Later Queens of the French Stage

by H. Noel Williams

And Madame Vigée Lebrun says:

“And now I come to her whose dramatic career I have followed from beginning to end, to the most perfect actress ever possessed by the Opéra-Comique, to Madame Dugazon. Hers was a natural talent, which owed nothing apparently to study. Noble, naïve, graceful, piquant, she had twenty faces, and always suited her accent to the person she represented at the time. Her voice was somewhat weak, but she adapted it equally well to tears, laughter, and every situation.”[130]

That Madame Dugazon was far greater as an actress than as a vocalist there can, we think, be no question. The father of French opéra-comique, Grétry, gives it as his opinion that she was not a singer at all, but “an actress who spoke song with the truest and most passionate expression.” And Boïeldieu, the author of La Dame Blanche, says much the same. “What an astonishing woman!” he exclaimed, after the first performance of Le Calife de Bagdad. “They say that she does not understand music; yet I never heard any one sing with such taste and expression, such nature and fidelity.”[131]

Madame Dugazon’s voice indeed, though limited in range, was pure and flexible and of an enchanting tone, and, as was the case with Garat, her natural endowments far outweighed the disadvantages of a deficient musical education.

To recall all the successes of this charming actress, it would be necessary, as M. Campardon very truly remarks, to cite practically the whole répertoire of the Comédie-Italienne, and we will, therefore, confine ourselves to those of her “creations” upon which contemporary writers have left us the fullest information.

An opera called Blaise et Babet, libretto by Monvel, music by Desaides, produced on June 30, 1783, marks the commencement of the most brilliant period of her career. This little work provided Madame Dugazon with a magnificent triumph. “What fine and delicate shades,” writes Grimm, “does the voice of Madame Dugazon impart, in this rôle of Babet, to the most simple expressions! There is not one of her inflections, there is not a movement in her acting, which does not add to the movement of the scene, and does not vary it with as much truth as grace.”[132] And the critic of the Mercure writes: “It is difficult to describe all the shades of talent that Madame Dugazon has developed in the rôle of Babet. Natural, comical, naïve, intelligent, sensible, she has not allowed one of the traits which make up the character of the person whom she represents to escape.”

The third performance of Blaise et Babet was graced by the presence of the Queen, who was so enchanted with the part played by Madame Dugazon that she forthwith resolved to act it herself, and soon afterwards the piece was presented at the royal theatre at Trianon, with Marie Antoinette as Babet. Madame Dugazon and Fleury were summoned to Court to preside over the rehearsals and aid the Queen with their counsels. Nor were their pains thrown away, for, if we are to believe the Fleury Mémoires, her Majesty’s rendering of Babet almost equalled that of the actress herself:

“She was a thousand times to be applauded, when she was vexed, crushed her flowers, threw them into the basket, and exclaimed, with the most charming toss of her head: ‘Tu m’as fait endêver... endêve... endêve!’

“It was such a delightful medley of pouting and sentiment, of tears and vexation, of anger and love, that I saw proud courtiers moved by it, and, courtiers though they were, forget to applaud, because they were weeping.”