Chapter IX: Part 9

Boieldieu’s prospects now changed with Aladdin-like suddenness, for his next opera, “La Famille Suisse,” was performed at the Theatre Feydeau for thirty nights in alternation with Cherubini’s “Medee,” and thus early began that connection with the great Italian maestro, at that time the best musician in France, which was to be so fruitful of good results to the new favorite. In 1798 Boieldieu turned for a while from operatic work, and composed a number of piano sonatas, piano and harp duets, and a piano concerto. Although these exercised no permanent influence on the art, they obtained for him the appointment of professor of piano at the Paris Conservatoire, two years later. In this position, however he was not very successful; he was too much wrapped up in composition to make a good teacher. The musical historian Fétis, who was his pupil, confirms this estimate; but the post at the Conservatoire led to a close acquaintance with Cherubini, by which Boieldieu began to remedy his lack of knowledge of counterpoint and fugal work. Although Fétis denies that Boieldieu was ever the pupil of Cherubini, there is every reason to believe that this was the case, even if a regular stipend was not paid for the tuition. The very fact that in 1799 the two worked in collaboration on “La Prisonnière” might tend to show that Boieldieu was anxious to attain something of Cherubini’s musical learning, and his submission of many later operas to the judgment of this master proves that he was willing to be guided by him.

About this time Boieldieu produced two operas that carried his fame beyond his native country; these were the Polish “Benjowski” and the very tuneful “Caliph of Bagdad,” both of which will receive further mention in the analytical portion of this article. A little later there appeared a more advanced work,—“Ma Tante Aurore.” The success was now so well established that all Parisian managers sought for works from the gifted pen, and opera followed opera.

TOMB OF BOIELDIEU IN PÈRE LACHAISE, PARIS.

From a lithograph.
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Boieldieu now lived on contentedly in Paris until 1802, when he almost wrecked his career in the same manner that his father had done; on March 19th of that year he married a ballet-dancer named Clotilde Mafleuroy, and immediately began to taste the bitterness of conjugal misery. He suddenly left Paris on this account and sought employment in Russia. He was received in St. Petersburg with open arms, and the Czar Alexander at once appointed him _capellmeister_ of the court. He produced little on this barren soil however, and although he stayed there eight years, and his contract called for three new operas and a number of military marches annually, scarcely anything of this period has been preserved. In 1810 the political horizon began to darken, and trouble between Russia and France became so imminent that our composer again suddenly packed up and returned to his beloved Paris, arriving at the beginning of 1811. Here however he found everything changed. The Napoleonic wars had exerted a deleterious influence on operatic patronage, and the taste, too, had changed in some degree; Cherubini and Mehul were silent, and Isouard alone ruled _Opera Comique_. Considerable jealousy of Boieldieu was at this time displayed, and at first he was unsuccessful in having any of the works he had written in Russia performed in Paris; therefore he set himself to producing an original work, and in 1812, “Jean de Paris,” a masterpiece of its kind, was produced at the Theatre Feydeau. Again a success was won, although not such a phenomenal one as the “Caliph of Bagdad” had attained, and for the next six years another series of operas proved that the composer had not lost his hold upon the Parisian public, and in addition to his own operas Boieldieu collaborated with Cherubini and Isouard. Two years later a great success attended the first production of “Le Chaperon Rouge,” but the composer was so exhausted by this effort that he was obliged to rest for a while from further composition. He now received the position of professor of composition at the Conservatoire, taking the place of Mehul, and for seven years he produced nothing more in opera. The crowning work was however to come later. During a stay at his brother’s farm in Cormeilles Boieldieu began composing once more. This time it was something far beyond his previous efforts, it was a _chef d’œuvre_ in the domain of comic opera,—the ever-beautiful “La Dame Blanche.” This masterwork was performed in December, 1825, and at once awakened boundless enthusiasm. Boieldieu was not much exhilarated by the result, for he seemed to feel that he could never hope to equal this work again. Nevertheless he soon attempted another subject, as if to ascertain if his surmises were correct. Bouilly’s dull libretto, “Les Deux Nuits” was accepted, as much from friendship as from any other motive. The new opera was finished in 1829, and made a flat failure, a result which hurt Boieldieu’s feelings in an inordinate degree. He had brought back a pulmonary trouble from Russia, and his disappointment seemed to aggravate the disease. He gave up his position at the Conservatoire, feeling too weak to continue teaching. The director of the _Opera Comique_ had given Boieldieu a pension of 1200 francs for his great services to the art, but the expulsion of Charles X. now came about, a new direction was installed, the institution was found to be bankrupt, and the income from this source ceased just when it was most needed. He had married again in 1827, and this time the union was a fortunate one, for in these final days of trial, sickness, and pecuniary difficulty, his wife sustained his drooping spirits with unswerving fidelity. She was a singer, Philis by name, and was the mother of Boieldieu’s only son, a composer of good attainments, but overshadowed by his father’s ability. Finally Louis Philippe was established on the throne of France, and his minister, M. Thiers, made speedy recognition of the value of Boieldieu’s work by granting him an annual pension of 6,000 francs. It could not give back the composer’s health, however, and, after a tour to Pisa he came back worse. He had been obliged by poverty to take back his old position at the Conservatoire, and made a brave effort to continue in it, but it was useless; in another tour in hopeless search for health, he died at Jarcy, October 8th, 1834. At the tomb his old companion and teacher, Cherubini, gave a last tribute to the modest and talented nature that had passed away so prematurely.

