He was not aware of the procedure of lining up before the entrance-doors, and when one well up in the line offered to sell him his place for twenty sous—held since midday—Dumas willingly paid it, and, not knowing that it did not include admission to the performance, was exceedingly distraught when the time came to actually pay for places. This may seem a simple matter in a later day, and to us who have become familiar with similar conditions in Paris and elsewhere; but it serves to show the guilelessness of Dumas, and his little regard for business procedure of any sort.
The incident is continued in his own words, to the effect that he “finally purchased a bit of pasteboard that once had been white, which I presented to the check-taker and received in return another of red.... My appearance in the amphitheatre of the house must have been astonishing. I was the very latest Villers-Cotterets fashion, but a revolution had taken place in Paris which had not yet reached my native place. My hair was long, and, being frizzled, it formed a gigantic aureole around my head. I was received with roars of laughter.... I dealt the foremost scoffer a vigorous slap in the face, and said, at the same time, ‘My name is Alexandre Dumas. For to-morrow, I am staying at the Hôtel des Vieux-Augustins, and after that at No. 1 Place des Italiens.’”
By some incomprehensible means Dumas was hustled out of the theatre and on to the sidewalk—for disturbing the performance, though the performance had not yet begun. He tried his luck again, however, and this time bought a place at two francs fifty centimes.
Every visitor to Paris has recognized the preëminence of the “Opera” as a social institution. The National Opera, or the Théâtre Impérial de l’Opéra, as it was originally known, in the Rue Lepelletier, just off the Boulevard des Italiens, was the progenitor of the splendid establishment which now terminates the westerly end of the Avenue de l’Opera. The more ancient “Grand Opera” was uncontestably the most splendid, the most pompous, and the most influential of its contemporary institutions throughout Europe.
The origin of the “Grand Opera” was as remote as the times of Anne of Austria, who, it will be recalled, had a most passionate regard for musique and spectacle, and Mazarin caused to be brought from Italy musicians who represented before the queen “musical pieces” which proved highly successful.
Later, in 1672, Louis XIV. accorded the privilege of the Opera to Lulli, a distinguished musician of Florence, and the theatre of the Palais Royal was ceded to the uses of Académie de Musique.
After the fire of 1763, the Opera was transferred to the Tuileries, but removed again, because of another fire, to the Porte St. Martin, where it remained until 1794, when it was transferred to a new house which had been constructed for it in the Rue Richelieu.
Again in 1820 it was removed to a new establishment, which had been erected on the site of the former Hôtel de Choiseul.
This house had accommodations for but two thousand spectators, and, in spite of its sumptuousness and rank, was distinctly inferior in point of size to many opera-houses and theatres elsewhere.
Up to this time the management had been governed after the manner of the old régime, “by three gentlemen of the king’s own establishment, in concurrence with the services of a working director,” and the royal privy purse was virtually responsible for the expenses. Louis-Philippe astutely shifted the responsibility to the public exchequer.