Chéron—His last compliments to Harel—Obituary of 1830—My official visit on New Year's Day—A striking costume—Read the Moniteur—Disbanding of the Artillery of the National Guard—First representation of Napoléon Bonaparte—Delaistre—Frédérick Lemaître
Meantime, throughout the course of that glorious year of 1830, death had been gathering in a harvest of celebrated men.
It had begun with Chéron, the author of Tartufe de Mœurs. We learnt his death in a singular fashion. Harel thought of taking up the only comedy that the good fellow had written, and had begun its rehearsals the same time as Christine. They rehearsed Chéron's comedy at ten in the morning and Christine at noon. One morning, Chéron, who was punctuality itself, was late. Harel had waited a little while, then given orders to prepare the stage for Christine. Steinberg had not got further than his tenth line, when a little fellow of twelve years came from behind one of the wings and asked for M. Harel.
"Here I am," said Harel, "what is it?"
"M. Chéron presents his compliments to you," said the little man, "and sends word that he cannot come to his rehearsal this morning."
"Why not, my boy?" asked Harel.
"Because he died last night," replied the little fellow.
"Ah! diable!" exclaimed Harel; "in that case you must take back my best compliments and tell him that I will attend his funeral to-morrow."
That was the funeral oration the ex-government inspector to the Théâtre-Français pronounced over him.