Memoirs Of Rachel

Front matter

MADAME DE B—.

NEW YORK:

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,

Preface

iii

mistress for one of the earth earthy: Marion Delorme could not be expected to become the chaste and heroic Pauline , nor could La Tisbe exchange the fanciful garb of the Venetian courtesan to assume with the Homan robes the Eoman feelings of a Junia.

The Drama was triumphant; the Tragic Muse, still beautiful in her solitude and sadness, her rent and worn mantle ill concealing her poverty, her crown shivered, her proud throne mocked and defaced, her tears unseen, her sighs unheeded, in forsaken, still imperial majesty, the Great Relic of a Great Past, was preparing to flee forever from the ingrate land that now worshiped a usurper, when the hand of a child arrested her flight, and, for a brief space, restored her empire.

Three fourths of the following pages were written during the life of the celebrated woman whose career constitutes then subject. As the work drew to a close, the tomb opened to receive her who for eighteen years had been the pride of the French stage. But the event that has cast so deep a gloom over the prospects of clas¬ sic art, depriving it of its sole support, can make no dif¬ ference in a work in which neither posthumous flattery nor detraction find a place. Even the truth due to the dead should be spoken within certain limits. When the faults and errors of one who attained so high a rank as an artiste are trumpeted by the tongue of malice, or hinted at by the conscientious biographer, the reader must bear in mind the sphere in which she was born and passed her early youth, the intoxicating influence of unexpected fame and opulence, the bewildering effect of the sudden transition from the society of the low, the ignorant, and vulgar, to that of the most high-bred, ed¬ ucated, and aristocratic of the land, the satiety and wea¬ riness that the prompt fulfillment of every wish soon brought with it, the nervously irritable and constitution¬ ally frail organization of the being who was constantly called upon to personify the most violent and wearing

IV passions; let us not then -wonder that her aspirations to¬ ward the good and the beautiful were often followed by no results, that the creature so richly endowed by prod¬ igal Xature, so powerfully sustained by Fortune, should not hare been uniformly great, and that blemishes should have darkened her finest traits.

Yet, with all her imperfections, it will be long ere the world shall see another Eachel, the stage another trage¬ dienne uniting her genius, her intuitive conception of the sublime and the beautiful, her extraordinary power of expressing what she so perfectly conceived, her grand pagan qualities, her Greek, statue-like figure, her majes¬ ty of brow and attitude, her quiet dignity of manner. The lovers of art have sustained an irreparable loss, and moumfullv exclaim,

V 9

“ There’s a great spirit gone!”

AYe have followed Rachel more especially in her pro¬ fessional career, without, however, omitting the more arduous task of speaking of her as the woman in her so¬ cial sphere: a delicate subject at all times, since it neces¬ sitates the invasion of the sanctuary of private life, re¬ vealing its mysteries to a prying public, but more espe¬ cially so in the present case.

"We have endeavored to fulfill this task so far as it was consistent with the duty of biography to record the words and actions of its subject. But there are grounds it is not our province to touch upon—grounds that are beyond the limits of even the morbid curiosity that ea¬ gerly seeks in every great work that issues from the Di¬ vine Hand the contaminating touch of the spirit of evil —grounds where the truth is too obscure to be distin¬ guished from fiction, and where, even if known, it would afford no better clew to character, would convey no les¬ son, prevent no fall.

If, then, those who delight in the indiscriminate reve¬ lations of the foibles of poor human nature take up this book in the hope of meeting with a detailed account of

PREFACE.

V the liaisons attributed to the great tragedienne , we warn them-that nothing so piquant seasons its matter-of-fact pages. Whatever could convey an idea of her character, temper, and inclinations, all that had any connection with her dramatic talent, we were bound to record; far¬ ther, we had nothing to add from the garrulous chronigue scandaleuse of the day.

