Except that those seven fearful years left their inevitable traces upon
her appearance and mind, Sarah’s imprudent marriage had wonderfully
little effect upon her after life.
Moreover, she never renounced the name of Damala, which remained her
legal name until she died, though few people knew it.
During the war the fact that she was legally a Greek caused her much
annoyance, and once when there was a danger that King Constantine might
throw his country into the war on the side of the Germans, she saw
herself actually refused a visa to her passport by an officious nobody
in a consular office at Bordeaux.
“But I am Sarah Bernhardt, sir!” she exclaimed.
“My orders are not to grant visas to Greeks,” said the official
stolidly. “This passport is a Greek one and I will not endorse it.”
It required a special telegram from the Minister of the Interior
himself before the obstinate clerk could be persuaded to change his
mind.
Sarah wore mourning for Damala for a year, but his death did not put a
stop to her theatrical activities. If anything, she cast herself into
her work with more eagerness than ever.
The seven years of her marriage with Damala had been distinguished
by Sarah’s first essay in theatrical management. Towards the end of
1882 she acquired the lesseeship of the Ambigu Theatre--the play-house
where, fifteen years earlier, she had been refused a part by Chilly.
It was announced that her son, Maurice Bernhardt, was to be manager.
It is doubtful whether Maurice ever did any active management. He had
little aptitude for such work, and Sarah was the supervising genius
both at the Ambigu and the other theatres which she subsequently
acquired.
It was at the Ambigu that Sarah launched Jean Richepin. She mounted his
play _La Glu_, which obtained an enormous success. She also played _Les
Mères Ennemies_, by Catulle Mendès.
Exactly on what occasion Sarah Bernhardt and Jean Richepin were
brought together I cannot say. I think they had known each other for a
considerable period before their real association began. Sarah was much
attracted to Richepin, who had a temperament very similar to hers by
all accounts.
Richepin’s life had been almost as fantastically varied and adventurous
as Sarah’s own. He had been born of rich and influential parents, and
educated at the Paris Normal School, an institution of considerable
importance.
He gave many evidences of precocity during his schooldays, and,
after graduating, scandalised his former teachers and schoolmates by
impertinently opening up a fried-potato stand just outside the school
gates. It was a way of expressing his individuality and his scorn of
pedantries.
After that he became a vagabond, journeying through the provinces of
France on foot, sometimes begging his bread and sometimes working at
odd trades for it.
[Illustration: Sarah Bernhardt in her Studio Dress.]
Of an extreme suppleness of body and delighting in acrobatics, he
finally obtained a job in a travelling circus, where he was destined
to meet the woman whom he afterwards made his first wife.
From then on he became an actor, unattached to any particular theatre
at first, but gradually taking parts of increasing importance until he
wrote _Nana Sahib_, in which he played with Sarah Bernhardt. This play
laid the real foundations of a fortune and celebrity which to-day are
both considerable.
While they were playing together in _Nana Sahib_, Sarah’s great rival
on the stage was Marie Colombier, the friend of the author Bonnetain.
The whole city was divided into two camps, the Bernhardt camp and the
Colombier camp, and there was tremendous venom displayed on both sides.
Performances at the theatre in which Marie Colombier was playing would
be enlivened by bands of “Saradoteurs,” who, taking possession of the
galleries, would hoot and hiss and whistle until the curtain was rung
down.
The next night there would be, as like as not, a similar scene in
Sarah’s theatre, and often the police would be obliged to interfere to
prevent a battle royal between the opposing factions.
Two-thirds of the contents of Sarah’s letter-bag consisted of flowers
and presents; the other third of insulting anonymous letters.
A score of times Richepin offered to challenge Bonnetain to a duel on
Sarah’s behalf, but was dissuaded from doing so.
Finally Bonnetain wrote a book about Sarah, which was signed by Marie
Colombier and entitled “Sarah Barnum.” Barnum and Bailey’s Circus was
then the greatest attraction of Europe.
