five more days’ holiday were left to me, and I passed +them at the Pointe du Raz, seated in a niche of rock which has +been since named “Sarah Bernhardt’s Arm-chair.” Many tourists +have sat there since.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After my holiday I returned to Paris. But I was still very +weak, and could only take up my work towards the month of +November. I played all the pieces of my <i><span lang="fr">répertoire</span></i>, and I was +annoyed at not having any new <i><span lang="fr">rôles</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day Perrin came to see me in my sculptor’s studio. He +began to talk at first about my busts; he told me that I ought +to do his medallion, and asked me incidentally if I knew the +<i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Phèdre. Up to that time I had only played Aricie, and +the part of Phèdre seemed formidable to me. I had, however, +studied it for my own pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, I know the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Phèdre. But I think if ever I had +to play it I should die of fright.”</p> +<div id='i264fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i264fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>A CORNER OF THE LIBRARY</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>He laughed with his silly little laugh, and said to me, squeezing my hand (for he was very gallant), “Work it up. I think +that you will play it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>In fact, eight days after I was called to the manager’s office, +and Perrin told me that he had announced <cite>Phèdre</cite> for December +21, the <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> of Racine, with Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt in +the part of Phèdre. I thought I should have fallen.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, but what about Mademoiselle Rousseil?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Mademoiselle Rousseil wants the committee to promise that +she shall become a Sociétaire in the month of January, and the +committee, which will without doubt appoint her, refuses to +make this promise, and declares that her demand is like a threat. +But perhaps Mademoiselle Rousseil will change her plans, and +in that case you will play Aricie and I will change the bill.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Coming out from Perrin’s I ran up against M. Régnier. +I told him of my conversation with the manager and of my +fears.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no,” said the great artiste to me, “you must not be +afraid! I see very well what you are going to make of this <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>. +But all you have to do is to be careful and not force your voice. +Make the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> rather more sorrowful than furious—it will be +better for every one, even Racine.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then, joining my hands, I said, “Dear Monsieur Régnier, +help me to work up Phèdre, and I shall not be so much afraid!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He looked at me rather surprised, for in general I was neither +docile nor apt to be guided by advice. I own that I was wrong, +but I could not help it. But the responsibility which this put +upon me made me timid. Régnier accepted, and made an +appointment with me for the following morning at nine o’clock.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Roselia Rousseil persisted in her demand to the committee, +and <cite>Phèdre</cite> was billed for December 21, with Mlle. Sarah +Bernhardt for the first time in the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Phèdre.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This caused quite a sensation in the artistic world and in +theatrical circles. That evening over two hundred people were +turned away at the box office. When I was informed of the +fact I began to tremble a good deal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Régnier comforted me as best he could, saying, “Courage! +Cheer up! Are you not the spoiled darling of the public? +They will take into consideration your inexperience in important +leading parts,” &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>These were the last words he should have said to me. I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>should have felt stronger if I had known that the public were +come to oppose and not to encourage me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began to cry bitterly like a child. Perrin was called, and +consoled me as well as he could; then he made me laugh by +putting powder on my face so awkwardly that I was blinded and +suffocated.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Everybody on the stage knew about it, and stood at the door +of my dressing-room wishing to comfort me. Mounet-Sully, who +was playing Hippolyte, told me that he had dreamed “we were +playing <cite>Phèdre</cite>, and you were hissed; and my dreams always go +by contraries—so,” he cried, “we shall have a tremendous +success.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But what put me completely in a good humour was the arrival +of the worthy Martel, who was playing Théramène, and who had +come so quickly, believing me to be ill, that he had not had time +to finish his nose. The sight of this grey face, with a wide bar +of red wax commencing between the two eyebrows, coming down +to half a centimetre below his nose and leaving behind it the end +of the nose with two large black nostrils—this face was indescribable! +And everybody laughed irrepressibly. I knew +that Martel made up his nose, for I had already seen this poor +nose change shape at the second performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Zaïre</span></cite>, under the +tropical depression of the atmosphere, but I had never realised +how much he lengthened it. This comical apparition restored +all my gaiety, and from thenceforth I was in full possession of +my faculties.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The evening was one long triumph for me. And the Press +was unanimous in praise, with the exception of the article of +Paul de St. Victor, who was on very good terms with a sister of +Rachel, and could not get over “my impertinent presumption in +daring to measure myself with the great dead artiste.” These +are his own words addressed to Girardin, who immediately communicated +them to me. How mistaken he was, poor St. Victor! +I had never seen Rachel, but I worshipped her talent, for I had +surrounded myself with her most devoted admirers, and they little +thought of comparing me with their idol.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few days after this performance of <cite>Phèdre</cite> the new piece of +Bornier was read to us—<cite><span lang="fr">La Fille de Roland</span></cite>. The part of Berthe +was confided to me, and we immediately began the rehearsals of +this fine piece, the verses of which were nevertheless a little flat, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>though the play rang with patriotism. There was in one act a +terrible duel, not seen by the public, but related by Berthe, the +daughter of Roland, while the incidents happened under the eyes +of the unhappy girl, who from a window of the castle followed +in anguish the fortunes of the encounter. This scene was the +only important one of my much-sacrificed <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The play was ready to be performed, when Bornier asked that +his friend Emile Augier might attend the dress rehearsal. +When this rehearsal was over Perrin came to me; he had an +affectionate and constrained air. As to Bornier, he came straight +to me in a decided and quarrelsome manner. Emile Augier followed +him. “Well——” he said to me. I looked straight at +him, feeling at the moment that he was my enemy. He stopped +short and scratched his head, then turned towards Augier and +said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I beg you, <i><span lang="fr">cher maître</span></i>, explain to Mademoiselle yourself.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Emile Augier was a broad man, with wide shoulders and a +common appearance, and was at that time rather stout. He was +in very good repute at the Théâtre Français, of which he was +at that epoch the successful author. He came near me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You managed the part at the window very well, Mademoiselle, +but it is ridiculous; it is not your fault, but that of the author, +who has written a most improbable scene. The public would +laugh immoderately. This scene must be taken out.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I turned towards Perrin, who was listening silently. “Are +you of the same opinion, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I talked it over a short time ago with these gentlemen, but +the author is master to do as he pleases with his work.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then, addressing myself to Bornier, I said, “Well, my dear +author, what have you decided?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Little Bornier looked at big Emile Augier. There was in this +beseeching and piteous glance an expression of sorrow at having +to cut out a scene which he prized, and of fear at vexing an +Academician just at the time when he was hoping to become a +member of the Academy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Cut it out, cut it out—or you are done for!” brutally replied +Augier, and he turned his back. Then poor Bornier, who +resembled a Breton gnome, came up to me. He scratched +himself desperately, for the unfortunate man suffered from a +distressing skin disease. He did not speak. He looked at us +<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>searchingly. Poignant anxiety was expressed on his face. Perrin, +who had come up to me, guessed the private little drama which +was taking place in the heart of the mild Bornier.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Refuse energetically,” murmured Perrin to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I understood, and declared firmly to Bornier that if this scene +were cut out I should refuse the part. Then Bornier seized +both my hands, which he kissed ardently, and running up to +Augier he exclaimed, with comic emphasis:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But I cannot cut it out—I cannot cut it out! She will not +play! And the day after to-morrow the play is to be performed.” +Then, as Emile Augier made a gesture and would +have spoken: “No! No! To put back my play eight days +would be to kill it! I cannot cut it out! Oh, mon Dieu!” +And he cried and gesticulated with his two long arms, and he +stamped with his short legs. His large hairy head went from +right to left. He was at the same time funny and pitiable. +Emile Augier was irritated, and turned on me like a hunted +boar on a pursuing dog:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you take the responsibility, Mademoiselle, of the +absurd window scene on the first performance?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Certainly, Monsieur; and I even promise to make of this +scene, which I find very beautiful, an enormous success!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He shrugged his shoulders rudely, muttering something +very disagreeable between his teeth.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I left the theatre I found poor Bornier quite transfigured. +He thanked me a thousand times, for he thought very highly of +this scene, and he dared not thwart Emile Augier. Both Perrin +and myself had divined the legitimate emotions of this poor +poet, so gentle and so well bred, but a trifle Jesuitical.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The play was an immense success. But the window scene on +the first night was a veritable triumph.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was a short time after the terrible war of 1870. The play +contained frequent allusions to it, and owing to the patriotism +of the public made an even greater success than it deserved as a +play. I sent for Emile Augier. He came to my dressing-room +with a surly air, and said to me from the door:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“So much the worse for the public! It only proves that +the public is idiotic to make a success of such vileness!” +And he disappeared without having even entered my dressing-room.</p> +<div id='i268fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i268fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>LIBRARY IN SARAH BERNHARDT’S HOUSE, PARIS</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>His outburst made me laugh, and as the triumphant Bornier +had embraced me repeatedly, I scratched myself all over.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two months later I played <cite><span lang="fr">Gabrielle</span></cite>, by this same Augier, +and I had incessant quarrels with him. I found the verses of +this play execrable. Coquelin, who took the part of my +husband, made a great success. As for me, I was as mediocre +as the play itself, which is saying a great deal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had been appointed a Sociétaire in the month of January, +and since then it seemed to me that I was in prison, for I had +undertaken an engagement not to leave the House of Molière +for many years. This idea made me sad. It was at Perrin’s +instigation that I had asked to become a Sociétaire, and now I +regretted it very much.</p> + +<p class='c013'>During all the latter part of the year I only played occasionally.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My time was then occupied in looking after the building of a +pretty little mansion which I was having erected at the corner of +the Avenue de Villiers and the Rue Fortuny. A sister of my +grandmother had left me in her will a nice legacy, which I used +to buy the ground. My great desire was to have a house that +should be entirely my own, and I was then realising it. The +son-in-law of M. Régnier, Félix Escalier, a fashionable architect, +was building me a charming place. Nothing amused +me more than to go with him in the morning over the unfinished +house. Afterwards I mounted the movable scaffolds. Then +I went on the roofs. I forgot my worries of the theatre in this +new occupation. The thing I most desired just then was to +become an architect. When the building was finished, the +interior had to be thought of. I spent much time in helping +my painter friends who were decorating the ceilings in my bedroom, +in my dining-room, in my hall: Georges Clairin; the +architect Escalier, who was also a talented painter; Duez, +Picard, Butin, Jadin, and Parrot. I was deeply interested. +And I recollect a joke which I played on one of my relations.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt Betsy had come from Holland, her native country, +in order to spend a few days in Paris. She was staying with my +mother. I invited her to lunch in my new unfinished habitation. +Five of my painter friends were working, some in one room, +some in another, and everywhere lofty scaffoldings were erected. +In order to be able to climb the ladders more easily I was +wearing my sculptor’s costume. My aunt, seeing me thus +<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>arrayed, was horribly shocked, and told me so. But I was preparing +yet another surprise for her. She thought these young +workers were ordinary house-painters, and considered I was too +familiar with them. But she nearly fainted when mid-day came +and I rushed to the piano to play “The Complaint of the +Hungry Stomachs.” This wild melody had been improvised by +the group of painters, but revised and corrected by poet friends. +Here it is:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Oh! Peintres de la Dam’ jolie,</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">De vos pinceaux arrêtez la folie!</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Il faut descendr’ des escabeaux,</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Vous nettoyer et vous faire très beaux!</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">Digue, dingue, donne!</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">L’heure sonne.</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">Digue, dingue, di....</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">C’est midi!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Sur les grils et dans les cass’roles</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Sautent le veau, et les œufs et les soles.</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Le bon vin rouge et l’Saint-Marceaux</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Feront gaiment galoper nos pinceaux!</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">Digue, dingue, donne!</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">L’heure sonne.</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">Digue, dingue, di....</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">C’est midi!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Voici vos peintres, Dam’ jolie</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Qui vont pour vous débiter leur folie.</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Ils ont tous lâché l’escabeau</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="fr">Sont frais, sont fiers, sont propres et très beaux!</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">Digue, dingue, donne</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">L’heure sonne.</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">Digue, dingue, di....</span></div> + <div class='line in6'><span lang="fr">C’est midi.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>When the song was finished I went into my bedroom and made +myself into a <i><span lang="fr">belle dame</span></i> for lunch.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My aunt had followed me. “But, my dear,” said she, “you +are mad to think I am going to eat with all these workmen. +Certainly in all Paris there is no one but yourself who would do +such a thing.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, no, Aunt; it is all right.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And I dragged her off, when I was dressed, to the dining-room, +which was the most habitable room of the house. Five +<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>young men solemnly bowed to my aunt, who did not recognise +them at first, for they had changed their working clothes and +looked like five nice young society swells. Madame Guérard +lunched with us. Suddenly in the middle of lunch my aunt +cried out, “But these are the workmen!” The five young men +rose and bowed low. Then my poor aunt understood her mistake +and excused herself in every possible manner, so confused was +she.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXIV<br> <span class='large'>ALEXANDRE DUMAS—L’ETRANGÈRE—MY SCULPTURE AT THE SALON</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>One day Alexandre Dumas, junior, was announced. He came +to bring me the good news that he had finished his play for the +Comédie Française, <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, and that my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, the Duchesse +de Septmonts, had come out very well. “You can,” he said to +me, “make a fine success out of it.” I expressed my gratitude +to him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A month after this visit we were requested to attend the +reading of this piece at the Comédie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The reading was a great success, and I was delighted with my +<i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, Catherine de Septmonts. I also liked the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Croizette, +Mrs. Clarkson.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Got gave us each copies of our parts, and thinking that he +had made a mistake, I passed on to Croizette the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of +l’Etrangère which he had just given me, saying to her, “Here, +Got has made a mistake—here is your <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But he is not making any mistake. It is I who am to play +the Duchesse de Septmonts.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I burst out into irrepressible laughter, which surprised everybody +present, and when Perrin, annoyed, asked me at whom I +was laughing like that, I exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“At all of you—you, Dumas, Got, Croizette, and all of you +who are in the plot, and who are all a little afraid of the result +of your cowardice. Well, you need not alarm yourselves. I +was delighted to play the Duchesse de Septmonts, but I shall be +ten times more delighted to play l’Etrangère. And this time, +my dear Sophie, I’ll be quits with you; no ceremony, I tell you; +for you have played me a little trick which was quite unworthy +of our friendship!”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>The rehearsals were strained on all sides. Perrin, who was a +warm partisan of Croizette, bewailed the want of suppleness of +her talent, so much so that one day Croizette, losing all patience, +burst out:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, Monsieur, you should have left the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> to Sarah; +she would have played it with the voice you wish in the love +scenes; I cannot do any better. You irritate me too much: I +have had enough of it!” And she ran off, sobbing, into the +little <i><span lang="fr">guignol</span></i>, where she had an attack of hysteria.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I followed her and consoled her as well as I could. And in +the midst of her tears she kissed me, murmuring, “It is true. It +is they who instigated me to play this nasty trick, and now they +are annoying me.” Croizette used vulgar expressions, very vulgar +ones, and at times uttered many a Gallic joke.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That day we made up our quarrel entirely.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A week before the first performance I received an anonymous +letter informing me that Perrin was trying his very best to get +Dumas to change the name of the play. He wished—it goes +without saying—to have the piece called <cite><span lang="fr">La Duchesse de +Septmonts</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I rushed off to the theatre to find Perrin at once.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the entrance door I met Coquelin, who was playing the +part of the Duc de Septmonts, which he did marvellously well. +I showed him the letter. He shrugged his shoulders. “It is +infamous! But why do you take any notice of an anonymous +letter? It is not worthy of you!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were talking at the foot of the staircase when the manager +arrived.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here, show the letter to Perrin!” And he took it from my +hands in order to show it to him. Perrin blushed slightly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I know this writing,” he said. “Some one from the theatre +has written this letter.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I snatched it back from him. “Then it is some one who is +well informed, and what he says is perhaps true. Is it not so? +Tell me. I have the right to know.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I detest anonymous letters.” And he went up the stairs, +bowing slightly, but without saying anything further.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, if it is true,” said Coquelin, “it is too much. Would +you like me to go and see Dumas, and I will get to know at +once?”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>“No, thank you. But you have put an idea into my head. +I’ll go there.” And shaking hands with him, I went off to see +the younger Dumas. He was just going out.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, well? What is the matter? Your eyes are +blazing!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went with him into the drawing-room and asked my question +at once. He had kept his hat on, and took it off to recover +his self-possession. And before he could speak a word I got +furiously angry; I fell into one of those rages which I sometimes +have, and which are more like attacks of madness. And in fact, +all that I felt of bitterness towards this man, towards Perrin, +towards all this theatrical world that should have loved me and +upheld me, but which betrayed me on every occasion—all the +hot anger that I had been accumulating during the rehearsals, the +cries of revolt against the perpetual injustice of these two men, +Perrin and Dumas—I burst out with everything in an avalanche +of stinging words which were both furious and sincere. I +reminded him of his promise made in former days; of his visit +to my hotel in the Avenue de Villiers; of the cowardly and +underhand manner in which he had sacrificed me, at Perrin’s +request and on the wishes of the friends of Sophie. I +spoke vehemently, without allowing him to edge in a single +word. And when, worn out, I was forced to stop, I murmured, +out of breath with fatigue, “What—what—what have you +to say for yourself?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My dear child,” he replied, much touched, “if I had +examined my own conscience I should have said to myself all +that you have just said to me so eloquently! But I can truly +say, in order to excuse myself a little, that I really believed that +you did not care at all about the stage; that you much +preferred your sculpture, your painting, and your court. We +have seldom talked together, and people led me to believe +all that I was perhaps too ready to believe. Your grief and +anger have touched me deeply. I give you my word that +the play shall keep its title of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>. And now embrace +me with good grace, to show that you are no longer angry +with me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I embraced him, and from that day we were good friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That evening I told the whole tale to Croizette, and I saw +that she knew nothing about this wicked scheme. I was very +<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>pleased to know that. The play was very successful. Coquelin, +Febvre, and I carried off the laurels of the day.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had just commenced in my studio in the Avenue de Clichy +a large group, the inspiration for which I had gathered from the +sad history of an old woman whom I often saw at nightfall in +the Baie des Trépassés.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day I went up to her, wishing to speak to her, but I was +so terrified by her aspect of madness that I rushed off at once, +and the guardian told me her history.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was the mother of five sons, all sailors. Two had been +killed by the Germans in 1870, and three had been drowned. +She had brought up the little son of her youngest boy, always +keeping him far from the sea and teaching him to hate the +water. She had never left the little lad, but he became so sad +that he was really ill, and he said he was dying because he +wanted to see the sea. “Well, make haste and get well,” said +the grandmother tenderly, “and we will go to see it together.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two days later the child was better, and the grandmother left +the valley in the company of her little grandson to go and see +the ocean, the grave of her three sons.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was a November day; a low sky hung over the ocean, +narrowing the horizon. The child jumped with joy. He ran, +gambolled, and sang for happiness when he saw all this living +water.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The grandmother sat on the sand, and hid her tearful eyes in +her two trembling hands; then suddenly, struck by the silence, +she looked up in terror. There in front of her she saw a boat +drifting, and in the boat her boy, her little lad of eight years +old, who was laughing right merrily, paddling as well as he could +with one oar that he could hardly hold, and crying out, “I am +going to see what there is behind the mist, and I will come +back.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He never came back. And the following day they found the +poor old woman talking low to the waves which came and +bathed her feet. She came every day to the water’s edge, +throwing in the bread which kind folks gave her, and saying to +the waves, “You must carry that to the little lad.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This touching narrative had remained in my memory. I can +still see the tall old woman, with her brown cape and hood.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I worked feverishly at this group. It seemed to me now that I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>was destined to be a sculptor, and I began to despise the stage. +I only went to the theatre when I was compelled by my duties, +and I left as soon as possible.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had made several designs, none of which pleased me. Just +when I was going to throw down the last one in discouragement, +the painter Georges Clairin, who came in just at that moment +to see me, begged me not to do so. And my good friend +Mathieu Meusnier, who was a man of talent, also added his +voice against the destruction of my design.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Excited by their encouragement, I decided to hurry on with the +work and to make a large group. I asked Meusnier if he knew +any tall, bony old woman, and he sent me two, neither of whom +suited me. Then I asked all my painter and sculptor friends, +and during eight days all sorts of old and infirm women came +for my inspection. I fixed at last on a charwoman who was +about sixty years old. She was very tall, and had very sharp-cut +features. When she came in I felt a slight sentiment of +fear. The idea of remaining alone with this female <i><span lang="fr">gendarme</span></i> +for hours together made me feel uneasy. But when I heard her +speak I was more comfortable. Her timid, gentle voice and +frightened gestures, like a shy young girl, contrasted strangely +with the build of the poor woman. When I showed her the design +she was stupefied. “Do you want me to have my neck and +shoulders bare? I really cannot.” I told her that nobody +ever came in when I worked, and I asked to see her neck +immediately.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that neck! I clapped my hands with joy when I saw it. +It was long, emaciated, terrible. The bones literally stood +out almost bare of flesh; the sterno-cleido-mastoid was +remarkable—it was just what I wanted. I went up to her and +gently bared her shoulder. What a treasure I had found! +The shoulder bone was visible under the skin, and she had two +immense “salt-cellars”! The woman was ideal for my work. +She seemed destined for it. She blushed when I told her so. I +asked to see her feet. She took off her thick boots and showed +a dirty foot which had no character. “No,” I said, “thank +you. Your feet are too small; I will take only your head and +shoulders.”</p> +<div id='i276fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i276fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AT HOME<br> <em>From the painting by Walter Spindler</em></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>After having fixed the price I engaged her for three months. +At the idea of earning so much money for three months the poor +woman began to cry, and I felt so sorry for her that I told her +she would not have to seek for work that winter, because she +had already told me that she generally spent six months of the +year in the country, in Sologne, near her grandchildren.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Having found the grandmother, I now needed the child.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I passed a review of a whole army of professional Italian +models. There were some lovely children, real little Jupins. +The mothers undressed their children in a second, and the +children posed quite naturally and took attitudes which showed +off their muscles and the development of the torso. I chose a +fine little boy of seven years old, but who looked more like nine. +I had already had in the workmen, who had followed out my +design and put up the scaffolding necessary to make my work +sufficiently stable and to support the weight. Enormous iron +supports were fixed into the plaster by bolts and pillars of wood +and iron wherever necessary. The skeleton of a large piece of +sculpture looks like a giant trap put up to catch rats and mice +by the thousand.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I gave myself up to this enormous work with the courage of +ignorance. Nothing discouraged me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Often I worked on till midnight, sometimes till four o’clock in +the morning. And as one humble gas-burner was totally +insufficient to work by, I had a crown or rather a silver circlet +made, each bud of which was a candlestick, and each had its +candle burning, and those of the back row were a little higher +than those of the front. And with this help I was able to work +almost without ceasing. I had no watch or clock in the room, +as I wished to ignore time altogether, except on the days I had +to perform at the theatre. Then my maid would come and call +for me. How many times have I gone without lunch or dinner. +Then I would perhaps faint, and so be compelled to send for +something to eat to restore my strength.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had almost finished my group, but I had done neither the +feet nor the hands of the grandmother. She was holding her +little dead grandson on her knees, but her arms had no hands +and her legs had no feet. I looked in vain for the hands and +feet of my ideal, large and bony. One day, when my friend +Martel came to see me at my studio and to look at this group, +which was much talked of, I had an inspiration. Martel was big, +and thin enough to make Death jealous. I watched him walking +<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>round my work. He was looking at it as a <i><span lang="fr">connoisseur</span></i>. But +I was looking at <em>him</em>. Suddenly I said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My dear Martel, I beg you—I beseech you—to pose for +the hands and feet of my grandmother!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He burst out laughing, and with perfectly good grace he took +off his shoes and took the place of my model.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He came ten days in succession, and gave me three hours each +day.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Thanks to him, I was able to finish my group. I had it +moulded and sent to the Salon (1876), where it met with genuine +success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Is there any need to say that I was accused of having got +some one else to make this group for me? I sent a summons to +one critic. He was no other than Jules Claretie, who had +declared that this work, which was very interesting, could not +have been done by me. Jules Claretie apologised very politely, +and that was the end of it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Jury, after a full investigation, awarded me an +“honourable mention,” and I was wild with joy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was very much criticised, but also very much praised. +Nearly all the criticisms referred to the neck of my old Breton +woman, that neck on which I had worked with such eagerness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following is from an article by René Delorme:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The work of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt deserves to be studied +in detail. The head of the grandmother, well worked out as to +the profound wrinkles it bears, expresses that intense sorrow in +which everything else counts as nothing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The only reproach I have to make against this artist is that +she has brought too much into prominence the muscles of the +neck of the old grandmother. This shows a lack of experience. +She is pleased with herself for having studied anatomy so well, +and is not sorry for the opportunity of showing it. It is,” &c. +&c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Certainly this gentleman was right. I had studied anatomy +eagerly and in a very amusing manner. I had had lessons from +Doctor Parrot, who was so good to me. I had continually with +me a book of anatomical designs, and when I was at home I stood +before the glass and said suddenly to myself, putting my finger +on some part of my body, “Now then, what is that?” I had to +answer immediately, without hesitation, and when I hesitated I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>compelled myself to learn by heart the muscles of the head or +the arm, and did not sleep till this was done.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A month after the exhibition there was a reading of Parodi’s +play, <cite><span lang="fr">Rome Vaincue</span></cite>, at the Comédie Française. I refused the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> +of the young vestal Opimia, which had been allotted to me, and +energetically demanded that of Posthumia, an old, blind Roman +woman with a superb and noble face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>No doubt there was some connection in my mind between my +old Breton weeping over her grandson and the august patrician +claiming forgiveness for her grand-daughter.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin was at first astounded. Afterwards he acceded to my +request. But his order-loving mind and his taste for symmetry +made him anxious about Mounet-Sully, who was also playing in +the piece. He was accustomed to seeing Mounet-Sully and me +playing the two heroes, the two lovers, the two victims. How +was he to arrange matters so that we should still be the two——something or other? <em>Eureka!</em> There was in the play an old +idiot named Vestæpor, who was quite unnecessary for the action +of the piece, but had been brought in to satisfy Perrin. +“Eureka!” cried the director of the Comédie; “Mounet-Sully +shall play Vestæpor!” Equilibrium was restored. The god +of the <i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> was content.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The piece, which was really quite mediocre, obtained a great +success at the first performance (September 27, 1876), and personally +I was very successful in the fourth act. The public was +decidedly in my favour, in spite of everything and everybody.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXV<br> <span class='large'>“HERNANI”—A TRIP IN A BALLOON</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The performances of <cite>Hernani</cite> made me a still greater favourite +with the public.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had already rehearsed with Victor Hugo, and it was a real +pleasure to me to see the great poet almost each day. I had +never discontinued my visits, but I was never able to have any +conversation with him in his own house. There were always men +in red ties gesticulating, or women in tears reciting. He was +very good; he used to listen with half-closed eyes, and I thought +he was asleep. Then, roused by the silence, he would say a +consoling word, for Victor Hugo could not promise without +keeping his word. He was not like me: I promise everything +with the firm intention of keeping my promises, and two +hours after I have forgotten all about them. If any one reminds +me of what I have promised, I tear my hair, and to make up +for my forgetfulness I say anything, I buy presents—in fact, I +complicate my life with useless worries. It has always been +thus, and always will be so.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As was I grumbling one day to Victor Hugo that I never could +have a chance of talking with him, he invited me to lunch, saying +that after lunch we could talk together alone. I was delighted +with this lunch, to which Paul Meurice, the poet Léon Cladel, +the Communard Dupuis, a Russian lady whose name I do not +remember and Gustave Doré were also invited. In front of +Victor Hugo sat Madame Drouet, the friend of his unlucky days.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But what a horrible lunch we had! It was really bad and +badly served. My feet were frozen by the draughts from the +three doors, which fitted badly, and one could positively <em>hear</em> +the wind blowing under the table. Near me was Mr. X., a +German socialist, who is to-day a very successful man. This +<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>man had such dirty hands and ate in such a way that he made +me feel sick. I met him afterwards at Berlin. He is now quite +clean and proper, and, I believe, an imperialist. But the uncomfortable +feeling this uncongenial neighbour inspired in me, +the cold draughts blowing on my feet, mortal boredom—all +this reduced me to a state of positive suffering, and I lost +consciousness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I recovered I found myself on a couch, my hand in that +of Madame Drouet, and in front of me, sketching me, Gustave +Doré.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, don’t move,” he exclaimed; “you are so pretty like that!” +These words, though they were so inappropriate, pleased me +nevertheless, and I complied with the wish of the great artist, +who was one of my friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left the house of Victor Hugo without saying good-bye to +him, a trifle ashamed of myself.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day he came to see me. I told him some tale to +account for my illness, and I saw no more of him except at the +rehearsals of <cite>Hernani</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The first performance of <cite>Hernani</cite> took place on November 21, +1877. It was a triumph alike for the author and the actors. +<cite>Hernani</cite> had already been played ten years earlier, but Delaunay, +who then took the part of Hernani, was the exact contrary of +what this part should have been. He was neither epic, romantic, +nor poetic. He had not the style of those grand epic poems. +He was charming, graceful, and wore a perpetual smile; of +middle height, with studied movements, he was ideal in Musset, +perfect in Emile Augier, charming in Molière, but execrable in +Victor Hugo.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Bressant, who took the part of Charles Quint, was shockingly +bad. His amiable and flabby style and his weak and wandering +eyes effectively prevented all grandeur. His two enormous feet, +generally half hidden under his trousers, assumed immense proportions. +I could see nothing else. They were very large, flat, +and slightly turned in at the toes. They were a nightmare! +But think of their possessor repeating the admirable couplet of +Charles Quint to the shade of Charlemagne! It was absurd! +The public coughed, wriggled, and showed that they found the +whole thing painful and ridiculous.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In our performance it was Mounet-Sully, in all the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>splendour of his talent, who played Hernani. And it was +Worms, that admirable artiste, who played Charles Quint—and +how well he took the part! How he rolled out the lines! +What a splendid diction he had! This performance of November +21, 1877, was a triumph. I came in for a good share in +the general success. I played Dona Sol. Victor Hugo sent me +the following letter:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Madame</span>,—You have been great and charming; you have +moved me—me, the old combatant—and at one moment, while +the public whom you had enchanted cheered you, I wept. +This tear which you caused me to shed is yours, and I place +myself at your feet.</p> +<div class='c021'>“<span class='sc'>Victor Hugo.</span>”</div> + +<p class='c013'>With this letter came a small box containing a fine chain +bracelet, from which hung one diamond drop. I lost this +bracelet at the house of the rich nabob, Alfred Sassoon. He +wanted to give me another, but I refused. He could not give +me back the tear of Victor Hugo.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My success at the Comédie was assured, and the public +treated me as a spoiled child. My comrades were a little jealous +of me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin made trouble for me at every turn. He had a sort of +friendship for me, but he would not believe that I could get on +without him, and as he always refused to do as I wanted, I did +not go to him for anything. I used to send a letter to the +Ministry, and I always won my cause.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I had a continual thirst for what was new, I now tried my +hand at painting. I knew how to draw a little, and had a well-developed sense of colour. I first did two or three small +pictures, then I undertook the portrait of my dear Guérard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Alfred Stevens thought it was vigorously done, and Georges +Clairin encouraged me to continue with painting. Then I +launched out courageously, boldly. I began a picture which +was nearly two metres in size, <cite>The Young Girl and Death</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then came a cry of indignation against me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Why did I want to do anything else but act, since that was +my career?</p> + +<p class='c013'>Why did I always want to be before the public?</p> +<div id='i282fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i282fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AS DONA SOL<br> IN <cite>HERNANI</cite></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>Perrin came to see me one day when I was very ill. He began +to preach. “You are killing yourself, my dear child,” he said. +“Why do you go in for sculpture, painting, &c.? Is it to prove +that you can do it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, no, no,” I answered; “it is merely to create a necessity +for staying here.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I don’t understand,” said Perrin, listening very attentively.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“This is how it is. I have a wild desire to travel, to see +something else, to breathe another air, and to see skies that are +higher than ours and trees that are bigger—something different, +in short. I have therefore had to create for myself some tasks +which will hold me to my chains. If I did not do this, I feel +that my desire to see other things in the world would win the +day, and I should do something foolish.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This conversation was destined to go against me some years +later, when the Comédie brought a law-suit against me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Exhibition of 1878 put the finishing stroke to the state of +exasperation that Perrin and some of the artistes of the theatre +had conceived against me. They blamed me for everything—for +my painting, my sculpture, and my health. I had a terrible +scene with Perrin, and it was the last one, for from that time +forth we did not speak to each other again; a formal bow was +the most that we exchanged afterwards.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The climax was reached over my balloon ascension. I adored +and I still adore balloons. Every day I went up in M. Giffard’s +captive balloon. This persistency had struck the <i><span lang="fr">savant</span></i>, and he +asked a mutual friend to introduce him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Monsieur Giffard,” I said, “how I should like to go up +in a balloon that is not captive!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, Mademoiselle, you shall do so if you like,” he replied +very kindly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“When?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Any day you like.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I should have liked to start immediately, but, as he pointed +out, he would have to fit the balloon up, and it was a great +responsibility for him to undertake. We therefore fixed upon +the following Tuesday, just a week from then. I asked +M. Giffard to say nothing about it, for if the newspapers +should get hold of this piece of news my terrified family would +not allow me to go. M. Tissandier, who a little time after was +doomed, poor fellow, to be killed in a balloon accident, promised +<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>to accompany me. Something happened, however, to prevent +his going with me, and it was young Godard who the following +week accompanied me in the “Dona Sol,” a beautiful orange-coloured +balloon specially prepared for my expedition. Prince +Jerome Napoleon (Plon-Plon), who was with me when Giffard +was introduced, insisted on going with us. But he was heavy +and rather clumsy, and I did not care much about his conversation, +in spite of his marvellous wit, for he was spiteful, and +rather delighted when he could get a chance to attack the +Emperor Napoleon III., whom I liked very much.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We started alone, Georges Clairin, Godard, and I. The +rumour of our journey had spread, but too late for the Press +to get hold of the news. I had been up in the air about five +minutes when one of my friends, Comte de M——, met Perrin on +the Saints-Pères Bridge.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I say,” he began, “look up in the sky. There is your star +shooting away.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin gazed up, and, pointing to the balloon which was rising, +he asked, “Who is in that?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Sarah Bernhardt,” replied my friend. Perrin, it appears, +turned purple, and, clenching his teeth, he murmured, “That’s +another of her freaks, but she will pay for this.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He hurried away without even saying good-bye to my young +friend, who stood there stupefied at this unreasonable burst of +anger.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And if he had suspected my infinite joy at thus travelling +through the air, Perrin would have suffered still more.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Ah! our departure! It was half-past five. I shook hands +with a few friends. My family, whom I had kept in the most +profound ignorance, was not there. I felt my heart tighten +somewhat when, after the words “Let her go!” I found myself +in about a second some fifty yards above the earth. I still heard +a few cries: “Wait! Come back! Don’t let her be killed!” +And then nothing more. Nothing. There was the sky above and +the earth beneath. Then suddenly I was in the clouds. I had +left a misty Paris. I now breathed under a blue sky and saw a +radiant sun. Around us were opaque mountains of clouds with +irradiated edges. Our balloon plunged into a milky vapour +quite warm from the sun. It was splendid! It was stupefying! +Not a sound, not a breath! But the balloon was scarcely moving +<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>at all. It was only towards six o’clock that the currents of air +caught us, and we took our flight towards the east. We were +at an altitude of about 1700 metres. The spectacle became +fairy-like. Large fleecy clouds were spread below us like a carpet. +Large orange curtains fringed with violet came down from the +sun to lose themselves in our cloudy carpet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At twenty minutes to seven we were about 2500 metres above +the earth, and cold and hunger commenced to make themselves +felt.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The dinner was copious—we had <i><span lang="fr">foie gras</span></i>, fresh bread, and +oranges. The cork of our champagne bottle flew up into the +clouds with a pretty, soft noise. We raised our glasses in honour +of M. Giffard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had talked a great deal. Night began to put on her heavy +dark mantle. It became very cold. We were then at 2600 +metres, and I had a singing in my ears. My nose began to +bleed. I felt very uncomfortable, and began to get drowsy +without being able to prevent it. Georges Clairin got anxious, +and young Godard cried out loudly, to wake me up, no doubt: +“Come, come! We shall have to go down. Let us throw out +the guide-rope!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This cry woke me up. I wanted to know what a guide-rope +was. I got up feeling rather stupefied, and in order to rouse +me Godard put the guide-rope into my hands. It was a strong +rope of about 120 metres long, to which were attached at certain +distances little iron hooks. Clairin and I let out the rope, +laughing, while Godard, bending over the side of the car, was +looking through a field-glass.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Stop!” he cried suddenly. “There are a lot of trees!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were over the wood of Ferrières. But just in front of us +there was a little open ground suitable for our descent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There is no doubt about it,” cried Godard; “if we miss this +plain we shall come down in the dead of night in the wood +of Ferrières, and that will be very dangerous!” Then, turning +to me, “Will you,” he said, “open the valve?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I immediately did so, and the gas came out of its prison +whistling a mocking air. The valve was shut by order of the +aeronaut, and we descended rapidly. Suddenly the stillness of +the night was broken by the sound of a horn. I trembled. It +was Louis Godard, who had pulled out of his pocket, which was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>a veritable storehouse, a sort of horn on which he blew with +violence. A loud whistle answered our call, and 500 metres +below us we saw a man who was shouting his hardest to make +us hear. As we were very close to a little station, we easily +guessed that this man was the station-master.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Where are we?” cried Louis Godard through his horn.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“At—in—in—ille!” answered the station-master. It was impossible +to understand.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Where are we?” thundered Georges Clairin in his most formidable tones.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“At—in—in—ille!” shouted the station-master, with his hand +curved round his mouth.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Where are we?” cried I in my most crystalline accents.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“At—in—in—ille!” answered the station-master and his +porters.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was impossible to get to know anything. We had to lower +the balloon. At first we descended rather too quickly, and the +wind blew us towards the wood. We had to go up again. +But ten minutes later we opened the valve again and made a +fresh descent. The balloon was then to the right of the station, +and far from the amiable station-master.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Throw out the anchor!” cried young Godard in a commanding +tone. And assisted by Georges Clairin, he threw out into +space another rope, to the end of which was fastened a formidable +anchor. The rope was 80 metres long.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Down below us a crowd of children of all ages had been running +ever since we stopped above the station. When we got to +about 300 metres from earth Godard called out to them, “Where +are we?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“At Vachère!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>None of us knew Vachère. But we descended nevertheless.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Hullo! you fellows down there, take hold of the rope that’s +dragging,” cried the aeronaut, “and mind you don’t pull too +hard!” Five vigorous men seized hold of the rope. We were +130 metres from the ground, and the sight was becoming interesting. +Darkness began to blot out everything. I raised my head +to see the sky, but I remained with my mouth open with astonishment. +I saw only the lower end of our balloon, which was overhanging +its base, all loose and baggy. It was very ugly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We anchored gently, without the little dragging which I had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>hoped would happen, and without the little drama which I had +half expected.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It began to rain in torrents as we left the balloon.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The young owner of a neighbouring château ran up, like the +peasants, to see what was going on. He offered me his umbrella.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I am so thin I cannot get wet. I pass between the +drops.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The saying was repeated and had a great success.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What time is there a train?” asked Godard.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, you have plenty of time,” answered an oily and heavy +voice. “You cannot leave before ten o’clock, as the station is a +long way from here, and in such weather it will take Madame +two hours to walk there.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was confounded, and looked for the young gentleman with +the umbrella, which I could have used as walking-stick, as +neither Clairin nor Godard had one. But just as I was accusing +him of going away and leaving us, he jumped lightly out of a +vehicle which I had not heard drive up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There!” said he. “There is a carriage for you and these +gentlemen, and another for the body of the balloon.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Ma foi!</span></i> You have saved us,” said Clairin, clasping his +hand, “for it appears the roads are in a very bad state.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” said the young man, “it would be impossible for the +feet of Parisians to walk even half the distance.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then he bowed and wished us a pleasant journey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Rather more than an hour later we arrived at the station of +Emerainville. The station-master, learning who we were, received +us in a very friendly manner. He made his apologies for +not having heard when we called out an hour previously from our +floating vehicle. We had a frugal meal of bread, cheese, and +cider set before us. I have always detested cheese, and would +never eat it: there is nothing poetical about it. But I was dying +with hunger.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Taste it, taste it,” said Georges Clairin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I bit a morsel off, and found it excellent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We got back very late, in the middle of the night, and I +found my household in an extreme state of anxiety. Our friends +who had come to hear news of us had stayed. There was quite +a crowd. I was somewhat annoyed at this, as I was half dead +with fatigue.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>I sent everybody away rather sharply, and went up to my +room. As my maid was helping me to undress she told me that +some one had come for me from the Comédie Française several +times.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, mon Dieu!” I cried anxiously. “Could the piece have +been changed?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, I don’t think so,” said the maid. “But it appears that +Monsieur Perrin is furious, and that they are all in a rage with +you. Here is the note which was left for you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I opened the letter. I was requested to call on the manager +the following day at two o’clock.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On my arrival at Perrin’s at the time appointed I was received +with exaggerated politeness which had an undercurrent of +severity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then commenced a series of recriminations about my fits of +ill-temper, my caprices, my eccentricities; and he finished his +speech by saying that I had incurred a fine of one thousand +francs for travelling without the consent of the management.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I burst out laughing. “The case of a balloon has not been +foreseen,” I said; “and I vow that I will pay no fine. Outside +the theatre I do as I please, and that is no business of +yours, my dear Monsieur Perrin, so long as I do nothing to +interfere with my theatrical work. And besides, you bore me to +death—I will resign. Be happy.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left him ashamed and anxious.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day I sent in my written resignation to M. Perrin, +and a few hours afterwards I was sent for by M. Turquet, +Minister of Fine Arts. I refused to go, and they sent a mutual +friend, who stated that M. Perrin had gone a step farther than +he had any right to; that the fine was annulled, and that I +must cancel my resignation. So I did.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But the situation was strained. My fame had become annoying +for my enemies, and a little trying, I confess, for my friends. +But at that time all this stir and noise amused me vastly. I did +nothing to attract attention. My somewhat fantastic tastes, +my paleness and thinness, my peculiar way of dressing, my +scorn of fashion, my general freedom in all respects, made me +a being quite apart from all others. I did not recognise the fact.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not read, I never read, the newspapers. So I did not know +what was said about me, either favourable or unfavourable. +Surrounded by a court of adorers of both sexes, I lived in a +sunny dream.</p> +<div id='i288fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i288fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>A CORNER OF THE HALL WITH A PAINTING<br> BY CHARTRAN OF SARAH BERNHARDT<br> AS <em>GISMONDA</em></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>All the royal personages and the notabilities who were the +guests of France during the Exhibition of 1878 came to see me. +This was a constant source of pleasure to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Comédie was the first theatre to which all these illustrious +visitors went, and Croizette and I played nearly every evening. +While I was playing Amphytrion I fell seriously ill, and was +sent to the south.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remained there two months. I lived at Mentone, but I made +Cap Martin my headquarters. I had a tent put up here on +the spot that the Empress Eugénie afterwards selected for her +villa. I did not want to see anybody, and I thought that by +living in a tent so far from the town I should not be troubled +with visitors. This was a mistake. One day when I was having +lunch with my little boy I heard the bells of two horses and +a carriage. The road overhung my tent, which was half hidden +by the bushes. Suddenly a voice which I knew, but could not +recognise, cried in the emphatic tone of a herald, “Does Sarah +Bernhardt, Sociétaire of the Comédie Française, reside here?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We did not move. The question was asked again. Again +the answer was silence. But we heard the sound of breaking +branches, the bushes were pushed apart, and at two yards from +the tent the unwelcome voice recommenced.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were discovered. Somewhat annoyed, I came out. I +saw before me a man with a large <i><span lang="fr">tussore</span></i> cloak on, a field-glass +strapped on his shoulders, a grey bowler hat, and a +red, happy face, with a little pointed beard. I looked at this +commonplace-looking individual with anything but favour. +He lifted his hat.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Madame Sarah Bernhardt is here?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What do you want with me, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here is my card, Madame.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I read, “Gambard, Nice, Villa des Palmiers.” I looked at +him with astonishment, and he was still more astonished to see +that his name did not produce any impression on me. He +had a foreign accent.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, you see, Madame, I came to ask you to sell me your +group, <cite>After the Tempest</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began to laugh.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>“Ma foi, Monsieur, I am treating for that with the firm of +Susse, and they offer me 6000 francs. If you will give ten you +may have it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“All right,” he said. “Here are 10,000 francs. Have you +pen and ink?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah,” said he, “allow me!” And he produced a little case +in which there were pen and ink.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I made out the receipt, and gave him an order to take the +group from my studio in Paris. He went away, and I heard +the bells of the horses ringing and then dying away in the +distance. After this I was often invited to the house of this +original person.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXVI<br> <span class='large'>THE COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE GOES TO LONDON</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Shortly after, I came back to Paris. At the theatre they were +preparing for a benefit performance for Bressant, who was about +to retire from the stage. It was agreed that Mounet-Sully and +I should play an act from <cite>Othello</cite>, by Jean Aicard. The theatre +was well filled, and the audience in a good humour. After +the song I was in bed as Desdemona, when suddenly I +heard the public laugh, softly at first, and then irrepressibly. +Othello had just come in, in the darkness, in his shirt or +very little more, with a lantern in his hand, and gone to a door +hidden in some drapery. The public, that impersonal unity, +has no hesitation in taking part in these unseemly manifestations, +but each member of the audience, taken as a separate +individual, would be ashamed to admit that he participated in +them. But the ridicule thrown on this act by the exaggerated +pantomime of the actor prevented the play being staged again, +and it was only twenty years later that <cite>Othello</cite> as an entire play +was produced at the Théâtre Français. I was then no longer +there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After having played Bérénice in <cite><span lang="fr">Mithridate</span></cite> successfully, I +reappeared in my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of the Queen in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>. The play was +as successful at the Théâtre Français as it had been at the +Odéon, and the public was, if anything, still more favourable to +me. Mounet-Sully played Ruy Blas. He was admirable in the +part, and infinitely superior to Lafontaine, who had played it at +the Odéon. Frédéric Febvre, very well costumed, rendered his +part in a most interesting manner, but he was not so good as +Geffroy, who was the most distinguished and the most terrifying +Don Salluste that could be imagined.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My relations with Perrin were more and more strained.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>He was pleased that I was successful, for the sake of the +theatre; he was happy at the magnificent receipts of <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>; +but he would have much preferred that it had been another +than I who received all the applause. My independence, my +horror of submission, even in appearance, annoyed him vastly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day my servant came to tell me that an elderly Englishman +was asking to see me so insistently that he thought it +better to come and tell me, though I had given orders I was not +to be disturbed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Send him away, and let me work in peace.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was just commencing a picture which interested me very +much. It represented a little girl, on Palm Sunday, carrying +branches of palm. The little model who posed for me was a +lovely Italian of eight years old. Suddenly she said to me:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“He’s quarrelling—that Englishman!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As a matter of fact, in the ante-room there was a noise of +voices rising higher and higher. Irritated, I rushed out, my +palette in my hand, resolved to make the intruder flee. But +just as I opened the door of my studio a tall man came so close +to me that I drew back, and he came into the large room. His +eyes were clear and piercing, his hair silvery white, and his beard +carefully trimmed. He made his excuses very politely, admired +my paintings, my sculpture, my “hall”—and this while I was in +complete ignorance of his name. When at the end of ten minutes +I begged him to sit down and tell me to what I owed the pleasure +of his visit, he replied in a stilted voice with a strong accent:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am Mr. Jarrett, the <i><span lang="fr">impresario</span></i>. I can make your fortune. +Will you come to America?