If tragedy did not die when disease laid so fatal a grasp on her last interpreter, at least she sank: into so lethargic a sleep that the strenuous efforts made to arouse her have only proved their own futility and justified the triumphant pens of her adversaries. She who could revive the life, the soul, is herself gone forever. Well may we deplore the loss of the priestess who alone could rekindle <the extinct flame, and exclaim,

“Si Pergama dextra

CHAPTER I. Parentage.—Abraham Felix and Esther Haya.—Characteristics of the

Father reflected in the Daughter.—Nomade Life.—Birth-place, early Childhood, and Pursuits.Page 13

Chapter II. 1830-1837

Paris.—A lucky Meeting.—Mr. Choron.—The Cours St. Aulaire.— Rachel at Thirteen.—Narrative of Salema. —An old Umbrella for Racine. — “Le Legataire Universel.”—Precocious Actress.—The Conservatoire.—Conflicting Opinions.—A Judge at Fault.—Unfa¬ vorable Prognostics. — “Sell Bouquets, girl, sell Bouquets.”—An important Role.—A great Step in Life. 17

Chapter III

The Gymnase.—La Vendeenne.—The first Criticism.—Jules Janin. —Boufte.—An odd little Thing.—Jewish Esprit de Corps. —Rachel and Sanson..25

CHAPTER IY.

The Theatre Fran§ais.—Three Months of negative Success.—“Ca¬ mille.”—“Hermione.”—“Emilie.”—An unknown Admirer.—Doc¬ tor Veron.—Appearance of Rachel at that Time.—The Prince of Crit¬ ics.—A less enthusiastic Admirer.—Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, Titus, and Berenice, in brocade, flowing wigs, and small swords ... 32

Chapter V. 1838-1839

Enthusiasm of the Public.—Louis Philippe and Rachel.—Royal Munifi¬ cence in past and present Times.—An Increase of Salary.—System of Starring and its ill Effects.— Monime .—Behind the Curtains ; La Rue Traversiere.—A Step upward in private Life.—Peace broken between the Sodetaires and the Pet of the Public.—Bajazet; a crit¬ ical Moment.—Reminiscences of Mademoiselle Mars.—Artistic Mag¬ nanimity and Vanity. 37

CONTENTS.

viii

Chapter VI

A Step higher in private Life.—The maimed Strident and a Scene in “Les Horaces.” — The Friendship of the Great.—L’Abbaye aux Bois.—Madame Recamier.—The Jewish Actress and a Dignitary of the Church.—A Stranger to Venus.—Rachel in Comedy.— “Esther”.Page 49

Chapter VII

Artistic Career.—First Period one of constant Struggle and arduous Toil.—Eminent Critics of the Day.—Granier de Cassagnac.—Jules Janin.—Theophile Gauthier.—Edouard Thierry.—The Public be¬ comes exacting.—Incident at a Soiree.—Rachel at Eighteen.—Tax¬ ed with want of real Feeling.—Tact.—Manners.—Delicate Health. —Solicitude of the Public.57

Chapter VIII

Alarming Incident. — Three Plays revived this Tear: “Nicomede,” “Polyeucte,” and “Marie Stuart.”—Benefit of Mademoiselle Thenard at Versailles.—"Why Racine is generally preferred to Corneille. —Mademoiselle Rachel as Pauline.—Commences her Tour through the Provinces. — Debut at Rouen.—Letter to the Manager. —The Medallion of “my second Father.”—Success at Lyons, &c., &c.— Reappearance at the Theatre Framjais.—Indifference of the Public for the classical Drama.—Artistic Selfishness...67

Chapter IX

Engagement for one Tear signed with the Theatre Franqais.—Father and Teacher.— Debuts in England.—Victoria to Mademoiselle Ra¬ chel.—Andromaque mistaken for Hermione.—Rachel at Windsor.— Return to Paris.—Increasing Splendors.—Rachel a thorough Cos¬ mopolitan.—A Rival!—Contest for the scenic Sceptre: “Marie Stu¬ art.”—Rachel and Elizabeth.—Maxime.—Phedre keeping furnished Lodgings and a Table d'hote . 78

Reconciliation with the Public.—Classicists and Romanticists.—“ Virginie.”—“ Oreste”. 137

Chapter XVI

“Jeanne d’Arc.”—Rachel in Holland.—The Theatre Franqiais a Land of Promise.—Dissensions with the Management.—A Soul of Fire in an Envelope of Gauze.—Mademoiselle Clairon and the Duke of Clioiseul.—Rumored Conversion.—Cheap Proselytism.—Amenaide without a Tanerkde.—Death of Mademoiselle Mars.—-Retirement of Joanny and Mademoiselle Georges. 148

Chapter XVII

“L’Ombre de Moliere.”—“Le Vieux de laMontagne.”—“Athalie.” —“Celimfene.”—“Cleopatre”. 156

Chapter XVIII. 1.848

Mademoiselle Rachel and Mademoiselle Georges.—“Cleopatre and Rodogune.”—Influence of Revolutions on Actors.—Talma and Lai's.

