Jasmin: Barber, Poet, Philanthropist Part 15

"How impossible? It seems to me that it is your trade!"

"It is so; but at this moment I am not disposed to exercise it."

The banker again pleaded; Jasmin was firm; and the millionaire went away unshaved!

During one of his recitations at Toulouse, he was introduced to Mdlle.

Roaldes, a young and beautiful lady, with whose father, a thriving stockbroker, he stayed while in that city. His house was magnificent and splendidly furnished. Many persons of influence were invited to meet Jasmin, and, while there, he was entertained with much hospitality. But, as often happens with stockbrokers, M. Roaldes star fell; he suffered many losses, and at length became poor and almost dest.i.tute.

One day, while Jasmin was sharpening his razors in his shop in Agen, who should appear but Mdlle. Therese Roaldes, sad and dejected. It was the same young lady who had charmed him, not only by her intellectual converse, but by her admirable musical ability. She had sung brilliantly at the entertainment given at her father's house, and now she came to lay her case before the Agenaise barber! She told her whole story, ending with the present dest.i.tution of her father--formerly the rich stockbroker.

"What can we do now?" asked Jasmin; "something must be done at once."

Mdlle. Roaldes judged rightly of the generous heart of Jasmin. He was instantly ready and willing to help her. They might not restore her father's fortunes, but they might rescue him from the poverty and humiliations in which his sudden reverse of fortune had involved him.

The young lady had only her voice and her harp, but Jasmin had his "Curl-papers." Mdlle. Roaldes was beautiful; could her beauty have influenced Jasmin? For beauty has a wonderful power in the world.

But goodness is far better, and it was that and her filial love which princ.i.p.ally influenced Jasmin in now offering her his a.s.sistance.

The two made their first appearance at Agen. They gave their performance in the theatre, which was crowded, The name of Mdlle. Roaldes excited the greatest sympathy, for the misfortunes of her father were well known in the South. For this beautiful girl to descend from her brilliant home in Toulouse to the boards of a theatre at Agen, was a sad blow, but her courage bore her up, and she excited the sympathetic applause of the audience. In the midst of the general enthusiasm, Jasmin addressed the charming lady in some lines which he had prepared for the occasion.

Holding in his hand a bouquet of flowers, he said--

"Oh well they bloom for you! Mothers and daughters, Throw flowers to her, though moistened with your tears.

These flowers receive them, for They bear the incense of our hearts.

Daughter of heaven, oh, sing! your name s.h.i.+nes bright, The earth applauds, and G.o.d will bless you ever."

At the conclusion of his poem, Jasmin threw his wreath of flowers to the young lady, and in an instant she was covered with flowers by the audience. Mdlle. Roaldes was deeply moved. She had faced a public audience for the first time; she had been received with applause, and from that moment she felt confidence in her performances as well as in her labour of love.

The poet, with the singer and harpist, made a tour in the southern provinces, and the two muses, poetry and music, went from town to town, enlivening and enlightening the way. Every heart praised the poet for giving his services to his young and beautiful friend. They applauded also the lovely woman who made her harp-chords vibrate with her minstrel's music. The pair went to Montauban, Albi, Toulouse, and Nimes; they were welcomed at Avignon, the city of Petrarch and the Popes.

Ma.r.s.eilles forgot for a time her harbour and her s.h.i.+ps, and listened with rapture to the musician and the poet.

At Ma.r.s.eilles Jasmin felt himself quite at home. In the intervals between the concerts and recitals, he made many new friends, as well as visited many old ones. His gay and genial humour, his lively sallies, his brilliant recitals, brought him friends from every circle. M. Merv, in a political effusion, welcomed the Gascon poet. He was invited to a fete of l'Athenee-Ouvier (the Workman's Athenaeum); after several speeches, Jasmin rose and responded:

"I am proud," he said, "of finding myself among the members of this society, and of being welcomed by men who are doubly my brethren--by the labour of the hands and by the labour of the head. You have moved me and astonished me, and I have incurred to l'Athenee-Ouvier a poetical debt which my muse can only repay with the most tender recollections."

Many pleasant letters pa.s.sed between Jasmin and Mdlle. de Roaldes. The lady entertained the liveliest grat.i.tude to the poet, who had helped her so n.o.bly in her misfortunes. On the morning after her first successful appearance at Agen, she addressed to him a letter full of praise and thankfulness. She ended it thus: "Most amiable poet, I adore your heart, and I do homage to your genius." In a future letter she confessed that the rays of the sun were not less welcome than the rays of his genius, and that her music would have been comparatively worthless but for his poetry.

Towards the end of their joint entertainment she again wrote to him: "You have become, my dear poet, my shower of gold, my heaven-sent manna, while you continue your devotion to my personal interests.... As a poet, I give you all the glory; as a friend, I owe you the affection of my filial heart, the hopes of a better time, and the consolation of my future days... Let it be remembered that this good deed on your part is due to your heart and will. May it protect you during your life, and make you blest in the life which is to come!"

While at Nimes, the two poet-artisans met--Reboul the baker and Jasmin the barber. Reboul, who attended the music-recitation, went up to Jasmin and cordially embraced him, amidst the enthusiastic cheers of three thousand people. Jasmin afterwards visited Reboul at his bakery, where they had a pleasant interview with respect to the patois of Provence and Gascony. At the same time it must be observed that Reboul did not write in patois, but in cla.s.sical French.

