BOOK VIII

CHAPTER I

The political duels

At the beginning of the year 1833 which now opens before us, the eyes

of all France were turned towards the Château de Blaye, in which Madame

la duchesse de Berry had been incarcerated.

On 28 January a question was put to the Government by M. de Dreux-Brézé

in connection with a petition addressed to the Chambre des Pairs, by

several pensioners of the old Civil List, relative to the detention of

the princess. It should be said that, for the most part, with but few

exceptions, the moral feeling of France rose up against that detention

as it has since risen against that of Abd-el-Kader. M. de Dreux-Brézé

had asked leave to speak, and it had been granted. He mounted the

tribune.

"As the Chamber has allowed me to speak," he said, "I

will permit myself to point out to it that the right of

petition laid down by the charter has, for some time past,

become an illusory right in the Assembly. A great number

of petitions relative to the law about the state of siege

have been addressed to the Chamber, but as yet no report

has been brought in upon it. Now I ask you, why has no such

report been drawn up? If it is not done when the Chamber has

decreed a law upon the subject, what becomes of the right of

petition? But there are other petitions of a higher order

which I am amazed not to see brought forward; I mean those

relating to the captivity of an illustrious princess whose

fate is attracting the notice of France and Europe. I cannot

be ignorant of their existence, since they have nearly all

been addressed to me to place before the Chamber; I will,

therefore, seize the opportunity which is offered to me by

the publicity of its debates to testify to the petitioners

my deep gratitude for the confidence with which they have

honoured me. I received a petition this morning relative to

the same object, containing seventeen hundred signatures.

How is it, gentlemen, that, in contempt of the right of

petition, thousands of signatures are allowed to be buried

in portfolios which demand the setting at liberty of Madame

la duchesse de Berry? And under what circumstances? It is

impossible not to feel the liveliest fear for her person

and well-founded alarms in other directions; for, taking

into account the unhealthiness of her place of detention,

her captivity is not merely an arbitrary act, but becomes

an attempt upon her life! I do not propose, gentlemen, to

enter into a discussion here which, at this juncture, would

be irrelevant; but I ask the Chamber to fix at once the day

for a debate on the numerous petitions which plead for the

liberty of Madame la duchesse de Berry."

The Keeper of the Seals next mounted the Tribune, and replied--

"The speaker complains of the place in which the Duchesse

de Berry is detained. Would he allow perpetual civil war in

la Vendée? That is doubtless not his idea, but one might

reasonably interpret his views in that way, when he asks

for the liberty of the Duchesse de Berry, seeing the use to

which she put her liberty."

Next, the Ministre de l'Intérieur added a few words, saying that, even

if the Château de Blaye were an unhealthy dwelling-place, it was a

matter of public knowledge that the town had never been attacked by any

sort of epidemic. He did not, therefore, understand the animosity of

those persons who stated that the place of detention had been chosen

with the intention of undermining the health of the august prisoner.

The incident led to nothing at all. The Chambre des Pairs, after the

Duc de Fitz-James and M. de Chateaubriand's resignation, was nothing

but a kind of record office where the laws of the Chambre des Députés

were registered. Now, it came to pass, in spite of the Keeper of the

Seal's statement and that made by the Ministre de l'Intérieur, that

the health of the Duchesse de Berry soon caused enough uneasiness

for the Government to dispatch MM. Orfila and Auvity to Blaye. Their

departure was announced in a Government newspaper, _Le Nouvelliste,_ I

believe. It confined itself to saying that the two famous practitioners

had to examine into an important question of forensic medicine. The

vague curtness of the statement roused comments on all sides. _Le

Nouvelliste,_ being forced to give an explanation, inserted the

following paragraph:--

"Many newspapers have printed a thousand conjectures as

to the mission of MM. Orfila and Auvity at the Château

de Blaye. That mission contains nothing to justify the

multitude of comments to which it has given rise. _The

condition of Madame la duchesse de Berry presents nothing

to cause disquiet; only, for some time, she has been

sufficiently out of health_ for it to be deemed advisable

to afford her the opportunity of consulting the two men

who are the most deserving of confidence, M. Orfila, doyen

of the medical faculty, and M. Auvity, one of whom is her

ordinary doctor and the other her consulting physician. The

situation of the prison in which Madame la duchesse de Berry

is confined necessitates this natural proceeding, and it

is in that sense we called the mission of the two doctors

_forensic."_

In consequence of this declaration, _Le Corsaire_ surmised that the

Duchesse de Berry's indisposition was that of pregnancy. The following

day, a young Carlist, M. Barbot de la Trésorière, appeared at the

offices of the paper to call the author of the article out in a duel

or, failing the author, the responsible manager, M. Viennot. M. Viennot

replied that he could only accept responsibility for the article in

the event of the author not accepting responsibility. He asked to

be allowed a day before he could return an answer to M. Barbot de

la Trésorière. That gentleman thought the request quite fair, but

manifested a desire that the reply should be very definite, the aim of

the Carlist party being to prevent any shadow of suspicion falling upon

the reputation of the illustrious prisoner. Hardly had the last words

been uttered before one of the editors of the _Corsaire_ came out of

the editorial office. He had heard everything and came up to M. de la

Trésorière.

"Monsieur," he said to him, "I am the author of the article which you

claim to regard as insulting. My name is Eugène Briffault and I am

entirely at your disposition."

The duel acceded to, the rest of the affair was for the seconds to

settle. The seconds had an interview and arranged that the meeting

should take place next day at eight in the morning in the bois de

Boulogne. At the agreed hour, the two adversaries met upon the ground.

Pistols had been the weapons selected. The two adversaries were placed

at a distance of thirty yards from one another: at the third clapping

of hands they were to fire simultaneously. Both fired at the same

instant. M. Briffault's bullet missed; M. Barbot de la Trésorière's

buried itself in M. Briffault's shoulder to such purpose that it could

never be extracted. The wound was serious. M. Briffault was carried to

Étienne Arago's, manager of the Vaudeville. It need hardly be said that

there the injured man was nursed with brotherly devotion. And yet, on

the very same day on which the duel had taken place, _La Quotidienne_

contained the following passage:--

"30 January--MM. Orfila and Auvity have just returned from

Blaye, where they accomplished the mission with which they

were entrusted. What that mission was, the Government does

not say. But we will, because, with Madame, we think that it

is a case where the sacrifice of the most sacred conventions

is demanded by honour itself.

"For about a week past, infamous rumours have been spread abroad

concerning Madame's condition. Respectable people of all parties have

heard them with disgust, and we owe it to truth to declare that the

Liberal opposition has loudly pronounced its indignation. One does not

imagine that those in authority are generally in ignorance of such

shameless insinuations; one presumes that some, at all events, of those

in authority are a party to the calumny; but it would not occur to any

one that they were the first to be themselves the dupes. Base words

were repeated, it is true, and especially by M. Thiers, but one could

not believe in a miracle of stupid malignancy.

"Well, they were deceived; less guilty, if you like, but more inept

than could be imagined; what they said they believed; you understand?

Let us, however, pass rapidly over these shameful matters. We will

restrict ourselves to showing to what excess of blindness certain men

can be led astray when possessed by base passions. Thus, then, the

two learned doctors went to the citadel of Blaye. Behold them in the

presence of Madame! They stammer and try to speak; they speak; but they

had not uttered three words before Madame understood them. Then it

was (we report it from evidence which certainly cannot be questioned)

that, under this ordeal, cruel for any woman, offensive to a woman of

the blood royal, then it was, we say, that Madame rose, armed with

her character, to a sublime effort, above common charges and vulgar

susceptibilities. Calm, without apparent emotion, less agitated,

probably, than the men before her, the princess addressed them

powerfully; she spoke to their conscience, she invoked their sense of

honour, called upon them to fulfil their mission _fully,_ she demanded

that their professional opinion should be pronounced fully, entirely,

unquestionably; she wished that before God and men they should testify

what they knew of the widow of the Duc de Berry, the mother of Henri

V.! The two learned men obeyed Madame's commands; formed their opinion,

found out all that it was necessary they should know and then withdrew,

blushing for shame.

"A first report was rapidly dispatched to the men who had believed....

Hence, a clumsy disavowal, which we have printed with all the mistrust

it is bound to inspire. Authority dare not go further; it has not the

courage to confess what it expected from the two professional men, or

what it learnt from them."

The affair, as one can see, was begun by the Carlist party, both as

an armed struggle and as written polemics, and it was entered into as

boldly as possible. We shall see that it was upheld by the Republican

party with equal ardour.

The report of MM. Auvity and Orfila, in fact, appeared in _Le Moniteur_

of 5 February. It contained no particulars likely to establish opinion

as to the supposed condition of the princess; so the newspapers

continued to give rein to their conjectures. _Le Corsaire,_ especially,

stuck to its announcement of Madame's pregnancy. The upshot of it all

was that a fresh challenge was made to her. _Le Corsaire_ gave its

readers the following information:--

"People have called at our offices to ask the reason for

an article we recently published about the Duchesse de

Berry. We replied that we did not recognise the right of any

individual to call us to account in the name of the Duchesse

de Berry, and we refused all information on the subject. We

added that we were prepared even to accept the ill-will of

the Legitimist party on this head. The word _slanderous_

applied to the rumours spread about the duchess does not

concern us: it belongs to those in high quarters, from

whence the rumours have issued; their origin is now a matter

of public notoriety. The editor of the article has expressly

declared that he maintains that what he has written is

_true._ Time alone can destroy or confirm his opinion. As

for the political attitude of the Carlist party; which we

have represented as thinking far more of conspiring than

of fighting, we will call to mind the actual words of the

prisoner of Blaye. When she saw the lists of those devoted

to her, she exclaimed, 'They offer me their names, but not

their arms!' That exclamation was reported only a month ago

in a widely circulated paper and has not been denied.

"It is not the first but the second time that _Le Corsaire_

has been exposed to such attacks, and one of its editors,

M. Briffault, has even had the misfortune of being wounded

by a so-called Legitimist whose right he had recognised of

taking up the cause on behalf of the prisoner of Blaye. It

is rather singular that the susceptibility of the Carlist

party concerning the princes of the fallen family has only

shown itself since what they call the attempted defeat

by the patriotic party in June. It is true that royalty

boasts of having made the Republicans turn pale; but all

royal personages were not, perhaps, vanquished on that day

along with Louis-Philippe. True, again, many patriots were

dispersed, banished, imprisoned, in consequence of those

June days; but there are enough left outside prison for the

champions of legitimacy to be certain of finding some one to

deal with them at every opportunity; only, in disputing the

honour of killing M. Briffault, they should have waited till

his wound was first cured.

"It is, indeed, extraordinary, if one cannot write a single

word about the Duchesse de Berry without having sword at

hand when replying to everybody interested in making a

heroine of her. Who amused themselves by breaking lances

before the July Revolution, either for or against the virtue

of the Duchesse de Berry? And yet, slanderous rumours,

whether true or untrue, were not wanting then any more than

now. But the duchess is a captive, she is under misfortune!

This ought to make the hearts of her attendant cavaliers

bleed; but, as for us, who remember only too vividly how she

danced at the Tuileries whilst the heads of our friends were

being cut off on the place de Grève, it must be acknowledged

that consideration from our side can only proceed from

motives of pure generosity.