Influence of the Revolution of 1848 on dramatic Literature and Theatricals.—Old Things new named.—M. de Lamartine’s Rejection

A 2

X

CONTENTS.

of the Red Flag.—Suggestions of a Workman on Theatricals.—Beranger on the Revolution.—A political Tragedienne. —“La Marseillaise.” —Le Jdeuplc of Mademoiselle Rachel in 1844 and in 1848.. Page 171

Chapter XIX

Decree of the Citizen Minister Ledru Rollin.—“Lucreee.”—Nemesis wearing the Insignia of a Commissaire de Police.—Grand National Performance.—The Blouse triumphant.—“Les Horaces.”—“Le Malade Imaginaire.”—“La Marseillaise."—Bouquet Monstre.—A Sovereign more despotic than the last.—Second grand national Per¬ formance.—Honorable Testimonial to Mademoiselle Rachel.—En¬ thusiasm at a low Ebb.—Grand Fetes and no Bread.—Theatricals under Louis Philippe and under the Provisional Government.—• Death of Yemet.—Mademoiselle Rachel in two Characters of the same Play. 183

Chapter XX

Three Months in the South of France.—Rachel a licensed Propagan¬ dist.—Visit to Madame Lafarge.—A public Confession.—A hard¬ hearted Father.—Return to Paris.—Sketch of the Organization of the Theatre Fran9ais.—The Priestess turns her back on the Temple. —A Visit of the Faculty.—An uncourteous Public. 195

Chapter XXI

A spoiled Child.—Proscription of “Cinna.”—“Le Moineau de Lesbie.”—The real Adrienne Lecouvreur.—Funeral Honors to theat¬ rical Talent in France and in England iu 1730.—The Adrienne Le¬ couvreur of Messrs. Scribe and Legouve.—A characteristic Let¬ ter. 204

Chapter XXII

Benefit of Mademoiselle Georges.—The Thespian Car in 1650 and in 1849 .—Phedre without Aricie .—An Audience behind the Age.—A Tune to suit all Governments.—Life in a Stage-coach.—A promised Conversion .—A Play without an Audience.—The Theatre Franqais versus Mademoiselle Rachel.—Mademoiselle Rachel condemned to sing the “Marseillaise”..... 218

CHAPTER XXHI.

Resume .—“ Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle.”—“ Angelo.”—“ Horace et Lydie .”—Conge of four Months spent almost entirely in Germany.— The peasant Aunt.—Mother and Daughter.230

CONTENTS.

XI

Chapter XXIV

State of Theatricals in 1851.—Despotic Influence of Stars and its bane¬ ful Results.—Dramatic Authors manufacturers to order.—“Valeria.” — Conge of five Months and a half.—Italy.—Successor of Saint Peter and the Children of Israel.—Rebecca.Page 239

Chapter XXV

“Diane.”—“Louise de Lignerolles.”—Invitation from the King of Prussia.—Severe Illness.—Homoeopathic Doctor.—Appearance at the new Palace of Potsdam.—Presentation to the Empress of Russia. ■—The Czar Nicholas and Mademoiselle Rachel.—Return to Paris.— Prolongation of Life.—“ Aspasie.”—“Rosemonde”. 249

Chapter XXVI

“Lady Tartuffie.”—Short summer Excursion.—An obliging Manager. —Engagement in Russia.—Permission of the Emperor, the Minister of State, and the Comedie Framjais countersigned by M. Legouve.— A diplomatic Letter.—The Author and the Actress.—Friendly Cor¬ respondence.—“Medee” asked for; “ Medee” written; “Medee” read ; “ Medee” revised and corrected; ‘ ‘ Medee” approved, received, rehearsed; “Medee” put atvay for another day.—Mademoiselle Ra¬ chel in St. Petersburg.—State of Theatricals in Russia.—A witty Reply. 259

Chapter XXVII

Return from Russia.—Prudence versus Patriotism.—M. Legouve loses Patience.—A Declaration of War before the Civil Tribunal.—Soft Words.—M. Legouve appeased.—The Spoiled Pet and the Public. —Another Quarrel patched up.—Mademoiselle Raeliel in the Clas¬ sic Repertoire at the close of her Career.—“Plibdrc.”—“ Camille.”— A Souvenir of the Past. 275

Return to New York.—Jules Janin in the Field again.—Philadelphia. — Le Commencement de la Fin. —Little family Jars.—Charleston.— The last Performance.—Maurice.—Havana. 333

Chapter XXXII

Meulan.—Hotel Rachel.—Household Gods put up at Auction.—Value set upon Souvenirs. —Ingenious Cicerones.—A Mother’s Letter.— Dear-bought Absence.—Washington’s Grandson.—A new Claim on the Theatre Franqais.—Return from Egypt.—Sojourn in Montpel¬ lier.—Rachel’s Children. 345

CHAPTER XXXni.

