Léopoldine and Victor HUGO write to their friend Louise Bertin.

Léopoldine HUGO & Victor HUGO

Autograph letter signed to Louise Bertin.

Four pages in-8° written jointly by Léopoldine and her father Victor Hugo.

[Paris] Tuesday October 29, 1833.

“Dad told me to write to you because he had something to tell you…”

Tender and moving letter from Victor Hugo co-written with his darling daughter, Léopoldine.

The young girl, nine years old, writes the first sheet in a childish manner, then Victor continues the letter on the following three sheets testifying to the whirlwind he endures given the upcoming performance of his play Marie Tudor . Ending this letter in a more peaceful manner – It seems to me that it rests to write to you. It seems to me that I am refreshing my mind… – Victor Hugo promises Louise Bertin one of his masterpieces, Notre-Dame de Paris.

Léopoldine Hugo's letters are very rare. Obviously, those written by both hands, by the father and his daughter, are most precious.

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“My dear Louise, You must have received my first letter, that is to say the last. The performance of Marie d'Anglais [ Marie Tudor , which premiered on November 6 at the Théâtre de la Porte-Saint-Martin] has been postponed until Saturday. Tomorrow we will see Mr. Edouard and Mr. Armand [Edouard and Armand Bertin, Louise's brothers] at lunch. Dad told me to write to you because he had something to tell you , my letter is not very long but that's because I don't have many things to tell you. Charles will write to you and Dad too. Well my Louise, I love you with all my heart. Your friend Léopoldine Hugo. Answer me a little note, it will make me very happy. »

“ In three days, mademoiselle, I will again come across the charm of Lucrezia Borgia and The King Is Amused . I am buried in the third floor of the theater, lost in the rehearsals, in the tickets to be broadcast, in the stalls, in the dressing rooms, in the galleries, in the tickets to respond, I no longer see, I no longer live, I don't think any more, I am frightened and stupid , not from fear, you know that I make up my mind in advance, but from fatigue.

It seems to me that it gives me a rest to write to you. It seems to me that I am refreshing my mind and soul by writing you this letter which will flow from my whirlwind into your solitude. Something of your calm comes to me and reassures me. We will see Edouard and Armand tomorrow, it will be a great joy for me. In the meantime, pity me, and do not be too hasty for the tribulation which will bring you Notre-Dame de Paris . You will have great success, you will see. I would like to be as sure of mine as I am of yours.

I recommend the letter from Charles [Charles Hugo, Victor's second son, born in 1826]. It is all his, thought, style, spelling, it is the first time that he has written something almost readable (…) Believe that we are here all yours, all from the bottom of our hearts, and let I place at your feet my respectful and devoted friendship. »

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Poet and composer, close friend of Victor Hugo, Louise Bertin (1805.1877), was introduced to music from her earliest childhood by her pianist mother. Her father, Louis François Bertin, director of the journal des Débats, recognized his daughter's musical talent and encouraged her by offering her lessons from the greatest teachers.

Suffering from poliomyelitis, fighting the misogynistic prejudices of the time, Louise, with unfailing determination, took the path of composition: From the age of twenty, she composed two comic operas and an opera based on Goethe's Faust. . Esméralda , composed in 1836, for the Royal Academy of Music, after Notre-Dame de Paris , remains his most striking work; Victor Hugo himself wrote the leaflet.

A woman of spirit and courage, she was praised by the greatest, such as Berlioz, who admired her talents and perseverance: “Mademoiselle Bertin is one of the strongest women of our time. »

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Léopoldine Hugo (1824.1843) is the eldest daughter of the great man. Nicknamed Didine, she was adored by her father. Married in February 1843 to Charles Vacquerie, fate struck six months later: on September 4, in Villequier, the couple embarked for a trip on a sailing boat. A gust of wind overturns the boat; Léopoldine, who cannot swim, is swept away, just like Charles. She had just celebrated her 19th birthday.

Hugo, traveling with Juliette Drouet, only learned of the death of his daughter on September 9, in Rochefort. Waiting for the stagecoach from La Rochelle in a café, he looked through the newspaper Le Siècle of September 6, which reported the event: “ They brought me beer and a newspaper, Le Siècle. I read. This is how I learned that half of my life and my heart was dead ”

In her diary, Juliette Drouet poignantly testifies to the event: “On a kind of large square, we see written in large letters: Café de l'Europe. We enter it. The cafe is deserted at this time of day. There is only one young man, at the first table on the right, reading a newspaper and smoking, opposite the lady at the counter, on the left. We will place ourselves at the very back, almost under a small spiral staircase decorated with a red calico banister. The boy brings a bottle of beer and leaves. Under a table, in front of us, there are several newspapers. Toto takes one, at random, and I take the Charivari. I had barely had time to look at the title when my poor beloved suddenly leaned over me and said to me in a strangled voice, showing me the newspaper he was holding in his hand: “this is what is horrible ! » I look up at him: never, as long as I live, will I forget the expression of nameless despair on his noble face. I had just seen him smiling and happy and, in less than a second, without transition, I found him devastated. Her poor lips were white; her beautiful eyes looked without seeing. Her face and hair were wet from crying. His poor hand was clutched to his heart, as if to prevent it from escaping from his chest. I take the awful newspaper and read… ”

Hugo never recovered from this tragic fate and the memory of Léopoldine was in his heart every day: “Tomorrow at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens, I will leave. You see, I know you're waiting for me. I will go through the forest, I will go across the mountains. I can't stay away from you any longer... »