"The Carlist party is taking a very bad way to procure the

kindly feeling of the patriotic press for the prisoner of

Blaye; it should suffice for them to wish to impose silence

on us as to scandalous details, whether they exist or not;

but, when they go on to talk so that we feel obliged to

dwell on gossip, which it is our usual custom to ignore,

certainly we will recognise these gentlemen's right to

testify against us in their devotion to the person of the

Duchesse de Berry in as large numbers as they please;

they will find at our office a long enough list of people

disposed to offer them every occasion for distinguishing

themselves which they may desire. These gentlemen must be

counting much on the approach of a third Restoration for

their devotion to begin to count, to allow themselves to be

flung in prison, to insult the July Revolution by pamphlets,

novels, signed protests, street processions, challenges

addressed to patriotic papers; it would seem that the moment

has arrived for proving the famous Republican-Carlist

alliance. All right, that need not matter! Let the devoted

knights state their numbers; let them but show themselves

and get the question settled. In any case, we shall not go

in search of persons to help us who take half-way views."

Such articles as these were not calculated to pacify political hatreds.

_La Tribune_ took up the cause of _Le Corsaire_ and an ardent polemic

took place between it and _Le Revenant._ The editor of the latter

paper was then M. Albert de Calvimont, now préfet de l'empire. _Le

National,_ in its turn, interfered, and _Le Revenant_ found itself

confronted by three adversaries. M. Albert de Calvimont received a

collective challenge for himself and his friends from _La Tribune._ He

replied for himself personally, but declined to be implicated on the

grounds they wished to impose upon him. At the same time, they replied

to an aggressive article by Armand Carrel by sending him a list of a

dozen persons from whom to select one name. The report soon went about

amongst us that a challenging list asking for twelve opponents had been

sent to Armand Carrel. I rushed off to Carrel; there was a crowd at his

door to inscribe their names, and I wrote down mine as did the others.

I had not seen Carrel for a long time; we were not personally on cool

terms with one another; but _Le National_ attacked the romantic school

bitterly, and our intercourse had become infrequent. I probably owed

the favour of being asked in to see him to the rarity of my visits. He

was breakfasting with the charming lady of whom I have had occasion to

speak, whose life, in the midst of all these riotings and duellings,

was a perpetual torture, disguised beneath a smile of easily detected

sadness, but which was still a smile. As far as I can remember,

Grégoire was at breakfast with them.

"Ah! so it is you!" Carrel said to me; "something very important must

be on the way to bring you."

"What does it matter, dear friend, what circumstances cause my

presence?"

"Have you come to fight?"

"I have come to do what I can ... they told me you had received a list

of twelve Carlists. If you are hard put to find a dozen Republicans,

make use of me; I shall make one, at all events."

"But suppose I am in no such difficulty?..."

"Then, dear friend, excuse me from taking part in this row."

"You are not keen about it."

"I think the cause ridiculous."

"What! ridiculous?"

"Yes, in my opinion, you should wait in silence for official news from

Blaye. The Duchesse de Berry is, first and foremost, a woman; and by

what right do you say of a princess, because she is a princess, what

you would not say of the widow of your grocer?"

"What is one to do?" said Carrel, who felt at heart and from the

chivalrous point of view that I was right in my view of the question.

"I must go through with it."

"Have you sufficient force?"

"Pistols, yes--swordsmen, no...."

"Then you will fight with pistols?"

"No, I shall employ swords."

"Why do you arrange that?"

"It is a matter of sentiment, you see. I have twice fought with swords:

twice I have pinked my enemy: I have only once fought with pistols,

and, although my adversary shot very badly, and the bullet struck the

ground six yards off me, yet it went through the calf of my leg."

"Will you have a few rounds with me?"

"If you do not mind."

"Come then."

We went into a kind of saloon which contained foils and masks, and

we placed ourselves on guard. I shot badly, as I have said--although

Grisier, out of friendliness towards me, had spread my reputation as

a good shot, thus sparing me more than one duel--only, at that time,

having had occasion to do a small service to a good fellow called

Castelli, who was a first-rate swordsman and served as teacher to all

the celebrated masters, he had found no other means of satisfying

himself about me than to come from time to time to give me a lesson.

The result was that without being aware of it (his lessons were so

excellent), I found I was better than I thought myself to be. As

Grisier's pupil, I put myself on the defensive rather than attacked.

Carrel gave me several lunges, which I avoided either by leaping aside

or by parrying them. Carrel was easily carried away by excitement, and

I felt that his exercise showed signs of great excitement.

"Take care," I said to him, "by such action as that on the ground you

run great risk of being stopped short or touched during parry and

thrust."

"True," he said, flinging away his foil; "but I am as fatalistic as a

Mussulman: what will happen has been decreed beforehand."

"Do you think I draw well enough to put down my name?"

"Yes; but I will not put you down."

"Why not?"

"Because, although I have received a list and it has a dozen names on

it, yet, from among that dozen names _Le National_ has only to select

one."

"Well?"

"I choose M. Roux-Laborie."

"Then you are going to fight?"

"Of course!" replied Carrel.

"When?"

"To-morrow."

"It is all settled?"

"Absolutely."

"I presume you have your seconds ready too?"

"Yes."

"Who are they?"

"Grégoire and d'Hervas."

"And you fight with?..."

"Swords. Like you, I am better with the pistol than the sword; but I

confess I have a weakness for swords; with the sword, one defends one's

life; with the pistol, one renounces it."

"So you do not need me?"

"No."

"Not for anything?"

"No thanks."

"Good luck, dear friend!"

Carrel shrugged his shoulders as much as to say: "That will be as God

pleases!"

I went home, where I found two of my friends waiting in readiness

to offer themselves to me in case I was on the list. I told them of

Carrel's decision. He was so absolutely brave that it surprised no one

that he made himself the champion of the Republic, although he was a

strange sort of Republican, and took the duel upon himself.

Meanwhile, that is to say on 1 February 1833, the reply of M. Albert

de Calvimont was taken to _La Tribune_ by MM. Albert Berthier and

Théodore Anne, commissioned to uphold the struggle on personal lines,

the only grounds on which M. Albert de Calvimont would accept. There

was a lengthy debate between the two seconds of M. Albert de Calvimont

and M. Marrast, to whom M. de Calvimont's reply was addressed. M.

Marrast, surrounded by all his friends, urged on by them, wanted a real

battle, wherein the strength of the two parties should be tested.

M. de Calvimont's friends, on their side, could only offer the duel,

all other agreements exposing them to a charge of recantation. In the

middle of the debate, a communication arrived from _Le National_: it

announced the challenge received by Carrel. They conferred together and

decided that no engagement ought to be made before knowing what Carrel

would do. For the time being, therefore, they confined themselves to

showing the communication to M. de Calvimont's two seconds and to

adjourning the discussion until night. By then, Carrel's decision was

known: he had chosen M. Roux-Laborie, junior, not only because he was

a Royalist but, still more, because he was the son of a man who had an

interest in the _Journal des Débats,_ a paper devoted to the Royalist

cause of July. The details of the duel were settled between MM.

Grégoire and d'Hervas, Carrel's seconds, and Théodore Anne and Albert

Berthier, M. Roux-Laborie's seconds. Carrel, as instigator, had the

choice of arms, and chose swords. Next day, Saturday, 2 February (the

day of the first performance of _Lucrèce Borgia),_ M. Roux-Laborie,

accompanied by MM. Berthier and Théodore Anne, presented themselves at

the barrière de Clichy, where, almost immediately afterwards, Armand

Carrel arrived, supported by M. d'Hervas, capitaine de chasseurs, and

by Grégoire. The two adversaries each stayed in their carriages whilst

the seconds got out and conferred together. Then arose an incident

amongst the seconds, which, in the case of a man other than brave and

loyal Carrel, would have been made the occasion for giving up the

duel. M. Roux-Laborie's seconds, with instructions received from the

leaders of the Carlist party, declared that their friend was ready to

answer his challenge; but that he desired to fight with some other

than Carrel, seeing that the feelings the Legitimists had for the

chief editor of _Le National_ were much more those of gratitude than

of hatred, Carrel having, before the Assises of Blois, by his open and

loyal evidence, saved the life of one of their party, M. de Chièvres,

accused of participation in the affairs of la Vendée. Carrel, on that

occasion, had done for M. de Chièvres, in 1832, what M. de Chièvres did

for Carrel when he was accused in 1823 of plotting against the State.

"If Carrel were wounded," said MM. Théodore Anne and Albert Berthier,

"there would be mourning in both the camps, whilst if, on the contrary,

M. Roux-Laborie were hit, there would only be grief in one camp, and

the match would not be equal."

From every motive M. Roux-Laborie's seconds demand the substitution of

Carrel for some other person, whomsoever they liked. M. Roux-Laborie

was ready to accept that person whoever it might be.

These observations were transmitted to Carrel. He got down out of

his carriage, came up to the seconds and thanked them for their

complimentary remarks about himself, but he declared, at the same time,

that he was not in the habit of being replaced; he had come to fight

and meant to fight. Carrel's resolution was positive and they had to

give in to him. They entered their carriages and went in search of a

spot suitable for the encounter; they went far before they found it.

At last they stopped behind a factory near the île Saint-Ouen. Until

then they had found the ground too damp and slippery; there, alone,

was the earth solid on account of the deposit of pit-coal. The two

adversaries then dismounted from their carriages, bowed politely and

put themselves on guard. The engagement was short and sharp. After two

or three passes, they both lunged simultaneously. Carrel's sword merely

penetrated M. Roux-Laborie's arm. The seconds stopped the duel crying,

"There is a wound!"

They went up to M. Roux-Laborie.

"I, too, am wounded," Carrel quietly observed, putting his hand to his

abdomen at the same time.

Whilst M. Roux-Laborie's doctor, M. Bouché-Dugua, was dressing his

patient, Dumont, Carrel's doctor, discovered a serious injury to the

groin. M. Roux-Laborie was able to be taken away in a carriage, but

it was impossible to move Carrel. They ran to the factory and got a

mattress which they stretched on the shafts of a cart they found ready

at hand, then they placed Carrel on the mattress and his seconds,

helped by M. Roux-Laborie's friends, who had remained with them,

carried the wounded man to the factory, where they hastened to render

him a hospitable reception. Dumont bled Carrel, but his condition was

too grave to allow him to be driven to Paris; that would have risked

a fatal accident, the movement of the carriage would have led to

hæmorrhage. One of M. Roux-Laborie's seconds ran to Clichy and brought

back a stretcher, upon which they could take Carrel to his house in the

rue Blanche. They sent off quickly for M. Dupuytren, who rushed there.

The injury was serious, the sword had gone in nearly three inches, and

had penetrated the liver; they could not yet predict the upshot of the

accident.

The same night the report of the event spread throughout Paris with the

rapidity of bad news. You must have lived at that period of excitement

and enthusiasm to have an idea of the magic which attached to the name

of Carrel. On the morrow, the duel and its details filled the leading

articles of every newspaper. We open the first to hand by chance_--Le

Corsaire_--and we read--

"2 _February_ 1833.--It is with inexpressible grief that

all fair-minded persons learnt yesterday the news of the

wound received by M. Armand Carrel, in a duel with M.

