The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Romance of Madame Tussaud’s, by John Theodore Tussaud.

Transcriber’s Note: Illustrations have been moved from the original position of the printed plates, in order to correspond better with the flow of the text. The List of Illustrations therefore isn’t strictly accurate in regard to where the illustrations may be found. It links directly to the illustration, rather than to the page number indicated.

THE ROMANCE OF MADAME TUSSAUD’S

JOHN THEODORE TUSSAUD

MADAME TUSSAUD AT THE AGE OF 85

From the portrait by Paul Fischer, Court painter to H. M. George IV.

THE ROMANCE
OF
MADAME TUSSAUD’S

BY
JOHN THEODORE TUSSAUD

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
HILAIRE BELLOC

ILLUSTRATED

Logo of the George H. Doran Company

NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

MY WIFE

THROUGH WHOSE KINDLY URGING THESE LEAVES
HAVE GROWN TO THE DIMENSIONS
OF A BOOK

PREFACE

The earliest information we have concerning Madame Tussaud is that she was born in Switzerland on the 7th of December, 1760, and was the only child of Joseph and Marie Grosholtz. Her mother was the daughter of a Swiss clergyman.

She married on the 20th of October, 1795, François Tussaud, who, it appears, was her junior by seven years. We are able to trace his family back as far as 1630, when his great-great-grandfather, one Denis Tusseaud—for that is how he spelt his name—was born.

There is documentary evidence that Denis was brought from Burgy to Mâcon in 1631, his family also coming from Burzy, close by, in 1658.

His descendants lived at Mâcon for more than a century, their occupation being generally that of workers in metal.

The great-grandfather of François was Henry Tusseaud (1684-1717), and his grandfather’s name was Claude (1716-1767).

François’ father (1744-1786) was the first of the family to adopt the present spelling of the name, although we find that various members of the family used the forms Tussot, Tusseau, Tuissiaud, Tussiaut, Tusseaut, Tussiau, or Thusseaud.

Madame Tussaud’s marriage does not appear to have been a happy one, for we learn that in 1800—two years before she came to England—she separated from her husband, of whom we hear nothing further, although he is known to have been living in Paris in the lifetime of his grandsons.

The foundress of the famous Exhibition had two sons, Joseph and Francis. Francis (1800-1873) had several sons, the eldest of whom, Joseph Randall (1831-1892), who was a student and exhibitor at the Royal Academy, was the father of the author of this book.

Mr. John Theodore Tussaud was born in Kensington on the 2nd of May, 1858, and at the age of six was sent to St. Charles’s College, London, where he came under the influence of Cardinal Manning, who took a keen personal interest in his welfare.

Some six years later he was transferred to Ramsgate, where he benefited by the training he received from the Benedictine monks at St. Augustine’s.

In the year 1889 he married Ruth Helena, daughter of Thomas Grew. There are seven sons and three daughters of the marriage.

Mr. Tussaud, like his father, has exhibited at the Royal Academy. His occasional contributions to literature have been welcomed by thoughtful readers, and he is a recognised authority on historical matters relating to the French Revolution and the First Empire.

Seventeen great-grandsons of Madame Tussaud took an active part in the war, all, without exception, serving in the British Army. Two were killed and most of the others wounded.

WILLIAM E. HURT.

