and endeavoured to begin the first scene of _Le Joueur_, but was
interrupted, hooted, and hissed by the audience, who cried in a kind of
frenzy: '_Calais!_' Several persons in the pit, who were aware that it
was through the intrigues and machinations of Mlle. Clairon that the
players had so signally failed the public, shouted: '_Calais, et Clairon
en prison! Frétillon à l'hôpital![198] Frétillon aux cabanons!_'
"No doubt the majority of those who uttered these blasphemies were
partisans of the Dubois, who had been posted by her and her father in
the pit. This pandemonium, which might have become a scene of bloodshed,
if the Guards on duty had chosen to interfere, lasted until seven
o'clock, when the audience had their money returned to them."[199]
The following morning, there was a consultation between Sartines, the
Lieutenant of Police, and the Gentlemen of the Chamber, when it was
decided to make an example of Mlle. Clairon and the other recalcitrant
players. The actress, who happened to be unwell, was in bed, and her
friend Madame de Sauvigny, wife of the Intendant of Paris, was nursing
her, when an inspector of police arrived and intimated that he had an
order from the King to conduct Mlle. Clairon to For l'Évêque. Madame de
Sauvigny protested against the arrest of her "best friend," but the
_exempt_ was inexorable, and Mlle. Clairon informed him that she would
submit to the orders of the King. "All that I have," cried she, in her
best stage manner, "is at his Majesty's disposal--my property, my
person, and my life are in his hands. But my honour is untouched, and of
that not even the King can deprive me."
The man of law bethought him of an old legal maxim. "Very true,
Mademoiselle," he replied, "for where there is nothing, the King loses
his rights."
Madame de Sauvigny insisted that Mlle. Clairon should proceed to For
l'Évêque in her own carriage and announced her intention of accompanying
her. But, as the carriage in question happened to be a _vis-à-vis_, and
the _exempt_ refused to lose sight of his prisoner, the noble lady was
constrained to seat her friend upon her knees, and in this singular
fashion they traversed the streets of Paris.[200]
At For l'Évêque, the famous actress was treated more like a
distinguished guest than a prisoner. The most comfortable room available
was allotted her, and furnished in luxurious fashion by her sympathising
friends, the Duchesses de Duras and de Villeroi and Madame de Sauvigny;
the courtyard of the fortress was crowded every day by the carriages of
those who came to offer her their sympathy, and she was permitted to
give delightful little supper parties. In less than a week, a
complaisant physician having certified that further detention would be
prejudicial to the lady's health, she was permitted to return home,
under certain conditions, which she alludes to in a letter to Garrick,
in answer to one of sympathy from the English actor:--
* * * * *
"PARIS, _May 9, 1765._
"My soul, penetrated by a treatment as barbarous as it is unjust, had
need, my dear friend, of the pleasure that your letter has brought to
it. This letter has interrupted for some moments the indignation and
grief which consume me. Never has my health occasioned me so much
anxiety, never have the mischances to which I am subjected been so
multiplied, so violent. But be tranquil; my courage is superior to all
my misfortunes.
"Will you credit it? my comrades are still in prison! I myself was
released the fifth day, but have been placed under arrest at my house,
and prohibited from receiving more than six specified persons. It is
said that Dubois has tendered his resignation; it is to be hoped that it
will be accepted, and that we shall be at liberty this evening or
to-morrow; it is time we were! As they have refused to permit any of my
comrades to come and see me, I am in ignorance of what they think and
what they intend to do.
"I am resolved not to give them any advice, but to occupy myself only
with my own position, and, above all, with the esteem of honest people;
I dare to be confident that I shall obtain that. I shall not share with
you my reflections on the past, the present, and the future; not that I
fear to submit them to your intelligence and your friendship, but
because my letter might be opened, and they might misinterpret me; and I
do not wish to afford them any pretext for persecution. Embrace Madame
Garrick for me, and rest assured both of you that I love, esteem, and
regret you as much as possible, and as you have the right to expect from
the most sensitive and grateful of hearts.