Boieldieu may be summed up in a single phrase as a Parisian Mozart. He had Mozart’s gift of melody and grace, and in his later years something of Mozart’s skill in harmonic and contrapuntal combination, but, unlike Mozart, his work can be divided into three epochs, the third only being comparable in _ensemble_ to the works of the German master. Boieldieu has been ranked as the best composer of _opera comique_ that France ever produced, and it is not too much to say that only Bizet has approached him in characteristic touches and poetic inspiration. Three works are at present the chief representatives of Boieldieu’s fame, “The Caliph of Bagdad,” which shows his earliest method, “Jean de Paris,” which is a good example of his second period, and “La Dame Blanche,” which is the finest of all his operas, the best outcome of the French _opera comique_ school, and shows the composer in his third and best period of growth.

Boieldieu was never misled by the popular applause which was showered upon him before it was fairly deserved. It has been well said that “there is no heavier burden than a great name acquired too soon,” and it is to the credit of Boieldieu that, although he acquired this burden with “The Caliph of Bagdad,” which has had over a thousand performances in France, he did not continue in the rather frivolous vein which had so captivated his earliest audiences. His modest desire to advance may be proven by the fact that when this opera was achieving its greatest success, Cherubini reproached him with “Malheureux! are you not ashamed of such an undeserved success?” when Boieldieu mildly begged for further instruction, that he might do better in the future. He even courted the opinions of his pupils in the Conservatoire as to portions of his work, a rather dangerous meekness. Pretty tunes and marked rhythms are the characteristics of this period. “Zoraime et Zulnare,” although at present almost unknown, always remained a favorite of the composer, but it is only another example of musicians not being the best judges of their own works.

Fac-simile musical manuscript written by Boieldieu.
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“Benjowski” is a transition towards his second period. It has a Polish plot written by Kotzebue, and its music has much local color. It was composed in 1800, but was retouched by Boieldieu a quarter of a century later, when he wittily said, “It smells of Russia leather!” The opening quartette in this work is very dramatic.

“Ma Tante Aurore” may be said to begin the second period. It preserves the brightness of the first period, but is much finer in its scoring, and it is no exaggeration to say that in this matter Boieldieu surpassed all of his contemporaries in France, with the sole exception of Cherubini. The versatility displayed in this period speaks of growth.

The eight years spent in Russia may be passed over with but slight comment, for of all that he wrote there, he cared to preserve but three operas, “Rien de Trop,” “La Jeune Femme,” and “Les Voitures Versées.” One cause of the weakness of the works of this period was the fact that no good librettos were obtainable, and the composer was even obliged to use many that had been set by other musicians.

Some commentators class “Jean de Paris” in the third period of Boieldieu’s work. It is a beautiful and characteristic opera; the song of the Princess, full of charming grace, the bold and dashing measures of the page, and the stiff, ceremonious style of the music of the Seneschal, are a few of the striking touches that go to make up a very brilliant work which has not yet disappeared from the repertoire, but when compared with “La Dame Blanche” the ensemble-writing is seen to be inferior. In this latter opera, the climax of his works, Boieldieu did not depart from the melodious character of his first and second periods, but rather added to it. All through his career he clung to the folk-song, and exactly as “Der Freischütz” was evolved by Weber from the German _Volkslied_, so “La Dame Blanche” had its root in the French _Chanson_. The libretto was evolved by Scribe from Scott’s works by amalgamating the “Monastery” and “Guy Mannering,” but spite of the introduction of “The Bush aboon Traquier” and “Robin Adair” (the latter not a true Scotch song) the flavor is by no means Scotch either in libretto or music. The harmonization of the finales of this opera is beyond anything that has been attained in French _opera comique_, and shows Boieldieu as a master in a school of which we find no traces in “The Caliph of Bagdad.” Yet through all the three periods one finds the thread of the _Chanson_ running melodiously. Music that is sincerely national can never die, and the secret of the success of Boieldieu’s operas, and their perennial freshness may be found in the fact that the composer builded upon the music of his country, and there is no firmer foundation possible.

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ETIENNE NICOLAS MÉHUL

_Reproduced from an aquatint portrait by Quenedey._
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ETIENNE NICOLAS MÉHUL

One of the most unique and interesting figures in the French musical world of the close of the eighteenth century is Etienne Nicolas Méhul. Sprung from comparative obscurity, he mounted to a world-wide fame. Starting out in life with the scantiest educational advantages, he reached a high degree of elegant culture. Living in a most dissolute period, he retained through life an irreproachable character. The son of a cook in a regimental barracks, he was tendered the position of chapelmaster by the great Napoleon.