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Never!” I exclaimed firmly. “Never!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well, don’t get angry. Here is my address—don’t lose +it.” Then at the moment he took leave he said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah! you are going to London with the Comédie Française. +Would you like to earn a lot of money in London?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes. How?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“By playing in drawing-rooms. I can make a small fortune +for you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I would be pleased—that is if I go to London, for I have +not yet decided.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Then will you sign a little contract to which we will add an +additional clause?”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>And I signed a contract with this man, who inspired me with +confidence at first sight—a confidence which he never betrayed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The committee and M. Perrin had made an agreement with +John Hollingshead, director of the Gaiety Theatre in London. +Nobody had been consulted, and I thought that was a little too +free and easy. So when they told me about this agreement, I +said nothing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin rather anxiously took me aside:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What are you turning over in your mind?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am turning over this: That I will not go to London in a +situation inferior to anybody. For the entire term of my contract +I intend to be a Sociétaire with one entire share in the +profits.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This intention irritated the committee considerably. And +the next day Perrin told me that my proposal was rejected.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, I shall not go to London. That is all! Nothing in +my contract compels me to go.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The committee met again, and Got cried out, “Well, let her +stay away! She is a regular nuisance!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was therefore decided that I should not go to London. +But Hollingshead and Mayer, his partner, did not see things in +this light, and they declared that the contract would not be +binding if either Croizette, Mounet-Sully, or I did not go.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The agents, who had bought two hundred thousand francs’ +worth of tickets beforehand, also refused to regard the affair as +binding on them if we did not go. Mayer came to see me in +profound despair, and told me all about it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We shall have to break our contract with the Comédie if you +don’t come,” he said, “for the business cannot go through.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Frightened at the consequences of my bad temper, I ran to +see Perrin, and told him that after the consultation I had just +had with Mayer I understood the involuntary injury I should +be causing to the Théâtre Français and to my comrades, and I +told him I was ready to go under any conditions.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The committee was holding a meeting. Perrin asked me to +wait, and shortly after he came back to me. Croizette and I had +been appointed Sociétaires with one entire share in the profits +each, not only for London, but for always.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Everybody had done their duty. Perrin, very much touched, +took both my hands and drew me to him.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>“Oh, the good and untamable little creature!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We embraced, and peace was again concluded between us. +But it could not last long, for five days after this reconciliation, +about nine o’clock in the evening, M. Perrin was announced at +my house. I had some friends to dinner, so I went to receive +him in the hall. He held out to me a paper.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Read that,” said he.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And I read in an English newspaper, the <cite>Times</cite>, this paragraph:</p> + +<p class='c016'><span class='sc'>Drawing-room Comedies of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, +under the management of Sir Julius Benedict.</span>—“The +<i><span lang="fr">répertoire</span></i> of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt is composed of comedies, +proverbs, one-act plays, and monologues, written specially for +her and one or two artistes of the Comédie Française. These +comedies are played without accessories or scenery, and can be +adapted both in London and Paris to the <i><span lang="fr">matinées</span></i> and <i><span lang="fr">soirées</span></i> +of the best society. For all details and conditions please communicate +with Mr. Jarrett (secretary of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt) +at Her Majesty’s Theatre.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I was reading the last lines it dawned on me that Jarrett, +learning that I was certainly coming to London, had begun to +advertise me. I explained this frankly to Perrin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What objection is there,” I said, “to my making use of my +evenings to earn money? This business has been proposed to +me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I am not complaining—it’s the committee.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That is too bad!” I cried, and calling for my secretary, I +said, “Give me Delaunay’s letter that I gave you yesterday.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He brought it out of one of his numerous pockets and gave it +to Perrin to read.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Would you care to come and play <cite><span lang="fr">La Nuit d’Octobre</span></cite> at +Lady Dudley’s on Thursday, June 5? We are offered 5000 +francs for us two. Kind regards.—<span class='sc'>Delaunay.</span>”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Let me have this letter,” said the manager, visibly annoyed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, I will not. But you may tell Delaunay that I spoke to +you about his offer.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>For the next two or three days nothing was talked of in Paris +but the scandalous notice in the <cite>Times</cite>. The French were +then almost entirely ignorant of the habits and customs of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>English. At last all this talk annoyed me, and I begged Perrin +to try and stop it, and the next day the following appeared +in the <cite>National</cite> (May 29): “<cite>Much Ado about Nothing.</cite>—In +friendly discussion it has been decided that outside the rehearsals +and the performances of the Comédie Française each artiste is +free to employ his time as he sees fit. There is therefore +absolutely no truth at all in the pretended quarrel between the +Comédie Française and Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt. This artiste has +only acted strictly within her rights, which nobody attempts to +limit, and all our artistes intend to benefit in the same manner. +The manager of the Comédie Française asks only that the artistes +who form this company do not give performances in a body.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This article came from the Comédie, and the members of the +committee had taken advantage of it to advertise themselves a +little, announcing that they also were ready to play in drawing-rooms, +for the article was sent to Mayer with a request that it +should appear in the English papers. It was Mayer himself +who told me this.</p> + +<p class='c013'>All disputes being at an end, we commenced our preparations +for departure.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had been but once on the sea when it was decided that the +artistes of the Comédie Française should go to London. The +determined ignorance of the French with regard to all things +foreign was much more pronounced in those days than it is at +present. Therefore I had a very warm cloak made, as I had +been assured that the crossing was icy cold even in the very +middle of summer, and I believed this. On every side I was +besieged with lozenges for sea-sickness, sedatives for headache, +tissue paper to put down my back, little compress plasters to +put on my diaphragm, and waterproof cork soles for my shoes, +for it appeared that above all things I must not have cold feet. +Oh, how droll and amusing it all was! I took everything, paid +attention to all the recommendations, and believed everything +I was told.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The most inconceivable thing of all, though, was the arrival, +five minutes before the boat started, of an enormous wooden +case. It was very light, and was held by a tall young man, who +to-day is a most remarkable individual, possessing all orders +and honours, a colossal fortune, and the most outrageous vanity. +At that time he was a timid inventor, young, poor, and sad: he +<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>was always buried in books which treated of abstract questions, +whilst of life he knew absolutely nothing. He had a great +admiration for me, mingled with a trifle of awe. My little court +had surnamed him “La Quenelle.” He was long, vacillating, +colourless, and really did resemble the thin roll of forcemeat in +a <i><span lang="fr">vol-au-vent</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He came up to see me, his face more wan-looking even than +usual. The boat was moving a little. My departure terrified +him, and the wind caused him to plunge from right to left. +He made a mysterious sign to me, and I followed him, accompanied +by <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>, and leaving my friends, who were +inclined to be ironical, behind. When I was seated he opened +the case and took out an enormous life-belt invented by himself. +I was perfectly astounded, for I was new to sea voyages, and +the idea had never even occurred to me that we might be shipwrecked +during one hour’s crossing. La Quenelle was by no +means disconcerted, and he put the belt on himself in order to +show me how it was used.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Nothing could have looked more foolish than this man, with +his sad, serious face, putting on this apparatus. There were +a dozen egg-sized bladders round the belt, eleven of which were +filled with air and contained a piece of sugar. In the twelfth, +a very small bladder, were ten drops of brandy. In the middle +of the belt was a tiny cushion with a few pins on it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You understand,” he said to me. “You fall in the water—paff!—you +stay like this.” Hereupon he pretended to sit down, +rising and sinking with the movement of the waves, his two +hands in front of him laid upon the imaginary sea, and his neck +stretched like that of a tortoise in order to keep his head above +water.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You see, you have now been in the water for two hours,” he +explained, “and you want to get back your strength. You take +a pin and prick an egg, like this. You take your lump of +sugar and eat it; that is as good as a quarter of a pound of +meat.” He then threw the broken bladder overboard, and from +the packing case brought out another, which he fastened to the +life-belt. He had evidently thought of everything. I was +petrified with amazement. A few of my friends had gathered +round, hoping for one of La Quenelle’s mad freaks, but they had +never expected anything like this one.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>M. Mayer, one of our <i><span lang="fr">impresarii</span></i>, fearing a scandal of +too absurd a kind, dispersed the people who were gathering +round us. I did not know whether to be angry or to laugh, +but the jeering, unjust speech of one of my friends roused my +pity for this poor Quenelle. I thought of the hours he had +spent in planning, combining, and then manufacturing his ridiculous +machine. I was touched by the anxiety and affection +which had prompted the invention of this life saving apparatus, +and I held out my hand to my poor Quenelle, saying, “Be off +now, quickly; the boat is just going to start.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He kissed the hand held out to him in a friendly way, and +hurried off. I then called my steward, Claude, and I said, “As +soon as we are out of sight of land, throw that case and all it +contains into the sea.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The departure of the boat was accompanied by shouts of +“Hurrah! Au revoir! Success! Good luck!” There was a +waving of hands, handkerchiefs floating in the air, and kisses +thrown haphazard to every one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But what was really fine, and a sight I shall never forget, was +our landing at Folkestone. There were thousands of people +there, and it was the first time I had ever heard the cry of +“Vive Sarah Bernhardt!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I turned my head and saw before me a pale young man, the +ideal face of Hamlet. He presented me with a gardenia. I +was destined to admire him later on as Hamlet played by Forbes +Robertson. We passed on through a crowd offering us flowers +and shaking hands, and I soon saw that I was more favoured +than the others. This slightly embarrassed me, but I was +delighted all the same. One of my comrades who was just +near, and with whom I was not a favourite, said to me in a +spiteful tone:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“They’ll make you a carpet of flowers soon.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here is one!” exclaimed a young man, throwing an armful +of lilies on the ground in front of me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I stopped short, rather confused, not daring to walk on these +white flowers, but the crowd pressing on behind compelled me +to advance, and the poor lilies had to be trodden under foot.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Hip, hip, hurrah! A cheer for Sarah Bernhardt!” shouted +the turbulent young man.</p> + +<p class='c013'>His head was above all the other heads; he had luminous eyes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>and long hair, and looked like a German student. He was an +English poet, though, and one of the greatest of the century, +a poet who was a genius, but who was, alas! later tortured and +finally vanquished by madness. It was Oscar Wilde.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The crowd responded to his appeal, and we reached our train +amidst shouts of “Hip, hip, hurrah for Sarah Bernhardt! +Hip, hip, hurrah for the French actors!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the train arrived at Charing Cross towards nine o’clock +we were nearly an hour late. A feeling of sadness came over +me. The weather was gloomy, and then, too, I thought we +should have been greeted again on our arrival in London with +more hurrahs. There were plenty of people, crowds of people, +but none appeared to know us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On reaching the station I had noticed that there was a handsome +carpet laid down, and I thought it was for us. Oh, I +was prepared for anything, as our reception at Folkestone had +turned my head. The carpet, however, had been laid down for +their Royal Highnesses the Prince and the Princess of Wales, +who had just left for Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This news disappointed me, and even annoyed me personally. +I had been told that all London was quivering with excitement +at the very idea of the visit of the Comédie Française, and I +had found London extremely indifferent. The crowd was large +and even dense, but cold.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why have the Prince and Princess gone away to-day?” I +asked M. Mayer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, because they had decided beforehand about this visit +to Paris,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, then they won’t be here for our first night?” I +continued.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No. The Prince has taken a box for the season, for which he +has paid four hundred pounds, but it will be used by the Duke +of Connaught.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was in despair. I don’t know why, but I certainly was in +despair, as I felt that everything was going wrong.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A footman led the way to my carriage, and I drove through +London with a heavy heart. Everything looked dark and +dismal, and when I reached the house, 77 Chester Square, I did +not want to get out of my carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The door of the house was wide open, though, and in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>brilliantly lighted hall I could see what looked like all the +flowers on earth arranged in baskets, bouquets, and huge +bunches. I got out of the carriage and entered the house in +which I was to live for the next six weeks. All the branches +seemed to be stretching out their flowers to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Have you the cards that came with all these flowers?” I +asked my man-servant.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” he replied. “I have put them together on a tray. +All of them are from Paris, from Madame’s friends there. +This one is the only bouquet from here.” He handed me an +enormous one, and on the card with it I read the words, +“Welcome!—Henry Irving.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went all through the house, and it seemed to me very +dismal-looking. I visited the garden, but the damp seemed +to go through me, and my teeth chattered when I came +in again. That night when I went to sleep my heart was +heavy with foreboding, as though I were on the eve of some +misfortune.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day was given up to receiving journalists. I +wanted to see them all at the same time, but Mr. Jarrett +objected to this. That man was a veritable advertising genius. +I had no idea of it at that time. He had made me some very +good offers for America, and although I had refused them, I +nevertheless held a very high opinion of him, on account of his +intelligence, his comic humour, and my need of being piloted +in this new country.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” he said; “if you receive them all together, they will all +be furious, and you will get some wretched articles. You must +receive them one after the other.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Thirty-seven journalists came that day, and Jarrett insisted +on my seeing every one of them. He stayed in the room and +saved the situation when I said anything foolish. I spoke +English very badly, and some of the men spoke French very badly. +Jarrett translated my answers to them. I remember perfectly +well that all of them began with, “Well, Mademoiselle, what +do you think of London?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had arrived the previous evening at nine o’clock, and the +first of these journalists asked me this question at ten in the +morning. I had drawn my curtain on getting up, and all I +knew of London was Chester Square, a small square of sombre +<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>verdure, in the midst of which was a black statue, and the +horizon bounded by an ugly church.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I really could not answer the question, but Jarrett was quite +prepared for this, and I learnt the following morning that I +was most enthusiastic about the beauty of London, that I had +already seen a number of the public buildings, &c. &c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Towards five o’clock Hortense Damain arrived. She was a +charming woman, and a favourite in London society. She had +come to inform me that the Duchess of —— and Lady —— +would call on me at half-past five.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, stay with me, then,” I said to her. “You know how +unsociable I am; I feel sure that I shall be stupid.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the time fixed my visitors were announced. This was the +first time I had come into contact with any members of the +English aristocracy, and I have always had since a very pleasant +memory of it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Lady R—— was extremely beautiful, and the Duchess was so +gracious, so distinguished, and so kind that I was very much +touched by her visit.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few minutes later Lord Dudley called. I knew him very +well, as he had been introduced to me by Marshal Canrobert, +one of my dearest friends. He asked me if I would care to +have a ride the following morning, and he said he had a very nice +lady’s horse which was entirely at my service. I thanked him, +but I wanted first to drive in Rotten Row.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At seven o’clock Hortense Damain came to fetch me to dine +with her at the house of the Baroness M——. She had a very +nice house in Prince’s Gate. There were about twenty guests, +among others the painter Millais. I had been told that the +<i><span lang="fr">cuisine</span></i> was very bad in England, but I thought this dinner +perfect. I had been told that the English were cold and sedate: +I found them charming and full of humour. Every one spoke +French very well, and I was ashamed of my ignorance of the +English language. After dinner there were recitations and +music. I was touched by the gracefulness and tact of my hosts +in not asking me to recite any poetry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was very much interested in observing the society in which +I found myself. It did not in any way resemble a French +gathering. The young girls seemed to be enjoying themselves +on their own account, and enjoying themselves thoroughly. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>They had not come there to find a husband. What surprised +me a little was the <i><span lang="fr">décolleté</span></i> of ladies who were getting on +in years and to whom time had not been very merciful. I spoke +of this to Hortense Damain.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s frightful!” I said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, but it’s chic.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She was very charming, my friend Hortense, but she troubled +about nothing that was not <i><span lang="fr">chic</span></i>. She sent me the “<em>Chic</em> commandments” +a few days before I left Paris:</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Chester Square tu habiteras.</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>In Chester Square thou shalt live</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Rotten Row tu monteras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>In Rotten Row thou shalt ride</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Le Parlement visiteras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>Parliament thou shalt visit</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Garden-parties fréquenteras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>Garden parties thou shalt frequent,</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Chaque visite tu rendras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>Every visit thou shalt return</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">A chaque lettre tu repondras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>Every letter thou shalt answer</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Photographies tu signeras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>Photographs thou shalt sign</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Hortense Damain tu écouteras</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>To Hortense Damain thou shalt listen</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'><i><span lang="fr">Et tous ses conseils, les suivras.</span></i></td> + <td class='c014'>And all her counsels thou shalt follow.</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c013'>I laughed at these “commandments,” but I soon realised that +under this jocular form she considered them as very serious and +important. Alas! my poor friend had hit upon the wrong +person for her counsels. I detested paying visits, writing letters, +signing photographs, or following any one’s advice. I adore +having people come to see me, and I detest going to see them. +I adore receiving letters, reading them, commenting on them, +but I detest writing them. I detest riding and driving in frequented +parts, and I adore lonely roads and solitary places. +I adore giving advice and I detest receiving it, and I never +follow at once any wise advice that is given me. It always +requires an effort of my will to recognise the justice of any +counsel, and then an effort of my intellect to be grateful for it: +at first, it simply annoys me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Consequently, I paid no attention to Hortense Damain’s +counsels, nor yet to Jarrett’s; and in this I made a great mistake, +for many people were vexed with me (in any other country +I should have made enemies). On that first visit to London +what a quantity of letters of invitation I received to which +I never replied! How many charming women called upon me +and I never returned their calls. Then, too, how many times +accepted invitations to dinner and never went after all, nor +<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>did I even send a line of excuse. It is perfectly odious, I know; +and yet I always accept with pleasure and intend to go, but +when the day comes I am tired perhaps, or want to have a +quiet time, or to be free from any obligation, and when I +am obliged to decide one way or another, the time has gone by +and it is too late to send word and too late to go. And so I +stay at home, dissatisfied with myself, with every one else and +with everything.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXVII<br> <span class='large'>LONDON LIFE—MY FIRST PERFORMANCE AT THE GAIETY THEATRE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Hospitality is a quality made up of primitive taste and +antique grandeur. The English are, in my opinion, the most +hospitable people on earth, and they are hospitable simply +and munificently. When an Englishman has opened his door +to you he never closes it again. He excuses your faults and +accepts your peculiarities. It is thanks to this broadness of +ideas that I have been for twenty-five years the beloved and +pampered artiste.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was delighted with my first <i><span lang="fr">soirée</span></i> in London, and I returned +home very gay and very much “anglomaniaised.” I found +some of my friends there—Parisians who had just arrived—and +they were furious. My enthusiasm exasperated them, and we +sat up arguing until two in the morning.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day I went to Rotten Row. It was glorious +weather, and all Hyde Park seemed to be strewn with enormous +bouquets. There were the flower-beds wonderfully arranged by +the gardeners; then there were the clusters of sunshades, blue, +pink, red, white, or yellow, which sheltered the light hats +covered with flowers under which shone the pretty faces of +children and women. Along the riding path there was an exciting +gallop of graceful thoroughbreds bearing along some hundreds +of horsewomen, slender, supple, and courageous; then there were +men and children, the latter mounted on big Irish ponies. +There were other children, too, galloping along on Scotch +ponies with long, shaggy manes, the children’s hair and the +manes of the horses streaming in the wind of their own speed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The carriage road between the riding-track and the foot +passengers was filled with dog-carts, open carriages of various +<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>kinds, mail-coaches, and very smart cabs. There were powdered +footmen, horses decorated with flowers, sportsmen driving, +ladies, too, driving admirable horses. All this elegance, this +essence of luxury, and this joy of life brought back to my +memory the vision of our Bois de Boulogne, so elegant and so +animated a few years before, when Napoleon III. used to drive +through on his <em>daumont</em>, nonchalant and smiling. Ah, how +beautiful it was in those days—our Bois de Boulogne, with the +officers caracoling in the Avenue des Acacias, admired by our +beautiful society women!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The joy of life was everywhere—the love of love enveloping +life with an infinite charm. I closed my eyes, and I felt a pang +at my heart as the awful recollections of 1870 crowded to my +brain. He was dead, our gentle Emperor, with his shrewd smile. +Dead, vanquished by the sword, betrayed by fortune, crushed +with grief.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The thread of life in Paris had been taken up again in all its +intenseness, but the life of elegance, of charm, and of luxury was +still shrouded in crape. Scarcely eight years had passed since +the war had struck down our soldiers, ruined our hopes, and +tarnished our glory. Three Presidents had already succeeded +each other. That wretched little Thiers, with his perverse +<i><span lang="fr">bourgeois</span></i> soul, had worn his teeth out with nibbling at every +kind of Government—royalty under Louis Philippe, Empire +under Napoleon III., and the executive power of the French +Republic. He had never even thought of lifting our beloved +Paris up again, bowed down as she was under the weight of so +many ruins. He had been succeeded by MacMahon, a good, +brave man, but a cipher. Grévy had succeeded the Marshal, +but he was miserly, and considered all outlay unnecessary for +himself, for other people, and for the country. And so Paris +remained sad, nursing the leprosy that the Commune had communicated +to her by the kiss of its fires. And our delightful +Bois de Boulogne still bore the traces of the injuries that the +national defence had inflicted on her. The Avenue des Acacias +was deserted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I opened my eyes again. They were filled with tears, and +through their mist I caught a glimpse once more of the +triumphant vitality which surrounded me.</p> +<div id='i304fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i304fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT<br> IN RIDING COSTUME</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>I wanted to return home at once, for I was acting that night +for the first time, and I felt rather wretched and despairing. +There were several persons awaiting me at my house in Chester +Square, but I did not want to see any one. I took a cup of tea +and went to the Gaiety Theatre, where we were to face the +English public for the first time. I knew already that I had +been elected the favourite, and the idea of this chilled me +with terror, for I am what is known as a <i><span lang="fr">traqueuse</span></i>. I +am subject to the <i><span lang="fr">trac</span></i> or stage fright, and I have it terribly. +When I first appeared on the stage I was timid, but I never had +this <i><span lang="fr">trac</span></i>. I used to turn as red as a poppy when I happened +to meet the eye of some spectator. I was ashamed of talking so +loud before so many silent people. That was the effect of my +cloistered life, but I had no feeling of fear. The first time I ever +had the real sensation of <i><span lang="fr">trac</span></i> or stage fright was in the +month of January 1869, at the seventh or perhaps the eighth +performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>. The success of this little masterpiece +had been enormous, and my interpretation of the part +of Zanetto had delighted the public, and particularly the +students. When I went on the stage that day I was suddenly +applauded by the whole house. I turned towards the Imperial +box, thinking that the Emperor had just entered. But no; the +box was empty, and I realised then that all the bravos were +for me. I was seized with a fit of nervous trembling, and +my eyes smarted with tears that I had to keep back. Agar and +I had five curtain calls, and on leaving the theatre the students +ranged on each side gave me three cheers. On reaching home +I flung myself into the arms of my blind grandmother, who was +then living with me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What’s the matter with you, my dear?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It’s all over with me, grandmother,” I said. “They want to +make a ‘star’ of me, and I haven’t talent enough for that. You’ll +see they’ll drag me down and finish me off with all their bravos.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My grandmother took my head in her hands, and I met +the vacant look in her large light eyes fixed on me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You told me, my child, that you wanted to be the first +in your profession, and when the opportunity comes to you, why, +you are frightened. It seems to me that you are a very +bad soldier.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I drove back my tears, and declared that I would bear up +courageously against this success which had come to interfere +<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>with my tranquillity, my heedlessness, and my “don’t care-ism.” +But from that time forth fear took possession of me, and +stage fright martyrised me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was under these conditions that I prepared for the second +act of <cite>Phèdre</cite>, in which I was to appear for the first time before +the English public. Three times over I put rouge on my cheeks, +blackened my eyes, and three times over I took it all off again +with a sponge. I thought I looked ugly, and it seemed to me I +was thinner than ever and not so tall. I closed my eyes to +listen to my voice. My special pitch is “<em>le bal</em>,” which I +pronounce low down with the open <em>a</em>, “<em>le bâââl</em>,” or take +high by dwelling on the <em>l</em>—“<em>le balll</em>.” Ah, but there was no +doubt about it; my “<em>le bal</em>” neither sounded high nor low, +my voice was hoarse in the low notes and not clear in the +soprano. I cried with rage, and just then I was informed that the +second act of <cite>Phèdre</cite> was about to commence. This drove me +wild. I had not my veil on, nor my rings, and my cameo belt +was not fastened.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began to murmur:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<i><span lang="fr">Le voici! Vers mon cœur tout mon sang se retire.</span></i></div> + <div class='line'><i><span lang="fr">J’oublie en le voyant....</span></i>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>That word “<i><span lang="fr">j’oublie</span></i>” struck me with a new idea. What if I +did forget the words I had to say? Why, yes. What was it I +had to say? I did not know—I could not remember. What +was I to say after “<i><span lang="fr">en le voyant</span></i>”?</p> + +<p class='c013'>No one answered me. Every one was alarmed at my nervous +state. I heard Got mumble, “She’s going mad!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mlle. Thénard, who was playing Œnone, my old nurse, said +to me, “Calm yourself. All the English have gone to Paris; +there’s no one in the house but Belgians.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This foolishly comic speech turned my thoughts in another +direction.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“How stupid you are!” I said. “You know how frightened +I was at Brussels!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, all for nothing,” she answered calmly. “There were +only English people in the theatre that day.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had to go on the stage at once, and I could not even answer +her, but she had changed the current of my ideas. I still had +stage fright, but not the fright that paralyses, only the kind +that drives one wild. This is bad enough, but it is preferable +<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>to the other sort. It makes one do too much, but at any rate +one does something.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The whole house had applauded my arrival on the stage for a +few seconds, and as I bent my head in acknowledgment I said +within myself, “Yes—yes—you shall see. I’m going to give +you my very blood—my life itself—my soul.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I began my part, as I had lost my self-possession, I +started on rather too high a note, and when once in full swing +I could not get lower again—I simply could not stop. I +suffered, I wept, I implored, I cried out; and it was all real. My +suffering was horrible; my tears were flowing, scorching and +bitter. I implored Hippolyte for the love which was killing +me, and my arms stretched out to Mounet-Sully were the arms +of Phèdre writhing in the cruel longing for his embrace. The +inspiration had come.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the curtain fell Mounet-Sully lifted me up inanimate +and carried me to my dressing-room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The public, unaware of what was happening, wanted me to +appear again and bow. I too wanted to return and thank the +public for its attention, its kindliness, and its emotion. I returned.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following is what John Murray said in the <cite><span lang="fr">Gaulois</span></cite> of +June 5, 1879:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“When, recalled with loud cries, Mlle. Bernhardt appeared, +exhausted by her efforts and supported by Mounet-Sully, she +received an ovation which I think is unique in the annals of the +theatre in England.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following morning the <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> terminated its +admirable criticism with these lines:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Clearly Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt exerted every nerve and fibre, +and her passion grew with the excitement of the spectators, +for when, after a recall that could not be resisted, the curtain +drew up, M. Mounet-Sully was seen supporting the exhausted +figure of the actress, who had won her triumph only after +tremendous physical exertion—and triumph it was, however short +and sudden.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The <cite>Standard</cite> finished its article with these words:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The subdued passion, repressed for a time, until at length +it burst its bonds, and the despairing, heart-broken woman is +revealed to Hippolyte, was shown with so vivid a reality that a +scene of enthusiasm such as is rarely witnessed in a theatre +<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>followed the fall of the curtain. Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt in the +few minutes she was upon the stage (and coming on, it must be +remembered, to plunge into the middle of a stirring tragedy) yet +contrived to make an impression which will not soon be effaced +from those who were present.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The <cite>Morning Post</cite> said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Very brief are the words spoken before Phèdre rushes into +the room to commence tremblingly and nervously, with struggles +which rend and tear and convulse the system, the secret of her +shameful love. As her passion mastered what remained of +modesty or reserve in her nature, the woman sprang forward and +recoiled again, with the movements of a panther, striving, as it +seemed, to tear from her bosom the heart which stifled her with +its unholy longings, until in the end, when, terrified at the +horror her breathings have provoked in Hippolyte, she strove +to pull his sword from its sheath and plunge it in her own +breast, she fell back in complete and absolute collapse. This +exhibition, marvellous in beauty of pose, in febrile force, in +intensity, and in purity of delivery, is the more remarkable as +the passion had to be reached, so to speak, at a bound, no +performance of the first act having roused the actress to the +requisite heat. It proved Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt worthy of her +reputation, and shows what may be expected from her by the +public which has eagerly expected her coming.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This London first night was decisive for my future.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXVIII<br> <span class='large'>MY PERFORMANCES IN LONDON—MY EXHIBITION—MY WILD ANIMALS—TROUBLE WITH THE COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>My intense desire to win over the English public had caused +me to overtax my strength. I had done my utmost at the first +performance, and had not spared myself in the least. The +consequence was in the night I vomited blood in such an alarming +way that a messenger was despatched to the French Embassy +in search of a physician. Dr. Vintras, who was at the head of +the French Hospital in London, found me lying on my bed, +exhausted and looking more dead than alive. He was afraid +that I should not recover, and requested that my family be sent +for. I made a gesture with my hand to the effect that it was +not necessary. As I could not speak, I wrote down with a pencil, +“Send for Dr. Parrot.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dr. Vintras remained with me part of the night, putting +crushed ice between my lips every five minutes. At length +towards five in the morning the blood vomiting ceased, and, +thanks to a potion that the doctor gave me, I fell asleep.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were to play <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite> that night at the Gaiety, and, +as my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> was not a very fatiguing one, I wanted to perform my +part <i><span lang="fr">quand-même</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Dr. Parrot arrived by the four o’clock boat, and refused categorically +to give his consent. He had attended me from my +childhood. I really felt much better, and the feverishness +had left me. I wanted to get up, but to this Dr. Parrot +objected.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Presently Dr. Vintras and Mr. Mayer, the impresario of the +Comédie Française, were announced. Mr. Hollingshead, the +director of the Gaiety Theatre, was waiting in a carriage at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>door to know whether I was going to play in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, the +piece announced on the bills. I asked Dr. Parrot to rejoin Dr. +Vintras in the drawing-room, and I gave instructions for Mr. +Mayer to be introduced into my room.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I feel much better,” I said to him very quickly. “I’m very +weak still, but I will play. Hush!—don’t say a word here. +Tell Hollingshead, and wait for me in the smoking-room, but +don’t let any one else know.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then got up and dressed very quickly. My maid helped +me, and as she had guessed what my plan was, she was highly +amused.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Wrapped in my cloak, with a lace fichu over my head, I +joined Mayer in the smoking-room, and then we both got into +his hansom.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come to me in an hour’s time,” I said in a low voice to my +maid.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Where are you going?” asked Mayer, perfectly stupefied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“To the theatre! Quick—quick!” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The cab started, and I then explained to him that if I had +stayed at home, neither Dr. Parrot nor Dr. Vintras would have +allowed me to perform.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The die is cast now,” I added, “and we shall see what +happens.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>When once I was at the theatre I took refuge in the +manager’s private office, in order to avoid Dr. Parrot’s anger. +I was very fond of him, and I knew how wrongly I was acting +with regard to him, considering the inconvenience to which he +had put himself in making the journey specially for me in +response to my summons. I knew, though, how impossible it +would have been to have made him understand that I felt really +better, and that in risking my life I was really only risking what +was my own to dispose of as I pleased.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Half an hour later my maid joined me. She brought with +her a letter from Dr. Parrot, full of gentle reproaches and +furious advice, finishing with a prescription in case of a relapse. +He was leaving an hour later, and would not even come and +shake hands with me. I felt quite sure, though, that we should +make it all up again on my return. I then began to prepare +for my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>. While dressing I fainted three +times, but I was determined to play <i><span lang="fr">quand-même</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>The opium that I had taken in my potion made my head +rather heavy. I arrived on the stage in a semi-conscious state, +delighted with the applause I received. I walked along as +though I were in a dream, and could scarcely distinguish my +surroundings. The house itself I only saw through a luminous +mist. My feet glided along without any effort on the carpet, +and my voice sounded to me far away, very far away. I was in +that delicious stupor that one experiences after chloroform, +morphine, opium, or hasheesh.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The first act went off very well, but in the third act, just when +I was about to tell the Duchesse de Septmonts (Croizette) all the +troubles that I, Mrs. Clarkson, had gone through during my +life, just as I should have commenced my interminable story, I +could not remember anything. Croizette murmured my first +phrase for me, but I could only see her lips move without +hearing a word. I then said quite calmly:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The reason I sent for you here, Madame, is because I +wanted to tell you my reasons for acting as I have done. I +have thought it over and have decided not to tell you them +to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sophie Croizette gazed at me with a terrified look in her eyes. +She then rose and left the stage, her lips trembling, and her eyes +fixed on me all the time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What’s the matter?” every one asked when she sank almost +breathless into an arm-chair.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Sarah has gone mad!” she exclaimed. “I assure you she +has gone quite mad. She has cut out the whole of her scene +with me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But how?” every one asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She has cut out two hundred lines,” said Croizette.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But what for?” was the eager question.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I don’t know. She looks quite calm.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The whole of this conversation, which was repeated to me later +on, took much less time than it does now to write it down. +Coquelin had been told, and he now came on to the stage to +finish the act. The curtain fell. I was stupefied and desperate +afterwards on hearing all that people told me. I had not +noticed that anything was wrong, and it seemed to me that I +had played the whole of my part as usual, but I was really under +the influence of the opium. There was very little for me to say +<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>in the fifth act, and I went through that perfectly well. The +following day the accounts in the papers sounded the praises of +our company, but the piece itself was criticised. I was afraid at +first that my involuntary omission of the important scene in the +third act was one of the causes of the severity of the Press. +This was not so, though, as all the critics had read and re-read +the piece. They discussed the play itself, and did not mention +my slip of memory.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The <cite>Figaro</cite>, which was in a very bad humour with me just +then, had an article from which I quote the following extract:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite> is not a piece in accordance with the English +taste. Mlle. Croizette, however, was applauded enthusiastically, +and so were Coquelin and Febvre. Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, +nervous as usual, lost her memory.” (<cite>Figaro</cite>, June 3rd.)</p> + +<p class='c013'>He knew perfectly well, this worthy Mr. Johnson,<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c019'><sup>[3]</sup></a> that I was +very ill. He had been to my house and seen Dr. Parrot; consequently +he was aware that I was acting in spite of the Faculty +in the interests of the Comédie Française. The English public +had given me such proofs of appreciation that the Comédie was +rather affected by it, and the <cite>Figaro</cite>, which was at that time +the organ of the Théâtre Français, requested Johnson to modify +his praises of me. This he did the whole time that we were +in London.</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c013'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. T. Johnson, London correspondent of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Figaro</span></cite>.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>My reason for telling about my loss of memory, which was +quite an unimportant incident in itself, is merely to prove to +authors how unnecessary it is to take the trouble of explaining +the characters of their creations. Alexandre Dumas was certainly +anxious to give us the reasons which caused Mrs. Clarkson +to act as strangely as she did. He had created a person who was +extremely interesting and full of action as the play proceeds. +She reveals herself to the public, in the first act, by the lines +which Mrs. Clarkson says to Madame de Septmonts:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I should be very glad, Madame, if you would call on me. +We could talk about one of your friends, Monsieur Gérard, +whom I love perhaps as much as you do, although he does not +perhaps care for me as he does for you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>That was quite enough to interest the public in these two +women. It was the eternal struggle of good and evil, the combat +between vice and virtue. But it evidently seemed rather +<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>commonplace to Dumas, ancient history, in fact, and he wanted to +rejuvenate the old theme by trying to arrange for an orchestra +with organ and banjo. The result he obtained was a fearful +cacophony. He wrote a foolish piece, which might have been a +beautiful one. The originality of his style, the loyalty of his +ideas, and the brutality of his humour sufficed for rejuvenating +old ideas which, in reality, are the eternal basis of tragedies, +comedies, novels, pictures, poems, and pamphlets. It was love +between vice and virtue. Among the spectators who saw the +first performance of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite> in London, and there were +quite as many French as English present, not one remarked that +there was something wanting, and not one of them said that he +had not understood the character.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I talked about it to a very learned Frenchman.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Did you notice the gap in the third act?” I asked him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“In my big scene with Croizette?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, read what I left out,” I insisted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When he had read this he exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“So much the better. It’s very dull, all that story, and quite +useless. I understand the character without all that rigmarole +and that romantic history.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Later on, when I apologised to Dumas <i><span lang="fr">fils</span></i> for the way in +which I had cut down his play, he answered, “Oh, my dear child, +when I write a play I think it is good, when I see it played I +think it is stupid, and when any one tells it to me I think it is +perfect, as the person always forgets half of it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The performances given by the Comédie Française drew a +crowd nightly to the Gaiety Theatre, and I remained the +favourite. I mention this now with pride, but without any +vanity. I was very happy and very grateful for my success, but +my comrades had a grudge against me on account of it, and +hostilities began in an underhand, treacherous way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mr. Jarrett, my adviser and agent, had assured me that I +should be able to sell a few of my works, either my sculpture or +paintings. I had therefore taken with me six pieces of sculpture +and ten pictures, and I had an exhibition of them in +Piccadilly. I sent out invitations, about a hundred in all.</p> + +<p class='c013'>His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales let me know that he +<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>would come with the Princess of Wales. The English aristocracy +and the celebrities of London came to the inauguration. I had +only sent out a hundred invitations, but twelve hundred people +arrived and were introduced to me. I was delighted, and enjoyed +it all immensely.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mr. Gladstone did me the great honour of talking to me for +about ten minutes. With his genial mind he spoke of everything in a singularly gracious way. He asked me what impression the attacks of certain clergymen on the Comédie +Française and the damnable profession of dramatic artistes had +made on me. I answered that I considered our art quite as +profitable, morally, as the sermons of Catholic and Protestant +preachers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But will you tell me, Mademoiselle,” he insisted, “what +moral lesson you can draw from <cite>Phèdre</cite>?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Mr. Gladstone,” I replied, “you surprise me. <cite>Phèdre</cite> +is an ancient tragedy; the morality and customs of those times +belong to perspective quite different from ours and different +from the morality of our present society. And yet in that there +is the punishment of the old nurse Œnone, who commits the +atrocious crime of accusing an innocent person. The love of +Phèdre is excusable on account of the fatality which hangs over +her family and descends pitilessly upon her. In our times we +should call that fatality atavism, for Phèdre was the daughter +of Minos and Pasiphaë. As to Theseus, his verdict, against +which there could be no appeal, was an arbitrary and monstrous +act, and was punished by the death of that beloved son of his, +who was the sole and last hope of his life. We ought never to +do what is irreparable.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah,” said the Grand Old Man, “you are against capital +punishment?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, Mr. Gladstone.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And quite right, Mademoiselle.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Frederic Leighton then joined us, and with great kindness complimented +me on one of my pictures, representing a young girl +holding some palms. This picture was bought by Prince Leopold.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My little exhibition was a great success, but I never thought +that it was to be the cause of so much gossip and of so many +cowardly side-thrusts, until finally it led to my rupture with +the Comédie Française.</p> +<div id='i314fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i314fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>“OPHELIA,” SCULPTURE BY SARAH BERNHARDT</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>I had no pretensions either as a painter or a sculptress, and +I exhibited my works for the sake of selling them, as I wanted +to buy two little lions, and had not money enough. I sold the +pictures for what they were worth—that is to say, at very +modest prices.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Lady H—— bought my group <cite>After the Storm</cite>. It was +smaller than the large group I had exhibited two years previously +at the Paris Salon, and for which I had received a prize. The +smaller group was in marble, and I had worked at it with the +greatest care. I wanted to sell it for £160, but Lady H—— sent +me £400, together with a charming note, which I venture to +quote. It ran as follows:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do me the favour, Madame, of accepting the enclosed £400 +for your admirable group, <cite>After the Storm</cite>. Will you also do +me the honour of coming to lunch with me, and afterwards you +shall choose for yourself the place where your piece of sculpture +will have the best light.—<span class='sc'>Ethel H.</span>”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was Tuesday, and I was playing in Zaïre that evening, +but Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday I was not acting. I had +money enough now to buy my lions, so without saying a word +at the theatre I started for Liverpool. I knew there was a big +menagerie there, Cross’s Zoo, and that I should find some lions +for sale.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The journey was most amusing, as although I was travelling +incognito, I was recognised all along the route and was made +a great deal of.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Three gentlemen friends and Hortense Damain were with me, +and it was a very lively little trip. I knew that I was not +shirking my duties at the Comédie, as I was not to play again +before Saturday, and this was only Wednesday.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We started in the morning at 10.30, and arrived at Liverpool +about 2.30. We went at once to Cross’s, but could not find the +entrance to the house. We asked a shopkeeper at the corner +of the street, and he pointed to a little door which we had +already opened and closed twice, as we could not believe that +was the entrance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had seen a large iron gateway with a wide courtyard beyond, +and we were in front of a little door leading into quite a small, +bare-looking room, where we found a little man.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Mr. Cross?” we said.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>“That’s my name,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I want to buy some lions,” I then said.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He began to laugh, and then he asked:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you really, Mademoiselle? Are you so fond of animals? +I went to London last week to see the Comédie Française, and +I saw you in <cite>Hernani</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It wasn’t from that you discovered that I like animals?” I +said to him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, it was a man who sells dogs in St. Andrew’s Street who +told me. He said you had bought two dogs from him, and that +if it had not been for a gentleman who was with you, you would +have bought five.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He told me all this in very bad French, but with a great deal +of humour.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, Mr. Cross,” I said, “I want two lions to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I’ll show you what I have,” he replied, leading the way into +the courtyard where the wild beasts were. Oh, what magnificent +creatures they were! There were two superb African lions with +shining coats and powerful-looking tails, which were beating the +air. They had only just arrived and they were in perfect +health, with plenty of courage for rebellion. They knew nothing +of the resignation which is the dominating stigma of civilised +beings.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Mr. Cross,” I said, “these are too big. I want some +young lions!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I haven’t any, Mademoiselle.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, then, show me all your animals.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I saw the tigers, the leopards, the jackals, the cheetahs, the +pumas, and I stopped in front of the elephants. I simply adore +them, and I should have liked to have a dwarf elephant. That +has always been one of my dreams, and perhaps some day I shall +be able to realise it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Cross had not any, though, so I bought a cheetah. It was +quite young and very droll; it looked like a gargoyle on some +castle of the Middle Ages. I also bought a dog-wolf, all white +with a thick coat, fiery eyes, and spear-like teeth. He was +terrifying to look at. Mr. Cross made me a present of six +chameleons which belonged to a small breed and looked like +lizards. He also gave me an admirable chameleon, a prehistoric, +fabulous sort of animal. It was a veritable Chinese curiosity, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>and changed colour from pale green to dark bronze, at one +minute slender and long like a lily leaf, and then all at once +puffed out and thick-set like a toad. Its lorgnette eyes, like +those of a lobster, were quite independent of each other. With +its right eye it would look ahead and with its left eye it looked +backwards. I was delighted and quite enthusiastic over this +present. I named my chameleon “Cross-ci Cross-ça,” in honour +of Mr. Cross.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We returned to London with the cheetah in a cage, the dog-wolf +in a leash, my six little chameleons in a box, and Cross-ci +Cross-ça on my shoulder, fastened to a gold chain we had bought +at a jeweller’s.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had not found any lions, but I was delighted all the same.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My servants were not as pleased as I was. There were already +three dogs in the house: Minniccio, who had accompanied me +from Paris; Bull and Fly, bought in London. Then there +was my parrot Bizibouzou, and my monkey Darwin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Madame Guérard screamed when she saw these new guests +arrive. My steward hesitated to approach the dog-wolf, and it was +all in vain that I assured them that my cheetah was not dangerous. +No one would open the cage, and it was carried out into +the garden. I asked for a hammer in order to open the door +of the cage which had been nailed down, thus keeping the poor +cheetah a prisoner. When my domestics heard me ask for the +hammer they decided to open it themselves. Madame Guérard +and the women servants watched from the windows. Presently +the door burst open, and the cheetah, beside himself with +joy, sprang like a tiger out of his cage, wild with liberty. He +rushed at the trees and made straight for the dogs, who all four +began to howl with terror. The parrot was excited, and uttered +shrill cries; and the monkey, shaking his cage about, gnashed his +teeth to distraction. This concert in the silent square made the +most prodigious effect. All the windows were opened, and more +than twenty faces appeared above my garden wall, all of them +inquisitive, alarmed, or furious. I was seized with a fit of +uncontrollable laughter, and so was my friend Louise Abbema. +Nittis the painter, who had come to call on me, was in the same +state, and so was Gustave Doré, who had been waiting for me ever +since two o’clock. Georges Deschamp, an amateur musician +with a great deal of talent, tried to note down this Hoffmanesque +<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>harmony, whilst my friend Georges Clairin, his back shaking +with laughter, sketched the never-to-be-forgotten scene.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day in London the chief topic of conversation was +the Bedlam that had been let loose at 77 Chester Square. So +much was made of it that our <i><span lang="fr">doyen</span></i>, M. Got, came to beg +me not to make such a scandal, as it reflected on the Comédie +Française. I listened to him in silence, and when he had +finished I took his hands.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come with me and I will show you the scandal,” I said. I +led the way into the garden, followed by my visitor and friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Let the cheetah out!” I said, standing on the steps like a +captain ordering his men to take in a reef.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When the cheetah was free the same mad scene occurred again +as on the previous day.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You see, Monsieur le Doyen,” I said, “this is my Bedlam.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are mad,” he said, kissing me; “but it certainly is +irresistibly comic,” and he laughed until the tears came when he +saw all the heads appearing above the garden wall.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The hostilities continued, though, through scraps of +gossip retailed by one person to another and from one set +to another. The French Press took it up, and so did the +English Press. In spite of my happy disposition and my +contempt for ill-natured tales, I began to feel irritated. Injustice +has always roused me to revolt, and injustice was certainly +having its fling. I could not do a thing that was not watched +and blamed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day I was complaining of this to Madeleine Brohan, whom +I loved dearly. That adorable artiste took my face in her hands, +and looking into my eyes, said:</p> +<div id='i318fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i318fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT<br> <em>From the portrait by Mlle. Louise Abbema</em></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>“My poor dear, you can’t do anything to prevent it. You +are original without trying to be so. You have a dreadful +head of hair that is naturally curly and rebellious, your +slenderness is exaggerated, you have a natural harp in your +throat, and all this makes of you a creature apart, which is +a crime of high treason against all that is commonplace. +That is what is the matter with you physically. Now for +your moral defects. You cannot hide your thoughts, you +cannot stoop to anything, you never accept any compromise, +you will not lend yourself to any hypocrisy—and all that is a +crime of high treason against society. How can you expect +under these conditions not to arouse jealousy, not to wound +people’s susceptibilities, and not to make them spiteful? If +you are discouraged because of these attacks, it will be all +over with you, as you will have no strength left to withstand +them. In that case I advise you to brush your hair, to put oil +on it, and so make it lie as sleek as that of the famous Corsican; +but even that would never do, for Napoleon had such sleek +hair that it was quite original. Well, you might try to +brush your hair as smooth as Prudhon’s,<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c019'><sup>[4]</sup></a> then there would +be no risk for you. I would advise you,” she continued, “to +get a little stouter, and to let your voice break occasionally; +then you would not annoy any one. But if you wish to remain +<em>yourself</em>, my dear, prepare to mount on a little pedestal made of +calumny, scandal, injustice, adulation, flattery, lies, and truths. +When you are once upon it, though, do the right thing, and +cement it by your talent, your work, and your kindness. All +the spiteful people who have unintentionally provided the first +materials for the edifice will kick it then, in hopes of destroying +it. They will be powerless to do this, though, if you choose to +prevent them; and that is just what I hope for you, my dear +Sarah, as you have an ambitious thirst for glory. I cannot +understand that myself, as I only like rest and retirement.”</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f4'> +<p class='c013'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. Prudhon was one of the artistes of the Théâtre Français.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at her with envy, she was so beautiful: with her liquid +eyes, her face with its pure, restful lines, and her weary smile. +I wondered in an uneasy way if happiness were not rather in +this calm tranquillity, in the disdain of all things. I asked her +gently if this were so, for I wanted to know; and she told me +that the theatre bored her, that she had had so many disappointments. +She shuddered when she spoke of her marriage, and as +to her motherhood, that had only caused her sorrow. Her love +affairs had left her with affections crushed and physically disabled. +The light seemed doomed to fade from her beautiful eyes, her +legs were swollen and could scarcely carry her. She told me all +this in the same calm, half weary tone.</p> + +<p class='c013'>What had charmed me only a short time before chilled me to +the heart now, for her dislike to movement was caused by the +weakness of her eyes and her legs, and her delight in retirement +was only the love of that peace which was so necessary to her, +wounded as she was by the life she had lived.