"PARIS, Sept. 10, 1841.
"I have already had five lessons from Signor Garcia, the brother of Madame Malibran. I have to begin again from the beginning, to sing scales up and down slowly and with great care, then to practise the shake—awfully slowly, and to try to get rid of the hoarseness if possible. Moreover, he is very particular about the breathing. I trust I have made a happy choice. Anyhow, he is the best master, and expensive enough—twenty francs for an hour! But what does that signify if only he can teach me to sing?"
A fortnight later she writes to Madame Lindblad:—
"I am well satisfied with my singing-master. With regard to my weak points especially, he is excellent. I think it very fortunate for me that there exists a Garcia. And I believe him also to be a very good man. If he takes but little notice of us apart from his lessons, well—that cannot be helped; but I am very much pleased, nay, enchanted, with him as a teacher."
And again to Herr Forsberg:—
PARIS,, February 1, 1842.
"Garcia's method is the best of our time, and the one which all here are striving to follow."
In a still later letter she writes:—
PARIS,, March 7, 1842.
"To-day, four years ago, I made my début in 'Der Freischütz.'
"My singing is getting on quite satisfactorily now. I rejoice heartily in my voice,—it is clear and sonorous, with more firmness, and much greater agility. A great, great deal still remains to be done; but the worst is over. Garcia is satisfied with me."
The teaching she now received was evidently the exact thing she needed; for of the management of the breath, the emission of the voice, the blending of its registers, and other technical details upon which even the most perfect singers must depend in great measure for success, she knew nothing.
We have seen Jenny Lind's opinion of her master: what of Garcia's opinion of his pupil? During my own lessons with him he would often speak of the Swedish Nightingale, and hold her up as an example in the most embarrassing way. Among other things he remarked that he had never heard her sing even a hair's-breadth out of tune, so perfect was her natural ear. Moreover, when she made a mistake, he only had to point it out once, explain the cause of the error, and show how it could be rectified: the fault would never be repeated.
Mdlle. Lind's course of study under Garcia lasted in all ten months, by which time she had learned all that it was possible for any master to teach her. After this period she had improved so wonderfully under his magical tuition that, as he himself picturesquely expressed it, she was able to look down on her former efforts as from a mountain to a plain. The result for which she had so ardently longed, so patiently waited, so perseveringly laboured, was attained at last. Her voice, no longer suffering from the effects of the cruel fatigue and the inordinate amount of over-exertion which had so lately endangered, not merely its wellbeing, but its very existence, had now far more than recovered its pristine vigour,—it had acquired a rich depth of tone, a sympathetic sweetness, a bird-like charm in the silvery clearness of its upper register, which at once impressed the listener with the feeling that he had never before heard anything in the least degree resembling it.
Few human organs are perfect. It is quite possible that other voices may have possessed qualities which this did not—for voices of exceptional beauty are nearly always characterised by an individuality of expression which forms by no means the least potent of their attractions. But the listener never stopped to analyse the qualities of Mdlle. Lind's voice, the marked individuality of which set analysis at defiance. By turns full, sympathetic, tender, sad or brilliant, it adapted itself so perfectly to the artistic conception of the song it was interpreting, that singer, voice, and song were one.
"With such rare power at command, she was able, without effort, to give expression to every phase of the conception which she had originally formed by the exercise of innate genius alone. Her acting had grown up with her from infancy, and formed part of her inmost being. She had found no one in Paris capable of teaching her anything that could improve that, though she thought it necessary to take lessons in deportment. The rest she had studied for herself, though she had naturally gained experience by observation of others.
"She had acted to herself the part of Norma, which had been the last rôle she had undertaken in Stockholm before setting out for Paris, and calmly passed judgment upon her own performance. That she was satisfied with it one cannot doubt, for she had studied the difficult character of her heroine to such good purpose that she had reconciled all its apparent incongruities, and elevated it into a consistent whole, dramatic and musical, breathing poetry and romance from beginning to end, yet as true to nature as she was herself, and no longer fettered by the fatal technical weakness which had so long stood between her ideal and its perfect realisation. There was no weakness now. The artist was complete."
When Jenny Lind was drawing near the close of her studies under Garcia, the crucial question arose, Should the finished artist make her début in Paris? Or should she return at once to Sweden, and reappear in all the glory of her newly acquired powers in her beloved Stockholm? There were arguments to be brought forward on both sides. The problem was no new one. It had been frequently discussed, but her own feeling on the subject was very strong indeed. She could not reconcile herself to Paris. From the very first she had suspected the hollowness of its social organisation. In the September of 1841 she writes—
"There might be much to say about Paris, but I put it off until I am better able to judge. This much, however, I will say at once, that if good is sometimes to be found, an immeasurable amount of evil is to be found also. But I believe it to be an excellent school for any one with discernment enough to separate the rubbish from that which is worth preserving—though this is no easy task. To my mind the worst feature of Paris is its dreadful selfishness, its greed for money. There is nothing to which the people will not submit for the sake of gain. Applause here is not always given to talent, but often enough to vice,—to any obscure person who can afford to pay for it. Ugh! It is too dreadful to see the claqueurs sitting at the theatre, night after night, deciding the fate of those who are compelled to appear,—a terrible manifestation of original sin."
Six weeks later she writes: "All idea of appearing in public here has vanished. To begin with—I myself never relied upon it; but people said so many silly things about just one performance, that at last I began to feel as if I were in duty bound to try. But monstrous and unconquerable difficulties are in the way. In any case I want to go home again. But if I can arrange to sing at a concert before leaving, I will do so, in order that I may not return home without having at least done something."