Méhul was born at Givet, in the Ardennes, June 22, 1763. Like many other great composers, he was of low degree, had but few opportunities for study at the start, and struggled hard to gain his musical footing. His talent displayed itself at an early age and he himself never had a doubt as to his ultimate vocation in life, though his naturally religious disposition had predetermined his parents to send him to a monastery. At ten years of age he played in the Franciscan Church at Givet, such qualifications as he may have had being the result of his studies with a blind organist. Shortly after this time, Wilhelm Hauser, a distinguished German organist, arrived at the neighboring convent of La Val Dieu, whither the boy repaired to pursue his studies. He was fortunate enough to attract the favorable attention of the Abbé Lissoir, under whose auspices he studied for three years with Hauser. He made such rapid progress that he soon equalled his master and was appointed deputy organist at the convent. It is altogether probable that he would have been his successor had not good fortune attended him again. His playing attracted the notice of an officer of the garrison, who was a musical amateur, and it needed but little solicitation to induce the boy to go to Paris. He arrived at the capital in his sixteenth year and placed himself under the tuition of Edelmann, a Strasburg composer of eminence, who some years afterward deserted music for politics and perished ultimately upon the same scaffold to which he had consigned many a victim. With Edelmann he studied both the piano and composition, supporting himself meanwhile by giving lessons and writing sonatas and minor compositions for that instrument. The genius of his good fortune did not desert him in these days of stress. It was shortly after his arrival in Paris that Gluck’s “Iphigénia en Tauride” was placed in rehearsal. The popular interest in the performance had been heightened by the feud which had raged so bitterly between the Gluck and Piccini factions. Méhul caught the infection and, being without the money to purchase a ticket, he smuggled himself into the theatre the day before, intending to remain in concealment until the next eventful evening. He was discovered, however, by one of the inspectors, and as the latter was on the point of ejecting him, Gluck’s attention was drawn to him. He made some inquiries, and upon learning the facts in the case gave the young man a ticket. It was the turning-point in his career and decided the direction he should take; for Gluck followed up the chance acquaintance, took a decided interest in Méhul, gave him the benefit of his experience and advice and instructed him in the dramatic qualities of music. The young composer already had produced a cantata at the Concert Spirituel, written upon the subject of Rousseau’s Sacred Ode, and was ambitious to become known as a composer of church music, for the religious element was always strong in him; but Gluck changed all this and set his feet in the path of the opera, which he was destined to follow to the end of his life.

MÉHUL.

From a lithograph portrait loaned by the British Museum.
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Méhul began his dramatic work by writing three operas (“Psyché et l’Amour,” “Anacréon” and “Lausus et Lydie”) merely for the sake of practice. He was testing his wings before flight. He made his debut before the public with “Euphrosine et Coradin” in 1790 and achieved a brilliant success, though his first opera was “Cora et Alonzo,” which was produced later and met with only a moderately favorable reception. He was now in the full tide of musical activity, and opera after opera came from his prolific genius. “Stratonice” followed “Euphrosine,” and by many was considered his masterpiece, especially for the fine treatment of the ’cello parts, which instrument he had specially studied, and for the general excellence of the orchestration as well as its dramatic strength, in which quality he showed his close study of Gluck. The revolutionary period which now ensued was not favorable to the opera, and as if in sympathy with the depressing character of the time, Méhul brought forward such works as “Doria,” “Horatius Cocles,” “La Caverne,” and others, which did not add to his reputation. There were others, however, that proved an exception to the rule. “Le jeune Henri” for instance, was hissed because it introduced a royal personage, but the overture, with its lively and picturesque representation of the chase, was demanded several times over at the close of the performance. The overtures to both “Adrien” and “Ariodant” were also general favorites, as well as the romanzas in the latter. It was about this time (1799) that Méhul had his first encounter with some of the French critics, particularly Geoffroy, a well-known writer, who declared that he could not write in any other than a severe and heavy style. Shortly afterwards the opera of “Irato,” written in the Italian style, appeared anonymously. After its first performance the journalist wrote: “This is the way in which Méhul should compose.” The composer had his revenge on declaring himself the author and followed it up with another opera, “Une Folie,” in which his critic was satirized. Soon afterwards, however, he lapsed into the serious style. In 1806 he produced “Uthal,” in which he made the daring innovation, at the suggestion of Napoleon it is said, of doing away with the violins entirely and filling their places with the violas, as better adapted to the sombre Ossianic character of the composition. The result was so depressing that Grétry, who was present at the first performance, made the remark: “I would give a louis to hear the sound of a chanterelle, or the E string of the violin.” Undismayed by the reception of “Uthal,” Méhul followed it up with “Joanna,” “Hélène,” “Les Amazones” and “Gabrielle d’Estrées,” all written in the same serious style, showing high scholarship in counterpoint, but lacking in those light and elegant graces of composition which were so popular with the French. His activity was great during this period. Between 1791 and 1807 he wrote no less than twenty-four operas, besides six symphonies; music to poems of Chénier, Arnault and Sontanes, composed in honor of the Republican fêtes at which Napoleon presided, among them the “Chant du Départ,” “Chant de Victoire” and “Chant de Retour”; choruses to the tragedy of “Timoleon”; the incidental music to “Oedipus” and the drama of “The Hussites”; four ballets, “Le Jugement de Paris” (1793), “La Dansomanie” (1800), “Le Retour d’Ulyss” (1807), and “Persée et Andromède” (1810); besides many operettas and smaller works. He had enjoyed the favor of Napoleon to such an extent that upon the death of Paisiello he was offered the position of chapelmaster. Méhul, who was a devoted friend of Cherubini, was anxious that the latter should share the office with him, but Napoleon, who was incensed at a sharp reply Cherubini had made him in Vienna, sent word back to Méhul: “What I want is a chapelmaster who will make music and not noise,” and at once nominated M. Sueux to the position. Méhul was not without his honors, however, having been appointed a member of the Institute in 1795, and of the Legion of Honor in 1802.

In 1807 he achieved the crowning success of his career. “Joseph,” written on a Biblical subject, was produced and spread his fame all over France and Germany. Though not often heard in this country, it still remains a great favorite to-day among the Germans by its dignity, nobility and elevated style. It made ample compensation for his many failures and regained for him all the advantages he had lost. After 1810 he wrote but little, “Le Prince Troubadour” (1813) and “L’Oriflamme” (1814), written with Berton, Kreutzer and Paer, being his most important works.

