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Paris As It Was and As It Is

F >> Francis W. Blagdon >> Paris As It Was and As It Is




In no character which MOLÉ performs, does he ever fail to deserve
applause; but there is one, above all, which has infinitely added to
his reputation. It is that of the _Vieux Célibataire_ in the comedy
of the same name by COLIN D'HARLEVILLE, which he personates with a
good humoured frankness, an air of indolence and apathy, and at the
same time a grace that will drive to despair any one who shall
venture to take up this part after him. On seeing him in it, one can
scarcely believe that he is the same man who renders with such warmth
and feeling the part of _Alceste_ in the _Misanthrope_, and in the
_Suite de Molière_; but MOLÉ, imbibing his talent from nature, is
diversified like her.

Caressed by the women, associating with the most amiable persons both
of the court and the town, and, in short, idolized by the public,
till the revolution, no performer led a more agreeable life than
MOLÉ. However, he was not proscribed through it, and this was his
fault. Not having been imprisoned like the other actors of the old
_Comédie Française_, he had no share in their triumph on their
reappearance, and it even required all his talent to maintain his
ground; but, as it appears that no serious error could be laid to his
charge, and as every thing is forgotten in the progress of events, he
resumed part of his ascendency. I shall terminate this article or
panegyric, call it which you please, by observing that whenever MOLÉ
shall retire from the _Théâtre Français_, and his age precludes a
contrary hope, the best stock-pieces can no longer be acted.[1]

FLEURY. A man can no more be a comedian in spite of Thalia than a
poet in spite of Minerva. Of this FLEURY affords a proof. This actor
is indebted to the revolution for the reputation he now enjoys; but
what is singular, it is not for having shewn himself the friend of
that great political convulsion. Nature has done little for him. His
appearance is common; his countenance, stern; his voice, hoarse; and
his delivery, embarrassed; so much so that he speaks only by
splitting his syllables. A stammering lover! MOLÉ, it is true,
sometimes indulged in a sort of stammer, but it was suited to the
moment, and not when he had to express the ardour of love. A lover,
such as is represented to us in all French comedies, is a being
highly favoured by Nature, and FLEURY shews him only as much
neglected by her. A great deal of assurance and a habit of the stage,
a warmth which proceeds from the head only, and a sort of art to
disguise his defects, with him supply the place of talent. Although
naturally very heavy, he strives to appear light and airy in the
parts of _petits-maîtres_, and his great means of success consist in
turning round on his heel. He was calculated for playing _grims_
(which I shall soon explain), and he proves this truth in the little
comedy of _Les Deux Pages_, taken from the life of the king of
Prussia, the great Frederic, of whose caricature he is the living
model. He wished to play capital parts, the parts of MOLÉ, and he
completely failed. He ventured to appear in the _Inconstant_, in
which MOLÉ is captivating, and it was only to his disgrace. Being
compelled to relinquish this absurd pretension, he now confines
himself to new or secondary parts, in the former of which he has to
dread no humiliating comparison, and the latter are not worthy to be
mentioned.

Friends within and without the theatre, and the spirit of party,
have, however, brought FLEURY into fashion. He will, doubtless,
preserve his vogue; for, in Paris, when a man has once got a name, he
may dispense with talent:

"_Des réputations; on ne sait pourquoi!"

says GRESSET, the poet, in his comedy of _Le Méchant_, speaking of
those which are acquired in the capital of France.

BAPTISTE the elder. But for the revolution, he too would, in all
probability, never have figured on the _Théâtre Français_. When all
privileges were abolished, a theatre was opened in the _Rue Culture
St. Catherine_ in Paris, and BAPTISTE was sent for from Rouen to
perform the first parts. In _Robert Chef des Brigands_ and _La Mère
Coupable_, two _drames_, the one almost as full of improbabilities as
the other, he had great success; but in _Le Glorieux_ he acquired a
reputation almost as gigantic as his stature, and as brilliant as his
coat covered with spangles. This was the part in which BELLECOURT
excelled, and which had been respected even by MOLÉ. The latter at
length appeared in it; but irony, which is the basis of this
character, was not his talent: yet MOLÉ having seen the court, and
knowing in what manner noblemen conducted themselves, BAPTISTE had an
opportunity of correcting himself by him in the part of _Le
Glorieux_.

The _Théâtre Français_ being in want of a performer for such
characters, BAPTISTE was called in. Figure to yourself the person of
Don Quixote, and you will have an idea of that of this actor, whose
countenance, however, is unmeaning, and whose voice seems to issue
from the mouth of a speaking-trumpet.