All through the ensuing months she was still tortured by doubts as to the best course to pursue. In the following May she received from the directors of the Royal Theatre at Stockholm the offer of a definite and official engagement at the Opera House in which her early triumphs had been made, but this was not at once accepted.
At the end of June her studies with Garcia came to an end.
During this month it happened that Meyerbeer was in Paris on business connected with the production of "Le Prophète." Of the first performance of this opera Garcia retained a vivid memory, and, in speaking of it to me one day, recalled how, during the preliminary rehearsals, the singers all grumbled at its great length. Yet for the memorising and rehearsing of this, previous to its being put on the stage, they were given only eighteen days,—the same period as for that other lengthy work, "William Tell."
On June 15 Herr Lindblad arranged an interview with Meyerbeer, and Jenny Lind sang for him the aria from "Roberto" and from "Norma." The composer was much pleased with her voice, but seems to have entertained doubts as to whether it was powerful enough to fill the auditorium of the Grand Opera.
Garcia himself considered her voice still somewhat fatiguée, and not quite attained to the quality of which in a few months it would be capable.
It may have been this which Meyerbeer noticed. At any rate, in order to satisfy himself upon the point, he wished to hear her sing on the stage of the theatre itself. Accordingly, on the 24th an audition took place, in which she gave the three grand scenes from "Der Freischütz, "Robert le Diable," and "Norma." Meyerbeer was delighted, and made such comments as, "Une voix chaste et pure, pleine de grâce et de virginalité," while the next day he spoke of her to Berlioz with the greatest enthusiasm. He was anxious for her to make her appearance in London soon. Garcia, however, feared that the fame of Grisi would hinder his pupil from receiving a real chance. He therefore prevented her from making her début there till five years later, when she achieved a veritable triumph.
On October 10, 1842, the prima donna opened at the Stockholm theatre with a performance of "Norma,"—the very opera in which she had closed her appearances on June 19, 1841.
It must have been a direct challenge to the critical world of Stockholm, to recognise the change that had intervened between the two performances. What that change was we learn from an estimate supplied by a most competent and judicious critic, who sang with her often, both before and after her visit to Paris. He writes as follows:—
"When, during the years 1838-40, Jenny Lind enraptured her audience at Stockholm by her interpretation of the parts of Agathe, Pamina, Alice, Norma, or Lucia, she succeeded in doing so solely through her innate capacity for investing her performances, both musically and dramatically, with truthfulness, warmth, and poetry.
"The voice and its technical development were not, however, in sufficiently harmonious relation with her intentions.
"In proof of this it was noticed that the artist was not always able to control sustained notes in the upper register—such, for instance, as the A flat above the stave in Agathe's cavatina, 'Und ob die Wolke'—without perceptible difficulty; and that she frequently found it necessary to simplify the fioritura and cadenza which abound in florid parts like those of Norma and Lucia.
"Nay, there were not wanting some who, though they had heard her in parts no more trying than that of Emilia in Weigl's 'Swiss Family,'—a rôle which, in many respects, she rendered delightfully,—went so far as to doubt the possibility of training the veiled and weak-toned voice in a wider sense.
"Yet, in spite of this, Jenny Lind, when resuming her sphere of action at the Stockholm theatre, proved not only to have acquired a soprano voice of great sonority and compass, capable of adapting itself with ease to every shade of expression, but to have gained also a technical command over it great enough to be regarded as unique in the history of the world. Her messa di voce stood alone—unrivalled by any other singer.
"In like manner, in her shake, her scales, her legato and staccato passages, she evoked astonishment and admiration no less from competent judges than from the general public; and the more so since it was evident that, in the exercise of her wise discrimination, the songstress made use of these ornaments only in so far as they were in perfect harmony with the inner meaning of the music.
"The incredibly rapid development of her voice and technique caused many people to question the value of the instruction she had originally received before going to Garcia. Such doubts, however, must be dismissed as unjustifiable. The true reason why Jenny Lind's singing before she went abroad could not be said to flow in the track which leads to perfection is undoubtedly to be found in the fact that she was a so-called theatereler—a pupil educated at the expense of the directors of the theatre itself—and, as such, was unable to escape from the necessity of appearing in public before her preparatory education was completed,—a proceeding no less disastrous to the pupil than contrary to the good sense of the teacher."
Such, then, was the transformation that had come over her rendering of Norma. No wonder that Stockholm went wild with enthusiasm, and that from that time on her career was one long crescendo of success.
Jenny Lind had the priceless power of taking pains, added to which hers was a glorious voice, properly developed under her master's tender care. The combination of these gifts, mental and physical, enabled her to overcome every obstacle which crossed her path, and to reach the lofty position which she retained up to the time of her retirement from public life. Her career was the pride of her fellow-countrymen, and the name by which she became known, the Swedish Nightingale, acted as a constant reminder of her nationality.
The Swedish people paid their tribute to Garcia by making him a correspondent of the University of Stockholm, while the Swedish king created him "Chevalier de l'Ordre de Mérite (Gustavus Vasa)."
But the thing which the maestro prized more than all else was the undying gratitude of his pupil.
THE remaining six years which Señor Garcia spent in Paris before migrating to London were important for the musical world.