MÉHUL

From a portrait in Clément’s “Les Musiciens Célèbres.”
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Méhul made his parting bow to the public with the opera of “La Journée aux Aventures,” which was produced in 1817 with considerable success. The same year closed his earthly labors. He had been in ill health for some time, and shortly after the production of his last opera he went, upon the advice of friends, to the south of France, where he had a residence, hoping thereby to regain his strength. His ailment, consumption, however, had so weakened his constitution that the change was fruitless. Moreover, he was homesick for Paris. In writing to a friend he mournfully says: “I have broken up all my habits. I am deprived of all my old friends, I am alone at the end of the world, surrounded by people whose language I can scarcely understand—and all this sacrifice to obtain a little more sun. The air which best agrees with me is that which I breathe among you.” He returned to Paris, warmly welcomed by his friends and the public. He made one, and only one more visit to the opera. He was soon stricken down in his last illness and died Oct. 18, 1817, in his fifty-fourth year, universally lamented both in France and Germany, for, like his pupil Hérold, he was as much of a favorite in the latter country as in the former. In fact neither of these composers was appreciated to the full extent of his ability in France, at least until after death, a neglect which was not confined to them, however: Berlioz shared the same fate. More than one French composer indeed has made his greatest success in Germany. Tributes of respect and admiration were shown to his memory in both countries. His funeral was attended by a great concourse of persons, and the pupils of the Conservatory with which he had been identified so many years, covered his grave with flowers. On the day of his interment memorial services were held in many places in Germany and France at which public addresses were made. Méhul married a daughter of Dr. Gastoldi, but having no children adopted his nephew, M. Daussoigne, a young musician of excellent promise. His posthumous opera, “Valentine de Milan,” was finished by the nephew and was performed in 1822, upon which occasion the composer’s bust was publicly crowned. The popular success, indeed, which he achieved as a composer, was unquestionably expedited by his high character as a man. His uprightness and natural tenderness had commended him to all the pupils of the Conservatory, and his strong affections did the same service for him with his friends. His generosity and benevolence were proverbial. The utter absence of jealousy in his disposition especially commended him to musicians. He had a particular abhorrence of intrigue and of those small rivalries which were abundant at that time, and which sometimes developed into great wars, as has already been hinted at in the reference to the famous struggle between the factions of Gluck and Piccini, which not only enrolled musicians, composers and opera-goers in opposing ranks, but even brought courtiers, the nobility and members of the royal family into fierce antagonism. In the midst of all this small turbulence Méhul had carried himself with even poise, working for the best interest of his art and always true to its canons, though he made many tentative innovations when fortune frowned upon him. At a time of more than ordinary dissipation and immorality, he maintained the highest moral principles and a sterling manhood. It was but natural, therefore, that such a man should have been mourned sincerely, and it may have added to public admiration that he had reached his high distinction by his own efforts, rising from rude and obscure beginnings to the summit of European fame.

Méhul was the legitimate successor of Gluck. It was that composer’s “Iphigénie,” as we have seen, that first caught his fancy, fired his ambition and directed his attention to dramatic composition. It was owing to Gluck himself, who at once recognized the ability of the young musician, that his feet were set in the right path, and it was to his advice and instruction—the instruction of a friend rather than of a teacher—that he owed his discovery and appreciation of the dramatic quality of music. Other composers, among them Cherubini, had a certain influence upon him, but Gluck was the all in all of his system, the source of his inspiration and the dominant element of his methods of treatment. He clung to dramatic truth with as much tenacity as did the great author of “Orpheus” and the “Iphigénias” and strove with the same earnestness to make his music a close and perspicuous illustration of the text, and to keep it elevated in style. Meanwhile his own nature was assisting him. Style and character are closely related, and Méhul’s music is a reflection of his own personal traits, namely, refinement of sentiment, seriousness and earnestness of presence, strong religious tendencies as shown in the opera—or shall we not call it oratorio—of “Joseph,” and nobility of character as shown in all his dramatic work. His style is always elevated, though at times he made the effort to unite light and graceful melodies of the effervescent and short-lived sort which find so much favor on the French stage. He was not successful in these, however. He was more at home in passion and pathos, in strong, broad motives, rich harmony and ingenious and elaborate accompaniments. In a word, his standards, like those of Gluck, in whose steps he followed so closely, were classical and of the highest romantic type. At times he was daring and ingenious in his innovations, as in “Ariodant,” where four horns and three ’cellos carry on an animated conversation; in “Phrosine et Mélidore,” where four horns have a full part in the score; and in “Uthal,” where the violas are substituted for the violins, as already has been mentioned. These, however, were only experiments, though they serve to show his originality of conception as well as his curious scholarship—a scholarship all the more remarkable when the poverty of his early training is considered. And yet he did more than almost any other of his contemporaries to elevate the Opera Comique, and has come down in musical history as one of the principal founders of the modern French School.

Fac-simile musical manuscript by Méhul, from Cherubini’s collection.