Concealment of Illness.—Bulletins of Health read on the Stage.—Mole. —Nicolet’s Monkey-Actors.—Departure for Cannet.—Melancholy Pilgrimage.—Cannes.—Villa at Cannet.—The Dream.—Variations in Health and Spirits.—Farandoles.—Sister Sarah.—Raphael and the Cross.—Last Autograph.—Hebrew Prayer.—Death.—Fune¬ ral ...358

Chapter I

Parentage.—Abraham Felix and Esther Haya.—Characteristics of the Father reflected in the Daughter.—Eomade Life.—Birth-place, early Childhood, and Pursuits.Page 13

Whenever it happens that an individual of low birth and obscure origin springs into notoriety by the power of genius, aided by fortuitous circumstances, the anecdote-mongers and scandal-purveyors of an insatiate public stretch their inventive faculties to the utmost verge of probability, and even of pos¬ sibility, in order to invest with all the hues of romance the in¬ fancy of the child of fame. Denuded of these fanciful addi¬ tions, the mere facts would, in the majority of cases, possess but little interest; nine out of ten of those whose genius and talent illustrate the age in which they live, and stamp on the indelible page of history the name of their possessor, have had as uninteresting and prosaic a childhood as the host of their less gifted contemporaries. The interest we take in the early days of Rachel arises, not from her having been a street-sing¬ er—we daily meet those little itinerant warblers or screechers without bestowing a thought on their past, present, or future —but from her having subsequently attained pre-eminence in a far higher sphere. As for the thousand and one anecdotes that have been circulated of her former life, few are founded on reality, and, even if we grant them all to be deserving of credit, they are such as might find their counterpart in the lives of the common run of mortals.

The elements that afford an insight into the character, the feelings, the source of inspiration, the modus operandi of the mind—these are the points that interest the judicious observ¬ er, these are the really valuable traits which we would record. Pruning the surcharged history of our heroine of all incidents

MEMOIRS OF RACHEL.

not well authenticated, we still find sufficient to corroborate our estimate of this very singular and exceptional character, and in her parentage and the circumstances that developed her talents, a clew to much that otherwise would appear unex¬ plainable.

The Felix family is of German-Rhenish origin, though Rachel’s father, a Frenchman, was born in Metz. Abraham Felix Studied in his youth with the object of becoming a rab¬ bi, but subsequently forsook sacred lore for an avocation sug¬ gested by necessity, and became a traveling peddler. A man of a rather superior order of intellect, considering his position in society, and the few opportunities afforded him for its de¬ velopment, of sound judgment and strong mind, he has never¬ theless been accused of displaying in his manners the vanity and self-sufficiency of the parvenu, and of being another in¬ stance of the fact that, whenever pecuniary interests are in question, the Jew blood is instantly on the alert, and justice and reason are unceremoniously sacrificed to the love of gain. He may be described as one of those men who, slow and me¬ thodical to a fault, and usually governed by good sense, are yet apt to give way to moments of anger, the fury of which is so ungovernable as to terrify the members of their households into a state of mute submission until the storm subsides—men who contradict, irritate, and worry the weak who are in them power, and, in so doing, lash themselves into the most unrea¬ sonable rages. This, however, in the case of Rachel’s father, happened but seldom; for, though severe, he was generally strictly just. Whatever might be the pride he felt in his daughter, he never joined with her mother, brother, and sisters in their silly and exaggerated encomiums of her talent. He never hesitated to blame openly what he did not approve, and his praise was the more valuable from the caution with which it was bestowed. His taste and instinctive knowledge of dra¬ matic art would have done honor to a veteran stager, and to his judicious advice Rachel was perhaps indebted for much of her success. Indeed, she inherited from him so many of the most striking points of her character, that some knowledge of the father’s is necessary to gain a clew to the daughter’s.