None of the names in the book were real, of course, but they were
so cleverly disguised that everyone in Paris knew for whom they were
intended, though any proof might be impossible.
Sarah had no remedy in the courts, so she took her revenge in another
way. She and Jean Richepin--at least, the way in which the book was
written certainly greatly resembled Richepin’s well-known style--wrote
and published a volume in reply which was entitled “Marie Pigeonnier,”
and in which exactly the same tactics were followed.
The two books convulsed Paris and the several editions were
quickly exhausted. Sarah’s friends bought up “Sarah Barnum,” and
Marie Colombier’s friends purchased all they could find of “Marie
Pigeonnier.” Sarah herself spent 10,000 francs in buying up every copy
of the “Sarah Barnum” book she could lay hands on.
A few copies escaped, however, and these can be found in certain Paris
libraries to-day.
They were really very clever books, beautifully written and full of
very effective satire.
Marie Colombier, in “Sarah Barnum,” accused Sarah of drinking too much
whisky, and Sarah Bernhardt retorted by asserting that Marie Pigeonnier
delighted in absinthe. It was an amusing although scarcely polite
controversy!
Jean Richepin is now one of the great and respected men of France. His
romantic youth is almost forgotten in the eminent respectability of his
age. He is probably France’s most prolific classic author, and though
he quarrelled bitterly with Sarah Bernhardt, his warm regard for her
persisted until her death.
Richepin is one of the most distinguished living members of the
_Academie Française_ and of the _Institut de France_. He is credited
with having obtained for Sarah Bernhardt the Legion of Honour, after a
long discussion as to whether an actress could be awarded a distinction
which had hitherto been reserved for men.
Sarah soon abandoned the Ambigu to play at the Vaudeville in _Féodora_,
a play by Victorien Sardou. This had been arranged before Sarah left
for America. Raymond Deslandes, director of the Vaudeville, paid her
1,500 francs--sixty pounds--per performance.
Later on, when Sarah took over the management of the Porte St. Martin,
she made Duquesnel director, and Sardou and Duquesnel wished her to
launch _Théodora_, another play by Sardou. Pierre Berton was against
the innovation, and urged that _Féodora_ should again be played. Sarah
and Berton were now at daggers drawn.
“My compliments” (wrote Sardou to my husband at this time). “You
are right about _Féodora_--that is better than a new piece, which I
know will be a failure.
“But why do you wish Sarah to play _Féodora_ where Garnier has no
part? It is Sarah, which is to say Garnier, who leads everything
to-day in this lunatic asylum of which Duquesnel thinks he is the
director but of which he is only a _pensionnaire_.”
This is an interesting revelation of Sarah’s renewed friendship for
Garnier, whose place Damala had usurped a few years previously.
Sardou’s letters to my husband, never before published, throw a light
on the dealings of the great actress with her dramatists.
Here is one showing Sarah’s distaste for Berton’s persistent advice:
“MON CHER AMI,
“Je reçois une lettre de Sarah, _fulminante contre vous_, et
qui n’a aucune raison d’être. Je ne sais pas ce qu’elle s’est
figuré et j’insiste sur le mot.--Car je me suis borné à dire à
Grau que je vous avais vu, et que vous m’aviez dit qu’elle allait
jouer _La Dame_ (_La Dame aux Camélias_) décidément, et que vous
jouiez Gaston--rien de plus! C’est ce que j’écris à Sarah, en lui
déclarant que sa colère est insensée en ce qui vous concerne.
“En même temps je lui dis ce que je pense de la Dame dans ces
conditions, et de Duquesnel, qui la _force_ à la jouer et qui ne
voit pas qu’en cela il nuit à tout le monde, à Sarah, à moi, à
_Dumas_,!! et à lui-même.”