Roux-Laborie, one of the Legitimists whose names were

sent to _Le National._ But it is quite impossible to give

any idea of the indignation and sorrow of patriots upon

learning this deplorable event, of Carlists especially, who,

by reason of our activity, need not have been driven to

despair; what we should have done as a duty, we now fulfil

as a sacred obligation. M. Armand Carrel is by virtue of

his fine talent, his noble strength of character, by the

renown and usefulness of the services he has rendered,

and, above all, by the detestation which he has expressed

against the enemies of our liberties, is one of those men

whose youth has already been a credit to the country. The

party which has struck him down has not as much wealth as M.

Carrel. Obeying a generous impulse, whilst his reason, at

the same time, was opposed to an unjust attack, he acceded

to a duel on behalf of the sad cause in which we are now

engaged. He was injured in the groin by a sword, but his

condition is not past hope, and M. Dupuytren, who went to

him, confirms the seriousness of the wound without giving

up hope. There is such a splendid future before M. Carrel

that we cannot harbour the distressing idea that it may soon

terminate. He is one of those men who seem bound up with the

destiny of his country. He showed touching sympathy when

misfortune struck down one of our friends in the same cause,

and we shall not cease to follow him with our gratitude and

devotion and with the patriotism which he taught so well, of

which he has given us such a fine example."

The whole of Paris called to inquire at Carrel's house. Amongst the

twenty first names written in the visitors' book were La Fayette,

Chateaubriand, Béranger, Thiers and Dupin. The society _Aide-toi et

le Ciel t'aidera,_ appointed a committee of three members to go, in

the name of the whole society, to inscribe their names and express

their sympathy for the loyal and courageous conduct he had displayed

throughout the affair. The committee was composed of MM. Thiard,

Lariboissière and Lemercier, of the Institut. On the night of the day

when the duel took place, M. Albert Berthier, one of M. Roux-Laborie's

seconds, received the following letter from M. d'Hervas:--

"MONSIEUR,--It is with profound regret that, in exchange

for your good and generous action of this morning, I feel

myself compelled to ask you to fix a duel for to-morrow.

M. Carrel is the man I love and revere most in the world.

He is seriously wounded, and honour demands that I avenge

him. Your obliging conduct of this morning alone kept the

request from my lips that I now make you. I know you to be

a man of honour, and am certain you will understand me. I

spend the night with M. Carrel, where I shall expect your

reply to-morrow morning. Choose the arms, place of meeting

and time; but I desire that our encounter should take place

during the day, for I am obliged to return at night to my

regiment.--Accept my respectful greetings,

"D'HERVAS"

On Sunday morning M. d'Hervas received this reply--

"3 _February_ 1833

"SIR,--The police have seized me, and I have only time

to reply that, for the moment, it is impossible for me

to respond to your challenge. You will understand my

situation.--Yours, etc., ALBERT BERTHIER"

A letter pretty nearly in the same terms as that to M. Berthier was

written by M. Grégoire to Théodore Anne. But, like M. Albert Berthier,

Théodore Anne had also been arrested. He was therefore obliged to

postpone the meeting. But, in order that it should be clearly known

that only _force majeure_ could hinder the proposed duels, the

Republican party inserted the following paragraph in the newspapers, as

a public answer to the letters of MM. Berthier and Théodore Anne:--

"We keenly regret, gentlemen, that arrest or a threatened

arrest does not permit you to reply to the letter we wrote

you yesterday; we hope, as much as you yourselves can do so,

that a speedy liberation will allow you to respond to our

challenge. However, we will gladly accept in the meantime

any Legitimists you may be pleased to substitute until you

are yourselves ready.

"D'HERVAS, GRÉGOIRE"

It will be seen that the tourney was fully begun and in good earnest.

The arrest of MM. Berthier and Théodore Anne only, as one might

imagine, exasperated the two parties all the more. The real enemy

throughout, as both Carlists and patriots thoroughly realised, was the

Government of Louis-Philippe. The following letter was addressed to the

editors of the _Revenant_:--

"GENTLEMEN,--We look upon your remarks of yesterday in

the _National_ and _Tribune_ as a direct challenge. You

refused our challenge yesterday; to-day, after what has

just happened between MM. Armand Carrel and Roux-Laborie,

we adhere more closely than ever to upholding our views and

to the pursuit of your party BY ALL METHODS to gain a just

and public reparation. We send you a preliminary list of

twelve persons, since yesterday you spoke of twelve on your

side. We do not demand a dozen duels simultaneously, but

successively, and in the time and places most convenient to

you. No excuse, no pretext would save you from cowardice,

nor from the subsequent consequences of such cowardice.

Henceforth, the first duel will be the declaration of war

between your side and ours. There shall be no truce until

one of the two has succumbed to the other--

"ARMAND MARRAST

"GODEFROY CAVAIGNAC

"GARDARIN"

Then came the names of twelve patriots. A similar letter was addressed

to the offices of _La Quotidienne._ It was signed by Ambert, Guinard

and by M. Thévenin. At the same time, Germain Sarrut, supported by

MM. Delsart and Saint-Edme, went to M. de Genoude, who replied to the

explanations demanded--

"MONSIEUR,--The editors of _La Gazette_ officially

disapprove of the conduct of the men of their party who have

incited the contributors of the different newspapers, and

they consequently refuse to take any part _whatsoever_ in

the quarrel raised between the two parties."

_La Quotidienne,_ in its turn, wrote the following letter in

reply to that of Ambert, Guinard and Thévenin--

"M. de Montfort, M. de Calvimont and others, being arrested,

or under the pressure of a warrant, the business of the

letter from the gentlemen of the _National_ cannot be

attended to for the moment--3 February."

This letter was received on the 4th. On the 5th the patriotic papers

contained the following paragraph:--

"The letters addressed yesterday by our friends to the

champions of the legitimacy have been supported to-day by

overtures made by several of them to those gentlemen to

induce them to take definite action and not to prolong a

situation which hitherto has been neither an acceptance nor

a formal refusal. It now appears that equivocation is at an

end. They do not accept the challenge."

Meantime, various duels took place. On 2 February, preoccupied by the

first representation of _Lucrèce_ _Borgia,_ I had only put in but a

brief appearance at the _National_; they did not yet know the result of

the meeting there. I found one of my friends there, M. de Beauterne,

an impulsive and excitable character. He came to put his name down;

but, learning that the list was closed, he decided to act on his own

account. We returned together, and he came up to my rooms, asked me

for a pen, paper and ink and wrote to Nettement, the editor of _La

Quotidienne,_ offering him a meeting. He urged me strongly to do the

same; but it was a difficult enough matter for me; Republican though I

was, I certainly had more friends amongst the Carlists than among the

Republicans. He was so insistent that I had no way of getting out of

it. So I took up my pen and wrote--

"MY DEAR BEAUCHENE,--If your party is as silly as mine, and

compels you to fight, I ask you, in preference to another,

delighted as I shall ever be to give you a proof of my

esteem, in default of a proof of friendship.--Yours always,

ALEX. DUMAS"

Beauterne pushed his complacency to the point of himself undertaking

to deliver the letter. Beauchene was in the country, and not expected

to return for a week or ten days; but his concierge was deputed to

forward him the letter. On 4 February, the meeting offered by Beauterne

to Nettement took place, and the latter received a sword cut across

the arm. The bulletins which came to us of Carrel's health were

satisfactory. No one was allowed to enter his room except the devoted

creature who never left him, and M. Dupuytren, who came to see him

twice a day. On 5 February, _Le Revenant_ appeared as blank paper:

a note of half a line announced that all its contributors had been

arrested. On the 9th, they arrested M. Sarrut. The same day I received

a letter from Beauchene: he was detained for a few days longer in

the country; but, as soon as he returned, he would put himself at my

disposal. However, there was no means of fighting, for each of us had

a police spy after us, who stuck to us like our shadows. On the 9th,

Carrel was well enough for several of his friends to be allowed in his

room. I went with two or three others: M. Dupuytren was there: it was

the first time I had seen him. He held forth upon the speedy and easy

cure of sword cuts, and promised Carrel he should be on his feet again

in another week.

A month before, this is what had happened to the famous doctor: a

paymaster had played and lost a considerable sum taken from the

regimental exchequer; when he returned home he saw no other alternative

but the galleys or death. He chose death. Then, with prodigious

_sang-froid,_ after writing down his reason for suicide, he drew his

sword, leant the hilt against the wall, with the point to his breast,

took a step forward and the sword penetrated six inches. He continued

to push till the sword had gone in a foot ... still he went on pushing;

the hilt of the sword, as they say in barrack-room parlance, had

acted as a plaster. In spite of all he still remained upright. Then

remorse seized upon him; the desire for life overtook him and he rang

for his servant; only, as he felt weak, he seated himself astride a

chair whilst he waited for the servant. In this position, the latter

found his master when he entered; at first, he did not understand

the situation and did not notice the hilt of the sword against his

master's breast, and the eighteen inches of steel coming out from

between his shoulders.

"Go and fetch M. Dupuytren," said the officer.

The servant began to ask what was the matter.

"Go! go!" the officer repeated. "_Sacrebleu!_ Can't you see there is no

time to lose!"

The officer grew deadly pale; there was a pool of blood at his feet.

The servant saw there was, indeed, no time to lose and he rushed off to

M. Dupuytren. When M. Dupuytren arrived, the wounded man had slipped

down in the chair and was laid in a faint over the side. M. Dupuytren

drew out the sword with the greatest precaution, applied a twofold

bandage and, seeing a written paper, took possession of it: the cause

of the suicide was then explained to him. With the paper he found a

banker, and the latter gave the officer the 150 louis he had lost. On

the evening of the day upon which M. Dupuytren related this to us, the

officer had got up and was able to go to his desk. When he opened the

drawer, he found the 150 louis.

The man was saved twice over.

Whilst Carrel was advancing to recovery, as M. Dupuytren had predicted,

preventative arrests were being continued; but, on 14 February, the

Council Chamber found the seconds of M. Roux-Laborie and of MM. Albert

Berthier and Théodore Anne not guilty, and they were set at liberty.

The first use these gentlemen made of their liberty was to place

themselves at the disposal of MM. d'Hervas and Achille Grégoire; only,

not wanting to enter upon this succession of duels as a mere matter

of principle, they chose their seconds from among the Republicans.

Thus, MM. Mathieu and Alexis Dumesnil were M. Berthier's seconds, and

Étienne Arago and Anténor Joly those of M. Théodore Anne. But, on the

morning of the 15th, MM. Théodore Anne and Albert Berthier received

this letter, written by Carrel in duplicate. We have the one addressed

to Théodore Anne.