"CLAIRON."[201]
* * * * *
After about three weeks of seclusion, Mlle. Clairon was permitted to
resume her ordinary life, and as Dubois, the cause of all the trouble,
had now resigned, it was anticipated that she would appear again upon
the stage. On the plea of ill-health, however, she declined to return to
the theatre, and, about the middle of June, it was common knowledge that
the actress had requested permission to retire from the stage. The
Maréchal de Richelieu, First Gentleman of the Chamber, refused her
request, asserting that he would never consent to sign her _ordre de
retraite_ during his year of office, but offered to grant her leave of
absence till the following Easter--that is to say, until the end of the
theatrical year, in order that she might have time to go to Geneva and
consult the celebrated doctor, Tronchin.
To Geneva she accordingly went, and obtained the advice she came to
seek; Tronchin, who, great man though he was, was not above humouring
the whims of his distinguished patients, assuring her that he would not
answer for the consequences if she returned to the stage.
From Geneva she proceeded to Ferney, in response to a pressing
invitation from its master, who assured her that it was "a temple where
incense was burning for her," and that "to see and hear her would be his
Fountain of Youth."
When she reached Ferney, Voltaire was ill, but no sooner had she
declaimed her part in his _Orphelin de la Chine_, than he professed
himself completely cured. During her stay, she performed several times
in the little theatre of the château, playing Aménaïde in _Tancrède_ and
Électre in _Oreste_, and the delighted poet wrote to d'Argental that in
the latter character "she had shaken the Alps and Mont Jura"; while, in
a letter to Monnet, he declared that she had "made him feel twenty
years younger."[202]
On leaving Ferney Mlle. Clairon went to Provence, to visit the Comte de
Valbelle. While there, she attended the theatre at Marseilles, and, on
being recognised, was loudly cheered by the occupants of the pit, who
cried: "_Le Siège de Calais et Mlle. Clairon!_" and refused to desist
until the governor of the province, the Duc de Villars, had promised to
do all he could to persuade the actress to gratify them.
At the beginning of November, she was again in Paris, where great
pressure was brought to bear upon her to induce her to reconsider her
determination to retire from the stage. On one condition only would she
consent to forget the horrors of For l'Évêque, namely, that the
Comédie-Française should be erected into a Royal Academy of the Drama,
which would have the effect of giving a legal status to its members, and
would pave the way for the removal of the ecclesiastical ban. A petition
was accordingly drawn up, which had the support of the Duc de Duras, the
Duc d'Aumont, and several other important personages, and submitted to
the King. But, owing apparently to the maladroit way in which the Duc
de Duras, who had charge of the memoir, presented his case, it was
refused; and, at the following Easter, Mlle. Clairon demanded her
_congé_, which was accorded her. Here is the _ordre de retraite_:--
* * * * *
"We, Maréchal Duc de Richelieu, _pair de France_, First Gentleman of the
King's Chamber;
"We, Duc de Duras, _pair de France_, First Gentleman of the King's
Chamber;
"Mlle. Clairon, after having served the King and the public for
twenty-two years with the greatest assiduity and the greatest attention,
finding herself compelled, on account of her health, to quit the
theatre, we have accorded her leave to retire, with the pension in
conformity with the regulations.
"(Signed)
"THE MARÉCHAL DUC DE RICHELIEU.
"THE DUC DE DURAS.[203]
"_Executed at Paris, April 23, 1766._"
* * * * *
For some years after her retirement from the stage Mlle. Clairon resided
in a house near the Pont-Royal, where Marmontel speaks of her receptions
as "numerous and brilliant." She frequently consented to recite some of
her famous rôles at the houses of her aristocratic friends, and Horace
Walpole writes, under date August 23, 1767: "Arrived in Paris at a
quarter before seven; at eight to Madame du Deffand's; found the
Clairon acting Agrippine and Phèdre; not tall, but I like her acting
better than I expected. Supped with her and the Duchesses de Villeroi
and d'Aiguillon."