Middle Temple, London

	PAGE
Preface by William E. Hurt	vii
Introduction by Hilaire Belloc	25
CHAPTER I
Mr. Tussaud First Enters His Father’s Studio—Reverie—Madame Tussaud’s Uncle Forsakes the Medical Profession for Art—Madame’s Birth and Parentage—A Prince’s Promise	53
CHAPTER II
Curtius Leaves Berne for Paris—The Hôtel d’Aligre—The Court of Louis XV—Madame Arrives in Paris	59
CHAPTER III
Life-size Figures—Museum at the Palais Royal—Exhibition on the Boulevard du Temple—Benjamin Franklin—Voltaire	65
CHAPTER IV
Madame Elizabeth of France—Madame Tussaud Goes to Versailles—Foulon—Three Notable Groups—Gallery of Notorious Criminals	70
CHAPTER V
Eve of the French Revolution—Necker and the Duke of Orléans—Louis XVI’s Fatal Mistakes—His Dismissal of the People’s Favourites	77
CHAPTER VI
Madame Tussaud Recalled from Versailles—The Twelfth of July, 1789—Busts Taken from Curtius’s Exhibition—A Garde Française Slain in the Mêlée	81
CHAPTER VII
Heads of the Revolution—Madame’s Terrible Experiences—The Guillotine in Pawn—Madame Acquires the Knife, Lunette and Chopper	87
CHAPTER VIII
Madame Dines with the Terrorists Marat and Robespierre, Models their Figures and Subsequently Takes Casts of their Heads—She Visits Charlotte Corday in Prison—Death of Curtius—Madame Marries—Napoleon Sits for His Model	92
CHAPTER IX
Madame Tussaud Leaves France for England, Never to Return—Early Days in London—On Tour—Some Notable Figures—Shipwreck in the Irish Channel	98
CHAPTER X
The Bristol Riots—Narrow Escape of the Exhibition—A Brave Black Servant—Arrival at Blackheath	103
CHAPTER XI
An Old Placard—Princess Augusta’s Testimonial—Great Success at Gray’s Inn Road—Madame Initiates Promenade Concerts—Bygone Tableaux	108
CHAPTER XII
Placard (Continued)—The Old Exhibition—Celebrities of the Day—Tussaud’s Mummy—Poetic Eulogism—Removal to Baker Street—The Iron Duke’s Rejoinder—Madame de Malibran	113
CHAPTER XIII
How the Waterloo Carriage was Acquired—A Chance Conversation on London Bridge—The Strange Adventures of an Emperor’s Equipage—Affidavit of Napoleon’s Coachman	120
CHAPTER XIV
Napoleon’s Waterloo Carriage—Description of Its Exterior	127
CHAPTER XV
Description of the Waterloo Carriage (Continued)—Its Interior and Peculiar Contrivances—Brought to England and Exhibited at the London Museum	133
CHAPTER XVI
The St. Helena Carriage—Napoleon Alarms the Ladies—Certificates of Authenticity	139
CHAPTER XVII
Father Matthew Sits for His Model—Tsar Nicholas I. Takes a Fancy to Voltaire’s Chair—A Replica Sent to Him—The Rev. Peter McKenzie’s Exorcism	143
CHAPTER XVIII
Landseer and the Count D’Orsay Visit the Exhibition—A Fright—Norfolk Farmer’s Account of Queen Victoria’s Visit	148
CHAPTER XIX
Wellington Visits the Effigy of the Dead Napoleon, and Sits to Sir George Hayter for Historic Picture—Paintings from Models—Is the Photograph “Taken from Life,” or—?	153
CHAPTER XX
The Story of Colour-Sergeant Bates’s March Through England to Prove Anglo-American Goodwill—Start from Gretna—The Dove of Peace	159
CHAPTER XXI
Sergeant Bates’s Journey Finishes in London Amid a Remarkable Demonstration—His Gift to Madame Tussaud’s	164
CHAPTER XXII
My First Model—Beaconsfield’s Curl—Gladstone’s Collar—John Bright and the Chinaman	171
CHAPTER XXIII
The Tichborne “Claimant”—Nearly an Explosion—The Big Man’s Clothes—The Real Heir—The Claimant’s Release from Prison—Confession and Death	177
CHAPTER XXIV
H. M. Stanley Sits to Joseph Tussaud—The Story of His Life—How He Found Livingstone—A Mysterious Veiled Lady—The Prince Imperial	181
CHAPTER XXV
Count Léon—The Shah of Persia’s Visit—A Weird Suggestion; No Response—King Koffee—Cetewayo	184
CHAPTER XXVI
The Berlin Congress—Lord Beaconsfield and the “Turnerelli Wreath”—“The People’s Tribute” Finds a Home at Tussaud’s—The Sculptor’s Despair—He Constructs His Tombstone and Dies	190
CHAPTER XXVII