Méhul’s name, in upper left-hand corner, was written by Cherubini.
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Méhul’s activity was almost incessant. He has left forty operas, of which the following are the more important: “Alonzo et Cora” and “Euphrosine et Coradin” (1790); “Stratonice” (1792); “Le jeune Sage et le vieux Fou” (1793); “Horatius Cocles,” “Arminius,” “Phrosine et Mélidore” and “Scipion” (1794); “La Caverne,” “Tancrède et Chlorinde” and “Sesostris” (1795); “Le jeune Henri” and “Doria” (1797); “Adrien” and “Ariodant” (1799); “Epicure” (with Cherubini) and “Bion” (1800); “L’Irato” (1801); “Une Folie,” “Le Trésor Supposé,” “Joanne” and “L’Heureux malgré lui” (1802); “Helena” and “Le Baiser et la Quittance,” with Kreutzer, Boieldieu and Nicolo (1803); “Uthal,” “Les deux Aveugles de Tolède” and “Gabrielle d’Estrées” (1806); “Joseph” (1807); “Les Amazones” (1811); “Le Prince Troubadour” (1813); “L’Oriflamme” with Berton, Kreutzer and Paer, (1814); “Le Journée aux Aventures” (1816); and the posthumous opera, “Valentine de Milan,” finished by his nephew, M. Daussoigne, and first performed in 1822. Besides these dramatic works he has left four ballets, several symphonies, songs, operettas and incidental dramatic music to which reference has been made in the body of this article. Méhul’s literary ability, though never specially cultivated, was of a surprising kind, considering his early disadvantages. He has left two reports which have been greatly admired,—one upon the future state of music in France and the other upon the labors of the pupils in the Conservatory. Taken all in all, he was one of the most earnest, high-minded, conscientious and thoroughly artistic composers France has produced. He carried on the great work of Gluck and is one of the important links in the evolution of music which led up to Richard Wagner and his music-dramas.

LOUIS JOSEPH FERDINAND HÉROLD

_Reproduction of Hérold’s best known portrait, drawn from life on
stone by his friend L. Dupré with the epigraph_ “_Virtute non
ambitu, laurum meruit._”
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LOUIS JOSEPH FERDINAND HÉROLD

Louis Joseph Ferdinand Hérold, who played a conspicuous part in the elevation and enrichment of the opera comique, though now principally known by only two of his many operas, “Zampa” and “Le Pré aux Clercs,” was born at Paris, Jan. 28, 1791. His father, François Joseph, an Alsatian by birth, was a musician of more than ordinary ability. He had been a pupil of Philip Emmanuel Bach, was a professor of the piano, and also composed music for that instrument. Little is known of the mother except that she sympathized with her son’s talent, which displayed itself at a very tender age, for in his sixth year the precocious boy was writing little pieces for the piano. Upon the advice of Grétry, the composer, whom the parents consulted, he was sent to the Institution Hix, where he had his first lessons in music. He made such rapid progress that in 1806, the year in which his father died, he was encouraged by Fétis and other competent critics to make music his profession. He entered the Conservatory in the same year as a member of the piano class of Louis Adam, his godfather, and won his first honor by taking the piano prize in 1810. He subsequently extended his curriculum, studying harmony with Catel, the violin with Kreutzer, and composition with Méhul, who years afterward said of him on his deathbed: “I can die now that I know I leave a musician to France.” The success which marked his career in the Conservatory is indicated by his securing the Prix de Rome in 1812 with his cantata, “Mlle. de la Vallière.” The coveted honor opened wide the doors of music to him with the added advantages of foreign travel. The next two years were spent by the young musician in Italy, during which period there was a notable change in his style of composition. His first works were a hymn for four voices, two symphonies in C and D, and three quartets in D, C and G minor. The quality of these works, which are now treasured in the Conservatory, gives ample promise that he would have been a successful instrumental composer, but circumstances ordered otherwise. During his stay in Naples he was attached to the court of Queen Caroline as pianist, and to please her majesty he devoted himself to dramatic composition with an enthusiasm which soon aroused an ambition to excel in this class of writing. His aspirations were still further heightened by the success of his first dramatic work, “La Jeunesse de Henri V,” produced in 1815, and to the opera he now devoted himself with an industry that never flagged. Well schooled and practiced as he might have been in instrumental writing, it evidently had limitations which were not agreeable to a composer of strong emotions, vivid imagination and distinctly dramatic tendencies.