Although she never again appeared on the boards of the
Comédie-Française, the great _tragédienne_ performed on several
occasions in private theatres. On February 19, 1767, she played Zelmire
in De Belloy's tragedy of that name, at the Hôtel d'Esclapon, Rue de
Vaugirard, at a performance arranged for the benefit of Molé.[204]
Again, in December 1768, she appeared as Dido and Roxane in _Bajazet_,
at the little theatre belonging to the Duchesse de Villeroi, before the
King of Denmark and the Prince of Saxe-Gotha. Grimm writes:--
"The Duchesse de Villeroi has reserved to herself the right of doing the
honours to Mlle. Clairon in her little theatre. This celebrated actress
played there twice, in the presence of the King of Denmark, the
Hereditary Prince of Saxe-Gotha, and a little chosen company, for the
theatre can only accommodate a hundred and ten persons. The first time,
she played the part of Dido, and the second, that of Roxane, in the
tragedy of _Bajazet_. After the play, she was presented by Madame de
Villeroi to her august spectator, who drew a ring from his finger and
placed it on the finger of the actress; but I know that, in spite of
this royal courtesy, he had not the happiness to succeed with the
illustrious Clairon. In her quality of Dido, she will not have found him
tender enough; in her quality of Roxane, she will not have found him
sufficiently humble; in her quality of Clairon, she will not have found
him sufficiently penetrated with admiration. In fact, notwithstanding
the infatuation of the Court and the town for the young monarch, he has
had the misfortune to displease the heroine of the Théâtre-Français."[205]
Finally, on the occasion of the fêtes at Versailles, in honour of the
marriage of the Dauphin and Marie Antoinette, in the spring of 1770,
Mlle. Clairon appeared as Athalie and Aménaïde. But five years of
retirement had naturally not been without their effect upon her powers,
and her acting seems to have caused general disappointment. Perhaps her
unfortunate choice of a gown, "half-brown, half-yellow, which gave her
the appearance of a shrivelled-up old woman," had not a little to do
with her comparative failure as Voltaire's heroine.
An impression prevailed at this time that had Louis XV. only
condescended to express a desire that Mlle. Clairon should return to the
Comédie-Française she would have consented to do so. But Louis XV. was
not such an admirer of the lady's acting as Voltaire--indeed, he seems
to have preferred Mlle. Dumesnil--and when, three years before, Mlle.
Clairon had caused him to be informed that she was prepared to play at
Versailles as often as his Majesty might command he had replied, to her
intense chagrin, that he found the other actresses very capable.[206]
On her retirement from the theatre, Mlle. Clairon had opened a kind of
dramatic academy. Here she trained a number of aspirants to histrionic
fame, several of whom were destined to make their mark in years to
come. Among these may be mentioned the beautiful Mlle. Raucourt,
herself, in her turn, the Queen of the Comédie-Française, and that
excellent actor, Larive.
For Larive, the ex-_tragédienne_ appears to have conceived an almost
maternal affection, leaving no stone unturned to ensure his success upon
the stage, and corresponding with him regularly for many years. Her
early letters are chiefly of a professional kind: advice as to the way
in which certain parts are to be played, as to the costumes suitable to
those parts, and so forth. But occasionally we find her descending to
more personal matters, rallying him on his _bonnes fortunes_, and
moralising in the style of an indulgent elder brother.
"You have then made a conquest," she writes, "and of a fine lady, you
say? I am not astonished, since you are a very handsome man. But I
cannot prevent myself from telling you that you are a great imbecile. If
she is a woman who makes a profession of gallantry, or a marriageable
girl, you ought certainly to refuse to have anything to do with her. A
man should avoid the first, for fear of accidents, and never have to
reproach himself with having corrupted the other. But if she be a
married woman or a widow, that is current coin, the property of every
one, and you will be doing wrong not to make use of it. No engagement,
no prejudice, need restrain you. You are a man, young; you are bored.
Guarantee yourself a serious attachment; that is an excellent thing; but
why refuse to your senses, and to the necessity of diverting your mind,
the tribute which both demand?"
In a letter, which, like the above, bears no date, but which was
probably written in the summer of 1772, we find a person mentioned who
was to play a very important part in Mlle. Clairon's future life:--
* * * * *
"You have extended your hospitality to a dog; I have extended mine to a
little boy. Molé sent me an unhappy widow with six children in want of
bread. I have taken charge of one, and am busying myself in finding
means to allow the rest to live. I shall not keep the child at my house;
he is a little devil, and that annoys and wearies me. _But since he
bears a close resemblance to the Margrave_ (of Anspach), whom I am
expecting to see arrive here this autumn, I have taken the child, in the
hope of sending him to Germany. If that plan falls through, I shall put
him to a trade, and pay his apprenticeship to whatever one his mother
may choose."