The Phœnix Park Murders—We Secure the Jaunting-Car and Pony—Charles Bradlaugh—General Boulanger—Lord Roberts Inspects the Model of Himself	197
CHAPTER XXVIII
My Favourite Portrait—Lord Tennyson Poses Unconsciously Before My Wife—“This Beats Tussaud’s”—Sir Richard Burton—His Widow Clothes the Model	203
CHAPTER XXIX
Removal of the Exhibition to the Present Building—Sleeping Figures—History of the Portman Rooms—The Cato Street Conspiracy—Baron Grant’s Staircase	208
CHAPTER XXX
The King of Siam’s Visit—The Shahzada’s Clothing—The King of Burmah’s War Elephant—Tale of Two Monkeys	215
CHAPTER XXXI
Queen Victoria’s Copperplates—Another Royal Persian Visit—“Perished by Fire”—“Viscount Hinton” and His Organ—The Coquette’s Jewels Lost and Found	220
CHAPTER XXXII
Royal Visitors—King Alphonso and Princess Ena—The Late Emperor Frederick—A Penniless Trio—Princess Charles—The Prince of Wales and Prince Albert	225
CHAPTER XXXIII
The Begum of Bhopal Pays Us a Visit—Lord Rosebery and Lord Annaly—Lord Randolph Churchill—Lady Beatty—Lady Jellicoe and Mrs. Asquith	231
CHAPTER XXXIV
Tussaud’s as Educator—Queer Questions—Wanted, a “Model” Wife—Quaint Extract from an Indian’s Diary	236
CHAPTER XXXV
Stars of the Stage in My Studio—Miss Ellen Terry Has a Cup of Tea—Sir Squire and Lady Bancroft—Sir Henry Irving and the Cabby—We Comply with a Strange Request	242
CHAPTER XXXVI
Literary Sitters—George R. Sims’ Impromptu—His Ordeal in the Chamber of Horrors. George Augustus Sala’s Masterpiece	249
CHAPTER XXXVII
G. A. Sala on Marie Antoinette—The Royal Family—The Queen—Her “Trial,” Condemnation and Death—The Sansons—Sala’s Impressions	254
CHAPTER XXXVIII
More Sitters—Mr. John Burns Walks and Talks—We Buy His Only Suit—Mr. George Bernard Shaw Has to Work for His Living—Four Leading Suffragettes—Christabel’s Model “Speaks”—The Channel Swimmer—General Booth	275
CHAPTER XXXIX
Bank Holiday Queues—Cup-Tie Day—Gentlemen from the North—Bachelor Beanfeasts—The Member for Oldham—A Scare	282
CHAPTER XL
The Mysterious Sun Yat Sen’s Visit—His Escape from the Chinese Legation—The Dargai Tableau—Sir William Treloar Entertains His Little Friends	287
CHAPTER XLI
A Miscellany of Humour—Our Policeman—The Mysterious Lantern—The Danger of Old Catalogues—Stories of Children—Sir Ernest Shackleton’s Model	291
CHAPTER XLII
The Lure of Horrors—Beginnings of the “Dead Room”—Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.R.A., Sketches a Suicide—Burke and Hare—Fieschi’s Infernal Machine—Greenacre—Executions in Public—“Free at Last!”	297
CHAPTER XLIII
The Chamber of Horrors Rumour—No Reward has been or will be Offered—The Constable’s Escapade—A Nocturnal Experience—Dumas’s Comedy of the Chamber—Yeomen of the Halter	307
CHAPTER XLIV
Anecdotal—“Which is Peace?”—Mark Twain at Tussaud’s—Dr. Grace’s Story—Mr. Kipling’s Model—Filial Pride—Bishop Jackson’s Sally—German Inaccuracy	315
CHAPTER XLV
Enemy Models—A Hostile Public—Banishment of Four Rulers—Our Reply to John Bull—Attacks on the Kaiser’s Effigy—Story of an Iron Cross	320
CHAPTER XLVI
Tussaud’s during the War—Chameleon Crowds—The Psychology of Courage—Men of St. Dunstan’s—Poignant Memories—Our Watchman’s Soliloquy	326
CHAPTER XLVII
Three Heroes of the War: Nurse Cavell, Jack Cornwell, V.C., Captain Fryatt—Lords Roberts and Kitchener—Queen Alexandra’s Stick and Violets—The Duke of Norfolk’s Tip	335
CHAPTER XLVIII
A Crinoline Comedy—Mr. Bruce Smith’s Story—An American Lady’s Shilling—My Father’s Meeting with Barnum—The “Cherry-coloured” Cat—“Paganini” and the Tailor—George Grossmith Poses	341
CHAPTER XLIX
We Visit the Old Bailey for Mementoes—A Mock Trial—Relics of Old Newgate—Two Famous Cells—The Newgate Bell	346
CHAPTER L
Tussaud’s in Verse—Tom Hood’s Quatrain—“Alfred among the Immortals”—A Refuge for Cabinet Ministers—Two Dialogues—“This is Fame”	352
CHAPTER LI
Last Scene of All—Madame Tussaud’s Appearance and Character—Her Memoirs Published in 1838—Her Last Words	356