"PARIS, 15 _February_ 1833

"SIR,--I have learnt with keen satisfaction that to-day you

have at last been allowed to return to your business affairs

and to your friends. I cannot protest too energetically

against the motive upon which they dared to found your

arbitrary detention; but I particularly want to tell you,

sir, how very sensible I have been to the attentions heaped

upon me by your generous loyalty at a time when I might have

feared to have no claim upon it except the sorrow and active

solicitude of my seconds and friends. In this perilous

moment, it has been difficult for me to distinguish between

the devotion of friends who desired to uphold my cause and

share my dangers, and the generous courtesy of the men of

honour whom M. Roux-Laborie had selected for seconds. Be

sure, sir, I have noticed everything even during the time

when sharp suffering seemed to obliterate my light, and I

shall never forget the assiduous attentions with which you

have lavished upon me personally. I need hardly tell you,

sir, how sorry I was that my seconds thought it their duty,

yielding to the impulse of the moment, to seek out you and

M. Berthier to be their opponents; for the future, I can

only count you among the number of people who wish me well,

and to whom I in return wish well. Accept this assurance,

and believe me, Your most devoted Servant,

"CARREL"

The same day, Carrel came out of doors and went to _La Tribune,_ to

_Le National,_ and to pay a call on M. Roux-Laborie, whose wound was

much less serious than that of his adversary, but was healing much more

slowly, and still kept him to his bedroom. Finally, after Carrel's

letter, no further duels were possible. On 17 February, the Republican

newspapers contained the following paragraph:--

"17 _February_.--It will be remembered that after the duel

between MM. Carrel and Roux-Laborie, M. Carrel's seconds

addressed a challenge to the seconds of M. Laborie, MM.

Albert Berthier and Théodore Anne. As is known, these

two gentlemen had been placed under arrest, charged with

inciting to murder. That accusation having beep abandoned,

MM. Albert Berthier and Théodore Anne were bound, on

recovering their liberty, to warn M. Carrel's seconds that

they were now at their disposition; they had added that,

not wishing a meeting between them to assume a political

character, they chose their seconds from among the political

friends of M. Carrel's seconds. The seconds of both sides,

having met together, have decided that they could not

allow any sequel to this affair to take place, since, on

behalf of MM. Berthier and Théodore Anne, the question of

the political aspect is abandoned, and the challenge of

MM. d'Hervas and Achille Grégoire was only prompted by the

danger M. Armand Carrel might then incur, a danger happily

and speedily dissipated. Things being in this state, the

undersigned seconds decree that any collision between the

friends of MM. Armand Carrel and Laborie, when the reasons

thereof no longer exist, would be unjustifiable in the light

of reason and of honour.

"AMBERT, GUINARD, GRÉGOIRE LECOCQ, ORANNE, seconds to MM.

D'HERVAS and ACHILLE GRÉGOIRE; MATHIEU and ALEXIS DUMESNIL,

ÉTIENNE ARAGO, ANTÉNOR JOLY, seconds to MM. BERTHIER and

THÉODORE ANNE"

On the 14th, as we said, MM. Théodore Anne and Albert Berthier had

been set at liberty. On the 15th, Beauchene returned from the country

and informed me of his arrival. The following day, our seconds

conferred together; but, as I have said, after Carrel's letter, no more

duels were possible. Besides, the rumour of the Duchesse de Berry's

pregnancy, without being officially declared, began to take a serious

complexion. No one any longer had doubts on the subject, when, in the

official column of the _Moniteur_ of 26 February, one read--

"On Friday, 22 February, at half-past five o'clock,

Madame la duchesse de Berry handed to M. le général

Bugeaud, governor of the citadel of Blaye, the following

declaration:--

'Compelled by circumstances and by the measures ordered by

the Government, although I have the gravest reasons for

keeping my marriage secret, I think it due to myself as well

as to my children to declare that I was married secretly

during my stay in Italy.

"'CITADEL OF BLAYE, 22 _February_ 1833.

_Signed_ "'MARIE-CAROLINE'

"This declaration, transmitted by M. le général Bugeaud to

M. le président du Conseil, Ministre de la guerre, has been

placed at once among the archives of the chancellerie de

France."

Not one word concerning Her Royal Highness's pregnancy was suggested

in those lines; but one felt perfectly sure that they had only been

written on account of her condition. Furthermore, only two and a half

months later, the name of the Duchesse de Berry's new husband was

officially pronounced in the official report of the accouchement. Here

is that report, a curious sequel to that which was addressed to the

Tuileries on the day of the birth of the Duc de Bordeaux:--

"On 10 May 1833, at half-past three in the morning:

"We the undersigned,--THOMAS-ROBERT BUGEAUD, membre de la

chambre des députés, maréchal de camp, commandant supérieur

de Blaye; ANTOINE DUBOIS, professeur honoraire à la faculté

de médecine de Paris; CHARLES-FRANÇOIS MARCHAND-DUBREUIL,

sous-préfet de l'arrondissement de Blaye; DANIEL-THÉOTIME

PASTOUREAU, président du tribunal de première instance

de Blaye; PIERRE NADAUD, procureur du roi près le même

tribunal; GUILLAUME BELLON, président du tribunal de

commerce, adjoint au maire de Blaye; CHARLES BORDES,

commandant de la garde nationale de Blaye; ELIE DESCRAMBES,

curé de Blaye; PIERRE-CAMILLE DELORD, commandant de la place

de Blaye; CLAUDE-OLIVIER DUFRESNE, commissaire civil du

gouvernement à la citadelle; witnesses called at the request

of General Bugeaud to be present at the accouchement of Her

Royal Highness Marie-Caroline, princesse des Deux-Siciles,

duchesse de Berry (MM. MERLET, maire de Blaye, Regnier juge

de paix, witnesses equally called, being at that time

absent in the country and unable to be present), state that

we were taken to the citadel of Blaye and into the house

inhabited by Her Royal Highness, where we were introduced to

a salon next to the room in which the princess was confined.

"M. le docteur Dubois, M. le général Bugeaud and M. Delord,

commandant de la place, were in the salon from the first

labour-pangs; they declared to the other witnesses that

Madame la duchesse de Berry had just been delivered at three

o'clock, that they had seen her receive the attention of

docteurs Deneux and Menière, M. Dubois having remained in

the room until the child was born. M. le général Bugeaud

went in to ask Madame la duchesse if she wished to receive

the witnesses; she replied, 'Yes, as soon as the child

has been washed and dressed.' A few minutes later, Madame

d'Hautefort appeared in the salon and invited the witnesses

to enter on behalf of the duchesse, and we immediately did

so.

"We found the Duchesse de Berry laid in her bed with a

new-born infant on her left; at the foot of her bed sat

Madame d'Hautefort; Madame Hansler, MM. Deneux and Menière

were standing at the head of the bed.

"'M. le président Pastoureau then approached the princesse

and addressed the following questions to her in a loud

voice--

"'Have I the honour of speaking to Madame la duchesse de

Berry?'

"'Yes.'

"'You are really Madame la duchesse de Berry?'

"'Yes, monsieur.'

"'Is the child just born lying by you yours?'

"'Yes, monsieur, it is mine.'

"'What sex is it?'

"'It is of the feminine sex. I have deputed M. Deneux to

declare that fact.'

"Then Louis-Charles Deneux, docteur de médecine,

ex-professeur de clinique d'accouchement de la faculté de

Paris, titular member of the Académie royale de médecine,

made the following declaration:--

"'I have just delivered Madame la duchesse de Berry,

here present, wife in lawful wedlock of Comte Hector de

Lucchesi-Palli, a prince of the House of Campo-Franco,

gentleman of the chamber to the King of the Two Sicilies,

domiciled at Palermo.'

"M. le Comte de Brissac and Madame la Comtesse d'Hautefort,

asked by us if they would sign the statement of the event of

which they had been witnesses, replied that they had come

here to attend to the Duchesse de Berry as friends but not

to sign any sort of document.

"In respect of all this we have drawn up the present report,

in three copies, one to be deposited in our presence in

the archives of the citadel, while the other two have been

placed with M. le général Bugeaud, governor, whom we have

charged to hand them to the Government, duly signed after

being read over, on the day, month and year dated above."

In our opinion, Madame la duchesse de Berry did a graver wrong than

by marrying M. le Comte de Lucchesi-Palli, noble and loyal Sicilian

gentleman as he was, whose family I had the honour to become acquainted

with during my travels in Sicily. That wrong was in signing the

declaration of 22 February and the legal document of her accouchement

on 10 May 1833; no human power could have compelled her to do so, and

the opposition against the Government was such, at that period, that

every official bit of paper not signed by Madame la duchesse de Berry

could be, if not out of good faith, at least successfully, repudiated

as apocryphal. Between the denial of the Carlist party and the

affirmation of the moderate party, public opinion would have been left

in a state of indecision.

Thus was one of the most heated periods of the beginning of the reign

of Louis-Philippe frustrated. It had a real advantage, because it

brought the Carlist party and the Republican closer together, not

in opinion so much as from respect. MM. Théodore Anne and Berthier,

by joining hands with MM. d'Hervas and Grégoire, whilst Carrel was

crossing swords with M. Roux-Laborie, gave that proof of esteem to

which I referred when talking to Beauchene, which is given among

enemies in default of a proof of friendship.

CHAPTER II

_Lucrèce Borgia_--Discouragement--First conception of the Historical

Romances

In the midst of all this a great literary event had happened. Victor

Hugo had had his first prose drama, _Lucrèce Borgia,_ performed at the

théâtre Porte-Saint-Martin. It is difficult to believe it, but it is a

fact, that during this stormy atmosphere literature sprang to life, and

grew and increased from flower to fruit.

The play was splendidly put on. Georges and Frédérick played the

principal parts. It contained powerfully moving passages, and had an

immense success. Let us state that we owe this glowing picture of

a portion of the life of the Duchesse d'Este to the absence of the

censorship.

From the night of 2 February 1833 began the real life of the author

of _Lucrèce Borgia_ and of _Orientales,_ as it appeared in his

representation of his beautiful drama, _Marion Delorme._ You, lovely

Princess Negroni, know what we mean, you, in whom he discovered the

love and devotion that blessed every hour of his life in this his natal

land as also in foreign lands.

Ah! dear Comtesse Dash, you may rightly say that, unluckily, the most

interesting facts of these Memoirs are those which I cannot write down!

I witnessed the fresh success of Victor Hugo with great

delight--although _friends_ had thrown some clouds across our early

friendship--a joy all the greater as, having temporarily renounced the

theatre myself, Hugo at that period represented the whole school.

Why had I renounced it? One experiences moments of lassitude and of

disgust in life, quite beyond one's own control. I was passing through

such a period. I had been deeply hurt--not by the failure of the

_Fils de l'Émigré,_ for the play was poor; it had justly failed. I

acknowledge and submit to the hard lessons which the public give an

author--this simplicity, let us remark in passing, is a part of my

strength--but, in the simplicity of my heart, I did not understand the

fury of the Press against me. They indeed knew one thing--or rather

two--

That I had fallen ill during the second or third act of the work; that

I had left France in consequence of the troubles of June--namely,

at the beginning of the rehearsals; that, finally, I was hardly

responsible for a third of the work, and they attacked me concerning

my five or six preceding successes. No wonder I was staggered.

But, in other ways, this retiring into my shell, which I am not so

presumptuous to compare with that of Achilles, was of great advantage

with respect to my literary life, which it split into two divisions.

