The Mapleson Memoirs, 1848-1888 Volume I Part 6

GARIBALDI VISITS THE OPERA--GIUGLINI'S TROUBLE AT ST PETERSBURG--GIUGLINI VISITED BY t.i.tIENS--ALARM OF FIRE--PRODUCTION OF "MEDEA"--GRISI'S LAST APPEARANCE--AN ENRAGED TENOR.

IN 1864 my season opened brilliantly, and on the fifth night I induced Garibaldi, who was then in this country, to visit the theatre; which filled it to overflowing. On that evening t.i.tiens and Giuglini really surpa.s.sed themselves; and at the close of the opera Garibaldi told me he had never witnessed such a spirited performance, and that he had been quite carried away by the admirable singing of the two eminent artists.

The opera was _Lucrezia Borgia_.

Some few nights afterwards I placed Nicolai's opera, the _Merry Wives of Windsor_, before the public, under the name of _Falstaff_, introducing a charming contralto named Bettelheim; who undertook the _role_ of "Mrs.

Page," whilst t.i.tiens impersonated "Mrs. Ford," Giuglini "Fenton,"

Bettini "Slender," Ga.s.sier "Mr. Page," Santley "Mr. Ford," &c., &c. The magnificent new scenery was by Telbin. The opera met with most unequivocal success, and was repeated for several consecutive nights.

But, as with so many other operas, the public were so slow in expressing their approbation that it gradually had to drop out of the _repertoire_.

Shortly afterwards I produced, remounted, Beethoven's _Fidelio_, with t.i.tiens as the heroine, which was given some seven or eight nights in succession to the most crowded houses. In the winter I gave my usual extra performances in the provinces and in London.

Prior to the close of the London season of 1864 Giuglini signed an engagement for St. Petersburg, receiving a very large honorarium for his services. Regarding himself as the only representative of "Faust," he had not taken the precaution of stipulating for his appearance in this, or, indeed, any other part in his _repertoire_. On his arrival he was much mortified to find the Covent Garden artists, of whom there were several, always working and intriguing together; and to Giuglini's great dismay the part of "Faust" was a.s.signed to Signor Tamberlik; Patti being the "Margherita" and Nantier Didiee the "Siebel." Now pa.s.sed some two or three weeks before Giuglini could obtain a _debut_. One afternoon, about three o'clock, he was informed by the intendant that he was called upon to perform the _role_ of "Faust," Tamberlik being taken suddenly ill.

This was indeed good news, and he set about arranging his costumes and looking over the music. Towards six o'clock he heard it rumoured that Madame Patti would be too indisposed to sing the _role_ of "Margherita,"

and that he would have to appear with some _debutante_.

This thoroughly unnerved him, and he himself became indisposed, which he at once notified to the intendant. At the advice of some friends he was induced to take a walk, and pay a visit to some acquaintances to spend the evening.

About ten o'clock the door was rudely opened without any warning, and an _employe_ entered, accompanied by two officials, one of whom politely raised his hat and said, "Signor Giuglini, I believe?" to which the Signor replied that he was Giuglini. They thereupon immediately left.

Nothing more was heard of this matter until about a fortnight afterwards. It being pay day for the princ.i.p.al artists, that afternoon the Imperial Treasurer called at Giuglini's house with a roll of rouble notes, requesting him to sign the receipt for his month's pay, which Giuglini at once did. But on leaving, the treasurer begged to draw his attention to the notes, as a deduction of 150 had been made from his monthly stipend in consequence of his having left the house on the day he was reported to be indisposed. He got into a towering fit of rage, requesting the balance to be handed to him, as he was allowed certain days of indisposition according to the terms of his contract. The treasurer replied that according to the provisions of that clause he should have remained at home in his house on the day of his reported illness. The arguments became very warm, and Giuglini, in a fit of rage, threw the whole bundle of rouble notes into the stove, which was then burning; and from that moment his reason seemed to have left him.

On the termination of my spring concert tour in 1865 we began a season of opera in the beginning of March at Dublin, Giuglini promising to join us at the conclusion of his St. Petersburg engagement, which ended about that time.

One morning at breakfast I received a telegram from London: "Come on at once. Giuglini arrived." I was indeed delighted, and, having notified the good news to the Dublin press, left immediately for London. On my arrival at Giuglini's house in Welbeck Street I was told that he was very much indisposed in consequence of the fatigues of the journey, and that his mind did not seem quite right. I went upstairs to him at once.