Jeunes premiers, _or young lovers, in Comedy_.

ST. FAL, DUPONT, DAMAS, and ARMAND.

One might assemble what is best in these four actors, without making
one perfect _lover_. I have already spoken of the first three, who,
in comedy, have nearly the same defects as in tragedy. As for the
fourth, he is young; but unfortunately for him, he has no other
recommendation.


_Characters of_ Grims, _or_ Rôles à manteau.[2]

GRANDMÉNIL and CAUMONT.

GRANDMÉNIL. This performer is, perhaps, the only one who has
preserved what the French critics call _la tradition_, that is, a
traditionary knowledge of the old school, or of the style in which
players formerly acted, and especially in the time of MOLIÈRE. This
would be an advantage for him, but for a defect which it is not in
his power to remedy; for what avails justness of diction when a
speaker can no longer make himself heard? And this is the case with
GRANDMÉNIL. However, I would advise you to see him in the character
of the _Avare_ (in MOLIÈRE'S comedy of that name) which suits him
perfectly. By placing yourself near the stage, you might lose nothing
of the truth and variety of his delivery, as well as of the play of
his countenance, which is facilitated by his excessive meagreness,
and to which his sharp black eyes give much vivacity.

GRANDMÉNIL is member of the National Institute.

CAUMONT. He possesses that in which his principal in this cast of
parts is deficient, and little more. One continually sees the efforts
he makes to be comic, which sufficiently announces that he is not
naturally so. However, he has a sort of art, which consists in
straining his acting a little without overcharging it.


_Parts of Valets_.

DUGAZON, DAZINCOURT, and LAROCHELLE.

DUGAZON. One may say much good and much ill of this actor, and yet be
perfectly correct. He has no small share of warmth and comic humour.
He plays sometimes as if by inspiration; but more frequently too he
charges his parts immoderately. PRÉVILLE, who is no common authority,
said of DUGAZON: "How well he can play, if he is in the humour!" He
is but seldom in the humour, and when he is requested not to
overcharge his parts, 'tis then that he charges them most. Not that
he is a spoiled child of the public; for they even treat him
sometimes with severity. True it is that he is reproached for his
conduct during the storms of the revolution. Although advanced in
years, he became Aide-de-camp to SANTERRE.----SANTERRE! An execrable
name, and almost generally execrated! Is then a mixture of horror and
ridicule one of the characteristics of the revolution? And must a
painful remembrance come to interrupt a recital which ought to recall
cheerful ideas only? In his quality of Aide-de-camp to the Commandant
of the national guard of Paris, DUGAZON was directed to superintend
the interment of the unfortunate Lewis XVI, and in order to consume
in an instant the body of that prince, whose pensioner he had been,
he caused it to be placed in a bed of quick lime. No doubt, DUGAZON
did no more than execute the orders he received; but he was to blame
in putting himself in a situation to receive them.

Not to return too abruptly to the tone which suits an article wherein
I am speaking of actors playing comic parts, I shall relate a
circumstance which had well nigh become tragic, in regard to DUGAZON,
and which paints the temper of the time when it took place. Being an
author as well as an actor, DUGAZON had written a little comedy,
entitled _Le Modéré_. It was his intention to depress the quality
indicated by the title. However, he was thought to have treated his
subject ill, and, after all, to have made his _modéré_ an honest man.
In consequence of this opinion, at the very moment when he was coming
off the stage, after having personated that character in his piece,
he was apprehended and taken to prison.

DAZINCOURT. In no respect can the same reproaches be addressed to him
as to DUGAZON; but as to what concerns the art, it may be said that
if DUGAZON goes beyond the mark, DAZINCOURT falls short of it.
PRÉVILLE said of the latter as a comedian: "Leaving pleasantry out of
the question, DAZINCOURT is well enough." Nothing can be added to the
opinion of that great master.

LAROCHELLE. He has warmth, truth, and much comic humour; but is
sometimes a little inclined to charge his parts. He has a good stage
face. It appears that he can only perform parts not overlong, as his
voice easily becomes hoarse. This is a misfortune both for himself
and the public; for he really might make a good comedian.

There are a few secondary actors in the comic line, such as BAPTISTE
the younger, who performs in much too silly a manner his parts of
simpletons, and one DUBLIN, who is the ostensible courier; not to
speak of some others, whose parts are of little importance.