Of Rachel’s mother, Esther Haya Felix, it may be sufficient

MEMOIRS OF RACHEL.

to say that she -was a sensible, kind-hearted, and intelligent woman, who, though idolizing her children, never permitted the slightest disregard of her maternal authority. And one of the peculiar characteristics of this family—a characteristic especially rare in the present age of progress, when children are wiser than their fathers, and consign respect to age among the rubbish of a by-gone time—is the unbounded reverence with which, whatever the success that has attended their ca¬ reer, the younger members appear to have always regarded its heads. There is something very beautiful, and of a Biblical character, in the intercourse between the parents and the chil¬ dren, which reminds one of scenes in the lives of the patriarchs.

But with these higher and finer traits—these bright dashes on the canvas of this Israelite tableau—are intermingled meaner and baser ones, the foul blotches inseparable from the race, and conspicuous wherever there is a drop of the blood— sordid littleness, petty vanity, and inordinate love of show. Though at heart a good woman, Madame Felix has been ac¬ cused of carrying to a greater length than even her husband the parvenu characteristics, and to have been too apt in mat¬ ters of business to bring to her aid all the sharp, grasping, covetous nature of him who so artfully acquired his brother’s birthright. In this particular, however else they may differ, the whole family have shown but too close a similarity.

But while the littleness and foibles of the Felix family are, as we have already said, distinctive attributes of their race, it must be owned that their great and good qualities are no less its appanage. Fortitude in adversity, perseverance in the pur¬ suit of an object, religious reverence for family ties, and the esprit de corps that has sustained that race and maintained its existence through long centuries and amid antagonistic na¬ tions, have endowed this scattered remnant of a once mighty people with the strength which they lack numerically, and enabled them to maintain their long-disputed footing amid the peoples of Europe. These qualities are found unalloyed in the Felix family.

The marriage between the parents of Rachel was one of mutual affection; but the course of true love did not run smoother in their case than it does in the generality of in-

MEMOIRS OF RACHEL.

stances, the elders long withholding their consent. At the end of two years the perseverance of the lovers triumphed, and they were united. A numerous progeny was for a long time the only wealth of this constant couple. Born during the course of their mother’s peregrinations, each child was the na¬ tive of a different place. Several died in early childhood, and six reached adultness. Of these, Sarah, Eaphael, Leah, and Dinah still live; Eebecca died three years ago; and of the death of Eachel we shall have hereafter to make more partic¬ ular mention. These Biblical names proclaiming too plainly the race of the bearers, they were laid aside, and more com¬ monplace ones substituted. Sarah and Eaphael alone kept theirs; the other children were known as Eliza,'Eosalie, Char¬ lotte, and Emilia. When they subsequently came before the public, however, the prestige attached to uncommon names in¬ duced them to resume their original ones. On the day of her debut Eliza appeared as Eachel, Eosalie afterward came out as Eebecca, Charlotte was Leah, and Emilia Dinah. Even Madame Felix, who had Christianized herself so far as adopt¬ ing the name of Sophia went, took the more euphonious one of ISToemi.

Fortune long frowned on the Felix family. Pursuing from town to village, and from fair to fair, their precarious and toil¬ some career, earning with difficulty their uncertain daily bread, the parents, like the majority of itinerant Jews, carried on a variety of avocations, but had no regular trade or profession.

Sarah, the eldest child, was born in Germany, and in the very heart of the Jewish customs and traditions. Of all the family, she is the most thorough Hebrew at heart.

Eaphael was born in Macon, Eebecca in Lyons, and Dinah in Paris.

It was in a little wretched inn in Munf (Canton of Aran, Switzerland), on tho 24th of March, 1821, according to the best authenticated account, that the wife of the poor peddler gave birth to the child who was to be the source of wealth and prosperity to the whole family. We have given this place of birth, as we have said, from the best authenticated accounts ; for, in reality, nothing can be found to designate with certain¬ ty the exact spot. All that remains to record the event, so

MEMOIRS OF RACHEL.

unimportant to the world at that time, is an entry made by the burgomaster of Aran, mentioning that the wife of a ped¬ dler had been confined of a female child in the village of Munf. The entiy bore no mention of family or religion. The birth was regularly recorded on no civil or religious register what¬ soever.

Thus the great tragedienne of our age, she whose renown has been proclaimed in all Europe and confirmed in the New "World, can not boast of that which is the patrimony of the humblest and poorest child of the people—an act that proves her identity!

