Mme. Sarah Bernhardt on one of her tours.
On the 16th May, Sarah revived La Dame aux Camélias at the Variétés. In July she went to London, where she was received with the customary enthusiasm, and, the summer at an end, she re-appeared on the 4th September at the Porte St. Martin theatre in La Tosca, in which she had triumphed two years before. A month later came another revival, Théodora, which furnished M. Sarcey with one more opportunity for lamenting—as, in fact, he had never ceased to do since Sarah’s desertion of the Comédie Française—the injury her foreign tours had done her. Regardless of criticism and case-hardened by experience against the opinions of the Press, Mme. Sarah Bernhardt was devoting all her energies to the rehearsals of Jeanne d’Arc. Perhaps, however, she was not really far from agreeing with M. Sarcey. On the eve of one of her tours she remarked—
Really, I seem to be intended for the export trade! Success abroad is very nice, but success in France is still better.
She produced M. Jules Barbier’s Jeanne d’Arc at the Porte St. Martin, on the 3rd January, 1890. The result was unanimously admitted to be all that could be desired. M. de Lapommeraye observed—
The entire performance was one continued triumph for Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, who sent a thrill of the noblest emotion and the keenest admiration through every heart.
According to M. Henry Bauer, “her success increased with every act and culminated in a brilliant triumph.” “This woman has a power within her,” exclaimed M. Jules Lemaître. “It is impossible to see her without being moved to tears,” said M. Sarcey. M. Vitu wrote—
She chiefly surprised every one, including her warmest admirers as well as her most prejudiced critics, by the extraordinary, passionate, irresistible force she imparted to the patriotic outbursts of the heroine. But everything, even praises, must have an end. What I have said is merely a summary of the expressed opinions of the entire audience last night, of what Paris will say in a few days, and of what every one will say in a few months when Paris and the world will have seen and applauded Sarah again and again in this the finest of all the fine creations of her career.
In July she was playing in London, and on the 23rd October she appeared at the Porte St. Martin in Cléopâtre, by MM. Sardou and Moreau. “What a wonderful actress she is!” exclaims M. de Lapommeraye. “She appears, she is seen and heard, and she triumphs.”
“What a pity it is,” regretfully says M. Bauer, “that her prodigious gifts, her art, and her powers of perception and expression should ever be wasted on M. Jules Barbier’s verses, or on brigand stories in prose!”
M. Albert Wolff simply quivers with enthusiasm—