ILLUSTRATIONS

Madame Tussaud at the age of 85	Frontispiece
	PAGE
John Theodore Tussaud	32
Christopher Curtius	56
Louis XVI and the Duke of Orléans	56
Three Views of Voltaire’s Head	57
“The Dying Socrates”	57
Benjamin Franklin	57
Madame Tussaud at the age of 20	72
Marie Antoinette, the Dauphin, and the Duchesse D’Angoulême	72
Madame Elizabeth of France	73
Madame Elizabeth of France, Sister of Louis XVI	73
Model of the Bastille	73
M. Necker	73
Camille Desmoulins	88
Thomas Carlyle	88
Marie Antoinette	88
Jean Baptiste Carrier	88
Knife, Lunette and Chopper of the Original Guillotine	88
The Guillotine	89
Charlotte Corday	89
Jean Paul Marat	89
Maximilien Marie Isidore Robespierre	89
The Princess de Lamballe	89
Danton	89
Madame Tussaud at the age of 42	112
Her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte of Wales and Saxe-Coburg	112
The Bristol Riots	112
Sir Charles Wetherell	112
Her Most Excellent Majesty Queen Adelaide	113
Interior of the Exhibition	113
Daniel O’Connell	113
Madame de Malibran	113
Joseph Tussaud	113
Thorwaldsen’s Celebrated Bust of the Great Napoleon	128
Napoleon’s Military Carriage General View	128
Napoleon’s Military Carriage Scene of its capture at Jenappe	128
The Empress Josephine	128
Napoleon’s Military Carriage The Interior	129
Articles Found in Napoleon’s Carriage	129
Napoleon’s Barouche	129
Father Mathew	144
Nicholas I	144
Voltaire’s Chair	145
Sir Edwin Landseer, R.A.	145
Wellington Visiting the Effigy of Napoleon	160
Sir George Hayter	160
Colour-Sergeant Gilbert H. Bates	161
William Cobbett	161
Richard Cobden	161
John Bright	178
Tichborne Claimant	178
Dr. Livingstone	179
The Prince Imperial	179
Napoleon III	179
Count Léon	192
Edward Tracy Turnerelli	192
The Turnerelli Wreath	192
King Cetewayo	193
General Boulanger	193
Lord Frederick Cavendish	208
Charles Bradlaugh	208
Sir Richard Burton	209
Head of Lord Tennyson	209
Viscount Hinton and His Organ	240
The Surrender of General Cronje	240
William Makepeace Thackeray	241
Sir Squire Bancroft	241
Bust of George Augustus Sala	288
George Augustus Sala	288
T. W. Burgess The Channel Swimmer	288
Effigy of Dr. Sun Yat Sen	289
Dr. Sun Yat Sen	289
The Children’s Lord Mayor	289
Charles Peace	320
Marquis of Hartington	320
Burke and Hare	320
Sir Thomas Lawrence	320
Key of the Bastille	320
John Williams	320
William Marwood The Hangman	321
Dr. Jackson Bishop of London	321
Count Zeppelin	321
Bismarck	321
Jack Sheppard	321
The Old Newgate Bell	321
Edith Cavell	352
Jack Cornwell, V. C.	352
Captain Fryatt	352
Field-Marshal Earl Kitchener	352
Alfred Austin	353
Tom Hood	353
Francis Tussaud	353

INTRODUCTION
BY
HILAIRE BELLOC

INTRODUCTION
By Hilaire Belloc

This is a fascinating book and its fascination consists in two things attaching to its subject: first that the famous collection of modelled portraits which has become a sort of national institution in England under the name of “Madame Tussaud’s” has its roots in the greatest period of modern history, the French Revolution; second, in that the complete and growing record has passed through so many changes and has yet survived.