For ten successive years the family wandered throughout Switzerland and Germany, and during the course of this weari¬ some pilgrimage, the energy and perseverance with which the mother sought to conquer adverse fate were indefatigable. She finally succeeded in housing her numerous progeny in Lyons, where she opened a paltry little second-hand clothes shop.

While patient Esther bought and sold old clothes, her hus¬ band gave lessons in German. Sarah, the eldest child, went from one cafe to another singing, accompanied by her young¬ er sister, Rachel, who collected the copper donations, and (he children not unfrequentiy trundled between them, on a barrow, a third child, thus adding to the interest they excited, and relieving their mother of the care of the baby for a short time.

Chapter II

Paris.—A lucky Meeting.—Mr. Clioron.— 1 The Cours St. Auburn.— Eachel at Thirteen.—Narrative of Salcma.—An old Umbrella for Racine. — “Le Legataire Uni vers el.”—Precocious Actress. — The Conservatoire.—Conflicting Opinions.—A Judge at Fault.—Unfa¬ vorable Prognostics.—“ Sell Bouquets, girl, sell Bouquets.”—• An important Role.—A great Step in. Life. ! 7

Toward the year 1830 the Felix family found means to satisfy the craving desire that all provincials entertain to sco the capital. They removed to Paris, and for some years con¬ tinued there the life they led in Lyons.

IS MEMOIRS OP RACHEL.

Many and contradictory versions have been given of the circumstances that led to the cultivation and development of the tragic genius whose latent spark might, under less propi¬ tious ones, have been stifled at its birth. The following we can vouch for as having been the real origin of Rachel’s for¬ tunate career.

A gentleman of the name of Morin, who, at the present day, is employed in a government office, was one evening tak¬ ing his cup of coffee in a cafe, Rue de la Huchette, one of the poorest, lowest, and meanest streets of a very poor, low, and mean quarter of the town. Sarah, was singing, and Rachel was going the rounds of the tables, collecting contributions from the guests. Struck with the exceeding sweetness of the elder girl’s voice—a voice possessing in an extraordinai'y de¬ gree the power of awakening a sympathetic chord in the heart of the listener—Mr. Morin called the singer to him, and in¬ quired why she did not find a way to make her voice more profitable than it was with her present mode of using it—a practice -which, moreover, exposed her to numerous insults, and might result in her finally losing it.

The girl replied that she had no one to take an interest in or to counsel her how to act.

“"Well,” said the gentleman, “here is my address; come to me to-morrow, and I will give you a letter to a friend of mine w r ho may be of great service to you.”

The girls went the next day to their new protector, who, true to his word, gave them a letter to Mr. Clioron, then at the head of the Conservatoire of Sacred Music, Rue Yangirad, 69. Choron heard Sarah sing, and immediately admitted her as a pupil. Then turning to Rachel, he said,

“ And what can you do, little one V’

“ I can recite verses,” was the reply.

“ Recite verses, can you ? Prfly let me hear you.”

The child complied, and the correctness and feeling with which she uttered the pieces of her little repertory were deem¬ ed remarkable by this competent judge, albeit the effect of the recitation was somewhat marred by the gruff tones of the voice. Both sisters were admitted into the Conservatoire, Rachel tak¬ ing a place among the choristers.

MEMOIRS OP RACHEL.

By the advice of Mr. Clioron, Rachel studied elocution, and was recommended by him to St. Aulaire, the manager of the Salle Genard, Rue de Lancry, where pupils were taught gra¬ tuitously. Her sister Sarah also followed the Cours there. The talent innate in the younger sister must have been very apparent, for, unlike Sarah’s, her voice was peculiarly grating and disagreeable in early youth, and for a long while seemed destined to prove an insuperable obstacle to success.

Nor was the exterior of the aspirant after histrionic laurels an auxiliary. Puny, meagre, wiry, she appeared several years younger than she really was. The person from whom these particulars were obtained, and who, for years, never lost sight of the fortunate Jewess, gives a graphic description of her as she then appeared. It was in 1834, on a cold, gray Novem¬ ber morning, Rachel was dressed in a short calico frock, the pattern of which was the common one of a red ground spot¬ ted with white; the trowsers were of the same material; the boots of coarse black leather, laced in front, but scrupulously polished. Her hair was parted at the back of the head, and hung down her shoulders in two braids. Every thing about the child was of the cheapest and plainest kind, but the en¬ semble conveyed an idea of excessive neatness and even precis¬ ion—characteristics for which she was always noted. With those older than herself little Rachel was punctiliously po¬ lite, and this manner proceeded more from intuitive knowl¬ edge of the propriety of such conduct than from lessons re¬ ceived. She was simple and grave beyond her years; every feature of the long, childish face bearing an impress of mod¬ esty and even dignity, with which education had had little to do. With children of her own age she was pert, bold, and capricious, resembling rather a fantastic, tricky elf than the serious, formal little dame she appeared in older society.