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>The love of life, though, took possession of me more violently +than ever. I thanked my dear friend, and profited by her advice. +I armed myself for the struggle, preferring to die in the midst +of the battle rather than to end my life regretting that it had +been a failure. I made up my mind not to weep over the base +things that were said about me, and not to suffer any more +injustices. I made up my mind, too, to stand on the defensive, +and very soon an occasion presented itself.</p> + +<p class='c013'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite> was to be played for the second time at a <i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i>, +June 21, 1879. The day before I had sent word to Mayer that +I was not well, and that as I was playing in <cite>Hernani</cite> at night, I +should be glad if he could change the play announced for the +afternoon if possible. The advance booking, however, was more +than £400, and the committee would not hear of it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh well,” Got said to Mr. Mayer, “we must give the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> to +some one else if Sarah Bernhardt cannot play. There will be +Croizette, Madeleine Brohan, Coquelin, Febvre, and myself in +the cast, and, <i><span lang="fr">que diable!</span></i> it seems to me that all of us together +will make up for Mademoiselle Bernhardt.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Coquelin was requested to ask Lloyd to take my part, as she +had played this <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> at the Comédie when I was ill. Lloyd was +afraid to undertake it, though, and refused. It was decided to +change the play, and <cite><span lang="fr">Tartufe</span></cite> was given instead of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>. +Nearly all the public, however, asked to have their money +refunded, and the receipts, which would have been about £500, +only amounted to £84. All the spite and jealousy now broke +loose, and the whole company of the Comédie, more particularly +the men, with the exception of M. Worms, started a campaign +against me. Francisque Sarcey, as drum-major, beat the measure +with his terrible pen in his hand. The most foolish, slanderous, +and stupid inventions and the most odious lies took their flight +like a cloud of wild ducks, and swooped suddenly down upon all +the newspapers that were against me. It was said that for a +shilling any one might see me dressed as a man; that I smoked +huge cigars, leaning on the balcony of my house; that at the +various receptions where I gave one-act plays I took my maid +with me to play a small part; that I practised fencing in my +garden, dressed as a pierrot in white; and that when taking boxing +lessons I had broken two teeth of my unfortunate professor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Some of my friends advised me to take no notice of all these +<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>turpitudes, assuring me that the public could not possibly +believe them. They were mistaken, though, for the public likes +to believe bad things about any one, as these are always more +amusing than the good things. I soon had a proof that the +English public was beginning to believe what the French papers +said. I received a letter from a tailor asking me if I would +consent to wear a coat of his make when I appeared in masculine +attire, and not only did he offer me this coat for nothing, but +he was willing to pay me a hundred pounds if I would wear it. +This man was an ill-bred person, but he was sincere. I +received several boxes of cigars, and the boxing and fencing +professors wrote to offer their services gratuitously. All this +annoyed me to such a degree that I resolved to put an end to it. +An article by Albert Wolff in the Paris <cite>Figaro</cite> caused me to +take steps to cut matters short.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This is what I wrote in reply to the article in the <cite>Figaro</cite>, +June 27, 1879:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-l c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Albert Wolff</span>, <cite>Figaro</cite>, Paris.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>“And you, too, my dear Monsieur Wolff—you believe in +such insanities? Who can have been giving you such false +information? Yes, you are my friend, though, for in spite of +all the infamies you have been told, you have still a little +indulgence left. Well then, I give you my word of honour +that I have never dressed as a man here in London. I did not +even bring my sculptor costume with me. I give the most +emphatic denial to this misrepresentation. I only went once to +the exhibition which I organised, and that was on the opening +day, for which I had only sent out a few private invitations, so +that no one paid a shilling to see me. It is true that I have +accepted some private engagements to act, but you know that I +am one of the least remunerated members of the Comédie +Française. I certainly have the right, therefore, to try to make +up the difference. I have ten pictures and eight pieces of +sculpture on exhibition. That, too, is quite true, but as I brought +them over here to sell, really I must show them. As to the +respect due to the House of Molière, dear Monsieur Wolff, I lay +claim to keeping that in mind more than any one else, for I am +absolutely incapable of inventing such calumnies for the sake of +slaying one of its standard-bearers. And now, if the stupidities +<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>invented about me have annoyed the Parisians, and if they have +decided to receive me ungraciously on my return, I do not wish +any one to be guilty of such baseness on my account, so I will +send in my resignation to the Comédie Française. If the +London public is tired of all this fuss and should be inclined to +show me ill-will instead of the indulgence hitherto accorded me, +I shall ask the Comédie to allow me to leave England, in order +to spare our company the annoyance of seeing one of its members +hooted at and hissed. I am sending you this letter by wire, as +the consideration I have for public opinion gives me the right to +commit this little folly, and I beg you, dear Monsieur Wolff, to +accord to my letter the same honour as you did to the calumnies +of my enemies.—With very kind regards,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Yours sincerely,</div> + <div class='line in12'>“<span class='sc'>Sarah Bernhardt</span>.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>This telegram caused much ink to flow. Whilst treating me +as a spoiled child, people generally agreed that I was quite right. +The Comédie was most amiable. Perrin, the manager, wrote +me an affectionate letter begging me to give up my idea of +leaving the company. The women were most friendly. Croizette +came to see me, and putting her arms round me, said, “Tell me +you won’t do such a thing, my dear, foolish child! You won’t +really send in your resignation? In the first place; it would not +be accepted, I can answer for that!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mounet-Sully talked to me of art and of probity. His whole +speech savoured of Protestantism. There are several Protestant +pastors in his family, and this influenced him unconsciously. +Delaunay, surnamed Father Candour, came solemnly to inform +me of the bad impression my telegram had made. He told me +that the Comédie Française was a Ministry; that there was the +Minister, the secretary, the sub-chiefs and the <em>employés</em>, and +that each one must conform to the rules and bring in his +share either of talent or work, and so on and so on. I saw +Coquelin at the theatre in the evening. He came to me with +outstretched hands.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You know I can’t compliment you,” he said, “on your rash +action, but with good luck we shall make you change your mind. +When one has the good fortune and the honour of belonging +<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>to the Comédie Française, one must remain there until the end +of one’s career.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Frédéric Febvre pointed out to me that I ought to stay with +the Comédie, because it would save money for me, and I was +quite incapable of doing that myself.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Believe me,” he said, “when we are with the Comédie we +must not leave; it means our bread provided for us later on.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Got, our <i><span lang="fr">doyen</span></i>, then approached me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do you know what you are doing in sending in your resignation?” +he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No,” I replied.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Deserting.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You are mistaken,” I answered; “I am not deserting: I am +changing barracks.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Others then came to me, and they all gave me advice tinged +by their own personality: Mounet as a seer or believer; +Delaunay prompted by his bureaucratic soul; Coquelin as a +politician blaming another person’s ideas, but extolling them +later on and putting them into practice for his own profit; +Febvre, a lover of respectability; Got, as a selfish old growler +understanding nothing but the orders of the powers that be +and advancement as ordained on hierarchical lines. Worms +said to me in his melancholy way:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will they be better towards you elsewhere?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Worms had the most dreamy soul and the most frank, +straightforward character of any member of our illustrious +company. I liked him immensely.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were about to return to Paris, and I wanted to forget +all these things for a time. I was in a hesitating mood. I +postponed taking a definite decision. The stir that had been +made about me, the good that had been said in my favour +and the bad things written against me—all this combined had +created in the artistic world an atmosphere of battle. When +on the point of leaving for Paris some of my friends felt very +anxious about the reception which I should get there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The public is very much mistaken in imagining that the agitation +made about celebrated artistes is in reality instigated by the +persons concerned, and that they do it purposely. Irritated at +seeing the same name constantly appearing on every occasion, +the public declares that the artiste who is being either slandered +<span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>or pampered is an ardent lover of publicity. Alas! three times +over alas! We are victims of the said advertisement. Those +who know the joys and miseries of celebrity when they have +passed the age of forty know how to defend themselves. They +are at the beginning of a series of small worries, thunderbolts +hidden under flowers, but they know how to hold in check that +monster advertisement. It is a sort of octopus with innumerable +tentacles. It throws out on the right and on the left, +in front and behind, its clammy arms, and gathers in through +its thousand little inhaling organs all the gossip and slander +and praise afloat, to spit out again at the public when it is +vomiting its black gall. But those who are caught in the +clutches of celebrity at the age of twenty know nothing. I +remember that the first time a reporter came to me I drew +myself up straight and was as red as a cock’s-comb with joy. I +was just seventeen years old—I had been acting in a private house, +and had taken the part of Richelieu with immense success. +This gentleman came to call on me at home, and asked me first +one question and then another and then another. I answered +and chattered, and was wild with pride and excitement. He +took notes, and I kept looking at my mother. It seemed to me +that I was getting taller. I had to kiss my mother by way of +keeping my composure, and I hid my face on her shoulder to +hide my delight. Finally the gentleman rose, shook hands with +me, and then took his departure. I skipped about in the room +and began to turn round singing, <i><span lang="fr">Trois petits pâtés, ma chemise +brûle</span></i>, when suddenly the door opened and the gentleman said +to mamma, “Oh, Madame, I forgot, this is the receipt for the +subscription to the journal. It is a mere nothing, only sixteen +francs a year.” Mamma did not understand at first. As for +me, I stood still with my mouth open, unable to digest my +<i><span lang="fr">petits pâtés</span></i>. Mamma then paid the sixteen francs, and in her +pity for me, as I was crying by that time, she stroked my hair +gently. Since then I have been delivered over to the monster, +bound hand and foot, and I have been and still am accused of +adoring advertisement. And to think that my first claims to +celebrity were my extraordinary thinness and delicate health. +I had scarcely made my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> when epigrams, puns, jokes, and +caricatures concerning me were indulged in by every one to +their heart’s content. Was it really for the sake of advertising +myself that I was so thin, so small, so weak; and was it for this, +too, that I remained in bed six months of the year, laid low by +illness? My name became celebrated before I was myself.</p> +<div id='i324fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i324fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT<br> <em>From the portrait by Jules Bastien-Lepage</em></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>On the first night of Louis Bouilhet’s piece, <cite><span lang="fr">Mademoiselle Aïssé</span></cite>, +at the Odéon, Flaubert, who was an intimate friend of the author, +introduced an <i><span lang="fr">attaché</span></i> of the British Embassy to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I have known you for some time, Mademoiselle,” he +said; “you are the little stick with the sponge on the top.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This caricature of me had just appeared, and had been the +delight of idle folks. I was quite a young girl at that time, +and nothing of that kind hurt me or troubled me. In the first +place, all the doctors had given me up, so that I was indifferent +about things; but all the doctors were mistaken, and twenty +years later I had to fight against the monster.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXIX<br> <span class='large'>THE COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE RETURNS TO PARIS—SARAH BERNHARDT’S COMMENTS ON ACTORS AND ACTRESSES OF THE DAY</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The return of the Comédie to its home was an event, but +an event that was kept quiet. Our departure from Paris had been +very lively and gay, and quite a public function. Our return +was clandestine for many of the members, and for me among the +number. It was a doleful return for those who had not been +appreciated, whilst those who had been failures were furious.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had not been back home an hour when Perrin was +announced. He began to reproach me gently about the little +care I took of my health. He said I caused too much fuss to be +made about me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But,” I exclaimed, “is it my fault if I am too thin? Is +it my fault, too, if my hair is too curly, and if I don’t +think just as other people do? Supposing that I took sufficient +arsenic during a month to make me swell out like a +barrel, and supposing I were to shave my head like an Arab +and only answer, ‘Yes’ to everything you said, people would +declare I did it for advertisement.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, my dear child,” answered Perrin, “there are people +who are neither fat nor thin, neither close shaven nor with +shocks of hair, and who answer ‘Yes’ and ‘No.’”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was simply petrified by the justice and reason of this remark, +and I understood the “because” of all the “whys” I had been +asking myself for some years. There was no happy medium +about me; I was “too much” and “too little,” and I felt that +there was nothing to be done for this. I owned it to Perrin, and +told him that he was quite right. He took advantage of my +mood to lecture me and advise me not to put in an appearance +<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>at the opening ceremony that was soon to take place +at the Comédie. He feared a cabal against me. Some people +were rather excited, rightly or wrongly—a little of both, he +added, in that shrewd and courteous way which was peculiar to +him. I listened to him without interrupting, which slightly +embarrassed him, for Perrin was an arguer but not an orator. +When he had finished I said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You have told me too many things that excite me, +Monsieur Perrin. I love a battle, and I shall appear at the +ceremony. You see, I have already been warned about it. Here +are three anonymous letters. Read this one; it is the nicest.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He unfolded the letter, which was perfumed with amber, and +read as follows:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>My poor Skeleton</span>,—You will do well not to show your +horrible Jewish nose at the opening ceremony the day after to-morrow. I fear that it would serve as a target for all the +potatoes that are now being cooked specially for you in your +kind city of Paris. Have some paragraphs put in the papers to +the effect that you have been spitting blood, and remain in bed +and think over the consequence of excessive advertisement.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>A Subscriber</span>.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin pushed the letter away from him in disgust.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Here are two more,” I said; “but they are so coarse that I +will spare you. I shall go to the opening ceremony.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good!” replied Perrin. “There is a rehearsal to-morrow. +Shall you come?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I shall come,” I answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The next day at the rehearsal not one of the artistes, man +or woman, seemed to care about going on to the stage to bow +with me. I must say, though, that they all showed nevertheless +much good grace. I declared, however, that I would go on +alone, although it was against the rule, for I thought I ought +to face the ill humour and the cabal alone.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The house was crowded when the curtain rose.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The ceremony commenced in the midst of “Bravos!” The +public was delighted to see its beloved artistes again. They +advanced two by two, one on the right and the other on the left, +holding the palm or the crown to be placed on the pedestal of +Molière’s bust. My turn came, and I advanced alone. I felt that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>I was pale and then livid, with a will that was determined +to conquer. I went forward slowly towards the footlights, but +instead of bowing as my comrades had done, I stood up erect and +gazed with my two eyes into all the eyes turning towards me. I +had been warned of the battle, and I did not wish to provoke it, +but I would not fly from it. I waited a second, and I felt the +thrill and the emotion that ran through the house; and then, +suddenly stirred by an impulse of generous kindliness, the whole +house burst into wild applause and shouts. The public, so +beloved and so loving, was intoxicated with joy. That evening +was certainly one of the finest triumphs of my whole career.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Some artistes were delighted, especially the women, for there +is one thing to remark with regard to our art: the men are more +jealous of the women than the women are amongst themselves. +I have met with many enemies among male comedians, and +with very few among actresses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I think that the dramatic art is essentially feminine.</p> + +<p class='c013'>To paint one’s face, to hide one’s real feelings, to try to please +and to endeavour to attract attention—these are all faults +for which we blame women and for which great indulgence +is shown. These same defects seem odious in a man. And yet +the actor must endeavour to be as attractive as possible, even if +he is obliged to have recourse to paint and to false beard and +hair. He may be a Republican, and he must uphold with +warmth and conviction Royalist theories. He may be a +Conservative, and must maintain anarchist principles, if such +be the good pleasure of the author.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the Théâtre Français poor Maubant was a most advanced +Radical, and his stature and handsome face doomed him to play +the parts of kings, emperors, and tyrants. As long as the rehearsals +went on Charlemagne or Cæsar could be heard swearing +at tyrants, cursing the conquerors, and claiming the hardest +punishments for them. I thoroughly enjoyed this struggle +between the man and the actor. Perhaps this perpetual abstraction +from himself gives the comedian a more feminine nature. +However that may be, it is certain that the actor is jealous of +the actress. The courtesy of the well-educated man vanishes +before the footlights, and the comedian who in private life +would render a service to a woman in any difficulty will pick a +quarrel with her on the stage. He would risk his life to save +<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>her from any danger in the road, on the railway, or in a boat, +but when once on the boards he will not do anything to help +her out of a difficulty. If her memory should fail, or if she +should make a false step, he would not hesitate to push her. I +am going a long way, perhaps, but not so far as people may +think. I have performed with some celebrated comedians who +have played me some bad tricks. On the other hand, there are +some actors who are admirable, and who are more men than +comedians when on the stage. Pierre Berton, Worms, and +Guitry are, and always will be, the most perfect models of +friendly and protecting courtesy towards the woman comedian. +I have played in a number of pieces with each of them, and, +subject as I am to stage fright, I have always felt perfect +confidence when acting with these three artistes. I knew that +their intelligence was of a high order, that they had pity on me +for my fright, and that they would be prepared for any +nervous weaknesses caused by it. Pierre Berton and Worms, +both of them very great artistes, left the stage in full artistic +vigour and vital strength, Pierre Berton to devote himself to +literature, and Worms—no one knows why. As to Guitry, +much the youngest of the three, he is now the first artist on the +French stage, for he is an admirable comedian and at the same +time an artist, a very rare thing. I know very few artistes in +France or in other countries with these two qualities combined. +Henry Irving was an admirable artist, but not a comedian. +Coquelin is an admirable comedian, but he is not an artist. +Mounet-Sully has genius, which he sometimes places at the +service of the artist and sometimes at the service of the comedian; +but, on the other hand, he sometimes gives us exaggerations as +artist and comedian which make lovers of beauty and truth +gnash their teeth. Bartet is a perfect <i><span lang="fr">comédienne</span></i> with a very +delicate artistic sense. Réjane is the most comedian of comedians, +and an artist when she wishes to be.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Eleonora Duse is more a comedian than an artist; she walks +in paths that have been traced out by others; she does not +imitate them, certainly not, for she plants flowers where there +were trees, and trees where there were flowers; but she has never +by her art made a single personage stand out identified by her +name; she has not created a being or a vision which reminds +one of herself. She puts on other people’s gloves, but she puts +<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>them on inside out. And all this she has done with infinite +grace and with careless unconsciousness. She is a great comedian, +a very great comedian, but not a great artist.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Novelli is a comedian of the old school which did not trouble +much about the artistic side. He is perfect in laughter and +tears. Beatrice Patrick Campbell is especially an artist, and her +talent is that of charm and thought: she execrates beaten paths; +she wants to create, and she creates. Antoine is often betrayed +by his own powers, for his voice is heavy and his general appearance rather ordinary. As a comedian there is therefore +often much to be desired, but he is always an artist without +equal, and our art owes much to him in its evolution in the +direction of truth. Antoine, too, is not jealous of the actress.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXX<br> <span class='large'>MY DEPARTURE FROM THE COMÉDIE FRANAÇISE—PREPARATIONS FOR MY FIRST AMERICAN TOUR—ANOTHER VISIT TO LONDON</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The days which followed the return of the Comédie to its own +home were very trying for me. Our manager wanted to subdue +me, and he tortured me with a thousand little pin-pricks which +were much more painful for a nature like mine than so many +stabs with a knife. (At least I imagine so, as I have never had +any.) I became irritable, bad-tempered on the slightest provocation, +and was in fact ill. I had always been gay, and now +I was sad. My health, which had ever been feeble, was +endangered by this state of chaos.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Perrin gave me the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of the <cite><span lang="fr">Aventurière</span></cite> to study. I +detested the piece, and did not like the part, and I considered +the lines of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite> very bad poetry indeed. As I cannot +dissimulate well, in a fit of temper I said this straight out to +Emile Augier, and he avenged himself in a most discourteous +way on the first opportunity that presented itself. This was on +the occasion of my definite rupture with the Comédie Française, +the day after the first performance of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite> on Saturday, +April 17, 1880. I was not ready to play my part, and the +proof of this was a letter I wrote to M. Perrin on April 14, 1880.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“I regret very much, my dear Monsieur Perrin,” I said, “but +I have such a sore throat that I cannot speak, and am obliged +to stay in bed. Will you kindly excuse me? It was at that +wretched Trocadéro that I took cold on Sunday. I am very +much worried, as I know it will cause you inconvenience. Anyhow, +I will be ready for Saturday, whatever happens. A thousand +excuses and kind regards.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Sarah Bernhardt</span>.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>I was able to play, as I had recovered from my sore throat, but +I had not studied my part during the three days, as I could not +speak. I had not been able to try on my costumes either, as I +had been in bed all the time. On Friday I went to ask Perrin to +put off the performance of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite> until the next week. +He replied that it was impossible; that every seat was booked, +and that the piece had to be played the following Tuesday for +the subscription night. I let myself be persuaded to act, as I +had confidence in my star.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” I said to myself, “I shall get through it all right.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not get through it, though, or rather I came through it +very badly. My costume was a failure; it did not fit me. They +had always jeered at me for my thinness, and in this dress I +looked like an English tea-pot. My voice was still rather hoarse, +which very much disconcerted me. I played the first part of +the <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> very badly, and the second part rather better. At a +certain moment during the scene of violence I was standing up +resting my two hands on the table, on which there was a lighted +candelabra. There was a cry raised in the house, for my hair +was very near to the flame. The following day one of the papers +said that, as I felt things were all going wrong, I wanted to set +my hair on fire so that the piece should come to an end before I +failed completely. That was certainly the very climax of +stupidity. The Press did not praise me, and the Press was quite +right. I had played badly, looked ugly, and been in a bad +temper, but I considered that there was nevertheless a want of +courtesy and indulgence with regard to me. Auguste Vitu, in +the <cite>Figaro</cite> of April 18, 1880, finished his article with the phrase: +“The new Clorinde (the Adventuress) in the last two acts made +some gestures with her arms and movements of her body which +one regrets to see taken from Virginie of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Assommoir</span></cite> and +introduced at the Comédie Française.” The only fault which I +never have had, which I never shall have, is vulgarity. That +was an injustice and a determination to hurt my feelings. Vitu +was no friend of mine, but I understood from this way of attacking +me that petty hatreds were lifting up their rattlesnake +heads. All the low-down, little viper world was crawling about +under my flowers and my laurels. I had known what was going +on for a long time, and sometimes I had heard rattling behind +the scenes. I wanted to have the enjoyment of hearing them +<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>all rattle together, and so I threw my laurels and my flowers to +the four winds of heaven. In the most abrupt way I broke the +contract which bound me to the Comédie Française, and through +that to Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I shut myself up all the morning, and after endless discussions +with myself I decided to send in my resignation to the Comédie. +I therefore wrote to M. Perrin this letter:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-l c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>To the Director</span>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>“You have compelled me to play when I was not ready. +You have only allowed me eight rehearsals on the stage, and the +play has been rehearsed in its entirety only three times. I was +unwilling to appear before the public. You insisted absolutely. +What I foresaw has happened. The result of the performance +has surpassed my anticipations. A critic pretended that I +played Virginie of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Assommoir</span></cite> instead of Dona Clorinde of +<cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite>. May Emile Augier and Zola absolve me! It is +my first rebuff at the Comédie; it shall be my last. I warned +you on the day of the dress rehearsal. You have gone too far. +I keep my word. By the time you receive this letter I shall have +left Paris. Will you kindly accept my immediate resignation, +and believe me</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Yours sincerely,</div> + <div class='line in8'>“<span class='sc'>Sarah Bernhardt</span>.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>In order that this resignation might not be refused at the +committee meeting, I sent copies of my letter to the <cite><span lang="fr">Gaulois</span></cite> and +the <cite>Figaro</cite>, and it was published at the same time as M. Perrin +received it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then, quite decided not to be influenced by anybody, I set off +at once with my maid for Hâvre. I had left orders that no one +was to be told where I was, and the first evening I was there I +passed in strict incognito. But the next morning I was recognised, +and telegrams were sent to Paris to that effect. I was +besieged by reporters.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took refuge at La Hêve, where I spent the whole day on the +beach, in spite of the cold rain which fell unceasingly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went back to the Hôtel Frascati frozen, and in the night I +was so feverish that Dr. Gibert was requested to call. Madame +Guérard, who was sent for by my alarmed maid, came at once. +I was feverish for two days. During this time the newspapers +<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>continued to pour out a flood of ink on paper. This turned to +bitterness, and I was accused of the worst misdeeds. The committee +sent a <i><span lang="fr">huissier</span></i> to my hotel in the Avenue de Villiers, +and this man declared that after having knocked three times +at the door and having received no answer, he had left copy, &c. +&c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This man was lying. In the hotel there were my son and his +tutor, my steward, the husband of my maid, my butler, the cook, +the kitchen-maid, the second lady’s maid, and five dogs; but it +was all in vain that I protested against this minion of the law; +it was useless.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Comédie must, according to the rules, send me three +summonses. This was not done, and a law-suit was commenced +against me. It was lost in advance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Maître Allou, the advocate of the Comédie Française, +invented wicked little histories about me. He took pleasure in +trying to make me ridiculous. He had a big file of letters from +me to Perrin, letters which I had written in softer moments or +in anger. Perrin had kept them all, even the shortest notes. I +had kept none of his. The few letters from Perrin to myself +which have been published were given by him from his letter-copy +book. Of course, he only showed those which could inspire +the public with an idea of his paternal kindness to me, &c. +&c.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The pleading of Maître Allou was very, successful: he claimed +three hundred thousand francs damages, in addition to the +confiscation for the benefit of the Comédie Française of the +forty-three thousand francs which that theatre owed me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Maître Barboux was my advocate. He was an intimate friend +of Perrin. He defended me very indifferently. I was condemned +to pay a hundred thousand francs to the Comédie Française and +to lose the forty-three thousand francs which I had left with the +management. I may say that I did not trouble much about this +law-suit.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Three days after my resignation Jarrett called upon me. He +proposed to me, for the third time, to make a contract for +America. This time I lent an ear to his propositions. We had +never spoken about terms, and this is what he proposed:</p> +<div id='i334fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i334fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT (1879)</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>Five thousand francs for each performance and one-half of the +receipts above fifteen thousand francs; that is to say, the day +the receipts reached the sum of twenty thousand francs I +should receive seven thousand five hundred francs. In addition, +one thousand francs per week for my hotel bill; also a special +Pullman car, on all railway journeys, containing a bedroom, +a drawing-room with a piano, four beds for my staff, and +two cooks to cook for me on the way. Mr. Jarrett was to have +ten per cent. on all sums received by me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I accepted everything. I was anxious to leave Paris. Jarrett +immediately sent a telegram to Mr. Abbey, the great American +<i><span lang="fr">impresario</span></i>, and he landed on this side thirteen days later. I +signed the contract made by Jarrett, which was discussed clause +by clause with the American manager.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was given, on signing the contract, one hundred thousand +francs as advance payment for my expenses before departure. I +was to play eight pieces: <cite><span lang="fr">Hernani</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Phèdre</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Adrienne Lecouvreur</span></cite>, +<cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, and +<cite><span lang="fr">La Princesse Georges</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I ordered twenty-five modern dresses at Laferrière’s, of whom +I was then a customer.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At Baron’s I ordered six costumes for <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite> +and four costumes for <cite>Hernani</cite>. I ordered from a young +theatre <i><span lang="fr">costumier</span></i> named Lepaul my costume for <cite>Phèdre</cite>. +These thirty-six costumes cost me sixty-one thousand francs; +but out of this my costume for <cite>Phèdre</cite> alone cost four thousand +francs. The poor <i><span lang="fr">artist-costumier</span></i> had embroidered it himself. +It was a marvel. It was brought to me two days before my +departure, and I cannot think of this moment without emotion. +Irritated by long waiting, I was writing an angry letter to the +<i><span lang="fr">costumier</span></i> when he was announced. At first I received him +very badly, but I found him looking so unwell, the poor man, +that I made him sit down and asked how he came to be so ill.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, I am not at all well,” he said in such a weak voice +that I was quite upset. “I wanted to finish this dress, and I +have worked at it three days and nights. But look how nice +your costume is!” And he spread it out with loving respect +before me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Look!” remarked Guérard, “a little spot!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, I pricked myself,” answered the poor artist quickly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But I had just caught sight of a drop of blood at the corner +of his lips. He wiped it quickly away, so that it should not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>fall on the pretty costume as the other little spot had done. +I gave the artist the four thousand francs, which he took with +trembling hands. He murmured some unintelligible words and +withdrew.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Take away this costume, take it away!” I cried to <i><span lang="fr">mon +petit Dame</span></i> and my maid. And I cried so much that I had the +hiccoughs all the evening. Nobody understood why I was +crying. But I reproached myself bitterly for having worried +the poor man. It was plain that he was dying. And by the +force of circumstances I had unwittingly forged the first link +of the chain of death which was dragging to the tomb this +youth of twenty-two—this artist with a future before him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I would never wear this costume. It is still in its box, +yellowed with age. Its gold embroidery is tarnished by time, +and the little spot of blood has slightly eaten away the stuff. +As to the poor artist, I learnt of his death during my stay in +London in the month of May, for before leaving for America +I signed with Hollingshead and Mayer, the <i><span lang="fr">impresarii</span></i> of the +Comédie, a contract which bound me to them from May 24 +to June 24 (1880).</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was during this period that the law-suit which the +Comédie Française brought against me was decided.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Maître Barboux did not consult me about anything, and my +success in London, which was achieved without the help of the +Comédie, irritated the committee, the Press, and the public.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Maître Allou in his pleadings pretended that the London +public had tired of me very quickly, and did not care to come to +the performances of the Comédie in which I appeared.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following list gives the best possible denial to the +assertions of Maître Allou:</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr><th class='c022' colspan='4'>PERFORMANCES GIVEN BY THE COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE AT THE GAIETY THEATRE</th></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'> </td> + <td class='c009'> </td> + <td class='c010'> </td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c022' colspan='4'>(The * indicates the pieces in which I appeared.)</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'> </td> + <td class='c009'> </td> + <td class='c010'> </td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <th class='c023' colspan='2'>1879.</th> + <th class='c023'>Plays.</th> + <th class='c024'>Receipts in Francs.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>June</td> + <td class='c009'>2.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Misanthrope (Prologue); Phèdre (Acte II.); Les Précieuses Ridicules</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,080</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>3.</td> + <td class='c010'>L’Etrangère</td> + <td class='c011'>*12,565</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>4.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Fils naturel</td> + <td class='c011'>9,300</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'><span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>„</td> + <td class='c009'>5.</td> + <td class='c010'>Les Caprices de Marianne; La Joie fait Peur</td> + <td class='c011'>10,100</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>6.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Menteur; Le Médecin malgré lui</td> + <td class='c011'>9,530</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>7.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Marquis de Villemer</td> + <td class='c011'>9,960</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>7.</td> + <td class='c010'>Tartufe (matinée); La Joie fait Peur</td> + <td class='c011'>8,700</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>9.</td> + <td class='c010'>Hernani</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,600</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>10.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Demi-monde</td> + <td class='c011'>11,525</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>11.</td> + <td class='c010'>Mlle. de Belle-Isle; Il faut qu’une porte soit ouverte ou fermée</td> + <td class='c011'>10,420</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>12.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Post-Scriptum; Le Gendre de M. Poirier</td> + <td class='c011'>10,445</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>13.</td> + <td class='c010'>Phèdre</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,920</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>14.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Luthier de Crémône; Le Sphinx</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,350</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>14.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Misanthrope (matinée); Les Plaideurs</td> + <td class='c011'>8,800</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>16.</td> + <td class='c010'>L’Ami Fritz</td> + <td class='c011'>9,375</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>17.</td> + <td class='c010'>Zaïre; Les Précieuses Ridicules</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,075</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>18.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Jeu de l’amour et du hasard; Il ne faut jurer de rien</td> + <td class='c011'>11,550</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>18.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Demi-monde</td> + <td class='c011'>12,160</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>20.</td> + <td class='c010'>Les Fourchambault</td> + <td class='c011'>11,200</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>21.</td> + <td class='c010'>Hernani</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,375</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>21.</td> + <td class='c010'>Tartufe (matinée); Il faut qu’une porte soit ouverte ou fermée</td> + <td class='c011'>2,115</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>23.</td> + <td class='c010'>Gringoire; On ne badine pas avec l’amour</td> + <td class='c011'>11,080</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>24.</td> + <td class='c010'>Chez l’avocat; Mlle. de la Seiglière</td> + <td class='c011'>9,660</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>25.</td> + <td class='c010'>L’Etrangère (matinée)</td> + <td class='c011'>*11,710</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>25.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Barbier de Seville</td> + <td class='c011'>9,180</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>26.</td> + <td class='c010'>Andromaque; Les Plaideurs</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,350</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>27.</td> + <td class='c010'>L’Avare; L’Etincelle</td> + <td class='c011'>11,775</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>28.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Sphinx; Le Dépit amoureux</td> + <td class='c011'>*12,860</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>28.</td> + <td class='c010'>Hernani (matinée)</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,730</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>30.</td> + <td class='c010'>Ruy Blas</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,660</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>July</td> + <td class='c009'>1.</td> + <td class='c010'>Mercadet; L’Eté de la St. Martin</td> + <td class='c011'>9,850</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>2.</td> + <td class='c010'>Ruy Blas</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,160</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>3.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Mariage de Victorine; Les Fourberies de Scapin</td> + <td class='c011'>10,165</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>4.</td> + <td class='c010'>Les Femmes savantes; L’Etincelle</td> + <td class='c011'>11,960</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>5.</td> + <td class='c010'>Les Fourchambault</td> + <td class='c011'>10,700</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>5.</td> + <td class='c010'>Phèdre (matinée); La Joie fait Peur</td> + <td class='c011'>*14,265</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>7.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Marquis de Villemer</td> + <td class='c011'>10,565</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>8.</td> + <td class='c010'>L’Ami Fritz</td> + <td class='c011'>11,005</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>9.</td> + <td class='c010'>Hernani</td> + <td class='c011'>*14,275</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>10.</td> + <td class='c010'>Le Sphinx</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,775</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>11.</td> + <td class='c010'>Philiberte; L’Etourdi</td> + <td class='c011'>11,500</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>12.</td> + <td class='c010'>Ruy Blas</td> + <td class='c011'>*12,660</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>„</td> + <td class='c009'>12.</td> + <td class='c010'>Gringoire (matinée); Hernani (Acte V.);La Bénédiction; Davenant; L’Etincelle</td> + <td class='c011'>*13,725</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'> </td> + <td class='c009'> </td> + <td class='c023'>Total receipts     492,150 francs</td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c013'>The average of the receipts was about 11,715 francs. These +figures show that, out of the forty-three performances given +by the Comédie Française, the eighteen performances in which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>I took part gave an average of 13,350 francs each, while the +twenty-five other performances gave an average of 10,000 francs.</p> + +<hr class='c015'> + +<p class='c013'>While I was in London I learned that I had lost my law-suit. +“The Court—with its ‘Inasmuch as,’ ‘Nevertheless,’ &c.—declares hereby that Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt loses all the rights, +privileges, and advantages, resulting to her profit from the +engagement which she contracted with the company by +authentic decree of March 24, 1875, and condemns her to +pay to the plaintiff in his lawful quality the sum of one +hundred thousand francs damages.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I gave my last performance in London the very day that the +papers published this unjust verdict. I was applauded, and the +public overwhelmed me with flowers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had taken with me Madame Devoyod, Mary Jullien, Kalb, +my sister Jeanne, Pierre Berton, Train, Talbot, Dieudonnée—all artistes of great repute.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I played all the pieces which I was to play in America.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Vitu, Sarcey, Lapommeraye had said so much against me that +I was stupefied to learn from Mayer that they had arrived in +London to be present at my performances.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could no longer understand what it all meant. I thought +that the Parisian journalists were leaving me in peace at last, +and here were my worst enemies coming across the sea to see and +hear me. Perhaps they were hoping—like the Englishman who +followed the lion-tamer to see him devoured by his lions!</p> + +<p class='c013'>Vitu in the <cite>Figaro</cite> had finished one of his bitter articles +with these words:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But we have heard enough, surely, of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt! +Let her go abroad with her monotonous voice and her funereal +fantasies! Here we have nothing new to learn from her talents +or her caprices....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sarcey, in an equally bitter article, <i><span lang="fr">à propos</span></i> of my resignation +at the Comédie, had finished in these terms:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There comes a time when naughty children must go to bed.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As to the amiable Lapommeraye, he had showered on my devoted +head all the rumours that he had collected from all sides. +But as they said he had no originality, he tried to show that he +also could dip his pen in venom, and he had cried, “Pleasant +journey!” And here they all came, these three, and +others with them. And the day following my first performance +of <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>, Auguste Vitu telegraphed to the +<cite>Figaro</cite> a long article, in which he criticised me in certain scenes, +regretting that I had not followed the example of Rachel, whom +I had never seen. And he finished his article thus:</p> +<div id='i338fp' class='figcenter id006'> +<img src='images/i338fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic001'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AS “ANDROMAQUE”<br> <br> <span class='sc'>By Walter Spindler</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>“The sincerity of my admiration cannot be doubted when I +avow that in the fifth act Sarah Bernhardt rose to a height of +dramatic power, to a force of expression which could not be surpassed. +She played the long and cruel scene in which Adrienne, +poisoned by the Duchesse de Bouillon, struggles against death +in her fearful agony, not only with immense talent, but with a +science of art which up to the present she has never revealed. +If the Parisian public had heard, or ever hears, Mlle. Sarah +Bernhardt cry out with the piercing accent which she put into +her words that evening, ‘I will not die, I will not die!’ it would +weep with her.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sarcey finished an admirable critique with these words:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“She is prodigious!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And Lapommeraye, who had once more become amiable +begged me to go back to the Comédie, which was waiting for me, +which would kill the fatted calf on the return of its prodigal +child.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sarcey, in his article in the <cite><span lang="fr">Temps</span></cite>, consecrated five columns of +praises to me, and finished his article with these words:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Nothing, nothing can ever take the place of this last act +of <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite> at the Comédie. Ah! she should +have stayed at the Comédie. Yes, I come back to my +litany! I cannot help it! We shall lose as much as she will. +Yes, I know that we can say Mlle. Dudlay is left to us. Oh, she +will always stay with us! I cannot help saying it. What a +pity! What a pity!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And eight days after, on June 7, he wrote in his theatrical +<i><span lang="fr">feuilleton</span></i>, on the first performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I do not think that the emotion at any theatre has ever been +so profound. There are, in the dramatic art, exceptional times +when the artistes are transported out of themselves, carried above +themselves, and compelled to obey this inward ‘demon’ (I +should have said ‘god’), who whispered to Corneille his immortal +verses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“‘Well,’” said I to Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt, after the play: +<span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>“this is an evening which will open to you, if you wish, the doors +of the Comédie Française. ‘Do not speak of it,’ said she, ‘to +me. We will not speak of it.’ But what a pity! What a +pity!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My success in <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite> was so marked that it filled the void +left by Coquelin, who, after having signed, with the consent of +Perrin, with Messrs. Mayer and Hollingshead, declared that he +could not keep his engagements. It was a nasty <i><span lang="fr">coup de Jarnac</span></i> +by which Perrin hoped to injure my London performances. He +had previously sent Got to me to ask officially if I would not +come back to the Comédie. He said I should be permitted to +make my American tour, and that everything would be arranged +on my return. But he should not have sent Got. He should +have sent Worms or <i><span lang="fr">le petit père Franchise</span></i>—Delaunay. The +one might have persuaded me by his affectionate reasoning and +the other by the falsity of arguments presented with such grace +that it would have been difficult to refuse.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Got declared that I should be only too happy to come back +to the Comédie on my return to America, “For you know,” he +added, “you know, my little one, that you will die in that +country. And if you come back you will perhaps be only too +glad to return to the Comédie Française, for you will be in a bad +state of health, and it will take some time before you are right +again. Believe me, sign, and it is not we who will benefit by it, +but you!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I thank you,” I answered, “but I prefer to choose my hospital +myself on my return. And now you can go and leave me +in peace.” I fancy I said, “Get out!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>That evening he was present at a performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>; +he came to my dressing-room and said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You had better sign, believe me! And come back to +commence with <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>! I promise you a happy return!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I refused, and finished my performances in London without +Coquelin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The average of the receipts was nine thousand francs, and +I left London with regret—I who had left it with so much +pleasure the first time. But London is a city apart; its charm +unveils little by little. The first impression for a Frenchman or +woman is that of keen suffering, of mortal <i><span lang="fr">ennui</span></i>. Those tall +houses with sash windows without curtains; those ugly monuments, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>all in mourning with the dust and grime and black and +greasy dirt; those flower-sellers at the corners of all the streets, +with faces sad as the rain and bedraggled feathers in their hats +and lamentable clothing; the black mud of the streets; the low +sky; the funereal mirth of drunken women hanging on to men +just as drunken; the wild dancing of dishevelled children round +the street organs, as numerous as the omnibuses—all that caused +twenty-five years ago an indefinite suffering to a Parisian. But +little by little one finds that the profusion of the squares is +restful to the eyes; that the beauty of the aristocratic ladies +effaces the image of the flower-sellers....</p> + +<p class='c013'>The constant movement of Hyde Park, and especially of +Rotten Row, fills the heart with gaiety. The broad English +hospitality, which is manifested from the first moment of +making an acquaintance; the wit of the men, which compares +favourably with the wit of Frenchmen; and their gallantry, much +more respectful and therefore much more flattering, left no +regrets in me for French gallantry.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But I prefer our pale mud to the London black mud, and our +windows opening in the centre to the horrible sash windows. I find +also that nothing marks more clearly the difference of character +of the two nations than their respective windows. Ours open +wide; the sun enters in our houses even to the heart of the +dwelling; the air sweeps away all the dust and all the microbes. +They shut in the same manner, simply as they open.</p> + +<p class='c013'>English windows open only half-way, either the top half or +the bottom half. One may even have the pleasure of opening +them a little at the top and a little at the bottom, but not at +all in the middle. The sun cannot enter openly, nor the air. +The window keeps its selfish and perfidious character. I hate +the English windows. But now I love London and—is there any +need to add?—its inhabitants.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Since my first visit I have returned there twenty-one times, +and the public has always remained faithful and affectionate.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXI<br> <span class='large'>A TOUR IN DENMARK—ROYAL FAMILIES—THE “TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS” OF SARAH BERNHARDT</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>After this first test of my freedom I felt more sure of life +than before. Although I was very weak of constitution, the +possibility of doing as I wanted without hindrance and without +control calmed my nervous system, and my health, which had +been weakened by perpetual irritations and by excessive work, +was improved. I reposed on the laurels which I had gathered +myself, and I slept better. Sleeping better, I commenced to eat +better. And great was the astonishment of my little court when +they saw their idol come back from London round and rosy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remained several days in Paris; then I set out for Brussels, +where I was to play <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite> and <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Belgian public——by which I mean the Brussels public——is the one most like our own. In Belgium I never feel that I +am in a strange country. Our language is the language of the +country; the horses and carriages are always in perfect taste; +the fashionable women resemble our own fashionable women; +<i><span lang="fr">cocottes</span></i> abound; the hotels are as good as in Paris; the cab-horses +are as poor; the newspapers are as spiteful. Brussels is +gossiping Paris in miniature.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I played for the first time at the Théâtre de la Monnaie, and I +felt uncomfortable in that immense and frigid house. But the +benevolent enthusiasm of the public soon warmed me, and I +shall never forget the four performances I gave there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then I set out for Copenhagen, where I was to give five +performances at the Theatre Royal.</p> +<div id='i342fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i342fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT<br> IN TRAVELLING COSTUME (1880)</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>Our arrival, which doubtless was anxiously expected, really +frightened me. More than two thousand persons who were +assembled in the station when the train came in gave a hurrah +so terrible that I did not know what was happening. But when +M. de Fallesen, manager of the Theatre Royal, and the First +Chamberlain of the King entered my compartment, and begged +me to show myself at the window to gratify the curiosity of the +public, the hurrahs began again, and then I understood. But +a dreadful anxiety now took possession of me. I could never, I +was sure, rise to what was expected from me. My slender frame +would inspire disdain in those magnificent men and those +splendid and healthy women. I stepped out of the train so +diminished by comparison that I had the sensation of being +nothing more than a breath of air; and I saw the crowd, submissive to the police, divide into two compact lines, leaving a +wide path for my carriage. I passed slowly through this double +hedge of sympathetic sight-seers, who threw me flowers and kisses +and lifted their hats to me. In the course of my long career I +have had many triumphs, receptions, and ovations, but my +reception by the Danish people remains one of my most +cherished memories. The living hedge lasted till we reached +the Hôtel d’Angleterre, where I went in, after thanking once +more the sympathetic friends who surrounded me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In the evening the King, the Queen, and their daughter, the +Princess of Wales, were present at the first performance of +<cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This is what the <cite>Figaro</cite> of August 16, 1880, said:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“Sarah Bernhardt has played <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite> with a +tremendous success before a magnificent audience. The royal +family, the King and the Queen of the Hellenes, as well as +the Princess of Wales, were present at the performance. The +Queens threw their bouquets to the French artiste, amidst +applause. It was an unprecedented triumph. The public was +delirious. To-morrow <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite> will be played.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite> was equally successful. But as +I was only playing every other day, I wanted to visit Elsinore. +The King placed the royal steamer at my disposal for this little +journey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had invited all my company.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. de Fallesen, the First Chamberlain, and manager of the +Theatre Royal, had ordered a magnificent lunch for us, and +accompanied by the principal notabilities of Denmark, we visited +<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>Hamlet’s tomb, the spring of Ophelia, and the castle of +Marienlyst. Then we went over the castle of Kronborg. I +regretted my visit to Elsinore. The reality did not come up to +the expectation. The so-called tomb of Hamlet is represented +by a small column, ugly and mournful-looking; there is little +verdure, and the desolate sadness of deceit without beauty. +They gave me a little water from the spring of Ophelia to +drink, and the Baron de Fallesen broke the glass, without +allowing any one else to drink from the spring.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned from this very ordinary journey feeling rather +sad. Leaning against the side of the vessel, I watched the water +gliding past, when I noticed a few rose petals on the surface. +Carried by an invisible current, they were borne against the sides +of the boat; then the petals increased to thousands, and in the +mysterious sunset rose the melodious chant of the sons of the +North. I looked up. In front of us, rocked on the water by the +evening breeze, was a pretty boat with outspread sails; a score of +young men, throwing handfuls of roses into the waters, which were +carried to us by the little wavelets, were singing the marvellous +legends of past centuries. And all that was for me: all those +roses, all that love, all that musical poetry. And that setting +sun was also for me. And in this fleeting moment, which +brought all the beauty of life near to me, I felt myself very +near to God.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following day, at the close of the performance, the King +sent for me to come into the royal box, and he decorated +me with a very pretty Order of Merit adorned with diamonds. +He kept me some time in his box, asking me about different +things. I was presented to the Queen, and I noticed immediately +that she was somewhat deaf. I was rather embarrassed, but the +Queen of Greece came to my rescue. She was beautiful, but +much less so than her lovely sister the Princess of Wales. Oh, +that adorable and seductive face—with the eyes of a child of the +North, and classic features of virginal purity, a long, supple neck +that seemed made for queenly bows, a sweet and almost timid +smile. The indefinable charm of this Princess made her so +radiant that I saw nothing but her, and I went from the box +leaving behind me, I fear, but a poor opinion of my intelligence +with the royal couples of Denmark and Greece.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The evening before my departure I was invited to a grand +<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>supper. Fallesen made a speech, and thanked us in a very +charming manner for the “French week” which we had given +in Denmark.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Robert Walt made a very cordial speech on behalf of the +press, very short but very sympathetic. Our Ambassador in a +few courteous words thanked Robert Walt, and then, to the +general surprise, Baron Magnus, the Prussian Minister, rose, and +in a loud voice, turning to me, he said, “I drink to France, +which gives us such great artistes! To France, la belle France, +whom we all love so much!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Hardly ten years had passed since the terrible war. French +men and women were still suffering; their wounds were not +healed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Baron Magnus, a really amiable and charming man, had from +the time of my arrival in Copenhagen sent me flowers with his +card. I had sent back the flowers, and begged an <i><span lang="fr">attaché</span></i> of the +English Embassy, Sir Francis ——, I believe, to ask the German +baron not to renew his gifts. The Baron laughed good-naturedly, +and waited for me as I came out of my hotel. He came to me +with outstretched hands, and spoke kindly and reasonable words. +Everybody was looking at us, and I was embarrassed. It was +evident that he was a kind man. I thanked him, touched in +spite of myself by his frankness, and I went away quite undecided +as to what I really felt. Twice he renewed his visit, but I did +not receive him, but only bowed as I left my hotel. I was +somewhat irritated at the tenacity of this amiable diplomatist. +On the evening of the supper, when I saw him take the attitude +of an orator, I felt myself grow pale. He had barely finished +his little speech when I jumped to my feet and cried, “Let us +drink to France, but to the whole of France, Monsieur l’Ambassadeur de Prusse!” I was nervous, sensational, and theatrical +without intending it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was like a thunderbolt.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The orchestra of the court, which was placed in the upper +gallery, began playing the “Marseillaise.” At this time the +Danes hated the Germans. The supper-room was suddenly +deserted as if by enchantment.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went up to my rooms, not wishing to be questioned. I had +gone too far. Anger had made me say more than I intended. +Baron Magnus did not deserve this thrust of mine. And also +<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>my instinct forewarned me of results to follow. I went to bed +angry with myself, with the Baron, and with all the world.</p> + +<p class='c013'>About five o’clock in the morning I commenced to doze, when +I was awakened by the growling of my dog. Then I heard +some one knocking at the door of the <i><span lang="fr">salon</span></i>. I called my maid, +who woke her husband, and he went to open the door. An +<i><span lang="fr">attaché</span></i> from the French Embassy was waiting to speak to me on +urgent business. I put on an ermine tea-gown and went to see +the visitor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I beg you,” he said, “to write a note immediately to +explain that the words you said were not meant. The Baron +Magnus, whom we all respect, is in a very awkward situation +and we are all upset about it. Prince Bismarck is not to be +trifled with, and it may be very serious for the Baron.