We have seen how at this point in his career he was able to claim as pupils a trio of world-renowned singers—Maria Malibran, Pauline Viardot, and Jenny Lind. During the period between 1842 and 1848 this number was greatly increased, for there passed through his hands a series of artists whose successes were a tribute to their master's method and powers of teaching, and to his right to be acknowledged by all the world as the foremost maestro di canto of his age. Henriette Nissen, Catherine Hayes, Mathilde Marchesi, Johanna Wagner, Julius Stockhausen, Barbot, Bussine, and Battaille,—these are the principal ones.
Even if his career had ended in '48, instead of being continued in England with no less triumphant results, he could well have claimed to have brought out a greater number of famous artists than any other teacher: only certainly he never would have claimed it, for he was ever the most modest of men, the most reticent on the subject of his own powers.
And now to say something concerning the career of the pupils whose names have been set down above.
Henriette Nissen (afterwards Mme. Siegfried Salomon) had commenced her vocal studies with Garcia in 1839, at the same time learning the piano under Chopin, and had made immense progress in her singing during the two years preceding the arrival of Jenny Lind. Being a favourite with the maestro, and a Swede by birth, it is not surprising that Garcia hastened to introduce her to Mdlle. Lind, and that she became her most intimate friend at this period. For the following details I am again indebted to Canon Holland:—
"The two would frequently sing together, and before long a feeling of generous rivalry sprang up between them, which must have been of infinite advantage to both. Mdlle. Lind makes frequent mention of her fellow-pupil in letters written during this period. 'I go to see her pretty often, and we sing together. She has a beautiful voice. In future we are going to have music together at Herr Blumm's.'"
These meetings at his house became quite an institution. Herr Blumm was a Swedish gentleman of kindliest disposition and infinite bonhomie, who held the appointment of "Chancelier" to the Swedish legation in the Rue d'Anjou; and he bestowed on the two young friends innumerable acts of courtesy and kindness during their study with Garcia.
"I am going to Herr Blumm's," she wrote again, "where Mdlle. Nissen is waiting for us, with an old relation of hers, and we four are going somewhere into the country for the day. She is a very sweet girl. The divine song draws us to each other."
A charming episode is recounted as having happened at the Christmas of 1841. When the festival drew near, Jenny Lind's heart was torn by yearnings for home.
"Ah! who will light the Christmas tree for my mother?" she wrote. "No one, no one! She has no child who can bring her the least pleasure. If you knew how she is ever before me! How constantly she is in my thoughts! How she gives me courage to work! How I love her, as I never loved before!"
In the midst of this cruel burst of home-sickness, good Mdlle. du Puget, in whose house she was staying, bethought her of an expedient, and the result was seen in the following letter:—
"Christmas Eve passed off better than I expected, for Mdlle. du Puget went to fetch the dear sweet Nissen, and all of a sudden, as I was standing in my room alone, she came creeping in to me. We sang duets together,—but my thoughts strayed homewards."
It was beautiful, as time progressed, to note the utter absence of jealousy which characterised this rare artistic friendship between two young students, each of whom had a reputation to ensure, and a name to render famous.
In the beginning of 1842, Garcia considered Mdlle. Nissen sufficiently advanced to make her appearance, and in April her début was made at the Italian Opera as Adalgisa in "Norma," this being followed by an immediate engagement for three years under the same management, commencing at a salary of from three to four hundred pounds for the first year. At the conclusion of this she toured Italy, Russia, Norway, Sweden, and England till 1849, when she appeared at Leipsic, and in the following years sang at most of the Gewandhaus concerts there, while in Berlin she almost rivalled Jenny Lind in popularity.
In the summer of 1842, the year of Nissen's début, Catherine Hayes came from Ireland, by the advice of Lablache, to place herself under Garcia, being at the time seventeen years of age. After four years' study she made her début at Marseilles in "I Puritani." Next year she appeared at Vienna, and in the following seasons sang in various parts of the Continent with success.
Her London début was made in 1849, and during that season she appeared at Covent Garden in the rôles of Lucia, Linda, and Amina. She soon became one of the most popular vocalists of her day in England, showing herself to be possessed of remarkable power, while her chief forte lay in the rendering of ballads.
The year 1844 saw the advent of three interesting pupils, the names of all curiously enough beginning with the same initial letter,—Barbot, Battaille, and Bussine.
Joseph Barbot came to Garcia at the Conservatoire at the age of twenty, and soon proved himself to be possessed of a remarkably fine tenor voice. At the completion of his training he was engaged at the Grand Opera, but soon left it for Italy, where he sang with great success. Perhaps the most noteworthy event of his career took place on March 19, 1859, for on that date he created the title part at the first performance of Gounod's "Faust" at the Théâtre Lyrique; while sixteen years later he was appointed to a professorship at the Conservatoire as successor to Mme. Viardot.
Charles Battaille appears to have commenced earning his livelihood as a doctor of medicine, the while he carried on his vocal studies. When he had brought these to a close he gave up his practice, and accepted an engagement as basso at the Opéra Comique. Here he remained for ten years, till an affliction of the larynx caused his retirement. From that time on he devoted his life to teaching, having already, in 1851, been appointed professor at the Conservatoire. In 1861 he published the first portion of a voluminous treatise entitled 'L'Enseignement du Chant,' containing some important results of his physiological study. His principal claim to fame, however, is the fact that he was chosen by Meyerbeer to create the bass rôle in "L'Etoile du Nord," while he won special renown in the "Seraglio," of Mozart.