Without the failure of the _Fils de l'Émigré,_ and the explosion of

hatred which followed it, I should probably never have done anything

but theatrical work. On the contrary, during the year's silence which

I kept with regard to the stage, I published my first impressions

of my travels, which was very successful among the booksellers, and

I prepared my volume entitled, _Gaule et France,_ an unfinished but

wonderful book, wherein the double vision of poet supplements the

knowledge of the historian. Then, too, this latter work, which absorbed

me completely, by precipitating me into the intoxication of unknown

matters, was of still greater advantage to me than to the public for

which I intended it: it did not teach the public much, but it taught

me a great deal. I was, I repeat, profoundly ignorant in history.

When I began a historical drama, I did not investigate the whole

century in which my heroes had lived, but merely the two or three

years during which my action took place and the event which formed

the catastrophe of the drama was accomplished. I made a hole after

the fashion of well-sinkers; I dived like fishermen. True, by dint

of digging, I sometimes brought up an ingot of gold; by diving, I at

times came to the surface with a pearl; but it was merely chance.

The studies I was compelled to make about the French Monarchy, from

Cæsar's invasion of the Gauls to the invasion of the French Republic in

Europe, unfolded before my eyes that magnificent continuity of eighteen

centuries wrongly styled the history of France, under Charlemagne,

Philippe-Auguste, François I., Louis XIV. and Napoleon, which has

become the history of the world. I viewed with amazement the marvellous

advantage there was to be derived from these changes of dynasty and of

morals and of customs. I made acquaintance with the men who summed up

a reign, with the men who summed up a century, with those, also, who

represented a period. I saw appear, like meteors lost to the vulgar

gaze in the night of time, those rare chosen spirits of Providence

which pass with fire on their brows, bearing the thoughts of God,

unconscious themselves of what they carry and not realising their

mission until they go to render up their account to Him who bestowed it

upon them.

I confess I was at first dazzled before this awful Sinai, its summit

thundered upon by the superb trinity of the men we call Cæsar,

Charlemagne and Napoleon. I then understood that there was to be done

for this great and beauteous France what Walter Scott had done for

poor little Scotland, an illustrated, picturesque and dramatic story

of the past--a bringing to life again of all the great dead--a kind of

last judgment of all those who had worn a crown, whether of laurels,

of flowers or of gold. But, I admit, if I had been dazzled by this

historical revelation, I was overwhelmed by the work it imposed on the

historian, and I fell prostrate, saying to myself: Happy indeed is the

man who shall accomplish this gigantic mission! but God knows full

well I have not the vanity to imagine it will be mine.

Yet I proceeded with my work with a growing courage, amidst the doubts

and laughter of all my friends. When I meet some one whom I have not

seen for some time, he will say to me--

"So it is you!"

"Yes, it is I. What is there surprising in that?"

"I thought you were dead."

"Why?"

"Because you have been doing nothing."

"Who told you that?"

"Why! nobody is talking of you."

"I have written a book."

"Ah yes! your _Impressions de Voyages._ I read that, it was very funny;

you're a fine joker."

"Why am I a joker?"

"Would you have me believe that you have tasted bear's flesh and caught

trout with a bill-hook?"

"Of course, there is absolutely nothing else in my _Impressions de

Voyages._ But I am writing a history now." "You write a history! You

are wrong."

"Why so?"

"Stick to drama, my dear fellow; you know you are dramatic through and

through."

"Does it therefore follow that because, as you say, I am dramatic

before everything else I ought not to write drama? Is there nothing

dramatic outside the stage, and could one not put drama into a novel?"

"A novel! You want to do a romance after the style of Walter Scott?"

"Why not?"

But my interlocutor shook his head.

"Walter Scott has depicted localities, characters, manners; you must

take the novel from Walter Scott's hands, as Raphael took art from

Perugino's, and add the passions."

"If I were you--though I have no advice to offer you--I would stick to

the theatre."

"Let me try."

"Oh! you are a free agent!"

So my questioner left me with a shrug of his shoulders, as much as

to say, "There goes another to destruction!" Am I lost, or have I,

as I said Raphael did to Perugino, taken romance from the hands of

Walter Scott to give him a push forward? Have I taught a little of the

history of my country to my contemporaries by causing them to read

_la Comtesse de Salysbury, le Bâtard de Mauléon, Isabeau de Bavière,

Jehanne la Pucelle, Ascanio, la Reine Margot, la Dame de Montsoreau,

les Quarante-Cinq, les Trois Mousquetaires, Vingt ans après, le Vicomte

de Bragelonne, le Chevalier d'Harmental, la Fille du Régent, Balsamo,

le Collier de la Reine, Ange Pitou, la Comtesse de Charny et le

Chevalier de Maison-Rouge?_ The future must decide. In any case, the

metamorphosis of the dramatic poet into a romance-writer dates from

1833, and the probable cause was the failure of the _Fils de l'Émigré._

CHAPTER III

Condition of the Théâtre-Français in 1832 and 1833--Causes which had

led to our emigration from the Théâtre-Français--Reflections concerning

the education of dramatic artists

In one of the preceding volumes of these _Souvenirs,_ we amused

ourselves by enumerating the plays that the Théâtre-Français acted

in 1830 to 1834, whilst the Porte-Saint-Martin was playing _Antony,

Marion Delorme, Richard, La Tour de Nesle, Lucrèce Borgia, Marie Tudor_

and _Angèle._ Two of these plays were to pass to the Théâtre-Français

without any other advertisement except their failure. They were _Guido

Reni_ and _Le Presbytère. Caïus_ _Gracchus,_ by Théodore Dartois, and

_Clarisse Harlowe,_ by Denain, my collaborator in _Richard Darlington,_

had followed the first two dramas without turning the ill-fortune which

seemed to be attached to the theatre. There was genuine despair in

the rue de Richelieu: the last days of Mademoiselle Mars were wasted

in failures. She had, indeed, acted in _Guido Reni_ and in _Clarisse_

_Harlowe_ without being able to give more than a few touches of life

to these two works. In other ways there began, between the dramatic

school of 1828 and the Théâtre-Français, the spirit of antagonism

which has lasted until to-day, even after my having given my _Henri

III._ and Hugo his _Hernani_ to the Théâtre-Français. This stupid

opposition, which we felt to be permanently against us, half arising

from the administration and half from society itself, had induced us

to desert it. In fact, with the restrictive conditions by which the

Théâtre-Français was bound, it could play neither _Christine_ nor

_Richard,_ nor _La Tour de Nesle,_ nor _Lucrèce Borgia._ Now, why could

these plays not be acted? It is a difficult matter to explain. Why

cannot certain plants which flourish splendidly in other latitudes grow

in such or such another kind of climate? They need atmosphere.

Well! it must be admitted that the Théâtre-Français has its own

atmosphere, in which certain forms of art, the picturesque and the

poetic, cannot thrive. Now this very picturesque and poetic side,

which was unable to accommodate itself to the jog-trot routine of

the theatre of the rue de Richelieu, was just what constituted the

splendid efflorescence of dramatic art. It must be admitted that,

before the rise of the Modern School, this side of dramatic art was

totally unknown in France; it came from abroad. It had its origins in

Æschylus, its development in Shakespeare and Goethe and Schiller. As we

have seen, it rose again to the fore at the beginning of the dramatic

world. We felt instinctively that something would be eternally missing

in French art so long as it did not manage to graft upon itself this

exotic art. It was the same as with the gardens in our parks, the

authorities of which, when they had transformed them after the periods

of Louis XIV. and Louis XV., were no longer satisfied with lime-trees

cut in arcades, yews cut in pyramids, chestnut trees cut in lines like

a chess-board, but felt the need for designing them on new plans, and

of adding to the classical and national trees the American magnolia,

the sumachs of Japan, the paulownia of China. What we wanted to do, in

short, in dramatic art, was something after the style of the garden of

the Petit-Trianon, as opposed to the Versailles. Winding paths, massive

trees of all shades of foliage and flower, running water, as in the

Alps or Pyrenees, lawns and mossy places as in England and Ireland.

Then, instead of eternally following the regular path which, without

episode or surprise, leads straight to the end foreseen from the first

step, one could lose oneself, find one's way again and, in fact, pass

through every emotion of that art which is all the greater in that it

conceals itself behind nature to the point of making believe that it

does not exist. Imagine gardeners who were capable of endowing your

horizons with palms with moving plumes, banana trees with huge leaves,

bamboos with flexible slender stems, to whom you refused entrance to

your gardens because the stateliness of your oaks, the serious look

of your limes and the proud bearing of your yews could not endure the

proximity of the new-comers; would not those gardeners thus repulsed

by you have the right to make their winter gardens elsewhere? Very

well! that is just the very situation in which we found ourselves with

regard to the Théâtre-Français. The vicinity of Molière, that lime-tree

with sweet scented flowers, hovered over by numbers of humming bees;

Corneille, the majestic oak which covers the seventeenth century with

its shade; and Racine, that agreeable, evergreen yew, cut to suit the

taste of the Court of Louis XIV., was, they said, degraded by us. Being

gods as jealous as Jehovah, they wanted to keep their sky pure from

contact with those other gods, by name Shakespeare, Calderon, Schiller

and Goethe. Hence arose the administrative opposition, supported in its

absolutism by literary criticism. Nothing is so repugnant to literary

criticism as admiration for the living. Remember the dialogue reply to

criticism which Molière gives, and Corneille's humble prefaces apropos

of Nicomède. Think of Racine's bitter recriminations with respect to

Andromaque. Well then, the three men who stand for the dramatic trinity

in the religion of modern art, these men who, with good reason, were

held to be as gods equal to the Roman Cæsars, could apparently only

become divine by dying. Now criticism said to the young poets--Outside

the art of Louis XIV. is no salvation. Criticism well knew that that

art was dead, because, indeed, it was exhausted by having borne such

splendid fruits as _Tartufe, Horace, Britannicus._ It knew full well

that the scathing spirit of Molière against a state of society which

no longer exists could not be met with again; nor the thoughtful

style of Corneille, son of the League and of the Fronde; nor the

suave complacency of Racine, rewarded by a glance from Lavallière,

or punished by a word from Louis XIV.--these could none of them be

revived. It knew that all this had died with the men themselves, and

could not be revived after them in other individualities, placed in

contact with other epochs, customs and men. Because it knew that all

this spirit was dead, entirely dead, it asked us to resuscitate it.

It was pointed out that academic methods of galvanism applied to

corpses might, occasionally, make a dead body tremble; but between that

and the resurrection of the daughter of Jairus, and of Lazarus, there

was the abyss which separates Volta from Jesus Christ, the man from

God. No matter, exclaimed the critics. Give us Molière, Corneille and

Racine; we will have none others. True, said MM. Lemercier, Viennet and

Baour-Lormian, you have us; but criticism would not accept them.

Now we will pass on to the opposition which came from the side of

the associates. Talma had spent his life asking authors to write him

something fresh.

Mademoiselle Mars said: "Do so if you like."

Other members said: "Do nothing of the kind."

Talma, born in Paris, but brought up in England, spoke English as

easily as French; Talma, acting, with equal indifference _Auguste_ and

_Néron_ in Paris and _Hamlet_ and _Richard, III._ in London; compelled

to play Ducis instead of Shakespeare, could comprehend all that would

be gained by the introduction of a fresh element into the national art.

