“We should believe ourselves guilty of ingratitude, were we not to imitate you, in seconding your humanity; were we not to return the pensions which your munificence has lavished upon us. Apply these revenues, Monseigneur, to the relief of the many suffering military men, the many poor men of letters, the many unhappy servants, whom M. le Prince de Guéménée drags into the abyss with him. As for ourselves, we have other resources; we shall lose nothing, Monseigneur, if we retain your esteem for us. We shall even be the gainers if, in refusing your benefits, we compel our detractors to confess that we were not altogether unworthy of them.
“We are with profound respect, &c.
“In the dressing-room of Mlle. Guimard,
this Friday, December 6, 1782.”
In August 1783, Mlle. Guimard was attacked by small-pox, to the great alarm of the patrons of the Opera, who feared that, even if she were to recover, the priests might succeed in persuading her to renounce her profession. Happily, however, the attack was a mild one, and on August 29 a fête was held at the danseuse’s hôtel, “to render thanks to her lovers for the care they had taken of her.”
In the following year, however, Mlle. Guimard did announce her intention of retiring, whereupon La Ferté wrote in hot haste to the Minister of the King’s Household, begging him to promise her an addition of one thousand livres to her retiring pension, if she would reconsider her decision. As the ballerina had already demanded this favour, it is probable that the announcement of her approaching resignation was merely a ruse on her part to force the Minister’s hand.
The Minister replied the same day to La Ferté, that, “although a favour accorded to one person opens the door to a whole crowd of pretensions,” in consideration of her long services, he promised to assure to her, when she should retire, the additional thousand livres which she demanded; but on condition that she should preserve the most profound secrecy in regard to this favour.
In the early part of the year 1785, Mlle. Guimard fell into financial difficulties and was obliged to sell the “Temple of Terpsichore,” in the Chaussée-d’Antin. Instead of putting it up to auction or inviting private offers, she decided to adopt the somewhat novel expedient of disposing of it by lottery, and, having succeeded in obtaining the permission of the authorities, or at any rate a promise that they would not offer any opposition to the scheme, caused the following prospectus to be circulated:
“Prospectus of a lottery of the house of Mlle. Guimard, of which the draw will take place in public, May 1, 1786, in a room of the Hôtel des Menus, Rue Bergère, in the presence of a public official.
“This house is situated at the entrance of the Chaussée-d’Antin, and consists of a building, with a court on one side and a garden on the other. The side facing the court is adorned by a peristyle; the rez-de-chaussée, which is raised on eight steps, is divided into an ante-chamber, dining-room, bedchamber, boudoir, a large room lighted from above, to serve as a picture-gallery, dressing-room, bathroom, &c., all richly decorated.
“Above are also private apartments very commodious, and likewise very richly decorated.