with English
ale, and nourishing his body with English beef. He would not look at a
French newspaper, nor would he even read a letter from home. Finally
he came back to Paris, anglicized to his very galoshes. Gautier says
that when they met, Vabre gave him a 'shake hand' almost energetic
enough to pull the arm from the shoulder. He spoke with so strong an
English accent that it was difficult to understand him; Vabre had
almost forgotten his mother tongue. Gautier congratulated the exile
upon his return, and said, 'My dear Jules Vabre, in order to translate
Shakespeare it is now only necessary for you to learn French.'
Gautier laid the foundations of his great fame by wearing a red
waistcoat the first night of _Hernani_. All the young men were
fantastic in those days, and the spirit of carnival was in the whole
romantic movement. Gautier was more courageously fantastic than other
young men. His costume was effective, and the public never forgot him.
He says with humorous resignation: 'If you pronounce the name of
Theophile Gautier before a Philistine who has never read a line of our
works, the Philistine knows us, and remarks with a satisfied air, "Oh
yes, the young man with the red waistcoat and the long hair." ... Our
poems are forgotten, but our red waistcoat is remembered.' Gautier
cheerfully grants that when everything about him has faded into
oblivion this gleam of light will remain, to distinguish him from
literary contemporaries whose waistcoats were of soberer hue.
The chapter in his _Histoire du Romantisme_ in which Gautier tells how
he went to the tailor to arrange for the most spectacular feature of
his costume is lively and amusing. He spread out the magnificent piece
of cherry-colored satin, and then unfolded his design for a
'pour-point,' like a 'Milan cuirass.' Says Gautier, using always his
quaint editorial _we_, 'It has been said that we know a great many
words, but we don't know words enough to express the astonishment of
our tailor when we lay before him our plan for a waistcoat.' The man
of shears had doubts as to his customer's sanity.
'Monsieur,' he exclaimed, 'this is not the fashion!'
'It will be the fashion when we have worn the waistcoat once,' was
Gautier's reply. And he declares that he delivered the answer with a
self-possession worthy of a Brummel or 'any other celebrity of
dandyism.'
It is no part of this paper to describe the innocently absurd and
good-naturedly extravagant th
|