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I assure you, Monsieur, I am a hundredfold more +unhappy about it than you, for the Baron is a good and charming +man. He lacked political tact, and in this case it is +excusable, because I am not a woman of politics. I was lacking +in coolness. I would give my right hand to repair the ill.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We don’t ask you for so much as that, as it would +spoil the beauty of your gestures!” (He was French, you see.) +“Here is the rough copy of a letter. Will you take it, rewrite it, +sign it, and everything will be at an end?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But that was unacceptable. The wording of this letter gave +twisted and rather cowardly explanations. I rejected it, and +after several attempts to rewrite it I gave up in despair and did +nothing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Three hundred persons had been present at the supper, in +addition to the royal orchestra and the attendants. Everybody +had heard the amiable but awkward speech of the Baron. I had +replied in a very excited manner. The public and the Press had +all been witnesses of my <i><span lang="fr">algarade</span></i>; we were the victims of our +own foolishness, the Baron and myself. If such a thing were to +happen at the present time I should not care a pin for public +opinion, and I should even take pleasure in ridiculing myself in +order to do justice to a brave and gallant man. But at that +time I was very nervous and uncompromisingly patriotic. And +also, perhaps, I thought I was some one of importance. Since +then life has taught me that if one is to be famous it can only +really become manifest after death. To-day I am going down +<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>the hill of life, and I regard gaily all the pedestals on which I +have been lifted up, and there have been so many, so many of +them that their fragments, broken by the same hands that had +raised them, have made me a solid pillar, from which I look out +on life, happy with what has been and attentive to what +will be.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My stupid vanity had wounded one who meant no harm, and +this incident has always left in me a feeling of remorse and +chagrin.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left Copenhagen amidst applause and the repeated cries +of “Vive la France!” From all the windows hung the French +flag, fluttering in the breeze, and I felt that this was not only +<em>for</em> me, but <em>against</em> Germany—I was sure of it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Since then the Germans and the Danes are solidly united, +and I am not certain that several Danes do not still bear me +ill-will because of this incident of the Baron Magnus.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I came back to Paris to make final preparations for my journey +to America. I was to set sail on October 15.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day in August I was having a reception of all my friends, +who came to see me in full force, because I was about to set out +for a long journey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Among the number were Girardin, Count Kapenist, Marshal +Canrobert, Georges Clairin, Arthur Meyer, Duquesnel, the +beautiful Augusta Holmes, Raymond de Montbel, Nordenskjold, +O’Connor, and other friends. I chatted gaily, happy to be +surrounded by so many kind and intellectual friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Girardin did all he could to persuade me not to undertake +this journey to America. He had been the friend of Rachel, +and told me the sad end of her journey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Arthur Meyer was of opinion that I ought always to do +what I thought best. The other friends discussed the subject. +That admirable man, whom France will always worship, +Canrobert, said how much he should miss and regret those +intimate <em>causeries</em> at our five o’clock teas.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But,” said he, “we have not the right to try, in our +affectionate selfishness, to hinder our young friend from doing +all she can in the strife. She is of a combative nature.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah yes!” I cried. “Yes, I am born for strife, I feel it. +Nothing pleases me like having to master a public, perhaps +hostile, who have read and heard all that the Press has said +<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>against me. But I am sorry that I cannot play, not only +in Paris but in all France, my two big successes, <cite>Adrienne</cite> and +<cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“As to that, you can count on me!” exclaimed Félix +Duquesnel. “My dear Sarah, you had your first successes with +me, and it is with me that you will have your last....”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Everybody protested, and I jumped up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Wait one moment,” said he. “Last successes until you come +back from America! If you will consent, you can count on me +for everything. I will obtain, at any price, theatres in all the +large towns, and we will give twenty-five performances during the +month of September. As to financial arrangements, they will +be of the simplest: twenty-five performances—fifty thousand +francs. To-morrow I will give you one half of this sum, and +sign a contract with you, so that you will not have time to +change your mind.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I clapped my hands joyfully. All the friends who were there +begged Duquesnel to send them, as soon as possible, an itinerary +of the tour, for they all wanted to see me in the two plays in +which I had gained laurels in England, Belgium, and Denmark.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Duquesnel promised to send them the details of the tour, and +it was settled that their visits should be drawn by lot from a +little bag, and each town marked with the date and the name of +the play.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A week later Duquesnel, with whom I had signed a contract, +returned with the tour mapped out and all the company +engaged. It was almost miraculous.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The performances were to commence on Saturday, September 4, +and there were to be twenty-five of them; and the whole, including +the day of departure and the day of return, was to last +twenty-eight days, which caused this tour to be called “The +twenty-eight days of Sarah Bernhardt,” like the twenty-eight +days of a citizen who is obliged to accomplish his military +service.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The little tour was most successful, and I never enjoyed +myself more than during this artistic promenade. Duquesnel +organised excursions and <i><span lang="fr">fêtes</span></i> outside the towns.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At first he had prepared, thinking to please me, some visits +to the sights of the towns. He had written beforehand from +Paris fixing dates and hours. The guardians of the different +<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>museums, art galleries, &c., had offered to point out to me the +finest objects in their collections, and the mayors had prepared +visits to the churches and celebrated buildings.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When, on the eve of our departure, he showed us the heap +of letters, each giving a most amiable affirmative, I shrieked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I hate seeing public buildings and having them explained +to me. I know most of the public sights of France, but I have +visited them when I felt inclined and with my own chosen +friends. As to the churches and other buildings, I find them +very tiresome. I cannot help it—it really wearies me to see +them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I can admire their outline in passing, or when I see them +silhouetted against the setting sun, that is all right, but further +than that I will not go. The idea of entering these cold spaces, +while some one explains their absurd and interminable history, of +looking up at their ceilings with craning neck, of cramping my +feet by walking unnaturally over highly waxed floors, of being +obliged to admire the restoration of the left wing that they +would have done better to let crumble to ruins; to have some +one express wonder at the depth of some moat which once upon +a time used to be full of water, but is now as dry as the east +wind—all that is so tiresome it makes me want to howl. From +my earliest childhood I have always detested houses, castles, +churches, towers, and all buildings higher than a mill. I love +low buildings, farms, huts, and I positively adore mills, because +these little buildings do not obstruct the horizon. I have +nothing to say against the Pyramids, but I would a hundred +times rather they had never been built.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I begged Duquesnel to send telegrams at once to all the +notabilities who had been so obliging. We passed two hours +over this task, and on September 3, I set out, free, joyful, and +content.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My friends came to see me while I was on tour, in accordance +with the lots they had drawn, and we had picnics by coach into +the surrounding country from all the towns in which I played.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I came back to Paris on September 30, and had only just time +to prepare for my journey to America. I had only been a week +in Paris when I had a visit from M. Bertrand, who was then +director of the Variétés. His brother was director of the +Vaudeville in partnership with Raymond Deslandes.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>I did not know Eugène Bertrand, but I received him at once, +for we had mutual friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What are you going to do when you come back from +America?” he asked me, after we had exchanged greetings.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I really don’t know. Nothing. I have not thought of +anything.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, I have thought of something for you. And if you +like to make your reappearance in Paris in a play of Victorien +Sardou’s, I will sign with you at once for the Vaudeville.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah!” I cried. “The Vaudeville! What are you thinking +of? Raymond Deslandes is the manager, and he hates me like +poison because I ran away from the Gymnase the day following +the first performance of his play <cite><span lang="fr">Un mari qui lance sa femme</span></cite>. +His play was ridiculous, and I was even more ridiculous than his +play in the part of a young Russian lady addicted to dancing +and eating sandwiches. That man will never engage me!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He smiled. “My brother is the partner of Raymond +Deslandes. My brother—to put it plainly—is myself. All the +money put in the affair by us is mine. I am the sole master. +What salary do you want?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But—— I really don’t know.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will fifteen hundred francs per performance suit you?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I looked at him in stupefaction, not quite sure if he was in +his right mind.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, Monsieur, if I do not succeed you will lose money, and +I cannot agree to that.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do not be afraid,” he said. “I can assure you it will be a +success—a colossal success. Will you sign? And I will also +guarantee you fifty performances!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no, never! I will sign willingly, for I admire the talent +of Victorien Sardou, but I do not want any guarantee. Success +will depend on Victorien Sardou, and after him on me. So I +sign, and thank you for your confidence.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>At my afternoon teas I showed the new contract to my friends, +and they were all of opinion that luck was on my side in the +matter of my resignation (from the Comédie Française).</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was to leave Paris in three days. My heart was sore +at the idea of leaving France, for many sorrowful reasons. But +in these Memoirs I have put on one side all that touches the +inner part of my life. There is one family “me” which lives +<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>another life, and whose sensations, sorrows, joys, and griefs are +born and die for a very small number of hearts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But I felt the need of another atmosphere, of vaster space, of +other skies.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left my little boy with my uncle, who had five boys of his +own. His wife was rather a strict Protestant, but kind, and my +cousin Louise, their eldest daughter, was witty and highly intelligent. +She promised me to be on the watch, and to let me know +at once if there was anything I ought to know.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Up to the last moment people in Paris did not believe that I +would really go. My health was so uncertain that it seemed +folly to undertake such a journey. But when it became absolutely +certain that I was going, there was a general concert of spiteful +reproaches. The hue and cry of my enemies was in full swing. +I have now under my eyes these specimens of insanity, calumnies, +lies, and stupidities; burlesque portraits, doleful pleasantries; +good-byes to the Darling, the Idol, the Star, the Zimm! boum! +boum! &c. &c. It was all so absolutely idiotic that I was confounded. +I did not read the greater part of these articles, but +my secretary had orders to cut them out and paste them in little +note-books, whether favourable or unfavourable. It was my +godfather who had commenced doing this when I entered the +Conservatoire, and after his death I had it continued.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Happily, I find in these thousands of lines fine and noble +words—words written by J. J. Weiss, Zola, Emile de Girardin, +Jules Vallès, Jules Lemaître, &c.; and beautiful verses full of +grace and justice, signed Victor Hugo, François Coppée, Richepin, +Haraucourt, Henri de Bornier, Catulle Mendès, Parodi, and +later Edmond Rostand.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I neither could nor would suffer unduly from the calumnies +and lies, but I confess that the kind appreciation and praises +accorded me by the superior minds afforded me infinite joy.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXII<br> <span class='large'>EXPERIENCES AND REFLECTIONS ON BOARD SHIP FROM HÂVRE TO NEW YORK</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The ship which was to take me away to other hopes, other +sensations, and other successes was named <cite><span lang="fr">L’Amérique</span></cite>. It +was the unlucky boat, the boat that was haunted by the +gnome. All kinds of misfortunes, accidents, and storms had +been its lot. It had been blockaded for months with its keel +out of water. Its stern had been staved in by an Iceland boat, +and it had foundered on the shores of Newfoundland, I believe, +and been set afloat again. Another time fire had broken out on +it right in the Hâvre roadstead, but no great damage was done. +The poor boat had had a celebrated adventure which had +made it ridiculous.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In 1876 or 1877 a new pumping system was adopted, and +although this system had been in use by the English for a long +time, it was quite unknown aboard French boats. The captain +very wisely decided to have these pumps worked by his crew, so +that in case of any danger the men should be ready to manipulate +them easily.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The experiment had been going on for a few minutes when +one of the men came to inform the captain that the hold of the +ship was filling with water, and no one could discover the cause +of it. “Go on pumping!” shouted the captain. “Hurry up! +Pump away!” The pumps were worked frantically, and the +result was that the hold filled entirely, and the captain was +obliged to abandon the ship after seeing the passengers safely +off in the boats. An English whaler met the ship two days +after, tried the pumps, which worked admirably, but in the +contrary way to that indicated by the French captain. This +slight error cost the Compagnie Transatlantique £48,000 salvage +<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>money, and when they wanted to run the ship again and passengers +refused to go by it, they offered my <i><span lang="fr">impresario</span></i>, Mr. +Abbey, excellent terms. He accepted them, and very intelligent +he was, for, in spite of all prognostications, nothing further +happened to the boat.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had hitherto travelled very little, and I was wild with +delight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On October 15, 1880, at six o’clock in the morning, I entered +my cabin. It was a large one, and was hung with light red repp +embroidered with my initials. What a profusion of the letters +S. B.! Then there was a large brass bedstead brightly polished, +and flowers were everywhere. Adjoining mine was a very comfortable +cabin for <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>, and leading out of that was one +for my maid and her husband. All the other persons in my +service were at the other end of the ship.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The sky was misty, the sea grey, with no horizon. I was on +my way over there, beyond that mist which seemed to unite the +sky and the water in a mysterious rampart.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The clearing of the deck for the departure upset every one +and everything. The rumbling of the machinery, the boatswain’s +call, the bell, the sobbing and the laughter, the +creaking of the ropes, the shrill shouting of the orders, the +terror of those who were only just in time to catch the boat, +the “Halloa!” “Look out!” of the men who were pitching +the packages from the quay into the hold, the sound of the +laughing waves breaking on the side of the boat, all this +mingled together made the most frightful uproar, tiring the +brain so that its own sensations were all vague and bewildered. +I was one of those who up to the last moment enjoyed the +good-byes, the hand-shakings, the plans about the return, and +the farewell kisses, and when it was all over flung themselves +sobbing on their beds.</p> + +<p class='c013'>For the next three days I was in utter despair, weeping bitter +tears, tears that scalded my cheeks. Then I began to get calm +again; my will power triumphed over my grief. On the fourth +day I dressed at seven o’clock and went on deck to have some +fresh air. It was icy cold, and as I walked up and down I met +a lady dressed in black with a sad resigned face. The sea looked +gloomy and colourless, and there were no waves. Suddenly a +wild billow dashed so violently against the ship that we were +<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>both thrown down. I immediately clutched hold of the leg of +one of the benches, but the unfortunate lady was flung forward. +Springing to my feet with a bound, I was just in time to seize +hold of the skirt of her dress, and with the help of my maid +and a sailor managed to prevent the poor woman from falling +head first down the staircase. Very much hurt though she was, +and a trifle confused, she thanked me in such a gentle dreamy +voice that my heart began to beat with emotion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You might have been killed, Madame,” I said, “down that +horrible staircase.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes,” she answered, with a sigh of regret; “but it was not +God’s will.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are you not Madame Hessler?” she continued, looking +earnestly at me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, Madame,” I answered; “my name is Sarah Bernhardt.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>She stepped back and drawing herself up, her face very pale +and her brows knitted, she said in a mournful voice, a voice that +was scarcely audible, “I am the widow of President Lincoln.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I too stepped back, and a thrill of anguish ran through me, +for I had just done this unhappy woman the only service that I +ought not to have done her—I had saved her from death. Her +husband had been assassinated by an actor, Booth, and it was an +actress who had now prevented her from joining her beloved +husband.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went back again to my cabin and stayed there two days, for +I had not the courage to meet the woman for whom I felt such +sympathy and to whom I should never dare to speak again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the 22nd we were surprised by an abominable snowstorm. +I was called up hurriedly by Captain Jouclas. I threw on a +long ermine cloak and went on to the bridge. It was perfectly +stupefying and at the same time fairy-like. The heavy flakes +met each other with a thud in their mad waltzing provoked by +the wind. The sky was suddenly veiled from us by all this +whiteness which fell round us in avalanches, completely hiding +the horizon. I was facing the sea, and as Captain Jouclas +pointed out to me, we could not see a hundred yards in front of +us. I then turned round and saw that the ship was as white +as a sea-gull: the ropes, the cordage, the nettings, the port-holes, +the shrouds, the boats, the deck, the sails, the ladders, +the funnels, the ventilators, everything was white. The sea was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>black and the sky black. The ship alone was white, floating +along in this immensity. There was a contest between the high +funnel, spluttering forth with difficulty its smoke through the +wind which was rushing wildly into its great mouth, and the +prolonged shrieks of the siren. The contrast was so extraordinary +between the virgin whiteness of this ship and the +infernal uproar it made that it seemed to me as if I had before +me an angel in a fit of hysterics.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the evening of that strange day the doctor came to tell +me of the birth of a child among the emigrants, in whom I was +deeply interested. I went at once to the mother, and did all I +could for the poor little creature who had just come into this +world. Oh, the dismal moans in that dismal night in the midst +of all that misery! Oh, that first strident cry of the child +affirming its will to live in the midst of all these sufferings, of +all these hardships, and of all these hopes! Everything was +there mingled together in this human medley—men, women, +children, rags and preserves, oranges and basins, heads of hair +and bald pates, half open lips of young girls and tightly closed +mouths of shrewish women, white caps and red handkerchiefs, +hands stretched out in hope and fists clenched against +adversity. I saw revolvers half concealed under the rags, knives +in the men’s belts. A sudden roll of the boat showed us the +contents of a parcel that had fallen from the hands of a rascally-looking +fellow with a very determined expression on his face, and +a hatchet and a tomahawk fell to the ground. One of the sailors +immediately seized the two weapons to take them to the purser. +I shall never forget the scrutinising glance of the man; he had +evidently made a mental note of the features of the sailor, and +I breathed a fervent prayer that the two might never meet in a +solitary place.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remember now with remorse the horrible disgust that took +possession of me when the doctor handed the child over to me to +wash. That dirty little red, moving, sticky object was a human +being. It had a soul, and would have thoughts! I felt quite +sick, and I could never again look at that child, although I was +afterwards its godmother, without living over again that first +impression. When the young mother had fallen asleep I wanted +to go back to my cabin. The doctor helped me, but the sea +was so rough that we could scarcely walk at all among the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>packages and emigrants. Some of them who were crouching +on the floor watched us silently as we tottered and stumbled +along like drunkards. I was annoyed at being watched by +those malevolent, mocking eyes. “I say, doctor,” one of the +men called out, “the sea water gets in the head like wine. +You and your lady look as though you were coming back from +a spree!” An old woman clung to me as we passed: “Oh, +Madame,” she said, “shall we be shipwrecked with the boat +rolling like this? Oh God! Oh God!” A tall fellow with +red hair and beard came forward and laid the poor old woman +down again gently. “You can sleep in peace, mother,” he +said. “If we are shipwrecked I swear there shall be more saved +down here than up above.” He then came closer to me and +continued in a defiant tone: “The rich folks—first-class—into +the sea! The emigrants and the second-class in the boats!” +As he uttered these words I heard a sly, stifled laugh from +everywhere, in front of me, behind, at the side, and even from +under my feet. It seemed to echo in the distance like the +laughing behind the scenes on the stage. I drew nearer to the +doctor, and he saw that I was uneasy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Nonsense,” he said, laughing; “we should defend ourselves.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But how many <em>could</em> be saved,” I asked, “in case we were +really in danger?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Two hundred—two hundred and fifty at the most, with +all the boats out, if all arrived safely.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But the purser told me that there were seven hundred and +sixty emigrants,” I insisted, “and there are only a hundred and +twenty passengers. How many do you reckon with the officers, +the crew, and the servants?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“A hundred and seventy,” the doctor answered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Then there are a thousand and fifty on board, and you can +only save two hundred and fifty?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, I can understand the hatred of these emigrants, +whom you take on board like cattle and treat like negroes. +They are absolutely certain that in case of danger they would +be sacrificed!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But we should save them when their turn came.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I glanced with horror at the man who was talking to me. +He looked honest and straightforward and he evidently meant +<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>what he said. And so all these poor creatures who had been +disappointed in life and badly treated by society would have no +right to life until after <em>we</em> were saved—we, the more favoured +ones! Oh, how I understood now the rascally-looking fellow, +with his hatchet and tomahawk! How thoroughly I approved +at that moment of the revolvers and the knives hidden in the +belts. Yes, he was quite right, the tall, red-haired fellow. We +want the first places, always the first places. And so we +should have the first places in the water.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, are you satisfied?” asked the captain, who was just +coming out of his cabin. “Has it gone off all right?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, captain,” I answered; “but I am horrified.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jouclas stepped back in surprise.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good Heavens, what has horrified you?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“The way in which you treat your passengers——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He tried to put in a word, but I continued:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why—you expose us in case of a shipwreck——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We never have a shipwreck.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good. In case of a fire, then——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We never have a fire——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Good! In case of sinking——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I give in,” he said, laughing. “To what do we expose you, +though, Madame?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“To the very worst of deaths: to a blow on the head with an +axe, to a dagger thrust in our back, or merely to be flung into +the water——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He attempted to speak, but again I continued:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“There are seven hundred and fifty emigrants below, and +there are scarcely three hundred of us, counting first-class +passengers and the crew. You have boats which might save two +hundred persons, and even that is doubtful——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, what about the emigrants?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We should save them before the crew.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But after us?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, after you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And you fancy that they would let you do it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We have guns with which to keep them in order.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Guns—guns for women and children?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; the women and children would take their turn first.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>“But that is idiotic!” I exclaimed; “it is perfectly absurd! +Why save women and children if you are going to make widows +and orphans of them? And do you believe that all those +young men would resign themselves to their fate because of your +guns? There are more of them than there are of you, and they +are armed. Life owes them their revenge, and they have the +same right that we have to defend themselves in such moments. +They have the courage of those who have nothing to lose and +everything to gain in the struggle. In my opinion it is iniquitous +and infamous that you should expose us to certain death and +them to an obligatory and perfectly justified crime.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The captain tried to speak, but again I persisted:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Without going as far as a shipwreck, only fancy if we were +to be tossed about for months on a raging sea. This has happened, +and might happen again. You cannot possibly have food enough +on board for a thousand people during two or three months.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, certainly not,” put in the purser dryly. He was a very +amiable man, but very touchy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well then, what should you do?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What would <em>you</em> do?” asked the captain, highly amused at +the annoyed expression on the purser’s face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I—oh, I should have a ship for emigrants and a ship for +passengers, and I think that would be only just.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, but it would be ruinous.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No; the one for wealthy people would be a steamer like this, +and the one for emigrants a sailing vessel.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But that too would be unjust, Madame, for the steamer +would go more quickly than the sailing boat.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That would not matter at all,” I argued. “Wealthy people +are always in a hurry, and the poor never are. And then, considering what is awaiting them in the land to which they are +going——”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is the Promised Land.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, poor things! poor things! with their Promised Land! +Dakota or Colorado.... In the day-time they have the sun +which makes their brains boil, scorches the ground, dries up the +springs, and brings forth endless numbers of mosquitoes to sting +their bodies and try their patience. The Promised Land!... +At night they have the terrible cold to make their eyes smart, to +stiffen their joints and ruin their lungs. The Promised Land! +<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>It is just death in some out-of-the-world place after fruitless +appeals to the justice of their fellow countrymen. They will +breathe their life out in a sob or in a terrible curse of +hatred. God will have mercy on them though, for it is piteous +to think that all these poor creatures are delivered over, with +their feet bound by suffering and their hands bound by hope, +to the slave-drivers who trade in white slaves. And when I +think that the money is in the purser’s cash-box which the slave-driver has paid for the transport of all these poor creatures! +Money that has been collected by rough hands or trembling +fingers. Poor money economised, copper by copper, tear by +tear. When I think of all this it makes me wish that we could +be shipwrecked, that <em>we</em> could be all killed and all of them +saved.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>With these words I hurried away to my cabin to have a good +cry, for I was seized with a great love for humanity and intense +grief that I could do nothing, absolutely nothing!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The following morning I woke late, as I had not fallen asleep +until very late. My cabin was full of visitors, and they were +all holding small parcels half concealed. I rubbed my sleepy +eyes, and could not quite understand the meaning of this invasion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My dear Sarah,” said Madame Guérard, coming to me and +kissing me, “don’t imagine that this day, your <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> day, could +be forgotten by those who love you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh,” I exclaimed, “is it the 23rd?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, and here is the first of the remembrances from the +absent ones.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>My eyes filled with tears, and it was through a mist that I +saw the portrait of that young being more precious to me than +anything else in the world, with a few words in his own handwriting. +Then there were some presents from friends—pieces of work from humble admirers. My little godson of the +previous evening was brought to me in a basket, with oranges, +apples, and tangerines all round him. He had a golden star on +his forehead, a star cut out of some gold paper in which chocolate +had been wrapped. My maid Félicie, and Claude her +husband, who were most devoted to me, had prepared some very +ingenious little surprises. Presently there was a knock at my +door, and on my calling out “Come in!” I saw, to my surprise, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>three sailors carrying a superb bouquet, which they presented to +me in the name of the whole crew.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was wild with admiration, and wanted to know how they +had managed to keep the flowers in such good condition.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was an enormous bouquet, but when I took it in my hands +I let it fall to the ground in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. +The flowers were all cut out of vegetables, but so perfectly done +that the illusion was complete at a little distance. Magnificent +roses were cut out of carrots, camellias out of turnips, small +radishes had furnished sprays of rose-buds stuck on to long leeks +dyed green, and all these relieved by carrot leaves artistically +arranged to imitate the grassy plants used for elegant bouquets. +The stalks were tied together with a bow of tri-coloured ribbon. +One of the sailors made a very touching little speech on behalf +of his comrades, who wished to thank me for a trifling service +rendered. I shook hands cordially and thanked them heartily, +and this was the signal for a little concert that had been organised +in the cabin of <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i>. There had been a private +rehearsal with two violins and a flute, so that for the next hour +I was lulled by the most delightful music, which transported me +to my own dear ones, to my home, which seemed so distant from +me at that moment.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This little <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i>, which was almost a domestic one, together +with the music, had evoked the tender and restful side of my +life, and the tears that all this called forth fell without grief, +bitterness, or regret. I wept simply because I was deeply moved, +and I was tired, nervous, and weary, and had a longing for rest +and peace. I fell asleep in the midst of my tears, sighs, and +sobs.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXIII<br> <span class='large'>ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK—AMERICAN REPORTERS—THE CUSTOM-HOUSE—PERFORMANCES IN NEW YORK—A VISIT TO EDISON AT MENLO PARK</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Finally the ship arrived on October 27, at half-past six in +the morning. I was asleep, worn out by three days and nights +of wild storms. My maid had some difficulty in rousing me. I +could not believe that we had arrived, and I wanted to go on +sleeping until the last minute. I had to give in to the evidence, +however, as the screw had stopped, and I heard a sound of dull +thuds echoing in the distance. I put my head out of my port-hole, +and saw some men endeavouring to make a passage for us +through the river. The Hudson was frozen hard, and the heavy +vessel could only advance with the aid of pick-axes cutting away +the blocks of ice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This sudden arrival delighted me, and everything seemed to +be transformed in a minute. I forgot all my discomforts and +the weariness of the twelve days’ crossing. The sun was rising, +pale but rose-tinted, dispersing the mists and shining over the +ice, which, thanks to the efforts of our pioneers, was splintered +into a thousand luminous pieces. I had entered the New World +in the midst of a display of ice-fireworks. It was fairy-like and +somewhat crazy, but it seemed to me that it must be a good +omen.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I am so superstitious that if I had arrived when there was no +sunshine I should have been wretched and most anxious until +after my first performance. It is a perfect torture to be superstitious +to this degree, and, unfortunately for me, I am ten times +more so now than I was in those days, for besides the superstitions +of my own country, I have, thanks to my travels, added to +my stock all the superstitions of the other countries. I know +<span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>them all now, and in any critical moment of my life they all rise +up in armed legions, for or against me. I cannot walk a single +step or make any movement or gesture, sit down, go out, look +at the sky or the ground, without finding some reason for hope +or for despair, until at last, exasperated by the trammels put +upon my actions by my thought, I defy all my superstitions and +just act as I want to act. Delighted, then, with what seemed to +me to be a good omen, I began to dress gleefully.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mr. Jarrett had just knocked at my door.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Do please be ready as soon as possible, Madame,” he said, +“for there are several boats, with the French colours flying, that +have come out to meet you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I glanced in the direction of my port-hole, and saw a steamer, +the deck of which was black with people, and then two other +small boats no less laden than the first one.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The sun lighted up all these French flags, and my heart began +to beat more quickly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had been without any news for twelve days, as, in spite of +all the efforts of our good captain, <cite><span lang="fr">L’Amérique</span></cite> had taken twelve +days for the journey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A man had just come on deck, and I rushed towards him with +outstretched hands, unable to utter a single word.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He gave me a packet of telegrams. I did not see any one +present, and I heard no sound. I wanted to know something. +And among all the telegrams I was searching first for one, just +one name. At last I had it, the telegram I had waited for, +feared and hoped to receive, signed Maurice. Here it was at +last. I closed my eyes for a second, and during that time I +saw all that was dear to me and felt the infinite sweetness of it +all.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I opened my eyes again I was slightly embarrassed, for +I was surrounded by a crowd of unknown people, all of them +silent and indulgent, but evidently very curious. Wishing to go +away, I took Mr. Jarrett’s arm and went to the saloon. As soon +as I entered the first notes of the Marseillaise rang out, and our +Consul spoke a few words of welcome and handed me some +flowers. A group representing the French colony presented me +with a friendly address. Then M. Mercier, the editor of the +<cite><span lang="fr">Courrier des Etats Unis</span></cite>, made a speech, as witty as it was +kindly. It was a thoroughly French speech. Then came the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>terrible moment of introductions. Oh, what a tiring time that +was! My mind was kept at a tension to catch the names. Mr. +Pemb——, Madame Harth——, with the <em>h</em> aspirated. With +great difficulty I grasped the first syllable, and the second finished +in a confusion of muffled vowels and hissing consonants. By the +time the twentieth name was pronounced I had given up listening; +I simply kept on with my little <i><span lang="fr">risorius de Santorini</span></i>, half +closed my eyes, held out mechanically the arm at the end of +which was the hand that had to shake and be shaken. I replied +all the time: “<i><span lang="fr">Combien je suis charmée, Madame.... Oh! +Certainement.... Oh oui!... Oh non!... Ah!... +Oh!... Oh!...</span></i>” I was getting dazed, idiotic—worn +out with standing. I had only one idea, and that was to get +my rings off the fingers that were swelling with the repeated +grips they were enduring. My eyes were getting larger and larger +with terror as they gazed at the door through which the crowd +continued to stream in my direction. There were still the +names of all these people to hear and all these hands to +shake. My <i><span lang="fr">risorius de Santorini</span></i> must still go on working +more than fifty times. I could feel the beads of perspiration +standing out under my hair, and I began to get terribly +nervous. My teeth chattered and I commenced stammering: +“<i><span lang="fr">Oh, Madame!... Oh!... Je suis cha——cha——</span></i>” +I really could not go on any longer. I felt that I should get +angry or burst out crying—in fact, that I was about to make +myself ridiculous. I decided therefore to faint. I made a movement +with my hand as though it wanted to continue but could +not. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes, and fell gently +into Jarrett’s arms. “Quick! Air!... A doctor!... Poor +thing.... How pale she is! Take her hat off!... Loosen +her corset!... She doesn’t wear one. Unfasten her +dress!...” I was terrified, but Félicie was called up in haste, +and <i><span lang="fr">mon petit Dame</span></i> would not allow any <i><span lang="fr">deshabillage</span></i>. The +doctor came back with a bottle of ether. Félicie seized the +bottle.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no, doctor—not ether! When Madame is quite well +the odour of ether will make her faint.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>This was quite true, and I thought it was time to come to my +senses again. The reporters were arriving, and there were more +than twenty of them; but Jarrett, who was very much affected, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>asked them to go to the Albemarle Hotel, where I was to put up. +I saw each of the reporters take Jarrett aside, and when I asked +him what the secret was of all these “asides,” he answered +phlegmatically, “I have made an appointment with them for +one o’clock. There will be a fresh one every ten minutes.” I +looked at him, petrified with astonishment. He met my anxious +gaze and said:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<i><span lang="fr">Ah oui; il était nécessaire.</span></i>”</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving at the Albemarle Hotel I felt tired and nervous, +and wanted to be left quite alone. I hurried away at once to +my room in the suite that had been engaged for me, and +fastened the doors. There was neither lock nor bolt on one of +them, but I pushed a piece of furniture against it, and then +refused emphatically to open it. There were about fifty people +waiting in the drawing-room, but I had that feeling of awful +weariness which makes one ready to go to the most violent +extremes for the sake of an hour’s repose. I wanted to lie +down on the rug, cross my arms, throw my head back, and close +my eyes. I did not want to talk any more, and I did not want +to have to smile or look at any one. I threw myself down +on the floor, and was deaf to the knocks on my door and to +Jarrett’s supplications. I did not want to argue the matter, so +I did not utter a word. I heard the murmur of grumbling +voices, and Jarrett’s words tactfully persuading the visitors to +stay. I heard the rustle of paper being pushed under the door, +and Madame Guérard whispering to Jarrett, who was furious.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You don’t know her, Monsieur Jarrett,” I heard her say. +“If she thought you were forcing the door open, against which +she has pushed the furniture, she would jump out of the +window!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Then I heard Félicie talking to a French lady who was +insisting on seeing me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It is quite impossible,” she was saying. “Madame would +be quite hysterical. She needs an hour’s rest, and every one +must wait!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>For some little time I could hear a confused murmur which +seemed to get farther away, and then I fell into a delicious +sleep, laughing to myself as I went off, for my good temper +returned as I pictured the angry, nonplussed expression on the +faces of my visitors.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>I woke in an hour’s time, for I have the precious gift of being +able to sleep ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, or an hour, just +as I like, and I then wake up quite peacefully without a shake +at the time I choose to rouse up. Nothing does me so much +good as this rest to body and mind, decided upon and regulated +merely by my will.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Very often when among my intimate friends I have lain down +on the bear-skin hearth-rug in front of the fire, telling every one +to go on talking, and to take no notice of me. I have then +slept perhaps for an hour, and on waking have found two or +three new-comers in the room, who, not wishing to disturb me, +have taken part in the general conversation whilst waiting until +I should wake up and they could present their respects to me. +Even now I lie down on the huge wide sofa in the little Empire +<i><span lang="fr">salon</span></i> which leads into my dressing-room, and I sleep whilst +waiting for the friends and artistes with whom I have made +appointments to be ushered in. When I open my eyes I see the +faces of my kind friends, who shake hands cordially, delighted that +I should have had some rest. My mind is then tranquil, and I +am ready to listen to all the beautiful ideas proposed to me, or +to decline the absurdities submitted to me without being +ungracious.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I woke up then at the Albemarle Hotel an hour later, and found +myself lying on the rug. I opened the door of my room, and +discovered my dear Guérard and my faithful Félicie seated +on a trunk.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Are there any people there still?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Madame, there are about a hundred now,” answered +Félicie.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Help me to take my things off then quickly,” I said, “and +find me a white dress.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>In about five minutes I was ready, and I felt that I looked +nice from head to foot. I went into the drawing-room where +all these unknown persons were waiting. Jarrett came forward +to meet me, but on seeing me well dressed and with a smiling +face he postponed the sermon that he wanted to preach to me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I should like to introduce Jarrett to my readers, for he was +a most extraordinary man. He was then about sixty-five +or seventy years of age. He was tall, with a face like King +Agamemnon, framed by the most beautiful silver-white hair I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>have ever seen on a man’s head. His eyes were of so pale a blue +that when they lighted up with anger he looked as though he +were blind. When he was calm and tranquil, admiring nature, +his face was really handsome, but when gay and animated his +upper lip showed his teeth and curled up in a most ferocious +sniff, and his grins seemed to be caused by the drawing up of his +pointed ears, which were always moving as though on the watch +for prey.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was a terrible man, extremely intelligent; but from childhood +he must have been fighting with the world, and he had the +most profound contempt for all mankind. Although he must +have suffered a great deal himself, he had no pity for others who +suffered. He always said that every man was armed for his own +defence. He pitied women; did not care for them, but was +always ready to help them. He was very rich and very economical, but not miserly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I made my way in life,” he often said to me, “by the aid of +two weapons: honesty and a revolver. In business honesty is +the most terrible weapon a man can use against rascals and crafty +people. The former don’t know what it is and the latter don’t +believe in it; while the revolver is an admirable invention for +compelling scoundrels to keep their word.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He used to tell me about wonderful and terrifying adventures.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He had a deep scar under his right eye. During a violent +discussion about a contract to be signed for Jenny Lind, the +celebrated singer, Jarrett said to his interlocutor, pointing at the +same time to his right eye: “Look at that eye, sir. It is now +reading in your mind all that you are not saying.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“It doesn’t know how to read, then, for it never foresaw that,” +said the other, firing his revolver at Jarrett’s right eye.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“A bad shot, sir,” replied Jarrett. “This is the way to take +aim for effectually closing an eye.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And he put a ball between the two eyes of the other man, who +fell down dead.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When Jarrett told this story his lip curled up and his two +incisors appeared to be crunching the words with delight, and +his bursts of stifled laughter sounded like the snapping of his +jaws. He was an upright, honest man, though, and I liked him +very much, and I like what I remember of him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My first impression was a joyful one, and I clapped my hands +<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>with delight as I entered the drawing-room, which I had not yet +seen. The busts of Racine, Molière, and Victor Hugo were on +pedestals surrounded with flowers. All round the large room +were sofas laden with cushions, and, to remind me of my home +in Paris, there were tall palms stretching out their branches over +the sofas. Jarrett introduced Knoedler, who had suggested this +piece of gallantry. He was a very charming man. I shook +hands with him, and we were friends from that time forth.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The visitors soon went away, but the reporters remained. +They were all seated, some of them on the arms of the chairs, +others on the cushions. One of them had crouched down tailor-fashion +on a bear-skin, and was leaning back against the steam +heater. He was pale and thin, and coughed a great deal. I +went towards him, and had just opened my lips to speak to him, +although I was rather shocked that he did not rise, when he +addressed me in a bass voice.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Which is your favourite <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, Madame?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That is no concern of yours,” I answered, turning my back +on him. In doing so I knocked against another reporter, who +was more polite.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What do you eat when you wake in the morning, Madame?” +he inquired.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was about to reply to him as I had done to the first one, but +Jarrett, who had had difficulty in appeasing the anger of the +crouching man, answered quickly for me, “Oatmeal.” I did not +know what that dish was, but the ferocious reporter continued +his questions.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“And what do you eat during the day?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Mussels.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He wrote down phlegmatically, “Mussels during the day.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I moved towards the door, and a female reporter in a tailor-made skirt, +with her hair cut short, asked me in a clear, sweet +voice, “Are you a Jewess-Catholic-Protestant-Mohammedan-Buddhist-Atheist-Zoroaster-Theist-or-Deist?” +I stood still, rooted +to the spot in bewilderment. She had said all that in a breath, +accenting the syllables haphazard, and making of the whole one +word so wildly incoherent that my impression was that I was not +in safety near this strange, gentle person. I must have looked +uneasy, and as my eyes fell on an elderly lady who was talking +gaily to a little group of people, she came to my rescue, saying +<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>in very good French, “This young lady is asking you, Madame, +whether you are of the Jewish religion or whether you are a +Catholic, a Protestant, a Mohammedan, a Buddhist, an Atheist, +a Zoroastrian, a Theist, or a Deist.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I sank down on a couch.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Heavens!” I exclaimed, “will it be like this in all the +cities I visit?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh no,” answered Jarrett placidly; “your interviews will be +wired throughout America.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“What about the mussels?” I thought to myself, and then +in an absent-minded way I answered, “I am a Catholic, +Mademoiselle.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“A Roman Catholic, or do you belong to the Orthodox +Church?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I jumped up from my seat, for she bored me beyond endurance, +and a very young man then approached timidly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Will you allow me to finish my sketch, Madame?” he +asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I remained standing, my profile turned towards him at his +request. When he had finished I asked to see what he had +done, and, perfectly unabashed, he handed me his horrible +drawing of a skeleton with a curly wig. I tore the sketch +up and threw it at him, but the following day that horror +appeared in the papers, with a disagreeable inscription beneath +it. Fortunately I was able to speak seriously about my art with +a few honest and intelligent journalists, but twenty-five years +ago reporters’ paragraphs were more appreciated in America +than serious articles, and the public, very much less literary +then than at present, always seemed ready to echo the +turpitudes invented by reporters hard up for copy. I should +think that no creature in the world, since the invention of +reporting, has ever had as much to endure as I had during that +first tour. The basest calumnies were circulated by my enemies +long before I arrived in America, there was all the treachery of +the friends of the Comédie, and even of my own admirers, who +hoped that I should not succeed on my tour, so that I might return +more quickly to the fold, humiliated, calmed down, and +subdued. Then there were the exaggerated announcements +invented by my <i><span lang="fr">impresario</span></i> Abbey and my representative +Jarrett. These announcements were often outrageous and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>always ridiculous; but I did not know their real source until +long afterwards, when it was too late—much too late—to +undeceive the public, who were fully persuaded that I was the +instigator of all these inventions. I therefore did not attempt +to undeceive them. It matters very little to me whether people +believe one thing or another.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Life is short, even for those who live a long time, and we +must live for the few who know and appreciate us, who judge +and absolve us, and for whom we have the same affection and +indulgence. The rest I look upon as a mere crowd, lively +or sad, loyal or corrupt, from whom there is nothing to be +expected but fleeting emotions, either pleasant or unpleasant, +which leave no trace behind them. We ought to hate very +rarely, as it is too fatiguing; remain indifferent to a great +deal, forgive often and never forget. Forgiving does not +mean forgetting—at least, it does not with me. I will not +mention here any of the outrageous and infamous attacks that +were made upon me, as it would be doing too great an honour +to the wretched people who were responsible for them, from +beginning to end dipping their pen in the gall of their +own souls. All I can say is that nothing kills but death, and +that any one who wishes to defend himself or herself from +slander can do it. For that one must live. It is not given to +every one to be able to do it, but it depends on the will of God, +who sees and judges.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took two days’ rest before going to the theatre, for I could +feel the movement of the ship all the time: my head was dizzy, +and it seemed to me as though the ceiling moved up and down. +The twelve days on the sea had quite upset my health. I +sent a line to the stage manager, telling him that we would +rehearse on Wednesday, and on that day, as soon as luncheon +was over, I went to Booth’s Theatre, where our performances +were to take place. At the stage door I saw a compact, +swaying crowd, very much animated and gesticulating. +These strange-looking individuals did not belong to the +world of actors. They were not reporters either, for I knew +them too well, alas! to be mistaken in them. They were +not there out of curiosity either, these people, for they +seemed too much occupied, and then, too, there were only +men. When my carriage drew up, one of them rushed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>forward to the door of it and then returned to the swaying +crowd. “Here she is! Here she is!” I heard, and then all these +common men, with their white neckties and questionable-looking +hands, with their coats flying open, and trousers the knees of +which were worn and dirty-looking, crowded behind me into +the narrow passage leading to the staircase. I did not feel very +easy in my mind, and I mounted the stairs rapidly. Several +persons were waiting for me at the top: Mr. Abbey, Jarrett, and +also some reporters, two gentlemen and a charming and most +distinguished woman, whose friendship I have kept ever since, +although she does not care much for French people. I saw +Mr. Abbey, who was usually very dignified and cold, advance in +the most gracious and courteous way to one of the men who +were following me. They raised their hats to each other, and, +followed by the strange and brutal-looking regiment, they +advanced towards the centre of the stage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then saw the strangest of sights. In the middle of the +stage were my forty-two trunks. In obedience to a sign, +twenty of the men came forward, and placing themselves each +one between two trunks, with a quick movement with their +right and left hands they took the covers off the trunks on the +right and left of them. Jarrett, with frowns and an unpleasant +grin, held out my keys to them. He had asked me that morning +for my keys for the Customs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said; “don’t be uneasy,” and the +way in which my luggage had always been respected in other +countries had given me perfect confidence about it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The principal personage of the ugly group came towards me, +accompanied by Abbey, and Jarrett explained things to me. +The man was an official from the American Custom-house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Custom-house is an abominable institution in every +country, but worse in America than anywhere else. I was +prepared for all this, and was most affable to the tormentor of a +traveller’s patience. He raised the melon which served him for +a hat, and without taking his cigar out of his mouth made some +incomprehensible remark to me. He then turned to his regiment +of men, made an abrupt sign with his hand, and uttered some +word of command, whereupon the forty dirty hands of these +twenty men proceeded to forage among my velvets, satins, and +laces. I rushed forward to save my poor dresses from such outrageous +<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>violation, and I ordered the lady of our company who +had charge of the costumes to lift my gowns out one at a time, +which she accordingly did, aided by my maid, who was in tears +at the small amount of respect shown by these boors to all my +beautiful, fragile things. Two ladies had just arrived, very +noisy and businesslike. One of them was short and stout: her +nose seemed to begin at the roots of her hair; she had round, +placid-looking eyes, and a mouth like a snout; her arms she was +hiding timidly behind her heavy flabby bust, and her ungainly +knees seemed to come straight out of her groin. She looked +like a seated cow. Her companion was like a terrapin, with her +little black evil-looking head at the end of a neck which was too +long and very stringy. She kept shooting it out of her boa +and drawing it back with the most incredible rapidity. The +rest of her body bulged out flat. These two delightful persons +were the dressmakers sent for by the Custom-house to value +my costumes. They glanced at me in a furtive way, and gave +a little bow full of bitterness and jealous rage at the sight of +my dresses; and I was quite aware that two more enemies had +now come upon the scene. These two odious shrews began to +chatter and argue, pawing and crumpling my dresses and cloaks +at the same time. They kept exclaiming in the most emphatic +way, “Oh, how beautiful! What magnificence! What luxury! +All our customers will want gowns like these, and we shall never +be able to make them! It will be the ruin of all the American +dressmakers.” They were working up the judges into a state of +excitement for this chiffon court-martial. They kept lamenting, +then going into raptures and asking for “justice” against +foreign invasion. The ugly band of men nodded their heads in +approval, and spat on the ground to affirm their independence. +Suddenly the Terrapin turned on one of the inquisitors:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, isn’t it beautiful? Show it! show it!” she exclaimed, +seizing on a dress all embroidered with pearls, which I wore in +<cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“This dress is worth at least ten thousand dollars,” she said; +and then, coming up to me, she asked, “How much did you pay +for that dress, Madame?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I ground my teeth together and would not answer, for just at +that moment I should have enjoyed seeing the Terrapin in one +of the saucepans in the Albemarle Hotel kitchen. It was nearly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>half-past five, and my feet were frozen. I was half dead, too, +with fatigue and suppressed anger. The rest of the examination +was postponed until the next day, and the ugly band of men +offered to put everything back in the trunks, but I objected to +that. I sent out for five hundred yards of blue tarlatan to cover +over the mountain of dresses, hats, cloaks, shoes, laces, linen, +stockings, furs, gloves, &c. &c. They then made me take my +oath to remove nothing, for they had such charming confidence +in me, and I left my steward there in charge. He was the husband +of Félicie, my maid, and a bed was put up for him on the +stage. I was so nervous and upset that I wanted to go somewhere +far away, to have some fresh air, and to stay out for a +long time. A friend offered to take me to see Brooklyn Bridge.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“That masterpiece of American genius will make you forget +the petty miseries of our red tape affairs,” he said gently, and +so we set out for Brooklyn Bridge.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that bridge! It is insane, admirable, imposing; and it +makes one feel proud. Yes, one is proud to be a human being +when one realises that a brain has created and suspended in the +air, fifty yards from the ground, that fearful thing which bears +a dozen trains filled with passengers, ten or twelve tramcars, a +hundred cabs, carriages, and carts, and thousands of foot passengers; +and all that moving along together amidst the uproar of +the music of the metals—clanging, clashing, grating, and groaning +under the enormous weight of people and things. The movement +of the air caused by this frightful tempestuous coming and +going caused me to feel giddy and stopped my breath.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I made a sign for the carriage to stand still, and I closed my +eyes. I then had a strange, undefinable sensation of universal +chaos. I opened my eyes again when my brain was a little more +tranquil, and I saw New York stretching out along the river, +wearing its night ornaments, which glittered as much through +its dress with thousands of electric lights as the firmament with +its tunic of stars.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned to the hotel reconciled with this great nation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went to sleep, tired in body but rested in mind, and had +such delightful dreams that I was in a good humour the following +day. I adore dreams, and my sad, unhappy days are those which +follow dreamless nights.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My great grief is that I cannot choose my dreams. How +<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>many times I have done all in my power at the end of a happy +day to make myself dream a continuation of it. How many +times I have called up the faces of those I love just before falling +asleep; but my thoughts wander and carry me off elsewhere, and +I prefer that a hundred times over to the absolute negation of +thought.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When I am asleep my body has an infinite sense of enjoyment, +but it is torture to me for my thoughts to slumber.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My vital forces rebel against such negation of life. I am +quite willing to die once for all, but I object to slight deaths +such as those of which one has the sensation on dreamless +nights. When I awoke my maid told me that Jarrett was +waiting for me to go to the theatre so that the valuation of my +costumes could be terminated. I sent word to Jarrett that I +had seen quite enough of the regiment from the Custom-house, +and I asked him to finish everything without me, as Madame +Guérard would be there. During the next two days the +Terrapin, the Seated Cow, and the Black Band made notes for +the Custom-house, took sketches for the papers and patterns of +my dresses for customers. I began to get impatient, as we ought +to have been rehearsing. Finally, I was told on Thursday +morning that the business was over, and that I could not have +my trunks until I had paid twenty-eight thousand francs for +duty. I was seized with such a violent fit of laughing that poor +Abbey, who had been terrified, caught it from me, and even +Jarrett showed his cruel teeth.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My dear Abbey,” I exclaimed, “arrange as you like about +it, but I must make my <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> on Monday the 8th of November, +and to-day is Thursday. I shall be at the theatre on Monday +to dress. See that I have my trunks, for there was nothing +about the Custom-house in my contract. I will pay half, +though, of what you have to give.