He never came back. And the following day they found the poor old woman talking low to the waves which came and bathed her feet. She came every day to the water’s edge, throwing in the bread which kindly folk gave her and saying to the waves: “You must carry that to the little lad.”
This touching narrative had remained in my memory. I can still see the tall old woman with her brown cape and hood. I worked feverishly at the group. It seemed to me now that I was destined to be a sculptor and I began to despise my theater. I went there only when I was compelled by my duties and I left it as soon as possible.
I had made several designs, none of which pleased me. Just when I was going to throw down the last one in discouragement, the painter Georges Clairin, who came to see me, begged me not to do so. And my good friend, Mathieu Mensiner, who was a man of talent, also joined his voice against the destruction of my design.
Excited by their encouragement I decided to push on with the work and to make a large group. I asked Lourdier if he knew any tall, bony old woman, and he sent me two, but neither of them suited me. Then I asked all my painter and sculptor friends, and during eight days all sorts of old and infirm women came for my inspection. I fixed at last on a charwoman who was about sixty years old. She was very tall and had very sharply cut features. When she came in I felt a slight sentiment of fear. The idea of remaining alone with this female gendarme for hours together made me feel uneasy. But when I heard her speak I was more comfortable. Her timid, gentle voice and frightened gestures, like a shy young girl, contrasted strangely with the build of the poor woman. When I showed her the design she was stupefied: “Do you want me to have my neck and shoulders bare? I really cannot.” I told her that nobody ever came in when I worked and I asked to see her neck immediately.
Oh, that neck! I clapped my hands with joy when I saw it. It was long, emaciated, terrible. The bones literally stood out almost bare of flesh, the Adam’s apple looked as if it would come through the skin. It was just what I wanted. I went up to her and gently bared her shoulder. What a treasure I had found! the bones of the shoulder were entirely visible under the skin and she had two immense “salt cellars.” The woman was ideal for my work. She seemed destined for it. She blushed when I told her so. I asked to see her feet. She took off her thick boots and showed a dirty foot which had no character. “No,” I said, “thank you. Your feet are too small, I will take only your head and shoulders.”
After having fixed the price I engaged her for three months. At the idea of earning so much money for three months the poor woman began to cry and I felt so sorry for her that I told her she would not have to seek for work that winter, because she had already told me that she generally passed six months of the year in the country, at Sologne, near her grandchildren.
Having found the grandmother I now needed the grandchild. I then had passed in review before me a whole army of little Italians, professional models. There were some lovely children, real little Jupins. The mothers undressed their children in one moment and the children posed quite naturally and took attitudes which showed off their muscles and the development of the torso. I chose a fine little boy of seven years, but who looked more like nine. I had already had the workmen in to put up the scaffolding required to make it sufficiently stable to sustain the necessary weight. Enormous iron supports were fixed into the plaster by bolts, and pillars of wood and iron wherever needed. The skeleton of a large piece of sculpture looks like a giant trap put up to catch rats and mice by the thousand.
I gave myself up to this enormous work with the courage of ignorance. Nothing discouraged me. Often I worked on till midnight, sometimes till four o’clock in the morning. And as one, humble gas burner was totally insufficient for working by, I had a crown or rather a silver circlet made, each bud of which was a candlestick with a candle burning, those of the back row a little higher than those of the front; and with this help I was able to work almost without ceasing. I had no watch or clock in the room, as I wished to ignore time altogether. Then my maid would come to seek me. How many times I have gone without lunch or dinner! Then I would perhaps faint and so be compelled to send for something to eat to restore my strength.
SARAH BERNHARDT AT WORK ON HER “MÊDÉE.”