As to Bussine, he was connected for some time with the Opéra Comique, and left it for an engagement as principal tenor at the Grand Opera in Paris. Moreover, he gave much time to teaching, one of his best known pupils being Duc.
The year 1845 saw the advent of one who ultimately became Garcia's greatest pupil in the field of teaching—Mathilde Marchesi, or, as she was at that time, Mdlle. Graumann.
Her father had been a wealthy merchant, but in 1843 he lost his fortune, and his daughter, being at this time seventeen years old, decided to adopt the musical profession. She went in the first place to study in Vienna, but in 1845 came to Paris to place herself under Garcia, who soon discovered in his new student a remarkable aptitude for teaching. Of her own recollections of studying under the maestro, Madame Marchesi has sent me the following details, some of which have already been narrated in her interesting book of reminiscences, published under the title, 'Marchesi and Music':—
"I need scarcely mention how the maestro's clear, intelligent, and thorough method furthered my artistic efforts. His ideas on the female voice and its development were a revelation to me, and they were the foundation of my future career. With Nicolai and Mendelssohn I had only studied classical music; now Garcia initiated me into the style of the Italian school, as at that time a florid execution was the principal aim of all good singers. The compositions of Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti were the chief objects of study, and I was obliged, therefore, to work away at countless scales, arpeggios, &c., and, what was worse still, with the metronome, which sometimes rendered me almost desperate.
"Besides Garcia, Bordogni and Banderali were also justly celebrated at this time, but he alone had made a thorough study of anatomy and physiology.
"All the maestro's pupils were enthusiastic about him, and patiently submitted to the necessity of waiting sometimes for hours in the anteroom, as he permitted no one to assist at his lessons. When at length the anxiously awaited moment had, as we thought, arrived, he often sent us home with the remark, 'I am tired, children; I will see you to-morrow.' Whenever this occurred we were terribly disappointed, but this wonderfully gifted man's next lesson made us soon oblivious of the previous day's deprivation.
"In the spring of 1847 Garcia fell from his horse and broke his right arm, which accident prevented him for a time from continuing his lessons. He therefore intrusted me with a number of his private pupils. I was very much flattered with this mark of distinction and the confidence thus placed in me, and as he had on various occasions already confided many of his beginners to me, I was not afraid of the responsibility, more especially as I was always able to go to him for advice in difficult cases."
Four years after Mdlle. Graumann had commenced her studies with the maestro, she followed him to London, and soon obtained high standing as a mezzo-soprano concert singer. In 1852 her marriage took place, and two years later she accepted the post of professor at the Vienna Conservatoire. From the first her attempts at carrying on the Garcia traditions of "Bel canto" singing met with the crown of success, and during the succeeding years Mme. Marchesi turned out such pupils as Ilma de Murska, Fricci, and Kraus, to bring fresh fame to the already glorious banner of Manuel Garcia. 1861 saw her removal to Paris, where pupils came from all parts, while about this time her text-book, 'École du Chant,' was published.
In 1865 Mme. Marchesi went to teach at the Cologne Conservatoire, where Antoinette Sterling came to her for a few lessons; while three years later she returned to Vienna to resume her post at the Conservatoire. This was resigned in 1878, but she continued to teach there for a time, after which she returned to Paris, and took up her work there again.
In addition to those already mentioned, her pupils have included Suzanne Adams, d'Angri, Calvé, Ada Crossley, Eames, Evangeline Florence, Frau Gerster, Blanche Marchesi, Melba, Emma Nevada, Sybil Sanderson, Francis Saville, and Tremelli. Truly a wonderful record to add to the list of exponents of Manuel Garcia's method.
In 1847 an important pupil was coming to Señor Garcia's studio—one who was destined to do great things hereafter. This was Johanna Wagner, the niece of Richard Wagner. Her musical ability already began to make itself noticeable at the age of five, when her father and uncle were residing at Würzburg; for she used to sing everything she heard, and the composer in after years would often laugh as he quoted these childish versions.
In 1844, when Johanna was in her seventeenth year, her uncle obtained an engagement for her at the Royal Opera in Dresden, where he was preparing for the first performance of "Rienzi." Though of but tender years she had such success as Agathe in the "Freischütz," that she was engaged for three years by the management, and created Elisabeth in "Tannhäuser."
On October 21, 1845, fifteen months later, the King of Saxony, who had taken the greatest interest in her progress, sent her to France to study under Garcia. She arrived at the beginning of February, accompanied by her father, who had hitherto been her only instructor. Thanks to the assistance which she received from Garcia during her stay in Paris, she quickly made her mark.
On her return she went to Hamburg, creating Fides in the German version, and taking part in the first performance there of the "Prophète." In 1850 she left for Berlin, where she was permanently engaged by the management of the Royal Opera House. Whilst there Fräulein Wagner was a great favourite with the royal family, and frequently sang in private for Frederick William IV. and his Queen, being generally accompanied by Meyerbeer.
In 1856 the prima donna appeared in London at Her Majesty's Opera House in "Tancredi," "Lucrezia Borgia," and as Romeo. In 1859 she married Herr Jackmann; two years later she lost her voice suddenly, and started on a second career as an actress, in which she made her name no less surely than as a singer. In this, Johanna Wagner resembled Geneviève Ward, for that famous tragédienne only entered upon a career of acting after having sung in opera under the name of Ginevra Guerrabella. With her, too, it was owing to loss of voice in consequence of overstrain that the change of career was adopted.