He was very pleased to see me, but to my astonishment he had no trousers on. Otherwise he was all right.

I talked with him some time, and advised him to put on the necessary garment, so that we might start that evening for Dublin. By force of persuasion I at last obtained his consent to let me put his trousers on for him, and in the course of an hour succeeded in getting one leg in. I then ordered some oysters for him, and talked to him whilst I was coaxing in the other leg. This I at length managed to do, when to my horror I found the first leg had come out again. After wasting the whole of the day I found myself too late to catch the Irish mail, and the Signor still with one leg only in his pantaloons.

Whilst Giuglini was sleeping I inquired as to the full particulars of his condition, and was informed that he had arrived from St. Petersburg in charge of a hired courier, who simply wanted a receipt for him. At the same time his magnificent fur coats and other costly clothing were all missing. He had made the journey in second-cla.s.s, wearing a summer suit although it was the depth of winter; and on examining his jewel case I found that the stones had been taken out of everything he possessed, although the articles themselves were there. It was indeed a sad affair. I was advised to place him for a short time under the care of Dr. Tuke, and I had then to hurry back to Ireland.

On my return to London I went to pay Giuglini a visit at Chiswick, Mdlle. t.i.tiens insisting on accompanying me. We waited some time during which we were particularly cautioned not to approach him. At length he entered; he was delighted to see us and talked quite rationally. We persuaded the doctor to allow us to take him for a drive, the signor at the same time expressing a wish to be driven to the Star and Garter, at Richmond, to dine. To this the keeper, who was on the box alongside the coachman, objected, promising Giuglini that if he would return to the doctor's he should have a nice large plate of meat, which seemed greatly to please him. Giuglini had previously complained to me that he was made to drink sherry, a wine which he particularly disliked, his ordinary drink being claret or claret and water. He afterwards sang us "Spirto gentil" from the _Favorita_, followed by "M'appari" from _Martha_, singing both airs divinely. The only thing peculiar was that his tongue was drawn very much to the right, and that he had to stop after every ninth or tenth bar to straighten it.

When we got back to the doctor's Mdlle. t.i.tiens and myself stayed to dinner. During the repast Giuglini, who had been looking forward to his plate of meat, came into the room exhibiting on a very small plate a very small piece of meat.

"Look what they have given me, Therese," he said to t.i.tiens. "I am afraid to eat it," he added, in a tone of irony; "it might give me an indigestion."

My firm belief is that if I could have got both Giuglini's legs into his trousers the day that he arrived in London I should have saved him.

Living something like his ordinary life, among his old companions, he would have had at least a chance of getting well.

Thus matters went on until the London season of 1865 opened, which took place on the Sat.u.r.day night of the Easter week. I had made a series of improvements throughout the theatre, by reducing considerably the number of the private boxes, and enlarging those I retained. I likewise removed the twelve proscenium boxes, ten each side of the stage, thereby advancing the drop curtain some 16 feet nearer the public. This gave me much more room behind the scenes.

Amongst the new singers I introduced was Miss Laura Harris, who afterwards, as Mdme. Zagury, achieved brilliant success throughout the whole of Europe; also Mdlle. Ilma de Murska, a lady who at once took high rank from her phenomenal vocal qualities. I also presented Signor Foli, a young artist, who was engaged at the Italian Opera in Paris, and who soon became a public favourite; likewise Signor Rokitanski, another eminent ba.s.so. Despite the blow I had received in the loss of Giuglini I went to work with renewed energies, and presented to the public Beethoven's _Fidelio_, with a magnificent cast, including t.i.tiens, the incomparable "Leonora." I, moreover, mounted in great style Mozart's _Flauto Magico_, t.i.tiens being the "Pamina," Ilma de Murska the "Queen of Night," Sinico the "Papagena," and Santley the "Papageno;" whilst the subordinate parts were all undertaken by princ.i.p.al artists.

During the last act an accident occurred, which might have been very serious, inasmuch as the house was crowded from the stalls right up to the back of the gallery. In preparing for the final scene some of the gauze, which had been used for clouds during the evening, caught fire over the gas battens. Instantly the alarm was given, when one of the flymen, at the risk of his neck, flung himself across the stage, balancing himself on a "batten" (a narrow strip of wood, some forty feet long), while he cut the ropes with his knife, causing the burning gauze to fall down on to the stage, where it was extinguished by the firemen.

Mr. Santley, who was undertaking the _role_ of the "Bird-catcher,"

remained on the stage unmoved. He walked forward to the audience, and addressed them in these eloquent words--

"Don't act like a lot of fools. It's nothing."