_January 22, in continuation,_


_Principal female Characters, in Comedy._

Mesdemoiselles CONTAT, and MÉZERAY.--Madame TALMA.

Mademoiselle CONTAT. This actress has really brought about a
revolution in the theatre. Before her time, the essential requisites
for the parts which she performs, were sensibility, decorum,
nobleness, and dignity, even in diction, as well as in gestures, and
deportment. Those qualities are not incompatible with the grace, the
elegance of manners, and the playfulness also required by those
characters, the principal object of which is to interest and please,
which ought only to touch lightly on comic humour, and not be
assimilated to that of chambermaids, as is done by Mademoiselle
CONTAT. A great coquette, for instance, like _Célimène_ in the
_Misanthrope_, ought not to be represented as a girl of the town, nor
_Madame de Clainville_, in the pretty little comedy of _La Gageure_,
as a shopkeeper's wife.

The innovation made by Mademoiselle CONTAT was not passed over
without remonstrance. Those strict judges, those conservators of
rules, those arbiters of taste, in short, who had been long in the
habit of frequenting the theatre, protested loudly against this new
manner of playing the principal characters. "That is not becoming!"
exclaimed they incessantly: which signified "that is not the truth!"
But what could the feeble remonstrances of the old against the warm
applause of the young?

Mademoiselle CONTAT had a charming person, of which you may still be
convinced. She was not then, as she is now, overloaded with
_embonpoint_, and, though rather inclined to stoop, could avail
herself of the advantages of an elevated stature. None of the
resources of the toilet were neglected by her, and for a long time
the most elegant women in Paris took the _ton_ for dress from
Mademoiselle CONTAT. Besides, she always had a delicacy of
discrimination in her delivery, and a varied sprightliness in the
_minutiæ_ of her acting. Her voice, though sometimes rather shrill,
is not deficient in agreeableness, but is easily modulated, except
when it is necessary for her to express feeling. The inferiority of
Mademoiselle CONTAT on this head is particularly remarkable when she
plays with MOLÉ. In a very indifferent comedy, called _Le Jaloux sans
amour_, at the conclusion of which the husband entreats his wife to
pardon his faults, MOLÉ contrives to find accents so tender, so
affecting; he envelops his voice, as it were, with sounds so soft, so
mellow, and at the same time so delicate, that the audience, fearing
to lose the most trifling intonation, dare not draw their breath.
Mademoiselle CONTAT replies, and, although she has to express the
same degree of feeling, the charm is broken.

Being aware that the want of nobleness and sensibility was a great
obstacle to her success, this actress endeavoured to insure it by
performing characters which require not those two qualities. The
first she selected for her purpose was _Susanne_ in the _Mariage de
Figaro_. _Susanne_ is an elegant and artful chambermaid; and
Mademoiselle CONTAT possessed every requisite for representing well
the part. She had resigned the principal character in the piece to
Mademoiselle SAINVAL the younger, an actress who was celebrated in
tragedy, but had never before appeared in comedy. On this occasion, I
saw Mademoiselle SAINVAL play that ungracious part with a truth, a
grace, a nobleness, a dignity, a perfection in short, of which no
idea had yet been entertained in Paris.

Another part in which Mademoiselle CONTAT also rendered herself
famous, is that of _Madame Evrard_, in the _Vieux Célibataire_.
--_Madame Evrard_ is an imperious, cunning, and roguish housekeeper;
and this actress has no difficulty in seizing the _ton_ suitable to
such a character. This could not be done by one habituated to a more
noble manner. Mademoiselle CONTAT has not followed the impulse of
Nature, who intended her for the characters of _soubrettes_; but,
when she made her _début_, there were in that cast of parts three or
four women not deficient in merit, and it would have taken her a long
time to make her way through them.

The parts which Mademoiselle CONTAT plays at present with the
greatest success are those in the pieces of MARIVAUX, which all bear
a strong resemblance, and the nature of which she alters; for it is
also one of her defects to change always the character drawn by the
author. The reputation enjoyed by this actress is prodigious; and
such a _critique_ as the one I am now writing would raise in Paris a
general clamour. Her defects, it is true, are less prominent at this
day, when hereditary rank is annihilated; and merit, more than
manners, raises men to the highest stations. Besides, it is a
presumption inherent in the Parisians to believe that they never can
be mistaken. To reason with them on taste is useless; it is
impossible to compel them to retract when they have once said "_Cela
est charmant_."