* * * * *
Christian Frederick Charles Alexander, Margrave of Anspach, Baireuth,
and Brandenburg, Duke of Prussia, Count of Sayn, was the son of
Frederick the Great's sister, Frederika Louise, and that potentate's
favourite nephew. Born in 1736, and married, against his will, by his
father, to a princess of Saxe-Coburg, "who resembled a faded lily which
had begun to grow yellow," he spent the greater part of his time in
travelling in Italy, Holland, and France, and "gratifying his tastes for
the arts and feminine society."
The Margrave was not handsome, in fact, his appearance was distinctly
unprepossessing. He had "a retreating forehead, sunken eyes, a nose like
a trumpet, an enormously long peaked chin, and a long ungainly neck." On
the other hand, he was well-educated, sensible, and good-natured; "the
best prince in Germany," said the Austrian Chancellor, Kaunitz, who was
certainly in a position to judge.
The Margrave fell in love with Mlle. Clairon, who, though nearly old
enough to be his mother, was still pretty; and, on the occasion of one
of his frequent visits to Paris, invited her to return with him to
Anspach and be his Margravine of the left-hand. To the ex-_tragédienne_,
who had so often played the queen upon the stage, the prospect of
occupying a quasi-royal position at this little German court was not
without its attractions; perhaps ere long, she thought, the faded-lily
princess might wither away altogether, in which event the consort of the
left-hand might become the consort of the right. Moreover, her vanity
was naturally flattered by the homage of a man twelve years her junior,
and that man a Serene Highness! And, finally, it happened that she had
just quarrelled violently with the Comte de Valbelle, who, not content
with an occasional infidelity, as had been the case in the early days of
their connection, had become a sort of professional Don Juan, who
"brought daily pretty girls into his park," outraged husbands,
supplanted lovers, and, in short, misconducted himself in so shocking a
manner that, according to his disgusted mistress, "every one detested
him from the bottom of their hearts."
And so it came about that, one fine day in the spring of 1773, Mlle.
Clairon bade farewell to all her friends in Paris, and set out for
Anspach, whence she wrote to the faithless Valbelle that it was her
intention "to consecrate the remainder of her days" to the Margrave.
At Anspach, Mlle. Clairon remained for seventeen years. Our chief source
of information in regard to this period of her career are her own
letters to her old pupil, Larive, with whom she continued to correspond
regularly. In the earliest of these, she can hardly find words to
describe the joys of her new life.
"I am very well," she writes, shortly after her installation, "and
taking into consideration the care, the homage, the comforts, the
kindnesses, and the marks of attachment that are lavished upon me, it
would be impossible for my heart and my vanity not to be satisfied. My
house does not grow less full; the greatest ladies do me the honour of
supping with me. You cannot form any idea of the position I occupy in
this country. I believe that I am in a dream. Sometimes I am tempted to
imagine myself a personage...."
And again, under date October 15, 1773:--
* * * * *
"Would to Heaven, my dear child, that I had you near me! I should then
be able to say that never had I been so happy. Every comfort, no kind of
vexation, consideration, a commodious and beautiful house, a
well-ordered, pleasant, and honourable life independent of the caprices
which formerly troubled me, the impossibility of meeting ungrateful
people, of seeing or hearing anything which recalls them, the
opportunity of doing good--all this renders my life infinitely sweet.
Add to all these blessings the certainty of making the happiness of the
sweetest and kindest being I have ever known. After you had seen him,
you would love him: that is nothing; one cannot form any idea of this
good prince, unless you live with him. I see him every day, and am
equally astonished at his frankness and the noble simplicity that
characterises all his actions. It is for such sovereigns that it is just
and right to sacrifice one's life, and I feel no regret at having
sacrificed mine to him."
* * * * *
But this enthusiasm does not last long, and, before twelve months have
passed, we find Mademoiselle complaining of everything at Anspach, from
the air to the cooking. In one letter she tells her correspondent that
"the air of the country and _ennui_ are killing her"; in another, that
she has had to send for a French cook, because the Anspach cooking
"displeased as much as it disagreed with her";[207] in a third, that she
has had to abandon an attempt to establish a theatre at the Court,
"because there are scarcely a dozen persons there who can carry on a
conversation in French, while the rest do not understand a word of the
language"; and, in a fourth, that "the women of this country are
destitute of every grace to which your eyes are accustomed."