This speech had an immediate effect; and Santley continued his song as if nothing had happened. But for his presence of mind the loss of life would have been most serious.

I likewise produced Cherubini's tragic opera, _Medea_; a work considered by musical amateurs one of the finest dramatic compositions ever written. No musician ever exercised more influence on his art than Cherubini. His compositions are of the first authority, so that no musical library, whether of the professor or the amateur, can claim to be considered complete without them. The part of "Medea" was represented by Mdlle. t.i.tiens. In a.s.suming this _role_ Mdlle. t.i.tiens certainly added the final touch of l.u.s.tre to her lyric crown. I need scarcely say the opera was magnificently mounted, even to the smallest detail. It was particularly successful, and still retains its place in the _repertoire_. I was interested to find in what large numbers the relatives and descendants of Cherubini were attracted to my theatre by the announcement of his Medea. Naturally they all expected free admissions, even to great-grandchildren and third cousins.

The season was a very successful one. In the autumn I started the regular provincial opera tour, Mario being my princ.i.p.al tenor, vice Giuglini. We commenced in Manchester, where Mario's unrivalled performances in _Faust, Rigoletto, Martha, Ballo in Maschera_, and _Don Giovanni_ attracted crowded houses. We afterwards visited Dublin, proceeding thence to Belfast, Liverpool, etc., terminating, as usual, about Christmas.

In the early part of January, 1866, I made a very successful concert tour, giving no less than one hundred and twenty concerts in some seventy cities in sixty successive days, with two very strong parties: t.i.tiens, Trebelli, Santley, Stagno, and Bossi in one; and Grisi, Lablache, Mario, Foli, and Arditi in the other; ending up with a brilliant series of operas with casts combined from the two parties in the northern capital and at Glasgow, where Mdme. Grisi distinguished herself in the _roles_ of "Lucrezia Borgia," "Norma," "Donna Anna," etc.

Thus matters went on until the London season. On each occasion when I visited Giuglini I found no improvement, and it was ultimately decided that a sea trip might benefit him. He, therefore, left London in a sailing ship for Italy. I never saw him afterwards. I need scarcely add that his loss was irreparable.

I opened my London season of 1866 early in April, for which I engaged a very powerful Company, including Mdme. Grisi. I announced her engagement in the following terms:--

"Mr. Mapleson has the gratification to announce that he has prevailed on Mdme. Grisi to revisit the scene of her early triumphs, and again to appear at the Theatre, her previous connection with which formed one of the most brilliant epochs in operatic history. Mdme. Grisi will once more undertake some of the parts which she created, and in her impersonations of which will be revived the traditions obtained direct from Rossini, Donizetti, and Bellini. These representations can only extend for a few nights, and they will derive additional interest from the fact that Mdlle. t.i.tiens has consented to take part in them as a mark of respect to one who for so many years reigned absolutely without a rival on the lyric stage."

I was justified in making this announcement in consequence of the magnificent style in which Mdme. Grisi had been singing during our spring opera tour.

Grisi seemed interested and affected by her return to the old house of which she had taken leave twenty years previously. The old _habitues_ came in large numbers to see her, to hear her, and naturally to support her with their applause on her first (which proved also to be her last) appearance. This took place on the evening of May 5, 1866. The Prince and Princess of Wales were both present.

When the gondola came down, from which, in the first act of _Lucrezia Borgia_, the heroine makes her entry, there was breathless attention throughout the house. The great vocalist had the command of all her resources, and sang the two verses of "Com'e bello" admirably, omitting, according to her custom, the _cabaletta_, which t.i.tiens and all other "Lucrezias" made a point of giving.

Well as she sang, I noticed some signs of nervousness. She had been visited by misgivings before the performance began. I had done my best, however, to rea.s.sure her, and was under the impression, judging from the apparent result, that I had succeeded. But her hands, I remember, just as she was going on, were extremely cold. I took them in my own, and found that they were like stone.

At the end of the first act, on the conclusion of the scene in which "Lucrezia" is taunted and reproached by her victims and their friends, Mdme. Grisi, accustomed to the stage of the Royal Italian Opera, remained too far in front, though at a point where, at Covent Garden, the curtain would have fallen between her and the audience. It was otherwise at Her Majesty's Theatre (I refer, of course, to the old building), where the stage advanced far into the audience department; and when the curtain came down the "Lucrezia" of the evening found herself kneeling on the ground (in which att.i.tude she had defied the conspirators) and cut off by the curtain from the stage behind. This placed the unfortunate singer in a ludicrous and, indeed, painful position; for she had a stiffness in one of her knees, and was unable on this occasion to rise without the help of the stage attendants.