After this Sardou had a long and stormy interview with Sarah, urging
her to play _Théodora_ instead of _La Dame aux Camélias_, on which she
and Duquesnel had decided. It ended in the great dramatist’s defeat,
and while his anger was still hot he sat down and wrote to Berton:
“MON CHER AMI,
“Il n’y a rien à faire avec cette folle qui tue la poule aux œufs
d’or. Je connais ses projects--une Maria Padilla de Meilhac!!!
Maria Padilla!! Et de Meilhac! Et une pièce de Dumas! Elle n’aura
ni l’une ni l’autre, et compte alors se rattraper sur _Froufrou_.
Elle va jouer _Froufrou_ alors de septembre en mars!
“Elle est folle, et plus on veut la tirer de l’affaire plus elle
s’enfonce. Quant à moi j’en suis saoul et ne veux plus entendre
parler d’elle. Si vous avez quelque chose d’utile à me dire,
venez me voir Dimanche vers quatre heures, car je suis pris tous
les autres jours. Demain je vous aurais bien indiqué une heure à
Paris, mais je n’aurai pas un moment à moi, et samedi j’ai conseil
municipal.
“Poignée de main,
“V. SARDOU.”
I give these letters in the original French, partly because they would
lose greatly in translation, and partly because they have never before
been seen in print, and are therefore an interesting contribution to
the intimate story of Sarah Bernhardt’s life.
Some phrases in the above are worth noting: “Nothing to be done with
this idiot who is killing the goose that lays the golden eggs”; “She is
crazy, and the more one tries to save her the deeper in she sinks”; “As
to me, I am drunk of the whole affair and don’t wish to hear her name
again!”
Previous to the production of _Théodora_ Sardou wrote to Berton:
“MON CHER AMI,
“Il faudrait plusieurs pages comme celle-ci pour vous mettre au
courant des négotiations relatives à Théodora et au mouvement
tournant opéré par Sarah. Là encore une fois Duquesnel à recueilli
le fruit de son irrésolution. Il fallait signer avec Grau le
lendemain du jour où il m’avait dit que c’était chose faite. Mais
vous connaissez l’homme. Pour ce que vous concerne ça a été
plus simple. Sarah m’a déclaré qui si vous deviez jouer Andréas,
elle ne jouerait pas Théodora en tournée, et comme il avait déjà
fortement question d’y renoncer, vu la certitude de ne pas la jouer
en Belgique et en Russie, la dépense du matériel à transporter
etc., etc., la menace ne laissait pas d’avoir un côté sérieux. Cela
pouvait se traduire pour moi par une perte d’une vingtaine de mille
francs; j’ai du capituler, en exigeant toutefois que si vous jouez
Justinien, le tableau du iv acte, qui est à lui, fût maintenu,
_condition formelle_.
“Il est bien entendu avec Bertrand qu’il vous engage pour l’Eden,
et nous avons, _in petto_, prevu le cas Andréas. Faites-vous payer.
C’est bien le moins qu’on vous dédommage des sottes humiliations
que vous infligent les caprices de cœur de la grande artiste.
J’espère que le vent tournera, dans le cours de ces neuf mois, et
que nous verrons une fois encore Damala renvoyé à l’office. De
toute façon, ne vous brouillez ni avec elle, ni avec Bertrand, en
vue l’avenir. Mille bonnes amitiés
“V. SARDOU.”
The interesting thing about the above letter is, of course, the proof
that Sarah, during her disagreements with Damala, went back to Berton,
with whom she subsequently quarrelled after her reconciliation with
Damala.
The phrases which stand out are: “Sarah declares that if you play
Andréas she will refuse to play Théodora on tour ... which will mean
a loss to me of 20,000 francs.... I was thus obliged to consent”;
“Make her pay you. It is the least return they can make for the low
humiliations which the caprices of heart of the great artiste inflict
on you.” “By all means, do not break with Sarah or with Bertrand,
because of the future.”
There came a day, however, after he had married me, when Pierre Berton
could no longer stand these humiliations heaped on him by Sarah. He
retired definitely from the stage to devote himself to dramatisation,
his most successful play being _Zaza_, which was an enormous success
both in England and America.