Madame Tussaud
By PHYLLIS D. HICKS
AHUNDRED years ago, on April 16th, 1850—a year before the Great Exhibition—there died in London an old lady of ninety who for a century and a half has been synonymous with a world-famous permanent exhibition—the redoubtable Madame Tussaud. Even a comparatively cursory examination of her life and memoirs shows that the collection now housed (to quote
The Times of July 14th, 1884) " in commodious and handsome premises in close proximity to the Metropolitan Railway Station " has a background of solid history and personal association which brings us very close to many of the people represented in it.
Marie Gresholtz was born in 1760, the posthumous daughter of a Swiss cavalry officer. On her mother's side she came of a very long-lived family, which had included two centenarians in recent generations. At the age of six she was adopted by her maternal uncle, a doctor whose name was Latinised to Curtius. His skill in making wax models for anatomical purposes attracted the admira- tion of the Prince de Conti, who invited him to Paris and promised him his patronage—a promise which was abundantly fulfilled. Marie went with her uncle, and became his assistant at a very early age. They lived in the Palais Royal, and here the child met many literary and other celebrities who were attracted to a house which Curtius's eminence in a fashionable art had made a centre of intellectual life. Thus Marie was petted by Voltaire and Rousseau ; she danced with Benjamin Franklin, admiring his remarkably " fine legs," and chatted with Lafayette. She also observed—and remembered, preparing herself to make models of these people for those who came after. Of Voltaire she not only made a wax mask two months before his death, but left in her Memoirs, which Francis Herve edited in 1838, a pen-picture which still lives. The portrait is typical of her power of seeing the significance of detail, and also of the kind of perception which makes clothes and frippery as much part of the whole man as his facial features and general deportment. She noted Voltaire's small face " which had a shrivelled appearance," the " thin neck," " the large, flowing wig in the mode of Louis XIV," his " brown coat with gold lace at its button-holes, cocked hat and large shoes, striped silk stockings " and " rich lace from neck-cloth to waist," and " the powder and sword " of the period.
The frontispiece to the Memoirs shows us a girl of eighteen, with large dark eyes and a light-hearted charm of expression. At the end of the book is another portrait, taken in 1838, which shows an old lady, her mouth hard and embittered, and her eyes hidden by spectacles. The change from the youthful grace of Marie Gresholtz to the saddened but indomitable Madame Tussaud is the story of the Memoirs, and most of it took place in the twenty years that turned the century.
Marie's skill in wax-modelling brought her the patronage and indeed the friendship of Louis XVI's sister, Madame Elizabeth, and she spent much time at Versailles, where she lived in close icontact with the Princess, for whom she conceived the warmest Admiration and affection. Madame Elizabeth's devout nature made per use her newly acquired ability in modelling to make wax copies pf the deformed limbs of those who.came to her for help, and these !were hung up in the churches of Sainte Genevieve and Saint Sulpice
in the hope that some miracle of healing would result. Her generosity to those in need was apt to overrun her allowance. Rousseau himself applied to her at frequent intervals for help, and the Princess would despatch Marie Gresholtz with funds which she had sometimes to borrow from Marie herself.
Early in 1789 Curtius sent for his niece to come back to Paris from Versailles, evidently fearing the storm ahead. She obeyed, and found her uncle's circle of literary celebrities had been changed into a group of fanatical demagogues. During the following years Curtius's attitude to public affairs and public figures is, to say the least of it, obscure, but was probably dictated by a desire for personal safety and a conviction that his own heroism could not help the King and would endanger both his family and himself. Thus, after, the fall of the Bastille, Marie joined others in dancing on the ruins, and went on an expedition to explore the dungeons— where she nearly fell downstairs, and would have perished had it not been for Robespierre's rescuing arm. This was not the first time that Marie had found horrors underground, for in their exhibition in the Palais Royal she and her uncle had included a " caverne de voleurs," the precursor of the Chamber of Horrors. Her next contact with Robespierre was of an even more gruesome kind, for he was one of the victims whose head, immediately after his death, she was called upon to model. Others included her own beloved Madame Elizabeth, and the lovely Princesse de Lamballe. Marat, complete with carpet-bag containing his personal linen, took refuge in the house of Curtius in 1792, and lived under the same roof as Marie for a week. Later she was called upon to model him, too, with Charlotte Corday—this time for the benefit of David, the artist, for his picture of the assassination ; apparently the artist was more squeamish than the young lady.
In spite of his acqhiescence in the Revolution, Curtius had to leave France, and during his absence Marie and her mother were committed to La Force for three months. Here they were fellow- prisoners of Josephine de Beauharnais and her little daughter— afterwards Queen Hortense of Holland. Marie was filled with admiration for Josephine's self-control and courage, and the regard seems to have been shared, for in 1798, after the Battle of the Nile, Josephine persuaded Napoleon to " undergo the operation " of having a mask made, and specially urged Marie not to hurt the General.
By this time Marie had become Madame Tussaud, but the
marriage was of only about six years' duration, and the pair had separated before she brought her collection to England in 1802. She had some difficulty in getting the necessary passport, as Fouche maintained that artists could not be spared from France. On arrival she first " planted herself " at the Lyceum in the Strand, but later moved to Blackheath, Her fame and that of her collection quickly eclipsed that of Mrs. Salmon, who had held sway during most of the eighteenth century, and the exhibition travelled all over the country, visiting the principal cities of the United Kingdom. In 1814 it was nearly submerged in the Irish Sea, and, according to The Gentleman's Magazine, Madame Tussaud and her sons landed in Cork penniless. In 1831 her exhibition narrowly escaped being destroyed by fire in the Bristol riots. Seven years later it was moved to permanent quarters Ap Baker Street, where it remained until 1884, when it was transferred to Marylebone Road. The opening of the new building was attended by many distinguished persons, who were, one hood, as deeply impressed as The Times representative by the marble staircase, costing £20,000, which had been brought from Kensington House. Perhaps they were equally relieved to find that the horrors had been relegated to the basement, where visitors could see the guillotine which decapitated Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette and " other articles of a ghastly nature."
After Madame Tussaud's death the exhibition was carried on by
her sons and grandsons. On March 18th, 1925, however, the treasures which had escaped the perils of the Irish Sea and the fury of the Bristol mob met their fate in a disastrous fire, from which only a remnant was saved. Probably few who watched those soar- mEalny pone o naanld memoriest t eorfi nVg o I ot aoior ert and itogulissaemaues realised I.Mdadtamte
Versailles were being lost.
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