Mdme. Grisi was, of course, much distressed by this _contretemps_. She had recourse, however, to the homeopathic remedies which she always carried with her, and after a time was herself again. These remedies were for the most part in the form of stimulants, which, however, Mdme.

Grisi took only in the smallest quant.i.ties. Her medicine-chest contained a dozen half-pint wicker-covered bottles, which held, besides orgeat and other syrups, brandy, whisky, hollands, port-wine, and bottled stout.

In the second act Mdme. Grisi got on very well, especially in the scene with the ba.s.s preceding the famous trio. In the pa.s.sionate duet with the tenor, just when the Duke, after administering the poison to "Gennaro,"

has gone away, she made an unsuccessful attempt to reach the A natural; and the failure caused her much confusion. She got through the performance; but she ran up to me immediately the curtain fell and exclaimed that it was all over with her, and that she never could appear again.

The notices next morning were sufficiently favourable; but it was evident that the career of the great vocalist was now, indeed, at an end. Let me here say a word about Mdme. Grisi's pecuniary affairs.

After the duel between her husband, M. de Meley, and Lord Castlereagh a separation took place; and the injured spouse made an arrangement by which he was to receive out of his wife's salary the moderate income of two thousand a year. This she was to pay as long as she remained on the stage. In order that the famous singer might enjoy the use of her own earnings, I made an agreement with her by which on my provincial tours she was to sing for me gratuitously, while I at the same time engaged to pay Signor Mario 300 a week. For this salary the two admirable artists were ready to sing as often as I liked. They were most obliging; full of good nature, and without any of the affectation or caprice from which so few singers at the present day are free. They took a pleasure in their performances, and thought nothing of playing three or four times a week.

They would have sung every night had I been unreasonable enough to ask them to do so.

Far from insisting that she should never be called upon to do anything that was not expressly set down for her in her written contract, Mdme.

Grisi would often volunteer her a.s.sistance in cases where it was really very useful. In _Don Pasquale_, for instance, while Mario was singing the beautiful serenade "Com'e gentil!" she would direct the chorus behind the scenes, singing herself and marking the time on the tambourine.

She was invaluable to Mario in many ways, not only in connection with his art, but also with the occupations of his ordinary life. She was always punctual, and, indeed, a little before the time; whereas Mario was invariably late. He had always his cravat to tie or a fresh cigar to light just when the last moment for catching the train had arrived. He was the most inveterate smoker I ever knew. He had always a cigar in his mouth, except when he was on the stage and actually in the presence of the audience. When he came off, if only for a moment, he would take a puff at his still burning cigar, which he had carefully left in the wings where he would be sure to find it again. "Faust" in the garden scene pa.s.ses for a few moments behind some bushes at the back of the stage. During those moments Mario had just time to enjoy a few whiffs, after which he returned to continue his love-making.

Mario spent large sums of money on his favourite weed, and thought nothing of giving away a box of cigars to a friend for which he had paid (to some friendly tobacconist who had cheated him) 5 or 6 a hundred.

About this time I charged Mr. Telbin and his talented sons to paint me the whole of the scenery for Meyerbeer's _Dinorah_, which was brought out in due course, Ilma de Murska appearing as the demented heroine, Gardoni as "Corentino," and Santley as "Hoel." It was a truly magnificent performance, well worthy the reputation of the theatre.

Shortly afterwards I produced another cla.s.sical opera, which was gladly welcomed by all musical amateurs. The work I refer to was Gluck's _Iphigenia in Tauris_--a work not less remarkable for its intrinsic merits than for having been the cause of one of the most fierce and prolonged artistic controversies on record. Paris, ever the _champ de bataille_ of such contests, was, figuratively speaking, shaken to its foundations by the antagonistic Gluckists and Piccinists; and the dispute was only ended by Gluck leaving France.

This work was likewise magnificently put upon the stage, t.i.tiens, Santley, and Gardoni really surpa.s.sing themselves.

I afterwards had the honour of introducing Mozart's comic opera, _Il Seraglio_, in which Mdlle. t.i.tiens appeared as "Constanza," the remaining personages being entrusted to Dr. Gunz, Signor, Stagno, Rokitanski, &c.