Even though the famous collection had dealt with nothing more than the main figures of the Revolution and of the great wars that followed it, it would have been a possession of permanent and lasting historical value. I am not sure that if it had so remained, stopped short at the effigies of those now long dead, it would not now receive a greater respect. It might well in that case have become something recognised as a national possession, protected and preserved by the national government. For the prolongation of the record right on into our own time, while it very greatly increases the real value of the collection as a piece of historical evidence, yet deprives it of that illusion which men cannot avoid where history is concerned: the illusion that things thoroughly passed are in some way greater and of more consequence than contemporary things.

This continuity of the great collection—so long as it is maintained with judgment in selection and without too much yielding to momentary fame is none the less a thing to be very thankful for. Already those of us who, like the present writer, are well on into middle age, can judge how the younger generation is beginning to regard as historical these simulacra, which, when they were first modelled, seemed in our own youth insignificant because they were contemporary. To our children (who are now grown and are young men and women), Disraeli, Gladstone, Bismarck—all the group that were old but living men in the eighties (Disraeli died at the beginning of them, Bismarck long after their close)—are what to us were Louis-Philippe, Garibaldi, Palmerston, and the process properly continued will be invaluable. We have already more than 130 years of record. There is no reason why it should not extend to the two centuries.

It often happens that a thing of great value to history, a piece of evidence which we now find invaluable, has come to us by an accident, the motive of its creation not historical at all nor really connected with record. Indeed of the bulk of historical evidence which we use to-day for the reconstruction of the past only a small proportion—official documents—are of the nature of deliberate records. And that proportion of evidence is on the whole the worst as material, for official documents always have a motive underlying them, and they never give one a vivid picture. The great bulk of the material with which we used to build up the past and make it live again for ourselves is accidental. And so it is with this great collection.

The motive at first was merely that of a waxwork show. The remarkable woman who created the collection did so as a matter of business. The exhibits were intended to satisfy no more than contemporary curiosity. But they have become a piece of historical evidence which increases in value with every year. Whatever you may read (and the accounts are always contradictory) of some man prominent in the past, whatever picture or sculpture you may find of him (and these are often deliberately flattering or in some other way untrue) the physical impression of him will never be so full and so exact as in the case of an effigy made by a contemporary who saw him, watched him, knew him, and whose whole motive was exactitude in reproduction.

Here there does indeed arise the question of the medium. You cannot conceive of a better medium than wax among all the known mediums for production of effigies of human beings. Yet it is not perfect. And it is precisely because the likeness is so great, precisely because the effect is so parallel to that of reality, that we note the minor details in which illusion is not achieved. When a man sees a bust of marble he does not expect to find illusion. The greatest portrait statuary can never be more than a symbol. But the wax effigy aims at exact reproduction. To put it in extreme terms, the ideal of the modeller in wax would be to reproduce a figure such that one knowing the original could be deceived and think he had found again his friend dead or sleeping. When a wax effigy reproduces a known and real person, especially a person whom we ourselves have come across, the discrepancy between reality and its copy is clearer. But there is this strong evidence in support of the success which modelling in wax has reached, that where we are dealing with something unknown, some imaginary person, it is possible to create, in spite of the immobility of the figure, an illusion of life. Everyone who has visited these collections will testify to that. With a person whom one has seen in the flesh the little details in which the wax does not tally with the flesh nor immobility with life, stand out clear. That is especially the case with those whose complexion is difficult to imitate. It is also the case in the attachment of the hair. And I have further noticed that the direction of the eyes makes a difference, the figure being more lifelike as a rule when the eyes are cast down or averted, than when a direct look is imitated. But it remains true that with an imaginary person when you are free to suppose that the person had a complexion of the sort easily imitated in wax, and where you are further free to presume the pose, you can get as near to reality in this medium as it is possible for human art to achieve.

Therein, then, lies the great value of this thing. It is a witness to history, and as I have said, one increasingly valuable as time proceeds.

Still it is with what is chiefly historical in this gallery of figures and especially with the tradition of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars, that we are most concerned. And the Tussaud collection has this added interest that it sprung as it were from the revolutionary time. Its origins lay in that. Its first fame was due to an emigration from France into England, and it still remains much the best effort at physical reconstruction which we have to-day.

The reason is that the lady who founded this institution was not only herself a contemporary of but an actor in the principal events of that time. She came by a series of accidents into direct touch with one personality after another. She left a record of each. She was a personal and convincing witness and her work remains. She is just as much a person of the Revolution and of the Napoleonic period as any one of those whom she modelled for our benefit. And that is (let us remember) of special value in that one is in the spirit of one’s time.

The artist deliberately reconstructing a bust through plastic art is always in danger of failing through a lack of the necessary sympathy between the time in which he lives and the time in which his subject lived. The truth of this is expressed very sharply in modern attempts at reconstructing mediæval sculpture. It has been done. It is singularly successful, for instance, in the central porch of Notre Dame in Paris. But as a rule it fails. The modern man either works from a modern model, or at any rate with modern expressions and modern features at the back of his mind. One conspicuous instance occurs to me, the modern figures upon Lichfield. They are as grievously out of their supposed time as are the figures of Tennyson’s “Idylls of the Kings.” The Knights of the Round Tables of Tennyson’s version are the gentlemen of pegtopped trousers who were contemporary with the poet. They have been to public schools and to universities. They would be horrified at the dropping of aitches, and they have often attended at services which were fully choral. They would have called the inhabitants of the country which they visited “natives.” That is what Tennyson made of Geraint and Launcelot and his odious Arthur.

I am afraid one cannot say much more for the sculptures that I have in my mind. They are dressed in mediæval armour, but the faces that look out from the helmets are the faces to be seen in the London clubs to-day. They are faces devoid of simplicity and strength. They are not the faces of the Middle Ages.

You have the same thing in historical painting, and that is why historical painting usually looks so ridiculous in the generation after it was made. We all know those historical paintings which our grandfathers bought and which still disfigure the large rooms of private houses, where you have Richard I of England charging the Saracens (he, an Angevin!), his face glowing with the emotions of the football field.

Now this prime difficulty and error in pictorial and plastic record in the past you can only avoid by the advantage of contemporary work, and this is where the great value of this collection comes in. All its work is contemporary, and we can to-day, after an interval of more than a hundred years, weigh the importance of that point. The revolutionary figures sometimes look odd to us precisely because their real aspect has been so vividly preserved. The hand that modelled Marat was a hand of Marat’s age. It touched the flesh of the dead man. The eyes that received the conception reproduced by the hands, gazed upon Marat himself as he lay back dead.

And here it is convenient to introduce that essential character in the great collection—the genius of its originator.

The whole thing, its character, long tradition and establishment—is the creation of one remarkable woman, and of her we ought to have some full biography. I know of none. She has at least the rare advantage of having propagated her name justly and the thing she created is identified with her. It is not often that history acts with so little irony and with so much generosity. Her energy was much more remarkable than that of those very few women who have created and organised permanent businesses, for it was not only her judgment and initiative which created the commercial side of the collection: it was also her own talent and industry, the work of her own hands, that laid the foundation of it all. Most of the early portraits were the direct product of her skill and it is from her that the continuous tradition of the place descends. Her sons learnt their art from their mother and carried it on to the third generation which still continues it. It was she who took all the critical decisions, she who steered the fortunes of the family through the crisis of the Revolution, who determined to take the collection over to England, who conceived the idea of making it a permanent record by adding contemporaries year after year.

It is not often that one has this intimate admixture of personality with an institution, and when one gets it it has an astonishing effect in vivifying the whole. When an institution is thus the product of a character at once highly energetic and highly individual, it is as though a living thing continued on long beyond the term of a human life. It is, in the strict and original sense of the word, “inspired.” You get that quality, of course, in all literature, and in some of the corporations which remarkable men and women have founded, but very rarely in a piece of business in an institution of affairs. Here you get it, and the more you read of the woman’s life and character the more you understand the success of her effort and its vitality.