The training of Johanna Wagner by Garcia raises an interesting point in connection with German singing. Richard Wagner was so delighted upon hearing the improvement in his niece's voice on her return from Paris, that he wrote the maestro a letter full of the warmest recognition of the progress which she had made under his tuition.
But the gratitude did not end here: over twenty-five years later there came a very signal proof of the extent to which he had been impressed with Garcia's powers, for, when he was making the arrangements for the first Bayreuth Festival, he wrote to his old friend, asking whether he would undertake the training of the singers who were to take part in it. Garcia was so busy with his teaching in London at this time that he was unable to accept the offer; but the mere fact that he was asked to do this is a very material answer to those who would have it that Wagner's music is not supposed to be treated according to the Italian ideals, but should be rendered in the style of Sprechgesang, which has been a current German cry.
After the publication of his 'Mémoire sur la Voix,' Señor Garcia had continued to labour incessantly in perfecting his method, and in 1847 (the year in which Jenny Lind made her triumphant début in London as Alice in "Roberto," took the town by storm, and earned the name of the "Swedish Nightingale") this culminated in the publication of what is without question the most valuable contribution to the books upon the study of singing. It was issued in two parts, under the title of 'Traité complet de l'Art du Chant,' and was dedicated to King Oscar I. of Sweden, as a tribute to the nationality of the greatest of the maestro's pupils.
The work was translated into various languages, and thereby gained a world-wide reputation. The 'Traité' was acknowledged on all sides to be invaluable, and it laid the foundations of all important subsequent investigations into the emission of the voice.
As to Garcia's treatment of his pupils, he exhibited ever the most untiring patience. The infinite pains he took with them never failed to win their affection as well as their admiration, and this undoubtedly contributed in some considerable degree to the progress which they made under his care. A story has been told by Jourdan, which gives a good illustration of the great master's care of his pupils.
One day, being upset and ruffled at some remarks made upon his singing by the maestro, Jourdan left the class in a temper, and did not return for the next lesson. Garcia, noticing his absence, went to his lodging, a small room on the fifth floor, and took the young student by the ear, saying, "Come along, méchant garçon, come and have your lesson."
And now we come to 1848, the year in which Manuel Garcia terminated his residence in Paris.
He did so in consequence of the Revolution, which flared up on February 24, and finally resulted in the flight of Louis Philippe. It was during these disturbances that the maestro was sought out by Julius Stockhausen, a lad of twenty-two, who was eventually to become one of Germany's greatest teachers and singers. Of this period Herr Stockhausen sent me some reminiscences, and in reproducing them there is a pathetic interest, owing to the fact that two days after their arrival from Germany the lieder-singer passed away in his eighty-first year.
"I first made the acquaintance of the maestro," writes Herr Stockhausen, "in 1848. The year had begun with much unrest, and on February 24 the Revolution broke out. Owing to the absence of the friend under whose roof I was residing at the time, I was obliged to enter the National Guard as a substitute. As such I presented myself before the maestro in full uniform. He received me very kindly, for a relation of mine, Frau Reiter, who had already been studying with him, had spoken a few words of recommendation on my behalf.
"What struck me most at the first meeting were the steadiness of his glance, the swiftness of his movement, and the rhythm of his tread. He was a man of middle age—forty-three years old, his manner alert, his voice possessing a friendly ring. When I timidly inquired his terms he replied, 'Combien voulez-vous me donner? je n'ai plus d'élèves; ils ont tous fui la révolution.' But, honoured master, you have just been trying a tenor who has a powerful voice. 'True; but he has no ear,' replied Garcia. 'When I asked him what his occupation was, he replied, 'Je suis tourneur.' 'Eh bien,' I answered, 'tournez, tournez encore; pas d'oreille, pas de chanteur!'
"My position as a member of the National Guard and a son of artistic parents seemed to interest the maestro, and he asked me only ten francs a lesson. After a few days studies were commenced, and I used to attend in my regimentals. Unhappily, however, the hardships of bivouacking on those cold winter nights proved very pernicious for my young voice, so that after a few weeks I found myself obliged to cease lessons temporarily. For six weeks I struggled against catarrh and sore throat; but at the beginning of May there came a happy change.
"On the 26th of the same month I received an invitation from Basle to sing in Mendelssohn's 'Elijah.' Garcia raised no objections to my attempting the task, and went through the difficult passages with me very carefully, showing me further how I might commit the title-rôle to memory in a short time without overtiring the voice. When in due course I sang the Elijah in Basle, the audience had no idea how my voice had suffered during those weeks of military hardship and discipline in Paris."
Such is the characteristic description which Julius Stockhausen gave of his first months under Garcia.
THE first revolution of 1848 broke out in February. The grand Reform banquet which had been announced was suddenly prohibited on the 21st of the month, the immediate consequence being that revolutionary tumults burst out, and the next day brought with it the impeachment and resignation of Guizot. This was quickly followed by the throwing up of barricades in the streets; the Tuileries were ransacked, the prisons opened, and the most frightful disorders committed. At this Louis Philippe completely lost his nerve, and abdicated on the 24th in favour of his infant grandson, the Comte de Paris, who was not, however, accepted by the populace. Upon this the royal family and ministers made their escape as best they could, and a week later the ex-king landed at Newhaven as "Mr Smith."