Reboul had published a volume of poems which attracted the notice and praise of Lamartine and Alexandre Dumas. Perhaps the finest poem in the volume is ent.i.tled The Angel and Child. Reboul had lost his wife and child; he sorrowed greatly at their death, and this poem was the result.

The idea is simple and beautiful. An angel, noticing a lovely child in its cradle, and deeming it too pure for earth, bears its spirit away to Heaven. The poem has been admirably translated by Longfellow.

Dumas, in 'Pictures of Travel in the South of France,' relates an interview with the baker-poet of Nimes.

"What made you a poet?" asked Dumas.

"It was sorrow," replied Reboul--"the loss of a beloved wife and child.

I was in great grief; I sought solitude, and, finding no one who could understand me, poured forth my grief to the Almighty."

"Yes," said Dumas, "I now comprehend your feelings. It is thus that true poets become ill.u.s.trious. How many men of talent only want a great misfortune to become men of genius! You have told me in a word the secret of your life; I know it now as well as you do." And yet Jasmin, the contemporary of Reboul, had written all his poetry without a sorrow, and amidst praise and joyfulness.

Chateaubriand, when in the South of France, called upon Reboul. The baker met him at the door.

"Are you M. Reboul?" inquired the author of 'The Martyrs.'

"Which, sir--the baker or the poet?"

"The poet, of course."

"Then the poet cannot be seen until mid-day. At present the baker is working at the oven."

Chateaubriand accordingly retired, but returned at the time appointed, and had a long and interesting conversation with Reboul.

While at Montpellier Jasmin received two letters from Madame Lafarge, then in prison. The circ.u.mstances connected with her case were much discussed in the journals of the time. She had married at seventeen a M.

Lafarge, and found after her marriage that he had deceived her as to his property. Ill-feeling arose between the unhappy pair, and eventually she was tried for poisoning her husband. She was condemned with extenuating circ.u.mstances, and imprisoned at Montpellier in 1839. She declared that she was innocent of the crime imputed to her, and Jasmin's faith in the virtue of womanhood led him to believe her. Her letters to Jasmin were touching.

"Many pens," she said, "have celebrated your genius; let mine touch your heart! Oh, yes, sir, you are good, n.o.ble, and generous! I preserve every word of yours as a dear consolation; I guard each of your promises as a holy hope. Voltaire has saved Calas. Sing for me, sir, and I will bless your memory to the day of my death. I am innocent!... For eight long years I have suffered; and I am still suffering from the stain upon my honour. I grieve for a sight of the sun, but I still love life. Sing for me."

She again wrote to Jasmin, endeavouring to excite his interest by her appreciation of his poems.

"The spirit of your work," she said, "vibrates through me in every form.

What a pearl of eulogy is Maltro! What a great work is L'Abuglo! In the first of these poems you reach the sublime of love without touching a single chord of pa.s.sion. What purity, and at the same time what ease and tenderness! It is not only the fever of the heart; it is life itself, its religion, its virtue. This poor innuocento does not live to love; she loves to live.... Her love diffuses itself like a perfume--like the scent of a flower.... In writing Maltro your muse becomes virgin and Christian; and to dictate L'Abuglo is a crown of flowers, violets mingled with roses, like Tibullus, Anacreon, and Horace."

And again: "Poet, be happy; sing in the language of your mother, of your infancy, of your loves, your sorrows. The Gascon songs, revived by you, can never be forgotten. Poet, be happy! The language which you love, France will learn to admire and read, and your brother-poets will learn to imitate you.... Spirit speaks to spirit; genius speaks to the heart.

Sing, poet, sing! Envy jeers in vain; your Muse is French; better still, it is Christian, and the laurel at the end of your course has two crowns--one for the forehead of the poet and the other for the heart of the man. Grand actions bring glory; good deeds bring happiness."

Although Jasmin wrote an interesting letter to Madame Lafarge, he did not venture to sing or recite for her relief from prison. She died before him, in 1852.

Endnotes for Chapter XIV.

{1} We adopt the translation of Miss Costello.

CHAPTER XV. JASMIN'S VINEYARD--'MARTHA THE INNOCENT.'

Agen, with its narrow and crooked streets, is not altogether a pleasant town, excepting, perhaps, the beautiful promenade of the Gravier, where Jasmin lived. Yet the neighbourhood of Agen is exceedingly picturesque, especially the wooded crags of the Hermitage and the pretty villas near the convent of the Carmelites. From these lofty sites a splendid view of the neighbouring country is to be seen along the windings of the Garonne, and far off, towards the south, to the snowy peaks of the Pyrenees.

Down beneath the Hermitage and the crags a road winds up the valley towards Verona, once the home of the famous Scaligers.{1} Near this place Jasmin bought a little vineyard, and established his Tivoli.

In this pretty spot his muse found pure air, liberty, and privacy.

He called the place--like his volume of poems--his "Papillote," his "Curlpaper." Here, for nearly thirty years, he spent some of his pleasantest hours, in exercise, in reflection, and in composition.

In commemoration of his occupation of the site, he composed his Ma Bigno--'My Vineyard'--one of the most simple and graceful of his poems.

Jasmin dedicated Ma Bigno to Madame Louis Veill, of Paris. He told her of his purchase of Papillote, a piece of ground which he had long desired to have, and which he had now been able to buy with the money gained by the sale of his poems.

He proceeds to describe the place: