"You are the greatest known singer," she said; "no one can enter into the work of the great masters and seize their most secret thought as you do; teach me!"
"Who are you?" asked François Delsarte.
"Henrietta Sontag," replied the stranger.
Madame Barbot had a moment of great triumph, and was summoned to Russia at the period of her success in Paris. She was perhaps the master's best imitator; she had somewhat of his tragic emotion, his style, his gesture; then what did she lack to equal him? She lacked that absolute sine qua non of art and poetry--personality. She added little of her own.
Even among those who could neither hear his lectures nor follow his lessons, Delsarte had disciples. A great singing-teacher, whom I knew at Florence, was eager to learn everything concerning the method. I often heard him ask a certain young girl, as he read a score: "You were Delsarte's pupil; tell me if he would have read this as I have done?"
Even the famous Jenny Lind made the journey from London to Paris, expressly to hear the great singer.
At his lectures were seen from time to time: M. and Mme. Amand Chevé, Mlle. Chaudesaigues, M. Mario Uchard--who, after his marriage, asked for elocution lessons for his wife (Madeleine Brohan),--Mlle. Rosalie Jacob, whose brilliant vocalization never won the renown which it deserved, Mme. Carvalho, who was not one of the regular attendants, but who trained her rare talent as a light singer, there, before the very eyes of her fellow pupils,--Géraldon, who was very successful in Italy, under the name of Géraldoni.
Then, there was Mme. de B----, who appeared at the opera under the name of Betty; a beauty with a fine voice. This artist did not perfect her talents, being in haste to join the theatre in Rue Lepelletier, under the shield of another master. Although well received by the public, she soon gave up the profession.
A memory haunts me, and I cannot deny it a few lines.
Mme. M. may have been eighteen when she began to study singing with Delsarte, together with her husband, who was destined for a similar career. She had an agreeable voice, but a particularly charming face, the freshness of a child in its cradle, a sweet expression of innocence. In figure she was tall and slender. The lovely creature always looked like a Bengal rose tossing upon its graceful stalk. These young students considered themselves finished and made an engagement with the manager of a theatre in Brazil.