“Immediately, a number of Jacobins who were among the audience sprang upon the stage, and, if the actors had not concealed Madame Dugazon, they would certainly have killed her. They then drove the poor Queen and her suite from the theatre, and it was all that the guard could do to place them safe and sound in their carriages.
“In the meanwhile, the Queen’s party had joined battle with the Jacobins; but the soldiers intervened and the broil had no serious consequences.”
Shortly after this incident, Madame Dugazon temporarily retired from the Comédie-Italienne, on the plea of ill-health; but really, according to Madame Lebrun, because the public, in a spirit of revenge, had endeavoured to make her sing a revolutionary song upon the stage.[141] In 1795 she reappeared and was received with all the old enthusiasm. At the time of her return, she was merely a pensioner; but, in 1801, when the two Opéra-Comiques were united in a single troupe at the Théâtre-Feydeau, she was admitted a sociétaire and given a seat on the administrative council.
No one was more rejoiced at the Restoration than this most ardent Royalist. “I feel,” she observed to one of her friends, “that now I shall die more happy.” She started at once for Saint-Ouen, and was one of the first to whom Louis XVIII. granted an audience. On being admitted to the royal presence, her emotion overcame her, and she threw herself at the King’s feet, bathed in tears.
The monarch, himself much moved, raised her up. “You have not forgotten me,” said he, kindly, “and I shall always remember the pleasure you gave me at Versailles. I am very grieved that the state of your health has compelled you to retire from the stage. I should be enchanted to see you again.”
After her interview with Louis XVIII., we hear little of Madame Dugazon. She lived a very retired life in the midst of a little circle of intimate friends. All her affection was centred in her son Gustave, a young composer, who, at an early age, showed remarkable promise, which, however, does not seem to have been quite fulfilled.[142] Such was her anxiety for his success that when he had an opera in rehearsal, she is said to have invariably fallen ill and not to have recovered until after the first performance.[143]
She died on September 21, 1821, after a long and painful illness, and was buried in Père-Lachaise. The cortège was followed by a large crowd, and Bouilly, her devoted friend of twenty years, pronounced a funeral oration.