Before I take leave of Mademoiselle CONTAT, I shall observe that
there exists in the _Théâtre Français_ a little league, of which she
is the head. Besides herself, it is composed of Mademoiselle
DEVIENNE, DAZINCOURT, and FLEURY. I am confidently assured that the
choice and reception of pieces, and the _début_ of performers depend
entirely on them. As none of them possess all the requisites for
their several casts of parts, they take care to play no other than
pieces of an equivocal kind, in which neither _bon ton_, nor _vis
comica_ is to be found. They avoid, above all, those of MOLIÈRE and
REGNARD, and are extremely fond of the comedies of MARIVAUX, in which
masters and lackies express themselves and act much alike. The unison
is then perfect, and some people call this _de l'ensemble_, as if any
could result from such a confusion of parts of an opposite nature. As
for new pieces, the members of the league must have nothing but
_papillotage_ (as the French call it), interspersed with allusions to
their own talent, which the public never fail to applaud. When an
author has inserted such compliments in his piece, he is sure of its
being received, but not always of its being successful; for when the
ground is bad, the tissue is good for nothing.

Mademoiselle MÉZERAY. She is of the school of Mademoiselle CONTAT,
whence have issued only feeble pupils. But she is very pretty, and
has the finest eyes imaginable. She plays the parts of young
coquettes, in which her principal dares no longer appear. Without
being vulgar in her manner, one cannot say that she has dignity. As
for sensibility, she expresses it still less than Mademoiselle
CONTAT. However, the absence of this sentiment is a defect which is
said to be now common among the French. Indeed, if it be true that
they are fickle, and this few will deny, the feeling they possess
cannot be lasting.

Madame TALMA. I have already spoken of her merits as a comic actress,
when I mentioned her as a tragedian.


_Parts of young Lovers._

Mesdemoiselles MARS, BOURGOIN, and GROS.

Mademoiselle MARS. She delivers in an ingenuous manner innocent
parts, and those of lovers. She has modest graces, an interesting
countenance, and appears exceedingly handsome on the stage. But she
will never be a true actress.

Mademoiselle BOURGOIN. She has some disposition for comedy, which she
neglects, and has none for tragedy, in which she is ambitious to
figure. I have already alluded to her beauty, which is that of a
pretty _grisette_.

Mademoiselle GROS. She is the pupil of DUGAZON, and made her _début_
in tragedy. The newspaper-writers transformed her into Melpomene, yet
so rapid was her decline, that presently she was scarcely more than a
waiting woman to Thalia.


Characters, _or foolish Mothers_.

Mesdemoiselles LACHAISSAIGNE and THÉNARD.

The latter of these titles explains the former. In fact, this cast of
parts consists of _characters_, that is, foolish or crabbed old
women, antiquated dowagers in love, &c. Commonly, these parts are
taken up by actresses grown too old for playing _soubrettes_; but to
perform them well, requires no trifling share of comic humour; for,
in general, they are charged with it. At the present day, this
department may be considered as vacant. Mademoiselle LACHAISSAIGNE,
who is at the head of it, is very old, and never had the requisites
for performing in it to advantage. Mademoiselle THÉNARD begins to
_double_ her in this line of acting, but in a manner neither more
sprightly nor more captivating.


_Parts of_ Soubrettes _or Chambermaids_.

Mesdemoiselles DEVIENNE and DESBROSSES.

Mademoiselle DEVIENNE. If Mademoiselle CONTAT changes the principal
characters in comedy into those of chambermaids, Mademoiselle
DEVIENNE does the contrary, and from the same motive, namely, because
she is deficient in the requisites for her cast of parts, such as
warmth, comic truth, and vivacity. Yet, while she assumes the airs of
a fine lady, she takes care to dwell on the slightest _équivoque_; so
that what would be no more than gay in the mouth of another woman, in
hers becomes indecent. As she is a mannerist in her acting, some
think it perfect, and they say too that she is charming. However, she
must have been very handsome.

Mademoiselle DESBROSSES. The public say nothing of her, and I think
this is all she can wish for.

* * * * *

I have now passed in review before you those who are charged to
display to advantage the dramatic riches bequeathed to the French
nation by CORNEILLE, RACINE, MOLIÈRE, CRÉBILLON, VOLTAIRE, REGNARD,
&c. &c. &c. If it be impossible to squander them, at least they may
at present be considered as no more than a buried treasure. Although
the _chefs d'oeuvre_ of those masters of the stage are still
frequently represented, and the public even appear to see them with
greater pleasure than new pieces, they no longer communicate that
electric fire which inflames genius, and (if I may use the
expression) renders it productive. A great man can, it is true,
create every thing himself; but there are minds which require an
impulse to be set in motion. Without a CORNEILLE, perhaps the French
nation would not have had a RACINE.