Mademoiselle Mars, intelligent, delicate, a _comedienne_ both innately

and from study, who made up for want of genius by wit, of strength by

gracefulness, greatness by cleverness, she could say, "_Do something

fresh if you want to._" Armed with her qualifications, even though

they were slightly inferior, whilst still eminently sympathetic, she

was always safe _to succeed_ in everything. You can see she was not

mistaken, since, after she had played Sylvia, Elmire, Célimène, she

took the part of the Duchesse de Guise, Dona Sol and of Desdemona.

The rest said, "_Do not create anything fresh for us,_" because,

for the most part, they were just ordinary stereotyped artists with

no desire to begin their education over again, feeling, at the same

time too, that if they attempted it they were powerless to transform

themselves.

Let us indeed examine into the education given to our artists, and see

if it is as complete and intelligent as it might be.

CHAPTER IV

Talma--Mademoiselle Mars--The Conservatoire--Macready--Young--Kean

--Miss Smithson--Mrs. Siddons--Miss Faucit--Shakespeare--The limits

to dramatic art in France

We have told what Talma's education had been. Brought early to Paris,

taken to London at the age of eight or nine, his earliest enthusiasm

had been for Shakespeare. When he returned to Paris he had made his

first appearance about 1788 or '89, and had done his very utmost to

get the theatre to embark on true lines. Not succeeding in moving them

in the matter of works, he had turned to costumes. After he had played

_Charles IX.,_ Chenier's classical piece, without being able to change

a line of it, he had played Racine's _Berenice_ and changed Titus's

style of wig. That change of wig created a revolution. From 1791, the

period during which the work was played, they wore their locks _à la

Titus._ So Talma demanded something fresh, because he was a genius.

Mlle. Mars, a _fille de la halle_ in theatrical parlance, who had

acted in comedy from her mother's knees, lisping Sedaine's _Victorine_

when first learning to talk; a pupil of Monvel, whom they banished

from the Comédie-Française with a shameful excuse, but really because,

with his unstudied tones, without even raising his voice, he produced

more effect than MM. Larive and Lafond with their loud cries and great

strength; Mlle. Mars, who could modulate her flexible voice to the

whole dramatic gamut, from the charming prattle of Madame de Bawr to

the growling and savage roar of Clotilde; Mademoiselle Mars, who by

means of her art could make up for genuine passion; she accepted the

new school because she was clever. But as for the rest of them, they

rejected it because they were merely mechanical. Firmin and Joanny

very nearly came over to our side, yet, after all, the transition was

not really sincere. Firmin shrank from Antony, and Joanny certainly

preferred Orosmane to Othello. Who was to blame? I do not hesitate

to say it was the fault of the dramatic education given by the

professors of the Conservatoire to their pupils. It is true they were

only appointed professors to the Conservatoire on condition they gave

this education and no other. Why is not Frédérick, a powerful genius

(in spite of what our collaborator Marteau said the other day in _Le

Mousquetaire_), why is not Frédérick a professor at the Conservatoire?

Why is not Bocage, who has created on a lofty plane seven or eight

rôles which will remain as types? Why is not Lockroy a professor of the

Conservatoire, who is the cleverest adviser I know? Why, finally, is

not Dorval a professor there, a large-hearted woman, who had enthusiasm

enough to inspire half a score of actresses if it could be done?

Because the Conservatoire must not teach anything but dead art and has

to be hostile to living art. It appears to me that the Conservatoire

is committing the same error as the École de Rome. All _grand prix_

students are sent to Rome. Now suppose Rembrandt and Rubens were our

contemporaries: Rembrandt who stands for light and Rubens for colour.

Suppose God had bestowed the honour on France of making them our

countrymen. Suppose, then, they are pupils, the one of Decamps, the

other of Delacroix. Suppose they compete, and that Rembrandt painted

for his theme _La Ronde de Nuit,_ and that Rubens painted _l'Adoration

des Mages._ Suppose they were accepted, and, which is absolutely

unimaginable, the one gained the first and the other the second prize.

Next, they pick out Rubens and Rembrandt, and dispatch them to M.

Ingres, director of the School of Painting at Rome, and write to him

to give a guiding hand to these two promising young men. M. Ingres has

the two pictures sent to him to look at. He faints at the sight of

_l'Adoration des Mages,_ and has a fit when he sees _La Ronde de Nuit,_

and he totally abandons the two pupils to their unhappy fate with

the advice--Study Raphael, apart from Raphael there is no salvation

possible. Do you imagine that Rembrandt and Rubens, if they should

study, Rembrandt _Les Fiançailles de la Vierge_ and Rubens _La Dispute

d'Athènes,_ could ever paint such pictures? Not only would they remain

bad scholars instead of becoming masters, and very great masters;

but, instead of painting _La Descente de Croix_ and _l'Ange du Jeune_

_Tobie,_ they would do atrocious _pasticcio_ far worse than these.

Ah, well! that is exactly what happens to the pupils of the

Conservatoire. In France they are destined either for tragedy or

comedy: if for tragedy, they study Corneille and Racine--if for

comedy, Molière and Regnard. Hardly ever at the same time both

Corneille, Molière, Regnard and Racine. It must be either comedy or

tragedy--laughter or tears. In England they have no Conservatoire,

and no author but Shakespeare. But Shakespeare contains the whole

of humanity. A pupil who studies Shakespeare studies at the same

time Corneille, Molière, Racine and Regnard. Then, too, Shakespeare

is as full of comedy as Molière and Regnard; look at _Falstaff_

and _Mercutio._ He is as dramatic as Corneille and Racine; witness

_Othello_ and _Richard III._ Furthermore, he is as mystical as Goethe,

for instance _Hamlet_; as dramatic as Schiller, in _Macbeth_; as

poetical ... as the whole realm of poetry combined. Think of _Romeo._

Accordingly, when an actor or actress has studied Shakespeare, they

have studied everything. The actress has studied innocence in Juliet,

ambition in Lady Macbeth, grace in Ariel, filial affection in Cordelia,

maternal love in Valeria, terror in Hamlet's mother and devotion and

love in Desdemona. The actor has studied artifice in Richard III.,

madness in King Lear, jealousy in Othello, dignity in Julius Cæsar,

chivalry in Talbot and melancholy in, Hamlet--melancholy, the tenth

muse, unknown to the ancients, which has been revealed to us by the

sixteenth century. Shakespeare foresaw everything, even mesmerism,

which did not appear till the close of the eighteenth century. Think

of the sleep-walking scene of Lady Macbeth! The result is that in the

hands of a well-developed student, Shakespeare can replace Molière,

Corneille, Racine, Calderon, Goethe and Schiller. This it is which

clouds Macready's brow in Hamlet, Kean's terrible glance in Othello,

the ominous laughter of Richard in Young, Smithson's heartrending tears

in Ophelia, and Siddons' appalling shrieks in Lady Macbeth and Miss

Faucit's enchanting love-making in Juliet.

A moment ago we made a suggestion, we said let us suppose Rembrandt and

Rubens lived in our days. Now let us also imagine that Shakespeare is

our contemporary. Who, at the Théâtre-Français will play Romeo, Juliet,

Desdemona, Ariel, Miranda, Richard III., Hamlet and Ophelia? Nobody.

Mademoiselle Rachel's inflexible talent will not bend to all the

feminine tenderness necessary for the swans of Shakespeare. Beauvallet,

Geoffroy and Réginer, perhaps, might give us an idea of some of the

masculine types. But the number of persons who could undertake the

playing of Shakespeare, at the Théâtre-Français, would certainly not

exceed two or three. Shakespeare, therefore, would be compelled to do

what Hugo and I did in 1830, or as Casimir Delavigne had to do in 1833

with _Les Enfants d'Édouard._

Oh, gentlemen! you who are engaged in matters of French dramatic

art, ponder this seriously. France, with its powers of assimilation,

ought not to restrict itself to National Art. She ought to seize upon

European Art, cosmopolitan, universal art--bounded in the North by

Shakespeare, in the East by Æschylus, in the South by Calderon and

in the West by Corneille. It was thus that Augustus, Charlemagne and

Napoleon conceived their Empires.

* * * * *

And now we ask our patient, faithful reader's permission to close

provisionally this series of our Memoirs. The Souvenirs which we should

now have to recall belong to the period at which we have arrived and

frequently have too many points of contact with present-day politics

and politicians to enable us always to speak freely. Later, when better

conditions shall prevail in France, in the matter of the press--if the

reception accorded to these Memoirs comes up to our expectation, and

God sees fit to grant us life--we will resume our chronicler's pen in

the hope of providing fresh and curious material for the veracious

history of our times.

FINIS

APPENDIX

[See text, p. 83. The following is the discussion referred to.--(see

book II, chapter III]

Nous avons promis, on se le rappelle, de compulser les archives du

conseil d'État, et de donner un extrait de cinq ou six séances où

fut débattue, devant la commission formée pour préparer la loi sur

les théâtres, la question de la censure dramatique et de la liberté

théâtrale. Sans tenir compte de l'ordre chronologique, nous allons

mettre sous les yeux de nos lecteurs ce précieux document de notre

histoire littéraire, qui nous semble avoir sa place marquée ici mieux

que partout ailleurs.

Or, il arriva qu'un jour,--c'était dans la seconde quinzaine de

septembre 1849,--je reçus une lettre qui me priait de me rendre le

lendemain à une séance du conseil d'État.

Mon étonnement fut grand; je n'ai jamais ni donné, ni demandé un

conseil.

Quel conseil pouvait donc avoir à me donner ou à me demander le conseil

d'État.

Je me rendis à l'invitation un peu tard, selon mon habitude; aussi la

séance était-elle déjà ouverte.

M. Vivien présidait, et MM. les conseillers Béhic et Charton siégeaient

à ses côtés.

MM. Bayard, Mélesville, Victor Hugo, Eugène Scribe et Émile Souvestre

avaient été convoqués comme moi, et, arrivés avant moi, étaient en

séance.

Mélesville parlait sur la question de la liberté industrielle des

théâtres. Cette question m'intéressait d'autant plus que c'était la

première fois qu'une commission quelconque me fît l'honneur de me

convoquer à une pareille délibération.

Mélesville racontait, avec cette parole claire et facile qui, en

écartant ses lèvres, fait voir à la fois et son bienveillant sourire

et ses belles dents, Mélesville racontait, dis-je, que, l'année

précédente, il avait fait partie d'une commission formée par M.

Ledru-Rollin dans le but d'examiner la question théâtrale sous

le triple aspect de la liberté industrielle, de la censure et des

cautionnements.

La commission s'était prononcée pour la liberté industrielle.

Mélesville avouait qu'il ne s'était point, en cette circonstance,

réuni à la majorité, et qu'il était, lui, partisan, non d'une liberté

illimitée, mais d'une concurrence limitée.

Tout cela fut dit, je le répète, avec cette gracieuse urbanité de

paroles qui est le caractère particulier de la conversation de

Mélesville.

Puis vint le tour de Bayard.

