The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-07-20

not surprised, to have the curt reply, "Oufl
Rachel is the onely grGRde dame on the
tay-ahtre. Sontag, when / knew her. was q
mature woman, and my senior by many years;
and yet, notwithstanding this, and a know
ledge of the world besides, that showed itself
in all she did and said, and which rivalled
that of her gambling husband, she seemed to
me to diffuse around her all the influence of
youth. freshness as delicate as the first
perfumes of early spring was hers, an unaf-
fected softness of manner, that had
the gratefulness of balm, and it's virtue.
She had the tenderness and crispness
Of youth, without its greenness. have rarely
met girl of seventeen so young as Sontag
was at forty-five. | have said nothing of her
beauty; for that was well known to all men.
And when saw it still preserved, 1 then first
recollected that | had heard of it before / was
old enough to know what woman's beauty
was; but had not heard of her hand, which
was beautiful enough to worship, as we may
worship all perfection. And this woman, so
beautiful, so winning in her ways, so charm
ing as singer and an actress, was also clever
i'll the most attractive form of female
ceverness. She talked well, without SEN
tentiousness and without learning; and she
had humor, as much as becomes a truly
feminine woman. l shall never forget
her description of the pompous dulness of the
dinners and the evenings at the country
houses of English noblemen and gentlemen
to which she was invited, after her marriage
with Count ROssi and her retirement from the
stage The essays in gallantry of men who
had been fox-hunting or shooting all day, and
who came home tired and hungry to get
themselves up in festive apparel, and to eat
heavy dinner and drink heavy wine, were not
much to her taste; although if she were half
as lively under their infliction as she was in
describing it, she must have been priceless
creature amid all that dulness. Only one in
dication of her humble origin and of self-con-
sciousness escaped her. l happened to men,
ton that l had followed a procession,
in a large city, for the purpose of observ-
ing the people called out by its passage,
and that [ had found the prettiest women
among those in the lower conditions
of hfe;-'Ah, she said, slightly dropping
her eyelids, sit is always So" Her sudden
death in Mexico was generally attributed to
poison, her husband, it is said, having thus
avenged himself of her love for a tenor
singer who was in their company. 1 have
never believed this story. Count Rossi may
not have been too good a man thus to relieve
himself of a woman who by her own exer-
tions, had restored him, in great measure
at least, the fortune he had wasted; but she
loved the unworthy husband for whom she
labored
Rachel talked more of the stage and of
literature than Sontag did. She made an ad-
mission to me one evening that was surprising
She had been playing ''Ph@dre, with gran
deur, and great power over the emotions of
her audience; but she spoke to me, with a
naturalness that she never surpassed on the
stage, of her weariness of French tragedy, of
its sentimentality, its prosiness and its stlted
verse. ''Oh that L had learned English, that
might play Shakespeare but now it is too
of ~ .aHiC al 4,
Racine, or even with Corneille?" mo; Cor
nellie has moments, and one can make some
thing out of Racine by much study of the
best parts [ complimented her upon her
'Ph@dre, which, although an unpleasant
character, seemed to me one that gave
scope for fine acting. eyes, l have an
opportunity of doing something; but that
boy" waving her hand as if "Hippo-
lytus" were present, ''what does he do but
spout nonsense! And that old man with his
monster (referring to Theramenes descrip-
ton OF the death of Hippolyte) 'and all the
rest-hGw stupid (6etGJit isl Give us Shake
speare."
If this was a delicate compliment to man
of Shakespeare's race andsa "a student of his
works, it was a very elaborate and super
tiuous one. L am inclined to think that it
was not so; but a genuine expression of
opinion and feeling which she might not have
been willing to avow to a Frenchman. She
was right as to her capacity. To see her play
'Cleopatra" or Lady Macbeth" would have
been worth avoyaget to Europe She was born to
play-perhaps with the capacity to be-"Lady
Macbeth" and, except her black hair, to
look the wife of Cawdor, who, / de
not doubt was just such 1.-the,
spiritual, alluring female tend as she;
or perhaps, bright, and sunny, and sweet, and
surely yellow haired, like Lydia Thompson,
who herself mas capacity for tragedy in the
black, bony 'Lady Macbeths" that stalk
about the stage ard stare out of pictures,
they might drive soldier to seek death upon
the field; bat they could tempt him neither to
marriage or to murder.
The last time l saw Rachel to speak with
her was on the occasion of her last
appearance in the full possession of her
powers 1 was in Boston, and she played
''Adrienne lie Couvreur." Of course, L did
not miss that performance, and it was un-
usually firm and finished, even for her. 1t
seemed to me as if she were playing it
for her own delight, and that she gave herself
up to the impersonation of the unhappy ac-
tress with such abandonment of self that she
really suffered the pangs she simulated, and
inflicted them upon her own soul with fierce
ioy. Walking in the lobby, between two
acts, / met the manager, Mr.. Barry, who soon
asked me if 1 was acquainted with Mile.
Rachel, and then kindly proposed that 1
should 90 behind the scenes and send my
name to her dressing-room. L did SO. My
card found her ready dressed far the next act,
and she came Immediately out. stood by
the front, and she came on at the back. The
stage was deep, and down the long and dimly-
lighted aisle between the side scenes and the
wall she came with swift steps, the golden
,o,,,;,,s of ar Vauatian head dress cgittaripc q,