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The twenty-eight thousand francs were handed over to an +attorney who made a claim in my name on the Board of +Customs. My trunks were left with me, thanks to this payment, +and the rehearsals commenced at Booth’s Theatre.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On Monday, November 8, at 8.30, the curtain rose for the +first performance of <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>. The house was +crowded, and the seats, which had been sold to the highest +bidders and then sold by them again, had fetched exorbitant +<span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>prices. I was awaited with impatience and curiosity, but not +with any sympathy. There were no young girls present, as the +piece was too immoral. Poor Adrienne Lecouvreur!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The audience was very polite to the artistes of my company, +but rather impatient to see the strange person who had been +described to them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In the play the curtain falls at the end of the first act without +Adrienne having appeared. A person in the house, very much +annoyed, asked to see Mr. Henry Abbey. “I want my money +back,” he said, “as la Bernhardt is not in every act.” Abbey +refused to return the money to the extraordinary individual, +and as the curtain was going up he hurried back to take +possession of his seat again. My appearance was greeted by +several rounds of applause, which I believe had been paid for in +advance by Abbey and Jarrett. I commenced, and the sweetness +of my voice in the fable of the “Two Pigeons” worked the +miracle. The whole house this time burst out into hurrahs. +A current of sympathy was established between the public and +myself. Instead of the hysterical skeleton that had been +announced to them, they had before them a very frail-looking +creature with a sweet voice. The fourth act was applauded, and +Adrienne’s rebellion against the Princesse de Bouillon stirred the +whole house. Finally in the fifth act, when the unfortunate +artiste is dying, poisoned by her rival, there was quite a manifestation, +and every one was deeply moved. At the end of the +third act all the young men were sent off by the ladies to find all +the musicians they could get together, and to my surprise and +delight on arriving at my hotel a charming serenade was played +for me while I was at supper. The crowd had assembled under +my windows at the Albemarle Hotel, and I was obliged to go out +on to the balcony several times to bow and to thank this public, +which I had been told I should find cold and prejudiced against +me. From the bottom of my heart I also thanked all my +detractors and slanderers, as it was through them that I had had +the pleasure of fighting, with the certainty of conquering. The +victory was all the more enjoyable as I had not dared to hope +for it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I gave twenty-seven performances in New York. The plays +were <cite><span lang="fr">Adrienne Lecouvreur</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Hernani</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux +Camélias</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, and <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>. The average receipts +<span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>were 20,342 francs for each performance, including <i><span lang="fr">matinées</span></i>. The +last performance was given on Saturday, December 4, as a +<i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i>, for my company had to leave that night for Boston, +and I had reserved the evening to go to Mr. Edison’s at Menlo +Park, where I had a reception worthy of fairyland.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, that <i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i> of Saturday, December 4! I can never +forget it. When I got to the theatre to dress it was mid-day, +for the <i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i> was to commence at half-past one. My carriage +stopped, not being able to get along, for the street was filled by +ladies, sitting on chairs which they had borrowed from the +neighbouring shops, or on folding seats which they had brought +themselves. The play was <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>. I had +to get out of my carriage and walk about twenty-five yards on +foot in order to get to the stage door. It took me twenty-five +minutes to do it. People shook my hands and begged me to +come back. One lady took off her brooch and pinned it in my +mantle—a modest brooch of amethysts surrounded by fine pearls, +but certainly for the giver the brooch had its value. I was +stopped at every step. One lady pulled out her note-book and +begged me to write my name. The idea took like lightning. +Small boys under the care of their parents wanted me to write +my name on their cuffs. My arms were full of small bouquets +which had been pushed into my hands. I felt behind me some +one tugging at the feather in my hat. I turned round sharply. +A woman with a pair of scissors in her hand had tried to cut off +a lock of my hair, but she only succeeded in cutting the feather +out of my hat. In vain Jarrett signalled and shouted. I could +not get along. They sent for the police, who delivered me, but +without any ceremony either for my admirers or for myself. +Those policemen were real brutes, and they made me very angry. +I played <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>, and I counted seventeen +calls after the third act and twenty-nine after the fifth. In +consequence of the cheering and calls the play had lasted an +hour longer than usual, and I was half dead with fatigue. I was +just about to go to my carriage to get back to my hotel, when +Jarrett came to tell me that there were more than 50,000 +people waiting outside. I fell back on a chair, tired and disheartened.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, I will wait till the crowd has dispersed. I am tired out. +I can do no more.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>But Henry Abbey had an inspiration of genius.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Come,” said he to my sister. “Put on Madame’s hat and boa +and take my arm. And take also these bouquets—give me what +you cannot carry. And now we will go to your sister’s carriage +and make our bow.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He said all this in English, and Jarrett translated it to my +sister, who willingly accepted her part in this little comedy. +During this time Jarrett and I got into Abbey’s carriage, which +was stationed in front of the theatre where no one was waiting. +And it was fortunate we took this course, for my sister only got +back to the Albemarle Hotel an hour later, very tired, but very +much amused. Her resemblance to myself, my hat, my boa, +and the darkness of night had been the accomplices of the +little comedy which we had offered to my enthusiastic public.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had to set out at nine o’clock for Menlo Park. We had +to dress in travelling costume, for the following day we were to +leave for Boston, and my trunks were leaving the same day with +my company, which preceded me by several hours.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our meal was, as usual, very bad, for in those days in +America the food was unspeakably awful. At ten o’clock we +took the train—a pretty special train, all decorated with flowers +and banners, which they had been kind enough to prepare for +me. But it was a painful journey all the same, for at every +moment we had to pull up to allow another train to pass or an +engine to manœuvre, or to wait to pass over the points. It was +two o’clock in the morning when the train at last reached the +station of Menlo Park, the residence of Thomas Edison.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was a very dark night, and the snow was falling silently in +heavy flakes. A carriage was waiting, and the one lamp of this +carriage served to light up the whole station, for orders had been +given that the electric lights should be put out. I found my +way with the help of Jarrett and some of my friends who had +accompanied us from New York. The intense cold froze the +snow as it fell, and we walked over veritable blocks of sharp, +jagged ice, which crackled under our feet. Behind the first +carriage was another heavier one, with only one horse and no +lamp. There was room for five or six persons to crowd into +this. We were ten in all. Jarrett, Abbey, my sister, and I took +our places in the first one, leaving the others to get into the +second. We looked like a band of conspirators. The dark night, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_377'>377</span>the two mysterious carriages, the silence caused by the icy coldness, +the way in which we were muffled in our furs, and our +anxious expression as we glanced around us—all this made our +visit to the celebrated Edison resemble a scene out of an +operetta.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The carriage rolled along, sinking deep into the snow and +jolting terribly; the jolts made us dread every instant some +tragi-comic accident.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I cannot tell how long we had been rolling along, for, lulled by +the movement of the carriage and buried in my warm furs, I was +quietly dozing, when a formidable “Hip, hip, hurrah!” made us +all jump, my travelling companions, the coachman, the horse, +and I. As quick as thought the whole country was suddenly +illuminated. Under the trees, on the trees, among the bushes, +along the garden walks, lights flashed forth triumphantly.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The wheels of the carriage turned a few more times, and then +drew up at the house of the famous Thomas Edison. A group +of people awaited us on the verandah—four men, two ladies, +and a young girl. My heart began to beat quickly as I +wondered which of these men was Edison. I had never seen +his photograph, and I had the greatest admiration for his genial +brain. I sprang out of the carriage, and the dazzling electric +light made it seem like day-time to us. I took the bouquet which +Mrs. Edison offered me, and thanked her for it, but all the time +I was endeavouring to discover which of these was the great +man.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They all four advanced towards me, but I noticed the flush +that came into the face of one of them, and it was so evident +from the expression of his blue eyes that he was intensely bored +that I guessed this was Edison. I felt confused and embarrassed +myself, for I knew very well that I was causing inconvenience to +this man by my visit. He of course imagined that it was due +to the idle curiosity of a foreigner eager to court publicity. He +was no doubt thinking of the interviewing in store for him the +following day, and of the stupidities he would be made to utter. +He was suffering beforehand at the idea of the ignorant +questions I should ask him, of all the explanations he would +out of politeness be obliged to give me, and at that moment +Thomas Edison took a dislike to me. His wonderful blue eyes, +more luminous than his incandescent lamps, enabled me to read +<span class='pageno' id='Page_378'>378</span>his thoughts. I immediately understood that he must be won +over, and my combative instinct had recourse to all my powers +of fascination in order to vanquish this delightful but bashful +<i><span lang="fr">savant</span></i>. I made such an effort, and succeeded so well that half +an hour later we were the best of friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I followed him about quickly, climbing up staircases as +narrow and steep as ladders, crossing bridges suspended in the +air above veritable furnaces, and he explained everything to me. +I understood all, and I admired him more and more, for he was +so simple and charming, this king of light.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As we were leaning over a slightly unsteady bridge above the +terrible abyss, in which immense wheels encased in wide thongs +were turning, whirling about, and rumbling, he gave various +orders in a clear voice, and light then burst forth on all sides, +sometimes in sputtering greenish jets, sometimes in quick +flashes, or in serpentine trails like streams of fire. I looked +at this man of medium size, with rather a large head and a +noble-looking profile, and I thought of Napoleon I. There is +certainly a great physical resemblance between these two men, +and I am sure that one compartment of their brain would be +found to be identical. Of course I do not compare their genius. +The one was destructive and the other creative, but whilst +I execrate battles I adore victories, and in spite of his errors I +have raised an altar in my heart to that god of glory, Napoleon! +I therefore looked at Edison thoughtfully, for he reminded me +of the great man who was dead. The deafening sound of the +machinery, the dazzling rapidity of the changes of light, all that +together made my head whirl, and forgetting where I was, I +leaned for support on the slight balustrade which separated me +from the abyss beneath. I was so unconscious of all danger +that before I had recovered from my surprise Edison had helped +me into an adjoining room and installed me in an arm-chair +without my realising how it had all happened. He told me +afterwards that I had turned dizzy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After having done the honours of his telephonic discovery and +of his astonishing phonograph, Edison offered me his arm and +took me to the dining-room, where I found his family assembled. +I was very tired, and did justice to the supper that had been so +hospitably prepared for us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left Menlo Park at four o’clock in the morning, and this +<span class='pageno' id='Page_379'>379</span>time the country round, the roads and the station were all +lighted up <i><span lang="fr">à giorno</span></i>, by the thousands of lamps of my kind host. +What a strange power of suggestion the darkness has! I +thought I had travelled a long way that night, and it seemed to +me that the roads were impracticable. It proved to be quite a +short distance, and the roads were charming, although they were +now covered with snow. Imagination had played a great part +during the journey to Edison’s house, but reality played a +much greater one during the same journey back to the station. +I was enthusiastic in my admiration of the inventions of this +man, and I was charmed with his timid graciousness and perfect +courtesy, and with his profound love of Shakespeare.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_380'>380</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXIV<br> <span class='large'>AT BOSTON—STORY OF THE WHALE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>The next day, or rather that same day, for it was then four in +the morning, I started with my company for Boston. Mr. Abbey, +my <i><span lang="fr">impresario</span></i>, had arranged for me to have a delightful “car,” +but it was nothing like the wonderful Pullman car that I was +to have from Philadelphia for continuing my tour. I was very +much pleased with this one, nevertheless. In the middle of it +there was a real bed, large and comfortable, on a brass bedstead. +Then there were an arm-chair, a pretty dressing-table, a basket +tied up with ribbons for my dog, and flowers everywhere, but +flowers without an overpowering perfume. In the car adjoining +mine were my own servants, who were also very comfortable. +I went to bed feeling thoroughly satisfied, and woke up at +Boston.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A large crowd was assembled at the station. There were +reporters and curious men and women—a public decidedly more +interested than friendly, not badly intentioned, but by no means +enthusiastic. Public opinion in New York had been greatly +occupied with me during the past month. I had been so much +criticised and glorified. Calumnies of all kinds, stupid and +disgusting, foolish and odious, had been circulated about me. +Some people blamed and others admired the disdain with which +I had treated these turpitudes, but every one knew that I had +won in the end and that I had triumphed over all and everything. +Boston knew, too, that clergymen had preached from +their pulpits saying that I had been sent by the Old World to +corrupt the New World, that my art was an inspiration from +hell, &c. &c. Every one knew all this, but the public wanted +to see for itself. Boston belongs especially to the women. +Tradition says that it was a woman who first set foot in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_381'>381</span>Boston. Women form the majority there. They are puritanical +with intelligence, and independent with a certain grace. I +passed between the two lines formed by this strange, courteous, +and cold crowd, and just as I was about to get into my +carriage a lady advanced towards me and said, “Welcome to +Boston, Madame!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Welcome, Madame!” and she held out a soft little hand to +me. (American women generally have charming hands and +feet.) Other people now approached and smiled, and I had to +shake hands with many of them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I took a fancy to this city at once, but all the same I was +furious for a moment when a reporter sprang on the steps of the +carriage just as we were driving away. He was in a greater +hurry and more audacious than any of the others, but he was +certainly overstepping the limits, and I pushed the impolite +fellow back angrily. Jarrett was prepared for this, and saved him +by the collar of his coat; otherwise he would have fallen down on +the pavement as he deserved.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“At what time will you come and get on the whale to-morrow?” +this extraordinary personage asked. I gazed at him +in bewilderment. He spoke French perfectly, and repeated his +question.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“He’s mad!” I said in a low voice to Jarrett.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, Madame; I am not mad, but I should like to know at +what time you will come and get on the whale? It would be +better perhaps to come this evening, for we are afraid it may +die in the night, and it would be a pity for you not to come and +pay it a visit while it still has breath.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He went on talking, and as he talked he half seated himself +beside Jarrett, who was still holding him by the collar lest he +should fall out of the carriage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, Monsieur,” I exclaimed, “what do you mean? What +is all this about a whale?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, Madame,” he replied, “it is admirable, enormous. It +is in the harbour basin, and there are men employed day and +night to break the ice all round it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>He broke off suddenly, and standing on the carriage step he +clutched the driver.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Stop! Stop!” he called out. “Hi! Hi! Henry, come +here! Here’s Madame; here she is!”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_382'>382</span>The carriage drew up, and without any further ceremony +he jumped down and pushed into my landau a little man, square +all over, who was wearing a fur cap pulled down over his eyes, +and an enormous diamond in his cravat. He was the strangest +type of the old-fashioned Yankee. He did not speak a word of +French, but he took his seat calmly by Jarrett, whilst the +reporter remained half sitting and half hanging on to the vehicle. +There had been three of us when we started from the station, +and we were five when we reached the Hotel Vendome. There +were a great many people awaiting my arrival, and I was quite +ashamed of my new companion. He talked in a loud voice, +laughed, coughed, spat, addressed every one, and gave every one +invitations. All the people seemed to be delighted. A little +girl threw her arms round her father’s neck, exclaiming, “Oh +yes, papa; do please let us go!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, but we must ask Madame,” he replied, and he came up +to me in the most polite and courteous manner. “Will you +kindly allow us to join your party when you go to see the whale +to-morrow?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“But, Monsieur,” I answered, delighted to have to do with a +gentleman once more, “I have no idea what all this means. +For the last quarter of an hour this reporter and that extraordinary +man have been talking about a whale. They declare +authoritatively that I must go and pay it a visit, and I know +absolutely nothing about it all. These two gentlemen took my +carriage by storm; installed themselves in it without my permission, +and, as you see, are giving invitations in my name to +people I do not know, asking them to go with me to a place +about which I know nothing, for the purpose of paying a visit to +a whale which is to be introduced to me, and which is waiting +impatiently to die in peace.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>The kindly disposed gentleman signed to his daughter to come +with us, and, accompanied by them, and by Jarrett and Madame +Guérard, I went up in a lift to the door of my suite of rooms. +I found my apartments hung with valuable pictures and full of +magnificent statues. I felt rather disturbed in my mind, for +among these objects of art were two or three very rare and +beautiful things, which I knew must have cost an exorbitant +price. I was afraid lest any of them should be stolen, and I +spoke of my fear to the proprietor of the hotel.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_383'>383</span>“Mr. X., to whom the knick-knacks belong,” he answered, +“wished you to have them to look at as long as you are here, +Mademoiselle; and when I expressed my anxiety about them to +him, just as you have done to me, he merely remarked that ‘it +was all the same to him.’ As to the pictures, they belong to two +wealthy Bostonians.” There was among them a superb Millet, +which I should very much have liked to own.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After expressing my gratitude and admiring these treasures, I +asked for an explanation of the story of the whale, and Mr. Max +Gordon, the father of the little girl, translated for me what the +little man in the fur cap had said. It appeared that he owned +several fishing-boats, which he sent out cod-fishing for his own +benefit. One of these boats had captured an enormous whale, +which still had two harpoons in it. The poor creature was +thoroughly exhausted with its struggles, and only a few miles +distant along the coast, so it had been easy to capture it and bring +it in triumph to Henry Smith, the owner of the boats. It was +difficult to say by what freak of fancy and by what turn of the +imagination this man had arrived at associating in his mind the +idea of the whale and my name as a source of wealth. I could +not understand it, but the fact remained that he insisted in such +a droll way, and so authoritatively and energetically, that the +following morning at seven o’clock fifty of us assembled, in spite +of the icy cold rain, on the quay.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mr. Gordon had given orders that his mail coach with four +beautiful horses should be in readiness. He drove himself, and +his daughter, Jarrett, my sister, Madame Guérard, and another +elderly lady, whose name I have forgotten, were with us. Seven +other carriages followed. It was all very amusing indeed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On our arrival at the quay we were received by this comic +Henry, shaggy-looking this time from head to foot, and his +hands encased in fingerless woollen gloves. Only his eyes and +his huge diamond shone out from his furs. I walked along the +quay, very much amused and interested. There were a few +idlers looking on also, and alas!—three times over alas!—there +were reporters.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Henry’s shaggy paw then seized my hand, and he drew me +along with him quickly to the steps.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I only just escaped breaking my neck at least a dozen times. +He pushed me along, made me stumble down the ten steps +<span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span>of the basin, and I next found myself on the back of the whale. +They assured me that it still breathed, but I should not like to +affirm that it really did; but the splashing of the water breaking +its eddy against the poor creature caused it to oscillate slightly. +Then, too, it was covered with glazed frost, and twice I fell +down full length on its spine. I laugh about it now, but I was +furious then.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Every one around me insisted, however, on my pulling a piece +of whalebone from the blade of the poor captured creature, one +of those little bones which are used for women’s corsets. I did +not like to do this, as I feared to cause it suffering, and I was +sorry for the poor thing, as three of us—Henry, the little Gordon +girl, and I—had been skating about on its back for the last ten +minutes. Finally I decided to do it. I pulled out the little +whale bone, and went up the steps again, holding my poor +trophy in my hand. I felt nervous and flustered, and every one +surrounded me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was annoyed with this Henry Smith. I did not want to +return to the coach, as I thought I could hide bad temper better +in one of the huge, gloomy-looking landaus which followed, +but the charming Miss Gordon asked me so sweetly why I would +not ride with them that I felt my anger melt away before the +child’s smiling face.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Would you like to drive?” her father asked me, and I +accepted with pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jarrett immediately proceeded to get down from the coach as +quickly as his age and corpulence would allow him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“If you are going to drive I prefer getting down,” he said, +and he took a seat in another carriage. I changed places +boldly with Mr. Gordon in order to drive, and we had not gone +a hundred yards before I had let the horses make for a chemist’s +shop along the quay and got the coach itself up on to the footpath, +so that if it had not been for the quickness and energy of +Mr. Gordon we should all have been killed. On arriving at the +hotel I went to bed, and stayed there until it was time for the +theatre in the evening. We played <cite>Hernani</cite> that night to a +full house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The seats had been sold to the highest bidders, and considerable +prices were obtained for them. We gave fifteen performances +at Boston, at an average of nineteen thousand francs for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_385'>385</span>each performance. I was sorry to leave that city, as I had spent +two charming weeks there, my mind all the time on the alert +when holding conversations with the Boston women. They are +Puritans from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, but +they are indulgent, and there is no bitterness about their Puritanism. +What struck me most about the women of Boston was +the harmony of their gestures and the softness of their voices. +Brought up among the severest and harshest of traditions, the +Bostonian race seems to me to be the most refined and the +most mysterious of all the American races.</p> + +<p class='c013'>As the women are in the majority in Boston, many of the young +girls remain unmarried. All their vital forces which they +cannot expend in love and in maternity they employ in fortifying +and making supple the beauty of their body by means of +exercise and sports, without losing any of their grace. All the +reserves of heart are expended in intellectuality. They adore +music, the stage, literature, painting, and poetry. They know +everything and understand everything, are chaste and reserved, +and neither laugh nor talk very loud.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They are as far removed from the Latin race as the North +Pole is from the South Pole, but they are interesting, delightful, +and captivating.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was therefore with a rather heavy heart that I left Boston +for New Haven, and to my great surprise, on arriving at the +hotel there I found Henry Smith the famous whale man.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, Heavens!” I exclaimed, flinging myself into an arm-chair, +“what does this man want now with me?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was not left in ignorance very long, for the most infernal +noise of brass instruments, drums, trumpets, and, I should think, +saucepans, drew me to the window. I saw an immense carriage +surrounded by an escort of negroes dressed as minstrels. On this +carriage was an abominable, monstrous coloured advertisement +representing me standing on the whale, tearing away its blade +while it struggled to defend itself.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Some sandwich-men followed with posters on which were +written the following words:</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_386'>386</span>“<span class='sc'>Come and see</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>the enormous cetacean</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>which</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>Sarah Bernhardt</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>killed</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>by tearing out its whalebone for her corsets.</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>These are made by Madame Lily Noe,</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>who lives,” etc. etc.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>Some of the other sandwich-men carried posters with these +words:</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>“<span class='sc'>The whale is just as flourishing</span> (<em>sic</em>) <span class='sc'>as</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>when it was alive!</span></div> + <div class='c002'>It has five hundred dollars’ worth of salt in its stomach,</div> + <div>and every day the ice upon which it is resting is</div> + <div>renewed at a cost of one hundred dollars!”</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>My face turned more livid than that of a corpse, and my teeth +chattered with fury on seeing this.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Henry Smith advanced towards me, and I struck him in my +anger, and then rushed away to my room, where I sobbed with +vexation, disgust, and utter weariness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I wanted to start back to Europe at once, but Jarrett showed +me my contract. I then wanted to take steps to have this +odious exhibition stopped, and in order to calm me I was promised +that this should be done, but in reality nothing was done +at all.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two days later I was at Hartford, and the same whale was +there. It continued its tour as I continued mine.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They gave it more salt and renewed its ice, and it went on its +way, so that I came across it everywhere. I took proceedings +about it, but in every State I was obliged to begin all over again, +as the law varied in the different States. And every time I +arrived at a fresh hotel I found there an immense bouquet +awaiting me, with the horrible card of the showman of the whale. +I threw his flowers on the ground and trampled on them, and +much as I love flowers, I had a horror of these. Jarrett went to +see the man and begged him not to send me any more bouquets, +but it was all of no use, as it was the man’s way of avenging the +box on the ears I had given him. Then too he could not understand +<span class='pageno' id='Page_387'>387</span>my anger. He was making any amount of money, and had even +proposed that I should accept a percentage of the receipts. Ah, +I would willingly have killed that execrable Smith, for he was +poisoning my life. I could see nothing else in all the different +cities I visited, and I used to shut my eyes to go from the hotel +to the theatre. When I heard the minstrels I used to fly into a +rage and turn green with anger. Fortunately I was able to rest +when once I reached Montreal, where I was not followed by this +show. I should certainly have been ill if it had continued, as I +saw nothing but that, I could think of nothing else, and my very +dreams were about it. It haunted me; it was an obsession and +a perpetual nightmare. When I left Hartford, Jarrett swore to +me that Smith would not be at Montreal, as he had been taken +suddenly ill. I strongly suspected that Jarrett had found a way +of administering to him some violent kind of medicine which +had stopped his journeying for the time. I felt sure of this, as +the ferocious gentleman laughed so heartily <i><span lang="fr">en route</span></i>, but anyhow +I was infinitely grateful to him for ridding me of the man for +the present.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_388'>388</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXV<br> <span class='large'>MONTREAL’S GRAND RECEPTION—THE POET FRÉCHETTE—AN ESCAPADE ON THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>At last we arrived at Montreal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>For a long time, ever since my earliest childhood, I had +dreamed about Canada. I had always heard my godfather +regret, with considerable fury, the surrender of that territory by +France to England.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had heard him enumerate, without very clearly understanding +them, the pecuniary advantages of Canada, the immense fortune +that lay in its lands, &c., and that country had seemed to my +imagination the far-off promised land.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Awakened some considerable time before by the strident +whistle of the engine, I asked what time it was. Eleven o’clock +in the evening, I was informed. We were within fifteen minutes +of the station. The sky was black and smooth, like a steel +shield. Lanterns placed at distant intervals caught the whiteness +of the snow heaped up there for how many days? The +train stopped suddenly, and then started again with such a slow +and timid movement that I fancied that there might be a possibility +of its running off the rails. But a deadened sound, growing +louder every second, fell upon my attentive ears. This sound +soon resolved itself into music—and it was in the midst of +a formidable “Hurrah! long live France!” shouted by ten +thousand throats, strengthened by an orchestra playing the +“Marseillaise” with a frenzied fury, that we made our entry +into Montreal.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The place where the train stopped in those days was very +narrow. A somewhat high bank served as a rampart for the +slight platform of the station.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Standing on the small step of my carriage, I looked with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_389'>389</span>emotion upon the strange spectacle I had before me. The bank +was packed with bears holding lanterns. There were hundreds +and hundreds of them. In the narrow space between the bank +and the train, which had come to a stop, there were more bears, +large and small, and I wondered with terror how I should manage +to reach my sleigh.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jarrett and Abbey caused the crowd to make way, and I got +out. But a deputy, whose name I cannot make out on my notes +(what commendation for my writing!)—a deputy advanced +towards me and handed me an address signed by the notabilities +of the city. I returned thanks as best I could, and took the +magnificent bouquet of flowers that was tendered in the name of +the signatories to the address. When I lifted the flowers to my +face in order to smell them I hurt myself slightly with their +pretty petals, which were frozen by the cold.</p> + +<p class='c013'>However, I began myself to feel both arms and legs were +getting benumbed. The cold crept over my whole body. That +night, it appears, was one of the coldest that had been experienced +for many years past.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The women who had come to be present at the arrival of the +French company had been compelled to withdraw into the interior +of the station, with the exception of Mrs. Jos. Doutre, who +handed me a bouquet of rare flowers and gave me a kiss. The +temperature was twenty-two degrees below zero. I whispered +low to Jarrett, “Let us continue our journey; I am turning +into ice. In ten minutes I shall not be able to move a step.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jarrett repeated my words to Abbey, who applied to the Chief +of Police. The latter gave orders in English, and another police +officer repeated them in French. And we were able to proceed +for a few yards. But the main station was still some way off. +The crowd grew bigger, and at one time I felt as though I were +about to faint. I took courage, however, holding or rather +hanging on to the arms of Jarrett and Abbey. Every minute +I thought I should fall, for the platform was like a mirror.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were obliged, however, to stay further progress. A +hundred lanterns, held aloft by a hundred students’ hands, +suddenly lit up the place.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A tall young man separated himself from the group and came +straight towards me, holding a wide unrolled piece of paper, and +in a loud voice declaimed:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c017'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in14'><span class='pageno' id='Page_390'>390</span>A SARAH BERNHARDT.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Salut, Sarah! salut, charmante dona Sol!</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Lorsque ton pied mignon vient fouler notre sol,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Notre sol tout couvert de givre,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Est-ce frisson d’orgueil ou d’amour? je ne sais;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Mais nous sentons courir dans notre sang français</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Quelque chose qui nous enivre!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Femme vaillante au cœur saturé d’idéal,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Puisque tu n’as pas craint notre ciel boréal,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Ni redouté nos froids sévères.</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Merci! De l’âpre hiver pour longtemps prisonniers,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Nous rêvons à ta vue aux rayons printaniers</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Qui font fleurir les primevères!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Oui, c’est au doux printemps que tu nous fais rêver!</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Oiseau des pays bleus, lorsque tu viens braver</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">L’horreur de nos saisons perfides,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Aux clairs rayonnements d’un chaud soleil de mai,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Nous croyons voir, du fond d’un bosquet parfumé,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Surgir la reine des sylphides.</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Mais non: de floréal ni du blond messidor,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Tu n’es pas, O Sarah, la fée aux ailes d’or</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Qui vient répandre l’ambroisie;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Nous saluons en toi l’artiste radieux</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Qui sut cueillir d’assaut dans le jardin des dieux</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Toutes les fleurs de poesie!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Que sous ta main la toile anime son réseau;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Que le paros brilliant vive sous ton ciseau,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Ou l’argile sous ton doigt rose;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Que sur la scène, au bruit délirant des bravos,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">En types toujours vrais, quoique toujours nouveaux,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Ton talent se métamorphose;</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Soit que, peintre admirable ou sculpteur souverain,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Toi-même oses ravir la muse au front serein,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">A ta sourire toujours prête;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Soit qu’aux mille vivats de la foule à genoux,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Des grands maîtres anciens ou modernes, pour nous</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Ta voix se fasse l’interprète;</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Des bords de la Tamise aux bords du Saint-Laurent,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Qu’il soit enfant du peuple ou brille au premier rang,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Laissant glapir la calomnie,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Tour à tour par ton œuvre et ta grâce enchanté</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Chacun courbe le front devant la majesté</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">De ton universel génie!</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_391'>391</span><span lang="fr">Salut donc, O Sarah! salut, O dona Sol!</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Lorsque ton pied mignon vient fouler notre sol,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">Te montrer de l’indifférence</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Serait à notre sang nous-mêmes faire affront;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="fr">Car l’étoile qui luit la plus belle à ton front,</span></div> + <div class='line in8'><span lang="fr">C’est encore celle de la France!</span></div> + <div class='line in36'><span lang="fr"><span class='sc'>Louis Fréchette.</span></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>He read very well, it is true; but those lines, read at a +temperature of twenty-two degrees of cold to a poor woman +dumfounded through listening to a frenzied “Marseillaise,” +stunned by the mad hurrahs from ten thousand throats delirious +with patriotic fervour, were more than my strength could bear.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I made superhuman efforts at resistance, but was overwhelmed +with fatigue. Everything appeared to be turning round in a +mad farandole. I felt myself raised from the ground, and heard +a voice which seemed to come from far away, “Make room for +our French lady!” Then I heard nothing further, and only +recovered my senses in my room at the Hotel Windsor.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My sister Jeanne had become separated from me by the +movement of the crowd. But the poet Fréchette, a Franco-Canadian, +acted as escort, and brought her several minutes +later, safe and sound, but trembling on my account, and this is +what she told me. “Just imagine. When the crowd was +pressing against you, seized with terror on seeing your head fall +back with closed eyes on to Abbey’s shoulder,” I shouted out, +‘Help! My sister is being killed.’ I had become mad. A +man of enormous size, who had followed us for a long time, +worked his elbows and hips to make the enthusiastic but overexcited +mob give way, with a quick movement placed himself +before you just in time to prevent you from falling. The +man, whose face I could not see on account of its being hidden +beneath a fur cap, the ear flaps of which covered almost his +entire face, raised you up as though you had been a flower, +and held forth to the crowd in English. I did not understand +anything he said, but the Canadians were struck with it, for the +pushing ceased, and the crowd separated into two compact files +in order to let you pass through. I can assure you that it made +me feel quite impressed to see you, so slender, with your head +back, and the whole of your poor frame borne at arm’s length by +that Hercules. I followed as fast as I could, but having caught +<span class='pageno' id='Page_392'>392</span>my foot in the flounce of my skirt, I had to stop for a second, +and that second was enough to separate us completely. The +crowd, having closed up after your passage, formed an impenetrable +barrier. “I can assure you, dear sister, that I felt +anything but at ease, and it was M. Fréchette who saved me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I shook the hand of that worthy gentleman, and thanked him +this time as well as I could for his fine poem; then I spoke to +him of other poems of his, a volume of which I had obtained at +New York, for alas! to my shame I must acknowledge it, I knew +nothing about Fréchette up to the time of my departure from +France, and yet he was already known a little in Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was very much touched with the several lines I dwelt +upon as the finest of his work. He thanked me. We +remained friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The day following, nine o’clock had hardly struck when a +card was sent up to me on which were written these words, “He +who had the joy of saving you, Madame, begs that your kindness +will grant him a moment’s interview.” I directed that the man +should be shown into the drawing-room, and after notifying +Jarrett, went to waken my sister. “Come with me,” I said. +She slipped on a Chinese dressing-gown, and we went in the +direction of the large, the immense drawing-room of my suite, +for a bicycle would have been necessary to traverse without +fatigue the entire length of my rooms, drawing-room, dining-room and bedroom. On opening the door I was struck by the +beauty of the man who was before me. He was very tall, with wide +shoulders, small head, a hard look, hair thick and curly, tanned +complexion. The man was fine-looking, but seemed uneasy. He +blushed slightly on seeing me. I expressed my gratitude, and +asked to be excused for my foolish weakness. I received joyfully +the bouquet of violets he handed me. On taking leave he said +in a low voice, “If you ever hear who I am, swear that you will +only think of the slight service I have rendered you.” At that +moment Jarrett entered. His face was pale, as he walked towards +the stranger and spoke to him in English. I could, however, +catch the words, “detective ... door ... assassination ... +impossibility ... New Orleans.” The stranger’s sunburnt +complexion became chalky, his nostrils quivered as he glanced +towards the door. Then, as flight appeared impossible, he +looked at Jarrett and in a peremptory tone, as cold as flint, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_393'>393</span>said, “Well!” as he went towards the door. My hands, +which had opened under the stupor, let fall his bouquet, which +he picked up whilst looking at me with a supplicating and +appealing air. I understood, and said to him in a loud tone of +voice, “I swear to it, Monsieur.” The man disappeared with +his flowers. I heard the uproar of people behind the door and +of the crowd in the street. I did not wish to listen to anything +further.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When my sister, of a romantic and foolish turn of mind, +wished to tell me about the horrible thing, I closed my ears.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Four months afterwards, when an attempt was made to read +aloud to me an account of his death by hanging, I refused to +hear anything about it. And now after twenty-six years have +passed and I know, I only wish to remember the service +rendered and my pledged word.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This incident left me somewhat sad. The anger of the +Bishop of Montreal was necessary to enable me to regain my +good humour. That prelate, after holding forth in the pulpit +against the immorality of French literature, forbade his flock +to go the theatre. He spoke violently and spitefully against +modern France. As to Scribe’s play (<cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>), +he tore it into shreds, as it were, declaiming against the immoral +love of the <i><span lang="fr">comédienne</span></i> and of the hero and against the adulterous +love of the Princesse de Bouillon. But the truth showed itself +in spite of all, and he cried out, with fury intensified by outrage: +“In this infamous lucubration of French authors there is a court +abbé, who, thanks to the unbounded licentiousness of his expressions, +constitutes a direct insult to the clergy.” Finally he +pronounced an anathema against Scribe, who was already dead, +against Legouvé, against me, and against all my company. The +result was that crowds came from everywhere, and the four +performances, <cite><span lang="fr">Adrienne Lecouvreur</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>, <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux +Camélias</span></cite> (matinée), and <cite><span lang="fr">Hernani</span></cite> had a colossal success and +brought in fabulous receipts.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was invited by the poet Fréchette and a banker whose name +I do not remember to pay a visit to the Iroquois. I accepted +with joy, and went there accompanied by my sister, Jarrett, and +Angelo, who was always ready for a dangerous excursion. I +felt in safety in the presence of this artiste, full of bravery and +composure, and gifted with herculean strength. The only +<span class='pageno' id='Page_394'>394</span>thing he lacked to make him perfect was talent. He had none +then, and never did have any.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The St. Lawrence river was frozen over almost entirely; +we crossed it in a carriage along a route indicated by two rows +of branches fixed in the ice. We had four carriages. The +distance between Caughnanwaga and Montreal was five +kilometres.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This visit to the Iroquois was deliciously enchanting. I +was introduced to the chief, father, and mayor of the Iroquois +tribes. Alas! this former chief, son of “Big White Eagle,” +surnamed during his childhood “Sun of the Nights,” now +clothed in sorry European rags, was selling liquor, thread, +needles, flax, pork fat, chocolate, &c. All that remained of his +mad rovings through the old wild forests—when he roamed +naked over a land free of all allegiance—was the stupor of the +bull held prisoner by the horns. It is true he also sold brandy, +and that he quenched his thirst, as did all of them, at that +source of forgetfulness.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Sun of the Nights introduced me to his daughter, a girl of +eighteen to twenty years of age, insipid, and devoid of beauty +and grace.</p> + +<p class='c013'>She sat down at the piano and played a tune that was popular +at the time—I do not remember what. I was in a hurry to +leave the store, the home of these two victims of civilisation.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I visited Caughnanwaga, but found no pleasure in it. The +same compression of the throat, the same retrospective anguish, +caused me to revolt against man’s cowardice which hid under +the name of civilisation the most unjust and most protected of +crimes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned to Montreal somewhat sad and tired. The success +of our four performances was extraordinary, but what gave +them a special charm in my eyes was the infernal and joyous +noise made by the students. The doors of the theatre were +opened every day one hour in advance for them. They then +arranged matters to suit themselves. Most of them were gifted +with magnificent voices. They separated into groups according +to the requirements of the songs they wished to sing. They +then prepared, by means of a strong string worked by a pulley, +the aerial route that was to be followed by the flower-bedecked +baskets which descended from their paradise to where I was. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_395'>395</span>They tied ribbons round the necks of doves bearing sonnets and +good wishes.</p> + +<p class='c013'>These flowers and birds were sent off during the “calls,” and +by a happy disposition of the strings the flowers fell at my feet, +the doves flew where their astonishment led them; and every +evening these messages of grace and beauty were repeated. I +experienced considerable emotion the first evening. The Marquis +of Lorne, son-in-law of Queen Victoria, Governor of Canada, +was of royal punctuality. The students knew it. The house +was noisy and quivering. Through an opening in the curtain I +gazed on the composition of this assembly. All of a sudden a +silence came over it without any outward reason for it, and the +“Marseillaise” was sung by three hundred warm young male +voices. With a courtesy full of grandeur the Governor stood up +at the first notes of our national hymn. The whole house was +on its feet in a second, and the magnificent anthem echoed in +our hearts like a call from the mother-country. I do not believe +I ever heard the “Marseillaise” sung with keener emotion and +unanimity. As soon as it was over, the plaudits of the crowd +broke out three times over; then, upon a sharp gesture from the +Governor, the band played “God save the Queen.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I never saw a prouder or more dignified gesture than that of +the Marquis of Lorne when he motioned to the conductor of the +orchestra. He was quite willing to allow these sons of submissive +Frenchmen to feel a regret, perhaps even a flickering hope. The +first on his feet, he listened to that fine plaint with respect, but +he smothered its last echo beneath the English National +Anthem.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Being an Englishman, he was incontestably right in doing so.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I gave for the last performance, on December 25, Christmas +Day, <cite>Hernani</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The Bishop of Montreal again thundered against me, against +Scribe and Legouvé, and the poor artistes who had come with me, +who could not help it. I do not know whether he did not even +threaten to excommunicate all of us, living and dead. Lovers +of France and French art, in order to reply to his abusive +attack, unyoked my horses, and my sleigh was almost carried by +an immense crowd, among which were the deputies and notabilities +of the city.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One has only to consult the daily papers of that period to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_396'>396</span>realise the crushing effect caused by such a triumphant return to +my hotel.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The day following, Sunday, I went at seven o’clock in the +morning, in company with Jarrett and my sister, for a promenade +on the banks of the St. Lawrence river. At a given moment +I ordered the carriage to stop, with the object of walking a little +way.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My sister laughingly said, “What if we climb on to that large +piece of ice that seems ready to crack?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>No sooner thought of than done.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And behold both of us walking on the ice, trying to break it +loose! All of a sudden a loud shout from Jarrett made us +understand that we had succeeded. As a matter of fact, our ice +barque was already floating free in the narrow channel of the river +that remained always open on account of the force of the current. +My sister and I sat down, for the piece of ice rocked about in +every direction, making both of us laugh inordinately. Jarrett’s +cries caused people to gather. Men armed with boat-hooks +endeavoured to stop our progress, but it was not easy, for the +edges of the channel were too friable to bear the weight of a man. +Ropes were thrown out to us. We caught hold of one of them +with our four hands, but the sudden pull of the men in drawing +us towards them cast our raft so suddenly against the ice edges +that it broke in two, and we remained, full of fear this time, on +one small part of our skiff. I laughed no longer, for we were +beginning to travel somewhat fast, and the channel was opening +out in width. But in one of the turns it made we were fortunately +squeezed in between two immense blocks, and to this fact +we owed being able to escape with our lives.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The men who had followed our very rapid ride with real +courage climbed on to the blocks. A harpoon was thrown with +marvellous skill on to our icy wreck so as to retain us in our +position, for the current, rather strong underneath, might have +caused us to move. A ladder was brought and planted against +one of the large blocks; its steps afforded us means of delivery. +My sister was the first to climb up, and I followed, somewhat +ashamed at our ridiculous escapade.</p> + +<p class='c013'>During the length of time required to regain the bank the +carriage, with Jarrett in it, was able to rejoin us. He was +pallid, not from fear of the danger I had undergone, but at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_397'>397</span>idea that if I died the tour would come to an end. He said to +me quite seriously, “If you had lost your life, Madame, you +would have been dishonest, for you would have broken your +contract of your own free will.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had just enough time to get to the station, where the +train was ready to take me to Springfield.</p> + +<p class='c013'>An immense crowd was waiting, and it was with the same cry +of love, underlined with <i><span lang="fr">au revoirs</span></i>, that the Canadian public +wished us good-bye.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_398'>398</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXVI<br> <span class='large'>SPRINGFIELD—BALTIMORE—PHILADELPHIA—CHICAGO—ADVENTURES BETWEEN ST. LOUIS AND CINCINNATI—CAPITAL PUNISHMENT</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>After our immense and noisy success at Montreal, we were +somewhat surprised with the icy welcome of the public at +Springfield.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We played <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>—in America <cite>Camille</cite>, +why, no one was ever able to tell me. This play, which the +public rushed to see in crowds, shocked the over-strained Puritanism +of the small American towns. The critics of the large +cities discussed this modern Magdalene. But those of the small +towns began by throwing stones at her. This stilted reserve on +the part of the public, prejudiced against the impurity of +Marguerite Gautier, we met with from time to time in the +small cities. Springfield at that time had barely thirty thousand +inhabitants.</p> + +<p class='c013'>During the day I passed at Springfield I called at a gunsmith’s to +purchase a rifle. The salesman showed me into a long +and very narrow courtyard, where I tried several shots. On +turning round I was surprised and confused to see two gentlemen +taking an interest in my shooting. I wished to withdraw at +once, but one of them came up to me:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Would you like, Madame, to come and fire off a cannon?” I +almost fell to the ground with surprise, and did not reply for a +second. Then I said, “Yes, I would.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>An appointment was made with my strange questioner, who +was the director of the Colt gun factory. An hour afterwards I +went to the rendezvous.</p> + +<p class='c013'>More than thirty people who had been hastily invited were +there already. It got on my nerves a trifle. I fired off the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_399'>399</span>newly invented quick-firing cannon. It amused me very much +without procuring me any emotion, and that evening, after the +icy performance, we left for Baltimore with a vertiginous rush, +the play having finished later than the hour fixed for the departure +of the train. It was necessary to catch it up at any cost. +The three enormous carriages that made up my special train went +off under full steam. With two engines, we bounded over the +metals and dropped again, thanks to some miracle.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We finally succeeded in catching up the express, which +knew we were on its track, having been warned by telegram. It +made a short stop, just long enough to couple us to it anyhow, +and in that way we reached Baltimore, where I stayed four days +and gave five performances.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Two things struck me in that city: the deadly cold in the +hotels and the theatre, and the loveliness of the women.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt a profound sadness at Baltimore, for I spent the 1st of +January far from everything that was dear to me. I wept all +night, and underwent that moment of discouragement that makes +one wish for death.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Our success, however, had been colossal in that charming city, +which I left with regret to go to Philadelphia, where we were to +remain a week.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That handsome city I do not care for. I received an enthusiastic +welcome there, in spite of a change of programme the first +evening. Two artistes having missed the train, we could not play +<cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>, and I had to replace it by <cite>Phèdre</cite>, the only +piece in which the absentees could be replaced. The receipts +averaged twenty thousand francs for the seven performances +given in six days. My sojourn was saddened by a letter +announcing the death of my friend Gustave Flaubert, the +writer who had the beauty of our language at heart.</p> + +<p class='c013'>From Philadelphia we proceeded to Chicago.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the station I was received by a deputation of Chicago +ladies, and a bouquet of rare flowers was handed to me by a +delightful young lady, Madame Lily B.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jarrett then led me into one of the rooms of the station, +where the French delegates were waiting.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A very short but highly emotional speech from our Consul +spread confidence and friendly feelings among every one, and +after having returned heartfelt thanks, I was preparing to leave +<span class='pageno' id='Page_400'>400</span>the station, when I stopped stupefied—and it seems that my +features assumed such an intense expression of suffering that +everybody ran towards me to offer assistance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>But a sudden anger electrified all my being, and I walked +straight towards the horrible vision that had just appeared +before me—the whale man! He was alive, that terrible Smith!—enveloped in furs, with diamonds on all of his fingers. He +was there with a bouquet in his hand, the wretched brute! I +refused the flowers and repulsed him with all my strength, +increased tenfold by anger, and a flood of confused words escaped +from my pallid lips. But this scene charmed him, for it was +repeated and spread about, magnified, and the whale had more +visitors than ever.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went to the Palmer House, one of the most magnificent +hotels of that day, whose proprietor, Mr. Potter-Palmer, was a +perfect gentleman, courteous, kind, and generous, for he filled the +immense apartment I occupied with the rarest flowers, and taxed +his ingenuity in order to have my meals cooked and served in the +French style, a difficult matter in those days.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were to remain a fortnight in Chicago. Our success +exceeded all expectations. These two weeks seemed to me the +most agreeable days I had had since my arrival in America. +First of all, there was the vitality of the city in which men pass +each other without ever stopping, with knitted brows, with one +thought in mind, “the end to attain.” They move on and on, never +turning for a cry or prudent warning. What takes place behind +them matters little. They do not wish to know why a cry is +raised, and they have no time to be prudent: “the end to +attain” awaits them.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Women here, as everywhere else in America, do not work, but +they do not stroll about the streets, as in other cities: they walk +quickly; they also are in a hurry to seek amusement. During +the day-time I went some distance into the surrounding country +in order not to meet the sandwich-men advertising the whale.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day I went to the pigs’ slaughter-house. Ah, what +a dreadful and magnificent sight! There were three of us, +my sister, myself, and an Englishman, a friend of mine.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arrival we saw hundreds of pigs hurrying, bunched together, +grunting and snorting, along a small narrow raised bridge.</p> + +<div id='i400fp' class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/i400fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>SARAH BERNHARDT AND MEMBERS OF HER<br> COMPANY OUT SHOOTING</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_401'>401</span>Our carriage passed under this bridge, and stopped before +a group of men who were waiting for us. The manager of the +stock-yards received us and led the way to the special slaughterhouses. +On entering into the immense shed, which is dimly +lighted by windows with greasy and ruddy panes, an abominable +smell gets into your throat, a smell that only leaves one several +days afterwards. A sanguinary mist rises everywhere, like +a light cloud floating on the side of a mountain and lit up by +the setting sun. An infernal hubbub drums itself into your +brain: the almost human cries of the pigs being slaughtered, +the violent strokes of the hatchets lopping off the limbs, the +repeated shouts of the “ripper,” who with a superb and sweeping +gesture lifts the heavy hatchet, and with one stroke opens from +top to bottom the unfortunate, quivering animal hung on a +hook. During the terror of the moment one hears the continuous +grating of the revolving razor which in one second +removes the bristles from the trunk thrown to it by the machine +that has cut off the four legs; the whistle of the escaping +steam from the hot water in which the head of the animal is +scalded; the rippling of the water that is constantly renewed; +the cascade of the waste water; the rumbling of the small trains +carrying under wide arches trucks loaded with hams, sausages, +&c., and the whistling of the engines warning one of the danger +of their approach, which in this spot of terrible massacre seems +to be the perpetual knell of wretched agonies.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Nothing was more Hoffmanesque than this slaughter of pigs +at the period I am speaking about, for since then a sentiment of +humanity has crept, although still somewhat timidly, into this +temple of porcine hecatombs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned from this visit quite ill. That evening I played +in <cite>Phèdre</cite>. I went on to the stage quite unnerved, and trying +to do everything to get rid of the horrible vision of the stock-yard. +I threw myself heart and soul into my <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, so much so +that at the end of the fourth act I absolutely fainted on the +stage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On the day of my last performance a magnificent collar of +camellias in diamonds was handed me on behalf of the ladies of +Chicago. I left that city fond of everything in it: its people; +its lake, as big as a small inland sea; its audiences, who were so +enthusiastic; everything, everything—except its stock-yards.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did not even bear any ill-will towards the Bishop, who also, as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_402'>402</span>had happened in other cities, had denounced my art and French +literature. By the violence of his sermons he had, as a matter +of fact, advertised us so well that Mr. Abbey, the manager, wrote +the following letter to him:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“Your Grace ——, Whenever I visit your city, I am accustomed to spend four hundred dollars in advertising. But as +you have done the advertising for me, I send you two hundred +dollars for your poor.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r c020'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Henry Abbey.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>We left Chicago to go to St. Louis, where we arrived after +having covered 283 miles in fourteen hours.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In the drawing-room of my car, Abbey and Jarrett showed +me the statement of the sixty-two performances that had been +given since our arrival. The gross receipts were $227,459, +that is to say, 1,137,295 francs, an average of 18,343 francs per +performance. This gave me great pleasure on Henry Abbey’s +account, for he had lost all he had in his previous tour with an +admirable troop of opera artistes, and greater pleasure still on +my own account, as I was to receive a good share of the +takings.