Vice-président de la société des auteurs dramatiques, il déclara, au

nom de cette société, qu'elle demandait la liberté théâtrale la plus

absolue.

Quant à lui personnellement, ainsi que Mélesville, il demandait

un moyen terme qui donnât plus d'activité aux théâtres existants:

--par exemple, l'Odéon vigoureusement soutenu, pour éperonner le

Théâtre-Français, et un troisième théâtre lyrique, pour fouetter

l'Opéra-Comique et le Grand-Opéra.

Il était comme ces pisciculteurs qui mettent un certain nombre de

perches et de brochets dans leurs étangs afin d'empêcher, en leur

donnant la chasse, les carpes de devenir trop grasses.

La discussion se prolongea pendant quelque temps sur la même matière

entre MM. les conseillers Béhic et Charton, et MM. Mélesville et

Bayard,--MM. les conseillers prétendant qu'il y avait déjà trop de

théâtres, MM. les auteurs affirmant qu'un troisième théâtre lyrique

était nécessaire.

Puis ce fut le tour de Scribe de parler.

M. SCRIBE.--La liberté des théâtres serait la ruine de l'art, du goût,

de l'industrie et des _mœurs!_ Avec elle, il ne s'élèvera pas de bons

théâtres; il s'en élèvera immédiatement beaucoup de mauvais. La raison

en est bien simple: les bons théâtres font peu d'argent; les mauvais,

beaucoup. Je ne chercherai pas comment on peut restreindre la liberté

des entreprises théâtrales. Mon système est franc: je n'admets pas

cette liberté. Si l'absolutisme peut être permis quelque part, c'est

assurément en fait de théâtre. Je voudrais que l'on fît ce que firent

autrefois les décrets impériaux, qu'on limitât d'une manière précise

et assez étroite le nombre des théâtres de la capitale. Je dis assez

étroite; je ne voudrais pas, cependant, que l'on adoptât le nombre fixé

en 1807. La population a augmenté depuis cette époque: il faut tenir

compte de cette augmentation; je prendrais, par exemple, le nombre

seize; sur ces seize théâtres conservés, tant seraient consacrés aux

chefs-d'œuvre anciens, tant au genre lyrique, tant à la comédie et à la

tragédie moderne, etc., etc. Par ce système, on arriverait à augmenter

le nombre des grands théâtres, des théâtres utiles, et, en même temps,

à les rendre prospères par la diminution des scènes secondaires qui

leur font concurrence. Les grands théâtres, devenant plus riches,

pourraient se passer des subventions que leur paye le gouvernement.

On ferait ainsi de l'économie et de la morale, en supprimant les

théâtres inutiles ou _dangereux_: par exemple, les théâtres d'enfants,

enseignement mutuel de _mauvaise littérature_ et de _mauvaises mœurs._

Le privilège, dans ce système franc et sévère, est légitime,

_puis-qu'il n'est institué qu'en faveur des ouvrages qui peuvent faire

honneur à l'art, et être utiles à la morale publique._

M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS.--Je suis fâché de n'être d'accord, avec mon

confrère Scribe, sur aucune des propositions qu'il vient d'émettre,

relativement aux théâtres et aux privilèges.

Les théâtres d'enfants, a-t-il dit, sont immoraux, c'est vrai; mais on

peut les soumettre à une police rigoureuse: ils ne le seront plus. Ne

les détruisez pas, c'est une pépinière précieuse de comédiens.

M. SCRIBE.--Et le Conservatoire!

M. DUMAS.--Le Conservatoire fait des comédiens impossibles. Qu'on

me donne n'importe qui,--un garde municipal licencié en Février, un

boutiquier retiré,--j'en ferai un acteur; mais je n'en ai jamais pu

former un seul avec les élèves du Conservatoire. Ils sont à jamais

gâtés par la routine et la médiocrité de l'école; ils n'ont point

étudié la nature, ils se sont toujours bornés à copier plus ou moins

mal leur maître. Au contraire, dès qu'un enfant est sur le théâtre, ce

qu'il peut y avoir en lui de talent se développe naturellement. C'est

ainsi que se sont formés presque tous nos grands comédiens modernes.

Quant à la liberté des théâtres, à mon avis, plus vous la laisserez

entière, plus vous aurez de bons théâtres,--et, par _bons théâtres,_

j'entends, moi, ceux qui attirent le plus de monde, ceux qui font vivre

le plus de familles.

Je ne conçois point les privilèges: dès qu'il y a privilège, il y a

abus! Un privilège me donne un droit que n'a pas mon voisin, et me

pousse à faire ce que je ne ferais pas si l'égalité existait pour tous.

Un privilège fait trouver de l'argent pour une entreprise ruineuse,

et mène à la banqueroute. Le jour où il n'y aura plus de privilèges,

vous aurez trente théâtres dans Paris; mais, un an après, il en restera

tout au plus dix ou douze, et tous seront en état de se suffire. Telle

personne qui, les privilèges abolis, ne bâtirait jamais un théâtre

nouveau, avec un privilège en bâtira un immédiatement. On a donc bien

tort de s'effrayer du régime de la liberté!

M. SCRIBE.--Mon confrère, avec la liberté illimitée, nous promet, d'ici

à deux ans, une vingtaine de banqueroutes au bout desquelles il restera

dix ou douze théâtres; je demande qu'on établisse tout de suite les

dix ou douze théâtres, avant d'avoir laissé se consommer la ruine d'un

millier de familles.

Où serait le mal, lorsque tant de petits théâtres _immoraux_

disparaîtraient, et que, pour compenser leur disparition, il y aurait

trois théâtres français et quatre théâtres lyriques?

Imposez des conditions au privilège, et vous verrez que vous aurez

les avantages de la liberté sans en avoir les inconvénients. On a

expérimenté tous les abus du régime du privilège, on peut donc y porter

remède. La liberté illimitée, vous ne la connaissez pas,--ou, du moins,

vous ne la connaissez pas suffisamment: c'est un abîme.

Je ne saurais admettre cette opinion de M. Dumas, que, d'une manière

absolue, les meilleurs théâtres sont ceux qui gagnent le plus d'argent,

et qui font vivre le plus de monde; je dirai, au contraire, que ces

théâtres-là sont souvent les mauvais. On ne gagne pas beaucoup d'argent

avec les pièces vraiment littéraires; on réussit souvent mieux à en

gagner avec des excentricités, des attaques contre la morale et le

gouvernement. Avec la liberté, l'industrialisme conduira de plus en

plus loin dans cette voie déplorable.

M. DUMAS.--Les attaques contre le gouvernement, on les réprimera par

les lois. M. Scribe exagère, d'ailleurs, quand il dit que ces attaques

sont les meilleurs moyens de succès pour un théâtre: le public, la

plupart du temps, fait prompte justice des attaques contre la morale;

les attaques contre le gouvernement ne l'entraînent qu'un instant,

quand elles l'entraînent.

M. Scribe fait trop bon marché des petits théâtres; l'immoralité ne

leur est pas inhérente, et l'art ne leur est pas toujours étranger: il

y a de l'art jusque dans les pantomimes et dans la danse. Ces théâtres,

d'ailleurs, font vivre bien des artistes, bien des familles!

M. le président prie M. Souvostre d'exposer son opinion.

M. ÉMILE SOUVESTRE.--Je suis désolé de ne pouvoir adopter complètement

aucune des opinions qu'ont émises jusqu'ici mes confrères.

Je ne crois point, comme M. Alexandre Dumas, que l'art et l'industrie

théâtrale soient toujours mêlés, et que là où réussit l'industrie,

l'art prospère toujours. Je ne crois pas, comme M. Scribe, qu'il faille

mépriser complètement et abandonner l'intérêt de l'industrie là où il

n'y a pas d'intérêt d'art.

Un privilège n'a pas de raison d'exister lorsqu'il ne procure pas,

soit un profit au gouvernement, soit un bénéfice moral ou intellectuel

à la nation. Or, c'est le cas de la plupart des privilèges de théâtre

actuellement concédés. Est-ce un monopole qui fasse gagner de l'argent

au gouvernement? Non. Ce monopole sert-il à l'avancement moral ou

intellectuel? La plupart des théâtres agissent en sens contraire de

ce progrès. Je voudrais qu'on fît une distinction entre les théâtres

qui sont utiles à la conservation et à l'avancement de l'art, à

l'instruction, à la moralisation du peuple, et ceux qui ne sont

purement qu'une exploitation industrielle. Ceux-ci, comme toutes les

exploitations industrielles, devraient être abandonnés au régime de

la liberté, de la libre concurrence. Ceux de la première catégorie

seraient, au contraire, dotés, soutenus par le gouvernement; c'est son

devoir d'être leur tuteur.

Maintenir le privilège pour les théâtres purement industriels, c'est

maintenir une cause de ruine: le privilège est un hameçon avec lequel

on attire des écus pour les faire perdre; il n'est point une valeur

réelle, il n'en est que le fantôme. A cause de l'espèce de fascination

qu'il exerce, il fait fonder des théâtres là où ils ne peuvent réussir;

il accumule toutes les charges des exploitations successives, et

entretient ainsi une ruine permanente. Ces charges ne seraient point

transmises dans une entreprise ordinaire. Si un homme a fait de

mauvaises affaires dans une filature, celui qui la lui achète prend

l'établissement pour ce qu'il vaut, et ne s'engage pas à payer les

dettes de son prédécesseur.

Je crois donc que la loi doit absolument reconnaître le principe de

la libre concurrence des théâtres purement industriels. Est-ce à dire

pour cela qu'on doive leur donner une liberté sans condition? Je ne le

crois point, et je serais des premiers à demander qu'on fixât certaines

conditions de police et de capital.

J'arrive aux théâtres qu'on peut regarder comme des écoles, des musées,

et qui seraient privilégiés en ce sens qu'ils seraient subventionnés

par l'État. Quels seraient ces théâtres? Ici, la difficulté est

sérieuse; cependant, je l'aborde.

Il y a un théâtre qui, incontestablement, a droit d'être rangé dans

cette catégorie: c'est celui qui est représenté actuellement par

le Théâtre-Français. Ce théâtre serait chargé de conserver les

chefs-d'œuvre littéraires du passé. Maintenant, à côté de ce théâtre

stationnaire, il faut un théâtre qui marche, qui innove: ce sera

le Second-Théâtre-Français; il faudra le créer dans des conditions

sérieuses de rivalité; on devra conserver, pour le genre lyrique, les

deux théâtres qui existent maintenant, l'Opéra et l'Opéra-Comique. Mais

ils ne suffisent pas, on le disait tout à l'heure à la commission.

Le gouvernement crée, chaque année, des compositeurs auxquels il ne

donne ni ne laisse les moyens de faire jouer leurs œuvres. Il faut un

troisième théâtre lyrique. Ce ne doit pas être simplement une doublure

des deux autres. Il y a une chose qui me paraît trop oubliée dans

toute cette question, c'est le peuple. Vous subventionnez des théâtres

pour l'art pur, et le peuple, dont l'éducation musicale n'est pas

suffisante pour qu'il comprenne nos grands opéras, vous l'abandonnez

à lui-même, vous ne faites rien pour lui. Je voudrais que le peuple

eût son Théâtre-Français et son Grand-Opéra réunis dans la même salle,

c'est-à-dire qu'il eût un théâtre où l'on ne jouerait que les œuvres,

soit lyriques, soit purement dramatiques, hors de discussion au point

de vue de l'art et de la morale.