Formerly, people went to the _Théâtre Français_ in order to hear, as
it were, a continual course of eloquence, elocution, and
pronunciation. It even had the advantage over the pulpit and the bar,
where vivacity of expression was prohibited or restricted. Many a
sacred or profane orator came hither, either privately or publicly,
to study the art by which great actors, at pleasure, worked on the
feelings of the audience, and charmed their very soul. It was, above
all, at the _Théâtre Français_ that foreigners might have learned to
pronounce well the French language. The audience shuddered at the
smallest fault of pronunciation committed by a performer, and a
thousand voices instantly corrected him. At the present day, the
comedians insist that it belongs to them alone to form rules on this
point, and they now and then seem to vie with each other in despising
those already established. The audience being perhaps too indulgent,
they stand uncorrected.

Whether or not the _Théâtre Français_ will recover its former fame,
is a question which Time alone can determine. Undoubtedly, many
persons of a true taste and an experienced ear have disappeared, and
no one now seems inclined to say to the performers: "That is the
point which you must attain, and at which you must stop, if you wish
not to appear deficient, or to overact your part." But the fact is,
they are without a good model, and the spectators, in general, are
strangers to the _minutiæ/i> of dramatic excellence. In tragedy,
indeed, I am inclined to think that there never existed at the
_Théâtre Français_ such a deficiency of superior talents. When LEKAIN
rose into fame, there were not, I have been told, any male performers
who went as far as himself, though several possessed separately the
qualifications necessary for that line. However, there was
Mademoiselle DUMESNIL, a pupil of nature, from whom he might learn to
express all the passions; while from Mademoiselle CLAIRON he might
snatch all the secrets of art.

As for Comedy, it is almost in as desperate a situation. The _ton_ of
society and that of comedians may have a reciprocal influence, and
the revolution having tended to degrade the performance of the
latter, the consequences may recoil on the former. But here I must
stop.--I shall only add that it is not to the revolution that the
decline of the art, either in tragedy or comedy, is to be imputed. It
is, I understand, owing to intrigue, which has, for a long time past,
introduced pitiful performers on the stage of the _Théâtre Français_,
and to a multiplicity of other causes which it would be too tedious
to discuss, or even to mention. Notwithstanding the encomiums daily
lavished on the performers by the venal pen of newspaper writers, the
truth is well known here on this subject. Endeavours are made by the
government to repair the mischief by forming pupils; but how are they
to be formed without good masters or good models?

[Footnote 1: It must grieve every admirer of worth and talent to hear
that MOLÉ is now no more. Not long since he paid the debt of nature.
As an actor, it is more than probable that "we ne'er shall look on
his like again."]

[Footnote 2: The word _Grim_, in French theatrical language, is
probably derived from _grimace_, and the expression of _Rôles à
manteau_ arises from the personages which they represent being old
men, who generally appear on the stage with a cloak.]



LETTER LVI.

_Paris, January 24, 1802._

Among the customs introduced here since the revolution, that of women
appearing in public in male attire is very prevalent. The more the
Police endeavours to put a stop to this extravagant whim, the more
some females seek excuses for persisting in it: the one makes a
pretext of business which obliges her to travel frequently, and
thinks she is authorized to wear men's clothes as being more
convenient on a journey; another, of truly-elegant form, dresses
herself in this manner, because she wishes to attract more notice by
singularity, without reflecting that, in laying aside her proper
garb, she loses those feminine graces, the all-seductive
accompaniments of beauty. Formerly, indeed, nothing could tend more
to disguise the real shape of a woman than the

COSTUME OF THE FRENCH LADIES.

A head-dress, rising upwards of half a yard in height, seemed to
place her face near the middle of her body; her stomach was
compressed into a stiff case of whalebone, which checked respiration,
and deprived her almost of the power of eating; while a pair of
cumbersome hoops, placed on her hips, gave to her petticoats the
amplitude of a small elliptical, inflated balloon. Under these
strange accoutrements, it would, at first sight, almost have puzzled
BUFFON himself to decide in what species such a female animal should
be classed. However, this is no longer an enigma.

With the parade of a court, all etiquette of dress disappeared.
Divested of their uncouth and unbecoming habiliments, the women
presently adopted a style of toilet not only more advantageous to the
display of their charms, but also more analogous to modern manners.

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