Hérold returned to Paris shortly after the successful production of his first opera, stopping en route in Vienna, where he made many musical acquaintances. Arrived at the French capital he at once made his arrangements for an active and busy season of writing for the stage. His first concern was to find a libretto adapted to his purpose, and it was while engaged in this difficult search that good fortune came to him in the request of Boieldieu that he would write the last half of an opera upon which he was then engaged, “Charles de France,” and which was brought forward in June, 1816. Collaboration of this kind was far from being uncommon at that period, particularly in France. He not only wrote “Charles de France” with Boieldieu, but “Vendome en Espagne” with Auber, and “L’Auberge d’Auray” with Carafa, while in “La Marquise de Brinvilliers” no less than nine composers of prominence were represented—Hérold, Auber, Batton, Berton, Blangini, Boieldieu, Carafa, Cherubini and Paër. The rage for collaboration also spread to literature and has been continued even into our time by Erckmann-Chatrian. The results of such work are more tolerable however in literature than in music, where unity of style is one of the essentials. His association with Boieldieu was of special advantage in introducing him to the theatrical world of writers, and he soon was at no loss to find libretti, good, bad and indifferent, many of them, it must be confessed, of the last two sorts. His first opera after the Boieldieu collaboration was “Les Rosières,” in three acts, (1817), which proved to be a success. Flushed with the prestige of this work the young composer immediately set about another, and before the year closed had finished “La Clochette,” which not only was successful, but as its fresh and taking airs caught the popular fancy, at once made him a favorite in the gay city. His industry now became prodigious. He was seized with the very demon of work and while in this mood he eagerly accepted everything that was offered him in the way of a libretto as affording a new outlet for his musical activity. The result was detrimental. Year after year he produced operas for the stage, some of which had but one or two hearings, while others were vigorously hissed, not on account of the music, but by reason of the weakness and commonplaceness of the stories and their utter lack of dramatic merit. Among such operas were “Le premier Venu” (1818); “Les Troqueurs” (1819); “L’Auteur mort et vivant” (1820); “Lasthénie” (1823); and “Le Lapin Blanc” (1825). Now and then, however, an opera was produced which made compensation for so many failures, and among these was “Le Muletier” (1823), which was highly esteemed, especially by those whose opinions were of value. In fact Hérold had no idle moments. During all of this period, and for two or three years later (1820–29), he was actively connected with the stage. In 1820 he accepted the position of piano accompanist for the Italian Opera and held it for seven years. In 1821 he was dispatched to Italy with a commission to engage artists, and from 1827 to 1829 was chorus master at the Académie de Musique. All this was practical experience of a valuable kind in the accessories and environments of his profession, and undoubtedly contributed many of the elements which led up to his ultimate success as an operatic composer by giving him a knowledge of the details of the stage, the habits and peculiarities of singers, and the limitations of the dramatic art which are so essential to the complete equipment of the composer. During a portion of this period he turned to other forms of composition. In 1827, he devoted himself to ballets. Of these, “Astolphe et Joconde,” “La Sonnambule,” “La Fille mal gardée,” “La Belle au bois dormant” and “Sylvie” are the most conspicuous. All of them are characterized by the same graceful and romantic style which is to be found so often in his operas. During this same period he wrote a voluminous amount of piano music, such as sonatas, caprices, rondos, fantasies, divertissements and variations, the most notable being a sonata in A flat, the “L’Amante disperato” sonata, the Rondo Dramatique, the “Pulcinella” caprice, variations on “Au clair de la lune,” “Marlbrook,” an arrangement of the “Moses in Egypt” of Rossini, whose music largely influenced his style, and incidental music to the drama of “Missolonghi,” which was produced at the Odeon. A letter written by his friend Chanlieu refers to this period. In speaking of the failure of some of his operas, M. Chanlieu says: “How many times in our solitary walks he lamented lost time and forced inaction! Disgust mastered him and made itself felt even in his piano music which, with the exception of two or three other works, was a species of current money to which he attached no value. It was, however, at that time that he wrote his fantasias on themes by Rossini, which had a great sale and at which he was the first to laugh. The spirit of youth still sustained him; he was gay and vivacious in private, but in public morose and caustic.” Rossini not alone influenced his musical style. It was through his courteous and kindly offices that Hérold received the decoration of the Legion of Honor, Rossini going so far even as to refuse it for himself unless it were also awarded to his friend.

BUST OF HÉROLD.

Reproduction of a proof before letters of an etching.
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To return to his operatic compositions, there were some others during this gloomy period of frequent failures which achieved success, among them, “Vendome en Espagne” (1823), which he wrote with Auber, “Le Roi Réné” composed for the fête of Louis XVIII., “Marie” (1826) and “L’Illusion” (1829), which enhanced his reputation and paved the way for the two works which were to be the crowning successes of his life. “Zampa” was produced May 3, 1831, and aroused something like a furor in Paris, though its most enduring success has been made in Germany. It still keeps the boards upon the continent, and though rarely heard in this country, its overture remains a conspicuous feature of concert programmes. With “Zampa” Hérold’s success was firmly grounded, though the work bears unmistakable indications of German influence and is written in the broad, serious style characteristic of the German composers. It is for this reason that it has been more favorably received in Germany than in France, though its merit was fully recognized by Hérold’s own countrymen. It restored the waning fortunes of the Opera Comique, saved it from ruin, and made Hérold a popular favorite. At this time he was chorus master, but a few weeks after his success he was dismissed by the new director upon the excuse that it was necessary to retrench. He had only a verbal contract, but he appealed to the courts, and his appeal was sustained after nine months of litigation, the courts holding that there was an implied contract. He accordingly was reinstated, but soon the fortunes of the Opera were involved in another financial crisis. The director sought to retrieve them with a sensation and in 1831 brought out the musical play of the “Marquise de Brinvilliers.” Scribe and Castil-Blaze wrote the text together, and nine composers, whose names have been given elsewhere, arranged the musical setting. The combined efforts of the collaborators, however, failed to produce anything more than a nine days’ wonder, and the doors of the Opera were reluctantly closed. Six months later a new location was chosen and the opera once more made its appeal to the public with a new work by Hérold, “La Médecine sans Médecin.” Its success fell far short of that which “Zampa” had enjoyed, but it served the purpose of keeping the Opera on its feet until Hérold had finished another work which was destined to complete his fame and to restore the Opera Comique to its old prestige. It was, alas, his swan song. “Le Pré aux Clercs” was performed Dec. 15, 1832. It had a success of enthusiasm. Unlike “Zampa,” it was a purely national opera, with an historical theme treated with genuine French grace and spirit, and abounding in characteristic French music which commended it to the Parisians. Its reception was attended with a remarkable display of excitement and popular acclamations. The audience rose to a man and called for the composer but he was unable to make an appearance. The fatigues of rehearsals and the tumultuous events of the evening were too much for his already enfeebled condition. He was taken home, but had hardly arrived there when he had a dangerous hemorrhage. He lived but four weeks after his great success, dying of consumption Jan. 19, 1833, the same disease which had proved fatal in his father’s case. His funeral took place on the 21st. He was buried at Père la Chaise, near Méhul, and addresses were made at the grave by Fétis and Saint-George. He left a widow, Adèle Elise Rollet-Hérold, to whom he was married in 1827, and three children, Ferdinand, an attorney, Adèle, and Eugenie who also was a musician. “Le Pré aux Clercs” was not his last work in the list of performances, for after his death the overture and four numbers of another opera, “Ludovic,” were found among his papers. The work was completed and produced with success by Halévy. His biographer, M. Jouvin, says of it: “In what proportion did this posthumous child of Hérold belong to its father and its godfather? I know not. I have not the opera of ‘Ludovic’ under my eye. I have not been admitted into the secret of the work done by the musician who two years later wrote ‘La Juive’ and ‘L’Eclair’ without taking breath. I only charge myself to report, without guaranteeing, a tradition which attributes to Hérold the overture and four pieces in the first act of this lyric drama.”