The fact of the matter was that the Court of Anspach did not approve of
the advent of Mlle. Clairon; it feared that her installation would,
sooner or later, be followed by an invasion of her compatriots, who
would seize upon all the most lucrative posts in the State, and
generally upset the established order of things. Neither had the
Ministers been educated to serve under a _maîtresse en titre_, as had
those of France; they resented the interference of a woman--especially
a foreigner--in the counsels of their master, and one of them, if Mlle.
Clairon is to be believed, actually carried his resentment so far as to
conspire against her life. Moreover, although the poor Margravine
herself was compelled, through fear of her husband's anger, to treat her
rival with courtesy, and even to invite her to her table, the other
ladies of the Margrave's family, like the Duchesse of Würtemburg and the
Margravine of Baireuth, absolutely refused to recognise the
ex-_tragédienne_, and the feminine portion of the Court seems to have
taken its cue from them, rather than from its nominal head.
However, in spite of difficulties and mortifications, Mlle. Clairon
remained at her post, and, according to her own account, used the
influence she had acquired over the Margrave in a highly beneficent
manner; destroying abuses, reforming the finances, encouraging
agriculture, and so forth. She also beautified the city of Anspach by an
ornamental fountain, established a hospital, distributed considerable
sums in charity, and was very popular among the poorer classes.
[Illustration: ELIZABETH BERKELEY, COUNTESS OF CRAVEN, AFTERWARDS
MARGRAVINE OF ANSPACH
After the drawing by Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS]
In the course of the year 1789, Mlle. Clairon found herself called up to
face a rival influence. The eccentric and "_infinitamente_
indiscreet,"[208] but charming and accomplished Elizabeth, Countess of
Craven, descended upon Anspach. The countess had separated from her
husband in 1780, since which she had spent the greater part of her time
in wandering about the Continent. In the course of her travels, she had
met the Margrave, whom she had known when she was a child, and who
invited her to Anspach. She came, and her stay was a long one. She
infused new life into that dull German Court; she organised a theatre in
a disused coach-house, and wrote little plays for it; she had a garden
laid out in the English style, under her direction, at the Margrave's
palace of Triesdorf, near Anspach; she founded a little academy for the
encouragement of literature and the arts, and found means to amuse even
the unamusable Margravine. Finally, she stole away the heart of the
Margrave from his grey-haired Egeria, and wrote to her husband, with
whom she still corresponded, that she was to be "treated as a sister."
At length, Lady Craven left for Paris. Soon afterwards, the Margrave
announced his intention of visiting the French capital; Mlle. Clairon
decided to accompany him. In Paris, the Margrave favoured her with so
little of his company that she felt constrained to inquire the reason.
The prince returned an evasive answer; Mlle. Clairon caused a watch to
be kept upon his movements, and discovered the fatal truth. So long as
the Margrave remained in Paris, the deceived sultana, by a great effort
of will, succeeded "in concealing beneath a countenance always calm, and
sometimes laughing, the rending tortures of mind and body." But when the
prince returned to Anspach, she declined to follow him, and sent instead
a long and reproachful letter, wherein she informed him that "his
frenzied passion for a woman of whose character, unfortunately, he alone
was ignorant, his indifference to public opinion, the license of his new
morals, his want of respect for his age and his dignity, obliged her to
see in him only one who had thrown aside all restraint and decency in
compliance with the dictates of a depraved heart, or as one whose
disordered intellect, while it excited pity, evinced also the necessity
of restraint; that the veil was now lifted, and she knew herself never
to have been anything but the hapless victim of his egotism and his
divers caprices; and that, therefore, with infinite pain, she laid at
his feet all the boons she had received from him, and bade him adieu ...
adieu for ever."
And so ended the last romance of Mlle. Clairon, and the only souvenir of
her seventeen years' residence at Anspach is a kind of fancy bread,
which is called "_Clairons Weck_" unto this day.[209]