Si l'on ne crée pas ce théâtre,--soit sous le régime de la liberté,

soit avec le régime du privilège,--on arrivera à une démoralisation

successive, à une décadence intellectuelle des masses par le théâtre.

En effet, il est bien plus facile d'attirer la foule avec les mauvaises

passions qu'avec les bons exemples; de sorte que vous verrez toujours

les théâtres dangereux, c'est-à-dire ceux qui out une direction

subversive de l'ordre véritable, l'emporter sur les bons, c'est-à-dire

sur les théâtres utiles, sur les théâtres où l'on se respecte, et

où l'on respecte l'art. Ce résultat se produira sous le régime du

privilège aussi facilement que sous celui de la liberté; car le

gouvernement n'a pas plus d'action sur la direction intellectuelle des

théâtres privilégiés qu'il n'en aurait sur celle des théâtres libres.

Voyez ce qui se passe au Vaudeville. Une administration gratifiée d'un

privilège de la République attaque impunément la République chaque

soir. Vous connaissez, messieurs, ces pièces qu'on a osé décorer du nom

d_'aristophanesques._ Comme c'est la première fois qu'on promène sur

notre scène les images vivantes des hommes publics, que sur notre scène

l'on bafoue grossièrement les plus hautes personnifications du pouvoir

national, et les institutions qui régissent la France, le public vient

en foule. Est-ce là un moyen honnête de faire prospérer un théâtre?

Quand Aristophane faisait des comédies, il était le représentant de

la liberté de la pensée, et non de l'industrie. Son théâtre, c'était,

à Athènes, la liberté de la presse; ce n'était point une exploitation;

ses attaques acerbes, c'était l'acte d'un citoyen, et non le talent

d'un manufacturier. C'est donc en vain que l'on s'abrite derrière un

grand nom pour cacher les tristes spéculations du privilège aux abois.

Il y a utilité pour l'honneur de la France à ce que le gouvernement ne

laisse point complètement l'art dramatique à l'industrie, et le moyen

le plus puissant de l'arracher à son matérialisme, c'est d'apporter

un soin tout particulier à l'organisation des théâtres d'art, et

principalement des théâtres populaires. Il faudrait surtout composer

avec un grand soin les comités chargés de juger les pièces; jusqu'à

présent, ils l'ont été, en général, dans les grands théâtres avec

assez de négligence. On a pris d'ordinaire des personnes appartenant

à l'administration théâtrale, des académiciens représentant le passé

plutôt que le présent, enfin des comédiens. Les académiciens se

retirent promptement; le comité se dépeuple; bientôt il ne reste plus

du tribunal primitif que les juges qui n'ont rien de mieux à faire, et

ce ne sont pas les meilleurs.

De pareils comités ne conviennent pas au but que doivent atteindre les

théâtres subventionnés: il en faut de plus sérieux. Les comités ne

seront sérieux qu'autant qu'il y aura une pénalité pour ceux de leurs

membres qui manqueraient aux séances. Je voudrais que leurs membres

fussent non-seulement des administrateurs de théâtre, des auteurs, des

comédiens, mais aussi des artistes, des gens du monde. Des sensations

de ce public varié, quoique restreint, il résulterait un jugement

qui serait probablement le précurseur certain du jugement du public

véritable. Pour me résumer, voici ce que je souhaiterais:

Liberté de l'industrie théâtrale; création de théâtres d'art,

littéraires et lyriques, subventionnés par le gouvernement, et soumis à

une constitution nouvelle;

Création d'un théâtre populaire, également subventionné, et destiné

à faire cultiver la morale, le patriotisme et l'art parmi les

travailleurs.

M. SCRIBE.--J'admets la plupart des idées de M. Souvestre; elles me

semblent généreuses et de nature à ce que leur application soit utile

pour les populations et pour l'art: j'entends parler surtout de celles

qui sont relatives à la constitution des théâtres subventionnés. Je

dois ajouter que l'application de ses idées me paraît difficile avec le

système de la liberté, très-facile avec le système du privilège.

M. SOUVESTRE.--J'ai dit les motifs qui m'out fait combattre le

système du privilège. Fût-il plus facile d'appliquer à ce système ma

proposition sur les théâtres subventionnés, je le repousserais; mais je

ne vois aucune difficulté à concilier ma proposition avec le système

de la liberté industrielle. Je veux que le gouvernement décide ce

qu'il faut organiser de théâtres subventionnés, mais non ce qu'il faut

organiser de théâtres en général; je ne veux pas qu'il intervienne dans

ce qui relève seulement de la spéculation, qu'il impose à l'industrie

théâtrale son jugement, qu'il décide qu'il ne peut y avoir que tant

de scènes jouant tels genres, ouvertes dans tels quartiers. Laissez

l'intérêt mercantile décider ces questions de spéculation, vous qui

gouvernez; vous n'avez à vous occuper que de deux choses: l'art et le

peuple.

Dans l'état actuel, le pouvoir préjuge quels sont les théâtres qui

peuvent vivre, et le résultat prouve combien de fois il s'est trompé;

laissez l'expérience porter ce jugement. Avec la liberté, les théâtres

qui n'ont pas de raison d'être tomberont; ceux qui out une aptitude

réelle à vivre resteront seuls debout.

Les Lacédémoniens jetaient dans un gouffre les enfants qui ne leur

paraissaient pas viables; ils risquaient d'y jeter Léonidas. Ne faites

pas comme eux; mais, comme les Athéniens, laissez tout le monde essayer

l'existence:--le temps décidera qui doit vivre qui doit mourir.

Cette merveilleuse improvisation parut produire le plus grand effet sur

le conseil d'État; par malheur, le résultat prouva que l'émotion avait

été aussi passagère que profonde!

C'était au tour d'Hugo de parler. Il se leva.

M. VICTOR HUGO.--Mon opinion sur la matière qui se discute maintenant

devant la commission est anciennement connue; je l'ai même en partie

publiée. J'y persiste plus que jamais. Le temps où elle prévaudra n'est

pas encore venu. Cependant, comme, dans ma conviction profonde, le

principe de la liberté doit finir par triompher sur tous les points,

j'attache de l'importance à la manière sérieuse dont la commission du

conseil d'État étudie les questions qui lui sont soumises; ce travail

préparatoire est utile, et je m'y associe volontiers. Je ne laisserai

échapper, pour ma part, aucune occasion de semer des germes de liberté.

Faisons notre devoir, qui est de semer les idées; le temps fera le

sien, qui est de les féconder.

Je commencerai par dire à la commission que, dans la question des

théâtres, question très-grande et très-sérieuse, il n'y a que deux

intérêts qui me préoccupent; à la vérité, ils embrassent tout: l'un

est le progrès de l'art, l'autre est l'amélioration du peuple.

J'ai dans le cœur une certaine indifférence pour les formes politiques,

et une inexprimable passion pour la liberté. Je viens de vous le dire,

la liberté est mon principe, et partout où elle m'apparaît, je plaide

ou je lutte pour elle.

Cependant, si, dans la question théâtrale, vous trouvez un moyen

qui ne soit pas la liberté, mais qui me donne le progrès de l'art

et l'amélioration du peuple, j'irai jusqu'à vous sacrifier le grand

principe pour lequel j'ai toujours combattu, je m'inclinerai et je me

tairai. Maintenant, pouvez-vous arriver à ces résultats autrement que

par la liberté?

Vous touchez, dans la matière spéciale qui vous occupe, à la grande,

à l'éternelle question qui reparaît sans cesse, et sous toutes les

formes, dans la vie de l'humanité. Les deux grands principes qui la

dominent dans leur lutte perpétuelle, la liberté, l'autorité, sont en

présence dans cette question-ci comme dans toutes les autres. Entre ces

deux principes, il vous faudra choisir, sauf ensuite à faire d'utiles

accommodements entre celui que vous choisirez et celui que vous ne

choisirez pas. Il vous faudra choisir; lequel prendrez-vous? Examinons.

Dans la question des théâtres, le principe de l'autorité a ceci pour

lui et contre lui, qu'il a déjà été expérimenté. Depuis que le théâtre

existe en France, le principe d'autorité le possède. Si l'on a constaté

ses inconvénients, on a aussi constaté ses avantages, on les connaît.

Le principe de liberté n'a pas encore été mis à l'épreuve.

M. LE PRÉSIDENT.--Il a été mis à l'épreuve de 1791 à 1806.

M. VICTOR HUGO.--Il fut proclamé en 1791, mais non réalisé; on était en

présence de la guillotine: la liberté germait alors, elle ne régnait

pas. Il ne faut point juger des effets de la liberté des théâtres par

ce qu'elle a pu produire pendant la première révolution.

Le principe de l'autorité a pu, lui, au contraire, produire tous ses

fruits; il a eu sa réalisation la plus complète dans un système où pas

un détail n'a été omis. Dans ce système, aucun spectacle ne pouvait

s'ouvrir sans autorisation. On avait été jusqu'à spécifier le nombre

de personnages qui pouvaient paraître en scène dans chaque théâtre,

jusqu'à interdire aux uns de chanter, aux autres de parler; jusqu'à

régler, en de certains cas, le costume et même le geste; jusqu'à

introduire dans les fantaisies de la scène je ne sais quelle rigueur

hiératique.

Le principe de l'autorité, réalisé si complètement, qu'a-t-il produit?

On va me parler de Louis XIV et de son grand règne. Louis XIV a porté

le principe de l'autorité, sous toutes ses formes, à son plus haut

degré de splendeur. Je n'ai à parler ici que du théâtre. Eh bien! le

théâtre du XVIIe siècle eût été plus grand sans la pression du principe

d'autorité. Ce principe a arrêté l'essor de Corneille, et froissé

son robuste génie. Molière s'y est souvent soustrait, parce qu'il

vivait dans la familiarité du grand roi, dont il avait les sympathies

personnelles. Molière n'a été si favorisé que parce qu'il était valet

de chambre tapissier de Louis XIV; il n'eût point fait sans cela

le quart de ses chefs-d'œuvre. Le sourire du maître lui permettait

l'audace. Chose bizarre à dire! c'est sa domesticité qui a fait son

indépendance: si Molière n'eût pas été libre!

Vous savez qu'un des miracles de l'esprit humain avait été déclaré

immoral par les contemporains; il fallut un ordre formel de Louis

XIV pour qu'on jouât _Tartufe._ Voilà ce qu'a fait le principe de

l'autorité dans son plus beau siècle. Je passerai sur Louis XV et

sur son temps; c'est une époque de complète dégradation pour l'art

dramatique. Je range les tragédies de Voltaire parmi les œuvres les

plus informes que l'esprit humain ait jamais produites. Si Voltaire

n'était pas, à côté de cela, un des plus beaux génies de l'humanité;

s'il n'avait pas produit, entre autres grands résultats, ce résultat

admirable de l'adoucissement des mœurs, il serait au niveau de

Campistron.