The Cours was removed from the Rue Lancry, and estab¬ lished momentarily in the Prado, opposite the Palais de Jus¬ tice. It was here that Rachel’s natural genius for tragedy was in reality first revealed. She recited the narrative of Salema , in the “ Abufar,” by Ducis, describing the agony of the mother who, while expiring of thirst in a desert, gives birth to her babe. While uttering the thrilling tale, the thin face

MEMOIRS OP RA.CHEL.

seemed to lengthen with horror, the small, deep-set black eyes dilated with a fixed stare, as though she witnessed the har¬ rowing scene, and the deep guttural tones, despite a slight Jewish accent, awoke a nameless terror in the hearer, carry¬ ing him through the imaginary woe with a strange feeling of reality, not to be shaken off as long as the sounds lasted. To elicit thus the sympathetic attention of those who heai’d her was much, but yet more was needed to satisfy a public ren¬ dered fastidious by the remembrance of past excellence, and the constant habit of seeing new candidates for its favors. The voice might be tolerated, as time was expected to smooth its discordant notes; but the public eye must also be satisfied; and, until she attained nearly her full growth, Rachel’s figure, all acute angles, resembled that of a half-starved monkey.

The school was finally removed to the Salle Moliere in April, 1835, and here the system of teaching was somewhat changed. Theatricals wei’e got up in which the pupils were the actors, each paying from one to ten francs for the privi¬ lege, according'to the importance of the part undertaken. Sarah, who was supposed to be an especial favorite with the head of the academjr, had her own way in all things, and the result was that her sister played any and every thing without paying. In fact, she learned indiscriminately any part that happened to be wanted, from one of the mutes that fill up the background to the most important personages in tragedy or comedy, without any reference to her peculiar disposition or aptness for any one branch of her art—points utterly un¬ heeded by the teacher at the time. This indifference seemed justified by the insignificant appearance she then presented. Time seemed to pass over without noticing the scraggy little elf, who, at fourteen, hardly looked to be nine. During three years she did not grow a line.

The following account of the first introduction of a well-known feuilletonist to the tragedienne in embryo we borrow from the Independence Beige. Speaking of the little theatre where St. Aulaire taught his pupils to appear with ease and confidence before an audience, Mr. Villemot says:

“ If was here that, in 1835,1 saw for the first time her who was to win such celebrity. One of my friends, a young man

JXEilOIES OF RACHEL.

of good family, and who now occupies the post of French Consul abroad, was possessed with a passion for private the¬ atricals. All his leisure hour’s and all his spare money he spent in this darling pursuit, and I was one day invited with great solemnity to witness his performance of the part of Dan¬ ville in the ‘Ecole des Vuillards.’ When we entered the thea¬ tre, my friend stopped before a column on which was a smoky lamp, and against which was leaning a meagre, black, scraggy, poverty-stricken little girl, of an aspect more wretched than I can describe. 4 Eliza,’ quoth the amateur comedian to this child, ‘ which would you rather have, a cake or fried potatoes V ‘ Fried potatoes,’ was the reply.

“ My friend, who, in playing great characters, had acquired habits of reckless prodigality,-drew from his pocket a two-sous piece. Seized with a spirit of emulation, I bestowed a similar coin. The child disappeared, and returned almost immediate¬ ly bearing a paper horn full of fried potatoes, temptingly hot and brown. She offered the horn to her benefactors, and this was the only time I ever partook of a meal with Mademoiselle Rachel. Young Eliza was to appear in an after-piece—I do not know what one, or in what part. I did not see her: my friend had made such poor work of the part of Danville, I had had quite enough of it. Going home, I inquired of my friend who was that miserable little thing. ‘That,’ said he, ‘is a very intelligent but very poor child, as you see. You, who are acquainted with authors and managers, might perhaps get her employment in some theatre to play childish parts; you would thus do her a great favor.’