One could hardly praise the attitude of the French papers between the
declaration of war and the first battles. Their boasting and exultation
over what they were going to do was barely decent, they could talk of
nothing but the victories they were registering beforehand, and, first
and last, the entry into Berlin. The insignificant encounter at
Saarbrücken was termed everywhere the _première victoire!_ The
caricatures in the shop-windows likewise betrayed terrible arrogance.
One was painfully reminded of the behaviour of the French before the
battle of Agincourt in Shakespeare's _Henry V._
It was no matter for surprise that a populace thus excited should
parade through the streets in an evening, shouting _"A Berlin! A
Berlin!"_
National enthusiasm could vent itself in the theatres, in a most
convenient manner, without making any sacrifice. As soon as the
audience had seen the first piece at the Théâtre Français, the public
clamoured for _La Marseillaise_, and brooked no denial. A few minutes
later the lovely Mlle.
Agar came in, in a Greek costume. Two French flags were held over her
head. She then sang, quietly, sublimely, with expression at the same
time restrained and inspiring, the _Marseillaise_. The countless
variations of her voice were in admirable keeping with her animated and
yet sculptural gesticulation, and the effect was thrilling, although
certain passages in the song were hardly suitable to the circumstances
of the moment, for instance, the invocation of Freedom, the prayer to
her to fight for her defenders. When the last verse came, she seized
the flag and knelt down; the audience shouted, "_Debout_!" All rose and
listened standing to the conclusion, which was followed by mad applause.
People seized upon every opportunity of obtruding their patriotism. One
evening _Le lion amoureux_ was given. In the long speech which
concludes the second act, a young Republican describes the army which,
during the Revolution, crossed the frontier for the first time and
utterly destroyed the Prussian armies. The whole theatre foamed like
the sea.