HÉROLD’S TOMB IN PÈRE LA CHAISE, PARIS.
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The peculiarities of Hérold’s style which distinguished him from the other operatic composers of his period were the freshness and originality of his ideas, the grace and refinement of his conceptions, which are displayed to special advantage in his ballets, the variety of his melodies, and the highly emotional and imaginative character of the man himself. He was the legitimate successor of Boieldieu and reflected his romantic moods, and it will be remembered coöperated with him in his first work after his return to Paris from Italy. With these purely subjective qualities he combined an instrumentation that is always rich in color and dramatic in effect, an intimate knowledge of the stage and its resources, and a superior degree of literary taste and culture, though the latter distinction did not always save him from accepting commonplace and sometimes worthless libretti. The reason for this is probably to be found in his prodigious activity, which induced him to accept such poor books in the hope that his music would excuse them, rather than spend his time in idleness. Though possessed of undoubted originality if not of actual inspiration, he was greatly influenced by the works of the composers, though in no sense can he be considered a copyist. During his Italian visit he was much impressed with Paisiello. In a letter to his mother about the year 1815 he says: “I have fallen into one error here—that of neglecting M. Paisiello.... I can say that I study much the music of Paisiello and find it delicious.” The Italian influences did not last long however. Upon his return to Paris he was devoted to the music of Méhul, with whom he had studied in the Conservatory. Rossini influenced him greatly for a time and how far he had studied Mozart is shown in “Zampa,” which was constructed upon the lines of “Don Juan.” In this connection, M. Scudo, in his criticism of “Zampa,” makes the following pertinent remarks: “The side of this work that stands open to criticism is, as nearly always with Hérold, confusion of styles. The austere and sober phrase of Méhul is found in company with Italian bravura. The chansonette disperses with its importunate cockcrow all the phantoms worked from the supernatural. Mozart, Méhul, Weber, Rossini, Auber, how many more?—may be found in the hybrid formation of this superb monster. Under the mobile structure of that orchestra, so full of presentiments and mysteries, you distinguish Weber. Those duets, those Venetian colored finales, conceived, worked with the vigorous authority of a master, speak to you of Rossini, while here and there the small details, the grace, the spirit, the lively and piquant features murmur in your ears the names of Boieldieu and Auber.” His own thoughts which he committed to paper, however, and which were found among his documents after his death, will give a clue to his style and to his ideas of what constituted artistic excellence. Among many other things he says: “Melodies must come from the soul to reach the soul of the auditors.” “Try to find a just medium between the vague music of Sacchini and the vigor of Gluck. Think often of Mozart and his beautiful _airs de mouvement_.” “Lean always to the side of melodies free from platitude.” “In all arts, and particularly in music for some time past, people are skilful in finishing and polishing without reflecting how much more important is a good general design.” “Of melody as much as possible.” “Declaim with truth and strength.” “Find themes which bring tears.” “‘Great sorrows are silent’ observed Seneca. Thus Hero seeing the floating corpse of Leander held her peace. He who goes to the Opera only to hear the music had better frequent the concert-room. The musical tragedian ought above all to sing but ever in agreement with the situation.” And then, as if to answer the comments of some of his critics: “Why not use several styles in a great work? A chief priest can sing in the ancient manner, the others in the modern.” “Church music ought to pray for those who listen to it, as said Salieri.” M. Gustave Chouquet, the keeper of the Museum of the Paris Conservatory, has well summed up the characteristics of Hérold in his analysis of “Zampa”: “In a word we recognize in ‘Zampa’ the hand of a master, who to the spirit of Italian music unites the depth of the German and the elegance of the French School.”

The principal works of Hérold include twenty-two operas, one cantata, five ballets, three sonatas, three string quartets, two symphonies, seven caprices, seventeen rondos and divertissements, seven fantasies and three variations. Of the operas the following have been the most successful: “La jeunesse de Henri V.” (1815); “Charles de France” (1816); “Les Rosières” (1817); “La Clochette” (1817); “Le Muletier” (1823); “Vendome en Espagne” (1823); “Marie” (1826); “L’lllusion” (1829); “Zampa” (1831); “La Médecine sans Médecin” (1832) and “Le Pré aux Clercs” (1832). Though none of these works can be called familiar in this country, it can hardly be doubted that the two operas “Zampa” and “Le Pré aux Clercs,” which saved the Opera Comique, and which paved the way for Ambroise Thomas, Bizet, Massenet and the modern French school, would repay revival and achieve fresh popularity.