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We stayed at St. Louis all the week, from January 24 to 31. +I must admit that this city, which was specially French, was less +to my liking than the other American cities, as it was dirty and +the hotels were not very comfortable. Since then St. Louis has +made great strides, but it was the Germans who planted there +the bulb of progress. At the time of which I speak, the year +1881, the city was repulsively dirty. In those days, alas! we +were not great at colonising, and all the cities where French +influence preponderated were poor and behind the times. I was +bored to death at St. Louis, and I wanted to leave the place at +once, after paying an indemnity to the manager, but Jarrett, +the upright man, the stern man of duty, the ferocious man, said +to me, holding my contract in his hand:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, Madame; you must stay. You can die of <i><span lang="fr">ennui</span></i> here if +you like, but stay you must.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>By way of entertaining me he took me to a celebrated grotto +where we were to see some millions of fish without eyes. The +light had never penetrated into this grotto, and as the first fish +who lived there had no use for their eyes, their descendants had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_403'>403</span>no eyes at all. We went to see this grotto. It was a long way +off. We went down and groped our way to the grotto very +cautiously, on all fours like cats. The road seemed to me +interminable, but at last the guide told us that we had arrived +at our destination. We were able to stand upright again, as +the grotto itself was higher. I could see nothing, but I heard +a match being struck, and the guide then lighted a small lantern. +Just in front of me, nearly at my feet, was a rather deep natural +basin. “You see,” remarked our guide phlegmatically, “that +is the pond, but just at present there is no water in it; neither +are there any fish. You must come again in three months’ +time.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jarrett made such a fearful grimace that I was seized with an +uncontrollable fit of laughter, of that kind of laughter which +borders on madness. I was suffocated with it, and I choked +and laughed till the tears came. I then went down into the +basin of the pond in search of a relic of some kind, a little +skeleton of a dead fish, or anything, no matter what. There +was nothing to be found, though—absolutely nothing. We +had to return on all fours, as we came. I made Jarrett +go first, and the sight of his big back in his fur coat and +of him walking on hands and feet, grumbling and swearing as +he went, gave me such delight that I no longer regretted anything, +and I gave ten dollars to the guide for his ineffable +surprise.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We returned to the hotel, and I was informed that a jeweller +had been waiting for me more than two hours. “A jeweller!” +I exclaimed; “but I have no intention of buying any jewellery. +I have too much as it is.” Jarrett, however, winked at Abbey, +who was there as we entered. I saw at once that there was +some understanding between the jeweller and my two <i><span lang="fr">impresarii</span></i>. +I was told that my ornaments needed cleaning, +that the jeweller would undertake to make them look like new, +repair them if they required it, and in a word exhibit them. +I rebelled, but it was of no use. Jarrett assured me that the +ladies of St. Louis were particularly fond of shows of this kind. +He said it would be an excellent advertisement; that my +jewellery was very much tarnished, that several stones were +missing, and that this man would replace them for nothing. +“What a saving!” he added. “Just think of it!”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_404'>404</span>I gave up, for discussions of that kind bore me to death, and +two days later the ladies of St. Louis went to admire my ornaments +in this jeweller’s show-cases under a blaze of light. Poor +Madame Guérard, who also went to see them, came back horrified.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“They have added to your things,” she said, “sixteen pairs +of ear-rings, two necklaces, and thirty rings; a lorgnette studded +with diamonds and rubies, a gold cigarette-holder set with +turquoises; a small pipe, the amber mouthpiece of which is +encircled with diamond stars; sixteen bracelets, a tooth-pick +studded with sapphires, a pair of spectacles with gold mounts +ending with small acorns of pearls.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“They must have been made specially,” said poor Guérard, +“for there can’t be any one who would wear such glasses, and, on +them were written the words, ‘Spectacles which Madame Sarah +Bernhardt wears when she is at home.’”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I certainly thought that this was exceeding all the limits +allowed to advertisement. To make me smoke pipes and wear +spectacles was going rather too far, and I got into my +carriage and drove at once to the jeweller’s. I arrived +just in time to find the place closed. It was five o’clock on +Saturday afternoon; the lights were out, and everything was +dark and silent. I returned to the hotel, and spoke to Jarrett +of my annoyance. “What does it all matter, Madame?” he said +tranquilly. “So many girls wear spectacles; and as to the pipe, +the jeweller tells me he has received five orders from it, and that +it is going to be quite the fashion. Anyhow, it is of no use +worrying about the matter, as the exhibition is now over. Your +jewellery will be returned to-night, and we leave here the day +after to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>That evening the jeweller returned all the objects I had lent +him, and they had been polished and repaired so that they looked +quite new. He had included with them a gold cigarette-holder +set with turquoises, the very one that had been on view. I +simply could not make that man understand anything, and my +anger cooled down when confronted by his pleasant manner and +his joy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This advertisement, though, came very near costing me +my life. Tempted by this huge quantity of jewellery, the +greater part of which did not belong to me, a little band of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_405'>405</span>sharpers planned to rob me, believing that they would find all +these valuables in the large hand-bag which my steward always +carried.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On Sunday, January 30, we left St. Louis at eight o’clock in +the morning for Cincinnati. I was in my magnificently appointed +Pullman car, and I had requested that the car should be put at +the end of our special train, so that from the platform I might +enjoy the beauty of the landscape, which passes before one +like a continually changing living panorama.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had scarcely been more than ten minutes <i><span lang="fr">en route</span></i> when +the guard suddenly stooped down and looked over the little +balcony. He then drew back quickly, and his face turned pale. +Seizing my hand, he said in a very excited tone in English, +“Please go inside, Madame!” I understood that we were in +danger of some kind. He pulled the alarm signal, made a sign +to another guard, and before the train had quite come to a +standstill the two men sprang down and disappeared under the +train.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The guard had fired a revolver in order to attract every one’s +attention, and Jarrett, Abbey, and the artistes hurried out into +the narrow corridor. I found myself in the midst of them, and +to our stupefaction we saw the two guards dragging out from +underneath my compartment a man armed to the teeth. With +a revolver held to his temple on either side, he decided to confess +the truth of the matter.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The jeweller’s exhibition had excited the envy of all the gangs +of thieves, and this man had been despatched by an organised +band at St. Louis to relieve me of my jewellery.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was to unhook my carriage from the rest of the train +between St. Louis and Cincinnati, at a certain spot known as the +“Little Incline.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As this was to be done during the night, and as my carriage +was the last, the thing was comparatively easy, since it was only +a question of lifting the enormous hook and drawing it out of the +link.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The man, a veritable giant, was fastened on to my carriage. +We examined his apparatus, and found that it merely consisted +of very thick wide straps of leather about half a yard wide. +By means of these he was secured firmly to the underpart of the +train, with his hands perfectly free. The courage and the <i><span lang="fr">sang-froid</span></i> +<span class='pageno' id='Page_406'>406</span>of that man were admirable. He told us that seven armed +men were waiting for us at the Little Incline, and that they +certainly would not have injured us if we had not attempted to +resist, for all they wanted was my jewellery and the money which +the secretary carried (two thousand three hundred dollars). Oh, +he knew everything; he knew every one’s name, and he gabbled +on in bad French, “Oh, as for you, Madame, we should not have +done you any harm, in spite of your pretty little revolver. We +should even have let you keep it.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>And so this man and his gang knew that the secretary slept +at my end of the train, and that he was not to be dreaded much +(poor Chatterton!); that he had with him two thousand three +hundred dollars, and that I had a very prettily chased revolver, +ornamented with cats-eyes. The man was firmly bound and +taken in charge by the two guards, and the train was then backed +into St. Louis; we had only started a quarter of an hour +before. The police were informed, and they sent us five detectives. +A goods train which should have departed half an hour +before us was sent on ahead of us. Eight detectives travelled on +this goods train, and received orders to get out at the Little +Incline. Our giant was handed over to the police authorities, but +I was promised that he should be dealt with mercifully on account +of the confession he had made. Later on I learnt that this +promise had been kept, as the man was sent back to his native +country, Ireland.</p> + +<p class='c013'>From this time forth my compartment was always placed +between two others every night. In the day-time I was allowed +to have my carriage at the end on condition that I would agree +to have on the platform an armed detective whom I was to pay, +by the way, for his services. Our dinner was very gay, and every +one was rather excited. As to the guard who had discovered the +giant hidden under the train, Abbey and I had rewarded him so +lavishly that he was intoxicated, and kept coming on every occasion +to kiss my hand and weep his drunkard’s tears, repeating all +the time, “I saved the French lady; I’m a gentleman.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>When finally we approached the Little Incline, it was dark. +The engine-driver wanted to rush along at full speed, but we had +not gone five miles when crackers exploded under the wheels and +we were obliged to slacken our pace. We wondered what new +danger there was awaiting us, and we began to feel anxious. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_407'>407</span>The women were nervous, and some of them were in tears. We +went along slowly, peering into the darkness, trying to make out +the form of a man or of several men by the light of each cracker. +Abbey suggested going at full speed, because these crackers had +been placed along the line by the bandits, who had probably thought +of some way of stopping the train in case their giant did not +succeed in unhooking the carriage. The engine-driver refused +to go more quickly, declaring that these crackers were signals +placed there by the railway company, and that he could not risk +every one’s life on a mere supposition. The man was quite +right, and he was certainly very brave.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We can certainly settle a handful of ruffians,” he said, “but +I could not answer for any one’s life if the train went off the +lines, clashed into or collided with something, or went over a +precipice.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>We continued therefore to go slowly. The lights had been +turned off in the car, so that we might see as much as possible +without being seen ourselves. We had tried to keep the truth +from the artistes, except from three men whom I had sent for to +my carriage. The artistes really had nothing to fear from the +robbers, as I was the only person at whom they were aiming. +To avoid all unnecessary questions and evasive answers, we sent +the secretary to tell them that as there was some obstruction on +the line, the train had to go slowly. They were also told that +one of the gas-pipes had to be repaired before we could have the +light again. The communication was then cut between my car +and the rest of the train. We had been going along like this +for ten minutes perhaps when everything was suddenly lighted +up by a fire, and we saw a gang of railway-men hastening +towards us. It makes me shudder now when I think how +nearly these poor fellows escaped being killed. Our nerves had +been in such a state of tension for several hours that we imagined +at first that these men were the wretched friends of the giant. +Some one fired at them, and if it had not been for our plucky +engine-driver calling out to them to stop, with the addition of a +terrible oath, two or three of these poor men would have been +wounded. I too had seized my revolver, but before I could +have drawn out the ramrod which serves as a cog to prevent it +from going off, any one would have had time to seize me, bind +me, and kill me a hundred times over.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_408'>408</span>And still any time I go to a place where I think there is danger, +I invariably take my pistol with me, for it is a pistol, and not a +revolver. I always call it a revolver, but in reality it is a pistol, and +a very old-fashioned make too, with this ramrod and the trigger so +hard to pull that I have to use my other hand as well. I am not +a bad shot, for a woman, provided that I may take my time, but +this is not very easy when one wants to fire at a robber. And yet I +always have my pistol with me; it is here on my table, and I can +see it as I write. It is in its case, which is rather too narrow, so +that it requires a certain amount of strength and patience to +pull it out. If an assassin should arrive at this particular +moment I should first have to unfasten the case, which is not an +easy matter, then to get the pistol out, pull out the ramrod, +which is rather too firm, and press the trigger with both hands. +And yet, in spite of all this, the human animal is so strange +that this ridiculously useless little object here before me seems +to me an admirable protection. And nervous and timid as I +am, alas! I feel quite safe when I am near to this little friend of +mine, who must roar with laughter inside the little case out of +which I can scarcely drag it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Well, everything was now explained to us. The goods train +which had started before us ran off the line, but no great damage +was done, and no one was killed. The St. Louis band of robbers +had arranged everything, and had prepared to have this little +accident two miles from the Little Incline, in case their comrade +crouching under my car had not been able to unhook it. The +train had left the rails, but when the wretches rushed forward, +believing that it was mine, they found themselves surrounded +by the band of detectives. It seems that they fought like +demons. One of them was killed on the spot, two more +wounded, and the remainder taken prisoners. A few days +later the chief of this little band was hanged. He was a +Belgian, named Albert Wirbyn, twenty-five years of age.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I did all in my power to save him, for it seemed to me that +unintentionally I had been the instigator of his evil plan.</p> + +<p class='c013'>If Abbey and Jarrett had not been so rabid for advertisement, +if they had not added more than six hundred thousand +francs’ worth of jewellery to mine, this man, this wretched youth, +would not perhaps have had the stupid idea of robbing me. +Who can say what schemes had floated through the mind of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_409'>409</span>poor fellow, who was perhaps half-starved, or perhaps excited by +a clever, inventive brain? Perhaps when he stopped and looked +at the jeweller’s window he said to himself: “There is jewellery +there worth a million francs. If it were all mine I would sell it +and go back to Belgium. What joy I could give to my poor +mother, who is blinding herself with work by gaslight, and I could +help my sister to get married.” Or perhaps he was an inventor, +and he thought to himself: “Ah, if only I had the money +which that jewellery represents I could bring out my invention +myself, instead of selling my patent to some highly esteemed +rascal, who will buy it from me for a crust of bread. What +would it matter to the artiste. Ah, if only I had the money!” +Ah, if I had the money!—perhaps the poor fellow cried with +rage to think of all this wealth belonging to one person. +Perhaps the idea of crime germinated in this way in a mind +which had hitherto been pure. Ah, who can tell to what hope +may give birth in a young mind? At first it may be only +a beautiful dream, but this may end in a mad desire to realise +the dream. To steal the goods of another person is certainly +not right, but this should not be punished by death—it certainly +should not. To kill a man of twenty-five years of age is a much +greater crime than to steal jewellery even by force, and a society +which bands together in order to wield the sword of Justice is +much more cowardly when it kills than the man who robs and +kills quite alone, at his own risk and peril. Oh, what tears I +wept for that man, whom I did not know at all—who was +a rascal or perhaps a hero! He was perhaps a man of weak +intellect who had turned thief, but he was only twenty-five +years of age, and he had a right to live.</p> + +<p class='c013'>How I hate capital punishment! It is a relic of cowardly barbarism, +and it is a disgrace for civilised countries still to have +their guillotines and scaffolds. Every human being has a moment +when his heart is easily touched, when the tears of grief will flow; +and those tears may fecundate a generous thought which might +lead to repentance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I would not for the whole world be one of those who condemn +a man to death. And yet many of them are good, upright +men, who when they return to their families are affectionate +to their wives, and reprove their children for breaking a doll’s +head.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_410'>410</span>I have seen four executions, one in London, one in Spain, and +two in Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In London the method is hanging, and this seems to me more +hideous, more repugnant, more weird than any other death. The +victim was a young man of about thirty, with a strong, self-willed +looking face. I only saw him a second, and he shrugged his +shoulders as he glanced at me, his eyes expressing his contempt +for my curiosity. At that moment I felt that individual’s ideas +were very much superior to mine, and the condemned man +seemed to me greater than all who were there. It was, perhaps, +because he was nearer than we all were to the great mystery. I +can see him now smile as they covered his face with the hood, +while, as for me, I rushed away completely upset.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In Madrid I saw a man garrotted, and the barbarity of this +torture terrified me for weeks after. He was accused of having +killed his mother, but no real proof seemed to have been brought +forward against the wretched man. And he cried out, when they +were holding him down on his seat before putting the garrotte +on him, “Mother, I shall soon be with you, and you will tell them +all, in my presence, that they have lied.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>These words were uttered in Spanish, in a voice that vibrated +with earnestness. They were translated for me by an <i><span lang="fr">attaché</span></i> to +the British Embassy, with whom I had gone to see the hideous +sight. The wretched man cried out in such a sincere, heartrending +tone of voice that it was impossible for him not to have +been innocent, and this was the opinion of all those who were +with me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The two other executions which I witnessed were at the Place +de la Roquette, Paris. The first was that of a young medical +student, who with the help of one of his friends had killed an +old woman who sold newspapers. It was a stupid, odious crime, +but the man was more mad than criminal. He was more than +ordinarily intelligent, and had passed his examinations at an +earlier age than is usual. He had worked too hard, and it had +affected his brain. He ought to have been allowed to rest, to +have been treated as an invalid, cured in mind and body, and +then returned to his scientific pursuits. He was a young man +quite above the average as regards intellect. I can see him now, +pale and haggard, with a dreamy, far-away look in his eyes, an +expression of infinite sadness. I know, of course, that he had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_411'>411</span>killed a poor, defenceless old woman. That was certainly odious, +but he was only twenty-three years old, and his mind was disordered +through study and overwork, too much ambition, and +the habit of cutting off arms and legs and dissecting the dead +bodies of women and children. All this does not excuse the +man’s abominable deed, but it had all contributed to unhinge +his moral sense, which was perhaps already in a wavering state, +thanks to study, poverty, or atavism. I consider that a crime of +high treason against humanity was committed in taking the life +of a man of intellect, who, when once he had recovered his +reason, might have rendered great service to science and to +humanity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The last execution at which I was present was that of Vaillant, +the anarchist. He was an energetic man, and at the same +time mild and gentle, with very advanced ideas, but not +much more advanced than those of men who have since risen +to power.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My theatre at that time was the Renaissance, and he often +applied to me for free seats, as he was too poor to pay for the +luxuries of art. Ah, poverty, what a sorry counsellor art thou, +and how tolerant we ought to be to those who have to endure +misery!</p> + +<p class='c013'>One day Vaillant came to see me in my dressing-room at +the theatre. I was playing Lorenzaccio, and he said to me: +“Ah, that Florentine was an anarchist just as I am, but he +killed the tyrant and not tyranny. That is not the way I shall +go to work.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>A few days later he threw a bomb in a public building, the +Chamber of Deputies. The poor fellow was not as successful +as the Florentine, whom he seemed to despise, for he did not +kill any one, and did no real harm except to his own cause.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I said I should like to know when he was to be executed, and +the night before, a friend of mine came to the theatre and told +me that the execution was to take place the following day, +Monday, at seven in the morning.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I started after the performance, and went to the Rue Merlin, +at the corner of the Rue de la Roquette. The streets were +still very animated, as that Sunday was Dimanche Gras (Shrove +Sunday). People were singing, laughing, and dancing everywhere. +I waited all night, and as I was not allowed to enter +<span class='pageno' id='Page_412'>412</span>the prison, I sat on the balcony of a first floor flat which I had +engaged. The cold darkness of the night in its immensity +seemed to enwrap me in sadness. I did not feel the cold, for my +blood was flowing rapidly through my veins. The hours passed +slowly, the hours which rang out in the distance, <i><span lang="fr">L’heure est +morte. Vive l’heure!</span></i> I heard a vague, muffled sound of footsteps, +whispering, and of wood which creaked heavily, but I did +not know what these strange, mysterious sounds were until day +began to break. I saw that the scaffold was there. A man +came to extinguish the lamps on the Place de la Roquette, and +an anæmic-looking sky spread its pale light over us. The +crowd began to collect gradually, but remained in compact +groups, and circulation in the streets was interrupted. Every +now and then a man, looking quite indifferent, but evidently +in a hurry, pushed aside the crowd, presented a card to a policeman, +and then disappeared under the porch of the prison. I +counted more than ten of these men: they were journalists. +Presently the military guard appeared suddenly on the spot, and +took up its position around the melancholy-looking pedestal. +The usual number of the guard had been doubled for this occasion, +as some anarchist plot was feared. On a given signal +swords were drawn and the prison door opened.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Vaillant appeared, looking very pale, but energetic and brave. +He cried out in a manly voice, with perfect assurance, “<i><span lang="fr">Vive +l’anarchie!</span></i>” There was not a single cry in response to his. +He was seized and thrown back over the slab. The knife fell +with a muffled sound. The body tottered, and in a second the +scaffold was taken away, the place swept; the crowds were +allowed to move. They rushed forward to the place of +execution, gazing down on the ground for a spot of blood which +was not to be seen, sniffing in the air for any odour of the +drama which had just been enacted.</p> + +<p class='c013'>There were women, children, old men, all joking there on the +very spot where a man had just expired in the most supreme +agony. And that man had made himself the apostle of this +populace; that man had claimed for this teeming crowd all kinds +of liberties, all kinds of privileges and rights.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was thickly veiled so that I could not be recognised, and +accompanied by a friend as escort.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I mingled with the crowd, and it made me sick at heart and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_413'>413</span>desperate. There was not a word of gratitude to this man, not +a murmur of vengeance nor of revolt.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I felt inclined to cry out: “Brutes that you are! Kneel down +and kiss the stones that the blood of this poor madman has +stained for your sakes, for you, because he believed in you.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>But before I had time for this a street urchin was calling out, +“Buy the last moments of Vaillant! Buy, buy!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, poor Vaillant! His headless body was then being taken +to Clamart, and the crowds for whom he had wept, worked, and +died were now going quietly away, indifferent and bored. +Poor Vaillant! His ideas were exaggerated ones, but they were +generous.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_414'>414</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXVII<br> <span class='large'>NEW ORLEANS AND OTHER AMERICAN CITIES—A VISIT TO THE FALLS OF NIAGARA</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>We arrived at Cincinnati safe and sound. We gave three performances +there, and set off once more for New Orleans.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Now, I thought, we shall have some sunshine and we shall be +able to warm our poor limbs, which were stiffened with three +months of mortal cold. We shall be able to open our windows +and breathe fresh air instead of the suffocating and anæmia-giving +steam heat. I fell asleep, and dreams of warmth and +sweet scents lulled me in my slumber. A knock roused me +suddenly, and my dog with ears erect sniffed at the door, but +as he did not growl, I knew it was some one of our party. I +opened the door, and Jarrett, followed by Abbey, made signs to +me not to speak. Jarrett came in on tip-toe, and closed the +door again.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, what is it now?” I asked.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why,” replied Jarrett, “the incessant rain during the last +twelve days has swollen the water to such a height that the +bridge of boats across the bay here is liable to give way under +the terrible pressure of the water. Do you hear the awful +storm of wind that is now blowing? If we go back by the +other route it will require three or four days.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was furious. Three or four days, and to go back to the +snow again! Ah no! I felt I must have sunshine.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Why can we not pass? Oh, Heavens! what shall we do?” +I exclaimed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well, the engine-driver is here. He thinks that he might +get across; but he has only just married, and he will try the +crossing on condition that you give him two thousand five +hundred dollars, which he will at once send to Mobile, where his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_415'>415</span>father and wife live. If we get safely to the other side he will +give you back this money, but if not it will belong to his +family.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I must confess that I was stupefied with admiration for this +plucky man. His daring excited me, and I exclaimed:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, certainly. Give him the money, and let us cross.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>As I have said, I generally travelled by special train. This +one was made up of only three carriages and the engine. I +never doubted for a moment as to the success of this foolish and +criminal attempt, and I did not tell any one about it except my +sister, my beloved Guérard, and my faithful Félicie and her +husband Claude. The comedian Angelo, who was sleeping in +Jarrett’s berth on this journey, knew of it, but he was courageous, +and had faith in his star. The money was handed over to the +engine-driver, who sent it off to Mobile. It was only just as we +were actually starting that I had the vision of the responsibility +I had taken upon myself, for it was risking without their consent +the lives of thirty-two persons. It was too late then to do +anything: the train had started, and at a terrific speed it +touched the bridge of boats. I had taken my seat on the platform, +and the bridge bent and swayed like a hammock under +the dizzy speed of our wild course. When we were half way +across it gave way so much that my sister grasped my arm and +whispered, “Ah, we are drowning!” She closed her eyes and +clutched me nervously, but was quite brave. I certainly imagined +as she did that the supreme moment had arrived; and abominable +as it was, I never for a second thought of all those who were full +of confidence and life, whom I was sacrificing, whom I was killing. +My only thought was of a dear little face which would soon be +in mourning for me. And to think that we take about within us +our most terrible enemy, thought, and that it is continually at +variance with our deeds. It rises up at times, terrible, perfidious, +and we try to drive it away without success. We do +not, thanks to God, invariably obey it; but it pursues us, +torments us, makes us suffer. How often the most evil thoughts +assail us, and what battles we have to fight in order to drive +away these children of our brain! Anger, ambition, revenge +give birth to the most detestable thoughts, which make us +blush with shame as we should at some horrible blemish. And +yet they are not ours, for we have not evoked them; but they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_416'>416</span>defile us nevertheless, and leave us in despair at not being +masters of our own heart, mind, and body.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My last minute was not inscribed, though, for that day in the +book of destiny. The train pulled itself together, and, half +leaping and half rolling along, we arrived on the other side of +the water. Behind us we heard a terrible noise, a column of +water falling back like a huge sheaf. The bridge had given +way! For more than a week the trains from the east and the +north could not run over this route.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I left the money to our brave engine-driver, but my conscience +was by no means tranquil, and for a long time my sleep was +disturbed by the most frightful nightmares; and when any of +the artistes spoke to me of their child, their mother, or their +husband, whom they longed to see once more, I felt myself turn +pale; a thrill of deep emotion went through me, and I had the +deepest pity for my own self.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When getting out of the train I was more dead than alive +from retrospective emotion. I had to submit to receiving a +most friendly though fatiguing deputation of my compatriots. +Then, loaded with flowers, I climbed into the carriage that was +to take me to the hotel. The roads were rivers, and we were on +an elevated spot. The lower part of the city, the coachman +explained to us in French, with a strong Marseilles accent, was +inundated up to the tops of the houses. Hundreds of negroes +had been drowned. “Ah, <i><span lang="fr">bagasse</span></i>!” he cried, as he whipped +up his horses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At that period the hotels in New Orleans were squalid—dirty, +uncomfortable, black with cockroaches, and as soon as the candles +were lighted the bedrooms became filled with large mosquitoes +that buzzed round and fell on one’s shoulder, sticking in one’s +hair. Oh, I shudder still when I think of it!</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the same time as our company, there was at New Orleans +an opera company, the “star” of which was a charming woman, +Emilie Ambre, who at one time came very near being Queen of +Holland. The country was poor, like all the other American +districts where the French were to be found preponderating.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The opera did very poor business, and we did not do excellently +either. Six performances would have been ample in that +city: we gave eight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Nevertheless, my sojourn pleased me immensely.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_417'>417</span>An infinite charm was evolved from it. All these people, so +different, black and white, had smiling faces. All the women +were graceful. The shops were attractive from the cheerfulness +of their windows. The open-air traders under the arcades challenged +one another with joyful flashes of wit. The sun, however, +did not show itself once. But these people had the sun within themselves.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I could not understand why boats were not used. The horses +had water up to their hams, and it would have been impossible +even to get into a carriage if the pavements had not been a +metre high and occasionally more.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Floods being as frequent as the years, it would be of no use +to think of banking up the river or arm of the sea. But circulation +was made easy by the high pavements and small movable +bridges. The dark children amused themselves catching cray-fish +in the streams. (Where did they come from?) And they +sold them to passers-by.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Now and again we would see a whole family of water serpents +speed by. They swept along, with raised head and undulating +body, like long starry sapphires.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I went down towards the lower part of the town. The sight +was heartrending. All the cabins of the coloured inhabitants +had fallen into the muddy waters. They were there in hundreds, +squatting upon these moving wrecks, with eyes burning from +fever. Their white teeth chattered with hunger. Right and +left, everywhere, were dead bodies with swollen stomachs floating +about, knocking up against the wooden piles. Many ladies were +distributing food, endeavouring to lead away these unfortunate +creatures. No. They would stay where they were. With a +blissful smile they would reply, “The water go away. House +be found. Me begin again.” And the women would slowly +nod their heads in token of assent. Several alligators had shown +themselves, brought up by the tide. Two children had disappeared.</p> + +<p class='c013'>One child of fourteen years of age had just been carried off to +the hospital with his foot cut clean off at the ankle by one of +these marine monsters. His family were howling with fury. +They wished to keep the youngster with them. The negro quack +doctor pretended that he could have cured him in two days, and +that the white “quacks” would leave him for a month in bed.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_418'>418</span>I left this city with regret, for it resembled no other city I +had visited up to then. We were really surprised to find that +none of our party were missing—they had gone through, so they +said, various dangers. The hairdresser alone, a man called Ibé, +could not recover his equilibrium, having become half mad from +fear the second day of our arrival. At the theatre he generally +slept in the trunk in which he stored his wigs. However strange +it may seem, the fact is quite true. The first night everything +passed off as usual, but during the second night he woke up the +whole neighbourhood by his shrieks. The unfortunate fellow +had got off soundly to sleep, when he woke up with a feeling that +his mattress, which lay suspended over his collection of wigs, +was being raised by some inconceivable movements. He thought +that some cat or dog had got into the trunk, and he lifted up +the feeble rampart. Two serpents were either quarrelling or +making love to each other—he could not say which; two serpents +of a size sufficient to terrify the people whom the shouts of the +poor Figaro had caused to gather round.</p> + +<p class='c013'>He was still very pale when I saw him embark on board the +boat that was to take us to our train. I called him, and begged +he would relate to me the Odyssey of his terrible night. As he +told me the story he pointed to his big leg: “They were as +thick as that, Madame. Yes, like that——” And he quaked +with fear as he recalled the dreadful girth of the reptiles. I +thought that they were about one quarter as thick as his leg, +and that would have been enough to justify his fright, for the +serpents in question were not inoffensive water-snakes that bite +out of pure viciousness, but have no venom fangs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We reached Mobile somewhat late in the day.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had stopped at that city on our way to New Orleans, and +I had had a real attack of nerves caused by the “cheek” of the +inhabitants, who, in spite of the lateness of the hour, had got +up a deputation to wait upon me. I was dead with fatigue, and +was dropping off to sleep in my bed in the car. I therefore +energetically declined to see anybody. But these people +knocked at my windows, sang round about my carriage, and +finally exasperated me. I quickly threw up one of the windows +and emptied a jug of water on their heads. Women and men, +amongst whom were several journalists, were inundated. Their +fury was great.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_419'>419</span>I was returning to that city, preceded by the above story, +embellished in their favour by the drenched reporters. But on +the other hand, there were others who had been more courteous, +and had refused to go and disturb a lady at such an unearthly +hour of the night. These latter were in the majority, and took +up my defence.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was therefore in this warlike atmosphere that I appeared +before the public of Mobile. I wanted, however, to justify the +good opinion of my defenders and confound my detractors.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Yes, but a sprite who had decided otherwise was there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Mobile was a city that was generally quite disdained by <i><span lang="fr">impresarii</span></i>. +There was only one theatre. It had been let to the +tragedian Barrett, who was to appear six days after me. All that +remained was a miserable place, so small that I know of +nothing that can be compared to it. We were playing <cite><span lang="fr">La +Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>. When Marguerite Gautier orders supper +to be served, the servants who were to bring in the table ready +laid tried to get it in through the door. But this was impossible. +Nothing could be more comical than to see those +unfortunate servants adopt every expedient.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The public laughed. Among the laughter of the spectators +was one that became contagious. A negro of twelve or fifteen, +who had got in somehow, was standing on a chair, and with his +two hands holding on to his knees, his body bent, head forward, +mouth open, he was laughing with such a shrill and piercing +tone, and with such even continuity, that I caught it too. I +had to go out while a portion of the back scenery was being +removed to allow the table to be brought in.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I returned somewhat composed, but still under the domination +of suppressed laughter. We were sitting round the table, +and the supper was drawing to a close as usual. But just as the +servants were entering to remove the table, one of them caught +the scenery, which had been badly adjusted by the scene-shifters +in their haste, and the whole back scene fell on our heads. As +the scenery was nearly all made of paper in those days, it did +not fall on our heads and remain there, but round our necks, +and we had to remain in that position without being able to +move. Our heads having gone through the paper, our appearance +was most comical and ridiculous. The young nigger’s laughter +started again more piercing than ever, and this time my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_420'>420</span>suppressed laughter ended in a crisis that left me without any +strength.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The money paid for admission was returned to the public. +It exceeded fifteen thousand francs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>This city was an unlucky one for me, and came very near +proving fatal during the third visit I paid to it, as I will narrate +in the second volume of these Memoirs.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That very night we left Mobile for Atlanta, where, after +playing <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>, we left again the same evening +for Nashville.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We stayed an entire day at Memphis, and gave two performances +there.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At one in the morning we left for Louisville. During the +journey from Memphis to Louisville we were awakened by the +sound of a fight, by oaths and cries. I opened the door of my +railway carriage, and recognised the voices. Jarrett came out at +the same time. We went towards the spot whence the noise +came—to the small platform, where the two combatants, +Captain Hayné and Marcus Mayer, were fighting with revolvers +in their hands. Marcus Mayer’s eye was out of its orbit, and +blood covered the face of Captain Hayné. I threw myself +without a moment’s reflection between the two madmen, who, +with that brutal but delightful courtesy of North Americans, +stopped their fight.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were beginning the dizzy round of the smaller towns, +arriving at three, four, and sometimes six o’clock in the evening, +and leaving immediately after the play. I only left my car to go to +the theatre, and returned as soon as the play was over to retire +to my elegant but diminutive bedroom. I sleep well on the railway. +I felt an immense pleasure travelling in that way at high +speed, sitting outside on the small platform, or rather reclining +in a rocking-chair, gazing on the ever-changing spectacle of +American plains and forests that passed before me. Without +stopping we went through Louisville, Cincinnati for the second +time, Columbus, Dayton, Indianapolis, St. Joseph, where one gets +the best beer in the world, and where, when I was obliged to go +to an hotel on account of repairs to one of the wheels of the car, +a drunken dancer at a big ball given in the hotel seized me +in the corridor leading to my room. This brutal fellow caught +hold of me just as I was getting out of the elevator, and dragged +<span class='pageno' id='Page_421'>421</span>me off with cries like those of a wild animal finding its prey +after five days of enforced hunger. My dog, mad with excitement +on hearing me scream, bit his legs severely, and that +aroused the drunken man to the point of fury. It was with the +greatest difficulty that I was delivered from the clutches of this +demoniac. Supper was served. What a supper! Fortunately +the beer was light both in colour and consistency, and enabled +me to swallow the dreadful things that were served up.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The ball lasted all night, accompanied by revolver shots.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We left for Leavenworth, Quincy, Springfield, but not the +Springfield in Massachusetts—the one in Illinois.</p> + +<p class='c013'>During the journey from Springfield to Chicago we were +stopped by the snow in the middle of the night.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The sharp and deep groanings of the locomotive had already +awakened me. I summoned my faithful Claude, and learned that +we were to stop and wait for help.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Aided by my Félicie, I dressed in haste and tried to descend, +but it was impossible. The snow was as high as the platform +of the car. I remained wrapped up in furs, contemplating the +magnificent night. The sky was hard, implacable, without +a star, but all the same translucid. Lights extended as far as +the eye could see along the rails before me, for I had taken +refuge on the rear platform. These lights were to warn the +trains that followed. Four of these came up, and stopped when +the first fog-signals went off beneath their wheels, then crept +slowly forward to the first light, where a man who was stationed +there explained the incident. The same lights were lit immediately +for the following train, as far off as possible, and a man, +proceeding beyond the lights, placed detonators on the metals. +Each train that arrived followed that course.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were blocked by the snow. The idea came to me of +lighting the kitchen fire, and I thus got sufficient boiling water +to melt the top coating of snow on the side where I wanted to +alight. Having done this, Claude and our coloured servants got +down and cleared away a small portion as well as they could.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was at last able to descend myself, and I tried to remove the +snow to one side. My sister and I finished by throwing snowballs +at each other, and the <i><span lang="fr">melée</span></i> became general. Abbey, +Jarrett, the secretary, and several of the artistes joined in, and +we were warmed by this small battle with white cannon-balls.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_422'>422</span>When dawn appeared we were to be seen firing a revolver and +Colt rifle at a target made from a champagne case. A distant +sound, deadened by the cotton-wool of the snow, at length made +us realise that help was approaching. As a matter of fact, two +engines, with men who had shovels, hooks, and spades, were +coming at full speed from the opposite direction. They were +obliged to slow down on getting to within one kilometre of +where we were, and the men began clearing the way before them. +They finally succeeded in reaching us, but we were obliged to go +back and take the western route. The unfortunate artistes, who +had counted on getting breakfast in Chicago, which we ought +to have reached at eleven o’clock, were lamenting, for with the +new itinerary that we were forced to follow we could not reach +Milwaukee before half-past one. There we were to give a +<i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i> at two o’clock—<cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>. I therefore +had the best lunch I could get prepared, and my servants carried +it to my company, the members of which showed themselves very +grateful.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The performance only began at three, and finished at half-past +six o’clock; we started again at eight with <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Immediately after the play we left for Grand Rapids, Detroit, +Cleveland, and Pittsburg, in which latter city I was to meet +an American friend of mine who was to help me to realise one +of my dreams—at least, I fancied so. In partnership with his +brother, my friend was the owner of large steel works and +several petroleum wells. I had known him in Paris, and had +met him again at New York, where he offered to conduct me to +Buffalo, so that I could visit or rather he could initiate me into +the Falls of Niagara, for which he entertained a lover’s passion. +Frequently he would start off quite unexpectedly like a madman +and take a rest at a place just near the Niagara Falls. The +deafening sound of the cataracts seemed like music after the +hard, hammering, strident noise of the forges at work on the +iron, and the limpidity of the silvery cascades rested his eyes +and refreshed his lungs, saturated as they were with petroleum +and smoke.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My friend’s buggy, drawn by two magnificent horses, took us +along in a bewildering whirlwind of mud splashing over us and +snow blinding us. It had been raining for a week, and Pittsburg +in 1881 was not what it is at present, although it was a city +<span class='pageno' id='Page_423'>423</span>which impressed one on account of its commercial genius. The +black mud ran along the streets, and everywhere in the sky rose +huge patches of thick, black, opaque smoke; but there was a +certain grandeur about it all, for work was king there. Trains +ran through the streets laden with barrels of petroleum or +piled as high as possible with charcoal and coal. That fine +river, the Ohio, carried along with it steamers, barges, loads of +timber fastened together and forming enormous rafts, which +floated down the river alone, to be stopped on the way by the +owner for whom they were destined. The timber is marked, and +no one else thinks of taking it. I am told that the wood is not +conveyed in this way now, which is a pity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The carriage took us along through streets and squares in the +midst of railways, under the enervating vibration of the electric +wires, which ran like furrows across the sky. We crossed a +bridge which shook under the light weight of the buggy. It was +a suspension bridge. Finally we drew up at my friend’s home. +He introduced his brother to me, a charming man, but very cold +and correct, and so quiet that I was astonished.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“My poor brother is deaf,” said my companion, after I had +been exerting myself for five minutes to talk to him in my +gentlest voice. I looked at this poor millionaire, who was +living in the most extraordinary noise, and who could not hear +even the faintest echo of the outrageous uproar. He could not +hear anything at all, and I wondered whether he was to be +envied or pitied. I was then taken to visit his incandescent +ovens and his vats in a state of ebullition. I went into a room +where some steel discs were cooling, which looked like so many +setting suns.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The heat from them seemed to scorch my lungs, and I felt as +though my hair would take fire.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We then went down a long, narrow road through which small +trains were running to and fro. Some of those trains were laden +with incandescent metals which made the atmosphere iridescent +as they passed. We walked in single file along the narrow passage +reserved for foot passengers between the rails. I did not feel at +all safe, and my heart began to beat fast. Blown first one way +then the other by the wind from the two trains coming in +opposite directions and passing each other, I drew my skirts +closely round me so that they should not be caught. Perched +<span class='pageno' id='Page_424'>424</span>on my high heels, at every step I took I was afraid of slipping +on this narrow, greasy, coal-strewn pavement.</p> + +<p class='c013'>To sum up briefly, it was a very unpleasant moment, and very +delighted I was to come to the end of that interminable street, +which led to an enormous field stretching away as far as the eye +could see. There were rails lying all about here, which men +were polishing and filing, &c. I had had quite enough, though, +and I asked to be allowed to go back and rest. So we all three +returned to the house.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On arriving there, valets arrayed in livery opened the doors, +took our furs, walking on tip-toe as they moved about. There +was silence everywhere, and I wondered why, as it seemed to me +incomprehensible. My friend’s brother scarcely spoke at all, +and when he did his voice was so low that I had great difficulty +in understanding him. When we asked him any question by +gesticulating we had to listen most attentively to catch his reply, +and I noticed that an almost imperceptible smile lighted up +for an instant his stony face. I understood very soon that this +man hated humanity, and that he avenged himself in his own +way for his infirmity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Lunch had been prepared for us in the winter conservatory, a +nook of magnificent verdure and flowers. We had just taken +our seats at the table when the songs of a thousand birds burst +forth like a veritable fanfare. Underneath some large leaves, +whole families of canaries were imprisoned by invisible nets. +They were everywhere, up in the air, down below, under my +chair, on the table behind me, all over the place. I tried to +quiet this shrill uproar by shaking my napkin and speaking in +a loud voice, but the little feathered tribe began to sing in a +maddening way. The deaf man was leaning back in a rocking-chair, +and I noticed that his face had lighted up. He laughed +aloud in an evil, spiteful manner. Just as my own temper was +getting the better of me a feeling of pity and indulgence came +into my heart for this man, whose vengeance seemed to me as +pathetic as it was puerile. Promptly deciding to make the best +of my host’s spitefulness, and assisted by his brother, I took my +tea into the hall at the other end of the conservatory. I was +nearly dead with fatigue, and when my friend proposed that I +should go with him to see his petroleum wells, a few miles out +of the city, I gazed at him with such a scared, hopeless expression +<span class='pageno' id='Page_425'>425</span>that he begged me in the most friendly and polite way to +forgive him.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was five o’clock and quite dusk, and I wanted to go back +to my hotel. My host asked if I would allow him to take me +back by the hills. The road was rather longer, but I should be +able to have a bird’s eye view of Pittsburg, and he assured me +that it was quite worth while. We started off in the buggy +with two fresh horses, and a few minutes later I had the wildest +dream. It seemed to me that he was Pluto, the god of the +infernal regions, and I was Proserpine. We were travelling +through our empire at a quick trot, drawn by our winged +horses. All round us we could see fire and flames. The blood-red +sky was blurred with long black trails that looked like +widows’ veils. The ground was covered with long arms of iron +stretched heavenwards in a supreme imprecation. These arms +threw forth smoke, flames, or sparks, which fell again in a shower +of stars. The buggy carried us on up the hills, and the cold froze +our limbs while the fires excited our brains. It was then that my +friend told me of his love for the Niagara Falls. He spoke of +them more like a lover than an admirer, and told me he liked to +go to them alone. He said, though, that for me he would make +an exception. He spoke of the rapids with such intense passion +that I felt rather uneasy, and began to wonder whether the man +was not mad. I grew alarmed, for he was driving along over the +very verge of the precipice, jumping the stone heaps. I glanced +at him sideways: his face was calm, but his under-lip twitched +slightly; and I had noticed this particularly with his deaf +brother, also.</p> + +<p class='c013'>By this time I was quite nervous. The cold and the fires, this +demoniacal drive, the sound of the anvil ringing out mournful +chimes which seemed to come from under the earth, and then the +deep forge whistle sounding like a desperate cry rending the +silence of the night; the chimney-stacks too, with their worn-out +lungs spitting forth their smoke with a perpetual death-rattle, +and the wind which had just risen twisting the streaks of +smoke into spirals which it sent up towards the sky or beat down +all at once on to us, all this wild dance of the natural and +the human elements, affected my whole nervous system so +that it was quite time for me to get back to the hotel. I sprang +out of the carriage quickly on arriving, and arranged to see my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_426'>426</span>friend at Buffalo, but, alas! I was never to see him again. He +took cold that very day, and could not meet me there; and the +following year I heard that he had been dashed against the +rocks when trying to navigate a boat in the rapids. He died of +his passion,—for his passion.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At the hotel all the artistes were awaiting me, as I had +forgotten we were to have a rehearsal of <cite><span lang="fr">La Princesse Georges</span></cite> +at half-past four. I noticed a face that was unknown to me +among the members of our company, and on making inquiries +about this person found that he was an illustrator who had +come with an introduction from Jarrett. He asked to be allowed +to make a few sketches of me, and after giving orders that he +should be taken to a seat, I did not trouble any more about +him. We had to hurry through the rehearsal in order to be at +the theatre in time for the performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>, which we +were giving that night. The rehearsal was accordingly rushed +and gabbled through, so that it was soon over, and the stranger +took his departure, refusing to let me look at his sketches on +the plea that he wanted to touch them up before showing them. +My joy was great the following day when Jarrett arrived at my +hotel perfectly furious, holding in his hand the principal +newspaper of Pittsburg, in which our illustrator, who turned +out to be a journalist, had written an article giving at full length +an account of the dress rehearsal of <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>! “In the play of +<cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>,” wrote this delightful imbecile, “there is only one +scene of any importance, and that is the one between the two sisters. +Madame Sarah Bernhardt did not impress me greatly, and as +to the artistes of the Comédie Française, I considered they were +mediocre. The costumes were not very fine, and in the ball +scene the men did not wear dress suits.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Jarrett was wild with rage and I was wild with joy. He +knew my horror of reporters, and he had introduced this one in +an underhand way, hoping to get a good advertisement out of +it. The journalist imagined that we were having a dress +rehearsal of <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>, and we were merely rehearsing Alexandre +Dumas’s <cite><span lang="fr">Princesse Georges</span></cite> for the sake of refreshing our memory. +He had mistaken the scene between Princesse Georges and the +Comtesse de Terremonde for the scene in the third act between +the two sisters in <cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>. We were all of us wearing our +travelling costumes, and he was surprised at not seeing the men +<span class='pageno' id='Page_427'>427</span>in dress coats and the women in evening dress. What fun this +was for our company and for all the town, and I may add what +a subject it furnished for the jokes of all the rival newspapers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had to play two days at Pittsburg, and then go on to Bradford, +Erie, Toronto, and arrive at Buffalo on Sunday. It was +my intention to give all the members of my company a day’s +outing at Niagara Falls, but Abbey too wanted to invite +them. We had a discussion on the subject, and it was extremely +animated. He was very dictatorial, and so was I, and we both +preferred giving the whole thing up rather than yield to each +other. Jarrett, however, pointed out the fact to us that this +course would deprive the artistes of a little festivity about +which they heard a great deal and to which they were looking +forward. We therefore gave in finally, and in order to settle +the matter we agreed to share the outlay between us. The artistes +accepted our invitation with the most charming good grace, and +we took the train for Buffalo, where we arrived at ten minutes +past six in the morning. We had telegraphed beforehand for +carriages and coffee to be in readiness, and to have food provided +for us, as it is simply madness for thirty-two persons to arrive +on a Sunday in such towns as these without giving notice of such +an event. We had a special train going at full speed over the lines, +which were entirely clear on Sundays, and it was decorated with +festoons of flowers. The younger artistes were as delighted as +children; those who had already seen everything before told +about it; then there was the eloquence of those who had heard +of it, &c. &c.; and all this, together with the little bouquets +of flowers distributed among the women and the cigars and +cigarettes presented to the men, made every one good-humoured, +so that all appeared to be happy. The carriages met our train +and took us to the Hotel d’Angleterre, which had been kept open +for us. There were flowers everywhere, and any number of small +tables upon which were coffee, chocolate, or tea. Every table was +soon surrounded with guests. I had my sister, Abbey, Jarrett, +and the principal artistes at my table. The meal was of short +duration and very gay and animated. We then went to the Falls, +and I remained more than an hour on the balcony hollowed out +of the rock. My eyes filled with tears as I stood there, for I was +deeply moved by the splendour of the sight. A radiant sun made +the air around us iridescent. There were rainbows everywhere, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_428'>428</span>lighting up the atmosphere with their soft silvery colours. The +pendants of hard ice hanging down along the rocks on each side +looked like enormous jewels. I was sorry to leave this balcony. +We went down in narrow cages which glided gently into a +tube arranged in the cleft of the enormous rock. We arrived +in this way under the American Falls. They were there almost +over our heads, sprinkling us with their blue, pink, and mauve +drops. In front of us, protecting us from the Falls, was a heap +of icicles forming quite a little mountain. We climbed over +this to the best of our ability. My heavy fur mantle tired me, +and about half way down I took it off and let it slip over the +side of the ice mountain, to take it again when I reached the +bottom. I was wearing a dress of white cloth with a satin blouse, +and every one screamed with surprise on seeing me. Abbey +took off his overcoat and threw it over my shoulders. I shook +this off quickly, and Abbey’s coat went to join my fur cloak +below. The poor <i><span lang="fr">impresario’s</span></i> face looked very blank. As he +had taken a fair number of cocktails, he staggered, fell down on +the ice, got up, and immediately fell again, to the amusement of +every one. I was not at all cold, as I never am when out of +doors. I only feel the cold inside houses when I am inactive.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Finally we arrived at the highest point of the ice, and the +cataract was really most threatening. We were covered by the +impalpable mist; which rises in the midst of the tumultuous +noise. I gazed at it all, bewildered and fascinated by the rapid +movement of the water, which looked like a wide curtain of +silver, unfolding itself to be dashed violently into a rebounding, +splashing heap with a noise unlike any sound I had ever heard. +I very easily turn dizzy, and I know very well that if I had been +alone I should have remained there for ever with my eyes fixed +on the sheet of water hurrying along at full speed, my mind +lulled by the fascinating sound, and my limbs numbed by the +treacherous cold which encircled us. I had to be dragged +away, but I am soon myself again when confronted by an +obstacle.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had to go down again, and this was not as easy as it had +been to climb up. I took the walking-stick belonging to one of +my friends, and then sat down on the ice. By putting the stick +under my legs I was able to slide down to the bottom. All the +others imitated me, and it was a comical sight to see thirty-two +<span class='pageno' id='Page_429'>429</span>people descending the ice-hill in this way. There were several +somersaults and collisions, and plenty of laughter. A quarter of +an hour later we were all at the hotel, where luncheon had been +ordered.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We were all cold and hungry; it was warm inside the hotel, +and the meal smelt good. When luncheon was over the landlord +of the hotel asked me to go into a small drawing-room, +where a surprise awaited me. On entering I saw on a table, +protected under a long glass box, the Niagara Falls in miniature, +with the rocks looking like pebbles. A large glass represented +the sheet of water, and glass threads represented the Falls. +Here and there was some foliage of a hard, crude green. Standing +up on a little hillock of ice was a figure intended for me. It +was enough to make any one howl with horror, for it was all so +hideous. I managed to raise a broad smile for the benefit of +the hotel keeper by way of congratulating him on his good +taste, but I was petrified on recognising the man-servant of +my friends the Th—— brothers of Pittsburg. They had sent +this monstrous caricature of the most beautiful thing in the +world.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I read the letter which their domestic handed me, and all my +disdain melted away. They had gone to so much trouble in +order to explain what they wanted me to understand, and they +were so delighted at the idea of giving me any pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I dismissed the valet, after giving him a letter for his masters, +and I asked the hotel keeper to send the work of art to Paris, +packed carefully. I hoped that it might arrive in fragments.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The thought of it haunted me, though, and I wondered how +my friend’s passion for the Falls could be reconciled with the +idea of such a gift. Whilst admitting that his imaginative +mind might have hoped to be able to carry out his idea, how +was it that he was not indignant at the sight of this grotesque +imitation? How had he dared to send it to me? How was it +that my friend loved the Falls, and what had he understood of +their marvellous grandeur? Since his death I have questioned +my own memory of him a hundred times, but all in vain. He +died for them, tossed about in their waters, killed by their +caresses; and I cannot think that he could ever have seen how +beautiful they really were. Fortunately I was called away, as +the carriage was there and every one waiting for me. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_430'>430</span>horses started off with us, trotting in that weary way peculiar +to tourists’ horses.</p> + +<p class='c013'>When we arrived on the Canadian shore we had to go underground +and array ourselves in black or yellow mackintoshes. +We looked like so many heavy, dumpy sailors who were wearing +these garments for the first time. There were two large cells to +shelter us, one for the women and the other for the men. Every +one undressed more or less in the midst of wild confusion, and +making a little package of our clothes, we gave this into the +keeping of the woman in charge. With the mackintosh hood +drawn tightly under the chin, hiding the hair entirely, an +enormous blouse much too wide covering the whole body, fur +boots with roughed soles to avoid broken legs and heads, and +immense mackintosh breeches in zouave style, the prettiest and +slenderest woman was at once transformed into a huge, cumbersome, +awkward bear. An iron-tipped cudgel to carry in the +hand completed this becoming costume. I looked more ridiculous +than the others, for I would not cover my hair, and in the most +pretentious way I had fastened some roses into my mackintosh +blouse. The women went into raptures on seeing me. “How +pretty she looks like that!” they exclaimed. “She always finds +a way to be <i><span lang="fr">chic, quand-même!