On February 26 a republic was proclaimed from the steps of the Hôtel de Ville; and this decisive measure was followed by a grand funeral procession in honour of the victims of the revolution.
The next three months passed by in comparative quiet. The provisional government, which had been formed in the great public commotion, resigned to an executive commission, elected by the National Assembly of the French Republic, and the perpetual banishment of Louis Philippe and his family was decreed.
With June there came an outburst of still more frightful disorder, owing to the reconstitution of the National Guard of France, it being enlarged from 80,000 to 100,000. Among those who enrolled themselves in this body of men was Manuel Garcia; and it is not surprising that he did so, for, as all who knew him are well aware, he was a great lover of law and order.
The precautionary measure acted as a lighted fuse to a barrel of gunpowder. On June 23 the red republicans rose up in arms against the troops and the National Guard, more than three hundred barricades were thrown up, and firing continued in all parts of the capital during the night. Garcia well remembered George Sand standing on the top of a barricade surrounded by a band of students, and shouting down to him, "N'est-ce pas que c'est magnifique, n'est ce pas que c'est beau!"
Next day the troops under Cardignac and Lamoricière, after suffering immense loss, drove the insurgents from the left bank of the Seine. On the 25th Paris was declared in a state of siege, while on the following day the Faubourg du Temple was carried with cannon, the insurgents surrendered, and the revolution was brought to an end.
But at what a cost had peace been restored! The national losses caused by the outbreak were estimated at thirty million francs; while during the four days of fighting no less than sixteen thousand persons were killed and wounded, among the former being the Archbishop of Paris, who lost his life while tending the dying on the final day of conflict.
But for all its excitement and bloodshed this four days' revolution failed to excite much enthusiasm in the maestro. Perhaps it seemed poor fun after those scenes of the Napoleonic Invasion and the successive campaigns of the Peninsular War, which he remembered from his childhood. He may even have grown weary of such scenes, and considered the whole affair badly managed after the other revolutions he had been through. Certainly there had been much less fuss when, eighteen years before, he had seen Charles X. driven out and Louis Philippe made king. He had passed through too many excitements already.
One can almost imagine the scene that must have taken place in the July of 1846, when he was informed by a breathless pupil at the beginning of a lesson that an attempt had just been made on the king's life by Henri. One can picture him shaking his head reprovingly and replying, "Yes; but it was not as exciting as some of the other attempts on his life that I remember. Let me see, it must have been—yes, it was in the July of 1835, almost exactly thirteen years ago to the day, that the first one took place. Now that really was a fine one! Fieschi fired an infernal machine as the king was riding down the Boulevard du Temple along the lines of the National Guard. Louis Philippe was accompanied by his three sons. They all four escaped, but the Duke of Treviso was shot dead, and forty persons were killed and wounded. Now that's what I call something like an attempt!
"Then, next year, there was Louis Alibaud, who fired at the king on his way to the Tuileries. Pauvre garçon! He was guillotined for his trouble.
"There wasn't another attempt for some time, but in 1840, again, Darmès fired at Louis Philippe; that was the year before the attempt made to assassinate one of the king's sons, the Duke of Aumale; but there was no result. Much better leave things to Providence. Why, it was only a year later that the heir to the throne was killed without bothering any one to risk his neck over it! Yes, he had a fall from his carriage. Bless me! you must remember that; it was only six years ago. Then there was Lecompte, who had a try at his unhappy majesty when he was going to Fontainebleau. How many people did you say were killed to-day when Henri made the attempt? None? Dear, dear. It's not like the old days. Well, let's get on with the lesson. What songs have you brought?"
If such a scene as this did not take place, it certainly might well have done so.
However, what with revolutions, the driving out of kings, and the general unrest during the twenty years that followed his return from America as a young man of twenty-three, the maestro came to the conclusion that the French capital was getting too unsettled to be suitable for the giving of singing lessons. At the end of the month, therefore, he shook the dust of Paris from his feet and set out for London, where he had made up his mind to settle and establish himself as a teacher.
With this change of locale the second period in Manuel Garcia's life is brought to a close. Before leaving it, we will cast an eye over some of the figures prominent in the musical and artistic world of Paris during the twenty years in which the centenarian made it his home.
Rossini, as we have seen, was director both of the Théâtre Italien and of the French Opera when Garcia joined his sister in Paris at the close of 1827. During this time the composer adapted several of his works to French taste. Of these, "Moïse" and "Le Siège de Corinth" were the new titles given to "Mose in Egitto" and "Maometto Secondo," of which the original productions had taken place during the four years following Manuel's arrival from Naples as a lad of eleven. Rossini, however, only stayed in Paris for eighteen months, and left after the production there of his greatest work, "Guillaume Tell," in August 1822, nor did he return to settle down and become one of the most notable personalities of the city till a quarter of a century later.
Many interesting musical productions took place during Manuel Garcia's residence in Paris.
In 1828, the year of his arrival from Mexico, Liszt was a boy of sixteen, an infant prodigy, just returned from a visit to England, and beginning to teach pianoforte, owing to circumstances already referred to in speaking of the lessons which Mme. Viardot had from him.
Berlioz had been sent by his parents some little time before to study medicine in the French capital. Instead of doing so, however, he had devoted himself to music, and was at this time a pupil at the Conservatoire.
Soon after Garcia's arrival there took place the production of one of Auber's best known works, "La Muette di Portici," or, as it is usually entitled, "Masaniello." The next year, that in which Schubert died, saw the completion of "Agnes von Hohenstaufen," the greatest work of Spontini, whose opera, "La Vestale," had been greeted with enthusiasm and adjudged Napoleon's prize of 10,000 francs twenty-two years before.