Fac-simile musical manuscript written by Hérold.
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Fac-simile autograph letter from Hérold to his mother.
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MEDALLION OF HÉROLD.

By David d’Angers, in 1816.
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DANIEL FRANÇOIS ESPRIT AUBER

_From an engraving by C. Deblois, 1867._
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DANIEL FRANÇOIS ESPRIT AUBER

A life more peaceful, happy and regular, nay, even monotonous, or one more devoid of incident than Auber’s, has never fallen to the lot of any musician. Uniformly harmonious, with but an occasional musical dissonance, the symphony of his life led up to its dramatic climax when the dying composer lay surrounded by the turmoil and carnage of the Paris Commune. Such is the picture we draw of the existence of this French composer, in whose garden of life there grew only roses without thorns; whose long and glorious career as a composer ended only with his life; who felt that he had not lived long enough, and who clung tenaciously to life, energetically refusing to drop this mantle of mortality, postponing the final moment by the mere strength of his powerful determination to live.

Auber, the most Parisian of Parisians, who could never tear himself away from his dear native city, even for a short excursion in the summer, was born,—as it happened—at Caen, towards the end of the month of January, 1782. I say, “as it happened,” because the composer’s parents were not settled in that town and were only staying there temporarily when the future author of “La Muette de Portici” made his entrance upon the stage of life. His father was a print-seller in Paris. Being a thorough business man he wished his son to become a business man also. To this end, when his child had received a somewhat summary education, and had almost reached man’s estate, he sent him to London to begin his career in a house of business.

Even at this early period the young Auber was considered a distinguished amateur musician. He played the piano well, and had made successful attempts at minor composition, such as ballads, small morceaux for the piano, etc. Realizing that he was not fitted for a business life, but for that of a musician, Auber returned to Paris, where he was not long in making for himself a reputation in the fashionable world. He was looked upon as an agreeable pianist and a graceful composer, with sparkling and original ideas. He pleased the ladies by his irreproachable gallantry and the sterner sex by his wit and vivacity. During this early period of his life Auber produced a number of _lieder_, serenade duets, and pieces of drawing-room music, including a trio for the piano, violin and violoncello, which was considered charming by the indulgent and easy-going audience who heard it. Encouraged by this success, he wrote a more important work, a concerto for violins with orchestra, which was executed by the celebrated Mazas at one of the Conservatoire concerts. He also composed, for his friend Lamare, concertos which were applauded by the general public. This Lamare was a violoncellist of great talent and erudition, but so barren of musical creative power that he could not originate the simplest melody nor compose a note for his own instrument. Auber adapted his music so cleverly to the playing of the eminent instrumentalist that Lamare said to him: “Nobody would think, my dear Auber, that I was not the composer of these concertos, so strongly are they impressed with my personality.” To which Auber replied: “Since that is so, my dear Lamare, the concertos shall be published in your name.” And as a matter of fact they were so published, successively, under the name of the violoncellist. The public thought he was the author of them, but musicians were aware of the truth, which has been an open secret for a considerable time.

It is evident that although Auber made his début as a dramatic composer at a late period, he early practised this art as an amateur, producing his compositions in the Paris drawing-rooms. These drawing-rooms were his academy of music up to the time when, convinced that he had still much to learn in the practice of counterpoint, he sought assistance from the illustrious Cherubini, whom he was destined one day to succeed as director of the Paris Conservatoire.

The first work that Auber submitted to public judgment was a comic opera in one act, entitled “Le Séjour Militaire,” which was produced at the Théâtre Feydeau in 1813. Auber was then thirty-two years old. This piece was not his first attempt in theatrical work, however; for he had previously written a comic opera for the Prince de Chimay, and before this, still another work for a small orchestra, which was represented in an amateur theatre. He had also composed a Mass, with orchestra, in which occurred the admirable chant which he used at a later date in the famous prayer in his masterpiece, “La Muette de Portici.” “Le Séjour Militaire” may be regarded merely as marking a date in the biography of the French composer. This piece, of somewhat doubtful buffoonery, passed unnoticed by the general public. Indeed the musician himself was very slightly impressed with it, being but imperfectly inspired when he wrote it. Nevertheless a writer then celebrated, M. Martinville, discovered in this score several pretty _motifs_ and a great deal of wit.

From 1813 to 1819 Auber remained silent, and it might have been thought that he had ceased to exist. What became of him during this long period? He still continued to appear in society and, when in the humor, to write as an amateur fugitive pieces of music set to subjects of the same character. He asked dramatic poets to write pieces for him, but they were not very anxious to do so after the failure of “Le Séjour Militaire.”

About this time the composer’s father died, leaving a widow and two sons without fortune. During this period, when the eminent musician that was to be was still pursuing his studies, he found himself face to face with pecuniary difficulties; but he supported them bravely, never complaining.

Planard, the most fashionable librettist of that day, was accustomed to gather around him in his little house at Passy—which was not then considered one of the districts of Paris—a company of amateurs and artists. There was music, and Auber, one of the most assiduous habitués of the house, accompanied on the piano. In this way it came to pass that Madame Planard took a great interest in Auber and espoused his cause.

“My dear,” she said to her husband, “can you not entrust one of your poems to poor Auber, who is so well-bred, so witty, and so good an accompanist? I am convinced that he will earn himself a name among our composers. It is a pity that he should compose operatic airs without words because he has none to work on.”