(1) The exclusion of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt from all rights as a sociétaire of the Comédie Française.
(2) The confiscation of her proportion of the reserve fund, amounting to over forty thousand francs.
(3) Three hundred thousand francs damages.
The critics were unanimously against her. Paul de Saint-Victor opened all the flood-gates of his controversial invective. M. Sarcey indulged in prophecy, and delivered himself of the following oracular saying—“She had better not try to deceive herself. Her success will not be lasting. She is not one of those artistes who can bear the whole weight of a piece on their own shoulders, and who require no assistance to hold the public attention.”
M. Emile Augier, who had expected great things from the revival of his play, was much annoyed by the defection of the principal exponent. He wrote M. Perrin a letter in which he attempted to conceal his irritation under the mask of irony—
She was as well prepared as she could be. I go further, and say she played quite as well as usual, with all her defects and all her good qualities, with which art has nothing to do. Moreover, she obtained as much applause as ever from an adoring public. What, then, was the cause of the trouble? The Press indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, and Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt does not like this kind of thing. With whom does the fault lie? Evidently with messieurs the critics, who have hitherto treated her as a spoilt child. Are these ungrateful Athenians beginning to tire of her success, and to think it unjustified?
M. Emile Zola, whose devotion to the cause of generosity and courage does not date from yesterday, was almost the only journalist to take Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt’s part, or rather to point out the faults on both sides, and to make the voice of wisdom heard amid this outburst of passion. He reminded Sarah that “it is sometimes an honour to be attacked.” Whilst Emile Zola, and also Emile de Girardin, lifted up their voices for peace and reconciliation, Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt in her retirement at Sainte-Adresse enthusiastically proclaimed her joy at what she called her deliverance. “Do you know how much I earned?” she asked a representative of the Gaulois. “Barely thirty thousand francs a year. That may be all very well for people who intend to remain on the stage until they are fifty or sixty years old, but in twenty years’ time shall I still be in this world? I have always had a horror of growing old on the stage, and I don’t mean to do it.” Her feeling was in fact so strong on this point that she incontinently adopted an heroic resolution—to leave the stage! It had already caused her too much suffering, she said, and she was quite decided not to die on it. She thus announced the result of her cogitations to the representative of the Gaulois—
“Yes, it’s all settled. I have learnt painting and sculpture, and I intend to live by that. My sales bring me in thirty thousand francs a year. My brush and chisel will make me a second existence, much calmer and more profitable than the first.”
Observing her guest’s astonishment, she added, gravely, “with a sad smile which rendered doubt impossible”—
“I came to this decision when I made up my mind to leave the Comédie Française.”
Gradually the storm subsided, and the affair began to be forgotten. The only allusions made to it were when some other artiste took up one of Mlle. Sarah Bernhardt’s parts. The Figaro, for instance, amiably remarked—
M. Emile Augier last night assured Mlle. Croizette, who was playing Sarah Bernhardt’s rôle in L’Aventurière, that this was the first time he had known any artiste form an intelligent conception of the character of Clorinde.