Although never wealthy, for not even the most talented actress or singer of those days could hope for more than a modest competence, while none of her numerous love-affairs, if we except the very brief one with M. Boudreau, seem to have been prompted by any mercenary consideration, she was charitable to the utmost limit of her means, and was ever ready to relieve those in distress. It was at her instigation that, during the severe winter of 1784, special performances were organised for the benefit of the suffering poor and a very large sum realised, which was duly handed over to the Church for distribution. The Church, we are told, was very grateful for this timely assistance. But, with her usual intolerance where the theatrical profession was concerned, she decided that the curés must not be permitted to touch money which came direct from the hands of persons without her pale and, therefore, gave instructions that the alms should be purified by being made to pass through the exchequer of the Lieutenant of Police. This pretty piece of casuistry inspired a wit to the following epistle, supposed to be addressed by St. Augustine to Madame Dugazon and her colleagues:
“Salut à la troupe italique,
A ce comité catholique
Dont le cœur loyal s’attendrit
Sur la calamité publique,
C’est le fils de sainte Monique,
C’est Augustin qui vous écrit.
Oui, mes amis, par cette épître,
J’abjure maint et maint chapitre
Où j’ai frondé votre métier
Comme un tant soit peu diabolique.
. . . . . . . . . .
Oui, sans être garant de rien,
Je croirais qu’un comédien
Risque, s’il est homme de bien,
D’être sauvé tout comme un autre.
Un mime, en face d’un apôtre,
C’est un scandale, dira-t-on;
Saint Paul à côté de Rosière,
Trial vis à vis de saint Pierre,
Et bienheureuse Dugazon,
Aux pieds d’un diacre ou d’un vicaire,
Le paradis serait bouffon.
Tant pis pour qui s’en scandalise:
Allez au ciel par vos vertus
Et laissez clabauder l’Église.”
A Royalist to the core, Madame Dugazon, when the Revolution came, viewed with feelings of indignation and regret the downfall of the King and Queen, the latter of whom had treated her with marked kindness.[140] Nor did she lack the courage of her opinions, as an unsigned letter once in the possession of Mrs. Elliot, the lady who inspired the “First Gentleman in Europe” with so lively a passion, will testify:
“After the 20th of June, 1792, those who wished well to the Royal Family urged the Queen to show herself occasionally in public with the Dauphin, an interesting and beautiful child, and her charming daughter, Madame Royale.
“She went therefore to the Comédie-Italienne, with her children, Madame Élisabeth, the King’s sister, and Madame de Tourzel, gouvernante of the ‘children of France.’ This was the last time that the Queen appeared in public. I was in my box, exactly facing that of the Queen; and, as she was much more interesting than the play, I kept my eyes fixed upon her and her family.
“The piece represented was the Événements imprévus, and Madame Dugazon played the soubrette.
“Her Majesty, from the moment she entered the theatre, seemed very sad. She was much affected by the applause of the public, and I saw her several times wipe the tears from her eyes. The little Dauphin, who sat the whole evening upon her knees, appeared anxious to know the cause of his unhappy mother’s tears. She was seen to caress him, and the audience seemed moved by the cruel situation of this unhappy Queen.
“There is a duet in this opera sung by the soubrette and the valet, and Madame Dugazon had to say:
“ ‘J’aime mon maître tendrement,
Ah! combien j’aime ma maîtresse!’
“As, in singing these verses, she placed her hand on her heart and looked at the Queen, every one perfectly understood the allusion.