</span></i>” The men kissed my bear’s +paw in the most gallant way, bowing low and saying in low +tones: “Always and <i><span lang="fr">quand-même</span></i> the queen, the fairy, the +goddess, the divinity,” &c. &c. And I went along, purring +with content and quite satisfied with myself, until, as I passed +by the counter where the girl who gives the tickets was sitting, +I caught sight of myself in the glass. I looked enormous +and ridiculous with my roses pinned in, and the curly locks of +hair forming a kind of peak to my clumsy hood. I appeared to +be stouter than all the others, because of the silver belt I was +wearing round my waist, as this drew up the hard folds of the +mackintosh round my hips. My thin face was nearly covered +by my hair, which was flattened down by my hood. My eyes +could not be seen, and only my mouth served to show that +this barrel was a human being. Furious with myself for my +pretentious coquetry, and ashamed of my own weakness in +having been so content with the pitiful, insincere flattery of +people who were making fun of me, I decided to remain as I +was as a punishment for my stupid vanity. There were a number +<span class='pageno' id='Page_431'>431</span>of strangers among us, who nudged each other, pointing to me +and laughing slyly at my absurd get-up, and this was only what +I deserved.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We went down the flight of steps cut in the block of ice in +order to get underneath the Canadian Falls. The sight there +was most strange and extraordinary. Above me I saw an immense +cupola of ice hanging over in space, attached only on one +side to the rock. From this cupola thousands of icicles of the +most varied shapes were hanging. There were dragons, arrows, +crosses, laughing faces, sorrowful faces, hands with six fingers, +deformed feet, incomplete human bodies, and women’s long locks +of hair. In fact, with the help of the imagination and by fixing +the gaze when looking with half-shut eyes, the illusion is complete, +and in less time than it takes to describe all this one can +evoke all the pictures of nature and of our dreams, all the wild +conceptions of a diseased mind, or the realities of a reflective +brain.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In front of us were small steeples of ice, some of them proud +and erect, standing out against the sky, others ravaged by the +wind which gnaws the ice, looking like minarets ready for the +muezzin. On the right a cascade was rushing down as noisily +as on the other side, but the sun had commenced its descent +towards the west, and everything was tinged with a rosy hue. +The water splashed over us, and we were suddenly covered with +small silvery waves which when shaken slightly stiffened against +our mackintoshes. It was a shoal of very small fish which had +had the misfortune to be driven into the current, and which had +come to die in the dazzling brilliancy of the setting sun. On +the other side there was a small block which looked like a +rhinoceros entering the water.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“I should love to mount on that!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, but it is impossible,” replied one of my friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh, as to that, nothing is impossible,” I said. “There is only +the risk; the crevice to be covered is not a yard long.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“No, but it is deep,” remarked an artiste who was with us.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Well,” I said, “my dog is just dead. We will bet a dog—and if I win I am to choose my dog—that I go.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>Abbey was fetched immediately, but he only arrived in time +to see me on the block. I came very near falling into the crevice, +and when I was on the back of the rhinoceros I could not stand +<span class='pageno' id='Page_432'>432</span>up. It was as smooth and transparent as artificial ice. I sat down +on its back, holding on to the little hump, and I declared that if +no one came to fetch me I should stay where I was, as I had not +the courage to move a step on this slippery back; and then, too, +it seemed to me as though it moved slightly. I began to lose +my self-possession. I felt dizzy, but I had won my dog. My +excitement was over, and I was seized with fright. Every one +gazed at me in a bewildered way, and that increased my terror. +My sister went into hysterics, and my dear Guérard groaned in a +heartrending way, “Oh heavens, my dear Sarah, oh heavens!” +An artist was making sketches; fortunately the members of +our company had gone up again in order to go and see the +Rapids. Abbey besought me to return; poor Jarrett besought +me. But I felt dizzy, and I could not and would not cross +again. Angelo then sprang across the crevice, and remaining +there, called for a plank of wood and a hatchet.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Bravo! bravo!” I exclaimed from the back of my rhinoceros.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The plank was brought. It was an old, black-looking piece of +wood, and I glanced at it suspiciously. The hatchet cut into +the tail of my rhinoceros, and the plank was fixed firmly by +Angelo on my side and held by Abbey, Jarrett, and Claude on the +other side. I let myself slide over the crupper of my rhinoceros, +and I then started, not without terror, along the rotten plank of +wood, which was so narrow that I was obliged to put one foot +in front of the other, the heel over the toe. I returned in a very +feverish state to the hotel, and the artist brought me the droll +sketches he had taken.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After a light luncheon I was to start again by the train, which +had been waiting for us twenty minutes. All the others had +taken their seats some time before. I was leaving without +having seen the rapids in which my poor Pittsburg friend met +his death.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_433'>433</span> + <h2 class='c008'>XXXVIII<br> <span class='large'>THE RETURN TO FRANCE—THE WELCOME AT HÂVRE</span></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>Our great voyage was drawing towards its close. I say great +voyage, for it was my first one. It had lasted seven months. +The voyages I have since undertaken were always from eleven +to sixteen months.</p> + +<p class='c013'>From Buffalo we went to Rochester, Utica, Syracuse, Albany, +Troy, Worcester, Providence, Newark, making a short stay in +Washington, an admirable city, but one which at that time +had a sadness about it that affected one’s nerves. It was the +last large city I visited.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After two admirable performances there and a supper at the +Embassy, we left for Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York, +where our tour was to come to a close. In that city I gave a +grand professional <i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i> at the general demand of the actors +and actresses of New York. The piece chosen was <cite><span lang="fr">La Princesse +Georges</span></cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Oh, what a fine and never-to-be-forgotten performance! +Everything was applauded by the artistes. Nothing escaped +the particular state of mind of that audience made up of actors +and actresses, painters and sculptors. At the end of the play +a gold hair-comb was handed to me, on which were engraved the +names of a great number of persons present. From Salvini I +received a pretty casket of lapis, and from Mary Anderson, at +that time in the striking beauty of her nineteen years, a small +medal bearing a forget-me-not in turquoises. In my dressing-room +I counted one hundred and thirty bouquets.</p> + +<p class='c013'>That evening we gave our last performance with <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux +Camélias</span></cite>. I had to return and bow to the public fourteen +times.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_434'>434</span>Then I had a moment’s stupefaction, for in the tempest of +cries and bravos I heard a shrill cry shouted by thousands of +mouths, which I did not in the least understand. After +each “call” I asked in the wings what the meaning of the word +was that struck on my ears like a dreadful sneeze, beginning +again time after time. Jarrett appeared and enlightened me. +“They are calling for a speech.” I looked at him, abashed. +“Yes, they want you to make a little speech.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah no!” I exclaimed, as I again went on the stage to make a +bow. “No.” And in making my bow to the public I murmured, +“I cannot speak. But I can tell you: Thank you, with all my +heart!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was in the midst of a thunder of applause, underscored +with “Hip, hip, hurrah! <i><span lang="fr">Vive la France!</span></i>” that I left the +theatre.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On Wednesday, May 4, I embarked on the same Trans-atlantic +steamer, the <em>America</em>, the phantom vessel to which my +journey had brought good luck. But it had no longer the same +commander. The new one’s name was Santelli. He was as +little and fair-complexioned as his predecessor was big and dark. +But he was as charming, and a nice conversationist.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Commander Jowclas blew his brains out after losing heavily +at play.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My cabin had been newly fitted up, and this time the wood-work +had been covered in sky-blue material. On boarding the +steamer I turned towards the friendly crowd and threw them +a last adieu. “<i><span lang="fr">Au revoir!</span></i>” they shouted back.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I then went towards my cabin. Standing at the door, in an +elegant iron-grey suit, wearing pointed shoes, hat in the latest +style, and dog-skin gloves, stood Henry Smith, the showman +of whales. I gave a cry like that of a wild beast. He kept +his joyful smile, and held out a jewel casket, which I took +with the object of throwing it into the sea through the open +port-hole. But Jarrett caught hold of my arm and took possession +of the casket, which he opened. “It is magnificent!” he +exclaimed, but I had closed my eyes. I stopped up my ears and +cried out to the man, “Go away! you knave! you brute! Go +away! I hope you will die under atrocious suffering! Go +away!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I half opened my eyes. He had gone. Jarrett wanted to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_435'>435</span>talk to me about the present. I would not hear anything +about it.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah, for God’s sake, Mr. Jarrett, leave me alone! Since this +jewel is so fine, give it to your daughter, and do not speak to me +about it any more.” And he did so.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The evening before my departure from America I had received +a long cablegram, signed Grosos, president of the Life +Saving Society at Hâvre, asking me to give upon my arrival +a performance, the proceeds of which would be distributed +among the families of the society of Life Savers. I accepted +with unspeakable joy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>On regaining my native land, I should assist in drying tears.</p> + +<p class='c013'>After the decks had been cleared for departure, our ship +moved slowly off, and we left New York on Thursday the +5th of May.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Detesting sea travelling as I usually do, I set out this time +with a light heart and smiling face, disdainful of the horrible +discomfort caused by the voyage.</p> + +<p class='c013'>We had not left New York forty-eight hours when the vessel +stopped. I sprang out of my berth, and was soon on deck, +fearing some accident to our <em>Phantom</em>, as we had nick-named +the ship. In front of us a French boat had raised, lowered, +and again raised its small flags. The captain, who had given +the replies to these signals, sent for me, and explained to me +the working and the orthography of the signals. I could not +remember anything he told me, I must confess to my shame. A +small boat was lowered from the ship opposite us, and two +sailors and a young man very poorly dressed and with a pale +face embarked. Our captain had the steps lowered, the small +boat was hailed, and the young man, escorted by two sailors, came +on deck. One of them handed a letter to the officer who was +waiting at the top of the steps. He read it, and looking at the +young man he said quietly, “Follow me!” The small boat +and the sailors returned to the ship, the boat was hoisted, the +whistle shrieked, and after the usual salute the two ships continued +their way. The unfortunate young man was brought +before the captain. I went away, after asking the captain to tell +me later on what was the meaning of it all, unless it should +prove to be something which had to be kept secret.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The captain came himself and told me the little story. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_436'>436</span>young man was a poor artist, a wood-engraver, who had +managed to slip on to a steamer bound for New York. He had +not a sou of money for his passage, as he had not even been +able to pay for an emigrant’s ticket. He had hoped to get +through without being noticed, hiding under the bales of +various kinds. He had, however, been taken ill, and it was this +illness which had betrayed him. Shivering with cold and +feverish, he had talked aloud in his sleep, uttering the most +incoherent words. He was taken into the infirmary, and when +there he had confessed everything. The captain undertook to +make him accept what I sent him for his journey to America. +The story soon spread, and other passengers made a collection, so +that the young engraver found himself very soon in possession of +a fortune of twelve hundred francs. Three days later he brought +me a little wooden box, manufactured, carved, and engraved by +him. This little box is now nearly full of petals of flowers, for +every year on May 7 I received a small bouquet of flowers with +these words, always the same ones, year after year, “Gratitude +and devotion.” I always put the petals of the flowers into the +little box, but for the last seven years I have not received any. +Is it forgetfulness or death which has caused the artist to discontinue +this graceful little token of gratitude? I have no idea, +but the sight of the box always gives me a vague feeling of +sadness, as forgetfulness and death are the most faithful companions +of the human being. Forgetfulness takes up its abode +in our mind, in our heart, while death is always present laying +traps for us, watching all we do, and jeering gaily when sleep +closes our eyes, for we give it then the illusion of what it +knows will some day be a reality.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Apart from the above incident, nothing particular happened +during the voyage. I spent every night on deck gazing at the +horizon, hoping to draw towards me that land on which were +my loved ones. I turned in towards morning, and slept all day +to kill the time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The steamers in those days did not perform the crossing with +the same speed as they do nowadays. The hours seemed to me to +be wickedly long. I was so impatient to land that I called for +the doctor and asked him to send me to sleep for eighteen hours. +He gave me twelve hours sleep with a strong dose of chloral, and +I felt stronger and calmer for affronting the shock of happiness.</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_437'>437</span>Santelli had promised that we should arrive on the evening of +the 14th. I was ready, and had been walking up and down +distractedly for an hour when an officer came to ask whether I +would not go on to the bridge with the commander, who was +waiting for me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>With my sister I went up in haste, and soon understood +from the embarrassed circumlocutions of the amiable Santelli +that we were too far off to hope to make the harbour that night.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I began to cry. I thought we should never arrive. I +imagined that the sprite was going to triumph, and I wept +those tears that were like a brook that runs on and on without +ceasing.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The commander did what he could to bring me to a rational +state of mind. I descended from the bridge with both body +and soul like limp rags.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I lay down on a deck-chair, and when dawn came was benumbed +and sleepy.</p> + +<p class='c013'>It was five in the morning. We were still twenty miles from +land. The sun, however, began joyously to brighten up the +small white clouds, light as snowflakes. The remembrance of my +young beloved one gave me courage again. I ran towards my +cabin. I spent a long while over my toilet in order to kill time.</p> + +<p class='c013'>At seven o’clock I made inquiries of the captain.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“We are twelve miles off,” he said. “In two hours we shall +land.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“You swear to it?”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Yes, I swear.” I returned on deck, where, leaning on the +bulwark, I scanned the distance. A small steamer appeared on +the horizon. I saw it without looking at it, expecting every +minute to hear a cry from over there, over there....</p> + +<p class='c013'>All at once I noticed masses of little white flags being waved +on the small steamer. I got my glasses—and then let them fall +with a joyous cry that left me without any strength, without +breath. I wanted to speak: I could not. My face, it appears, +became so pale that it frightened the people who were about +me. My sister Jeanne wept as she waved her arms towards +the distance.</p> + +<p class='c013'>They wanted to make me sit down. I would not. Hanging +on to the bulwarks, I smell the salts that are thrust under my +nose. I allow friendly hands to wipe my temples, but I am +<span class='pageno' id='Page_438'>438</span>gazing over there whence the vessel is coming. Over there lies +my happiness! my joy! my life! my everything! dearer than +everything!</p> + +<p class='c013'>The <em>Diamond</em> (the vessel’s name) comes near. A bridge of +love is formed between the small and the large ship, a bridge +formed of the beatings of our hearts, under the weight of the +kisses that have been kept back for so many days. Then +comes the reaction that takes place in our tears, when the small +boats, coming up to the large vessel, allow the impatient ones to +climb up the rope ladders and throw themselves into outstretched +arms.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The <em>America</em> is invaded. Every one is there, my dear and +faithful friends. They have accompanied my young son Maurice. +Ah, what a delicious time! Answers get ahead of questions. +Laughter is mingled with tears. Hands are pressed, lips are +kissed, only to begin over again. One is never tired of this +repetition of tender affection. During this time our ship is +moving. The <em>Diamond</em> has disappeared, carrying away the mails. +The farther we advance, the more small boats we meet; they +are decked with flags, ploughing the sea. There are a hundred +of them. And more are coming....</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Is it a public holiday?” I asked Georges Boyer, the correspondent +of the <cite>Figaro</cite>, who with some friends had come to +meet me.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Oh yes, Madame, a great <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> day to-day at Hâvre, for they +are expecting the return of a fairy who left seven months ago.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Is it really in my honour that all these pretty boats have +spread their wings and be-flagged their masts? Ah, how happy +I am!” We are now alongside the jetty. There are perhaps +twenty thousand people there, who cry out, “<i><span lang="fr">Vive</span></i> Sarah +Bernhardt!”</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was dumfounded. I did not expect any triumphant return. +I was well aware that the performance to be given for the Life +Saving Society had won the hearts of the people of Hâvre, but +now I learnt that trains had come from Paris, packed with people, +to welcome my return....</p> + +<p class='c013'>I feel my pulse. It is me. I am not dreaming.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The boat stops opposite a red velvet tent, and an invisible +orchestra strikes up an air from <cite><span lang="fr">Le Châlet</span></cite>, “<cite><span lang="fr">Arrêtons-nous +ici</span></cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_439'>439</span>I smile at this quite French childishness. I get off and walk +through the midst of a hedge of smiling, kind faces of sailors, +who offer me flowers.</p> + +<p class='c013'>Within the tent all the life-savers are waiting for me, wearing +on their broad chests the medals they have so well deserved.</p> + +<p class='c013'>M. Grosos, the president, reads to me the following address:</p> + +<p class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Madame</span>,—As President, I have the honour to present to you +a delegation from the Life Saving Society of Hâvre, come to +welcome you and express their gratitude for the sympathy you +have so warmly worded in your transatlantic despatch.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“We have also come to congratulate you on the immense +success that you have met with at every place you have visited +during your adventurous journey. You have now achieved in +two worlds an incontestable popularity and artistic celebrity; +and your marvellous talent, added to your personal charms, has +affirmed abroad that France is always the land of art and the +birthplace of elegance and beauty.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“A distant echo of the words you spoke in Denmark, +evoking a deep and sad memory, still strikes on our ears. It +repeats that your heart is as French as your talent, for in the +midst of the feverish and burning successes on the stage you +have never forgotten to unite your patriotism to your artistic +triumphs.</p> + +<p class='c016'>“Our life-savers have charged me with expressing to you +their admiration for the charming benefactress whose generous +hand has spontaneously stretched itself out towards their poor +but noble society. They wish to offer you these flowers, gathered +from the soil of the mother-country, on the land of France, +where you will find them everywhere under your feet. They are +worthy that you should accept them with favour, for they are +presented to you by the bravest and most loyal of our life-savers.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>It is said that my reply was very eloquent, but I cannot affirm +that that reply was really made by me. I had lived for several +hours in a state of over-excitement from successive emotions. I +had taken no food, had no sleep. My heart had not ceased +to beat a moving and joyous refrain. My brain had been filled +with a thousand facts that had been piled up for seven months +and narrated in two hours. This triumphant reception, which I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_440'>440</span>was far from expecting after what had happened just before my +departure, after having been so badly treated by the Paris Press, +after the incidents of my journey, which had been always badly +interpreted by several French papers—all these coincidences were +of such different proportions that they seemed hardly credible.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The performance furnished a fruitful harvest for the life-savers. +As for me, I played <cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite> for the first time in +France.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I was really inspired. I affirm that those who were present +at that performance experienced the quintessence of what my +personal art can give.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I spent the night at my place at Ste. Adresse. The day +following I left for Paris.</p> + +<p class='c013'>A most flattering ovation was waiting for me on my arrival. +Then, three days afterwards, installed in my little mansion in the +Avenue de Villiers, I received Victorien Sardou, in order to hear +him read his magnificent piece, <cite>Fédora</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c013'>What a great artiste! What an admirable actor! What a +marvellous author!</p> + +<p class='c013'>He read that play to me right off, playing every <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i>, giving +me in one second the vision of what I should do.</p> + +<p class='c013'>“Ah!” I exclaimed, after the reading was over. “Ah, dear +Master! Thanks for this beautiful part! Thanks for the fine +lesson you have just given me.”</p> + +<p class='c013'>That night left me without sleep, for I wished to catch a +glimpse in the darkness of the small star in which I had faith.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I saw it as dawn was breaking, and fell asleep thinking over +the new era that it was going to light up.</p> + +<hr class='c015'> + +<p class='c013'>My artistic journey had lasted seven months. I had visited +fifty cities, and given 156 performances, as follows:</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>La Dame aux Camélias</td> + <td class='c009'>65</td> + <td class='c025'>performances</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Adrienne Lecouvreur</td> + <td class='c009'>17</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Froufrou</td> + <td class='c009'>41</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>La Princesse Georges</td> + <td class='c009'>3</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Hernani</td> + <td class='c009'>14</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>L’Etrangère</td> + <td class='c009'>3</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Phèdre</td> + <td class='c009'>6</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'>Le Sphinx</td> + <td class='c009'>7</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c010'> </td> + <td class='c009'> </td> + <td class='c026'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>Total receipts</td> + <td class='c009'>2,667,600</td> + <td class='c025'>francs</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c023'>Average receipts</td> + <td class='c009'>17,100</td> + <td class='c026'>„</td> + </tr> +</table> +<div id='i440fp' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i440fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic003'> +<p>BUST OF VICTORIEN SARDOU<br> BY SARAH BERNHARDT</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_441'>441</span>I conclude the first volume of my souvenirs here, for this is +really the first halting-place of my life, the real starting-point +of my physical and moral being.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had run away from the Comédie Française, from Paris, from +France, from my family, and from my friends.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I had thought of having a wild ride across mountains, seas, +and space, and I came back in love with the vast horizon, but +calmed down by the feeling of responsibility which for seven +months had been weighing on my shoulders.</p> + +<p class='c013'>The terrible Jarrett, with his implacable and cruel wisdom, +had tamed my wild nature by a constant appeal to my probity.</p> + +<p class='c013'>In those few months my mind had matured and the brusqueness +of my will was softened.</p> + +<p class='c013'>My life, which I thought at first was to be so short, seemed +now likely to be very, very long, and that gave me a great +mischievous delight whenever I thought of the infernal +displeasure of my enemies.</p> + +<p class='c013'>I resolved to live. I resolved to be the great artiste that +I longed to be.</p> + +<p class='c013'>And from the time of this return I gave myself entirely up +to my life.</p> +<div id='i_facsimile' class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/i_facsimile.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +<div class='ic001'> +<p>[<em>Facsimile of Sarah Bernhardt’s handwriting.</em>]</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_443'>443</span> + <h2 class='c008'>INDEX</h2> +</div> + +<ul class='index c007'> + <li class='c027'>Abbema, Louisa, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Abbey, Henry, American impresario— + <ul> + <li>The American tour, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>;</li> + <li>in New York, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>;</li> + <li>visit to Edison, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>;</li> + <li>travelling arrangements, <a href='#Page_380'>380</a>;</li> + <li>in Montreal, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>;</li> + <li>letter of, to the Bishop of Chicago, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>–2;</li> + <li>the American receipts, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>;</li> + <li>the attempted train robbery, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a>–8;</li> + <li>the crossing to New Orleans, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>–16;</li> + <li>journey to Chicago, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>–22;</li> + <li>the visit to Niagara, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a>–32</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Agar, Mme.— + <ul> + <li>Description, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a>–32;</li> + <li>interest in Coppée, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–34;</li> + <li>commanded to the Tuileries in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–39</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Aicard, Jean, <cite>Othello</cite>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Albany, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Albemarle Hotel, New York, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Alicante, Sarah Bernhardt’s visit to, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a>–15</li> + <li class='c027'>Allou, Maître, advocate of the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Ambre, Emilie, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Ambigu Theatre, the, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li> + <li class='c027'>American Falls, the, <a href='#Page_428'>428</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Amiens, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Amphytrion</cite>, first visit of Sarah Bernhardt to, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>–58</li> + <li class='c027'>Anderson, Mary, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Andromaque</cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Angelo, artiste, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_432'>432</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Annette, Aunt, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Antoine, M., comments of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li> + <li class='c027'><em>Aricie</em>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Arville, Renée d’, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'><em>Athalie</em>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Atlanta, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Auber, M., director of the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–60, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>–69</li> + <li class='c027'>Audierne in Brittany, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Augier, Emile— + <ul> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">La Fille de Roland</span></cite>, the discussion regarding, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>–68;</li> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">Gabrielle</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>–34</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Auteuil, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>–11, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Aventurière, L’</span></cite>, by E. Augier, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>–34</li> + <li class='c027'>Avenue des Acacias, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Baden-Baden, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Baie des Trépassés, Brittany, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Baltimore, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>; + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Barbédienne, clock-maker, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Barboux, Maître, advocate, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Baretta, Blanche, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Rose, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>–42</li> + <li class='c027'>Baron, Messrs., dresses from, for the American tour, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Barrett, tragedian, <a href='#Page_419'>419</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bartet, comments of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Batifoulé, Father, of Audierne, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bazaine, treachery of, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Beauvallet, M.— + <ul> + <li>Conservatoire examination, at the, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>–69;</li> + <li>his style of teaching, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li> + <li>remark to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>;</li> + <li>as a comrade, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Benedict, Sir Julius, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Berendt, Aunt Rosine— + <ul> + <li>Visits to the Convent of Grand-Champs, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>–20;</li> + <li>at the family council, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>–55;</li> + <li>decides to take Sarah Bernhardt to the Théâtre Français, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>–56;</li> + <li>saying of, repeated to M. Doucet by Régina, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>–77;</li> + <li>proposes the fencing-lessons, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>;</li> + <li>lends dress to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>;</li> + <li>and carriage, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a>;</li> + <li>dinner given by, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>;</li> + <li>present of the ponies, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>–28;</li> + <li>gambling propensities, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>;</li> + <li>return to Paris, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>;</li> + <li><em>otherwise mentioned</em>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>–6, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>–12, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>–36, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Bernhardt, Jeanne— + <ul> + <li>Characteristics, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;</li> + <li>reception of Sarah Bernhardt on her return from Spain, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li> + <li>her mother’s love for her, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–19;</li> + <li>faces the crowd in New York, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>;</li> + <li>visit to Edison, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>;</li> + <li>in Boston, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>;</li> + <li>in Montreal, <a href='#Page_391'>391</a>–92;</li> + <li>visit to the Iroquois, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>;</li> + <li>escapade on the St. Lawrence, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>–97;</li> + <li>the crossing to New Orleans, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>–16;</li> + <li>journey to Chicago, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>–22;</li> + <li>at Niagara, <a href='#Page_432'>432</a>;</li> + <li>the return from America, <a href='#Page_437'>437</a>;</li> + <li><em>otherwise mentioned</em>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Mme.— + <ul> + <li>Visits to Sarah Bernhardt in childhood, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>–5;</li> + <li>takes her to the Convent of Grand-Champs, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>–20;</li> + <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_444'>444</span>announces death of her father to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>–36;</li> + <li>at Cauterets, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li> + <li>friendship of Mme. Croizette for, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>;</li> + <li>the family council, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>–55;</li> + <li>takes Sarah Bernhardt to the Française, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>–58;</li> + <li>sends her to the Conservatoire with Mme. Guérard, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–60;</li> + <li>receives her on her return, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>–72;</li> + <li>favours suit of M. Bed——, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>;</li> + <li>moved by the recital of “L’Ame du Purgatoire,” <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>;</li> + <li>attends the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>;</li> + <li>anger of, at Sarcey’s article, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li> + <li>the arrangements for Sarah Bernhardt’s engagement at the Gymnase, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>–8;</li> + <li>illness of, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>–17;</li> + <li>her love for Jeanne, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–19;</li> + <li>visit to the Odéon, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li> + <li>visit to the Rue Auber flat, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>–41;</li> + <li>note to Sarah Bernhardt during the siege, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a>;</li> + <li>return to Paris, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>;</li> + <li>her fainting fit at the Odéon, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>–48;</li> + <li><em>otherwise mentioned</em>, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Mme., grandmother, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— M., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>; + <ul> + <li>takes Sarah Bernhardt to the Convent of Grand-Champs, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>–20;</li> + <li>death of, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Régina— + <ul> + <li>Personality as a child, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>–72;</li> + <li>visit to M. Doucet, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>–77;</li> + <li>the trouble with Mme. Nathalie, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>;</li> + <li>reception of Sarah Bernhardt on her return from Spain, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li> + <li>takes up her abode in the Rue Duphot, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–19;</li> + <li>return to Paris, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>;</li> + <li>bust of, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>;</li> + <li>death of, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>–58</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Sarah— + <ul> + <li>Childhood, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>–5;</li> + <li>at boarding school, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>–11;</li> + <li>at the Convent of Grand-Champs, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>–26;</li> + <li>her <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> in <cite>Tobit recovering his Eyesight</cite>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>–34;</li> + <li>baptism and confirmation, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>–37;</li> + <li>visit to Cauterets, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>–39;</li> + <li>return to the convent and incident of the shako, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>–45;</li> + <li>the family council, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>–55;</li> + <li>her first visit to the Française, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>–58;</li> + <li>literary tastes, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>;</li> + <li>interview with M. Auber of the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–60;</li> + <li>first lesson in elocution from Mlle. de Brabender, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>–63;</li> + <li>first examination at the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>–72;</li> + <li>a marriage proposal, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>–75;</li> + <li>Conservatoire successes, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>;</li> + <li>life at the Conservatoire: + <ul> + <li>deportment class, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>–79;</li> + <li>fencing class, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>;</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li>second prize for comedy, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>–86;</li> + <li>progress under Samson, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li> + <li>incident of the hairdressing, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>–82;</li> + <li>aim of, to define the author’s idea, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>–87;</li> + <li><i><span lang="fr">début</span></i> at the Comédie in <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Iphigénie, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>–101;</li> + <li>her motto of “Quand-même,” <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>, <a href='#Page_310'>310</a>;</li> + <li>incident which caused her first departure from the Française, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>–6;</li> + <li>revenge of Mme. Nathalie, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>;</li> + <li>the expedition to Spain, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>–15;</li> + <li>return and resolve to live independently, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>–17;</li> + <li>the flat in the Rue Duphot, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–19;</li> + <li>engagement at the Odéon, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>–24;</li> + <li>introduces Coppée’s <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite> to Duquesnel, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–34;</li> + <li>its success, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–40;</li> + <li>fire in the Rue Auber, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>–45;</li> + <li>subsequent benefit at the Odéon, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>–46;</li> + <li>visit to Eaux-Bonnes, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>–55;</li> + <li>return to Paris, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>;</li> + <li>removal of her family before the siege, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>–59;</li> + <li>organisation of the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>–61;</li> + <li>working of, and incidents, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a>–87;</li> + <li>collecting the dead from the Châtillon Plateau, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>;</li> + <li>preparations for leaving Paris, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>–88;</li> + <li>the journey through the German lines to Homburg, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>–215;</li> + <li>adventure at Cologne, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>–13;</li> + <li>return to Paris and establishment in the Rue Rome, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>–18;</li> + <li>friends of, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a>–21;</li> + <li>removal to St. Germain-en-Laye, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>–24;</li> + <li>return to Paris and reopening of the Odéon, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>–25;</li> + <li>letter from M. Perrin, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>–36;</li> + <li>interview with Duquesnel and De Chilly, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>–37;</li> + <li>engagement with the Comédie, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>–39;</li> + <li>the supper at the Odéon, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>–43;</li> + <li>treatment of M. Perrin, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>–53;</li> + <li>passion for sculpture, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>;</li> + <li>incident of the coffin, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>–58;</li> + <li>visit to Brittany, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>–64;</li> + <li>painting, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a>–61;</li> + <li>descent of the Enfer du Plogoff, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>–64;</li> + <li>return to Paris, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>;</li> + <li>Sociétaire of the Comédie, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li> + <li>building of the new mansion, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>–71;</li> + <li>Perrin’s tricks on, in staging <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>–74;</li> + <li>her anger with Dumas, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a>–75;</li> + <li>lunch with Victor Hugo, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>;</li> + <li>quarrels with Perrin, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>–83, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a>;</li> + <li>balloon trip in the “Dona Sol,” <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>–88;</li> + <li>illness and visit to the South, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>;</li> + <li>sale of the group <cite>After the Tempest</cite>, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>–90;</li> + <li>strained relations with Perrin, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li>appointed Sociétaire permanently, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>;</li> + <li>dispute with the committee of the Comédie, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>–95;</li> + <li>the Journey to London, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>–300;</li> + <li>reception at Folkestone, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>–98;</li> + <li>her hatred of reporters, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a>–300, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a>;</li> + <li>impressions of English society, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>–2;</li> + <li>impressions of London life, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a>–4;</li> + <li>first appearance at the Gaiety Theatre, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>–8;</li> + <li>stage fright, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>–6;</li> + <li>illness after first appearance and immediate performance of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–13;</li> + <li>exhibition of sculpture and painting in Piccadilly, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a>–15;</li> + <li>conversation with Mr. Gladstone, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a>;</li> + <li>the visit to Cross’s Zoo and purchase of the animals, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>–18;</li> + <li>Press attacks and trouble with the Française, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>–25;</li> + <li>open letter to Albert Wolff, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>–22;</li> + <li>return to Paris, and opening ceremony at the Française, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>–28;</li> + <li>comments on artistes, <a href='#Page_328'>328</a>–30;</li> + <li>performance of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite> and departure from the Française, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>–34;</li> + <li>illness at Hâvre, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>–34;</li> + <li>contract for the American tour signed, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>–35;</li> + <li>second visit to London, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>–41;</li> + <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_445'>445</span>tour in Denmark, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>–47;</li> + <li>decorated by the King of Denmark, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>;</li> + <li>the supper in Copenhagen, and toast of Baron Magnus, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>–47;</li> + <li>farewell reception in Paris, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>–48;</li> + <li>“The Twenty-eight Days of Sarah Bernhardt,” <a href='#Page_348'>348</a>–49;</li> + <li>contract with M. Bertrand signed, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>–50;</li> + <li>experiences on board ship from Hâvre to New York, <a href='#Page_352'>352</a>–60;</li> + <li>her <i><span lang="fr">fête</span></i> day on board, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>–60;</li> + <li>arrival in New York, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>–67;</li> + <li>the New York reporters, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>–68;</li> + <li>visit to Mr. Edison, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>–79;</li> + <li>arrival in Boston and story of the whale, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>–87;</li> + <li>reception in Montreal, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>–93;</li> + <li>visit to the Iroquois, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>–94;</li> + <li>escapade on the St. Lawrence, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>–97;</li> + <li>welcome to Chicago, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>–400;</li> + <li>visit to the stock-yards, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>–01;</li> + <li>visit to the grotto of St. Louis, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>–3;</li> + <li>the incident of the jewellery exhibition and attempted train robbery, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>–8;</li> + <li>opinions concerning capital punishment, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>–13;</li> + <li>the crossing to New Orleans, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>–16;</li> + <li>difficulties of playing in Mobile, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a>–420;</li> + <li>journey from Springfield to Chicago, blocked by the snow, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>–22;</li> + <li>a visit to the Falls of Niagara, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a>–32;</li> + <li>the professional <i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i> in New York, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>–34;</li> + <li>the return journey, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>–38;</li> + <li>the welcome at Hâvre, <a href='#Page_438'>438</a>–40</li> + <li><em>American Tour</em>— + <ul> + <li><em>Baltimore</em>, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li> + <li><em>Boston</em>, Hernani, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>;</li> + <li><em>Chicago</em>, Phèdre, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>;</li> + <li><em>Milwaukee</em>, Froufrou and La Dame aux Camélias, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>;</li> + <li><em>Montreal</em>, Hernani, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;</li> + <li><em>New York</em>, Adrienne Lecouvreur, Froufrou, etc., <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>;</li> + <li><em>Philadelphia</em>, Phèdre, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li> + <li><em>Pittsburg</em>, La Princesse Georges, <a href='#Page_426'>426</a>;</li> + <li><em>Springfield</em>, La Dame aux Camélias, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><i><span lang="fr">Comédie Française</span></i>— + <ul> + <li>Andromaque, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>L’Aventurière, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>–34;</li> + <li>La Belle Paule, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>;</li> + <li>Britannicus, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>–49;</li> + <li>Dalila, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>L’Etrangère, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>–75;</li> + <li>La Fille de Roland, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>–68;</li> + <li>Gabrielle, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li> + <li>Hernani, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li> + <li>Iphigénie, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>–97;</li> + <li>Mlle. de Belle-Isle, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>–48;</li> + <li>Le Mariage de Figaro, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>Mithridate, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li>Phèdre, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>–66;</li> + <li>Rome Vaincue, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a>;</li> + <li>Ruy Blas, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li>Le Sphinx, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>–54;</li> + <li>Zaïre, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>–56</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><em>Denmark, Tour in</em>— + <ul> + <li><em>Brussels</em>, Adrienne Lecouvreur and Froufrou, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;</li> + <li><em>Copenhagen</em>, Adrienne Lecouvreur and Froufrou, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>–44</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><em>London, the Gaiety Theatre</em>— + <ul> + <li>Adrienne Lecouvreur, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>;</li> + <li>L’Etrangère, <a href='#Page_310'>310</a>–13, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>;</li> + <li>Froufrou, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>–40;</li> + <li>Phèdre, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>–8;</li> + <li>Zaïre, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><em>Odéon Theatre</em>— + <ul> + <li>L’Affranchi, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li> + <li>Athalie, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li> + <li>L’Autre, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li> + <li>Le Bâtard, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li> + <li>La biche au bois, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>–22;</li> + <li>François le Champi, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li> + <li>Jean-Marie, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>–225;</li> + <li>Le jeu de l’amour et du hasard, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>;</li> + <li>Kean, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>–31;</li> + <li>La loterie du mariage, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a>;</li> + <li>Le Marquis de Villemer, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li> + <li>Ruy Blas, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>–30;</li> + <li>Le testament de César, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><em>Painting</em>— + <ul> + <li>“Palm Sunday,” <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>;</li> + <li>“The Young Girl and Death,” <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>–83</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><em>Sculpture</em>— + <ul> + <li><em>Busts</em>: Alphonse de Rothschild, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>; + <ul> + <li>Miss Multon, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>;</li> + <li>Mlle. Hocquigny, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>;</li> + <li>Régina Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>–58;</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><em>Group</em>, “After the Storm,” <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>–78, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>“Bernhardtists,” the, at the Comédie, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>–254</li> + <li class='c027'>Berton, Pierre, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a>, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bertrand, M. Eugène, director of the Variétés, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>–50</li> + <li class='c027'>Bismarck, Prince, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bloas, Désiré, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bocher, Emmanuel, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a>–92</li> + <li class='c027'>Bois de Boulogne, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Booth, actor, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Booth’s Theatre, New York, <a href='#Page_369'>369</a>, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bornier, Henri de, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>–68, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Boston— + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_380'>380</a>–381;</li> + <li>the women of, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a>;</li> + <li>story of the whale, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>–87</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Bouilhet, M., <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite>Dolorès</cite>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>;</li> + <li><em>Mlle. Aïssé</em>, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Boulevard Medicis, ambulance of, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bourbaki, M., defence of Paris, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bourg de Batz, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Boyer, Georges, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>, <a href='#Page_438'>438</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Brabender, Mlle. de— + <ul> + <li>Governess to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li> + <li>at the family council, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>–55;</li> + <li>accompanies her mistress to the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>–58, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>;</li> + <li>first lessons in elocution, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>–63;</li> + <li>accompanies Sarah Bernhardt to the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>–72, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>–84, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li> + <li>the embroidered handkerchief, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>;</li> + <li>death of, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>–25</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Bradford, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Bressant, M.— + <ul> + <li>At the Comédie, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Mlle. de Belle-Isle</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>–48, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite>Hernani</cite>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>;</li> + <li>benefit performance for, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="la">Britannicus</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>–49</li> + <li class='c027'>Brittany, visit of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>–64</li> + <li class='c027'>Brohan, Augustine, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>–69</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Madeleine, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>; + <ul> + <li>her advice to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>–19</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Marie, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Brooklyn Bridge, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Brussels, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>; + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Buffalo, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>, <a href='#Page_426'>426</a>, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Buguet, Louise, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>–31</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Marie, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Busigny, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a></li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_446'>446</span>Busnach, William, wit of, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>–34</li> + <li class='c027'>Butin, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Campbell, Beatrice Patrick, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Canadian Falls, the, <a href='#Page_431'>431</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Canrobert, Marshal, at Saint-Privat, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>; + <ul> + <li>his friendship for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>–34, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Cap Martin, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Capital, punishment, opinions of Sarah Bernhardt concerning, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>–13</li> + <li class='c027'>Cardaños, Dolores, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Pepa, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Caroline, maid, journey to Spain, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>–15, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Carthusians, the, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cateau, <a href='#Page_205'>205</a>, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Catherine, servant, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Caughnanwaga, <a href='#Page_394'>394</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cauterets, the visit to, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>–39</li> + <li class='c027'>Caux, Marquis de, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Marquise de; <em>see</em> Patti, Adelina</li> + <li class='c027'>Célimène played by Marie Lloyd, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cerise, Baron, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li> + <li class='c027'>César, the convent dog, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>–33, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Chanzy, defence of Paris, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Charing Cross Station, first arrival of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Charmel, Eugénie, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>–32</li> + <li class='c027'>Châtelain, pupil at the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Châtillon Plateau, collecting the dead from, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Chatterton, M., secretary, <a href='#Page_406'>406</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Chesneau, Commandant Monfils, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Chester Square, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a>–300</li> + <li class='c027'>Cheval-Blanc, Hôtel du, Amiens, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Chez l’Avocat</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Chicago— + <ul> + <li>Arrival of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>–400;</li> + <li>the stock-yards, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>–401</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Chilly, M. de— + <ul> + <li>Treatment of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>–21, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>–26;</li> + <li>his change of attitude, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>–27, <a href='#Page_139'>139</a>, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li> + <li>manager of the Odéon, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>;</li> + <li>the law-suit against Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>–37, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li> + <li>the supper at the Odéon, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li> + <li>his death, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>–43</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Chrysagère, the tortoise, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cincinnati, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cladel, Léon, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Clairin, Georges— + <ul> + <li>Interest in career of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li> + <li>the trip in the “Dona Sol,” <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>–87;</li> + <li>sketch of the animals, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li> + <li>at the farewell reception in Paris, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Clamart, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_413'>413</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Claretie, Jules, <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Clarisse, Mlle., <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>–48</li> + <li class='c027'>Claude, serving-man, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>–61, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>–16, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cleveland, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Coblentz, Mlle., <a href='#Page_98'>98</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Colas, Mlle. Stella, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Cologne, Sarah Bernhardt’s adventure at, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>–13</li> + <li class='c027'>Colt gun factory, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Columbus, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Comédie Française, the— + <ul> + <li>First visit of Sarah Bernhardt to, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>–58;</li> + <li>her first engagement as Iphigénie, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>–97;</li> + <li>her <i><span lang="fr">début</span></i>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>–101;</li> + <li>Molière’s anniversary ceremony, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>;</li> + <li>the Sociétaires, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li> + <li>resignations of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>–6, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>–34;</li> + <li>social spirit of the, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>;</li> + <li>letter from M. Perrin to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>–36;</li> + <li>her engagement signed with M. Perrin, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>–39;</li> + <li>the “Croizettists” and “Bernhardtists,” <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>–54;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt becomes a Sociétaire, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li> + <li>transference of the company to London, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>;</li> + <li>their request to Mr. Johnson, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s trouble with, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>–25;</li> + <li>their return to Paris and the opening ceremony, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>–28;</li> + <li>the law-suit against Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>–38;</li> + <li>receipts from the Gaiety performances, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>–38</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Commune, the Paris, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>–24, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Compagnie Transatlantique, <a href='#Page_352'>352</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“Complaint of the Hungry Stomachs,” <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Connaught, Duke of, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Conservatoire, the— + <ul> + <li>Advice of the Duc de Morny, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>–55;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s first examination, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>–72;</li> + <li>her second examination and prize for comedy, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>–86</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Copenhagen, Sarah Bernhardt’s week in, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>–47</li> + <li class='c027'>Coppée, François, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>; + <ul> + <li>success of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–39</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Coquelin, M.