Above: Portrait of André de Fouquières on the cover of his book "Fifty Years of Panache" (Paris, Pierre Horay "Flore," 1951).
Source: IberLibro.com.
Above: Maxim's Restaurant, 2024.
Source: "Un mito convertido en un peque├▒o infierno" ("A myth turned into a small hell") by Philippe Regol, October 24, 2024 (via
Observación Gastronomica2).
Above: Cartoon of Rachel and her "showy" actress friend.
Source: Ici Paris, "Le bonheur en fiacre" ("Happiness in a fiacre"), October 14, 1947, p. 2. National Library of France (via Gallica).
18. Scrapbook: 1945-1947 (continued)
Scrapbook: 1947 In February, 1947 Rachel hosted a "reception" at her apartment for several of her friends from the arts and entertainment world. It seems to have been a literary get-together over glasses of port. This account appeared in the entertainment weekly Une Semaine de Paris:
"Porto at the home of Mlle Rachel Dorange, whose face has been familiar to Parisians for several years. DonΓÇÖt we see her, even in the harshest weather, driving her horse-drawn carriage with a singularly manly courage? It was Rachel Dorange who, in the past, traveled around Europe on horseback, toured France in her carriage, and walked from Paris to Nice. She even appeared on stage at the Théâtre de lΓÇÖÉtoile, in a sketch by Souplex, and reciting poems; she was also seen as a horsewoman at the Mogador, with Souplex as the animal trainer, and soon Rachel will be the star of the Bar Napoléon, 'Aux Deux Bouteilles de fine.'
The Théâtre de lΓÇÖÉtoile appearance may refer to Rachel's 1946 debut at the Salle Iéna in a sketch by Raymond Souplex. The Mogador is a venerable Paris music hall theatre, built in 1913. It is still a venue for major theatrical productions.
Animal training doesn't seem to figure in Raymond Souplex's resume, so perhaps he was playing a role in a sketch based on Rachel's dressage performance. The Bar Napoléon must be the Abri Napoléon that Rachel worked at in 1940. "Aux Deux Bouteilles de fine" ("Two Bottles of Brandy") sounds like the title of a song or poem.
"During the reception, Madame Ritou Lancyle humorously recited poems from the 17th century. In attendance were Madame Xzanto, Madame Suzanne Corgyll, Albert Maillard, Vincent Scotto, Mr. Burnadet, Michel Georges-Michel, Mr. R. Heine, Count J. Bouët-Willaumez, Mr. Jacques Cellerier, and others."
The whole point of printing a guest list in an article like this is to show off prominent names that are likely to be recognized by readers. The names listed here were presumably familiar to Parisians in 1947 but are mostly forgotten now.
Nevertheless, some still show up in web searches. Madame Ritou Lancyle was a film actor; Vincent Scotto (1874-1952) was a well-known composer, and of course we know Michel Georges-Michel from page 57.
The gushing little piece was written by André de Fouquières (1874-1959), himself a familiar figure in Paris of 1947. Here's his Google AI Overview (2026-06-16):
"Fouquières... was a prominent French socialite, man of letters, and arbiter of elegance.... Known as the ultimate 'man of the world,' he was a highly sought-after lecturer, author, and host of high-society events. [He] became the face of Parisian high fashion and social glamour...."
He was also likely one of Rachel's guests.
May 6, 1947 saw Rachel's notorious stage appearance at the Théâtre de L'Étoile (page 46), but in June she was trolling for fares in front of Maxim's restaurant. From Le Populaire de l'Ouest:
"A horse-drawn carriage came trotting along. For with the arrival of fine weather, the procession of Parisian carriages has reappeared.
"Undoubtedly the most elegant and best-harnessed is the one that Mlle Rachel Dorange, the former champion of long-distance horseback rides, offers outside MaximΓÇÖs. It is a stylish cab drawn by a classy trotter heading toward the Bois.
"One notable detail: Mlle Dorange specializes in picking up very pretty women – those who are alone and appreciate her masterful driving." The last paragraph suggests that, as a woman, Rachel may have been able to offer a specialized service that has become much more common in recent years – that of providing transportation for women who do not want to deal with male cab drivers.
In August, 1947 this strange note appeared in L'Intransigeant:
"Rachel, the Coachwoman, Flees from Competition. Rachel Dorange and her horse Coco are no longer the only horse-drawn cab in Paris. Rachel discovered she had a competitor just as the summer heat and the influx of foreign visitors were poised to allow her to capitalize on her uniqueness. Furious, she decided to take 'Coco' and her carriage to Deauville, stopping in Mantes and at La Commanderie."
The note seems nonsensical on the face of it. Rachel was hardly the kind of person to flee from a single competitor, especially when she had encouraged other women to take up cab driving and especially when an influx of tourists would ensure more than enough business for everyone.
More than likely Rachel simply decided to join the exodus of Parisians who traditionally take their summer vacations in August. Deauville, 201 kilometers northwest of Paris, was one of her favourite destinations. Mantes-la-Jolie is about a quarter of the way there and Sainte-Colombe-la-Commanderie is a little over half way.
In October, 1947 Ici Paris published a humorous anecdote about Rachel, illustrated with a cartoon (left).
"Happiness in a fiacre. This charming woman, dressed as a horsewoman and wearing a flower in her buttonhole – whom one frequently encounters between LÉtoile and the Madeleine while driving a fiacre – is none other than Rachel Dorange.
"An accomplished horsewoman, her equestrian feats earned her a certain degree of fame not too long ago. Perched on her seat, Rachel Dorange goes about her new profession with genuine good humor. She does it to make a living, of course! But above all, so she doesnΓÇÖt have to part with her horse 'Coco,' an old companion from her glory days.
"Recently, she drove one of her friends – a somewhat showy actress – to a trendy spot.
"'My dear,' said the latter, as 'Coco' trotted along, 'I don't know which way to turn anymore – rehearsals, tea parties, receptions, phone calls, dressmakers, appointments, requests for autographs, declarations of love – IΓÇÖm no longer my own person, and IΓÇÖm utterly exhausted. Ah! TheyΓÇÖre absolutely right when they say: pour vivre heureux... "'Exactly," Dorange interrupted. Then, with a smile full of philosophy: 'Pour vivre heureux, vivons cochers [To live happily, live as a cabbie]. Giddy-up, 'Coco'!"
Charming as it is, this little anecdote sounds like one of those anonymous jokes that are attributed to famous people in order to make them more interesting or to give them the ring of authenticity.
The point of the story is nothing more than a pun. The showy actress is quoting a line from a poem titled "Le Grillon" ("The Cricket") by Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian (1755-1794) in which a cricket, hidden in a flower garden, envies a passing butterfly until a group of children chase it down and tear it to pieces. The cricket concludes that "Pour vivre heureux, vivons caché" ("To live happily, live hidden"). The line was quoted so often that it became a French proverb.
The Rachel in the anecdote commits a pun by twisting "vivons caché" into "vivons cochers". On the other hand a story like this could have a real-life point. Conceivably Rachel may have heard some of her well-heeled clients claim to be envious of her "simple" life without understanding that living a so-called simple life is not as simple as it might seem. In this context "Vivons cochers" could be a sarcastic retort.