In 1830 came Auber's "Fra Diavolo" and Halévy's "Manon Lescaut."
The following year was an important one in many ways, for there were produced not only Bellini's two favourite operas, "Somnambula" and "Norma" (the "Puritani" was given four years later), but Hérold's "Zampa" and Meyerbeer's "Robert le Diable." But this is not all, for it saw the advent to Paris of Frédéric Chopin, a young man of twenty-two. Here he quickly found fame, and became the idol of the salons, giving lessons to a select clientèle of pupils, and employing his leisure in composition. He rarely performed in public, though, in Mendelssohn's judgment, he was "a truly perfect virtuoso" as well as a thorough musician, with a faculty for improvisation such as, perhaps, no other pianist ever possessed.
In 1832, a date made memorable on the tablets of literature by the death of Goethe and Sir Walter Scott, there came Hérold's "Le Pré aux Clercs," while Berlioz obtained the first proper hearing for some of his compositions. Their complicated and peculiar nature, however, failed to win popular recognition, and he was driven to support himself and his wife by writing musical criticisms.
In the summer of 1833 the birth took place of a musician who was to become world-famous, Johannes Brahms; while the winter was rendered memorable in the artistic circles of Paris by the fatal journey which Alfred de Musset made to Italy with George Sand. In the following April he reappeared alone, broken in health and sunk in the deepest depression. A quarter of a century later, when Garcia had long been settled in London, he was to be reminded of the episode by reading the version of the events which George Sand gave to the world in the guise of a novel, 'Elle et Lui'; to which Paul de Musset at once retorted with 'Lui et Elle,' in which he asserted that she had been grossly unfaithful.
The year, which robbed the world of one musician and brought forth another,—for with the death of Bellini there came the birth of Saint-Saëns,—was one full of musical interest, for 1835 saw the completion of a perfect avalanche of new operas, including Auber's "Cheval de Bronze," Halévy's "La Juive" and "L'Etoile du Nord," Adolphe Adam's "Postilion de Longjumeau," and two operas by Donizetti, "Marino Faliero" and "Lucia di Lammermoor."
In 1836 the first performance took place of Meyerbeer's great opera, the "Huguenots," given at the Académie Royale de Musique on February 29, with the following cast:—
| Valentine | Mdlle. Falcon. |
| Marguerite | Mme. Doras-Gras. |
| Urbain | Mdlle. Flécheux. |
| Marcel | M. Levasseur. |
| Nevers | M. Dérivis. |
| Saint Bris | M. Serda. |
The part of Raoul was played by the elder Garcia's famous pupil, Adolph Nourrit.
It is, moreover, the date of the commencement of a fresh episode in the life of George Sand (Madame Armandine Dudevant), this time with Chopin, who was introduced to her by Liszt.
The "Domino Noir" was produced in Paris in 1837, the year which saw the first performance of Mendelssohn's "St Paul" in England, to be followed three years later by the "Hymn of Praise," and in 1848, the year of Garcia's arrival in London, by the "Elijah."
In 1839 Flotow's "Le Naufrage de la Méduse" was produced; but the year is of far more interest to us from the fact that Richard Wagner, a young man, twenty-six years of age, first arrived in Paris, resolved to try his fortune there with "Rienzi," only to be forced to leave the city after a sore struggle of nearly three years, with his opera still unperformed.
In 1840, the year of Paganini's death, three operas of Donizetti saw light, "La Fille du Régiment," "Lucrezia Borgia," and "La Favorita."
In the next year Auber's "Les Diamants de la Couronne" was performed; and a twelve-year-old musician, newly arrived from Moscow, was given an opportunity of playing the piano to Liszt, and of being patted on the head, while he listened to words of warm encouragement. And the name of the boy-pianist? Anton Rubinstein, who died more than twelve years ago, at the age of sixty-five.
In 1842, the year in which Massenet was born, Meyerbeer's opera "Le Prophète" was finished, which was destined not to be produced at the Grand Opera House till seven years later.
In 1843 Donizetti's "Don Pasquale" was brought out, and in the following year Flotow's "Stradella" and Félicien David's grand ode-symphony "Désert." It saw, moreover, the completion by Richard Wagner of "Der Fliegende Holländer," as the next year, in which Tom Hood died, saw that of "Tannhäuser."
In 1847 the Parisian public witnessed for the first time Flotow's "Martha," while in the last year of Garcia's sojourn in the capital, Nicolai's "Merry Wives of Windsor" and Wagner's "Lohengrin" were finished; Offenbach was appointed chef d'orchestre at the Théâtre Français (this being long before "La Grande Duchesse" and "Madame Favart" had been set down on paper); Gounod was still in his twenties, and had not yet even composed his first opera, while "Faust" was not to be brought out for eleven, and "Roméo et Juliette" for just on twenty years. As for Bizet, he was a mere boy of ten.
Allusion has already been made to George Sand, Henry Mürger, and Alfred de Musset. One must add to the literary circle of that time such personalities as these: Balzac, who first tasted success with the publication of 'Les Derniers Chouans,' about a year after Señor Garcia had arrived from Mexico, soon following this up with the earliest of his great works, 'La Peau de Chagrin'; Théophile Gautier, whose first long poem, 'Albertus,' was published about the same time, to be followed, in 1835, by the celebrated novel, 'Mademoiselle de Maupin,' with its defiant preface; Alfred de Vigny, whom Manuel Garcia, as a young man of twenty-five, saw abandon for good in 1830 the publication of his exquisite poetry, and confine himself after that date to works in prose alone.