— + <ul> + <li>Style of, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li> + <li>meeting with Sarah Bernhardt at the Théâtre Français, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Chez l’Avocat</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Gabrielle</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>, <a href='#Page_311'>311</a>, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>;</li> + <li>his mission to Marie Lloyd, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>;</li> + <li>advice to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>–23;</li> + <li>comments of Sarah Bernhardt on, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a>;</li> + <li>his return to London, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Creil, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Croizette, Mme., <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Pauline, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Sophie— + <ul> + <li>Friendship with Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>–48, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Mlle. de Belle-Isle</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite>Dalila</cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Mariage de Figaro</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>her method with M. Perrin, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, the quarrel over the “moon,” <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>–54;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>–75, <a href='#Page_311'>311</a>–13;</li> + <li>appointed Sociétaire permanently, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>“Croizettists,” the, at the Comédie, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>–54</li> + <li class='c027'>Cross, Mr., his Zoo in Liverpool, visit of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>–17</li> + <li class='c027'>Custom-House, the New York, <a href='#Page_369'>369</a>–373</li> + <li class='c007'><cite>Daily Telegraph</cite>, tribute to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Dalila</cite>, by Octave Feuillet, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_447'>447</span>Damien, Hortense, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>–301</li> + <li class='c027'><em>Davenant</em>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Davennes, M., of the Comédie, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>–95, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Dayton, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Debay, Mlle., in <cite><span lang="fr">La biche au bois</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>–22</li> + <li class='c027'>Delaunay, M.— + <ul> + <li>In <cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite>Hernani</cite>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>;</li> + <li>drawing-room entertainments in London, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>–95;</li> + <li>his advice to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>–23</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Delavigne, Casimir— + <ul> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">L’Ecole des Viellards</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">La Fille du Cid</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">L’Ame du Purgatoire</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Delorme, René, <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Delpit, Albert, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Denayrouse, Louis, <cite><span lang="fr">La Belle Paule</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Denmark— + <ul> + <li>King and Queen of, present at the performances of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>–44;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions of, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Depaul, Virginie, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Deschamp, Georges, visit to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a>–18</li> + <li class='c027'>Deshayes, Paul, <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>–30</li> + <li class='c027'>Deslandes, Raymond, <cite><span lang="fr">Un mari qui lance sa femme</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Desmoulins, M. de la Tour, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Despagne, Dr., <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Detroit, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Devoyod, Mme., <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c027'><em>Diamond</em>, the vessel, <a href='#Page_438'>438</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Dieudonnée, Mme., <a href='#Page_113'>113</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“Dona Sol,” the balloon, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Doré, Gustave, lunch with Victor Hugo, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>–81; + <ul> + <li>visit to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Doucet, M. Camille, Sarah Bernhardt’s interview with, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>–77; + <ul> + <li>his kindnesses to her, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>–93, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>–23, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Doutre, Mr. Jos., <a href='#Page_389'>389</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Drouet, Mme., <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>–81</li> + <li class='c027'>Dubourg, Léonie, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Duchesne, Dr., surgeon at the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>–68, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Dudlay, Mlle., <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Dudley, Lady, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Lord, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Duez, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Dumas, Alexandre— + <ul> + <li><cite>Kean</cite> at the Odéon, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>–31;</li> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>–75, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–13;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s anger with, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a>–75</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Dupuis, the Communard, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Duquesnel, Mme., <a href='#Page_134'>134</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Félix— + <ul> + <li>Manager Of the Odéon, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>–24, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>–27, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>–31;</li> + <li>production of <cite>Athalie</cite>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li> + <li>accepts Coppée’s <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–34;</li> + <li>benefit performance for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>–46;</li> + <li>arrangements for the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li> + <li>production of <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>–30;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s treatment of, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>–37, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li> + <li>at the Odéon supper, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>–43;</li> + <li>at Sarah Bernhardt’s farewell reception, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>–48;</li> + <li>arranges the “Twenty-eight Days of Sarah Bernhardt,” <a href='#Page_348'>348</a>–49</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Durieux, Mme., <a href='#Page_182'>182</a>–83</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Victor, “Toto,” the errand boy, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>–83</li> + <li class='c027'>Duse, Eleonora, comments of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a>–30</li> + <li class='c007'>Eaux-Bonnes, Sarah Bernhardt ordered to, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>–55</li> + <li class='c027'>Ecole Chrétienne brothers, collecting the dead from the Châtillon Plateau, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Polytechnique, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Edison, Thomas, receives Sarah Bernhardt at Menlo Park, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>–79</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Mrs., <a href='#Page_377'>377</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Elie, M., deportment class of, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>–79</li> + <li class='c027'>Elsinore, visit of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>–34</li> + <li class='c027'>Emerainville, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Emmanuel, Victor, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Enfer du Plogoff, Sarah Bernhardt’s descent into, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>–264</li> + <li class='c027'>English hospitality, Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a>–4</li> + <li class='c027'>Erie, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Escalier, Félix, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Essler, Jane, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Estebenet, M., <a href='#Page_88'>88</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Eugénie, Empress, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>; + <ul> + <li>sketch of, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>–39</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c007'>Faille, M., <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>–22</li> + <li class='c027'>Fallesen, Baron, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>–45</li> + <li class='c027'>Faure, Mme., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>–15, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Félix, uncle, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>–15, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>; + <ul> + <li>at the family council, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>–55</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Félix, afterwards President, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Favart, Mlle., <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>–5</li> + <li class='c027'>Favre, Jules, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Febvre, Frédéric, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>; + <ul> + <li>as Don Salluste, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li>advice to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Fédora</cite>, by Victorien Sardou, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Félicie, the maid, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a>, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>–65, <a href='#Page_371'>371</a>, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>–16</li> + <li class='c027'>Ferrier, Paul, <cite><span lang="fr">Chez l’Avocat</span></cite> by, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Ferrières, the wood of, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Feuillet, Octave, <cite>Dalila</cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>–54</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Figaro</cite> criticisms <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Finistère, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Flaubert, Gustave, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>; + <ul> + <li>death of, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Fleury, the artist, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— General, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>, <a href='#Page_139'>139</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Flourens, M., <a href='#Page_220'>220</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Folkestone, reception of Sarah Bernhardt in, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>–98</li> + <li class='c027'>Fortin, soldier, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Fould, Henri, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Fournier, Marc, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">François le Champi</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Franco-Prussian War, outbreak and incidents, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>–59</li> + <li class='c027'>Fréchette, Louis, his “A Sarah Bernhardt” <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_389'>389</a>–91; + <ul> + <li>his service to Jeanne Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_391'>391</a>–92</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Fressard, Mme., her boarding school, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>–11</li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_448'>448</span>Fressard, Mlle. Caroline, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>–11</li> + <li class='c027'>Frossard, General, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Froufrou</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>–40, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>–44, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>, <a href='#Page_426'>426</a>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c007'><cite><span lang="fr">Gabrielle</span></cite>, by E. Augier, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gaiety Theatre, London— + <ul> + <li>Agreement with the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s first appearance in <cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>–8;</li> + <li>receipts from the Comédie performances, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>–338</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Gaîté Theatre, the, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gallec, Marie Le, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gambard of Nice buys the group, <cite>After the Tempest</cite>, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>–90</li> + <li class='c027'>Gambetta, M., defence of Paris, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>; + <ul> + <li>sketch of, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a>–19</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Gare St. Lazare, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Gaulois</span></cite>, the, criticisms, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a>, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gautier, Théophile, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Geffroy, M., <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>; + <ul> + <li>as Don Salluste, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Gérard, Mlle. Laurence, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>–21</li> + <li class='c027'>Gerbois, M., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li> + <li class='c027'>German demands on Paris, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>; + <ul> + <li>insolence after the siege, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>–2;</li> + <li>fomentation of the revolutionary spirit in Paris, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Gérôme, portrait of Rachel, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gerson, M., <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gibert, Dr., <a href='#Page_333'>333</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Giffard, M., balloon of, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>–87</li> + <li class='c027'>Girardin, Emile de— + <ul> + <li>Arrangements for the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li> + <li>his friendship for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Gladstone, Mr., <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Godard, Louis, balloon ascent of, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>–87</li> + <li class='c027'>Gonesse, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gordon, Mr. Max, of Boston, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Got, M., of the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>, <a href='#Page_306'>306</a>, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Grand Rapids, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Grand-Champs Convent— + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt taken to, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>–26;</li> + <li>loyalty of, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>–24;</li> + <li>visit of Monseigneur Sibour, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>–34;</li> + <li>return of Sarah Bernhardt to, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Greece, the Queen of, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Grévy, Presidency of, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Griffon, René, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>–90</li> + <li class='c027'><em>Gringoire</em>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Grosos, M., cable message from, <a href='#Page_435'>435</a>; + <ul> + <li>reads address to Sarah Bernhardt at Hâvre, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Guadacelli, chocolate maker, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Guérard, Ernest, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Mme.— + <ul> + <li>At Cauterets, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li> + <li>at the family council, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>–55;</li> + <li>attends the interview with M. Auber, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–60;</li> + <li>notes, &c. kept by, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>;</li> + <li>accompanies Sarah Bernhardt to the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>–72, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>–84, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li> + <li>visit to M. Doucet, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>;</li> + <li>notes of, to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li> + <li>visit to M. Thierry, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a>–93;</li> + <li>accompanies Sarah Bernhardt to the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>;</li> + <li>aids the preparations for the Spanish trip, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>–12;</li> + <li>telegram sent to Spain by, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>;</li> + <li>visit to the Rue Duphot, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–19;</li> + <li>accompanies Sarah Bernhardt to the Odéon, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>;</li> + <li>to the Tuileries, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–39;</li> + <li>return from Eaux-Bonnes, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>;</li> + <li>remains in Paris for the siege, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>;</li> + <li>visit to the Prefect of Police, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>–63;</li> + <li>nurse at the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>–77, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a>, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>;</li> + <li>as secretary, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li> + <li>goes for news of Mme. Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>;</li> + <li>illness of, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>;</li> + <li>lunch in the new mansion, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>;</li> + <li>portrait of, by Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li> + <li>her terror of the animals, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a>;</li> + <li>at Hâvre, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>;</li> + <li>journey to America, <a href='#Page_353'>353</a>, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>;</li> + <li>in New York, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>;</li> + <li>in Boston, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>;</li> + <li>the crossing to New Orleans, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>–416;</li> + <li>at Niagara, <a href='#Page_432'>432</a>;</li> + <li><em>otherwise mentioned</em>, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>–92, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— M., <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>; + <ul> + <li>“The Life of St. Louis,” <a href='#Page_51'>51</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Guillaume, attendant, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Guitry, M., <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Gymnase, Théâtre du, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>; + <ul> + <li>engagement of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>–9</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c007'>Haarlem, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Haas, Charles, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>–44</li> + <li class='c027'>Hague, The, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Hamlet’s tomb, Elsinore, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Haraucourt, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Hartford, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Hâvre— + <ul> + <li>Frascati Hotel at, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s benefit performance for the Life Saving Society, <a href='#Page_435'>435</a>;</li> + <li>her welcome home at, <a href='#Page_438'>438</a>–40</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Hayné, Captain, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Henry V. of France, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>–24</li> + <li class='c027'>Herisson, M., mayor of Paris, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Hernani</cite>, by Victor Hugo, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>–82, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Herz, Henri, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Her Majesty’s Theatre, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Hocquigny, Mlle.— + <ul> + <li>Help sent to the Odéon ambulance by, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>;</li> + <li>lunch at Sarah Bernhardt’s, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>;</li> + <li>bust of, by Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Holland, Queen of, present at Sarah Bernhardt’s performance of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>–39</li> + <li class='c027'>Hollingshead, John, of the Gaiety, London, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–10, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Holmes, Augusta, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Homburg, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>–15</li> + <li class='c027'>Hôtel d’Angleterre, Buffalo, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— du Nord, Cologne, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>–13</li> + <li class='c027'>—— de la Puerta del Sol, Madrid, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Vendome, Boston, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Windsor, Montreal, <a href='#Page_391'>391</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Hudson river, the, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a></li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_449'>449</span>Hugo, Victor— + <ul> + <li>Clamour for his return, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>–131;</li> + <li>the reading of <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>–30;</li> + <li>sketch of, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>–29;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s estimation of, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>–33, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>;</li> + <li>the Odéon supper given by, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>–43;</li> + <li><cite>Hernani</cite>, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>–82;</li> + <li>note and present to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Hyde Park, Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Ibé, hairdresser, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“Ignotus,” paragraph in the <cite>Figaro</cite> <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Il faut qu’une porte soit ouverte ou fermée</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Il ne faut jurer de rien</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Imperial, the Prince, baptism, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>; + <ul> + <li>present during rehearsal of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>;</li> + <li>al Saarbruck, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Indianapolis, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Iphigénie</cite>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>–101</li> + <li class='c027'>Iroquois, visit of Sarah Bernhardt to the, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>–94</li> + <li class='c027'>Irving, Henry, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a>, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Ivry, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Jadin, M., <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Jarrett, Mr.— + <ul> + <li>Arranges with Sarah Bernhardt for the drawing-room entertainments, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>–94;</li> + <li>his way with reporters, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a>–300, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_426'>426</a>–27;</li> + <li>contract for first American tour, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>–35;</li> + <li>in New York, <a href='#Page_362'>362</a>, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>;</li> + <li>personality, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>–66;</li> + <li>visit to Edison, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>;</li> + <li>action regarding Henry Smith, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a>–87;</li> + <li>in Montreal, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>, <a href='#Page_392'>392</a>–93, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>;</li> + <li>visit to the Iroquois, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>–94;</li> + <li>the American receipts, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>;</li> + <li>his arrangement with the St. Louis jeweller, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>–4;</li> + <li>the attempted train robbery, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a>–8;</li> + <li>the crossing to New Orleans, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>–16;</li> + <li>visit to Niagara, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a>–32;</li> + <li>journey to Chicago, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>–22;</li> + <li>the return from America, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>;</li> + <li>his influence over Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_441'>441</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Jean-Marie</cite>, by André Theuriet, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>–25</li> + <li class='c027'>Johnson, T., London correspondent of the <cite>Figaro</cite>, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Josephine, maid, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Josse, of the Porte St. Martin Théâtre, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>–20</li> + <li class='c027'>Jouassain, M., <a href='#Page_245'>245</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Jouclas, Captain, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a>, <a href='#Page_357'>357</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Joussian, Théodore, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>–91, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>–96</li> + <li class='c027'>Jullien, Mary, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Kalb, M., <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Kalil Bey, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Kapenist, Count, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Kean</cite>, by A. Dumas, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Kératry, Comte de, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>; + <ul> + <li>aid given to Sarah Bernhardt with the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>–65, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Knoedler, M., <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Kremlin, the, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Kronborg, castle of, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li> + <li class='c007'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Amérique</span></cite>, the boat, <a href='#Page_352'>352</a>–60, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Autre</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La Belle Paule</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La Bénédiction</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La bergère d’Ivry</span></cite>, by Thiboust, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La biche au bois</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La Dame aux Camélias</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>, <a href='#Page_419'>419</a>–20, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Ecole des femmes</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Ecole des Viellards</span></cite>, by Delavigne, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Etincelle</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La fausse Agnès</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La Fille de Roland</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>–68</li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La Fille du Cid</span></cite>, by Delavigne, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a></li> + <li class='c027'>La Foncière fire insurance company, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>; + <ul> + <li>claim against Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>La Hêve, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La loterie du mariage</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La maison sans enfants</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">La Princesse Georges</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_426'>426</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>–34, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“La Quenelle,” his invention, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>–97</li> + <li class='c027'>Lacour, Marie de, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lacroix, Eulalie, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Laferrière, Count de, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–36</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Messrs., dresses from, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lafontaine, M., in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>; + <ul> + <li>at the Odéon supper, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Victoria, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lambquin, Mme.— + <ul> + <li>Nurse at the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>;</li> + <li>at the Odéon supper, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>;</li> + <li>death of, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Lapommeraye, criticisms of, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Larcher, Père, gardener at the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_19'>19</a>–21, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Laroche, M., <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Laroque, Mme., <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Larrey, Baron, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>–3, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>; + <ul> + <li>visits to the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>–81</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Absent</span></cite>, by Eugène Manuel, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Affranchi</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Ami Fritz</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Assommoir</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Avare</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Barbier de Seville</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Bâtard</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Demi-Monde</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le demon du jeu</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Dépit amoureux</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Eté de la St. Martin</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Etourdi</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, by A. Dumas, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>–75, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–13, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>–37, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a>, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le fils naturel</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le jeu de l’amour et du hasard</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Juif errant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Luthier de Crémône</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Mariage de Figaro</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Mariage de Victorine</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Marquis de Villemer</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Médecin malgré lui</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Menteur</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_450'>450</span><cite><span lang="fr">Le Misanthrope</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>–39</li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Post-scriptum</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, by Octave Feuillet, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>–54, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Le testament de César</span></cite>, by Girodot, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Léautaud of the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Leavenworth, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lecouvreur, Adrienne, bust in the Française, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Legouvé, M., <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Leighton, Frederic, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lemaître, Jules, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Leopold, Prince, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lepaul, <i><span lang="fr">costumier</span></i>, story of the <cite>Phèdre</cite> costume, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>–36</li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Les Caprices de Marianne</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Les Femmes Savantes</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Les Fourberies de Scapin</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Les Fourchambault</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Les Plaideurs</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Les Précieuses Ridicules</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lesseps, Ferdinand de, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lethurgi, the Abbé, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Leudet, Dr., <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lincoln, President, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lind, Jenny, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“Little Incline,” <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Liverpool, Cross’s Zoo, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>–17</li> + <li class='c027'>Lloyd, Marie— + <ul> + <li>First prize for comedy at the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>;</li> + <li>friendship with Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>–89, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>;</li> + <li>refusal to play in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Loire, the Army of the, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li> + <li class='c027'>London, Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a>–4, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a>–41; + <ul> + <li>capital punishment in, <a href='#Page_410'>410</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Lorne, Marquis of, Governor of Canada, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Louisville, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Lucas, Père, lighthouse keeper, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Luxembourg Gardens, the, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li> + <li class='c007'>MacMahon, Marshal, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Mademoiselle Aïssé</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>–48, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Mademoiselle de la Seiglière</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Madrid, visit of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>; + <ul> + <li>garrotting in, <a href='#Page_410'>410</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Magnus, Baron, his toast of “To France,” <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>–47</li> + <li class='c027'>Manuel, Eugène, <cite><span lang="fr">L’Absent</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Marguerite, servant, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Marie, maid at Neuilly, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>–16</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Sister, of the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_22'>22</a>, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Marienlyst, castle of, Elsinore, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mariquita, dancing of, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Marivaux, <cite><span lang="fr">Le jeu de l’amour et du hasard</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Marquis, chocolate maker, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Marseilles, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Martel, M., in <cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>; + <ul> + <li>poses to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a>–78</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Massin, Léontine, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>–97</li> + <li class='c027'>Massin, M., <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>–97</li> + <li class='c027'>Masson, Cécile, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— M., antiquary, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mathilde, Princess, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Maubant, M., <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>; + <ul> + <li>the man and the actor, <a href='#Page_328'>328</a>–29</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Maunoir, M., <a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mauvoy, Nathalie, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mayer, Frantz, German soldier at the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>–78, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Mr., of the Gaiety, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–10, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mélingue, M., <a href='#Page_231'>231</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Memphis, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mendès, Catulle, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Menesson, Captain, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Menier, M., <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Menlo Park, New York, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>–79</li> + <li class='c027'>Mentone, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a></li> + <li class='c027'><em>Mercadet</em>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mercier, M., <a href='#Page_362'>362</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Merlou, M. Pierre, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Mme. Pierre, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>–10</li> + <li class='c027'>Meunier, Dr., of Tergnier, <a href='#Page_205'>205</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Meurice, Paul— + <ul> + <li>Friend of Victor Hugo, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>;</li> + <li>meeting with Sarah Bernhardt in the Odéon arcade, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>–38;</li> + <li>at the Odéon supper, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Meusnier, Mathieu, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Meydieu, M.— + <ul> + <li>Godfather of Jeanne Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li> + <li>at the family council, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>–55;</li> + <li>notes given to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>–63;</li> + <li>his present to her, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li> + <li>subsequent kindness, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>–10, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Meyer, Arthur, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>–44, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Marcus, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Millais, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Milwaukee, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Mithridate</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mobile, difficulties of playing in, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a>–20</li> + <li class='c027'>Mohère, anniversary ceremony at the Comédie, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Monbel, M. de, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Monod, Dr., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Montalant, Céline, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Montbel, Raymond de, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Montigny, M., manager of the Gymnase Theatre, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>–109, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>–13</li> + <li class='c027'>Montreal— + <ul> + <li>Reception of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>–93;</li> + <li>the Bishop’s sermons against the French artistes, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>–96;</li> + <li>admiration of the students, <a href='#Page_394'>394</a>–95</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Monval, M., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Morning Post</cite>, tribute to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_308'>308</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Morny, Duc de, his advice concerning the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>–52; + <ul> + <li>his interest in career of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Moscow, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Mounet-Sully, M.— + <ul> + <li><cite><span lang="la">Britannicus</span></cite>, in, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>–49;</li> + <li>in <i><span lang="fr">rôle</span></i> of Orestes, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Zaïre</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite><span lang="fr">Rome Vaincue</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite>Hernani</cite>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>–82;</li> + <li>in <cite>Othello</cite>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_451'>451</span>in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li>supports Sarah Bernhardt on her first appearance at the Gaiety, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a>–8;</li> + <li>advice to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>;</li> + <li>comments of Sarah Bernhardt on, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Multon, Miss, bust of, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Murray, John, tribute to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Napoleon III., <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a>; + <ul> + <li>commands Sarah Bernhardt to the Tuileries, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–39, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>;</li> + <li>his defeat at Sedan, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>–55;</li> + <li>his treatment by Rochefort, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Prince Jerome, “Plon-Plon,” <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Narrey, Charles, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Nashville, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Nathalie, Mme., the incident with Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>–4; + <ul> + <li>her revenge, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite>National</cite>, the, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Neuilly, visits to, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>–15</li> + <li class='c027'>New Haven, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a></li> + <li class='c027'>New Orleans, the crossing to, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>–16; + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>–18</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>New York— + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>–367;</li> + <li>the reporters, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>–68;</li> + <li>the Custom-House, <a href='#Page_369'>369</a>–73;</li> + <li>Brooklyn Bridge, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>;</li> + <li>the police, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>;</li> + <li>the professional <i><span lang="fr">matinée</span></i> at, and departure from, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>–434</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Newark, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Niagara Falls, <a href='#Page_426'>426</a>; + <ul> + <li>visit of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a>–32</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Nittis the painter, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Noe, Mme. Lily, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Nordenskjold, M., <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Novelli, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li> + <li class='c007'>O’Connor, Captain, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>–24, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Odéon, the— + <ul> + <li>Success of <cite>Athalie</cite>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>–27;</li> + <li>sociability among the actors, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>;</li> + <li>reception of Dumas <i><span lang="fr">père</span></i>, <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>–31;</li> + <li>success of <cite><span lang="fr">Le Passant</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–39;</li> + <li>enthusiasm of the students for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_139'>139</a>;</li> + <li>benefit for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>–46;</li> + <li>welcome to Adelina Patti, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>–46;</li> + <li>the Sarah Bernhardt ambulance, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>–87;</li> + <li>patients of, transferred to the Val-de-Grâce, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li> + <li>reopened after the Treaty of Paris, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s break with the, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>–36;</li> + <li>Victor Hugo’s supper to the artistes, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>–43</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Ohio river, the, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">On ne badine pas avec l’amour</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Opéra, the, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Ophelia, the spring of, Elsinore, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Orange, Prince of, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Othello</cite>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Palais de l’Industrie, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Palmer House, Chicago, the, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Parc Monceau, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Paris— + <ul> + <li>Popular feeling on outbreak of Franco-Prussian War, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>–53;</li> + <li>siege proclaimed, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>–59;</li> + <li>organisation of the defence, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li> + <li>the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>–87;</li> + <li>bombarding of, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a>–87;</li> + <li>effect of the sufferings on the <i><span lang="fr">morale</span></i> of the people, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>–86;</li> + <li>the armistice, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li> + <li>sights after, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>;</li> + <li>the Commune, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>–24;</li> + <li>the peace signed, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>;</li> + <li>Presidents, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a>;</li> + <li>capital punishment in, <a href='#Page_410'>410</a>–13</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Parodi, M., <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>; + <ul> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">Rome Vaincue</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Parrot, M., artist, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c027'>——, Dr., <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–10</li> + <li class='c027'>“Part,” use of the term, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Patti, Adelina, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>–46</li> + <li class='c027'>Pelissier, General, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Père Lachaise Cemetery, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Perrin, M.— + <ul> + <li>Engagement of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>–36, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>–39, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>;</li> + <li>staging of <cite>Dalila</cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>;</li> + <li>fury of, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>–50;</li> + <li>incident of the “moon” in <cite><span lang="fr">Le Sphinx</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>–53;</li> + <li>insists on Sarah Bernhardt playing Zaïre, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>–55;</li> + <li>strained relations with Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>–83, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a>, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li> + <li>staging of <cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>–66;</li> + <li>discussion concerning <cite><span lang="fr">La Fille de Roland</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>–68;</li> + <li>his tricks in <cite><span lang="fr">L’Etrangère</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>–75;</li> + <li>anger at the balloon ascent, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a>;</li> + <li>the agreement with John Hollingshead, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>;</li> + <li>attitude regarding the drawing-room entertainments, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>–95;</li> + <li>letter to Sarah Bernhardt from Paris, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>;</li> + <li>his lecture on her return, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>–27;</li> + <li>production of <cite><span lang="fr">L’Aventurière</span></cite> and resignation of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>–34;</li> + <li>influences Coquelin to leave London, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Petit, Mlle. Dica, at the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a></li> + <li class='c027'>——, Mme., visit to M. Massin, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>–97</li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>–66, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>–8, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Philadelphia, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'><em>Philiberte</em>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Picard, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Pierson, Blanche, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Pisa, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Pittsburg, Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>–23</li> + <li class='c027'>Place de la Roquette, executions in, <a href='#Page_410'>410</a>–13</li> + <li class='c027'>Pluche, Amélie, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Poissy, prisoners of, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Polhes, General, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Pons, M., <a href='#Page_79'>79</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Pont, l’Abbé, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Porel, M. Paul, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>; + <ul> + <li>at the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>;</li> + <li>in <cite>Jean-Marie</cite>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>–225</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Porte Saint Martin Theatre, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>–22</li> + <li class='c027'>Potin, Félix, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Potter-Palmer, Mr., <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Providence, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_452'>452</span>Provost, M.— + <ul> + <li>The Conservatoire examination, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>–69;</li> + <li>instruction of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>;</li> + <li>his style of teaching, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li> + <li>visit to the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>–99</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Prudhon, artiste, <a href='#Page_319'>319</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Public buildings, Sarah Bernhardt’s opinion of seeing, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Puget, Louise, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Quand-même, Sarah Bernhardt’s motto, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Quimperlé, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Quincy, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Rachel, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>; + <ul> + <li>Gérôme’s portrait, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Racine, <cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>–66</li> + <li class='c027'>Raz, Pointe du, ascent of, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>–60; + <ul> + <li>“Sarah Bernhardt’s Arm-chair,” <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Régis, M.— + <ul> + <li>Godfather of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li> + <li>the family council, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>–55;</li> + <li>interest in welfare of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>–59, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>–63, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>;</li> + <li>arranges the marriage proposal, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>–74;</li> + <li>obtains the engagement at the Gymnase for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>–8;</li> + <li>his relations with Mme. Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>–17</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Régnier, M. Prof.— + <ul> + <li>Offers <cite><span lang="fr">Germaine</span></cite> to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>–77;</li> + <li>his class at the Conservatoire, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>–80;</li> + <li>helps Sarah Bernhardt to work up <cite>Phèdre</cite>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>–66</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Réjane, Mme., <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rémusat, Paul de, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>; + <ul> + <li>sketch of, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>;</li> + <li>letter to Sarah Bernhardt <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Renaissance Theatre, the, <a href='#Page_411'>411</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Richepin, M., <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rigault, Raoul, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>–21</li> + <li class='c027'>Robert Houdin Theatre, the, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Robertson, Forbes, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rochester, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rochefort, M., <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Roger, Marie, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Rome Vaincue</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rossini, M., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>–12, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rostand, Edmond, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rothschild, Baron Alphonse— + <ul> + <li>Gifts to the Odéon ambulance, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>;</li> + <li>pays the German demand on Paris, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt attempts the bust of, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Rotten Row, Sarah Bernhardt’s impressions, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a>–4, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rousseil, Mlle. Roselia, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rudcowitz, Mme., <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Rue Auber flat, the fire at, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>–45</li> + <li class='c027'>—— de la Chaussée d’Antin, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Duphot, the posters of, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>; + <ul> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s flat in, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>–19</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— Notre Dame de Champs, convent of the, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— St. Honoré, posters of, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Taitbout, patients from the Odéon established at, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a></li> + <li class='c027'><em>Ruth and Boaz</em>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>–30, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>–43, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Saarbruck, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Alexis, Mother, of the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Appoline, Mother, of the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Cécile, Sister, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Cloud, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Denis, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Germain-en-Laye, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>–24</li> + <li class='c027'>St. Jeanne, Sister, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Joseph, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a>–21</li> + <li class='c027'>St. Lawrence river, Sarah Bernhardt’s escapade, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>–97</li> + <li class='c027'>St. Louis, Sarah Bernhardt’s visit to the grotto, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>–3; + <ul> + <li>the jewellery exhibition and the attempted train robbery, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>–8</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>St. Quentin, after the battle, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>–11</li> + <li class='c027'>St. Sophie, Mother, of the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>; + <ul> + <li>her influence over Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>–25, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>–37;</li> + <li>visit of Mgr. Sibour, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>;</li> + <li>incident of the shako, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>–45</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>St. Sulpice, the priest of, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li> + <li class='c027'>St. Thérèse, Mother, <cite>Tobit recovering his Eyesight</cite>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>–34</li> + <li class='c027'>Saint-Privat, battle of, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>–54</li> + <li class='c027'>Saints-Pères Bridge, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Salon of 1876, honourable mention for Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Salvini, M., <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Samson, M., <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Sand, Mme. George, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>; + <ul> + <li>description by Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>–29;</li> + <li><cite><span lang="fr">L’Autre</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Ste. Adresse, Hâvre, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Santelli, Captain, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>, <a href='#Page_437'>437</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“Sara-dotards,” the, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a></li> + <li class='c027'>“Sarah Bernhardt’s Arm-chair” at the Pointe du Raz, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Sarcey, Francisque, articles on Sarah Bernhardt <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>–101, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>–40</li> + <li class='c027'>Sardou, Victorien— + <ul> + <li>Relates the Montigny incident, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>–13;</li> + <li>engagement of Sarah Bernhardt for his play at the Vaudeville, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a>;</li> + <li>reading of <cite>Fédora</cite>, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Sarony, Adèle, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Sassoon, Alfred, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Satory barracks, the, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>; + <ul> + <li>incident of the shako, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>–45</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>—— woods, the, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Scribe, M., <cite>Adrienne Lecouvreur</cite>, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Sedan, battle of, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>–55</li> + <li class='c027'>Séraphine, Sister, of the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>–28</li> + <li class='c027'>Severin, Bassompierre, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Seylor, Suzanne, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Sibour, Monseigneur, visit to the Grand-Champs Convent, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>–34; + <ul> + <li>death of, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Smith, Henry, of Boston— + <ul> + <li>Story of the whale, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>–87;</li> + <li>in Chicago, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>;</li> + <li>present to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>–35</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_453'>453</span>Snowstorm at sea, Sarah Bernhardt’s description, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a>–55</li> + <li class='c027'>Sociétaires of the Comédie Française, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Sohège, M., <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>–44</li> + <li class='c027'>Sologne, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Soubise, Mlle., <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>; + <ul> + <li>the journey through the German lines, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a>–216</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Spa, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Spain, visit of Sarah Bernhardt to, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>–15</li> + <li class='c027'>Springfield, Illinois, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li> + <li class='c027'>—— Massachusetts, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>–99</li> + <li class='c027'>Stage fright, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>–6</li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Standard</cite>, the, tribute to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Stevens, Alfred, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Syracuse, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Talbot, M., <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Talien, M., in <cite>Ruy Blas</cite>, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>–30; + <ul> + <li>at the Odéon supper, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>–42</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Tartufe</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Tergnier, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>–5</li> + <li class='c027'>Théâtre de la Monnaie, Brussels, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Theatre Royal, Copenhagen, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>–47</li> + <li class='c027'>Thénard, Mlle., <a href='#Page_306'>306</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Theuriet, André, <cite>Jean-Marie</cite>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>–25</li> + <li class='c027'>Thiboust, Lambert, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>–21</li> + <li class='c027'>Thierry, M., director of the Française, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>; + <ul> + <li>attitude concerning affair of Mme. Nathalie, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>–5</li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Thiers, M.— + <ul> + <li>Grants passport to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>;</li> + <li>politics of, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>;</li> + <li>Presidency of, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'><cite>Times</cite>, the, paragraph from, <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Tissandier, M., <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>–84</li> + <li class='c027'>Titine, child friend, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Toronto, <a href='#Page_427'>427</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Train, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Triel, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Trochu, M., defence of Paris, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Troy, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Tuileries, Sarah Bernhardt commanded to the, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>–39; + <ul> + <li>her second visit, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Turquet, M., <a href='#Page_288'>288</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Ulgade, Mme., in <cite><span lang="fr">La biche au bois</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>–20</li> + <li class='c027'><cite><span lang="fr">Un mari qui lance sa femme</span></cite>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Utica, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Vachère, descent of the “Dona Sol” at, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Vacquerie, Auguste, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Vaillant, execution of, <a href='#Page_411'>411</a>–13</li> + <li class='c027'>Val-de-Grâce military hospital, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>; + <ul> + <li>the Odéon patients transferred to, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Vallès, Jules, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Variétés, the, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Vaudeville, the, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>–77, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Verger, murderer, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Versailles, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Victor, Paul de St., at the Odéon supper, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>–41; + <ul> + <li>adverse criticism of Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c027'>Villa Montmorency at Auteuil, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Villaret, M., <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Vintras, Dr., <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>–10</li> + <li class='c027'>Vitu, Auguste, <cite>Figaro</cite> articles of, <em>quoted</em>, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>–39</li> + <li class='c007'>Wagner, Sarah Bernhardt’s opinion of, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Wales, Prince of, visit to the Piccadilly exhibition, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a>–14</li> + <li class='c027'>—— Princess of, at the Theatre Royal, Copenhagen, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>–44</li> + <li class='c027'>Walewski, M. de, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Walt, Robert, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Washington, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Weiss, J. J., <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Wilde, Oscar, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Winterhalter, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Wirbyn, Albert, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Wolff, Albert, of the <cite>Figaro</cite>, Sarah Bernhardt’s letter to, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>–22</li> + <li class='c027'>Worcester, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Worms, M.— + <ul> + <li>Charles Quint in <cite>Hernani</cite>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li> + <li>campaign against Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>;</li> + <li>advice to Sarah Bernhardt, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>;</li> + <li>Sarah Bernhardt’s comment on, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li> + </ul> + </li> + <li class='c007'>Yvon, the artist, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li> + <li class='c007'>Zaïre, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>–56, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Zelern, Baron van, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Zerbinette, the tortoise, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li> + <li class='c027'>Zola, M., <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li> +</ul> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c007'> + <div><span class='small'>Printed by <span class='sc'>Ballantyne & Co. 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