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La Villette, therefore, determined to have, like her rival, a central democratic and social club, and yesterday she inaugurated in the Salle Marseillaise an opposition to the "Club Favié." In some respects the Marseillaise club is even more democratic than her parent.
She wanted to sing, she wanted to hang over her balcony and teach the un-vocal French the "Marseillaise." Yet, when she had opened the door, she could not even speak. And Clay, too, after one long look at her, only held out his arms. It was rather a long time, indeed, before they found any words at all. Audrey was the first, and what she said astounded her.
Sembrich has never been a failure and she is too old to begin now!" she is reported to have said to a friend. Emma Calvé's date of birth is recorded as 1864 in some of the musical dictionaries. This would make her 53 years old. Her singing of the Marseillaise a year ago at the Allies Bazaar at the Grand Central Palace proved to me that her retirement from the Opera was premature.
The crashing of the trees as they fell, the blows of crowbars on the stones, the confused roaring of thousands of voices, the Marseillaise sung in chorus, and the irregular cannonading which resounded from the direction of the Rue Saint-Denis, all composed a strident, stupefying, tempestuous harmony, beside which Beethoven's Tempest would have seemed like the buzzing of a bee.
"If we were all as good as gold," said Unity pensively, "and as wise as as Socrates, and wore black cockades, and cared only for the Washington March, and hated Buonaparte, and the Devil, how tiresome life would be! Myself, I like variety and the Marseillaise!" "Then you differ from the other rogues only in liking the Rogue's March," said Uncle Edward. "Jacqueline, more sugar!"
They cheered loudly, closed up the gap in their line, and went on steadily as before. Some one began to sing the Marseillaise, and in an instant the song, like fire in dry grass, spread along a vast front.
The little boy dutifully attending Toff to the gate, observed with grave surprise that his father snapped his fingers gaily at starting, and hummed the first bars of the Marseillaise. "Something is going to happen," said Toff's boy, on his way back to the house. From the Regent's Park to Blackacre Buildings is almost a journey from one end of London to the other.
To these large crowds were attracted, both from political motives and from a desire in the rural districts to hear the great speakers, Lamartine and others, who had a national renown. Many of the speeches were inflammatory. The health of the king was never drunk on these occasions, but the "Marseillaise" was invariably played.
Long lines of djins pass by, dragging, as fast as their naked legs can carry them, the crew of the 'Triomphante, who are shouting and fanning themselves. The Marseillaise is heard everywhere; English sailors are singing it, gutturally, with a dull and slow cadence like their own "God Save."
It is said that flowers were placed at this figure every day for forty years. When General Joffre and the French army entered Alsace in August, 1914, the joy of the people knew no bounds. How they wept and rejoiced as the bands played the Marseillaise! French flags that had been hidden away for forty-three years were brought out and such scenes of rejoicing have rarely been witnessed.
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