Then there were Alphonse de Lamartine, statesman, poet, and historian, who, in 1829, had declined the post of Foreign Secretary in the Polignac Ministry, and by his 'Harmonies Poétiques et Religieuses' achieved his unanimous election to the Academy; Lamercier, one of the three chief exponents of the Romantic school, with some of his detached passages equal in beauty to anything in the language, and others so bizarre as to border on the ridiculous; Delavigne, representative of the golden mean of French literature, the half-classic and half-romantic school; Béranger, the "Horace" of French poetry, whose outspoken ballads achieved such immense popularity, that in turn Louis XVIII. and Charles X. threw him into prison because of his freedom of ideas,—for probably no poet has ever exercised such a power over the destiny of a nation; Victor Hugo, engaged in bringing out 'Notre Dame de Paris,' 'Le Roi s'amuse,' 'Les Voix Interieures,' in which the poet's diction is held to have found its noblest expression, 'Ruy Blas,' almost the most famous of his stage rhapsodies, and many another work of world-wide fame; Eugène Sue, whose first hit was made in 1842 with the too famous 'Mystères de Paris,' followed three years later by 'Le Juif Errant'; the elder Dumas, who, during these years, published such works as 'Monte Cristo,' 'Les Trois Mousquetaires,' and 'Les Mémoires d'un Médecin'; while in the year of the maestro's departure for London, Alexander Dumas the younger was bringing out his immortal 'La Dame aux Camélias.' Nor must one forget Paul de Kock, Henri Rochefort, who was then only sixteen years old, Zola half that age, and François Coppée a child of six.
When we turn to the painting world there is an equal embarras de richesse. What can one say to such a dazzling list of artists as Rosa Bonheur, Horace Vernet, Paul Delaroche, the founder of the modern "Eclectic School," Prud'hon, Gericault, Delacroix, Gros, Scheffer, Decamps, Corot, Rousseau, Troyon, Duprè, Diaz, Jean François Millet (who took his place with Garcia on the barricades during the Revolution of '48), nay, even Meissonier himself, whose first contribution to the Salon in 1834, a water-colour and an oil-picture, the centenarian remembered to have seen, followed two years later by the "Chess-Players," the precursor of that long series of elaborate genre-pictures, in which he depicted the civil and military life of the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries.
Truly, had Manuel Garcia passed away in the year of the Revolution, in accordance with the modern cry of "too old at forty," his career and experiences would have still been of surpassing interest. But with this year we only see the scene of his triumphs shifted from France to England, and have yet to watch him not only carrying through a further forty-seven years of work as teacher, but appearing in the new rôle of inventor, and then passing on to that last period, ten years of wonderful old age.
AT the close of June 1848 Manuel Garcia, at the age of forty-three, arrived in London, where he was to make a new home and spend the rest of his days.
What changes had taken place in the capital since he had last been there in the autumn of 1825! When he left George IV. was still king; when he returned William IV. had reigned and been succeeded by Queen Victoria, who had already been on the throne over ten years, while our present king, as Prince of Wales, was six years old.
Let us glance for a moment at the position of musical affairs in London, and at some of the artists who were in favour when Garcia arrived.
In the previous year (in which both Mendelssohn and Donizetti had died) an important event had taken place, for the Covent Garden Theatre was opened as an opera house, and a new period in its history begun.
The scheme had been originated by Signor Persiani, who took the lease of the place in partnership with Galletti; then, finding that they had embarked on an enterprise which was too much for them to carry through without assistance, they brought in Messrs Cramer, the music publishers, to help finance the undertaking.
As to the company which took part in the opening season, Signor Costa left Her Majesty's Theatre in order to fill the responsible post of conductor of an orchestra which had M. Prosper Sainton as principal violin; and of the artists themselves the stars were Grisi, Mario, Tamburini, and the Persianis, while Mdlle. Alboni made a triumphant début, and proved herself another strong card to strengthen the hand of the new management.
With the launching of this enterprise a triangular duel was fought between Covent Garden, Drury Lane under Bunn, and Her Majesty's under Lumley, who, after the famous "Bunn Controversy," had been successful in securing a trump-card with Garcia's now world-famous pupil, Jenny Lind.
Next let us conjure up the artistic circles of London, among which Señor Garcia found himself in 1848. What names of the past we find when we glance in turn at science and literature, the stage and music. In one and all it was an age of giants.
The scientific world could boast such lights as Brewster, Darwin, Faraday, Sir John Herschel, Huxley, Miller, Owen, and Tyndall.
Literature poured forth a veritable Niagara of Prose writers: Charlotte Brontë, Carlyle, Dickens, Disraeli, Grote, G. P. R. James, Douglas Jerrold, Charles Kingsley, Charles Lever, Bulwer Lytton, Macaulay, Martineau, John Stuart Mill, Ruskin, and Thackeray; while Poetry was scarcely less prominent with Arnold, P. Bayley, the Brownings, Clough, Tom Hood, Horner, Alexander Smith, Sir H. Taylor, and Tennyson.
En passant, we may note the following pieces of literary news, culled from newspapers published during the month in which Manuel Garcia landed in England.